Easing back down onto the exam table, I take a deep breath and resign myself to my coming fate. “Your last pelvic exam and Pap were 8 years ago, correct? You haven’t had either done elsewhere?” I hear plastic crinkling and things being shuffled around then Dr. Max resumes his spot squarely between my spread thighs. “I haven’t been examined anywhere else, no.“ He sighs as he pulls on fresh gloves, letting them snap at his wrists with little popping sounds. “It sounds like you need someone making sure you take better care of yourself. I bet your eating, sleeping, and exercising habits are all sporadic and irregular too.” His hands move in towards me and out of my sight. “You’ll feel my touch now. Going to start with a visual check then go from there.”

Once again I resist the urge to clamp my legs together and regain some sense of privacy and control. How can he possible know I prefer to keep my schedule fluid and flexible? There’s nothing wrong with living my life in a way that works for me, is there? Lost in thought, I momentarily forget where I am, until I hear a little dinging sound of clinking metal. “Time for the speculum,” he tells me, interrupting my musing. “Since it’s been so long, I want to make sure I get high quality samples. That means not using lubrication until after the swabs. I’m also going to take a few extras. This might be a little extra uncomfortable going in.” I’m thinking I’m surprised there was no rude comment about me not remembering what it feels like anyway when I feel the tip pressing in. I groan and all of my muscles contract instinctively. “If you don’t relax, I can’t get it in. If I can’t get it in, we’re going to sit here until I can. See the dilemma? Relax!” He sort of roars that last word, and I can’t help thinking it’s kind of hot. My interest distracts me enough to stop clenching my muscles. The pressure he’s maintaining causes it to slide in all the way. I groan and squirm a bit, feeling full. “That’s a good girl, now let’s get you opened up and have a look.” His praise combined with the reminder that there’s more filling inevitable has me squirming again. “Hold still, this isn’t hurting you, it’s just uncomfortable, unfamiliar. You’d be used to it if you made your health more of a priority.” I roll my eyes and try to rein in my irritation and my slowly building arousal. I’ve never felt so conflicted in my life, and I really don’t want to let him get to me on either front. “Not sure any woman really gets used to being spread eagle and jacked open, no matter how many times she’s subjected. I’m holding as still as I can.”

He’s been ignoring my grumbling and cranking the speculum open as I talk. With one final cringe on my part, he stops. “There we go, let’s have a good look and get those samples.” He grabs a small light from his tray and turns it on, aiming it right down into my vagina. “Cervix looks good, inner walls look good. Let’s get to swabbing. I’m going to do four, starting with the Pap smear.” He holds up the little brush looking swab then pushes it into my spread vagina. I gasp, feeling a little pinch, but it’s not that bad. The next two I barely notice, they feel more like a tickle than anything. “You’re doing good, last one now then we can remove the speculum and move on.” I let out a little sigh of relief, this has been much less bad than I expected. I see him moving towards my gaping spread again and suddenly it feels like he’s stabbing me. I shriek and try to move away but it’s almost impossible with my legs in the stirrups and the speculum shoved inside me. “Owwww, hey! What is that, it feels like a knife!” He pulls whatever it is out and holds it up to show me. It’s just a swab with a bit of blood on it. My blood. “Just a regular swab, I just needed to get deeper into your cervix. Sometimes it’s a little uncomfortable. Let’s get this speculum out now.” I shoot him a dirty look and try to calm my breathing. “Uncomfortable doesn’t mean what you seem to think it means. Are we almost done yet?”

Setting the dirty speculum aside with a clank, he looks down the table to make eye contact with me. “Next is the internal exam. I’m going to slide two fingers inside, check your cervix and walls. Then I’ll do the bimanual exam, with my other hand on your lower abdomen. Ready?” I hear the squishy sound of lube then feel his fingers pushing into my vagina. He enters me fully with one smooth move. I can’t hold back a moan. It’s been so long and feels so good I almost forget he didn’t actually answer my question. I debate pressing the issue but doubt he’ll tell me anything he doesn’t want to. “That feel ok? Not uncomfortable?” He gives me his patented smirk, no doubt feeling me twitch around his fingers. “It’s fine, thanks. Almost done?” He works his fingers, feeling around my cervix, before slowly withdrawing them, swirling his fingers around to feel every bit of my inside. I shudder as he brushes over my g spot, and I peek through half closed eye lids to see him flash a grin. “Bimanual next. Many woman describe this as not comfortable. Better choice of words for you?” Sighing loudly, I look up at the ceiling. “Not really, but it doesn’t really matter what I think or want now does it?” Standing up, he places his left hand on my lower abdomen and presses down to meet his internal fingers. He moves his hands around to different spots, some more tender than others. “I assumed you think it would be a good idea to make sure you’re healthy. That you would want to be healthy.” He looks me right in the eye as if challenging enough to refute his logic. That’s how he sees me flinch. “Is that sore there? That’s your ovary, does it hurt when I feel it?” I shake my head and his eyes narrow. “Sorry. It doesn’t exactly hurt, but it doesn’t feel good either. None of this jabbing my belly feels good.” He pushes a little more firmly then moves to the other side. “Does one side hurt more than the other or do they feel similar?” I tilt my head for a second, pausing to consider the question. “About the same, maybe a little more on the right side. Why, do you feel something?” He removes his hand from my abdomen and slips his fingers from my vagina, pulling his gloves off. “No, but it’s nice to see you do actually care about your health. You should be very close to ovulation in your cycle. Some women have a bit of discomfort in the active ovary at that time.”

He reaches for new gloves and works his fingers in them. I frown, wondering what could possibly be left to do. He sits back down on his stool and picks up the tube of lubricant. “Uhhhh, aren’t we done? You’ve stuck your fingers everywhere now, I think I’m good.” He gets a slightly evil look on his face briefly but it disappears before he looks up at my face. “Rectovaginal exam. Very important for assessing the health of your reproductive organs, as well as your anus and rectum. Doesn’t hurt, hold still.” Not giving me a second to protest, he pushes his middle finger into my anus as he slides his index finger back into my vagina. Caught off guard, I make a strange grunting sound and try to move away. “I said, hold still. There’s no point in stopping now, the hard part is past.” He grips my hip with his free hand, halting my backward movements. His fingers push in until I can feel the webbing between them against my perineum. “Ugh, that’s… that’s… it’s weird and strange and I don’t like it. I’ve never had anything in there before.“ He looks at me and raises an eyebrow. He withdraws his fingers but before I can react, he’s pushed a finger back past my anus and into my rectum. He starts working his finger around in circles, manually inspecting every surface. I try to move but he’s still gripping my hip, and he tightens his fingers, holding me in place. “Almost done with this. Don’t forget, my finger wasn’t the first thing back there, my thermometer was.” His finger is almost out of my rear when he shoves it back in as deep as he can. He moves it around like he’s probing something in there. “Just as I suspected earlier during my abdominal exam. You’re all backed up and need to be cleaned out for the final step.” He withdraws his finger and I let out a little squeaky sound, unable to ask if he means what I hope he doesn’t.