A couple years ago, I read a comment by a Redditor who listed some of her kinks. One of them was a “pussy-examination kink”. I thought that sounded interesting so I wrote a story about it and sent it to her. It’s written in 2nd person because I was writing directly to her.
I figured someone here might be interested in it too. It’s not sexual, per se. It more about reluctantly being exposed.
Anyway, it’s a different type of story. Hope someone likes it.
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You’ve been down on your luck for a while – three separate part-time jobs and yet you can’t make ends meet. Various necessities have been neglected, and health care unfortunately has been one of them. It’s been 3 years since you’ve had a GYN appointment.
While at job #2, you overhear a coworker talking about the clinic at the University. You ask her about it and she tells you that she just had her exam and they only charged her $20. You ask what the catch is but she says “No catch – a female intern performed the exam and an attending physician stopped in to verify everything was ok. Easy-peasy and only twenty bucks.”
Soon after, you schedule an appointment. The day arrives and you go to the University hospital’s main building. On the 7th floor, you fill out the requisite forms and sheepishly pass over the insurance section. You tell the receptionist that you’ll pay cash, expecting a bit of side-eye. She’s not phased and says they’ll be with you shortly. You are amazed, and, quite honestly, thankful that this service exists.
15 minutes later you find yourself in an exam room. It’s just like any other exam room – posters on the wall, small models displaying a uterus, ovaries, etc. The room seems to be a bit larger than normal but nothing too odd about that.
In walks a petite woman, 34-36 years old. She’s in standard doctor regalia – white lab coat, stethoscope, hair pulled back into a ponytail. She introduces herself as Fatima and you see immediately the Persian features: olive skin, jet-black hair, and diminutive facial features. She begins to ask you questions from a checklist and you answer dutifully. You hope she doesn’t notice your tone when you admit to no sexual partners in…gosh!…has it been 14 months? Difficult times indeed.
When she’s completed the paperwork, she explains that she’ll step out of the room for a bit and that you’ll need to disrobe and slip into the hospital gown located in the corner. The exam will begin shortly afterwards.
You fold your clothes neatly and place them on a cart. The hospital robe is light blue with some sort of tan pattern, and you spend a minute figuring out how to tie it around your neck and waist. Nothing like a hospital gown to make you feel incredibly exposed.
You return to the examination table and sit unceremoniously at the end. You realize that you forgot to shave earlier and take a quick peek below. 4-day stubble covers you. So much for impressing pretty little Fatima.
Just as you readjust your gown, there is a short rap on the door. Fatima cracks it open and asks if you are dressed. She enters and starts to gather up the equipment necessary for the exam. She wheels out a cart from a closet and you are unsure what it’s all about. Just when you are about to ask her about it, another knock at the door interrupts you. She reaches over and opens the door and says “Come on in.”
You are shocked and horrified to see a stream of young people come through the door. You watch as the number grows to 14 people, all being directed to stand around your bed.
“Ummm, what’s going on?” you ask, voice trembling. Fatima stops arranging her students and turns to face you. “These are my first-year students, here to observe the exam. You weren’t aware of this? It was in the forms you signed. This is a teaching hospital, you know.”
Her curt answer catches you off guard. Her bedside manner is definitely lacking, and you feel small under her gaze. “My coworker didn’t mention there would be so many…” Your voice retreats as you speak. You glance around at the faces of the strangers staring at you. My God they look so young. They were split almost evenly between men and women. Did she say ‘first-year’ students? Oh wow – these folks just graduated with their undergrad degree. And of course your mind decides to alert you to the stubble between your legs.
You seriously consider bailing out of the exam. $20 is a great deal but is it worth the mental anguish and mortification of letting a room full of strangers see your most private areas?
“May we proceed? Ma’am?” You snap out of it and look over at the doctor. “May we proceed?” she repeats in a nasty tone. So much for sweet little Fatima. Your brain capitulates and you utter a meek “Yes.”
Fatima starts by explaining to the gathered students the steps of the exam. “First, the breasts will be visually inspected and manually palpated. Then, …”
Your mind wanders while she talks. The humiliation is almost too much to bear. She stops talking to her students and spins to face you. Unceremoniously she reaches over your shoulders and unties the gown from behind your neck. As she pulls the gown down to your waist, the cold air hits your exposed breasts, causing your nipples to tighten immediately. Your eyes dart to each of the students. Their wide eyes make it clear that they are inexperienced, ogling your breasts as they hang in display. You are suddenly self-conscious of your belly rolls now visible, so you sit up straight to try to diminish them. Of course, that just makes your tits stand further from your body, giving more of an eyeful to the students. A flat-chested girl to your left instinctually pulls her clipboard close to her body, envious at what she sees.
The doctor lifts your left breast like it’s an item she’s found in a produce aisle. As she starts to rotate and paw at it, she explains every step to her students. “…you will notice her areolas are fairly large, but proportional to…”. The doctor’s detachment is unnerving. Don’t they have classes where they teach proper bedside manner??
She moves to the right breast and repeats the same procedure. She then begins to palpate the breast. A few seconds later she pauses her speech, and starts feeling something intently. She releases the breast and quickly moves to its mate for a comparison feel.
“Ah – GOOD! We have something interesting and useful to investigate. You. Come here and describe what you feel.”
She points to a tall, lanky boy whose acne reveals that his journey through adolescence isn’t quite finished. He hesitates and is quickly admonished by Fatima. Slowly he approaches you and tentatively raises a hand. Dr. F grabs his hand and places it on your breast. His hand is ice cold. “Now, feel that? Squeeze your fingers until you feel it and describe to us what you feel.”
The boy works your tit like with all the grace of a water buffalo. Eventually he announces that he feels a lump. You are quickly alarmed but Fatima interjects “Describe the lump.” The boy again weighs your bosom in his hands and jabs his thin fingers around a certain spot. “It’s squishy.” he finally proclaims. “EXACTLY!” Fatima answers. She goes on to explain that it’s just a lipoma, or, a fat deposit, and that a worrisome lump would be hard to the touch. The ignominy is hurtful. Fat lumps in my tit. Great.
To your dismay she tells a few other students to come feel what she’s talking about. The next couple of minutes involves 6 or 7 hands all feeling you up. But you suddenly have a new problem. Your body isn’t getting the message from your brain that this experience is 100% embarrassing. No – your body is feeling a lot of strangers touching you and has responded by increasing the lubrication between your legs. Fuck. You are involuntarily getting wet. Isn’t that just great.
The breast exam ended, Dr F. allows you to tie up your gown. Small victories aside, you know what’s next. She swings the stirrups out from the bottom of the table and locks them into place. She tells you to lie back and scoot your butt to the edge of the table. It’s been a while, but the instructions are familiar to you. But as you are doing that, Fatima is fooling with the cart that she pulled out of the closet earlier. You feel your heart drop to your stomach when you realize the cart contains a camera and computer.
Fatima starts the equipment and turns on the incredibly bright spotlight attached to the examination table. She uses a remote to turn on a large flat-screen TV mounted directly in front of you. You shrink inside as you realize your pussy is about to be broadcast to a 50-inch monitor hanging on the wall for all to see.
“Ok. Ready?”, she asks. Without waiting for a reply she guides your legs into the stirrups and lifts your gown.
The monitor exposes your injustice. Your stubble-laden pussy is now being shown in HD to a bunch of people barely out of their teens. You swear you hear some snickering but tell yourself that it’s just your mind playing tricks on you.
Fatima adjusts the camera for the optimal angle and your vulva fills the screen. Your clitoral hood oversees the entire enterprise. Your lips haven’t yet parted but glisten a bit near your vagina. The wetness has increased and now everyone knows it.
Fatima gives a cursory tour of your lady parts. “… you’ll see her labia majora are well defined but the labia minora aren’t as prominent. There is quite a bit of variation in women, and you should…” All quite clinical.
Then you feel her small fingers spread your lips apart. Whereas you normally would just imagine what’s going on down there, the TV is giving you a front-seat to your probing. You find this to be a tiny bit arousing, but you do your damnedest to put it out of your head so that you won’t turn on the waterworks between your legs.
She takes both hands and cups them on the sides of your hips and asks you to slide just a bit closer to the table’s edge. You comply and note the feeling. Your knees bend just a bit more, your pelvis rotates a couple degrees higher, and you can now feel (and see!) that your asshole is opening just a bit due to your cheeks being further apart.
Fatima finishes her speech and places her right index finger inside you. She pulls your vagina downwards just a bit and eases her middle finger to the first knuckle. Deftly she spreads her fingers and your vagina follows suit. You see her black gloves now have a glossy sheen, your juices dutifully providing lubrication.
With her free hand she points at various sights in which her students should note. One student raises her hand and asks about the hymen. You definitely hear titters coming from the students this time, but Dr F quickly and viciously shuts that down. As she raises her voice at the students and dresses them down about decorum, you feel her fingers inadvertently move in and out of you slightly, following the movements of her body. Not a bad feeling at all, but inappropriate, for sure.
With the crowd quieted, Dr F explains how a hymen isn’t some mythical covering of the vagina. It doesn’t matter – now everyone is looking at your hole and making assumptions about your virginity.
Fatima continues her description of your body as she slides her fingers all the way inside you, reaching your cervix. With her two fingers deep inside you, her thumb faces up and rests on your pubic bone for leverage. Ever so slightly, the edge of her thumb grazes your clit and you feel tingles radiating down the sides of your pussy.
She withdraws her fingers from inside and a string of grool extends for at least 3 inches before it breaks and snaps back against your asshole. Fatima grabs a wet wipe and surgically dabs your anus until the grool is gone.
You drop your eyes from the monitor to see the doctor pick up the speculum. She holds it up to the students and demonstrates the screw mechanism that allows it to widen. This is the first time most of the boys have seen this implement and they are transfixed. She squirts some lubricant from a tube and smears it on the device.
You always hate this feeling. Some doctors warm the speculum but not Dr F. You feel the cold surgical steel invade you. She pushes gently and rotates a bit to make sure it’s seated properly. She starts to thumb the knob and the screw begins to put pressure on your canal. Further and further she goes until the TV screen shows your gape to everyone.
Fatima adjusts the light lower so your hole is now an illuminated pink tunnel. At the end of the tunnel is your cervix. “… a thumb-like structure with a hole at the end, the cervix is…” Fatima is on a roll.
“Ok before we do the pap smear, I’d like each of you to have a look.” One by one you watch as each student sits between your legs, looking where no man (or woman) has been for the better part of a year. A couple of bold souls actually don gloves and touch your lips, pull back your hood to expose the clit, and one mousy girl even reaches through the speculum to touch your cervix. You get embarrassed knowing that it turns you on seeing her small hand reaching deep inside you.
After all the students have their turn with you, Dr F finishes the procedure and removes the speculum. There is no way to describe the unique feeling of your vaginal walls collapsing after being stretched for that long of a period. Your pussy lips slowly come together until they are joined again, a weak, defensive position against any further intrusions.
After a final Q&A session, Fatima dismisses the students. She then tells you everything looked good and that you should get the pap results soon. At no time does she acknowledge what just occurred. Apparently, a gang of humanity crowded between your legs is an everyday thing for her. But for you, it is unforgettable.
submitted by /u/DirtySteinbeck
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