Claire's Visit to the College Doctor

'Oh, I'm sorry Miss Turner. You should have said to stop. I was beginning to wonder.. the dilation is some way above what we usually reach. With other subjects, I mean.' He started to wind the cylinder back down in size, but not before reading off the dilation value and entering it into the iPad. As she felt the thing inside her shrinking and the tension in her vaginal walls reducing, she felt a sense of loss, somehow. A disappointment. In her erotic reverie, she had almost wanted him to go on further still, to feel her insides tear, to reach her pinnacle of painful, erotic excitement. 'Well! That's quite a high value, you got to there. 9.7 centimetres, no less!' The fact of his astonishment only served to bring back her embarrassment. Was she some kind of freak? Was her vagina too large? Why did she feel pleasure and arousal at something that should have been only painful? But before she could finish the thought, he had slid the cylinder gently out of her and was now wiping off her intimate moisture with a paper towel before placing it back on the instrument trolley.

'Ok. Final measurement now, then the imaging and we're done.' As he spoke, he selected another small object from the tray. Claire couldn't quite see it well enough to make it out. 'So this little gizmo is to measure the size of your clitoris,' he said. She was reminded of what he'd said earlier about the size of hers being evidence of masturbation and she blanched at the thought that he would now be putting an actual number on it.

'So..umm.. what size would be normal, doctor?' she asked, somewhat gingerly.

'For your clitoris? Oh there's quite a variation,' he replied. 'Typically it would be about three to five millimetres across.'

'Do you mean the actual clitoris itself? Not the whole thing?' He nodded.

'The glans, yes. It's called the glans.'

'Isn't that the end of a man's penis?'

'Yes, that too,' he explained. 'They are analogous structures. The penis and the clitoris both have a glans.'

'Really? I never knew that.'

'Ok, so I need to fit this little thing over your clitoris and then adjust it so it fits snugly. A bit like the device on your nipple, if you remember?' She did. And she remembered how nice it felt. She was more than a little concerned that this would feel even nicer and that her response would be obvious.

'Ok,' she replied. He leaned forward and she could feel a slight upward tugging.

'First we have to expose the clitoris by retracting the hood.' She then felt him put the object over her exposed clitoris. The extreme sensitivity made her flinch slightly.

'Sorry,' he said. 'I realise it's very tender just there.' Claire laughed nervously and looked up to that patch of ceiling again, trying to distract herself. 'Ok, I just need to attach this syringe to pump out a little of the air.' The sound of the word 'syringe' temporarily alarmed her.

'Syringe?'

'Only the syringe part. No needle. Don't worry. I just need to take a little of the air out to bring your clitoris fully inside the measuring bulb.'

'Oh. Ok, doctor.' She then experienced a rather delicious sensation. As -- she assumed -- he was pulling back on the syringe, she could feel her tender bud being drawn into whatever the cup was that he had attached to her. Claire could feel the tiny organ swelling with excitement and she was becoming moist again. This time, she tried hard to control herself. Manage her breathing. But it wasn't easy. Now he appeared to be tightening something and she experienced a firm, but very pleasant, gripping sensation which gave her those butterflies she associated so closely with sexual desire. Her cheeks flushed. Don't stop, she thought. The grasping increased a little and then she heard him mutter some numbers,

'5.7.. 11.. 2 over 8..' And then it was over again. He quickly released the device and slipped it gently off her now rather engorged and sensitised clitoris. 'Ok.. all done. Hope that wasn't too uncomfortable?'

'Oh no, doctor,' replied Claire. 'Not at all. In fact, it was...' But she checked herself, not really wanting to admit to him exactly how it had made her feel. 'It was fine.'

'Good.' He stood up, replaced the device on his tray and proceeded to reach up to the light and camera rig, moving it down and to the centre, between her legs. 'Last part. The imaging. Then we're all done and you can get out of here.'

'Ok, doctor.' She was looking at him as he positioned the camera just six inches or so from her genitals. She felt more apprehensive than before because of the very intimate nature of what was about to be photographed. She'd rather not have these shots taken, but she felt obliged to continue. It wouldn't be fair to back out now, so late in the process. He flipped on the two lights and the screen and she saw her own sex displayed hugely. Shamelessly, she thought, on the monitor. It looked so unfamiliar blown up to this size. He adjusted the zoom and now she saw even more detail of the moist, pink skin nestling between her brown fur. Its translucent, fleshy folds and clefts. She tried to imagine the technician who would be poring over these images, measuring, analysing. Would it turn him on? Or would he retain a professional detachment? Maybe it would be a woman? Maybe it would turn her on? Or would she sit there comparing.. more puffy lips, redder flesh than mine, more open... Dr Kinnaman then took a series of shots, slightly adjusting position and zoom. Gently parting her lips, pulling slightly on her cleft to expose her clitoris. Finally, he seemed satisfied and he flipped the screen off and replaced the camera and lights to their parked positions.

'Great. We're all done. You may get dressed again now, Miss Turner.' He smiled broadly at her. 'I really am so grateful to you for agreeing to take part in our study. It's much appreciated.'

'Anything to help advance medical science,' she chirped from behind the screen as she got back into her clothes. She was relieved it was all over, but part of her had found the whole thing quite surprisingly enjoyable. It was certainly not the sort of thing she'd have ever imagined being turned on by, but in all honesty she had indeed been aroused by it all. Stepping out from behind the screen, finally dressed, Claire took Dr Kinnaman's offered hand and shook it.

'Thanks again, Miss Turner. Don't forget to get that prescription filled now.'

'I won't,' she said as she went to the door.

* * * * * *

That night, as she lay in bed, Claire went over the experience and found she could recall almost everything. Every sound, smell and sight. The one thing that did elude her though, was Dr Kinnaman's actual face. All she could conjour up was a vague, undifferentiated middle-aged, attractive man. As she went through all the things he had done and said, she felt a warm glow in her loins. That fluttering in her tummy and a fullness in her breast. Her hand wandered down under the covers, over her belly and into the soft curls. Lost in reverie, she started to stir the most cleft...

At much the same time, Dr Adam Kinnaman sat down at the table in his dining room, placed his cup of coffee beside him and flipped open his laptop to finish off some work. He opened the manuscript of his latest clinical report. It really should be submitted to the boss tomorrow, he thought. Better crack on with it. Then he remembered the USB drive. He reached into his pocket and retrieved the small sliver of plastic. Amazing how much these things could store nowadays, he thought. So compact. He inserted it into the port in the side of the laptop and in a few moments, a folder appeared showing 20 or so icons. TIFF files. So glad I took a copy of these, he thought, as he reached down to unzip himself.

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