I’ve
written up a few accounts of visits to my MD over the years, some of them for
regular check-ups, and some for more special examinations, but this year it is
at the request of Master Mark, not as an authorship task per se, but because he
considers this visit to be important. To set the scene, when I was 12 years
old, our family doctor told me I was going to be enrolled in a Physical
Development Research Project that monitored several growth characteristics in
thousands of girls across the country. I wasn’t given an explicit choice, just
told that it was all arranged, and Mom was handed a set of papers that she was
ordered to sign on the last page, but not allowed to read the details of. While
this might sound unprofessional, Dr Forrest had looked after both of us since
we moved to Florida, and knew all the most intimate details of our lifestyle,
especially how submissive both Mom and myself are. We have built a deep trust
in her ability to arrange matters to suit those submissive traits, yet still
protect us from any harmful situation that may arise, so Mom would happily sign
anything she gave her, while I was thrilled at the prospects my young
imagination immediately cooked up.
In
essence it was just an annual check-up used to record my current physical
attributes and condition. Personal experiences over the previous year are
recorded, and every 3 years a much more intensive examination is undertaken. The
project is a very respectable national initiative, overseen by some extremely prestigious
universities and medical organisations, although Dr Forrest’s practice does
have a rather unusual notion on data collection methods. We realised quite
early on that this wasn’t a standard, everyday medical practice, but most of
the unusual aspects were quite well aligned with our own views on acceptable
behaviour, so we happily continued using their services without any complaint.
A week
or so after my 25th birthday the receptionist from the MD's office phoned
my cell to make an appointment for my check-up, and we arranged it to correspond
with the end of the next period I would have, which would be four weeks later
since I’d only just finished a few days before she called. She ordered me to
ask Master Mark for permission to stop shaving my pussy immediately, in
preparation for my exam, then asked if I was smooth at the moment, my normal
condition, but I informed her that I been permitted to style my pubic bush for
the last three months. Part of the medical study I was on recorded the growth
patterns in a girl’s pubic hair, which meant I would now have to grow it out completely
so that it could all be measured and photographed, then the doctor would shave me
bald herself during my next examination. She liked to tell me it was one of her
favourite jobs, and she liked her girls to look especially soft and young while
she had them on the table. I was a little disappointed, as I quite liked the
heart shape I’d trimmed my pubis into, and I’d grown accustomed to being
allowed to wear my badge of womanhood and being treated as an adult by my
Master, though it still thrilled me that I would soon be forced to be a little
girl once more, with a bald quim.
A few
days after the call a courier delivered some medication to my home, on the
instructions of my doctor. The enclosed note said they were a low dosage
hormone tablet containing both Progesterone and Estrogen to suppress bodily
changes during my period from returning to the normal state. The main target
was my breasts, and the low
dose tablets, taken once a day for seven days, then twice daily for another seven
days, caused the breasts to swell as the milk glands enlarge further. I
remembered what this did at my last milestone assessment as part of a lactation
test that had me producing milk during Dr Forrest’s exam and for two weeks
after because she had me using a breast pump every day.
This
regimen lasted 22 days in all, the final section comprising one tablet on
alternate days, maintaining my breasts at full expansion, painfully tight, and
my nipples permanently erect, so that they poked through my bra and my blouse,
even at work. I got quite a bit of ribbing about having sneaked off for a boob
job, but I just told the truth, that it was the after effects of my last period
having not settled down yet, and I’d already made an appointment for my MD to
have it checked out. The senior partner at the office, Mr Charles, was of
course given the full story of what was happening, since he is fully aware of
all the details of my lifestyle, and a local sponsor for the research project
Dr Forrest has me on. He even asked that a copy of the results be sent to him,
which I arranged during my visit.
On the
morning of my doctor’s appointment there was also a second set of tablets which
were to be started, this being the fifth day of my period, so I was only
spotting by then. Day 5 of the cycle requires an increase in the
Prolactin levels to stimulate full milk production, and this was accomplished
with the medication that I took as soon as I woke up, to get a much greater
effect by the time my appointment came round. I could feel them working by the
time I got in the shower, the firm globes of my titties tingling deep inside,
and a sense of pressure behind my aureoles producing the start of a pair of
puffies I’d not had since my early teens. I spent a few minutes playing the hot
water over them, loving the tingle it set off in my nipples, almost working
myself up to a desperately needed orgasm, but holding back before completion
since the receptionist had instructed me that I was not allowed to climax. Dr
Forrest would take up the matter of sexual release with me during the exam, and
Master Mark had confirmed I was to abstain when I informed him of my upcoming
review.
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