Section 14

I am rather proud, in an understated British way, of my couch. It's a little more sophisticated than the average GP couch - a bit like a dentist's chair.

I pump the pedal and raise it up a few inches, then - and this is the really good part - tilt it back slightly so that Lia's head is now lower than her bottom. Perfect.

I wheel over my stool and position myself comfortably in front of her, legs spread either side of me and all her womanhood spread in front of me. From my tray a pick up a fresh pair of gloves and snap them on. It probably doesn't have any effect on Lia by now, but just the sound of latex gloves snapping has been enough to frighten or excite some of my patients when they've been in this position. I switch on the lamp and position that so it gives me the best light on her exposed body.

I pick up my rectal thermometer and a tube of lubricant. Sufficient, but not too much lube and then, parting her cheeks, I insert the thermometer quickly, straight in, as far as it will go, hardly giving her sphincter muscles time to react. It stays there for a few minutes in order to give a reliable reading. While its inserted I massage her abdomen again.

I pull the thermometer out of her rectum - a normal reading but it might have to be checked again later.

Not many students realise this but pubic hair is a great barrier to a proper gynaecological examination. The hairs get in the way, catch on the instruments and so my preference is to have my patients shaven. Lia isn't and her soft pubes actually aren't too intrusive, but better safe than sorry, so I pick up my water spray and dampen her hairs a little, while massaging in some foam. I pick up the razor and then proceed to carefully shave her pubic hair until she's completely bare. All the anatomical features are now clearly visible. It'll be a bit prickly as it grows back, or perhaps she'll like to stay that way.

I use the small douche to clean the remainder of the shaved hairs from her body and then insert the nozzle into her vagina, cleaning there as well. As I wipe the excess moisture away I feel a slight tremour run through her body but perhaps it is my imagination.

I change gloves, again making sure that there is a loud snap as I manoeuvre my hands in them comfortably. I take a good look at her external genitalia; it all looks nice and healthy, a little red from the shave perhaps. I pull the labia apart and notice nothing out of the ordinary.

I always check the speculum before I use it. It's always the large size. After all, if a vagina's flexible enough for an erect penis, it's flexible enough for a large speculum. I check that the blades open and close without catching, making sure that they make a sound as they close together, signalling what is to come. And none of this rinsing under warm water either. I touch her inner thigh briefly before inserting the blades of the speculum. I push it down a little then along, until the instrument is inserted fully into her. Then - the blades. I open them until there is a little resistance, then wait a little and then continue to open them to their fullest extent. A small gasp -- not of pain I think -- from the head of the couch. Internally Lia looks very healthy, her vaginal walls good shade of pink, and her cervix an excellent example of the organ!

I use a wooden spatula and brush to collect cell samples for a pap smear, then release the blades to the closed position. But, instead of removing the instrument I rotate it through 90 degrees and open it again - just to make sure all is well.

The blades finally close for the last time, and I remove the speculum.

I put some lubrication on my right index finger and push the stool closer to Lia.

Section 15

The snap of latex is usually not a soundI notice, since it's part of my everyday life. But in this context it's electrifying. Delicate shivers roll along my scalp and down my spine. The feeling radiates down through my arms and probably giving me goosebumps. I wonder if he notices.

The quick, cold penetration is a surprise. I keep my lips tight together and just sniff in a breath. No point in moaning like a virgin -- it might make him laugh.

From its diameter and from the length it stays inside my body, I deduce he's using a thermometer. However, it's hard to concentrate on anything but his hand moving in slow, confident circles on my belly. And then, oh god yes, he's shaving me. The steadiness of his strokes, the equanimity with which he bares me, it all makes it so terrible to be blindfolded. I want to watch. I need look into his eyes and see if he's in any way affected by this. The thought that he --

Ohhh. A rush of something, probably water, cleansing me outside and in. If it didn't brand me as a complete slut I'd push down onto the nozzle, although I'm so keyed up right now that the little ritual forces a little tremor out of me anyway. Damn traitorous nerves -- stop being so sensitive.

He's checking my vulva now. His hands are right up against my skin, which is slick from the water, and what I can only imagine is me. His touch is as practised as I imagined; no fumbling around for our dear Dr. Brian. In fact, his fingers are like a battalion of redcoats in Virginia fields, seeking to take back every square inch. It's a good thingI wasn't a revolutionary, orI might've given it all up just to be restrained by a skilled army surgeon with an ample toolkit and a knowing smile.

His hands leave me for a few seconds and I know what's coming next but the rapidity and chill of what goes up inside me are shocking, to say nothing of the size. Unhh. He inserts the spec overtop of his doubled fingers, angling it posteriorly, and I can't fault his technique, except for the fact that he opens it much faster thanI was ready for. No, scratch that. Way faster thanI expected, butI can receive it without pain and, in fact, with more than a little welcome. It would be so much nicer if I had his hot flesh filling me up, but I'll take cold metal in the emergency situation that this has clearly become.

A little discomfort for the cell samples, and the he actually rotates the speculum inside of me and expands the blades laterally -- something I was specifically taught not to do, as the vertical orientation aids in covering the external tissues. Is he going to touch my clit now? I itch for the contact and feel lost when he stays maddeningly professional.

When the speculum retreats I actually feel a pang of loss.

Section 16

I part her lips carefully, rubbing my lubed finger around the entrance to her vulva before pushing in as far as I can. I employ an unusual examination technique, rotating and pushing in and out making sure that my finger covers all the vaginal surfaces I can reach.

Two fingers next; it extends my reach a little, and with some pressure from my other hand on her abdomen so that I can palpate the ovaries which both feel fine. I extend the exam beyond that which is clinically required and notice that her vagina is very wet. Very wet indeed, to the extent that the lube is unnecessary; the continued pushing movement reaching across her clitoris to the back reaches of her vaginal cavity seem to increase it.

I retreat before Lia explodes: I can feel her writhing against the restraints. But another change of gloves, some more lube and the recto-vaginal exam: one finger in the vagina, the other in the rectum. This doesn't take long to confirm that there is no reason to prolong it.

Perhaps to Lia's surprise, I undo the restraints, allowing her to stretch and restore her circulation a little. I do not remove the blindfold.

"Turn over and kneel, bending forward so your arms are on the couch" I instruct. Fantastic - her bottom high in the air but she has to keep that position so back with the restraints on the ankles and wrists.

I prepare the proctoscope: long, cold steel. I coat it in lube and place it against her anus. She tenses but I push it in - all the way in. I remove the inner tube and switch on the illuminating light. To be honest rectums are not that exciting to look at, but I take my time withdrawing the 'scope examining the interior of her rectum for splits, fissures, piles and the like. Of course there aren't any. But it could do with a good clean, so after the final withdrawal, I move the enema kit across. Just some warm, slightly soapy water, nothing out of the ordinary.

I lube up the nozzle and insert it into Lia. I am not sure if she is expecting an enema but for me they are an essential, if under-rated, form of preventative treatment. I like to be in control of the process, so use a bulb to squeeze the liquid in rather than relying on gravity. I squeeze the bulb a couple of times then massage her abdomen. A few more squeezes and the liquid has finished. With strict instructions to retain the enema, I go over to the sink and prepare another bowl. I return and repeat so that Lia must be absolutely bursting but she must retain the full amount for a while yet.

She becomes more and more agitated as it becomes more difficult to hold the liquid. It's nice to see this pert bum waving in the air! FinallyI release the restraints and remove her blindfold and she scampers off to the toilet like a rocket, returning somewhat more demurely a few minutes later. She catches my eye but I refuse to engage with her, motioning her back up on to the couch and telling her to assume the same position - bum in the air. She is restrained once more but I leave the blindfold off as she can't really turn round.

I insert the proctoscope again - this time taking much more time over it's insertion and removal. Then, and only then, do I allow myself the luxury of the DRE.

One finger, then two - and then three. I wonder if I dare try any more.

Section 17

He's finger-banging me now. There's no other word for it except "slow" and "hot" and "wonderful". His other hand brushes my abdomen, taking stock of my vital organs including my bladder which is a little full from all the coffee I drank this morning to try and wake up. That extra bit of pressure adds to the dozens of sensations that make it hard to think coherent thoughts. It's a good thing he's not having me articulate now or I'd babbling like an idiot.

In the silence I can hear the slick little noises as he probes me. It's maddening.

ButI can't get off because even though he's found that little quarter-sized patch of goodness on my anterior vaginal wall, he doesn't stay there long enough. So although his fingers inside of me are heavenly, they're just sending me higher without any hope of a descent, not without contact with a very specific organ. I clench my fists and my teeth in frustration, needing to come so very badly. But, hey, this is an improvement over the speculum at least.

The rectovaginal exam is another step up, but still not what I really need, especially since it's over too fast. I get my arms and legs back after that, but it's not long before I'm kneeling with my throbbing and no doubt striped posterior high in the air while he ties me down again and inserts -- what the hell is that? I don't even know, I've never felt something like that before. And I'm such bundle of pulsing need it takes me awhile to access anything as cerebral as memory and still longer to dig through it, down the lest of medical instruments I know, to hit upon what it's got to be.

Then another device, something smaller. It really is a surprise when I feel the rush of liquid and right away I start to panic. I'm restrained! How does he expect me to use the bathroom if I'm tied down? Is this another test? His hand on my belly is as gentle as his voice is firm. I'm to keep it in.

The second dose nearly makes me come undone. I'm so full already. He can't give me any more, he just can't! But he does and I need to be a good girl and take it or I'll be forever in disgrace. Except, ohhh, this is all so new. And there have been so many tests already: the run, the caning, the books in my hands. I'm exhausted. I want nothing so much as to curl up on the floor underneath his desk, holding his shaft in my mouth and worshipping it with slow tongue-strokes.

I'm full, so full. I can't think of anything except the stretch and the way I need to almost buck on the table to keep everything inside. My terror of disappointing him looms large. The cramps are worse now. I keen into my fisted hands and bite my knuckles, shivering, needing release even more than I need him, now.

It's some kind of miracle that I make it to the exam room's tiny bathroom. The release, when I'm finally on the seat, is almost orgasmic. Almost.

I consider sneaking a hand down to jack off, but he'd know and then who knows what other trials he could inflict. No, better to just come on back and look at him beseechingly, as well as to check for -- damn white coat. I still can't tell if this has affected him at all.

The cold slide of the proctoscope is next, but then his fingers after that and it's such a treat. Warm. Human. Him.

And he's sohh thorough. My body quakes and I hum into the back of one hand as he gives me another finger, stretching me widely, no doubt obscenely. When he inserts finger number threeI can't help it. I hiss a needy, sibilant "yes" into the silent room. I'm filled to capacity now, deliciously tight and loving it. Is he prepping me for something else? I really hope so, although the angle is all wrong and there's nothing indicating that he'll let me have anything but what he deems good and proper. But I hope, oh, I hope. I even squeeze around him with the idea of coaxing out some kind of response -- a murmur, a gasp, anything.

Section 18

My DRE is complete, and as expected no abnormalities were discovered.

Only one thing left now - doesn't time fly when you are enjoying yourself!

I release all the restraints, remove the blindfold and tell Lia to sit on the side of the couch to allow herself to start getting the blood circulation back again.

"Just one thing left" I say. "The SFT".

Lia looks at me - obviously not an abbreviation she is familiar with.

"The Sexual Function Test" I explain. "You must masturbate until you achieve a climax. You may use, if you wish, any of the things on the instrument tray". She looked for a moment at me - with a look of desire or for some help, but quickly turned her attention where I directed it. She sees that in addition to the medical instruments, there are a number of sex toys, a vibrator amongst others.

"Do what you would normally do in order to achieve an orgasm, please" I say, and then retreat back to my desk where I sit, pretending to complete my notes, but in reality watching Lia and wishing that I could join her. But that would be unprofessional, wouldn't it?

Lia comes quite quickly. I expected it, as her signs of arousal during the examination have been growing increasingly obvious and urgent. I hope that this will act as an outlet for some time, since I have further plans for Lia today.

After a short rest I instruct her to get up, put her bra and panties back on and come to the desk. She stands in front of me, hands by her sides, upright and with no twisted straps.

"I am pleased to say that you have passed your physical" I tell her, "but there is one more element before I can accept you. Shortly I have a new patient booked in for the afternoon. A man presenting with pain in the testicles. I want you to conduct his examination. It will need to be a full and complete one as he is a new patient. He will of course be expected to obey the rules just as you were and here is a copy of his appointment card".

"Welcome to the GP clinic at St. Hope's. You should expect for several hours as you will require a very thorough checkup as a new patient. St Hope's has high standards for its staff and patients and you'll be expected to adhere to the hospital's dress code. This include being smart - no jeans or trainers; matching underwear - boxer shorts or briefs; a smart business suit with a shirt underneath. Overall you will be neat, tidy and professional. " Lia reads

Lia's question is written on her face. "You'll see the patient in this room and all the instruments here will be sterilized and the room cleaned before he arrives. I expect you to examine him to the standard and in the way that you have been examined. I shall be next door and if you need help then please ask. I may also come in to see how you are doing. The history forms are here". She looks down, rushing past the standard questions and sure enough: are you a virgin, favourite sexual fantasy....

She blushes but sees that I am quite serious. Her career hangs on her being able to do this professionally, but is up to the job? She dresses, and goes to get lunch. She returns at 1:50 and I hand her a white coat with the hospital's logo above the breast pocket.

"Any questions?" I ask.

She shakes her head.

A knock at the door. I look at Lia; this is her consultation.

"Come in" she says. As the new patient enters, I tell Lia that I will see her later. ThenI walk out, shutting the door behind me.

We will have a full debrief over dinner later tonight. I am looking forward to it, especially teaching Lia some of the new exam techniques.

Section 19

As I'm rubbing the circulation back into my ankles, which I've pulled up and to the side on the table, Dr. Brian tells me that there is one more part of the examination left -- something called an SFT.

I blink at him, unable to fathom what he means.

"The Sexual Function Test" he explains. "You must masturbate until you achieve a climax. You may use, if you wish, any of the things on the instrument tray".

Said in his measured voice, his instructions sound completely neutral and it takes me a moment to put meaning to the words. But, as ever, he's serious. It takes just one look at his face to make that clear. And so much has happened since this morning that bringing myself off in front of a man that I desperately hope will be my new boss doesn't really seem like that much of a stretch anymore. So I choose the most anatomically correct vibrator on the tray. Then I lie back, press it against my shaved and no doubt glistening cunt, and go to town.

Lust is making me impatient and I don't spend long on preliminaries. I just hold the purple wand against myself, tracing a stiff-sore nipple with the other hand and then grabbing the whole breast. Within a couple of minutes, the contractions start. It's a cataract of pleasure that's so strong it nearly washes my sanity away. When the waters fall back, I'm still gasping.

Dr. Brian's steady voice is there to draw me back, instructing me to reclaim my underwear and stand before him in order to hear that the ordeal is not, in fact, over. I'll get my position only after seeing a new patient, in this room, using the exact same protocol Dr. Brian used on me.

My knees, already weakened by that tidal wave of a climax, threaten to give out completely.

After I've eaten and had time to collect myself, I've settled into an odd state of calm. Maybe it's the jet-lag, but I feel removed from the situation, like I'm just some actor in a medical drama. So when the new patient comes in and has the looks of a younger Alan Rickman, it doesn't seem out of place.

"Hello Ethan, I'm Dr. Chan. I'll be conducting your examination this afternoon. Since you're a new patient, we'll do the full physical before we address the problem that brought you here. Do you have any questions before we begin?"

I look up from the nearly blank chart I've been scanning. He just shakes his head once, as serious as the grave. I purse my lips and give him a critical once-over. He'll need to be more talkative than this if I'm going to get to the bottom of what's troubling him.

On the other hand, I might have to give him some leeway. The symptom he's presenting would be embarrassing on its own, even without being a faced with a new hospital, plus a new doctor who's not only, young, and a woman, but a foreigner, too.

I'm also on tenterhooks, wondering what the examination will do to him. I honestly want to spare him the nonstandard questions and some of the more invasive procedures, but I don't dare. I have no illusions about keeping anything from Dr. Brian. if I deviate even slightly from the protocol, he'll find out. I have no desire to put my position in jeopardy.

So I start in with my questions, directing Ethan to occupy the chair in front of the desk while I sit against the side of it, making notes on the chart in my hands. It's impossible to sit where Dr. Brian, until so recently, had been surveying his domain -- I can't get over the feeling that the chair is his. Also, my rear end still hurts like a mother.

Section 20

I had been surprised by the appointment card, after all it's not usual for doctors or hospitals to worry overly much about what patients wear to an outpatients' appointment. But I had been told that Doctor Brian was very, very good and so accepted that as part of the deal. The friend who had recommended him described him as "eccentric" but she wouldn't go into much detail of her treatment other than to say that he'd helped her a great deal. I trusted her, so here I was as St. Hope's.

As entered the room a doctor pushed past me, leaving me to go in and meet Doctor Brian. Except that this could not possibly be him. It was a bit of a giveaway that she was female. Not only that but young. And when she spoke, obviously not from these parts. But on a closer look, not unattractive. Surely some mistake?

"Sorry - I was looking for Doctor Brian, I thought my appointment was with him?" I say in response to her introduction. But she brusquely waves me to the chair in front if the desk where she sits, looking slightly uncomfortable in the seat. She must be new, I think, as she also looks a little flushed. Embarrassed, perhaps, at having a male patient presenting with such a personal problem but surely doctors are trained to be professional in these circumstances? It's going to me who is embarrassed at admitting why I am there. The thought then hits me really for the first time. She will have to examine my balls. And penis. Not just looking, though that's bad enough, but touching as well. I suddenly feel a desire to run out of the room, it will just so embarrassing. I will inevitably get a hard on.

But it's too late, Doctor Chan has already pulled a file towards her, picked up a pen and checked my basic details: name, birthdate and so on. I answer, mumbling and stuttering, while wondering if there's any way I can get out of this. A sudden miraculous cure perhaps? I find it difficult to look at her. Not unattractive? I was wrong. When I do look I see the white coat covering some obvious female charms. OMG this gets worse by the minute. A female doctor aged about 70 with the physique of a discus thrower on steroids might have been all right. Doctor Chan is somebody I'd be happy to date. I can' t look at her in the eye, my gaze strays round the room and my mind wanders instead of dealing with the here and now. Lucky I'm not a woman, don't fancy those stirrups very much. And what's that instrument over there, don't recognise it, hope it doesn't go where the sun doesn't shine.

A sharp word from Doctor Chan brings me back to reality.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I ask.

Section 21

Being surprised to see me is understandable. But gazing at me like I'm some kind of fancy dessert is decidedly not, soI sharpen my voice. It gets his attention all right. SoI continue in a pointed tone all through the consultation.

"Tell me your height and weight.

"Aside from the issues listed in your chart, do you have any other symptoms today?"

He's still stumbling over his words. I don't like it. "Are you taking any medication?

"Have you had any serious illnesses or operations?"

His tie is askew. " Inoculations up to date?"

No, not askew exactly. It's knotted up to the throat as it should be, but the knot is uneven. There's also a dusty smudge on the sleeve of his jacket, as if he'd leaned up against something a little dingy.

"Do you now or have you ever suffered from dizziness, fainting, seizures, blood disorders, high or low blood pressure?

"Any allergies?

"Family history of heart disease, diabetes, cancer, depression, or mental illness?

"Any other issues today that I need to be made aware of?" A tendency to blush might be one of them, but if stereotypes are anything to be believed, that's endemic here in jolly old England.

"Do you smoke or drink?"

After he answers this, I move directly, without changing my position or the tone of my voice, to the second set of questions "What is your sexual orientation?"

"Are you sexually active?"

"How often do you have sex?"

"How many sexual partners have you had over the past year?"

"How often do you masturbate?"

" I'll need the date and a description of your most recent sexual encounter."

"What is your preferred position for intercourse?"

"Do you use sex toys regularly?"

"Describe your sexual fantasies."

"Do you engage in any nonstandard sexual practises?"

Section 22

So we go through the usual stuff until -

"Are you sexually active?"

That brings me up a bit.

"Err, yes," I say, managing to make it sound like as though it was a disease I had caught as a youngster.

"How often do you have sex?" I suppose with testicles being involved with sex there is some point to this. I think briefly about giving a facetious reply along the lines of "not often enough" but she has that look on her face which suggests that she would not find it funny.

"About 2 or 3 times a week," I reply, trying to think if that is accurate. The wild abandon of my teenage years is long gone, although with Doctor Chan I could see it being re-awakened.

How many sex partners? Two, I think. Depends what is meant by sex? Does some heavy petting at the office Christmas party count? Or does she mean penetrative sex? I decide on two, a nice safe number. Not too many and not too few.

How often do I masturbate? What is this? Is an ache in my balls some sort of STI? I shift uncomfortably in the seat really not sure I want to answer this. if I answer truthfully, will she have me down as some sort of sex fiend? if I answer less willI look like a sexual wimp? I aim in the middle deciding that she'll never know. "About once a day on average" I reply hoping this sounds average. After all we British don't do sex do we?

Date and description? Oh come on she is having a laugh. Another look at her face tells me she is not. Date - that's easy. Last Saturday night after a few bevvies down the pub. Description. No I can't tell her that I got off with the barmaid, Jodi; we went back to her place where after some conventional foreplay she suggested that I had been a bad boy and spanked me. I am not going to tell the delectable Doctor Chan that Jodi tied me up and then wanked me off, and that after that I tied her up, spanked her until she came and then we both cuddled untilI got another erection when we rutted in a variety of positions until exhausted. No Doctor Chan does not need to know that. "Oh you know, just err, normal sort of lovemaking, me on top, you know," I say, trying to sound convincing.

I think I see the relevance of this - after allI could have sprained a testicle or something during that night of passion. Can you sprain a testicle? I don't know. what I do know is that thinking about last Saturday is starting to have an effect on me. But instead of seeing Jodi tying me down I see Doctor Chan. At first just her face is clear but then the white coat, the thing they use to listen to your chest - oh my God, I am beginning to fantasize about her. My pants show what might be the start of a rather disturbing outline. I move and cross my legs hoping it will go away before she notices. But the questions continue. Preferred sexual position? Any one with you, Doctor. But can I admit to anything other than missionary? I am not sure how you'd describe it, really, so perhaps I won't try and settle for the conventional. Sex toys? Me? That vacuum pump is not a toy, that's a medically proven device for improving penis size -- it said so on the box -- so that doesn't count. I hope she notices my size after all the improvement exercises I've been doing with pump. No I decide, no toys, not regularly. After all last week's spanking is not exactly regular. SoI answer "no". And look down unable to meet her gaze.

Describe my sexual fantasies. I beg your pardon Doctor Chan? You might be wearing the white coat but this is a step too far. How can I possibly admit that the longer I sit in this consulting room the more erotically charged it becomes. The couch, the idea that I might have to take my clothes off and expose myself to a young woman who will touch me, feel me gently, perhaps not so gently, the feel of those latex gloves. No Doctor Chan, I cannot admit that to you. I can't admit that I rather like that idea.

"Oh you know the normal sort of thing." I say. "My partner dressed in a French maid uniform, stockings and suspenders, sexy lingerie that sort of thing." Even as I say it, I know it sounds lame. But as I speak Doctor Chan shifts slightly and I catch sight of a lacy bra through the gap in her blouse where it momentarily doesn't quite meet. Oh my God, I think I have just discovered another part of my fantasy. No Doctor Chan, you must not know this.

Do I engage in any non-standard sexual practices? What like shagging sheep? This is not Wales. I've heard about this game with ropes and oranges as well but no, being strangled does not appeal. And after all spanking's quite normal to some people. So the answer, Doctor Chan, is no. I am perfectly normal. Not at all strange.

She seems to about to say something, and then stops. Perhaps she was going to ask me some other disturbing question? Do you fancy me Ethan? Do you want to ravish me Ethan? Rip my white coat off? Oh yes, yes and yes Doctor Chan.

Instead she stands up and motions me to stand. I guess she's going to examine me now. My erection is still there but only just, but it won't take much for it to come right back. I gulp. This is going to be difficult.