When I got to room 815, there was no one in the hall and just enough noise filtering up from the floors below to make it feel like I was entering a medical office space—but not so loud or close by to make me feel self-conscious again. I knocked on the door and Dr. Dave let me in. Dr. Jeff was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey buddy, good to see you. How are you doing?”

“I’ve been OK, no major complaints.”

“Good, good. Now, looking at your file, you are overdue for a wellness exam, so you’ll be getting a thorough going over. One of my residents, Dr. Jeff, will be joining us. Unfortunately, he’s stuck in traffic and is running behind. I didn’t want to keep you waiting, and I left an exam room key for him at the front desk, so he can slip in without disrupting anything. And he’ll be sure to page me before coming in.”

I always loved Dr. Dave’s attention to detail, though I had never seen his ability to pivot when something didn’t go quite right during a scene. I would have been fine waiting longer, but this way—knowing a door would be opening in on me mid-exam—added an exciting level of risk. It’s was a door quickly opening and closing and there was next to no foot traffic at the moment. I was in good hands.

“You indicated that you wanted photo documentation for your file,” Dr. Dave said, showing me the printout with all my responses. That I actually remembered saying yes to. I didn’t love how I looked, but I had always wanted to do it, and I didn’t know if I’d have another chance. “We use cameras that are not connected to the web, so all information is captured on an SD card that will be removed, kept on file, and given to you or your next doctor should you decide to switch practices.”

I objectively knew that this was probably going to be our last scene together, but him saying that hit me on a gut level. He was someone who helped me access the kinkier side of myself, and without connections to a kink community where I was going, I wasn’t sure when or how I’d connect with that side of myself again.

“Sounds good,” I said.”

“Great. Now, I need you to go into the other room and strip down. I’ll be in shortly to start the exam.”

I walked into the suite’s bedroom and closed the door, and quickly pulled my T-shirt off, kicked off my shoes, and slid off my jeans and briefs in one go, chucking the pile in a nearby chair. I stood there waiting, completely naked and facing the door waiting for him to come in. The A/C had been appropriately cranked up. Although I could feel my balls moving as I got out of my clothes, a few minutes in that room had them retreating into my body.

It felt like he was taking forever. I could hear some movement outside—the switch of a lamp, the crinkling of paper—as he made some final preparations and bought some time for Dr. Jeff. I was getting impatient, mainly because I was reaching the point where I couldn’t hold my bladder anymore. But suddenly, I heard Dr. Dave just outside the door, rustling through the papers on his clipboard. He gave two sharp courtesy knocks before entering.

White lab coat. Line of pens in the breast pocket. Stethoscope around the neck. I immediately went hard. He smirked as he stood there and took stock of me.

“We’re going to start with a preliminary visual inspection, looking at motor skills, coordination, and range of motion. Walk to the far end of the room and back for me.” I did. Even with my back turned I could feel his eyes analyzing each part of me.

“Do a squat.”

I did, noticing the popping noises my knees made. Dr. Dave noticed too, but only smirked.

“Now, face the other way and touch your toes. Hold that position for me. I’m going to check your spine.”

He approached me from behind, his legs barely grazing mine, as he ran his fingers over my back, gently rubbing the area around each vertebrae. When he was done, he ran his palms up my back to my shoulders.

“Stand up and face me. Hold your arms out.”

Putting his clipboard under his arm, he pulled a tape measure from one of his pockets and wrapped it around my chest and silently noted the number before measuring my waist.

“Thirty-nine inches around the chest, 36 inches around the waist,” he said, writing down the numbers in his clipboard. “Do you know your height and weight?”

“Um, five feet, ten inches and about 190 pounds, I think.”

He looked up from his board and gave me a dead stare. “I guess that’s about right.”

Putting the clipboard under his arm again, he took the tape measure and ran it along my penis, which had relaxed a bit during what I thought was a fairly mundane portion of the exam. A full bladder didn’t help either. Dr. Dave seemed to pick up on my being embarrassed that I wasn’t fully hard.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take a few measurements during the course of the exam. Do you have any questions before we move into the other room?”

“Yes,” I said. “I hate to ask, but I really need to pee and I don’t think I can hold it much longer. May I use the bathroom?”

“Fine,” he said, semi-faking irritation. “I needed you to manage yourself a bit better than that. But I’ll need you to immediately drink more water so that I can get the urine sample I want.”

Why didn’t he just give me a cup right then and there? Too uncomfortable to think too much of it, I followed him to the bathroom. He stood in the doorway and showed no intention of giving me any privacy.

“I’d like to see how well you can control your sphincter muscles. Go when I tell you and stop when I tell you. OK, go.”

This was new, and it made my dick jump. Problem was, a hard dick and having not gotten off in almost a week made it very hard to pee.

“I thought you said you had to go?” Dr. Dave said, sternly yet teasingly.

“I do, just having a hard time getting started.”

“Hmm. We’ll check to make sure that this is just nerves and not a prostate issue.”

I bore down as much as I could to get a trickle going, and then a heavy stream finally came. I felt a combination of relief even if my lower abdomen was cramping from holding everything in for so long.

“Stop.”

He knew how to tease, and that’s why I loved playing with him.

“Empty what’s left in your bladder.”

He watched me for a bit, and then left me to finish. I heard him open the mini fridge and fill a glass, which he handed to me as I came out from the bathroom.

“You’ll need to take three of these,” he said sternly. “It might take as much as 30 minutes for water to pass through your system, so we’ll at least get started, take your vitals, and get you prepped for the rest of your exam.”

I wasn’t quite sure what he meant by getting prepped, but I rolled with it, and quickly downed the prescribed amount of water.

“Good job, buddy,” Dr. Dave said, his tone warming up again. Now, I need you to hop up on the exam table.”

For as much as I loved the preliminary stuff that set the scene and established the power dynamics, we were finally getting to the kind of play that turned me into a repeat patient. And if he sensed this would be our last time together, I knew what was to come was going to be intense. I couldn’t have been more excited.