Am lying on your examination table, my legs spread wide, ankles restrained in stirrups, hands restrained above my head. You removed my gown before instructing me to lie down and I am completely naked on the paper sheet.

My breasts are exposed of course and you examine them and explore the responses of my pink, rosy nipples and surrounding aureole. You start with my breasts and spend time, the anticipation and huge fear of your moving down for an examination between my legs building as you examine and manipulate my breasts. I am ashamed that I am becoming aroused - my juices run down to create a pool on the paper sheet under my ass and I hope desperately that you don’t notice that or the warm blush that has spread up my chest.

You are talking to me all the time you are examining my breasts, watching my face while you manipulate my nipples, looking for reaction and savoring my involuntary breaths of pleasure and shame. You tell me what you are going to do to me; how you are going to examine me, the instruments you are going to use, what I will feel. Then you place a stool between my legs and from another room wheel in a trolley covered in those instruments. I have not seen anything like it in my life and am totally fearful. I tell you I don't want to be examined after all, that I have to go, that I got it all wrong. You just talk to me calmly, telling me that I will feel a little discomfort and even a little pain, but that you are not going to let me leave until you have examined me fully. You tell me you won't untie me until you are ready to change my position on the exam table and then you will turn me over to expose my asshole better so you can give me a full rectal. But for now you have me on my back. My breasts are tender from your examination, the nipples extended and reddened. Later on you tell me, at another appointment, you will introduce another doctor or even a nurse to the examination. They will focus on examining and testing the response of my breasts while you take care of my more intimate examination. But for now you are alone. My embarrassment and shame turns you on as does the fact that you are so obviously giving me intense and shameful pleasure, before you have really started

You pull the trolley over to the side of the exam table and take out a pair of latex gloves from the box sitting beneath it. You hold your hands up and snap them on. Then you don your surgical mask so that I can see only your cold, hard eyes. The top half of the bed is upright enough for me to see each instrument you select and allows me to watch you use it on me. Firstly you take a pair of forceps and tell me you are going to clamp them to my labia so they are pulled back to expose my clitoris to you properly ready for the examination. I automatically pull slightly against the restraints in a vain effort to pull away from you. You talk to me in a comforting but cold voice, telling me that it will be uncomfortable but that your examination will be easier if the forceps hold my outer lips open. I feel the cold steel as you run the forceps over my inner thigh, as if by accident before opening me up. With your gloved fingers you pull apart my right outer labia and slowly but firmly clamp the forceps onto it. I cry out, as much in fear as in the slight pain. You pick up the other forceps and apply them to the other side, leaving my labia spread wide open with the forceps resting on my inner thighs. You run your gloved finger down over my clit and bring it up amazed at the amount of juice slicked on it. The hood of my clitoris is pulled back and the reddened bud is exposed and already swelling. You are relieved that your patient is so responsive and you look forward to carrying out more comprehensive examinations on me, pushing the boundaries and teaching me to withstand everything you do to me. Your cock strains against your scrubs as you look down to me spread wide open and I watch as you move your hand down to give yourself a discrete, preliminary masturbation. You did it so quickly that I am confused - did I just see my doctor touch himself while looking at me spread wide open? I am fearful ? I came to you because a friend recommended I see you. I had been having trouble reaching orgasm and thought I needed advice ? not a full medical, and this looks way beyond what could be considered an examination.

But I was soon distracted from the thought as your fingers circled my clitoris gently, although only for a moment. My backside lifted off the table when you removed your fingers. You then tell me you are going to start the examination. You tell me that in my next examination you will have me lying on my front to start with so you can inject my buttock with a solution that will heighten my sexual responses, but you say to start with you want to test out my reactions without it. You tell me you are going to turn me over in a while anyway and will be injecting me, but will explain more in a while. I see a number of large syringes on the trolley, along with horribly big needles in their sterile packets. The thought of having those pushed into my flesh turns me cold with fear and dread. You see me eyeing them and tell me yes, you will be working on my flesh with those, and may even have to twist the needles around a little just to test out my responses to the pain they cause. My heart beats faster at your words and I strain against my bonds automatically.

So you begin your examination. You push two fingers up into my vagina, not needing to use lubricant because I am embarrassingly wet. You press the two fingers deep inside of me while your other hand pushes down on my lower belly. I squirm in discomfort as you feel your way around my insides, pressuring, pushing, manipulating. Watching your gloved fingers pushed up into me, although very uncomfortable, only adds to my arousal but I cry out as you push harder onto my belly while fingering me. Then you withdraw them and take a large metal speculum from the trolley. You tell me that you are going to push it into my vagina and then open it as wide as it will go and that it will be very uncomfortable as you stretch me open. I gasp as you start to slide the cold metal into me and I wriggle slightly to try to ease the discomfort. I watch as you wind it open and I bite my lip to stop myself moaning. Even though I have had the speculum inside me before, my other doctor never wound it open to such an extent. I am breathing fast and my face is reddened. You look at me, spread wide, with the speculum holding my vagina gaping open and you relish the sight. You pull the light further down for a better view and give a tug to the forceps attached to my outer labia just to heighten my anxiety. You tell me you are going to leave the speculum in and do a full rectal examination next. Even though my juices have poured down over my tight hole, you know it won’t be enough to allow you access. You know nothing has ever penetrated me there so I will be tense and tight. I feel the cold gel on the tip of your gloved finger as you gently begin to rub it over the puckered flesh. You push your finger slightly against the hole and begin to force it in, slowly, and all the time your eyes watch me above your surgical mask. I am breathing fast, out of fear, out of shame. Nobody has ever touched me there and now to be spread as I am, with a speculum holding my vagina gaping, and you, my doctor, fingering my asshole, is as shameful as I think life could get. Of course I am wrong because I don’t know what the masterful doctor has in mind ? even my own vivid imagination doesn’t run that far.

Your finger pushes into me to the first knuckle, then the second. I strain against the restraints and let out a muffled moan as I bite down on my lips again. You warn me you may have to gag me in a while since this is only the beginning and you don’t want me making too much noise. That in itself drives me to distraction of fear and anxiety. What more could you do to me than pushing your finger in my ass I ask myself?

You push your finger all the way in and hold it there, watching my face. Then you twist it slowly around and pull a little way out. Then you slowly pump it in and out, working the muscles and opening me up a little better. With the speculum spread wide there feels no room whatsoever for the one finger but then you tell me you are going to insert another. I plead with you to stop, that I have had enough, that I made a mistake coming here, but you tell me to relax, that you know from how I am dripping wet, that what you are doing is arousing me but that you must continue with your examination. I feel your other finger at the entrance to my hole and hold my breath as I feel you start to push it in. I cry out in shock as you quickly force it right in to join the other and now I can just see far enough down between my legs to the two fingers pushed deep into my most shameful place. You then start to twist them, pump them slowly, in and out, in and out, then with your other hand you reach into my gaping vagina with two fingers and the fingers in both my holes seem to meet through a thin, stretched wall of flesh between my rectum and vagina. I moan and cry out as you begin to rub the fingers of both hands together inside me while looking searchingly at my face for my reaction. I am watching your hands and can see the steel of the speculum painfully forcing me wide and gaping. You manipulate me with both hands, you prod, you push, you pressure while my moans grow and my head tosses from side to side. It is so uncomfortable. I am breathing so hard, gasping as you become rougher, working your hands a little faster, adding more pressure. Then suddenly you pull both hands away and I almost scream in as much shock as having them there in the first place. You tell me how aroused I am, how you can see my clitoris straining, swollen and red with its hood pulled back because the forceps have pulled my labia so wide. You remove the gloves and immediately snap on a new pair. I wonder if I can take any more of your examination, fearing you had not touched any of the really evil looking instruments that lie on the trolley and wondering if your fingers were just a taster, just to open me up so you can really get going in earnest.

You stand up and tell me you are going to let me rest a little “down there” but then you move your stool up the exam table so you are in line with my breasts again. The speculum still holds me open so I am still uncomfortable but you tell me you want to examine my breasts again. I am almost relieved since my nipples have been embarrassingly aching for your touch and the thought of your touch this time with your fingers encased in the latex gloves, is even more exciting. You tell me that this time you want to explore my response to a little pain on my breasts and I immediately tense. You pull the trolley closer to you and pick up a smaller pair of forceps than those holding my labia gaping open. Your gloved thumb and forefinger plucks my right nipple and grips it tight enough for me to gasp. You tell me that you are going to ?examine’ it and then it will be swollen enough for you to clamp it with the forceps. Again, I try to move, but with my hands bound above my head, my ankles firmly in the stirrups, the forceps clamped onto my labia and the speculum filling my vagina, I am absolutely immobile. You murmur words of comfort and encouragement, which you temper with letting me know exactly what you are going to do. You pull at the nipple, squeezing firmly and twisting, gently at first, but increasing the pressure while looking into my eyes. My breathing quickens again and I bite my lip. You work on my nipple, tugging it higher, watching as it reddens. Then you take the cold, steel forceps and slowly but firmly clamp them around the hardened bud bringing a cry from me. Then you start giving my other nipple the same treatment. Later, you tell me, you will have your nurse here to do this for you, and to ensure that my breasts are not neglected while you examine and treat my more intimate parts. But you feel I am not ready for that yet and you are still trying to gauge my limits. You stop talking and concentrate on manipulating my other nipple, pulling at the surrounding aureole this time, not just the nipple. You start gently and I am quickly moaning with shameful pleasure. You gently rub, push, pressure, squeeze. The sensations feed quickly down to my gaping vagina and I can imagine my juices running over the steel of the speculum, down to my exposed asshole. You increase the pressure a little of your fingers and slowly but surely the pleasure turns into something else, a little darker yet still very bearable. But suddenly you give a hard tug to the aroused flesh and squeezing the aureole and nipple you clamp down the forceps onto the aureole so that the outer flesh as well as the nipple are squeezed into the forceps. I cry out and move my head from side to side in pain, but still the pleasure seems to override it and I know I am pouring juice. You sit and watch my reactions for a moment before moving down between my legs again. You tell me you are happy with my stamina so far and feel I can take much more. Part of me wants to escape but part of me also wants to experience, to understand the place you are taking me to ? a place I have only imagined in my fantasies but one which I had never dared talk about let alone explore in reality.

Without warning you remove the speculum and I feel the pressure released. Your fingers circle my clitoris for a moment, gently pressuring the exposed nub. I can see your cock is absolutely erect against your scrubs and wonder how on earth you can be so aroused for so long without having any form of physical stimulation or release. My fear and dread appear to be turning into curiosity and I have already concluded that perhaps the reason I cannot reach orgasm with my lovely, kindhearted boyfriend is that I need a much greater psychological and physical stimulation. I had always fantasized about visiting the doctor, or even the dentist, being tied down and examined but never in a million years dreamed that the fantasy would even touch on reality. Now I understood that there was an entire world to explore and incredibly I have met somebody; a cool, masterful, experienced and imaginative doctor to lead me down the path.

As your fingers worked on my clit you told me what you had planned for me next. You asked me whether I had ever been stimulated using electric currents and I almost laughed ? nobody had even touched my ass let alone given me electric shocks! But then I sobered almost instantly. Is this something I wanted to experience? The thought made my vagina tense in fear but certainly in anticipation. But certainly I didn’t want to be forced into it, to be tied down with no means of stopping the treatment. But somehow I didn’t think you were going to give me a choice in that. I said that maybe next time. I could see you smile behind your mask, a cold, calculating smile that chilled me slightly. You then asked whether a doctor had ever inserted a catheter into me. At that I baulked and said whatever you had in mind, no way. I had certainly had fantasies about being made to drink a lot of water then been restrained. In my fantasy the doctor would then push gloved fingers into me while pushing down on my belly, forcing me to wet myself, soaking the sheet beneath me on the examination table. The shame and humiliation would cause tears to course down my cheeks, along with the physical sensations brought on by the pressure from his fingers. I admitted this sheepishly to you but insisted I would not consider a catheter? No way.

You then tell me you will be giving me an enema at the next examination so that I will be clean for the treatment you selected (you did not specify what that was though). Again I had read about enemas but really felt they were not for me since they were just too darned embarrassing. I told you so but you insisted that you would have to do it and I would grow to like it. Grow to like it? How many times was I going to come and submit myself to his so called examinations I wondered? Then, as if that wasn’t enough, you said you would now be injecting my breasts since you felt I was in fact ready for extra stimulation. The forceps were still closed tight on them, the tender flesh already feeling tortured and abused. So again you change your gloves and move back to my breasts as almost an afterthought. I was obviously giving the right feedback, fortunately or unfortunately since you told me you were surprised at my arousal and passion for the examination and you had decided you could take me further on this first appointment than you had first anticipated. I disagreed and said I had just about as much as I could take and begged you to untie me now if I promised to come back again. But you just took both pairs of forceps that had my tender flesh clamped into them and started to rotate them slightly, causing me to cry out. You watched my face as it reddened again. You pulled the forceps up slightly, causing me to try to lift my upper body from the exam table in an effort to prevent the pain you were causing, but it was no good. I gasped again and again as you pulled and gently twisted the forceps so the steel tugged and squeezed my bruised flesh. You reached down and gently touched my clitoris causing me almost to scream with arousal. I had no idea that pain could do this to me, and not only that but your manner, your cold eyes, your gentle but cool encouragement, your forcefulness, the fact that I was so immobile, restrained, tied, in your full control. It was all a sensory overload that left my heart about to burst out of my chest.

Chapter 2

The forceps hung from my breasts as you reached to the trolley and picked up a small syringe. Then you ripped open a packet and withdrew a small needle. I was almost relieved since I knew where it was going, that it was only a small one, but the relief was short lived when you told me you would be starting the examination using a small needle and in later examinations you would increase the size. You then plunged the needle into a vial and filled the syringe. You told me that you would inject both breasts with the solution and this would heighten my sensitivity and response. I felt I was already at a limit and begged you not to do it, that it wasn’t necessary, anything but please don’t stick needles into my breasts. You took a swab and wiped down a small patch of skin just below the aureole on my right breast. I was tense and fearful, dreading the needle pricking my tender flesh, dreading watching it push deep into my breast. I had no choice but to watch since I was tied down in such a position that I could not look away. Anyway, you warned me that I had to watch or you would immobilize my head so I had no option. At least I had some movement there, if none anywhere else.

You slowly brought the needle towards my breast and I watched almost in fascination as you pushed the needle slowly into the tender flesh. It punctured and you slowly pushed it in, almost up to the hilt as I bit down on my lip and stifled a cry. You did not depress the plunger straight away, instead leaving it still and watching me. I could see the needle all the way in, your thumb ready to push the liquid into my tit. As you held the needle in place you asked me if I had ever had a doctor twist a needle in my flesh. I cried out to you not to do it, wanting to writhe on the table but knowing it would only make it more unbearable. Very slowly, almost as if in slow motion, you turn the syringe so the needle began to twist in my tender flesh. My teeth were clamped closed and I cried out through them, but at the same time some separate part of my brain was whirring with the excitement of what you were doing. Somehow it was arousing me beyond anything I could imagine. I couldn’t separate the pain from the erotic psychology of what you were doing, the look in your eyes as you watched my discomfort, as you watched my arousal, as you controlled every part of me. On you twisted the needle until I thought I could really not take any more then you stopped and slowly depressed the plunger so the clear liquid was pushed into my breast. I gasped at the sensation and watched as you slowly emptied the syringe into me. You seemed to make sure every last drop was pushed out before very slowly withdrawing the needle. I almost screamed out as immediately you had withdrawn it you took the forceps and gave my nipple a cruel tug. You pulled it left, then right, back and forth as I cried out. You told me to be quiet but I couldn’t stop crying out. The shock of the injection then the immediate attack on my nipple left me without reason. You released the forceps then from the lower tray of the trolley took a ball gag. I had not seen it there and begged you not to use it, that it wasn’t necessary. You placed it on my abdomen while taking a strap from the trolley as well. I struggled as you placed the strap over my forehead and somehow connected it to the examination table so my head was absolutely immobile. You then placed the gag gently but firmly into my mouth. That was it - I was absolutely, totally and utterly at your mercy. I felt my eyes tearing up and hot tears of humiliation and fear slide down the sides of my face. You were comforting, telling me to relax and take it easy, but it was tinged with threat and the knowledge that I was totally incapacitated.