In The Examination Room Ch 02

This is Chapter 2 in this series. For Chapter one, please visit: http://www.literotica.com/s/in-the-examination-room-ch-01

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"Ah, excellent, I see Dr. Rowan has started your enema," Dr. Slater states, studying my prone form.

I'm only about two minutes into my first enema, but already my bowels feel distended and full. I'm sweating and feeling totally exposed, as I kneel on the examination table, my naked ass in the air, the long plastic tube snaking between my cheeks.

"Perhaps, while we wait for the water to run its course, so to speak, I can ask you a few questions?" Dr. Slater picks up a clipboard from the counter with an immaculately manicured hand, and turns to face me. I managed to stammer out a reply.

"Y-y-yes. Sure. That's fine."

"Very good. Dr. Rowan is just setting up some equipment for me for the next part of the exam, so while he's doing that, we can chat." The skin around his blue eyes wrinkles as he smiles warmly at me over the clipboard. He props his lean body up against the counter. "I just need some information for your file. Now, it says here that you were referred to us by Rocco Calabrese... is that right?"

I nod. Rocco used to work as a bouncer for The Satin Lounge, the club where I used to dance. He was always really sweet to me, and took care of me when I had to leave work.

"Ah, yes. Rocco has referred a number of young ladies to me over the years. He has been a tremendous help to the Institute. He said that your name is Tallulah Adams. Is that your full legal name?"

I bite my lip. "Actually Tallulah is more of a stage name."

"So you're an actress?" Dr. Slater asks innocently.

"Um, no... actually. I was an exotic dancer," I admit. "No one has called me by my real name in years."

"So what is your legal name, my dear?"

"Mary. Mary Elizabeth Adams."

"I'll call you Mary, then, if that's okay," he says. "It's a very sweet name."

"My boss at The Satin Lounge said it reminded him of the Virgin Mary, that it would put off the customers."

"It suits you," he states as he writes my name on the clipboard. He smiles at me. "So you work at The Satin Lounge I gather?"

"I used to. I don't anymore."

"I see. So where are you currently employed?"

"Um... I'm not. I don't have a job at the moment." Sweat forms on my upper lip while I try not to concentrate on my clenching bowels as they slowly fill with the warm solution.

"I'll write 'currently unemployed'. And how old are you, Mary?"

"I just turned twenty-- two weeks ago."

"And the exact date of your birth?"

The cramping in my abdomen increases. I feel dizzy.

"Um, November 12. 1994."

"Excellent. Dr. Rowan was born on the 11th of November, weren't you, Dr. Rowan?" Dr. Slater says, referring to his younger colleague.

Dr. Rowan lifts his head from attaching some wires to the complex machinery and looks at me. "Yes, yes that's right," he says and smiles, "but before 1994, I can assure you."

I study his handsome face, the sandy brown hair that keeps falling in his grey eyes. The hard jaw, and curved lips. He couldn't be that much older than thirty, surely.

Suddenly, the cramping intensifies.

"Dr. Slater? I'm sorry, but how much longer...?" I beg. I'm overcome with the immediate need to expel the watery contents of my bowels.

Dr. Slater walks over to the rubber enema bag, hanging from the pole next to the examination table. "Shouldn't be too much longer, my dear. Try to relax." He massages my lower back gently. "Let's get you onto your side."

Dr. Rowan comes to the table and helps me to roll onto my side.

"Almost there," Dr. Slater says, compressing the bag, helping to empty the last of the solution down the tube and into my anus. My insides gurgle and cramp as my colon swells to accommodate the warm liquid. "There we go," he says, clamping the tube.

He snaps a fresh latex glove over his hand then inserts two fingers between my asscheeks. He begins to extract the tapered nozzle from my rectum.

"Lift your leg slightly," he instructs me, "That's a good girl... Now I want you to keep your bottom tightly closed for me, Mary. I'm going to slowly pull the nozzle out and I want you to hold the solution in, and don't let go as I do so."

I feel the lubricated nozzle slide slowly out of my clenching anus. I feel a small amount of liquid seep out of my asshole. I clench my bottom shut, willing the liquid to stay in a few seconds longer.

"Good, good my dear. All out."

I look around the room wondering where the door to the toilet is. Wherever it is, I'm praying I can make it in time.

Dr. Slater presses a gloved hand into my tummy, massaging and palpating my distended abdomen. I moan involuntarily. I feel like I'm about to explode.

"A few more moments, my dear. I'm just making sure the water is going nice and high. We want to make sure we clean you out good and properly the first time... Avoids a second time. Excellent." Dr. Slater removes his glove and walks to the clipboard, then makes a few notes. "Now, Mary there's a toilet behind that screen. You may go empty your bowels now."

I look at Dr. Rowan and Dr. Slater helplessly. They want me to go to the bathroom in front of them?

Dr. Rowan senses my panic, as he helps me off of the table. "We can leave the room to give you some privacy, if you would prefer--"

"No need to be embarrassed, my dear. We're doctors and this is a natural process for us." Dr. Slater assures me.

"That's right, Mary, no need to be embarrassed," Dr. Rowan echoes the older Doctor as he helps me walk to the privacy screen in the corner of the room.

"Thank you," I say as I make it to the screen. I'm wretchedly uncomfortable and at this point I care more about expelling the water from my bowels than any modesty I could have.

The toilet is more like a plastic chair with a hole in the seat, and a large bucket placed underneath. I feel my insides cramping and swirling and I don't have time to protest. I make it to the chair just in time and as soon as I sit over the bucket, my muscles gives way, the floodgates open and a torrent of warm liquid gushes out of my open asshole.

I'm sweating and moaning as I expel more and more of the warm solution than I thought possible. The acrid stench of fecal matter fills the air and I'm horribly ashamed. I wish I could hide but instead I sit on the pot helplessly, straining to empty the liquid from my exhausted bowels.

Finally, I hear Dr. Slater's voice over the screen.

"Mary," he says, "when you have finished, you will find a wet cloth on the counter to your left. Please clean yourself with the cloth and then place it in the can below the counter. Then you may put on the robe hanging on the peg and join us next door."

I hear the door to the exam room open and hear the two doctors exit. I exhale a sigh of relief and then push the remaining liquid out into the full bucket. When I finally am able to pull myself to standing, I clean my sore asshole with the wet cloth. I see the thin cotton robe hanging on a peg behind the screen and I slip it on. It fits perfectly.

I gingerly make my my way out of the exam room and tiptoe barefoot down the hallway until I see a door marked "Office". I knock on the heavy wood door.

"Come in," Dr. Slater calls out to me as Dr. Rowan holds the door open for me. "Have a seat right here." He gestures to a leather chair across from him, as he sits at his desk, a pile of notes and my open file in front of him. Dr. Rowan sits in the chair beside me.

"Now, my dear," Dr. Slater says pleasantly, turning his attention to me, "How are you feeling, Mary?"

"Alright, I suppose," I answer, "My insides feel a little gurgly."

"That's quite normal, especially for your first enema. The sensation will pass shortly. I need to ask you a few more questions, is that alright?"

"Yes, absolutely," I answer. Now that my intestines weren't cramping and filled with water, I felt a lot more calm about focusing on Dr. Slater's questions.

"Very good. Are your parents living?"

"No. No they died when I was seven. In an accident. My uncle was my legal guardian."

"I'm so sorry," he says sympathetically. "And is he still living? Your uncle?"

"I wouldn't know," I reply. "I haven't seen him in about four years."

"I see..." Dr. Slater scribbles some notes on a large legal pad. "Is there any particular reason for that, my dear?"

"He wasn't a good man," I say, my voice shaking a little. I don't like talking about my uncle. "He was mean to me."

"Did he hit you, Mary? Did he touch you?"

"He hurt me very badly," I say pointedly, not wanting to go into further detail. I can feel both men staring at me, studying my face. "I ran away when I was sixteen. I've been on my own ever since."

"Working at the Satin Lounge?" he asks. He has a kind sympathetic smile.

"Yes," I reply, a little ashamed.

"And why did you leave?" he asks.

"One of the bartenders tried to... he was always touching me inappropriately. I had to leave." I blurt out.

"You poor thing," Dr. Slater, leans forward in his seat. "And where are you currently living?"

"I'm sort of... in between places," I admit, ashamed, "When I left my job I couldn't make rent. I've been sleeping on my friend's couch trying to find work."

"I see. And did Rocco send you to us to help you out?"

"Yes," I say, "he said you might be able get me some work."

"That's very true, Mary. Rocco is right: we might very well be able to help you out." Dr. Slater smiles at me. I exhale a huge sigh of relief. "Do you know what kind of place this is, Mary?"

"The sign said 'Fertility Research Institute'... is that right?" I ask.

"Very good. Do you know what kind of work we do here?"

"No, sir," I shake my head.

"We study the science of human fertility: human conception, gestation, birth, and of course, sexuality. Now, we have one of the top laboratories and research facilities in the country and that is because we have a very unique approach to conducting research. Dr. Rowan and myself, we conduct, test and run all of our experiments here in this building. And we pride ourselves on having a very personal relationship with all of our research subjects."

"Oh." I reply. "I don't know that much about science, I'm afraid."

"That's alright, my dear, you don't have to," Dr. Slater replies warmly. "Now, Mary, from the tests we've conducted so far, you seem like an ideal candidate for what we are looking for."

"Really?" I say hopefully. My head swims at the prospect of being employed, being able to afford groceries and rent.

"Yes, you happen to be quite ideal. Now I am going to tell you what we are prepared to offer you, and what you must do in return, should you accept our offer. Does that sound alright?"

"Yes, absolutely," I reply happily.

"Mary, if you should accept our offer, we will house you here at our brownstone. You will have your own private room, of course, three meals a day prepared for you, and access to our library, fitness area and garden. All we ask in return is your participation in a new fertility experiment we are conducting. We think you would be the perfect candidate. This experiment would entail submitting your body to regular tests and experiments, and most importantly, insemination."

"Insemination?" I squeak. I'm pretty sure I know what that means but I need to make sure.

"Yes. The procedure of introducing semen into your womb during the fertile week of your cycle. The hope is that this insemination will result in pregnancy, which shall be carried to term."

"You want to get me pregnant? How? With who?" all of this is happening very quickly.

"Don't fear, we use only the most excellent sperm donors," Dr. Slater assures me, "Now should you become pregnant, we will care for you here in our state of the art facility, we will cover all medical costs for you and the baby, we will do all of the testing and deliver the baby when it's time, and what's more, for every week you are pregnant, we will pay you $10,000, with a $100,000 bonus upon delivery of a healthy baby."

"100,000???" I exclaim. This is all happening so quickly. Pregnancy? A baby?

"And $10,000 per week," Dr. Slater clarifies. "That means for a full-term baby, you could earn up to half a million dollars. You could afford to raise your child without worrying and you would be doing a great service to science."

Various thoughts swim in my head. On one hand, I never imagined myself having a baby at age twenty. I can't afford to feed and clothe myself, let alone a child. On the other hand, if I do agree to stay here and have a baby, I wouldn't have to worry about rent or food or working some terrible fast food job... I would never have to worry about money again.

"So you would take care of everything...?" I inquire. I have to make sure. Dr. Rowan smiles at me warmly. Something about his smile makes me feel I can trust him.

"Everything: we will house you, feed you, pay you, and take care of you like you were my own daughter." Dr. Slater assures me.

I've never been given a chance like this: an orphan at 7, victim of abuse by my only living relative, a runaway and a high school dropout by age 16, a stripper in a cheap club for four long years... no education, no health insurance, no savings account, no family to speak of... This could be the opportunity of a lifetime, the answer to all my prayers...

The handsome doctors look at me, expectantly.

"Okay, yes, I'll do it," I agree.

"Wonderful!" Dr. Slater exclaims, "We're thrilled to have you on board, Mary. We have much to do, and we'll get started right away, as soon as I have you sign some of the paperwork. Dr. Rowan, can you proceed with the set up? You have your instructions clear?" He asks the younger doctor cryptically.

"Yes, sir," Dr. Rowan answers and goes to the door.

"Oh, and after you have finished processing the sample, hook up electrodes 2 and 4, please." Dr. Rowan nods, smiles at me and exits the office, closing the door behind him.

"Now, Mary, I'll just have you sign here, and here, next to the x." Dr. Slater slides an official looking document in front of me and holds out a pen. "Please read it, before you sign it. I'll wait."

I scan the document. It's all legal mumbo-jumbo... English was my best subject in high school before I ran away but this doesn't even seem like English... "Entity affirms upon receipt of viable fetus..." "Subject agrees to withhold legal mitigation in the event of..." My head starts swimming. Dr. Slater must sense my confusion.

"The contract simply states everything that I just told you: that we will pay you and take care of you while you are under our supervision here at the Institute, and that you must comply with all of our instructions and regulations while under our care. It's a standard contract, I assure you." Dr. Slater smiles at me kindly.

I take the pen and sign my name: Mary Adams. I write the date: December 1. It's done.

"Wonderful," Dr. Slater says as he rises from his desk," Come with me now, back into the examination room. Dr. Rowan should be ready for our next bit of testing."

I follow him down the hallway again, I study the rich mahogany paneled walls... this place is going to be my home now. I can hardly believe it. He holds the door to the examination room open for me and then closes the door behind us. Dr. Rowan is fiddling with some wires attached to a large device that almost looks like a dentist's chair.

"Now, while Dr. Rowan is finishing up over there, I need to take some more vital statistics. Please hand me your robe, Mary." I take off my robe and stand naked in the harsh fluorescent lights.

"Come here please, and stand against the wall. That's a girl, stand up straight." He records my height: 5' 6".

"Now hop up on the scale, please: very good, 126 pounds." He takes a measuring band out of a drawer and measures around my hips. "40 inches... Excellent. Now your waist, dear... 28 inches. Your proportions are ideal for child-bearing, my dear. You have a perfectly shaped pelvis."

"...Thank you," I say. It's the strangest compliment I've ever received.

Dr. Slater stretches the tape around my breasts. "36 inches. Wonderful. It's thrilling to encounter such perfect natural breasts," Dr. Slater beams, "And a lucky thing for you, too. Some of the other girls Rocco sent to us had breast augmentation which, sadly, disqualified them from participating in our study." It's true: Tony, my boss at the Satin Lounge was always pressuring the girls to get bigger boobs. If he liked you enough, sometimes he offered to pay for them. I wondered how long I would have lasted there before caving in to his pressure...

"Now we're going to need to take a blood sample to do full genetic testing. Have a seat on the table." He pulls a fresh sheet of paper over the leather table and pats the surface.

I climb up and sit on the edge of the examination table. Dr. Slater brings over a tray with a rubber band, many vials, a needle, disinfectant and cotton guaze. He ties the band around my arm and finds my vein. I wince as he inserts the needle. I try not to watch as the red liquid filled the vials.

"That should do nicely," he says, withdrawing the needle from my arm. "Now press down firmly," he instructs me, holding a gauze pad to my arm and pushing down on it. I take over for him and he whisks the tray away. He comes back and peels the gauze away. The bleeding has stopped. "Ah, that's looking much better," he says, and covers the spot with a bandage. He throws away the gauze and then brings another larger vial to the table and a gauze pad, soaked in liquid.

"Now open your legs for me, Mary... that's a good girl." I scooch back on the table and perch my feet at the edge opening my thighs open to his gaze. He takes the wet gauze and wipes along the length of my pink gash. He is thorough as he swabs between the pink lips and all the way down to my asshole.

"I'm grateful you have gotten rid of the hair on your vulva, it saves us the time of having to shave you ourselves," he states. For some reason I'm both relieved but also slightly disappointed. As embarrassing as it is, I think a part of me would have enjoyed the doctor's strong gentle hands shaving my delicate nether lips...

"What is that?" I ask. I can feel the surface of my skin tingle slightly where the gauze has touched.

"Just disinfectant, my dear. We have to make sure the urine sample isn't contaminated in any way. Now please go behind the screen and fill this jar for us." He hands me a small container with "Adams, Mary" written on it. I hop off the table and go behind the screen again.

Much to my surprise the bucket where I emptied my enema is gone and a fresh bucket has been set in its place. I squat over the seat and part my pussy lips with my fingers, aiming the small container directly underneath the stream of piss. I fill the vial in no time, and let my remaining piss flow into the bucket, careful not to make a mess. I screw the top on the vial and then hand it to Dr. Slater.

"Wonderful, thank you. I think we're all set, aren't we, Dr. Rowan?" Dr. Slater asks his younger colleague.

"Yes, yes we are. You can have a seat here, Mary." I shiver when Dr. Rowan says my name. It's been years since anyone has called me by my given name and something about the way this handsome doctors says it warms my heart a little.

He holds out his hand and helps me into this vinyl cushioned chair, which looks like it's been tipped back into a reclining position. I lay back and he lifts each of my legs gently and places them into padded stirrups. He gently lifts my long black hair away from my neck with his fingers, and places my head against the cushion. In this position I am leaning back at a forty-five degree angle, my thighs splayed, my pussy totally open and exposed.