Michelle looked over the advertisement closely; it was for a vacation in Europe. The pictures showed happy tourists in a beer hall laughing, singing and drinking. She had never been overseas, but the picture somehow appealed to her. The camaraderie of the people in the photo was evident, an all-for-one one-for-all kind of community that seemed lacking in the states.
She looked up at the other women in the waiting room. They seemed distant. Content, even happy, but distant. There was no idle chatter, only polite smiles when eyes met. She began wondering what this OB/GYN would be like; her last had been a nightmare. She was only 23 years old; he was much older. It was not so much his age, however, as his eyes. His eyes still invaded her thoughts. She felt dirty when he looked at her. She could not stand the feeling when she was spread open for him, knowing he was looking at her most private place. She was thoroughly convinced he was a sex maniac, and her increasing discomfort had led her on a quest for a new doctor.
She ended up here on the advice of an acquaintance. She was in fact very lucky to have secured an appointment, which came about only after a last-minute cancellation. The waiting room itself was a cut above the others in which she had been, probably the most relaxing one in which she had ever waited. Her normal dread towards doctorโs examinations was non-existent today. She was so at ease. She smiled to herself, thinking that even the magazines were current, although they did seem oriented towards the europhile. She concluded that the doctor must have a large practice; women would be taken into two different doors. She did notice, too, that all the women were striking in one way or another, and mostly her age give or take five years. She was considering possible explanations for this when she heard the nurse call for her.
The nurse was an older woman, very strict-looking with her hair in a bun, but pleasant enough. She led Michelle through the door next to the reception area, past several small rooms on to the one at the end of the hall. She directed Michelle to disrobe and to put on the gown she supplied, then to take a seat on the examination table and wait for the doctor. The table was already folded into its chair-like form, the stirrups on the end facing her. As she undressed she wondered if she should go ahead and put her feet in the stirrups or wait for the doctor to tell her.
Adjusting the loose-fitting gown as best she could she climbed onto the table, and let her feet hang over the edge between the stirrups. She noticed the music playing over a speaker, though she could not tell exactly from where it was coming. Very calming music, possibly one of those nature tapes she thought to herself. A few minutes passed and she decided to put her feet in the stirrups; obviously the doctor was a busy man and she would want to make a good impression on him. As she sat there, her legs spread open, the exposed feeling set her mind to wandering. Men paid women good money to see what she was going to pay the doctor to look at. She gave herself a wry smile, imagining what it would be like to be one of those women, a fantasy far removed from her own prim persona.
Just as her imaginary patron was going to tip her the door opened and in walked the doctor. She blushed slightly, even though he could not know what she was thinking. His disarming smile put her at ease though, and his professional manner let her begin to hope she had found her new doctor. He made small talk as he examined her, but she could not keep her attention focused. The music seemed to be getting more intrusive, and the doctor seemed to be speaking more quietly. It wasnโt long before he apparently stopped talking altogether. Her eyes were closed, though she did not remember closing them, and her thoughts seemed filled by strange cold, metallic images. The metallic images were later joined by a voice, calling to her.