Subbie Hubbie’s Exam
Author's note: This is not a typical genre for me and is my first attempt at both "first person" and F/m. The story was inspired by recent circumstances that forced me to have a physical exam performed by a female doctor (long story). This is purely fiction, folks, written in four parts for the enjoyment of those on the site who are into F/m.
Part 3: The Exam Room
I follow Nia down the hallway and into a small room. It's a typical clinic room with a desk and chair against the wall for the doctor, two chairs beside it for patients, a sink, and an exam table. A poster on the wall points out the importance of regular breast exams. On the padded table is a blue hospital gown.
"Okay Mr. Baker, if you would please remove all of your clothing and put on this gown, Nurse Gebhardt will be in shortly. Opening in the back, of course." The pretty little receptionist turns and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. As I watch the door close I notice there's no handle on the inside. That's pretty odd, but given every other odd thing that I've seen since coming into this clinic today, I just add it to the list.
I pick up the thin baby blue gown. Of course, opening in the back. How else is the doctor going to stick his finger up my ass? I look at the door with no handle and then at the gown. Son of a bitch! Fucking Roxanne! Where in the fuck are you? You'll be here any second now, I'm sure. You're probably already here... yeah, it's just like you to wait until the last minute to make your entrance. Fucking make me squirm, that's what gets you off. Well I'm squirming! I hope you get the big O over this Mistress, because you're giving me a fucking heart attack here! At least I'm in a clinic if I keel over dead.
A grin forms on my lips as I contemplate the string of obscenities that just flew through my mind. I do tend to cuss when I’m upset, and I’m plenty upset right now. But at least the grin helps to calm me down.
I put both hands on the paper sheet covering the exam table, close my eyes, and try to settle down even more. Breathe, Danny boy, breathe. It'll be okay...Mistress will be here soon. She's never left me where I wasn't a hundred percent safe, today will be no different.
Having a physical is not the issue, I know it's been over a year since my last, but come on...this doctor's going to come in here any second and here I sit with my cock locked in a chastity device. It's going to be so embarrassing explaining it. Oh this? Yeah, well my wife has the key, she's what you would call, um, dominant. I know, it seems sorta extreme, but it's what we're into, I'm sure you see this type of thing all the time. No? A pervert? Me? The police...that's not really neccesa...
I hear a soft knock on the door and see the door begin to open.
"I'm, um, I haven't changed yet...just a minute okay?"
"Please hurry," a female voice says through the crack in the door, "the doctor's almost ready to see you."
"Okay, I'm sorry." The door closes again with a resounding click.
I quickly unbutton my shirt and take it off, hanging it on one of the hooks on the wall. I fumble with the button on my jeans and then lower them, stepping out of each leg and placing the folded pants on one of the chairs. Slipping out of my underwear and socks, I stand naked, tucking my underwear out of sight in the folds of my jeans.
The gown is ridiculously short and barely covers my crotch. I lean against the exam table, fumbling with the tie strips behind me. Soft knocks on the door precedes the entrance of a woman in dark blue scrubs. She simply points at the chair nearest the desk as she sits down and logs onto the computer. I sit. She introduces herself as Nurse Gebhardt and then begins to ask me the usual questions followed by the taking of my blood pressure, pulse, and temperature, all duly noted in my computer file.
Nurse Gebhardt, despite her curt manner, is quite attractive. Her brown hair falls about her shoulders much the same way Roxanne's does, making me think of my mistress and feeling an unwanted expansion down below. This only serves to remind me of my embarrassing confinement, which in turns stokes the arousing thoughts filtering through my mind. I look away from the nurse, not wanting to see the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathes, not wanting to see the flesh of her thighs as she sits there, swiveling slightly in her chair.
She continues to ask me questions pertaining to my medical history and then asks for my wrist again to check my pulse one more time. Her hands are warm and her touch comforting. Her fingers trace a line about my wrist and I look over to see there are some faint lines remaining from the rope that Mistress bound me with for the trip over. The nurse seems to be examining them, probably wondering what might have caused the slight indentations in my flesh. My heart stops! Please don't ask me about those lines!
The pulse reading is entered into the records, although there's no doubt that it's artificially high. I find it curious that she didn’t mention the rope indentations, as they are rather obvious, but it’s a great relief that she didn’t ask. There’s always the possibility she’ll mention it Dr. Erikson though, and let him ask me about it. I guess that would be more likely and the thought adds to my apprehension over the coming exam.
Nurse Gebhardt stands, informing me that Dr. Erikson will be right in, and goes to the door. I look over to see her take a device out of her smock and hold it against the silver plate located where the knob would normally be and hear a dull click. The door swings open and I’m alone once again.
It’s quiet in the room, and the quiet does nothing to settle my nerves. There's a clock on the shelf above the desk and the sound of its tick reverberates like a rim-shot on a drumhead. Mistress said she'd be here before the doctor saw me, but time's running out. I can hear it running out, tick by tick. No, actually, she said she "should" be back, that's not the same as "will" be back. She has to come back! Please Mistress! Please!
Soft knocks, door opening, Nurse Gebhardt peeking in. "I'm sorry Mr. Baker, Nia failed to have you stop by the scale to record your weight on the way in, would you come with me please?" She's holding the door open and I see a woman in a green lab coat walk by and then another leading a woman past in the other direction. There seems to be a lot of traffic in the hallway! No, I'm not going out in that hallway dressed as I am. I reach for my pants.
"It's just outside the door, sir, there’s no need to get dressed. Come, please." Her hand is beckoning me out of the room, the look on her face telling me I'm to get up and follow her. I rise and check the ties in the back of my skimpy blue gown to ensure they are still tied and move towards the door. Once in the hallway I see that the scale is not just ‘outside the door’ as advertised, but several doors away. Although covered by the gown, just, it feels like I'm walking naked down the hall.
I'm ushered onto the scale, the cool surface chilling my bare feet, when I see motion to my right. Coming out of a room across from me is Blondie with the short skirt, followed by a young woman in a nice pink sweater and matching pink skirt. In fact, the woman is the essence of pink. Her thin legs are covered with stockings, pink of course, and upon her feet are pink shoes with no less than 5" heels. What suddenly catches my attention is the pink leather collar around her throat, a leash trailing away to Blondie's hand. My gaze ascends along the woman’s body to her head and I see that the young woman's head is held upwards but her eyes look towards the floor, content to allow Blondie to lead her to her destination. The young woman's hair is brown and short. I catch a glimpse of red, not much, but a few strands, and am shocked to realize that this is Vampire Girl!
The scene is bizarre in this setting. What sort of clinic is this that bondage can be so openly displayed? Vampire Girl is being led into the hall and towards the waiting room at the end of a leash, and being done so casually, as if this is just the normal way to walk about.
And then there’s the transformation! Good lord, she departed the waiting room half an hour ago a foul mouth Goth Girl and now she’s a “Pretty in Pink” submissive. What the hell did they do to her in there? My scrotum tightens at who I next see emerging from the room.
The stunningly beautiful red-haired doctor I saw guide them into the clinic follows the two out of the room. "Well, if you need any more help with Gracie, you be sure to contact me," the doctor says as she places a hand on the transformed Vampire Girl's shoulder.
"I will, thank you Dr. Erikson. Do you have anything to say, Gracie?"
"Thank you for helping me, Dr. Erikson, ma'am."
"You're quite welcome dear," the doctor says as I hold onto the wall next to me, my knees suddenly feeling weak and my legs rubbery beneath me.
The drop-dead gorgeous redhead is Dr. Erikson? No, no, no...this can't be right.
"Okay sir, let's get you back into your room, it looks like the doctor is free now." Nurse Gebhardt turns me back and ushers me into the room. I hear the door click shut behind me, but instantly know something is amiss. Not only are my pants not on the chair but also the room has a different look to it. For one thing, instead of the exam table there's a gynecology chair in the room, and strapped securely to that chair is Blondie with the Legs, stark naked.
Blondie with the Legs looks up at me and says, "May I please you, Master?"
I turn and try to open the handle-less door, but there's no way to do it. Here I am, trapped in the wrong room in nothing but my thin hospital gown! Then Legs’ words creep through my panicked brain and I turn. If anyone in the room should be embarrassed, it should be her. I gaze at her fantastic body, strapped naked to the padded chair, her shapely limbs held wide apart, offering me an unobstructed view of her hairless pubic mound and the folds of her labia. I look up at her lovely face and she smiles.
"I apologize for the uselessness of my hands, Master, please use my mouth if you wish."
I take a step towards her as I feel my cock expand, bending downward along the tube of my CB and straining against its prison bars. This cannot be happening! I must have passed out in the hallway when I learned that Dr. Erikson was female. Yes, surely I'm lying unconscious on the floor near the scale; I imagine several staff members are attending to me now, urgently trying to revive me. That most likely explains the thumping of my heart as I gaze upon the perfect form before me in this fantasy world my mind has created.
Still, even in my dreams I cannot be unfaithful to my wife. Although this creature with the long sexy legs is enticing me with her calm words of desire, I love Roxanne with all my heart. It is to her that I have pledged my undying faithfulness and servitude. My Mistress is the center of my universe and I yearn for nothing more than to please her.
"Please," I say aloud, my mind thinking in prose, this being a dream and all, "torture me no more with your sensual limbs and your creamy white flesh, so freely offered for my enjoyment. I cannot touch you, for I am bound to another."
"Huh?" Legs says, sort of snapping me out of my dream. "You mean you're not a Master?"
I flush red as I begin to understand that this is not a dream at all, and that I'm really standing here in this room with a naked woman bound to a chair.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry!" Legs says, her face turning just as red as I imagine mine to be. "I only assumed that you were, and now I'm so embarrassed for what I was doing in the waiting room. Can you forgive me, sir?" I can see that addressing others as "sir" or "ma'am" flows naturally from her ruby red lips.
I feel my cheeks burn even hotter as I think about how the woman had presented herself to me while I sat next to her; the sensuousness of her movements, the way in which she allowed her skirt to rise so that her well-toned legs were displayed. All consciously done in an effort to be pleasing to a man she assumed to be a Master.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I respond. Smiling at the woman who I know must be quite uncomfortable to be in such an exposed position, I add, “Although, I have to admit your actions caused considerable discomfort.” My hand goes to my plastic encased genitals, barely hidden beneath the gown. “My mistress has me locked up tight.”
"Oh no! I'm so sorry to have added to your suffering!" Her expression tells me she’s sincere in her regrets and I marvel that she is considering my misfortune even as she is obviously in for some abuse herself. “Who are you then, and why are you here?” she asks me.
I take another step towards her. "I’m Danny, and my Mistress dropped me off here to have a physical, and most likely as a way to humiliate me. Can you tell me what the hell is going on here?" My need to know what Mistress has gotten me into overtakes my embarrassment at being in the room with the bound woman.
"My Mistress is having my clitoris hood pierced today. I'm really scared, Danny."
"Oh shit," I say quietly, coming just a little closer. "I’m sorry, that would be pretty scary.”
I feel a sympathetic pain in my scrotum as the thought flies through my head that if she’s getting pierced there exists a chance that Roxanne has similar designs on me. She’s already broached the topic of piercing me twice, and both times I have rebuffed the idea outright. Unfortunately, as things go in my relationship with Roxy, she brings these things up and I refuse, but the seed is planted and is in my mind.
I think what breaks me down each time is my desire to please her. My wife has no qualms about telling me what she wants, what she needs, or what she fantasizes about. I try, I really do, to make her happy, to make her fantasies come true. In the end, I believe I talk myself into submitting to her desires as a way of satisfying my own need to please her. When I was caught with my fingers on my penis the other day I was thinking about how a little ring would look and feel going through my foreskin, the process of acceptance already working its way through my mind.
"I'm Megan, by the way." Blondie with the Legs lifts her hand as far as the wrist restraints will allow and I reach over to shake it.
"I really meant, what's going on in this clinic?” I ask again. “It's Sunday and this place is supposed to be closed, and everyone here seems to be a Mistress or a slave." Some of what I've been seeing is starting to add up now.
"Oh, one Sunday a month the clinic opens for patrons of the bondage club called The Rope Factory. Have you heard of it?”
I nod that I have. "The Rope Factory... my Mistress took me there once. It's quite a place."
It was about a month ago, in fact. Roxanne had me totally outfitted in just about every stitch of bondage gear she owns. I was quite a site and drew many curious stares from the people at the club. Being hooded had actually worked out better for me because I wasn't so mortified that someone would recognize me, and to be honest, overall I had a pretty good time that night.
Mistress had not placed my member in purgatory, and I spent the evening extremely aroused and oozing over everything in sight. But of course my pleasure was not the focus of the evening and I labored endlessly the entire time pleasuring Roxanne and an endless number of Mistresses, and to my utter disgust, even a few Masters. My mouth and tongue hurt like hell for several days after that, and it was difficult to even swallow.
Megan smiles, “My Mistress, Dr. Rutherford, and the other doctors here, all own slaves and are at the Factory quite often. I’m sure your Mistress heard about the free services of the clinic while she was…”
The bound woman lets out a startled cry as the door to the hallway suddenly bursts open and Dr. Rutherford enters the room and calls out, "He's in here!"
Nurse Gebhardt runs into the room, followed by Dr. Erikson. Dr. Rutherford grabs hold of my hair in one hand and my arm in another. I turn to break free but the woman has already gotten a positional advantage over me and is holding my arm back and up in a position that hurts like hell when I try to struggle. The hold is probably something she learned in the military. I twist again and Nurse Gebhardt takes hold of my other arm and shoulder from behind. I feel a collar going around my neck and gasp as it’s pulled tight.
“Hey!” I protest. This isn’t something a person would expect to have happen to them in a medical clinic. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
If this had happened to me before I spoke with Megan I’m not sure what my response would have been, but now, knowing that the staff are all Dominants, I suddenly feel myself submitting! The realization startles me and arouses me at the same time. Even though Roxanne isn’t here, the tendency to retreat into the Submissive is strong.
"Such a bad boy," Dr. Erikson says. "I see we'll have to keep you on a short leash while you're with us. Roxy didn't tell me you'd be this much trouble."
I want to speak, to demand they release me, to tell them I was put into this room by accident, but keep silent. Part of me decries the submissiveness that is controlling my actions. The results of the past few years of training is now clearly apparent to me, as I will not speak up to defend myself even when I know I have done no wrong. It is as they say. I am a bad boy. I will accept my punishment. The thought astonishes me as I accept and expect to be punished. Maybe I even look forward to being punished.
“Get this cur away from my bitch, Samantha. God, how disgusting!” Dr. Rutherford growls. Then turning to Megan, she says, “Did he touch you, my pet? He didn’t mount you did he?”
“No, Mistress,” I hear Megan respond softly.
A leash is attached to the collar buckled tightly around my neck and the flaming hot redhead pulls me from the room and into the hallway as if I’m resisting. Several patients poke their heads out of their rooms to see what all of the commotion is. Further down the hallway I see Dr. Keithly look out of a doorway, and then Sunflower peeks out from behind her, the light blue hospital gown untied in the back and falling to the side to expose her naked posterior. Sunflower begins to giggle but is pushed back into the room by the doctor before the door slams shut.
Dr. Erikson leads me, red-faced and embarrassed beyond words, through the hallway and into the proper exam room, closing the door with a resounding thud and then the metallic click. It sounds like an iron prison door slamming shut as I realize there’s no way out for me now.
She points at the exam table and says, “Sit!” in a voice too harsh to come from such a lovely creature. I sit, afraid now, unsure of what type of creature really lies beneath that beautiful image before me.
End of part 3
Copyright © 2012 by mrhungry. All rights reserved. I welcome your comments. Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org