Robin stood staring out the window of the maternity ward,
watching the huge snowflakes blowing past the window. Already,
she had put in three hours of overtime, since the evening shift
was so slow getting in. Traffic crawled, when it moved at all.
A bus, full of standees, took five minutes to go one block.
“Robin, how are you going to get home?”

“Oh, Dr. Kreuzer. I can’t possibly get home. It takes an hour
when the weather is clear. I guess I’ll just sleep in a chair
somewhere.”

“Then you’d be in no shape to work tomorrow. Why don’t you come
home with me? I only live two and a half blocks from here.
Don’t shake your head, no. Get your coat and come with me.”

On a side street, Dr. Kreuzer’s place was a renovated century-old
brick building. The ground floor display windows were covered on
the inside with heavy drapes and on the outside with iron bars.
The door had a brass plate: Katherine Kreuzer, M.D., gynecology
and obstetrics. As they entered, a big dog, a Weimaraner with
short gray hair and eyes like opals, bounded up and started
nuzzling Dr. Kreuzer. “This is Clem, my companion and guard dog.”
Downstairs, there were waiting rooms and offices and examination
rooms. Upstairs was a spacious loft- style apartment. “It’s
beautiful, Dr. Kreuzer. It’s really nice.” “Now, Robin, you
look cold and wet. Here’s a robe you can wear. There’s the
bathroom, with fresh towels and anything else you will need. Help
yourself to a new toothbrush. I need to take Clem outside to do
his business, so you just take a nice long hot bath. You can
wash out your things and hang them on the rack over the hot air
vent. That way, you will have clean underwear for tomorrow. Go
on, and take your time.”

The bathroom was larger than Robin’s rented room, with a tile
floor and central drain, a wash bowl, toilet, bidet, a large
glassed-in shower with multiple heads, and a big tub with
“whirlpool” jets. There were several large mirrors. Robin took
a long, relaxing bath, and watched herself in the mirrors as she
dried herself with thick, luxurious towels. She washed her
undies and socks, and her white nylon uniform slacks, too, since
they’d been splashed with gray slush by a passing car. She wiped
her white shoes as best she could and combed out her long, blonde
hair. She looked at the bidet next to the toilet; she had never
seen one in an apartment before. The dressing gown was rather
clingy, and short. Surely it wouldn’t have fit Dr. Kreuzer, who
stood two inches taller than Robin and must have weighed half
again as much. To see them together, the doctor might have been
Robin’s mother, or older sister, for she probably wasn’t much
over 30. She, too, had blonde hair and blue eyes. When Robin
emerged from the bathroom, the apartment was transformed. It was
lit by candles.

A table was set for two with hot soup, french bread and cheese,
and glasses of red wine. Soft instrumental music played in the
background. The doctor was also in a bathrobe, with Clem’s head
resting on her lap. She held up her glass and said, “Come sit
with me, Robin, and chow down.”

The meal was delicious, though the wine was very powerful. After
three glasses, Robin felt quite at ease and a little tipsy. The
doctor cleared the table and sat, looking at Robin. Robin felt a
bit embarrassed. “Doctor, you seem to be staring at me.” The
doctor shifted in her seat. Her robe gaped open a bit,
displaying her cleavage. Robin thought she was very attractive
and wondered why she was still unmarried. “Robin, of course I was
staring. You are a very pretty girl… young woman. You have
particularly pretty breasts. A C-cup, right.” “Yes.” “On a
girl as slender as you are, they are quite impressive. You must
have men asking you out all the time, right?” “No. Well, yes,
but I seldom say yes.” “You have a steady boy friend.” “Oh, no.
No, I don’t date much. There was school, and now my job.” “I
understand. As a women’s physician, I have a professional
interest in breasts. Would you mind showing me yours?” “Uh, I
suppose that would be OK.”

The doctor got up and went to Robin, who stood up. The doctor
undid the belt of the robe and pulled the front open and off
Robin’s shoulders, exposing her breasts. Robin just stood there,
confused. “Oh, yes, simply beautiful. You must let me take
pictures.” In seconds, Robin found herself stark naked. “Just
stand over by that white wall, while I get my camera. You
needn’t worry. I’ll safeguard your privacy. In fact, just to be
sure that no one will recognize you, you can put your hands over
your face.” Robin placed an open hand each side of her nose,
covering her eyes. “That’s right. Raise your elbows a bit,
please.” She heard the doctor moving around, taking a couple
dozen shots from various angles. “Yes, very nice. Thank you,
Robin. I have one more request. You won’t mind, will you?” “I
guess not. You’ve been very nice to me. The soup was
delicious.” “I just want to make a plaster cast of your breasts.
It won’t hurt a bit. OK?” “Well…OK.” “I’ll just run
downstairs for a moment to get some things.”

The doctor brought up a box of plaster and such and then a low
bench, like a piano bench, and a padded board. She led Robin
into the bathroom and had her kneel down on the padded board in
front of the bench. “There, now just put your head on the seat of
the bench, so your beautiful breasts can hang free. Now, you
can’t move while the plaster is setting, so you won’t mind if I
just make sure.” Robin found her arms strapped to the bench with
“Velcro” and her knees similarly fastened two feet apart to the
padded board, so she really couldn’t move much. “Now, we’ll have
to oil your skin, so the plaster doesn’t stick.” Reaching around
Robin’s slender body, the doctor used her hands to rub baby oil
over Robin’s breasts. The nipples hardened, and the doctor
seemed to pay particular attention to them. “There, that didn’t
hurt, did it?” “Not at all.” “You rather liked it, didn’t you,
Robin.” “Yes.” “Now, breathe in shallow breaths, so your ribs
don’t move.” Robin tried. The doctor took surgical gauze and
soaked it in plaster. She wound the gauze around Robin’s upper
body, from her arm pits to her floating ribs, enclosing her
breasts in thick plaster. The plaster, as it set, generated
considerable heat, which Robin found rather exciting, as it
“cooked” her breasts. The doctor talked softly to her as the
plaster set, and the doctor’s finger tips roamed over the bare
skin of Robin’s body, over her rump and down the insides of her
thighs.

She felt the doctor’s fingers sliding along her bare bottom, and
feeling between her legs. A finger tip parted her hairy labia
and slid forward, parting Robin’s inner labia. It came to rest
on the little ridge beyond the juncture of the thin inner lips.
The doctor pressed lightly. Robin wriggled. The doctor moved
her finger tip from side to side, rolling the hidden organ below.
“Eewww!” squealed Robin. “That feels funny.” “You’ve never
done that to yourself?” “Not like that.” The doctor expertly
fingered Robin’s hooded clitoris, until Robin writhed and panted.
“Naughty girl! You’ll ruin the cast,” the doctor scolded, as she
spanked Robin’s right buttock, leaving a pink hand print. She
repeated with a slap to the other buttock. “Oww!” “Then keep
still.” Robin tried, but she was overwhelmed by the doctor’s
manipulation of the hidden clitoris, and her spanking and
scolding. Suddenly, Robin shuddered with an orgasm, more intense
and exciting than anything she had experienced when she had
surreptitiously fingered her panties. “Oh, my goodness!” Robin
said, after she had recovered from the novel experience.

“I think the plaster has set sufficiently,” said the doctor. She
unzipped the Velcro straps that bound Robin and helped her to
sit up on the toilet seat, still a bit shaky from the mighty
orgasm. She cut the cast up sides and pulled the rigid gauze
away, noting approvingly that the plaster seemed to have
faithfully represented the beautiful breasts. “Well, we have to
wash that oil off you. Come, get in the shower with me.” The
doctor soaped Robin’s chest and used her hands to scrub the oil
away. Robin squirmed and made incoherent noises as her breasts
were squeezed and stroked. The doctor took one of the special
shower heads on a hose and washed away the soap at close range,
the pulsating water teasing Robin’s breasts. Then Robin’s pubic
region was soaped and the doctor rinsed Robin’s vulva with a
powerful pulsating jet of body-temperature water. Robin squealed
and tried to pull away, but the doctor backed her into a corner
and trapped her with the pressure of her body, breast to breast.
In seconds, it seemed, the pulsing water, blasting against
Robin’s hooded clitoris, pushed Robin over the edge. “Oh, oh, Oh
God!” she cried over and over again, until she collapsed in the
doctor’s arms.

The doctor carried a semiconscious, unresisting Robin to the big
four poster bed and put her on her back. Robin was hardly
recovering when she realized that the doctor was between Robin’s
knees, and she was licking Robin’s vulva. Those delicious
tingles radiated from Robin’s swollen clitoris, making Robin
thrash and moan. Yet another overwhelming orgasm drained her
strength. This time, when Robin regained her senses, she found
she was between the doctor’s knees, and the doctor said, “Now
it’s your turn to do me.” Robin had never “done” a woman, but
under the circumstances she couldn’t refuse. The doctor lay
back, her legs spread, and Robin tried to imitate her. Fresh
from the shower, the scent of sex was muted. The doctor’s pubes
were hairless, and her labia minora, which were inconspicuous in
Robin’s vulva, stood out between the labia majora and looked, to
Robin’s eye, like slices of luncheon meat. Robin parted the lips
and saw that, unlike her own smooth vulva, there was a tent-like
fold of flesh at the apex of the inner lips and a little nubbin,
like a pencil eraser. Gingerly, Robin touched the thing.
“Careful, girl. That’s very sensitive. Use your tongue.” Robin
did as she was told, until the doctor writhed and ejaculated in
Robin’s face. “That was good, girl. Go wash your face and come
to bed.” They slept side by side, skin to skin.

After breakfast, Robin showered and got dressed in her now dry
uniform. Sober now, she reflected on what had happened last
night, and the special relationship that she supposed must exist
after such unexpected intimacy. She didn’t think of her being in
love with Dr. Kreuzer. It never occurred to Robin that she might
prefer women — she dearly wanted to be near her. “I’ll drive
you to the hospital,” said the doctor, “as the sidewalks aren’t
clear of snow yet. I’d like you to come over here after work and
have supper with me. OK?” “Uh, OK, Doctor. Yes, I’d like
that.”

That evening, over small steaks, asparagus, and a spinach salad,
Dr. Kreuzer put forth a proposal. “Robin, would you like to live
here with me and Clem?” “I think that would be nice. I don’t
think I could afford my share of the rent, though.” “Oh, I’ll
pay for the rent and provide you with food, when we are here
together. You can pay for your keep in services.” “Services?”
“Well, I’ll be in charge, and I expect you will help around the
house, washing dishes, things like that. When you are off work,
and I have patients here at my office, you could help out as my
office nurse. Would that be all right?” “Sure, I guess so.”
“After all, you will save a couple of hours a day by not having
to take a bus to work. It’s not as if you won’t have time.”
“Yes, doctor, that makes sense.” “As far as the Internal Revenue
Service is concerned, you won’t be an employee, but I expect to
be treated respectfully, as your boss, right? You will always
address me as doctor and you’ll do what I say.” “OK.” “If you
misbehave or disobey, I reserve the right to punish you.
Understood?” Robin wondered what that might involve, another
spanking,perhaps, with another wonderful orgasm. “OK, doctor,
I’ll be good.” “Here, sign this contract.” Robin scanned the
typed document. “It says I will grant you access to my body at
any time.” “Of course. I can’t ask for your consent every time I
want to examine you for disease, or spank you for misbehaving.”
“Um, OK.” Robin signed two copies. The doctor signed one and
gave it to Robin. “We have time. Why don’t I drive you to your
room, and you can get your things and give notice that you are
leaving. You don’t have a lease, do you?” “No.” By midnight,
Robin was all moved in. All that remained was the change of
address cards.

“Before we go to bed, we’ll take a shower together,” said the
doctor. Robin could not object. They soaped each other and
rinsed each other. The doctor took one of the showers on a hose
and unscrewed the head, so a solid stream of water shot forth.
She pushed Robin into a corner and held her there with the
pressure of her body against Robin’s. She directed the stream of
water at the apex of Robin’s labia, so the water gushed through
her vulva like a raging river through a canyon. Robin struggled
and writhed and moaned and screamed as clitoral orgasms came one
after another. When the doctor finally stopped, Robin was too
spent to resist. The doctor laid her on the floor and lathered
Robin’s pubic hair. With a razor, she removed Robin’s sparse,
blonde pubic hair, leaving her soft labia as hairless as her
breasts. The doctor carried her to bed, put her on her back, and
spread her legs. She knelt between Robin’s knees and put her
lips against the invisible clitoris, sucking gently. Robin moaned
and wriggled and again returned the favor, licking and sucking
the doctor. Robin slept well. Before breakfast, the doctor
taught Robin about breast sucking. Again they ate in the nude,
and before Robin left for work, the doctor gave her her first
enema and inserted a slender rubber device into Robin’s anus.
“That, girl, is to remind you, all day, that you belong to me
now. Can you do that?” “Yes, doctor, whatever you want.”

All day, Robin was aware of that symbol of her submission to the
will of Dr. Kreuzer. She knew there was no good reason for the
anal plug, except as a reminder of her… humiliation at the
hands of the older woman. As she worked, she was aware of it.
When, at lunchtime, she was able to sit, she was even more aware
of it. Once, in the nurses’ toilet, she pulled it most of the
way out, but then thought better of it and pushed it back in.
She worked it in and out, back and forth, noting the strange
sensation, not unpleasant, as it teased her anus. At one point,
if felt as if she should have a bowel movement, but of course
there was no fecal matter to expel.

After work, the doctor said, “Leave your uniform on, girl. I’ll
need you as receptionist tonight. Robin greeted a middle-aged
woman, Mrs. Kelly, who arrived at the office, and Robin recorded
that she was on time for her appointment. As instructed, Robin
had the woman disrobe and put on one of those ridiculous
disposable paper gowns. She led her into an examining room and
had her lie on a table, with her feet in the stirrups. Robin had
to stand by as Dr. Kreuzer performed a gynecological examination.
“Now, Mrs. Kelly, you have been married for six months now, after
years of being divorced. You say that your second marriage isn’t
as satisfactory as your first.” “Yes, doctor.” “You have been
taking the Premarin, the hormone replacement therapy I
prescribed. I can see that the health of your genital tissues
has improved. You find you are not as dry down there, right?”
“Well, I suppose so, doctor, but still… I mean our bed time
activities, they… well.” “Your husband can’t satisfy you?”
“It’s not his fault. He tries. But…well, it’s not very
exciting.” “When was the last time you had a good orgasm?” “Oh,
ten years ago.” “Well, Mrs. Kelly, I don’t see any organic
problem that would account for that. You are not ill. Wait here
for a while, while I arrange for my nurse to give you some
treatment.” She took Robin aside and gave her some orders.

“No, Doctor, I couldn’t,” protested Robin. “You do not say no to
my orders, girl. You have earned yourself a spanking for that,
and if you do not do as I say, a more severe punishment.” “Yes,
Doctor.” Robin went back to the examining room and put straps
around Mrs. Kelly’s feet, locking them in the stirrups, and
passed a strap around her upper body and arms, so she could not
sit up. She put on surgical rubber gloves. She tore away part
of the gown that was in the way and wet a sponge with fluid. She
sponged off Mrs. Kelly’s vulva, first outside and then, with the
outer lips held apart, she sponged off the pink mucous membranes.
“I don’t understand,” said Mrs. Kelly. “Shhh. I’m only
following the doctor’s orders.” Robin inserted one gloved finger
into Mrs. Kelly’s vagina, curling her finger toward the pubic
arch and feeling for the G-spot. With the fingers of her other
hand, she parted the woman’s hairy outer labia, holding a sheet
of thin rubber stretched across the clitoral region. With both
hands busy, Robin had to use her tongue and lips, pressing and
sucking on the rubber membrane, along with two fingers on the
G-spot, to stimulate Mrs. Kelly to an orgasm. In few minutes the
patient was yelling, “Oh, God, that’s it. Oh, that’s wonderful!
Oh, don’t stop.”

The doctor entered the room and said, “Well, Mrs. Kelly, are you
feeling better?” “Oh, yes, much better. Better than I have in
ten years.” “Do you think you will require any follow-up
treatment, or is your problem cured?” “Oh, doctor, it’s so much
better, but I do think I’d better come back again, soon.” Dr.
Kreuzer turned to Robin and said, “See if you can make another
evening appointment for Mrs. Kelly, next week, if there’s an
opening.” “Yes, doctor.”

There was another patient that evening, a twelve year old girl,
Janet, who was brought in by her mother, Mrs. Pasquali. Taking
the doctor aside, the mother said, in a loud whisper, “Janet, my
daughter, she…she keeps playing with herself. I catch her in
strange places, like behind an arm chair or in the basement, with
her hand between her legs. You know, rubbing the crotch of her
panties.” “You want me to treat her for that?” “Well, it is
unnatural. She’s only twelve. It’s… perverted what she’s
doing.” “I’ll examine her, Mrs. Pasquali, to see if there is
anything wrong, a vaginal infection or something like that that
would make her uncomfortable. You know, an itch that she has to
scratch or something like that. Is that what you want?” “Yes,
doctor, whatever it takes to make her stop.” “Well, if you will
please wait in the waiting room, I’ll examine Janet. My nurse
will give you some paperwork and a medical history questionnaire
to fill out.”

Janet looked a little frightened as Robin led her into the
examination room. “Janet, I’m Dr. Kreuzer, and this is my nurse
Robin. I’m going to have to examine your body, all right? Ok,
then would you please take off all your clothes?” Robin folded
them and put them aside as the girl took off everything but her
socks. She noted that Janet was on the threshold of maturity.
Her nipples extended from puffy areolae, with not much fatty
breast tissue behind them, but that would be only a matter of
time. The girlish slit between Janet’s legs had barely a fuzz of
pubic hair. The doctor looked in her ears and down her throat and
listened to her chest and did all the other standard things.
Then, as the girl sat on the edge of the examination table, the
doctor said, “Janet please lie back and raise your knees. That’s
the way. I’m going to look between your legs, all right? Good.
Have you ever had blood come from your slit, what’s called your
vulva? No? Well, someday you will see some blood. Don’t worry
about it. I’ll have Nurse Robin give you a little booklet that
explains everything, OK?” Then, to Robin, she said, “Her hymen
is present, quite intact. I don’t think a vaginal examination is
needed.” To Janet: “Janet, your mother says you touch yourself
down there. Is that right? Yes? Would you show me how you
touch yourself?” Janet hesitated and then reached down between
her legs and sort of pressed on her puffy little labia. “I know
you haven’t been putting anything inside there, and that’s good.
Why do you rub yourself there?” Janet shook her head but said
nothing. “Does it feel good to touch yourself there?”

Janet nodded. “Your mother doesn’t like to see you do that. Of
course, it does feel good, but you need to touch yourself when
your mother isn’t watching. You know, if you know how, you can do
that.” Janet grinned. “First, Janet, I want you to cross your
legs and squeeze.” Janet did that. “Does that feel good?”

“Sort of. Not as good as when I rub.” “Here, give me your hand.
Extend your first finger. Good.” Gently, the doctor parted her
legs and guided Janet’s finger tip between her girlish labia.
Slowly, she guided the finger toward the clitoris. “Does that
feel good?” “Mmm. Yes.” “You practice a while and see if you
can’t make it feel better.” Robin and the doctor watched as the
girl explored and experimented, smiling when she found how good
it could feel. “Now, Janet, it’s OK for you to do that when you
are alone, and your mother won’t find out, perhaps in bed. Wash
you hands, first, and afterward. If you are comfortable with it,
you can do it with one of your girl friends, or even do it to
each other. But I want you to remember; you must never do that
with a boy or let him do it to you, until you are married. Boys
can hurt you, even if they don’t mean it. Never let one see
between your legs or touch you there, OK?” “Yes, Doctor.”
“Robin, do you think you could do as you did with Mrs. Kelly”
“Doctor, she’s only… of course, Doctor, if you order it.” The
doctor left the room, and Robin said, “Janet, I’m going to show
you something only another girl can do, OK? You can use your
fingers alone, but this is special. You tell me if you like it.”

Robin didn’t bother with the sponge or the rubber sheet; she
wasn’t afraid of infection. Very gently, she parted Janet’s labia
and applied her tongue to the tiny nubbin of her clit. “Oh, yes,
Nurse Robin, that’s nice!” Robin continued, and in five minutes
or less, Janet experienced the first orgasm of her young life.
“Oh, thank you. That’s wonderful.” Robin stood up straight and
said, “Remember, Janet. Wash your hands. Don’t get caught.
Don’t let boys touch you there. OK?” “Yes, I’ll remember.”
“OK, get dressed now.” When Robin let Janet out to her mother in
the waiting room, Dr. Kreuzer explained, “Mrs. Pasquali, your
daughter seems to be in excellent health. I’ve explained to her
that if she wants to stay healthy she shouldn’t rub her panties.
That’s dirty. She says she understands, and you won’t see her
doing it any more.”

Back upstairs, Robin began to undress and get ready for bed. The
doctor watched her, until Robin was naked. “Robin,” she said,
“you remember that I promised you punishment.” “Yes, Doctor.”
“Remove the object from your anus and give yourself a soapy
enema, to clean yourself out.” Somewhat reluctantly, Robin
prepared a bag of warm, soapy water. She had no interest in
“scat”, and she was not anally oriented. For her, an enema was
punishment. The doctor watched her, making her continue until the
water she expelled into the toilet was clear and clean. Doctor
Kreuzer took a rubber glove and put the opening over a shower
hose, fastening it with a rubber band. She lubricated Robin’s
anus and inserted the hose and glove, as Robin stood with her
hands on her knees. Slowly, hot water flowed into the glove. It
unfolded and stretched and the fingers made their way deeper and
deeper into Robin’s rectum. “Getting ass-fucked with a glove is a
lot easier on you than having some man inside you. Consider
yourself lucky.” The doctor made sure the glove was tied shut,
leakproof, and then she pushed the end past the anal sphincter
and replaced the plug Robin had worn all day. “I know you feel
full and want to expel it, but you will hold it in until morning,
when I tell you you can pass it. Understand?” “Yes, Doctor.”
“Now, go bend over the bed.” Robin pressed her breasts against
the sheet and raised her rump as she stood beside the bed. The
doctor used a hairbrush, the smooth back striking the ass cheeks
alternately. The warm mass in Robin’s rectum was jarred with
each blow, exciting her perineal nerve, which serves the inner
thighs, the vulva and vagina, and the anal region. The water in
her rectum pushed the rectal walls against her vaginal walls,
pressing on the G- spot.

On the sixteenth swat, Robin shook with an orgasm. “That’s
enough, girl. Get into bed and lick my clit.”

All day at work, Robin was excited just to think of what Dr.
Kreuzer might demand of her, and by supper time Robin was
pressing her thighs together in anticipation. There were no
patients that night, so they had time to play. They ate together
in the nude, and the doctor said, “Robin, you have such a pretty
vulva. I want a cast of it.” “Yes, doctor.” The bench and
padded board were still in the bathroom, and Robin was quickly
strapped down, with her knees spread and her rump upthrust. Of
course she must be oiled, and she nearly had an orgasm just
feeling the doctor’s oily hands sliding over her belly and labia
and perineum, all the way up over the anus. Then came the
plaster bandages, almost like rigid thong panties, and a long
wait while the warm plaster set. The doctor massaged Robin’s
breasts while they waited, teasing her to the brink of an orgasm
but not over the edge.

When the doctor finally cut the plaster panties off and washed
away the oily residue, she did not release Robin. “I have a treat
for you, Robin.” She spread a towel over Robin’s back. Then she
took a small plastic squeeze bottle. The label read, “Eau d’
Estrus”, manufactured by Synbiotics, of Malvern, PA., a
veterinarians’ supply company. The doctor sprayed a single
squirt into Robin’s vulva. She opened the door and Clem bounded
into the bathroom. Robin could see in one of the mirrors that
Clem’s penis, the size and shape of a carrot and bright pink,
suddenly stood forth six or eight inches, with a golf-ball sized
lump at the base. Clem instantly mounted Robin, his head behind
hers, his forelegs grasping her body over the protective towel.