- The Perfect Sex Robot 4
- The Perfect Sex Robot 5
- The Body Sculptor 1
- Doctor’s New Treatment Plan
- Cough Please
- School Doctor Sees Him Stiff
- Becoming a Drone
- Witness for the Prosecution
- Granddaughter’s Treatment 3
- The Specialist
- Anal Sex
- Enema Between Couples
- Enema Humor
- Enema Stories
- Erotic Enema
- Erotic Fantasy
- Female Patient and Female Doctor
- Medical Fantasy
- Medical Story
- Medical Testing
- Nurse Story
- Punishment Enema
- Rectal Thermometer
- April 2014
- March 2014
- February 2014
- January 2014
- September 2013
- August 2013
- July 2013
- December 2012
- November 2012
- October 2012
- September 2012
- August 2012
- July 2012
- June 2012
- May 2012
- April 2012
- October 2010
- September 2010
- August 2010
- July 2010
- June 2010
- April 2010
- February 2010
- December 2009
- November 2009
- October 2009
- September 2009
- August 2009
- July 2009
- June 2009
- May 2009
- April 2009
- March 2009
Sex robot M3 end of day two.
I waited outside the pie shop for an hour and my bruised feet ached and pulsed. I was relieved not to be getting honks and abuse from passing cars. But plenty of tourists coming in and out of the Powerhouse museum Sydney took my picture and laughed at me in my pink with purple trim fairy costume. Finally I got a text:
Go to an internet café and open yahoo msngr.
I walked around darling harbor looking for an internet café with no luck. I headed back up toward the city and found a convenience store with a few PCs. The Arabic looking man behind the counter just starred at me and did not answer when I asked to use the computers. After a minute or so I gave up and walked up one block to the next convenience store. The Indian looking woman was very friendly and helpful and I got online.
Genie connected straight away but did not say anything. After ten minutes of my sitting in the window, tutu in the air looking at the computer the shop assistant came over to ask if I was OK. I said I was just waiting for yahoo to connect and she smiled and patted my head.
Genie finally sends a message:
I waited… and after I don’t know how long Genie wrote:
Where are you M3?
I wrote just off Sussex street near China town.
A long pause before:
Go back to the library and collect your things. You have 30minuets, if you are late they will close and you won’t be able to get your clothes, wallet and keys.
I logged off and ran out of the store. I ran in the wrong direction for a minute before looking at the time on the phone. 4.55pm I guess it must close at 5.30pm. I took a breath and got my bearings. I up to Pitt street, left and all the way up to the mall and then up along Macquarie to the library.
I looked again at the time as I walked up the stairs 5.08pm. Out of breath I pushed the door but it did not open. Some people in the Library started looking at me. I gestured that I want to come in. They just kept looking. After I tried the other door a woman inside made a point at her watch motion and I made one back thinking that the closing time was 5.30pm. I looked on the door and it said –Saturdays, Sundays and Pub. Hol. 5pm.
I was now stuck in the city with no money, train ticket, wallet or house keys wearing a pink fairy costume and tights with a lace mask glued to my face hand clasped zip-tied around a fairy wand I could not release.
I got a text:
Are you there yet?
Yes — it’s closed.
Genie the med student’s reply:
Take a picture of yourself waiting outside the closed library door, make sure I can see your face and the opening times. Then I’ll tell you how to collect your things from the locker.
I took the picture and waited for a response.
The Library Guard moved me on and I walked down to martin place to sit on the bench.
I got a text:
There are three ways:
1.Wait outside the library like a garden fairy until it opens in the morning.
2.Walk home, break into your house and come back tomorrow.
3.Break the glass on the door and run in to get your things and try to run away before you get arrested.
Text part two
Personally I’m happy to let you decide which. This has been fun for me today and I think we got some good data. The Pictures and video of you running around the city in that fairy costume really help illustrate the written section of my report.
Text part three
In future you can think about what happened today. Maybe you will think about obeying my exact instructions, not going outside set test criteria or thinking for yourself too much. You are my sex robot. You do what I want.
I walked home, about four hours I think, my pink slippers worn through. In the fading light I got some honks and whistles, but as soon as it was dark I was anonymous. I climbed in through the back balcony and sliding doors — they are easier to open that I expected — I will need to get a better lock… I fell asleep in costume, over the covers.
End of Day two.
Sex robot M3 experiment day 3
I woke up before 6am Sunday morning. After a night of waking suddenly every few hours still full of adrenaline from the stress of day before then drifting off again. Already I had a message from Genie reminding me to write a journal of my experience in her tests.
I trolled through our emails before our meeting and my “volunteering” to be her robot slave and the emails texts and videos I had with me and started writing.
It was difficult to keep the events of Friday night separate from the shock of watching the videos on Saturday morning. The memory loss from the Codeine / Scopolamine combination was making the order of events very difficult to keep straight. I hoped I was imagining some parts and checked the brands on my balls — no, that part was real. I just wrote what I thought and hoped that honesty over exact detail was as important as she said.
I typed away for about three hours and sent off Friday to now, Sunday morning and made some breakfast. I got a knock at the door and it was a Currier — She asked for “Robot M3″ and I said I was. She gave me a stylus and a digital pad to sign. Before handing me a big box with a wink. I had answered the door in the fairy costume.
I put the box on the table and finished breakfast. I was curious about it’s contents, but sure it was not going to be good for me.
I caved to the curiosity and ripped open the box. A new WiFi router / modem 1000m range.
That was a pleasant surprise.
Under it a box of four wireless servo pan and tilt web cams and I felt like I knew where this was going. Under that were some power boards and extension cords and the “Human control harness” from Friday night complete with butt plug and cock ring electrodes and a “Postal Instructions” note:
You are performing well as my test subject. Install this new hardware as follows: Place one camera on the bookshelf to the left of your desk, one on top of your sink in the bathroom, one facing out your front window and one at facing out your glass back door. Do not put the harness on until instructed, the locks will only release via commands from my terminal. You will not be able to remove it without my authorization.
I finished installing the cameras and took a shower and dressed to go into Sydney to collect my wallet keys and clothes from the library locker. Just as I was about to go I heard Genies voice:
“Stop! M3, come to your computer. I want to test your new cameras… …other than the footage I just got of you in the shower… –[low giggle]- Go into the kitchen.”
I walked into the kitchen.
“Good, I can see you from camera 2″
I didn’t even see it turn on.
“You better be off to collect your things from the Library locker, they throw away unclaimed items you know. Just leave your front door unlocked, I will watch to make sure no one robs you. If your keys are gone you will need to get a new set from the land lord tomorrow.”
As instructed I left the place unlocked and went into Sydney to collect my things. The Locker was just how I left it and I got in and out without a fuss. When I came home I found my bedroom door open and a footlocker with a digital lock in the hall opposite a camera.
I heard Genie’s voice much louder now coming through my stereo:
“M3 Welcome home, I don’t think you will need so many clothing choices. All your clothes are in that locker. Left side lid for fancy dress right for normal. I threw away the things I didn’t like and plugged your PC into the stereo. Tonight you will be doing a job for me at the university. Instructions are on your phone. ”
The text popped up on my phone:
At 5.30pm you will go to my university, veterinary science lab 2.
You will wear the Lab coat in the locker and nothing under it except your shoes. You will clean all the glass wear with the following method:
Scrub them with the brush and cold soapy water until the gunk is gone. Use the smaller brush to scrub them with hot clean water. Rinse them with weak acid solution then water then weak base solution then water again. Finally rise each piece with Methanol. Stack the glass as per wall chart.
As I was reading I got another text:
Stand on one foot and take off your shirt.
I did. I heard the web cam pan around.
A few moments went by… Before I heard:
“Good M3 we have an interested party. I was tempted to keep you all to myself, especially considering what happened with other test subjects… Hmm, well, that shouldn’t concern you… You have the day free, but be on time at the university this evening.”
I arrived at the university and checked the map on the sign in the carpark. I was surprised to see the medical science lab open and no one around but I guess on a Sunday afternoon — who would be?
I started cleaning the glass wear; there were 8 or 10 sets of 5 pieces and some metal odds and ends. I was cleaning for about 15minutes when I heard someone come into the lab. The sink I was using was at the back where all the solvents and cleaning stuff is stored. I heard young women talking in low voices but could not catch what they were saying. I cleaned quieter and listened harder:
“…he’s doing all your prep work?”
…something else too soft to hear…
“I told you you’d enjoy it…”
…more things unheard…
“…no, no, ow – well do it then.”
I got a text message:
Don’t turn around.
There was giggling when my phone beeped and:
Lose the coat.
I put the phone down and undid the snaps on the lab coat. I could hear more muffled gigging. I dropped the coat to the floor and continued cleaning naked in sneakers. I could feel this going to end badly.
I heard a camera phone noise along with some loud whispers I couldn’t make out and I got another text:
Put your coat back on, go to the next room. Get up on the exam table on all fours and close your eyes.
I put on the coat and got up on the metal table. I heard someone walk in behind me. They pulled the coat over my head and fastened my wrists and ankles to the straps at the side of the examination table. I heard sticky tape and felt the coat being tapped over my head.
I heard Genie’s voice say:
“OK, come in now.”
I heard two new voices.
Woman one: “Hmm nice rump.”
Woman two: “Yes a proud hind quarter indeed.”
Woman one: “It’s hard to believe you actually got him to get into that harness, Can we see it now?”
“No, the harness isn’t with me, would you like to see a prostate erection instead?”
I heard no answer. I heard the rustle of plastic wrap and rubber gloves going on and I yelped as the cold gel was squirted in my ass.
Sex robot M3 day three – in the lab.
With my hands and feet strapped to the cold stainless steel medical exam table on all fours, wearing only sneakers and my lab coat pulled over my head I was feeling very exposed.
I felt a sharp prod and clenched my ass cheeks. The three young women shrieked with laughter.
“I think it’s frightened.” Not having seen two of them I struggle to distinguish their voices.
I heard a glass bottle open and felt a hand pat my bare ass.
“Whoa-now little fella… …It’s very small.” Said one of them.
“Once the electrode is in you’ll be surprised.”
I felt a wire around the base of my dick and some kind of clip bite in. I shouted in pain and immediately felt a very cold wet sensation on my head and face with a very strong chemical smell. I try to shake lose the clip but it just stung more as my bare ass wiggled from side to side.
“Don’t worry, the try choloro methane” The sound of Genies words are clear but fading, I just can’t make sense of them. Then a fluttering sensation and a flicker of light.
I don’t remember passing out, just waking up on my back. The cold steel of the table freezing my ass cheeks. I moved to try to get them off the cold and felt a long piece of metal deep in my ass. I was now on my back, arms and legs strapped tight to each corner of the big examination table. My Lab coat gone and my eyes sticky tapped shut.
I hear from Genie. I’m still woozy, now with a headache.
The electrical current shot through me and I let out a loud:
“Uhg!” noise and shook a little.
“…oops, I ‘ll just turn that down a little…” Genie commented.
I felt each click of the controls jolt my whole body until the last click of the controls and overpowering roller coaster falling sensation and numb pressure. It was like the feeling of my leg being asleep but over my whole body but worse.
“Ow!” and “Fucking hell.” From the two anonymous young women at the same time.
I felt the current shut off. I could feel my hot new hard on resting on my abdomen. One of the women poked it and they all giggled.
“Will it last… you know?” The two women’s voices so similar… …it may have only been one of them speaking.
Genie replied “I’m not sure how long it will stay erect after the current is off. I think it’s safest to use a condom with the current on for that.”
“So you’ve…” One of the two unknown woman made “you’ve” into a long question.
Genie again “Oh god no, I mean, I might, it is impressive don’t you think?”
“Ow-yes and so convenient …like a light switch.” Suddenly I felt hands on my dick. They were rolling on a condom. I was feeling deep embarrassment, but still stupidly thinking about sex.
Genie said, “Kelly, go to autopsy and get that pigs head will you.”
Some time passed and I felt the weight of the very cold moist leathery head on my lap.
Genie said “M3 would you like a blow job?”
I didn’t know what to say. I was too embarrassed to speak even if I did know what to say to that.
“M3, tell me you would like a blow job.”
I said, “Yes I would like a blow job.” In a very meek voice.
The three women sniggered. I felt the electrical current again and a second current thrusting my pelvis. Someone held the pigs mouth over my penis and I felt the teeth graze my dick as I thrusted. Back arching of the steel table the electrical current drove me deep into the pigs mouth. Thrusting uncontrollably about twice a second. Then more laughter and the current stopped. I fell to table and felt the condom slip off and the room went quiet.
I heard Genie say, “M3 Open your mouth and start licking.”
I felt the pigs bristly whiskers and lips press against mine and heard more giggles from the group. I hesitated and Genie whispered in my ear with a breathy,
“These girls want you M3. If you’re a good robot that is.”
I gave it a tongue kiss. The pig head was taken away and I stopped.
Genie barked, “M3! Did I say stop?”
I started licking the air and the women giggled again. I felt something prickly and the taste of soap. Genie roughly washed my mouth out with the bottle brush and left my mouth full of soap foam.
“Lets get some more pictures.”
Said Genie as I felt a marker pen on my chest and heard an anonymous excited giggle.
I felt more writing and heard two or three different types of camera beeps and then marker on my dick. Suddenly the current was on again and I was thrusting. There was laughing and camera sounds, I felt the women lean against me for more shots and I cheer and camera snaps as I climaxed.
I felt the straps loosen and Genie say from the doorway “Get dressed and finish that glass off before you leave.”
I pulled the tape off my eyes and jabbed myself with the ass electrode as I sat up. I finished off the glass wear.
As I left the lab I saw a two girls looking at me, was it the two from the lab? I lowered my head and went home.
To be continued…
Bobby Joe was a strange sight working behind the counter at Mike’s body building supplies. She was pale, her body soft and round her clothes dark and Gothic. She liked the Gothic look; sometimes she would even wear Steampunk to work. Mike didn’t care; he had spotted her hanging out listening to her cheap mp3 player in front of the local gym almost every day pretending to read. She was very beautiful; he hired her because she obviously liked fit people and had quite a bit of free time. Mike reasoned that the customers would feel better about themselves if the shop staff liked to interact with them, looked attractive but also weren’t any competition in terms of muscle and fitness.
Bobby Joe chatted with the men and women builders, she had no trouble talking them into posing in an empty spot in front of the store window as they considered areas they could work on. She liked that they were almost all attention-seeking exhibitionists. The big mirror beside the empty window display was like a magnet for them. She wanted to pat and rub them as they lifted their clothes and flexed, …but never did.
Store video captured in high resolution the shop visitors and they often admired themselves on the monitor and large mirrors. The pay was bad but Bobby Joe *really* liked to look at the customers.
That morning a new cream was being displayed on the counter. Mike must have come in during the night to set it up. The “free trial” was selected by computer from the customer list. Mike’s regular customers got a free product with every large purchase.
Mike’s mother was a nurse and he loved biology and chemistry from an early age. He studied anatomy along side art and sculpture at Uni. He loved to create but couldn’t really find a field he wanted to work in.
Mike bought the old shop in Burwood and started in body building supplies with inheritance money. He had always liked the human form; especially muscles and he studied them both aesthetically and scientifically.
The first two customers of the day were a husband and wife, they had come in together and the computer had flagged them to receive a free sample of Body sculpture cream. “One coat after morning shower one day before competition.” Was all that was written in the way of instructions, but that seemed clear enough.
The day went on and nothing particularly eventful happened. Just the standard ebb and flow of over tanned under fed gym junkies. “A Job with a view” often thought Bobby.
The next day the couple came back in, very excited wanting to get more of the cream. “They looked better somehow, younger, stronger, no not younger, but more energetic.” thought Bobby Joe. “…and with more expression their faces.”
Bobby Joe explained that the product was just a promotion at this stage and took a note to inform them when it came in full volume. Mikes custom build software was easy to use, with customer profiles and email alerts automatically generated. Mike is quite the inventor:
Mike had developed that cream over some time… …After culturing up some bacteria, he extracted the tetanospasmin, dissolved it in bee’s wax and formed a gel mixed with aloe and GHRH. The cream soaked into wet skin as it dried forming a smooth barrier that shrunk as it lost moisture. The skin was protected and tightened at the same time. As the tetanospasmin slowly made it’s was through the thin layers of fat and into the blood it interrupted the neuromuscular release mechanism. The effect was two fold: The skin became tighter and smoother and the muscles, now unable to completely relax became much firmer and engorged with blood. The GHRG and the testosterone produced from the prolonged flexing promoted very rapid muscle growth. The testosterone also raised libido.
Mike had invented the ultimate body shaping cream, but he had no intentions of marketing his creation.
Bobby Joe liked muscles too. She didn’t mind exorcize, she walked to work everyday, she swam at the local pool several times a week. But like most things she did in her free time, they were mainly excuses to watch others. She rarely looked anyone in the eyes. Most mistook that for the shyness of a Gothgirl, but they were wrong. She was quite brazen in her voyeurism.
She really liked the body building shop, so many fit boys and girls all just a little too eager to show off “problem areas” abs, ass, thighs, they seem to have very little modesty.
At her request, Mike had imported some Tan-thru swimwear and competition posing costumes. She chose them all and it had increased the shop patronage by almost double. She recommended Mike set up an online sales section but he just rejected it without discussion. She was confused but didn’t mind making people come in, in-person.
In a lull, Bobby Joe was using the change room to check out her form. She often did this; she was happy with her look but didn’t have any drive to maintain the super lean bodies of her customers. Looking at herself was fun.
Bobby noticed through the big shop window the couple that had asked about the cream. They were in a phone booth together across the street.
The Woman was holding the phone to the side of her head — no where near her ear or mouth. The man, Bobby guessed husband, but hadn’t bothered to recheck the customer file was pressed against her from behind.
They seemed to be fighting for the phone. Bobby watched as the muscular man pressed his lady into the large grey payphone. There arms joined at the wrists as he wrestled both her arms behind her back. As they shifted inside the little glass box Bobby saw a glimpse of thigh from the very fit lady.
Her long skirt was lifted at the back… “OMG”, “They aren’t calling anyone, …maybe Jesus.” Realized Bobby.
They were having rough passionate sex, right across the street. The partially opaque doors on one side and the aluminum wall on the other shielded view to everyone walking up and down the path. But the totally clear glass walls gave full view to Bobby Joe across the street, and anyone driving who’d happen to look sideways.
Some people walked by and the muscular man threw his partner against the opposite wall and scrambled for the phone receiver. Her palms and breasts pressed into the glass. Bobby desperately wanted to get a picture. But was transfixed, unable to look away from these godlike bodies so publicly mashing their lust into each other.
In a fluid motion Bobby lifted her bag onto the counter with her foot and retrieved her Android phone. The delay in opening apps was usually a pain, but this was agony. The Woman in the phone booth was starting to tire and was now rhythmically pressing her nose, lips, palms, and whole chest into the glass wall of the booth facing Bobby.
Bobby Joe’s camera app opened and she zoomed in tight. The Man and woman in the booth had dropped all pretense of a telephone conversation and were moaning so load Bobby could actually here it: 30 meters away, through the booth, the glass front of the shop and across busy Burwood road. Just a few seconds more of this as the whole booth was flexing in time with these two, insane with passion.
Then in an instant, the glass went silver. And the two were gone from view. A half a second later and Bobby heard the ‘POP’ of the safety glass and the two inhabitants scream together in a primal way that had Bobby instantly wet. The scream was followed by the two moaning and then manic laughter.
A small crowd had gathered behind the booth and gave them a big clap as they scurried off. Bobby Joe was very aroused. She looked over at the Muscle and fitness magazines and thought about a quick relief session in the back stockroom. She had work to do… and though she would save this memory for later.
She went back to the desk terminal and ran Mike’s special customer profile sweep. It was a crawler, looking trough facebook, myspace, Alt, Bondage, collarme, and other “straight” social networks for Australian profiles that matched the email addresses, nicks, IMs and other details the customers gave.
Time permitting she had been instructed to look through the unmatched customer records and compare them with a second DOB only result list. All the customers had social sites, but almost all had kinky profiles as well. The software matched and showed their picture, their phone number was used as a customer reference and the software kept track of the things they bought, even the times and days they came in.
Bobby Joe had thought it was a little weird but Mike said it was public information and no laws were being broken. A thought that gave her comfort as she trolled through their dirty little secrets. And now she was looking at the profiles of the phonebooth couple.
I walked into the waiting room of the new doctor’s office and was pleased to find it wasn’t crowded. With a sigh of relief I walked to check in at the nurse’s station. I handed over my license and tried not to frown at the picture. Do they purposely try to catch you squinting and half smiling? I am 5’6″ with long brown hair and brown eyes, average build with large breasts and incredible long legs which are probably my best feature. The gritty license picture does me no justice.
I also handed over my new insurance card. That’s why I was there. The cheaper insurance plan for my employer means I had to switch doctors from the nice, woman friendly gynecological practice to this place where the doctor seems to go by only Dr. J. Very shady.
The waiting room had an unclean feel. The chairs looked dirty and the magazines were showing Christmas holiday gift giving advice despite the fact that it was April. I was happy to take my seat and get away from the nurses. I had been putting this check-up off for more than a year because I have a horrible problem with the doctor’s office.
The usual check up with my family practitioner is no problem but unfortunately gynecological exams were my downfall. I wasn’t afraid of them – I was turned on to the point of humiliation. Already in this dingy waiting room I started feeling the wetness seeping into my panties. I had tried so hard to dress conservative in jeans and a modest shirt and even my underwear were playfully innocent with a pink polka-dot bra and bikini cut red panties. Nothing about the outfit or my appearance screamed “sexual deviant.”
And yet I was itching to stroke my pussy through my jeans. I picked up a magazine, opened to an article (“Perfect Tips for Staying Thin This Thanksgiving Season!”) and used it as a shield as I examined the other patients in the waiting room: an obviously pregnant woman messing with her phone, a septuagenarian reading some dime-store romance novel, a sexy young woman, lips slightly parted as though she was struggling to keep her breathing steady…
Oh wait, one wall was a mirror. I flipped a few pages in the magazine to hide the flush creeping into my face. I squirmed uncomfortable in the chair knowing my pussy was oozing onto my red panties. I knew I should have masturbated before I got there but I had been nervous the doctor could somehow tell my sin from the examination. Now I was in dire straights. I thought desperately about rubbing one out quietly in the waiting room…
I repositioned the magazine and flipped the page (“Holiday Fashions for Any Figure”). My jeans were tight but I could still rub my clit through the fabric. It was already getting enlarged from just being in the room and waiting for an exam. I teased the outline of it through the fabric and felt my body tense. Nipples began getting hard and showing through my bra and thin shirt. Soon the teasing touch was too little, and I ached for further relief. I decided to risk unbuttoning my jeans…surely they wouldn’t call me anytime soo..
“ANGEL?” called a gruff voice from the back of the waiting room. I dropped the magazine guiltily, picked up my purse, and walked to the door ignoring the hot wetness between my legs.
The nurse had a real attitude problem and she seemed really unhappy at her job. I smiled at her.
She took me to a back area where they weighed me, measured my height, and then showed me to a door. I was still struggling to keep my arousal under control. This was all the foreplay leading up to the doctor’s exam and I was on edge from the anticipation. I didn’t realize she was holding a cup out to me.
“Hello? Urine sample? This way…”
Oh duh, of course. Perfect! The privacy of a bathroom would give me time to get rid of my overwhelming need to get off surely. I thanked Nurse Bitchy and took the cup into the bathroom. The fixtures were all very old but the room was clean at least. I sat down on the toilet and prepared to fill my sample cup according to directions. (Really, how many directions do there need to be? Step 1. Pee in Cup) Once the sample was done and I had used the sanitary wipes to clean up I decided to give myself a quick feel.
Leaning back against the back of the toilet with my jeans and red panties around my ankles I began to rub my excited clit while I stroked my thighs and body with my other hand. Already breathing so hard I knew I had to focus if I wanted to get done before suspicions arose. I slid the other hand down and teased my pussy lips open, spreading my legs wider where I sat on the toilet. I slid one finger in and imagined the way the doctor would do this same procedure momentarily…I could feel my body tensing as I rubbed my pussy with one hand and fingered it with the other.
BANG-BANG-BANG. “Ma’am? Do you need assistance?”
I moaned as I quickly sat up and began pulling my clothes on. “justaminute.” I remembered to wash my hands and get my sample before leaving the bathroom. A quick glance in the mirror told me how red my face was. My heart was beating so fast I couldn’t hear a worse Nurse Bitchy was saying but I followed her anyways.
The exam room. My pussy gave a delicious jump when I saw the stirrups. All my attempts to stop my intense arousal had only made it worse. Breathing heavy I was struggling just to keep it together.
“Please get undressed. The doctor will be in shortly.”
I looked around and did not see any gowns. I called out after her, “Sorry, where are the gowns?”
The door was already shut but I heard the muffled reply of “Budget Cuts.”
Seriously?! This wasn’t going well at all. I put down my purse and started to undress while looking around the room. Other than the bed with its crinkle paper covering, one old chair and a doctor’s stool on wheels there was no other furniture. Shower curtain rings hung from a pole but the privacy curtain was missing. I took my shirt off and folded it neatly on the chair. I unbuttoned my jeans and stepped out of them adding them to the pile. I unclipped my bra and felt my nipples harden to the cold. My hands flew to them instinctively.
And while I stood there in the fluorescent lit exam room rolling my nipples between my fingers I debated with myself. Do I take my panties off? They were cute and red with strings for sides. If I left them on the doctor would see how wet they were. A quick feel confirmed what I already knew: they were soaked and clearly outlining my pussy lips. If I took my panties off I risked looking foolish if it was understood I should retain some amount of privacy. What if I was supposed to take them off?
I was still standing and debating when a knock was at the door and then it immediately opened and admitted the doctor.
It was actually Dr. Jackson according to his name tag and he was so dreamy. He walked in accompanied by a middle aged nurse. Dr. Jackson was tall with big hands and a white doctor’s coat on. His hair was brown and cropped short. He seemed to be in good shape for being in his 40s and clean shaven. The nurse (nametag: MISTY) looked friendly and matronly. They looked at me in unison and surprise.
“You’ll need to take your underwear off, Miss Angel,” said Dr. J. That answered that.
I blushed, apologized, and bent over at the waist as I slowly pulled my wet panties down my legs and placed them on top of my folded pile of clothes. When I turned back around, completely naked, the doctor and nurse were both smiling politely.
I love being watched. I took my time climbing onto the exam table. I felt the thin table covering immediately cling to the moisture originating from my cunt.
“If you’ll lean back we will start with the breast exam,” said Dr. J. I leaned on the table which was reclined but was not flat back. When I scooted back to get comfortable my legs fell slightly open. I decided not to fix it since there was really no reason to be shy. These people were professionals.
The nurse rolled in a metal table and was arranging some tools on top. She wheeled the table beside the exam table while the doctor sat on the rolling stool and came beside where I was laying. A push of the button had him lowering me until he could comfortably look down on my 36C breasts. A few stolen glances at his face told me his eyes were hazel. Dreamy.
I cleared my mind as the doctor reached down and started groping my breasts with a firm, knowledgeable touch. My nipples were so hard. His gloved hand brushed my right nipple as he moved to the left breast, reaching across my body. I gasped.
“Are you allergic to latex?”
“Mmmno…” I answered. He was still massaging my breast. He moved back to the other. Squeezing. Gripping. Gently pulling on my left nipple, and then my right. I moaned.
“Oh dear,” said the nurse. She was frowning at my behavior. I felt so very dirty.
“Yes, it seems we have a special case. Miss Angel, are you aroused by your exam?”
Lie? Truth? Lie? “Uhhh…”
And then his gloved hand slid to my slightly parted thighs and one skilled finger parted my pussy lips and barely entered my slit.
“You are dripping wet. Are you ovulating or do you find this examination arousing?”
It was impossible not to rock my hips slightly on that gloved finger. He responded by moving his finger to gently massage my swollen clit as I pushed my hips towards his touch.
“She is definitely aroused, Dr. J.”
“I agree Misty. We will try to make this appointment as comfortable for you as possible, Miss Angel.”
“Thanks,” I managed, between moans. Nurse Misty was already coming to the table and pulling out the stirrups while Dr. J pushed a button and now the table was leaning back further until I was flat on my back. The doctor patted the stirrups and I needed no further encouragement. Once my feet were in the proper position Dr. Jay unwound some leather straps and secured them to my ankles.
“Uh..doctor,” I started to ask, although the idea of being strapped in was already making my pussy leak out onto the table.
“It is for your protection, Miss Angel. Sometimes people that become aroused at these exams require additional attention and we would hate for you to strain yourself during the treatment.”
I had no idea what was going on but I allowed the doctor to finish securing the straps tightly around my ankles and then he began to push my legs further apart. Each time the stirrups extended slightly further there was a click until finally my thighs were as far apart as I could handle. I whimpered and the doctor immediately stopped pushing. “No need to worry Miss Angel. Just making sure we have full access to your genital region.”
My hands were still free and I had no idea what to do with them. They seemed to have a mind of their own, moving to stroke the sides of my breasts while I looked down at my legs spread obscenely wide. The doctor picked up a tool from the assortment on the table and with a push of a button a monitor on the ceiling came on. The doctor was fiddling with a remote and the scene on the monitor adjusted and came into focus. There was a camera positioned right at my spread pussy.
“I hope you do not mind. Part of the way we help cover costs is by providing training videos we record during our examinations. Your insurance plan requires this,” said Dr. J.
Well, that didn’t seem good at all but I was captivated.
I had never seen myself spread this wide before. My hands immediately flew to my cunt to touch it, feeling the silky wetness there. Thanks to laser hair removal the only hairs that grow are downy and light despite me having dark hair. The vision on the monitor captivated my attention.
I got so horny looking at my spread pussy that I didn’t hear Dr. J. “You MUST move your hands,” he reiterated.
“Oh, uhh, sorry,” I said, as I pulled my hands reluctantly away from my enlarged clit. The nurse was watching with a worried look on her face. God I love being watched.
The doctor moved the stool between my legs and licked a gloved finger. “I will start with the external exam,” he said and I felt my pussy tense. He started to trace along the spread lips of my cunt, using two fingers to feel along every crevice and fold. The stirrups and straps made it impossible for me to move, impossible to even thrust my hips towards his hand. He then pulled the skin off of my clit and began to gently massage it between two fingers. I was a groaning mess seeing a close up on the monitor of my clit being rubbed.
“Yes doctor, oh god..” I was moaning. Nurse Misty frowned. The doctor withdrew his hand and I realized my legs were shaking in the stirrups. I gave a frustrated moan, struggling against the restraints to push my hips towards the doctor. My hand automatically flew to my pussy and I started to play with my clit in front of him.
Dr. J. frowned at Nurse Misty. “Would you mind restraining her hands as well, Nurse?”
I started to protest, but Nurse Misty was already pulling one hand over my head and buckling a similar leather restraint around my left wrist. She then repeated the action with my other hand until they were restrained over my head while I lay on the exam table still buckled into the stirrups with my legs as wide as possible.
“Now Miss Angel, we are going to start the internal examination,” said the Doctor. My eyes were back on the overhead monitor and I watched as the doctor slid a gloved hand down to my slit and began to trace the opening of my pussy with the tip of his finger. The more he prodded the wider it seemed to gape on the monitor. “I can tell you are very tight as well as being very aroused by this procedure. I am going to make sure you are properly lubricated.”
It was the only warming I got before he scooted the stool closer and leaned down to connect his warm tongue to my throbbing clit. I could feel his latex finger circling my entrance while his tongue was teasing me so slowly that I couldn’t help but gasp and moan. I strained against the bindings wanting to grab his head and grind my pussy onto his face.
“Try to relax, Miss Angel,” said Nurse Misty, but I was too tensed from the sensation of the doctor’s tongue while watching him eat me out on the monitor. His tongue moved to trace along my outer lips before it dived deep into my already dripping hole. A gloved thumb moved to gently manipulate my clit while he prodded deeper into my cunt with his tongue.
I closed my eyes and felt my body tense, knowing an orgasm was imminent. I gasped and moaned. The doctor noticed the change and took that time to thrust two fingers deep into my pussy. I felt my walls contract around his fingers immediately as my climax hit in intoxicating waves, releasing the tension I’d felt since I had first made the appointment.
As my moans subsided, the doctor continued to push on my stomach with one hand while he probed deep into my vagina with the other. His head was cocked to the side and he seemed engrossed in what he was doing. There was a copious amount of my pussy juices smeared on his chin and cheeks.
I lay panting, my entire body flushed and uncomfortable from being restrained in such an awkward position. I watched the monitor as the doctor moved away. My pussy was glistening wet and flushed from the excitement. I was so caught up in staring at myself that I failed to notice Nurse Misty approaching with another instrument.
The doctor was holding the speculum as he wheeled himself back between my legs. He placed the closed device at my entrance and began to slowly slide the instrument into my cunt. I was so wet from having just cum that there was no resistance and the instrument was extremely thin in the closed position. I did wince as it seemed to hit the back of my womb. The doctor noticed the resistance and stopped pushing the metal rod into my pussy.
I turned my attention back to the monitor and watched as the doctor began to turn the screws which caused the instrument to open. After a few seconds, the doctor started turning slower and slower and the pressure in my pussy became unbearable. I gave a frightened whimper.
“I’m sorry Miss Angel, it’s just another few minutes. It’s important that we get a good view for the video.”
I continued to gasp and moan as the pressure continued; it looked like my pussy could not possibly stretch any wider. I was always very tight and had never seen myself spread to such an extreme. Tears sprung into my eyes. The doctor seemed to sense my distress and reached a finger to begin rubbing my clit while my pussy was spread wide.
He reached for an instrument and shined a tiny flashlight into the deepest recesses of my cunt. I was moaning now, not just because he had resumed his attentions on my clit, but also because the flashlight gave an obscene view on the monitor of my insides.
The doctor pushed the stool away from between my legs leaving an unobstructed view of the speculum buried in my pussy and open to an extreme position. I was feeling such an ache, I began to whimper and moan. “Please take it out,” I begged.
“I’m sorry Miss Angel, this is for studious purposes. We are going to need to observe the reaction to your inner walls when you experience a violent gagging sensation.”
“Nurse Misty, could you please see that our patient is as comfortable as possible during this procedure?”
And suddenly things were happening so fast I couldn’t keep up. One second Nurse Misty was grabbing a new tool that began to buzz suspiciously and moving it toward my exposed twat. She put the vibrator against the speculum and my entire pussy was instantly electrified from the feeling of vibrations deep within my body. Her finger was gently teasing my clit out of its hood while she held the vibrator against the metal rod.
So lost in moaning and experiencing this new feeling I didn’t notice Dr. J had moved to beside my head on the exam table and was stroking his big cock. I was sad to have missed the moment when it sprung, fully hard and over 7 inches, from his black slacks. I could see it was already glistening with precum that he was rubbing into his shaft and getting closer and closer to my head.
I struggled against my bindings uselessly as the doctor approached but was conflicted on whether I wanted to get away or swallow him whole in one movement.
“Doctor, I..” I started, but as soon as my lips parted the salty head of his cock was forced between my lips.
“Shhh, Miss Angel. It’s important that you relax,” he said as he pushed his dick further into my waiting mouth.
I took my time, exploring his cock with my tongue, tasting his precum and attempting to bob my head on his member but finding it hard being so restrained. The vibrating on my pussy combined with his dick in my mouth was building me up for another orgasm quickly. He didn’t mind my lack of movement, putting a firm hand behind my head and pushing himself deeper into my mouth until he was hitting the back of my throat. I tried to relax, gasped for air when he retreated from my throat and then moaned as he pushed forward again. Then I gagged.
The spasm through my restrained body was violent and I felt my cunt contract around the invading speculum and almost manage to dislodge it.
“Impressive,” moaned Dr. J, before thrusting back into my throat. The onslaught was brutal and I was lost in the feeling of having my face fucked by the doctor while simultaneously having my clit rubbed and entire genital area vibrating. It was too much. I was gagging again, this one more violent than the last.
Each time he forced his dick into my throat hard enough to make me gag my body shook and the walls of my pussy threatened to push the metal torture device out onto the table. The questionable test continued for several minutes as I slurped noisily on Dr. J’s cock. Without warning, he grunted loudly and forced his dick to the back of my throat where I felt his length throbbing and shooting thick strands down my throat.
There was no choice but to swallow and I gagged and struggled to handle the large load. The sensation of his cum filling my mouth and gagging me pushed me over the edge. I cried out though it was muffled by his dick in my mouth and I continued to swallow and suck his cock until the doctor was spent.
I enjoyed myself thoroughly as I got my fill of the doctor’s cum. After he withdrew, leaving me gasping for breath I felt the nurse quickly spin the screws and the pressure in my pussy immediately lessened. The doctor took a few steps away from me and though his back was turned I could tell he was adjusting himself.
Nurse Misty gave a polite smile as she moved to undo the bindings on my hands and then those around my ankles. “All done now, Miss Angel!”
I was struggling to catch my breath as I carefully dressed myself and tried to fix my hair. A few strands were soaked with spit from sucking the doctor off with my head sideways while lying down. I smoothed those strands and hoped no one would notice or at least not guess what had happened.
I was in a satisfied haze as the doctor handed me a signed form and smiled a dashing smile. He didn’t seem phased in the slightest by the testing that had occurred. As I exited the room, he was pressing buttons on the remote control and the monitor I had forgotten went black. I hoped that video really was for learning purposes. Or maybe I hoped it was for personal purposes.
With my purse in one hand and form in the other I returned to the nurse’s station. They took the form and began typing something on the computer. I was trying hard to look casual.
“Dr. J says you will need a check-up for your condition. He recommends you come back next month?”
“Next month?” I asked, confused. Wasn’t this a yearly physical? And then I realized what it would mean, coming back here next month.
“Yes that will be fine,” I said, too eagerly. I could get used to this type of treatment.
Jay sat in the waiting room, pretending to read a magazine but actually peeking over the top of it at a pretty girl sitting across from him. How interested can anybody really be in how many miles to the gallon you get out of the latest Toyota anyway? Apart from the girl no-one else was here. He would be the last patient of the day for his doctor.
He watched the girl walk down the hall when she was called. She was pretty, but far too skinny for his liking. He was so horny. His hernia, or at least that is what he thought it was, certainly hadn’t affected his libido. He had a lump in his groin, to the right of his cock. It didn’t hurt and it disappeared when he lay down. He wasn’t worried; he just wanted to know what to do about it.
“Jay Gifford!” the receptionist called out. She could get that miserable look off her face thought Jay as he walked past her and down the hall.
“I am going to close up after you go,” she said. “Just close the door as you leave, the doctor will lock it.”
He knocked on the door and was surprised to hear a female voice call for him to come in, a rather sexy female voice.
“Hi” she smiled. “I am Karen Brown, Dr. Sternberg’s locum”. She seemed to be about forty with beautiful alabaster skin. Her eyes were piercing and uncompromising but her smile was self-deprecating and hinted at an inner warmth. She was a buxom woman with mid-length curly brown hair cut in a professional style. Her white sateen dress shirt was slightly open revealing a full, silky-white cleavage.
“Take a seat” she waved a hand towards a chair, while running her eyes up and down Jay’s large, masculine frame. He was used to being looked at. He knew that he had a strong physical presence, but something about the hunger in her eyes struck him and he felt his cock twitch.
“What seems to be the problem?” she said. Her eyes held level with his. He suddenly felt vulnerable, like a deer caught in the gaze of a hungry Mountain Lion. His cock twitched again and began to harden; his heart rate quickened. He stole a glance at her soft hands, her nails were manicured but not too long. They were painted a subdued natural colour. He imagined her fingers slipping underneath his cock, weighing it in her hands and then gently stroking it. Fuck. Stop. He thought. He was pretty sure he would have to take his clothes off and he didn’t want to have a hard on.
“I think I have a hernia,” he said. He thought he saw a smile flicker in the corner of her mouth. “I have a lump in my groin.”
“Is it painful?” she asked, getting up from her chair and walking around the desk
“No,” he said, watching her ass as she walked towards the bed. Her ass was full. He liked that. He tried not to imagine a pair of lacy, purple boy shorts disappearing up between her smooth, white ass cheeks.
“Take off your pants and lie down here please,” she said, patting the bed.
He was trying to think of something disgusting to head off his hard on, but there was something about the command in her slightly husky voice that was doing things to him. What the hell was going on? Why was this woman turning him on so much. He lay on the bed. His cock was half hard, making a slight tent in his briefs. He saw her glance at it; then her eyes traveled slowly up his body until they reached his. She smiled at him, looking down her nose. It was a controlled smile, but her eyes were full of fire and hunger. He decided to go with the hard on.
She ran her soft hand from his hip bone along the hem of his briefs towards his groin.
“Is it here?” she said, turning and staring straight into his eyes.
“Yes,” he managed to croak. His throat was dry
“Stand up please,” she said, stepping back slightly but not giving him enough space to stand up without feeling like they were invading each others’ personal space. She moved behind him, which he wasn’t expecting. He felt her look at his ass. Heat rose from his asshole and spread across his buttocks and up his back. He felt terribly exposed. Her hand was suddenly on his hip. He flinched.
“Sorry,” she said. Her tone said she didn’t mean it.
“No,” was all he could manage. He swallowed. The hand slid towards his balls; in the same motion as before. This time it found the lump. She felt around it for a moment and then her hand continued. He gasped and his back tensed as her soft, warm hand cupped his scrotum.
“Cough for me please,” her voice came from very close to his ear. He could smell lavender. His cock was as hard as it could get now. He managed a pathetic sounding cough. He felt himself drawn backwards, as though he were going to faint. He leant backwards and his broad back made contact with her breasts. She didn’t move. leaning into her. He could feel her breath in his ear.
“May I?” she said, somehow it didn’t seem like a request.
“Jahwohl,” he mumbled, for some reason that was beyond his comprehension using his grandmother’s German.
Her hand moved slowly to his now raging cock. She slide her nails gently along the bottom of his shaft. He let his head fall back onto her shoulder.
“That’s it,” she breathed into his ear. “Let go”.
She began to slowly stroke his cock, while her lips found his ear. He groaned and felt all the tension melt away from his body. She pushed her groin into his ass, thrusting gently. Her other hand found his mouth and two fingers entered it. He greedily sucked them. She ran her hand down from his mouth until she found a nipple. She pinched and twisted it slighty. His hand went back and found her soft, round ass. He pulled her into him with each of her gentle thrusts. He was in ecstasy
She moved him around so that he was facing the bed and gently pushed his strong, muscular shoulders until he put his hands on the edge of the bed. She slid his briefs all the way down and he stepped out of them. She ran her tongue slowly up the back of his thighs until she got to his ass. He shivered and arched his back. She gently bit his firm butt cheek.
She let go of his cock and used both her hands to pull his ass cheeks apart. He got a shock as her tongue went directly to his asshole. The hot breath and warm tongue were almost too much for him to handle.
“hold yourself open for me baby,” she said huskily. He let go of the edge of the bed and had to lean further over to rest his chest on it. He pulled his ass cheeks apart, exposing his now wet hole. It felt cold in the conditioned air.
Her hand went back to his cock and her tongue to his asshole. She licked and sucked hungrily as she started to jerk his cock off. His world was spinning and he could do nothing but moan. He felt a finger circle his hole, she let the nail of her middle finger drag across it. She began to push her finger into him. His back stiffened and his cock throbbed in her hand. Her finger slid slowly into his wet hole. She tightened her other hand around his cock as she began to pull her finger in and out of his ass. He moved his his hips in slow circles and arched his back to give her full access. One finger became two and the pace quickened. She let go of his cock and he felt a slap sting his ass, and then another. He squirmed and began to move backwards and forwards with her fingers.
“Fuck me please,” he whispered into the starched white sheet.
He felt her fumble with something and pause for a second. She was dropping her pants. She resumed her finger fucking and added another finger. His ass stretched, almost painfully. He felt her other hand under his nose and smelled her juices. She began to smear his face with her pussy juices while pumping him harder and harder.
“Suck them,” she commanded. He took her fingers into his mouth and sucked on them like his life depended on it. She pushed her hips into him and fucked him, grinding her clit into the back of her hand. Each thrust pushed her hand deeper into his asshole. He started to let out a sound that was half cry, half moan. Her hand left his mouth and grabbed a handful of his thick, dark brown hair. She pulled his head back and her pushes became slams. She slammed him so hard that his feet nearly left the floor. Slam, slam, slam.
“Yes, fuck me, please, harder, fuck me, take me. I need you to fuck my ass!” his voice was thick and strained. She slammed into him harder and harder. She held against him for a split second with each thrust.
Suddenly she stopped thrusting and pushed up hard against his asshole, which was stretched with the force, grinding into him and letting out a muffled moan. She dug her nails into his ass cheek. Her moan became a low primal growl as she came hard. He nearly blacked out. He began to pump spurt after spurt of cum into the air below the bed. She held herself against his stretched ass in silence for a few seconds…and then collapsed onto his back. Her fingers slid slowly from his ass.
the end -
Johnny Marcello slumped on the bench outside the school surgery. As the minutes ticked by his fear mounted. He kept thinking of the conversation with another 18 year old, Mike Campbell. Mike played with him on the football team . Mike was a good athlete, a handsome fella, with a good build . Normally confident. But yesterday when he had returned to the classroom after seeing the school’s visiting doctor he had seemed traumatized.
“She said it’s a survey into adolescent health,” mumbled a distrait Campbell, “But it was totally, you know, humiliating.”
“Yes, but does she make you…you know…strip off?” asked Johnny, full of anxiety.
Campbell could barely get the words out. “It’s worse than that .” He refused to say anything else. He seemed too hurt.
And now it was Johnny’s turn. All he could think about waiting in the corridor was that it was a female doctor. A woman . He had never faced this before. There was a sinister, creepy feeling about the prospect of a female doctor making him take his clothes off.
Three senior girls sauntered past.
“…to the doctor!”
“Oh my God!”
“I hope it’s our turn!”
“Hope it’s as good as Campbell’s!”
And they doubled up, roaring with cruel girls’ laughter.
Before he could reflect on this deepening mystery the frosted door opened and Doctor Speight appeared. “Johnny Marcello? Thanks for being punctual. Come right in, please.”
Talk about business-like. Everything about her suggested she was to be obeyed.
Doctor Speight was in her 50s, large bosomed, somewhat stern with her hair in a bun and glasses hanging around her neck. She wore a crisp white coat. Johnny’s stomach was in turmoil and his eyes darted with terror. He nervously took in the small, compact surgery with its desk covered in files . There was an examination table and, in one corner, a screen .
“We’ve got to get you back to your class as soon as we can, so let’s get into it,” said the doctor. “No time to waste. ”
She explained that her visit to the school was part of a health survey, as well as being for personal medical check-ups for the boys. Or, at least, she added, ” the most athletic and mature ones .”Johnny was a little puzzled by that. Why not all the boys? And what about the girls? Wasn’t their health important?
She added that the survey element meant it was going to be a particularly thorough examination.
Johnny’s stomach turned over. His guts felt they were turning to water. This is what he – in fact, every male his age – dreaded : being ” examined ” by a female doctor or nurse without clothes – and, let’s be frank, getting an erection. And Johnny had, he thought, a particular reason to fear a full body examination. He was stiff most of the time and would certainly never be able to keep it down and soft in front of a lady doctor. But worse, his cock was very unusual, or at least that’s what he thought.
It was a six incher, somewhat thick, and with a extra-large plumpish head. Like a particularly spongy mushroom. So far no problem. But when erect – which seemed to be its natural state – it curved inward decisively, to point back at its owner. It looked just like a big ripe banana. When it sprang up in the showers after football or swimming it got the other boys’ attention and rapidly became the subject of conversation. “Banana prick” was the inevitable jest from naked boys who would rather have a mate’s penis discussed than their own. That was par for the course but what would a fucking female doctor make of this…this little deformity? It was something he had always worried about.
Then came the instruction he had dreaded for about the last five years.
“Go behind the screen and strip off .”
He winced, as if struck in the face.
He walked in a stupor, almost hypnotized, and found himself behind the screen slowly loosening his tie. As he moved to shirt buttons he felt a prickle of pure terror. And it didn’t fade as the trousers joined his shirt on the chair. Looking down at his BVDs he quietly resolved to test his luck.
Leaving them on – the last cover of his modesty – he hesitated. Then he took three faltering steps, emerging from the screen to present himself .
Lifting her head from the paperwork on her desk Dr Speight gave him one look and said, ” Oh, I think we can take those off as well…”
Her tone suggests she is used to dealing with the wiles of schoolboys with false notions of modesty. And using authority to make them take off all their clothes. No matter how reluctant the young men might be to stand bare as a board in front of a matronly woman medico.
“…This is a serious examination and I haven’t got X-ray eyes.”
Johnny Marcello again looks like he’s been slapped : his face freezes in exquisite pain. In shock, he retreats behind the screen. He’s flushed with panic. A spooky feeling of agitation fills him. She’s ordered him to appear completely naked. Without so much as a fig leaf…starkers…in front of her, a woman, a female, a lady doctor.
Moving as if in a trance Johnny slips thumbs into his waistbands. He hesitates like a frightened animal. But what can he do? So slowly, slowly, slowly he slides his underpants down his legs. He steps out of them and hangs them on the chair.
Johnny Marcello is in his birthday suit. As nude as Michelangelo’s David. And more frightened than if he were facing Goliath. He can feel the air around his cock and balls. He feels very, very naked. He keeps thinking of the old expression, ” as naked as the day he was born . ” He thinks of his Italian- descended, traditional Catholic mother seeing him like this – and quickly banishes the dirty thought.
He takes a deep breath.
Like a schoolboy to a spanking he moves sluggishly out from the screen, this time to present himself to this formidable lady- the age, incidentally, of his Mom – in puris naturalibus. Desperately, as soon as he thinks of it, he throws his hands in front of his genitalia.
A Venus-pose. He hopes it looks natural . The obvious place to hang them, after all . Almost appearing an innocent afterthought. Folded, they might just cover the timberline of glistening pubic hair. Might even help cover an eventual erection.
Doctor Speight looks up to eye him through the glasses poised on the tip of her nose.
“That’s the boy ,” she says. looking right at him. Johnny blushes deeper than he has ever blushed in his life – and he is a natural blusher. But at least he’s got himself sort of covered.
“Now let’s weigh you. Up on the scales, John .”
Hands rigid before his member, Johnny awkwardly turns to cross the room. But – uh oh – he realizes he’s presenting the doctor with a picture- perfect view of his white globes right smack in her line of vision. The humiliation, he thinks, she can see all of my bare behind, my bum cheeks. As he hobbles onto the scales he’s also aware his loose scrotal sac is swinging slightly but at least his cock is limp…for now.
Please don’t let it get hard, he prays.
He stands on the scales staring fixedly ahead. With a clipboard the doctor moves to his side. Close – he can feel her fill the airspace.
“Let’s see. Yes, an average weight for a boy of your age. ” She writes on her notepad .
“Now over by the wall and we’ll take your height. ”
Hands in front Johnny moves to the measuring rod. He still suffers that unique tingle of fear in his guts : tense horror at being totally stitchless In front of a lady. The doctor aligns the measure with the top of his head – he feels her breath on his shoulders – and makes another note.
“Good. Now we’ll take measurements around your chest, waist and hips. Sooo… if you’ll just place your hands on your head .”
Again he registers an exquisite look of astonishment.
Once again, no alternative but to obey. Trembling he raises his arms to his head, revealing armpits bursting with proud black hair. And exposing lower down his scroll of pubic bush. Dangling from it is now revealed his wide young bratwurst, the foreskin covering the entire head, meeting at the tip in an irregular rosy pucker.
He is now completely open to her gaze. But she is over at her desk looking for something.
She swings back towards him with a tape measure. She keeps her eyes up, deliberately it seems, to avoid staring at his lily-white privates. Standing right in front of the scared, buck-naked 18 year-old she now encloses his upper body with outstretched arms and tape, pinching the two ends together. Just under his left armpit. He shudders, nearly jumps, at the tickle Turns beet red. This is terrible, just terrible.
He is beginning to think that something might be stirrring in his loins…
Doctor Speight, finished with his chest, now moves lower, slipping the encircling tape down Johnny’s trunk to his midriff where she repeats the exercise. Bet her eyes are feasting on me, he thinks, as he stares resolutely ahead. She can see everything a fella can call his own – my cock, my hair, my balls. Bet she’s going to make some king of fuss about me not being circumcised.
His self control is now being challenged.
The tingle of air around his unclothed genitals.
His top to toe nudity which, in his childhood in a very strict Catholic home, was always associated with being naughty. Being rude. Being disgusting and obscene.
Inevitably with such thoughts Johnny’s prick begins to thicken. To start, it’s barely perceptible. That big fleshy head with the grinning slit just protrudes a little from the foreskin as if to ask, ” Hi, what’s going on here? ”
Then it pushes further out, as the foreskin withdraws back along the shaft…which has now also decided to lengthen. Unmistakably, to lengthen.
This is a nightmare, thinks Johnny, she’s bending right over it. Right in her line of vision, inches away . She must be noticing that I’m beginning to ge a hard-on!
The doctor, however, is all business. She almost prattles, “We’re making a comprehensive record of how males your age develop. Sooo…all these measurements come in useful.”
Johnny is willing his prick to subside, marshalllng every fibre of self restraint. But it is at the point where that fleshy head – actually now at its full circumference – is lifting from the balls. Up and away! Always the crucial stage, the point of no return.
Please don’t shame me in front of a woman doctor, he orders his dick, please…what will she think? But Johnny’s prick is really stretching now. The skin tugs back along its shaft. It is pointing to the floor, at the angle of a slippery slide in a playground.
Fortunately she has finished with the tape and is making notations. ” Our aim is to chart growth from year to year,” she says concentrating on filling in the spaces. ” A very interesting exercise given that the male body at your age is at such a sensitive stage….”
There is sweat on Johnny’s brow as he attempts a triumph of the will. But his manhood continues to assert itself, sinews stretching to full length to stick out defiantly. And to swing into that curve, in one final pulse to point accusingly back at Johnny’s flat abs .
A final stiffening and he is sporting a stubborn, beam-hard erection, not quite your 45 degree textbook stiffy, given that banana -bend which is his distinguishing feature. But by any test, his membrum virile is well and truly there for all to see.
“Oh, you can put your hands down now,” she says with what Johnny recognizes as a sickly sweet tone. Probably suppressing a giggle at my embarrassment, he thinks. She is determinedly not looking down at his jutting meat. But he knows she knows, that is, about his embarrassment ; for one thing, because her manner has switched from businesslike efficiency to one of infinite understanding. A sort of maternal understanding. Sounding like one of those modern, educated, mothers who knows all about their son’s challenges, from nocturnal emissions and stained sheets and bulges in the fronts of their pajamas to bashful first dates.
And there is a hint of a smile.
She looks Johnny right in his moist, terrified eyes and says : “Now, John, the survey requires that I take a measurement below the waist….”
Johnny thinks, she’s gonna measure my dick!
“…that is, from your hip to knees, knees to feet. So if you make sure you’re standing very straight….”
That’s the problem, he thinks, I am straight – straight as an arrow and I can’t do anything about it! It’s jutting put, right at her!
The doctor bends in front of him. Johnny sees only the top of her head . Horrified he watches her kneel. He feels her press the end of the tape to the inside of his trembling thigh. He gapes but no sound comes out. Her thumb and forefinger are holding the tape in place…up there between his balls and calves!
Johnny’s stubborn young manhood rears above her, like an artillery piece on a battle cruiser. In fact, in such a sensitive spot her touch sends a few more jolts into his rigid prick and renders it, if possible, even harder. Oh no, he thinks, oh Christ ! He screws his eyes shut.
As she continues with the measurements he realises how ridiculous he must look, standing entirely naked, cock reared for action. He suddenly has a vision of his Mom seeing him now, in this condition, disgraced and shamed with a woman doctor. Sees all his private areas exposed and the doctor inches from this awful thing, his raging erection.
Then he has another shameful vision. A wicked little
fantasy that he has locked onto for as long as he can remember. He is there, buck-naked with his banana-shaped erection on display, and a party of girls from his class and his neighborhood are standing in front of him. Some of them, friends of his sisters. Neatly dressed in their school clothes, of course. Bright, successful students. Each staring greedily at his funny-shaped boner, nudging one another. Giggling in that , ruttish, girly way ; never taking their mocking eyes off his curved flesh standing absurdly to attention above the furry sack – which they also begin to find curious. And point at. Giggling because they find it as funny as his cock.
All of them dressed, of course. And he naked as a jay.
Being stripped nude before fully dressed, confident, grinning girls his own age – this is a notion that has often played in the back of his imagination, a smutty masturbation fantasy he has returned to more often than any other.
This dirty little thought sends some more electric currents through his gut, into his balls and out to the tip of his prick.
Johnny opens his eyes and sees Doctor Speight now upright and updating her notes. Well, he thinks, she certainly got an eye-full. No female has seen me down there since my mother and sister used to come into the bathroom when I was a kid, he thinks. I have never been so humiliated. And the thing’s still hard as ever.
Finished with her notes the doctor now faces her prey, looking him straight in the eyes, as if forcing herself not to have her vision drawn once again to the area of the poor lad’s shame.
Soothingly, again in the tone of a sweet understanding mother, she says to him : ” Now there’s just one other measurement we should take while we’re at this. There is absolutely nothing to be ashamed about but during growing up young men find their bodies change very quickly, especially with the changes down here….”
For the first time he sees her drop her gaze on his blood-hardened projection. This cannot be happening, he thinks with a visible shudder.
Again her tone is that of a very enlightened mother talking to a troubled teenage son. ” You found some years ago you developed hair around your genitals…” To illustrate the point her fingers brushed the edge of his bush. Looking right at it she goes on . “…and it looks like your penis and testicles have developed normally … And if you ever find yourself worrying about the bend in your penis, DON’T!”
She looked him in the eye and said : ” The male organ comes in all shapes and sizes and bends are not at all unknown. At a guess I would say one boy in 20 in your school would have either an outward or an inward angulation on his penis when erect, although few as strong as yours. But it is not Peyrorie’s disease and It is important you know it has no effect on a male’s capacity to enter a woman and have sexual congress….”
Johnny was suffering waves of deep blushing and his eyes were filling with tears, so acute was his shame at having his condition discussed while stark naked and inches from this doctor.
“…and as for involuntary erections like the one you have now, relax. Totally commonplace – especially in medical examinations, and especially with a woman doctor or nurse. In fact, we feel kind of flattered with such attention from a healthy young male . An athletic young man like you. ”
Her smile was devastating. He dropped his gaze. One tear actually spilled onto his cheek.
“Now, I’ll just check for hernia.”
Johnny’s eyes screwed shut again while the doctor delicately handled each ball in his tightened bag. Oh my God, he thought, if she knew the dirty pleasure I get from nightime thoughts about being stripped off in front of girls my own age, I wonder what she would think of me. I wonder what therapy she would recommend for a dirty mind like mine ; she might be able to see my stiff dick right now but thank the Lord she cannot read my filthy mind.
And he started to think again about his sister and her friends, all in their neat uniforms…smart 18- year old girls from his street and his class… getting a glimpse of him right now, a dumb sportsman, bare as a board with a lady doctor giving his hairy balls a good, drawn-out examination. Stretching the skin, fondling the delicate marbles. All while his cock was rampant. And he absolutely without a stitch. That was the key to it, whenever he summoned up this fantasy, which he had been doing on a regular basis since he started masturbating at age 12 or 13 : in his smutty private thoughts, he was the one in the nude and the girls were always completely dressed and enjoying that status and his buck-naked humiliation.
It has got to be ending soon, he was hoping as the doctor made a note about the health of his testicles. But…
“Now let’s just measure your growth down there.”
Whaaaaat? But incredibly it was happening. Johnny felt her press the end of the tape hard against his pubic bone – right in there with his hair – and stretch it along the curved, rock-hard length of his penis. Oh Jesus, he thought with his eyes screwed shut. If my mother could see her son having this done to him, in the raw, with a woman doctor. If my mother could see my shame…could see my stiff prick….
Meanwhile Doctor Speight struggled to accommodate the banana-bend, pressing the tape flat along the upper side of his appendage and making a third attempt before announcing, ” Six inches! Absolutely normal. Of course you may continue to grow even more. And remember, nothing to fret about in that curvature. It has no effect on function. And now…the circumference….”
Johnny endured what he was daring to hope was the final part of this horrible experience. And, with this measurement completed and recorded, there seemed to be a lull. Indeed the doctor went to the desk and made a quick call to – he thought – the principal’s secretary, something along the lines of ” being ready now. ” Presumably for the next poor sucker and his ritual humiliation.
But she returned to her current victim and, with a hand on the small of his back, steered Johnny, his cock still pointing hard at his belly, across to the examination table. He felt strange, walking under her direction totally nude with a stiff dick out in front. “A bit more work to do before we’re finished,” she said, in a coaxing tone. “Up we get, and lie flat on your back please.”
As Johnny lowered himself he was conscious of his rubber-hard erection being more obvious than ever, its curved underside with it’s big artery now exposed for the doctor’s delectation and approval. His mind began to drift again, to thoughts of what his mother would make of this.
And inevitably to his wicked but thrilling imaginings about being on display, nude and erect just like this, to a party of girls. Always in this fantasy, girls fully dressed. Indeed neatly dressed, right down to their perfectly pressed and pleated skirts and white ankle-length socks – their being like this, the most necessary part of his mental porn show .
It was a delicious fantasy and a distraction from his current dilemma. But he thought again how good it was a doctor can’t read our minds.
Meanwhile she had been saying something in that succoring, maternal voice. Something about a challenging new curriculum for senior girls in the school…on trial here before being applied in other schools in the county…all about lifting performance in biology…getting more final year girls to think of medicine as a career. He had barely been paying attention.
“Sooo… the principal thought of combining these special medical examinations for the senior boys like you with a special booster program for the most promising senior girl biology students.”
Suddenly she had the boy’s undivided attention. He felt a new wave of alarm.
Johnny was lying on the table. His penis was in its unapologetically bent and rock-hard state. The doctor was standing at the head of the table. He could see her upsidedown, looking at him from above as she continued her cooing talk, now turning in a very disturbing direction indeed.
What was she getting at?
“Girls this age are very mature. They have three years of human biology behind them. They can be – in my experience – very serious and studious. There is absolutely no pedagogical reason not to implement the policy the curriculum committee has approved .”
She paused. She had Johnny’s undivided attention. He was in fact feeling tremors of real horror.
“As for the boys,” she continued. ” Well, there is a whole body of psychological work about the benefit of total clothing deprivation of young males in the presence of females – mothers, teachers, doctors, aunts, even females their own age….”
There was a sudden commotion at the frosted glass door. Johnny lifted his head in alarm and saw the shadows of half a dozen figures – all female – and heard a knocking that sounded it would not take no for an answer.
“COME IN ” pronounced Doctor Speight very decisively. At the same time, bending her ample chest right over him, she fiercely took hold of both Johnny’s wrists and wrested them back to plant them on the table behind his head. Her grip was formidable. There would be no question of him shielding himself. No Venus-pose this time round. No desperate cover-up with his hands.
Which, would otherwise have been his instant response, as he saw the door open and the girls’ senior year biology tutorial surge in, all with clipboards that seemed to mimic Doctor Speight’s and with a determination in their eyes to make the most of a hands-on, up-close practical biology lesson. Devoted to the male body. At least their teacher, Miss Simpson, who also had a lively gleam in her eyes, had the courtesy to close the door behind them.
Not for the first time today, Johnny screwed his own eyes shut. His old friend the doctor had not released her grip on his arms and he was aware that six girls from his year at this school had an unobstructed view of his body crown to sole, and one hundred percent nude.
Miss Simpson was thanking the doctor for her help and even – this was outrageous – thanking Johnny Marcello for his co-operation. She was even beginning to talk about the human skeleton.
Johnny opened his eyes. In the circle of girls he instantly recognized loudmouthed Marjorie Homestead who lived at the bottom of his street and played womens’ soccer with his sister. He saw freckle-faced, red-haired Larissa Carstairs who he had teased and mocked since they had started high school together. He saw tall, skinny Diane Pallen who he felt had always pined after him but whom he thought repulsive. He saw…oh no, his sister herself, grinning broadly, her eyes wide as saucers and directing a laser beam of prurient interest right at his middle.
He clamped his eyes shut again. Miss Simpson was saying something about the shape of his sternum. None of them was looking at his sternum.
And they were all so neatly dressed.
This work of fiction is the first of a multiple part story. It lays the ground work for other “adventures” to come. I hope you enjoy it. Comments welcome.
The appointment to see our family doctor was here. She’d been treating me for blood pressure problems for a couple of years. A few months ago, I asked her about testosterone therapy, as I was experiencing fatigue. The addition worked magic, giving me more energy.
She wrote me new prescriptions, then said, “I need to check your genitals and prostrate. Please undress.” She had never asked to this this before, but I figured I was just overdue. The odd part of this was that she did not offer me a cover-up. I was sitting in a chair. She stood over me, holding her clipboard to her chest, staring me in the eye.
“C’mon, take off all your clothes and lie down on the table.”
My body was nothing to write home about. Age has taken its toll around the middle. I also shave my torso, including my genitals. But I figured she is my doctor, so what the hell.
I stood and began to unbutton my shirt. She turned and pulled out the stirrups on the exam table. She turned back around in time to see me unbuckle my pants and remove them, then finally my boxers. I stood naked before my petite, fully clothed female physician. I couldn’t help but blush, wondering what she thought when she saw my 2 inch flaccid penis.
She patted the table. I stepped up and lay on my back. “Put your feet in the stirrups, please.”
As I spread my legs and slid my heels into the braces, she went to the exam room door and called to her nurse. The nurse walked into the exam room and positioned herself where she could view anything that occurred at the end of the table. I also noticed she had a video camera.
“Uh, Dr. Ann; What’s with the camera?,” I asked.
“It’s for insurance purposes. With a female doing an exam on a male, it’s to protect both of us from any after-the-fact misunderstandings. We keep the video with your records.”
The doctor began examining my penis. She picked it up with thumb and forefinger and looked at it carefully.
“Oh, I forgot to mention that it’s perfectly normal for a man to have an erection during this exam. Don’t be embarrassed. Just let it happen. It will go away once I’m finished.”
She let go of my tiny penis and slyly glanced at the nurse, who was working hard to suppress a smile.
The doctor next began kneading my scrotum. She rolled my balls one by one between 2 fingers. She took extra time with the left one.
“Do you know about a varicocele? You have one, you know, around your left testicle.”
“Yes. I’ve had it since I was a teenager. It’s the reason I’m sterile.”
“There’s a chance it could get wrapped around your vas or artery going to the testicle. It could create an emergency situation that requires it to be removed.”
“Doc, considering they make no viable sperm and produce almost no testosterone, I think about having them removed. Since I started taking the testosterone supplement, they’ve been shrinking. And I know about the potential danger of the vericocele. Problem is that insurance won’t cover it unless something happens to require that I be castrated.”
“Aren’t you fearful of having your manhood cut off?” asked the doctor. “Most men would run screaming from the room.”
“The honest truth,” I said, “is that I haven’t copulated with another human since before my kids were conceived. I masturbate, but that’s it. At my age, I’ll never produce children, even if I had the growth removed. And now I’m having to take testosterone every day because my body doesn’t make it. What good are they?” For that matter, if I had the money, I’d have the whole package taken off and be done with it.”
I had forgotten that I was lying naked with my feet in stirrups while spilling some of my most closely-guarded secret feelings to my family doctor.
“Are you looking for a sex change? You shave your entire torso and say you want to remove your genitals. Sounds like you want to be a woman.”
I looked at her as she continued to examine my scrotum. “I started shaving my balls nearly 40 years ago. I’ve shaved & trimmed more and more of my body until started shaving my entire torso. I just don’t care for body hair. And let’s face it, given the size of my penis, I need as much of it to show as possible.”
“OK, I need to examine your prostate.”
I felt her gloved finger begin to push into my anus. She worked it in and out until she could insert 2 fingers easily. She then located my prostate and began to massage it.
“Your prostate feels normal, but I need a semen sample. Give me a moment.”
She pushed the fingers deeper, pushing harder on my prostate. After a few minutes, I began to feel an ejaculation coming on. It was very strange to have this feeling, since my penis was still completely limp. The nurse picked up a plastic cup with one hand and held my penis with the thumb and forefinger of the other. It took about another minute of the doctor massaging my prostate until I began ejaculating. The nurse held my soft penis as semen flowed into the cup.
The doctor finally stopped pushing on my prostate and the nurse milked out the remaining semen. The nurse let go of my penis and capped the plastic cup. Once she marked my name on the cup, she grabbed another cup and top.
The nurse ordered me to stand up and step down to the floor. She handed me another cup and told me to go into the adjoining bathroom and pee into the cup. She explained how to do get a “mid-stream” sample and instructed me to sit while peeing and to leave the door open. I did as I was told with both women standing at the door, watching me pee while seated on the toilet.
“Please come back and sit on the table,” the doctor said. “I want to speak with you before you get dressed.”
I rose from the toilet and washed my hands, still naked. Afterward, I walked across the room and sat back down on the exam table. About that time, the doctor and nurse both left the room. I sat there completely bare and in a daze, wondering where this was going. The doctor returned, swinging the door between the waiting room and exam room wide open. A couple of women happen to look up and see me sitting nude on the table. I was glad I was sitting so they couldn’t see my little penis.
“The semen sample we milked out of you confirmed there is no viable sperm. The urine sample indicates that the only testosterone in your system comes from your supplement. That means your testicles are no longer serving any purpose and yes, could be a cancer risk.”
“I have a proposition for you. If you really wish to be castrated and have your penis removed, I will do it for you at no charge. The only condition is that you let me have what I remove, no questions asked.
“There are other things you should know. Of course, your days of standing to pee will be over. Even though you’re taking supplement, you may become more passive in general and may see some loss of body hair. Are you interested in what I’m proposing?”
I literally could not speak. I was on complete overload. I was nude in a semi-public place with two clothed women standing before me. One of the women had just sodomized me. But the thought of ridding myself of my useless genitals sounded attractive.
Given the life-changing decision I was being asked to make, I would have expected a little more time to consider it. But she wanted my answer on the spot.
I really didn’t have to think about it. It would fulfill a fantasy I had had for years. I would physically become fully the drone I had been in function for years. It was true I hadn’t fucked anyone but Rosy Palm in nearly 2 decades. Pretty bad for a guy who had been married for that time.
“I agree,” I said. “When can you do it?”
“I have no more appointments. No time like the present.”
“Sure,” I said. Something about this arrangement apparently appealed to me as my peepee began to enlarge. Unfortunately, it stopped at its usual maximum of 4 inches.
She looked at my tiny rod and smiled. “You really do have a little boy’s penis, don’t you?”
I felt myself blush and I hung my head. My penis stayed erect, despite my humiliation.
“I want you to start getting ready,” she said. Jerk yourself off and stay hard until I tell you.” I took my thumb and forefinger and began stroking my glans.
The nurse came in with instruments in a sterile package and a syringe full of clear liquid and began arranging them on a tray, covered by a sterile towel.
“You can either lie down with your feet in stirrups, or we can arrange it so you can watch,” the nurse said to me. “Which to you prefer?”
“I’ll watch,” I said. I couldn’t let this one-time event go unwitnessed. “In fact, I’d like you to video it and give me a copy.”
The nurse nodded, then adjusted the exam table to make it so I could sit up and watch. She adjusted the stirrups and ordered me to put my feet into them. Since I was sitting, it forced my legs apart, but not high into the air. Even though the intent was to rid myself of my manhood, I was still was feeling humiliated by being on display, given the small size of my package.
“You can watch me amputate your penis, testicles and scrotum. But you will have to lie down and be anesthetized in order to complete the final step,” said Dr. Ann.
I continued masturbating as the doctor had ordered. “What do you have to do?”
I will reroute your urethra. Since you won’t have a penis for urination, I will move the end to your perineum. This will make it easier and cleaner for you to pee while sitting. It will also allow me to make your pubis smooth, rather than have an ugly visible stump left. Your recovery will be longer, but the result will be much better.
She had just described my “ultimate” fantasy. Listening to her tell me what would happen so excited me that I started to cum. What semen was left after being milked spilled down my little erection (not enough to “shoot”) and on to my smooth pubic area. It was my final orgasm.
The nurse quickly wiped up my cum and began washing my pubic area from my navel to my anus. After washing for a few minutes, she swabbed the entire area with a disinfectant. After she cleaned up the prep items, she put on a sterile gown, as did Dr. Ann.
Dr. Ann looked me in the eye and said, “If you have any lingering doubt, now is the time to speak up. There will be no going back once I start.”
I looked down at my boy-like genitals for a moment, then looked Dr. Ann in the eye. “What have I got to lose? I’ll be better off without them, don’t you agree?”
She nodded and picked up the syringe. She began injecting numbing liquid around the base of my penis, then the same for my scrotum. She then injected the liquid directly into each testicle. The burning pain was incredible. But once the anesthetic began to take hold, I could no longer feel either my cock or balls.
“Scalpel,” the doctor called. The nurse handed her the knife and Dr. Ann quickly began removing what had defined so much of my life until that time.
I had always been a loser with a boy-sized penis. From the days of locker rooms in junior high and high school, to dating, I had been humiliated over and over again when other boys and dates saw how small I was. Even when I found a woman who said she “loved me regardless of the size of my prick,” she eventually became sexually frustrated and cuckolded me with fertile men who flaunted their large cocks. Once she experienced that, she told me sex with me a waste of her time.
I raised a son and a daughter , neither of which were my biological children, but the result of my wife breeding with large-cocked lovers (the children, born of my wife, each had been conceived during sex with different men) while I watched and jerked off. Once she discovered the satisfaction of being fucked by men who would fill and stretch her vagina, I had not been permitted intercourse or sex beyond masturbating myself.
Fortunately, my son grew a large cock. He has not been unkind about the difference, but has made mention of it in front of my wife and daughter when we enjoy nude family swims. When he comments about my small size, my wife will look at me with a smirk and measure out the size of the man who had impregnated with the boy. He had had an incredibly thick, 10″ club of a cock.
Within 3 or 4 minutes, my penis was lying in a metal pan and Dr. Ann was busy cutting away the portion of my scrotum she would not need to close me up after she cut out my testicles. I could feel the knife blade slicing away on the skin and the tissue underneath. Somewhere in there were the tubes that would no longer carry the worthless sperm for delivery in an ejaculation. I had shot my last load in this little room while my family doctor watched me masturbate. Like all the other loads I had delivered in my life, it was small in volume. It included no sperm that could have impregnated a female; only dead and damaged ones.
I watched as the last of my sac was cut away, it too ending up in a metal pan. Even with the area numbed, it felt very different to not have the weight of my little package hanging between my legs. But I was glad to see them go.
The nurse moved to the head of the table and connected a rubber mask to the wall. She then re-adjusted the table, reclining me to a lying position.
“This is the step that you’ll need to go to sleep for. Are you doing OK?” Dr. Ann asked. I nodded. While I didn’t say so then, I was happy.
The nurse put the mask over my mouth and nose and I quickly lost consciousness.
the end -
“You first encountered the defendant where, Mr. Philips?”
“At my gym. We were members of the same gym.”
I did not want to be here, in this courtroom. But the DA had intimidated me. He had said that they might delve deeper into why I was in Baltimore—why I had left San Diego. I really didn’t want them to do that. I had just fallen into it in San Diego. I didn’t know they were illegal immigrants. I was just working in a worker-placement office. Sure, I was dumb and nonobservant. But is that a crime? California thought it might be, it seems. But I hadn’t waited around to find out, and they hadn’t come after me. And the issue hadn’t come up again until the DA was looking for witnesses to help put Dr. Martin away.
“And did Dr. Martin make untoward advances to you in your gym, Mr. Philips? In the gym’s sauna?”
“I don’t understand.”
The prosecutor turned and looked at me over his glasses with his head tilted down—the “Oh really?” look. Done for the jury, I was sure. “You understand what this trial is about, don’t you, Mr. Philips? Dr. Martin stands accused of entrapment, holding his victims in captivity, and rape. You do understand that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I answered. I knew what the prosecutor wanted. I knew what might happen if I didn’t give it to him. But it would be skating on thin ice here. I tried to tell him how it really was, but he didn’t want to hear it. He told me to keep my answers short and right to the point of the questions he asked. But already he was making it difficult for me to give him the answers he wanted and not perjure myself—and even more important to me, not reveal what I didn’t want to face.
“Then I ask you again, Mr. Philips. Did Dr. Martin make untoward advances to you in the gym sauna room?”
“Yes . . . I guess so.”
“You guess so, Mr. Philips? It seems a straightforward question. Either he did or he didn’t.”
“Yes, yes, he did. But I hesitated in my first response, because I didn’t know it at the time. I didn’t know it was a sexual approach. I was so naïve and it happened so indirectly. I’m embarrassed to testify to how dumb I was at that time. And there was that medical element—that confused and numbed me to what was happening, I think.”
“We’ll get to the medical aspect in a moment. Let’s take this step by step. You’d never had sex with a man before, had you, Mr. Philips?”
“No. Never before. Never before Dr. Martin.”
“And you didn’t ask him to take advantage of you, did you, Mr. Philips? You didn’t ask him to perform sex on you in the sauna or ask to go back to his office and be restrained and taken again, more fully—be penetrated in a sex act? You didn’t initiate any of that with Dr. Martin, did you?”
“No. No, I didn’t.”
I could see now why I was told to keep my answers short and to the point. I’d almost drifted off in an unwanted direction. But the prosecutor had brought me back. And his questions were now leading me to short, specific response that would help me stay clear of the shoals while he phrased the questions to elicit the answers he wanted—the short, specific answers he was leading me to, and nothing more.
But, although I was answering his questions truthfully, this was misleading. This isn’t exactly how it transpired. I wasn’t the raped innocent. I had denied—was still denying—so much to myself. But I couldn’t pretend on that point—not any longer.
It had started months before, and I wasn’t blameless in getting it started. I had thought about it when I was younger, but I had put it out of my head. I’d been told it was a choice, and I made the choice not to do it. I went to college and kept away from it, even though it was rampant on the sports teams I was on. And I got married right out of school and got a job just like any regular guy. The marriage hadn’t worked out, but I thought at the time that it was just something that wasn’t meant to be, that we were too young. It wasn’t until later that it occurred to me that it just wasn’t satisfying—not in that way. That it was me, not her.
I probably would never have thought about it at all if I hadn’t stopped to take a leak at that rest stop south of Washington, D.C., on I-95 on my way to a business meeting in Richmond. And even then I walked away from it, immediately, in total shock, without any thought of doing anything. While I was at the urinal, a guy came in and stood beside me at the other urinal. I was petrified when I felt him touch me on my penis and turned around to see that he was flashing me and making a circle with his mouth, obviously offering me something.
I was in shock. I didn’t say anything or try to hit him or anything. I just wet myself down the inseam of my trousers and turned and stumbled out of the facility. I went back to my car and got in and just sat there, shaking, my eyes glued to the men’s room door. I saw another young guy go in—with the other guy still in there. And he didn’t come out. Neither of them came out while I sat there. I knew what they were doing in there; I knew that it could have been me, if I had stayed. I felt guilty about how my mind was playing with that. My hands were still shaking several minutes later when I started the car up and pulled out of the rest stop.
I hadn’t done anything. Nothing happened. But in the ensuing weeks, I thought about it—increasingly. And I started fantasizing about it. I began to think of the what ifs. And it turned on my curiosity, and I went to the Internet and sought out the sites I didn’t even know had existed before.
A few weeks later I changed gyms. I didn’t need to change my gym. And I guess if I was pressed to tell all in this courtroom, I’d say that this was the beginning of my undoing—the first action beyond just thinking about it down that slippery slope. And that, no, Dr. Martin might have been the vehicle—and he may be as evil and criminal as they are making him out to be—but he isn’t guilty of everything the prosecution is implying—at least not in my case. Maybe the other witnesses can justify their case. Truth be told, though, I don’t think I could go that far in my own case.
In my own case, I was embarrassingly naïve, yes, but I guess I really wanted it. His wasn’t the first approach at the gym, and I invited the earlier one, even though I was just being a tease, I thought. I’d seen sex in the sauna before—if I was to fully disclose what happened, I’d have to admit that I changed to this gym because I heard about it. I’d heard what happened there—and, specifically, in the sauna there.
I told myself that the tease and the what iffing and the voyeurism were enough. That’s what I told myself initially when I changed gyms.
A week or so before Dr. Martin took me, I’d been laying on one of the benches, covered with a towel, when one of the guys I’d seen have sex in the sauna before came in there when I was in there alone. When I’d seen him before, I’d come into the sauna when he was sitting close to another guy—both young and well-built—and I got the strong impression that they’d had their hands on each other before I came in. They stopped and leaned away from each other when I came in, though. I sat there for a few minutes, looking at them. But they didn’t do anything. I really wanted them to do something, something I could watch without doing it myself. I’d been looking at it in videos on the computer, but this would be live; this would be a step up. And I thought this would be enough. Then I could go off by myself and take care of myself while thinking about what I’d seen actually happen, in live action, in front of me.
The three of us just sat there. They obviously were waiting for me to leave. So, I did. And I went for a cold shower and waited for them to come out—they’d gone in before me, so they should be coming out to cool off in the shower themselves. But they didn’t. So, I went back in. Now they were too far along to just pull away from each other, though. They both had their towels off and one guy was leaning over the other one and working the other guy’s cock with his mouth, while he beat his own. And this time, they just continued as if I wasn’t even there.
So, I sort of dallied in my exercises a couple of days later when I saw the guy who’d given the blow job doing his. And a short time before I figured he was finishing his routine, I went to the showers and then to the sauna. I laid down on a bench, with my towel around my midsection, knotted at my waist. Sure enough, the guy came into the sauna and sat further down the bench from me, below my legs. I was nervous and trembling, but it was something I was building up to, something I wanted. I was wrong when I thought that I’d be content with just seeing it live and that this would be enough to fuel my masturbation dreams. After seeing it, I wanted to experience it to.
I spread my legs, pulling the towel tight, leaving a wide gap at the bottom between my wide-stanced legs so that he could see all the way up my legs under the towel—just for the thrill of that much of a connection, I thought. Another guy had come into the sauna and was sitting across from us. I didn’t know before, but I know now that it was Dr. Martin. The first guy didn’t seem put off by Dr. Martin being there, and I began to hyperventilate—but in a good way. Being aroused that some other guy would watch us. I was getting hard—some guy the first one was comfortable having watch.
The blow job guy moved closer to me. I moaned at the very thought of what we were moving toward, probably loud enough for both of them to hear, when he put a hand on my ankle. I did nothing, and the hand went up onto my calf. My mind flipped ahead to feeling the hand on my thigh, under the towel, and then higher. And I knew I’d be hard by that time.
I had a vision of his hand reaching and encasing my cock, and beating me off slowly, as my eyes went from his to the rise and fall of the towel still encasing my midsection and then to those of the other guy in the sauna, watching us.
But then a couple of other guys came into the sauna and he stopped, his hand pulling away from my ankle. And, scared suddenly, I got up and escaped out to the showers—and masturbated under the flowing water at the image of what hadn’t happened.
So, I was ripe for it, I know. I could say that I hadn’t verbally asked for any of it. But I couldn’t truthfully say that I didn’t want any of it—and that I hadn’t sent out signals that I did. Or that I didn’t know I’d go through with it, given the opportunity.
“And in the sauna, Mr. Philips. When you had your first sexual encounter with Dr. Martin, did you know that this was what was happening? Did you ask Dr. Martin to touch and fondle you?”
“No, I had no idea. I thought that it was me, that I was misinterpreting what was happening. And that any sexual connotation in it was mine—and it embarrassed me.”
“How could that be, Mr. Philips? Did you purposely expose yourself to Dr. Martin to initiate a sex act? Did you ask him to handle your genitals and cause you to ejaculate?”
“No, I didn’t. And I thought I was the only one who had any such ideas about it as being a sexual encounter. I mean he was a doctor—and was so clinical. He said he’d seen something that he questioned medically, and he seemed to just be trying to help me, to give me medical advice. And I was nervous—and thought my reaction was just because I’d never had that happen before and the circumstances were so . . . strange, unusual.”
“Let us be clear about another point while we are in this line of questioning, Mr. Philips. Did you at any time touch Dr. Martin in this sauna encounter? Specifically, did you handle Dr. Martin’s genitals?”
“No, no, I did not.” I was emphatic about that answer—because on that point, at least, I could clearly answer. I had not touched him in any way. He had seemed to want me to at one point, but I wasn’t at all ready for that in the sauna on that occasion. I knew why the prosecutor had asked this question. He sensed that my feelings of guilt had me on the edge of saying more than I had—more than he wanted me to say. He was leading me—and the jury—back to safer ground.
“Thank you, Mr. Philips. Strange and unusual circumstances you said in response to the previous question. So, you didn’t go into that sauna to have sex with Dr. Martin, did you, Mr. Philips?”
“No.” Skating on thin ice here, but he’d prepared me on this point. I hadn’t seen the guy giving blow jobs in the gym that evening. When I’d gone in the sauna, I wasn’t thinking of having sex there with anyone, let alone Dr. Martin, who I didn’t even know. But my general idea of going into the sauna was someday to have sex with another man in there, so this was a circumstance for me to listen very carefully to how the prosecutor worded his questions and to answer them just as I thought he wanted them answered.
“Did Dr. Martin . . . in the sauna on the evening in question, did Dr. Martin identify himself to you as a doctor, Mr. Philips?”
“And did he or did he not indicate that he observed some possible medical problem with you while the two of you were in the sauna alone?”
“And what was the nature of that medical problem?”
“I’m not sure, really. Even now. He used medical terms and indicated that there might be some abnormality in my . . . in my . . .”
“With your genitals?”
“Yes. With my genitals. He started asking me some medical questions, and I became concerned that there was something wrong with me, and he seemed to be giving me free advice.”
“And why would he even see your genitals, Mr. Philips? Were you accustomed to exposing yourself in the gym.”
“No, no, of course not. But it was a sauna and an all-men’s gym. It was customary for some of the men to go in there uncovered—with a towel but not using it to cover themselves. Using it in the sauna to cushion them from the hot wood of the benches. Nobody seemed to worry about that. I didn’t walk around nude, but plenty of the other men did, and nothing was made of it. It was a men’s gym. I had undone my towel to wipe my face off and just hadn’t covered myself with it again. Lots of the men just walked around the locker room and sat in the sauna in the nude. It was just a guy thing.”
I looked up to see that the prosecutor was holding his hand up. I knew I had rambled, but beforehand he’d told me that wasn’t a real problem. That if I showed to the jury that I was nervous about any of that, it would actually help his case.
“And so, although you were embarrassed by the situation, Dr. Martin had made you concerned about possibly having a medical problem—maybe a serious medical problem—and in your mind he was doing a cursory examination to advise on whether you should be worried about it or not?”
“And his attitude. Was he clinical in his approach, or did he make it clear that he was soliciting you for sex.”
“He was clinical.”
“You never suspected he had any motives other than to give you medical advice on what possibly was a serious condition?”
“No. As I said, nothing like this had happened to me before. I knew it seemed a compromising position—to me, at least. But I thought it was all something I was imagining. And I didn’t want to be impolite or to cause an incident.”
“And in the course of his, as you considered it, examination, his fondling, he brought you to ejaculation?”
“Did this happen quickly, or was it over a prolonged period?”
“Quickly. I was nervous and embarrassed and confused about the situation.”
“And what did you do then? Did you enjoy it and ask him to do it again?”
“You apologized?” The prosecutor’s eyebrows went up, and he smiled. Then he turned to the jury and shock his head before looking back at me for my response. I waited until he was facing me before answering. I needed the time to steady my voice.
“Yes, I thought he would get the wrong idea. I was embarrassed.”
“Yes, of course. But then he did it again, didn’t he? This time for a longer duration in time.”
“And you let him. Still unaware of any motivations on his part that weren’t medical. Still believing that you weren’t having sex?”
“For me, it was sex—and I was confused and embarrassed by that, not knowing how I had gotten to that point. But I just thought that I was the only one who realized that—that he was just giving free medical advice, trying to help me. It made a difference to me—at the time—that it seemed only me who took it as sex. Somehow, if it wasn’t him too, it wasn’t really . . . a sex act.”
It sounded really lame to me, but the prosecutor was still smiling, so I guess I was doing OK for his purposes. I plunged ahead. “He said that ejaculating when I was soft, as I did the first time, might be a symptom of a serious problem—that I should be hard when I ejaculated.”
“And so he brought you to ejaculation again, with you going hard, and you let him?”
“Yes. I know it sounds stupid now. But I was embarrassed and concerned. I thought I might have a serious medical problem and this was not a good place—on my body, you know—to be having a medical problem. And he was explaining that what he was doing was necessary to check the problem out.”
“And then afterward, what did he say?”
“That I really needed more medical tests, and soon. And that his medical office was nearby and he’d be happy to check me out a bit more—just so I would know if there really was a problem, in which case he’d be happy to refer me to a specialist.”
“And none of this was suspicious to you?”
“No, not at the time. I was grateful. If there was something seriously wrong, I felt relieved and grateful that help was at hand.”
“And you went to his medical office with him that night?”
All true, but, at the same time all misleading. It’s true I was seduced by the medical line he fed me. But it was nearly as implausible then as it sounded like it was when I was testifying here. On the surface I believed everything just as my carefully tailored testimony revealed—but under the surface—and not too far under the surface—it was less a seduction than a fulfillment of desires.
I was attracted to Dr. Martin from the beginning—from the moment I saw him entering the sauna when the other guy was making a move on me. From that moment, I wanted to have sex with him—and had done so a couple of times in my mind already. He was middle aged, maybe fifteen years older than I was, but he was in great shape and quite handsome. We were alone in the sauna throughout the seduction encounter. I’d gone in before him. We’d both been exercising in the gym, and he’d come by and said a few things to me—just pleasantries and a bit of encouragement when I was trying to struggle out those last five reps of a routine.
We’d been on the floor at the same time on previous occasions and he’d said nothing to me. But that was before the evening when he’d come into the sauna and seen the blow job guy make advances to me without me resisting. Now it was evident that he wanted me to notice him. And shortly before I left the floor, he asked me if he’d see me in the sauna and gave me a “special” smile.
So I wasn’t all that surprised by anything that happened afterward.
I was waiting for him in the sauna. And I didn’t bother to cover myself with the towel as I sat on the top level of the benches. He came in and sat close to me on the bench below mine and nearly into my leg—and he started talking to me, looking up into my face. Of course he could see the goods; he was almost at eye level with them. I remember thinking I really should cover myself, but that it might be too obvious that I was uncomfortable if I did—but knowing that, in these thoughts, I was kidding myself. That was just the surface me. I was glad I was uncovered.
He had his towel open too, giving me a good view of his cock. His cock wasn’t thick, but it was one of the longest ones I’d ever seen. I was sitting the same way, full frontal, on the higher bench. Then he started by noticing something he thought might be wrong with my genitals. He said he was a doctor, and I remember being uncomfortable but not wanting to make a scene and believing that he really was being clinical—almost disappointed that he was. He certainly was taking his time, making me feel that maybe this wasn’t what I thought it was. The blow job guy seemed to get right down to business when and how he was able.
At that point I was thinking more about how much longer I should be in the sauna than about him. It was all so ludicrous, but he was a doctor, and he had me embarrassed about even thinking he shouldn’t be touching me there. He was being clinical and using words I couldn’t understand and he was probably making up. I went semihard and was embarrassed about that, and then I came almost immediately, He tut tutted and said that was fine, and actually indicated I might not have a problem, but that he’d have to do it again to be sure—that I’d need to be hard, and I wasn’t fully hard the first time. I was being dopey, and he thought I probably was being coy—neither really, I was still just struggling with myself and being confused. He did ask me if I had enjoyed it—that there might be a problem if I’d had pain rather than pleasure.
He asked me if I had any trouble performing sex and whether I was hetero or gay. I told him I was hetero and that I was embarrassed that I had come when he touched me. He told me again there was no reason to be embarrassed and said it was quite healthy to have both hetero and gay sex. He was even then giving me a second slow hand job, though, and I just sat there and let him jack me off again—taking much longer this time, but me getting much harder too. I sat back against the wall, and widened my leg stance and closed my eyes, telling the world I just wasn’t there—had no idea anything was happening—but concentrating every fiber of my senses on what was happening between my legs, engraving it all in my memory so I could play it all back to myself later—and maybe make even more out of it than it was already was.
He complimented me on the good shape I was in and touched and prodded me in a couple of other places on my body, like he was giving me a muscle tone exam of some sort.
He asked me again if I’d ever been with a man before, and I said no. He told me then that either I might have a problem or not—he didn’t think so, but if I did, it was something I needed to take care of immediately or it would get far worse quickly. He said it could quickly lead to impotency if not corrected. Then he said it wouldn’t take much to determine whether it should be followed up but that the procedures that needed to be done should be done in a doctor’s office. Almost as an afterthought, he asked me if I was busy that evening—that his medical office was nearby and he could do the testing himself. If that was OK with me. It would save me the worry of trying to get an immediate appointment with my regular doctor.
“And when you went to his medical office that evening, Mr. Philips, is it not true that he restrained you and drugged you and engaged in penetration sex on you?”
“No further questions then. And that, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, is what, in legal terms, we call entrapment, holding victims in captivity, and raping them—criminal offenses against the state, not to mention against innocent victims. In this case perpetrated by a medical doctor, entrusted by the community to save lives, not to prey upon the young. Thank you for being so forthcoming in an embarrassing position, Mr. Philips.”
Then the prosecutor turned to the judge and said, “I am finished with this witness now. The prosecution now rests, your honor.” He looked very pleased with himself as he sauntered back to his chair.
And well he should, because although I had been able to answer all of his questions truthfully, a more detailed version of the story wouldn’t be anywhere close to being as incriminating as he made it out to be.
Yes, I had gone to the doctor’s medical office that evening, each of us driving separately, so that he wouldn’t have to bring me back to the gym. But I couldn’t directly testify that I didn’t know what would happen in that medical office. And I had thoroughly responded to that second hand job in the sauna, and I knew it was sex. I knew by then that the medical jargon and explanation was just a cover.
And the prosecutor didn’t ask me what the doctor was doing with his other hand while “testing” my ejaculation reflexes that second time. He was using his other hand to “test” his own reflexes, and I was enjoying watching him doing it, even though when he signaled he would prefer me doing it for him, I wasn’t ready to go that far. And I watched him ejaculate as well. And if he’d asked me to do it for him again at that point, I would have been ready to do so.
In the examination room, the doctor left to change into his surgical coat after telling me to strip down and climb up on the vinyl-covered table with a strip of white paper down the center. When he returned, he asked me to lie down on my back on the table and he secured my legs in stirrups that held them spread out and elevated. That was the restraint the prosecutor had referred to. It’s true my legs were secured in a stirrup device, but I could probably have escaped the table if I had wanted to.
The doctor was wearing a white medical coat, and he had surgical gloves on and was carrying a jar of salve.
“The first test is one where I milk you,” he said. “Do you understand what that entails?”
“Do you know that you have a prostate? Sort of a men’s G-spot, in your ass channel. And that if that’s stimulated, it will cause you to harden and ejaculate?”
“Yes, I’ve heard of that.”
“I can stimulate it with my finger. You will feel pleasure and the need to ejaculate, which is exactly what you should do. And there is no need to be embarrassed. It’s a normal medical procedure. I thereby can tell if your testacies are working as they should. You are young and in excellent condition. If everything is working, this will help determine that is so. Are you ready for that?”
“Yes, I guess so.”
He slathered up the fingers on the glove of his right hand and placed his left hand on my belly. I moaned and grabbed hold of two handles on the side of the table. I tried initially to suppress my moaning, but the doctor said that this was natural and that we were alone and I could just let it go.
He then encased my engorging cock with his left hand, the glove on that hand now slick with the salve, and between sliding his hand up and down on my cock and the finger up in my channel rubbing back and forth on my prostate, I began to roll my hips and moan deeply and moved to a prodigious ejaculation.
“There, that’s fine. You did splendidly,” he said brightly. “All of that seems to be in perfect working order.”
I watched as he stripped off the gloves and tossed them in a nearby trash bin. And then I watched with more interest as he unbuttoned his medical coat and pulled it aside to reveal that he was naked—and had a raging hard on.
“The next procedure is that I fuck you,” he said, using a matter-of-fact tone, giving no dramatic signal that we were moving from the self-delusional over into full reality. He stood there, looking into my eyes with his, challenging me to try to maintain this charade of ours.
This would be the point at which I could have objected and accused him of what he was being criminally charged with and made every effort to leave the room. But I just lay there, naked on my back, with my legs spread and lifted in metal stirrups, and all of my senses tuned up to high.
Assured that I had not reacted negatively to his stripping away of pretenses, the doctor continued, in that clinical of his, “Now, you say you are a virgin, that this will be your first time. For full pleasure for your first experience, I would suggest a mild sedative. Are you allergic to anything?” He was being so matter-of-fact, so clinical and soothing even in this circumstance that I just dumbly lay there, assuring him that I had no allergies and just watched as he came up with a needle and turned my arm over, patted me in the crook of my arm until a vein rose to the surface, and inserted the needle.
I felt a warm sensation. I was at peace with the universe. No cares in the world. No concern, as I watched him crown his cock with a condom. Just the feeling of tightness as his bulb pushed against and then into my opening. And then a long sigh in stereo—both his and mine—as he slid up into me, slowly. And then the faraway sounds of grunts and moans and groans—which at some point I realized were coming from me—as he began to pump my ass in long, deep strokes, his hands grabbing my waist and pulling me in hard on his cock as he thrust inside me—at first slowly, deliberately, and then, as he lost control, with a frenzy of taking—until we were both drained.
“I have just a few questions for you before you step down, Mr. Philips.” The defense attorney was standing in front of me, rocking a bit back and forth on his feet. His expression suggesting that he had swallowed the canary.
“How many times did Dr. Martin engage in penetration sex that evening?”
I thought hard on that. The prosecutor hadn’t told me how to slide away from that one. “Once. No, twice, I think.”
“Twice?” the defense attorney said. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I think so. I’m not really sure. I was sedated.” I was, in fact, sure. It was three times. This was my first lie. And I didn’t like having to lie.
“And was your movement restricted each time Dr. Martin formed sex on you, Mr. Philips?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t really a lie. I was almost immobile from the drugs and Martin was a powerful man. He held me tightly with or without the stirrups. And that last time, it wasn’t the doctor performing sex on me.
“I mean, were you physically restrained by the equipment after the first time?”
There was a long pause, but I wasn’t going to flatly lie again. “No.”
“And after the first time, where did the second act of sexual penetration occur?”
Another long pause.
“Please answer the question, Mr. Philips.” This admonishment came down from the judge’s bench.
“On the couch in his office . . . and then on his bed in his adjoining residence.”
“And when did you leave the residence?”
A slight pause until I sensed the judge was about to speak up again. “The next morning.”
“Before or after another act of sexual penetration?”
“While bound, or just on his bed?”
“On his bed.”
“And did Dr. Martin try to prevent your departure any time during the night. Did he not sleep during the night?”
“No he didn’t have me bound all night. Yes, he did sleep.”
Waking to find him stretched beside me, an arm on my chest, his palm covering my nipple. Laying there, watching him in repose. Thinking of what he’d done to me. Grateful I had been freed of the wonder and worry of it, but guilty at having gone beyond that beaded curtain, knowing I couldn’t go back—not after having experienced it. Guilty at having enjoyed it, wanting more of it.
I moved my hand to his penis and lifted it from his body. A chill ran up my spine at the heft of it, even in repose—at the knowledge of where it had been, how monstrous and filling it had been—that I had managed all of that. The closeness of that—man in man, a merging connection. That he had wanted me, wanted to be inside me. Feeling wanted, needed, possessed. Had schemed to have me. My hand tingled at the new-found power. I moved my hand on the shaft, shuddering and enjoying the thrill of feeling it grow, harden at my caress.
A snort and a sigh and a movement in his legs, turning his body toward me, a slight undulation in his hips as he added movement, moving his hard cock back and forth inside my cupped-hand embrace.
I felt his hand at the back of my head, gently pushing it down, toward the center of him. A tentative taste and a feeling of pleasure, a feeling transferring from him as he moaned when my lips moved down over the glans of his cock. Stretching my lips, widening my jaw, making my mouth cavity as voluminous as possible to accommodate the invading flesh and hard muscle.
A frenzy of moment, a gagging and a groaning, but ever so brief, as my need, my own want overcame me. And I was straddling his hips with my thighs, panting and whimpering and sighing as, slowly, relentlessly, only slightly painfully, we became joined once again, him deep inside me, and I began to move my channel on the sheathed sword, trying to feel every touch of him against every square inch inside of me. Swaying and moving in waves, bucking and crying out. Him not fucking me. Me fucking myself on a mighty, throbbing mast.
“And did you ever visit the doctor’s office or house again—for repeated acts of sexual penetration?”
“Yes.” It was a whisper, but I’m sure everyone in the court heard it.
“And on what occasions, Mr. Philips?”
“Whenever he asked me to come.”
“And have you had sex in the sauna at your gym with other men, Mr. Philips? Since your encounters with Dr. Martin.”
I just lowered my head. There was no half-truth, side-stepping way to respond to that question.
The defense lawyer’s voice dripped with victory. “Judge, may counsel approach the bench?”
Emily let Conrad lead her into the lavish dining room. Normally fit for dinner parties, Josiah insisted on using it for family dinners as well. Rachel would not be dining with them that evening, and Josiah was clearly surprised at her absence. Conrad smiled charmingly as he steered Emily to a chair and had her sit down. She blushed furiously under Josiah’s gaze.
“Rachel is undergoing treatment, and is unfit to attend dinner.”
“Unfit! What happened to her? I thought she–” Josiah was silenced as Conrad raised a hand.
“She’s quite well, she’s simply undergoing an intensive treatment at the moment and is unable to join us. I assure you, you will notice a marked difference in her demeanor when you do see her.” He turned to Emily, seated next to him, “Emily is assisting me with Rachel’s treatment. She is perfectly suited to the role, and quite obedient. I simply cannot manage her alone, and I require someone who is dispassionate and able to quickly follow instruction; you understand why I could not ask you.”
“I — Of course,” Josiah said, glancing once more at Emily, who seemed to hunch herself over all the more in an effort to make herself less noticeable. “Well, sit up, girl!” Josiah bellowed. Emily sat, arrow straight, and staring ahead at her plate. Josiah was unaccustomed to girls following his commands, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. Rachel would have arched her back, slowly, displaying her small breasts. Emily, however, looked like she was straining to maintain her posture.
Despite her inelegance, Emily was appealing to the eye. Though she lacked Rachel’s delicate features and bright eyes, she had a handsome face. Her eyebrows arched very prettily over large, doe-like eyes. Her mouth was full and sensuous, and her breasts were large as her hips were wide. It was probably a godsend that she carried herself with a complete lack of grace, or else a simple switch of her hips would have every man in the household distracted and agitated.
Josiah maintained conversation with Conrad, but he took in how the young man treated the maid. While Emily didn’t shift as Rachel had done, she remained flushed and flustered easily if anyone spoke to her.
“I would very much like to see how Rachel’s treatment is progressing, being a student myself,” Josiah mused near the end of their meal.
“I would love to have you up to my rooms later in the month to see, however, I must warn you that Rachel is in a precarious position at the moment. I believe she manipulated your affection for her and was able to retard her progress these past few years. If she sees you, it may well have an adverse effect on her treatment.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
After dinner, Conrad sent Emily to her room, telling her that he would require her services again in an hour. She nodded, and without a word, walked uncomfortably up the stairs, gripping the metal balls inside of her as tightly as she could. With every step, they gently bumped against each other, sending vibrations through her, and causing her muscles to shudder uncontrollably. When she finally made it to her tiny attic bedroom, she was shaking and her palms were damp. Conrad lingered only a moment to watch her progress before turning and going up to his private wing.
Rachel was nearly unconscious when he found her, and he watched, silently, the room lit only by moonlight, as the machine started up again. She had hardly any voice left, but let out a soft moan as the eggs began throbbing inside of her. Her back arched involuntarily, and as it did, he saw the chair below her was drenched. As the machine wound down, he turned it off with a click.
“Were you able to achieve release?” He asked.
Rachel shook her head, her hips pushing up, almost imperceptibly, with need.
“That’s a shame,” Conrad replied, and left, closing the door behind him, leaving her with the now dormant eggs deep inside of her. In the adjoining room, he waited for Emily. When she arrived, exactly one hour from when they had parted, he pulled her into the room by her shoulder and shut the door quietly. He had pushed the pommel against the wall, and had set up a simple padded table.
Emily did as she was told, quickly stripping.
“Please have a seat.” Conrad glanced over his shoulder at the woman. Emily’s physique was grotesque to him; she had big, heavy breasts with little pink nipples that stiffened in the sudden cold, making her breasts tighten and rise up, as if offering themselves out to whomever might be interested. Her waist was narrow, but her hips and buttocks were wide and full. If anything, he thought her legs were her best feature. She had long shapely legs, and small narrow feet. Her hair was pulled up tightly, and her cheeks were pink with embarrassment and fear.
“Lie back. I have a device I would like you to use on Rachel, but it requires some preparation.”
Trembling, Emily did as she was told, pushing herself back onto the table and lying down, with her legs together. Conrad pushed them apart firmly, and she didn’t dare to pull them back. He gently felt around her sex, swiping two fingers around her inner lips. She shivered, and stared at the ceiling. Satisfied, Conrad slicked his fingers with lubricant, and slid one gently into her tunnel. She gripped him tightly, on instinct, and Conrad slapped her sharply.
She took a deep breath and tried to lie as still as possible. Conrad felt inside her until he grasped the little balls he had asked her to wear, and pulled them out, replacing them inside the little wooden box. He then lifted a leather harness up, and attached a thick black rubber phallus to it, extending a full seven or eight inches. Emily was already shaking her head in fear, but he then turned it around, and attached a more slender, curved phallus to the other side. Emily watched with a mixture of fascination and terror.
Conrad slicked the smaller phallus with lubricant, and gently but firmly slit it inside of her. It was cold and hard in her hot tunnel, and she gripped it instinctively, feeling herself ache with need. Obscenely, the thicker phallus was now jiggling softly from her pelvis, as though she were a man. Emily’s stomach did somersaults as Conrad efficiently belted and locked her into the harness with a little key.
“Sit up slowly and carefully. Don’t hurt yourself.” Conrad held out an arm to help her, and Emily did as she was told. He helped her off of the table, and retrieved her corset.
“Put out your arms.”
He proceeded to lace her tightly into it, reaching around once to adjust her breasts so that they nearly overflowed. With every pull of the laces, the large phallus on her harness bounced. A long black cord extended from the harness to a box with switches and dials on it.
Emily waited as Conrad went into the adjoining room. Rachel was lying with her eyes closed, and breathing deeply. Conrad quietly and gently released her from it, sliding the eggs from her dripping sex. He freed her from her bondage, and gently lifted her into his arms. She was small, a delicate creature, with fine bone structure, small breasts, and large blue eyes. He carried her, sleeping soundly, into the adjoining room where Emily stood waiting, the thick black phallus swaying gamely from her pubis. He laid her upon the padded table and gently secured her arms and legs, pulling her thighs apart, and fastening her ankles to her thighs, so that they were bent at the knee. He adjusted the height of the table, and saw her eyes fluttering. He gestured frantically to Emily, and positioned her so that the phallus was at the entrance to Rachel’s vagina. The tip of it was absurdly large, and hit Rachel’s clitoris bluntly. Conrad swiftly lubricated it, and guided it in. Rachel’s eyes snapped open and she thrashed passionately, but Conrad pushed Emily’s hips hard, and saw the phallus sink deep inside Rachel, to the hilt.
Emily stopped, unsure of what to do, and Conrad held her hips and guided her, rocking back and forth so that she fucked Rachel with the dildo. Emily seemed in shock, but when Conrad let go, she kept moving at the same pace. Rachel was staring up at her drunkenly, unsure of what was happening. Conrad stepped over to the box attached to Emily’s harness, and paused to watch the women together. Emily’s buttocks was firm and shapely, and he saw with pleasure that she was standing on tiptoe to reach the table. Her delicate little feet were arched beautifully. Rachel’s feet arched with Emily’s every thrust.
Conrad flipped a switch and turned the first dial, watching eagerly. Emily jerked back, pulling out of Rachel, gasping, and Rachel squealed. The outward phallus was visibly vibrating. Emily thrust forward, with vigor, and Rachel arched against her, trying to pull her legs together, and around Emily. Conrad turned the dial up a notch, and he saw Emily’s leg shake, as she too felt the vibrations deep inside of her. The insides of her thighs were slick, reflecting the light. She increased her tempo, with every thrust, the dildo inside of her pushed deep into her. Conrad turned the dial up three notches, and adjusted the second dial, the pulse setting. Both women moaned wordlessly, and he could see them thrusting against one another. Emily was reduced to leaning over Rachel and humping against her, like a dog. As each climaxed, sometimes together, sometimes alone, they uttered animal-like howls and whimpers. He turned both dials up, as far as he dared, and Emily collapsed on top of Rachel, kissing and sucking her small breasts, frantically. The tools vibrated powerfully inside both of them, and their hips continued to rock together in manic bursts. Quickly, Conrad shut off the machine, and pulled Emily roughly off of Rachel.
“Go into the other room and wait there,” he barked, furious. Legs shaking, she went as fast as she could, almost tipping over into a wall. With the door shut, Conrad unbuttoned his trousers, and once again, slid deep inside of Rachel. Her ravaged tunnel was hot and throbbing, and tremors of vibration still ran through her entire body. His erection was painful, it was so hot and thick, pulsing with need. He thrust wildly into her, without care or consideration, and let out a yell as his testicles tightened and released his seed deep inside of her. Rachel lay gasping for breath, sweat dripping over her breasts and belly.
Conrad panted, unaware of what he had just done. Then leaned down and began to kiss and suck madly at Rachel’s sex, sliding his tongue deep inside of her, tasting himself and scooping out his seed with the tip of his tongue. Rachel’s thighs shook and the buckles that restrained her rattled. She moaned hoarsely, her fists clenching and gripping ineffectively.
From the other room, Emily knelt, staring through the keyhole at Conrad’s treatment. Conrad stood up and walked away, leaving Rachel alone, trembling. He returned with a small, oval shaped bowl. It had a black rubbed seal around its edge, and a tube at its center, which Conrad attached to a hand held pump with a gauge. He placed this firmly over Rachel’s quivering sex, and began to pump. He focused on gently pumping and watching the gauge. Emily could see Rachel’s sex enlarging grotesquely, pink and slick. After a moment, white liquid gushed from her, and Conrad kept pumping. Her sex kept filling the bowl, more white seed pushing out of her and into the device. Rachel whimpered, too exhausted to care at what happened to her. When it seemed no more semen would come out, and Rachel’s sex was pushed against the sides of the bowl, Conrad released the suction, breaking the seal and removing the bowl. Rachel’s genitals remained obscenely engorged, however, and Conrad leaned down, flicking a tongue over her lips and clitoris, making Rachel shudder and squirm.
Emily stared, feeling her own sex throb and lubricate, the slim phallus inside of her not sufficient to meet her needs, not without the vibration. She fumbled at the harness, trying to undo the belt, but looked down and remembered, to her dismay, that she was locked into it. She gripped the large black phallus protruding from her, and pushed it hard against her sex, causing the slightest of thrusts inside of her. Frantically, she did this as she watched Conrad and Rachel through the keyhole.
I arrived early and stood reading the notice on the green door. “Please ring the bell and enter the waiting area.” Taking a deep breath, I rang the bell and with my heels sounding loud in the hall, went through to the waiting area.
I had been waiting for this appointment for a while but it is not easy to get to see a specialist. The questionnaire I had to fill in online, before seeing the doctor, was very long. Some of the questions seemed a bit intrusive to me but I answered as many as I could. I knew I left a few gaps in it but hoped that I would be able to explain why.
The waiting room was warm so I shrugged off my jacket and taking a seat, looked around. It wasn’t as clinical as my own doctors’ room, there were paintings on the walls and the magazines were recent.
I checked my watch, 10 minutes until my appointment was due, and I hoped he doesn’t mind me being early. I sat on the edge of my chair; eyes closed trying to relax. . . .
The sound of the consulting room door opening brought me quickly back to reality; I looked up, into the bluest eyes I had ever seen. . .
“Mrs Jones,” he said with a voice that sent a tingle down my spine, “please come through.”
The consulting room layout was much the same as any other, a desk, computer and the examination couch. My eyes were drawn to the couch and he followed my gaze with a smile on his face, “Let’s get you seated and go through your notes shall we?”
I seated myself on the chair he indicated and took a deep breath. “Yes Doctor, thank you.”
He turned to the screen, bringing up the questionnaire I had filled in. “I see you have had quite a few partners, has this number changed since you sent this back?”
I looked at the floor in shame, “Yes, it has Doctor; I met someone new last week.”
“And I can see you have listed a few things on here that you think may help with your treatment, would you like to go over them now or discuss them with the practice nurse at a later date?”
“Later, please!” I managed to blurt out.
“Ok, Mrs Jones, no need to be worried about it. Can you tell me what drove you to finally come and see me?”
It was something I found hard to put into words, the longing, a need to get things sorted, to find out once and for all if . . .
“Sorry Doctor, I just can’t explain it very well.”
“Never mind, let’s start by checking your weight & height.” Slipping off my shoes, I stepped onto the scales and stood under the height marker in my stockinged feet.
“Well that all seems normal enough. Now your blood pressure, if you wouldn’t mind removing your top?” With trembling hands, I undid my blouse and offered my left arm. I felt the usual squeeze of the cuff as he placed the stethoscope in the crook of my arm. He said nothing to me as he noted down the reading.
“I had better listen to your heart now, if you could remove your bra please.” I slid the straps off my shoulders, undoing my bra, revealing my breasts to him. The stethoscope felt cold against my skin, a contrast to the warmth of his hands.
“If you could lift your arms, so I can check your breasts.” I tried not to meet his eyes as his hands gently palpated my breasts, moving in circles. His fingers brushed over my now erect nipples. I felt sure he could tell, by the change in my breathing, how aroused I was. He turned again to write up his notes.
“Ok, all seems normal there, would you please stand up, remove your skirt, then turn so you are facing away from me. I would like to check out your spine.” His hands started with my neck feeling his way down until he stopped, just above my buttocks, leaving me with a shiver that ran down the length of my back.
“Now if you wouldn’t mind removing your stockings and panties, then hopping up onto the examination couch for me, we can continue with your medical.” I tried to stay calm as I did as he asked, hoping he hadn’t noticed the damp patch in my discarded underwear. Soon I was lying back on the couch totally naked.
“Let’s check out those reflexes.” Bending my knees, he gently tapped each one with a little hammer. “Reflexes normal,” he murmured, “now are you sure you’re ready for the rest of your exam?”
How could I say no, he was already reaching for the stirrups, inserting them in the sides of the table. Lifting my legs into them, he dropped the table end, leaving me with legs wide open, my pussy totally exposed.
“Please relax Mrs Jones, nearly there.” I heard the scrape of his chair as he moved it closer; I felt his breath, hot on me as his fingers ran down my now wet labia, gently opening me. “Well your external genitalia looks normal but I need to look internally.” He went to the cabinet and bought out a speculum, covering it with lube. Positioning it in front of my wet lips, he deftly twisted it as he inserted it, sliding it inside me. I felt it, spreading me wide, filling me, and exposing more of me to him. I moaned and tried not to wriggle on the couch.
“Ah, I can see you have an IUD fitted, it looks fine to me, no problems there then.” The speculum was withdrawn, leaving me with an empty feeling.
“Now if I can just check out one more thing . . .” His hand reached up to my abdomen as he inserted two fingers in me. I could hardly contain myself; it felt so good.
“No signs of any swelling or abnormality there.”
I heard no more for he had lowered his head, his mouth buried into my waiting flesh, tongue darting over my clitoris. I groaned as a hand reached up to pinch my nipples. His fingers within me found my G spot, pressing urgently against it.
He lifted his head and murmured, “There’s one more place I’ve not examined yet!” He moved his hand away from my nipples and began to insert a finger into my anus; a second one, making me gasp in pleasure, quickly joined it. He kept on tonguing me, sucking and nibbling at my clitoris. His fingers thrust into me wildly, my very being felt alive, every nerve twitching at his touch. I found my body tensing as I gave myself to the most explosive orgasm I had ever had. He kept it rolling like waves over me, repeatedly.
Afterwards I lay there drained with a big smile on my face but he hadn’t finished with me yet. As he started to undress, I could see the hardness of his erection, straining at the fabric of his pants.
Gently he lifted my legs out of the stirrups, holding them up, he positioned himself and with one big thrust, he entered me fully. I could feel the heat from his balls as they brushed against my arse cheeks. Leaning forward to kiss me, he whispered, “Are you enjoying your medical?”
I couldn’t speak as he began to thrust into me with long slow practiced strokes. His cock throbbed as he drove it in harder, hands holding onto my hips. I felt my clitoris come alive again and heard him groan as he came deep inside me. I came as well, not as powerfully as before but it was just as enjoyable. We lay locked together until I felt him slide out of me.
After a while, we both dressed and sat down next to the desk. “Seems to me like you are in perfect health,” he chuckled with a smile on his face, “no problems at all in reaching orgasm. Now would you like to make a follow up appointment?
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