The Doctor's Surgery

"So I don't think there's anything more to do today." I said and stood, prompting Janet, the red headed, happily married, forty-something woman whose face was still flushed, dappled with tiny beads of sweat and smudged make-up and whose hair was considerably less ordered than when she'd arrived more than an hour ago, to do the same. "You can make another appointment whenever you feel necessary, Mrs Turner."

"Oh thank you so much, doctor, I do feel a lot better, you've taken a great weight off my mind."

I smiled as I opened the door but ignored as she deliberately stroked my forearm on her way out. I watched her considerable arse wobble as she made her way along the dull, grey carpet, her plump thighs making a rasping sound as they aggravated the stocking tops which must have been quite damp from her sweat and her own profuse ejaculation she'd erupted onto my couch, walls and floor not five minutes ago.

I sat down in my chair once again and checked my watch; fifteen minutes to freshen the room before the next client. Just enough time to make a tea and maybe grab a biscuit to stop the pangs I was feeling as the end of the day neared. I sprayed disinfectant around the space, pulled the now soaked paper cover from the examination couch and wiped clean the vinyl. I flicked through the app on my phone to see who my next booking was. Hmmm, someone I didn't recognise, a new client. Better make it as authentic as possible.

***********************************************

You see, I'm not a real doctor. My "surgery" is the last office at the end of a corridor of a small block of offices I bought some time ago. Originally a retail space, this part of town has changed from a vibrant community hub lined with local retailers selling daily essentials to a faceless street of chains and real estate agent's offices and my building has a chequered history of various dull, failed businesses - legal practices, insurance offices etc. The other "consultation rooms" my clients pass as they make their way to my 'surgery' are the same, nondescript, beige painted doors, you might find in any doctor's practice. They look authentic with room numbers and doctors names but they mostly contain overspill furniture and crap from my house. I chose to decorate the room at the end of the hall to add just a little more authenticity so clients can see what a busy surgery this is. The walls of my small room are as beige as outside, the carpet the same grey and experience has taught me this is precisely as it should be for a doctors surgery. A simple desk, a folding screen, three straight backed chairs, a cupboard, a sink, medical posters and doctors paraphernalia, a computer (old and also beige), swabs, tissues and just about everything you'd find in a real surgery. I even had a framed doctors certificate on the wall from the University of Cunterbury (sic), always wore my stethoscope (funny how people still expect that), and had been known to lightly tap knee and elbow joints with my small, black, disc shaped rubber hammer. Against the far wall stands an examination bed which tilts, shifts, folds and rotates in all manner of configurations at the press of a number of buttons. At one end stirrups can be fitted when necessary and a large lamp looms down from the ceiling.

About two years ago Beatrice, Bea, a friend and ex-colleague, confided in me about a fantasy she had about doctors. Serialised over some weeks, several long, alcohol induced conversations found her confessing in greater and greater detail about her fantasies and how she shared them with others on a specialist forum she had joined.

"So, how about it then?" She'd asked one evening half way through a very good bottle of rum.

"How about what?"

"Well, I don't want to have sex, it's just, you know, being examined that gets me off."

"I'm not following. Are you asking for my approval or opinion?"

"Fuck, Andy, neither. Jeez, you really are a dick sometimes. No, I mean how about you playing my doctor?"

It took several more weeks, several more bottles of rum and a lot more unravelling of the fantasy to agree but the experience was something of a revelation for us both. We remained true to her explicit fantasy, did not have sex and the experience bought us closer together in so many ways. She did, however, share her experience with her 'friends' on her specialist forum which led to demands from just about everyone about how they might also find such a no-strings-attached, sympathetic, enthusiastic, trustworthy, willing accomplice.

Three months later demand was so high and the income potential so great we formed a partnership, purchased and decorated the old building that is home to my 'surgery' and I'm now the provider of a very unique service while Bea takes care of admin and, well I suppose you would term it 'business development'.

For the most part, it has become somewhat routine; most merely want to reveal something of themselves, titillation, break a taboo. I can count on one hand the number of women I've actually had sex with and two of those we had to pretend it wasn't actually even happening, I just sort of had to 'slip inside' while groping, twisting, examining and testing. Most of my clients expose themselves to me, expect me to keep a professional attitude while they do so, maybe engage in some masturbation and then leave. To some this job might sound exciting but the truth is it is endless frustration, or it was at the start. Now, thankfully, we have a schedule that includes a client or two willing to allow some degree of relief for me in the middle of the day and we leave new clients to the end.

There are lines we draw, however. Obviously age is a factor, legality, of course and certain practices I didn't really anticipate needing to create a policy for when we began. Shit, for example. A month after setting up, still finding our feet so to speak, we didn't really vet clients. When an elderly lady presented a clear, plastic tube declaring it contained her stool sample I thought it an impressively realistic concoction of chocolate and various fibrous matter. It wasn't. Fortunately I didn't remove the lid as 5 minutes later she was telling me how she thought there was a problem with her bowel and perhaps the only real way for me to know was for her to squat over my face and examine as she evacuated herself. Six minutes after arriving she was back on the street with her turd-filled acrylic tube in hand, never to return.

My regulars include Victoria who comes for a monthly checkup. We do height, weight, general body exam moving from standing to laying on the bed and then finally she manoeuvres so her elbows and chest are on the couch, her arse in the air and my fingers, covered in non-latex examination gloves of course, push in and out of her shaved pussy and tight arse until she cums.

Kate, who visits at least three times a month, likes to look at my cock. She tells me her husbands is small but it's the only one she's ever had and would like another to compare. I stand and remove my clothing, she gets close to my cock, touches it, examines it and wanks me until I cum. Sometimes she just lets it spurt anywhere, once she pulled down her bra and directed me at her nipple and left having made no attempt to clean herself and the last couple of times she's held her pants down and directed my ejaculation onto her pussy so it drips and pools in the gusset of her knickers.

Fiona hides behind the screen, undresses, asks me to examine her breasts with my hands but not to look. I grope and squeeze her small, pointy breasts, all the while hmmm-ing and ahhh-ing, occasionally pinching her quite hard, pulling her nipples and cupping them up and down, letting them bounce in my hands. All the while I'm conducting my exam she masturbates. She has progressed from just her fingers to now bringing a small toy and where she used to whimper quietly the vibrations make her hiss through her teeth and groan the words, "faster, faster, faster," and "push it inside," just before she cums.

Donna is now heavily pregnant and comes to me for her prenatal check. As she opens her legs for me she apologises for being so hairy, tells me it's now too hard for her to shave herself and asks if I would do it. I shave her pussy clean and then finger her to orgasm. She likes a few minutes to recover, tells me how her husband hasn't touched her since her pregnancy and asks me to bring her off again, this time with my tongue. I oblige as only a good doctor should.

Ms Turner, who just left, likes me to caress and massage her fat thighs and belly with oil while she very nearly fists herself. I'm to push down on her belly as she nears orgasm and force two fingers into her arse. She always explodes with the most powerful orgasm, spraying huge amounts of fluid all over my office. We reach this point because she's worried about developing stretch marks and I have to rub oil in to her as a treatment.

Carrie tells me her husband wants to have anal sex with her but she thinks it's wrong. I have to tell her of the dangers but reassure her that, if they are careful it will be fine. She asks me if I can demonstrate and I start by showing her anatomical pictures, then a plastic model into which I insert my fingers to show that there's enough room to accommodate them. She protests that her anus is too small so I lube my finger, then two while she pretends she's not turned on. Finally she squeezes my dick through my pants, unzips me and guides me to her arse. As soon as I'm inside her she turns to filth, encouraging me in the most explicit of ways. She's progressed to bringing a small toy along which she presses to her clit while I fuck her arse. She always asks me to cum inside her and I have to admit, Carrie is a client I always look forward to seeing, she seems the most genuine.

Mrs Jones (yes, I know), has a strange illness that requires her to lay down, naked, in a still environment for 30 minutes twice a week. She finds this impossible so she has to come to a doctor to be 'drugged' (of course I don't), so she can lay still. While she is 'tranquillised' I take advantage of her; touching her, playing with her, licking her and rubbing against her. I cum on her body and then rub it in to her skin. She 'wakes' several minutes later, asks what it is that's made her sticky, I tell her I don't know, she dresses and leaves. Yesterday I managed to roll her onto her side, pull her arse cheeks apart and cum over her arsehole. I rubbed it into her arse and slipped a finger into her tight hole as I did and felt her flinch. As she dressed she told me it was the most relaxing experience yet.

Tammy has a urinary tract infection (she doesn't), which requires her to squat and piss into a large, deep plastic tray. As she pees I hold a thermometer in the stream to check the temperature, 'feel' the flow with my fingers, taste them, let her taste them, pull her lips wide apart as she forces it out and then I have to act outraged as she sits in the piss filled tray and masturbates. After repeatedly telling her how unprofessional it is she tells me if I don't like it I should show her my cock and she'll cum quicker and be done. As I show her she tells me to make myself hard then wank over her and she'll let me fuck her if I want. I have to protest some more, talk about code of ethics, that sort of stuff. Most of the time she reaches orgasm long before there's an opportunity for sex but she has sucked me a couple of times, swallowing my load and moaning. Tammy is probably my favourite client. She is truly filthy and gorgeous and actually quite good fun and of all my clients she's perhaps the only one I'm genuinely curious to know more about. She has told me that she's bi and a couple of months ago told me at the end of our session that she was worried she'd passed something on to her girlfriend and would I see them together? There's been no further mention of it but I'm hopeful she'll bring friend along one day, it would be interesting to see how it plays out.

There are a couple of darker clients too. Pea, I have no idea if that's even a name, like Victoria comes for a general check up, except unlike Victoria, Pea has a fairly explicit rape fantasy. She must have once been quite a large girl as her skin seems a few sizes too big for her body. She has deep stretch marks all over her belly, thighs, breasts and arse. At first I was quite shocked at how scarred she looked but as I've got to know her body I now find them quite beautiful. After the usual particulars Pea undresses for an exam and puts on a medical gown. At first there was just some resistance but she now trusts me enough to email me before every visit and describe what I should do. It's got to the stage now where she is quite physical and pushes me away when I get close to her. I am forced to gag her and tie her down and then spank her for resisting her doctor. I threaten to have her 'locked up' if she struggles. I then restrain her bent over the couch, cover her arse in lube, finger and fuck her roughly until I cum. This is by far my least favourite experience, Pea seems like a really lovely person and I wonder why she wants me to do these things. I once met her in the street with who I can only assume was a boyfriend. I felt so uncomfortable and she introduced me to him as her doctor. He shook my hand and told me Pea had always said what a great doctor I was. Something about the way he said it made me think he was well aware of the arrangement. She's asked me whether straight jackets are still used and I'm genuinely worried where it will go so I'm now meeting with her and Bea together outside of the surgery to talk things over. This is breaking protocol but the alternative is losing a client who might be perfectly happy.

Finally there's Alex. Alex is stunning, well travelled and intelligent, she's also my oldest client at fifty something she is elegant, wise, smart, funny and has the most beautiful body with curves and scars and lines and history and she's wonderful. Sadly, she doesn't think so and my task is to convince of how beautiful she is. Each visit she comes in with a different ailment or complaint. I listen and then proceed to examine her. This sometimes involves her removing some clothing but never too much. I then poke, squeeze and prod her and as I do I take my cock from out of my pants and wipe it over her soft skin without her knowing. As I grow hard she realises what I'm doing, asks shocked and appalled and I have to apologise profusely, explain that I couldn't help myself, that I find her so attractive I had to do it. I tell her I'm taking a huge risk, that I could be struck off and beg her not to report me. I have to keep telling her why I would take such a risk, that I wouldn't do it for anyone else and that I'm so ashamed. I break down and she comforts me, tells me she doesn't mind, that she can keep it a secret. I have to promise not to share it but I beg her to let me film her. I take out my video camera and film as she undresses. Once naked I undress myself and caress her body as she wanks me. She takes a copy of the video home.

***********************************************

Returning to the present I flipped through the notes Bea had prepared but there was little beyond a physical description, not unusual for first time clients who often don't quite know what it is they want or are simply too embarrassed to ask.

I splashed hot water into a mug, dropped in a fresh teabag and bobbed it up and down as the water swirled, growing ever darker. I checked the clock, three minutes to go, hope she's late. I poured the milk too quickly and it splashed around the sink and I barely had time to gulp a mouthful before the entry system on the outside door buzzed and I pressed the intercom in response. A brief exchange of coded words assured the authenticity of the visitor and I abandoned my tea, straightened my jacket and checked it for tea splashes before taking a seat.

"Come in." I rose almost before the foam had had a chance to contour to my behind. "Have a seat, miss...?"

"Sharp, but my name is Andrea."

Andrea settled into the green vinyl chair, clutching her bag in her lap and looking nervously around the room.

"Okay Andrea, what is it that I can do for you today?"

Andrea seemed younger than my usual clients. Mostly they ranged from mid thirties to near sixty, an age I'd decided to cap it to even before the first notion of this began. I'd also ensured that all clients were able to provide proof of age and had a minimum policy of 25, though I don't recall anyone younger than 29. Andrea looked to be close to the age limit and I punched the keys on the computer to bring up Bea's background info and verification. Hmm, well, what do you know, 26.

"It's a bit embarrassing." She began.

My mind flipped again. If only I'd added the 'It's a bit embarrassing' as a premium charge for each client I could have retired months ago!

"Go on." I said in my most objective, interested-but-only-professionally-so tone.

"Well, there are a couple of things."

"I am a doctor, Andrea, if you're uncomfortable speaking to me I can ask a female colleague to see you." I couldn't of course, I just felt it was a doctorly thing to say.

"Well, it's my clitoris. It's, erm. Well, it's really big."

Now this might be interesting. This was certainly new. Andrea had certainly made an effort to look as plain as possible, just like a regular patient with a massive clit going to the doctor might look. She wore tight blue jeans, a pair of worn, red converse boots, a white, ribbed vest top and blue hoody zipped to just above her navel. She had jet black hair, slightly cracked lips and stunning brown eyes, edged with her only make up; thick, black lines giving her a goth like appearance without the dour clothing. It was difficult to discern her figure save for the large behind, broad hips and plump thighs and I suspected her hoody hid a plump, round belly and a small pair of pert breasts.

"Okay, what makes you think there's a problem?"

"Well, some men comment on it. Some girls too. Whenever I've had sex they always say something."

"And that bothers you?"

"A little."

"Well Andrea, there is, as far as medicine is concerned, no difference between large or small clitorises." I paused. "Or clitori? Clitories? I'm not sure which it is. Anyhow, unless there is a problem for you physically or it's affecting your mental wellbeing it's difficult to know how I might proceed."

"There is one thing though."

"Oh yes, what is that?"

"Well, it's my smell."

"Your smell? Could you explain?"

"I sometimes smell really strong, like I can smell myself right now, can you?" I shook my head which she seemed to ignore. "And I was wondering if this might be linked to my clit? Sorry, clitoris."

"No, that's fine. Erm, I don't see how your, er, clit, could be contributing to any aroma. Providing you are keeping good hygiene?"

"Yes, I wash every day, it just seems strong. Are you sure you can't smell me?"

"Not at all. Do you have any discomfort? Any discharge? Any inflammation?"

"Only my clit."

"Which is it?"

"Huh?"

"Your clit. Is it inflamed? Discomfort?..."

"Oh no, sorry, silly me, none of those, I mean it's just my huge clit that's the problem."

"Okay, and does your clit grow larger as you become sexually aroused?"

"Oh, god, yes. One boyfriend thought I was a man when he saw it. He soon thought otherwise though when I ... never mind."

"So, would you say it is of regular size when you are not aroused?"

"No, I still think it's big, it just gets bigger when, you know?"

"When you're aroused?"

"Yes."

"Well, Andrea, what you're describing to me all sounds perfectly normal. You know, you may like to know that there are likely a great many women who might enjoy having a clitoris larger than the one they have and I'm sure you'll find a partner who'll appreciate it too."