A Growing Girl

A Growing Girl

Doctor's Visit 25 - 6 - Dilation Test

Doctor's Visit 25 - 6 - Dilation Test

“Shall we continue with the next examination Katie,” Dr Forrest asked, “the dilation test, so we can see how far we can open up all your delicious little holes without tearing them? I’m afraid this one is going to be really uncomfortable for you, because we are about five years behind schedule since you wanted to keep hold of your cherry so long. You’ll have noticed that the milestone exam is a year later this time, on your twenty fifth birthday instead of your twenty fourth, and they will move to every five years from now, instead of every three years. This is because your rate of development slows down as you get older, so I want to catch up on what we’ve missed so far, and get all of your holes expanded to where a twenty five year old woman of your build should be by now.”

“Because I’m going to be stretching your limits, as well as your cute little pussy, I’ll let you use your safe word to take one or two short breaks, but not too many or we’ll never get this finished today. Now, can you confirm today’s safe word for me?”

“Yes Miss, the safe word is ‘Sufficient’.” I answered quietly, “But I promise not to use it unless I really, really have to. I’m going to be a brave girl for you, Miss.”

Dr Forrest stroked my cheek, “That’s splendid Cupcake,” she encouraged, “you’re such a wonderful girl, and you always make me enormously pleased with you. Now, let’s get you properly opened up this time shall we, and if you are really well behaved, I’ve got a pleasant surprise for you.”

I hopped up onto the Ob/Gyn chair instead of the exam table this time, because I knew from experience that Dr Forrest likes to get me nicely spread out when she stretches my pussy with all her shiny steel tools and equipment. Half a dozen sets of Velcro straps later and I’d been firmly secured to the chair, with hardly any movement possible at all, other than my fingers and toes. Even my head was secured with a strap across my forehead, and I knew I was going to have my cock swallowing abilities tested.

Nurse Sandra picked up a spreader from the trolley, handed it to the doctor, who held it in place while the nurse clamped each of my outer pussy lips to it, then Dr Forrest squeezed the handles to push my fat petals wide apart, each click of the ratchet forcing my slit wider open. I love my slit being opened like that, the cool breeze blowing across my girlcleft, and just the right amount of pressure to make it hurt a little. I could even feel my entrance start to flower open as the doctor picked up her ‘little girl opener’, a beautiful shiny steel speculum, rather small in size, that she had used many times before to open me up during my previous exams. The small metal legs would open up my tough little hymen just enough so she could reach inside my cunny to poke and prod to her heart’s content, but today she placed the tip of the instrument into my pussy and let go.

The medical tool dropped straight down, like falling into a well, not even touching the sides, till the flared end wedged into my hole, and the handle slapped painfully onto my erect clit. Doctor Forrest said that was no good, and she was sorry that she couldn’t use it on my little girl hole any more, but then smiled broadly as she removed the small speculum, and swapped it for a much bigger model, which she called her ‘grown up cunt buster’. This one, she said, had split quite a few High School seniors wide open, and they’d gone home with much more slit than they’d arrived with.

I doubted if that was actually true, but I loved the tales of terror Doctor Forrest told me, just to put me on edge, having listened to them since I was in Kindergarten, and always managed surviving my treatments in one piece. I think she did it so she could compliment me on being such a brave girl, and give me a hug afterward.

This Lady’s speculum was a stainless steel device, with three long legs, and a pair of ratchet handles to force them open, which the doctor did to show me how wide they could go, and it was absolutely huge, about the size of a big grapefruit. She closed them down again, but not all the way, probably about two inches wide, before greasing the legs with jelly, then forcing the tips into my pussy, which Nurse Sandra stretched wide with her fingers. It hurt a bit first off, and it was really strange being stretched right at the start, instead of putting the speculum in closed, and then opening it up. When the doctor had got a couple of inches inside me, she leaned on the open end hard, to push another couple of inches straight in, stretching my walls to accommodate it, with the edges of the blades feeling as if they were slicing into my flesh.

The handles were at the bottom, as they usually were when the doctor inserted a speculum, which would normally make the legs line up vertically, along my slit, but with them being open already, one leg was at the top, against my clit, and the other two were at the bottom, stretching the end of my hole wide apart. Taking hold of the handles, Dr Forrest rotated them to the top, causing the triangle of legs to ream my pussy like an apple corer, till the top was forced apart, and the bottom of my slit stretched downwards. Another straight push made me gasp till I had six inches of steel inside me, and I could feel it bottom out, but the nurse made a point that there were still four more inches to go, so maybe they’d have to screw those back and forth to get it all into me. They took it in turns to twist and push those hard blades deeper and deeper inside me, tipping the ends up and down as they forced my womb right up into my tummy, but they managed to get all ten inches in at last.

Dr Forrest squeezed the handles, and the blades spread out, click, click, click, click, taking my aching pussy walls with them, four clicks straight off, and I’d already started from two inches. She was right about wanting to catch up, but I’d never been opened up so fast before, yet even though it was painful, the fantasy of a cruel doctor trying to rip my cunny in half had me thrusting my hips in helpless pleasure. The doctor checked inside my gaping hole with a flashlight and a rounded metal probe, stroking the sidewalls and around the muscle ring of my cervix, then angled it forward to rub my g-spot, laughing every time I jerked at the touch. Turning the probe over, Dr Forrest showed me where the other end was much sharper, though not enough to break the skin, she said, just increase the sensations to a much higher level.

When she pressed the sharp probe into my inner pussy wall it felt like a needle entering my flesh, but without the damage, and when she drew it along the lining from its full depth to almost my cunny entrance, she asked if it felt like she was splitting my pussy open, and it did. I loved playing fantasy games like this, even though I have a dread of needles and knives, but Dr Forrest knows just how to work with my desires, working the probe around the neck of my cervix, describing just how she could separate my vagina from my womb and remove it all for medical science. Moving to the front wall inside my pussy, she worked round the edge of my G-spot, asking if I could cope without this central pleasure spot, and perhaps it would stop me having such a wet pussy. Even as I begged not to be cut open, her touch inside made me climax as she smiled and suggested it would be too much of a loss.

Having played with me for a while, the doctor reminded me there was work to be done, that at the moment was a smear test, something I, and most women, hate having done, but have to put up with if we want to prevent later health problems. Nurse Sandra told me they would be using a different swab than normal for my test, showing me one, a white brush device with a set of soft plastic bristles like an arrow head, all mounted on a long blue plastic handle. I told her there was no way she could get that through my cervix, but she smiled and explained that it was only the middle bristles that went a short way inside, and the wider ones brushed the top edge of my cervix, collecting samples from both areas at once. She guided it into place, and the touch was very gentle when it came in contact, then she rotated it five times, which was a really weird sensation, though no way near as painful as the smear tests I’d had before.

After the sample was bagged and taken to reception for delivery to the lab, Dr Forrest held up the set of ten steel sounds that she explained were going to be used on me today, to widen both my cervix and my urethra, and if I was a good little girl she would put each one in very slowly, then let me rest between them. This was part of setting up a scene between us, partly to let me play at being a preteen again, but also to permit Dr Forrest to satisfy her love of her younger patients without the added difficulty of parental consent, and legal difficulties. It’s something we both enjoy, so matched us up rather well as I assumed my little girl persona.

Nurse Sandra set up a stand mirror between my legs so that I could see most of what they were going to do with my poor, helpless cunny, all stretched out for their enjoyment, and mine as well, although I’d probably have a more difficult time of it. The first sound which Dr Forrest brought over was 4mm dia, with a nice rounded end, and the doctor rested it against my cervix, giving me a chance to see where it was before she pressed it through the muscle with only token resistance, and no more pain than when Master Mark takes me without any foreplay. When it had entered, Dr Forrest didn’t stop, but kept on pushing more of the steel rod into my womb, almost up to the line marked on the shaft, somewhere about 4 inches I’d guessed. She explained that the shaft tapered wider here by another 2mm so that my cervix would be stretched a little bit more, and as she pushed it deeper, she also twisted it round, as if it were being screwed into me. When it reached the second mark, that was 6mm diameter, the doctor said, and pushed another two inches inside my womb to where I could just feel it touching the far wall of my uterus, a really weird feeling that I’d never had, because in my whole life, nothing had ever gone in there.

Dr Forrest now rotated the end of the sound, within the confines of the speculum, as if she were stirring a pudding, which dragged my cervix round and round to a lesser degree, an even stranger sensation than being penetrated that bordered on painful when it was pulled notably far out of line. Since my cervix was reasonably fixed in place, the other end of the metal rod, where it pressed against the inside of my womb, now described the same shape as the end in the speculum. I told Dr Forrest that it felt like a worm crawling about in my tummy, and into my mind popped an anime image I captioned a while ago of a young girl with slugs put into her womb by a doctor, and with each movement of the rod I grew closer to an orgasm. Nurse Sandra pointed out my arousal, and the doctor withdrew the sound while my passion receded, then inserted it to its full length, the narrow section followed by the wider one, stretching the neck of my cervix, then pressing my uterine wall at the end of its travel.

Ten times the sound was inserted and removed, each insertion going a little deeper, pressing harder into my womb, and lifting it up into my tummy with increasing pain before it was at last removed altogether. Dr Forrest wiped the sound with alcohol then inserted the tip into my pee hole with some lubricant gel, Nurse Sandra gripped my erect clitoris and pulled it upward to give better access, while the doctor slid the metal shaft slowly in. She just kept feeding the sound deeper and deeper, not stopping to let me adjust, as I do at home, but stretching out my urethra along its entire length, from pussy to bladder. When it forced open the tight sphincter of my bladder, the nurse rolled my clit between her fingers to balance the pain in my tummy, and the doctor just kept pushing more and more of the steel into me, impaling my bladder till it struck the back wall and pushed it into my tummy.

Instead of pulling the sound all the way out, as she had done with my cervix, Dr Forrest only pulled it back two inches, then pushed it in and out about once every second, asking me if I’d been fucked in my pee hole before. When I said I hadn’t, but I’d seen it in an anime comic, she suggested that when she’d forced all of the sounds up my pee hole, even the big 30mm one, it might be a nice idea to get some pencil dicked nerd to give it a try. She knows just the right things to push my erotic buttons, and the image that conjured up set my pussy on fire as she finally left the sound embedded inside me, and clamped it to the speculum so I wouldn’t push it out as my pussy convulsed.

Dr Forrest gave the speculum handles another click, tightening the pressure on my enlarged cunny, then worked the 6mm sound into my cervix, in exactly the same way she had done with the smaller one. When I’d been stretched to her satisfaction, the doctor clamped that sound to the speculum as she had my pee hole one, leaving them both to settle in to their larger sizes, then showed me a pink dildo about the size of my medium one I have at home.

Standing the dildo up in my stretched pussy, where it didn’t touch the sides, Dr Forrest spread some lube on my bottom, working her finger right inside, then two fingers, followed by three fingers, which was stretching me nicely. Nurse Sandra helped her by slipping a finger in one side of my anus, while Dr Forrest hooked a finger in the other side, and then they both pulled sideways, right up to my limit, where I was gasping, but still not calling a halt. The two of them alternated pulling vertically and horizontally, till I was prepared enough, they said, and then the head of the dildo was pushed through my sphincter with very little trouble.

Instead of pushing it inside my bum as they usually did, Dr Forrest left it just inside, with the nurse holding it in place so it didn’t fall out, while she explained that due to having a lot more stretching to do than usual, even though my bottom was quite well developed, she’d decided to be more aggressive with it. She took a cloth cover off one of the instrument trays, and then produced a 1lb rubber mallet, the sort I’d bought from the hardware store on Blake Boulevard on the other side of the Greenway. In order to save time, she said, they were going to whack the dildo into my ass in two or three goes, rather than push it in slowly. This was one of the games Mom and I sometimes played, based on some porn images by Preston, and Dr Forrest probably had it all down in my notes from some of the discussions we’d had about my sexual activity.

She took a couple of practice swings against my thigh, much harder than Mom would of used on me, then pulled her arm right back and swung at the dildo sticking out of my ass, hitting it dead centre, and ramming the plastic shaft several inches inside. I could feel it drag my anal ring in with it, and the nurse pushed a few more inches in as well, to keep up the momentum of the initial swing. The impact wasn’t nearly as bad as it had looked from the set up, but the impression it gave was awesome, and I let out a suitable grunt of shock, pleading for mercy.

“Oh please Miss,” I said in my best little girl voice, “no more. You’ve ripped my little bottom wide open. Please don’t hit that nasty dildo again; you’ll tear me in half next time. I promise to be a good girl, honest I do, just don’t hammer it in any further. Please.”

Dr Forrest looked suitably pleased with my response as she smiled warmly at me, but shaking her head, she just replied, “I’m sorry Munchkin, but this big dildo has to go all the way up that tight little bottom, and I’m in a hurry, so you be a brave little girl, while I hammer it in as quick as I can.”

With that, she swung the rubber mallet twice more, each blow less severe than it appeared, but still providing a sharp inward thrust to the long plastic shaft, driving it in several inches every time. The nurse manoeuvred it carefully to avoid any damage, but it still stretched and filled me much faster than I would have liked, although in a way I did like it, because I was so helpless to resist what the doctor was doing to me. When the dildo had been driven all the way inside me, the nurse fitted a pad to the bottom of the chair, which rested against the end of the shaft to stop it coming out.

Now that my bottom, pussy, cervix and urethra were all stretched, Dr Forrest said there was just one more hole to open up while the others got used to their new sizes, and she took a big dental clamp from the nurse, and fitted it into my mouth. My dentist has used a similar device on me when I complain that I can’t keep my jaw open while he works on me, and he seemed quite keen to use it when I told him my girlfriend had one when she had her teeth worked on. I was in the last year of junior high, 15 years old, with budding breasts, and a habit of letting my legs fall open when I was in the dentist chair, which I knew showed off my panties, and a couple of times when I forgot to put any on, my bare cunny was on display while I was tipped back in the chair. One time I kept grabbing his arm, so he had the hygienist put some Velcro straps round my wrists to keep me still, which really had my heart racing, especially when her arm pushed my skirt hem all the way up.

I felt just the same now, with the nurse pressing the levers at each side, cranking my jaw wide open till I felt the hinge under my cheek bone begin to strain as if it would dislocate, but she put her fingers right inside my mouth, felt around and said I was OK. She swung a mirror to the side of me so that I could see how far my mouth was stretched, and the shiny steelwork inside it, looking for all the world like the Jersey tunnel.

“Right Katie, since I know you’re quite good at oral sex,” Dr Forrest announced, “we need to document your current capacity, both width and length this time, and we’ll start you off with your favourite.” Nurse Sandra passed her a realistic pink dildo, complete with veins, a large tapered helmet, and a darling retractable foreskin that Dr Forrest rolled back for me to see. It was the same size as mine at home, but much more detailed. “Now just relax my sweetheart, and breathe through your nose while I slip this inside.” As she eased the plastic cock into my mouth I played with it a while, running my tongue over the head, and the foreskin, just like my Master Mark, then she pushed the shaft further into my mouth. Dr Forrest removed the dildo while Nurse Sandra moved the headrest back, lifting my chin to straighten my throat, and my clit started pulsing at what I knew was next.

“Now then little lady, shall we find out if you can be a good girl and swallow Auntie Bev’s nice cock, like a helpful girl should.” It was wonderful when Dr Forrest played auntie instead of doctor, so I submissively relaxed my throat as she pushed the dildo in deeper and deeper, over my tongue, past my tonsils, and ever so slowly into my throat. “Oh my sweetheart,” she praised me, “that’s magnificent, now just relax and breathe. I’m so delighted with my little niece taking such a big cock down your throat.”

I was overjoyed that Dr Forrest was pleased with my achievement, it was something that I practiced quite often at home with my own dildo, especially since I’d given myself to Master Mark, and I loved to demonstrate my skills for him by sucking his cock as deep as I can take it. And for Grandad, and Uncle Robert, and Mom as well when she wears her strap-on.

Nurse Sandra made sure I didn’t choke on the dildo, which was to be left in for as long as possible, while I breathed through my nose and she tormented my erect nipples, twisting and pinching them. Dr Forrest was busy increasing the size of the sounds, by removing the one in my urethra, and replacing it with the larger one she pulled out of my cervix, then pushing the 10mm sound into my cervix to stretch it even further. She added a few clicks to my vaginal speculum widening my pussy, and then she worked the lower dildo in and out of my bottom, while the nurse fucked my throat with the other dildo, double ending me. After a few minutes the doctor suggested to Nurse Sandra that they swap, but instead of exchanging places, they both pulled their dildoes completely out and handed them to each other.

Ass to mouth is not something I enjoy directly, I find the taste disgusting, and I’ve always been brought up to consider it something that nice people don’t do because it’s dirty, and I’ve had my bottom spanked when I was a girl for not cleaning myself properly. Nurse Sandra held the dildo that had been up my ass right over my face while she examined it, turning it so I could see the brown streaks along the shaft, then slipping it into my mouth, hardly touching the edges due to the dental spreader. Gradually she slid it all the way down my throat, while the tapered end rubbed against the damp walls on its way in, then she rotated it to wipe all the filth from it, onto the side of my throat, and across my tongue. She carefully worked the shaft in and out, twirling it round and round to ensure my whole mouth was coated in my own shit.

Nurse Sandra removed the dildo from my mouth, tilting my head back up so that I could see Dr Forrest unclamp the sound in my pee hole, then slowly pull its length out of me, only to have it replaced with a catheter of the same size, which she stopped just short of it entering my bladder. While she held it in place, the doctor passed the open end to the nurse, who put it into my gaping mouth, then smiled as the doctor pushed the tube through the sphincter and in my bladder, allowing my pee to flow through the clear tube up to my mouth, where I was instructed to swallow. Nurse Sandra directed the flow all over my tongue, along the sides of my mouth, and round my teeth, making sure it went everywhere until the flow stopped when my bladder was completely drained.

Removing the catheter, Dr Forrest unclamped the cervical sound from the speculum, leaving the sound in place while she slackened the speculum a little bit, and then yanked it out while it was still half expanded. She took hold of the steel sound, working it in and out of my cervix a few times, then, pulling the shaft out quickly, gave it a quick wash in alcohol, fitted it into my pee hole, then rammed it in all in one go, stretching my tube all the way till it penetrated fully into my bladder. Picking up the 14mm sound, Dr Forrest said they would skip the 12, as they were in a rush, then inserted that one just as quickly as the one she’d forced into my poor pee hole, with an accompanying squeak from me. Taking hold of both long metal sounds as they protruded from my pussy, the doctor started moving them in every direction, dragging my insides with them, pressing them hard into my flesh, pulling them out and driving them back in again, until I was thoroughly stirred up.

“Oh Katie, that was magnificent,” Dr Forrest praised me, “you did especially well to suffer that for me. It’s not a painless sequence, but some of the girls cause such a commotion you’d think we were ripping their insides out. You, on the other hand, are a true gem, my very own compliant little girl, accepting anything I do to you without objection or fuss.”

I muttered a response, but it was garbled by the dental gag, which the nurse quickly removed, so I replied, “I try my hardest to be courageous for you, doctor, and to make you happy.”

“I love working with you pumpkin, every time you come and visit us you make me proud that you’re one of my patients. Unfortunately the sound you’ve got in your bladder at the moment is nowhere near big enough, and that little cervix can stretch so much further than it has been yet. I’ve got four more to force into your tiny holes, the next one is easy, but those three after that will be a big jump each time.” Dr Forrest saw the anxiety etched on my face, and told me, “Not to worry my petal, I promise I won’t split anything down there, not too far anyway, and I’m confident that you can handle a lot more pain than you give yourself credit for. Now then, let’s get started before we’re late for lunch, and after you’re stuffed with our largest and longest dildoes we can give you something to eat.”

She pulled the sound from my aching bladder, then quickly replaced it with the one she next dragged with a flourish out of my cervix, almost turning it inside out, but making me squeak when the 14mm shaft slid all the way down my pee hole. She was right about the next for my cervix being easy, at 16mm diameter it went in a treat, but the flared top was 20mm, another 4mm fatter, and the nurse kept pinching my clitoris to make me hump the sound like a dog in heat. She opened the speculum a couple of clicks to stretch my pussy, then pulled the dildo from my bottom and slid it in my mouth, making me tip my head back to allow it to go down my throat, with even more shit on it this time. The dildo she was going to put up my ass now was seriously big, not just fat, but long as well, nearly eighteen inches, but she managed to force it all the way inside me, with the nurse encouraging me by spanking my bottom with a tawse, then a couple to each breast as well. It’s surprising what a little bit of wriggling will get accomplished.

The 20 and 25 mm sounds were really difficult, even with loads of lube, plenty of pulling and pushing, and some creative twirling around, but they both went in, and both holes as well, as amazing as that seemed, and the dildo wedged right up my bum was a huge four inches. Finally it was time for the last round, much to my relief, and the 30mm steel sound forced in my already sore womb was like being torn open, but Nurse Sandra and Dr Forrest played with my breasts and clitoris so that I was cumming most of the time my pussy was getting speared like a fish. That enormous metal shaft was left in place while the nurse fucked my bottom with the large dildo, and Dr Forrest made me take two foot of silicone dildo right in mouth, down my throat, and into my stomach. While I held that one in place, the doctor fitted a large syringe to the end of it, filled with a thick white fluid that she said was horse semen from a local stable, then pumped it straight into my tummy. I climaxed like a wild woman at the thought of being filled with horse cum, even though I thought it was probably fake, until Dr Forrest showed me a bottle labelled “Real Horse Sperm – certified by the Stable Club”.

After all the dildoes and sounds were removed, I was released from the chair, all the Velcro straps undone, and the nurse steadied me while the feeling came back into my legs as I stood up and stretched. Because it was lunchtime, Dr Forrest left me with Nurse Sandra, who took me to get a drink from the water cooler on the other side of reception, but I wasn’t allowed to dress, and had to walk naked past everyone in the waiting room. With both my arms clasped behind me, I drank from the cup she held to my lips, then was marched to the restroom to pee while the door was held fully open so everyone could watch me squat with my knees wide apart, and my pussy still gaping.

Nurse Sandra guided me back to the examination room, where I sat on a tall metal stool with two dildoes attached, and we both enjoyed a sandwich and coffee that the receptionist kindly brought in for us, discussing how well I’d behaved during my dilation test. After we’d both finished eating, the nurse brought over the breast pump again because my nipples had begun leaking, and she said I would need to be emptied in order to keep my lactation active. She had the suction quite low, which was much more pleasant, as my breasts were expressed far more gently. When I was down to a trickle, the nurse detached the pump, poured the milk into one of the bottles they have, and left it on the side, while she cleaned the tubes.

Doctor's Visit 25 - 5 - Extension Test

Doctor's Visit 25 - 5 - Extension Test

When I returned the cups, the receptionist complimented me on my outfit, saying how much nicer I looked with small titties and a cute crop top than those big torpedo tits, and she lifted the lace edge onto my upper chest to display my bound puffies. After stoking the little bumps for a while, she asked me to bring her a drink from the water fountain, which was on the far side of the waiting area, meaning I had to walk past everyone in the room with my budding titties on show, since I’d not been given permission to pull my crop top back down. Several people showed a definite interest in my display, one boy of about thirteen years old turning to ask the lady he was with why my boobs were so small, so I stopped and knelt to explain, the steel bar between my pussy lips scratching as my hips rotated.

“The doctor wrapped them up to make them smaller,” I told the boy, “as part of one of the tests she’s doing on me, and they’re really squashed under here.” I pointed to the bandages wrapped round my chest, “My real boobs have been all squished down till just these little buds are left sticking out, and I have to stay like this till the doctor lets me out.” He said they looked “real cute”, just like the ones his sister Jenny had, adding that she was in with Doctor James getting seen to. The lady, his Mom, hushed him, apologising to me for his boldness, but I assured her it was alright, ruffling his hair as I told her it was lovely to be complimented by a young man.

I continued with the task in hand, bringing the receptionist her requested drink, and then had to tidy the magazines on the two waiting room tables, which put me in close proximity to the people sitting there, providing a very detailed view of my breast buds, and my bottom, which received a few pats from the men behind me as I bent over the tables. When my little tasks for the receptionist were complete, I was allowed to go back into the exam room to continue my tests.

“Hello Katie,” greeted the doctor as I returned, “thank you for helping out over there, you’ve done a very good job for us, how are you feeling?”

“I’m alright, doctor, thank you,” I quietly replied, lowering my eyes, “a little bit restricted in some places, but I’m sure I can manage it.” I added quickly. “It’s more challenging than it usually is, and the bar in my cunny is hurting a lot now, but I’m trying to be a brave girl.”

As Dr Forrest took some photos of my tiny bound breasts and wasp waist for the file, she praised my efforts to be co-operative, “You’ve done well in your tests so far, little pumpkin, and I’m really pleased with how focused you’ve been today.” She leaned over and kissed my forehead gently, then bent further to wrap her mouth around my breast bud, lapping it with her tongue, sucking it deeper, and then sawing her teeth across the swollen puffie.

 “I’m sorry to say, that the next round of assessments will be much more stressful for you. It’s essential to evaluate the pliability of your sexual areas using stretching investigations, and at this stage of your progress in the research study we will be far more forceful with your body. Ever since you were twelve years old, and I enrolled you on this development study Katie, you’ve been my foremost participant, and have given us some wonderful results, especially in the sub-groups you’ve been part of. Out of the thousands of other girls across the country, you have been the longest running virgin through personal choice, but it has meant that some of the usual monitoring stages have been by-passed in order to preserve your virginity. Since you recently decided to surrender your cherry to your Master Mark, we now have access to a relatively unused pussy in a mature subject, and lots of ground to catch up on.”

Dr Forrest and the nurse unfastened the crotch of my pale blue satin corset, carefully taking out the spiked bar from between my pussy lips, checking the damage, and declaring it to be merely superficial. The relief as they loosened the corset laces was wonderful, my breathing returned to normal, and I could feel my insides flow back to their regular position in my poor tummy. The bandages round my chest still squeezed my titties nearly flat, but the pressure was mild compared to the corset, and I loved the little breast buds it fashioned because they reminded me of when I entered my teens.

I submissively presented myself when instructed by Dr Forrest, feet apart, hands behind me, shoulders back, so that I thrust my tiny boobs forward, their pointy nipples stroked by Nurse Sandra’s thumbs as the doctor ran her fingers over my hairless pubic mound.  Tremors of pleasure rippled through my tummy at her touch, as she smiled sweetly at me and inquired, “How old do you feel right now poppet, with your tiny buds and soft little slit?”

These childish terms of endearment triggered me to age regress, as they always did, which she knew quite well from the early training I’d undergone during the first few years under her care, just after we moved to Florida. Every visit to the office would end up with me entirely naked, sometimes as soon as I walked through the door, since she’d found out very early how much I liked being undressed, and that I enjoyed pleasing people by doing as I was told. Often I’d go along with Mom when she saw Dr Forrest, and I loved being twinned with her, copying everything Mom did, and had done to her, even a pelvic exam. Although I was much too small to take the doctor’s fingers inside my pussy, she had a doll in a toy box whose hand could slip into me without too much difficulty. She would have me pose as I was now, with lots of encouragement when I positioned myself correctly, and the occasional slap across my bottom when I didn’t pay attention.

I could just see myself like that now, so I answered her in my quiet, little girl voice, “I’m just thirteen years old Miss.” The memories of that particular visit came easily back to mind.

 Smiling warmly, she ran her fingers over my cheek, and used my key phrase, “And is Katie going to be a good little teenager for me today?”

I stood up tall, my head raised, rather than lowered, in reply to the question, saying proudly to her, “Of course, Miss, I’ll do everything you tell me to, like an obedient little girl should.” This response signified my acknowledgment, as it had before, that she had across-the-board control over me during the rest of the time I was there.

While Nurse Sandra unfastened the bandages round my chest, freeing my flat breasts so they could be stretched into the long thin cones this test usually produced, Doctor Forrest showed me the new chest brace she was going to use on me this time. Instead of the usual dark wood support frame, this one was polished metal, with a diamond shaped lattice work base, the thin edges pressing against my chest as the nurse tightened the straps behind my back, whilst the doctor positioned it over each of my titties.  First, a shelf was attached to the frame, holding my breasts level, so they didn’t sag, and then Dr Forrest used a wooden ruler to measure the baseline extension from the metal frame to the end of each nipple logging the  results in my notes. There was a small change in length, due to my lactation Dr Forrest thought, with the left side more developed this time, which wasn’t my norm, but again it was attributed to a higher milk production in my left breast, and a more extensive milking by the pump on my right.

Since the milestone exam when I was 21, Dr Forrest had stopped performing my extension test manually, just stretching my nipples and lips with her fingers, and had moved me up to mechanical means, starting with spring clamps like my skirt hangers at home. The next year she’d tied rough twine round my nipples and used vice grips on my pussy lips, and for my 23^rd it was medical haemostats, those clamps that look like thin scissors. Each time I was stretched out that year, the doctor would squeeze them another notch tighter till my nipples were crushed flat, and she managed to fit a dozen clamps on my pussy, including my clitoris and hood, even getting one just inside my pee hole, which really hurt.

This year, because I was more mature, she said, she produced a small plastic tube, woven into diamond slits like one of those Chinese finger puzzles in Mulan and StarTrek, slipped it over my nipple, then pulled the open end, making it tighten down on the teat, and on the section of aureole it covered. Using a loop attached to the other end, the doctor lifted the whole weight of my breast upward as the tube gripped the end of my tit, while the nurse fitted a post and bar structure to the base plate, and the loop was hooked onto the end of a bar, keeping up the pressure. Another Chinese nipple puzzle was fastened to my left breast, and that too stretched to match its twin.

Dr Forrest checked that the extension was only minimal, fitted a pair of trigger mechanisms onto the bars, then she and the nurse began squeezing them in the same way you do on one of those adhesive guns with the tubes fitted in them, pulling the bars, instead of pushing them. After three squeezes each, the doctor checked how far my nipples had been pulled from my body, and then they repeated the squeeze as the nipple puzzles gripped my teats even harder lengthening them painfully. There were quite a few white stretch marks appearing round my aureoles, radiating along the cones of my deformed titties, and the chequered base was now digging into my pectoral muscles as the pressure transferred there.

With the steady pressure still applied to my breasts, Doctor Forrest turned her attention to my cunny, having me sit in an ob/gyn chair, with my knees up beside my shoulders, spreading the whole of my pussy open to her view. Sitting down on that little wheeled stool she has, the doctor scooted between my legs, peeling open my outer lips to get at the damp pink groove hidden beneath. Knowing how much I enjoyed being exposed and mauled about, she spent a few minutes just stretching my labia in different directions, then scrunching them up in her hands and twisting them savagely. I moaned with passion at each tug and squeeze, tensing the muscles in my legs, which earned me a slap on the inside of each thigh, and an admonition to sit still, followed by three hard swats on my pubic mound because my slit was dripping.

“Dirty.” SLAP. “Little.” SLAP. “Girl,” SLAP.

Dr Forrest took a small silver fish from the nurse, squeezing its tail to demonstrate that it was in fact a clamp, more decorative than the skirt hanger ones she’d used before, but this one had teeth lining its mouth, although the points had been filed off to reduce any damage. When she clipped it onto my inner labia it still had a painful bite, which took a few moments to settle, by this time the doctor had clipped a second fish on my other small lip, then one on my more substantial outer petal, and a matching fish on the opposite side. These clamps were towards the bottom of my slit, and another set of four were positioned further up, just below the level of my clitoris so that the full of area of my inner and outer labia could be stretched out. Nurse Sandra brought over a square plastic box with a couple of dozen shiny metal teardrop shaped weights, each with a hook at the top to attach to the clamps, but first Doctor Forrest wanted to fit bow springs to the clamps. These looked heavier than I remembered, definitely stronger than the ones I had at home, with a much more pronounced hook on the end of each leg that the doctor fitted to both the lower, outer clamps, folding it in half to hook it on, then slowly letting it spread open.

It wasn’t only the bow that spread, it took my fat petals with it, pulling open the bottom of my girl cleft so wide I could feel my vaginal entrance flower open as well, while the labia grew longer and thinner. The top bow was fitted to the outer clamps, folded in the same way, and it pulled open the rest of my slit when it was released, exposing the complete pink inner flesh of my pussy to the cool breeze of the air-conditioning. Two more bow springs were now put on my small petals to stretch them out as well, but they were made of lighter material, so didn’t pull me open with the severity the others would have done, though they still exerted a strong extension on these more delicate parts of my tender cunny.

“Sandra,” called Dr Forrest, “come over here and see what’s peeking out of our naughty girl, now that all those folds are peeled back out of the way. Isn’t that the cutest little love button in there, all pink and throbbing, still trying to hide under its hood?” Nurse Sandra suggested that my clitoral hood should be pulled back out of the way, like my sex lips had, then they’d be able to see the full length of my shaft. Dr Forrest brought a pair of horns from one of her cabinets, tapered and curved like a rhinoceros horn, pointed at one end, widening out over its two inch length to a half inch diameter. She inserted the small point through my vertical hood piercing from the underside, then fitted a half inch diameter jump ring through the small hole drilled through the end of the horn, stopping it from slipping back out. The second horn fitted into my navel piercing from the top, along with its jump ring, then a clasp was attached onto each ring, and finally six ordinary office rubber bands were looped together to join the two ends with a stretchy strap.

Gradually my clitoral hood was stretched upward, exposing the length of unattached shaft that Dr Forrest had been working to free for the past few years, and my piercing was slowly enlarged as the tapered horn was pulled further through the small hole. With my clitoris now fully revealed, the doctor compressed another Chinese puzzle, smaller than the ones on my nipples, pushed it along the shaft, right down to the base, and then gently pulled it outward to tighten the sleeve’s grip. A hook was slipped through the end of the puzzle, fastened to a thin elasticated strap, which in turn clipped onto the centre of the two bow clamps on my smaller labia, and a second strap from the hook to the bow clamps on my outer petals. With my clit now stretching out from my girl cleft, Dr Forrest had me close my thighs together, which put pressure on the bow clamps, closing my lower lips, but pushing the middle of the bow further out, and pulling harder on my clitoris. By placing one knee over the other, the bow clamps were twisted, pulling my lips in opposite directions, and dragging my stretched clitoris every which way, tightening the tube’s grip on my shaft.

Satisfied that I was now set up correctly, Dr Forrest ordered me to stand up, with my feet at shoulder width apart, and attached a long tubular weight to each of the clamps on my labia, each one much heavier than I usually wore during this test, and really extending my petals. With four of them dangling between my legs, I had to walk towards the mirror, as each step set the weights in motion, stressing different areas of my intimate flesh as they swung about, but also creating a musical note each time they struck together, making me sound like a wind chime in the garden. When I stood in front of the doctor again she tightened up the pull bars on my breasts, pulling my nipples further out, indicating to Nurse Sandra the stress lines that were beginning to form in the skin of my titties. A few more squeezes to stretch the teats out some more, and the white lines were clearly visible, though not the ache as my skin felt like it was going to be ripped apart.

The level of extension in my breasts and pussy was measured again, recorded in my notes, and I was instructed to walk over to the mirror, turn, and come back, then repeat this three more times so that the swinging weights would stretch my labia more effectively. After the second promenade the tether in my clit hood was tightened, stretching the piece of skin even further, as well as pulling the tapered horn a little further through my piercing, which was in agony already, but the doctor ignored my complaints, saying it was all part of the test. When my walks were completed, Nurse Sandra changed my pussy weights, adding a shorter tube to the existing ones by mounting each set on a balance beam attached to the clamps, which now meant they all swung about at the slightest movement of my hips. Of course, a few spanks on my bottom with the paddle Dr Forrest was holding ensured my hips thrust forward more than I would have liked, while Nurse Sandra helped me pull my hips back with a few well-placed swats of her strap across my pussy mound. Three or four extra squeezes to my breast bars had my nipples keeping pace with the amount of stretch being applied to my pussy, till after half an hour, they decided I’d reached my limit for this visit, although they did suggest a mid-year visit might be fun. 

Final measurements were taken, and the doctor was very pleased with my progress, and also my cooperation in helping them achieve the biggest increase I’d had in the project so far. The removal of all those devices was quite a relief, but having the two ladies massage all my well stretched flash back into shape was a lot more painful than the steady stretching had been. It didn’t stop me having an orgasm though, when Dr Forrest stroked my clit as if it was a tiny cock she was jerking off. That too was recorded in my notes.

Doctor's Visit 25 - 4 - Compression Test

Doctor's Visit 25 - 4 - Compression Test

The next part of my examination was a compression test to assess the malleability of my body, and its capacity to be formed into different shapes when put under pressure from a selection of bindings. Dr Forrest came over with two big rolls of two inch wide, elasticated bandage, like the ones they use to strap up sprained ankles, and began wrapping it round one of my breasts while the nurse supported its weight. “This will make your fat boobs nice and tiny again,” explained the doctor, “just like a teenager, and no-one will be able to tell you’ve just had them drained of all that milk. That’s an unfortunate side effect of lactating, Katie, big boobs getting all swollen up, and then squeezed out till they’re flat and empty, so we’ll build you a pair of teenage torpedoes to start with, then later we’ll bind them again to a childish flat chest with cute little breast buds.”

As the doctor wrapped the material tightly round the base of the globe, working her way down its length towards my nipple, by the time she reached half way, my breast was swollen and tight near the end, the teat dripping with milk. Nurse Sandra sorted that out for me, with a flat bar clamp over the nipple, tightening the screws till the milk stopped leaking out entirely.

It only took them a few minutes to cover my breast completely, with the end crisscrossed so a swollen aureole and clamped nipple were all that showed, every piece of bandage tugged and stretched to create an all over, constant pressure. The end result was indeed a torpedo, though lacking the curves and contours of a natural breast, it looked completely artificial, especially in contrast to the other side, which now seemed even more flat and deflated than before. This inequality was soon remedied by binding the other breast just as tightly, creating an identical torpedo shape, complete with a silver clamp to prevent my nipple from leaking, and aching just as badly as the first.

In order to check they were both wrapped securely, Dr Forrest had me shake my chest from side to side, producing just a slight jiggle in my lengthened tubes, followed by bending and straightening my knees to bounce them up and down, which was more exaggerated than it was side to side. Finally, she had me doing jumping jacks, and this set up quite a bounce in the tightly wrapped flesh, stiffened by the bandages so that all the pressure was exerted onto my chest, feeling as if my titties were being ripped away from my ribs. Even after the tears were running down my cheeks, the doctor had me perform another dozen jumps before I was allowed to stop, then she had the nurse help her find out how far they could move my breasts manually, pulling them in all directions as she made notes about the stress lines in my skin.

Leaving the bandages compressing my breasts, Dr Forrest brought over a beautiful light blue satin corset, holding it beneath my bust line as she wrapped it round my body while the nurse fastened two rows of hooks to secure it in place. The front came down to a point on top of my smooth pubic mound, the edges swept up above my hip bones, and then plunged into the cleft of my bottom stopping well past the tail bone. It was a totally different style to the corset I’d been fitted with at my last milestone exam, supporting my breasts with a small shelf, while covering half of my pubis instead of framing it with the satin, and cut much higher at the hip.

I obediently leaned on the edge of the examination table as the doctor and nurse laboured together, tugging the laces through their holes, working up and down the interleaved threads that pulled the edges of the corset closer and closer together. When they finished the lacing, tying the strings between my shoulder blades, the corset was punishingly tight as they stood back to admire my re-shaped figure, commenting on my narrow waist and widely flared hips. This corset was another of John Langton’s designs, a friend of Dr Forrest that I’d done some weekend work for a few years ago on her recommendation, mainly modelling in his lingerie store, with the rest of the time filled by re-stocking shelves, tidying rails, or working on the sales register. Pretty much a regular shop job, except the store uniform I had to wear was a corset and high heels, no bra unless it was a high corset, and no panties unless they were a special addition to the garment, usually with internal spikes or a fitted vibrator.

This pale blue corset had a pantie attachment to it, covered in matching blue satin with rows of silver eyelets on the outside, and a thick curved steel bar along the gusset, with quarter inch spikes sticking out all over it. The ends of the spikes were rounded so they wouldn’t pierce the skin, but I’d no doubt they would be very uncomfortable when embedded inside my girl cleft, which was where I guessed they were designed to fit. While the nurse pulled apart my outer labia the doctor carefully eased the bar into my groove, holding it in place as the nurse clipped the front fasteners to anchor points on the bottom edge of the corset, then tucked the rest of it between my legs, where it attached to the boned satin just below my tail bone. There were a couple of laces running through the edges of the panties, which the nurse tightened further and further, pulling them into my groin till I thought my legs would be cut off, but at last she tied them in a secure bow behind me.

Taking my elbow, Nurse Sandra led me across the room to the full length mirror, each step rolling my pussy round the spiked rod in my slit, stimulating me like having ants biting me everywhere. I’ve done something similar at home with a small round hairbrush, but this was much more intense, and the spikes being steel meant I could have been shredded down there if it went wrong. The corset looked amazing, my waist far narrower than I’ve ever seen it, which emphasised my uncovered hips, and the panties gave me an impressive pouty pussy. Dr Forrest brought over a pair of breast gloves to cover the bandages round my bound titties, sliding the pale blue stretch satin down their length, but before she zipped them up, she had Nurse Sandra replace the bar clamps on my nipples. There was a little leakage as they were undone, quickly mopped up, then a pair of silver acorns fitted in their place, a centre plunger pushing out a four jaw collar to open it up at the bottom, which slipped down to the base of each nipple, closing tightly as the plunger was released. A small spring inside pulled down the acorn design cover to hide the jaws as it nestled against the aureole, and when the nurse took the plunger out entirely, it was replaced with a cover topped with a deep blue sapphire.

The final touch was to close the zippers below my breast gloves, which tightened the stretch satin, adding more pressure to my lactating titties, increasing the ache deep inside my large torpedoes. Dr Forrest handed a tape measure to Nurse Sandra to measure the compression and restructuring achieved so far, the results on each part of my squeezed anatomy being put into my research notes.

Telling me to slip my high heels on, Doctor Forrest said I needed a little exercise to allow my internal organs to settle into their restricted space, so I was to go into the waiting area and ask the receptionist for two cups of coffee, one for herself and the other for Nurse Sandra. Before I left, Dr Forrest pulled the sapphire studs from the end of my nipple shields, slipped them in the jump ring of two small bells, and then replaced them so the bells dangled from the end of each breast, tinkling softly at the slightest tremor I made. Every step I took set my bound tits in motion, the small shelf on the corset, supporting them a few inches from my chest, acted as a pivot for the cantilevered cylinders of constrained flesh, the foundation garment gripping my body a few inches too low to prevent the base from moving in the opposite direction to the silver covered tips. Even when I stood still, there was still enough spring to let my breasts bounce several times before settling, providing a gently ringing for a few seconds after I had stopped.

As I walked along the short corridor, my chiming bells announced my impending arrival, not unpleasantly noisily, but sufficient to attract everyone’s attention to me as I entered the large waiting area. With all those eyes admiring my bouncing bosom, and its movement kindling fresh arousal in my laced and aggravated pussy, the spiked steel bar was slipping easily along my dripping wet slit, some of the pins rubbing the base of my clitoris, while another hooked the covering hood upwards. It was very difficult to place my request for coffee as I teetered just this side of orgasm in front of the receptionist, and it took me a moment to realise she’d asked if I wanted sugar in the coffee. She would have known how the doctor and nurse took their coffee every day, but she took the opportunity to send me walking all the way back to enquire myself, extending my exhibition for the on-looking patients and carers, and I’d also be required to return to the desk with their response.

When I entered Dr Forrest’s office she didn’t give me chance to ask about the sugar, but just instructed me to lean against the desk while they tightened my laces a little more, now that my insides had settled. I was gasping by the time they had squeezed my waist another half inch smaller, and I could feel my rib cage folding in on my lungs as the doctor reminded me to breathe with my diaphragm, not my chest, which made things a little bit easier. Armed with the information about their sugar requirements, I sashayed back into reception, my hip swinging increasing the bounce of my titties, and the motion of the bar embedded deep in my wet slit, putting on a show for my audience.

The receptionist had me wait a few moments while finishing a phone call she was on, making me stand with my chest against the counter as she absentmindedly toyed with my little bells, then she handed me two coffees, adding the sugar I requested she said there was no need for any cream since I could supply any that was needed.

When I returned to Dr Forrest’s office she took the coffees and said it was now time that my breasts were emptied again, so Nurse Sandra unzipped the satin sleeves round my titties, then unwrapped the bandages to free them. This is one of the fascinating things Master Mark has taught me to embrace about bondage, that when I reach my limits of being bound, the release afterwards can push me just that little bit further. Nurse Sandra appreciated this as well as she carefully wound the bandage back from my right breast, leaving the two coils at the base till the very last, holding them tight as she stroked the pale blue flesh while it returned to nearly its former rounded shape. Dr Forrest commanded me to grip my opposite elbows behind my back, and then the nurse gave a flick of her wrist and released the blood supply back into the now starved vessels feeding my lactating tit. I struggled to keep my shoulders drawn back as the pain exploded from chest to nipple, trying desperately not to shake the throbbing ache away as it pulsed with each beat of my racing heart.

Unbinding my left breast was even more traumatic, with the pain being combined with my aching right globe, until my whole chest was in agony as the last bandage was removed. It settled down after a few minutes to just a mild discomfort, peaking every so often when the nurse squeezed or lifted one of my titties to check on its progress. While Nurse Sandra held a pretty china cream jug below my breast, Dr Forrest fitted the release pin into the silver acorn clamp on my right nipple, pressing it several times to open the clamp then reapply the lock. Each push sent a streak of agony through my teat, tempered by the rush of fluid through my milk ducts as the white liquid dripped into the waiting cream jug, until the doctor finally took the clamp off altogether. I watched as droplets of milk formed all over my nipple as it flowed out of the ducts, gathering together into much larger drops which fell from the end of the teat and into the flowered china jug.

“Well done, Katie,” Dr Forrest praised me, “your lactation has set in really well this time, but let’s test the effect of sexual arousal on the let-down reflex shall we? Your breast first.” Using a gentle touch, the doctor stroked her fingertips down the upper slope of my right tit, then around the sensitive area just behind my aureole, the tingle in my flesh causing my milk sacs to squeeze down, the steady drip of milk growing to a trickle. “What about your adorable little pussy, young Katie, do you think we can make it purr today?” With that, Dr Forrest tugged at the gusset of the corset, making the spiked bar dig harder into the slit between my wet labia, one spike stretching my clitoral hood, while two others dug into the base of the shaft. The painful stimulation of my tender womanhood increased the flow of milk along with my sexual excitement, one of my milk ducts beginning to spray rather than drip, trailed quickly by a second duct, then a third and fourth, till Nurse Sandra had to slip the mouth of the jug over the end of my breast to catch it all.

The flow soon reduced to nothing when Dr Forrest stopped stimulating my body, but then the left hand nipple clamp was removed, and the procedure repeated on that tittie until I had half-filled the milk jug. Now that the excess milk had been removed, Nurse Sandra fitted the tubes of the breast pump over my teats, and started the machine going, with the pressure at medium while they sat and enjoyed their milky coffee, courtesy of my straining breasts. Every few minutes either the nurse or doctor would reach over and increase the suction a little more, the milk rushing out through my nipple ducts, while the ends of my breasts were drawn deeper in the flared glass tubes. After fifteen minutes, Dr Forrest stopped the pump, removed each tube, and slipped a sleeve halfway down them, before replacing them on my breasts and starting up the pump again. Slowly, my breast flesh was pulled into the tube until my nipples reached the sleeve, where the centre hole was only a little larger in diameter than the teat itself, but there was sufficient pressure to force the brown flesh down the full length of the hole, and out into the lower section of the glass tubes.

As the suction was stepped up again, the sleeves prevented my breast from going any further inside, but I could now see that the hole was in fact tapered at either end, the upper narrowing compressing my aureole into the thin tube, and the lower reduction allowing both my nipples to flare out somewhat. My milk was spraying strongly into the collection chamber, but it was not left to the suction alone, because Dr Forrest would pull, rotate, and twist the tubes so that more of my nipple was pulled through, and more of the aureole was sucked deeper into the constriction. Quite soon the complete brown fleshy area at the end of my breasts had pulled down the central hole, which now showed the paler tittie flesh inside it, but my aureole had resumed its previous globular shape in the lower section, only more so due to the suction.

It took another agonising five minutes before every last drop of milk was pumped out of me, twenty five minutes of being handled like a dairy cow, even having to kneel on the table, with my udders hanging down while they were squeezed and pulled. The tubes were disconnected, leaving just the sleeves holding my nipples and aureoles like puffies on a stick, which Nurse Sandra pulled and tugged in every direction, working the bloated flesh back through the small channel much more painfully than when they’d been inserted. At last they were free, but kept their rounded shape, like the puffies I’d loved when my tits first began to blossom, only much more sensitive.

The nurse now took the bandages that had bound my breasts earlier, and wrapped them round my chest this time, above one breast and below the other, round the back, then over and under the opposite way, compressing my empty globes, but leaving a three inch gap around each of the swollen nipples. When she had finished, I’d been left with a pair of apple sized boobies, topped with beautiful puffies, and hard, pointed nipples, just like I’d had when I was fourteen years old, only even firmer. I gasped when Doctor Forrest squeezed the erect teats, flicking them with her finger to demonstrate that they hardly wobbled at all, then licking them to show just how sensitive they were. Nurse Sandra brought over a pale blue crop top, similar to a training bra, slipped it over my arms and head, then fitted the garment round my chest, just above the top of the matching corset, the material so clingy that it displayed every detail of my little girl titties. I was informed that the bindings would remain in place for half an hour, and in the meantime I could return the empty cups to reception, which I recognized was just another excuse to put me on exhibition to everyone in the waiting room.

Doctor's Visit 25 - 3 - Lactation Test

Doctor's Visit 25 - 3 - Lactation Test

Amy was invited to examine my right breast while Jessica examined my left, both of them being asked to use the standard technique they use for their self-exams at home, but as they  began to press and squeeze my titties, I asked them to please be careful because I was rather tender. Doctor Forrest asked for opinions as to my tenderness, getting several from each one of the students, Naomi coming closest when she suggested I looked like her pregnant sister who had hard swollen breasts because she was pregnant, but there was no sign of a bump to match my titties.

The doctor praised Naomi for being observant, and comparing my condition to something she had seen, rather than just read about in class, adding that while I wasn’t pregnant, having just finished a period, but I was suffering from a very serious aftereffect of menstruation, in that I was beginning to lactate. Knowing the girls were probably familiar with the symptoms of a period, she asked Martin what was happening, and he gave a very good explanation of breast tenderness in the pre-menstrual part of the cycle, although he thought that it would have gone back to normal by this stage.

Dr Forrest clarified that it was be due to the tablets I’d been taking for several weeks, getting me prepared for a lactation test which was a very important part of the development study I was on, so they could investigate girls’ ability to produce milk, without the consequences of having to go through a pregnancy. She gently took hold of my left breast herself, asking how it felt as she established the firmness of my flesh, and stopping whenever the soreness made me wince too much. She informed the students that I was now much more responsive than in any of my early screens now that they’d found the right balance of hormones to administer so I  could be made to lactate on every occasion since my last milestone investigation.

She gave them details of my tablets, low dose Progesterone and Estrogen, similar to those hormones produced by my own body during the two weeks before a period starts, but they normally drop off afterwards, whereas the tablets prevent the usual bodily changes from returning to normal, in particular, my breasts. This was to facilitate the test, and the low dose tablets taken twice daily for seven days triggered the breasts to swell more as the milk glands enlarge further, but I’d now been on the medication for five weeks, so I was well developed.

My appointment had been arranged for day 5 of my cycle, which requires an increase in the Prolactin levels to stimulate full milk production, this being achieved with a second set of tablets I took, and since that was several hours ago they would now relieve a little bit of the pressure that was building up. The four students watched as I was told to massage my breasts with my hands, squeezing from my chest to my nipples, followed by rolling the teat between thumb and forefinger. It was fairly painful touching my aching titties, especially the sensitive nipples, but the stimulus was arousing my clit, and turning me on again. Dr Forrest allowed the students to take turns trying to express my milk after I’d shown them how it was done, in spite of not actually having produced anything yet, and it became more painful as each of one tried harder, applying more force as if lack of pressure was the problem, which I knew was not the case.

Finally, Dr Forrest called a halt when Martin was stretching my right nipple and twisting it like a bottle top as if that would let the milk out, and asked the students to describe the breast structures associated with lactation. Naomi and Jessica provided most of the answers about the alveoli producing the milk, transport through the milk canals, and into the collection sacs, while Amy explained the baby’s latching and suckling techniques for drawing the milk from the sacs, through the nipple, and into its mouth. Martin seemed surprised to learn there were actually holes in a woman’s nipples, having never thought the process through, nor seen any women actually breastfeeding (sheltered life, poor lad). None of them knew what happened to the ducts in the nipples when a woman was not giving milk, so the doctor explained that in order to stop any bacteria entering the breast through the nipple, the woman’s body created a Keratin plug to seal each of the lactiferous ducts. Sometimes this plug could be manipulated during a hot bath or shower, by rolling and stretching the nipple until the Keratin exuded onto the outside tip of the teat, particularly during the pre-menstrual period when the breasts were tender, and with diligence the woman could achieve milk expression. I’ve done it myself on a few occasions, and it’s really painful, so I have to be in the mood for it to work before I give up trying, but it’s much more erotic if someone else does it, and they do it to me, rather than for me.

"What we need for Katie are some duct pins," the doctor told the students, bringing over a small black leather case from a glass cabinet, then opening it up to display the black velvet interior to the students, with a row of twelve slender steel pins that looked like hypodermic needles. "These are not needles,” the doctor started to explain, “they are Nipple Duct Pins, solid shafts of titanium steel, with a safely rounded end. They are based on a Galactography cannula which is used to inject dye into a lactiferous duct for mammography, in cases of breast lumps, and these are 30 Gauge in size, that's 0.25 mm. We use them for clearing out blocked ducts, particularly in nursing Moms, and since our Katie’s milk ducts have become clogged, so that she’s not letting out the breast milk that she’s now producing, we get to stick pins her."

I have a strong dislike for needles, and it had taken me a while to get used to Dr Forrest using these little devices on my poor little titties, but her comment about sticking me with pins was intended to set up that anxiety in me, and add an edge to this part of the treatment. Although I was grateful that I wasn't going to be stuck with sharp needles, the idea of having my nipples cleared was not something I ever looked forward to. The doctor had always explained to me how women lactate during their period, even before mine had started, that's why their breasts get swollen and sore. Generally it would go away after a few days, and the milk was washed away during a shower, without being noticed, but Doctor Forrest told me that she wanted me to help mine along by massaging them whenever they became uncomfortable. Even when they were a tiny bud no bigger than my thumb, I would have to press and squeeze them three times a day no matter where I was, and at least once during the week they were most tender, I had to get one of the adults to help me, depending on who was in charge. Sometimes it would be Mom, if I was at school it would be the nurse, or Miss Angela the swim coach, and during school breaks I had to ask Grandad to help me, explaining what my problem was, and every now and then he’d ask my Uncle Robert to do it because he was busy with something else. I still massage them now instead of taking pain meds if they get tender.

Unfortunately, Dr Forrest has graduated me to having my nipples cleaned out more thoroughly since my milestone exam when I was 21, and all the Keratin was going to be removed with the pins so that my initial lactation could be started up right away, and then I could be brought into full milk production within a few days.

Taking one of the pins from her case, the doctor started working it into the small indentations in my nipples, emphasising the need to use a very light touch due to the delicate structure of these ducts, and the danger of damaging the walls. Steadily she dug the shaft further and further into the middle of each erect teat, winding it round slightly, changing from one duct to another, and drawing out a yellow paste which she calmly wiped on a gauze pad laid on my chest. At times it was agonising to have the tenderest part of my breasts stretched and poked like this, the students were allowed to have a go, under strict supervision, Martin being the most gentle, while all three girls seemed to be extremely rough with me. When the pins were finished with at last, it was time for Dr Weston and Dr Forrest to stretch and squeeze the nipples themselves, pinching the back of my aureole, then pulling forward right to the end of the teat. The yellow discharge now flowed out like toothpaste with each painful tug, till it began to grow thinner and more runny, finally becoming the pale milky fluid the doctor was looking for.

After cleaning up my aching titties, Doctor Forrest phoned the nurse to bring the Lactina pump to her office, telling me they'd soon have me drained and comfortable again, as the breast pump she was going to use would have me empty in no time at all, which I already knew from experience. I’ve dabbled in erotic pumping a few times with a small hand unit I bought from an adult store, enjoying the mild pain associated with it, the massively engorged nipples and clit, as well as the cute puffies that look like I’m 15years old again, but this was going to be a whole different level. The doctor had used the Lactina model on me when I was 21, and she’d kept me milking for a couple of weeks after my check-up as well, returning to her office several times for a follow up, and to the drug store I’d rented the pump from. Other times she’d used a smaller Symphony model, with much less suction, during my usual yearly exams, but they were only for short periods.

When the nurse had wheeled the large pump in on a trolley, Dr Forrest showed the different attachments to the students, glass tubes from half inch diameter upwards, to fit over the teat, aureole, and increasing amounts of breast flesh, sucking them inside till they filled the tube. Plastic tubes joined them to the strong pump, with collection jars fitted in between to catch the milk that would be pulled out of my nipples until there was none left, at which point the extraction ends would be replaced with moulding accessories. There were long glass tubes like coffee jars, domes of different sizes, and some with narrow necks that opened up to the size of a golf ball, or a pool ball, that the doctor said were designed to add contours to a girl’s plain, normal tittie.

The nurse had attached a pair of regular small tubes with collection jars in line, setting them on the trolley as she slipped more Velcro restraints round my calf, knee, and thigh, then my forearm, elbow, and biceps, rendering me totally immovable. Dr Forrest went on to explain that within an hour or so of taking my Prolactin tablet this morning I should have applied suction to my nipples, or used manual expression to pull the milk into my duct, and out through the teats. Since that had been a few hours ago, I was now quite swollen and full, my body shivering as her hand stroked over the tight globe of my breast, and my erect nipple, while the nurse massaged my other engorged breast till they had me breathless.

The nurse handed two breast cups to Doctor Forrest who placed one over each of my breasts, centred on my nipples, then asked "Level 2 please Sandra, to start her off". I looked over at the young woman by the machine, seeing her badge, Sandra Ashton – Assistant Nurse, then recognising her from the first time I’d been milked four years ago. She turned a switch up 2 clicks, and a gentle suction pulled at my breasts. It wasn’t very noticeable at first, but every few seconds it pulsed, the vacuum gradually increased, and my teats were drawn further into the cups. Turning to the students, the doctor said “Now we use an aerosol spray of Oxytocin to the patient’s pulse spots during the suction phase to start the let-down reflex, causing the milk ducts to contract and eject milk from Katie’s charming nipples." Dr Forrest sprayed a cool liquid on the inside of my wrists, my lower neck, and the inside top of my thighs. "This should be repeated every 2 hours to maintain lactation for as many days as may be required, which mimics the baby’s feeding schedule that would normally condition the mother to set her own hormones producing. However, with the spray and the Lactina pump, we could keep Katie producing milk for a few years. How does that sound, sweetheart, do you fancy being a milk maid, it would pay quite well you know". Doctor Forrest made me the same offer every year, and while the fantasy of the idea made my pussy wet, I wasn’t ready to make that level of commitment to a play scene.

Nurse Sandra increased the suction another level when asked, the pulses becoming stronger as Dr Forrest stroked my cheek encouragingly, “Come on, precious, you’re doing well so far, and you’re nearly ready to start. Just relax and let go.” Her hand slid across my tummy, down to my smooth love mound, as she told the students how the erogenous zones of the vulva had connections to the breast, her touch distracting me from the discomfort in my titties. Moving into my groove, her fingers ran either side of my clit, and my hips lifted towards her, seeking the pleasure the doctor so easily raised in my prone body. As my clitoris was teased more and more, the doctor pointed out the signs of my arousal, adding that sexual intercourse, and even masturbation, can trigger a mother’s milk let-down reflex. When Amy was asked to spread my labia open, and Jessica slid a long finger inside my pussy, suddenly I could feel a rush in my nipples, like having a pee. “Good girl, Katie,” said the doctor, “you're starting to leak now. Can you see the milk coming out of your teats.”

I watched as the milk droplets began to form on my nipples, merging slowly together before dripping into the collecting cups. Nurse Sandra turned the control switch to 4, increasing the suction to make the drops form faster, a sensation of tightness and swelling began half way back in my breasts, inside rather than on the surface, and I could visualise all those alveoli in full flow. Sandra turned the pump up to 5, to start a constant stream flowing, the fascinating sight of myself being milked like this thrilled me as it always has done since Dr Forrest first had me lactating, and it is so much more erotic than any of the fantasies I’ve had about this. While I appreciate that the reality of being married, pregnant and feeding my baby will make these games pale into insignificance, for the moment I’m enjoying the privilege my doctor is allowing me, within the confines of the research program, or maybe just a little outside them.

 “Now then Katie, you know the drill,” Dr Forrest announced, “we need a measurement for the study of your initial flow, taken over ten minutes, during which Sandra will step up the suction every two minutes. Try to relax, and this time imagine you’re on vacation to a small backwoods farm, the farmer has tied you over a hay bale in the paddock, and two calves are trying to feed while the cattle are out in the fields, sucking really hard, and licking their long rough tongues across your milky nipples.” Dr Forrest's visual descriptions always work to get my milk flowing, knowing just the situations that turn me on the most, and I could see the milk flowing faster, then the nurse increased the suction switch another notch. I watched as my swollen nipples started spraying milk onto the inside of the plastic cups, and I could now actually feel it being drawn out of my nipples, with a tingle spreading quite pleasurably into the whole of my breasts.

“Come on Katie you're slowing,” said Dr Forrest, “we've expressed just over 1.5 ounces, and there are two more minutes left to reach a full 2 ounces. Sandra will increase the suction now to uncomfortable levels, but I'm sure you can do this without much trouble so you are to ask us to increase the pressure every time I signal you, so you can show these students what an obedient, brave girl you can be, when you are told.”

This was one of the games I played at home, either on my own, or with my Mom, and I had discussed it with the doctor several times during my visits, in fact she quite likes to make me confess my sexual exploits. Whenever I want to push my limits, I will take myself up to a normal level, then say “More please,” and increase whatever I was doing at the time, or Mom would increase it, if we were playing together. Master Mark likes us to play it together when he’s there, making it a competition between us to see who can go the farthest. The doctor placed her hand over my girlcleft, fingers on top, with her thumb hooked under my clit, and squeezed with her fingertips digging into my flesh, which I knew was her signal. I didn't really have a choice in this, since I'd relinquished control to Dr Forrest at the beginning of the session, so I obediently said, “More please, Nurse,” and Sandra complied with my request. I could feel my milk flowing out faster, and the tingling in the end of my breasts increased so that it was no longer just a background sensation, more like having a heavy duty vibrator used on them. After about 30 seconds, Dr Forrest squeezed my cunny again, harder this time, her thumb digging into my clitoris, stroking up and down the shaft. “More please, Nurse,” I asked again, two more clicks signalled a bigger increase this time, and I felt a much greater suction on my titties. Nurse Sandra announced, “That's level 7 now Doctor, but we’ve lots more to go yet.” She came over to my side and pulled the cups upwards slightly, stretching my breasts with them, but they were securely attached, and my nipples were being dragged further down the tubes, milk gushing out of them. Once more, Dr Forrest dug her fingers into my mound, and I thrust my hips hard into the sharp nails. “Please Nurse Sandra,” I asked, with a pleading tone in my voice, “please can you turn up the suction on my titties.” Another click on the pump made me arch my back, and my hands tried to reach up, but the Velcro straps held me secure as I watched my poor bosom being sucked further into the suction tubes, my nipples extended to over an inch long.

“Just a few more seconds Katie my love,” Doctor Forrest told me, squeezing my pussy hard once more.

It was really difficult to keep going at this point, my breasts ached so much, yet I responded quietly, “One more please Nurse.” Another click, “That’s level 9 you’ve reached Katie,” said the nurse, “I’m sure you could take it up another one, sweetheart. Well, tell me.”

With her last comment accentuated, my submissiveness kicked in even stronger, the back of my neck tingling, making me gasp out, “Yes please,” even though both my breasts were now throbbing deep inside, and I watched my nipples getting longer. There were only a few drops leaking from my left breast now, my right had been completely drained, but the sensations in my milk ducts were breath-taking, boosted by the fire deep in my pussy as the doctor stroked my erect clit. There could only be a few seconds left now, but since the doctor hadn’t called time, and I knew I wasn’t quite at my limit yet, I asked for one more level, arching upwards when Nurse Sandra delivered it. I was frozen in that position till the nurse slowly dropped the suction back to almost nothing, and then pulled the cups off one at a time, with a loud pop.

While Dr Forrest discussed the success of my lactation test with Dr Weston and his students, Nurse Sandra wiped me down with a warm washcloth, then released the Velcro straps from my arms and legs, helping me to sit up in the chair. The doctor carefully examined my breasts now that they had been drained, rolling my nipples between her fingers, gripping them tight as she pulled hard from my chest, showing the students how far they could be stretched, as she promised me that I’d be drained three or four times before I left today. She measured the length and diameter of both teats with a ruler, recording the results in my notes, and then she complemented me for being able to deliver 2.8 ounces of milk on my first session, adding that she would expect a higher volume later that day.

Dr Weston thanked me for putting up with their intrusion, saying that was all they had time for that morning but he might send one of the girls to interview me later on, and then he left the examination room, with his students following him out.

When the nurse helped me to stand up Dr Forrest rubbed my lower tummy, just above my pubis, and pressed on my bladder, till I almost pee’d myself. “Katie, you seem rather full, young lady,” she remarked, putting two fingers inside my pussy to massage the back of my urethra while her thumb rotated the entrance of my pee hole, just below my clitoris. I was struggling to hold myself back as she massaged my bladder from inside and outside at the same time, pressing her fingertips in till it hurt terribly, then stroking gently till I began to drip into her hand, at which point she stopped tormenting me. Asking the nurse to pass her one of the large glass sample jars, Dr Forrest held it between my legs while Nurse Sandra pulled my outer lips wide apart, and then told me to pee for five seconds before stopping the flow for an initial check.

I obediently followed the doctor’s orders, my heart racing at the prospect of what might turn out to be another chance to see how submissive I could be for her. When the main flow had stopped, Nurse Sandra pressed her finger against my pee hole to stop the drips, with her nail slipped beneath the base of my clitoral hood, pressing against the shaft itself. Dr Forrest put the glass of urine up to the light, commenting on the colour and lack of solids, and then held it to her nose, inhaling with a wide smile on her face as she said how delicious the fragrance of fresh maiden’s water was. Turning towards me, Dr Forrest held out the glass, asking me to describe the taste as she put it to my lips, tipping it slightly when I opened my mouth to allow her to pour in a spoonful of my own pee.

After rolling it around in my mouth as if it were a fine wine, I swallowed, and then reported, “It has a mild taste doctor, not very acidic, slightly sweet, with just a hint of spices from last night’s meal.” She thanked me for my help, writing my findings in my notes, before pouring some of the urine into a sample bottle, which she labelled with my details, then placed on her desk. “Katherine,” she said to me, “would you place your hands behind you, and incline your head right back to look at the ceiling.”

The rush in my lower tummy as I obeyed was everything I expected it to be, building as the nurse wound her hand into my hair to keep me in place, then again as Dr Forrest instructed, “Open your mouth wide Katherine, and purse your lips ever so slightly. Good girl. Breathe through your nose from now on.”

I felt the glass against my cheek, and then the warm fluid trickled over my tongue, and up against where my throat was closed. There was just a small amount, as Doctor Forrest did sometimes to show how obedient I was, even with something this extreme, but then she poured in some more, making me extend my tongue, then touch the roof of my mouth. Bringing over a small step, she raised herself over my face, so she could see better what she was doing, pouring another small amount of urine in my mouth, then another, and five more till the glass was empty, and my wide open mouth was full. She had me swallow some of my pee till I could close my mouth, and then ordered me to keep it there while she took another sample, from mid-stream this time, so I had to pee in the jar a second time until it was nearly full to the brim before I was told to stop.

When Dr Forrest had prepared another sample bottle, I was instructed to empty my mouth a little at a time, and then tilt my head back once more while the rest of my urine was re-cycled into my mouth, slowly filling, holding, and swallowing the liquid till the whole glass was empty, which took four refills of my mouth. I’ve played water games with Mom sometimes, which the doctor is well aware of and approves, but this was the largest amount I’ve ever swallowed in one session, and none of it was thrown away or spit out. I drank it all, apart from two small sample bottles that went to the lab for testing. While I wouldn’t have asked for something as extensive as this, Doctor Forrest’s setting of it being a compulsory medical procedure was a superb turn on for me.

Doctor's Visit 25 - 2 - Student Training

Doctor's Visit 25 - 2 - Student Training

Having finished documenting my sparse bush, Dr Forrest had just put the camera away when the door opened and Dr Weston walked into the exam room, followed by a young man, and three young women, all of them dressed in white lab coats, with stethoscopes hanging round their necks. Brian Weston’s a good looking guy, and I always liked having him examine me, he’s very thorough, and says sorry when he’s going to cause me pain. The other four people were strangers though, but he introduced them all to Dr Forrest, clarifying they were all first year students, which I’ve had sit in on a few of my visits before, even though these looked young enough to be still at high school, and one of the girls could be attending junior high. He explained it would be really useful for them to experience a full development research study assessment, and I would be a wonderful subject since this was a very important stage, the first milestone exam following a young girl’s 21^st check-up, and with several unusual events for me between them. Brian Weston had a captivating voice, and he always addressed me as if I were a young girl, or a small child, as if I were still only 10 years old, though in all honesty, it made me tingle all over. Dr Forrest was good at getting me in a submissive frame of mind, agreeable to all her instructions, but Dr Weston seemed expert at shaping my actual feelings into a 10 year old, not just my outward responses.

I climbed into the Ob/Gyn chair, and a nurse fastened the Velcro straps round my wrists and ankles to prevent any accidents, but being restrained had my heart racing, knowing I would be helpless to resist whatever they wanted to do to me. Dr Forrest took various instruments from cabinets round the walls, placing them on a steel trolley table, all neatly displayed for me to see. Some of the shiny stainless steel tools I’d seen before, during previous exams, some of them I had seen while surfing the web, and a few I didn’t recognise at all. In amongst them were several scalpels of various sizes, some long, large diameter needles, and scrapers that the doctor sometimes used to free my clitoral hood from the shaft so it could be cleaned. Dr Forrest knew I had a fear of needles, and sharp blades, and always included some during procedures like this to introduce a level of uncertainty in me.

When she wheeled the table over to the side of me, Dr Forrest explained to the students that I was scheduled for a lot more tests at this stage of the study, now that I was 25 years old, and she would expect me to be adult about the way I handled them. She told them I was a rather submissive girl, so they could treat me in a more casual way than most patients they would be looking after, omitting explanations just to put me at ease, but using those which would make me aware of impending discomfort. They could be as forceful as they wished when handling my body since I was quite used to being spanked and stretched, getting a level of enjoyment from such treatment, as long as they were careful not to tear anything, or to inflict permanent damage without authority. When she told me to say that it was agreeable, I promised I would try my best to be obedient, and I would use my safe word only as a very last resort. I already knew from previous visits that the milestone exams could be very harrowing, but I had never been badly harmed, and Dr Forrest would always make sure I experienced more pleasure than I did pain.

The doctor gripped a small tuft of my pubic hair, tugging it as she explained to the students how she’d already taken photographs to document my bush, and since she loves to have her girls childishly bald down there, and derives great pleasure from de-nuding them herself, it was time to remind the patient just how young and clean they look when completely bald.

Using disposable razors they would each carefully shave away every single hair I’d grown in the last few months, leaving baby soft skin that would be tested with their fingers first, then with a much more sensitive method. She would allocate an area for each of them to shave me, then the final delight was to oil the freshly shaved skin, with each nook and crevice diligently attended to, and rubbed till every trace of oil was absorbed.

The students gathered round the chair I was seated in and the young man asked why my bush was to be removed if it’s growth was part of the study, so Dr Weston clarified for him that hair patterns were often allowed to follow the patient’s own preferences. His fingers trailed across the soft fur of my raised mound as he turned towards me, “Katie here likes her girlcleft smooth and hairless, don’t you, little girl.”

“Yes Sir, it’s much nicer that way,” I replied.

“But if she never lets her pubic hair grow,” continued one of the young women, “then how can she be part of that section of the study program, without skewing the results.”

Dr Forrest answered this point, “We remind all our patients not to shave for at least a week before their appointment, but some of the program participants aren’t always co-operative, although, as it happens, the numbers don’t adversely affect the study, because it’s a very large sample. However, our young Katie here is in a control group, so she’s never any problem, are you poppet.” The students looked a bit confused, so the doctor explained that a number of the survey entrants were screened for their inclusion in a special collection of participants, called a control group. These had unassuming personalities, some were quite open to suggestion, some of them were eager to help achieve the objectives of the study despite many of the more personal discomforts, and others, like Katie, were very submissive, obediently following any instructions they were given.”

Amy was handed a disposable razor and told to dry shave my right labia from the point my slit started, right round to the top of my anal groove, going with the direction of the hair, and they would repeat it later using shaving foam, but for now it would allow a much better view. As Amy shaved from my groin inwards, Dr Forrest asked if that was the method she used on her own bikini line, and the girl admitted that on herself she would have stretched the labia tight as she went along. The doctor pointed out that shaving this area is a beautifully personal, intimate act that women react differently to, and a doctor needs to be aware of her patient’s response, prompting them for feedback, and assessing their needs, some of which are subtly hinted at. Amy tucked her fingers into my slit, one of them across my clit, and another in the dip of my vaginal entrance, making me tremble slightly at the sensations, which Dr Forrest pointed out to her, suggesting she keep taking a fresh grip quite often, and pull the lip out in tugs, rather than using a gentle pressure. The other students were encouraged to watch my face for signs of distress or concern that would indicate a strong aversion to the contact level Amy was using, recommending a different approach be adopted if it seemed to be a serious problem.

Naomi made the observation that I seemed more excited than distressed for some reason, so Doctor Forrest invited her to move round and pull my other labia out of the way so that she could get a better view of how Amy was working. She gently eased my slit apart, displaying the pink inner flesh, pulling harder as the doctor encouraged her, till my petal almost tore off under the pressure, but Naomi explained to the others that she could see Amy’s finger against my clitoral shaft, and another working its way into my vagina. Dr Weston assured them that many women found their pelvic exams to be very stressful, but a subtle stimulation of their erogenous zones, appearing accidental, would raise their sexual excitement, which in turn would prove a distraction from the anxiety and make the experience a more enjoyable one.

When Amy had removed all the hair from her designated area, she stepped back so Jessica could take her place and shave my other outer lip, which she did with just as much expertise as Amy had demonstrated, being just as forceful at pulling me about. Jessica’s nails though, were longer than Amy’s and she worked the point under my clitoral hood to dig in right at the base of the shaft, while one of her other nails dug into that tender spot just below the bottom of my cunny entrance. It was all I could do not to squirm about as she ran the sharp blade up my labia from one end to the other. 

Naomi shaved the right half of my mound, and then Martin shaved the left half, leaving me perfectly baby smooth, without a single nick to my skin. Dr Forrest produced a bottle of nice scented oil, and each of the students massaged it into my bare skin, so by the time all four of them had finished I was panting on the edge of orgasm, which the doctor pointed out to them all, and also warned me that I hadn’t been given permission yet, so I reluctantly had to calm myself down.

The chair I was attached to was adjusted to a more upright sitting position, which the doctor told the young students was to enable a breast examination, and while there were different techniques for handling breasts, it was important to conduct a visual inspection first. Position was important, as viewing from different angles and distance could reveal changes in shape and structure indicative of many conditions, so they were to move round to both sides, above the patient and below, then present their observations at the end. Dr Forrest also gave them all some tips concerning the white lab coats they were wearing, which had uses other than just protecting their day clothes.

Amy’s coat was quite close fitting, so the doctor asked her to step up to my left side, then to lean over my body and look along the outside of my right breast, pointing out how a properly fitted garment kept itself clear of the patient, avoiding unnecessary contact. Jessica wore hers unfastened, and everyone watched as she moved between my thighs, the open edges trailing along the sensitive skin on either side as it neared my spread pussy, setting my legs trembling slightly. Doctor Forrest warned Jessica to watch her coat as its edges worked into my slit, the dripping girl juice wetting the white cotton, but she wouldn’t want to get it on her nice skirt. However, there were advantages to the situation, such as stimulating female patients almost to the point of orgasm while they would often be too embarrassed to make an issue of it, just quietly suffering their rising tide of sexual excitement.

Dr Weston advised the youngsters to make sure they kept a Farley File on all their patients, to record such things as shyness and sexual excitability that they didn’t want to appear in their official practice records, but were extremely useful in setting controls on how far they could push the boundaries of medical ethics. They should try different methods as they examined patients to see which ones worked best, and produced the most interesting responses, as most people were unique in their attitudes and upbringing. He’d known patients that were virtually frigid with their partners, valiantly resisting all efforts to draw out personal matters, yet when pressed to submit to an intimate exam, could be brought to multiple orgasms, and suffer quite extreme treatment in the process. While some of them wouldn’t return after their first display, many of them found ample reasons to present with symptoms that may require a repeat visit, and multiple follow ups, especially when new wrinkles were added to the procedures.

Demonstrating how pockets could be useful, Dr Forrest asked Naomi to slip her spiral bound notebook into her pocket then lean over to examine me, paying attention to how the wire had rubbed along the skin of my waist, making me twitch as it tickled the sensitive nerve ends. Swapping it with her own pad, Dr Forrest pointed out to Naomi that the end of the spiral was now sticking out towards the patient, and as she moved up and down the table, I was being scratched rather than tickled, and on being told to press up against me, the wire pressed hard into my flesh without breaking the skin. The doctor told them she had a range of notepads specially prepared for various patients, depending on what their Farley file indicated, one of them even had a sharp point that would actually penetrate the skin quite deeply, and several patients would subject themselves to multiple wounds being inflicted without complaint. Of course there would be profuse apologies afterward, but the same process would be willingly endured on subsequent visits, often with just a change of site for the damage.

Martin was next, being told to put his stethoscope into one pocket with the earpiece out, and a haemostat into the other with the jaws sticking out, then stand between my spread thighs and gently test the firmness of my breasts with his hands. Dr Forrest showed him how to adjust his stance without being obvious in what he was doing, slowly pressing the stethoscope end into the lower part of my slit, gradually working it deeper into my pussy entrance. Eventually there was four inches of the earpiece inserted into me, the curve making it rub along the soft lower wall of my vagina and the upper side of the entrance as Martin moved in and out with each change of position. After a few minutes he stepped back quickly, the sudden removal making me arch my hips as he asked if I was comfortable, under direction from the doctor, which I assured him I was. Dr Weston explained the importance of engaging with the patient to ensure they had opportunity to voice any concerns they had, enabling a doctor to modify a treatment to remain within their comfort zone.

Brian Weston came over to my side, resting his hand on my breast, with his thumb stroking the erect teat, as he asked me to help out by showing a little reluctance during the next part of my examination. I agreed of course, since just the sound of this guy’s voice makes me wet, and he’d always taken very good care of me in the past when he was the duty doctor. Martin continued to examine my breasts as gently as before, but now turned his hips the other way, so that the haemostat in his pocked was now poking into my slit, though a little further up than the stethoscope had. The jaws rubbed against my throbbing clit, and despite the delicious sexual tingle rippling through my pussy, I winced, telling Martin, when he asked, that there was something sticking in me “down there”. At this point Dr Weston intervened, explaining to the students that if they didn’t know the patient’s history then they would have to gauge the level of the complaint being raised by studying the facial expression and the intensity of the objection. Asking the students for their observations, Amy said my slight frown showed only mild distress, and Naomi added that there had been a glint in my eye, more like strong sexual arousal, so maybe I didn’t want them to know I was getting turned on. Jessica pointed out that she thought my protest lacked conviction, and seemed more apologetic, as if I didn’t really want to make a fuss.

Commending them all Dr Weston confirmed that many female patients became aroused when being man-handled, or woman-handled he added, nodding towards the girls, but felt that they were expected to object for social reasons, and hide the effect it was having on them. Often it was enough to encourage them to be brave, or to tell them not to be silly girls, whichever had the most successful effect on the individual, and to carry on, taking care to monitor responses as they changed. Martin was instructed to exchange the haemostat for a wider jawed pair, and set them slightly open; making sure the patient could see the instruments that were going to be used on them as it increased expectant anxiety levels. When he stepped back between my legs and leaned forward, the opened jaws now rubbed up either side of my clitoral shaft and pushed the hood further back each time he moved, exposing more of my love button till the metal was digging into the base, right against my body.