Waste Not, Want Notbyldrequiv©
"Mr. Wardley?" The nurse smiled down at him. "The doctor will see you now."
Tim tossed his magazine aside and followed the young woman down a long hallway perforated by innumerable doorways. Some of the doors bore comprehensible legends, such as LIGHT ROOM or IRRIGATION. Others were festooned with abbreviations he couldn't interpret. The nurse halted before a door labeled PUD IRREG SERV, waved him through, then turned and left.
The room was lined with the usual off-white cabinetry and stainless-steel plumbing fixtures. An ordinary padded examination table sat against one wall. Only two things were notable: a complicated steel and vinyl contraption in the room's center, and a tall, beautiful young blonde woman in a white lab coat who watched him from the far end. She had a clipboard in one hand.
"Is Dr. Arnstein coming?"
The young woman smirked. "She's already here. Hello, Mr. --?"
"Wardley, Tim Wardley." He tried not to stare, but it was difficult. He hadn't been expecting a woman doctor, and definitely not one who looked as if she belonged in a beauty pageant.
"May I call you Tim?" He nodded. "Thank you. Now, I understand you've been having some sexual difficulties?"
"Uh, yes." He stopped short, unsure whether he wanted to describe his troubles to this stunning stranger.
When a few seconds of silence had passed, she frowned, crossed her arms and tapped her foot. He noticed that she was wearing high heels: five-inch stilettos in black patent. The toes were short and pointed. She followed his gaze and smiled.
"They're not as uncomfortable as they look. Now, may I have a few details about your problem, Tim? It will be rather difficult to treat if you don't tell me something about it."
He blushed. "Well, uh, it's been a long time since, uh --"
"Since you last had sex?"
She nodded and scribbled on her clipboard. "Does that trouble you, or have you been avoiding women?"
He clenched his jaws involuntarily. "It troubles me."
"Well, given your youth, I'd say that's normal." She scribbled on her clipboard again. "Do you have a more specific complaint, or just general malaise-of-celibacy?"
He knew his blush was as deep as it could possibly get, so he plunged ahead. His trousers slid to the floor, his belt buckle clinking against the granite tile. His briefs followed.
Her eyes went wide. "Oh, my." She tossed her clipboard aside, crouched before him, and studied his engorged organ at close range. "How long has it been like this?"
"About five days," he mumbled, looking away.
The gentle pressure of her fingers against his erection made him start, and she chuckled. He forced himself to remain rigidly still as she palpated him.
"Have you tried masturbating?"
"Just this morning," he said, eyes fixed on the wall behind her.
"But the condition persisted after you came?"
"I, I couldn't..."
"Never mind, Tim." He finally managed to look at her. Her expression was understanding and kind. "It's more common than you'd imagine. And we do have a therapy for it. Finish undressing and then step over here." She pointed to the complicated apparatus at the center of the room.
At her behest, he doffed his clothes and went to stand with his back against a cradle-like frame of padded struts. She pushed his legs a few inches further apart, then directed him to grab hold of a transverse bar above his head. He complied. She looked him over once more, and pressed a button on the side of the device. Steel restraint rings snapped closed around his wrists and ankles. He gasped and tried to pull free, but in vain.
"Relax, Tim." She pulled a padded restraining strap across his chest and belted it tight. "You're in good hands. I am a doctor, you know."
"What the hell --"
She put a finger to his lips, and he fell silent.
"You have a severe case of acute satyriasis," she said. "It's a painful and embarrassing condition, and there's no reason you should have to suffer with it. But when it's gone on for several days like this, it's not something you can clear up with a hand job, as you've already discovered. It requires the dispersal of the existing tensions before you can bring about release. Just let me do my job, and you'll be feeling better in no time."
Her warm voice and soothing manner allayed his fears. He relaxed as she moved about the cradle making adjustments, tightening a hinge here and a clamp there, and finally turning a knurled knob that compelled him to bend at the waist to about thirty degrees. The angle forced his rump to protrude between the struts behind him.
She stepped lightly around him, and he heard the snap of a rubber glove being pulled on. A moment later, a slippery digit was probing gently at his anus. He forced himself not to twitch or speak as she opened and lubricated his nether passage.
"Now keep quite still for just a second," she said from behind him. Before he could ask why, she had introduced something cool and smooth into his anus. "Push back a little, Tim." He did, and gasped as she slid a long, tapered object deep into his rectum. His anus closed snugly around a narrow neck at its base. His erection felt harder than ever.
"Very good, Tim," she said. "Your problem -- apart from not having had sex lately, of course -- is that the tensions in command of your body have clamped off the vessels that would permit you to expel your semen." She stepped around the apparatus and faced him again. "We're not sure why it happens, but that's the basis of what young men call 'blue balls.' For our first step, we have to relax those tensions. After that, when you can come normally, your discomfort will fade away."
"So how do you, uh, relax the tensions?" The intruder in his rectum made him want to squirm.
"Warmth." She plucked an involved-looking bit of black fabric from a drawer, squatted before him, and wrapped it carefully around his genitals. When she was done, only the head of his penis was exposed. She plugged a small wire into a socket in the device, then rose and pressed a button at the side of his confinement. A low hum sounded in the room.
She watched him with professional interest, seemingly entirely dispassionate, as the rectal probe and genital corset rose in temperature. In less than a minute, he felt as if he were being heated both inside and out, to the temperature of a comfortable bath. Just as she'd said, he felt relaxation spreading through his abdomen and groin. Muscles he didn't even knew he had were slowly releasing their grip.
Only as his consciousness slipped away did he realize that he was losing that as well.
He raised his chin from his chest with considerable difficulty. "Huh? Whassup?"
Dr. Arnstein's blue eyes sparkled impishly at him. "The first stage is over. You've relaxed nicely. We can proceed."
He started, found himself still securely shackled. Dr. Arnstein had pulled a curious-looking device from a drawer and was lubricating it. She made to step behind him when he said, "Wait a minute."
"Can't I, uh, take care of the rest of it myself?"
Her expression went from warm to wounded. "Why, Tim, the way you said that could make me think I'd hurt you! No, you stay just as you are and I'll complete your release myself. After all, what would you do if you got home and only then discovered that you couldn't do the job?"
She held up a hand. "No, I insist." She slipped behind him and pulled the anal probe out of his bottom. "Now, this device is just a hair or two wider, but please don't fight it. Just push back a little as I insert it."
He did, and she eased the new intruder into him. It was wider and less tapered than the previous one. He felt his anal ring stretch to its widest, then quickly relax as it seated itself.
"What's that do?"
"It's a vibratory stimulator for your prostate," she said. "After five days, it won't be enough for you to ejaculate normally once or twice. You've got way too much prostate fluid built up, so I'm going to draw it out. This will help the process along."
A moment later the thing in his rear began to vibrate gently. His penis rose and stiffened again, and he tensed against his restraints. He looked down at himself and saw a drop of clear fluid emerge from his urethra.
Dr. Arnstein came to face him again, saw the clear drip, and nodded in satisfaction. "Just right. Now all it takes is a little time." She laid a warm hand against his chest.
"Uh, how much time?" The vibrations in his bottom were growing stronger. He found himself growing uneasy over the pleasure they gave him.
She shrugged. "Usually about half an hour. Hm." She looked down at the thin stream of clear fluid dripping from his penis, and her hand slid down his torso. "It really would be a shame to waste this, you know."
She wrapped her hand around his erection and dropped to her knees. "May I?"
Before he could speak, she'd closed her lips around the head and was sucking gently.
She released his limp organ and stood up. "We're all done, Tim. Time to get dressed."
He could barely open his eyes. He couldn't move at all. When she removed the restraint cuffs, he fell forward and would have crashed to the floor had she not caught him. She maneuvered him toward a chair against the wall and set him carefully in it.
"Tim, are you okay?"
Rationality was returning to him by degrees. When he remembered where he was and what had been done to him, he flushed bright red and started to stammer. Dr. Arnstein took his face in her hands and made soothing noises until he regained himself.
"It's all right, Tim. The procedure was successful. You can go home and relax for the rest of the evening." She grinned. "Offhand, I'd say that's all you'll be good for."
"Did I...did I..."
"Come? Oh yes, many times. I think I got your prostate completely empty, too. Over the next few days you should try to, ah, exercise yourself a bit, to make sure there was nothing here except a case of blue balls. I'm quite sure that was the case, but it never hurts to be watchful."
There was a glistening trace of moisture on her lips. His?
"Yes? Something else?"
How was he supposed to speak to this gorgeous young woman who'd relieved him so exquisitely? This vision whose hands and mouth had given him so much pleasure that he'd passed out, couldn't yet stand and could barely think? This medical doctor?
"Are you, uh, free this evening?"
"Why, Mister Wardley!" Her eyebrows rose, and she straightened up. "Are you suggesting that ours should be other than a physician-patient relationship?"
He choked. "Well, uh..."
"Well?" She'd crossed her arms and was tapping her foot.
"Yeah, I guess I am."
She grinned again. "Good. Because I am free, and I'm very hungry."
He laughed and let his head loll back. "Got a favorite restaurant? Or would you prefer to go out for drinks first?"
"Oh, I've had my drinks for the evening, thanks. Get dressed and let's find some food."
-- The End --