This happened to me about 15 years ago, in Southern California. I returned from Europe with a serious sinus infection, was new to the area and did not have a physician yet. A female friend recommended a gp whose office was close to my home. He was an older (late 50s/60s) gp, with a demeanor that I can best describe as grandfatherly - soothing voice, gentle hands, soft voice.
The first appointment, after I gave my medical history, he stood up, told me to strip to the waist, and he then left the room. I presumed he needed to check my lungs, etc. There was no drape. When he returned, I was sitting on the examinning table, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. He first took my temperature, and then my blood pressure, strapping the cuff to my arm and lightly brushing my breast as he did so. After annotating his records, he stepped over to the table again, quite close to me, looked in my eyes, ears, mouth, then put the cold stethoscipe first on my back, then on my chest, directing me to take and hold deep breaths. He held the steth under my left breast for quite a while as I do have a small heart murmer, and he asked me about it at the same time. He slightly lifted my breast with his other hand to do this.
He then instructed me to lie down, and once again placed the stethoscope under my left breast to listen to my heart, having me roll on my side so he could hear it better. He then had me lie again on my back and conducted a full breast exam, following which he asked me to sit up again, facing him, at the edge of the examining table. He then told me to extend my arms straight out to the sides, then straight over my head, and then behind my back. He stood in front of me and looked directly at my breasts as I did this, a couple of times reaching out to touch one of my breasts on the side, just below my armpit. At the same time, he also did things like move a pencil around and tell me to follow it with my eyes. The entire time he was examining my breasts and having me move my arms, he continued to speak in a soft monotone, explaining that if indeed it was an infection in my head that it would be devilishly difficult to get rid of, and that the biggest danger would be for it to spread. I presume that this was the rationale he was giving me for the extensive chest exam. He then sat, or leaned, against his desk, just a few feet away from me, and continued to discuss my condition with me - and all the while, I sat there nude from the waist up. I was too sick to think much about what he was doing, and nothing he did seemed untoward - at the time.
He diagnosed the sinus infection, and treated me for four months as it was fiendishly difficult to get rid of. Since I lived only about 4 blocks from his office, he had me come in two times a week for antibiotic injections, and once a week for a check up. Each of the checkup visits, he followed the same procedure: I stripped to the waist, he checked my vitals, then conducted a complete breast exam, followed by the various arm movements. I was not really aware of how slowly he did all of this at the beginning, because I was so sick I could hardly think. But as I began to get better, I realized that the bulk of the exam was conducted in and around my breasts, and that he was very slow in all of his manipulations: when he moved his hands around my breasts, he did so with great deliberation, lingering on each circular movement, and at the end, when he squeezed my nipples, he drew his face close to get a good look at them as he rolled them between his thumb and forefinger.
The days I came in for the injection he personally did the injection - having me unbutton my blouse and roll it off of my shoulder as he prepared the syringe. At this point he almost always brought out the stethoscope to hear my heart, which entailed either lifting the bra over my breast (I always wear underwite) or unhooking in the back so that he could reach under the breast.
I was still too intimidated by physicians to say or do anything, or even to let myself think much about it; he was so grandfatherly that initially it did not dawn on me that there was anything out of the ordinary. I do remember sitting across from him on one occasion trying to figure out how I should hold my arms - semi crossed with my hands between my thighs or straight with my hands holding onto the edge of the examining table. The first position pushed my breasts together while the second thrust them out. I just could not figure out what to do, and finally on one occasion I asked him if I could put my bra back on. He said of course - and sat there talking to me (and watching) as I did so. Even then, I was sitting directly in front of him now with only my bra on.
There were at least 16 such visits over four months, plus the visits for the injections, and then he had me come back for another four or five months, once a month. I even continued going to him for everything but gyn exams for another three or four years. Then one day, uncomfortable, I confided in my female friend how weird it felt to have him examine my breasts every time. She laughed and said that he did the same thing with her (she is even more buxom than I, and I am a natural 38DD) and that she was sure he was titillated by it. At that point, I got irritated; but if truth be told, once I began to understand what he was doing and had gotten over the embarassment, I secretly enjoyed baring my breasts for him, feeling his hands apparently inadvertently brush against them during the stethoscipe exam, then feeling his hands gently rubbing them and finally rolling and squeezing the nipples with ever greater intensity until he pinched them hard. In the years since I have fantasized many times about those experiences, about the way it felt to have him look at my breasts ostensibly with a professional eye, but instead obviously not. I suspect that is why I continued to go to him, because whatever the occasion, whether it was a cold, the flu, or even a problem with my foot, off came the blouse and bra for the full scale exam. My breasts were stimulated so slowly that eventually it became difficult to contain my arousal, and I almost always went home and masturbated after the visit.
No physician has done anything like that to me since, but when I recently read about a southern california dentist under indictment for massaging his patients' breasts (to treat some jaw condition!!) I felt a spark of envy, and dismay that he now has two attendants with him at all times while he is awaiting a trial. I would certainly have gone to him had I known!