Jardonn's Erotic Tales.com



Jasper McCutcheon

Part 1 - What's so Funny?

I should have known the potential for disaster was there. Why wouldn't my long-time family doctor have told me that he wouldn't be in his office the day of my appointment? Certainly our relationship was such that he could have rescheduled with no argument from me. After all, it was just my annual physical, nothing I hadn't been through before. Strange, too, that the regular receptionist was not at her desk, having supposedly left early for her own dental appointment. This was told to me by a woman named Linda Carlson, who was the nurse assigned to one Dr. Helen Bracket, the substitute physician that Dr. Paige arranged to handle his afternoon appointments. Apparently, I was the last, because there were no other patients in the waiting area.

My apprehension was usurped by my desire to get this drudgery over with, so I followed nurse Carlson back to one of the examination rooms.

"Mr. Kelso," she cheerfully instructed. "Please undress and put on this gown. I'll be back in a few minutes to draw your blood."

Done and done. With my clothes neatly hung on hooks and folded in chair, I stood and waited for Nurse Linda, who told me to address her as such and sit in another chair beside the blood-draw station. She took my blood pressure reading and stuck a thermometer in my mouth. After extracting four tubes worth of blood from my right arm, she prepared my left arm for the influenza vaccination.

"But Nurse Linda, normally, the doctor gives me my vaccinations. Where is Dr. Bracket?"

"Never you mind, sweetie. Dr. Bracket and I have a more efficient routine." Her smile was so charming and so soothing, I immediately felt at ease in her presence. She continued to calm me. "You can call her Dr. Helen. She has full confidence in me to get you through the routine procedures. I will have the trivial aspects of your visit completed, then she will be able to give you her intense regiment of inspections with no need to perform such trifles."

Logical, professional, and handsomely feminine in her bright, white nursing attire, Linda Carlson was a breath of fresh air, bringing a newfound enjoyment to what I had been dreading -- another taxing, uncomfortable and boring physical examination. How did she do it? How did she fill me with such bliss? Such a seemingly natural and care-free attitude?

My next memory is that I was floating on a cloud and everything was, well, comical. I thought it amusing that I was laying flat, face-up on a cold, metal table. I nearly broke into laughter when I saw Nurse Linda standing above me, looking down from the end of the table while holding my hands past my head. Her little nurse's cap reminded me of a Mickey Mouse Club cap, except that it was white and had a small red cross stitched on its front. I could not contain my chuckling when I saw who I assumed to be Dr. Helen standing at the foot of the table, a sterile and cold-looking stethoscope hanging from her neck. It was nestled between her humongous boobies, the top quarters of which were exposed from a very low-cut medical smock.

I watched with glee as Dr. Helen picked up a pair of scissor and proceeded to cut away my silly gown; guffawed hysterically when Nurse Linda clamped handcuffs to my wrists and hooked the chain separating them onto a ring attached to the head of the table's base. I listened carefully for punch lines, as the doctor explained that her methods were harsh, but thorough, and that by the end of my examination she would know the precise condition of my body - its stamina; its responsiveness to various stimuli; its defensive mechanisms and ability to perform its masculine duties.

It was impossible for me to suppress my chuckling. Every statement from the doctor's lips caused my belly to jiggle. She placed her stethoscope onto one of my testicles. The initial shock of cold was soon replaced by a tickling tingle. She listened, moved the device a few inches and listened some more. She scraped it along the skin towards my other testicle, then moved it below onto my scrotum. I was giggling like a little school girl, oblivious to the tiny alligator clips being clamped between my toes by Nurse Linda.

While Dr. Helen listened to the pulse of my peter with her stethoscope, Nurse Linda hooked wires onto my alligator clips. I was informed that the veins in my penis were healthy, the flow of blood unrestricted. For this, I was thankful, so I raised my head to scrutinize its swelling. The doctor's sterile instrument was gently rubbed atop my cock head, along the top of my shaft, and when Dr. Helen removed her stethoscope, my lively penis raised up and shifted into the crook between my thigh and belly.

Nurse Linda pinned my ankles to the table with her hands and Dr. Helen examined my feet - with her nails. She scraped the soles and I broke into hysterical laughter, trying my best to draw up my legs. Nurse Linda's grip was strong. She held my ankles secure and soon my feet became accustomed to the doctor's unusual inspection.

Satisfied that my feet were strong enough to withstand her torment, Dr. Helen grabbed a reflex hammer from a drawer and returned to stand beside my groin. She lightly tapped the rubber head onto the shaft of my cock. She started just above my balls and slowly tapped her way towards my cock head. Each contact caused my dick to bounce, rising up into the air for brief seconds, then slamming down to receive another tap. This, too, gave me amusement. It also distracted me from the fact that Nurse Linda was cuffing my ankles to the table. She had split my legs and bent my knees, draping each leg on either side. With handcuffs, she clamped each ankle to metal rings near the table's base.

When the doctor quit tapping, I quit laughing, as I realized they had rendered me completely helpless. I lay atop the table from the thighs to my elbows. From there my arms were pulled down, bent backwards, with wrists cuffed. The crooks of my knees were bent over the left and right edges of the table with ankles cuffed to the sides, lower halves of my legs vertical. I was stretched rather tight, arms past my head. My rib cage was forced to rise, belly forced to flatten, and this was no laughing matter. The effect of my drugging had vanished, and naturally, suddenly, I was scared shitless. I strained to break free, quickly realized I couldn't, and oddly, inexplicably, I was hornier than a bull elephant in musth.

How's that for a bizarre mix of emotions? On the one hand, they might be femme fatales planning to torture me for hours before unceremoniously executing me. On the other hand, they might be femme fatales planning to tease and torment me until I shot a load to Timbuktu. How to respond? As frankly as possible, that's how.

Uh, Dr. Helen, or whoever you are, should I...”

Too late! A black leather hood was placed over my head, covering it all. There were two eye holes, two nose holes and a zipper for the mouth, which was zipped shut.

A tingling between my toes accompanied the hum of a machine, and Nurse Linda stood beside the table where I could easily watch her strip down to nakedness, leaving only the cute little cap atop her head. Any resemblance to the Mickey Mouse Club was long gone.

* * *

Part 2 - Are You a Man?

They told me to be a good patient - to cooperate while they tested my manhood. Said they needed my semen and lots of it.

The doctor increased the buzz between my toes, causing them to contract upwards, arching my feet. She reached down and scraped the sole with her nails, then walked to the other side of the table and attacked my other foot in the same manner. Nurse Linda stood at the head of the table, leaned forward and dangled her tits above my eye holes. She dug her nails into my chest and belly, scraping back and forth, left and right. She mercilessly took my nipples between fingers and thumbs, pinching and twisting them like she was fine-tuning a radio. She grabbed hold of singular hairs found on my chest, on my belly, encircling my tits. She tugged on them, occasionally plucking them out of my skin.

I was taunted with verbal challenges; told that men were born to be punished; told that every man was inferior, until he could prove otherwise. I accepted their challenges, flexed my muscles. Their pain was minimized. My pleasure was maximized and I clinched my scrotum, thrusting my powerful cock into the air for all to see.

Dr. Helen transferred her scraping nails to my nuts. She ruthlessly pinched them, twisted their ever-tightening skin, plucked individual hairs from their roots, while Nurse Linda put the palms of her hands to my chest and belly, frantically rubbing back and forth, pressing down hard, setting my skin on fire.

There was elastic - or rubber. I could feel it encircling my balls, but I could not see it, because Nurse Linda's tits were pressing onto my leather mask. My face and head were drenched in sweat. My mouth yearned to break free, so my tongue and lips could taste my nurse's wonderful titties, but my garbled, verbal request was completely ignored. My testicles were bound close together, an increasing tightness distanced them from my cock. Something pulled them towards the end of the table, until my throbbing penis lifted off my belly to stand inches above it in midair. Nurse Linda removed herself from me and I raised my head to see a rubber band encircling my balls, while running from underneath was a string. It continued to the end of the table, where it disappeared, apparently tied to something below.

Then the nurse joined the doctor in a full assault. Dr. Helen stood on my right; Nurse Linda on my left. From my left, the nurse's mouth engulfed my testicles; from my right, the doctor's mouth clamped the base of my cock. I felt their tongues. I felt their lips, their warm saliva. They worshiped my manly organs, heaping their praise onto my sensitively stretched skin.

Pre-orgasmic fluid oozed from the slit of my penis head. A thin strand dribbled down onto my belly. This must have been the sign for which they were waiting, because both mouths were removed; both nurse and doctor filled their hands with alligator clips. The tiny teeth pinched the skin of my testicles; my scrotum. A plastic, adhesive-backed pad was stuck to the base of my cock, folded on either side until completing a circle around its thick meat. The male end of a snap rested on top and Dr. Helen brought an EKG-type wire and electrode, snapping it to the adhesive pad, while Nurse Linda connected wires to each alligator clip pinching into my balls.

I could not count the number of clips. I did not try. Sure, the sodium Pentothal had long ago left my system, but a new drug had taken its place. These two ladies had taken me to a level of intense pleasure and pain unknown to me. Now, it was testosterone that raged through my bloodstream - a heightened sense of masculinity. Little did I know that what I felt at that moment was just a sampling.

Switches were thrown and dials turned. The fire between my toes intensified, sending ripples through my feet, ankles and into my calf muscles. Another fire, a different fire, assaulted my testicles. It was a fire from within - a heated tingling, a maddening vibration of creepy-crawlies, as though a swarm of frantic insects had invaded my nut sac. Then, a reverberation racked the base of my cock. It contracted, but did not release. The mighty phallus stood fully erect, nearly three inches above my belly. There it remained - no relief, no relaxation, no recoil. My magnificent, manly cock was hideously tortured with electricity, locked in a perpetual contraction of voltage, masculine syrup oozing and dribbling, one bead after another.

My body reacted in kind. I arched my back, flattened my belly, expanded my chest. I posed for them. I begged them with words garbled beneath my sweaty mask, "Take me... finish me... let me shoot."

Their answer? Silence. They calmly strolled to the door, opened it and left me to writhe upon the table of examination. I was abandoned to pose and flex for myself.

* * *

Part 3 - How's My Condition?

I don't know how long they left me to writhe - could have been ten minutes or ten hours for all I knew or cared. Oh sure, it was uncomfortable and a bit painful, but all of that was unimportant, because my brain was stimulated with thoughts never before entertained. I raised my head, peeked through the eye holes of the leather hood and admired myself. Sounds arrogant, I know, but that's what they had done to me. The electrical pulses raging through my feet and legs, balls and cock had lifted me to a fevered intensity. I felt as though I was the manliest man ever born. My phallic weapon was so beautiful, standing erect, spitting it's pre-cum juices, preparing itself to do battle with these sadistic females. My testicles were swollen, engorged, filled with sperm and tingling with excitement. For the first time in a long time, the muscles in my chest and belly made me jealous. I wished that I myself could bury my own face into them - kiss them, lick them, taste their strength.

But none of my desires could be satisfied. No fulfillment could be reached without their help. This is what they had done to me. They had wrested my body from my control. It now belonged to them, and whereas logic told me that this was an undesirable situation – they could slice me to bits, take me through the hells of torture before finally sending me to hell itself – ecstasy told me I no longer cared what they did, as long as they let me shoot my load before ending my life. My impending orgasm, if and when it was granted to me, would be like none before it - an explosion of indescribable pleasure. I felt no fear from nor resentment towards my tormentors. Instead, I felt an uncontrolled lust to perform for them, to show them the potential of the masculine physique, and hopefully prove myself worthy of their praise.

Upon their return, both females were now totally naked and Dr. Helen held in her hand a giant test tube. She turned dials to intensify the electrical currents ravaging my feet, nuts and cock. Nurse Linda stood beside my chest and for her I arched my back, expanded my rib cage, flexed the muscles in my belly, arms and legs. I writhed for her; posed for her; invited her to ravage me.

With my electrified cock standing in midair, Dr. Helen covered its pulsating beauty with the test tube, and ravage me they did. From either side of the table, female lips, tongues hands and teeth assaulted my heaving chest and flexing belly. They sucked my nipples, drilled tongues into my navel, saturated the hairs on my body from crotch to arm pits with their warm saliva.

I moaned beneath my mask. Sweat was running rivers underneath the leather. I lifted my torso closer to them. Spit was coating my hairs and skin with a glistening sheen. I begged for a taste of their female flavors. I pleaded for my orgasm, but everything I said was void of conviction. My subconscious did not want this to end, even though my cock and nuts did.

My zipper was opened. Dr. Linda climbed onto the table and sat on my face, positioning her pussy hole within my tongue's reach. As I tasted her rich juices, she brought her vagina closer and pressed down, smothering my mouth with her pulsating meat. Beyond her, Dr. Helen continued to ruthlessly worship my chest and belly. I stretched myself as though on the rack, flattened my belly for her, while raising my chest for her. The tongue in her mouth heated my skin, smeared it with her saliva and my sweat. The juices flowing from Nurse Linda's vagina choked me with such pleasure that I did not notice the doctor leaving me. I was oblivious when she turned the dials to raise the pitch of humming machines.

Only when I felt the doctor's tongue licking my right foot did I realize what was happening. My electrically-charged toes were saturated with her spit, while my exposed arches were savagely scraped by her fingernails. Never in my wildest dreams could I have envisioned this being the final trigger. The pussy on my sweat-drenched face, alligators between my contorting toes, alligators biting my bulging, bound and stretched testicles, and electrode pad wrapped around my pulsating cock shaft all combined to prepare me for the inevitable. The electricity racking my scrotum, nuts and penis into constant clinching pushed me to the brink. But it was the doctor's loving assault on my poor, helpless foot that pushed me over the edge.

They showed me the tube filled with my glorious, life-giving semen, the product of an orgasmic explosion ten times greater than even I had predicted. Of course, the amount was healthy, as was I, and although I was impressed with my performance, somehow I also was a bit disappointed. My exhilarating carnival ride had come to an end, or so I thought.

Imagine my joy when the hood was removed from my head and Nurse Linda's magnificent breasts smothered my face. Imagine my elation when I saw Dr. Helen climb onto the table and insert my still electrified cock into her pussy hole. Imagine my satisfaction when I heard her pleasured screams of orgasm. And then dream of my ecstasy when the two women swapped positions and Nurse Linda used my dick to finish herself, while Dr. Helen covered my mouth and nose with her hot pussy, still buzzing from what I had done to her.

Yes, my manly phallus was used as a dildo - a very much alive dildo, active enough to contract and sacrifice yet another sample of masculine semen. My second load was fired directly into Nurse Linda's personal test tube. The one she took with her at all times. Her heavenly vagina. Yum!

They kissed me goodbye before injecting my vein with a new dose of sodium Pentothal. I awoke in the chair where the first dose had been secretly given. They had dressed me, and in my shirt pocket was a business card.

I suppose I could have raised a fuss, complained to my regular doctor, perhaps even called the prosecuting attorney's office or board of the AMA, but I did none of that.

The card read, "Madame Helene and Mistress Lynn... Trainers of SOB's... Worshipers of Real Men... (555) 555-6721. After allowing myself a week to recover, calling that number was the only punitive action I felt was necessary.


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