Section 23

I take down Ethan's answers, noting that he seems as close-mouthed and disbelieving as I was. This means he's probably being just as honest as I was, i.e. there's whole lot of information he's keeping to himself. I don't pause to think about what he might've left unsaid. Okay, I do, but the pauses are so short that there's no way he could notice them.

"All right, time to check your vitals. Go ahead and take off your shirt and jacket and hop up on the exam . . . couch," I amend at the last minute.

I'm going for the steth when I realize that it might very well be the same one Dr. Brian used on me. My nipples perk back up at the memory of its cold caress. Good thing I'm back in my suit, with this lab coat on overtop. Still, these involuntary reactions have got to stop. Down, girls.

When I turn back around, my patient is shirtless and sitting as instructed, but his clothes are puddled on one end of the table instead of hanging on the wall hooks.

I give the clothes a glare. "I'm not your maid." I tell him loftily, only to realize that this was maybe not the best thing to say after he confessed to fantsizing about ladies in frilly costumes. However, he gets the hint and goes quickly to hang everything up.

The stethoscope is a reassuring weight around the back of my neck as I feel with both sets of fingers for the pulse in his wrists. Looking between his chest and the clock on the wall, I measure his heart rate and respiration, pausing afterwards to make note of these data. when I turn back around, I find that Ethan's already pitched a healthy-looking tent in his trousers. I sigh a little sigh. Usually male patients at least wait until they're asked to take their pants off. ButI blame myself for the idiotic maid comment, and Dr. Brian for his exam protocol, although in Ethan's case a lot more of the questions are medically relevant.

I check his blood pressure next, getting the peak systolic first with my fingers and then both the systolic and the diastolic by auscultation. I check again on his other arm, and then a third time, asking him to first lie down and then sit up quickly. "Any dizziness just then?"

He reports none. No flagging of the flagpole either. I was hoping it would go down during these normal medical procedures, but evidently Ethan has something on the brain. I can't throw stones, either. Was I any different, sitting here a few hours ago?

Ethan maintains his erection as I check his lymph nodes and examine his expressive, brown eyes. Both areas exhibit signs of a normal, healthy man. All three, I correct myself. A check of his ear canals also comes back clean, or as clean as can be expected. Auditory acuity is the next test. I look around for a tuning fork on the instrument tray, but there's none in evidence, soI just occlude his one of his ear canals with my finger and whisper in his other ear. The right ear gets a quote from Shakespeare. The left is a definition from Ambrose Bierce. I have him repeat these things back to me so as to check his hearing.

It's a strange mixture of hesitation and pride that fills me when I see that my whispering has made the little hairs on his forearms stand up.

Section 24

I take my jacket and shirt off, and place them beside me on the couch, and sit down. This normal activity's provided a bit of a distraction, and my penis, which up until now has been acting like it has a life of it's own, subsides a little. This is good. I am sure Doctor Chan will be absolutely professional about it but I don't know that I can be and I would be mortified if there were any, how shallI put it, little accidents.

I'm naturally a fairly untidy person, but Doctor Chan clearly isn't and makes me pick up my clothes from the couch and hang them up. A little brusque, but I guess she has a lot to get through and I don't really mind being told off by a beautiful woman. In a white coat. While I'm half-naked. Oh no - let's not go there. Concentrate Ethan, on anything but her. The seconds ticking by, counting the books on the shelf, anything but the feel of her fingers on my wrist or the way she stares at my chest counting my breaths against the clock.

BP next - this is better Ethan, no bodily contact, and that rather strange empty feeling in your arm as the cuff's pressure increases. She asks me to lie down and then sit up again. "Any dizziness?" she asks? Oh yes, I think but reply negatively, conscious of the fact that her continued attention really isn't helping down below. Perhaps I should ask to go use the toilet so that I can jerk myself off before we go any further; that might solve the problem. But no time, she's in my ears not literally but whispering up close

"To men a man is but a mind. Who cares

What face he carries or what form he wears?

But woman's body is the woman. O,

Stay thou, my sweetheart, and do never go,

But heed the warning words the sage hath said:

A woman absent is a woman dead."

in one ear and Shakespeare in the other:

“Nature does require

Her time of preservation, which perforce

I her frail son amongst my brethren mortal

Must give my attendance to.“

I wish she hadn't - the Highway Code would have been much appropriate. As she whispers close to my ear and I recite the words backI catch a whiff of perfume. The close proximity of Doctor Chan whispering sweet nothings in my ears, her perfume and my heightened state of arousal all give rise to goosebumps and I shiver slightly, not from the cold but from anticipation. Surely I am not supposed to be enjoying this?

Section 25

When Ethan mentioned that he had a family history of cancer, I knew it was going to be important to do a full oral exam. So after exploring the inside of his mouth with a light and a tongue depressor, vowing not to think overly much about his prime example of the glossus, I pop on some gloves. Evan twitches. I realize belatedly that I've snapped them on without even think Ing. Way to go, Lia.

"Extend your tongue for me please." I wrap the tip of it in gauze and then taking hold with one set of fingers, I palpate the sides with the other. I go slowly. This is not an exam I do often and I don't want to miss anything.

On one side there is what feels like an irregularity, so I go back to the other side to check. No, everything's even; Ethan's tongue is blessedly free of lumps and bumps. However, I do notice that he isn't reacting to the exam the way most people would. It's tiring to keep the tongue extended for any length of time, and by now I should be feeling little pulls as he tries to retract. The fact that he's fine, and the implications of that are something that it might be okay to think about tonight, as I'm soaking in the old-fashioned tub at my lodgings, but definitely not right now.

I get rid of the gauze and instruct him to prepare for the oral bimanual exam. "Open for me."

With one hand I press the sides of his mouth together so if he bites down for any reason, he'll get his own tissues before he gets mine. I take my index finger and feel around on the floor of his mouth for a while. Everything is smooth. Soft. Hot. Aaaaaand that's enough of that.

I take back my finger.

"Ethan face away from me please. And if you could just loosen the top of your pants and slide them down around your hips."

All righty. Trachea checks out. Thyroid, too. My hands in his clavicular fossae, feeling the lymph nodes there as he breathes deeply. The touch gets another little shiver and I spend so much time trying not to think about it, nor what may or may not be still be going on in my patient's pants, that I forget to warn him about the auscultation and just put the steth's cold diaphragm right against his back.

His heart rate's up. I manage not check the clock to satisfy my curiosity about how much. His shoulder, where I'm resting my other hand, is smooth and warm to the touch. Also, he smells nice. Manly. Clean.

It's amazing how much the appointment with Dr. Brian has scattered my thoughts. Ordinarily, I'd never have these kinds of concentration issues during an exam. But now it's like someone broke the faucet off the sink and water's streaming out unchecked.

"Tell me if you feel any sensitivity as I'm doing this." Methodically, but not without a couple of slips in concentration, I run my hands down the sides of his spine, ending at the sacrum, just underneath the waistband of his underwear.

I move around to the front of Ethan and auscultate the front of his chest He has a nice patch of hair there, trailing down towards parts unknown, although these parts won't remain unknown for long. His nipples harden at my touch and I'm so focused on not staring at them, that I realize that the sound of his breathing in my ears has made me start breathing in time with him, ratcheting up my own arousal. As Hugh Grant once said in his charming accent: Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck.

It was at this point that Dr. Brian did his strength, endurance, and flexibility tests, but I decide to skip those. Although it might be nice to sit on the desk with my legs crossed and watch how many push-ups Ethan can do, I fail to see the point. And running in place with his erection bobbing in his underwear would be flat-out painful, not to mention humiliating. He's going to be embarrassed enough by what's coming next.

Section 26

Doctor Chan asks me to open my mouth so I oblige. She has a good look round. I say 'aah' a few times. She seems satisfied, but then I hear the snap of latex and suddenly come back to what she is doing. She asks me to open my mouth and put my tongue out again. She holds it and then slowly moves her other hand's fingers around the inside of my mouth. This is strangely erotic especially as she holds my jaw firmly so I can hardly move it. I love powerful women.

I get told to turn round, and loosen the top of my pants. Pardon? I hesitate before realising that we nearly had a misunderstanding. Doctor Chan was not getting the bottom of the problem just yet, she was just talking about my trousers of course. I unfasten my belt and let my trousers fall down til they came to a natural rest. The waistband of my underpants shows over the top. I wondered if I'm to pull those down too, but decide Doctor Chan can ask for that, or better still she can pull them down herself.

She feels over my body and I try hard not to think about this. It's not always obvious where her hands will go next and as she moves around feeling me breathe. Sometimes she seems to pushing into to my body, other times she just brushes against the skin. It's almost ticklish, and I am sorry when she stops. Then the stethoscope. Why do they never, ever warm these things up? I jump as the cold instrument moves methodically across my back. Doctor Chan rests her hand on my shoulder and it feels nice. She examines my back and asks if I feel any sensitivity. Her hand runs down my spine right to the base, and her hand slips under the top of my boxers. My erection suddenly starts come back to full life again. Don't stop Doctor Chan, carry on down into the cleft of my buttocks and let your fingers linger there for a while.

She doesn't, of course, but the thought makes me feel aroused again, and I can't disguise my more rapid heart rate and heavier breathing. She listens to my chest with that cold stethoscope and I feel my nipples harden. I try to kid myself that's a reaction to the instrument that she moves around my chest but the reality is that it is not. She carefully doesn't look at me while she does this, I guess to allow her to concentrate on what she's hearing through the earpieces. That gives me the opportunity to look at her. Again I get a glimpse of the woman underneath the white coat. She's not wearing trousers, I notice, as so many female doctors do these days. She has nice legs and her skirt is short, but not too short, leaving plenty of scope for my imagination to work overtime on what she is wearing underneath.

I must stop this - the erection is almost becoming painful, constrained as my penis is against my underwear and trousers. And it must be obvious to Doctor Chan surely? Can I stop and have a cold shower? Can I plead an urgent appointment and ask to be rescheduled when Doctor Brian is here? I don't get erections thinking about men, but I am afraid Doctor Chan is doing things to my body which may be perfectly normal but which are totally inappropriate under the circumstances. If she so much as looks at my groin I’m going to come and I would be mortified. Help Doctor Chan, what am I going to do?

Section 27

"Okay, now if you'll remove the rest of your clothes, we can continue."

I turn back to the instrument tray to give Ethan the kind of privacy I wasn't afforded. However, I look back at the exact wrong time. Boxers being pulled down creates tension in an erect penis, causing a spring-like effect when the underwear comes off. I've seen this before, of course, but never so startlingly.

He gets back up on the table. Some gentle pushing at his abdominal organs reveal nothing amiss, so it's time to proceed lower. I put on another pair of gloves and do the first part of the pelvic exam while he's still lying down, looking at symmetries and colors, and memorizing the shape of his scrotum to see if there's a change when he stands up. I direct him to part his legs and have a look-feel at his perineum. There's nothing abnormal about it, although when I touch it, Cupid's arrow twitches. Yes, Ethan's hard-on is definitely a distraction. It's a beautiful specimen, with a graceful curve in it. It's also in the way as I go to palpate his inguinal nodes, but I manage to maneuver around Mr. Happy without coming into contact. However, it's becoming time we addressed this not-so-little problem.

"Ethan, I'm going to leave for a minute and I'd like you to just lie here and see if you can will yourself to relax. Your reaction is perfectly normal, but I'm going to need to examine some soft tissues in a minute and they'll need to be soft, if you get my meaning."

I ball up the gloves and throw them in the garbage before going to ask one of the nurses where I might find an item commonly found in hospitals. He directs me to the right place and before long I'm back. My patient is now appropriately relaxed, making me wonder if British men think of baseball, like guys back home are said to do, or if they think of something else, like soccer or cricket.

"All right. Go ahead and stand up now please." I roll the exam chair over and sit down. "Now tell me if you feel any tenderness at any time."

Gloved once more, I take careful hold of his penis and part the meatus, looking for any discharge. But it's not long before John Thomas gets his own ideas and starts to rise out of my hands. Looks like I'll need that one item asked for after all. SoI reach into my coat pocket and get out the ice pack, bringing it swiftly and firmly to where the swelling is worst. I don't warn my patient. Shocking him will help me.

He yelps and stares at me accusingly.

"Sorry. ButI need these tissues soft." My tone is firm. I have no desire to be here all afternoon.

When he's soft enough, I palpate him bilaterally on top, from base to tip, and then asking him to hold himself up as I feel the underside back down to where it joins his body.

"Good. Now keep yourself elevated and let me know if you feel any pain."

I put my thumbs and forefingers at the sides of his scrotum, feeling for the two ducts of the vas deferens. "Any pain here?"

Next I lift each side of his sac in turn and gently handle each of his testicles. "How about here?"

He's growing again, but that doesn't matter anymore. I find his epididymes and stroke each in turn. "How about now?"

Section 28

So the moment of truth, Doctor Chan.

I am both dreading and excited by this. I am looking forward to Doctor Chan examining my private parts but dreading it also. My erection is so stiff it's almost painful, and I am sure it won't take much to release it. I get the idea that for some reason there's no privacy in this surgery so on her instruction I lower my trousers and boxers. Doctor Chan has the decency to look away while I do that but manages to glance up just as the underwear was coming over my erect member. It suddenly springs into a more comfortable position free from the constraints and she looks away quickly, guiltily.

I lie on the couch and wait. I hope that things might get a little less sensitive as I lie there exposed, but soon Doctor Chan comes over and starts pushing by abdomen about - deeply probing but not unpleasant. The sound of gloves being put on. I know what that means, and am slightly surprised as she stares at my groin. Surely it's not that unusual? I push my legs apart when told to, feeling that this could be it. I feel exposed with all my lower orifices now on display. She places a finger on the sensitive region between my anus and the base of my penis. Oh my God Doctor Chan - do you know what you are doing? I react involuntarily, I just can't help it. I try to control my penis and stop it reacting, butI can no more do that than I can stop breathing.

She works her way around the base of my penis feeling and poking but very carefully not touching it. That makes it worse: waiting for the accidental brush of Doctor Chan's long elegant fingers against my throbbing flesh.

She finishes and then says something I find a little odd:

"Ethan, I'm going to leave for a minute and I'd like you to just lie here and see if you can will yourself to relax. Your reaction is perfectly normal, but I'm going to need to examine some soft tissues in a minute and they'll need to be soft, if you get my meaning."

What does she expect me to do? There's no doubt what she's referring to, the evidence is sticking up in front of us both. Relax? That's a tall order. I contemplate relieving myself but I am not sure how much time I have. Also, it will be very messy and Doctor Chan will surely know what I have done. NoI can't do that, I must just try and calm down, and think of something else. I think of my stamp collection, and the new batch of early 20C definitives that I have just bought at auction. I get excited, but not in that way. Slowly my physical signs start to subside to something like normal. I feel my heart slowing and not thumping against my chest and my breathing becomes a little more regular. I take a glance towards the end of the couch. JT is not flaccid but has managed to subside from it's huge busting appearance to something approaching normal. I hope this is enough as I don't know what Doctor Chan will do if she can't complete her examination.

She comes back in the room, glances at me and orders me to stand up. I do so and then it starts, the feel of her fingers in latex on my penis. She takes hold of it and starts to examine the end and the inevitable happens. The blood starts to flow and slowly my dick starts to point accusingly at her.

I have no warning of what happens next. Obviously having lost patience with me, she whips out an ice pack and almost throws it on to my erection. Ouch that hurt. The erection soon disappears as the cold takes its toll on my penis and testicles. She presses the pack down hard so there is no escape, and the implication is quite clear. She will do whatever it takes to get her examination done. I quickly dismiss any thoughts of ice cubes in an erotic setting - 91/2 Weeks this isn't - deciding that actuallyI don't want ice slammed into my groin again in a hurry.

She then goes on to examine my penis. Holding it, feeling it from top to bottom, squeezing it. She asks me to hold it while she examines underneath. And this is weird. I feel anaesthetised and my little fella does not react at all. At least that enables her to complete her probing.

I continue to hold my penis up while she moves down. This is surreal:I am holding my dick while an attractive woman is paying a great deal of attention to my balls. She looks, squeezes, strokes all the time asking if there is any pain. Oh yes Doctor Chan, but you don't want know or that ice pack will be slammed back. Just squeeze those testicles a little harder, stroke the sac a little more - please.

The anaesthetic effect of the ice is beginning to wear off and I feel my penis growing in my hand as she continues her work. She strokes that tube thing in each ball. "How about now?" she asks.

"No pain" I say "but it does feel a little tender" and that Doctor Chan is entirely down to your exam technique. If this was anywhere but a doctor's examination room, I would be begging you to continue. By design or accident she is managing to keep me the right side climax but it's getting increasingly difficult to control.

Section 29

I'm frankly quite irritated by this turn of events. Is this Dr. Brian's idea of a joke? I was told the patient was presenting with pain in the testicles. Well, I've felt all around this man's fine, fuzzy balls and he reports no pain. Furthermore, his cock has been straining towards me in one way or another for the better part of an hour, and now, to add insult to injury is leaking pre-come. So not only is his desire apparent and palpable, but his scent is now triggering a very primitive part of my brain that never heard of ethics or went to medical school. It's telling me to lick him. Suck him. Now.

Setting my jaw, I give Ethan further scrutiny, searching his face for any sign of a trick. Is he feeling any pain that he's not reporting, or did he actually come here under false pretenses? Either way, I'll get to the bottom of this, if I have to strap him down on that table an use every instrument on the tray.

Just to make sure, I go over his scrotum more firmly a second time, looking carefully at Ethan as he responds my fingers and pointed questions.

Then it's time for the hernia check. I insert a gloved digit into each inguinal canal, one after the other, feeling for anything untoward as I instruct him to cough twice on each side. Nothing.

Okay, fine.

I curtly tell Ethan to turn around and have him bend over the exam table. I actually hold little Elvis out of the way so he's pointing downwards and maybe, just maybe, will actually subside for a minute or three. "Chest down," I tell him, and press between his scapulae when he doesn't bend far enough. As if he's never done this before, the poser.

Time for the DRE now. I briefly consider just rubbing my gloved hand along his dewy instrument and saving myself the trouble of taking the cap off the Surgilube, but that might make him think I was enjoying this in some way. Which I most certainly am not!

A long-suffering sigh escapes me as I prep the fingers of one hand and slap the insides of his thighs with the other to get him to assume a wider stance. A firm hand on his buttocks parts them and I'm in with a single finger without bothering to ask him to bear down. It's only a slim female finger, after all. I had three very inquisitive male ones up my own back door this very morning and was doing just fine. I decide that I will label Ethan a wuss if he complains.

His anus is pink and healthy. Suspiciously so. I feel around against the inner surface of the sphincter and then go in for the prostate check. That needs to happen beforeI do anything else. Okay, it's there and it feels normal. It's actually making him wiggle his hips a bit and I smack his rear end abruptly, telling him to settle down because, really, that's just too much, you know? And whether it was the smack, my tone, or the actual contact with his prostate I'll never know, because suddenly he's making a strained kind of sound and sending streams of pearly-white spunk against the floor and the base of Dr. Brian's pristine exam couch.

I'm completely gobsmacked. Holy mother of –

Section 30

For some reason, Doctor Chan is looking fed up. Perhaps, she's missing her tea break, we seem to have been here for a long time.

She grasps my nuts again and carefully feels them, knowingI am sure that this just increases the tension in and around that part of my anatomy;I can't help it, any bloke would be the same. She just doesn't seem to realise that the ache I complained of is sporadic, comes and goes, and it's not there now, however much she has a good grope which, incidentally, seems to be bordering on the "let's do this for fun". I feel, rather than see, the top of my penis getting wet. Oh no, please tell me that's not happening.

She jabs a finger into my groin and I cough and repeats it in the other side. That seems to be ok as she doesn't need me to do that again. I am losing my embarrassment at being naked in front of her despite certain physical reactions that seem to be becoming standard.

Then she makes me bend over the couch. She holds not-so-little Willie down while I bend over, making sure that he's free underneath the couch. I guess that'll be more comfortable than being pinned against the fabric, although he would be more hidden there. But no time to worry, she pushes me in the back so that I am right down against the couch, chest flat against the paper roll, hands gripping the other side. The she smacks - there is no other word for it - the inside of my thighs. It takes me a while to realize but she wants my legs open more soI oblige, nevertheless feeling that this is not a good idea. There is something very enjoyable about being exposed in this way, especially as I can't see what she's preparing to do. I am still wondering what those rings on the side of the couch are for, and breathe a mental sigh of relief as I get to see those stirrups again, this time from close quarters. Thank god I am not a girl!

BeforeI know it, her finger's inside me. None of that polite "please bear down, you may feel as if you want to pass" stuff. Straight in, but am I complaining? I don't think so. She moves her finger around and I move my hips involuntarily, reacting to her probing trying to make sure that I feel all the sensations from her. This of course is wrong. I know it, but I can't help it. I have been on the verge of climaxing for some time now, and it's only luck and extreme self-control (not to mention an ice pack) that's kept me from being so totally embarrassed.

She speaks sharply to me telling me to settle down. What - like an unruly child, dog, or horse? And then another smack on the buttocks. Ooh - that was unexpected but not unpleasant.

But then Doctor Chan goes for the prostate and she fingers it in just the right place, the pressure, the movement, being told off, the smack, and then she moves her finger a little, massaging that delicate spot moving her finger in that odd combination of in, out, up and down simultaneously which is all but unbearable.

I daren't look. She must have noticed. I have to bite on my tongue, not to shout out "God ..... yeeeeeeeeeeees" and thrust my penis in to the empty air under the couch.

The mess on the floor, was that really me? I can't help but be proud - a good volume! But my erection is disappearing rapidly now and I relax. I guess a post coital cigarette’s out of the question.

There's an ominous silence as Doctor Chan removes her finger, takes off the latex gloves and throws them in the waste bin. I want to shrink, fall into a hole in the ground, run from the room, turn round and embrace Doctor Chan, thank her, ask her to do it again, all at the same time. But quickly the euphoria wears off and I stand upright, and turn to face her, the last drops of ejaculate still clinging to a much less impressive male member.

"Do you have a tissue?" I ask.

Section 31

A tissue? I'm incredulous. if I hadn't just thoroughly felt this man's balls I'd have to conclude that they were made of brass. My eyebrows soar and I cough into my hand to avoid any kind of verbal ejaculation. There's been far too much of that already.

"Since we're trying to maintain a sterile environment here," I say dryly, "I'm going to ask you to clean that up, before you get back on the table. I have some things that I'll need to get ready in the meantime."

He looks at me with disbelief, but I'm sure as hell not cleaning that mess. I'm also not leaving it to dry and get me in twenty kinds of trouble when Dr. Brian returns and finds the cleaning staff missed something. And quite frankly, I enjoy seeing Ethan crouching on the floor after all the trouble he's been giving me. Seeing the long muscles of his thighs and glutes change their shape as he balances, wiping up the spill with the spray bottle and paper towels I've given him imparts a heady feeling of power. I feel a twinge in a place I shouldn't.

When Ethan is finished cleaning. I have him get back on the couch in a supine position.

"I'm going to need you to hold still for the following procedure," I tell him, pulling a wide leather strap from the far side of the couch across Ethan's chest. I'd affixed it parallel to the other side while he was mopping up the evidence of his loss of control. His eyes go wide when he sees what I've done, but it wouldn't be very British to protest or struggle now, would it?

I wheel over an IV stand, and hang a blue rubber bag off it, watching Ethan covertly for signs of recognition as I prepare the tubing. To my amazement, I see that JT seems to understand and is responding positively. Apparently, this man has the refractory period of a chimpanzee.

It's fascinating. Distracting, too, but it's not going to get in the way of me finishing the exam.

On the tray, next to the nipple clamps, is an item I never thoughtI might need -- a small urethral insert with a ring meant to retain it from the outside. I lube it up, and ease it down into Ethan's opening, heedless of how he might be feeling about it. I'm not going to be subjected to the vagaries of his hair-trigger prostate again.

The head ring goes neatly into the proper groove in his anatomy and everything is secure.