That knowing grin. A tad cocky. As a doctor in the military, he loves his job.
Soldiers are required to submit to frequent physicals, and he has full access to their psychological profiles. They are so fun and entertaining! He has a database set up with each soldier’s sexual orientation, and key factors from their profiles. It comes in so, so handy!
Gay soldiers are easy. When he wants to get laid, he just shows up wherever they are on some pretext or another. As a doctor, he is almost everyone’s superior, in a certain way. One way or another, it’s pretty much a given he’ll get his rocks off.
He no longer bothers with bi’s - he always feels like they’re trying to decide whether they are enjoying being fucked or not, or else comparing him to some female. Ick.
He also doesn’t usually bother with pure straights. There are fewer of them than you might think. Secure in their sexuality, they simply don’t enjoy sex with men and so are rarely any fun at all. That would just be sadistic rape. Of course, if they’re a whopping 10/10, or one of those smiling studs that are charming and dumb and made of midwestern beef, then he might make an exception. Who wouldn’t? But he gives them a horny-happy-time shot, first. They really get into it, then. Quite imaginative. He’s got some great, great recordings. And they never remember. They just leave with a strong sense of satisfaction and a job well done.
No, he prefers the studly straight/closeted homophobe, who actually deserves to get fucked.
Still, no matter the orientation, when an appointment for a good looking soldier comes up, he first turns on the hidden cameras. Once the soldier is inside the soundproof examination room, he locks the doors. The doctor then always makes them strip. He finds soldiers are usually proud to show off their army-built biceps, their chiseled abs, their hairy pecs, their strong thighs, even their firm butts. Smiling, or not, they stand naked against a blank wall for the obligatory “progress” photos taken by the doctor. Front and back. Once saluting “at attention” and again with legs wider spread and arms behind back “at ease.” And one from behind with legs spread super wide as they bend over and touch the floor.
“Did you take your enema tablets last night?”
“Had to sit on the toilet all morning, sir. Otherwise, I’m fine, sir!”
“Okay. I’ll first need a urine sample. Regulations require that I hold your penis to make sure there’s no cheating. So I’m gonna grab your junk and aim it into this bottle. Understood?”
“I guess. Is this really necessary, sir?”
“Army regs are army regs, soldier!”
For future reference, he always makes a cryptic mark in the soldier’s files if their cock twitches as he holds it.
After, they proceed to the examining table, where the examination proceeds as per normal unless the doctor has selected the soldier for special treatment.
For those selected soldiers, the examination table is short; the soldier’s butt is almost completely off one end. The short length practically forces a soldier to use his tight abs to lift his legs. The soldier then obligingly and gratefully puts his legs into the stirrups extending from the table. This allows him to keep his balance without effort and relax his torso. The stirrups are supplied with quicklocks. Once the weight of the leg and ankle pushes down on the stirrup, a padded metal strap flips over the ankle and prevents its release except from the outside. They are sort of like handcuffs but more comfortable, and leave no marks no matter how hard one strains against them.
Blood is then drawn. The doctor knows which soldiers are clean, but both urine and blood samples are always tested for standard health components as well as for STDs and drug abuse.
The soldier readily puts his arms overhead, following orders as always, and feels his wrists going into the same type of padded quick-locks. In this way, the soldier has quickly and voluntarily gotten himself essentially spread-eagled.
“Looks like you’re scheduled for a stress test today,” the doctor informs the soldier. He attaches the necessary wired pad and electronics to monitor the soldier’s heart “for the stress test.”
In doing so, the doctor takes a few moments to play with the soldier’s pits (”Any strain in your armpits, soldier?”), tweak his nipples (“Can you feel it when I do this?”), and examine the soldier’s family jewels (“Turn your head and cough”). By now, the soldier is wondering what sort of stress test this might be. The soldier is told that it is “all in the regs.”
“Perhaps this will make you feel at ease,” the doctor says while taking his pants off. The soldier sees the doctor is wearing a surprisingly unclean, moist, well-used jock stretching around what must be a good size package. The bulging pouch, surrounding the doctor’s cock and balls is regulation army green. However, darkened zones on the sides of the pouch tell of sweat accumulating over a long period of time. Darker spots in the middle indicate frequent piss and cum spotting, to those who know what to look for. The soldier is too surprised at the incongruity of a doctor wearing such a jock to say anything, though the soldier usually raises his eyebrows.
The doctor removes his doctor’s coat, removes his shirt, then puts his coat and stethoscope back on. In this way, he is still obviously a doctor, now with his cocky grin, but his hairy chest and pronounced treasure trail leading to a hidden, hairy bush can be seen.
The doctor then goes behind the soldier, out of the soldier’s sight, and removes his jock. The doctor likes to hear them beg, but this is this soldier’s third visit in as many months, and he knows this one’s a screamer. Prior to this one’s first visit, the soldier had been seen pushing around another shorter, hairy chested soldier, calling him a “fag” undeserving of chest hair.
The doctor requests: “Now close your eyes, open your mouth, and say Ah!”
The soldiers always do it.
The doctor quickly stuffs the soldier’s mouth full with the pouch of his jock as well as the part of the two bottom straps that connects to the pouch, where all the sweat seems to drain to. An experienced doctor, he’s always ready to give a jab at the right pressure point to make sure the mouth stays open long enough to get the pouch completely in. Long practice enables the doctor to quickly wrap the jock’s waist strap around the soldier’s head twice to prevent it from being pushed out. The soldiers usually start thrashing at that point, their helplessness first becoming clear.
Still, this is a necessary step for the doctor. It not only keeps the sound down, but it gets the soldiers used to the taste of the doctor’s crotch, whether they want to or not. Amongst other things, he personally discovered a side effect of the shot he will give the soldier later. The taste will be one of the items uppermost in the soldier’s mind, and the shot ties in the soldier’s lust to the taste in his mouth at the time the shot is given. (He figures no one has discovered this before as usually their is nothing in the person’s mouth at the time.) Repeated applications almost guarantee a soldier, no matter how straight, will develop an insatiable need to lick crotch, suck cock, and greedily and gratefully suck down every last drop of cum.
But that’s later. For now, he moves to the feet of the supine, thrashing soldier as the soldier yells into the jock gag, unwittingly helping to push the pouch that much deeper into the soldier’s mouth and ensuring a more thorough tasting and cleaning.
He bends the soldier’s knees towards the soldier’s chest. This allows him to then spread the soldier’s legs wider. By now, after struggling with the soldier’s gag, and smelling the fear and pheromones wafting from the soldier’s pits, the doctor usually has a raging hard on. Seeing the hard, pulsing cock, the soldier increases his struggles, developing a nice sheen of sweat over the soldier’s body.
He takes his doctor’s oath seriously: “First, do no harm.” So he uses plenty of lube, opening the hole up and getting the tight anal sphincter used to the idea of allowing something in the wrong way. The doctor has dildos and speculums to assist him. The soldier can only respond by yelling “mmmph!” to the humiliating position of having his legs spread wide and his hole opened as his saliva moistens the jock pouch giving him the full flavor of the doctor’s most intimate zone.
The doctor informs the soldier that the Army’s stress test is about to begin. The doctor loves watching the soldier’s face as he first inserts his cock into the soldier’s ass, making the popping of the cherry official. This is this soldier’s third time to lose his cherry, and reacts the same way each time. The doctor’s cock waits just inside the opening until it’s clear the soldier knows he has now had a man’s cock past his sphincter. Then he starts to slide in, watching the soldier’s eyes get wider as the impaling cock goes ever deeper up his rectum.
The doctor knows to take his time, to allow the soldier’s colon time to adjust. In the meantime, he likes to fuck with the soldier’s head.
“They all said you were a faggot, but I didn’t believe them until now.”
“Man, the way your ass sucks in my cock, you must be taking your buddies’ cocks all the time.”
“Yeah, like you never took it up the ass before. Stop pretending you were a virgin.”
“I gotta let the CO know he’s got a faggot pussy on hands. He’ll want to take his turn, too.”
“I gotta make a note in the records how much you like taking it up the ass.”
“Why are you struggling so? If you didn’t want cock, you’d close your legs.” (Not mentioning that the stirrups can not be closed by the patient.)
Being a doctor, he knows right where the soldier’s prostate is. “How does this feel?” he says, in a stroke he knows brushes against the man’s prostate.
“Better, or worse?” the doctor asks, giving another stroke at another angle. He notices the soldier’s cock involuntarily twitch and knows his answer. Soon enough, the soldier muffled yells have turned to muffled moans.
Within a few more strokes, the soldier is embarrassed to find himself hard. The doctor loves seeing the expression on their face when they realize they are actually enjoying their mistreatment.
The doctor, with a lasso-type neoprene medical device, makes a tie around the soldier’s cock and balls while neatly separating the soldier’s two balls. The device will keep the soldier hard as well. He checks the heart monitor: yep, increased heart rate. All normal.
The doctor takes out a camera and photographs the situation, barely getting a portion of his cock up the soldier ass, but including the soldier’s hard cock, exposed armpits, and jock-gagged face. He sees a stress spike in the heart monitor and feels some wild thrashing from the soldier.
And with the soldier’s hard cock seeking succor, the doctor now has a handle. With some more lube, he strokes the soldier’s cock. Eventually, precum starts to drip, the soldier’s struggles now appearing more like writhing in pleasure. The doctor makes sure to only edge and never let the soldier cum. The soldier’s increased heart rate is appropriately monitored by the machines. When the doctor suddenly stops stroking, the soldier, once moaning, begins to yell back into his gag.
The doctor looks up into the mirrored wall. He sees himself in his lab coat, his hairy chest exposed, pumping in an out of the well-built, good-looking soldier’s ass. The sight of the struggling soldier, his legs spread wide helpless to avoid taking the doctor’s cock, turns him on. He knows from experience it’s a view the hidden camera will catch perfectly, but watching it live he can’t help but start to rut. Faster and faster he fucks the hapless soldier. The soldier’s heart monitor shows an increased heart rate, the automatic blood pressure cuff recording blood pressure every 30 seconds. It just needs a little bit more….
“Oh, man. I’m gonna cum. You want me to cum up your ass?”
“NNNNNNNNN!” says the struggling, sweating soldier and shaking his head no.
“Y’know, if I cum in your ass, I’ll have to tell your superior you are a faggot pussy made to take other men’s cum.”
“NNNNNNGGGGGG!” the soldier repeats, louder.
“Fuck, man. This feels too good. I don’t know if I can pull out!” The doctor strokes the soldier’s still-hard cock, eliciting more pre-cum.
“NNNNNNNNN!” the soldier repeats, violently pulling against the restraints.
“Your ass feels too good. It’s like it’s trying suck me dry!” The doctor’s stroking is getting the soldier close.
“NNNNNNNNN!!!” the soldier again yells into the gag.
“Okay, I’ll stop stroking you!”
“NNNNNNN!” yells the soldier, suddenly humping and clenching his ass around the doctor’s impaling dick. The heart monitor blinking indicating peak stress (but within acceptable limits).
“I’m so close! Just let me get as far up your ass as I can get!”
The last said simultaneously with the doctor’s “YEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!!!!”
The doctor pauses to enjoy the feeling of pumping his sperm deep into the soldier’s well-fucked ass.
Then the doctor lets out, “Oh, fuck! All the way inside you! Did you feel me spurt? I’ve never cum so much. Fuck! So deep inside you, too.” He takes a few more strokes, as if to make sure his cock is as deep as he can get it.
“Have to make a note that you like being bred like a gay whore. Fuck. Your ass is like a fucking cunt! Felt so good breeding you like a bitch. Now tell me, you really like getting all my sperm inside you, don’t you? Don’t lie to me. A fucking pussy is what you are. Made to take a real man’s cum. Aw shit. Never knew shooting inside a male’s ass would feel so good.
“I’ll just stay inside you so nothing leaks out…”
The soldier, dominated, defeated, stops struggling, his eyes watering.
The heart monitor records the recovery rate of the soldier’s heart.
The doctor eventually pulls his now-flagging cock out. The soldier’s special shot, already prepped, is soon administered in the soldier’s butt cheek. The doctor removes the heart monitoring equipment, taking time to play with and stroke the various parts of the soldier’s body as the sweat-soaked soldier half-heartedly writhes beneath the doctor’s touch. After 15 minutes, the side effect of the future oral/crotch lust has set. And now for the next 15 minutes, the second phase of the special shot makes the soldier happily compliant to any command.
It’s at this point the doctor can remove the gag and the devices holding the soldier spread-eagled. The doctor can now take more pictures, such as the soldier voluntarily lifting his legs with his abs, holding them open to expose his ass. Or a photo with an anonymous cock buried inside the soldier’s ass (the doctor’s cock chubbed up enough again to make it convincing).
Ordered to stroke as necessary to keep his hardon but no further, the soldier then has a few photo shots taken with him kneeling with a cock in his mouth, the anonymous cock naturally supplied by the doctor. After all, the doctor’s cock should be cleaned! The soldier’s nose goes down to the doctor’s pubes, as the doctor isn’t fully erect. The doctor’s balls still were plump though, thus making it appear the soldier has deep throated a hard cock. Despite the difficulty in smiling when having a mouth full of tumescent cock, the soldier obligingly does his best to follow orders; the soldier’s happiness that clearly comes across in the photo would convince anyone that the soldier is apparently happy and grateful to be taking cock. A few wider shots showing the soldier hard and dripping pre-cum were also taken.
“You’ve given me a urine sample, it’s only fair I give you one in return,” the doctor says. The soldier, still on his knees, is told to open wide and swallow down the flow continuously “as if you were a fully functioning urinal. Remember, always salute when a superior officer pisses or cum into your mouth.”
The doctor keeps his cock a few inches from the soldier’s mouth, so the close-up recording shows the piss stream entering the soldier’s mouth. The recording catches the sound of the stream hitting the soldier’s mouth and shows the full face of the soldier as he desperately tries to keep up with the flow. Towards the end, the doctor moves his cock back into the soldier’s mouth and says “keep swallowing, and suck out the last few drops.”
The soldier complies. Drained, the doctor pulls out.
He didn’t even have to ask before the automatic “Sir! Thank you, sir!” came out of the soldier’s mouth, making an excellent ending to the piss clip. “At ease, soldier,” he orders, allowing the soldier to finally drop his salute and stand up.
It’s almost time for the third phase of the special shot to take effect. This phase causes the soldier to pass out, then sleep for a half hour. When he wakes up, he will not remember anything of the past 2 hours. It is highly useful in many medical proceedings.
The still-dazed but happily compliant soldier is then told to sign some forms. They happen to be photographic waiver and release forms as well as malpractice waivers, though the soldier will forget having signed them.
With an eye on the clock, the doctor juxtaposes the nearby table extension (the stirrups weren’t really necessary) and the soldier lies back down. The doctor continues to stroke, kiss, tease, or otherwise play with the soldier’s body parts, a pool of the soldier’s precum pooling into his navel.
The doctor knows a few whispered phrases at this time will soak into the soldier’s drugged brain stronger than any subliminal message could. This soldier never wanted to wear a jock before! But items involving lust take repeated applications to stick, though. He bends down by the soldier’s ear and tells the soldier “You will dream of sex all night, but can no longer jerk yourself off. Instead, you enjoy looking at your fellow soldiers during PT, hoping to catch a glimpse of chest or armpit hair; you love the sight and smell of their sweat; you enjoy the way their PT shorts cling to their butts and balls; you love being naked around them, whether in the showers or in the can; you want them to like you; you dream about having your legs spread wide with some hairy-chested soldier sweating above you as you are fucked; you will not call anyone a fag, for when you think about it, you realize you are more fag than they are. You will celebrate your understanding by getting your nipples pierced. You want to tell your doctor everything.” The smiling soldier passes out.
The doctor then quickly gets redressed except for his jock. The doctor mentally noted just how well the stains had been sucked clean, but because now it is soaked with saliva, he puts his jock in a laundry bag. He decides to wear the studly soldier’s jock instead, after first spraying it with an odorless bacteriacide.
The doctor rapidly but thoroughly finishes the rest of the exam on the sleeping soldier. He removes the lasso around the soldier’s cock and balls. The soldier’s cock quickly becomes flaccid, while the balls, plump and tight, will remain so for some time. With a gloved hand, he rubs the pooled precum into the soldier’s hair, just for kicks. The sun will make his hair stiff and crusty soon enough.
This is also decision time. He can’t do it too often, or the humiliation effect won’t be nearly as strong. Like that one time that other soldier was being a real prick to other men, particularly gays. He’d installed an army-regulation chastity device on the soldier. (”Cock Injury. Must not get erect.”) The horrified look on the soldier’s eyes was frickin’ hilarious. And that one time he completely depilated that prick of a soldier from the neck down (”Lice”). He knew for a fact that neither of them made it through their third communal shower before being turned into the barracks whore. However, the doctor decided this soldier doesn’t need such measures, or at least not yet. Besides, another couple sessions should have the soldier begging for cock.
“Doctor? What’s happening?” the soldier mumbles, working his way up until he’s sitting up on the exam table.
“Oh, you fainted when I started taking the blood sample. Don’t worry, it happens to a number of men, particularly after working up such a sweat during the stress test. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Huh? Sorry doc. I have this headache. I can’t seem to think…”
“That sometimes happens after fainting. All your senses go a little funny. Here. I have some aspirin. It always works.”
“Thanks, doc,” replies the soldier. “You’re right. I have this icky taste in my mouth, too,” he says, quickly swallowing the aspirin with a full glass of cool water. “Um, how much more do we have to do?”
“Oh, we’re all finished. Don’t you remember?“
“Uh, not really. Frankly, I don’t remember much after walking in and talking to that cute receptionist chick.”
“Huh. Well, no matter. You’ll feel better shortly,” says the doctor, knowing that as the drug dissipates, it has a final kick. It will deliver a last, short-lived euphoria phase. It typically kicks in after about ten minutes.
“But let me repeat what I told you before, just in case. You came through the stress test like the stud you are. You complained about your ass being sore, but it is likely just from the enema. I looked at it and there’s no harm done. It should go away in a couple days. I put some white healing cream inside, so no worries in case you see any discharge. However, I’ve put down in your file that you should make a return visit in another month. We can go over the lab tests at that time as well. Okay?”
“Very good. Until next time.”
“Sir? You’re a really good doctor,” the studly soldier says as he gets redressed.
“Well, thank you, soldier.”
“Uh, do you see my jock anywhere?”
“You weren’t wearing one when you came in. I thought it odd, but figured you just wanted to get this over with quicker.”
“Ah shit, doc. I can’t remember. If it’s missing, I’ll get in trouble. Just got it from laundry yesterday, and it’s another week before I can go to the laundry and get a replacement.”
“Don’t worry about it. Things like this happen. Here,” the doctor replies, going to a cabinet. “I happen to have a new one. Is this your size?“
The doctor knew it was, but cared to affect otherwise. The jockstrap really was new. The doctor had cum onto it only once, massaging the spooge into the pouch to saturate it fully so that a telltale spot stain would not be evident. The soldier’s body heat and sweat would moisten the jock and the doctor’s dried cum. With luck, the soldier’s full, unrelieved balls would start absorbing the doctor’s pheromones right as the euphoria stage hit. Experience had told the doctor this will result in an ongoing need for those pheromones to be replenished, thus speeding up the process of the soldier becoming the doctor’s eventual fuck and suck slave. The doctor would know when the time was right when the soldier made no complaints about being fucked on the doctor’s examination table and came free handed upon being seeded.
“My size exactly, doc. Thanks! See? It fits perfect - I can wear it all week. I’m definitely coming back to you for all my physicals!”
“My pleasure. Good bye, soldier.”
“Sir, yes, sir!” the soldier barks, saluting the doctor before leaving.
“How about that? He was right!” thinks the soldier, noticing his butt is indeed sore. “That guy is a true professional,” he continues, forgetting all about asking the receptionist out as he opens the facility door. “And he’s not bad looking for a doctor. Man, I’m horny. I’ve got so much energy, I feel like I could spit fire! I’d better hightail it over to PT for a good sweat.”
As he starts to run across the base to where the rest of the barracks is doing their PT, he has one last thought: “Damn. How is it that this jock feels so good around my balls?”
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