Peeping into the obstetrics and gynecology ward 4-5

Chapter Four
: Here's a brief explanation. The fat woman and the doctor who treated her had already left the gynecology clinic while I was peeping at the young woman. I'm leaving this explanation here so as not to interrupt the story. When the fat woman and the doctor left, I heard them, jumped off the chair, and pretended to sit idly, attracting their attention without a second thought. They probably even thought I was the young woman's husband. As soon as they left, I quickly climbed back up to continue watching. Because my time down was very short, it barely affected the entire viewing process.
I have a bad temper; if I peep at a woman, especially a beautiful one, I can't help but tell her, let her know she was being watched by a man. This time was no exception.
It was already noon, and it was summer, so there was no one around. I thought this was a good opportunity to harass the young woman. But the gynecology clinic entrance wasn't the right location; I'd wait and find another opportunity.
The doctor and the young woman left the gynecology clinic one after the other. By the time the young woman took her urine sample to the lab, the doctor was gone. The young woman turned and walked towards the hospital entrance, and I followed behind, ready to look for an opportunity to harass her.
"Mommy—, Mommy—!" came a child's cry. Looking up, I saw a two- or three-year-old child stumbling towards the young woman. A short distance behind the child stood a man in his thirties.
"Sweetie, Mommy's here to hug you," the young woman said, bending down to pick up the child and walking towards the man, saying, "Did you have fun playing with Daddy?"
It turned out to be a family of three who had run into each other.
Thankfully, I hadn't said anything to the young woman, otherwise, her husband might have interfered and ruined things. Looking at the man who had ruined my plans, I was furious. But gradually, I felt a surge of amusement, thinking cynically, "
You don't know, do you? I've seen the parts of your wife's body that are meant for you to see, even more clearly than you do. Have you ever seen your wife have a gynecological exam? Have you ever seen cotton stuffed into your wife's vagina? Have you ever seen your wife spread her legs to urinate? You might not even have seen your wife wearing a thong." "Thinking about it that way, I felt relieved.
" "I was so worried outside for so long. I offered to go in with you, but you wouldn't let me. It's fine if I sit by the door." The husband complained affectionately to his wife. "
What are men doing in the OB/GYN? It's so embarrassing." Women are so perceptive. She probably thought that she would be embarrassed to take off her pants and expose her vulva in the OB/GYN while her husband was only separated by a wall, so she had him wait for her in the small park outside the hospital with the child.
"Let's go home," the husband said to his wife.
"I have a urine test in progress, it'll be done soon. The doctor wants me to check the results; if the indicators are normal, everything will be fine; if there are problems, I can come back for another appointment this afternoon. Anyway, we just had breakfast when we came to the hospital, so we're not hungry now. We might as well wait here, to avoid rushing around in this heat."
"Okay." The husband agreed with his wife.
The couple took the child back into the hospital. I heard the husband ask his wife, "Are you feeling unwell?" "
Not really," the wife replied softly, a little shyly.
Hearing the couple's back-and-forth, I thought the wife had just had a gynecological exam, and the couple might be whispering about it—men are naturally interested in that kind of thing, you know. I quietly followed behind, hoping to overhear something.
The child was about to sleep, and the couple wanted to find a cool place for the baby. They found the infusion room; it was empty, but there was a fan. They carried the baby inside and found a corner to sit down. There was a door behind them.
What a coincidence! The young couple never dreamed I'd found a way in again.
There were two infusion rooms side by side. The couple went into one, and I figured I couldn't very well follow them in. Having no other choice, I went into the next room. And lo and behold, there was a door! Apparently, the two rooms were connected by a door at the end of the window. I went over and saw that the door had a large hole in it, with a piece of plywood nailed to the frame, slightly larger than the hole. The frame protruded from the door panel, and the plywood didn't stick to the panel, leaving a gap wider than a finger. The plywood had been nailed from the side of the room where the couple was sitting. I stuck my head through the hole, and through the gap at the bottom of the plywood, I could see the couple's backs and buttocks. Their faces were higher than the hole, so they couldn't see me. They couldn't see the other room and probably thought they'd found a perfect place to whisper. If I just stood by the hole, any sound from the other room would reach my ears.
I pretended to be a lazy person seeking respite from the heat and sat down on the bench by the door, trying not to make a sound.
The couple's conversation drifted over intermittently, and I held my breath, eavesdropping quietly. Their topics were varied, of course; I'll only mention the interesting ones, omitting the trivial ones, which might make it a bit disjointed, but will save space.
Next door, the husband quietly asked his wife: "Didn't you have your period today? Why did you take a urine test?"
"Ugh, don't even mention it, this period is making me suffer so much. The doctor has a way.
" "There is a way, you can't just stop your period, can you? Tell me, what method did you use?
" "You'll never experience that, why would you want to know? You men, you just want to know everything." "
Tell me. Tell me." The husband pleaded incessantly.
"Don't worry about what others might hear. I'll tell you tonight.
" "This hospital is so big, it's just the two of us, who will listen? Just tell me already." "Won't you be bursting tonight?" "
Look how impatient you are. Okay, okay, I'll tell you." The wife scolded playfully, then quietly recounted the process of collecting her urine. When she got to the part where the doctor asked her to massage her clitoris, the young woman shyly nestled into her husband's arms. "Tell me, as a woman,
who could do this in front of others?" "
Did you do it?" the husband pressed eagerly. "
But the urine just wouldn't come out. I had no choice but to shamelessly do it. The doctor was right next to me, and there was a patient lying on the examination table opposite. Ugh, so embarrassing." "
And someone else? A man or a woman?" the husband pressed again.
"Aren't you silly? A man lying on a gynecological examination table? If it really was a man, wouldn't that be incredibly embarrassing? Tell me, if a man really saw me... me
, what would you do?" "
I..." "I'd beat him up.
" "What if that man was a doctor?" "
Well... there's nothing you can do about it then. Besides, male doctors are more skilled and can cure illnesses. How can you get treatment in the obstetrics and gynecology department if you can't see
a doctor?"i=41>" I'll say something shameless, but don't take it seriously. It would be a good thing if a male doctor really examined me. Before, you always begged me to see my...thing. I always hid and avoided letting you see it clearly. That was because I was genuinely reserved. If a male doctor really did examine me, then he'd be a man. A woman's...

"What's so precious about it now that other men have seen it? If other men can see it, why can't my own husband see it too? Maybe then I'll be more open. I'm just talking nonsense." "
You're talking nonsense. Other men haven't seen it, but my own husband can't? You don't let me see it, but
you're happy to let me. Isn't that strange?
" "That's different.
It's for having children; you can't see the baby if you look.
" "You're being hypocritical. Now that we have a child, you don't want
to?
" "I don't want to
, but you insist
, and now you're being unreasonable?
" "Then
why are you so enthusiastic when I'm with you?" "Shame on you.
" "I don't want to
, I don't want
to." The young woman couldn't argue with her husband, so she resorted to pleading. The
fact that the wife wasn't truly angry at her husband's nonsensical words shows that she loves him very much and they are usually very affectionate, hence her casual speech.
The young woman shyly recounted to her husband the discomfort of the cotton ball inserted into her vagina, the tension of the speculum, and the strange feeling of her fingers inside, vividly describing the gynecological examination.
The husband listened attentively, occasionally asking questions like the shape of the speculum and what she was thinking while lying on the examination table. The young woman answered shyly.
During this back-and-forth, I peeked through the gap and saw the husband's hand slowly slip under his wife's skirt; the couple pressed closer together.
The husband whispered to his wife, "You look especially beautiful today.
" "Just like usual, nothing special." "
You still won't admit it. What is this?
" "What does this have to do with looking beautiful? Women use this when they have their periods." It turned out the husband was referring to his wife's thong. Presumably, at that moment, under the young woman's skirt, the husband's hand was definitely touching the thong around her waist, and perhaps even her vulva.
"But you don't necessarily have to use this." This morning I saw you taking this pink one to the bathroom to change, and I secretly laughed at you, thinking you had to dress up inside and out just for a gynecological exam. "
So what? I can't let people think I'm a slovenly woman. There was another woman in there for her exam just now, her genitals were so dirty and smelly, it made the doctor furious. When he was using a speculum, he teased her by using the biggest one, and she screamed loudly. I saw it with my own eyes. Do you want your wife's
vagina to break before you feel satisfied?
You heartless wretch!"
The husband laughed it off: "Look at you, how could I? If my wife's
vagina breaks,
what will I do for the rest of my life?" "Well, the doctor has already seen yours
, let me take a closer look tonight, okay?" "
No, I'm on my period, I can't
.
" "Just a look, I'll definitely hold back, I promise
I won't." The husband vowed.
"Don't try that on me. Do you think I don't know what you're thinking? If you don't let me see
, you'll definitely rape me.
" "Don't put it so harshly. There's no such thing as rape between husband and wife. Please, my dear wife. I'll use a condom, okay? You make it sound like you want to put my
penis
inside you right now
. Feel it here if you don't believe me." The couple moved around, presumably the husband was pulling his wife's hand to touch his penis
. After a while, they stopped moving, but the wife smiled shyly, presumably her hand was already touching her husband's penis
.
"Shameless thing. In broad daylight, aren't you afraid of being seen? We'll talk about it tonight.
" "You really are my good wife. Just wait, I promise, tonight I'll make you
feel good, I'll let you have your fill." "
Save your breath. I'm scared of you, you always threaten to
kill me." "
It's not made of iron,
what will you play with if it breaks?" They joked for a while,
then got up together to get the test results. After they were gone,
I left the hospital too .
===
... As I've already mentioned, the obstetrics and gynecology outpatient clinic at the county public hospital is located in the far left corner of the outpatient building, occupying one side of a U-shaped area. There are six rooms along the corridor: the first on the outermost side is the obstetrics department, the second is the gynecology outpatient clinic, and the last is the gynecology examination room. The first room on the innermost side is the storage room, the second is the doctors' night shift room, and the last is the toilet. Because obstetrics and gynecology is a specialized department, nighttime emergencies are not handled in the emergency room. The county public hospital is responsible for the entire county's affairs, so the obstetrics and gynecology department must have staff on duty for emergencies. However, the county town is a small place with few patients, and patients from rural areas don't need to come to the county town for medical treatment unless absolutely necessary, as there are more basic hospitals there. Therefore, the obstetricians and gynecologists here sleep on night shifts; they sleep in the duty room when there are no patients and only get up to treat patients when they arrive. This county is located in a mountainous area, and the county public hospital is built against the mountainside. The outpatient building was constructed by cutting a section of the mountainside at the foot of the mountain, and the wards are scattered in a small basin in the mountains to the right of the outpatient building. The outpatient building is surrounded by hospital walls on the front and left sides. Behind it, a cliff about ten meters high is carved out of the hillside, with a stone retaining wall at a 70-80 degree angle. On the side of the outpatient building closest to the obstetrics and gynecology department, an iron gate separates the outpatient building from the hospital's front wall. Inside, near the obstetrics and gynecology department window, there's a four-to-five-meter-wide, ten-meter-long fiberglass shed, used for parking hospital staff's bicycles. A sign on the gate indicates opening hours are from 7:00 AM to 7:00 PM.i=61>Because the staff working the night shift usually stay overnight at the hospital, the garage door is locked at night to ensure the safety of the bicycles. I went inside and took a look. Behind the outpatient building, a very high stone wall has been built, from the bottom of the "U" shape of the outpatient building all the way to the slope of the cliff, completely surrounding the left side of the "U" shape. It is about a meter away from the obstetrics and gynecology building.

The hospital fenced off the obstetrics and gynecology department, presumably for privacy. This way, if you could find a way to squeeze through the iron gate, no one outside could see you. The garage was dark, unlit, and located at the foot of a mountain on the outskirts of the city, while the obstetrics and gynecology clinic was brightly lit.
A person in darkness can see clearly what is in light, but from light, they cannot see what is in darkness. There's another characteristic in human thinking: when one cannot see others in darkness from a bright place, they may mistakenly believe that others cannot see them either.
A common scenario is that a person riding a bicycle from a bright place to a dark place assumes that the person in the dark cannot see them and frantically rings their bell; conversely, another person riding from darkness to a bright place, clearly seeing someone in light, assumes that person can see them too and doesn't need to ring their bell. In reality, both people's thinking is flawed.
Considering the whole situation, this hospital's obstetrics and gynecology department is ideal for spying at night from outside the windows; the key is finding a way into the single-room garage. I casually wandered around the garage and the outpatient building, and finally found a way.
There were six rooms in the corner where the obstetrics and gynecology department was located, the last one being the toilet. This toilet was nominally a women's toilet; in our hospitals, obstetrics and gynecology departments usually only have women's toilets. Since there's only a women's toilet here, men can also go in to relieve themselves if they urgently need to, and generally no one minds, at most they'll mutter something like, "How come there isn't even a men's toilet in the hospital? That's unreasonable!" I pretended to be in a hurry to urinate and barged in. Not only did I find a way into the single-room garage, but I also got a glimpse of the women using the toilet. I'll tell you about what I saw in the women's toilet later.
The toilet window was about a meter or so from the stone wall. Like the other rooms, the toilet window had curtains and was blocked by an iron gate. I observed carefully and figured out that the gate was fixed to the window on both the top and bottom with wood screws.
I bought a screwdriver and a drill on the street. When no one was looking, I unscrewed the bottom screw, enlarged the screw hole with the drill, and then inserted the screw into the enlarged hole. This way, when I wanted to peep at night, I could simply pull out the bottom screw of the window, give it a sharp turn, and the bottom of the gate would separate from the window. The top screw would still hold the gate on the window. I could then crawl through the gap and into the garage, specifically into the recessed area between the characters "凹" (U). The small passageway was piled with miscellaneous items, so even if someone entered the garage at night, they could hide here without being discovered. After crawling
in, I would put the gate back in place, draw the curtains, and no one would suspect there was a passageway there. In case of danger, I also prepared an escape route. I could easily jump onto the pile of miscellaneous items and climb over the hospital wall. Outside the wall was a small hill covered with miscellaneous trees, making escape easy.
It was summer, and very hot. Conditions back then were incomparable to now; besides fans, there were no other cooling devices, so we had to open the windows to cool down. Although there were screens on the outside, they could be easily pried open with a screwdriver.
Only one doctor was on duty at night. He would sit in the consultation room during the first half of the night when there were no patients, and sleep in the duty room during the second half. The consultation room was empty.
The consultation room had four sides; two had doors, one of which opened into the corridor and was usually locked, and the other leading to the consultation room. The other two sides had windows; one faced a single-car garage, and the other faced the cliff behind the building. The windows on the other two sides were at right angles.
Curtains hung on the windows, and the open space outside the windows on the other two sides was covered with fiberglass tiles, forming a single-car garage.
After I went in, I pried open the screens on both sides of the consultation room, made small gaps in the curtains on both sides, and even drilled two small holes. As for the consultation room, the curtains weren't drawn very tightly to begin with, so it was easy to see inside.
Having prepared myself for spying, I crawled behind a pile of clutter in the corner of the garage, spread out a sheet I'd grabbed, and half-reclined against the wall. I took out the food I'd brought with me, resting while waiting for the right moment. I knew that if I didn't rest now, the whole night would be hard to endure. Only by resting properly when there was nothing to see could I be alert and focused on my observations when the opportunity arose.
It was quiet all around; I could hear any patient arriving immediately.
I'd already checked the clinic; the doctor on duty that night was a young male gynecologist, who looked no older than thirty.
I thought, tonight's going to be interesting. A female doctor examining a female patient is certainly entertaining, but since they're both women, it's not particularly stimulating. The female patient, because she's only exposing her private parts to another woman, doesn't seem as shy, which greatly diminishes the spectacle. But if a male doctor, especially a young man, is examining a female patient, the woman being examined will undoubtedly feel shy and helpless, making the scene much more interesting. If it were a man in his fifties or sixties examining her, the female patient or her family might feel more at ease.
With no patients around for a while, the doctor sat quietly in the consultation room; the occasional footsteps of the doctor were clearly audible.
Around eight o'clock, I heard a flurry of footsteps. I quickly jumped to the window of the consultation room and saw a heavily pregnant woman in a loose-fitting dress being helped in by a man.
"Doctor, my wife is about to give birth," the man cried anxiously, no longer caring whether the doctor was male or female. "
This way, this way," the doctor said, getting up to greet the patients and leading them into the examination room. Perhaps because it was evening, the obstetrics department was closed, and the examinations were being conducted on the examination table in the gynecology consultation room. Seeing the patients heading to the consultation room, I quickly switched places, getting to the window before them and peering through the prepared peephole.
The doctor guided the patient while asking about her condition. Upon reaching the examination table, the doctor instructed, "Take off your pants and lie down."
The husband, following the doctor's instructions, turned his wife towards him, steadied himself, and squatted down. He reached his hands under his wife's skirt, groped for her underwear, and pulled it down. While the husband was removing his wife's pants, the woman supported herself by his head and shoulders to keep her balance. Only after he pulled her underwear down to her heels did she alternately lift her legs so he could remove the underwear.
Along with the pants, a large stack of wet toilet paper came off. The husband threw the toilet paper into the waste bin under the examination table, crumpled his wife's underwear into a ball, stuffed it into his pocket, and then, using both hands, helped and lifted his wife onto the examination table. He placed her feet down, instinctively pulling her skirt down to cover her vulva. After doing this, he stood aside, hesitating whether to retreat to the outside consultation room to wait or stay in the examination room.
The doctor ignored the husband and told the woman in labor, "Pull your clothes up."
The woman obediently lifted her hips with difficulty, and the husband quickly went to help.
"Up again. Up again," the doctor instructed from the side.
The couple worked for a while, finally managing to pull the skirt up to the woman's armpits, until her breasts were exposed.
The husband's earlier action of pulling down his wife's skirt was completely unnecessary.
After helping his wife adjust her clothes, the husband moved aside to the examination table, appearing ready to help her again at any moment. I knew he just wanted to stay by her side; helping was just an excuse.
The doctor switched on the floor lamp with a "click," illuminating the woman's vulva and abdomen clearly. Her entire belly protruded high, somewhat like a giant watermelon, the stretch marks on it resembling the rind of a watermelon, and her navel bulged out like a bull's eye, like the stem of a watermelon.
Following the belly down, you can see the vulva between the mother's legs. The vulva is very clear under the light. Due to the pregnancy, the vulva looks very ugly. The pubic hair on the mons pubis is messy and extends all the way to the labia majora on both sides. The entire vulva, from the root of the thighs to the anus and inside, is a dark brown color.
Because of impending labor, the vulva was taut and protruding outwards. The labia majora were stretched so taut that their original slightly raised, full shape was no longer visible; they had become two thin, purplish-brown pieces. The labia minora were stretched crooked and twisted. The anus was turned outwards like a pouting mouth. A small, olive-seed-shaped opening was visible in the middle of the vulva, from which a colorless fluid continuously flowed. The fluid dripped down the woman's buttocks and into the waste bin under the examination table, making a "drip-drip-drip" sound.
The woman lay on the examination table, looking extremely painful. Her husband twisted his hands anxiously, watching the doctor. The doctor did not chase the husband away but focused on setting up the equipment, removing instruments, and making various preparations. It seemed that the doctor did not mind examining the woman with her husband present. At this moment, the woman was tormented by intense pain and could not care about such things. However, the husband's eyes revealed not only hope but also a subtle sense of monitoring the doctor.
Frankly, in this situation, the husband is indeed in a very awkward position. On the one hand, as a first-time father-to-be, he feels helpless facing his wife's impending delivery and can only rely on the doctor's help. On the other hand, seeing his wife's private parts, which he himself hasn't had enough of looking at and playing with, being openly viewed and touched by another man is certainly unsettling, yet he feels powerless. It's like a child who has accidentally broken a beloved toy and asks an older child for help to fix it. If he doesn't ask, the toy is broken and he can't play with it; if he asks the older child to fix it, he has to watch helplessly as the older child fiddles with his precious toy, which he doesn't want to let go of for even a moment. It's a real dilemma.
The doctor's face was expressionless; I wonder what he was thinking. If it were me, I would be very happy to be able to examine my wife's vulva in front of my husband.
A series of footsteps came from afar; two or three people were walking towards the obstetrics and gynecology department. The husband quickly went over and closed the door leading to the examination room. The upper part of the door was glass, covered by a curtain. The husband closed the door and then carefully pulled the curtain to both sides until there was no gap. It was clear he valued his wife's privacy. Seeing the doctor was unavoidable, but he didn't want others to see her. So, hearing footsteps and knowing someone was coming, he immediately closed the door and pulled the curtain shut, afraid of being seen by others, especially other men.
"Go to the back and help your wife." The doctor probably thought the husband's swaying was disrupting the work, so she sent him behind the examination table. Just then, the wife groaned loudly in pain, and the husband quickly ran to her side, holding her elbow with one hand and putting his arm around her shoulder under her neck.
The footsteps grew closer. From the sound, it was clear two people entered the obstetrics and gynecology department. One person's footsteps on the terrazzo floor were sharp, like a woman in high heels. The other person's footsteps were deeper, like a man's.
"Xiao Wang. Xiao Wang." "A man called from outside.
"Hey, over here. You're here?!" The doctor responded hurriedly.
They seemed to be friends, as the man didn't call the doctor "Doctor," but rather "Xiao Wang," and the doctor greeted him warmly.
"Bang!" The examination room door was pushed open, and a man poked his head in: "Busy, huh?"
The pregnant woman lying on the examination table and her husband, supporting her, both turned towards the door, while the fluorescent light from the clinic shone through the door frame onto the woman's naked body from another angle. The husband's eyes showed annoyance, but he dared not say anything.
"Sit, sit. Sit outside for a bit, I'll be done soon," the doctor said warmly.
"No rush, no rush, there's still plenty of time, take your time," the man said, and left without closing the door.
The husband stared at the open door, seemingly hesitant to close it, but ultimately remained still, probably still wary after being scolded by the doctor.
While the doctor prepared, I glanced out the window of the examination room. Sure enough, there was a man and a woman, both around thirty years old. The woman sat down at the table, while the man paced back and forth, smoking. It was clear he was selective in his movements, choosing routes that allowed him to see the woman lying on the examination table through the open door. I thought to myself, "Men are all the same, aren't they?"
I chuckled to myself as I returned to the examination room window.
The doctor was almost ready and began examining the woman. He placed his hands on her abdomen, pressing and feeling around, then pulled a flexible tube with a flat, large end from a nearby machine. He placed the tube against the woman's abdomen, and the machine's speaker emitted a "putt-putt-putt-putt" sound.
The doctor pressed down on the large end of the monitor with one hand and turned to adjust the knob
on the instrument with the other. The sound from the speaker became very clear; the doctor was monitoring the fetal heartbeat. After a while, the doctor hung the tubing back on the instrument, turned it off, put on disposable plastic gloves, and inserted two fingers into the mother's vagina, squeezing out a lot of fluid. The doctor stirred around in the mother's vagina for a while, then withdrew his hand, took off the gloves and threw them away. He turned back to the chair at the table, picked up a pen and sat down, and began writing on a piece of paper. The husband put his wife down and stood beside her to watch. After the doctor finished writing, he handed the paper to the husband: "She's about to give birth. Hurry up and get the paperwork done so she can be admitted."
The husband took the paper from the doctor, stuffed it into his shirt pocket, turned around and walked to the examination table. He took out his wife's underwear from his pocket and lifted her leg to put it on her. The doctor said: "No need. She'll be on the delivery table soon. There are sheets on the trolley that comes to pick her up in the ward. Just cover her up and we'll prepare for delivery in the delivery room." "
The husband, feeling helpless, comforted the new mother and went out to complete the admission procedures, closing the door behind him.
The doctor tidied up, turned and left the examination room, leaving the new mother, naked and legs spread, lying on the examination table, unattended. He didn't even close the door; now, the man outside could once again admire the new mother. Her husband's deliberate attempt to close the door was futile.
The doctor called the inpatient department from the outpatient office, then busied himself pouring water and offering cigarettes, chatting with two guests.
It was clear the two men were friends, and the woman was the man's wife. The two men did most of the talking, while the woman sat quietly to the side, a slight smile on her face, rarely interrupting. This woman had delicate features, a refined and demure appearance. Her nose and mouth weren't particularly striking, but her most prominent feature was a black mole above the right corner of her mouth, about the size of a mung bean, standing out sharply on her fair face. Upon closer inspection, it was precisely this mole that accentuated the young woman's allure."
The doctor had already come outside, but the man was still restless. He only sat on the stool the doctor brought him for a short while before getting up and pacing around the room. Although he wasn't staring directly at the woman in labor in the inner room, I could tell that every move he made was to increase the number of times his gaze swept over her and prolong the time it lingered on her.
His wife sat in the corner of the consultation room, unable to see the inner room, so she probably didn't notice what her husband was doing. The doctor, because she was constantly talking to him and frequently glancing at him, should have been aware of it, but she didn't show any reaction. I think she was pretending not to know. Thinking about it carefully, the doctor might have deliberately left the door open for the man when she left. And considering the man's actions after entering—pushing the door, peeking in, backing out, pacing—it seemed like a routine. It seems this wasn't the first time the man had observed naked women here.
Having a gynecologist friend is a blessing.A little while later, the husband of the woman in labor finished the hospital admission procedures and rushed back, sweating profusely. He handed the forms to the doctor as soon as he entered the room, but when he turned around and saw that his wife had been exposed again, he quickly went over and closed the door. He glanced at the pacing man again, probably feeling a mix of emotions. Just think about it, it's already unpleasant for a male gynecologist to see his wife's secret, and then for a stranger to sneak up on him and peek at it. Wouldn't he feel a mix of emotions?

What's even more infuriating is that after the man closed the examination room door, he smiled and nodded at him, as if greeting him, or perhaps conveying his smug satisfaction after spying. You can't be rude when someone smiles at you; your wife was spied on, so you can only swallow your anger, but you still can't be impolite. He greeted you, so you still had to bow and return the greeting, while in your heart you were already
cursing him and his ancestors. And him? He was probably just imagining
your wife. Actually, whether it's ancestors or wife,
it's impossible; it can only exist in your imagination
. But he still has an advantage over you. You don't know what his ancestors were like; even your imagination is fictitious. He, on the other hand, has already seen your wife's naked body, even her most private parts are clearly visible. His imagination
feels far more real than yours.
Two men were putting on a silent show when a trolley rumbled in. A young man in his twenties was pushing it, followed by a female doctor in her forties. The doctor handed the patient over to the male doctor. The young man pushed open the door and shoved the trolley next to the examination table. Supporting the pregnant woman's head and neck with one hand and holding her ankles with the other, he easily transferred her from the examination table to the trolley. The young man, probably used to seeing this, seemed indifferent to the naked woman. I don't know why the other man had been staring at her so intently, but I sensed he had glanced at her during his work, just more skillfully and subtly now.
Because the trolley was positioned sideways in the examination room, after the young man lifted the woman onto it, her feet were facing the examination room, making the poor woman an exhibit once again. The husband quickly grabbed a sheet from the shelf under the trolley to cover his wife.
The young man pushing the cart quickly stopped him: "Wait, we still need to check. The sheets have been sterilized, don't get them dirty."
The husband had no choice but to put the sheets back.
After the female doctor finished her handover, she put on a plastic glove on her right hand and went to the cart: "Spread your legs a little wider."
In front of everyone in the room, the female doctor put her hand into the woman's vagina, felt around for a while: "Hold on tight. Why are you so late?" The female doctor withdrew her hand, took off the glove and threw it away. The young man took out the sheet, unfolded it, and covered the woman from head to toe, then pushed the cart away, with the female doctor and the woman's husband following him out.
A wonderful exhibition came to an end.
The woman was gone, leaving only the male doctor and the couple in the room.
They chatted for a while. This time, the husband also sat down, presumably because there was nothing more to see.
"Let's do it now," the doctor suggested, clearly the couple had important business to discuss with the doctor.
The husband glanced at his wife, who lowered her head without responding.
"Let's do it," the husband replied.
The three stood up. The wife followed the doctor to the examination room, while the husband closed and locked the main door of the outpatient clinic. He then went into the examination room, making sure to close and lock the side door as well. It seemed he was accompanying his wife to the doctor for some examination or treatment.
This guy, so sneaky with other men's wives, yet so protective of his own, fearing no one might peep at him. He never imagined there was another man outside the window. At first glance, the curtains seemed tightly drawn, but upon closer inspection, there was a small gap and several small holes, about the size of coins. This guy couldn't possibly imagine that behind the gap, between the holes, a pair of eyes were sharing his wife's naked body.
The woman was also wearing a dress, but it was fitted at the waist. The woman began to undress, while the doctor, preoccupied with his own preparations, seemed completely oblivious to the woman. The woman reached behind her back to untie the dress, and the doctor quickly said, "No need, no need." "
Haha, stop pretending. The doctor sees everything the woman does."
The doctor's warning came a little too late; the skirt had already loosened, making the dress much looser.
The woman reached under her skirt, hesitated for a moment, then quickly pulled down her underwear.
Following the doctor's instructions, she urinated at the squat toilet in the corner, cleaned her vulva, and, with her husband's help, lay down on the examination table where the doctor had laid out a mat. Instead of immediately stepping onto the footrests, she let her legs dangle in front of the table, her dress covering her thighs, seemingly trying to delay exposing her vulva.
The doctor ignored the woman, preparing instruments while chatting idly with her husband. Once ready, he reached for the examination table, hooked one of the woman's legs onto the footrest, and then helped her with the other leg, muttering, "Don't be nervous, it's a minor procedure, it'll be over in a bit. It'll hurt a little, but it'll pass." "
The doctor positioned the woman's legs and said, 'Since the skirt straps have been loosened, let's lift up her clothes a bit so they won't get in the way during the surgery. Come on, cooperate and loosen your bra too, so it won't compress your breathing.'
He then began to lift the woman's skirt high and reached behind her to unfasten the bra straps.
The husband, seeing the doctor adjusting his wife's clothes, hurriedly helped.
The woman was completely exposed.
Her vulva was unremarkable, quite ordinary. Sparse pubic hair, slightly raised labia, a light brown color. What was noteworthy was a small, bean-sized blue mole near her anus on her labia majora, opposite the black mole at the corner of her mouth. The otherwise unremarkable vulva was accentuated by that small blue mole, appearing somewhat delicate."
The doctor chatted with his friend while working on his friend's wife's vulva. He meticulously cleaned the vulva inside and out with alternating wet and dry cotton balls, paying close attention to the labia majora, labia minora, clitoris, vaginal vestibule, and anus. He was especially careful with the groove between the labia majora and minora, even stretching out and repeatedly wiping the wrinkles on the labia minora. He also cleaned a large area of the groin and lower abdomen above the mons pubis. He muttered, "It has to be clean, otherwise an infection would be terrible." "
I noticed the doctor paid special attention to the blue spots on the woman's labia," the doctor said. "After wiping them with cotton balls, he would rub them with his fingers and pinch them between two fingers to examine them closely, as if investigating whether they were also a lesion." The doctor studied them for a long time, prompting the man next to him to interject, "These things have always been there, could they be a disease too?" "
The doctor stopped, repeatedly saying, 'It doesn't seem like an illness, it doesn't seem like an illness. But since we've examined her, we need to be thorough.'
To me, the doctor's words seemed to mean: 'Since your wife's vulva is now exposed to me, I should take a good look.' Perhaps I'm overthinking it; only the doctor knows what he's really thinking.
At first glance, the doctor seems very responsible towards his friend, being so thorough because it's his friend's wife. But upon closer observation, it's clear the doctor has ulterior motives. Maybe he's thinking that precisely because she's his friend's wife, he needs to be even more careful—one 'just' and the other 'even' have very different meanings. Think about it, only by being thorough can you see clearly and for a long time. Only then can you have the opportunity to add unnecessary, superfluous movements, especially those that are obviously stimulating to women."
I felt the doctor's actions in cleaning the woman's clitoris were somewhat excessive. I saw the doctor use his left hand to peel back the woman's labia, his fingers pulling back the clitoral foreskin to fully expose the tender, red, bean-sized clitoris. With his right hand, he held a damp cotton ball and circled it around the clitoris repeatedly. After a while, he threw away the forceps, took a clean piece of cotton, and began wiping the clitoris directly with his hand, faster and faster, until the woman couldn't help but moan. Only then did he reluctantly stop. To cover it up, while doing this, he explained to the couple, "This area is the hardest to clean. Even if it's not for surgery now, you should be especially careful in general." "
The cleaning of the vulva was finished. The doctor put on a reflector with a hole in the center over his head, adjusted the spotlight in front of the examination table, turned on another spotlight on the side of the table, adjusted its position and angle, washed his hands at the sink, dried them, opened a cloth bag that had been placed on the shelf, picked up a pair of latex gloves, and put them on one by one, crossing them. He took out a rectangular sheet from the bag, unfolded it, revealing a hole about ten centimeters in diameter in the center, and held the sheet by two corners to cover the woman.
Whether it was because it was placed too low or for some other reason, the sheet slipped between the woman's legs and fell onto the waste bin in front of the examination table. The doctor quickly picked it up again; the sheet was now soaked with filth.
"Sigh, the more careful you are, the more mistakes you make." The doctor threw away the dirty sheet, turned back to the cabinet where the treatment supplies were kept, and looked at it: "Isn't it a coincidence? There aren't any left." "
The doctor hesitated for a moment: "It's alright, just be more careful later." He sat back down at the examination table and continued the surgery. He covered the woman's legs with the two small sheets he had left in his bag, leaving her vulva and abdomen exposed. The doctor picked up a stainless steel speculum and whispered, "Don't be nervous. Don't be nervous."
It was unclear whether he was speaking to the woman, her husband, or even himself. It's understandable that he felt a little guilty, having used his position as a gynecologist to manipulate his wife in front of his friends.
The doctor used his left hand to part the woman's labia, while his right hand gripped the speculum handle with four fingers and pressed his thumb against the back of the nozzle. Locating the vaginal entrance, he slowly pushed the speculum horizontally into the woman's vagina. The nozzle slid in little by little, and the woman's vulva gradually changed shape. When the entire nozzle was inside, her mons pubis rose, and the clitoris, usually hidden by the labia, was exposed.
The doctor slowly rotated the speculum handle downwards until it was completely downwards. As the speculum rotated, the woman's mons pubis gradually collapsed, and the labia continued to spread apart, eventually resembling a wide-open mouth. The previously exposed clitoris was now hidden behind the stainless steel flange at the back of the nozzle.
The doctor slowly tightened the speculum handle with his right hand, while his left hand released the woman's labia and rotated the locking nut on the handle. With these movements, the woman's vulva gradually opened, eventually becoming a large, round opening five or six centimeters in diameter.
The doctor leaned down, close to the woman's vulva, adjusting the speculum handle with one hand and the overhead mirror with the other, so that the light shining from the side of the examination table could be reflected into the depths of the woman's vagina. He carefully observed the inside of the vagina through the small round hole in the mirror. Thanks to the mirror, the woman's vagina was brightly illuminated, and I could clearly see the tender pink mucous membrane, the milky white secretions, and the cervix that was occasionally twitching slightly. Of course, the doctor could see even more clearly than I could.
The doctor kept fiddling with the speculum, constantly adjusting its direction, examining it very carefully, like a collector admiring a fine work of art.
"Found it. That's it. Thankfully, nothing's changed; it's still the same size. But polyps are something to be careful about; it's best to remove them early. If they become malignant, it can be a matter of life and death." The doctor, having examined the woman thoroughly, looked up from her vulva and explained the condition to the couple. It turned out the woman had a polyp in her vagina and had come to see her friend, a gynecologist, for treatment.
From the doctor's words, it was clear this wasn't the first time the woman had allowed her doctor friend to examine her vulva. Being a gynecologist must be a cushy job; you can look at your friend's wife's vulva whenever you want. I really regret not studying medicine; otherwise, I could see ten or eight women's vulvas every day, instead of having to sneak around here in the dark, fearful and anxious.
The doctor took a cotton swab from the jar; this time, he was going to clean the inside of the woman's vagina.
First, they used pliers to clamp a large wad of dry cotton and stuffed it into the woman's vagina, stirring it around. After a few stirs, the cotton was covered in vaginal secretions. They replaced it with a new wad and stirred it again, using three or four wads of cotton to clean the vaginal secretions. Then, they used a cotton ball soaked in some unknown medicine to repeatedly wipe the vagina clean. After wiping several times, they clamped a small wad of dry cotton and carefully inserted it into the woman's vagina, meticulously placing it in the indentation in the middle of the cervix. After inserting it, they used the pliers to push it a couple of times, pushing the cotton a little further into the small opening of the cervix. This
was probably to temporarily block the woman's secretions in the uterus to prevent them from flowing out and affecting the surgery. After blocking the cervix, they used a cotton swab soaked in iodine to apply it to a large area of the vagina. The area where it was applied turned yellowish-brown, which was probably where vaginal polyps were growing.
The doctor picked up a can, aimed it at the woman's vagina, and pressed a button. A spray shot deep into the woman's vagina. The doctor pulled the can back slightly and sprayed the vulva and surrounding area again.
Everything was ready. The doctor said to the woman, "I'm going to start now. Don't be afraid, I've already sprayed you with anesthetic. It will hurt a little, but it'll be over soon." He then asked the woman's husband to support her.
After a while, the doctor used forceps to probe the woman's vaginal mucosa and asked, "Does it hurt?" "
Not much.
" "That's all we can do. The surface anesthetic spray only has this much effect. Most people don't need anesthesia for polyp removal surgery."
The doctor turned on a machine, pulled over a tube-like cautery-like device, and inserted it into the woman's vagina, murmuring, "Don't move. Don't move. It'll be over soon."
Wisps of smoke rose from the woman's vulva. The doctor removed the branding iron, picked up the forceps, inserted them into the vagina, and with a sudden jerk, pulled out a small, bloody piece of flesh .
With a "clang," he tossed the forceps and the iron into the tray, then reinserted the branding iron into the vagina, smoke rising again from the vulva.
"All done." The doctor put down the branding iron, inserted a piece of cotton into the vagina, pressed it down, removed it (it was slightly bloody), discarded it, and then inserted a large cotton ball into the woman's vagina. He then loosened the speculum's fixing nut slightly, making the woman's vulva appear much smaller. The doctor gripped the handle and slowly withdrew the speculum from the woman's vagina.
"All done. It will be a little painful tonight, like a burning sensation, and there might be some bleeding. I'll prescribe some anti-inflammatory medication; it should be better tomorrow. I've inserted cotton wool into your vagina; remember to remove it tomorrow. You don't need forceps; just hook it out with your fingers. If you still have pain or bleeding tomorrow, come back to see me. By the way, did you bring your menstrual blood? You'll need to use it." It can both contain the bleeding and prevent infection. No sexual intercourse for two weeks. Brother, you'll have to be patient. The doctor chuckled as he spoke.
The woman, supported by her husband, frowned and struggled to climb off the examination table. She took a menstrual belt from her bag; sanitary napkins had already been placed on it. Her husband reached under her skirt to help her fasten her bra, and she quickly tied the belt. The woman's vulva was hidden from view. She then put her underwear back on, and the treatment was over.
Throughout the entire treatment process, the doctor seemed quite happy, constantly chatting, joking, and making small gestures. The patient couple, however, were a different story. Throughout the entire process, the woman lay on the examination table, neither looking at the doctor nor her husband, her eyes mostly half-closed. Even when she occasionally opened them, she just stared blankly at the ceiling.
One can imagine how incredibly shy a woman would feel, having her most private parts repeatedly viewed and touched by another familiar man in the presence of her husband.
The husband, on the other hand, experienced a different kind of discomfort. His wife's vulva, which was originally his exclusive property, was now willingly offered up for another man to see and touch to his heart's content. What secrets would there be left between them?
While the doctor was treating his wife, he frequently showed signs of agitation, pacing around the room, rubbing his hands, scratching himself under his clothes, never quiet for a moment.
I wondered, what was the point of all this? Vaginal polyps are not a serious problem. They can be treated thoroughly through normal channels by a regular female doctor. Why should your wife be displayed like an exhibit for your friends?

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Peeping into the obstetrics and gynecology ward 4-5

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