Nude Psychology

The Infirmary had its row of beds, but it also had the standard doctor’s office exam table. Frances really disliked them. It was difficult even for taller people to get up on the table. “I don’t have to be examined. I’m okay.”

“Are you a doctor?” said the woman who would probably have little difficulty getting on the table.

“Are you?” Bertrille challenged back.

“I have a Masters Degree. I will officially be a doctor when I get my PhD,” Carlotta said, taking off the only thing she had on, her camera, and setting it aside.

“But you’re not a medical doctor!” she lawyered.

“I have medical training. I am a psychologist.”

“But not a psychiatrist!” Bertrille said with satisfaction.

The nude psychologist was unfazed. “Would you like me to call on somebody qualified to give you ****.? No.? Please, get on the examination table.”

“Would you like me to help you, Miss Frances?” offered Dick.

“No! I can do it myself.” Frances thought if she were helped, it would make her seem like a child, rather than the adult she had so recently become. She was just short!

Even with a hospital gown, there was no way to climb up on the exam table with any dignity. There was less naked. Her butt and sex had to be made entirely visible to those behind her. At least they could have done was _not _be behind her. _Nudists! _They have no regard for a person’s modesty!