Trust Me I'm a Doctor

I see the nice young man standing in the queue at the pharmacy as I carry the box of medical supplies from the store room to my car at the front of the building. He has come to my attention because of the slight altercation he seems to be having with the young lady behind the counter.

He has rolled up his sleeve to show her something and she has insisted on calling over the lady pharmacist, a tall, severe-looking woman in large unfashionable glasses, for her professional opinion. It also hasn't escaped my notice that he is a very good-looking and pleasant young man. It's something that comes naturally to me. I have an eye for pleasant, good-looking young men, and I admire the way he is making his point about not being able to afford to consult a doctor at this point in time, and the fact that he has no medical insurance.

He is honest and has dignity. All he wants is an ointment and some care advice on the injury to his arm, and he will be on his way. Although, I have to admit, from what I can see, the injury looks unhealthy. In fact, despite his protestations, the pharmacist is quite correct in her evaluation of his need for a tetanus booster. I can see that quite plainly, even at the distance from which I have been quietly observing. But then, you see, it is what I'm paid to do. It's my profession; I am a doctor, after all, and he will soon become my ever-so-willing patient.

I offer to take him to my surgery in my car so that he can be given a tetanus shot. At first he looks doubtful, stressing his inability to pay. I tell him that I am willing to give him a complimentary jab and offer a reassuring smile. I can see that I've hit home as for a moment he is taken aback. Then, turning back to the young lady behind the counter he thanks her and bids her good-day. It is at this point that I know I have made an essential connection with him.

My imagination starts to work its magic...

In my mind's eye, I see him standing before me, completely naked, his blond hair flopping over one eye. He is embarrassed by his lack of attire, but blushing makes him look hugely attractive. Another thing that makes him look hugely attractive is his bobbing, semi-erect penis, displaying its expectancy of good things to come. He fidgets nervously, half-hiding it, worrying that it will become fully-erect and betray him completely.

I've seen it before in young men who've stood before me. I've had quite an effect on some of them in the past and I seem to be having a similar effect on this one too. I sense there is something special about him. He has a need, a very particular need. And now that he is fully erect I can see the confirmation of that need. His physical response to my presence speaks so eloquently of his inner feelings and desires.

My mind returns to the present moment...

We get to the car. I put the package on the back seat, get in and open the passenger door for him. He looks apprehensive, but tells me how much he appreciates my kindness. What he doesn't know is how much I'm going to make him appreciate my kindness; for I intend to extract payment in kind. For the matter of a simple injection, costing no more than a few dollars in real terms, I will have at my disposal his beautiful body and I intend to get much more than my money's worth. After all, I will be giving him the benefit of my vast specialised knowledge and experience. That is something that cannot be bought. I have a nice feeling about this handsome young man and I know I'm going to enjoy amusing myself with him.

And what about him..?

Well, it's what he makes it really. You see, I can't guarantee his pleasure, only my own. I wish I could. But I really hope he can draw something from our meeting today. A lot of young men actually return to my surgery for even more 'special' treatment. I can only assume that there are certain individuals who actually acquire a taste for the particular kind of medicine I like to prescribe. It's quite surprising how one can get hooked on being humiliated and belittled. I enjoy participating in these games; yet at the same time confess puzzlement as to their appeal in a recipient.

But I truly do hope he'll be able to attend more surgery in the future. I'm sure we'll be able to establish that special 'tender' relationship in time. He looks such a nice boy, so clean and wholesome, and best of all, so innocent, and it's always such a delicious pleasure corrupting pure innocence.

We pull away from the curb into rush-hour traffic, but my surgery isn't far away, a couple of blocks, so we'll be there in ten minutes. I take the opportunity of admiring his long legs, tightly clad in denim jeans. He is slim, a lovely figure of a young man, if I may be so bold. I allow my eyes to alight briefly on his crotch. I like what I see. His masculinity bulges with promise and in my excitement I almost run a red light. He gives me a reproving glare. Alas! That will go on the debit side of things when I tot up the bill. I'm afraid I will have to add an extra charge for that, you insolent pup! But he needn't worry too much; his body abounds with riches from which I can extract adequate payment.

We arrive at my surgery, a private wing of what was once an old military hospital, now mainly converted into shiny new apartments. I get him to carry my package for me. It's a small chore, but a significant one. I need him to do things for me and deep down, I know he's very happy to oblige. We go inside...

I ask him politely, but firmly to put the package on my desk and sit down. I get him to roll up the sleeve of his right arm so I can inspect the wound, and also so I can take his blood pressure. A closer inspection of the abrasion on his forearm reveals signs of secondary infection; a line of what looks like red lipstick has started creeping up his arm. In fact he is going to need some antibiotics as well as the tetanus shot. I check his blood pressure, slightly high, but I can put that down to what is known as 'white-coat-anxiety' brought about by his immediate situation, location and accompanying atmosphere. I make allowances for that, as I do for the accelerated pulse reading.

Nothing to worry about. In fact, it's about what I would expect from anyone in my presence, and I always find it a most encouraging sign that I am able to stimulate a person's bodily reactions so readily.

I hand him some antibiotic tablets for him to take later and then give him a couple of injections -- the tetanus, and also something else. In a short while the second injection will have a rather strange affect on the young man. He will begin to feel rather carefree, like one does after their pre-med shot before they're taken down to the operating theatre. This injection will have the additional power to induce a feeling of subservience in him. I don't plan to expel too much energy in getting him to play my games. I'm a bit past all that running around, huffing and puffing.

I keep him seated for a while longer while I question him about things such as masturbation and intercourse - quite irrelevant and unnecessary of course. But I can see the intrusive nature of the questioning has had the desired effect. He radiates a warm, lustful glow, and I bet his cock is responding in a positive manner too.

In fact I reach out and feel him, quite blatantly. He doesn't flinch. The gleam in his eyes tells me I'm on the right track. I squeeze his cock which is firming up nicely inside his jeans and then roll his balls a little. I am encouraged by the response. He widens his legs and invites further scrutiny. Thank you, young man - I accept the invitation.

I show him through to the examination room next door. Already he is showing signs of coming under the influence of the special substance I have injected into his bloodstream. He is more demonstrative, enquiring and confident. He walks over to the couch where I conduct internal examinations. I watch as he fingers the stirrups that have secured some very nice young ladies in the past, as well as men, and all those concerned have eventually revealed their innermost secrets to me.

Seeing him fingering the cold, bright stainless-steel attachments actually gives me an idea I hadn't previously considered. How nice at some point during the proceedings to get him nicely spread and secured. His wrists will be tethered also, so that I can amuse myself without any encumbrance from him.

He may or may not realise the intense erotic feeling that can be induced simply by inserting into the penis a long, slender object such as a 'urethral sound'. This is a procedure that in some people will stimulate an incredibly intense orgasm. Because he is to be immobilised, he will experience a delicious feeling of helplessness, violation and intrusion as he witnesses his self being slowly and steadily penetrated to the hilt, by a stainless steel implement propelled by nothing more than its own weight. It really is quite a fascinating spectacle how something almost twice the length of the organ into which it is inserted will virtually disappear inside it and without a hint of fuss. Maybe I will use the technique on him later -- that is, if I think he deserves to cum at all.

We'll just have to see what transpires. Whatever happens, I'm going to make sure that he at least satisfies my desires, if not his own.

I show him through to another room at the end of the corridor and switch on the light from outside. A powerful circular ceiling lamp blinks into life, revealing a highly sanitised chamber with large sparkling white tiling and chrome fittings, a washbasin, a shower and a flushable toilet. It is all spotlessly clean.

I tell him that he will require an enema because I need to give him an internal examination. He has no reason to question this, but if he did I would simply tell him it is normal procedure and that would be an end to it. He is in no position to argue coherently and logically about what is or what isn't to be done to him. The drug I have administered has by now completely, albeit only temporarily, inhibited his power of reasoning. In fact, at this very moment I would think he's experiencing an unprecedented level of well-being. They say ignorance is bliss, don't they?

I ask him to strip which he begins to do without protest or hesitation. Meanwhile, I get ready the necessary things for his enema, ensuring thorough sterilisation of all necessary equipment.

I wheel the trolley of apparatus over to him and order him to go down on all fours and present his rear to me. I tell him to part his ass cheeks using his hands to display himself to me for my pleasure. To do this to my satisfaction, he has to maintain his balance by resting his head on the hard-tiled floor. He complies with my request. What a delightful servant he is turning out to be for his master, so pleasant and willing.

My cock does a lovely flippety-flip at the delicious sight that greets me -- a chocolate brown, pulsating rosette of elasticised flesh. I goad him, encouraging him to open himself even wider so that I can inspect him thoroughly. He hesitates for a second and I need no further invitation to give him a sharp, corrective slap on the lower right buttock. The sudden report of sinew on flesh echoes against the hard tiles of the chamber. I do so like the sound of a stinging, well-aimed smack that has found its mark. He obliges immediately showing fully the palpitating entrance to his glory hole. I am tempted to tongue him right there and then, but I have to suppress my lust for we have much work to do. I notice that his face has reddened quite dramatically as a result of my corrective gesture, as has the skin of his right buttock which is now sporting an attractive pink slap mark about the size of my palm.

I imagine how wonderful it would be to give him a thoroughly good over-the-knee spanking and immediately start planning in my mind how I might best bring this about. In fact the answer is right in front of me. It will be an easy matter to set him up for a misdemeanour for which I can punish him. I will set him the virtually impossible task of holding the warm water inside his bowels for two minutes. This is extremely difficult for anyone except those with the most extraordinary level of bowel control. With this in mind I fully expect him to expel within the first minute.

But before I insert the tube I pull on a white rubber glove, lubed liberally with KY, and set about examining his rectum. He is nice and tight at the sphincter (a good sign) but nonetheless I soon have him breached with one, two, and then three fingers inserted into his backside. Now I'm able to manipulate, stretch and relax his anal muscle satisfactorily. I hear him sigh as the tension gradually leaves his body.

I remove my fingers and proceed to insert the lubricated tube into his rectum. When I'm satisfied it lies in the right position I begin filling his bottom with the warm, soapy solution, all the while talking to him, encouraging him to keep it inside himself for as long as possible.

"I want you to keep the water inside you for two minutes. I will time you. If you fail to do this to my satisfaction, I am going to spank you severely. Do I make myself clear?"

He answers yes and I switch off the pump and remove the tube. I tell him to get up now and go and sit on the toilet, setting the second hand of my watch to zero.

Already the first dribbles of water are running from him as he struggles to maintain bowel control. I smile to myself and look forward to the lovely bottom warming I will now surely be able to give him.

It's quite incredible. I almost lose out. I have under-estimated him. In fact he excels himself, making it to one minute, forty-three seconds before he allows the dam to burst and in what appears to be one tremendous gush.

"I'm sorry."

"Clean and dry yourself."

"I tried so hard - I really did!"

Despite my unsympathetic attitude to his failed effort at complete retention, I am secretly proud of him. It was a supreme effort and I thoroughly enjoyed his facial expressions as he battled against all the odds. He has pleased me greatly, but I am still going to keep my side of the bargain.

After he has dried himself I take hold of his erect penis and lead him to yet another chamber where a simple, hardwood chair occupies the centre of the room. I sit down, open my fly and order him over my knee. He does this willingly. He is moderately heavy, a well proportioned young man. But I am much stronger than he, in body and in mind. Seeing his hair and arms hanging limply towards the floor gives me a powerful erection which I know delights him too because he wriggles and squirms in appreciation. He simply does not have the willpower to resist me or his situation, and his helplessness and the subservient way he gives himself up to me contributes greatly to my pleasure.

I begin the spanking. Light, quick smacks that warm rather than sting to begin with. I have to be careful not to afford him too much pleasure, because it is possible for a person to have an orgasm from spanking alone. I have succeeded in bringing this about many times before for the benefit of those who have served me well. But I must remember that right now this is a punishment, not a reward and so I begin to increase the tempo and weight of the slaps.

His cock squirms deliciously against my own and I feel we are in danger of soiling each other, of having our orgasms far too soon, for the harder I hit him the more he seems to like it and I am obliged to play safe and bring the episode to a premature close. What a pity. But the sight of his reddened, almost scarlet ass excites me so. I cannot hold out much longer.

I order him to go back to the original examination room, following closely behind you, enjoying his undulating buttocks moving deliciously in front of me. Even though I say it myself -- I have made a pretty good job of the spanking. There appears to be hardly any area of skin that has escaped my onslaught.

I had planned to scrutinise his anus further, and then exposing him to other indignities and humiliations for my private pleasure - such as the urethral sounding. But I am too hot with lust and I would so like to experience fucking his bottom while it is in its burning state. It's such a delightful sensation, having one's cock buried deep in the mire of fiery flesh of a recently spanked male bottom.

We enter the original examination room and I tell him to climb onto the couch and present his bottom to me yet again while I take my clothes off. For the first time he is able to see my cock in all its eight and one-half inches of erect glory - an impressive sight to the averagely endowed man. I can tell by the light in his eyes that he follows in this tradition.

I lube myself and climb up behind him. Then I lube him, his asshole, his cock and balls. I take the opportunity of rolling and squeezing his balls, just enough to give him some pain, to remind him who's in control. Not too much, it's so important to keep pain at an enjoyable level during sex. The head of my cock is already slick with pre-cum and I take the opportunity of getting some on my forefinger and tasting it. It really is amazing how sweet it is in comparison to the bitterness of full ejaculate and I must confess a weakness for it...

I finger his asshole rudely, feel its expectant tackiness, its tough, yet yielding, elastic ring, just crying out to be stretched and violated. I order him to look in the full-length mirror which is situated rather conveniently at the head of the couch. I want him to see every nuance of changing expression as he experiences the various highs (and lows) of having his ass fucked by a real cock for the very first time. It's pretty obvious to me that he is prime virgin butt; his ring is so deliciously tight and intact. How nice that I shall be the first to take that virginity from him.

I smooth and square his hips, lining him up for my intended assault. I look over his shoulder and see his bright red prick, bob and twitch momentarily in the mirror as I press and rub myself against his body, making him aware of my own sex. Then I go down and put my face up against his ass and starting tonguing his hole. He squirms and moans as I penetrate him with the tip. He has a dank, musty taste - very horny. When I've slicked him up plenty I shuffle up close behind so that my cock is pressing stiffly against his ass cheeks.

Oh, what exultant joy to feel flesh on flesh, skin on skin, hot cock on nice warm virgin butt. I lean into him, running my hands up his back, massaging and manipulating him, feeling the little ridges of vertebrae move under my fingers as I work my way up the column of his spine, over his shoulder blades and up to his exquisite neck.

My hands drop to his shoulders which I begin to massage too, digging deep into the bull-like muscle. He moans quietly under the firm, insistent pressure. I lean forward and lick the salt-sweat that has gathered at the back of his neck, and where his hair lies in damp, matted rat tails, all the while gently sliding my cock up and down the slippery wet crack of his ass. I can smell the nervousness wafting from his armpits, a faint garlic odour, as apprehension sets in. It's a clear signal to relax him, try and relieve the mounting tension in his muscles. I go to work in earnest, feeling the tissue and sinew in his back soften under my fingertips. I wait behind him for the right moment to put it in, manoeuvring my cock ever closer to his virgin fuck-hole.

"Will it hurt?" he asks, timidly.

"No," I reassure him. "At first you might feel something. A slight prick maybe (I cannot help grinning at this), but the rest will be pure heaven. All you have to do is relax, let go, let it happen. It'll be fine, I promise you. I'm going to take you on the magic carpet ride." I kiss the side of his neck, bite him hard, suck his salty flesh into my mouth.