#doctor larch

[doctorlarch]

I’m thinking about rough gloved hands pulling you by your hair, gripping your jaw, maneuvering your body into whatever position is necessary. Just roughing up a pretty little test subject.

[inpatient-bunny]

Doctor Larch says touching yourself is good for pain management, and who am I to disobey doctor’s orders?

[doctorlarch]

“Good afternoon I’m Doctor Larch, what brings you in today? New patient, I see. Well, let’s jump right into it then. I will warn you, this visit might run late, I do like to be thorough to get a proper baseline with new patients, I hope you have nowhere to be in the next couple hours.” My patient was looking down at their fidgeting fingers in their lap until I said hours, then your eyes shot up as if to question me but stopped short. “There is a gown on the exam table, please disrobe completely and change into that. Leave it untied in the back.” I straighten my tie as I stand to leave, closing the door behind me. 

1800 words, 7-10 minute read. mild noncon (no sex), medical, gynecological, sedatives and restraints, no gore. This is the first story I've ever posted so enjoy! pls be nice to me about it

Part two here!

I was pleased to see my patient had folded their clothes neatly into a pile on one of the waiting chairs. You jumped slightly when you heard the metallic clinking of tools on the covered tray I was rolling in with me. I roll my stool up to the table so we are sitting arms length away and begin asking my slew of questions. It always starts simple, the basics, how much do you eat, sleep, exercise, etc. then onto the more intimate questions that make you squirm and avoid eye contact. Once I feel that I have humiliated you enough with my questions I put your chart aside and don a pair of gloves and my stethoscope from around my neck. “Sit up straight for me” You jump when you feel my gloved hand on your bare back to steady you. “Take a deep breath in for me…and out. Again, deep breath in…and out. Deep breath in…hold…and out” it seems like this goes on forever making you a little lightheaded. “Are you feeling okay? You're looking a little flushed.” I move my stethoscope to the front and slip my hand with the bell down the front of your gown, catching you off guard. I listen with concern for a moment, taking one of your wrists in my other hand to feel your pulse. “Your heart rate is higher than I’d like. I am going to run an EKG just to be safe” I say as I am setting up wires all around you. A hand on your shoulder encourages you to lean back against the table. Before you realise your gown has been folded down to expose your chest. When you reach to cover yourself my hands find your wrist firmly. “Hands by your sides” I chide and you obey. It's not long before the electrodes and wires have been placed. With a couple clicks on the monitor you hear your pounding heartbeat echoing in the room. I study the glowing screen for a couple moments before deciding out loud “I’m going to keep you on the monitor the rest of your exam just for a better picture of your health” 

You’re startled by the rip of the velcro as the blood pressure cuff is strapped on your arm, the pulse oximeter too. Trapped by a mess of wires, without pulling your gown back up you are instructed to sit up once more. I look in your eyes and ears, I take a throat culture which makes you gag and your eyes water. You are laid down again for an abdominal exam which leads to your gown being pushed down further, feeling like it barely covered anything at all. You’ve already been at my clinic for over an hour, I don’t think you realized how full your bladder was until my gloved hands were palpating your abdomen. “Is this tender?” I ask the obvious while pressing on the exact spot that made you flinch. Such a shy patient, you barely manage a nod. I let out an inquisitive hmm as my palpating hands move lower, right above your pubic bone. I hear your sigh of relief when I turn away from you, pulling off my gloves, washing my hands. I see you've attempted to cover yourself with the flimsy gown when I turn back to you, pushing the tray I brought in with me earlier, this time uncovered. I see your face drop when you see the array of shiny metal tools, one of the notable few you could identify: the speculum. The stirrups fold out from the table before you know it. 

“By your own admission, it’s been far too long since your last visit to the gynecologist. Due to the length of time that has passed, and because it will be my first time exploring your body this might feel more invasive than you're used to but I assure you this is all necessary.” You become aware of the heart monitor again as you hear it announcing your anxiety over a loud speaker. “These are just safety straps, I can’t have you moving around with such delicate instrumentation inside you. I hope you're comfortable.” I know no one is comfortable on my exam table in this position yet I say it anyway. Once I feel my patient is properly secured with the thigh and ankle straps and the one across your hips I take my seat between your legs knowing if you become difficult there are quite a few more straps at the ready under the table. I can imagine you must feel so exposed with the heat of the exam light burning where the light usually doesn’t shine. As I begin palpating your hands go up to cover your face in shame. “Arms by your side, please. The monitors you’re on are sensitive pieces of equipment, I don’t need your inability to hold still to affect the readings.” I am stern and unyielding, like the straps already adorning your lower body. “If you find yourself unable to keep still I can assist you in that.” My patient shakes their head no and lets out a weak apology. “A little bit of pressure now” You jump again as I am inserting the speculum. I sigh standing up and snapping off my gloves “I can’t work like this. I was hoping you wouldn’t be such a disruptive patient. These should make it a lot easier for you to hold still” Thankfully my patient doesn’t fight as the straps are secured to their wrists and across their chest. They do pull a little, testing the strength of their bonds. I hear another jump in heart rate as they realize how trapped they really are, their gown completely removed, fully exposed and unable to escape my scrutiny. I’m sure the thought went through your head of how easily I could decide not to release them at the end of the exam, how vulnerable you are. 

I hum a little to myself, enjoying the ability to work on you without interruption. “I’m seeing an unusual amount of vaginal secretions” I announce aloud just to watch you blush. The speculum somehow opens even wider, you let out a stifled groan. “Since it’s been so long since your last pap smear, I think it's indicated to look a little deeper than a standard exam. Take a deep breath, you might feel some cramping as I dilate your cervix” some cramping might have been an understatement but I try to avoid overly worrying my patients, I find that knowing the pain that awaits them leads to higher rates of non-compliance. I’m sure my patient is thankful for the restraints keeping them in place as their body fights to get away from me. “You’re okay. You’re doing so well. I’m almost done with this one then only two more dilators to get through.” my free hand rests on your thigh in an effort of comfort. On the third dilator I have to ask, “Would you like the nurse to bring you a sedative? You might find it easier to relax with the aid of medication.” My patient denies it. I believe you’d be more comfortable with the sedative but I’ll let you make your own decision for now. Your cervix spasms beautifully as the final dilator is removed. “I just need to gather a few uterine samples now, hang in there, we are almost done” You can’t see what I’m doing but hear the clink of metal tools and feel a deep, gut churning scraping inside. There’s a visible look of relief on your face as I release my grip on your cervix and remove the tentaculum but the speculum stays lodged in you. 

“All I have left to do down here is get a urine sample…What was that? No, you won’t be needing to urinate in a cup. It’s much easier for me to get a clean sample through a catheter insertion. You’re brave, I know you can handle it” While I am changing my gloves and setting up a sterile tray I hold up the catheter tubing to show you and explain how far inside you this will be going. With generous lube and expert hands I have you catheterized and voiding into a sample cup in no time. What gave you pause was when I connected the catheter to a collection bag and taped it securely to your leg. For the first time you’ve said more than two words in over an hour, “Umm…Aren’t you going to take that…thing out of me?” I’m quiet for a moment as I’m careful to choose my words, “I have decided to admit you overnight for observation and further testing in the morning. I have some concerns about your heart rate, among other concerns I saw in your exam. It can be quite taxing to get a patient on so many monitors to and from the restroom so this is the practical option” This is the part where you start to get agitated, I was worried about this possibility. I tried explaining why it’s important for you to be in my care but you are far too worked up to process that information. When the tears start and I am concerned about you hurting yourself thrashing against the restraints I call in a nurse with the sedative you denied earlier. It’s a quick and relatively painless injection in your thigh, you should be feeling its effect soon. I sit by your head and speak softly, wiping your tears away with soft gloved fingers. I feel your pulse at your neck as you start to settle down, your eyes are starting to glaze over. My nurse and I work together to remove the straps and transfer you to a gurney. We get you comfortable in an inpatient room. After your outburst I decide it would be safest for you and my staff, to keep your wrists restrained to the bed. I have my nurse insert an IV so that we can keep your fluids up. I was kind enough to pull a sheet over you before turning out the lights and closing the door. You are left to sleep off the sedative with nothing but the calm beeping of your heart rate and the regular whirl of the blood pressure cuff to lull you into much needed restful sleep. You looked so tired when you arrived at your appointment. I’m sure you will come to understand this is all for your own good. 

[doctorlarch]

The first sense that come to you is sound. As you become aware the soft sounds lulling you into a peaceful bliss, as if the sound of wheels over tile floor was the calm of ocean waves. With time the sound develops more clarity, the clanks of the moment of the gurney feeling sharper. You can hear people speaking, although still unaware of how many or what they are saying. Not bothered to try to decipher any of it. You could feel you were moving, the gurney slowing or rounding corners here and there. It seems your mind is beginning to come back to you at the same time as your sight does. As you squint to open your eyes you’re greeted by the aggressive brightness of fluorescent lights flashing above as you pass beneath them. You resort to closing your eyes again but the damage is already done.

“Subject 42 has awoken.” Someone announces as you feel a hand briefly squeeze your shoulder reassuringly. You can feel the glove sticking slightly to your clammy skin as it pulls away. This is when you realize your lack of a shirt, or gown. With what feels like extraordinary effort you open your eyes again and manage to tilt your head slightly to look each way. You can see at least four or five people surrounding you, walking your gurney down a long corridor before the gloved hands of someone at the head of the bed firmly moves your head back to center, shining a light in each eye. It’s hard to gather your thoughts but you think back, can you remember being in any accident? I must be in the hospital obviously, you think. You become aware of the rising beeping of what you can only assume is a heart rate monitor. The hands above you lightly tapping one of your cheeks trying to rouse your full attention. “Take some deep breaths for me. We are almost there.” At this point you finally find the focus to make eye contact with the stranger above you, whose face was mostly obscured by a surgical mask. You do your best to suck in a shakey breath as you burst through a set of double doors. Before you can comprehend what’s happening you’re being lifted and positioned on an operating table by 4 or so masked figures in scrubs. Each arm is stretched out and secured in place before you can begin to think of resisting, the table moves some, and your legs are secured too, albeit in a much more compromising position. Looking down you see your naked body, adorned by a multitude of wires and sensors across your chest and abdomen, you’re not normally shaved bare like this either. You feel movement on one side and look to the left where you see someone pulsing a large syringe into an IV port already in place.

You don’t get to watch for long before your head is being tilted up and back as a mask comes down over your mouth and nose, held firmly in place by strong hands. “You need to calm down, 42, you’ve been through this before. Slow deep breaths. Just let the medicine do its job.” The man spoke in a reassuring tone but nothing he said did anything to ease your rising panic, if anything he added to it. But you didn’t have long to let your thoughts snowball, forseeing your panic the anesthetist had already begun squeezing the rebreather bag, slowly and steadily filling you with whatever plasticly smelling gas was coming through the mask. Just a couple breaths in you’re feeling light and detached. You’re still confused, sure, but no longer feeling the rush to act. You are just a passive passenger in your body, you didn’t know what the many hands touching you were doing but it was none of your concern. You were just along for the ride.

You lost your sense of time long before gaining consciousness in the hallway, unsure and unbothered by how long you’d been breathing in the sweet gas, until now you’re feeling something new, the heavy detached feeling had transformed into something different, you felt very present. Hyper aware of every sensation. You could feel the pull of the sticky pads on your chest and stomach, the wires brushing against your skin with each breath. The air felt so much colder against your exposed genitals, was that wetness?…Oh god, what is that heat building! A groan escapes your lips that I’m not even sure you were aware of as you try to arch your back and wither in your restraints, unable to get far. It all builds so fast! You had no knowledge of how desperately you needed to be touched until you felt the researcher’s gloved hand graze your labia, causing a visible shudder. You started to wonder again what was happening but before your thoughts could progress you were seeing stars…

The lead researcher, sat between your legs fully inserted two fingers into your aching hole. Clenching down, back arching, a moan more animal than human erupted from behind the mask held to your face. You try to comprehend the white hot sensation stemming from your groin as the fingers curl to massage your G-spot momentarily before withdrawing. Leaving you with an aching need you’ve never known before. “Yup, the subject is ready to proceed”

[doctorlarch]

Excuse me, doctor...

Can you explain more how you turn bratty defiant patients into docile cooperating ones?

Sure! Chemical and Physical restraints are a big part of that process. I’ve found that most patients just need to understand that they have no say in their care once they walk in my door. The only thing they can control is their behavior; thus deciding how pleasant of a stay they have. While I do love a well behaved plaint patient there is something exhilarating about having a bratty, defiant patient to break. And it is so rewarding to watch a patient go from needing a muzzle to eating pills out of my gloved hand.

While every patient is different and requires individualized care here’s a basic treatment plan for an aggressive patient:

Physical restraints 24/7 unless chemically restrained. Some cases require both together to not hurt themselves trashing about attempting to get out of their restraints.

I continue providing compassionate care, they have to realize that while they have no chance of evading their treatment it’s because I am doing what is best for them. You need this. It’s normal for patients to fight back the first couple days of their admission so I don’t take it personally. Within a week of confinement most patients can be granted some smaller freedoms, such as having their upper body unrestrained for leisure time between treatments, although I do have one long term patient who still has not earned that privilege so it just depends on the patient themselves.

Another thing I find helpful is sensory enhancements to necessary treatments and procedures, an example I’ve discussed before is the preparing of tools in an ice bath before insertion. Another common one is diluting a small amount of something like tiger balm or bio freeze in the lubricant for a gyn procedure. If a patient is having trouble grasping that I am the one in control these small additions of corrective sensory input such as these seem to work well in hammering in their position under me.

Once a patient realizes they are not going to be successful in an escape and that the treatment they receive is much kinder and gentler when they obey, they tend to calm down and accept their position as a patient in my care.

[doctorlarch]

“How are we going to do this?” I ask, shaking a small paper cup with rattling pills, already wearing teal gloves knowing the route we will likely be taking. My suspicion was confirmed when the patient in front of me clenched their jaw and shook their head. I sigh, setting down the plastic cup of water as I make my way over to the bed. “You know how this is going to go. You never win, every time you thrash and fight yet you end up taking the pills anyway. Are you sure you don’t want to take the easy way?” I give my patient one more chance to cooperate, not in the mood to force pills down their throat, but they double down. Shaking their head again, not daring to open their mouth to speak. “Suit yourself” I have a firm grip on my patient’s jaw before they could turn away, arms thrashing as best as they could cuffed to the bedrails. Still so defiant after all this time! I calmly use my thumb and forefinger to cover their nostrils. The fierce look in their eyes quickly gave way to panic, looking right at me, my gaze unwavering, unfazed by their antics; I’m used to this routine. It doesn’t take long in their heightened state of panic for my patient to give way and take a gasping breath. As soon as their mouth is open I tip the cup dropping the pills in the back of their throat. Releasing their nose to clamp a gloved hand over their mouth. “Swallow” I command. Eyes glaring at me again, I massage the patient’s throat trying to coax a swallow. Eventually as the pills dissolve on their tongue they relent and swallow. I release my grip and pull out a pen light. “Open” this command is followed, eyes avoid me in defeat, lifting their tongue for me to check beneath without having to be asked. “There we go. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I quip replacing my penlight in the breastpocket of my coat. A glare was all I got in response from the patient in front of me as I snap off my gloves and make my way to the door “I’ll be back in about 30 minutes, you should be feeling the effects by then.”

[doctorlarch]

Patient Chart. Name redacted.

06/12/2026 2:45pm

Patient: XXXX DOB: 12/14/2005

Patient was brought in by his Daddy for his first vaginal stretching session. Patient was unaware of the reason for his appointment upon arrival. Patient was brought back to procedure room 3 by Nurse Becca. Pulse 84. Oxygen Saturation 98%. Blood Pressure 134/89. Becca ensured Patient changed into a gown and connected him to a 6 lead EKG. Patient seemed nervous upon presentation. He was seated on the table, unable to hold still, fidgeting. I conversed with Patient’s Daddy to ensure we were on the same page about today’s procedure. Patient’s heart and lungs sound clear, although his heart was beating rapidly. Patient follows instructions well, allowing me to look in his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose with no issue.

I Instructed the Patient to lie back and secured his legs in the stirrups. His Daddy stood to the side of the table and held both his hands. I position my light, tools, and stool between his legs before scrubbing and donning a procedural gown and gloves. Upon visual inspection Patient's vagina appears healthy and unchanged from last week’s check-up aside from being freshly shaven, as recommended pre-procedure. I palpate the labia majora and minora, no defect detected. Digital vaginal exam reveals no defect either. I inform Patient that we are ready to begin. “Begin what?” Patient asks, indicating his lack of knowledge of the reason for his visit. I explain that he is here for the first of his weekly manual stretching sessions as he is much tighter than a boy his age should be, pulse increased to 102 bpm, indicating his apprehension. With Patient’s Daddy’s consent I continue. I inform the Patient of the two well lubricated fingers entering his vaginal canal and that he should expect a mild stretching as I scissor my fingers inside him. Patient emits a small groan of discomfort, as to be expected. I continue working the two fingers in and out of his vagina until I feel him relax. I inform Patient of the third finger as I work the third finger in. I remind my Patient that he is doing well but he shows signs of distress, Daddy firmly holds Patient in place while offering words of comfort. Pulse increased to 110, oxygen saturation dropped to 94%. I use my free hand to feel the Patient’s femoral pulse as I instruct him to take slow deep breaths, he’s hyperventilating. Daddy coaches Patient through a series of deep breaths and his stats stabilize. I reassure my Patient that he is doing well, we are halfway through now. I leave my three fingers unmoving inside his vaginal canal until he’s adjusted to the fullness.

I inform the Patient that now I need his participation, I instructed him to squeeze down on my fingers for ten seconds. While apprehensive he complies. Whining slightly before I reach ten and allow him to release. We repeat this process four more times with 30 second intervals of rest between each squeeze. Before the second to last set the Patient quietly stated that he “can’t take anymore” Daddy’s reassurance helped and I remind him that he only needs to do it two more times. Patient took a deep breath to prepare himself before the fourth squeeze. During the final rest period Daddy wiped away the tears that had accumulated on the Patient’s face. “Last time” I remind the Patient. He nods indicating he’s prepared and I begin the count. I feel his vaginal walls spasm against my fingers on the last squeeze. Patient releases a sigh of relief as the last count ends. I withdraw my fingers and clean him up. As I clean I began discussing aftercare with Patient’s Daddy, he should expect to feel sore for a day or two post stretching but there should be little pain. If Patient complains of pain beyond a mild soreness he should be brought back in sooner, otherwise he will return at the same time next week for his next stretching session. I remind Patient that he did a good job and was very brave. I reminded them both that with each treatment it will get easier.

I release Patient’s legs from the stirrups and help him sit up. I take repeat vitals: Pulse 82. Oxygen saturation 98%. Blood pressure 128/86. I disconnect Patient from the monitors. Patient is responsive and alert, albeit tired. As to be expected. Patient is cleared to go home. As promised, he got a lollipop on his way out.

Despite his anxiety and obvious distaste for being on my table, Patient was overall cooperative and I believe will respond well to further treatment.

[doctorlarch]

I love the thought of altering my favorite patient’s body in such ways that they cannot live without me. You want to run away? Good luck! You wouldn’t last a day without your meds. Good luck trying to explain what’s wrong to any other doctor. You’d get sicker and sicker in any other hospital while the doctors try and fail to diagnose you. You can’t escape. You need me. I’m the only one who knows how to take care of your poor mangled body. You can hate me all you want but you can never leave.