By K. Nitsua
I didn’t have any trouble finding the office from the directions the doctor had given me. It was on a quiet residential street just off a main city thoroughfare. I parked in the driveway as he had instructed and walked toward the door. Up until now I hadn’t been nervous, concentrating on the drive, but now my breath quickened and my heart began to beat faster.
It hadn’t been easy to get this appointment with such a distinguished physician. Dr. Roberts and I had an extensive chat online before he determined that I was qualified for one of his physical examinations.
It was a hot late spring day. I had on a T-shirt, jeans with a jockstrap, my favorite underwear, underneath, and old Nikes. I wasn’t going to keep the clothes on for long anyway, so there wasn’t any need to dress more formally.
I was walking a little funny because my bladder was uncomfortably full. Dr. Roberts had told me to drink a lot of fluids before I came so that I could give a urine sample without difficulty as part of the physical examination. I’d overdone it a little in my eagerness to comply with his instructions.
I got to the door and knocked. It opened right away and finally I saw the doctor in the flesh. He was exactly as I’d hoped he’d be: tall, trim, and distinguished looking with neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper hair. He wore wire-rimmed glasses that accentuated a pair of friendly gray eyes. His teeth were white and even when he smiled.
“You must be Dirk,” he said, sticking out his hand. “Right on time. Come in and have a seat.”
He ushered me into a front room with a desk. He motioned me to sit in a chair in front of it, which I did. Sunlight filtered in through the shaded window. He rummaged in a box on the floor and pulled out a binder before he sat down.
“Since it’s your first visit to the Male Clinic, I’ll do an intake interview with you,” Dr. Roberts said. “Please answer the questions as thoroughly and truthfully as you can, even if some of them seem intimate or embarrassing. The more I know about your medical and sexual history, the better examination I can give you. Do you have any questions or concerns?”
“No, Doctor. I’m prepared to answer your questions to the best of my ability. I’m putting myself in your hands.”
Dr. Roberts smiled. “Good. Let’s begin.” He opened the binder.
The intake interview took fifteen or twenty minutes. The first questions were standard ones that I’d answered at doctor’s offices many times before, about my medical history, past surgeries, any current symptoms, drug allergies, etc.
Then Dr. Roberts’ questions became more personal and detailed. He asked me whether I had any phobias, specifically about sensory deprivation or restraint. “No–in fact, the idea kind of excites me,” I said truthfully, with a smile.
“Good,” he said, returning the smile. “Now there will be a series of questions about your sexual history. Again, please be as truthful as possible with your answers.”
We talked for ten or fifteen more minutes. By the time he was done with the questions my heart was beating fast and my cock was rock hard, even though my bladder was aching for release.
“I think we’re ready to begin,” the doctor said. “Will you please follow me into the examination room?”
We walked down a narrow hallway, past a bathroom, up a flight of stairs, and into a spacious room in the rear, which took up the entire width of the office. A padded examination table stood in the middle. The walls were lined with shelves, holding medical equipment of every conceivable kind. I recognized stethoscopes, padded hammers for testing reflexes, and a few other things, but there was too much for me to take it all in.
“First,” the doctor said. “I’d like you to undress down to your briefs. Place your clothes on this chair,” he said, gesturing to one that stood nearby.
“Yes, doctor.” I unbuttoned my shirt with fingers that were trembling with excitement. In moments I was naked except for my jockstrap. I covered my crotch protectively with my hands and stood before him with downcast eyes for inspection.
“Very nice,” Dr. Roberts said. “You’re wearing a jockstrap. You do that often?”
“Very good for scrotal support,” he said. “And very sexy. Now this,” he said, producing a paper hospital gown, “is not so sexy. I’m going to ask you to put it on.”
I put my arms through the short sleeves. He put his arms on my shoulders and gently turned me to tie the gown in back. I started as I felt his hand touch my bare butt.
“Sorry, I know my hands are cold,” the doctor said. “I’m going to ask you to sit on the examination table now.”
Perched on the examination table in the hospital gown and jockstrap, I watched as Dr. Roberts gathered together his equipment and put it on top of a cart covered with a towel. The exam began pretty routinely, as the doctor grasped my wrist and looked at his wristwatch while taking my pulse. He then looked into my eyes with a small light, then into my ears with another scope. He even produced a tongue depressor, pushed my mouth and tongue this way and that, and asked me to say “aah.” I suppressed a smile at the old-fashioned procedures.
“Now I’m going to take your blood pressure.” He expertly wrapped the cuff around my upper arm and squeezed the rubber bulb. I felt the pulse inside my arm as he gradually let the air out.
“One hundred ten over seventy,” he announced. “Excellent. You’re in great shape.”
“I work at it.”
His eyes scrutinized my body. “It shows.”
The doctor cleared his throat. “From here on I’m going to examine various areas of your body. It may be easier for me to do this if you remove the gown. If you are uncomfortable doing so, you may keep it on.”
I looked him in the eye. “I can take it off.”
“Good.” He watched as I lifted my arms and undid the strings in back. I lifted it off and handed it to the doctor, shivering a bit in the chilly room.
“Are you cold?”
“A bit,” I said truthfully.
He looked at my chest. “I can tell. Your nipples are erect. We’ll get some measurements in a minute.” He put his face close to mine as he gently palpated the sides of my neck. “Checking your lymph nodes. No problem here.” He then picked up a stethoscope and put the ends in his ears. “Now I’m going to listen to your heart and lungs.” The cold metal pressed against my pectoral muscles, sending another shiver through me. “Good.” He moved around me and the stethoscope pressed into my back. “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Again. Again. Good. Lungs are clear.”
He came back and faced me again. “Stand and place your palms in back of your head, please. I’m going to inspect your skin for any suspicious looking moles or growths.” I followed his instructions as he bent to put down the stethoscope. When he straightened he held a small magnifying glass. Dr. Roberts then moved in very close again as he started at my neck and moved slowly down my body with the magnifying glass, examining every inch of my skin. He put the glass in his pocket. I started to relax, but he said–
“Keep your palms behind your head. We’re going to do a little test.”
“What kind of test?”
A slight smile. “In our preliminary interview you told me that your nipples were very sensitive. We’re going to find out just how sensitive. Now, do your best not to move or react, no matter what I do.”
He stood very close in front of me and gazed into my eyes intently. I gasped as I felt the light, cool touch of a fingertip on each of my nipples. My breath quickened as his hands and fingers began to move, fondling, squeezing and gently pinching each nub of flesh. My cock swelled and strained against the pouch of the strap as the doctor continued the stimulation. Despite the doctor’s instructions a small whimper of pleasure welled up from my throat. He smiled.
“Remember what I said.”
“Yes, doctor,” I gasped out with some difficulty.
“Is this painful or unpleasant for you?”
I laughed, unable to help myself. “Hell, no. Oh my god-it’s wonderful.”
Dr. Roberts produced a metal tube from his pocket and squeezed out some of its contents onto his fingertips. “I see that your nipples are a powerful erogenous zone. Let’s try some moist stimulation.”
When he began to rub the K-Y onto my tits I lost control, throwing back my head and moaning. It was all I could do to keep my hands locked behind my head. I felt moisture in my crotch and felt precum from the head of my cock soaking through the elastic webbing of my jock pouch.
“Yes?” The doctor said, continuing his stimulation.
“I’ll cum if you do that any more. No kidding.”
“Really? I guess that gives me my answer. Let’s take a measurement.” He produced a small metal ruler and pressed it against my chest. “One centimeter in diameter and a bit more in height when fully erect. You can lower your arms.” He stepped back. I let my arms fall limp at my sides and stood, still panting, head hanging, a bit embarrassed that I had become so aroused.
“I’d say on a scale of 1 to 10 of nipple sensitivity you’re a 10. Next, turn toward the table so I can examine your back and buttocks.” In a moment he said, “Bend forward and spread your cheeks.”
He knelt and spent a long time looking at the skin on my rear end, holding his face so close I could feel his breath on my cheeks and my asshole. I was trembling again from the cold and from the excitement of being scrutinized so intimately. He moved the glass down the backs of my legs, then asked me to straighten up again. He moved around to my front so that his face was right in front of the now moist pouch of my jock. His hands took hold of the waistband. “I’m going to lower this garment to examine the pubic area.”
He slowly pushed the jockstrap down my thighs. My cock flopped out, half-hard with excitement, the head glistening with the pre-cum I’d leaked already. The doctor once again took his time, passing the glass over my groin and pubic area. After the visual exam was done, he took my penis and lifted it with one hand, taking each testicle and cradling with the palm of the other, then gently rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.
“In case you’re wondering, I’m doing a testicular exam to check for cancer. This is the way to do it, if you don’t know already.”
“I see that you are circumcised. I’m going to take the head of your penis and press on it to spread the urethral opening. I’m checking for any discharge that may indicate disease.”
I was looking around the room, trying desperately not to let myself throw a full-boned erection. Feebly I tried to joke about the situation. “You can probably tell I’m discharging already.”
Doctor Roberts’ voice was dry. “A normal by-product of sexual excitement, quite harmless.” I gasped as I felt his finger spread the pre-cum over the head of my cock, sending a wave of pleasure through me. “Checking the consistency of the fluid. Totally normal pre-ejaculate.”
He took hold of my jock, but instead of raising it back in place he pushed it all the way down to the floor and looked up at me.
“With your permission, I’m going to remove your garment. The rest of the examination will be easier if you are completely unclothed. Are you comfortable with this?”
I was trying not to shiver. My breathing was quick. My heart was beating fast with nervousness-and arousal. I nodded. “Whatever you say, doc.”
“Good.” He lifted both my feet out of the strap, picked it up, and put it on top of the rest of my clothes. “Now I’d like to get a urine sample.” He stepped to a nearby table, picked up a large glass laboratory beaker, and turned back to me.
My bladder was painfully full, but even so, it’s always hard to pee in front of another person, particularly when you’re naked and semi-hard and the other person is clothed and staring intently at you. My first attempts to get the stream started were a total failure. I sighed with frustration.
“Would turning away from me help? You can if you wish.”
“Thanks.” I turned around, closed my eyes, took some deep breaths and tried to relax. Finally golden liquid began to flow into the container. And flowed. And flowed. The relief was exquisite. By the time I was finished the beaker was nearly full. I turned back to the doctor and held it out. He smiled.
“Your bladder sure was full, wasn’t it? This will have to be held until we can send some to the lab.” He took the container and left the room. In a moment he was back. “You’ve been very cooperative so far. Good job.”
I blushed and lowered my eyes. “Thanks, doctor.”
I felt a hand under my chin, gently but firmly lifting my head until my eyes met his. “As this medical exam continues you may experience some psychological as well as physical discomfort. I can assure you that anything that I do is for your health and welfare. Are you prepared to obey without question, to trust me?” His gaze was level, his voice cool and professional. I nodded without hesitation.
“You’re the doctor. I’ll do anything you say.”
“Good boy.” He smiled. “We’re going to go back to the examination table. I’d like you to mount it and assume the position on your hands and knees.”
I walked to the table, shivering with cold and excitement. I climbed on and crouched as the doctor had ordered, elbows and knees on the padded top of the table, my bare ass in the air.
“Lower your head. I’m going to take your temperature rectally. It’s the most accurate way, though most doctors don’t want to embarrass their patients.”
I gasped as something narrow, cold and rigid was inserted into my asshole. My muscles automatically clenched around it. I felt the doctor’s hand on my cheeks, trapping the thermometer between his fingers, preventing it from being drawn in and disappearing into my insides.
Doctor Roberts chuckled. “A strong response. I’m going to have to hold it in place. Stay as still as you can. This will only take a minute.”
The room fell silent except for the raspy sound of my breathing. My face was on fire with embarrassment as I was forced to hold this humiliating pose. My cock was rock hard underneath me. I could feel precum being squeezed from its tip every time my rectal muscles involuntarily clenched around the thermometer. Occasionally the doctor’s fingers holding the thermometer in place moved, seeming to caress my cheeks. Finally he grasped the thermometer and withdrew it.
“Ninety-eight point six. Absolutely normal. Now will you turn over onto your back, please.”
Once I was on my back, he began to press on various places on my lower body, palpating my organs, occasionally asking me to take deep breaths and let them out. Although he approached my private parts, he did not take hold of them as he had earlier. His touch was firm and professional and I began to relax a bit.
“Doing okay?” The doctor asked. I nodded.
“Good. I want you to be relaxed for this next phase of the examination. I’m going to test your sensory perception when you are deprived of visual cues,” said the doctor. “I will blindfold you with a special light-blocking mask, very high-tech, and restrain your limbs. This is so that you will focus exclusively on the sense being tested. Are you ready?”
In a moment Dr. Roberts loomed above me with the high-tech blindfold. It looked like a pair of safety goggles, but completely black. Sure enough when he placed in on my face and tightened the strap around my head everything became pitch black even though nothing was touching my eyes and they could stay open.
I felt my legs being gently spread apart, and fastened in place with straps. My arms were then lifted over my head. The doctor gently made me bend them until my hands almost touched my head. I heard the clink of metal and felt something soft encircle first my right, then my left wrist. I realized I was spread-eagled and shackled to the table. A thrill of mingled arousal and fear passed through me as I realized how completely at his mercy I was now. I had no choice but to trust him, fully and completely.
“We will begin the test now,” the doctor said in a soft voice. “I will touch various parts of your body with various objects and substances. Describe to me any sensation you feel-temperature, pressure, sharpness, anything. There should not be anything that will cause you more than mild to moderate discomfort. If at any time you want the test to stop, indicate your wishes by saying ‘mayday.’ Do you understand?”
I nodded. “‘Mayday’. Got it.”
“Here we go.”
A moment later I chuckled. “Very gentle touch. Your fingertips on my stomach.”
“Right.” I gasped as my right nipple was fondled, lightly and gently. “A-a feather?”
“Mm hmm. Good. Are you ticklish?”
Before I could answer I started as the same object touched my rib cage.
The doctor’s voice took on a teasing note. “Are you?” He tickled me again with the feather and I shouted with laughter, jerking and straining at my bonds. “Stop! Please!”
“Okay, I will. For now,” he said, in a mock-ominous tone.
A pause, then I felt cool moisture on my stomach and a sharp minty aroma filled my nostrils. “Whew, feels cool. Ben-Gay?”
“That’s right. A little menthol rub.” The next moment I gasped as the same substance was applied to my nipples. The pleasure was exquisite and I sighed and strained at my bonds as the doctor’s fingers continued to move in gentle circles on the sensitized nubs of flesh.
“Oh God,” I moaned.
“You’re getting erect again,” the doctor observed in a dry voice. “Yes, your response to nipple stimulation is an exceptionally strong one.”
He withdrew his hands. A pause, and then I heard a sound, which I recognized as the striking of a match. The sharp odor of sulfur assailed my nostrils. A thrill of real fear raced through me.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“Now, now, don’t worry. I promised-no pain, no physical injury. Maybe just a bit of discomfort, though.”
The next moment I screamed, more in shock than in pain, as I felt something burning hot drop onto my right thigh. It quickly cooled to a tolerable warmth and I braced myself for another hit.
“Ah!” Another fiery liquid hit on my ball sac.
“You haven’t told me what you think it is,” the doctor murmured.
“Candle wax, it’s fucking hot wax!”
“Very good.” Two more hits, one on each nipple. My back came off the table as I cried out each time the melted wax hit a sensitive zone. I strained uselessly against the bonds holding me in place. I was panting with mingled fear and yes, arousal.
“OH FUCK!” I screamed, as flaming agony erupted from the head of my erect cock, where the doctor had dropped one more splash of wax.
“Yes! Yes! Please stop! Mayday!”
“You needn’t worry about suffering any permanent damage. Paraffin melts at a very low temperature, actually. Just hot enough to give you a bit of a jolt. Now lie still and I’ll remove the blindfold.”
When I could see again I looked down at the splotches of congealing wax on my body, the skin pink underneath each one, then up into the doctor’s face.
“Amazing how lack of vision increases sensitivity, isn’t it?”
There was nothing I could say to this, so I didn’t say anything. Dr. Roberts scraped the lumps of wax off with his fingertips, being gentle with my somewhat softened cock, and brushed the crumbs off the table. He released me from my bonds.
“Just lie there a moment and relax. I know that was a bit stressful for you.”
“A bit,” I agreed, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
“But you enjoyed it, didn’t you?”
For a moment I was speechless, then slowly I nodded. “Yeah. In a way I guess I did. Does that make me some kind of pervert?”
The doctor’s expression was serious. “We’re so quick to label behaviors weird or perverse. If two adults are involved and there’s mutual consent, neither person getting harmed, then there’s nothing wrong with whatever it is they’re doing.”
He patted my stomach. “What this is all about today is your giving up control. That’s a strange and difficult thing for a man to do. You’re doing very well, by the way. Shall we continue?”
My mouth was dry as I looked up at him and nodded yes.
“Good. We’re going to move on to the final phase of the examination, the rectal and prostate exams and the collection of a sperm sample.”
There was no point in trying to pretend my cock wasn’t rock hard. He could see it as plain as day. Like a good doctor, though, he gave no indication that he noticed.
“In order to give you the best possible exam your system has to be thoroughly cleaned out. Have you ever had an enema?”
“Well, I have cleaned myself out. For, you know…”
Doctor Roberts smiled. “This will be a little more extensive than that, but at least you’re familiar with the idea. I’ll be back in a moment.”
He disappeared and returned in a little while, carrying a large glass pitcher with measuring markings on the side filled with water and an object that at first I didn’t recognize. It was a rather squat plastic bottle, again with markings on the side, with a black, conical nozzle. Through the plastic I could see that it was filled with water and a tube hung down into the inside.
“This device,” the doctor announced, “is sold as a nasal rinse. However, because of its construction it works very well for our purposes. Turn onto your left side, away from me, and raise your right knee toward your chest, please.”
I obeyed, exposing my asshole to him.
“We’ll need just a little lubrication.” I felt a gloved finger apply a cold hit of lubricant. “Now, take deep breaths. Relax as much as you can.”
I felt the nozzle press against the opening, then enter. The next moment warm liquid flooded into my bowel, almost too warm to be comfortable. I didn’t fight it-in fact, it felt good.
“Very good, we’re almost finished with this first bottle,” the doctor murmured. “As I continue adding liquid, you may start to feel cramping. This is normal, and should not be unbearable. You’ll be required to hold the fluid in for a certain amount of time. I’ll monitor the situation closely.”
He withdrew the squeeze bottle and I heard him filling it again. The next bottleful began to flow in and I began to feel full-very full-inside. It was a strange mixture of arousal and discomfort.
“How many more?” I asked.
“Let’s see. I think you’ll be able to take two more. That’ll make about a quart of fluid.”
“Really?” I was nervous at the thought.
“You’ll be fine. This is a saline solution, so it won’t upset your system. Plain water could thin your blood too much.” The doctor grasped my shoulder reassuringly. “Nothing bad will happen, I promise.”
“Okay.” The third bottleful of warm water was squeezed into me. Now I really began to feel uncomfortably full, and I shifted to try and ease the cramps. Dr. Roberts ran his hand along my stomach, gently. “You’re feeling it now, aren’t you? Breathe deeply, keep relaxed. You’re doing great. Just one more bottle.”
I groaned as yet more liquid flowed into my system. My stomach was distended from the water inside.
“All done.” The doctor put down the bottle. “Now, we’ll take a few minutes to let your system adjust.” He began to rub my stomach again. “I’ll let you know when you can expel the liquid. The bathroom is nearby.” He pointed in its direction. “When I tell you too, get up SLOWLY off the table and proceed there. Don’t hurry, even though you may feel like running. We don’t want to have an accident,” he chuckled.
He bent over close to me, his hand never stopping its gentle motion on my body. “Breathe…relax…” he whispered into my ear. I did my best to obey him and ignore the cramping urgency in my body.
Finally, he said, “I think you are ready to evacuate. Remember what I said. Get up slowly. Walk slowly. Leave the bathroom door open.”
I found out what he meant when I moved-my insides lurched with their watery burden and almost betrayed me right there. With an effort I avoided disaster and began walking toward the bathroom. In the midst of my embarrassment and discomfort I felt another, surprising sensation. I looked down at my semi-erect cock.
I made it to the toilet just in time. As I quickly sat down and let myself go I looked up and saw the doctor coming toward me. He stopped at the door, leaning against the frame and looking intently at me as the “evacuation” continued.
My face felt hot as I blushed. The doctor nodded. “I know this is embarrassing for you,” he said. “It’s for your own safety. Sometimes people have odd reactions-most often, faintness and dizziness. It’s best if I monitor the situation until you’re through.”
“Aw, fuck,” was all I could say. No one had watched me take a shit since I was a toddler and the humiliation was intense. I bowed my head and tried to tune out everything. The next few minutes seemed really long, but finally it was done. I flushed and stood up.
“Stay there.” The doctor disappeared and came back with a washcloth. “Turn around and bend over, I’ll clean you up.”
When he was done, he said, “Now we’re ready. I’m going to lead you to a special table for the final phase of your examination. This way, please.”
I had seen the equipment he was talking about when I first walked in. It was a table with two additions at either end. At the head end, which was raised at an angle, there was an extension, a flat board with two wrist restraints attached to it. At the foot a tall scaffold had been attached to the legs, so that a bar ran horizontally several feet above the end. Two leather rings hung on chains from this bar.
The doctor’s voice was low and soft behind me. “You will be restrained at both ends. The stirrups will force your legs to stay apart, allowing me maximum access to your anus, rectum and prostate. Your wrists will be bound, making you unable to resist. I will of course not physically harm you in any way, but you will be totally at my mercy. I want to make sure of your consent before we proceed. Do I have it?”
I waited a long moment, then nodded. “Yes.”
He patted me gently on my bare shoulder. “Good boy. Please assume the position.”
I got on the table and turned onto my back. He raised each of my arms above my head and snapped the restraints into place, then lifted my legs and passed them through the leather rings. When he was done he stepped back, regarding me silently. I noticed that there was a definite bulge between his legs, visible through the long white coat.
“Some of my patients ask to be hooded, blindfolded, or gagged. Since you are a first-time patient, I will omit those steps.” For the first time a slight leer crossed his face. “My guess is you’ll want to see what’s going on.”
I lay bound, spread-eagled, my genitals and asshole exposed and vulnerable. I licked my dry lips and nodded. “Yes, doctor.” My cock was hard as a rock on my belly. It felt as if it had been that way the whole afternoon.
His gaze grew intense. “You are a beautiful young man. I’m going to enjoy this examination.” He pulled up a chair and drew a small table toward him as he sat down. On it was a pair of rubber gloves, a tube of K-Y jelly, and a collection of what I recognized as dildos and butt plugs.
The doctor snapped on the gloves and squeezed a glob of lubricant onto the fingertips of his right hand. I peered down, watching his hand as it approached my hole. I felt his fingers tickle the opening. “Breathe,” he said, and a moment later I grunted as his fingers pushed in. He rotated his hand to the left and right. An involuntary “ah” escaped my lips as he found my prostate and began to palpate it vigorously.
“Feels very healthy,” the doctor said. “Firm, no nodules. A bit enlarged, congested maybe. You’ve been aroused quite a bit this afternoon.”
“You’re telling me,” I chuckled, between gasps of pleasure.
“You’ve had receptive anal intercourse, correct?” he asked, his fingers never stopping.
“I’m going to test the muscle tone of your anal sphincter by inserting progressively larger instruments. If you really feel you can’t take it, tell me.”
“Okay,” I said, nervously eyeing some of the toys he had on his tray. I hoped he wouldn’t get to the biggest one.
It went on for what seemed like forever. Helpless in the restraints, I shouted and groaned with mingled pleasure and pain countless times as the doctor lubed up dildo after dildo and pushed them into my asshole, gently but without mercy. Sometimes after insertion he would move them back and forth, fucking me with them. Other times he would tell me to move my hips and fuck myself on the toy that was violating me. He would give my cock a few strokes each time, never enough to push me over the edge and make me cum, no matter how much I pleaded.
The instruments, as he kept calling them, got thicker and longer. My eyes bugged out at the sight of the last one, a huge black latex butt plug.
“Please, no. I can’t,” I pleaded.
“Oh, I think you can,” he purred. “Your sphincter is nice and relaxed now, after all these preliminary insertions.”
“No, please, doctor.” For the first time I was really scared. “That thing will tear me apart. Please don’t make me.”
The doctor considered this, and then looked at me. “Well, there is one alternative. I don’t usually offer this to my patients, but you’re so damn hot…”
I realized what he wanted, and nodded vigorously. “Yes. Take me. Fuck me, doctor.”
We locked eyes. He stood. “As you wish.” He began to unbutton his white coat. In a very short while he had stripped naked, revealing a surprisingly toned body. His long, cut penis jutted from his trimmed crotch, its darker head moist with precum.
Dr. Roberts reached for the instrument stand and picked up a foil-wrapped condom-I hadn’t noticed it there before. I watched his every move as he tore it open and unrolled the latex onto his himself. A swipe of K-Y and he was ready, smiling as he moved toward me and got between my spread legs. He took his cock in his hand and guided it to my hole, slick and tender from the abuse it had already taken.
“Entry shouldn’t be difficult,” he said. Sure enough, one thrust of his hips and he was inside. I grunted and tossed my head as he quickly buried himself up to the balls in me. He looked into my eyes again and something happened.
All afternoon I had let this man strip, embarrass and humiliate me. He had crossed all boundaries, violated me in multiple ways, with my consent. He had torn down my defenses. Now he was taking me in ultimate conquest.
In that moment I surrendered the last traces of my identity and self-respect. I became just a fuckhole for his all-conquering dick. I wanted nothing more to be ravaged and used by him until I was a dried-up husk, then tossed aside.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, as he grasped my calves and began to thrust.
Dr. Roberts proved to be as skilled a fucker as he had been at everything else he’d done to me that day. He fucked me deep, then shallow, fast, then slow, occasionally grinding his hips in a circle, constantly keeping me guessing as to what he’d do next. In the midst of it all he bent downward and gave me a long, wet kiss, feeding my hungry mouth all that it wanted of his lips and tongue. He then switched his attentions to my nipples. That got me thrashing and whimpering, straining futilely at the restraints binding my wrists. I wanted so badly to throw my arms around him, press him to me, take my tortured cock in my hand and bring myself off. I couldn’t do anything except lie there and take it.
In the fading light of late afternoon the doctor took what he hadn’t yet taken of my body. He took my soul.
I could have stayed in this sweet hell for the rest of time, but all too soon it had to end. I could tell the doctor was getting close to blowing his load as he began to step up the pace of his thrusts for the last time. His handsome face reddened as panting breaths emanated from between his clenched teeth.
“Ready to give me that sperm sample, boy?” he asked.
I had no words left. I nodded. He gave me one last encouraging grin and began to jack my cock, hard. As I passed the point of no return my eyes closed involuntarily. Whimpers from my throat turned into cries, then a prolonged roar of ecstasy as my body tried to jackknife off the table. My head flew up just in time for the first blast of cum to hit my chin. A dozen more shot out of my spasming cock, splashing across my chest and stomach. In the middle of it all I felt the doctor’s cock drilling my hole, his pubes slamming against my crotch, hoarse shouts of triumph issuing from his throat as he reached his own orgasm.
I opened my eyes and surveyed the sticky mess starting to congeal on my heaving chest. I looked up. Dr. Roberts’ back was arched, his face turned up to the ceiling, his eyes closed in ecstasy. Then he let himself go limp, body almost falling forward onto me as he drew air in great, ragged breaths.
He reached over my head and undid the wrist restraints. I grabbed his head and drew it to mine. We kissed tenderly, languidly, our mouths meeting over and over again as we slowly came back down to earth.
I released him and fell back on the table, utterly spent. I felt him start to pull out of me and reluctantly let him go.
“Stay there,” he said. “Just relax. I’m going to get you cleaned up.”
I closed my eyes. When I heard him coming back I opened them. He was still naked but had stripped off the condom, his partially erect cock swinging heavily. In his arms he had a washbasin and towels. He took the first and blotted off the congealing semen on my body.
“That was an impressive ejaculation,” he said, once more adopting his clinical tone. “Prolonged arousal increases the amount of seminal fluid, as you can see.”
“What time is it?” I asked.
“About four o’clock.”
I whistled. “Talk about prolonged. I think I’ve been hard for three hours.”
He chuckled. “You young people have so much stamina.” He bent and dipped a washcloth into the basin, squeezed it out, and began to wipe me down. The warm moisture was comforting, as was the faint smell of mint. Then with a third towel he rubbed me dry. When he was finished he stood above me and laid a hand on my stomach.
“How are you doing?”
I didn’t answer right away. Strange feelings were coursing through me. To my surprise and embarrassment I felt tears welling up. I tried to stifle my sobs but couldn’t.
I felt myself lifted and gathered into strong arms. The doctor held me against his bare chest as I cried my guts out on his shoulder. After what seemed like an eternity I began to get a hold of myself. He handed me one of the towels. I took it, blew my nose, and wiped my eyes. Then I sat on the table staring at nothing, unable to look him in the eye.
“Dirk,” he said. I looked at him. His gaze was warm and friendly, and I could tell this was really him, not some mythical doctor.
“Don’t be embarrassed. Many of my ‘patients’ have the same reaction.”
I was surprised. “Why?”
“Not sure I can explain it very well. You were a marvelous patient–you took everything I threw at you and accepted it wholeheartedly, not holding anything back, totally letting yourself go. Because of that your ultimate release was greater than most of my patients. Men aren’t used to laying themselves that bare in everyday life, and when they do in this examination room, stuff can come up from deep inside that they didn’t expect. Does that make sense?”
I nodded. “Kind of.”
He shrugged. “I’m sounding like some sort of medical professional. I’m not, of course. I like to think that by doing these fantasy exams with a small group of select men that I’m somehow helping them. I hope you got something out of today.”
I hugged him. “I did. I hope you could tell. Thanks.”
He smiled and kissed me lightly one more time. “Don’t mention it. And now I think it’s time for you-and me-to get dressed.”
At the door a while later I turned to him. He was every inch the cool professional again, even to his white coat. The words stuck in my throat but I had to ask.
“Will I be able to get another appointment sometime?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely! I’d suggest you wait a few months at least, though, until you really feel you need it. Drive safely now.”
I went to the hotel I’d booked for the night and checked in. As soon as I was in the room an overwhelming wave of fatigue washed over me. I collapsed on to the bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I haven’t yet scheduled another exam with Dr. Roberts, though I know I will. Like he said, I’m waiting until I really need it.
I never liked going to the doctor. Now I think all men need regular checkups.