Predoctoral Partnership

The communal cork board. That most old-fashioned of anonymous communication that persisted in the modern world. Whether you were looking for saxophone lessons or begging the community to keep their eyes peeled for a lost cat... this was where the community asked for help. Even those offering help through the board were looking to get paid something for their assistance. It was very much a quid pro quo relationship.

At some point, some enterprising individual had the idea to make shallow cuts into the bottom of a standard sheet of printer paper. This would turn the bottom section of the page into thin ribbons about the size of a fortune in a fortune cookie. The phone number of the person looking or offering help would be printed vertically on each slip. Even before the days of smart phones, nobody was good at memorizing phone numbers.

There was a tear-off flyer just like that on this board, pinned low enough that the ribbons in the bottom rolled in the win like eager waving fingers. Rather than offering dogwalking, car washes or duct cleaning services, this particular flyer was offering something different.

"Want a bigger penis?"

Bee found herself staring at the flyer. Nothing else on the board was remotely this salacious. Any attempt to use this board for prostitution must have been deeply encrypted. Maybe they called themselves 'babysitters' to filter out all but the frustrated married men.

The flyer advertised a quick, painless and injection-free method for increasing penis size. It said the effects might be temporary, but it was shown to be effective in almost all cases. It said to visit such-and-such a place, Monday through Friday between 9 and 5.

Somehow... nobody had taken a single slip from the bottom of this page.

This was on the bulletin board outside the convenience store just off campus, nearest a popular bus stop whose route took them past affordable off-campus rental properties and back into the city. If you wanted to inform the campus at large about your band playing at a coffee shop or your agonizing improv show... this was the place to do it. Even the flyer looking for volunteers for the allergy study had most of its slips taken. Then again, that one did offer free pizza. Hopefully, none of the volunteers were allergic to pizza.

It still puzzled Bee how there had been NO volunteers for a painless procedure to make your dick bigger, on this campus of thousands of dick owners and large dick enthusiasts. Maybe the modern college student was too savvy to fall for an obvious prank. Maybe all the frat boys were throwing off the average penis size. Maybe there was indelible ink on the backside of the number slips, marking anyone who touched them forevermore as a chode.

Bee brought her smart phone out of her purse and slyly took a picture of the flyer. If anyone saw her do this, she'd just say she was taking a picture for the Internet. Why else would she be doing this?

Before she left the area... she got a close-up picture of the address.

---

Bee eventually found the location of this doctor's office, a small commercial park on the outskirts of the city. It looked like the sort of place a doctor's office might be... but wouldn't choose to be. A large strip of one-floor brick buildings in an area with low property value, it was surrounded by trucking companies, bank call centers and what was euphemistically called a 'transfer station,' but was really just a junkyard. The bus line out here didn't even connect to the main bus station. It perhaps indicated that those that lived out here never had any business in the big city, for whatever reason.

She stepped in through the main entrance, which was nothing more than a single door propped open with a wooden doorstop to keep it from automatically locking. There was no front desk, just a series of hallways with other doors. She slipped towards the back of the building, passing a few other small businesses and offices before finding the right office at the end of the hall near a fire exit.

There was a single piece of paper affixed to the front of the door with a bit of painter's tape. In big bold letters and a variety of obnoxious fonts, the sign said, "Study for Penis Size Increase Within. Please Come In!" The creator of the sign thankfully had restrained themselves from using any suggestive clipart.

The sign almost stopped Bee from entering. If there was ever a door a man would not want anyone to see them entering, this would be it. She looked around the vicinity to see if there were any cameras on her. She didn't find any. Maybe they were well hidden.

With a deep breath, she turned the doorknob and entered.

Bee entered the smallest waiting room she'd ever been in, smaller than most bedrooms or dorm rooms she'd seen. There was enough room for the receptionist's desk, a couch across from said desk, and a door between the two. That was it. No windows, one old CRT in the corner that wasn't turned on, and a pile of old magazines on the accent table under the television. There wasn't even the obligatory potted plant, that optimistic expression of the continuance and persistence of life. After all... it wouldn't get any sun in here.

The secretary was sat in the wheeled office chair behind the desk, twirling a lock of blonde hair in her fingers. She was looking at her laptop, but slammed it shut as Bee entered the waiting room.

"Hello!" The secretary rose from her seat, hand still on top of her laptop, as if it would jump away if not held in place. "Do you have an appointment to see the doctor?"

Bee tensed. "No, I just saw this flyer..." She showed the secretary the picture on her phone. "Am I in the right place?"

"Yes, you are." The secretary nodded. She spoke in an English accent. This must serve her quite well when talking to people over the phone... but then those people would be deprived at seeing such a lovely woman. She was a classic beauty with long eyelashes visible even behind her glasses, nice pouty lips and a deep line of cleavage running down her shirt from her low-cut blazer. Bee estimated her age to be maybe twenty-five. In reality, not too much older than her, but in the world of college students, where the time between eighteen and twenty-one seemed so large... it could perhaps be called a generational gap.

"Is the doctor in?" Bee asked.

The secretary looked up at the visitor. She was a slender and fair woman with long red hair tucked under a gray toque. She had a hooded sweatshirt and skirt worn over leggings. Her purse was fashionably small, but not obnoxiously so. Unlike other women of her age that had wandered into her office... she did not have a book bag.

"She'll be right with you, but I should warn you..." The secretary warned her. "This is an in-person treatment only. You can't leave here with a pill or anything, so you can't bring it back for your boyfriend."

Bee blushed. "I don't have a boyfriend."

The secretary stared for a moment before the light bulb went off. "Oh! You're a..."

Bee nodded softly.

The secretary got out from behind her desk, nearly sweeping Bee into the next room. "Come on in! The doctor will be with you shortly." She opened the door to the office's sole examination room, a room just as small, with the little paper-covered bench and cabinets undoubtedly filled with medical supplies. The secretary closed the door behind her, leaving Bee in here alone.

She looked around the tiny room. There was a wheeled stool, probably for the doctor to sit on while examining the patient. All the walls that didn't have cabinets were covered with printed diagrams and charts. One was an illustrated diagram of the woman represented as half-skeleton, half-organs. There was a chart about the signs of heatstroke. There was even an eye chart, but no chair to sit in to view it properly. This room was too small to measure eyesight in any meaningful way. What an odd thing to have in here, even if just for decoration.

Bee knew what someone was supposed to do in this situation. She was supposed to undress so the doctor could examine her properly. But she wasn't ready just yet. She took her purse off her shoulder and sat down on the weird stiff paper, waiting patiently for the doctor to appear.

She didn't have to wait that long. The doctor burst into the room, still throwing her doctor's coat over her small black camisole. It was the secretary.

"Hello!" She said, tossing her hair over her shoulders to get it out from under the coat. "I'm Dr. Maddick, but you can please call me Robin. I hate the formality of being called 'Doctor.'"

Bee scanned her up and down. With her light blonde hair, glasses and shockingly fine body, she looked like someone dressed up as a doctor in a porno, without whatever negative connotations that might invoke. Then again, someone like her might struggle to be taken seriously in the male-dominated medical profession. And here was Bee thinking that she might not even be a doctor.

"You're the doctor AND the secretary?" She asked.

"Someone has to answer the phones when m'secretary has the day off." Robin said breathlessly, as if she'd run a great distance to get that coat.

Before Robin closed the door, the phone at the front desk started to ring. Both of them turned their heads towards the sound.

Robin turned back, letting the door close behind her. "They'll leave a message, I'm sure." Robin said. She grabbed a clip board from a nearby counter and looked at it. "So, what brings you in today?"

Bee bashfully brought up her smart phone image again. "I saw... this."

Robin inspected the picture carefully. "So you're here for the penis enlarging procedure?" Her accent put the lexical stress on the word 'you're,' as if it was such an oddity.

Bee just nodded, setting her phone face-down on the examination table.

Robin adjusted her glasses. "Well, I'll have to see the specimen, to see if you qualify for the procedure."

How horrible would it be if someone didn't qualify for such a thing? Nevertheless, Bee unzipped and removed her skirt. This revealed why someone might wear a skirt over leggings, other than fashion: her leggings held her package mostly in place. She shuffled her leggings down to her knees, exposing her flaccid cock.

Robin's face was immediately in Bee's lap, inspecting her penis closely. Robin brought a classroom ruler up against it, the icy metallic edge touching her skin and making her jump a bit.

"Six and a half inches..." She said aloud. "That's not a bad hang at all for a completely flaccid penis."

"I've seen a lot bigger..." Bee said. "Some chicks are really carrying pipe around."

"I understand. The aesthetics of a large flaccid penis flopping around as she walks is undeniable." Robin said. "But needless to say, the real important measure is that of the erect penis. We'll have to gather that information."

Without a moment's delay, Robin undid the button on her coat beneath the first one, opening a vent underneath her breasts. She took Bee's cock and slid it inside there, in between her tits. Bee gasped in shock, head bucking backwards.

"If you'd rather do this with a pill, we can do that." Robin suggested. "But those pills can take time to move through the bloodstream, and it's rather late in the day. This will be faster. Is that OK?"

"O-Of course, yes." Bee gasped.

"Besides..." Robin held her tits together as Bee's tip appeared between them as she thrust them up and down. "I've never known any futa who needed the little blue pill."

Robin continued to knead her tits around Bee's cock, sliding against her skin as it grew damp with sweat. It might have been Bee's imagination, but she thought she saw her bite her lip and let a bit of color appear on her cheeks.

"You feel... quite erect at the moment." The doctor said."Please let me know when you are completely erect so we can take the measurement."

Bee huffed, eyes rolled back in her head. She did not respond.

Neither did Robin let up on the kneading. She reiterated, "Just let me know when you're ready for the new measurement."

More full-breathed moans and shuddering from Bee.

"Please, just--"

Bee grunted hard and ejaculated. Robin brought her mouth down on Bee's tip just in time to stop it from spraying all over the place, only letting a single spurt of come spray across her cheekbone and glasses. The rest inexorably flowed into her mouth and down her throat as she gulped down Bee's hot seed. Once she was empty, Robin slid the cock out from her shirt and pulled out a handkerchief form her pocket to wipe her glasses clean.

When Bee's senses returned to her, she leaned back up. "Sorry." She said softly. "I... sort of got lost in the moment."

"That's OK." Robin reset her glasses on her face and she wiped the blob of spunk from her cheek as casually as wiping away a crumb from the corner of your mouth. "I... only did that to stop a mess being made. It's just me here today, so... as you can imagine, if I had a choice between cleaning up and just swallowing all your..." Robin looked lost in space for a second. "Yes, I vastly prefer this to cleaning up."

Bee leaned back on her her elbows. She felt a sweat drop run down the back of her neck. She didn't often feel so much better after a doctor visit... or during!

Robin buttoned up her coat again, each stitch and button stretched out by her large chest. "Perhaps that technique is overkill if all I need is a client to achieve an erection."

Bee's head looked down to herself. She was still quite aroused, a few understated veins on her pale skin, the tip moist and almost purple in shade.

Robin eyed the cock with the some admiration. "Then again..." She ran her fingertips along the underside of the cock. "This still looks like a full erection... in my expert opinion. You're still rock hard."

Bee stared at her, as if to say, 'can you blame me?!'

"Are you ready to be measured?" Robin held the ruler up near her face.

Bee nodded her head. Robin got down and ran the ruler parallel to Bee's cock. It was pulsing hard, almost slipping out of Robin's hands.

"Hmm..." Robin looked close. "Eleven... and a half?"

Bee looked down. "And a half?"

Robin closed one eye and got even closer. "It's moving around a bit, but... it's almost at three-eighths. But why round down when measuring penises?"

"I thought I was eleven, flat." Bee said. She was stunned. Was this already working, even if the gain was minimal?

"Oh, you've measured before?"

"Hasn't everyone?" Bee folded her hands in her lap. "I, uh... my only futa girlfriend liked to gloat because she was thirteen inches. She called me a sub-twelve."

Robin's mouth fell open. "How horrid. What a thing to say..."

"I think she picked it up from the Internet."

"I am not a marriage counselor or relationship therapist... but if I may dispense with some non-medical advice..." Robin looked up at her. "They are your exes for a reason."

"Yeah..." Bee averted her eyes. "It's because she dumped me for being sub-twelve."

"Well, good riddance." Robin said. "I can't see why someone wouldn't want to spend time with you and your beautiful cock."

Bee's pale face turned red again.

"Oh, right..." Robin apologized. "I'm not supposed to call it a 'cock.' Well, no matter. It's lovely and huge, and I could just sit here staring at it all day."

With a dexterous sweep of her leg, Robin brought over her wheeled stool underneath herself and sat down on it. She put one elbow on the examination table next to Bee and leaned her head against it. She smiled, sighed, bit her fingernail... all while staring at Bee's erection as if it would start telling jokes.

"Is this the procedure?" Bee asked, toes pointing towards each other. "Does staring make it bigger?"

"I'd never considered that." Robin's eyes widened, looking back at Bee's face. "Let's see if it's worked so far." She lined the ruler up again. "Not so far... but maybe I need to do some more staring..."

"Is this like that episode of The Simpsons, where Bart gets out of mowing the lawn because he's working on a science project that's just him watching a sliced potato in water that won't realistically sprout for days?"

"I'm afraid I've never seen The Simpsons." Robin said. "We didn't really watch it where I'm from."

"Do they watch close ups of big erections?"

"Slow TV comes in many varieties." She brought the ruler up again for just a moment, and then checked her watch. "It might be too late in the day to see if this will have any effect." She set the ruler up one last time noticing no difference in size from ten seconds ago. "We might have to work on more reliable and proven techniques."

Robin stood up and went over to the other side of the small room. For some reason, this made Bee nervous. The flyer did promise that this procedure was 'injection-free.'

"What do you have in mind?" Bee asked.

"One thing that has shown to elicit at least a temporary increase in penis size is negative air pressure." The doctor explained. "We normally have one of those special pumps here to assist with that. Unfortunately..." She opened a drawer in the examination table. It was filled almost to the top with unwrapped tongue depressors. "It seems my secretary took that home with her. Not sure why. Sadly, this means we will have to improvise."

Bee clenched her teeth, not willing to state the obvious. "How will we do that?"

"There seems to be no option; I will have to use my mouth." Robin said. "Doctors are always putting their bodies on the line for their patients. I used my ample natural bosom earlier. My mouth is no different."

Bee stared down at the bespectacled blonde, her head resting eagerly in her lap. "You're going to give me a blowjob?"

"I'm going to apply negative pressure across your whole penis with my mouth." Robin said sternly, with a hint of the attitude a nerd correcting the term 'comic book' to 'graphic novel.'

"What if I have another orgasm?"

"I'll try to be as gentle as I can."

Bee clenched her teeth. "So you'll be giving me a... long, slow blowjob?"

"All for the benefit of giving you a larger penis." Robin clarified, evidently unwilling to say what was about to happen so plainly. "Unless you're having second thoughts."

Bee waved both hands. "No, no. No no no." She said rapidly. "You're the medical professional. If you think this is what you should do... then let's do it."

Robin immediately got to work, opening her mouth wide and pulling her lips across them, reuniting them into a kiss. She did this repeatedly, as if eating a lollipop exclusively with her lips. She fit the entire tip in her mouth and sucked in, breathing out through her nose. She dragged her lips back across the tip until her puckered lips were right atop Bee's cockhole. Then she went back down, taking the entire head back in her mouth and applying gentle suction.

Bee huffed and groaned. She felt as the vacuum Robin created with her lungs drew blood into her cock... for only a moment. She certainly wasn't being as unforgivingly powerful as a pump would be. This was much more pleasant, the gentle touch one could expect from a sympathetic medical professional.

Robin's jaw lowered, pushing the tip further into her mouth. She drew in a few harder breaths, but the head might have been about as swollen as it could reasonably get. It didn't seem to be working... except in causing Bee to make some embarrassing noises.

Having done all she could for the head, Robin removed it from her mouth and brought her head lower. She sucked each of Bee's balls into her mouth one at a time. Bee swore that she could feel them growing for just a moment. It didn't last, but she felt her balls tingle and quake as her body got her ready for another orgasm.

Robin hadn't yet explained the purpose of her continuous lapping and tongue-bathing of Bee's balls as she held her cock up, like she was eating an ice cream cone upside down. She'd even backed off and pushed Bee's legs into the air, holding them aloft behind the knees as she rolled her tongue around her balls. Maybe this was important to the procedure... somehow. Maybe it was also rubbing the side of her tongue against the shaft, with a quick flick on the tip as she brought it back down.