Jasmines Special Treatment

The introduction of this story is inspired by an unfinished story which was previously published on Literotica, "Amber's Exam Ch. 01" by skyeomalley. That author deleted their stories and account some time before I started writing my story. If they wish for me to alter or remove this story, please contact me and I will. This is my own original story, written completely by me, with original characters, themes, and series of events.

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Jasmine was nervous even just pulling into the parking lot of the medical complex. She fidgeted anxiously with the ends of her dark brown hair as she walked inside and approached the reception desk. She felt her nerves increase as she saw a number of people already in the waiting room. She hoped she could manage to stay as discreet and unnoticed as possible, considering the reason for her visit.

As she approached the check-in desk, she saw an older man in a buttoned shirt, preoccupied by his computer. She had hoped it would be a woman checking her in. She already felt the familiar burn of embarrassment welling in her stomach, and her heartbeat quickened.

"Umm, hi. I'm here for, umm-" Jasmine murmured as she hurriedly took the final few steps toward the check-in desk.

"So sorry, how can I hel-" the receptionist started to say, without looking up. He had just clicked to send an email when his entire monitor jerked forward, the webcam attachment mounted on top tumbling down and directly into his fresh cup of coffee with a splash and clink.

The man hardly noticed the mess on his desk, as he was fully transfixed by the cause of the disturbance. His eyes went wide. Directly at eye level were a jaw-dropping pair of breasts. They were bigger than any he had witnessed in his 20 years of employment at the hospital, or in his entire life, at that. And despite the evident weight of the breasts heaving off the young woman's front, they projected straight out proudly. The swell of her chest jutted out so far, in fact, that in her haste to reach the check-in desk, her breasts had reached fully across the desk, and collided with the receptionist's monitor.

Jasmine let out a yelp and jumped back in surprise. She nearly stumbled forward again from the weight of her front, steadying herself somewhat clumsily. She was immediately embarrassed to find all attention drawn to the scene she was causing, glancing around to see everyone in the lobby staring at her intently.

She had misjudged the dimensions of her own bust. She knew it stood out in front of her obscenely. It was just so hard having to always be careful of her own body! For the millionth time, she found herself quietly cursing her massive boobs.

Her sudden jump back had set her breasts bouncing. Her boobs jiggled practically every time she moved. They acted like this even with Jasmine having stuffed them into a bra, shirt, and high-neck sweater today. Her wardrobe was an attempt to conceal her figure and preserve her dignity, but so far she was failing on both points.

The sweater she had chosen covered her up, but it was too tight. The stretchy fabric of the sweater hugged and highlighted her curves. It comfortably fit around her slim midsection. Around her chest however, the fabric was notably strained, the overtaxed weave showing glimpses of the dark blouse beneath. Her overdeveloped boobs were stretching the sweater to its limit and distorting its floral design.

Her startled jump had also caused her enormous boobs to shift in her bra cups, and one of her nipples had slipped above the bra's coverage. The man at the reception desk immediately took notice of the thick nub clearly poking in his direction through her sweater. From what he could tell it was quite large, but on the young woman's massive breast, it looked perfectly proportioned. Jasmine quickly pulled her bra back into place through her sweater. She hoped it hadn't been obvious.

Over the past few years, Jasmine's boobs had become the bane of her existence. Since her body had developed into womanhood, she always had larger breasts than all of her peers. By the time she graduated high school, she was bustier than anyone in her hometown. She had expected the growth to stop then, or at least slow down, but that had not been the case. Through multiple years at college, her breasts had only continued to expand, slowly at times but with rapid growth spurts every so often. She was 21 now, nearly graduated, and her breast growth showed no sign of stopping any time soon.

In the beginning, Jasmine had been excited about her body's development, but as it continued on and her boobs went from big to huge, the downsides became more apparent. For one, she was forced to shop for larger bras every few months. As her cup size increased, the bras she needed became more expensive and harder to find. The bigger her boobs got, the more attention they drew, and the more trouble they seemed to cause her. They were always bumping into things, bursting buttons off her clothes, and causing her to stick out in any crowd. They were like magnets for people's eyes.

By now, her boobs had gone from huge to massive, and she was getting concerned. She had tried anything she could think of to counteract her growth: diet and exercise, shady supplements, even praying to a few gods. She just could never manage to lose size in her chest, she could only watch helplessly as it grew bigger, heavier, more buxom. If things went on indefinitely, she didn't know what she would do.

That's why Jasmine had finally decided to seek help and schedule an appointment today with a new breast specialist. She hadn't seen any sort of doctor recently. The last one was a college campus doctor who she went to for breast soreness in her freshman year. The doctor had asked her a million questions, taken extensive measurements of her tender boobs, then prescribed her some Ibuprofen. The visit had proved useless and discouraged her from returning. She hoped today would be different, maybe give her some hope. But she had only made it as far as the lobby yet, and things were already going sideways.

"Oh God! Umm, I'm sorry about that, uhh-," sputtered Jasmine, looking down at the drops of coffee splattered on the receptionist's desk. The man was still oblivious, as his attention was glued to the display of feminine sexuality in front of him. The young woman looked down at the bulge of her breasts in front of her. "I didn't realize they were- I mean, that's why I'm here actually..." she said nervously. The embarrassment she felt in her stomach kicked up a notch, and she couldn't help but notice as the butterfly sensation spread from her gut to her loin. The vulnerability and exposure she was feeling from the receptionist's ogling was causing an involuntary reaction in her body. She cursed her breasts again, this time specifically her nipples, which were now starting to stiffen and grow.

"Ugh, no! Please no. Not now!"

she thought to herself desperately.

Jasmine's body always seemed to respond to the attention it attracted, against her will. She couldn't help that it made her feel hot and excited to have her physical form appreciated. She liked feeling wanted, feeling attractive, even if she was being objectified. As her body had become more womanly and drawn more attention, she had found she couldn't help but experience an intense arousal from the thought of being lusted after. She craved the twisted thrill it gave her, the dark rush she felt when someone refused to take their eyes off her. When someone openly stared at her, spoke crudely about her, or even tried to touch her body, it satisfied an intense sexual hunger in her. But Jasmine could never fully accept her reaction to being sexualized like this. She was ashamed to feel any sort of pleasure from the attention she attracted and would always try to push it down. She thought of herself as a respectable woman.

She had hoped not to have this kind of reaction before such an important appointment. After the uproar she caused at the check-in desk, the receptionist was understandably still speechless and gawking. Jasmine helplessly felt her libido roaring into action, like a train with no brakes.

She was stuck speechless, her mind clouded with arousal and anxiety. She could feel her cheeks glowing with blush. She knew she had to say something, but she just couldn't think, as she tried hard to focus on something other than her enormous boobs being studied by the man in front of her.

Finally, the man reluctantly drew his eyes up to look at Jasmine's face. The young woman was strikingly pretty. She had smooth, caramel-colored skin. The lines of her jaw and cheekbones were well-defined. Her cute little nose had a stud piercing on one side. Cascading wavy dark hair framed her face. Her big, hazel eyes looked wet and doe-like, her long eyelashes fluttering as she blinked in surprise. Her plump lips were slightly parted in a dumbfounded look like she had no clue what to say next.

The receptionist felt his own roar of lust as his pants tented under the desk. He tried to sound kindly when he spoke, but it came off sleazy.

"Well, ahem. I'd be more than happy to take care of you today. What's your name, doll?" The obvious hunger in his eyes made Jasmine feel a bit of wetness start to form between her thighs. She felt flustered. Taking a breath, she resolved to push past her unexpected flare of arousal and put it behind her, so she could focus on her appointment.

"My name is Jasmine, Jasmine Ortiz," she said. As she was finally able to formulate a full sentence, she felt a little relief and relaxed her body.

Her sense of ease was short-lived, as the receptionist quickly typed her name into the computer, and subsequently licked his lips.

"Oh, I see, so you're the one. Jasmine Ortiz, primary complaint is hyperactive breast growth, so we have you scheduled with our expert gynecologist, with a specialization in breast conditions," said the receptionist at an elevated volume, looking back at her chest with a smirk. Jasmine felt a flutter in her stomach and a tickle in her pussy at the loud announcement.

"Yes, we're the top facility in the region if you need your breasts, er, looked at," the receptionist continued. "Seems like you've got quite the pair there! And you've scheduled yourself through the teaching program, eh? More power to ya, I'm sure they'll make great use of you!" he laughed, humored by something the young woman didn't understand.

Jasmine squirmed at the crass comments. "Yes! Um, yes, I mean, I was saying. I have concerns about my br- breasts," she said meekly. She cast her eyes down again and her hands self-consciously reached up to rest on the furthest points of her chest, where her nipples were trying to push through her clothes. "I had heard your hospital offered a discounted option, is that what you mean? That's why I'm here, I don't have insurance," she said in a hushed tone, hoping the receptionist would match her. As if her condition weren't a source of embarrassment enough, Jasmine was admittedly jobless at the moment and living with her parents, whose insurance plans did not extend to her. And she was far too embarrassed to ask her parents for help with anything boob related.

With little regard for Jasmine's medical privacy or modesty, the receptionist continued loudly.

"I see. Well, you're in luck because this is a leading teaching hospital. It serves our hospital to have real patients like you volunteer for the education program for young resident doctors. We're able to offer you top-quality care with our experts, so long as you agree to every one of the conditions for the program," the receptionist said, leering over at Jasmine and raising his eyebrows suggestively.

She knew most of this already from the ad she had seen for the discounted women's health clinic. She figured she would see her doctor and there might be a student in the exam room observing. She was nervous to have two people viewing her intimate parts at the same time, but she had little choice, given her finances.

The receptionist started stacking forms onto a clipboard, as he spoke to Jasmine. "I'm sure you understand, being scheduled to participate in the teaching program, you'll need to sign our contract to receive this care at no cost." The receptionist passed Jasmine the loaded clipboard and looked at her impatiently. "It's really quite standard. Please sign so we can get you started."

Jasmine began skimming the documents, full of medical and legal jargon which very quickly confused her. She started feeling more anxious. She could feel the receptionist's eyes burning into her, specifically her chest. Suddenly he spoke up.

"We do run a tight schedule here, doll. I need that signature to get you started now, or else we might need to reschedule and you would lose your spot in the teaching program."

Jasmine buckled under the pressure. She was sure everything at a big hospital like this was above board, right? And how else would she be able to see a breast specialist like this? She really needed answers. She had come too far now to be deterred, she decided. She quickly flipped to the final page and signed the binding contract.

The receptionist looked absolutely gleeful as he took the forms back from Jasmine, which puzzled her. She quickly started to wonder if she had made a mistake. Had she just been hustled into signing too carelessly? What had she just agreed to, exactly? A mounting sense of risk caused another wet trickle in her panties.

"I mean, it's just a standard appointment, right? And, like, there's just a student with us or something? " she asked apprehensively.

The receptionist did not answer her questions. He seemed to be lost in a daydream, picturing something. He started speaking to himself under his breath. "This will be great! I mean I can't believe they got someone like this to participate in the program! And with my system access..." The man seemed to snap back to attention as he noticed Jasmine's worried expression, so he said to her, "Oh doll, don't worry about a thing. Our doctor is the best, you'll be totally taken care of."

Suddenly the man took on an expression of seriousness. "Now I need to make sure you're aware that the exam you've signed up for is with an expert physician, and the care you'll receive is cutting-edge. In exchange for seeing our best and brightest doctor, your exam is going to be used for educational purposes as well. And since the hospital has invested so much into this already, we thank you so much for agreeing to all the conditions and penalties in the contract."

Jasmine blinked. "Penalties? I didn't see that, what penalties are there?" she asked with alarm.

"Well, it's all stated clearly in the contract, doll," scoffed the receptionist, "But don't worry. As long as you go with the program, the whole thing is free. It's only if you back out part-way through that we charge you the full $5000."

"$5000?" Jasmine cried. "That's outrageous! I couldn't possibly afford that..."

The receptionist shrugged. "It's a thorough exam, and the doctor you'll be meeting is top of their field. It's well worth it. But either way, you've already signed. I suppose you should have thought it through first, but we're already beyond the point of no return," he said smugly, tucking Jasmine's signed forms into a cabinet.

"Oh God..." she said softly, as the gravity of what she had done sank in. Her desperation, and arousal, had clouded her judgment and now she was starting to really worry. "Well, how bad can it be, right? And I get to meet an expert? I mean, I really do need help with my damn breas-" she reasoned out loud, catching her train of thought at the last moment.

"Doll, I think you out of anyone have nothing to be ashamed of! This is going to be perfect!" said the receptionist excitedly. Jasmine was puzzled at what the receptionist was referring to, that she would be so "perfect" for. She started to fidget with her hair again out of nerves.

The receptionist reached for an intercom device on his desk, flipped a switch, and began speaking into it. His voice was amplified through multiple speakers placed in the waiting room and down all the side hallways.

"Nurse Lucy, please come to reception. Jasmine Ortiz with the overgrown breasts has presented for her exam," the intercom system declared for the whole hospital to hear. Jasmine startled, setting her boobs wobbling softly in her tight sweater again. As she processed what she was hearing over the speaker system, she didn't dare look to see the reactions of the other patients behind her. A shiver ran over her, seeming to travel from her heart toward her nipples and vagina.

This was not a promising start to her visit if she was going to make it through the appointment without incident and get the answers she hoped for. She suddenly registered that she had begun lightly stroking her breasts as an anxious tick when she felt her fingers touch the bumps of her nipples, now so stiff they were sticking obviously through her clothing layers. She quickly dropped her hands and tried to turn her body, but the receptionist had seen her clearly.

"Do hurry, nurse" the man boomed over the intercom, "the patient looks eager to go!" he said with a toothy grin shot at the young woman.

Jasmine gasped, and hugged her arms around her bust, trying to conceal her body's announcement that something about all this was exciting her. Could the receptionist tell she was getting horny from the spectacle she had so far put on for the waiting room? As she turned fully and moved to find a seat, she was faced with a scattering of patients all blatantly staring at her. A young man wearing a medical mask that concealed his lower face, but not his eyes, which were laser-focused on Jasmine. An elderly woman wearing an arm sling who glared scornfully toward her. A middle-aged woman with her young daughter, probably five years old. The mother was doing her best pretending to look at her cell phone, but her side-eye betrayed where her attention was truly directed. The daughter was not so discreet.

"Mommy, look!" shouted the girl, pointing her whole arm at Jasmine from across the waiting room. "When I grow up, can my boobies ever get that giant?"

Jasmine whimpered audibly at this new humiliation, hunching her shoulders in mortified embarrassment and hugging her chest tighter, both arms together failing to cover the breast flesh spilling from over the top and bottom of her hold. She hurried to the far corner of the waiting room and tried to make herself small. The mother hushed her daughter. Jasmine overheard the old woman mutter under her breath, "Shameful little hussy..." as she shook her head. She was too embarrassed to say anything to defend herself. But she hadn't done anything wrong! Why was she labeled a hussy just for existing with big boobs? It's not like she could help it.

The extreme level of unsolicited attention and sexualization made her burn with embarrassment. And, shamefully, it was turning her on hard now. In her seated position, she could feel the dampness that had started to permeate her panties. "

Ugh, come on Jaz, in the clinic waiting room? Pull yourself together,"

she scolded herself.

She had no more time to berate herself, as a woman in scrubs appeared from the side hallway, and called her name. Jasmine stood from her seat in the corner, and the woman's attention focused on her. This must be the nurse they had called for.

She was a woman of about 30. She had blonde hair pulled into a functional bun, with a few strands loose around her bright face. Her facial features were elegant, and her simple makeup accentuated her looks. She was just taller than Jasmine, and she looked quite fit. Jasmine couldn't help but notice that the nurse's breasts were larger than average as well. Nowhere near the size of her own, but still, she hoped a fellow big-boobed woman might have more sympathy for her condition.