When you go to the doctor, especially when you're younger, the doctor is all powerful. Your mom has told you that you must do as the doctor says -- you don't really have a choice in the matter. When you're young that usually means swabbing your throat and making you gag, massaging his fingers into your stomach to feel your internal organs, or delegating power and having the nurse give you shots. Whether you want to have these things done or not isn't relevant. Your mom or dad is there saying you have to let him do it. For us girls, that first trip to the gynecologist is a nightmare.
At its heart, that's power play. Power exchange. Especially when we're in our teens and early twenties, before we are writing the checks to the doctor. And then even after we are writing the checks, we have to grow self confident enough to learn that we're paying the doctor and we can stop things if we want. Or that we can find another doctor. But in the first half dozen or so times we submit to a gynecological exam, we have zero power. We have been convinced we have to submit to whatever the doctor does. Our bodies and minds get programmed to react a certain way in these medical settings, and that can make medical play more interesting as an adult.
When we're older we kind of have a choice, but not really. We can choose to just not go, but if we have people who love us and depend on us then that's not really responsible of us. So, we go. And we let the doctor feel of our breasts, pluck at our nipples, and insert cold things into our most private parts.
My gynecologist is an older woman who is a vegetarian like I am. She's a grandmotherly sort of figure and she has never hurt me. I don't get into the actual visit. If I did then I'd find a hot looking young male gyno - LOL.
My husband enjoys medical play though, and he's got lots of tools to play with. He has vaginal speculums, anal speculums, a whartenburg wheel, more enema equipment than I care to list here, and even catheterization stuff. (Boring safety warning: The latter doesn't get used often, and he's been taught how to safely do it by a kinky RN. Don't play around with catheterization unless the Top knows what they are doing. Urinary tract infections are nothing to mess around with.)
In the 'before kids' portion of our relationship, my husband and I played in Atlanta at a place that had rooms set up for different kinks. There was a medical room, complete with a table from a gyno's office. Stirrups and all. He loved it. And while it wasn't my favorite, I loved that it turned him on so much, so it was still good for me. Plus, I think it brought back some of that fear and trepidation and loss of control I felt in those first visits to the gynecologist. But more so. Having your feet not only placed in the stirrups, but restrained to them... it sent a large shot of adrenaline (or something) into my system. Sometimes fear can be a wonderful seasoning on top of everything else.
The largest contradiction of all of this in my mind is the cath procedure. I hate it, and yet it is kind of the epitome of power exchange, so it is also too big to do away with. Once the cath is in then the Dom controls something so basic, something all of us just automatically assume is supposed to be under our own control. And if it's something the Dom only does occasionally... say once a year, then it's something the submissive will never have a chance to get used to. It's... overwhelming and scary and just huge.
One of the biggest differences in medical play and normal everyday D/s is the attitude of the Top, who becomes the doctor or nurse in this scenario.
The anal speculum keeps getting wider, and wider. Slowly, ever so slowly, it is opened until it seems the spreading will never stop. You gasp at the sensations flooding your mind, the feeling of muscles that are usually clenched closed being opened, being forced to remain open, and inexorably being expanded wider than you ever thought possible. The doctor says, "Yes, I know it is uncomfortable, but we must have room to work. We'll go slowly but we still have a ways to go."
It's clinical, cold. Power exchange at its most basic. When you walk into the doctor's office you know you won't be harmed, but you know it's likely to be uncomfortable, and very well may end up hurting. When your husband dons his white coat and ties you into position at the edge of the bed, with your legs tied up in the air at ten and two o'clock and your wrists restrained to the outside of your thighs, you know it's going to hurt, but you also know you won't be harmed.
Do you enjoy medical play? Is there a particular activity you enjoy, or is it the sum total of the whole experience?