The Shy Patient

Part 1

Dr. Wilson, Bill to his friends, was filling in for the vacationing Dr. Carlson. It was a general practice and all went well and uneventfully. That is, until the mousy little woman came in for her checkup. She was a quiet little thing with curly brown hair. A bit on the plump side, but not bad. She seemed to be painfully shy though and absolutely refused to look him in the eyes as he asked her the preliminary questions. If she could get away with it she would simply nod, her eyes firmly focused on her loose sandals. Her name he saw, was Gretchen.

He finally gave up trying to get any other information from her and handed her the pink gown. “Go behind the screen please and put this on. You can leave your underwear on for the moment if you like.” He watched with amusement as her face turned beet red. She quickly snatched the gown and scurried behind the screen. Gretchen returned just as quietly and red faced.

“Why don’t you have a seat on the table,” Dr. Wilson instructed, “and we’ll get started.” Gretchen climbed up, making sure to hold the back of the gown tightly closed. She sat and quickly pulled the end of the gown as far as possible, trying to hide as much of her as she could.

Everything was going fine until Dr. Wilson told her to lay back and he began to pull the front of the exam gown down to begin the breast exam. It had begun almost inaudibly, but the moaning noise increased in volume as he gently cupped his hand on first one breast then the other, palpating them, feeling for lumps. When he began to prod and pinch her nipples her moaning increased to such an extent that he began to get worried. He noticed that all the chatter he had been able to hear coming from the other side of the door had ceased.

“Just relax Gretchen, I’m not going to hurt you,” he pleaded with her and removed his hands. Her moaning only decreased in volume after a strange shudder overtook her prone body. He had never witnessed a patient climax so quickly and noisily. “Well, that should keep her calm for a while,” he thought to himself. He heard the familiar office chatter begin again from somewhere behind the door. “I’d like you to roll over on your stomach,” he said and reached for a thermometer and began to shake it down. He had thought Gretchen would protest, but he was pleased to see her simply turn a brighter shade of red and quietly turn over.

He gently spread the gown apart and began to pull her panties down. Her moaning began again as he reached under the waistband and began to tug the white cotton undergarment down. It grew to an almost ear shattering volume as he tried to gently spread her plump cheeks apart. All office chatter came to a halt once again. When he finally had her globes apart and tried to insert the glass rod down and in she once again began to shake in pleasure. He closed one eye and stabbed with the thermometer, luckily his aim was good and he struck pay dirt on his first attempt. Gretchen continued to moan at high volume and shudder until Dr. Wilson finally was able to extract it and note the reading.

Beads of sweat were building on his forehead. He was a stranger in this office, here only to help out while the other doctor was away. He imagined the nurses in the back room looking at each other with wide eyes, whispering and glancing at the closed exam room door, trying to decide if they should call the police. He dared not try and pull her panties back up over her dimpled buttocks. “Gretchen, I’m going to do your pelvic now, turn over and slide down to the end of the table, oh and remove your panties please.” He placed each ankle in the stirrups and gulped.

As Dr. Wilson began to lightly spread Gretchen’s plump little vagina lips, the now familiar moaning began anew. As he slid his gloved finger into the moist enclosure, his patient gripped the edge of the table tightly, began to shake and groan. He was nearly decapitated as her right foot swung up only centimeters from his left ear and watched in awe as her sandal flew off and landed with a loud clatter on the other side of the room, knocking over several bottles. Dr. Wilson almost fell over as he scooted back and ducked his head waiting for the re-bound. He could hear the sound of several ears as they began to press themselves against the other side of the exam door. He picked up a towelette and began to wipe the sweat that was now beginning to drip down on each side of his face.

He stood and looked down in astonishment at this mousy little woman. He wished his ex-girl friend had shown as much enthusiasm for his “technique” when they had been dating. They’d still be together, probably married. “Now Gretchen, I’m going to do a quick rectal exam now and I would really appreciate it if you would try to remain calm and still.” He waited hopefully for some kind of response, but she was breathing so heavily by now that he doubted she could talk even if she had wanted.

He carefully slid between her legs with a new pair of exam gloves and lubricated his right index finger with k-y jelly. He reached for his tie with his left and loosened it. He took a deep breath and plunged his finger into her rectum. She gave a mighty roar and shuddered. He glanced to his right just in time to see her left foot swing up, tossing the remaining sandal up and away, it landed uncannily close to it’s mate. He whipped his stool back and came to a halt as he crashed against the far wall.

“Well Gretchen, all finished now, that wasn’t so bad was it?” He stripped off the gloves. He felt a little guilty as he handed the disposable enema kit to her when she returned from behind the screen, now fully dressed, her eyes once again focused on her now retrieved sandals. He had noticed that her plump, dimpled bottom was in need of a good clean out, but he just couldn’t risk it. He told her to schedule a follow-up appointment in two weeks. The regular doctor would be back from his vacation by then and he would be safely away in a new office. That night his jaw dropped when he heard the message on his answering machine: …Dr. Carlson had broken his leg while skiing, Dr. Wilson would have continue seeing his patients for the next two months…

Part 2

Two weeks later Dr. Wilson gulped down some aspirin and waited nervously for Gretchen’s arrival. When he stepped into the exam room, she was standing just as silently as she had on her last visit. Her eyes downcast, her attention focused on her sandals. He decided to take no chances today. “Please take everything off Gretchen…including your shoewear,” he instructed her and held out the gown. Like before, she turned red, snatched the gown from his hand and scurried behind the screen, reappearing several minutes later, holding it tightly around her.

“I think this time it would be better if you simply step up on this footstool and bend over the end of the exam table,” he gently instructed her, wanting no repeat of her flailing feet. He almost reached out to help her up, but drew back, remembering her acute sensitivity to his touch. When she was finally arranged neatly bent over the table he pulled on some exam gloves, letting them snap into place. She started to breathe heavily at the sound, he noticed. “Well Gretchen, shall we begin?” he asked pleasantly and spread the back of the gown. She began to moan almost immediately as he bared her round bottom. And just as before she began to shake and shudder as he pried her cheeks apart. She was practically vibrating as he pushed his large finger past her tight little anus and deeply into her rectum, swishing it around in all directions. She continued to vibrate until he finally pulled out.

“Gretchen, did you use that enema kit I gave you on your last appointment?” he queried. Gretchen shook her head into the sheet on the exam table, he didn’t bother asking her why not, he knew she would never tell him. “Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you one right now,” he stated and stripped off the gloves. He noticed that she shuddered and moaned at the mere mention of the word enema. He took careful note of her position and finally decided that she would be least dangerous as she was. He began to assemble the bag, hose and nozzle, filling it with warm water and Castile soap. He hung it on a stand and rolled it over to the table. He greased the nozzle liberally, hoping the easier it slid in, the less “exuberant” and “vocal” her reaction would be. Unfortunately, he failed to take into account that it would slide out a lot easier also.

He slid the greasy nozzle in, she moaned and shuddered. “Just let me know if you get some cramps and I’ll stop for a few minutes.” Gretchen lay silent, quivering slightly. He released the clamp on the hose and watched it stiffen as the water began its descent. He listened to the now familiar wail as Gretchen felt the warm flow begin to enter her. He watched in amazement as she began to vibrate once again, he swore later that the table actually moved several millimeters. But his respect for her grew as she took the entire 2 quarts without complaining. He smiled to himself and clamped the hose, thinking the worst was over. “Gretchen, I want you to hold it in for a few minutes,” he turned and began to write something down in her chart.

Several minutes later Gretchen, feeling the effects of the enema working inside her, began to moan and shudder. Dr. Wilson, forgetting who he was talking to, called out over his shoulder, “You’re just experiencing some cramps, they’ll pass.” He turned back to her prone body only when she began to wail like a banshee. But he was too late. Gretchen, overcome with delight, began to orgasm to such an extent, that the little greased nozzle shot out of her round bottom like a bullet. A brown fountain following closely behind. “Oh my God!” Dr. Wilson exclaimed and quickly grabbed the nearest garbage can. He had to hold it high, then lower it in stages as the pressure of the fountain decreased.

When she was both empty and calm, he placed the garbage can in the corner for later emptying. She departed as quietly as she had entered. That night, as he relaxed in his easy chair sipping a beer something began to nag at his mind…he had a feeling he had forgotten to do something. “Oh well, it’ll come to me later,” he thought, and turned on the football game.

The night janitor promptly quit the next day.