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Judy's Visit to the Student Clinic
by Flap Jack from BLB (flapjackblb@yahoo.com)

* Judy's Visit to the Student Clinic *

Judy goes to the student health center with a plan to scam them out of some prescription drugs, but thanks to a nurse, she winds getting something else in the end.

Re-posting comments that were posted at my blog.

At 11:57 PM, Anonymous said: Hi, FJ! My name is "Judy." I want to tell you my story.

It all started my freshman year. One of the regular yearly rituals of my sorority involved the need for some sleeping pills, and it was the practice to send the freshmen to obtain them. So I went to the student health center and told the triage nurse that I was having trouble sleeping that I needed a prescription for some good strong pills. She sent me to a little room down the hall past the bathroom and the school's pharmacy, which was conveniently right inside the health center.

A few minutes later, a nurse came in. Her name tag said, "Pamela." She handed me a hospital gown and told me to put it on. I said "why do I need to wear this?" and she replied that it was policy to give full examinations when anybody came in requesting something like this, because of the large number of false reports and pills being dispensed to kids who don't really need them and such. She said that if I would cooperate there shouldn't be any problems.

She could tell I was somewhat embarrassed to get undressed in front of her, so she said, "I'll step out for a minute while you change. And don't worry, you can leave your socks and your underwear on."

Well, the thing was, I wasn't wearing either socks -or- underwear. The socks part you probably don't care about, but the underwear! I used to like to go to class wearing nothing under my jeans, so I could cross my legs back and forth during class and feel them ride up. Yes, I was a naughty little virgin freshman girl!

Again I protested that this had nothing to do with lack of sleep, but I was way, way too embarrassed to tell her why I really didn't want to take off my clothes. She said again that if I wanted my prescription I had better cooperate. I think she could tell that I wasn't been 100% honest.

So she left the room, and I slowly took off my clothes and put them in a neatly folded pile in the corner, next to my shoes. The hospital gown was a thin paper affair that barely came down far enough to cover my private parts in the front or my bottom in the back. Worse, it was simply split down the back and the two sides didn't have any ties to hold them together and didn't really overlap.

I stood in front of the mirror and looked over my shoulder, and there was my poor bare bottom clearly visible! The only way to keep them together would be to reach back there and hold them. I still remember how it felt standing there in that cold little room, my bare feet on the clean cold floor, the cold official- smelling air rushing up through the bottom of the gown past my thighs and my tight, tight belly. I had a knot in my stomach, I was so nervous.

My only hope was that she just wouldn't need to get behind me. I sat down on a metal examination table, and crossed my fingers that she wouldn't make me get up. I could feel the cold table on my bottom and the backs of my thighs. I had goosebumps.

After what seemed like a very long wait, Pamela returned. She told me to stand up and follow her so she could weigh me and check my height. "Follow you where?" I demanded to know.

"Right out in the hallway," she said.

"Pamela" directed out the door and down the brightly lit hallway. I really wished she would go first so she wouldn't be looking at me, but she insisted that I first. I kept my right hand behind my back at all times, clasping that hospital gown together as tight as I could. I hoped she would assume that I was just being modest about her seeing my panties! We passed several people in the hallway and I hoped they didn't notice anything unusual either.

The scales turned out to be near the pharmacy, across the hall from where you had to wait to get your drugs. There were several students of both sexes waiting there, all fully clothed and here I was parading past them mostly naked, with only the grip of my hand preventing them from seeing my bare bottom.

It was a standard medical scale with counterweights and a built-in measuring stick for taking your height. There was a mirror there, too, and I could see that I was red in the face with embarrassment. Pamela said she liked to do both height and weight at the same time.

"Stand up straight," she commanded. "Hands by your side."

"Why?" I pleaded?

"So I can get an accurate measure of your height! It's our standard policy," she said.

"But.. all these people! You can't make me!"

"Look, do you want to get your prescription or not? Yes? Then do it!"

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and let go of the hospital gown and left my arms hang at my sides. I could feel a draft of air against my bottom and my back.

"I see," Pamela mumbled.

I knew that she knew my secret now. I just hoped that she was standing between me and the other patients, so that nobody else could see me. I told myself that she was, that she was protecting me now that she knew how naked and vulnerable I was.

It seemed like it took an eternity for her to write down my height, then fumble with the little weights and then write that down. "Done," she said.

Time to go back into the room, at last! I grabbed the back of that gown even tighter than before! When I opened my eyes the first thing I saw was that I was no longer red in the face, I was now pale with fear.

I still don't know how much the other people saw. I couldn't bring myself to even look in their direction, to see if I could tell if they were looking or had been looking at me.

Back in the room, she told me to sit on the table again. She did the usual stick-out-your tongue stuff, and checked my reflexes with a rubber mallet. Then she listened to my heart with a stethoscope. She reached right down the front of my gown to put that cold metal thing just above my left breast, and that's when I looked down and realized my nipples were hard as a rock! I'm sure she saw them too.

Then she said, "Stand up, I'm going to take your temperature." She went over to a cabinet and got out a thermometer.

"Why do I need to stand up?" I asked, my voice still shaky from the ordeal in the hallway.

"Because, dear, this is a rectal thermometer. It's more accurate."

"Is that your standard policy too?" I asked, half joking.

Dead seriously, she said, "It is for *you*!"

"Pamela" had me stand facing the examination table and lean forward onto it and stick out my rear end. She also had me spread my legs somewhat, and stand on my toes. My nervousness increased, but I did what she said. I know she had just seen my naked bottom in the hallway, but this pose exposed it even more totally and I felt even more powerless.

The hospital gown, never attached very firmly to begin with, fell completely away from everything except my arms. Part of it got underneath one of my hands and I nearly slipped on it and fell on my face.

"Alright, take that thing off," Pamela ordered. "It's dangerous. One slip like that with a glass thermometer inside you, and we'll have a serious situation on our hands."

By this point I was no longer questioning her right to tell me what to do, and besides it made sense. She could already see everything, what good was the gown doing now?

With the gown gone, I stood looking at my bare-chested reflection in the mirror. My nipples were so taught I thought they were going to burst. Behind me, I could see Pamela putting on rubber gloves. I could also hear the snap of the rubber. I could see her dipping the first two finger of one hand into some kind of lubricant. She held up the thermometer and greased it up too. It was a very large, thick glass thermometer with a big silvery bulb at the end where the mercury was. I didn't think they made them that big.

Pamela was probably saying something, but at this point I couldn't even listen. I was too wrapped up in my disbelief about what was about to happen to me. This... *thing* was going to be inserted in my... I couldn't even think it... back there! This was not acceptable, but here I was about to accept it! The only thing that comforted me was the thought that Pamela would not do anything to hurt me.

For all her sternness, she cared about me and she was taking care of me; she would protect me just like she had done in the hallway when she found out I was naked. I had no real reason to believe this at the time, but it was the thought I held onto to keep from losing my mind.

When she used one of her hands to spread my cheeks apart back there, it was the first time she had touched me. In spite of the gloves her hand seemed warm and caring, and I almost welcomed it. Almost! She used the other hand to lubricate right around my hole, and then, and then she put her finger inside me to lubricate there.

OMFG! Her fingers were... there! I had been invaded. I had lost some sort of battle, suffering total defeat. I gave in to the advance of her finger, and relaxed the tightness to let her in.

And it was just beginning! Then the thermometer went in, and it was cold. It was hard. In spite of the work she had done to lubricate and relax me, that thing hurt a little. Mostly it was annoying, but in the sense that being tickle tortured is annoying! My gut instinct was to reject it out of my body, to flex my muscles and crush its flimsy glass bulb to pieces. But I knew I couldn't do that. I had to stand there and tolerate it, until she could get a good reading of my temperature.

Pamela kept the thermometer inside of me just long enough but no longer. Just long enough for every last shred of my resistance to it and to her power over me to fade away. Gone were my pride, my dignity, replaced by... trust and dependence on this woman I barely knew. What was left of me suddenly felt more free and relieved than I had felt in a long time.

Then it was over. She pulled it out, snapped off the gloves, and wrote down my perfectly normal temperature. "You can put your clothes back on now," she said. "The doctor is just going to write you your prescription and send you on your way. But do me two favors if you want to get your drugs."

"One, leave your shoes off. The doctor likes to examine the female patients' feet even if it has nothing to do with what they are in here for. If he tickles you, laugh!"

At 3:57 AM, Anonymous said: Oops, last time I promise!

I wasn't listening to Pamela, I was silently masturbating. I just couldn't help myself. I didn't care that I was doing it in front of her. Once she noticed what I was doing, she waited patiently for me to finish without saying anything about it.

As soon as I was done, she asked me, "Judy, when was your last bowel movement?"

"Uh, yesterday," I said absent-mindedly. I honestly couldn't remember. I was always so irregular back then.

"I don't believe you. It's been a week at least. I can tell, I just saw you. You need to be cleaned out in there. Would you like to ask the doctor if I could give you an enema?"

"The doctor is a man, right?" I said. "I don't think I could talk to a man about that right now. Can't you just do it without asking him?"

"Sorry, not here I can't." She wrote something on a bit of paper and put it in my purse. "Use this address and phone number if you decide you want me to give you an enema without anyone else knowing."

"What is that, a different doctor's office or something?"

"No, it's my apartment, silly!" She almost blushed. For the first time, as I was finally getting dressed, I really looked at Pamela and realized that she was pretty young herself and quite pretty. I noticed she was wearing those nurse's clogs with the open back, leaving her ankles and heels exposed except for her thing white stockings, and I wondered if she knew about the doctor's foot fetish from experience.

"One more thing you need to do for me, honey, she said, or I'll make sure you never get those pills. I know what you're doing. You girls pull this stunt every year. I had to do it too, you know," she said as she pulled a sorority ring - from the same sorority as me! - out of her pocket and put it on her finger.

"But I and all the other girls they send in her at least had the common sense to wear a nice clean pair of cotton panties! You were a special treat!," she said, patting me gently on my now fully clothed bottom.

"You need to promise me that you aren't going to take any of those pills yourself. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I promise," I said, and I meant it.

"Let me ask you something now," I said. "Do you do that thermometer thing every year or was that just for me?"

"Never before. But it wasn't just for you, it was for me!," she said. "I told you, you're special. Get used to it!"

And that's the end of the beginning. After that, my adventures continued. I did take up Pamela on her enema offer, but I eventually decided that I wasn't really a lesbian. I wanted to find a guy who loved my rear end as much as I did, and it turned out to not be that hard of a thing to find. Eventually I met one that I liked enough to marry.

But all of those are different stories. This one is over. Thanks for listening.

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