Doctor Jessica stood beside the exam table where I remained lying with my feet still secured in the stirrups, my patient gown pushed up and my body fully exposed.

Anita stood on the opposite side, her arms crossed, watching me with that same calm authority she had shown since we arrived at the private medical facility.

The two women continued their discussion as if my protests were nothing more than background noise, their voices professional and matter-of-fact.

Doctor Jessica adjusted her white lab coat over her tight green scrubs and glanced at Anita.

“I don’t have any nurses on duty today since it’s Saturday. It’s fortunate that you’re willing to help, Anita. That makes the arrangements much smoother.”

Anita nodded, her black hair shifting slightly as she looked down at me.

“I’m happy to assist in any way needed, Doctor Jessica.”

Doctor Jessica smiled approvingly.

“Excellent. Can you administer enemas? We’ll need to clean Allan thoroughly before the more detailed procedures in the operating room.”

Anita’s response came without hesitation.

“I absolutely can. I administered enemas to my three children when they were younger whenever it was necessary. I know exactly how to do it properly and safely.”

I felt a cold wave of panic wash over me. My heart began racing faster as I lay there, legs spread, completely vulnerable.

Doctor Jessica continued smoothly.

“Perfect. While I go prepare the operating room and gather the additional equipment we’ll need for the CT scan and prostate examination, could you start with the enemas here? I’ll bring the supplies.”

The words hit me like a shock.

“No!” I blurted out, trying to sit up despite the stirrups holding my legs apart. “I don’t want any enemas! Especially not from Anita. This is too much!”

Both women turned to me immediately, their expressions stern.

Doctor Jessica’s voice was sharp and authoritative.

“Allan, you were already told to stop protesting. We’ve made the decision, and you will cooperate. Your resistance is only making this more difficult for everyone.”

Anita added in the same firm tone, her glasses catching the overhead light.

“Be quiet and accept what needs to be done. Doctor Jessica and I know what is best.”

Their combined scolding left no room for argument. I fell silent, cheeks burning with humiliation, my body still spread open on the table.

Doctor Jessica nodded once.

“I’ll get the supplies needed right now.”

She stepped out of the exam room, her thick thighs moving under the tight green scrubs, the white lab coat swaying with her steps. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving me alone with Anita.

I turned my head toward her, frustration and embarrassment boiling over.

“Why did you trick me into this, Anita? You lied about the appointment being yours. Now I’m stuck here, about to have… enemas… from you. This is humiliating.”

Anita looked down at me, her expression unchanging behind her glasses.

“I did what was necessary, Allan. You refused every time I suggested a check-up. There is clearly a problem that needs to be dealt with properly, and it will be handled in the operating room. Doctor Jessica agrees. Stop complaining and prepare yourself.”

Her words carried that familiar maternal dominance, now amplified by the clinical setting. Female domination wrapped in medical authority. I felt powerless, my secret fetishes—medfet, the thought of surgical uniforms, my ass fetish—clashing violently with the real vulnerability I was experiencing.

A few minutes later the door opened again. Doctor Jessica returned pushing a rolling cart loaded with supplies for the enemas only. On the top tray sat three large enema bags of different varieties: one clear bag marked for a saline solution, another with a milky appearance labeled “soap suds,” and a third containing a smaller volume of oil. Beside them were coiled tubing, multiple disposable nozzles in sealed packets, a large container of lubricant, absorbent pads, a box of white latex gloves, and several towels.

Next to the supplies lay a folded white lab coat.

Doctor Jessica gestured toward the cart.

“If you are going to help with the examination, Anita, you should wear the proper doctor uniform as well for this part of the process. Here is a lab coat for you.”

Anita’s eyes lit up with clear excitement. She took the white lab coat and slipped it on over her dark gray top and black leggings. The coat was slightly large on her but still accentuated her wide hips and thick thighs. She smoothed it down, looking pleased with the new authoritative appearance. The combination of her black hair, glasses, and now the white lab coat made her look every bit like a doctor in charge.

Doctor Jessica continued giving instructions.

“You will administer three enemas of different varieties to ensure he is thoroughly cleaned. Start with the saline, then the soap suds, and finish with the oil retention enema. Once all three are completed and he has expelled everything properly, call me so we can move him to the operating room.”

I tried to protest again, my voice shaky.

“Please, I don’t need three enemas. This isn’t necessary—”

Doctor Jessica cut me off sternly.

“It is necessary, Allan. And from now on, you will address Anita as Doctor Anita. She is your doctor as well for all intents and purposes during this process. Understand?”

Anita nodded in agreement, clearly enjoying the role.

“Yes. Call me Doctor Anita. Think of me only as your physician now, not as your mother-in-law.”

Doctor Jessica gave one last nod.

“I’ll be preparing the operating room. Take your time and do it correctly, Doctor Anita.”

With that, Doctor Jessica left the room again, closing the door behind her. The click sounded final.

Now it was just me, still lying exposed in the stirrups, and Anita—now wearing the white lab coat. She turned toward the cart and began preparing herself with deliberate, professional movements.

First she gathered her black hair, which fell just below her shoulders, and tied it neatly into a ponytail, similar to Doctor Jessica’s style. The motion made her look even more clinical and in control.

Then she opened the box of white latex gloves and slowly pulled a pair onto her hands. The gloves stretched with a snapping sound, fitting tightly over her fingers. The sight of her mature hands encased in those clinical white gloves sent an unexpected rush through me. My medfet fantasies surged forward—sterile gloves, a woman in a lab coat taking charge, the vulnerability of the exam table. Despite my embarrassment and fear, I felt my penis begin to harden, rising visibly under the thin patient gown.

Anita noticed immediately.

She lifted the gown higher, exposing me completely, and her eyes widened in surprise behind her glasses.

“What is this?” she demanded, her voice sharp with scolding. “You’re becoming erect? Here? During a medical procedure? Explain yourself, Allan.”

I couldn’t find words. My face burned with shame, and I stammered uselessly, unable to answer. The arousal mixed with humiliation in a dizzying wave.

Anita’s tone grew stricter.

“Address me properly. Call me Doctor Anita. And do not think of me as your mother-in-law right now. I am your doctor. Now, tell Doctor Anita why you are aroused during an enema preparation.”

It was clear she was enjoying playing the role of a doctor. There was a subtle satisfaction in her voice as she corrected me, her gloved hands resting on her wide hips over the lab coat.

When I still couldn’t respond coherently, she shook her head, clearly upset but proceeding anyway.

“Very well. We will deal with this erection and what it means later in the operating room. For now, I am embarrassed that my own son-in-law masturbates twice a day as you admitted earlier. That level of frequency suggests poor self-control, and it will be examined thoroughly.”

She picked up the large container of lubricant and squeezed a generous amount onto her gloved fingers. The clear gel glistened thickly as she rubbed it between her thumb and forefinger to warm it slightly. She then took the first disposable nozzle from its sealed packet—a smooth, tapered plastic tip with a small bulb at the end—and coated it thoroughly with the lubricant, sliding her gloved fingers up and down the length of the nozzle until it was shiny and slick. Excess lubricant dripped slowly from the tip.

Anita lifted my gown completely out of the way and adjusted my position slightly on the table, even though the stirrups already held my legs high and apart. My ass was fully exposed and accessible. She placed several absorbent pads beneath me for protection.

“Relax your muscles,” she instructed firmly as one gloved hand spread my cheeks wider. Her lubricated finger circled my tight anus slowly, pressing gently against the puckered opening before sliding inside with a smooth, steady motion. The cool gel made the intrusion slippery as her finger moved deeper, twisting slightly to coat the internal walls thoroughly. I gasped and moaned involuntarily at the sensation, my body tensing despite her command.

“Please… Doctor Anita… I don’t want this,” I moaned, trying to shift my hips away, but the stirrups kept me firmly in place.

She added more lubricant directly to my opening and then positioned the coated nozzle at my entrance. The slippery tip pressed firmly against my anus, stretching the tight ring as she pushed it in slowly, inch by inch. The nozzle slid deeper with a wet, gliding sensation until the bulb seated securely inside me. I moaned louder, a mix of resistance and unwanted stimulation escaping my lips as my erection throbbed visibly.

“Stop resisting,” she scolded, opening the clamp on the tubing connected to the first enema bag—the saline solution. Warm fluid began flowing into me at a controlled rate. The pressure built steadily, filling my bowels with a heavy, warm sensation.

“Hold it as long as you can,” Doctor Anita said, her voice now fully in the doctor role. She placed one gloved hand on my lower abdomen and began rubbing in slow, firm circles to help the solution distribute. “This will clean you out properly. Breathe steadily.”

The pressure inside me intensified quickly. I moaned and squirmed in the stirrups, trying to clench against the flow. “It’s too much… I can’t…”

“You can and you will,” she replied sternly, continuing the abdominal massage with steady pressure. Her gloved hand moved in deep circles, pressing down gently to encourage the fluid deeper. She kept the flow going until the entire bag had emptied into me.

The fullness was overwhelming. I moaned continuously, my body trembling as cramps began. Anita kept rubbing my stomach firmly, her ponytail swaying slightly with the motion. After several long, uncomfortable minutes, she finally removed the nozzle with a wet pop.

“Go to the attached bathroom and expel everything completely. Do not come back until you are fully empty. I will wait here.”

She helped me lower my legs from the stirrups. I stood on shaky legs, the gown barely covering me, and hurried to the small bathroom attached to the exam room, closing the door behind me for the expulsion. The relief was intense but the humiliation lingered as I emptied the saline enema.

When I returned to the table and climbed back into position, Anita was already preparing the second enema. She again lubricated her gloved fingers generously, warming the gel before circling and penetrating my anus once more. Her finger pushed deeper this time, twisting and coating every inch of the internal passage while I moaned and tried to pull away.

“Stay still,” she ordered.

She then took the second nozzle, coating it even more thickly with lubricant until it dripped. The tapered tip pressed against my now-slick opening and slid in with less resistance but greater sensation. I moaned loudly as the bulb seated, my erection still stubbornly present.

The soap suds enema began flowing in. This solution created stronger cramping almost immediately. I resisted and moaned with every wave of pressure, my hips twitching in the stirrups.

“Hold it longer this time,” Doctor Anita commanded, rubbing my stomach more vigorously. Her gloved hand pressed and massaged deeply, working the soapy fluid through my bowels. “You need to be completely clean for the prostate examination and any other procedures Doctor Jessica has planned.”

The cramps were intense. I groaned and begged for relief, but she made me hold it for an extended period while continuing the firm abdominal rubbing. When she finally allowed expulsion, I again went alone to the bathroom, enduring the stronger effects of the soap suds in private.

By the time I returned for the third enema, my body was trembling and sensitive. Anita repeated the lubrication process with even more care. She coated her fingers thickly and inserted two this time, scissoring them gently to stretch and lubricate me thoroughly. I moaned deeply, resisting the intrusion with small movements of my hips that earned me another scolding.

The oil retention nozzle was smaller but heavily lubricated. She pressed it slowly into my anus, the slick gel allowing it to glide in smoothly until it was fully seated. I let out a long moan of mixed discomfort and unwanted arousal as the warm oil began to flow. This one was designed to stay inside longer to soften and lubricate internally.

“Keep it inside for ten full minutes,” she instructed. “No expelling until I say so.”

During those minutes she stood close, her thick thighs visible under the lab coat, her gloved hand never leaving my stomach. She massaged deeply in circular motions, pressing firmly to help the oil work. Throughout the entire process she continued humiliating me for the persistent erection.

“Look at you—erect during your enema. This is inappropriate behavior for a patient. Doctor Jessica and I will investigate this thoroughly in the operating room. Perhaps there is a deeper issue with your sexual responses that needs attention.”

She added, her voice laced with disappointment, “I am truly embarrassed that you masturbate twice a day. A young man like you should have better control. We will address this in the operating room—perhaps with more direct stimulation tests.”

Her words, delivered while she wore the lab coat and white gloves, only fed my medfet arousal despite the shame. My ass fetish flared as she handled my exposed rear so clinically, positioning me, inserting the nozzle with slow, deliberate pressure, and monitoring every moan and twitch.

When the ten minutes were up she removed the nozzle and sent me to the bathroom once more for the final expulsion. I remained there until I was completely empty, the oil leaving me feeling thoroughly cleaned but exhausted.

Once I returned and lay back on the table, Anita removed her gloves with a sharp snap and disposed of them properly. She picked up the phone on the wall.

“Doctor Jessica, the three enemas are finished. Allan has been thoroughly cleaned.

She hung up and turned back to me, still lying exposed on the table, my body now trembling from the experience and the anticipation of what was coming next in the OR.