Proctologist's work

... I see you entering my proctologist's office, embarrassed and blushing, because another doctor has already scheduled you for my examination, and you've walked a long way down the corridor from one office to another, tormented by doubts. What if there's an unpleasant, rude old man, or a fat lady? But, opening the door, you see a friendly middle-aged man, smiling welcomingly towards you and rising from behind the desk where he was writing something.

He was wearing a white coat, gleaming with cleanliness; around his neck, as is customary for medical professionals, a stethoscope. Tall, with lively gray eyes, he inspired trust and calm.

Locking the door, I ask

you to undress. Glancing around the office, you notice various instruments and devices on the table and in the glass cabinets — rubber tubes and bulbs, plastic vessels and nozzles, shiny metal instruments resembling forceps, and many other, incomprehensible items, all intended to examine your intimate bottom. A familiar chill runs down your spine, sweetly catching your breath, your legs go weak on their own. Of course, you know that this man will definitely insert something into your little bottom now, and a burning shame, mixed with desire, envelops you again. But there's no turning back, nor is there any particular desire to refuse the upcoming procedure. You become subject to your secret attraction, which is about to become reality; the hypnosis of anticipation and the expectation of the beginning have already taken hold of you...

And I pay no attention to how you take off your boots, unbutton your skirt, turning the hooks to the front, and slide it down, swaying your hips. Turning to you, I see a slender figure, the rounded, charming forms of female hips and bottom. "Undress, undress," I say, and you begin to slowly take off your tights, giving me pleasure as I watch the graceful movements of your hands sliding down the thin black nylon and revealing white skin...

I command you to lie down, and you lie face down on the hard couch covered with a clean white sheet. All that remains is to remove the small lace panties, which practically cover nothing and, it seems, wouldn't even interfere with the procedures. I do this myself, with some difficulty overcoming the wide hips and causing a swaying of the beautiful female bottom, which appears in all its glory.

A barely perceptible aroma of some pungent French perfume wafts through the air, reminding me that besides patients, there are also beautiful women...

Taking your temperature is the next step in the examination. Of course, first it's necessary to lubricate the little hole, tightly closed from outside encroachments. To get the patient's first reaction to the upcoming manipulations, I don't use a thin thermometer, but a regular one, 8 mm. I take a little lubricant on my finger, covered with a thin rubber glove, and begin to slowly rub it over the entrance, making circular motions, slightly capturing the buttocks, which I hold with my other hand, widely spread apart. The little bottom tightens when my finger passes over it, and relaxes when I remove my hand. But I continue the movement, now lingering longer on the pink hole, pressing my finger against it as if trying to penetrate inside. At first the muscles tighten, but the finger remains pressed, and they relax. I ask you to breathe deeper, and on the next exhale, the finger is already inside the bottom, slipping in easily. Now it's better to hold it still so you get used to it and the muscles don't seize it with every movement.

You feel a pleasant-unusual novelty within yourself, not yet having decided how to feel about it. Although once there was a case when a patient, while I was making an entry in the journal, several times removed and inserted the thermometer herself, not interested in its readings, but experiencing pleasure from the very process of it sliding in her bottom. Of course, secretly from me, thinking I didn't see.

But now three minutes have passed and I, again spreading the buttocks with my left hand, remove the thermometer. Of course, the temperature is normal, and we will proceed to the main examination. For this, it will be necessary to clean the lower section of the intestine, and I'm going to give a simple cleansing enema with a Bardex nozzle, to avoid surprises and awkwardness. The nozzle is disposable, with one balloon. "Turn onto your left side," I command you, and take the nozzle in my hands.

It's made of elastic rubber-like plastic, with an oval end and side holes, thickness — about the size of a finger, no more. Before the holes, approximately 3...5 cm away, an inflatable reservoir made of thin transparent rubber is attached to the nozzle, similar to the kind used for rectal condoms, and which in its normal state is practically unnoticeable on the nozzle's surface. This part is inserted inside and, using a small bulb, is inflated, expanding in the bottom and preventing the nozzle from falling out, and, most importantly, not allowing the water to spill out spontaneously. This nozzle, lubricated and shiny, I hold in my right hand, with my left lifting the upper half of your bottom...

... But then I remember that I should first give a small cleansing enema, simply to remove what might be very close by. So I set aside the Bardex nozzle and ask you to turn onto your stomach again. Just as I took your temperature, I again with pleasure spread your bottom, add lubricant to the pink tender hole, and insert a rubber tube into it, not deeply, about 10 cm. I draw water into a large transparent plastic syringe, attach it to the tube with the nozzle, and insert it into your tube. Gradually pressing the plunger, you feel the water going inside, cool and very perceptible. And I pull the tube out a little so the water streams right at the very edge, just behind the bottom, where the sensations are most distinct and pleasant. Then I push it back into the depth. I detach the emptied syringe and draw a second portion of water. I repeat everything again, similarly moving the tube in the bottom so the water fills the lower part of the intestine more evenly.

Now — quickly to the toilet, and I ask you to come back to me. I dry your bottom, apply a soothing cream, and turn you onto your left side again. Now we can begin. I lift the upper buttock and slowly insert the Bardex nozzle its full length into the shiny pink hole of your bottom. Then I take in my hand the black rubber bulb of the pump, which is connected via a thin tube to the balloon on the nozzle, and squeeze it. You feel something soft and pleasant expanding inside your bottom. I release the bulb, it straightens and sucks in air, making the familiar sound of a rubber enema bulb. I squeeze it a second time, pumping air into your bottom and into the balloon on the nozzle. It continues to expand and pushes apart some pleasant corners, previously inaccessible, more and more. A third time I suck in air and a third time pump it inside. Now you can make various movements without fear of the nozzle popping out. This is especially attractive when using Bardex during sexual contact — you can continuously receive varied sensations from changing positions, from body movement, from relaxing the anal muscles; and the tube connecting the nozzle to the reservoir constantly "guides" the nozzle in the bottom, turning it in different directions...

Time to let the water in — I open the tap and wait until the water reservoir empties, approximately

one liter ends up inside your belly. I close the tap, and we must wait about five minutes. "How are you feeling?" — I ask. You ponder how to answer, but so far nothing special is happening. However, after a couple of minutes the water makes itself known, and I ask you to turn onto your back, bending your legs. I stroke your stomach in circles, as is usually done with small children. This brings relief, but not for long. The nimble water very quickly reaches the very exit, but there's no way out for it. I see how you instinctively pull up your legs, and I advise you to get on your knees and elbows. This maneuver helps, the unpleasant urges disappear, I again stroke and massage your belly. Once more I squeeze the bulb, pumping air into the nozzle, adjust it in your bottom, and this pleasant movement smooths over the drawbacks of the procedure...

With a warm and inexplicable feeling, I see the slightly parted lips, moist and tender, trusting and therefore, it seems, very close and dear...

I escort you to the toilet, holding the instruments, open the plug and let the air out of the nozzle. You free yourself from everything that was in your bottom and intestine, and I see that I'll have to repeat the enema, as we didn't reach clear water. "Bend over, please" — I wipe you with a tissue and invite you back to the couch. I fill a new reservoir with water, attach a clean Bardex to the tube, connect the bulb. I lay you on your back, ask you to bend your legs and spread them apart. Carefully spreading the buttocks, I lubricate the little bottom...

... Now you are no longer tense, and the balloon slips into the bottom very easily, only at the very beginning spreading its elastic ring. I feel quite distinctly that you are beginning to enjoy the procedure, the tension and awkwardness of the first minutes are leaving you. This feeling cannot leave me indifferent. And when the balloon disappears into the bottom, the sight of the little hole encircling the red tube of the nozzle awakens my own instrument. I slowly advance the tube deeper, it slides inside, and you lift your legs even higher, pressing them to your chest. I spread the buttocks wider, touching the palm of my hand to the tender lips, and insert the nozzle even further.

Then a sigh is heard, which cannot be interpreted in any other way than as a woman's desire to receive what happens between her and a man in a moment of intimacy. Our thoughts and feelings naturally coincide, and I press my palm a little more firmly against the lips, and with my fingers spread the buttocks even wider apart, completely exposing the little bottom with the red nozzle in it. I pull the tube back until the balloon presses against the anal ring from inside, and then begin to insert the nozzle again. Again a sweet sigh is heard, I'm in no hurry, only slightly bending the tube so it enters at an angle, causing more sensations. And it slides, shiny and red, slowly entering the shiny little bottom...

Then I feel your hand gripping my elbow, pulling it towards you so my palm presses more firmly against the lips. I don't object, and already feel the heat and moisture under my hand. I have to let go of the buttocks, as you force my fingers to position themselves between the lips, and now I'm already stroking the tender petals, finding the small, firm clitoris. My palm feels the silky, firm hairs on the pubic mound rising above the belly, my fingers gently squeeze and smooth the lips, running over the small, almost imperceptible bump...

But the water is on, its penetration deep into the intestine sometimes causes involuntary contractions of the sphincter, and I see how the bottom squeezes the red tube of the nozzle, it lifts and trembles. I let go of our games and caresses, insert the tube a little deeper into the bottom, and then pull it back again towards the exit so the balloon presses against and closes it. Of course, this requires spreading the firm buttocks hiding the pink opening in which this shiny red nozzle slides, and again admiring the lovely sight.

You, however, have no intention of letting go of my elbow, and I notice that your fingers are now gripping me with all their might. My dear patient has become completely comfortable with the procedure conducted under my skillful guidance, and it seems the finale of a completely different, parallel scenario is near. I continue to slowly move the tube and don't remove my palm from the pubic area, my fingers still stroking the feminine charms, when a barely noticeable wave runs through my patient's entire body...

I turn off the water. You lie still a little longer, but the natural completion of the medical process forces you to get up and go to the toilet.

After a rather prolonged absence, you return, trying not to look in my direction, and I ask you to get on your knees and elbows on the couch. Now, perhaps, we can examine in more detail what your bottom is like. I lubricate the anus and the metal speculum with cream, then slowly insert it inside. The bottom admits the metal instrument into itself, I ask you to breathe deeper, and open the speculum, widening the opening of the bottom. With each subsequent exhale, the bottom expands more and more.

— Does it hurt?" — I ask you, — "No, not at all," I hear the answer. I record the examination result in the chart, removing the speculum and lubricating your bottom once more.

However, you are in no hurry to leave the couch. "Doctor, won't you give me another enema?" — I hear and am slightly surprised by the change that has occurred in my patient. "Of course," — I answer and fill a two-liter rubber bag with warm water. I put a thick, but not long, nozzle on the end of the hose, with a thin isthmus and a stop near the hose. As it later turned out, I was being prudent.

I lubricate the bottom and the nozzle, then, as usual, without rushing, spread the buttocks apart and insert the nozzle. At first it widens the opening, quite strongly, but then the outer part of the nozzle narrows, and it sort of fixes itself in the bottom, not slipping inside and not falling out.

This doesn't cause any displeasure in the patient; on the contrary, it seems you like it this way. I slightly open the water and hear a satisfied sigh.

The sight is, of course, quite erotic, and after the patient's next frank sigh, my instrument rises inexorably. How you find out about this, only God knows, but suddenly you rise up and your hand unerringly finds it in my trousers. Freeing it is not so difficult, and when it's positioned right opposite its intended place, you lower yourself onto the couch again, now giving me no chance to retreat. I touch the hot, moist lips, spread them apart, opening the way...

My friend, slowly making its way into the hot chambers, feels the nozzle, which seems to be standing right in its path, and, pushing it aside, continues its movement. At this moment, I hear such a moan of pleasure that I pull back, again displacing the nozzle, and then move forward again, more slowly now, to prolong the pleasure. Again a moan is heard, impossible to confuse with anything else, from which the head spins and sober consciousness slowly drifts away...

With a final effort of will, I open the tap on the enema tube and pull the woman towards me, gripping the narrow waist with all my strength and pressing the wide bottom against my pubic bone...

That's it, it can't go any deeper, even though we strive with wild persistence to overcome this barrier... That's it...