The nurse gathered the instruments and gave Moxie a small nod. "I will let the doctor know he is ready now."

For a short moment they are alone. Moxie folds the soiled blanket to hide his shame and puts it aside. She gently wipes away the sticky semen from his skin. Finn lay trembling from the exposure, aware of how vulnerable he is in this moment. Moxie cleans him and never complains. She drapes a clean blanket over him just enough to cover his now flaccid manhood. Providing some sense of modesty and protection. She returns to his side and dabs his tears and sweat away. "There is nothing to be ashamed of. Your body is just remembering sensation, Finn. Some good, some painful." She takes his hand in hers once again.

The doctor returns and explains the procedure to Finn before beginning. Though Finn barely manages to process the words through the tremor of his body. She pulls on a fresh pair of gloves and dips two fingers into a cool cream and presses them gently against Finn's bottom. The cold sting of the lidocaine makes him twitch, a sharp intake of breath through clenched teeth. Two fingers work carefully, smoothing the numbing ointment in slow circles. Even through the sedative administered earlier his body resists--muscles clenching hard, then trembling in confused spasms.

"Deep breath, Finn." Moxie holds his hand and exaggerates her own breath for him to follow.

When the blunt, club-shaped probe is brought forth Finn flinches at the sight, his breath catching. He immediately feels pressure whenever it meets his entrance making his entire frame seize--hips tightening, thighs quivering against the restraints. His bottom already sore and stretched clenches in raw protest. The first nudge past his outer ring forces a strangled sound from him. His lungs burn as he fights for breath, his chest heaving. Every slow advance sends shivers of resistance through his rectum. Spasms rippling like cramps he cannot control. The wand presses deeper, its girth unyielding.

His lower belly cramps as if his insides are folding against it. Each inch another mountain to endure. By the time the doctor guides the wand to its full depth Finn's body shakes with exhaustion, his breaths coming ragged and shallow. The blunt weight seated deep in his rectum, leaving him feeling impossibly full, stretched wide beyond comprehension. His abdomen flutters, spasms echoing around the presence lodged deep inside him.

"You're okay," Moxie reassures him. "It's almost over."

The wand does not stay still. The doctor adjusts her grip and begins the slow, deliberate rotation. The thick weight shifting inside him, pressing against swollen tissue, dragging over places that make Finn's body seize in helpless tremors. The first pivot pulls a raw whimper from his throat. His rectum spasms tight around the probe as if trying to force it out. The sedative rendering his muscles sluggish, confused, and quivering instead of truly resisting. The shift sent the blunt head into his tender rectal walls, and his hips jerk weakly, a stuttering motion he can't control.

Another adjustment, the wand angles deeper, and the pressure finds a place low inside his rectum that radiates sharp discomfort into his belly. His thighs shake, toes curling tight. He hisses through his teeth, every muscle along his spine stiffening as though he can arch away from the invasion.

The doctor's voice comes gentle, "I am turning just slightly. You will feel some pressure."

Pressure isn't the word he would have chosen. It is a dragging weight, like a fist slowly grinding against tissue that cannot retreat. Every pivot of the wand stirs cramps through his abdomen, the ache spiraling up into his ribs and down into his thighs. His breath sawed in shallow bursts.

Moxie presses a firm hand against his sternum. "In... and out... that's it."

He clings to her rhythm, trying to mirror her calm, but then the wand brushes against the tender mound of his prostate sending a bolt of strange heat into his pelvis. The sensation was not pleasure--it was an unwelcome echo, confusing. His body tensing around it in mistrust. His hips bucking faintly, more in protest than response, and his face burns with shame.

The doctor turns the probe again, slower this time, and a deep ache swells behind Finn's pelvis. The sensation feels as if something is lodged against bone, a pressure that refuses to yield. His anus flutters in involuntary spasms, the ring of muscle clenching, trembling, then quivering loose again. Each movement of the wand pulls a sound from him--soft, fractured, unwilling.

"Almost through the last sweep," the doctor announces, tone respectful, never rushing.

Finn can barely hear her. The probe shifting inside him again in slow deliberate arcs mapping out every tender contour of his rectum. He trembles as each pass is etching another memory into flesh already marked by too much. His body convulsing in small shivers with each lingering pivot. His abdomen clenching then softening again. By the time the final sweep is done, Finn is limp with exhaustion. His body spent and trembling.

"Alright, Finn." The doctor's voice gentle, "I'm finished with the scan. I am going to take the probe out now."

The words barely register. His body trying to curl inward. His limbs heavy and shaking. His chest rising in uneven little puffs through his exhaustion. Then he feels it--the first small tug. A low moan scrapes through his throat. His bottom spasms hard around the thick, blunt wand. As if his body wanted to lock it in place and resist the shift. The doctor is patient, the wand pauses, letting his muscles flutter against it before nudging it backward again. Finn shudders. His hips twitch weakly, traitorous, as if every nerve ending in his pelvis is frayed and sparking without consent. The probe drags slowly over the sensitive swell of his prostate. The pressure shifting with each millimeter of retreat. Scraping against places rubbed raw inside his rectum. Finn whimpers brokenly, the sound thin and high, his face twisting with discomfort, tears spilling over now. His legs twitch, toes curling, thighs quivering against the restraints. Another tug, deeper this time. The blunt head grinding past swollen tissue, and a groan echoing shame and relief tangled into one. His hips give another weak buck, his body trying both to push away and cling to the motion at once.

"It's okay, try not to fight it. Just let it go." Moxie whispers, rubbing slow circles over his sternum.

Finn wails low and hoarse as the widest part of the wand begins to edge through his inner ring. His body clamping down, fluttering, spasms clutching helplessly at the retreating shape. The sensation of it dragging free was almost worse than going in--his raw anus stretching, clutching, then slipping loose again. Hips rocking faintly, every twitch sparking through him without consent. Another moan, this one broken into sobs, tears through him as the blunt tip presses against his outer ring. His bottom clenching desperately, fighting the last intrusion, but the steady retreat continues, unrelenting and slow.

And then--finally--release. The wand slips free with a wet sound, and the emptiness left behind makes him groan, long and low, his whole body shaking. Nerves firing in the aftermath, hips rocking weakly, thighs still quivering with the aftershocks of spasms.

"The scan is done. I'll step out. Someone will be in shortly to clean you up." The doctor peels away her gloves and steps back quietly leaving the room.