u/PositiveLoose8744

Recently, I had the unfortunate experience of experiencing severe pain during penetrative sex. The circumstances that led to this encounter and the resulting injury were so embarrassing, that I could not bring myself to make an appointment with my family doctor to get it checked out. So instead I searched for another clinic online.

I live in a large city so there were lots of options to choose from, too many, actually. I quickly was overwhelmed with options. Looking through reviews didn't help. For every glowing review, there was a negative one. It was enough to make my head spin.

I even considered dropping the whole thing entirely, since I knew I likely just needed to take a break from having penetrative sex for a while, and things would fix themselves on their own. But later that night, I felt myself becoming more and more restless.

I tried giving myself some relief through masturbating, honestly but I have never been very good at it. I always end up feeling more horny and frustrated afterwards. Especially if I could only stimulate my clit, which was my only option atm. But even still, I found myself on my bed, legs up and open in the air while I rubbed my clit to various graphic porn gifs. I just couldn't get myself to stop!

While panting and moaning, I noticed an ad that kept popping up on side bars of the various websites I was scrolling through. Instead of the usual women being graphically debased in some enticing way, it was cold and clinical. It was an ad for a female sexual health clinic in my city.

I clicked through and it was a rather normal looking clinic, just like the others I had seen. It seemed odd that a cold website like this would be posting ads on the hot and wet side of the internet. I was intrigued.

I clicked around and found the testimonials page. There were pages and pages of stories of their past clients who had found immense relief from the clinic's methods and how their lives had improved as a result. They talked of the doctor's no-nonsense approach, how no cloying euphemisms were used, how they didn't baby you through the process and instead kept you on track, making sure you kept doing the needed work. None of them explained what this so-called work was, but since my legs were still up in the air and my cunt was pulsing needily, I figured that it had to be better than enduring one more night of this. I desperately needed the relief they were promising . So with trembling, slick hands, I filled out the new patient request form and hit the submit button.

The rest of the night was a mess, but I somehow endured without opening up tinder and making another really bad decision. When I woke up I was greeted with a new email from the clinic. They had reviewed my application and accepted it, along with asking if I could come in on Friday for an appointment. I looked at the date and whimpered. It was only Monday, could I trust myself to behave and not make any bad decisions? For an entire work week? During the day I did okay, I had a white collar job, a flat to take of and friends to see. But the nights lately, they had been so bad. My clit was still throbbing from last night's pathetic attempt at self relief.

So instead I phoned the clinic and asked if it was possible to move up my appointment. It was a woman who was on the other end of the phone and she laughed, saying that it wasn't the first time a new patient had asked to be brought in earlier. And luckily, they could squeeze me in today after regular clinic hours were over.

I accepted the appointment and spent the rest of the day on edge. My heart raced as I cleaned myself, making sure everything was freshly shaved and moisterised. I agonized over my outfit choice like I was going on a first date. It was all ridiculous, obviously. These doctors were professionals and my case apparently wasn’t even that uncommon. I probably wouldn’t even be remembered after I left the clinic, I wouldn't leave an impression. I had to keep repeating this to myself all day, my mind barely there at work. I even left a bit early, muttering something about not wanting to miss an important appointment. Again, no one noticed me as I quickly and quietly slipped out of the office.

No one noticed, because no one ever noticed me, unless I wanted them too. I kept my clothes loose and baggy, hair long and underscript. Friends growing up had teased me, saying I could be pretty if I wanted too. I think they meant it as a compliment, but had also felt a bit like a threat, so I played it safe. Life had proven over and over again that it was better to blend in than stick out in any way.

So I went into the clinic wearing an oversized sweater and a knee length skirt. I always wore leggings with skirts, even if they were long enough to not need them. Just the thought of being in a skirt with only my panties separating me from the harsh world, set my hairs on end. And now especially, it would be so much worse. My panties were soaked, something I was reminded of with each step as I walked up to the reception desk.

A woman in scrubs with her hair down and her face in a relaxed expression greeted me. She let me know that I didn't have to do anything else but wait in a chair to be called. She also must have noticed that I was quite flustered since she offered to get me some tea. I agreed, not even bothering to ask what kind. I then shuffled to a chair and tried to not squirm too much in it, as my clit needily begged for more friction. I was so distracted by it, that I didn't notice the woman come back. I jumped in my seat a little when she handed me the tea and she laughed again. I wasn't quite sure if it was at or with me, but I focused on drinking the tea as she returned back to the desk. It was some mild floral taste I couldn't place, but I couldn't bear the thought of asking the woman. My face had been flushed when I came in and had only gotten redder, if I asked her a question and she laughed at me again, I wasn’t sure if I could take the embarrassment.

I looked around the waiting room, it was very nondescript, like any other doctors clinic. There wasn't even a coffee table with magazines to read. I could have tried pulling out my phone, but the mug she had given me was quite large. I had to hold it with both hands. So I had to sit quietly with my own racing thoughts as I drank the tea. I hoped I was going to be called sooner rather than later, but the clock ticked away as I waited. I focused on the tea again, there wasn't much stimulating about it, but drinking it did make me feel somewhat calmer. I ended up drinking it quite fast, finishing it when it was still hot.

When I was done, the woman from the desk had appeared by my side again, only this time I didn't jump. She simply praised me for finishing it so quickly and told me the doctor would see me now and go to the open room on the hallway to the left. I complied and I went down the hallway. I noticed an open door at the very end, like the women said. I went in and sat down on the chair. In the room was the normal gynecologist set up. The examination chair had a large presence in the room with its stirrups and various instruments for examination. My pussy clenched involuntarily at the memory of past painful tests and exams. Only my inner bruising didn't like that and I felt a burning sensation in my lower abdomen.

The door opened as the pain subsided. There was a different woman in scrubs this time and she quickly rattled out orders for me to follow. I practically jumped out of my chair so she could begin the exam. My sweater had to be removed so she could take my blood pressure and I felt a wave of relief as the cool air hit my skin. Between the blushing and the tea, I had gotten so hot and sweaty, I hoped that the nurse couldn't smell me. She then instructed me to remove all my clothes from the waist down and sit up on the exam chair. I hesitated for a moment, expecting her to leave the room so I could change but she didn't. She instead went to a cabinet and opened it, starting to gather supplies.

I awkwardly removed the rest of my clothes except the camisole I was wearing under my sweater. Since I always wore baggy tops, I never bothered wearing a bra so my nipples stood at obvious attention through the thin form fitting fabric. I considered putting my sweater back on, but I didn't want to waste anymore of the nurse's time. So I placed myself on the examination chair, my feet in the stirrups. When I was settled the nurse came over to me and quickly set up the rest. A privacy sheet was placed over my bare thighs that when down over my knees, the stirrups were then moved upwards and open so I was spread wide. I felt a bit uneased at how high and open my legs were, it reminded me of the position I was in last night when I had come across the clinic ad in the first place. But I assured myself that this must be normal and I was simply misremembering since it had been so long since I had seen an OB/GYN.

The nurse then left without a word. I wasn't sure if I felt relieved or not by her leaving. She had treated me more like an object but now that I was alone, spread out and exposed my heart started racing again as the reality of the situation had set in. At what I was going to have to say about my situation to the doctor.

Was this really worth making an appointment for? I barely waited 24 hours after the pain began. Wasn't I supposed to wait a few days to see if it got better on its own? What had I been thinking last night, to convince myself that this was a good idea? Was this all really worth it for some vague promise of relief?

My thoughts started spiraling and my pussy clenched again. Again I was treated to more burning pain. I whimpered in the chair pathetically. At least the cold air on my cunt had begun to cool it down. My clit, which had been throbbing greedily in my soaked panties, was now retreating back to a less aroused state. I took a few deep breaths and welcomed the cold air. At least it was giving me some kind of relief.

But again the clock continued to tick and relief started to turn into discomfort. Shouldn't the doctor be here by now? If I was going to be made to wait, should it have been on the normal chair? I tried to read the clock, but it was on the wall behind me so I could not see it. I suppose I could move my legs to check it or just to close my legs for warmth, but the nurse had told me to wait in this position. So I waited obediently as time ticked by.

I suppose I could have counted the seconds to tell how much time passed, but my mind was too scattered. I thought about my life lately and all the bad choices I had made to put me in this position in the first place. My cheeks burned in shame as my cunt shrank from the discomfort from the cold. If I wasnt so wet to begin with, my pussy wouldnt be so cold from the fridged air. I started scolding myself internally for my behavior, that this is exactly what I deserved.

Then the door opened and I heard footsteps enter. I knew it was a man even without looking, so I kept my eyes downcast in shame. The other women had an air of authority to them, but it was mild, like a teacher. Even without looking at the man, I felt small and humbled, like I was waiting outside the principal's office. Even when he asked for my name, I didn't look up as I mumbled my reply. He didn't give me his name in return and simply sat down on the stool in between my legs.

“Why have you come in for an exam today?” He asked.

My pussy clenched again, there was more burning. I bit my bottom lip to stop from gasping. “I have been having pain in my…..well I think It is my G-spot, but I am not really quite sure.”

“What kind of pain?”

“A burning kind. It is not like super bad right now, it was worse on the weekend but it uh still hurts.”

There was a pause, before he asked in a formal tone. “How was it worse on the weekend?”

“Well, uh” I hesitated, this next part was going to be the worst of it, so might as well get it over with. “I was having sex, like penetrative sex with some guy and I notice it started to hurt like super bad. I tried to ignore it at first, but eventually it got so bad I had to ask him to stop and well, he like wasnt super happy about it so I had to- uh nevermind. Point is that it has been hurting at lot since then”

More silence before the sound of latex gloves being put on filed the air. “Lets take a look then.”

I breathed a sign of relief that the questions were finally over. The exam would not take long and I would be out of here soon. It would be like none of this happened. Hopefully.

I felt a gloved finger enter me, it deftly moved up and forward to my bruised area. He touched it so softly it throbbed instead of burned. I had to stop myself from clenching on to him. While I was bruised, his finger was warm and my cunt was desperate for something warm to fill it. My whole body went taunt from the strain.

“It is not your g-spot.” He said factually, like he was talking about math equations rather than my throbbing pussy. “It is your cervix.”

“My cervix?" I blink in confusion. “But they guy wasnt very…I mean isn't that pretty far back in there?”

“It depends on what part of your cycle you are in.” His finger moved inside me again, gathering a better lay of the land. “When you finish your ovulation, the cervix drops lower in preparation for your period, to release the egg. Or to shed it and the uterus lining, if you were not impregnated.”

“Oh that makes sense I guess.” I say, trying to distract myself from how both painful and pleasurably it was to have his finger inside me. “I am PMSing now or at least I should be based on my period calendar.”

“What do you mean by should be?” His finger stopped moving again resting on the bruised area, my cervix, I guess.

“Oh nothing really, just that I havent really…..havent really been having normal hormone cycles lately” I say breathier than I would like. My cervix throbbed dully against his finger. “But is normal I think. I heard that women in their 30s are more like sexually open or something. So it is probably no big deal right?”

“What are the changes?”

I squirm in my set and I have to stop myself from whimpering. His finger inside me is driving me crazy. If he notices, he doesn't seem to care. “Well uh, my sex drive has really been…increasing lately.’

“How much has it increased?”

I blink. Was this line of questioning really necessary? Then again, I was the one who brought it up. Surely, he was just being diligent. “Noneexistante to uh a lot.”

“Define a lot.”

I feel the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. “Well, I uh think about it…I think about it a lot.”

“What is it?”

I almost gasp. He really doesn't need me to say it out loud, does he? “Having sex.”

“You are going to have to be more specific.” He withdrew his finger from my cunt and I feel it clench hopelessly after him, beckoning him back inside. I am punished with burning for my wantonness. “There are lots of ways to have sex. Some people don't even think about themselves when they fantasize about having sex. This is common in women especially. Are you a part of these fantasies?”

I bit the inside of my check. I ferl so shameful that I want to die. “Yes.” I finally admit. “I am fantasizing about myself having sex.”

“With who?”

I shut my eyes, as if that helps with the shame. It doesn’t. “With men, always men. Just…I dont know various men. It barely matters who. A coworker at work, a retail person, someone I saw on the train. Men that don't exist.” I squirm in my seat again, I can feel the wetness start to build up inside me again as my rapidly beat heart confusing my shame for arousal. “Its like it doesnt matter, I just want to have sex with men.”

There is a pause. “And judging from the state you are in, it's safe to assume that you have been acting out on this desire?”

My face burns, hell, my whole body burns. His tone is so formal but I swear he sounds almost amused. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

My eyes open in shock, I look over at him, but due to how high my legs are, I cant actually see him because of the privacy blanket. Would I even be able to look at him in the eye if I could? “Yes, I have been having lots of sex with men recently because….because I just cant seem to stop myself!”

“You said men plural. How many have you had sex with?”

“Well, I uh…uh I…” I blink back tears of frustration and shame. “I don't know, but it has been a lot.”

“Intereting.” There is a pause and the sound of movement. With no warning, I feel a speculum enter me. Its cold metal is jarring against my wet heat. “How many men did you have sex with before your period of hyper arousal started?”

“Just one.” I say before quickly adding “And I was never really that sexual with him beforehand.”

“He must have appreciated the change.” He put two fingers inside me, resting them back on the bruise. It throbbed. “Or did until it became too much.”

I let out a nervous laugh. My head is spinning from the conversation. I feel like I have no idea what is and isn't appropriate, what is up and what is down. “Yeah, I cheated on him, uh, a few times before I realized that this wasn’t going away easily.“

“Did you cheat on him with one person or several?”

“Several.” I say with almost relief. Was this what confession at church feel like? “I only ever sleep with a guy once before moving on.”

“Why?” His fingers twitch, accidentally I am sure, but my cunt swells in response. “Generally women are known for taking a long time to pick a bed mate. Seems like a waste of effort to mate with them just once.”

“Oh, I was not putting a lot of thought into it.” I say with another laugh. It sounds more manic than nervous. “I was really going for the quickest hits possible because I was just so horny, I couldn't stop myself. I was having sex with guys I would have never looked at before. I was letting total strangers do things to me I would have never done with my boyfriend before this period of hyper arousal started.” I pause for a second, feeling the mania drain out of me. “None of them wanted to even look at me after they were done with me. I don't blame them. I can barely look at myself in the mirror anymore.”

There was a longer pause this time. My cunt throbbing against his fingers. I didnt even care anymore. He already knew what a useless whore I was. What was the point of even trying to hide it anymore.

Finally he broke the silence and spoke. “Why do you feel so ashamed of your sexual desires?”

I bristle at the question. “How can I not? I cheated on my boyfriend, dumped him and have been fucking anyone who would have me.”

“But do you feel ashamed of your actions because you actually feel ashamed of them, or do you merely think you should feel ashamed of them?”

His question gives me pause. “I am not sure I know the difference.”

“Being in a state of hyper arousal is neutral. Even acting on it is neutral. Its clear the men you have been fucking have been enjoying themselves and you obviously do to. You have even been enjoying telling me all about. You have been getting wetter by the second since I came in. Your labia is flushed and keeps fluttering to get even the smallest amount of friction and your clitorous is fully erect.” He moved his thumb so it gently touched my folds.

“Hmmm!” I whimper as my hips buck forward automatically from his touch. I was rewarded with his thumb hitting my clit, sending a wave of pleasure thru my body at the same time as my cunt clenched around his fingers. The pain was as strong as the pleasure.

“That is what I thought.” He says it confidently and I feel small because of it. “You have turned a routine exam into humiliation theater for your sexual gratification and you don't even realize it.” His thumb starts to move in a slow circle around my swollen clit. “Your ego is trying as hard as it can to deny your nature, so your sex drive is increasing to compensate for it. This way you can feel like you are out of control. And if you're out of control then it isn't your fault you are acting out. It is a way for you to get out of responsibility.”

“But I do feel bad!” I exclaim between panting. His thumb feels so good against my clit. I try to keep my hips still, but I can't. They are moving against him to get more pressure. “I feel so bad for acting like this. I feel like a useless slut!”

His thumb pauses before sending a swift swipe over my clit. “Is useless really the right word for how you are acting? Men have clearly found a use for you.”

I throw my head back and moan. My cunt is so wet I can feel my juices start to dribble down towards my ass.

“Do you feel useful as they use your body for their sexual pleasure?” He swipes my clit a few more times, each one causing me to moan. “Does it feel right? Like it is your purpose?”

“Yes!” I cry out through gritted teeth. “It feels so fuckig good to be used. Like I am just a thing to be used by men. I can't get enough of it. I can't stop.”

“You are displacing.” He says as his thumb goes back to circling my clit. “By focusing on pleasing random men sexually you don't have to face yourself and your sexual desires. You get sexual satisfaction without your ego having to come to grips with itself, hense your whining about being a greedy little slut. You enjoy feeling bad about it, because as long as you do, you dont have to face the truth of what you actually are."

My teeth grind in protest, but the more he talks, the more aroused I become. I want to fight back, to deny his words. But my body betrays me, it keeps me quiet to hear more.

"Of course, this means you are having sex with low quality men who want to use you as fast as possible to avoid feelings of intimacy. This leads to mediocre encounters where you have to get off on your own humiliation for any satisfaction. And since the satisfaction is short-lived, you have to seek out these men sooner rather than later, creating a self perpetuating cycle.”

I cant bring myself say anything coherent. I can feel the pressure building in my clit, I would do anything for him to make me cum. Anything.

“Yes, you have worked yourself into a nice little trap, haven't you.” He says with dark mirth. “If you hadn't come in early to the clinic, where would you be right now? With your ruined cunt.”

It takes me a few seconds to catch my breath. “On my knees in some dingy bar, sucking as much cock as I possibly could.”

“Not surprising.” His other hand grabs my thigh as the other continues to circle me. “Do you prefer sucking cock or getting your pretty little mouth fucked”

“My mouth, I want it fucked. Please fuck my mouth, I want it so bad, please!” I feel my mouth water, its almost as wet as my gushing cunt. “Please fuck my mouth!”

He lets out a chuckle and swipes my clit again. “That wasn’t what I was asking, but I suppose I should give you some grace given your condition.” He swipes me again. “What else do you want?”

“I want to cum!” My hips are lifting up from the chair to push back into him as much as possible. “I want to cum so bad, please it has been so long since- Please just make me cum!”

But then I feel his thumb pull away and I feel his finger push into my bruise. I cry out from the pain.

“It has been so long since what?” His tone is direct and cold, its an order.

“Since a man has made me cum!” I quickly answered, my breath panting. “And my boyfriend he never made, made me feel like this!”

“Not surpirsing.” He says matter of factly. His thumb starts rubbing my clit, fast and hard. “You are humiliating yourself in a doctor's office. You don't even know who I am, you never asked for my name. I could be anyone and you wouldn't care would you? A doctor, a janitor, someone who wandered off the street. Any man would do as long as you got off, right?”

“Yes!” I cry out. I am so fucking close to coming, my knucles are white from gripping the chair. “I’m just a dumb slut, a stupid whore, a needy cunt. Use and abuse me as much as you’d like, just please make me cum!”

Suddenly there is pain as he slaps my thigh and I gasp in surprise. Finally a damn burst within me and I cum on his hand. His fingers are pushed against my bruise and I cum hard and I scream from the dual pain and pleasure. Each is as strong as the other. My eyes are quickly filled with tears as I start to cry, gut wrenching sobs from somewhere deep within me.

The man removes his finger and the speculum. I barely notice as I continue to sob. My legs are adjusted back to their resting position. If I looked I could see him, this man who made me confess absolutely everything, who debased me harder than all the men I had inplusively fucked all together. With the others, it wasn't personal, they hard barely so much as looked at me before they fucked me. But this was personal, so fucking personal. I closed my legs and raised them to my chest. I wasn't just sobbing from the pleasure and the pain. I was sobbing because something had broken in me and there was no turning back.

Time passed as I continued to sob. I heard the man moving around, the sound of gloves being removed, running water, the tap being turned off. It barely registered. Eventually the sobs started to dwindle as I exhausted myself. My face was as wet, sloppy and ruined as my cunt.

Suddenly, there was a masculine hand on my shoulder. I flinched and he just chuckled, reaching down to grab the privacy sheet and using it to clean up my face. “There, there.” He said, tone equal parts comforting and condescending. He brought the paper up to my nose. “Now blow.”

I complied, the last of the liquid in my face removed. He then threw out the paper and grabbed a towel. Gently he opened up my legs and began mopping up my wetness. Again, I complied, I couldn't resist even if I tried, even if I wanted to.

I kept my eyes closed as he cleaned me and kept myself as still as possible. If he wanted to clean me, then he would clean me. If he wanted me to cum, I would cum, if he wanted me in pain, I would be in pain. My feelings on the matter were not important, I simply had to do what I was told. I simply had to be.

“Thats better.” He said with satisfaction. He closed my legs and lifted them up by the ankles with one hand. He raised me up till my ass was exposed and gave it a hard slap.

I gasped at the pain, but did nothing, said nothing. I was nothing, but a body.

“Very good.” He said approvingly as he put me back down. “I see you are starting to internalize your truth.” He released my ankles and started running his hands all over my body. Touching with the grace of a man admiring a luxury car. “Can you tell me what that truth is?”

“That I am an object.” I said simply, my voice barely above a whisper. “And my purpose is to be used by men.”

“That’s a good girl.” He said with relish. He grabbed the sides on my face like a relative about to pinch the cheeks of a rosy child. “Do you want to be used for your purpose?”

“Yes, please.” I find myself saying before I could stop myself. Should what I want be considered at all? But again my eager mouth spoke for me. “I want to be used by you so bad. I will do anything to please you. I want you to feel so good, sir. Please use my body.”

He let out a sign, was he disappointed? I couldn't tell because then he was gently pulling my face forward. I let him pull me from the chair, down on to my knees. His hands still held my face as he aimed me at his crotch.

Instinctively, I started to undo his button and fly. I felt my heart start to race as I felt how hard he was. My mouth opened and watered as I unbuttoned his underwear. I heard chuckle again, muttering about me being good enough and my cunt clenched in pride. Pleasure and pain burned within me as I fished out his cock with my trembling hands. I opened my eyes and beheld him for the first time in all his masculine glory. This was all I needed to see. This was all I ever needed to see.

Gently he pushed his cock into my mouth. I took him all the way to the base and he held me there as his hands moved into my hair. They ran thru it soothingly, causing me to shudder and moan. For the first time, I looked up at him, bright fluorescent lights glaring behind him.

“There is still work to do on breaking you.” His hands then gripped my hair tightly as he began to thrust roughly into my mouth. “But this is a good start.”