This is a work of fiction. The business described here does not exist as Pediatrics At Your Service or under any other name. Any resemblance to any existing people or businesses is coincidental. If a story involving sexual contact with minors bothers you or is illegal where you live, stop reading now.
This story is part of a series. I suggest that you read the prologue before embarking further. You can find it here:
Pediatrics - Prologue
This series builds slowly and is soft-core by most standards. If this will bore or frustrate you, reading it may not be the best way to spend your time.
Pediatrics At Your Service - First case
Forward
I honestly didn't think anyone would answer the advertisement for Pediatrics At Your Service. And at first, it seemed that no one would. I left the ad posted on a number of local boards, checked my email regularly. Nothing for several days. I decided that a bit more of a professional appearance might be in order, so I set up a simple website with some reassuring pictures and an online appointment book. Within a week, there began to be a trickle of traffic. On day twelve, my inbox lit up with the first request for an appointment.
Hello - I've just moved here with my daughter and don't have a local physician. Too busy to find one, so your service seems like a godsend. Could you see her some evening this week? She's supposed to have an exam before starting school. Thanks in advance, Anna Draper
The first thing I hadn't considered is that some people might take my ad at face value. I was looking for parents with particular needs and interests with whom I could conspire to molest their children in ways that avoid the "two fears." But a pediatrician willing to make house calls actually fills a gap in our medical system, especially for busy single parents. In retrospect this was a pretty obvious oversight. Now that my perverse business concept seemed like it might become real, I clearly needed to be smarter.
A flurry of questions raced through my head. Could I actually do this? Would I be believable as a doctor? What if she asks for credentials? Will I need to give her written evidence of an exam for the school? Would they check up on the signer of such a note? What if the child needs actual medical care? Or a vaccination? Can a fake doctor be sued for malpractice? How long are jail terms for impersonating a physician?
This jumble of concerns slowly converged into one all-encompassing thought: Is this worth the risk? I was dwelling on the first fear, the fear of getting caught. But I wouldn't have started down this path at all if I wasn't capable of rationalizing away almost anything that stood in the way of fondling a naked eight-year-old.
Since I began thinking about physical exams as a potentially viable path to molesting children, my mind had been active in two dimensions. First, I researched what would be necessary to conduct a credible physical exam. I had some basis for this, having studied biology in college and taken a variety of training in first aid. I used the power of the Internet to further educate myself on exam procedures. I ordered professional-grade instruments and practiced using them... on myself, awkwardly at first, but then with growing confidence.
The other direction my mind took was understanding just what would be possible with regard to the molesting. The key criterion here was that the procedure must seem to the child to be part of an actual, "normal" physical exam. This was frustrating for me, and I expect will be frustrating for many readers. For example, there is no circumstance in which the doctor exposing his penis would be part of an actual exam. If a child were to describe this to anyone, they would immediately see that it was out of bounds. That can happen only in the realm of fantasy or overt molestation. I had to continuously remind myself to keep it real.
Despite the reigning paranoia about child abuse, the medical profession still has a clear stance on genital exams for children. The American Academy of Pediatrics says:
"Some doctors skip genital exams out of fear. You don't want to have any exam ever misconstrued by parents or children, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't examine the genitals of children. A genital exam is part of a good annual exam of children."
Boys and girls are treated quite differently in this regard. Because hernias are much more common in boys and testicular cancer is not rare, pediatricians are much more prone to handle the privates of their male patients. But the professional guidelines are very specific for girls too, as noted in a recent paper appearing in Pediatrics in Review:
"Genital examination should be a routine part of a comprehensive physical examination for any girl at any age. Abnormalities... require prompt evaluation and treatment."
All that is well and good, but parents are very much on edge. Pushing any boundaries without a specific complaint, obvious symptoms or clear encouragement from Mommy or Daddy would be just too dangerous. Performing a rectal exam on a preteen without symptoms would be an example of going over the line.
Anna Draper's message forced me to consider all this very carefully. There was no reason to believe that she was interested in anything but a routine check-up, and in that case there wouldn't be much opportunity for molesting. Even a cursory exploration inside her daughter's underpants could raise questions. These thoughts almost caused me to shutter my nascent business before meeting its inaugural client.
Almost.
I'd crossed a very dangerous line, you see. I'd always thought that touching a child sexually would always be just a fantasy. Pediatrics At Your Service made this possibility seem real. It was probably a ridiculous idea... but with passion and focus, ridiculous ideas can reach fruition. Once my warped brain had accepted that such a thing could truly happen, there was no chance that I wasn't going to try.
Let's suppose that Anna's daughter is happy and healthy and has no physical complaints. Let's assume that her mother is protective and will stay in the room with her during the exam. Assume that she's shy and wants to wear the drape. Protocol would say that any inspection of the genitals would be at most brief and perfunctory. What's left for the would-be molesting physician?
Quite a lot, at least to me. Being in a position of authority over the child. Telling the child to undress, and expecting that they'll do just that. Watching their small round face as they hear the words and absorb their meaning. Even if they leave their underpants on and wear the gown, they're very exposed. Laying hands on the child. Brushing their nipples with a deft hand as you move the stethoscope. Repositioning their tiny bodies. The reassuring hand on their narrow hip. Subtly smelling the hair. Making small talk as you lay them back on the table. Lifting the gown to palpate their abdomen. Working lower, just past the waistband of their underpants. Even if this is all, if there's nothing else... this is enough. It's intensely intimate, this minimalist's molestation - almost an art when done to perfection.
And to think, this lovely subtle dance of the normal exam - this is the worst case. So many things can open new opportunities. I'll ask the parent if they wish to be present during the exam, and they may say no. There may be a symptom or behavior that calls for deeper investigation. He's been itching down there. She's prone to urinary tract infections. He's been complaining of stomach aches. She's still wetting the bed. So many possibilities, any of which leave the door wide open to the doctor's trusted discretion. Any of which lead to the underpants coming down, or off. And once the underpants are off...
It's this moment that's perhaps most compelling to me. If you read the stories of people whose sexuality was shaped by their medical exams, the removal of the underpants often stands out as the defining event. The helplessness as it's understood. The desperate, beseeching look to the parent for help, but the parent just smiles and nods, failing (from the child's perspective) in their protective duty. The doctor fully dressed, the child completely naked. The shame of being exposed, the knowing that it will last a while, the anticipation of touching.
There are three possibilities in the removal of the underpants:
the child is told to remove them and they do it themselves
the doctor removes them, with or without asking for permission or giving warning
the parent removes them, often the case with the youngest or most reluctant patients
All of these alternatives have their charms. The decision to have the underpants off has already been discussed and agreed with the parent, based on some indication of a need. This means that any debate with the child will be short-lived. Regardless, it's essential to be simple and matter-of-fact about it, firm but casual. "Ok Stephen, I need to you take off your underpants for the rest of the exam." Ideally, the two parts of that sentence sink in separately. First, Stephen understands that he's being told (not asked) to remove his last stitch of clothing. The expression of dismay on his little face is priceless. Then the second part lands... for the rest of the exam... and he understands that he will be naked for an extended period of time. The panic in his eyes is just... delightful, I have to say.
It's also at this moment that you can observe the parent and seek to understand their reaction to seeing their child naked and manipulated in the large adult hands of a stranger. Does their face convey anxiety? sympathy for the child? curiosity? active interest? even... jealousy? All signals that it's essential to interpret properly, so that the opportunities can be fully exploited.
So you see, given all these possibilities, even in the worst case, I simply had to answer Anna Draper's message.
The Parent Interview
I spoke with Anna Draper on the phone to finalize our appointment. She impressed me as an intelligent, friendly woman who is a bit overwhelmed by her change in circumstances. She is 34 years old and works as an advertising executive. Recently divorced and moved to this city for a new job and a fresh start.
Anna's daughter Claire is seven years, eight months old and has a routine medical history. Anna describes her as energetic and active, sometimes overly so. (Likely within normal range but suggestion of ADHD.) She is asymptomatic of any physical issues but sometimes has trouble sleeping. (Suggestion of anxiety associated with family issues and relocation.) She is current on her vaccinations and needs a routine physical for school.
I described a typical exam to Anna and she asserted that Claire's overall health did not warrant any non-standard assessments. I probed for any symptoms or issues that would suggest a more thorough exam was called for, but Anna was confident that there were no specific concerns. However, per the mother it has been at least two years since Claire's last physical, and we agreed that a complete head-to-toe was appropriate.
Thinking like a doctor helps me to act like one, and vice versa, so transcriptions from my notes may seem a little clinical at times. My more personal reflections may be of more interest. This being my first conversation with a parent as a fake doctor, I was insanely nervous and probably overdid the medical banter. But in the end she was comfortable enough to invite me into her home to lay hands on her daughter. I was more than a little proud of this. I was even more proud that I mustered the nerve to show up for the actual exam.
I was beginning to understand that I could encounter a wide range of parents and children in the course of my practice, and that my ability to understand the nuances of each situation would be critical to success... and to safely. Anna was clearly intelligent, so there would be no chance to simply blind her with medical jargon. But she also seemed friendly and easy going, prone to be trusting, and very busy. If I could make her feel like she was in control, I felt there was some potential for an entertaining exam.
The Exam
I arrived at the Draper household at 10 AM on a Saturday morning. Anna Draper answered the door with Claire clinging to her leg. The girl appeared younger than her physical age and quite shy as she peered around at me. Short dark hair like her mother's and pale green eyes. She was dressed in loose shorts and a plain pink t-shirt, with no shoes or socks. Her tiny toes crossed and uncrossed as she fidgeted in the doorway. A heart-stopper, for me.
I was the image of a professional: white coat with name tag, dark blue scrubs, black bag in hand... a retro model that I'd paid handsomely for at auction, but well worth the cost for the traditional look. I'd outfitted the instruments carefully, all of exceptional quality, all sized for children in a wide range of ages, and all meticulously "aged" to show wear consistent with appropriate use. I felt somehow that scrubs would instill more confidence in parents than street clothing, no matter how formal. I presented as a down-to-earth, hard-working and practical doctor.
Beneath the loose fabric of the pants, I'd worn snug underwear. Keeping it real. The fantasy where the mother sees the huge tent in my pants as I examine her little girl and immediately begs me to ravish them both... is just that, a fantasy. We're not going to let anyone see just how hard I get as I lay hands on charming little Claire.
I wanted to put them both at ease. Anna was friendly but seemed somewhat distracted, occasionally glancing at her phone as we talked.
"Thank you so much for coming, Doctor Woode." She motioned me into their sparsely-furnished living room. Cardboard boxes were stacked in the corners in various states of unpackedness. We passed into the kitchen and she offered me a seat at a small round table with three chairs. She and Claire joined me in sitting.
"It's very nice to meet you, Miss Draper. And you too, Claire." I summoned my most confident smile, even though my heart was pounding in my chest. This was way scarier than I had imagined, and I had imagined it being terrifying. The girl met my eyes briefly and flashed the tiniest of smiles, and I relaxed just a bit. Perhaps we would get along.
I directed my questions first to Anna, getting the basic medical history, taking notes on my iPad. Anna's phone rang and she answered, apologizing and walking into the living room. I redirected my smile to Claire, a little awkwardly. She was swinging her feet, looking down and studying her toes.
"You're in second grade, Claire?" I ventured. She nodded without looking up. "How do you like your new school?" She made a face that was difficult to interpret. "It's okayyyy." Still shy. I imagined that her mother was quite directive with her, so I tried a slightly more authoritative tone. "Tell me what you like best about it, Claire." She looked up and considered for a moment. I'd gotten her attention. "There's awesome swings." I rated this as some progress. Anna returned to the table.
"So sorry... moving and new job and just everything. It's a bit much, I'm afraid." She smiled at Claire. "Are you being nice to the doctor, pumpkin?" Claire nodded slowly, biting her lip and sliding her bottom down to the edge of the chair.
"We're getting along just fine, Miss Draper. Aren't we, Claire?" Claire shrugged a little bit didn't dissent, perhaps feeling as though she'd passed some sort of test. "I think I have all the history I need. Now... for the exam, you have some choices." I swallowed and tried to sound like I'd had this conversation many times before. "We want Claire to be as comfortable as possible. I have a portable exam table, but we can also use her bed if you feel that's preferable. And I brought a gown if you'd prefer, or she can wear a loose-fitting shirt of her own... or go without. She can keep her underpants on." I swallowed again. Of course, my questions implied that the shorts would come off. I watch Claire from the corner of my eye. She seemed to not be listening.
Anna considered. She appeared to relax somewhat as I outlined the options. My sense that she'd be more comfortable and trusting if she was making the decisions seemed to be tracking.
"Well... her room is a mess, so I think we'll need your table, Doctor. The gowns always seemed silly to me..." She hesitated, apparently unsure. I smiled a little, suppressing a much wider smile. "Whatever will be most comfortable for her. It's a bit easier without it, but we can always work around," I offered, trying to sound helpful.
I was a little surprised that Anna didn't ask her daughter for her preference. This woman was used to being in charge. Her phone vibrated again and she looked at it a little anxiously. "She'll be fine without it," she said, looking at Claire directly and clearly expecting that to be the end of the matter. Claire blinked, not really understanding.
I rested my tablet on the table and clung to it desperately to keep my hands from shaking. I did my best to speak casually.
"Anna, you mentioned on the phone that it's been almost two years since Claire's had a physical." She looked a little sheepish and nodded. I reassured her. "Completely understandable given the circumstances. Considering this, I think we agreed that we should we do a comprehensive exam. It'll take a bit longer than what's strictly required for school. Entirely up to you, of course." Appealing to guilt seemed effective. "Yes, of course," she quickly assented. She sounded relieved to have a chance to be deemed a good parent.
Here I had a moment of indecision. By "comprehensive exam," of course I meant that I'd be taking down darling Claire's knickers. I wasn't at all sure that Anna had understood this, though. And if she took exception and decided to look further into my background... well, that wasn't something pleasant to consider. I felt I had to be totally clear.
I nodded to congratulate Anna on her choice, and continued as nonchalantly as I could. "I'm sure you're familiar with the procedure. Standard practice for a complete physical includes a brief external genital exam. No instruments and nothing invasive of course. Just confirming that you're comfortable with this." I stared at my tablet and pretended to take notes as though the question were completely routine. When Anna didn't answer immediately, my stomach clenched and I looked up slowly. She was staring at her phone again. After a moment I prompted her gently. "Anna?" She met my gaze apologetically. "Oh. Yes. Of course. Whatever is... whatever you recommend, doctor."
My nerves jangled a cacophony in my ears. This was really happening. "Well then... Anna, why don't you get her ready and I'll get my table?" She nodded and again studied her phone. I stood and went to the car. My hands were shaking. I took several deep breaths before carrying my folding exam table and stool back into the house.
The sight on entering the living room forced me to catch myself before I let out an audible gasp. Anna was sitting on the couch, Claire standing in front of her. Claire's t-shirt was off and laying on the couch next to her mother. Her chest was boyish and flat as a board of course, her nipples only slightly darker than her tan skin. Claire eyed me a little nervously as I set up the table in the middle of the room.
"But mommy..." Claire's voice was a thin whine. "Shhhhh... don't be a baby. It's ok because he's a doctor, and I'll be right here the whole time." Anna's words seemed to cow her daughter more than reassure her. Claire's face flushed red and she bit her lip, but she didn't protest further as Anna tugged her shorts down to her ankles in one motion, then lifted each of the little feet in turn and stripped them off. Claire squirmed and cast embarrassed glances my way with darting eyes. Anna looked up somewhat apologetically. "She'll be fine, doctor. Go on, sweetheart."
Claire's underpants were simple bikinis, yellow with small pink dots. They appeared to be slightly too small for her and rode up her small round bottom, exposing the lower curve of each cheek. Her mother turned her to face me and adjusted them in the back. As she did, the thin fabric stretched in just the right way. The soft cleft of the child's sex pressed against the cloth and revealed its delicate shape in soft relief. I managed to keep my eyes up, mostly. Fortunately Anna was busy folding Claire's shorts.
Claire seemed unsure what "go on" meant, so I helped her by beckoning her in my direction. She moved closer tentatively. I sat on my stool to lower myself to her level and took both of her hands gently in mine as she approached. "There we are. Just relax, Claire. This won't hurt at all and it'll be over in no time, I promise." The child looked very skeptical. Her pleading look back at her mother elicited only an admonishment. "Be a big girl for me, Claire... please."
I had to clear my thoughts. There was a seven year old girl standing in front me wearing nothing but her underpants. Her mother was sitting nearby, watching. Mom had just removed her daughter's clothing at my direction. I had not just permission but an expectation that I would be touching this tiny beautiful child. Despite my profound terror, I was very glad I'd worn the snug underwear. My male parts were responding with some urgency to the situation, but the tension in the rest of my body thankfully diverted some of the blood flow.
I forced myself to recite the exam procedures I'd studied. Head to toe. Slow and careful. Gentle and reassuring. Height and weight, using my spanking-new digital portable scale. Very proper. I let Claire stand as I extracted my otoscope and shined its light in ears and nose and mouth. I explained each step, what I was doing and why. She calmed somewhat as I worked crisply and with increasing confidence. As I progressed, I chatted with her casually.
"How about your teacher? Is she nice?" "Ahuh... she reads to us." "Oh that's lovely... what has she read to you so far?" "She read a book about a French girl who lives in a hotel and can do anything she wants." This last sounded a bit plaintive, as though Claire did not get to do anything she wanted. I suspected this was true. "Eloise was always one of my favorites too." I worked my fingers gently in little circles under Claire's jaw and down the sides of her neck, checking for any swelling or masses. Anna was smiling gently, apparently appreciative of my passing knowledge of children's literature and my ability to calm Claire's anxiety.
"Turn around for me please, Claire." I tried to be matter-of-fact without intimidating. Claire turned to face her mother. I savored the moment of control. My erection throbbed and dripped in my pants as her perfect bottom hovered near my face. "Bend over, sweetheart. I'm going to look at your back to make sure it's all straight." I thrilled again as she did as she was told. I stood and traced my fingers down her spine, all the way down to her tailbone, brushing at the waistband of her underpants. "Perfect! You can stand up and hop up onto the table." I was completely sincere in saying that she was perfect. Her spine was straight as an arrow and her bottom was simply spectacular.
Claire looked unsure about how to get onto the table. It hadn't occurred to me that it was too high for a child to easily mount. I tried to act as if this happened all the time, and with only a slight tremble I took her tiny waist in my hands and lifted her up. She was almost weightless in my arms. I saw flashes of light as more blood left my brain. Handling this tiny, nearly naked girl was everything I had hoped it would be. And we were just getting to the good part.
With Claire seated on the table, I took my time and chatted with her as we did a through walk-through of her tan, slender upper body. "Do you play outside a lot, Claire?" This as I held her wrists and had her push against me, testing her strength. "That's my girl... so strong! Push as hard as you can." She relaxed and even smiled a little as we played this game. I made a show of blowing on the stethoscope to warm it before listening carefully, moving the instrument crisply over her chest. Anna was seated behind Claire, and so was not in a position to see as my fingers brushed the child's nipples each time I moved the scope.
It was in this moment that I crossed another perilous line. As I worked methodically over Claire's smooth skin, resting my thumb or finger on the small dark rings, I had the first, most subtle reward for my weeks of planning and angst. A slight tightening... a microscopic crinkle of the brown flesh... the rise of a tiny sharp point... Claire looked a little confused and bit her lip, as though sensing something unfamiliar... her bottom squirmed ever so slightly on the table. I swallowed, repeated my exploration... a slight shiver in her body... goosebumps on her arms... a soft giggle. "Tickles!" She said it softly... not a complaint, just simple a statement.
I smiled without apologizing and moved on to listen to her lungs and heart from the back, appearing (I hoped) calm and professional. Inside I was gasping, and in my pants I was leaking. Perhaps it was my hopeful imagination, but I believed in the moment that I'd raised some form of response in my young patient. It was heady, almost dizzying... and instantly and profoundly addictive. I wanted more.
There was a moment of nerves as I tested Claire's reflexes with the small rubber mallet. I'd never done it before, and testing on myself had been only intermittently successful. If I couldn't make her kick, it could raise questions. I tried to look confident as I bent over and tapped at her knee tentatively. Nothing. A second try a little lower elicited a tiny twitch in her leg. Relief! A little lower and a nice healthy swing of her leg, and a more easy giggle from my patient. I was getting the hang of this.
I grinned at Anna, a little too proud of my success, my happy puppy expression perhaps saying "See, I actually AM a doctor." She returned the look a little quizzically. I tried to recover quickly. "Everything is great so far," I offered. Anna smiled in return and spoke to Claire, "There you are, sweetheart... nothing at all to worry about."
With this encouragement, I moved with more ease to the next and most interesting phase. I took Claire by the shoulders and guided her to lean back onto the table. "Lay down for me, Claire... swing your legs up onto to the table... that's my girl." She wiggled and scratched her flat tummy as she settled into a prone position. Stretched out before me, she was a vision of adorable vulnerability, her arms held tightly at her sides like a little soldier. I raised the head of the table a little so that she could see what I was doing. I'd read that this lessened anxiety with children, which is all well and good. But I wanted her to see my hands as they touched. I wanted her to see, and feel, and remember.
More banter as I worked my way down Claire's childish torso, prodding and kneading. As I reached her ribs she flinched quite visibly. "Does it hurt here, princess?" I was genuinely concerned and took my hands back. Claire shook her head. "Tickles." I smiled and applied another trick I picked up watching online videos of exams, taking Claire's small hand and laying it under mine as I probed. "Now you can feel what I'm feeling too... just checking all your insides to make sure nothing hurts and everything is where it should be." She watched with interest and we worked lower together until our fingers were slipping just beneath the waistband of her underpants. I paused and rested my hand on her tummy.
I swallowed. No more time to stall. No way to back out. And certainly no desire on my part to stop now.
I summoned my most sympathetic voice. "Claire, did your mother tell you that we need to check you all over?" I looked up at Anna who nodded in confirmation. Claire nodded slowly, looking uncertain. Her face and chest began to flush pink. It's not an exaggeration to say that I was in love. I felt no need to rush. "I'm going to take your underpants down for this part, Claire." I paused, watched her face glow darker red, her eyes darting. "Lift your bottom for me, princess." There was a powerful eroticism for me in simply telling her, not asking.
Despite everything being set up perfectly for this moment, I was still surprised when Claire did exactly as she was told. Her back arched, her legs stiffened and her perfect bottom lifted slightly from the table. I wasted no time in hooking her waistband and sliding her miniature panties over her hips. I paused at her knees for just an instant, then lowered them all the way to her ankles.
This was certainly the single most arousing act I'd ever performed in my life. I could feel my own face grow hot and knew I had to be careful. Crisp and professional, Doctor Woode. Nothing you haven't done and seen countless times before. Strictly in the interest of the patient's health. My cock pressed painfully against my clothing and I hoped that the blood would stay there and not rush to my head. Good that I'd practiced the patter.
"We're going to pretend you're a frog for a minute, Claire. Let's bend your knees and pull your feet up, just like a frog's legs." I held her feet together, sole to sole, causing her knees to turn out to the sides, then gently but firmly slid her heels up the table towards her bottom. This 'frog position' is standard practice for exams. If her mother looked it up, she'd see that. Nothing to question here.
The result of course is that Claire's legs spread wide, her knees falling to lay flat on the table. That's the point of this position, to allow visual inspection of the female genitals. She watched with wide eyes, her gaze darting a bit, clearly embarrassed and uncomfortable but not seemingly ready to panic or resist. Her underpants tangled around her ankles ensured that she wouldn't be escaping. Claire looked to her mother, and Anna glanced up from her phone. "Be a big girl, Claire." Impatient? Disinterested? Whatever was distracting Anna was enough to take her attention away from her naked daughter being fondled by an adult male.
Of course the sight of Claire's utterly smooth, immature sex took my breath away. It was perfectly formed, a clean slit, almost entirely an "innie" with only the tiniest showing of the inner folds exposed against the swell of her outer vulva. The slightest trace of lingering baby fat made her pubis protrude as though she was presenting it to me... which she was, in a sense... presenting it for inspection. Her legs were slender and well formed like a junior gymnasts, thin smooth cords of muscle stretching along her inner upper thighs, pointing directly at her cleft. Sadly I couldn't let my gaze linger on this inspirational treasure. Keep it real, Doctor. I mentally pinched myself.
Receiving no comfort or relief from Mom, Claire turned her reddened face away and seemed to stare at some distant point, perhaps trying to pretend that this wasn't happening. I found it quite charming and allowed it for a moment, but I wanted her focused. "Claire... I need your attention... you're a part of this too, sweetheart." I tried to be firm but kind and smiled warmly as she looked back and met my gaze, then cast her eyes down to where my hands rested on her smooth tummy. She was in the perfect position to witness her imminent molestation. I think she and I both swallowed at the same time.
My fingers trembled only slightly as they worked their way firmly down her left inguinal canal, probing the cleft between her hip and her tummy. I explained as I went and it seemed to relax both doctor and patient. "First we have to be sure that your insides are all inside where they should be... sometimes they can poke out... that's called a hernia." Hernias are more common in boys (hence the standard "turn your head a cough" test) but also occur in girls. I moved deftly and let my fingers brush over her smooth mons as they descended along the valley towards the joining of her legs. Truly, a preteen girl's lower lips must be the softest things in the universe. I sighed and shivered inside as I repeated the procedure on the right, taking my sweet time. "Does anything hurt down here, Claire?" A definitive shake of the head. "Lovely... everything's just right." And it was.
I paused... breathed... gathered my most reassuring smile. Everything had led up to this. "I just need to have a look at your privates, Claire. I'm going to touch you there... just relax." Telling, not asking. An entirely deliberate use of the word 'privates.' They're not so private right now, are they darling Claire? I made something of a show of snapping on a pair of disposable latex gloves, fresh from the box. All professional here, see? Of course I wanted to use my bare fingers, to feel and fondle her childish naked cunny with nothing between us. But no risks... not this time, at any rate.
I nearly jumped out of my skin as at that precise and intense moment, Anna's phone rang. I recovered my wits as quickly as I could. She looked frustrated and spoke with an edge to the caller. "What? Wednesday? No, you don't understand, it has to be tomorrow. I have to start work..." She looked my way, gave a weak smile and a nod, and walked out of the room. I was quite surprised when she closed the door behind her. I heard her voice grow more urgent but fade a bit as apparently she walked down the hall, presumably for more privacy.
Needless to say, I was also glad for some privacy with my tiny patient. "I'm sure she'll be back in just a minute, sweetheart," I said, hoping that I was wrong. I felt a bead of sweat on my forehead and time seemed to slow. I mopped my brow and strapped on my headband light, then directed my eyes and the warm spotlight onto the object of my desire. Claire squirmed and I glanced up and saw her face red, apparently even more embarrassed at her most private place being so brightly illuminated. I looked briefly at the door through which Anna had exited and neither heard nor saw any sign of her return.
I'd thought about this part of the exam quite a lot. It was the most intense and dangerous bit. I had to admit that everything to that point had already given me fodder for years of frantic masturbation, so it would have been just fine if this part had turned out to be brief, perfunctory and routine. But fate had presented me with an opportunity, and who was I to deny it? So, I took an extra liberty that I wouldn't have had Claire's mother been in the room, one which I was confident wouldn't trigger any major alarms from the child.
Very gently I parted the girl's outer lips with my thumb and middle finger. Such delicate little petals inside... so very soft... slightly pinker than the surrounding skin, and the tiniest hood with its miniature boatman fully encased. I'd left my index finger free, and I extended it and let it rest... just rest... atop the tiny nub. Despite the glove I was able to feel the shape of the little pea. I swallowed and repressed a compelling urge to rub, to circle, to overtly masturbate it. Instead I simply pressed... just a little harder... then let up... not moving, just pressure... a little more... and a little less... pressing... releasing. I established a slow steady rhythm, spoke quietly... "Does anything hurt when you go to the bathroom, Claire?" A glance up at her face... it thrilled me to see her watching intently, her eyes were a little wide. She didn't answer right away. "Anything, sweetheart?" She opened her mouth a little... paused... "N-no," was all she could manage. Press... and release. Once more? Dare I? I had to. Press... hold... release. My fingers slipped a little, her inner folds... now faintly shiny? Her bottom squirmed. I breathed in. The faintest of scents. My reward. My cock throbbed and leaked.
Had I awoken her sexual response? Was that a flush of naughty new feelings on her face? Would she repeat the procedure herself in bed that night, her little hand buried inside her pajama bottoms? So nice to ponder.
I smiled brightly and looked up, rewarding her with my approval. She almost smiled, perhaps more from relief than anything else. Her face was also a little quizzical, as though there was a question that she couldn't bring herself to ask. I decided not to press it, to avoid calling any more attention to that part of the exam. "Just one more thing down there, pumpkin." I peered down again, expecting to take just a quick look at her bottom. Standard procedure and a very charming thing, but not my keenest area of interest. I gently brought her knees together and pushed them up to her chest. "Hold your knees for me, Claire." She bit her lip at yet another indignity but did as she was told. It was a compelling little round bottom with a lovely little star, but I didn't dare linger. I spread the firm cheeks and had a quick look. Everythigng seemed normal, and clean. I've never been one for the messy stuff. I was about to say "All done and all good!" but paused... shone my light and looked closer... and... there was actually something to see. Something medical, I mean.
There was a thin white line, perhaps just three-quarters of an inch at the juncture of her outer lips, beginning at the base near her bottom. I looked more closely. Touched it gingerly... she didn't flinch, just shivered a bit. "Does it hurt here at all, Claire? Right here, where I'm touching?" She shook her head and looked away, but I heard her almost whisper, "It just... itches sometimes I guess." Fascinating. I'd actually found a health issue, thankfully a minor one, and fortunately I'd done my homework on afflictions common to the preteen quim. I patted Claire's bottom gently and told her she could lower her legs. We chatted for a bit, her underpants still around her ankles as we waited for her mother to return. The girl seemed to have acclimated to her nakedness and even smiled a little as she described her breakfast (Cocoa Puffs) and her cat that they'd had to leave behind when they moved (Sam). I subtly enjoyed the view, my hand casually resting on her hip.
Anna eventually returned and looked exasperated from her call and surprised to see that her daughter still had her pants down. I told Claire that I needed to speak with her Mom and Anna's expression changed to one of concern. I took her aside with a reassuring touch on her elbow and spoke quietly. "Claire's very heathy, Anna. Nothing to worry about. There is just a minor issue that you'll want to manage."
So I found myself explaining to the mother of this girl I'd just fraudulently fondled everything I knew about labial adhesions. They were common in young girls and generally harmless, just a sticking together of the vulva that could lead to infections if not addressed. The treatment is simple, requiring only the regular application of a cream containing estrogen until the adhesion releases. The hormone causes the area to lubricate and the child's normal movement does the rest. Anna nodded actively and looked relieved. A little awkwardly she asked, "Well... I guess I should see it?" I nodded in response and we returned to the side of the exam table. Claire was getting antsy. "Mommy can I please get dressed nowwwwww?" Her Mom touched her cheek and said, "In a minute, honey." She looked at me, uncertain how to proceed. I tapped Claire's knee and gave her a knowing look. "One more time, sweetheart... grab your knees for me." She sighed and rolled her eyes but followed instructions, seemingly more bored than upset or embarrassed by now. I pointed out the area in question and quietly described the treatment procedure and named a few over-the-counter creams that would be effective. Inwardly I was delighted to imagine Claire presenting her bare little puss for her Mommy to salve every night for the next week.
My diagnosis and demeanor in handling the situation seemed to bolster my standing no end. Anna was profusely grateful and hugged her daughter tight as she hopped off of the exam table. Claire was happy to know she was heathy and to finally have her bottom covered. I cupped her cheek and she smiled up at me. My heart was a puddle on the floor.
I signed the form that Claire needed for school in a completely illegible scrawl. When Anna asked about payment, I probably looked surprised. I honestly hadn't considered that I could get paid for doing this. It wasn't about the money for me... I was a pure altruist. "Doctors Without Borders" came to mind. I certainly respected very few borders. To avoid suspicion I took her insurance information and assured her that the exam would be fully covered. Mother and daughter smiled and waved from the doorway as I carried my table and bag back to my car.
I had to pull over once I'd driven out of sight. I was panting, unable to breathe, feeling like my chest would explode. Shortly thereafter I had a large sticky mess to clean up, the first of several in the next few hours.
I was proud enough of my notes to send them to Anna, whose email response indicated she was further reassured by my transparency:
Claire is a healthy child and developing normally for her age. Height, weight and maturity within ranges (Tanner I). No abnormal findings with the exception of a minor labial adhesion adjacent to the perineum. The mother was advised of proper treatment with an OTC estrogen cream applied daily until the adhesion separates, and to monitor regularly for recurrence.
This story is part of a series, but this is currently the last chapter. More to come!