The Doctors visit, part 3

The doctors visit, part 3

Note: i did steal an idea from Mrs Opal for this story. See her work [here](https://old.reddit.com/r/TheHouseOfOpal/).

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With her hand still on my chest, she again adjusted the table I am laying on, but this time pays particular attention, moving me up and down a few times to align me to some
unperceived (as far as I could tell) height.

“Well Mr Smith (obviously not my real name), there are a few more tests I’d like to get through today” she says as she walks to the foot end of the bench.

While she moves, she replaces her right hand with her left, and drags it down my body, never losing contact with me as she speaks.

As she rounds the end of the bench, she asks me to “lift your feet up please”.

She never pulled the extention out so my feet have been hanging off the end for some time, and raising my feet up is a relief. Her hand traces around from my knee, to the back of my thigh and now with both hands on each leg, she helps push them up high enough, which for a brief moment is actually very comfortable.

High enough, meaning that I assume she is going to pull the extentension out and let my feet rest again as we move on to what ever test is next. I am mistaken.

She stands as close to the bench as she can, and with each of my calves nearly tossed over her shoulder, she wraps her arms around the base of my legs near my hips and pulls me confidentaly to the edge, my butt barely on the bench anymore, and the back of my legs now pressed firmly against the front of her body.

In a panic, I realize what the next test might be and ask “is this really necesarry? at my age?”

She is still standing there and as I look down between my legs to her, I see my bulge now betraying me in my shorts and notice my butthole is about where I imagine her belly button to be.

She doesn’t respond, but instead slides her hands down to the waste band of my shorts and easily pulls them up since there is barely any bench between my butt and the bench at this point.

“Mr Smith, who is the doctor?” she asks as she lifts my shorts up over my feet and tosses them onto my pile of clothes. My legs start to droop as she continues her tasks. The first time she has not been in direct contact with my body in some minutes.

“You are.”

“That is correct. And you will do as your doctor tells you, yes?” As she asks this she reaches down under the bench and pulls out an attached foot stool for her to stand on.

“Yes.”

Standing up on the stool, once again propping up my legs against her body, she asks “And you want to please your doctor, don’t you Mr Smith?”

Looking now up at her, standing between my legs, she looks powerful. In command. She is exactly where she planned to be: her small adorable frame towering over a man who is probably twice her size, laying (mostly) naked, volunerable to her power.

“yes..” and realize that while she stands on the platform she is now the perfect height, and I understand her attention to that earlier.

“Hold your legs back for me.” I hesitate but the look on her face tells me it would be foolish to disobey her.

I grab the back of my knees and pull my legs just far enough to take them off her body, and take a long deep breath.

She steps off the bench and shuffles about the cabinets, opening drawers and gather items onto the counter near my hip. I cannot see what there is, but my mind races and wonders what might happen, as I’ve never had this type of procedure before, and have only heard stories.

Sitting there like this, my legs pulled back, I can feel myself open up to her. There are times when I hear nothing in the room and wonder if she is taking her time, controlling the room and pace to her liking. I hope my obedience and calm please her.

She must sense my devotion and acceptance of her role, because she says that I’m “doing very good. It pleases me that you aren’t making a fuss. Some people resist me, and that does not make me happy in the least. Who is in charge here, Mr Smith?”

“You are.”

“That is correct” she says as she stands back onto the platform, allowing me to rest my legs against her briefly. She reaches over to the counter and pulls out a single rubber glove.

“Now, since this is what I assume is the first time for you” she starts as she fits the glove onto her right hand, “there are a few rules to this process.

The sensation can be a bit overwhelming for some men, but it is important that you relax for me.”

She grabs a bottle of “lube” from the counter and clicks it open with her left hand.

As she pours some out onto her gloved hand, she continues:

“it is also very important that you do not have an orgasm during this process. The stimulation of a mans prostate can be arousing, so it is important that you tell me if you are going to cum.”

At this point my mind is racing, along with my heart. I still can’t anticipate what this procedure will be like, how long it will last, or, how long I will last with what she just said. And the way she said “cum” was no where near a clinical description as her other discussions have been. Was this some kind of test? Should I cum?

“So, if I ask you “are you going to cum?” you are going to say “NO”. Is that clear? Not only must you not have an orgasm, each time I ask you, how will you respond?”

“No.”

“Very good. And this, by the way, is the only situation that I will permit you to say “No” to me.”

What does that mean? At this point my mind is in overload, I have given my body over to my doctor, and now I have instructions I need to pay attention to! There are several things in conflict internally, but looking at her I see several versions of her standing above me: a doctor, an instructor, and a kind, adorable face offering me an experience I have never had before.

My mind starts to calm, and I settle into (trying) to enjoy this experience. I might also see a new ‘lover’ standing there as well?

“Yes”, I answer with a smile, easily willing to please her.

“Very, very good. It pleases me when men can follow instructions.” As she says this, she leans a bit into my left leg supporting it against her, wrapping her left hand around to steady herself.

Her right hand, now slippery and wet, explores under by balls for its target. At first there is a cold sensation, but as she moves her fingers around, preparing me, they quickly warm.

“Relax, Mr Smith. Tell me: do you want to cum?”

Obviously the answer is no at this point, but a test of my resolve I think.

“No” I say confidently, and it’s true at this point.

Her left hand lands on my stomach, just above the end of my quickly growing erection, palm down.

Her finger finds its target, slathers some additional lube into it, then slowly pushes inside as she asks me again: “Do you want to cum?”

I let out a soft moan, and a less confident “no”.

“Good boy.”

The feeling is not at all like I imagined, or it could be that she is just very good.

There is no pain, only a slight discomfort, and a warming sensation that grows as she pushes in further. I can only imagine how far, or how many fingers, it might take to finish this process.

She explores and (I assume) searches for my prostate, and I can feel her palm and remaining fingers press, tickle and rub the outside of me as her finger moves inside me.

“Do you want to cum”?

“No.”

I don’t think she believes me. She could not be in a better position to judge, her right hand buried in my ass, her left now being hit with the top of my dick each time she pushed into me, and her view of me proves my answer to be incorrect.

“Do you want to cum?”

“No.” Yes I do.

She has since found my prostate and it is very true. The feeling of it being touched itself is indescribably, but the sensation is that I want to have an orgasm without cumming, as if my body wants to contract, but not yet shoot out a load.

“Mr Smith. Do you want to cum”?

“No.”

“Please stay still. I need to get a sense of its size.”

She slows down, and the thought of the technical exploration brings be down enough that I can once again breath, which I do very deeply.

“Good boy. Good boy.”

I get the feeling she has found what she needed to as she pulls away from me slightly and removes her left hand from my abdomen. Her right hand still explores me, but I can feel her sliding her finger out.

I calm myself, but I still have a powerful ereection.

She busy herself with something on the counter, I hear a small buzzing noise, and again feel her press into me.

“Now, Mr Smith: if I were to ask you if you wanted to cum, FOR ME, what would you say?”

I crane my head up quickly to look at her and see her again between my legs, but now in her gloved hand I see a small (what I’ll call a) vibrator, with a very large base on the fatter end. I say fatter, but this is a rather thin device.

“It is often used to stimilute the prostate during some more involved tests. It is not REQUIRED for you today”, which I take to mean she found nothing wrong with mine.

“Yes!” I say, though I was not expecting to see that in a doctors office, which is what prompted her explination.

“Very good. And remember the rules. Let’s proceed”, she says as she hides the small device from me by rubbing it around my now lubed asshole.

Her left hand, however, does not rest on my stomach but cups my scrottum and lifts my balls up out of her way as the tip of the vibrator follows the path her finger took not long ago.

Her left hand, still ungloved, is now also rather lubricated and once the device is slightly inside me, she lets this hand slide over my scrotum, up to my shaft and lubes me up entirely.

Her touch is overwhelming, but she reminds me of the rules: “Do you want to cum?”

“No.”

Again, I don’t think she believes me: “Do you want to cum”?, as she plunged the vibrator deeper.

“…..no…..”

“Be a good boy for me. Be a good boy and there will be a prize at the end”.

The vibrator now bottoms out inside of me, and thinking about it days after I imagine that is what the large ending is for, to prevent it from going in too deeply.

No longer needing to hold the device in, she positions herself fairly straight onto my body, and replaces her left hand with the right. Her left takes up position against my knee.

Her hips now motion against my body, plunging the device in, at the same time squeezing my balls against my body with hers. Her right hand vigorously starts to stroke me.

“Do you want to cum?”

“…no…”

“Look at me. Do you want to cum?”

I crane my head up again and stare into her eyes as she (basically) fucks me.

“No.” I do, I really do.

“Do you want to cum….for me?”

“Yes…please yes!?” My god I want to.

“Not yet. Say it again…do you want to cum?”

“NO!”

“Do you want to cum, for me?”

“YES!”

“Look at me. Do not take your eyes off of me. I am the reason you cum.”

I never stop looking at her face, hoping she sees the anguish in mine and gives me release.

“Now, we can’t have you ruining another gown, so you’ll need to cum into the jar”, which she finds on the counter and places on my stomach after tossing the gown out of the way.

“Do you want to cum for me?”

“YES. YES. Please. Please let me cum for you.”

“Oh? Is that what you want? To cum for me? Tell me. Earn it.”

“Yes, please. Please let me cum for you. I give my orgasm to you. It is yours. I will only cum for you. Does it please you? Would it please you if I came? Came into this little jar? I will give you my cum, please take it. Take my orgasm and let it please you!”

“What a good boy. Do you want to cum for me?”

“YES!”

“Promise to get it all in this jar. Promise, or you will clean up every drop, do you understand?”

I think I do, and hope my aim is good!

“Yes, Goddesa, please let me cum!”

“OK, cum in this jar like a good boy. Be a good little boy and put all your cum into this jar for…for Goddess”. I think she liked my use of “Goddess”, so she takes it for herself.

She constantly bumps the bottom of the vibrator with her body and her left hands positions the jar just above the tip of my cock, all while her right hand strokes and squeezes me from the base to the top, aiming me into the jar.

“Cum…cum for your Goddess…” she almost whispers as I cum.

Her right hand continuing to milk me and her body kept the device burried deep into my ass.

More and more shoots out of me as she encourages me. Her hand tights against my shaft, hoping to get every drop out as I hope it all hits the jar.

Still more, weaker and weaker with every spurt, but still she milks me. I wonder how full the jar has become.

As I finish, she matches my rhythm with her hand.

There is a thing in your brain that is often refered to by my favorite term: “the monkey mind”. It is an interesting thing our brains do, while one is busy occupying the forfront, something in the back of your mind starts jumping up and down screaming, demanding you pay attention to it.

As I was coming down from an amazing experience, imagening what it must like to be her, watching this all unfold from her perspective, another part of my mind suddenly starting demanding I pay attention to what it had to say.

She, while looking down on this man, having just given himself to her in every way, is heart, soul, even his asshole, and was now watching as the last drops of his orgasm dript into the jar, she had said that she “didn’t want to ruin another gown”.

How did she know about the first one? Who told her what happened last year with her nurse practitioner? Was this a setup of some kind?

As my mind and body were recovering from an intense orgasm, the likes of which I had never had before, it crossed with another part of my mind which was ramping up with all these new thoughts and questions, all of which must have manifested themself on my face as I looked between her adorable, powerful face and the jar I had nearly filled up.

“Good boy”, she said very authoritatively, as if meeting a quota.

Her look gave nothing away, but what had she been told? Why did this happen if she knew about my last visit? Was this some sort of contest?

My puzzled look gave me away, and as she collected herself, put the jar on the counter, and slowly started to pull the plug out of my ass, she notice my expression.

“I know everything that goes on in my office, Mr Smith. Everything”. She knew, and now she figured out what my expression must mean.

“Don’t worry. You did nothing wrong then, and nothing wrong now”…as the first part of the tool that entered me slides out.

“Your last examine resulted in an unexpected, though not unheard of, orgasm, and today I simply tested your prostate, took a semen sample to do a sperm count, and well…honestly, the nurse had told me how volumenous your orgasm was last year, and I needed to see for myself. To make sure, medically, everything was normal.”

Her explanation was both welcome, and brilliant, as this would cover her ass legally, and mine if I had to explain any of this.

So I calm my monkey mind a bit and continue slowly recovering as she busy herself with the jar and assorted items. Thankfully as she stepped down, she did finally pull the bench extention out so I could relax.

Looking over finally, she mentions I can hop down and start getting dressed. Her tone is soft and warm, not adorable, condescending or commanding.

So I do. I slide off the bench and start getting dressed.

“Everything is fine Mr Smith. I felt nothing wrong with your prostate, I’ll send out this…this very large volume of semen for a sperm count. Curiously, when was the last time you had an orgasm?”

I tell her about two weeks, and she is impressed, I think mostly from a medical perspective.

“Well. Everything is fine. You are fairly healthy and you should have nothing to worry about. If you stop by the lab downstairs I will order a blood test.”

By now I am mostly dressed, taking in what she is saying and trying to wrap my head around what has just happened.

“Do you have any questions for me?”, she asks in a very formal voice.

“I do not”, I reply.

“And do you have any questions for your Goddess?”, she asks in a not-so-formal voice.

Not knowing if I’m allowed to say “NO” in this situation, I simply say “Will you marry me?”

She declines, but we share a smile, she reaches out to me with both her hands in a very personal way, both of which I take in mine, softly and warm.

Nothing is said, but the moment is personal and welcome. This experience was both amazing and really unusual for me. I don’t think this happens for her all that much either and we enjoy each other for a moment longer.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ap0rp1/the_doctors_visit_part_3