A Special Treatment for Karen

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Amateur

Note to readers: I haven’t posted anything or even written much for a long time but even now I sometimes get appreciative feedback, asking when I’ll post again. A few days ago I was searching on another site for literature on one of my favourite fetishes, and I found a story which looked promising. Right away I thought, “Wow, another author with almost the same interests as me and even writing like I would.” Before long I realised it was one I wrote several years ago but never posted. It was one I sent it to a friend, but later the file was lost when my old computer packed up and I’d almost forgotten about it. Luckily it had been published elsewhere and by chance I found it again. So I post it now in response to the loyal readers who still ask when I’m going to post another story.

Readers familiar with my stories will not be surprised that the subject matter includes graphic descriptions of bodily functions that are normally performed in private and not spoken of in polite company. I realise that many people find these subjects offensive, so please this bear in mind before deciding whether to read on.

*****

As I approached the building I carried the letter in my hand, then nervously unfolded and read it once again, as if anxious that, after 20 previous readings, the words would have changed. I felt a little knot of apprehension in my stomach, my mouth was dry and my hands were trembling. The pressure of a full bowel magnified my feeling of anxiety. I wondered for a moment if, even then, I could turn back, but knew I was committed. After all it was what I wanted and craved.

“No. 130 Woodfield Avenue.”

Yes this was the place. A large older style building, lots of dark stone, and set some distance back from the street. Insulated from the casual gaze of any passer-by…

“… you should have shaved all of your body hair, including pubic and perianal hair. I advise this is done professionally, at the salon (see address)…”

It was just three days earlier I endured having all my body hair shaved, very close. Some cream had been applied to leave me completely smooth and sensuous to touch and would suppress any regrowth for several days. I had not been able resist, in the private of my bed, stroking my bald pubis. There was something taboo, to my innocent mind, of having a shaven pussy. Requesting of the lady beautician that to be shaven so intimately, and exposing myself to the treatment was so debasing, but erotic. Even now the recollection of that procedure was causing dampness in my vagina.

“… eat normally, even copiously. You will not partake of any bowel movement in the 3 days before the appointed time of treatment. The tablets (enclosed) will inhibit the need to expel your waste. Take one tablet morning, midday and evening, and on the morning and midday of the day of the appointment…”

“… wear the new, white, full-cut, cotton knickers (enclosed) continuously during these 3 days, and nights. Do not remove them. Lower them only for urination, do not wipe away any drops…”

“…do not engage in any sexual activity with another person. You may masturbate if you wish, still wearing your knickers.”

My name is Karen Mason, aged 36, 5’7″, a slim, brunette and a senior executive of a medium sized firm. I am unmarried and unattached. I keep fit by working out at a local gym, by biking, tennis and swimming and enjoy a fairly full social life, though without any close personal friends. Indeed I had always been a very private person and shy about my inner self and still embarrassed about sex, about going to the bathroom, having been brought up to believe these are dirty and sinful. However, I was subject to passionate feelings and engaged in sexual fantasies in the private of my bed. Often they contained an element of submission and humiliation. Recently I had been feeling lethargic, as if suffering from lack of motivation in her life, or perhaps deficiency in my diet. Also my toilet had become irregular and I sometimes soiled my knickers if I could not reach her bathroom in time. Those incidents, apart from making me feel ashamed, triggered a fascination. I imagined messing myself in the middle of a board meeting, and suffering the ridicule of my colleagues. And I imagined myself undergoing highly intimate examination of my body and body functions. At night I would drift off to sleep with such a fantasy.

A few weeks ago I heard about a new clinic that advertised revolutionary treatment for inner problems, including all manner of genital, urinary and intestinal ailments. On investigating further I learned that the treatment was highly intrusive and, for most people, deeply embarrassing, humiliating even. I should have normally have been deterred but something fascinated and drew me to make an appointment…

Today I was dressed smartly in a grey business suit, cream silk blouse, dark stockings, and white underwear. Unlike the rest of my clean and smart attire, fresh today, I had worn my panties continuously for the last 3 days and nights. Despite not opening my bowels, tuzla escort I had been feeling a strong pressure and had broken wind many times, often wetly, and I realized my knickers were now in a highly soiled state. I was hoping I would not have to show them.

I entered through an open front door, following the arrows to the surgery. At the end of a passage on a door

Dr. Margareta Marussova: MD, FABT, IFACP. Please knock and enter.

I was nervous but excited.

“Come in!”

I entered a medium size office, cool and sparsely furnished. A rather severe looking lady of about 40 and wearing a white lab coat, apparently the doctor, sat at a large desk. As she stood up I observed her to be tall and slim, handsome rather than pretty. She appeared somewhat intimidating with her long blonde hair and scraped back and plaited. She smiled but no warmth extended to her eyes. She spoke with a distinctive Russian accent.

“Ms. Mason, my name is Dr Marussova, and I will supervise your treatment. A method I have pioneered, using the human body’s own store of vitamins and trace minerals to boost the energy and resistance against ailments. But a most important part is the breaking down of taboos and repulsion about your body functions. You have been, I believe, embarrassed and uncomfortable about such routine functions and urination, defecation, masturbation, and this has made you inhibited and ill at ease in company. Is that right?”

Anxiously, I answered in agreement. Even when I need to use the bathroom I was afraid to ask if there are others. The doctor told me a little about the idea behind the treatment but nothing about the treatment itself, except to confirm that it would be very intimate.

“The treatment is rather novel, and some people will find it embarrassing and objectionable. From your questionnaire answers you indicate your willingness to receive the treatment. Have you complied with all the directives?”

I blushed with embarrassment, and affirmed that my body hair was shaven and I had refrained from evacuating my bowels in the last 3 days. I admitted that I masturbated quite often during the last few days, and copiously creamed my knickers. Just then a slim and attractive blond nurse entered. She looked to be in her early twenties, demure and innocent next to the doctor.

“Nurse Allen, you will show Ms. Mason to the treatment room and perform the preliminary examination. Check vital signs, for any skin lesions and lumps, especially her breasts. Check that she is shaven and inspect thoroughly the state of her panties and report to me. Also examine her lower orifices for any abnormalities. And of course you will have to change into a uniform more suitable for Ms. Mason’s treatment”

All this reference to my body and intimate body parts simply added to my sense of shame.

The nurse, Jenny Allen was in her mid-20’s but scrubbed and devoid of makeup looked much younger. In her starched, pale blue cotton uniform and white bib apron she looked to epitomize the clinical goodness and purity. However, her outfit was cut closer and shorter than is normal in a most health clinics.

She led her me to the treatment room, dominated by white tiles. There was a cupboard for equipment, a large examination table, a trolley with instruments, a shower, sink, toilet (not hidden from view), a chair, and cupboard for clothes. The air was cool and the impression spartan.

“Please undress completely except for your panties and place your clothes in the cupboard, but keep your on knickers for inspection.” The nurse left the room for a few minutes while I undressed slowly – my shoes, jacket and skirt, silk blouse, bra, stockings and suspender, keeping on my panties. I wanted to remove those as well as I was ashamed at having soiled them so badly and didn’t want the young nurse to see them.

After a few minutes the nurse returned and I was surprised to see that she had changed into a uniform made completely of smooth, sky-blue rubber, with a white bib apron, also rubber snapped onto the front with press-studs. Her uniform was briefer than before and hugged her slim but curvaceous body, thus revealing her slim waist the flare of her hips, and her breasts. Her nipples protruded clearly, as though stimulated. It was obvious she was not wearing a bra

She placed a white cotton sheet on the table and instructed me to sit so she could take my vital readings – pulse temperature, blood pressure. She took my arm and kept it pressed firmly to her breast. I could feel her softness through the thin material. She stood very close and I was excited by her warmth and proximity. I wondered what happening to this mature, responsible lady as I could not stop myself moistening.

“Please lie on your back with your arms to the side.”

She minutely examined my body, paying particular attention to my neck, lumbar region, backs of legs, then ordered me to turn over. She turned her close attention to my armpits, my breasts, my belly, and between my legs. She gently pressed and teased each tuzla escort bayan nipple and slowly prodded around them to test for any lumps. She took some time over this, causing them to become engorged. I felt the wetness building up in my vagina and flowing into the already damp crotch of my panties.

“Good elasticity, and no lumps. No lesions. Excellent!”

Jenny’s hands then travelled slowly down to my panties, all the time keeping contact and caressing my skin. She slowly pulled them down exposing my shaven mound and vulva. She removed them and saw the heavy smearing, and I blushed deeply in embarrassment.

She inspected my panties closely. This embarrassed me further. Of course, the tablets had suppressed the reflex to expel but not the feeling of fullness or the need to break wind. Some soft stool has dribbled into my knickers and left extensive and distinct marks, and there were stains from dribbles of urine and my vaginal secretions.

“Oh dear, Ms. Mason, you really have got your knickers into a very soiled state, absolutely filthy. I don’t know what the doctor will say when she sees them, but she will no doubt ask how they came to be so dirty. But I am sure you couldn’t help it. And quite a lot of female secretion in the crotch. Part your legs now, for vaginal examination.”

All the hair had been removed from my mound, around my outer labia and anus. I felt very exposed and vulnerable in this state, knowing that my smoothness of my mound and around my orifice was allowing all of intimate parts to be revealed. Particularly the evidence of my sexual arousal would be visible without the usual protective screen of hair. She slowly and sensuously rubbed the palm of her hand over the smoothness, as though checking the closeness of the shave. Accidentally, it seemed, her fingertips touched lightly my opening, where I was wet, and I quivered in arousal. I was ashamed of my response but wanted her to push a finger inside me.

“Ms Mason, I am now going to feel you inside with my, and you might feel some discomfort as I penetrate you. Possibly you will become sexually aroused and feel yourself responding verbally or by moving your groin while I do that. You must know that I will not be offended if that happens, in fact it is important that you do not suppress your natural response. So do not worry about anything that is going to happen or anything you might say or do.”

The nurse took a pair of latex surgical gloves, pulled them on with a snap. Gently, very gently and slowly, she eased apart my labia to reveal the entrance to my love canal, which I knew would be glistening with desire. I felt juice forming and bubbling out, and realized it must be obvious to her. With her two little fingers nurse prized the lips further apart and nudged lightly at the hood to reveal my now swollen clitoris. She slowly worked the middle digit right deep inside my canal, and twisted it as though to probe the length. Then she worked a second, a third and finally her fourth, little finger which allowed her to reach all the way to its furthest depth to locate my uterus. She withdrew and showed me how her latex-clad fingers were covered in a wet film of cunt juice, then brought it to her nose and inhaled the scent. It seemed she enjoyed administering this examination.

Dispassionately she declared, “Good, it all seems perfectly healthy and moist… very wet in there but you mustn’t be embarrassed, it is quite normal to become aroused by the exam and you should not hide it. I need you to be wet so I can test if you have any infection by the smell of your cunt juice. Yours is musky and sweet, no yeast, perfectly healthy.”

She brought it to my face and told me to sniff my own scent. I was fascinated by this young nurse’s examination, and excited by the feel of her gentle hands on my body and inside me, yet ashamed of the betrayal of my response. I sniffed the juice on her latex clad fingers and felt deprived when she pulled them away.

She leant over and wiped my juices on my skin as she caressed my inner thighs. As she did this she leant over and whispered into my ear, “You have a very sweet cunt, Ms. Mason. I am going to enjoy performing the treatment on you.”

Then, in her professional tone, “Let me see your arse now. Turn over and adopt a position on your hand and knees… good, now spread your legs please and move your knees forward to beside your chest… now rest all your weight on your legs… a bit wider so I can look right into your arse crack… good!… now use both hands to hold it open for me, yes a bit wider. Don’t worry about it being shitty.”

I could not imagine a pose more humiliating. Not only was a naked, shaved around all my nether regions, and lewdly exposing my anal orifice to this sexily clad young nurse, but was actually holding my buttock cheeks apart with my hands so to present my rear even more blatantly. I had to tense my anal ring as hard as I could to avoid what would otherwise be a long, loud and very wet explosion of wind.

“Now don’t tense, Ms Mason, just relax escort tuzla your sphincter… yes, that’s good.”

She moved up very close behind me and I felt the fabric of her apron touch against my buttocks. Without warning she pressed her hand on my lower abdomen, causing me to relax. A loud long and wet fart erupted from my bowel… ppppppfffffffflllllllssssshhhhhtzzzzzztttttttttt!!… accompanied with a rich aroma and I heard several wet brown blobs fly out and splat on the nurse’s apron. I was acutely embarrassed and apologized for such a vulgar though involuntary act, but she just smiled at the incident and laughed over my profound embarrassment.

“Now you mustn’t worry about breaking wind, or about getting any shit on my uniform. I realize these examinations and treatments are messy so I wear my special uniform because it doesn’t matter how dirty it gets. I don’t mind at all when that happens so don’t be bothered or embarrassed. Anyway nurse’s uniforms get dirty all the time, it’s part of the job when doing messy treatments.”

Despite my shame I was fascinated that this young nurse could talk and behave so casually about something so repulsive as having her patient’s stool plastered on her apron. Then she wiped at the dark, glutinous blobs and smeared them over the surface making it look even more soiled.

“Of course, and as I expected, your entire anal region is completely smeared but it is easy to clean you up”

She took some damp cloths and gently wiped all around my anal opening, spiralling round and in until my rear hole was wiped clean, then dried the area with a warm dry cloth. To my amazement I find it pleasurable, despite my shame.

“Good, that was the easy part, Ms Mason. Not so bad was it? Here comes doctor now.”

My eyes were drawn toward the dominating figure who entered the treatment room. In place of her white lab coat, she now wore the uniform of a nursing sister… but with a difference. The colour scheme – blue tunic and white apron – was as normal but instead of regular cotton her outfit, like the nurse’s, was made of rubber and hugged closely her slim, mannish figure. In this outfit and her heeled boots she looked taller and even more imposing. Her stance, her expression and thickly accented voice added to her dominating presence. She pulled on a pair of latex gloves.

“Good. You have made the acquaintance. I see your nurse has begun the inspection and I trust you have followed obediently my instruction. If so you will have experienced how the medication has the effect of suppressing the urge to evacuate, thus causing considerable pressure, and casing some amount of early liquid stool to escape. I see you have already decorated nurse’s uniform. Anyway, no doubt you are more comfortable to have released some pressure from your bowels and I hope you are not too embarrassed at having soiled her uniform. I assure you it will be much more dirty before your treatment is finished. Good, I like to see the uniform my nursing staff display the signs of their work with dirty patients. You must not worry about offending her, Nurse Allen has considerable experience treating patients who are anally incontinent. I can assure you Nurse Allen does not mind how dirty you get her uniform.”

“Now you can see a first sign of how dirty you are, Ms. Mason. If you have any susceptibility to embarrassment, I promise you will experience far greater shame before the treatment is finished. Now nurse, present Ms. Mason’s knickers to me.”

She inspected closely, prodded at the brown wad on the gusset with her finger, sniffed and licked her finger.

“Yes, perfect, these must have been quite uncomfortable to wear today and I am pleased that you did not remove them. Quite an amount of excrement. Urine stains and quite copious traces of vaginal secretion. So, it excites you to wear soiled knickers – you are a dirty lady, and an ideal subject for my treatment.

To my shame I had to answer in detail how my knickers became soiled, and I blushed deeply as I gave my account of the number of times I urinated and masturbated. It was especially embarrassing to describe my masturbating, how many finger I used and where I touched myself. The doctor humiliated me yet more as she told me to put them back on instructed me to demonstrate how I masturbate in my already soiled knickers.

As I gingerly stepped backed into them and drew them up I noticed they were now cold and clammy they were, particularly when I pulled up and smoothed the material onto bald mound. Surprisingly, the cold dampness against my vulva and sheer nastiness of the act set off a thrill of excitement. Against all the revulsion that my normal feelings directed, I felt myself getting wet. I was ashamed at lust, even more having to display it, but I couldn’t help but I slip a hand inside and eased my fingers between my labia to open the way deep into my womanhood. Even worse I could not help myself as I spread my legs and jammed four fingers of one hand into me at the same time as I used the thumb and forefinger of my other hand to pinch hard my engorged clit. Much as I wanted to resist so as not to exhibit my craving, I was completely captive of my depraved urges. My climax was almost immediate and my knickers were flooded anew.

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