Chapter 45: Squirting My Juices in Front of the Doctor...
Surprisingly—or maybe not, to anyone who's heard my story so far—I deliberately chose male doctors for my STD checks. You might ask if it's not embarrassing to get examined by a man every week? What a naive thing to say.
Women judging each other with those contemptuous, belittling stares is far more devastating. Pretend it's just girl talk, and they know your weaknesses better than men do. Unlike guys, they excel at gossiping those flaws into massive scandals that utterly destroy your social face.
Men, on the other hand... they're simple. All they want from me is sex. No reason to ruin my reputation (except for the dirty talk during the act), and no need to demean me to boost their egos.
In fact, the male doctor who spotted traces of yesterday's wild gangbang inside me just gave me a lecherous glance, clearly a bit aroused. Sure, as a person, I felt ashamed when he bluntly asked how many partners I'd had—but if it were a woman, she'd have shot me a look of pure disgust instead of excitement.
That would've made me way more uncomfortable. So a male doctor was actually preferable.
"Hmm... um... and how long did the intercourse last?"
Is this even a necessary medical question? Still, it was the doctor's inquiry, so I had no choice but to answer honestly.
"...Three hours..."
"...Hmm, overly intense sex can irritate the vaginal walls or cervix, raising infection risk. You should really hold back a bit..."
"Y-yes... Doctor..."
...Even if it's professional, admitting to a man that I'd been fucked nonstop for three hours—and spilling it all to the doctor—was so humiliating and shameful I wanted to crawl into a hole. But what was even more mortifying? Feeling that shame turn into arousal.
And—women get wet when aroused, naturally, by design. The problem was the situation. Lying defenseless on the shame chair (exam table), legs splayed wide, speculum inserted and holding my pussy gaping open?
No matter how medically necessary, it's inherently embarrassing. But leaking pussy juice from my spread-wide vagina right in front of the doctor...!!!
Fuck, no...?!
He could see I was sexually excited right in front of him?! And my body's blatant reaction aroused the doctor too—his breathing grew ragged, despite his professional restraint.
Men might be doctors, but women bare their most private, intimate parts to male gynecologists—the ultimate vulnerability. Yet realizing this supposedly 100% professional doctor was getting turned on by my body in real time...
Any normal woman would freak out, sense danger. I felt a twinge of unease too. But...
Why the hell...?
My broken body reacted so vulgarly, blatantly... pussy juice streaming like tears through my speculum-gaped hole, right in front of the doctor.
This wretched flesh of mine was wired to get sexually excited in humiliating, masochistic situations—against my reason. It was my inescapable nature.
I'd only realized I had this masochistic body earlier this year. Thanks to it (?), I could enjoy the endless abuses from countless OP clients. But getting like this during an exam? Too much!
Crazy...! Stop it!
But I was trapped in a vicious cycle. Exposing my shameful parts and confessing my slutty sex life to the doctor → shame → shame arouses me → pussy juice leaks in front of him → more shame from that → even more arousal...
My reactions were beyond control. My whole body flushed visibly, my breathing turning ragged too...
"...Ahem... ahem... Looks like we need a closer inspection. I'll observe your cervix and vaginal walls with the colposcope."
So fucking embarrassing—he'd noticed my reactions and was visibly flustered.
"Y-yes... okay..."
My voice shrank to a squeak, inevitably. I wanted to hide in a mouse hole, but strapped to the table, legs spread defenseless... Covering my face with my hands was the best I could do.
"Ahem! Inserting the colposcope now..."
Seeing my reaction, he grew even more cautious, gently sliding the colposcope into my gaping pussy. The medical monitor showed us both my innermost depths.
"Hmm... Not as bad up close as visually. Some vaginal wall congestion, but mild... Let me go deeper."
"..."
Now I couldn't even respond... just watched the lewd view of my insides with him.
"Here's your cervix. Oh, a bit congested here, but not severe..."
The deeper probe lit up my cervix—the gateway to my womb—like a plump, pinkish donut with a tiny hole in the center. Thankfully, no serious bleeding or trauma, as he said.
"But repeating this intense sex could cause issues. Be careful."
"...Y-yes... D-Doctor..."
Like a student scolded by a strict teacher, I replied in a nearly tearful, shame-choked voice.
And the doctor—despite being a pro—sounded increasingly husky, like he'd never seen such a lewd, cheap patient.
"Ahem... ahem! This is the posterior fornix behind the cervix. Even standing upright, it's folded like this..."
"..."
He angled the colposcope to the deepest back of my vagina—the lowest point lying down. Oh god... a lake of opaque white or milky fluid pooled there.
First time seeing cum inside me this clearly—shocking.
"...After sex, semen pools here usually. See... wow... that's a lot. Matches what you said—four partners?"
"...Y-yes."
I mumbled shamefully, but he kept a dry tone, which helped a bit.
"And so much left means... you didn't douche right after?"
"Pardon?"
"Douche—vaginal rinse."
"Oh... yes."
"Good call. Avoid douching; it disrupts vaginal pH, invites bacteria. With this much creampie, just let gravity do its work naturally. However..."
"...Y-yes...?"
From experience, scolding time incoming—I tensed up.
"Repeated intense sex can cause clear physical trauma to the cervix. High risk of traumatic cervicitis."
"...Y-yeaaah...."
"Like this..."
The hitherto cool doctor slid a long swab inside, probing my cervix poke! poke! under the colposcope.
"Ah...!"
"See? It's reacting sensitively due to inflammation. Got it?"
"...Y-yes.... D-Doctor..."
Was this necessary? But he kept poking post-explanation...
"Nngh...."
"Hmm.... Hold on."
Stalling? The swab scraped my cervix and walls—sensitive spots—forced pleasure surging through me.
"Ah.... Ahh..."
"See? Too sensitive."
"...Y-yes, Doctor...."
But I was the patient, he the doctor—no grounds to protest. I endured helplessly.
"How many times exactly?"
"...14 times..."
"Aigoo. Way too much in such a short time..."
His subtly reprimanding tone deepened my humiliation, fueling the vicious cycle—feeling it more intensely before him. I might cum forcibly...?!
Panicking, I bit my lip hard, gripping the table desperately. Couldn't let myself moan and climax in front of the doctor...
Thankfully, he wrapped up before it peaked.
"Ahem... Exam complete. Sit up slowly. Samples go to the lab; results in 3-4 days. Inflammation mild, but abstain from sex till then. Prescribing broad-spectrum antibiotics preventively based on findings."
"Ah... okay..."
...Was I crazy? Felt oddly disappointed. Did I want him to fuck me right there on the table? I couldn't understand myself...
Anyway, he slowly removed the speculum; legs trembling, I rose from the shame chair—er, exam table.
Then... drip drip... pussy juice pooled inside gushed down my thighs, some hitting the floor.
"..."
He stared at my slutty display with superhuman restraint.
"Th-thank you."
"No problem. Abstain from sex for a while. Got it?"
"...Yes."
...God, so humiliating—him nagging me outright to cut back on sex to the end. Flushed beet-red, I fled the exam room.
The next day after my Saturday afternoon checkup, I had lunch with another doctor.
"Hi~! Yeon-woo Lee here."
"Oh, hello. Beom-geun Kang."
Of course, not as patient and doctor this time. Uncle had set up the blind date.