Rick looked up at the clock in the small exam room the nurse had dropped him off in, and then went back to flipping through one of the magazines left there to keep him occupied, although he couldn’t stop the butterflies, thinking about his problem. He blushed a bit, and checked the room, but of course no one was in there. Still, he was so damn embarrassed…he just didn’t understand how things like this happened. Hell, the first day, he was certain he’d been imagining things, but he’d measured the next couple days, and sure enough, he’d been right. His cock…was shrinking.
Well, shrunk, really. A week ago, he’d had a long eight inch tool which could make a girl scream, but now…well, barely two inches were left, and his thumb was bigger around than the shaft. He’d looked all over the internet, read a few books, but he’d never seen anything like this, and as a young man who took pride in his looks and sexual veracity, he just hadn’t quite felt the same since it had started happening, and he had no clue what was up. He readjusted his crotch, still not used to the empty pouch, and checked the clock again, wishing the doctor would hurry up. However, he had to wait another five minutes before the doctor knocked on the door and stepped into the exam room.
The portly, middle aged doctor looked Rick up and down, and then looked at the chart for a moment, before speaking, “Hi Rick, I’m Doctor Anderson. What brings you in here today? The chart says you didn’t want to discuss it with the nurse.”
“Yeah…well, it’s kind of private. See, for the past week or so…” Rick started to say, but stopped and looked away.
“You know, unprotected sex happens, and STI’s are plenty common, and nothing to be ashamed of,” Doctor Anderson said, but Rick shook his head.
“No, trust me, it isn’t that–I only fuck with a condom…it’s that, well…my dick…my penis is shrinking.”
The doctor started at him, for a second, and Rick’s face turned beet red. “Well, I haven’t heard that one before,” the doctor said, “Could you be more specific? I understand that this is probably difficult to discuss, but I can’t help if I don’t know the details.”
“Well, I don’t know. It just started shrinking. I mean, it used to be eight inches, and now it’s down to two. I don’t know if it’s a disease, or what. I can’t find anything about this on line.”
“Hmm…” the doctor said, “Well, let’s have a look, I suppose. Could you strip for me?”
Rick nodded, and took off his clothes, leaving his underwear last, before dropping them down, and showing the doctor his shrunken penis.
Rick just stood there for a moment, while the doctor stared at his junk, and he found himself feeling even more humiliated than before. This was the first person he’d shown his problem to, and…and did the doctor just lick his lips? Was this guy a faggot or something, he wondered, as Doctor Anderson shook his head and blinked a few times, as though he were just waking up from a daydream.
“Hmm…yes, I see…” the doctor said, pulled an exam glove out and put it on his hand, “I think I’m…I’m gonna have to have a feel…to see what’s wrong.” Rick started feeling like something strange was going on, but he let the doctor wrap his gloved hand around his tiny cock, and he let out a surprised moan. His cock hadn’t been that sensitive when he’d touched it–but the doctor’s touch was like a stab of electricity–nothing had ever felt like that before. “Yeah, that’s it,” the doctor said, unzipping the fly of his pants with his other hand, while he gently massaged Rick’s tiny cock, “I’m afraid…I’m afraid you have a case of slutitis…don’t you, bitch? You’re a tiny-cocked little slut, aren’t you?”
“Oh…oh god, what are you doing?” Rick said, “Stop…stop please…” he moaned, but the doctor ignored him, and pulled Rick towards him into a tight grasp, his hand never leaving Rick’s stump.
“Stop? Why? Aren’t you enjoying this, slut? Fuck, you smell so good…” the doctor said, rubbing his rough beard against Rick’s neck. His other hand drifted down Rick’s back and gave his ass a sharp slap, making Rick jump, and push himself closer to the doctor.
He breathed in the doctor’s musky scent, and groaned. His cock was so hard…his little slut cock had never been hard like this before. He needed this man…needed something from him, but what? “Yeah…yeah my little slut cock is so hard for you, doctor. I must have a horrible case of slutitis. Is there any cure?” Rick winced a bit at the disgusting flirty tone in his voice, but he needed this man, needed the doctor to use him like the slut he was now.
“I don’t know, you case is pretty advanced. I’m gonna have to do a proctological exam to see if the cure would take. Bend over bitch, and show me your hole.” Rick slipped out of the doctor’s grasp and bent over the exam table, while the doctor found a bottle of lube for his gloved hand, and shoved two fingers right up Rick’s ass. He cried out in pain, but pushed back anyway. He had to be a slut, a total slut. He needed the doctor’ cock, had to make the good doctor happy. “Yeah, that’s a good bitch. You’re such a slut, feel how that hole opens? Why, I bet I could fit my whole fist up there. Would you like that slut? You want my fist up your slutty pussy?” he said, and slipped in a third finger.
“Oh god doc, yeah, this slut needs your whole fist up his pussy. My slutitis is so bad, help me doc, give me your fist sir, please…”
Grunting and huffing with lust, the doctor lathered up his hand with more lube and started working his fist deep into Rick’s ass, the young man in excruciating pain, but he deserved it. He was just a slut after all, just something for men to use, abuse, and toss away. He reached down and started rubbing his clit, but he couldn’t cum yet. He needed to please the doc, and then he could please himself, but not before. Then he would be a very bad slut indeed. With a final push, the doctor’s fist slipped in, and Rick felt pleasure surge through him. He felt so full–so satisfied. He was such a good slut.
“Fuck bitch,” the doctor said, “That hole of yours is loose as hell. You took my whole fist like it was nothing. How does it feel slut? It feel good to have a man’s fist in your pussyhole?”
“Oh yes sir,” Rick moaned, “But not as good as your cock would feel sir. Please fuck me sir, feed my pussyhole your cum. Fuk me so hard my clit spews a load all over the floor!”
“Oh fuck…oh fuck oh fuck! You’re gonna get it bitch,” the doctor said, and pulled out his fist after a couple of pumps, “You’re gonna get it, get ready for daddy’s big ass cock!” The doctor rubbed some lube on his cock, and found he was suddenly working with more that he’d had earlier that day. His five inch cock had gained at least three inches, if not more, and was nearly thicker than his fist. It was a good thing he’d warmed the slut up with his hand, because he was definitely going to get the fuck of his life. The doctor lined up his cock, and with one smooth push, buried himself pubes deep up Rick’s open hole, ignoring the screams of pain as he started fucking the hole as rough as he could. It was just a slut after all, why should he care how it felt? What mattered was his pleasure. The slut was just a tool, a fleshy hole to take his cum. He wrapped his hands around Rick’s hips to get a better grip and pounded in deeper and deeper, before unloading a massive wad of cum deep in Rick’s bowels, collapsing onto him in exhaustion, Rick sobbing a bit beneath him. He got up a moment later and pulled his cock out, wiping it clean before shoving it back down in his pants. “That was good slut. Clean up that cum of yours and show yourself out. I think you should schedule another treatment session for next week. In fact, just make it this time every week. We wouldn’t want that slutitis getting any worse, right?”
With a laugh, the doctor left Rick alone again, and he slumped down onto his knees, licking up the cum his clit had shot all over the side of the exam table, like the doctor had told him to, and then he got dressed, clarity–and shame–returning to him when he was clothed again, and he sat in the room for several minutes, crying and trying to sort out his feelings. It had felt so good…so good to be a slut, but now, afterwards, he felt horrible. He thought of all the women he’d roofied and raped over the years, all the sluts he’d used. Had they felt like this? He gathered up his things and left the room, passing the doctor in the hall, but the bearish man didn’t even look at him. Did he even remember? Had it even happened at all?
He tried to get out without being seen, but a receptionist stopped him to ask if he needed a reminder call for his appointment next week, and he said no. He would remember–he would remember just fine. As he left, he told himself that he wouldn’t go…but he knew he would. He was a slut now, and he was already thinking about his rugby practice this weekend…imaging all his buddies seeing his tiny cock–seeing him for the slut he was. Yeah, he had a bad case of slutitis alright, and he figured he was going to be getting treated for it every chance he could get.
Bracken's Corner 