Nymphomaniacs should not become General Practitioners. It's too stressful when we have male patients. The monitor on my desk is showing me the exam room where my only male patient since my med school disaster of 25 years ago awaits a visit by a very special diagnostician.
Planning this for several days in advance, I've followed my husband's advice and worn thigh hugger stockings instead of pantyhose, and my sexiest silk panties. I've removed the panties, loosened my bra, and put some toys within reach. I have my drugs ready in case this situation gets out of hand. The first drug that I would take would hopefully kill any desire to assault Mr. P. If that fails to keep me in the room, the second will make me violently ill. I have a waste basket handy for that.
I'm in my office with the door closed and locked. As the clinic's director and chief physician, I am the only member of the staff who can lock herself in, because of the personnel records that I store. I've left instructions not to disturb me while I try to clear my 'headache'. I'm also the only one on the staff who can monitor the exam rooms. The cameras were installed at the insistence of our malpractice insurer to create records for use in court. They feed images to a data storage something-or-other whenever there's anyone in one of the rooms. I've been cautioned to use my ability to delete the records sparingly.
I can make copies to other storage devices before deleting. I can review the records or watch in realtime and today I'm watching in realtime, anticipating an exciting show. In all my 59 years of life, I've done some tawdry things, mostly under the supervision of my loving husband. But I've never done anything like this and I'm so excited I can barely breathe.
Growing up, I was always an ugly duckling. At least that's how I saw myself. I entered college shy and sexually naive and socially awkward. By the time I graduated pre-med, I was married to the first man who ever took me on a date and he was slowly helping me to overcome my self-image problems. There was still one problem I couldn't overcome. The sight of a hard cock would drive me into obsession. I'm not talking about just arousal. There's a clinical term for it because we doctors love our Latin, but I'm trying to write this in layman's terms so I'll just call it nymphomania. The sight of a stiff penis, excuse me, a stiff cock triggers a manic episode. I go for the cock and if I don't get it, especially if it goes limp as I try, things can get pretty ugly.
My husband discovered my condition on our wedding night and we've both been very careful to make sure that I didn't embarrass myself in public or do anything that might risk my career or worse, land me in prison. I had one very close call during my last year of med school where the drugs I took to mitigate the reaction caused me to completely botch the required exam of a fellow student. I can't ethically take those drugs while I'm seeing a patient.
I've seen a psychiatrist for this problem and that didn't help. With the cooperation of my loving husband, I experimented with ways to contain my impulses. We also tested the limits of my behavior. We found several ways to get around my condition. Sometimes my husband ties me up tightly, like a werewolf's keeper in preparation for full moon night. He then drives me absolutely crazy with the sight of his cock. Sometimes he leaves one hand free and I masturbate furiously, angry that he both causes and sees me in this depraved state. It makes his cock even harder. After I come, the anger evaporates and the mania dissipates.
But I like it better when he binds both arms behind me before teasing me. He shows me his cock, then he shows me his grasp of Latin with a skillful display of cunnilingus until I am thoroughly sated. When he unties me after such an episode, we are able to make love as if I had no condition. We save that method for special occasions. For most of our lovemaking, we just use darkness or hide his erection under bedsheets to keep me from seeing it.
I somehow graduated from med school and I've maintained a private practice in family medicine without a career-ending incident. In my sixteen years of practice to the point where I took on my first adult male patient, I examined only women and children. No man ever requested me as his primary care doc, and on the few occasions when I saw adult male patients, it was in a controlled setting where I didn't see their genitals. But because of the rules of one of the PPOs that our clinic joined, and also because of the amount of government funding that our small rural clinic received, I couldn't exclude male patients from initial consults without excluding all new patients. That's because I'm a General Practitioner and that means I'm subject to some politically correct bullshit rules about non-discrimination.
The non-discrimination rules are meant mainly to protect female patients, but when a man requested me as his primary care physician, I clearly couldn't argue away the initial consult without revealing that I had questionable motives for discriminating against male patients. I expressed my concerns to my husband, but he seemed disturbingly excited at the prospect of me seeing a male patient. He offered to help desensitize me, knowing that the only sure method for that was an orgasm shortly before exposure to a hard cock.
Mr. P, actually intrigued me from the start. He was 45 at the time of the initial consult. He was married, rather tall, with just a slight paunch on a slender frame. He was going prematurely gray and losing his hair, but he had clear blue eyes and fair skin. From his written history, I learned that he had been hospitalized once with a stress related ulcer, but had no current health issues. He just needed to have a physician on record for emergency contact for his job.
The first thing I wanted to know during the initial consult was why he selected me, a woman, as his physician. I knew that some men had sexual reasons for choosing to be seen by female docs. Exhibitionism and a desire to be touched and probed are among those reasons and I sought signs of that in his words. I did not expect to hear that it was an aversion to male "authority figures" that drove him to me.
I asked a few probing questions that quickly gave me the impression that he had suffered some trauma at the hands of some man or men in his past. He was clearly a bit anxious about being seen by a woman, but he assured me that I was not the first, offered references to his previous doctors, and convinced me that his concern was not personal comfort but safety because he did not trust himself to be honest and open with male doctors. He was afraid that his condition would compromise his health.
I told him that I normally didn't see male patients and that it was common practice in our clinic that men were seen by Dr. M and women and children were seen by me or by the three female Physician Assistants that I supervised. I explained that it was a policy for the protection of both the doctor and patient from gender related issues. He explained that he was more concerned about sexual advances from a male doctor than from a female doctor, but that he had no difficulty with maintaining a professional doctor/patient relationship with any of the female doctors he had previously been seen by, prior to his relocation to our area.
I assured him that he would not be in any danger from Dr. M and that his health care with a male doctor might be better due to a greater familiarity with male health issues, but he insisted that he preferred to have a woman who is familiar with his emotional issues in an oversight position for his health care. He said that he had sought counseling for his aversion from a female psychiatrist, but that his anxieties around male authority figures were persistent.
I began to understand that he would not likely visit a male doctor until any condition he had was potentially fatal. I didn't want that on my conscience, so I offered him the option of seeing the PAs, so that he wouldn't feel I was his only option, but he told me that he had heard good things about me from several of my female patients who preferred me to the PAs. They were younger and prettier women, so I assumed that if there was a sexual element to his desire to be seen by a woman, he would choose one of them, but I heard nothing in his answers to suggest that he was concerned about anything other than the quality of the health care he would receive.
Finally, I asked about his present obvious state of anxiety. He explained that he was always nervous about exams but also worried about being rejected as a patient. That pretty much convinced me to accept him as my patient. I could have examined him right then, but I lost my nerve. Had I desensitized myself before the interview, I might have been brave enough to risk it. I explained that there would be no exam that day unless there was a particular reason, because annual exams are no longer considered necessary for men in his age range, but I assured him that I would be his primary care physician and would try to minimize the need for care by male specialists.
I told him that age 50 was the time for the next scheduled head-to-toe physical. His anxiety evaporated right away and he thanked me. I told him to schedule annual blood draws for cholesterol testing and that I would make sure only female lab techs would draw his blood and that I would phone him with the results. We shook hands and I felt an unexpected, but completely controllable, twinge of desire for him.
The next few years saw only rare visits from my only male patient for minor conditions, none of which exposed me to anything below his belt. I had almost forgotten he was my patient when suddenly I saw that he was scheduled for "the big five-oh" exam. I studied up on male anatomy and faced the exam with some trepidation. To add to my concern, he had included testicular pain as one of his reasons for the appointment when he scheduled the exam.
To be extra safe, I spent a few private minutes in my office desensitizing myself before the exam. When I entered the exam room, he was wearing only a cloth gown with a slit up the back and he was seated on the exam table as requested. Despite having just had an orgasm prior to entering the room, I felt my nipples harden at the thought of seeing beneath that gown.
We talked for a while about the testicular pain issue and about the colonoscopy that he would be scheduled for, but I knew that I couldn't put off the exam forever. I nervously started with his eyes, ears, nose and throat. From there I lowered the top of his gown and checked his heart and respiratory sounds with a stethoscope. I had him lie back on the table and palpated his upper abdominal organs. My eyes roamed over all exposed skin, noting the color and condition of it. So far, he was in very good health, but I could tell from the squishy feeling between my thighs that my pussy was drenching my panties.
We came to the moment of truth. I had him stand and I lifted the front of his gown, looking him in the eyes as I asked him to hold it up. I sat on a stool and dropped my gaze. There in front of my face was his cock. I thought I was going to come right then, despite the fact that it was completely flaccid and a better description would be retracted, probably because the exam rooms are so cold.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I felt no uncontrollable urge to make it erect and then pounce on it. With my gloved hands I carefully lifted the tip and verified that there was no runny discharge or inflammation around the slit of his urethra. I don't think he noticed, but I deliberately inhaled through my nose to detect any off odors. I smelled an indescribable but pleasant scent that made my heart race. I carefully examined the head, shaft and scrotum for obvious abnormalities and there were none.
My breathing was definitely shaky as I gently squeezed various parts to verify that there were no abnormal hidden lumps. I carefully squeezed the structures in his scrotum and saw his body stiffen when I found the tender spot that must have has some sub-dermal inflammation. When I was finished, with the genital exam, I was torn between wanting to keep looking at his marvelous organ and proceeding to the next, more risky exam. I was afraid that if I stared too long, it would become too obvious that my interest was not strictly professional.
When I had him drop the gown, it was still not aroused. I had him turn around and bend over the table. I spread his butt cheeks and checked the color and condition of his anus. I stood and then slipped my lubed finger into his rectum. I briefly checked his prostate and felt none of the conditions that would indicate trouble. I knew that this part of the exam could cause an erection, so after I removed my finger, I averted my eyes and told him to wipe and dress. It was then that he reminded me about the pain in his testicle and when I turned to answer him, he had completely shed the gown and was still stepping into on his undershorts. Still no erection.
To tell the truth, I felt a little disappointed. I wondered two things. The first was why I was so unattractive to him that I could do all that and nor arouse him. I was the one who was supposed to have the professional detachment and I was horny as hell from the experience. The second was whether there was some problem with his reproductive functions, either causing the pain or inhibiting erection, so I attempted to add Close Neural Focus on the order for an ultrasound of his genitals. Unfortunately, I wrote CNF instead of CNeF.
When he left the exam room, I followed behind him until I reached the restroom door. I locked myself in and quickly dropped my panty hose and sopping panties. I spread my legs as I sat on the toilet and masturbated. The relief shuddered through me and I could hardly wait to get home and tell my husband about it.
As I related the details to my husband that evening, he apparently hid the fact that hearing about me touching another man's cock and probing his rectum gave him an erection. We had good sex in the dark that night, but it still bothered me that Mr. P had no reaction to being fondled, carressed and probed by me.
I later received photos and a video from the exam that showed that the ultrasound tech had actually triggered an erection and an orgasm. Oops. Watching the video got me pretty hot, but nothing like seeing a real erection. It did tell me however that there was no problem with his reproductive functions. I did my best to hide my error when I called him with the results. I prescribed a treatment of anti-inflammatory drugs for one month with instructions to schedule a follow up exam if the pain persisted. I almost hoped I would see him again soon, but he did not return after the course of treatment was finished.
The next appointment came out of the blue when Mr. P was age 54. I couldn't believe my eyes when I read that the reason for the appointment was erectile dysfunction. Of all the luck. I called in a consulting diagnostician who specializes in male reporductive health issues. Some of the doctors who employ her call her Sister Celeste. Rumor has it that she left a nunnery just before taking her vows because she wanted to help people. I haven't asked her about that, because I want to believe it is true and don't want to risk discovering otherwise. Some of the guilt I have felt over my 'sinful' condition is due to my religious upbringing. According to the psychiatrist who couldn't help me, tThat might even be partly causitive of my condition.
Celeste has a controversial approach to diagnosing ED, but I knew that with her help I would feel better about my diagnosis and I could thus avoid sending him to a male specialist. I would however have to give him another exam to make sure his health was good enough for attempting her process. This time, given the circumstances, I was feeling a little braver. I didn't think anybody would expect a 59 year old woman to be trying to coax an erection out of a 54 year old patient, but that's what I was doing. I was checking for obvious physical causes of his problem but in the process, I fondled his cock and even stroked it some. I stuck two fingers in his ass and worked his prostate over as best I could and still there was no sexual response, from him anyway. I was quite turned on.
I turned him over to Celeste with an otherwise clean bill of health. Then went to my office, which is where I am now, watching as Celeste enters the room. Mr. P is lying flat on the extra wide exam table. It's where we normally examine our more obese patients, but she requested it because she finds it more suitable for her skillset. He's wearing only a patient exam gown. She takes a resting blood pressure reading and then draws blood samples. I can hear them because the surveillance system is designed to capture both sound and video. I'm using an ear phone so I don't have to risk anyone outside my office hearing. I listen carefully as Celeste starts to sell her diagnostic technique.
"Mr. P, in order to get a diagnosis it would be helpful if we could get a semen sample. It would also be helpful if I could use my specialty verify that all your parts function normally. This would involve using some drugs that wake up the things that might be sleeping. This basically means that I will discover how to give you an erection and trigger an orgasm. I use a variety of methods, but the most reliable and diagnostically revealing is to have safe sex with you. This all might seem sort of unusual, but with the large number of aging men in our society, the medical profession is adapting to be able to assist them in having happy lives. I am licensed in this state to perform these procedures for these purposes. I see from your records that you're married. If you're worried that this would be cheating on your wife, please understand that this is a medical procedure to help get your penis working again for her as well as for you. You might not want to tell her about it because this practice is controversial. This is a private matter between you, me and your doctor. This procedure normally takes about an hour and the doctor will see you afterward. Does this sound like something you would be interested in?"
Of course he answers yes. Celeste is quite attractive. I'm very pleased that all my preparation was worthwhile. She puts on latex exam gloves and starts by fondling up under his gown. After a few minutes, she unbuttons her shirt and begins to stroke one her nipples. He clearly enjoys seeing her do this, but he apologizes when it doesn't result in an erection.
"It's okay, Mr. P. Does this feel pleasant, unpleasant or mostly neither."
She finishes removing her shirt and injects the first drug into a vein in his arm.
"This is essentially Viagra, but it will work much more quickly because it's being directly injected."
She pulls his gown up and to the side, exposing his genitals. She begins to fondle him again and his cock begins to slowly grow. I feel an immediate urge to jump up and join them in the exam room. Actually the urge is to impale myself on him and masturbate. My hand reaches for the drugs, but I take several deep breaths and repeat to myself, 'This is only a porno video.' It doesn't really fool me, because I know he's just down the hall. I know that if I was in the room with them, I would have to be physically restrained. But my practice with pornography has desensitized me somewhat when I see mens' magic wands on a screen. I reach instead for some clamps. I pinch each nipple very hard with a clamp and that quells the assault urge down to a manageable level.
"The snake is rising," Celeste says. "How does this feel?"
"Sorta pleasant, but not really erotic. It's like it isn't fully connected to my brain."
She removes her pants and is now wearing all black. A sheer bra, matching thong panties and thigh-hugging stockings seem to really grab his attention. She reaches into her bag to retrieve a breathing mask. It's connected by a clear hose to a small tank. After explaining what it is, she straps the mask to his face and turns the valve on the tank and places it in a drawer in the side of the exam table. As she continues stroking his cock, I pull up my skirt and begin fondling my mound. She cuts off the gas and removes the mask.
"How do you feel now."
"Fine." He seems a little drunk to me.
"Does your snake feel any better?"
"Not really, but I feel really good."
The euphoriant has removed his inhibitions, verifying that inhibition is not the problem as his cock skrinks slightly without it, a side effect of the gas that would be meaningless if inhibition was blocking his erection. It is good to rule out the physical aspect of blood flow and the emotional aspect of inhibition, but that leaves me with the belief that it is likely to be low production of testostone at the root of his condition. Fortunately, she has a test for that.
Celeste gets his permission to restrain his wrists for the most risky part of her process, a brief testosterone spike. She injects him quickly and slips a condom onto his cock. She removes her panties and climbs up over him. His cock quickly hardens and I struggle to keep myself in my office. I place another clamp, this time on my clitoris and I squeeze it very hard. This kills the desire to leave the room.
Celeste slides herself down on his cock and I slide a big dildo up inside me. I turn a vibrator on and remove the clamp from my clit. I ease the tip of the vibrator down and begin to circle it around my clit as she starts to ride his cock. I can no longer see more than little flashes of his cock and that helps quell the urge to get personally involved with him. I see Celeste's beautiful body much better, but the look on Mr. P's face grabs my complete attention. He's 100% focused on her, looking at her the way a starving man would focus on a juicy cut of filet mignon. It's much like the look I would imagine is on my face when I see a thick, long, hard cock.
Celeste starts to moan as Mr. P starts to roll his hips to meet her downstrokes with his upstrokes. He moans, too, as I stifle mine. I'm now applying the vibrator directly to my clit with lots of pressure and I feel my orgasm approach. I think he comes first, but she quickly follows and then she climbs off from him and removes the restraints. He's still hard, but there is clearly a good dose of milky semen in the condom. His cock is jutting almost straight up as he gets off the exam table and she bends over it. He feeds his cock into her doggy style and I can see it much better than before. He puts his hands on her hips, and thrusts. As his cock disappears and reappears, I begin to come. It quickly becomes the best orgasm I've had in years and continues, sending wave after wave of pleasure through me, curling my toes and straining my ability to remain quiet. It finally tapers off, just as Celeste comes again, followed by Mr. P.
Celeste dresses, removes the condom, and ties a knot in it. This is my cue to tidy myself up and get back out for when she delivers her diagnosis to me. I get the nipple clamps off first, put the toys and drugs away, straighten my clothing and get back out of my office, my headache miraculously cured by my brief 'rest' period.
I see her tossing the specimen cup with the used condom into a medical waste can. She tells me with high confidence that low testosterone is the root of his problem, and that Cialis will help boost his confidence, but she prepares the blood samples for shipment to the lab, knowing that I can't prescribe hormone replacement therapy without a confirming blood sample on record.
I go back into the exam room and give Mr. P the news. Assuming his blood test confirms Celeste's diagnosis, he'll benefit from a daily low dose of Cialis and hormone replacement therapy. I'll have to see him more often now, to check him for side effects of whichever low-T treatment; gel, patch or injection he chooses. I'm looking forward to it, and to reviewing the video of this session. I tell him that he can get dressed now and that I will write the prescription for the Cialis. I avert my eyes, turning to a screen to begin entering the data in the prescription form. I can see his reflection on the screen.
He thanks me for not sending him to a male specialist and I hear the swish of his gown being removed. I see that he is staring at my ass and beginning to get hard again. He tucks his cock into his boxers as my heart flutters and I feel that urge awaken. I think about the camera and how I will have to be careful with any future exams. I plan to enjoy telling my husband about today's visit. I may even ask him to tie me up first.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com
with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/straight-sex/the-secret-sex-life-of-dr-f.aspx">The Secret Sex Life of Dr. F</a>