When men refuse to serve women, there’s a solution. Send them to the Men’s Sex Clinic and get them fixed.
Amity Harris
Doctor’s Orders – The Men’s Sex Clinic
Five evil nurses and strict doctors at the Men’s Sex Clinic
When a medical practice is sold to a national company, five nurses meet the new doctors – all women – to learn how to use their cutting-edge methods for treating men’s sexual dysfunction. The doctors have pioneered the newest techniques and have achieved success so often, the waiting list for appointments spans months. Men with no physical reason for their problems undergo intimate exams, first with the nurses whose orders are to examine and assess every part and then the doctors, women who have written the books on up-to-date techniques. Finally, they’re are sent to long-term group therapy where they are subjected to effective but brutal treatment. The clinic has never had a failure because refusal to follow the doctors’ orders gets a patient literally thrown out. They know they have no choice but to submit to the degrading treatment if they ever want that part to work again.
In five episodes with five nurses who love their jobs, men are subjected to intimate and very complete inspections by the nurses who administer each doctor’s orders without fail. Efficiency is the clinic’s watchword so some patients with similar problems are evaluated in small groups. Even the new patient gowns were designed with cost-savings in mind.
The old expression that no pain – physical and psychological – produces no gain takes on an entirely new meaning.
This novel is for adults only and contains forced medical experiments, intimate examinations of body parts. And five evil nurses.
The Men’s Sex Clinic – Five Evil Nurses and Five Strict Doctors – Prologue
“WHERE’S THE DOCTOR?” Ben demanded after the nurse finished the cursory blood pressure check and finger stick. He’d waited at least 15 minutes before the nurse even got to him and he didn’t want to spend the rest of his morning waiting for Dr. Greenfield, his regular doctor who invited everyone to call him Dr. Mike. Ben was surprised the front office rescheduled his appointment last week to this Friday. That was Dr. Mike’s usual day off and only the most senior doctors got Friday off. Ben agreed to the change because Dr. Greenfield had to adjust his schedule that week, the receptionist said. Ben wanted to see Dr. Greenfield about his particular problem so he juggled his Friday meetings as best he could. That put him on a tight timetable.
Ignoring Ben’s question, the nurse tapped the exam results into her tablet. Angela was proud to be Dr. Greenfield’s nurse for so long but after the buyout, several of the older doctors like Dr. Greenfield retired. Angela couldn’t afford to retire. She was too young and that meant she had to get used to working for another doctor.
She’d met the new doctor briefly. Her name was Dr. Johnson, Dr. Christina Johnson, she said as if she was speaking to a grade schooler. Angela said, “Call me Angie,” but Dr. Christina said no, she’d use her given name. Her new nametag said “Nurse Angela.” They didn’t even print her last name.
When Ben was sent to the exam room by the receptionist, Angela was already in a foul mood. She had chatted with the other nurses in the break room over their usual pre-rounds coffee. Their dispositions were similar to hers. The company that bought the practice offered excellent salaries and benefits so none of the nursing staff quit. At least that much would stay the same.
The nurses and lab techs loaded their cups into the dishwasher when a green light lit over the break room door.
Treating us like cattle, Angela thought. She missed Dr. Greenfield’s perky, “Let’s heal some folks!” That was the usual way he started the day’s rounds.
When Angela heard Ben’s testy question about Dr. Greenfield’s whereabouts, it compounded how much she missed him. It hadn’t even been a week since the takeover and Angela wasn’t in the mood for idle chatter with a patient. He could wait until Dr. Christina Johnson walked in. She could explain her tardiness herself.
Her screen refreshed with the doctor’s updated orders. Angela read them twice. Yesterday’s meeting made it clear that nurses did not question the computerized orders they received on their new tablets nor did they modify them in any way. They were to do as instructed and all orders would be communicated via the new portable devices. Like the other nurses, Angela needed her job so prepping the patient exactly as Dr. Johnson uploaded in her instructions was what she’d do. No matter how odd they seemed.
The first directive was simple. Have the patient strip and put on the gown supplied. Angela opened the drawer to hand him a gown but the regular ones were gone, replaced by a pile of bright pink ones that looked and felt different from the short back-tie patient gowns they always used.
Angela reread the instructions. She missed a few words the first time. It said, “Have the patient strip and put on the pink gown.” The second instruction was equally clear. “Stay in the room to make sure he follows instructions.”
Angela sighed. This new company that bought the Men’s Clinic had strange rules but there was nothing she could do about it.
The patient was going to strip and she was going to watch him do it.
