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After several failed attempts to right an ovary-oriented problem I had been having the majority of my life, I decided to do some of my own research on my condition. My investigation led me to believe that I had PCOS (Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome). Clearly I had all the symptoms, so I was somewhat confused as to why this diagnosis hadn't entered into my Dr's thoughts without my suggestion... But any-whoo. Per my gyno, I was scheduled to get an internal ultrasound to check for cysts on my ovaries.

Now, I, like other people with average intelligence or greater, know how an ultrasound works. But this was a little different. Instead of getting a look at my insides through my outsides, they were going to go into my insides and look at the innards of my insides. Hooray! So they tell me to drink 3 big glasses of water one half hour before my scheduled appointment - and of course, don't go to! the bathroom. So i do as I'm told and my mom comes with me to the hospital where the procedure is scheduled. We check in and we wait. Then we wait some more. I'm feeling a bit bloated and the pressure is beginning to build in my bladder. It's not awful yet, but I just know it will be before this whole ordeal is over with. I just kept thinking "Please let them be quick about it".

So they finally call my name a 400lb bull dyke with a buzz cut takes me into this room that's all dark except for the tv screen for the ultrasound images and one small florescent desk light off in the corner. Great! Mood lighting! sHe hands me the paper dressing gown and tells me to remove everything and then put that on. Well, after those instructions, I figured that sHe would leave the room and leave me to change. Nope. sHe planted herself in the chair in front of the tv screen and started to play around with the machine to get it ready for me.

A little stunned, and the pressure continuing to build, I decided that this was no time to be shy, and hastily changed out of my clothes and into the paper gown. Fatty McDyke said I should lay on the gurnee with a pillow under the small of my back and my legs up in the stirrups. Yee haw. I had just gotten my legs up when a little blond woman (I'll call her Olga) ! in one of those white hospital coat type things entered the room. I kind of smiled but wondered if I should be expecting anyone else anytime soon. Luckily, the door opened in a way so as not to give a crotch shot to any passers by in the hall.

I was thankful to be laying down. It seemed to take some of the pressure off of my bladder, which at this point was beginning to get very angry with me. There was an eerie silence in the room and then the Big One started to explain what they were going to do to me, showing the instruments as she went along. I couldn't help but think sHe was going to be getting some enjoyment out of this. She proceeds to show me what I swore was an oversized dildo but was apparently the tool they were going to ram up me to get close up shots of my ovaries. It was shaped just like a penis and had a camera where the mushroom tip ought to be. Now i really felt like this was her own personal porn that was going to be on tape and everything. Then it began. Putting a glove on her sausage like fingers, she grabbed the KY and slathered it on me. Then she lubed up the picture stick and started to slide it on! in. Slower than I would have liked. A quick ram would have been just fine. Less time for the Lez to fantasize. As

"There's your bladder" she says, "It's full".

N o s h i t.

Thank you for that breaking news. At that moment, I think seeing my full bladder on the screen made me have to go to the bathroom even more. Now I'm clenching, but can't help the drop welling up where my pee hole is. "almost done" I hear. Hallelujah. The bull dyke finishes up, slowly pulls out the oversized dildo, then says "Olga is in training, so I'm going to let her try a little." My dear lord. This is the first time that the blonde one speaks. In broken English, she says something i couldn't understand and proceeds to ram the photo penis in my happy hole, which by now is definitely NOT happy. She isn't as gentle as the Fat one was, and it's taking quite a toll on my kegal muscles. She keeps asking "Is OK?" Like she wanted my approval or something.

The lez just stands there, looming at the end of the gurnee, way too close to the stirrups, and watches to make sure Olga's doing it right. I thought Fatty was going to get a golden shower, when the blonde pulls out the probe and the lez walks over to a door in the room, opens it to reveal a toilet and says "ok, you can go to the bathroom now." I jumped up and, knees together and a trickle of urine running down my leg, ran to the toilet. I didn't get the door closed. What the hell is the difference at this point. I sat on that toilet and peed for probably a minute and a half - no breaks. I heard the two techs giggle quietly at my elongated urination. I don't believe I've ever felt such complete and utter relief in my life!

After it was all over, Me and my Mom went to IHOP and had some pancakes while i shared with her my story of violation and humiliation. A great way to start the day!

~DD

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