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The Doctor is In (F/M Intense)

ttgore

2nd Level Red Feather
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Jan 23, 2004
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Given the popularity of this first story in the series, I thought I'd add the Dr. Priscilla Harper tales to my archive. Here's #1—enjoy!

:jester:


THE DOCTOR IS IN

By

T.T.Gore:​


The director of Unknown University’s Center for Human Physical Endurance Studies, Dr. Priscilla Harper, was a tall, slender blonde in her mid-thirties. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, she wore black-framed glasses, and her face appeared devoid of makeup. She had the kind of looks that didn’t need makeup, however, and her white lab coat couldn’t quite hide the swell of pert breasts. I glanced down. From what I could see of her legs—she wore a knee-length black skirt—they looked outstanding.

Well, I thought, this might be rather an enjoyable way of earning twenty-five hundred dollars. Little did I know!

Dr. Harper flipped through the papers on the clipboard she carried. Then she looked up at me and sketched a smile. “Well, Greg, I think you’ll do for my study. You’re over eighteen and appear to be in good physical condition. If you’ll just sign this release..."

She handed me the clipboard and I scribbled my signature on the line indicated. “And it’s twenty-five hundred?” I asked, just to be sure. I’d seen the ad in the campus paper and it seemed too good to be true.

“That’s right,” she nodded. “In cash. College students prefer cash, don’t they? Of course, that’s only if you pass a preliminary physical exam. It won’t take long. Step into this room, please. And take your clothes off.”

She followed me in, closed the door and stood watching while I climbed out of my clothes. It was slightly embarrassing, but on the other hand I’d never minded showing off my in-shape body to a pretty woman. When I was naked she had me lie down on an exam table. Then, with the medical profession’s slightly annoying efficiency, Dr. Harper set about her examination.

Though she was certainly attractive, there didn’t seem to be anything sexy about the situation—not even when her hand lingered on my arm, or when her fingers seemed to toy momentarily with my dark chest hair. Perhaps I ought to have heeded these warning signs. But she was a doctor, for God’s sake!

Several minutes passed as Dr. Harper poked and prodded my naked body, pausing now and then to jot down a note. Finally, she seemed satisfied.

“Very well, Greg,” she said. “You’re certainly healthy enough to participate in my study. Shall we move on to the testing room?”

She didn’t offer me a robe, which seemed a little strange. Being stark naked in the presence of a good-looking woman like Dr. Harper made me feel a little self-conscious, even if it didn’t bother her. But I told myself that she’d probably seen more than her share of bare-assed males in her time, so I shrugged and followed her through the door she opened.

The testing room was windowless, its walls and ceiling covered with sound-absorbing panels. The floor was surfaced with nondescript gray linoleum tiles. There was a large storage cabinet, flanked by a pair of metal-topped tables, set against the far wall. Some sort of electronic control panel was placed on one of the tables.

Most interesting, however, was the open metal frame that stood on a low platform in the center of the room. I immediately noticed the stout leather straps that were riveted to each corner of the frame, but Dr. Harper gave me no time to rethink my commitment. She put her hand on the small of my back and gave me a little push in the direction of the platform, which I mounted obediently.

“That’s right,” she said. “Turn around. Your feet go there. Stretch your arms toward the upper corners. Good! Now hold still, please.”

With practiced movements, she wrapped the leather straps around my wrists and ankles, and tightened them. Then she stepped to the control panel and touched a button. With a faint whirring sound the frame extended itself vertically, lifting my heels from the platform.

It’s important that you remain immobilized for the duration of the test,” Dr. Harper explained. “For your own safety.”

“Say, Doctor, your letter never said—“

“Now, the testing can last up to three hours, depending on the subject’s stamina.” Dr. Harper smiled at me. It seemed a slightly sensuous smile, which made me nervous in the extreme. “During testing, please do not feel compelled to limit your reactions. As you can see, this room is quite effectively soundproofed.”

She stepped down from the platform and passed behind me. I heard the cabinet door open. Then I heard a sort of rubbery snap. What the hell was she DOING? To keep my nerves steady, I thought of the four-figure stipend I’d been promised.

“Phase one requires manual stimulation resulting in the characteristic male reaction,” she said as she took position behind me. Manual stimulation? I thought. Characteristic male reaction? What the hell did THAT mean?

“Listen, Doctor,” I protested, “I’m not so sure about this—GAAAAAAAA!!!”

I gasped and shivered as Doctor Harper’s finger began to explore the sensitive crevice between my butt cheeks with an insistent gloved finger! Instinctively, I clenched my ass muscles. She clicked her tongue and gave me a hard slap on the behind. This caused me to release a girlish little shriek.

“Don’t try to fight it,” she said, in her brisk, professional voice. “If you resist, we can’t be certain of obtaining the characteristic male reaction.” A moment later, her gloved finger located my tightly puckered orifice and began to worm its way IN!

“EEEEEEEEEE!!!” I squealed as her finger probed deeper. A wicked, indescribable thrill shot up my asshole and raced through my body. I went up on the tips of my toes and strained toward the ceiling. Doctor Harper flexed her finger.

“EEEEEEEEYAAAAAA” I cried. “Wait! Stop! STOP it! I’ve changed my MIND! I don’t want you to DO this!”

“But you signed the RELEASE, Greg, remember?” She patted my twitching behind. “I have your full PERMISSION. Now DO try to relax!”

And after that there was nothing I could do but submit to this humiliating and disgusting violation of my masculine dignity. Oh, I struggled. I begged. I even wept in the end. But eventually Doctor Harper obtained what she called “the characteristic male reaction.” Her clever finger located the incredibly sensitive spot she’d been seeking. And when it did, my knotted muscles suddenly RELAXED, inviting her to TOUCH that sweet spot, and CARESS it—!

“Oh NO!!!” I screamed as my body trembled violently. “Oh SHIT!!! Oh FUCK!!! Oh fucking SHIT!! It fucking TICKLES—!”

“Yes, other test subjects have used that word to describe the sensation produced by manual stimulation of the prostate gland.” Had Doctor Harper’s voice lost a little of its brisk professionalism? “And of course, they exhibited the same physiological reaction that you’re exhibiting now.”

It took me a moment to realize what the hell she was talking about. But then I noticed that I was sporting a rock-hard throbbing ERECTION! This bitch was turning me ON! She was turning me on with her sick, perverted ANAL examination!

“Yes, the characteristic reaction,” Dr. Harper observed—a bit breathlessly, it seemed. She gripped my thigh with her free hand and wiggled her finger.

“GAAAAAARRRRRRUUUUUUMPH!!!” I bellowed in response to this shockingly intimate caress of my virginal sweet spot. My body broke out in a cold, delicate sweat. Goose bumps roughened my skin. A tiny, clear drop of pre-cum appeared at the tip of my quivering cock.

“Excellent!” Dr. Harper exclaimed. She teased me in this unthinkable manner for a minute more. Writhing and grunting, I endured her erotic anal exam as best I could. What ELSE could I fucking do?

Then, mercifully, she withdrew her finger. I sagged in the frame and sobbed with relief. Dr. Harper patted my ass again.

“Good job, Greg!” she said. “I think you’re going to be an EXCELLENT test subject!” She stepped around the frame to stand face to face with me. “Now that you’ve exhibited the characteristic male reaction, the question is, how long can you MAINTAIN it?”

“AAAAAAH!!!” I cried in response, for she had punctuated her rhetorical question by giving my tumid tool a squeeze. Dr. Harper smiled.

“Of course, I can’t rely entirely on such crude natural methods as this,” she whispered as her fingers stroked my cock. “But this device—I designed it myself, by the way—includes certain features that will assure your compliance. Bear with me for just a moment, please, and we’ll commence phase two.”

I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about—but based on what had happened so far, I felt far from certain that I’d enjoy phase two. And oh, how right I was!

“Manual stimulation of the prostate gland is hardly practical,” she went on as she stepped around me again and busied herself with something or other. I heard a couple of metallic snaps. Then something made contact with my puckered asshole again—and it wasn’t Dr. Harper’s finger!

“Hold still...good...now bear down. Excellent!” she exclaimed.

I tried to disregard her orders, but having once been stimulated, my traitor body was demanding more! It was hideously obvious what Dr. Harper was doing—she was inserting a DILDO of some kind! It felt smooth and slipped in easily. Probably lubricated, I thought distractedly as despite my best intentions, I bore down. When the dildo’s rounded tip touched my sweet spot, I moaned with humiliation and delight.

“It’s fixed to the frame,” Dr. Harper explained. “Spring-mounted and precisely positioned so that you can bear down on it without fear of injury. And if past test results are any guide, Greg, it should keep you VERY stimulated indeed!”

With that, she went to the control panel again and extended the frame to stretch my body just a bit more. This broke contact between the tip of the dildo and my yearning sweet spot. By bearing down, however, I could still get it to tickle me.

“Over seventy percent of test subjects engage in voluntary stimulation at the commencement of phase two,” Dr. Harper observed. “Considering the extreme homophobia of the average heterosexual male, that’s a remarkable number. It suggests, indeed, that homophobia is partly a form of overcompensation for suppressed homoerotic desires. However, we won’t be relying on your voluntary cooperation. Instead, we shall employ a method that assures compliance REGARDLESS of the test subject’s attitude!”

And without another word, she darted her sharp-nailed fingers into my exposed ARMPITS!

“BWAAAAAA-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA!!!” I screamed, writhing in a sudden, overpowering fit of hysterical HILARITY! Oh SHIT how it TICKLED! My belly convulsed—a fresh crop of goose bumps stiffened the hairs on my arms and legs—I bounced on my toes and shook my ass like a pole-dancing STRIPPER! And THAT made the dildo bump my SWEET spot—which made my COCK even HARDER—!

“OH NO!!!” I howled. “OH-HO!!! OH-HO-HO-HO!!! OH PLEEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEEEESE!!! YOU’RE KILL-HILL-HILLING MEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!”

“Now don’t be so DRAMATIC, Greg” she replied, never pausing in her ticklish assault on my defenseless hollows. “I’ve haven’t lost a test subject yet!”

“YEEEEEEHEEEEEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” I shrieked. Each time the dildo delivered a stimulating bump, my throbbing shaft swelled slightly and squeezed out another tiny drop of pre-cum. I arched my back and wiggled my hips in a frantic attempt to convert this tormenting tease into the orgasmic release I so desperately craved. But it soon became evident that no amount of straining and struggling would enable me to make myself cum. Only Dr. Harper could make me cum—and I had a horrible suspicion that she wouldn’t DO it—!

“Tickling causes you to writhe,” she observed as her hands slipped down my torso to stroke my ribs. “Writhing causes you to stimulate yourself. Stimulation causes you to become more and more sexually aroused. And sexual arousal causes you to become more and more ticklish. So you see, Greg, I can potentially maintain you in this state for several hours.” She shifted her left hand to tickle the patch of super-sensitive skin just above the cleft of my buttocks. “Of course, I must be careful to avoid exhausting you...and careful to avoid inducing a fit of hysteria...”

“GAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I screeched at the absolute top of my fucking LUNGS, squirming like an eel as her well-honed nails caressed that ultra-ticklish patch of skin! “NOT THERE!!! OH SHIT I’M BEGGING YOU NOT FUCKING THEEEEEERE!!! IT TICK-HICK-EEEEEE-HICK-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HICK-HICKLES MEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!”

She had me bouncing on my toes now, and I was dripping pre-cum like a leaky faucet. Her merciless fingers scampered to and fro over my torso, searching out all my most unbearably ticklish places, making me writhe and wiggle and stimulate myself over and over and OVER, until I thought I’d fucking DIE if she wouldn’t let me fucking CUM—!

In the end, Dr. Harper succeeded in stripping me of all inhibitions, pride and self-respect. I BEGGED her to take pity on me. I swore I’d do ANYTHING if she would only let me CUM. At some point I believe I even wept—though when you’re screeching with demented laughter because someone’s tickling your balls, it’s hard to be sure if you’re actually weeping at the same time. But Dr. Harper paid no heed to my increasingly shrill, desperate and contemptible pleas. She just went right on with her test, or experiment, or WHATEVER the fuck it was, until finally I managed to pass out. It was with an infinite feeling of relief that I let the blackness close over me...

I awoke to the sound of her voice in my ear. It made me start, and I was made instantly aware by a sudden deep-down thrill that my situation had not changed. I was still stretched on the frame, and still subject to stimulation!

“You’ve been an excellent subject, Greg,” Dr. Harper whispered. Her warm breath tickled my ear and made me shiver. “That being the case, I’ve decided to award you a little bonus.”

Only then did I notice that Dr. Harper had shed her professional identity to the extent of removing all her clothes except for hip-hugging black silk panties and high heels. She’d also let her hair down. It just covered her shoulders. She was standing face to face with me, with her rigid nipples brushing my chest. She put her hands on my hips. Immediately I began to exhibit the characteristic male reaction.

“In a little while we’ll move to more comfortable quarters,” she promised. “There’s quite a nice little bedroom in the north wing. I use it when I’m working late. How does that sound, hmmmm?”

“Just fine, Doctor,” I replied in a faint voice.

“Oh, do please call me Priscilla,” she giggled. “After all, we’re going to be getting to know one another VERY well...”

She stepped to one side then, and gave me a playful slap on the butt. It made me wiggle my HIPS—which made the dildo bump my SWEET spot—which made my COCK achieve full erection! Dr. Harper—Priscilla—giggled again.

“How far do you think you can spurt?” she inquired coyly.

But I was given no time to answer—she stepped back a little, put one hand on my yearning member and with the other began to tickle my fucking ARMPIT—!

“GAAAAAAHAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” I screamed as a ticklish thrill shot through my body. “UUUURRRRUUUUNNNNGGGGH!!!” I growled as my renewed struggles made the dildo bump my sweet spot. “GRRRRUUUUGH-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-UGH-AAAAAHH-HAA-HAA-HAA-UGH-UGH-UGH!!!” I bellowed as Dr. Priscilla’s hand slipped back and forth along the length of my straining shaft.

In seconds, my thrashing body was covered with goose bumps that made every hair on my arms and legs stick out like tiny quills. “GGGGRRRRUUUUMMMMPH!!!” I growled deep in my throat as a sensation of sheer orgasmic abandonment gripped my throbbing balls. “UUUURRRRUUUUGH-UGH-UGH-UGH!!!”

Dr. Priscilla’s hand moved faster—then faster still. “Did I mention how much I like muscles?” she whispered.

“OH SHIIII-HIIII-HIIIIT!!!” I cried. “OH-HO-HO-HO!!! OH-FUUUU-HUU-HUUUUKING PLEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEEEESE!!!”

And in the next moment, I arched my back, wiggled my hips and commenced to fucking SQUIRT—!

Releasing a joyous grunt, I shot my load halfway across the room! A roaring wave of sheer ECSTASY swept over me as with Dr. Priscilla’s ardent assistance and the stimulating bump-bump-bump of the dildo, I emptied my balls in a series of muscular, orgasmic, totally GLORIOUS spasms! When finally it ended, I slumped in my bonds, wheezing and shivering. Dr. Priscilla gave me a light kiss on the lips and set about releasing me from the helpless position in which I’d been trapped for so long.

A few minutes later we adjourned to the bedroom—though what happened there over the next few hours I am too much of a gentleman to describe. Suffice to say that Dr. Priscilla and I conducted some very interesting experiments. And she proved to have a very sexy laugh...
 
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Dude:

That is an awesome awesome story. Sort of homophobic myself to be honest so not so sure about the dildo thing but i guess it would work like that. Makes me want to sign up. Either way, outstanding job, very descriptive and erotic and totally keyed in with my own F/m tickling fantasy. Just wanted to let you know I enjoyed it.
 
I agree with young muscle, except for the homophobic part. Nothingi nthe story really bothered me. Except for....nah!!!
 
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