Cath Play Story

Views: 16779

Cath Play Story

My message to you was short -- 'If you can get away for several hours, meet me at the Omelettry on Burnet. You have an appointment.'

It took a while to set things up, but I had plenty of time to enjoy a cup of coffee before you arrive. You come over to the booth I'm sitting in and sit opposite me. "Nice sun dress," I comment. "New?"

"Of course," you reply.

"Kohl's?" I venture.

"Thirty percent off," You confirm. "And shoes, too."

I laugh. "You never could pass up a sale on shoes."

"It's genetic," You remind me.

The waitress arrives. You order flavored iced tea and gingerbread pancakes. I request another cup of coffee and order an omelet.

The service, as usual, is quick. We eat and talk of inconsequential things. You tell me that your car needs a tune up and you haven't found the time to read the current book selection from your reading group. Typically, I avoid talking about myself. If you ask you I will be frank with you, but I enjoy being the character you expect, so I keep my side of the conversation impersonal.

The meal winds down. I refuse additional coffee. I place money for the meal on the table. I remind you that you bought last time.

"Where are we going? You finally ask.

"Not far. Over to Lamar, then past Koenig. It's a small office complex. Just follow me."

We exit the restaurant and get into our respective vehicles. My pickup leads the way into Austin's notorious traffic. Your Toyota rides my tail, two vehicles merging as one. A few minutes later I signal a turn into a small parking lot. When I see you do likewise, I continue around the complex to the rear.

I park adjacent to an overflowing dumpster. While you park next to my truck while I take out a nylon gym bag from behind the seat.

"Lovely," You say.

"Just what the doctor ordered," I reply, displaying a lone key in my hand. I head towards a blank steel door set in the rear wall of the office building.

You hesitate. "We're not going to get arrested are we?"

"Nope. Well, at least not for breaking and entering. I am one of the owners of this building." I unlock the door and beckon you in.

When your eyes adjust to the interior lighting you exclaim, "This is a DOCTOR'S office!"

"Was," I correct. "As of Thursday last, it is now a foreclosed leasehold."


"The landlord took possession of the furnishings in lieu of payment of rent. And that means," I take you arm and guide you down the hall to the room I prepared earlier. "That it is time for your annual gynecological exam."

The expression on your face does not disappoint when you see what is waiting for you. The exam table dominates the room. It is an older model, cracked black leather and tarnished chrome, the stirrups well-worn. Against the wall, behind the table is an IV tree. Hanging from it is an empty, clear vinyl E-Z-EM bag and a full 500ml saline bag.

On a wheeled cart sits several packages of regular and sterile latex exam gloves, a pile of absorbent pads, a box of wipes, several individual use lubricating jelly foil packs and a tube of Surgilube, a package of swabs, a rectal thermometer, a pink douche bulb with a white rubber nozzle and a stainless steel speculum.

"Aside from the furnishings," I answer the question you are about ask. "It's all mine."

"I don't know what to say," You say in awe. You laugh, "This is real!"

I open the bag I bought in. I hand you a paper gown. "In there," I point to the door on the opposite wall. "Is a bathroom. Undress and put this on."

You take the gown, and shaking your head in disbelief, go to the indicated room to change.

I begin the preparations while you get ready. I take off my long sleeve shirt, ring and wristwatch. From my bag I take out and put on a white, three-quarter sleeve smock. Some of the other things in there remain, but I also remove a safety razor, a can of hospital issue shaving cream and a small container of liquid soap. I spread a folded sheet over the cracked leather surface of the exam table.

I move to the room's sink and scrub my hands and forearms. It takes a while for the water to become hot, but when it does its scalding. I place a small basin in the sink and fill it with hot water and set the shaving cream in it. I take the enema bag off of the hook and take it to the sink. I open the red cap and run some water in it to rinse it out. I squirt about half a tablespoon of liquid soap into the opening and hold it under the running water until the bag is full. I manage to get the cap closed without spilling too much water. I verify that the pinch clamp is tight and set the milky bag next to the basin.

I dry off using paper towels, which I toss into the can liner I placed earlier under the sink.

You come out of the bathroom and stand in the middle of the room. I take change.

"Over here, please, Mrs. Murdock." I guide you to the examining table. "Please recline on the table." I get you situated on the table and pull out the end extension for your legs.

"Anything usual to report, Mrs. Murdock? Abdominal pain? Spotting? Hot flashes?"

You shake your head no.

"All right, we'll begin with a breast exam. Arms above your head, Mrs. Murdock."

You lift your arms up and I reach under the paper gown and cup your left breast to orient my fingers. I begin pressing my fingers in a circle around your breast. "Any tenderness?"

"No doctor," you say.

"Good, now the other one." I switch to the right breast and repeat the exam. "And with this one?"


"Fine," I say. And remove my hands from under your gown. I pick up the rectal thermometer and start shaking it down.

"Is that necessary?" you ask.

"Yes," I answer. "It's more accurate. Please turn on your left side."

I open one of the lubricating foil packs and twirl the end of the mercury thermometer in the gel. I lift the paper gown to expose your rear, part your buttocks and insert the thermometer.

"It will be a few minutes," I tell you.

"Doctor," You ask. "Will you be doing a complete exam today?"

"Yes, it's been a while since I last saw you. Why do you ask, is there a problem?"

"It's just that," you explain. "I forgot I had an appointment today until it was too late and I didn't have time to properly clean myself out. I hope that won't be a problem."

I hake my head. "Not at all. You're my last patient for the day, we have plenty of time."

I reach between your buttocks and remove the thermometer. After a quick wipe to remove the lube I hold it up to read. "A shade over ninety-nine" I announce. "Stay in that position, Mrs. Murdock. I'll be right back."

I walk over to the sink and lift out the full enema bag and carry it back to the table where I hang it back on the IV pole. The bottom of the clear vinyl bag hangs about three feet above your hips. I drape the clear tubing over the IV hook and take a pair of regular latex gloves off of the tray and put them on. I squeeze the remaining lubricant from the open packet onto the end of the E-Z-EM tube.

"Relax Mrs. Murdock," I instruct. I insert the integral tip of the enema hose into your anus. "I am going to open the clamp and start your enema now," I tell you.

I hear you draw a sharp breath and hiss the air out as the warm, soapy water begins to fill your rectum. The soap and celerity of delivery will ensure that this enema is quick and efficacious. I hold the tube in place as the milky liquid drains out of the clear bag. You squirm a bit towards the end but manage to take the entire enema without complaint. I slide out the tip, using a wipe to contain any errant dribbles. "Off you go," I say without delay.

You sit up and slide off of the table. Cramps cause you to hunch over as you walk quickly to the bathroom. The immediate sounds emanating from behind the closed door confirm that it was a most effective enema.

While you evacuate your bowels I busy myself for the next phase. I place the used E-Z-EM into a plastic bag and knot it off. I check the instruments I will use next. The speculum is closed, the stool nearby. I open the package of swabs and puncture the tip of a new tube of Surgilube, leaving the open tube near the edge of the cart. I test the floor lamp and position it near the end of the table. Finally, I replace the absorbent pad, close the foot rest and swing the stirrups into place. I again scrub my hands and forearms.

I hear the toilet flush and you appear a moment later. Your complexion is somewhat ruddy. "Very good, Mrs. Murdock," I say. "We are ready for your exam. Please recline on the table and place your legs in the stirrups."

I help you get comfortable, if that's the right word. Positioned is more accurate. I fold the paper gown up and move your legs further apart. Your chest heaves and a slow exhalation of breath escapes your lips.

I pick up a sealed package of sterile gloves and careful open it. I pick up one glove by its folded cuff and slip my free hand into it. Using the gloved hand I repeat the procedure with other glove. I use my little finger to slide the cuffs down over my wrists.

Using my elbow I force out a ribbon of lube onto my waiting fingers. I do not touch the tip of the tube with my fingers. "All right now, Mrs. Murdock," I said as I press my middle finger into your vagina. You flinch as the cold, sticky gel touches your sensitive inner membranes.

I press my finger deeper into your vaginal canal. You are very tight, tense. I slow down. Rotate my finger and press down, then side to side. I place my free hand on your pubic mound. I rotate my finger and press up. At the same time I press down with my other hand. "Hmm," I say. I withdraw my finger and apply more lube to it. I use my free hand to part separate your buttocks and slowly insert my well-lubricated finger into your rectum.

A flinch and an "Oh!" from you as it penetrates.

I press against the anterior wall of your rectum and again say, "Hmm," As I remove my finger.

I peel off the gloves and hook a foot onto the stool to drag it over. I position the light so it illuminates your crotch and sit down. After putting on another pair of regular latex gloves I take the speculum in hand. I spread lube over the petals and place it against your vaginal opening. "Easy does it, Mrs. Murdock."

I slide the unyielding steel instrument into your vagina and carefully expand the petals. Your vagina opens to me. The strong light illuminates the pink interior. I take a swab and gently poke its length in until I touch your cervix. I twirl it a few times and remove it. I release the speculum and glide it out of your body.

"Mrs. Murdock," I say. "There's an anomaly. It's probably nothing, but I'd like to do a sonogram right now, to be sure."

"If you think it is necessary." You say.

"Well yes, to be sure. I'm afraid it will mean that I will have to shave you so I can catheterize you. And another enema." I add. "A large retention enema. So the machine can pick up a good image."

"Do what you have to, doctor."

"We will begin with washing out your vagina with a quick douche." I pick up the rubber squeeze bulb and take it over to the sink. I fill it with warm water.

I hold two folded pads between your legs as I insert the thick rubber nozzle into your vagina up to the shield and squeeze out the warm water. The water washes out the lubricant and wets the area.

I take the mostly empty bulb to the sink and bring the basin and razor back to the exam table. I apply the shaving cream to your pubic mound and begin removing all the hair. I shave slowly, using light pressure. Soon the basin is full of your pubic hairs. I use a small towel to sop most of the water pooling between your thighs.

I empty the basin in the sink. I moisten another towel and use it to wipe the remnants of soap from around your vagina. I part your outer vaginal lips to make sure any soap residue wasn't left behind.

"We'll start with the enema first, then we'll get the catheter inserted."

"O-Kay," You say, sounding not very sure.

I take out a large red closed top enema bag from my bag. Attached to the stopper is a length of latex tubing and attached to it is a double Inflatable nozzle wrapped in plastic. I peel of the protective wrap and take everything to the sink. As soon as the water is the warm enough I fill the bag, screw the cap on, bleed the air and carry the heavy, bloated bag to the IV pole. From my jacket pocket I take out three screw compressor clamps and a black squeeze bulb inflator. I place one of the clamps on the hose, right below the cap. I tighten it only enough so it will remain in place. I place the other two clamps nearby for use on the Inflatable nozzle.

As I put on another pair of gloves I explain, "Mrs. Murdock, first I am going to insert a retention balloon into your anus for the enema. This will ensure that there won't be any accidents during the sonogram." I tear open two of the lube packets and squeeze the contents of one of them onto the fingers of my right hand. I part your buttocks with my left hand and apply the lubricant around and into your anus. I take the distal balloon in my fingers of my right hand and apply the other packet of lube to it.

"Now relax for me," I say. "I am going to insert the balloon." I part your buttocks again and begin to twist the folds of latex balloon past your tight anal ring. It's slippery business but it eventually slides completely inside your rectum.

"There," I announce. Both gloves come off and I attach the inflator to the dangling tube labeled 'distal'. I squeeze it three times, judging by the resistance, to expand the inner balloon. I take one of the screw clamps and use it to seal the air in the balloon. I repeat the process with the external balloon, watching it inflate to the size of an apricot between your thighs.

"Does that feel all right, Mrs. Murdock?"

You answer after a moment. "Unusual, but not uncomfortable."

"Good, I will start the flow." I click open the stainless steel clamp and, after I confirm that the enema is flowing, choke down the flow-rate by adjusting the screw clamp I placed on the hose.

I take out the catheter kit, with its receptacle bag, Y connector and inflation syringe and place it on the cart. I put on a surgical mask and thoroughly wash my hands again. I don another pair of sterile gloves and sit down between your spread legs to begin the delicate process of inserting a catheter into your urethra.

I part your labia to expose your urethral opening. A gurgle from the enema rises from your stomach as I peer at your plumbing. The thin red tube receives a coating of lubricant from the open tube and I begin the insertion procedure.

The fingers of my left hand spread open your labia and I begin to thread the tiny tube into your narrow urinary canal. You flinch several times as the slim catheter inches its way towards your bladder. My efforts are rewarded when I see a stream of urine begin to flow into the receptacle bag at the end of the tube. I take the saline-filled syringe and inflate the catheter's balloon. I use a large band aid to secure the catheter to your thigh.

"Once your bladder is empty," I say through the mask. "We will fill your bladder with saline and perform the sonogram." I look at the enema bag and see that it is more than half empty. It holds three liters, which is more volume than I've given you before.

I attach the saline to the open side of the Y connector, close off the drain side and release the cool liquid into your bladder.

You complain immediately that it is uncomfortable.

"I realize that, Mrs. Murdock." I soothe. "It won't be much longer." I permit 300cc's of saline to flow into your bladder before stopping the flow.

"It's very uncomfortable," you remind me.

"Soon, Mrs. Murdock." I take off the gloves but keep the mask in place. I fold back the gown to reveal your taut belly. "We're ready for the sonogram."

Since the previous tenant wasn't thoughtful enough to abandon a genuine sonogram machine, I fake it. I smear lubricating jelly on both sides of your abdomen and press tight circles through the goo using a couple of small vibrators.

"Done," I announce. I open the drain on the catheter and close the shut off clamp on the enema hose. I remove the screw clamp from the enema hose and use it to close off the Inflatable nozzle. That allows me to disconnect the Inflatable nozzle from the enema hose. While your bladder drains I wash my hands and don the last pair of sterile latex gloves.

"I'll remove the catheter and then you can relieve yourself in the toilet." I peel away the band aid and pop the seal on the inflation. The saline dribbles onto the floor as the balloon deflates. When the last of it drips out I begin to remove the catheter. I tease it out slowly using a slight twisting motion. The actions are accompanied by moans of pain. You gasp quite loudly when the tip falls free of your urethra.

The gloves come off and I assist you to the toilet. You sit on the commode and I take the dangling end of the Inflatable nozzle and remove the clamps holding in the air. First the outer one then the distal one.

"Just relax," I tell you. "And the inflatable nozzle will come right out."

Moaning from cramps you let go with a forceful gush. When you straighten up I pull the out of the bowl and take it away.

While you recover in the bathroom I gather everything up and place the used items in the garbage bags I brought. I take off the smock and put my shirt, ring and watch back on. By the time you exit the bathroom the room is clean and everything is ready to go.

You come out dressed. You take your hairbrush from your bag and brush out your hair. I police the bathroom while you fix your face.

"Ready?" I ask when I'm done.

"Don't I have to schedule another appointment?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well," You say, smiling. "I haven't gotten the results of the sonogram yet."