Be Careful Who You Trust

"Very active. I do not know a number, but many."

"Over twenty? Over fifty? Over one hundred?"

Asked Riley.

"Over one hundred for sure."

Said Oliver, puffing with pride. And Riley thought "You man-slut! I probably should not help you...".

"Frequency?"

"Pretty much at least twice a week since I started. But that is the minimum."

"Usually the same partner?"

"No. Usually a different partner."

Again said Oliver, proud of himself. And once again Riley thought "Forget not helping you. I should do much worse..."

"How frequently do you use protection when having sex with your partners? Always? Never? A different percentage?"

"Well it varies."

Said Oliver.

"Varies on what? Please specify."

Instructed Riley who gave clinical but seductive looks at Oliver with some regularity. She was a fuckable escort for sure, thought Oliver. But she was more self-assured and assertive than what he was used to. And if anything he liked that even more. Even as he felt increasingly violated, naked in body and increasingly naked in his sexuality too.

"Some I always have sex with condoms. Some I never do. I never sleep with married women using condoms for example. Nor with rich daddy's girls either. Others, I am more cautious with."

Riley had seen and heard a lot. But the casual indifference Oliver said what he just said made her lift her eyebrows and have a look at him. "So, the poor unattached women are too dirty and hungry for you to fuck unprotected. But the rich attached ones you don't give a shit to leave diseased or knocked up because they have too much to lose to give you any shit about it?! Do I get that right? I guess you are a disgusting pig either way!" Thought Riley.

"Any history of STDs? We'll determine whether you currently have any with tests."

"None"

And Oliver thought that was an innocent white lie. What he once got, he had long ago resolved with antibiotics.

"When you have sex with your partners, how frequently do you top and how frequently do you bottom? And I don't mean spatially."

Continued Riley.

"I always top."

Said very confidently Oliver. And Riley thought, it definitely felt too confident, like overcompensating. She had some experience that will help her confirm her theory about that one.

"Do you have any fetishes? Objects, actions, or circumstances that trigger arousal or even orgasm for you?"

"Well... I like good looking women on their backs with their legs spread out..."

Said Oliver.

And once again Riley though that was a deflective non-answer. Particularly because he was obviously aroused right now form being interrogated by her while he stood naked before her. So she decided to carry out a little test. Riley unfolded and woke up her tablet computer, quickly syncing it with what was on the screen of her desktop. She stood up from her chair. And going around to the front of her desk, she leaned against it, tablet in hand, where she was a good yard plus closer to Oliver. And where his view of her was unobstructed.

As she leaned her pencil skirt clad buttocks against her desk, without really sitting on it, the fabric stretched taught over her pelvis and around her hips. So did the fabric of her button down shirt over her chest. She also stretched her thigh-high clad svelte legs, otherwise only covered to above the knee, before her. She crossed her right ankle over her left. And she let her right pump dangle off her right foot, resting its heel on the floor. Then she slowly, seductively swung it left and right like a wiper blade. And she watched Oliver as his eyes dropped through her whole body. Face, chest, waist, hips, pelvis, legs, and feet. Stopping at the feet entranced by her foot and shoe show like a charmed snake. Moreover, she observed as his penis flexed, and a droplet of precum came to its tip while he watched. And when all of a the sudden she professionally but firmly snaped at him.

"Stand straight and hold onto the table behind you. This is a physical as well as an interview."

He did instantly as directed before he had an opportunity to catch himself. And his penis flexed and leaked even more. And Riley, looking straight into Oliver's obviously embarrassed and yet resentful eyes, said.

"I want you to think about the answers to the last two questions very carefully. And when you come back for our next appointment, I want us to revisit them. I expect you to be honest to yourself and me next time."

And she could see the stung look on Oliver Jones's eyes! He clearly was not used to being seen right through.

Indeed Oliver quickly realized the sexy doctor had laid a trap for him and he had fallen right into it. He was not a man used to blaming himself so he was angry at her for it. But he did realize what he had said: always top, no fetishes. Yet when she put on that leg, stocking, foot and heel show for him, his eyes and manhood betrayed him. When she snapped at him to stand straight and hold onto the examination bed, his body and manhood betrayed him. And he was incredibly frustrated he could not undo that betrayal. So what? Nothing wrong with enjoying a little bottoming, and a few little feminine jewels like feet and heels every now and then. He would still bend the hot blonde escort over her own desk and show her what a man like him can do to her!

What Oliver did not know, was that in the wars of seduction front, Riley Nowak was more than well armed too. Soon after she became engaged with her husband, Riley had demanded he acknowledge—not "allow", since it was her choice---her freedom to see other men. Or it would be best if they called the engagement off. Ben was a little hurt, but he agreed. He recognized Riley was a one of a kind woman. And had assumed there was going to be a price to pay to be with her sooner or later. So Riley was officially a hotwife since before she was even married. What her husband did not know however, at first at least, was she was no plain vanilla kind of hotwife.

The lovers Riley took rarely got anything but teasing, humiliation and denial from her. Some of her lovers did not even know that at first either, but they all ended up there. Till over the years Riley ended up with a stable of about 6, or 5, or 7 men who had no sexual life other than wait in chastity for their own pitiful turn to worship at her feet. And whatever she was giving them with that, was somehow more than enough. Since none ever wanted out. And whatever she had over each and every one of them was also damning enough, none of her sordid affairs ever got out either. In short, she had all her pets, sexually and socially, by the balls. A couple were medical colleagues. One was a businessman friend of her husband. One was a famous local elected politician. Regardless, she had learned how to play men like a violin. And she was living her life to the fullest following that observation by that French revolution era writer and philosopher Madame de Stael who once wrote that "The desire of man is for a woman. But the desire of a woman is for the desire of men." So, in any case, in addition to one the world's top andrologists, Oliver faced one of the world's most irresistible femdom hotwives. And he did not even know how much at a disadvantage he actually was.

"We are moving on to the full physical examination now."

Said Riley as she reached for her medical lab coat, and put it on.

Oliver thought he had always liked that look. Not the white lab coat look. But the short coat of any kind over a short skirt or dress look. Plenty business, law and other white-collar women wore that look using rain, fall or winter coats over pencil skirts like Riley's. When they buttoned the coat up sometimes you could not see a skirt at all. Only a coat whose hemline was above the knee. It made him fantasize those women had nothing but high end lingerie underneath. They were all high class escorts after all. Like Dr Nowak. Thought Oliver.

Then Riley reached to an examination glove box in a shelf to the side of her room. And pulling two blue nitrile gloves from the box, pulled them both over her fingers and hands. Oliver was not as sure about that look. In fact it made him shiver in trepidation a bit. Because he understood that meant she was about to handle his big guy. And he figured if she was about to do so, he rather she do it with her bare hands like a good escort anyway. He was paying her better than most escorts. Yet misogynist or not, he knew that gloves were standard medical practice. And yet it did make him feel dehumanized, objectified, in a surprisingly arousing way. Which disturbed him.

As Riley walked towards Oliver, somehow the athletic 200lbs 6'2" man felt completely cowed by the willowy 120lbs 5'7" woman. And he did not like it a bit. And the more, in his confusion, he got angry at her. From her always seeming to have the psycho-socio-sexual drop on him. The more he wanted to think of her as the "high class escort doctor". Somehow in his misogynistic mind he hoped that reasserted his primacy. His masculinity. But it did not work. And he knew it. Yet, he kept calling her the "escort" in his mind anyway.

As soon as Riley reached less than a foot away from him, she stared into his eyes without so much as blinking. And the first thing she said, before she even touched him, was.

"I know you came here over a different issue. But have you ever considered surgical penis enlargement? You do not have a micropenis. But you are probably an inch below average. I am sure you would prefer being above average."

The bitch!!! Predictably thought Oliver. Below average my ass! And yet his penis seemed to pulse at Dr Nowak's words, which were medically accurate. And another pearl of precum formed at the top of his head.

"I am fine as I am..."

Managed to spit out Oliver. Riley meanwhile thought to herself. "Another one to take note off. For a man that seems to think he has no fetishes he certainly is racking them up: CFNM. Feet, legs, heels and nylons. Submission. SPH..."

"Ok."

She simply answered. And Riley Nowak then proceeded to reach for Oliver Jones. And grab him by the penis.

First she made sure his foreskin was fully pulled back, which he had intact. Unusual for an American man. Much more common with Europeans, Latin Americans, and others. But for her purposes, it was so much better. There were 4000 nerve endings in the human penis head, the glans penis. And a membrane only six cells thick separated those nerve endings from the outside world. At least in an uncircumcised man. In a circumcised man it could be twice as many cells. By comparison a human fingertip had 3000 nerve endings. And a layer of skin 30 cells thick separated them from the outside world. So the penis head was bar none the most sensitive few square inches in a man's body. And when she reached to start her examination of Oliver's manhood, starting with his penis head, he could not help but go.

"Ohhhhhh! Ummmmmmm! Sorry Doctor! Eeeeeeee!"

As she slowly and systematically, began to touch her way down, slow fraction of an inch by slow fraction of an inch, as she examined him by a method that was half medical best practice, half brutal edging. Just because she knew how to, and she could. "Payback is a bitch, is it not?" Thought Riley. "Just you wait till I have been at it for a few minutes, you prick!" She thought moreover. "You are going to hanker for satisfaction. Or wish you were dead!"

Indeed she knew the concentration of nerve endings got even higher as she got closer to the crown of the head. And she had to curtly tell her patient.

"Hold on to the bed behind you and stand up straight."

As he buckled under the attention of her surgical gloved hands.

He was so erect so quickly the skin of his penis looked ready to rip apart. And indeed after she had brought him to near exploding point having finished examining the tissues of the head of his penis, she recalled the membrane under the skin of the shaft of the penis, the tunica albuginea, did sometimes rip. It was called penis fracture, it made a popping sound, and it hurt like a bitch. It happened when a fully erect penis experienced too much torque. Like when forced downwards, or forced in opposite directions along the middle. Like when you snap a stick. It was a common sexual intercourse accident when a man was being ridden by a woman in the cowgirl position, and in a moment of passion, the woman fell backwards too hard and too fast. A surgeon like her then needed to peel the injured penis back like a banana, suture the ripped membrane, and suture the peeled skin back on again. And as she slowly felt her way down the shaft of Oliver Jones' penis, she lazily thought about how vulnerable the penis in her hand was right now.

Even as she simply continued examining him using her tormenting examination/edging hybrid.

"Mmmmmmm"

Oliver Jones continued. Holding tight onto the examination bed behind him. Biting his lips.

"Oliver, you are thirty five, and I take it this is the first genital/pelvic physical you have had in a while."

"Rrrrrr. Yes. Ummmm."

"Normally after forty it is recommended yearly for men. But for you maybe now is a good time to start. I am checking for any unusual growths in addition to any structural issues that may be affecting your sexual performance. You do not want any cancerous growth to go untreated for too long, or removal of much of the tissue becomes the only option."

Removal of much of the tissue! She can't be serious! Then again, she did not say it was necessary. Only that it becomes necessary when cancerous growths go untreated.

In any case as she kept sexually tormenting Oliver, Riley was finding nothing anatomically unusual about him. No structural reason for erectile dysfunction she could feel, thought her examination was only beginning. No unusual growths either. She was still too professional to jump to conclusions, but more and more she felt his main problem was extreme stress, performance anxiety, and being a closeted malesub. The later, she did intend to exploit to the fullest, and unman him mentally that way.

Being done with his penis Riley took and a moment to look deep into Oliver eyes. See the fog, the haze, in them. And she took a moment to think to herself. "Good. You asshole."

She then reached down, and cupped Oliver's scrotum. And smirked when he went.

"Ooooaahhhh!"

In surprise. She compared the size of his two testes. The right one was bigger and hung lower. She checked that they traveled easily in their scrotal sacks. She even gently counted vessels in the bundle that attached to his testes behind them, the spermatic cord, carrying blood in and out, packing nerves, and carrying sperm out to the prostate. She did find that maybe Oliver's testes, were not as fully attached to the walls of the scrotum as they should be.

Oliver was rapidly losing the ability to think of the sexy doctor as an escort. Or to think about anything at all, really. He vaguely felt she was toying with him. Teasing him. Taunting him. But he wasn't sure. He felt violated. But somehow he enjoyed it. He did not want to feel enjoyment from being violated, since that was likely also making the blonde doctor's point he enjoyed being bent by a woman. Kind of like her foot and shoe test had. Which he hated her for. But whatever she was doing grappling and rolling his testes around felt so good! He still had a hard time staying quiet.

"Ummmm...."

Not fully secured testes were not necessarily a concern. Riley recalled. They did leave a terrible vulnerability though. Too loose a testicle could become tangled by its own spermatic cord, wrapped around it like a noose to the neck. It was called testicular torsion, and it also hurt like a bitch. Again, the only sure fire way to resolve it was to peel the scrotal skin back, and get in there to untangle the mess. Since if the torsion was not resolved, the testicle could die. And then there was only course of action after that. Men were truly so vulnerable! Riley lazily thought again, as she toyed with her patient's testes in the palm of her hand.

She did not tell her patient anything about her suspicion though. She was determined to finish the physical, do an ultrasound, and send Oliver Jones for a detailed 3D scan at the imaging lab before she thoroughly studied everything. And then she would assess what she wanted to do with this particular man's, the enemy of her family, manhood.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm"

Oliver Jones cried almost ferally in frustrated despair as Riley finally let go of his scrotum. Looking him in the eye as he seemed to bend over to a smaller stature than her. She did make up some of her height disadvantage with her stiletto pumps. But there was more to it than that. Clearly her half medical examination, half sexual tease and social taunt, of his manhood was having its intended effect. And the prick man seemed reduced before her. Shoulders hunched. Not quite certain what cruelty she was doing to him, or why.

"Oliver, turn around, put your hands on the examination bed, and bend over. Then I need you to relax."

She, said as she squeezed lubricant on her gloved right hand from a bottle.

No, not that! Thought Oliver as he feared he knew what was coming next. Maybe he should just say this was all a mistake? Say thank you and walk out? But even as she looked even more as a woman he wanted to see on her knees orally servicing him, she also had the look of a woman with steel in her eyes that would brook no bullshit. And despite her petite size, a woman who would not let him walk out right now either. And indeed, no sooner had he done as instructed, he felt her delicate hand forcing its way past his anal sphincter.

"Oh fuck!"

He fully constructed the words this time. As Riley, behind his back this time, allowed herself a gloating smile. She pushed her way in as far as she needed to, and groped for her patient's seminal vesicles. Enjoying, as she felt him feel his masculinity threatened. They seemed fine, on either side and on top of his prostate, where they should be. So she then went for the prostate, which was bigger and provided much more surface to explore.

"Sorry doc! Oh fuck! Ummmm..."

Whimpered her patient. As she explored it left and right, high and low. Unfortunately, but as she suspected, there seemed nothing wrong with Oliver Jones' internal sexual organs. Though once again she recalled that trauma to the prostate sometimes occurred in traffic and other accidents. That hematomas developed that made it hard to pee, and that it hurt like a bitch. And that as usual, she would have to get in there to fix the mess. Save what she could. Or not. In fact, in the separate context of cancer treatment, prostate removals were one of her most common surgeries. So by this point she could do one blindfolded with one hand tied behind her back.

Truly, men were so vulnerable. Fragile. Brittle even.

She knew of one spot in the prostate that would force Oliver to ejaculate involuntarily. So she was careful not to probe it too much yet. As she had a different plan for that spot...

So pulling her hand out of the deplorable man, god's gift to women, corrupt cheat patient, she said to him.

"I'll have a look at everything again with an ultrasound probe now."

And left her patient bent over, trying to recover his sense of dignity and masculinity. Which he was failing to do.

The ultrasound monitor cart was just to the side of the examination bed. And a phallic like probe connected to the monitor via a long cable. She actually put a condom over the probe and lathered it with a gel like lubricant. And when Oliver had enough presence to turn around and look at the machine more carefully he winced. And a tear emerged from the corner of his eye. As he considered no matter where that probe went, the idea of an electronic penis near his sexual organs did not sit well with him at all.