Doctor's First Prostate Massage

Author's note:

This is my first story posted on this site, and I'm excited to share it with you! This has been a favorite fantasy of mine for a while. I am looking to improve as a writer, so I'd love to hear what you responded to or didn't. I am working on a longer series about different characters that I hope to post relatively soon.

A couple of disclaimers on this story:

-- Obviously this is a fictional fantasy created for fun, so the procedure described is not a real medical test. I have no medical expertise beyond what I have read online.

-- I am biologically female, so I don't have first-hand experiences with some of the sensations depicted, but I have done my best to use what I know to tell a relatively realistic story.

-- In real life, there should never be any sexual contact that is not 100% desired by all parties. No means no; yes means yes.

I hope you enjoy!

Tags include: #medical, #bisexual male, #prostate massage, #gay first time, #friends, #orgasm denial, #orgasm control, #tickling, #bondage, #dubcon

_______________

Dr. Blake Harrison waited restlessly in the exam room. Usually he was the one bustling in and out, asking about symptoms, giving patients instructions. Today, though, he was the patient, and the loss of control was unsettling. The longer he sat in this uncomfortable plastic chair in the white-on-white room, the more nervous he felt about the procedure he was about to undergo. With every set of footsteps past his door, his stomach fluttered.

He tried to remind himself that the doctor he was waiting for was his friend and coworker, Jeremy Patrick. The two of them had been recruited the same year, both straight out of their residencies, to this family clinic in a small rural town. Over the past three years, they had settled into comfortable routines: collaborating on cases, participating on non-profit governing boards, getting together with their wives for dinner. The two young, attractive pairs enjoyed power-couple status in this remote area. Their wives were close friends as well, and after they had children, they'd probably be running the same PTO meetings and co-coaching Little League teams.

That is, assuming Dr. Harrison was able to have children. He and his wife had been trying for a year now, with not even one pregnancy. His wife's exam results were all normal, but Dr. Harrison's fertility specialist had seen some abnormalities in his sperm sample and had suggested a different test for clearer results. Since the specialist was a four-hour drive away, in a metro far removed from this quiet area of the state, she had recommended obtaining the sample in his home clinic, to save a day's travel.

So here he was, waiting for Dr. Patrick to finish with his other patients. It had been a long day with a lot of last-minute additions to his schedule, and he was guessing his colleague had been just as busy. At this time of day, the last of the patients were being ushered out past the front desk, nurses were finishing their notes in computerized charts, and there was much less chance of them being interrupted. That was the main reason Dr. Harrison had asked for the final appointment slot of the day. While his last fertility procedure had been no more embarrassing than jerking off in a locked room by himself, today's would involve him in a much more compromising position. He squirmed and tried not to think about it.

After a sharp rap on the door, Dr. Patrick finally entered the room. He was of average height, not quite as tall as Dr. Harrison, and not quite as lean, though he carried the extra twenty pounds well. Dr. Patrick was as pale-skinned as they came, just like most of the Caucasian farming families who'd lived here for generations. In contrast, Dr. Harrison's features were slightly darker. He fit in well on his volunteer trips to the Middle East, often being mistaken for a native, although his family's heritage was European.

"Blake -- sorry that took so long. You still have some time?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with."

"Ok." Dr. Patrick took a seat on the rolling stool in front of the desk and faced Dr. Harrison, who jiggled one foot anxiously. "Your specialist explained this procedure?"

"A little...I don't have much background in fertility." Which was true, but left out the fact that he

had

read about the test online. Anal penetration wasn't something he was comfortable offering details about, not even with his friend. Not when it was about to happen to him.

"Ok," Dr. Patrick said again. "I've talked with her about what she needs, and basically what we're doing is obtaining a pure seminal fluid sample, with no sperm. That means ejaculate resulting from prostate stimulation alone, no penile stimulation. Your specialist will study the sample to determine if there are any problems with the delivery mechanism for fertilization. Does that make sense?"

Dr. Harrison nodded. Prostate stimulation without penile stimulation. In translation: receptive anal sex without being able to touch himself. He had only ever had female sex partners, but his wife had discovered that he liked being fingered, so he wasn't unused to the sensation. He had always hoped, however, that how he felt with something up his ass would remain private, between him and his wife. He couldn't believe he was about to have that experience here, in front of his colleague.

With

his colleague.

"And you've abstained from orgasm for the required three days?"

Fuck, that was not something he wanted to talk about either. Apparently it was part of getting a good sample -- making sure there was plenty of semen buildup. He and his wife enjoyed a healthy sex life, and like most men, on days he didn't have sex, he usually released his tension on his own. So yeah, he could feel a difference, not coming for the past three days.

Especially after yesterday, when his wife had worn that short little dress to a charity fundraising dinner. Just watching her shimmy into it, and helping her pull up the zipper to where it ended mid-back, fingers brushing all that bare skin... He'd gotten hard, and she'd kissed him, pleased that he still found her so desirable, pressing her hips up against him. By the end of the evening, watching the dress cling tenaciously to every curve, he hadn't been able to resist the temptation to work his cock in the shower. Except he hadn't wanted to ruin the fertility test, so he'd stopped short of satisfaction, leaving his cock aching and his balls tender.

He shifted, still feeling that unrelieved fullness, then snapped his thoughts back to the present and mumbled a "yes," while keeping his eyes diligently on the floor.

"Alright, let me gather my instruments, and we'll get started."

Dr. Harrison watched with increasing nervousness as Dr. Patrick got out something that looked like a slim plastic wand, curving into a thicker bulb shape at the end, anchored by an ergonomic handle, which he plugged into the wall. That would be the vibrating prostate stimulator. Dr. Harrison shivered, his asshole already twitching in anticipation. Next was a small plastic cup with a screw-top lid, like the one Dr. Harrison had shot his first sperm sample into, and a few wipes and towels. After that, alarmingly, was what looked like leather cuffs attached to tough canvas straps. Finally, worst of all, was a metal bar about two feet long with cuffs at each end. Dr. Harrison had never seen something like that in a medical office, but he had seen it in porn videos. A spreader bar. He swallowed hard.

Dr. Patrick turned to him. "Do you have any questions?"

"No." None that wouldn't make this worse if spoken out loud. Better to just do it and get out.

"If you do have questions at any point, please ask. I'm here to assist you." Dr. Patrick raised the exam table so that it was just below waist-level. "Go ahead and remove everything except your t-shirt. I'll step out for a moment."

When the door closed, Dr. Harrison toed off his sneakers, then pulled his scrub top over his head, leaving on the plain black v-neck t-shirt he always wore underneath. He pushed off his scrub bottoms and folded his clothes into a stack on the chair. Reluctantly, he slid down his trunks as well, sticking them between the folds of his pants. That was when he realized he had no other way to cover himself. His t-shirt was fitted and only reached his hips, leaving his cock, balls, and ass exposed to the room. Not that he was ashamed of his body; he was genetically blessed and kept in shape. He just preferred not to have anyone but his wife looking at him. Or touching him.

Another quick rap on the door, and Dr. Patrick was back. He was all business, acting as if it were perfectly ordinary for Dr. Harrison to be standing there mostly naked. It was one of the traits that made him a good doctor, and a main reason Dr. Harrison had asked his colleague to help with this.

"Step over here, Blake," Dr. Patrick directed. "Now, I'll need you to bend over and rest your elbows on the exam table, keeping your back flat."

This was it, the part Dr. Harrison had been dreading. He could feel the blush spreading across his face and down his neck as he turned his back and leaned over the padded table so his torso was parallel to the floor, exposing his naked ass completely.

"Good," Dr. Patrick encouraged. "And move your feet a bit outside shoulder-width."

God, this was the worst. Dr. Harrison slowly complied, spreading his legs apart and leaving his balls hanging vulnerably, touching nothing but air. This position, and knowing he was about to get fucked in it, was already doing something to his cock. It grew warmer, and larger, drawing attention to the one place he really didn't want it. Dr. Harrison stared at the paper-covered surface beneath him, trying to pretend he was anywhere else.

Dr. Patrick spoke from behind him. "Look, I know it's awkward. Just try to remember you're doing this for your family -- your wife, and the children you'll have together. It'll be over before you know it."

Dr. Harrison didn't respond. Maybe if he didn't say anything, he could disappear.

"I'll start with a finger and some lubricant. This may be a bit uncomfortable, but try to relax. Let me know if you need me to pause."

He heard Dr. Patterson snap on a glove. The sound of a plastic cap flipping open and gel squirting out was even louder. Then Dr. Patrick's finger was between his spread-wide ass cheeks, rubbing against his tight hole. Dr. Harrison tried not to gasp, but probably failed. It was shocking to feel a touch there, when he hadn't been touched anywhere else. The sudden intimacy of it intensified the sensation.

"I'm going to push inside now," Dr. Patrick informed him.

The fingertip breached him, brushing against all those nerve endings around his ring, lighting sparks in his cock. He tried to relax, but it wasn't easy in this clinical space, with all the lights on and his ass in the air. Not at all like when his wife touched him, in the safety of their dark bedroom. Usually toward the end of sex, when he was too far gone to care where she was putting her fingers.

The doctor's finger pushed in a little further, pulling back out periodically to add more lube and help loosen his tense muscles. It was excruciatingly embarrassing to have his ass probed by his male doctor friend, yet he knew worse was coming, so he clenched his hands around the far edge of the exam table and let it happen. He swallowed a moan as a second finger entered, stretching and rubbing. It was so wrong that this felt good, and so unfair that he couldn't hide it. His cock by now was jutting straight out against his stomach, totally oblivious to the fact that this procedure was clinical, not recreational.

He heard Dr. Patterson drop the glove into the trash.

"Alright, I'm going to insert the prostate stimulator now. Most men find this pleasurable, so it's nothing to be ashamed of. Remember that we need to get a clean sample, so you cannot touch your penis at any time during this procedure. Do you understand?"

Dr. Patrick waited until he nodded. He wasn't sure which was more mortifying: the thought that he'd want to touch his cock in front of another man, or that he wouldn't be allowed to.

The bulb on the anal wand was wider than the fingers had been, so it took some pushing to get it inside him, but eventually it was seated completely inside.

"I'm turning on the wand. I'll start on low, and we can adjust as needed."

The buzzing that started inside his ass was such an unfamiliar sensation that it confused his nervous system at first. It didn't necessarily feel good or bad, just new. After a moment, Dr. Patrick shifted the wand inside him, pressing a little deeper, probing toward the front of his body. Suddenly, the vibrating bulb nudged a spot that sent ripples of pleasure through his core. An eager yelp burst out of Dr. Harrison's throat before he could stop it.

"Looks like we found your prostate," Dr. Patrick commented, holding the wand steady over the spot that had made him cry out.

Damn, that was like nothing he had ever imagined. Whereas fingers could only brush the outside of the prostate, the vibration lit up his entire pleasure center in the loveliest way. If he'd known he could feel like this, he would have purchased an anal wand himself long ago. It was so good that he almost forgot another man was on the other end of that wand. His professional colleague. Not a lover. He clenched his jaw in an effort to avoid making any more embarrassing sounds.

The only problem was, his prostate was directly wired to his cock, and the vibrations were making his shaft thick with desire, achy from lack of contact. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if he'd been able to jerk off this morning, or yesterday. But as it was, the magic wand inside him was rapidly taking him from a little horny to desperately needy. He knew he wasn't supposed to touch his cock, but he was starting to forget why. Some attention there would feel amazing combined with the buzzing against his prostate. Almost of its own accord, one of his hands released its grip on the edge of the exam table and reached for his burning erection.

"Blake, you can't do that." Dr. Patrick grabbed his arm before he could reach his target, returning it to position beneath him.

"Sorry," he said, but it came out more like a whimper. "How...how long...?"

He left the question unfinished, not trusting his voice. If he had to endure this awful need without relief, at least he didn't want Dr. Patrick to know how badly the wand was teasing him. Although the acceleration in his breathing and the sweat beading all over his skin, was probably giving it away anyway. He tried to focus on Dr. Patrick's response.

"Since this kind of stimulation produces only a small amount of ejaculate, I need to make sure enough accumulates for the specialist to get an accurate diagnosis. It's usually around fifteen minutes. If you start to feel like you're going to climax, make sure to tell me, so that I can pace the stimulation accordingly."

Fifteen minutes of this? Some part of Dr. Harrison's brain knew fifteen minutes wasn't that long, but as Dr. Patrick moved the vibrator gently up and down, massaging his prostate in an ungodly skillful way, the yearning in his cock and balls kept building until it was unbearable not to be jerking off. He panted, dropping his head to the table. He tightened all his muscles, trying not to writhe on the slender instrument impaling him, the source of the sinfully sweet buzzing that was quickly becoming the center of his universe.

"Please!" He cried out about fifteen seconds later, absolutely mortified at his inability to handle a little anal stimulation without turning into a helpless slut. "I can't...I need..."

"If the urge to touch your penis is too much for you to control, I can restrain you so that you won't interrupt the procedure," Dr. Patrick offered. "Would that help?"

Restrain? That must be what the cuffs were for. He was having a hard time putting thoughts together, but he was sure he'd never make it through fifteen minutes of this on his own.

"If I have to do this, then yes."

"You always have the option not to continue with the test. Your specialist needs this information to determine whether there's anything she can do to help you and Amber conceive, but if it's too much for you --"

"No, I want to do it," Dr. Harrison forced out through rapid breaths. There was no point in putting this off. He would never convince his wife that a little unsatisfied desire was a good reason to miss out on potentially valuable information about their ability to have children.

"Ok, I'm going to pause so I can attach the restraints."

Mercifully, the wand was removed while Dr. Patrick fastened the cuffs onto his wrists and attached the straps to the exam table. When it was done, he pulled experimentally against the tight bands, which were padded on the inside, but still chafed a little against his skin. While he had some freedom of movement, he couldn't pull his hands any closer to his cock than they currently were, or close enough together to undo the buckles. The exam table was bolted quite securely to the floor, so he'd be stuck here literally forever if the doctor decided not to release him.

He'd never been restrained before, not particularly being into kinky sex, and he found it...hot. Fuck. That was the last thing he needed -- more fuel for the fire already smoldering in his core.

The head of the wand was back at his asshole, stretching him out again as it pushed slowly inside. The knowledge that he could not physically stop Dr. Patrick from doing whatever he wanted back there made his cock even harder, which shouldn't have been possible. Not being able to see him enhanced the sensations further. He held his breath in excruciating anticipation of the moment when the vibrations would start again.

And there it was. Buzzing all over his happy place. And the corresponding pulsing in his disloyal cock. This stupid wand was taking him apart from the inside, turning him into a frantic mess of raw nerves in front of his friend. Nothing so small should wield this kind of power over a man.

"Are you doing ok?" Dr. Patrick asked him some time later. All lengths of time seemed eternal in his present state.

Dr. Harrison unlocked his jaw and tried to answer in something approaching a normal tone of voice.

"Yes." If by ok you meant five seconds away from spontaneous combustion. His body was so hot, as if he were running a fever, and he could feel the wetness of sweat at his armpits and down his chest.

"Do you feel a climax approaching?"

"Um, I'm not sure..."

While the sensation was certainly intense, and it made him

want

to orgasm more than anything in the world, he hadn't felt any of the usual buildup. But he also had never received sexual pleasure that didn't involve his cock, so he wasn't sure what to expect.

"I'm going to turn the wand up to make sure you get there."

Dr. Harrison wanted to protest, but what could he do? Getting him to climax without touching his cock was the whole point of this procedure. Which was all the time seeming less like a procedure and more like an excuse for erotic torture. Especially once the vibrations intensified.

Pre-come was now steadily dripping from his neglected cock onto the tiled floor of the exam room. Now that his hands were no longer available, increasingly inappropriate fantasies kept materializing in his thoughts: Dr. Patrick wrapping his free hand around his cock, stroking him, just on the right edge of too slow, then faster and faster, building to that mind-shattering moment of orgasmic bliss... Or, even better, he could turn over, lay on his back on the table, the wand buzzing away inside, while the other doctor sank his mouth over Dr. Harrison's throbbing cock, licking and sucking away the ache until he exploded.