Amber slumped toward the car's passenger door, a sure sign to her mother that she was upset.
"Amber, honey, are you going to be okay with this?" she asked the pouting teenager.
"No," Amber answered sullenly. "How could it be okay? The doctor wants to stick his finger up my butt!"
"Oh, honey, stop talking like that. You're being gross."
Amber thought about what it would feel like to have her asshole inspected by a man she didn't know. "It is gross, Mom. He probably gets off on it!"
"For gods' sakes, Amber, stop being dramatic! This is a scientific experiment, designed to benefit the medical community and their patients. I can assure you that no one is 'getting off' on anything."
Amber was shocked. How could her mother not agree with her on this?
"Mom, it's embarrassing! I don't even want anyone to know I'm participating in this; and, even if no one found out, I still don't want to actually have to do it!"
The agitated teenager held up the flyer her mother had been given by the secretary at Amber's high school.
"Just look at their ad: Needed: Adult teenagers to participate in a clinical study of proctologic stimulation and its effects on the nervous system. Then there's a note in small print at the bottom, stating that the boys' roster is full, but they're still looking for girls."
"Well, that's good, honey, since you're an 18-year-old girl, and you need a job."
"But even if they're not doing anything weird, it still sounds weird! Like they're going to try to buttfuck me or something."
"Amber! You know I don't approve of that kind of language. I think at the root of all this is a serious attitude issue on your part, young lady."
"I notice you haven't signed up for it," Amber replied quietly.
"Amber, even if they were not asking for 18- and 19-year-old kids, I don't need the money, and you do. That cheerleading outfit you're wearing was three hundred dollars, your figure skating lessons are a dollar a minute, and you still want money to spend at the mall with Jordan and Trista. And haven't you been bugging me lately about getting your own car?"
"I just don't want this job..."
"Well, you know Burger King has been hiring, but you said you don't want to work around all the grease. Amber, you're going to have to learn eventually that money comes from somewhere, and, in this case, it will be coming from the proctology clinic. You know Emily, that pretty blonde girl who works at Starbucks?"
"The one who mows Mr. Miller's lawn?" Amber asked.
"Yes, that's her. She's only 19, and she never passes up an opportunity to make money. Emily's picking up an extra 60 dollars every afternoon for her examinations, Monday through Friday, and she has no complaints."
"Yeah, I bet that doctor likes having her to experiment with, since every guy in town thinks she's got the nicest butt in the world."
"You seem to think this has something to do with sex, Amber, and it doesn't. Your school never would have posted the ad on the bulletin board if this was about something unprofessional. Now, you don't have to do this, but I think you should... and if you don't, I expect you to be carrying a Burger King uniform when you get home." Amber's mother pulled the car into the clinic's parking lot and stopped in front of the main entrance.
"If it makes you feel any better, Amber," her mother added, "Emily told me this doctor is a woman."
"Probably some mean old dyke!" Amber retorted, her emotions beginning to stir as the fear of an impending afternoon of discomfort and humiliation began to set in. A distinctly unnerving tingle in her stomach reminded her that, if she got out of her mother's car now, instead of heading over to Burger King for a job application, someone, in just a few minutes, was going to do something unpleasant to her naked behind!
"No, Amber, she's not a 'mean old dyke'. Emily told me she's young and attractive. I don't think you have anything to worry about." Even this information did not make Amber feel any better, as she now had to consider the embarrassing prospect of being handled by a woman who was, quite possibly, even prettier than herself.
Amber was just about on the verge of tears as she tried to decide whether to go into the clinic, or ask her mom to drive her to Burger King.
"Look, honey," her mother said quietly, using her most soothing tone of voice. "If it's too uncomfortable, you can quit. There are plenty of other jobs out there. I just thought this one would be good for you, since it's not really work, and since you don't like to work at anything except ice skating, cheerleading and boys."
Amber remained silent, thinking about it.
"Please, just give it a try," her mother continued. "How bad could it be? They do their tests, they study your reactions, and that's all. This sounds like the easiest job I've ever heard of, and yet you want to just throw away this opportunity without even trying."
Amber looked up into her mother's face, and her mother smirked mischievously, then added: "Besides, you know how I'm always bugging you to stand up straight. Maybe this will improve your posture!"
Amber looked at her mother in shock, and the woman giggled. "Lighten up, Amber," she added. "I'm only joking. Now, which is it going to be? Proctologic stimulation, or Burger King?"
Amber smiled. "Oh, all right," she agreed. "But if I come home walking like I have a golf ball up my ass..."
"Amber! I told you to watch your language."
DR. FULLER'S EXAMINATION
Amber didn't have to wait long before the young blonde in the white lab coat came out to the waiting room and introduced herself.
Dr. Courtney Fuller an intimidating sight: six feet tall, very beautiful and very serious. Even covered by the lab coat, her body was obviously voluptuous and shapely. Amber guessed she was about 25-30 years old.
She took Amber by the arm and led her into an examination room. Amber was surprised at how stern the doctor was being with her! She began to think that her mother was right - that this was just a job, and that no one was going to try to get too friendly or romantic with her.
The examination room was bright and empty. Its walls were painted lemon yellow, rows of bright fluorescent lights lined the ceiling, and the carpeted floor supported just one piece of furniture: a cabinet on wheels, the drawers of which contained various implements which, as Amber was soon to discover, would be used to examine and experiment on Amber's tiny asshole.
"Stand in the center of the room and face the mirror," Dr. Fuller ordered sharply, her voice crisp with impatience. Normally, Amber wouldn't put up with such abruptness from an authority figure, but she was very intimidated by the blonde amazon. One entire wall of the examination room contained a huge mirror - eight feet high, twenty feet wide - and, in the reflection, Amber could see Dr. Courtney Fuller working a pair of very tight, white rubber gloves onto her hands.
Amber looked at herself in the mirror, and immediately became self-conscious at the obvious expression of humiliation on her face. She then looked at Dr. Fuller, who was not doing a very good job of trying not to smile.
"What's so funny?" Amber asked, unable to mask her defensive tone of voice.
"Nothing," the doctor replied, rather loudly, then added: "Now get those panties off. Move, young lady! When I tell you to do something, you do it; don't just stare at me with your mouth open. Now, come on... panties off!"
Amber hurriedly obeyed, squirming out of her panties and dropping them to the floor next to her. She heard dim laughter coming through the walls from a nearby room, and that only reminded her of just how ridiculous she felt.
"Dear, you're not going to start crying on me, are you?" Dr. Fuller asked impatiently, her voice almost a whine. "I swear to God, one tear and you're out of here, without pay. I am very tired of these spoiled brats who don't mind making 60 dollars in a single afternoon, but don't want to have to put out for it. Do you think you can come in here and just look at yourself in the mirror?"
"Excuse me?" the doctor demanded, her voice as prickly as her purple fingernails.
"I said, 'No, Ma'am!'" Amber almost shouted.
"Then put your hands on your hips, and bend over," Dr. Fuller said quietly, almost soothingly.
The first object to probe Amber's virgin anus was a simple, smooth plastic rod, as slim as a pencil and the length of a conductor's baton. The doctor had lubricated the device before beginning the slow insertion process, and Amber closed her eyes and tried not to clench as she felt it slide into her tiny teenbutt.
"Open your eyes," Dr. Fuller instructed her. "The purpose of these experiments is to test your reactions, so I need you to look straight ahead, directly into the mirror. Now."
Amber was so humiliated, she considered leaving. But the thin probe was now inserted several inches into her gripping ass, and to leave the clinic without compensation would have been a complete waste of her dignity. Amber knew, at that moment, that she was in this for the duration.
The traumatized teengirl looked at herself in the mirror, and in her peripheral vision she could see Dr. Courtney Fuller studying Amber's facial expressions, and smiling. Just as Amber was trying to figure out why the doctor would take such pleasure in her invasive anal experiment, she felt the plastic probe begin to rotate slowly.
"Hey..." Amber began to protest, looking over her shoulder at the kneeling woman.
"Look at that mirror!" Dr. Fuller shouted, and Amber quickly resumed watching herself. Her eyes were wide and her lips formed an embarrassed "0" as the doctor twisted and poked her squirming butt with the thin rod.
This is terrible, Amber opined silently. I will NEVER tell anyone what happens in here!
When the doctor replaced the plastic rod with a buzzing electric dildo, Amber's already-fragile ego was pushed far beyond its limits of humiliation. She moaned as the doctor held the menacing tool deep in her suffering butt. She was soon gasping, groaning, grunting... but she wanted to leave the clinic with her 60 dollars, so she placed her palms on her knees, and kept her eyes focused straight ahead!
There were other things Dr. Fuller did to Amber that afternoon... indecent things.
Like shoving several ice cubes into her asshole, then treating her hurting behind to the hot air from a blow-dryer, expediting the melting process... like pinching and twisting Amber's butt cheeks with her sharp fingernails... and, last but not least, making the pampered teenager suck on a baby pacifier while the doctor paddled her butt with a wooden spoon!
Something that seemed even more strange to Amber happened right before her session with Dr. Fuller ended: somewhere, in another room, a group of males groaned in unison. Amber could only guess that these were the male participants, and that the anal probing they had been receiving was just too much for them.
Despite her best efforts to hold on to her sense of empathy, Amber could not help feeling secretly amused by what she was imagining. She decided these sounds could only mean that the boys were all lined up side-by-side in front of their own mirror, all of them having their tight butts experimented on at the same time!
Amber concentrated on the masculine groans coming from the nearby room. Do the boys have female doctors working on them, like I do? she wondered. Or do the female doctors examine the girls, and male doctors examine the guys?
Amber's fantasies, fueled by the attention her backside was receiving from Dr. Fuller, began to create an image of some of the senior guys from her high school, bent over and taking the same kinds of invasive manipulations from men in white lab coats. She wondered if these supposed male doctors were the typical gray-haired older men, or if maybe they were handsome young studs!
Amber didn't know any 18- or 19-year-old boys who would submit to this treatment for any amount of money, but she couldn't figure out any other reason that would explain the sound of several males groaning right before the end of her anal session with the beautiful, kneeling doctor in front of the huge, room-sized mirror!
Even after the exhausted girl had put her panties back on and collected her pay, she wondered if it was all worth it. Her hair was stuck to the sides of her face with sweat... she didn't know how she was going to be able to look at herself in the mirror the next morning... and, as she stuffed the three 20-dollar bills into her bra, she felt very much like a prostitute.
And when little Amber arrived home from work that evening, she was, just as she had jokingly predicted, walking like she had a golf ball up her ass.
AMBER'S MIDDLE FINGER
The next day, in every class, all Amber could think about was how much she disliked her new job. She had almost decided to blow it off that afternoon, and instead have her mother drive her to Burger King to pick up a job application, when she recognized a girl in the school restroom who worked at the fast-food hangout.
This girl was, like Amber, 18 years old, and would have been as attractive as Amber, if not for all that disgusting acne. The Burger King grease was ruining the girl's complexion, and suddenly, Amber's butt didn't hurt nearly so bad! She thought about getting paid minimum-wage to stand next to those hot vats of grease, and she decided to give her new job another shot.
Dr. Fuller was a little less abrupt with Amber this time. "Second session," the young woman announced, taking off her lab coat. "Very good, Amber. Ninety percent of our young ladies never return after the first session."
Dr. Courtney Fuller was wearing a very tight outfit: a green silk blouse tucked neatly into a black skirt (accentuating her large breasts, her tiny waist and her shapely rear-end), and a pair of shiny, black, five-inch high heels. Her skirt was unusually short - so short that Amber could see the garter belts holding up her black stockings! Amber was a little confused by this outfit, especially since, on the previous day, the doctor had left her street clothes covered by her lab coat.
Amber slid her panties off as Dr. Fuller tugged the white rubber gloves onto her hands. "Amber, I would like you to remove your skirt today, also," the doctor informed her.
Amber knew better than to argue with the doctor. She hadn't worn her cheerleading outfit today, so after removing her panties and skirt, she felt especially ridiculous. She was now wearing only her thin pullover blouse, her little brown socks and her leopard-print boots.
The timid teengirl covered her pussy with both hands and bent over slightly, looking at her reflection in the big mirror and waiting for Dr. Fuller to begin the anal exam.
The first tool to go up Amber's butt was one of Dr. Courtney Fuller's rubber-gloved index fingers. "Now, Amber," the doctor directed, "I want you to explain for me, in detail, exactly what this feels like."
Then Dr. Fuller began to gently wiggle her inserted finger.
"Ugh... it's... ugh... ow..." Amber looked over her shoulder at the kneeling doctor, about to protest the uncomfortable procedure.
"Look at yourself in the mirror," Dr. Fuller reminded Amber. "Pretend that girl in the mirror is someone else, and you're explaining to her what it feels like to have a woman's finger wiggling around in your tight little ass."
Amber cocked her head and looked at her own pitiful facial expression. "Oh, Dr. Fuller," she whined.
"There are plenty of other tools in these drawers that you're going to enjoy a lot less than my finger!" the doctor warned angrily.
"Okay, okay, I'll do it," Amber conceded miserably. "It's like something is alive up in there, squirming around, making me want to pull away," she whined.
"What else?" the beautiful woman on the floor demanded.
"I don't know, I mean, what do you want me to say? You're finger-fucking me. Finger-fucking my ass."
"That's enough profanity out of you, Amber. What else?"
"It's... it kind of makes my pussy a little bit wet," Amber admitted. She quickly glanced down at Dr. Fuller's reflection, and saw that the woman's attention was momentarily occupied by Amber's quivering ass. Amber took this opportunity to secretly slip the middle finger of her right hand into her sopping twat, covering this covert activity with her left hand.
This way, Amber was able to drill herself during the entire session.
The quietly-masturbating teenager was also treated to a string of pearls being shoved into her excited back door, then slowly pulled out, one bead at a time... a policeman's nightstick, diabolically coated with a penetrating menthol cream, rotated slowly back and forth... and a thick leather strap that left red welts on her otherwise-unblemished behind.
Like the previous day, as her examination ended she heard the muffled sounds of males in another room, groaning loudly.
And, like the previous day, she walked in the front door of her home like she had a golf ball shoved up her ass.
DR. FULLER'S SURPRISE
"Session three," the lovely young doctor exclaimed encouragingly when Amber arrived the next day. "My, you're getting to be one of my favorite girls."
This time, Dr. Fuller made poor Amber take off her skirt, panties and blouse, leaving her with nothing on but her black high-heeled boots and bra!
Amber stood before the mirror with her eyes shut, waiting. She wouldn't be required to open them until the first object of the day was inserted into her tender teenbutt, so she just kept them closed, mortified at what she was wearing - or, more accurately, not wearing - and waiting for the doctor to remove her lab coat and don the clinical rubber gloves.
My god, Amber realized, at this rate, she'll have me standing here in nothing but my shoes tomorrow... and all naked the next day! (Burger King was starting to look a little less unbearable to the beautiful, bare-assed teenager!)
"Now, don't jump, Amber," Dr. Fuller warned gently, reassuringly. "This little treat is called an enema."
Amber had heard of those! She opened her eyes, startled, and the view in the mirror almost caused her to fall over!
Dr. Courtney Fuller had removed more than just her lab coat this time. Dr. Courtney Fuller had stripped down to just her pink bra and panties, and her white garter belt, stockings and high heels!
And... she was holding an enema bag, hose and nozzle... and preparing to use it on poor, frightened Amber.
Amber began to quickly gather her scattered clothing from the floor. "Um... Dr. Fuller, I need to go," she explained sheepishly. "I can't keep doing this. I don't want to. I don't want an enema!"
"What?" the doctor exclaimed, dropping the contraption to the floor, her face contorted with anger and disgust. "You'd better be joking, bitch. Now, bend over, before I bend you over!"
Amber hurried to the door, covering her naked quim with her skirt, panties and blouse. "No, Dr. Fuller, please!" she begged, beginning to cry. "Please don't make me!"