The Physicians' Tale

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"Yeah," I stalled, " I have really good time-management skills, I guess."

"How so?"

"I have a lot of hook-ups. Different guys. I call them for sex, they give me sex, they go home," I answered. "I mean, a few girls, too, but they're more like friends, I guess? Anyhow, my girl-sex has always been more recreational, the men seem more related to the hormones."

"Ah," the nurse nodded. "And these men, how many would you say there are?"

I counted off on my fingers.

"Um, I don't know, ten or so? A few Not all at once, this was spread over a few months," I said, defensively and grossly underestimating.

The nurse checked a few more boxes.

"So, can you confirm the following sex acts you performed or had performed on your person, and which brought you to orgasm consistently?" She asked, without emotion.

"Penetrative, heterosexual Vaginal sex,"

"Yes to the sex, yes to to orgasm," I answered.

"Multiple simultaneous partners?" This seemed unusual to ask...the first time I'd heard it in the many times I'd been involved in medical testing.

"Yes," I said shyly "and yes."

"Highest number of multiple partners?"

I looked away, embarrassed.

"5," I whispered.

"Five?," she repeated "what genders?"

I sighed again. "Which time?"

She smirked for the first time, and wrote something I couldn't see.

"Good to keep a varied sexual diet," she joked, her hazel eyes shining at me.

"Anal?" she asked.

"Yes, please," I ventured.

I was rewarded with a genuine laugh.

"Can I just go ahead and check the rest of these boxes?" she asked, leaning forward so I could almost see down her stretched-to-the-limit sweater. "Is there anything that doesn't make you come?" she asked.

I looked down and blushed, only a partial put-on.

"Now, let's move to self-manipulation," the nurse said, tapping the clipboard.

How do you self pleasure? Manually, or using implements?"

"Both?" I said uncertainly. "Kind of depends on where I am. Magic Wand at home, hands and...whatever's around...elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?"

"Uh, yeah." I answered, but she didn't press for details.

Those hormones were really strong, ok? So a few times I was on the train, and some perv would rub against me, and I'd...just kinda let him. And then push against him harder until I came, or threaten to scream for police if he didn't rub me until I finished. Or, I'd be in a secluded area of the library, and the wainscoting ends at just the right height. Or, you know, I'd smell the lacrosse team run by and slide a hand under this big poncho that I thought looked really good, and had not bought exclusively for that purpose.

"Well," the nurse finally said, "let's get you up on the table," she smoothed out the thin hospital sheet, bending so slightly to show the curve of her ass.

I stepped up on the metal table.

"Do I need to undress?"

She laughed out loud this time.

"You've done enough of that, young lady," she smiled. "If it becomes necessary, we can take off your panties, but for now, just your top."

I stripped off my shirt. I didn't wear a bra back then.

The nurse reached out and massaged some lubricant onto my nipples.

"You're going to feel a little cold," she said, placing these little rubber disks connected by a wire on them.

I nodded. But I felt the opposite of cold. I felt warm. The little device on my tits felt like they were a milking machine, suckling my nipples and sending waves of pleasure directly to my cunt.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Ok," I answered.

"Ah," the nurse said. "I'm going to turn it up, ok?"

She turned a dial and the sucking became more intense, almost painful. I cried out just a little, and she wrote something down. The pain receded, and was replaced by a...much more interesting feeling.

"Good," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," I answered. "Um, relaxed?" Every cell in my tits was vibrating with want. I was already mentally parsing through the options of who to call for some relief afterward, a peculiar mathematics of cock circumference against sexual prowess. The feeling was spreading, too, this warmth of lust rushing down my body.

"Sexual response? Please be honest, we need it for the research" she said. She stroked my forehead the way nurses do to calm nervous patients.

"It's amazing," I moaned and smiled, "I get to keep this thing, right? That's what I was told,"

"Be more specific," she ordered.

"It feels like two people sucking on my nipples the way I wish they could,"

"That's something you've done before?" She asked

I nodded "Yeah, yeah, but they always get distracted. This is..."

I shivered a little, from cold, from pleasure, from imagining her full lips sucking me as steadily as the cups she'd placed on me.

" I could probably orgasm from just this," I admitted.

She turned the dial again and I couldn't control the moan that escaped my body.

"Wonderful," the nurse said. "I'm going to take your panties off now, ok?"

I nodded, quick, gripping the hand rails of the table. Her hands grazed my hips as she pulled my underwear off, and I instinctively raised them, wanting more. The nurse, as if she anticipated my reaction, gave me a little wink but dodged me.She placed a small, oval device on my mound. It began to pulse, and I was at the brink.

"Would you like to insert the device?" the nurse asked, impassive.

"Yes, please!" I practically shouted, and she complied. The sucking on my nipples grew stronger, the pulsing inside me became more intense, and I'm not proud of it, but....

The nurse bit my lower lip and giggled when I grabbed her face and kissed her hard, pushing my tongue inside her mouth. I buried my fingers in her braided hair and nipped at her neck, pushing her head to let her bite mine, hard.

"Shall I take off my top, ma'am?" she asked.

I didn't give her a chance to answer, instead tearing her shirt open myself. I pushed my face into her breasts, which were huge, glowing, pillowy, searching her with my tongue until I found her nipples, darker, wider and sweeter than I'd guessed.

Just at the moment of the best orgasm I have ever had, as I felt the electricity of desire pulse through me, curl my toes, I felt, no, tasted, milk trickle into my mouth. I twitched, rubbed my clit for a few good after-shocks, and they lay back, the nurse's milk dripping from my lips.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry about that," I said, starting to wiggle the device out of my vagina.

"I didn't mean...I just lost control."

"It's absolutely fine," the nurse said, re-buttoning her shirt. "It's part of the treatment, anyway.The hormonal balance of a woman who has already had the treatment makes it more effective," she said, gesturing toward my tits.

Which had doubled in size.

"What?" I panicked, sitting up too quickly, pulling the suckers off my nipples.

A little pearl of milk dripped from my right nipple. Squeezing experimentally, I expelled a short stream from each breast.

"What the fuck?" I demanded, "did this do?"

The nurse was bagging up the device, handing it to me.

"It stimulates natural pregnancy hormones," she said, "women are far less likely to become pregnant while nursing. The idea is to induce a lactation cycle through intense suckling sensation, introduce changes your hormones more naturally, leading to a gentler birth control experience."

Complete. Junk. Science.

"Sounds totally legit," I lied, "But how do I get rid of all of the milk? This is a little uncomfortable." I lied again, but now with an agenda.

She smiled, wickedly.

"I'll show you," she said. She took one breast into her bare hand and began to squeeze it softly. The sensation ran down my body, like she stroked a direct line to my clit. "Milking," she said, squirting milk out of me.

"Though many patients prefer nursing," she said, lowering her head to my free breast, closing her soft, red lips around my nipple. She licked, teased, suckled--I felt her start to massage my breast to squirt more milk into her mouth, while her other hand left my breast and began to creep down my body. I watched her: her face calm and content against my body, her hair disheveled and lovely. Like she knew I was watching, she tilted her face so that I could see her sweet pink tongue teasing my nipple, her open, waiting mouth receiving the white jet of my milk.

"Although," she said, surfacing , thick, white milk ringing her cherry-red mouth, "we find that adding digital manipulation is the most efficacious way to deal with this ...issue." She slid a finger inside of my pussy, and I tilted back to allow her more purchase. She pushed in two more, then hooked her thumb onto my clit. She pushed me down flat on the table and climbed atop me, massaging me inside with one hand, my tit with the other, sucking my nipple gently. In a moment of boldness, I pulled her face up to meet mine, and when she kissed me, I could taste my own milk. I spread my legs as wide as I could, so that she could grind her soft, friendly body against mine, putting more force behind her strong fingers.

"You know," she whispered, squeezing a jet out of me "I need to be milked today, too."

I laughed, reached out and pinched a nipple lightly. This had definitely been worth the train ride.

She worked me like she had a map to all the pleasure points of my body, like it was her job to make women cum...

And when I did, the twin streams of milk were incredible.

*

"There's no way that's true," Crist protested, "no medical professionals would be so...irresponsibly sexual."

Beltz rolled her eyes. "Of course it wasn't legit, they were probably just some weirdos pretending to be doctors to test an extremely edge sex toy that apparently never hit the market, since I can't find a replacement since I burned my prototype out," she kissed two fingers and held them to the ceiling in a v. "Mourn ya till I join ya, freaky milking orgasm machine."

"So it worked? Like just felt good, or made you lactate?" Jefferson asked.

"Both," she sighed, smiling with satisfaction.

"That wouldn't work as birth control," Crist pointed out, "you know it's a myth that lactating women can't conceive," he said.

"Oh, I know that, but the string of very specifically pervy, very discreet older gentlemen I 'dated' until right after the MCATs didn't," she sighed again, tugging a length of hair, "anyway, that's my story. How about your super-freaky one, now, Crist?"

"I don't know, you guys, there's some incriminating stuff in that one..."

"Sure there is," Beltz smirked "What, did you have to explain conception to some Seventh Day of the Flaming Heart with Voices Presiding couple?"

"Beltz! Come on!" said Jefferson.

"That is not a real denomination and you know it," Crist grumbled. "Fine. I'll tell it.

So, here's what happened.

"Nu-uh, needs a title! Gotta have a name for it!" Beltz demanded.

"She's right. We gave titles for ours," Jefferson agreed.

Crist rolled his eyes. "Fine, um, let's call it, um..."

The Baby Train

Infertility is a difficult thing to deal with, especially among the religious. Children are gifts from God after all, and what must that mean, if God doesn't send a devout couple that gift?

This was a problem I had to face at my last job, where I did my internship.

"Crist, I need to talk to you about something...delicate," Dr. Leary, my supervisor told me one day.

"Sure, what's up?" I asked.

My boss there was middle aged, but still fit, with just a dust of gray at his temples.

"I need you to help me with an infertility case," he said carefully.

"Ok..." those were not unusual, so I didn't see right away what the problem could be.

He took of his glasses and leaned in to look me in the eye. "I really need to be able to trust you for this," he said "it's not conventional, but it's not for me to tell other people how to beleive."

"Sure thing, don't worry--I'll do whatever I can to help," I answered.

Dr. Leary leaned back in his chair.

"I had the unfortunate task of letting a very devout Catholic couple know why their prayers had gone unanswered," he said. "A Mr. and Mrs. Bryant. Mr. Bryant's sperm count is just too low."

"So in vitro," I began.

Dr. Leary shook his head. "That's where things are different. They believe in-vitro is the equivalent of abortion, since life begins at conception and embryos often go unused. And before you say it, they don't want a sperm donor, either, because, as they put it, 'they don't want their child born with original sin AND the sin of onanism."

"That doesn't leave a lot of options," I said.

"That's what we thought," Dr. Leary said, and passed me the Bryant's medical file. "But they prayed on it, and came up with a different solution."

At the top of the file was a print-out from one of those bible verse websites, with a verse highlighted:

"And she said, Behold my maid Bilhah, go in unto her; and she shall bear upon my knees, that I may also have children by her."

I read the passage and re-read it, and still did not understand.

"I'm sorry, I don't follow."

"You recognize the reference, yes?" He asked.

"Sure, Rachel's maid had her kids for her. Since Rachel owned her maid, she owned the kids, too."

"That's one reading of it. The Bryants ascribe to a ...different one."

"Dr. Leary, I'm really confused. Can you just be direct?" I said, finally exasperated.

"Well, it's simple," said Dr. Leary. " Only a little gender-reversed. Some people read that verse as Rachel holding Bilhah in her lap while..."

I gasped. "So Mr. Bryant..."

Dr Leary nodded, "Will hold Mrs. Bryant, and we will go in unto her. It's not masturbation, it doesn't kill any embryos, and is somewhat biblically precedented."

I nodded. "And...we have to do it?"

Dr. Leary sighed, "We do. They're our patients. You, myself and another young man I know. They don't want the parentage of the resultant child to be easily determined, so they want multiple, I guess, handi-men, to donate. Be here tomorrow, before opening."

I took my things and left.

That night, I thought about not going in the morning, I really did. But I had dedicated myself to this job--if this is what it took, this is what it took. I was not...experienced....so I was a little nervous. But this wasn't sex, it was medicine. Just, alternative medicine.

Either way, I took a cold shower before I went to bed and before I went in that morning.

It was the day after Easter, and the Bryants were ready. They were a handsome couple--Mr.Bryant was tall, trim, wearing a nice jacket and slacks, dark brown hair cut like a banker's. He glowed with pride at his young wife, with her long red hair and soft, rounded body. She wore a billowy white dress that skimmed her breasts in a way that showed she was not wearing anything under it.

"Are you ready for us?" Mrs Bryant asked.

She seemed over eager, but who am I to question a patient?

"Ah, yes, we'll have you back here in the examination room," Said Dr. Leary, appearing at the doorway.

"Thank you, Doctor, for helping us with this," Mr. Bryant said brightly, shaking Dr. Leary's hand.

"It's my duty as a doctor," He said, leading them to an examination room.

The other donor was waiting, too, and stood respectfully when the couple entered the room. A volunteer I recognized from some of our blood drives, Brian, who was a good, strong young man with broad shoulders, home in between deployments. He'd donated just to be sure that he'd have children, somewhere.

"Ma'am," Brian said, and put his hand out to shake Mrs. Bryant's. She shook it, but didn't look him in the eye. Mr Bryant slapped him on the back, friendly, and laughed.

"I appreciate you being so respectful, but my wife is afraid of appearing too lustful. She just wants to to put it in her, you know? Your cock, I mean," he winked at me "You too. We appreciate your sacrifice, here, but we'd rather not know , if you can understand."

Brian nodded his agreement and stepped back to stand awkwardy next to me.

Mr. Byrant, in his pressed slacks, button down shirt and sweater vest, sat on the edge of the examination table, spacing his knees apart. Mrs. Bryant climbed on top of his, straddling his lap so that her ass hung in the air.

"She likes this position," Mr. Bryant blushed, "We thought it'd be better to start off like this, right sweetie?"

"Of course, sweetheart. Young man, can you please place my blindfold?"

"Oh, of course," I said, and tied the black silk tie around her eyes. She smiled. It's a bit of a graphic detail, but since ya'll asked for them...I noticed her, um, drip, onto the floor.

"Now, that's good," she said,"Honey, can you pick my first?"

"Sure, sweetie, how about you?" He nodded to Brian, who looked nervous, but stepped forward anyhow.

"I don't want to hurt you, ma'am."

She didn't speak.

Brian unzipped his jeans and pulled out his penis. It was still flaccid, I imagine, from nerves.

"If you need some help, go on and slide your head against her. It feels very nice," Mr. Bryant offered.

Brian, too surprised not to, obeyed, and sprang to erection immediately.

"I'm going to..."

But it was too late, he slipped inside her with no resistance at all.

He groaned. We all groaned, I think, seeing that. It was just so natural, so primal...

Mrs. Bryant sighed happily, and kissed her husband on the mouth, hard. I was shocked to see such passion, while another man thrust into her the way Brian was.

"Can I touch her breasts, please, sir?" Brian grunted, thrusting into her.

Mrs Bryant shook her head.

"Gosh, I sure am sorry, guy, but no, the lady says no," Mr. Bryant answered.

I heard her whisper to her husband, though, take them out, I want you to suck them.

He smiled, shrugged his shoulders and carefully lifted her breasts out of the billowy white dress.

She moaned lustfully, arching her back so that her breasts were in her husband's face.

"Now, don't give into lust, my dove," Mr. Bryant said, and slapped his wife sharply on her clitoris five times. I remember the number, exactly, the five wet slapping noises it made. "Women," Mr. Bryant said, giving her pert, pink nipple a nibble "am I right fellas?"

Brian lost it then, grabbing her by the hips and groaning long and hard. I was standing behind him, I saw his whole body tense, saw him use every ounce of discipline not to touch her bare skin.

"Careful," Dr. Leary cautioned, "Don't pull out yet. We need to make sure it stays inside," with only a little fuss, we lifted her onto her husband's lap, facing us. She crossed legs demurely.

"Can you unfold the stirrups, please," she asked.

I pulled them out quickly, and she propped up her feet. And you could just see in there...her legs wide open, all that sperm inside her, starting to drip out just a little...

"Next," Mrs. Bryant sighed, settling further into her husband's arms. He kissed her cheek and massaged her breasts.

Dr. Leary nodded to me. I froze to the spot.

"Jeff," Dr. Leary called me by first name and pushed me forward. "Do it for your patient,"

I bit my lip and unzipped my pants. Mrs. Bryant lay there, her white dress hiked up above her hips so I could see all of her, her huge breasts manipulated by her husband's hands.

I couldn't resist any longer. I'm only a man.

"Ok," I said. I squeezed a little lubricant into my hand. I stood between her legs.There was no turning back. I touched her vulva, slid a single finger into her vagina, trailed it through the cum that Jeff had left. It was the first time I'd touched a woman's vulva in that way--or maybe it wasn't? It was still a medical thing, after all.

"I'm going to, uh, begin the procedure," I said, unzipping my pants. I had taken a viagra earlier, thinking I would need it for something that felt so sinful, but it wasn't necessary. I positioned myself, and slid in.