The Dilation Treatment
This story is a work of fiction and all characters, events, and locations described in it are purely fictional. No resemblance or connection to any living or deceased person or real-world event or location is intended.
...
Paul Hansen sat in the waiting room of the urgent care clinic, feeling a bit better than he had the past couple of hours. For the third day in a row, he had woken up with a sharp pain in his lower abdomen and perianal area that seemed to flare into his genitals and lower back as well. It had occurred on and off for years, and he had always ignored it. This morning, though, Paul's moaning woke his roommate, Tom, and he dragged Paul to the doctor.
"Mr. Hansen?" The nurse called from the station. Paul approached her and she directed him to the doctor's office past the door behind her. Tom followed Paul. The two men, both 24, were totally heterosexual and purely platonic friends, but they did almost everything together. If one of them had to go to the barber or the DMV or even the doctor, the other usually tagged along.
Tom got as comfortable as he could on a metal chair by the wall as the nurse weighed Paul and took his height before helping him off with his shirt to record his vital signs and take several vials of blood.
"The doctor will be right in," she said in a rather automatic way before dismissing herself.
"What do you think it could be?," Paul asked. A look of worry on his face.
"Hey, you've said this has been happening for years? How long exactly?"
"Since puberty I guess."
"So ten, twelve years now. If it was super serious it would have killed you already, and look at you: you're fine. Probably just a nerve thing."
"Hello, I'm Dr. Stonehouse!" The short, bald, sprightly old man burst into the room and shook Tom's hand. "I've been Paul's doctor since he was a boy."
"Nice to meet you!"
"Hi Doc!" Paul said, trying to sound cheerful.
"And it's because of that I'm surprised to read here this has been going on for years and you've never said anything to me!"
"I didn't think it was that serious."
"Don't you think I'd be a better judge of that? Why don't you describe this pain to me, as detailed as you can."
"Well it's usually when I've been sleeping or I'm relaxed and then it comes out of nowhere. It's like a deep, sharp pain in my... in my anus and inside my anus, and it gets worse and worse and spreads to my balls and my lower back. Then it just goes away on its own after a while.
"Uh huh. And how often would you say this happens?"
"Every day for a couple weeks, then it'll be nothing for a few months until it starts again."
"Aah, I see. And this has been going on since puberty you say?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why don't you pop your pants off for me and lay back. I think I know what this is but I want to take a look at a few things."
Paul did as ordered and folded his pants and underpants before handing them to Tom. He lay back on the exam table revealing his fit runner's build. Muscular, but not at all bulky, his frame was sprinkled over with sparse, light-brown body hair. Paul's soft pink nipples were prominent on his firm but round-edged pecs. His stomach was flat with abdominal muscles only visible in certain positions. His genitals were compact and sporty, with his circumcised penis barely extending beyond his grape-sized testicles. As he repositioned himself to get comfortable, his tight pink anus, the exact color of his nipples, was briefly visible to the doctor and Tom.
Dr. Stonehouse took his stethoscope and listened to Paul's abdomen for several minutes before palpating the area with his fingertips. He then took Paul's testicles and rolled them around in his hand a bit, before giving the tip of his penis a little pinch and a close look.
He moved to the foot of the exam table and extended the stirrups. "Scooch down toward me." He put Paul's feet in the stirrups and spread them wide so that the boy's anus was fully visible.
"Am I in your way, Tom?" Dr. Stonehouse turned and asked.
"No, sir, I can see fine," Tom answered. He appreciated the consideration.
Dr. Stonehouse then placed the bell of his stethoscope where one had never been on Paul's body: right behind his testicles. The doctor listened intently to Paul's taint for a minute or so before lubricating a finger and gently sliding it into Paul's anus. He continued to listen while slowly inserting and removing his finger several times until Paul's sphincter suddenly and very tightly gripped at his finger.
The telltale sign.
Dr. Stonehouse was 90% sure of his diagnosis, and right on cue the other 10% came in. The nurse entered and handed him a printed report of the lab tests he had ordered.
"Aah, just as I thought!"
The doctor stood and went to raised the head of the exam table to talk to Paul.
"Paul, you have a condition called 'Receptive Androphiliac Disuse Neuralgia,' or 'RADN.'"
"Receptive androwhat?"
"Re... the name isn't so important." Dr. Stonehouse thought better than explain the root cause of the condition before Paul was ready. "What's important is that it is very easily treatable with some simple exercises."
"What kind of exercises?"
"Dilation exercises, three times a week. I'm going to refer you to a dilation therapist I've known quite a while. He's the best, I assure you."
Dr. Stonehouse gave Paul a business card that read 'Jonas Slate: Anorectal Massage Therapist,' with a phone number and website. He also gave Paul a prescription with '4" x 30min, 3x/week, incr. to 8" as toler.' scrawled across it.
"Give that to Mr. Slate. I'll tell him to expect you tomorrow."
...
"Are you gonna go in, or are we gonna sit here all day?" Tom asked. He and Paul were sitting in Tom's old Volkswagen in front of the address printed on the card, which turned out to be a gym.
"Why would this guy be working out of a gym?"
"Maybe it's like a personal trainer kind of situation?"
In jeans and a flannel shirt, Paul didn't feel dressed right for whatever this was.
"Maybe I'll work out while you're with this guy." Tom popped out of the car and went around back to the trunk. Not a shy bone in his body, he stripped off his jeans, underwear, and wool sweater right there in the parking lot and put on a tank top and running shorts he fished out of a backpack. He then went around to the passenger door and opened it, and yanked Paul to his feet. "C'mon buddy, this is for your own good. Doctor's orders, remember?"
"Yeah yeah."
As they walked into the building Paul noticed their reflections on the glass door and saw that Tom's cockhead occasionally poked out of his shorts leg when he took a step. He thought better than to mention it.
They went up to the front desk. "Uh, hi. I'm here to see a Jonas Slate?" Paul showed the receptionist the business card.
"Oh, certainly. Mr. Slate works in the locker room, it's right around the corner."
"He works IN the locker room?" Paul had never heard of such a strange arrangement.
"Yes sir, right around that way." The receptionist turned toward Tom. "And how can I help you?"
"I'm with him, but I might wanna check out the gym. Do I need to buy like a day pass or something?"
"If you want to use the facilities, yes. A day pass will be ten dollars."
"Hey Paul. No money -- no pockets!" Tom pulled at the sides of his shorts to demonstrate this lack of pockets, causing his penis to dangle a full two inches below the hemline of his left leg.
Paul handed a credit card to the receptionist.
After getting his day pass, the two made their way back to the locker room. It was a fairly standard mid-century gym setup. Rows of metal lockers with wooden benches in front of them. A large open shower area at the back with doors on the other side labeled "Pool." Off to the side of the shower area there was a dry sauna and a steam room, and a middle-aged man in shorts and a polo shirt sitting at a small desk.
"Mr. Slate?" Paul asked him.
"Yes, that's me. Call me Joe. Are you Paul or Nathaniel?"
"I'm Paul."
"Great. Ready to get started?"
"Um, I guess. I didn't know this place was a gym. I don't feel like I'm dressed right."
"Well, many of my clients like to work out just before a session, but it's no matter. It's like a massage. You'll be nude and covered with a towel for the session."
That seemed reasonable enough to Paul.
"Go store your clothes while I set up," Joe ordered. Something in his voice made Paul not want to argue. Joe gave Paul an extra-large white towel.
As Paul undressed, Tom threw his shirt and shoes in with Paul's clothes. "I'm gonna go for a swim. See you in a bit bro. Good luck!"
Tom's pale blue running shorts were already semi-translucent fully dry. Paul could not imagine the addition of water improving the situation.
"Have a good swim. I'll be here!"
Paul returned to Joe's desk, towel around his waist, and Joe had set up a massage table. He patted the top of it and told Paul to hop on. "Just lie on your stomach and relax."
Paul did as told. "Should I close my eyes?"
"Whatever you like," Joe answered.
Joe loosened the towel around Paul's waist and draped it loosely over him, exposing his upper back and shoulders. Paul closed his eyes. This didn't stop him from being acutely aware of how "on show" he was to the rest of the locker room. They were in full view of the shower area and anybody coming or going through the pool doors, as well as the sauna. He felt a cool sensation out of nowhere as Joe began squeezing massage oil over his shoulders.
Joe lightly massaged Paul's neck and shoulders for several minutes and he could feel Paul begin to relax beneath his touch. He worked his way down Paul's back, lowering the towel as he went, and felt the young man go limp as he kneaded his muscles like pizza dough. Joe took an elbow and pressed firmly all the way up Paul's spine and the young man let out a loud grunt of relief and approval.
Joe then went to Paul's feet and worked certain acupressure points for several minutes before rubbing them out and moving up to his ankles, raising the towel as he went along. Joe moved up Paul's muscular calves and then his thighs. By this point the towel used to cover Paul was rolled up almost entirely on his lower back and Joe knew it was the right time to drop that pretense. Paul felt fresh air on his back and heard a "plop" as the towel landed in the basket outside the sauna. He was too relaxed to care about being nude amongst all these strangers.
Joe worked Paul's buttocks for quite a while, taking not of how he gently lifted his hips and arched his back whenever he grazed Paul's anus with the side of his hand.
Telltale sign.
Joe gently helped Paul to turn over on his back, and massaged the young man's chest and arms before moving down to his lower abdomen. He massaged Paul's abs for quite a while.
"We're just gonna give you a quick rinse-out before we begin."
"We haven't begun?"
"This is just preliminary."
Paul kept his eyes closed and felt as Joe lifted his knees and inserted a small hose into his anus. He jumped a bit at that, but soon fell back into relaxation. Joe turned on the water for a few seconds, then had Paul push it out. He repeated the procedure several times before removing the hose and rinsing Paul down and reapplying more oil over his genitals and anal area.
Joe went to his desk, which looked so very incongruous in the middle of a locker room, and retrieved a briefcase, which looked even more out-of-place.
He opened the case. Inside it were a series of tapered stainless steel rods. The smallest was about as large around as his thumb. The largest was the diameter of his forearm, and there were three even larger ones under the padding. Each had a ruler printed on it starting at the small tapered end.
Joe showed the case to Paul. "I'm gonna start you out with his one," he said, pointing to the third rod, about as big around as a dry-erase marker. "The idea is to work you up to this one eventually," he said, pointing to the wrist thick one, "but probably just this one today." He tapped on one in the middle about as big around as an English cucumber.
Joe aligned Paul's buttocks with a white line marked on his massage table, and positioned his feet. He began to insert rod #3. It went in far too easily. He began to suspect Paul had a worse case of RADN than the doctor had let on. He pulled out #3 and put it in the discard tray to sterilize. He skipped right over #4 and grabbed #5, the cucumber-thick one.
He inserted #5 and felt just the right amount of resistance from Paul's anus. Paul's eyes opened wide and he inhaled sharply. Good, good. It was working. He made it to the prescribed 4-inch mark and felt no increase in resistance, and pushed further before stopping at the 7-inch mark. Joe held the rod while flipping up a metal clamp on the massage table that would hold the rod in place for him.
"Now you just relax and stay still, I'm gonna go get a cup of coffee. Be back in a few."
With the rod clamped in place, Paul had no other choice but to relax and stay still. He stared at the lights on the ceiling, and was aware of men's voices in the locker room. He could hear the showers running and sense when men were walking by. He felt very exposed.
"Uh, hey. You know if we're allowed to turn up the thermostat in the sauna here?" He heard a voice ask.
He lifted his head slightly to see a nude middle-aged man with auburn hair and grey sideburns look inquisitively at him.
"I'm not sure, sir. I'm new here."
"Well I'll turn it up anyway," the man laughed and gave the massage table a heavy clap. "You have fun with your little spa treatment there."
When the man clapped against the table, Paul felt something electric deep inside him. The rod vibrated like a tuning fork with the reverberation. Paul's flaccid penis released a squirt of viscous, clear fluid that arched over his belly and onto his chest.
"Careful there, pal. You're gonna get your eye next time!"
The man retreated into the sauna.
Paul lay there for what felt like a very long time before Joe returned.
"Alright, alright. Let's get this one out and move you up a notch," he announced rather loudly as if what the two of them were doing was not private in any way.
Joe unclamped he rod and removed it from Paul, being careful to note how long it took Paul's anus to come to a close. He tossed the rod aside to be sterilized and grabbed the next one up.
He felt a bit more resistance going in with this rod and only pushed it in six inches this time. He clamped it in place. This time Joe stayed with Paul, massaging his abdominal muscles gently.
Tom came in from the pool and took in the sight. "So uh, this is gonna cure him?" he asked Joe.
"I take it you're the roommate? Tom was it?" Joe took Tom out of Paul's earshot between two rows of lockers."
"Yeah, I'm Paul's roommate."
"We don't like to call this a cure, but this treatment will alleviate most of his symptoms. The only cure is the real thing."
"What do you mean the 'the real thing?'"
Joe had not considered that Tom didn't know about Paul, but that seemed to be the case.
"Well, Joe. Paul needs cock. He's a faggot and he needs to be inseminated by a man. That's what's causing his pain That's what RADN is."
"He's no faggot, I've known him since high school!"
"The doctor ran all the tests yesterday, I assure you he is. But Dr. Stonehouse also said Paul doesn't know yet, and it can be very damaging to tell him before he's come to the conclusion himself, so we keep doing these treatments in the mean time."
"How does this dilation treatment help?"
"Well, the faggot's body produces several important endorphins during penetration, and this stimulates that penetration and he'll produce them. This helps a lot. Personally, I have found the smells of male pheromones present in a locker room aid this process immensely."
"But not like the real thing?"
"Not by a long shot. Modern science has identified over a dozen different hormones and micronutrients produced by penetrating males that 'receptive androphiliacs' or faggots need. This treatment can't replace those. Paul is eventually going to need deep, regular insemination to live his healthiest life."
"That's really fascinating." Tom looked over at his friend and saw him differently. Paul was desperately moving himself back and forth on the metal rod sticking out of him, making a bit of a spectacle of himself in front of the other men in the locker room. Simulating a 'real thing' he didn't even know he needed. Poor thing.
Paul's movements against the steel rod were totally instinctive and unconscious. He had not even realized he was doing it. He was suddenly aware of Joe and Tom looming over him.
"Almost done, buddy. You held up like a champ today!" Joe said. Then turning to Tom, "now watch this."
Joe unclamped the rod and pulled it out of Paul. The two men stared at Paul's pulsing anus as it gradually closed, purely in a spirit of scientific inquiry. Joe then took his first two fingers and inserted them in Paul, and expertly massaged his prostate until he released a generous ooze of semen. Two gym patrons had exited the sauna and got a close up view of the show.
"Ok Tom. Take Paul here to go shower. He's going to need you to keep him steady on his feet at first. Make sure he urinates before you leave today. Paul, I'll see you again the day after tomorrow, bright and early!"
"I'll be here too," Tom said. "I bought a membership plan."
Paul was too woozy to realize it must have been on his credit card. Tom led him over to the shower and Paul soaped up from a dispenser. Tom only ever took plain water showers. "None of that chemical shit on me!" He'd say. Paul rinsed off and then repeated the process and as he rinsed a second time, Tom said, "C'mon, take a peepee, buddy."
Paul didn't want to do that with other men in the shower, but Tom was insistent that they were not leaving until he did, so Paul released his bladder.
"That's a good boy, Pauly. Let's head home."
...
Two days later, Paul and Tom returned. Tom was in a muscle shirt and a pair of shorts that managed to be even more obscene than the ones from their previous visit. Paul had opted for a plain t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts from which he assumed Tom had removed the lining at some point. It didn't disappear in the wash, after all.
When they arrived, Joe was still in the middle of his first appointment for the day. An older man, possibly in his 60s, lay on the massage table with his feet behind his head. Paul marveled at how someone could be so flexible as Joe endeavored to insert a stainless steel object the approximate size and shape of an oatmeal canister into the gentleman's rectum. With a great deal of grunting and groaning from both Joe and the man on the table, he managed to get it in to the appropriate depth and clamped it off. The man lay twitching and shaking for a few moments before calming down.
"Hi Tom, hi Paul! I'll be done here and ready for you in about forty minutes. Why don't you go for a run or a swim in the mean time. Loosen yourself up."
"I might go work on my chest," Paul replied.
"No. No lifting on therapy days. Something aerobic. Need to keep you nice and loose."
"Ok then, a run it is, see you in forty."
"Nice to see you again," Tom chimed in. He and Paul went out the gym, but not before catching sight of the man on the table as he began masturbating his soft cock. Smiling away with his feet behind his head. Neither a care in the world nor an ounce of self-consciousness.
Paul and Tom found treadmills and started their run. It had only been two days, but Tom had already noticed some subtle changes in Paul. He was more cheerful and upbeat. There was something else too, but Tom couldn't put his finger on it. Unconsciously though, he could sense Paul was beginning to display submissive behaviors toward him. He had come home yesterday to find Paul neatly folding his laundry and putting it away. Paul usually just dumped Tom's clean clothes on his bed and left it. Paul had also done the cooking and the dishes for two days now with no complaint.
Tom did not know it yet, but these behaviors would only increase now that he was receiving dilation treatment. The treatment triggered a submissive response in the homosexual and Tom being the main male in Paul's life would make him the target of this response.
The men continued to run until it was time to return. Tom dismissed himself once again for a swim. He was wearing shorts with a tie-up enclosure in the front, but he had removed the lace so the enclosure hung open, revealing the upper part of his thick black pubic patch. The only thing keeping those shorts up was the fact they were too small. Paul could not imagine the flimsy white-and-orange patterned nylon would leave anything to the imagination once Tom hit the water.
The older man from before was showering, sporting a bright yellow butt plug Joe had given him to wear home as a "cool down" from his treatment. Smaller than the stainless steel device Joe had inserted in him, but still quite large.
Joe instructed Paul to go store his clothing. There was no offer of a towel this time. Joe generally reserved that for the first treatment, a cumbersome nod toward modesty it was best to do away with quickly.
Paul climbed up on the table and lay on his stomach. As before, Joe gave him a very thorough massage, a bit deeper and harder this time. He seemed to spend a lot more time on the acupressure points of Paul's feet. Paul didn't know, but Joe was doing this to observe his anal reactions. When he flipped over, Joe massaged Paul's front for a while before bringing his knees up to his chest and rolling his hips around to stretch out his pelvic muscles. He then began stretching Paul's legs up as far as he could stand. The eventual goal was for Paul to have his feet behind his head for dilation, but he was not there yet.
In the meanwhile, Paul would hold his knees up to his chest for the duration. Joe had straps to secure them in place if need be. After working Paul's sphincter with one, then two, and finally three fingers for several minutes, Joe went straight to rod #5 today. He inserted it to the max 8" allowed by the prescription and made a mental not to call Dr. Stonehouse to get that extended to 10".
As with the day before, Joe clamped the rod in place and left Paul to go get his coffee. He returned in fifteen minutes to find the boy relaxed with a lovely tranquil look upon his face. Joe went into his desk drawer and retrieved a small rubber mallet. He unclamped the rod and instead held it in place with his left hand, and with his right hand gently struck the steel rod with the mallet. Joe could feel the reverberation up and down his arm and knew whatever Paul was feeling was ten times as intense.
Paul inhaled sharply and audibly and momentarily lifted his head off the table.
"Relax, little buddy. Just lay still and keep calm." Joe struck the rod again, and Paul gasped once more.
Joe was suddenly aware of a presence behind him. He turned his head. It was Tom.
"Hi. Joe. Is it ok if I just observe the session? I just find it super interesting!"
"By all means. You can stick around," Joe smiled at the soaking wet man in shorts as transparent as wax paper on a hot day. He couldn't help but notice that while the shorts contained the middle five inches of Tom's flaccid penis, a half inch at the base and another half inch at the tip were exposed. He wondered what would happen if Tom got erect in public wearing those.
Joe returned his attentions to Paul and struck the rod, much harder this time. He dropped the mallet and used both hands to hold the rod in place as the vibrations worked through Paul, who had begun to release a slow flow of pre-ejaculate that was pooling on his pubis.
"Come here, Tom." Joe took Tom's hand and placed in on the rod. "Just hold this tightly in place and make sure his anus stays right on that 8-inch mark"
"Sure thing!"
Joe struck the rod with the mallet once more.
"Wow." Tom felt the reverberations work up his arms and into his shoulders.
After the vibration stopped, Joe leaned in and whispered, "Now pull it out to the four-inch mark slowly."
Tom followed Joe's instruction as Joe palpated Paul's stomach.
"Now push it back to eight. Be gentle but firm." He kept examining Paul's abdomen. "All right, pull it out to the two-inch line." "Now back to eight." "Back out to two." "In." "Out." "In." "All the way out now." "Back in, firm, all the way to eight." "Out, all the way." "In." "Out." "In."
Paul was visibly squirming on the table. His face contorted into a mask of pain and pleasure confounded as one.
"In." "Out." "Just keep going." "Faster, faster now, keep it steady."
Joe went around and took Paul's feet and stretched his legs once more. This time he easily got them behind his head. Paul was now in Joe's preferred "pretzel position" for his clients.
"Keep going, Tom, you're great at this!"
Tom continued thrusting the steel rod into Paul until the helpless "pretzeled" man let out a low moan and an emission of semen all over his belly. Joe then took control of the rod and began thrusting himself.
"This is a critical phase, we must bring him down gradually."
"He looks like he's in pain," Tom said.
"He'll be just fine. What you just witnessed is a 'false ejaculation.'" Joe leaned close into Tom and whispered very low into his ear, "You understand that faggots don't experience sexual release from their own ejaculation, that's just a vestigial response. They receive sexual release when their partners orgasm. It's very different from us."
"I see," Tom whispered back. He was learning all sorts of new things and found it absolutely fascinating.
Joe thrusted the rod harder, but slower, and slower until he came to a gradual stop. He finally pulled it out and threw it in the bin for the sterilizer.
"Let him rest for a few minutes then take him to the shower. Make sure he urinates before leaving." Joe stretched Paul's legs back to a normal position. "I'm gonna get some lunch."
"Bye, Joe," Tom said. He looked down at Paul, who was gradually coming out of a deep fog, and drenched in sweat.
"Ready for a shower, buddy?"
"Uh. Yes. Yes, sir," Paul said a bit robotically.
He had never called Tom "sir" before. Tom helped him to his feet and escorted him to the shower. Paul was more obedient about urinating on command this time. He seemed to come out of his trance by the time they got in the car.
...
The treatments continued, three times a week for several months. Tom often watched, sometimes participated, other times he went of to swim or work out on his own.
He continued to notice more and more submissive behavior from Paul, but thought it best not to bring up or question. He just went along with it. He also noticed that Paul had begun running every morning and was keeping the house they shared sparkling clean. Paul was dressing better and putting more care into his appearance as well.
Then one day Tom noticed something strange. Paul seemed restless, agitated. He couldn't sit still all day. He was breathing hard and fast for no apparent reason. Then in the evening he gripped himself like he was in pain.
"Is it back?" Tom asked. "The pain, I mean?"
"Yeah, and it's worse this time. This is the first time I've felt this since the treatment started."
"Don't worry. We'll get it taken care of. Just try and relax"
Tom called Dr. Stonehouse. To his surprise, the doctor didn't tell him to bring Paul to the office. He instructed Tom to take Paul to the gym.
...
They arrived and found Dr. Stonehouse waiting with Joe in the locker room.
"Strip him and get him on the table," the doctor said.
Tom and Joe made quick work of getting Paul naked and lifting him up onto the table. Without thinking, Paul reflexively put his feet behind his head as he had learned to do for his treatments.
"Easy, son," Dr. Stonehouse tried to calm him. He took a good look at Paul's eyes and mouth, and felt around his abdomen. "Just as we thought," he said, directing his words to Joe.
"What is it?" Tom asked.
The men took Tom aside.
"Tom, you have it within you to help Paul once and for all to get past this," Joe said.
"Paul is experiencing an acute episode of his RADM. Not even the dilation treatments can help this. To put it simply: Paul is in heat."
At that moment Paul let out a deep, guttural moan that echoed off the tiles of the locker room walls. It was later in the evening, but there were still a few men about and their heads turned.
"He's in heat? Like a cat?"
"Well, sort of. It's not exactly the same thing, but the cure is the same," Dr. Foster said. He cupped Tom's genitals through his jeans.
"No no no no no. No way. No how," I'm not into dudes.
"Tom, be realistic here. Paul has unconsciously imprinted on you as a mate. I've been observing the signs all these months," Joe said.
"And now your good friend needs you to inseminate him," Dr. Stonehouse added. "It's the best possible thing for him."
"But I can't. I just can't."
"Your mouth is saying that, but your body is saying something different." The doctor once again patted Tom's cock, which had grown to full engorgement over the past couple of minutes.
Paul let out another moan, and both the doctor and Joe noticed how Tom's cock jumped in response.
"I ran every test, Tom. I can guarantee you Paul is 100% faggot. This will not make you any less of a man."
Tom approached the massage table and looked at Paul. It was clear he was desperate. His anus was puckering and pouting as if to grab onto anything that might come along.
"I'm gonna help you, Paul. I love you buddy, and I'm gonna help you."
Tom stripped off his jeans and tank-top. He wasn't wearing underwear.
Joe doused Paul's crotch with a generous squirt of massage oil, and Tom took two fingers and massaged some of it inside.
"Tom, what're you doing?" Paul asked, in a daze.
"I'm going to give you what you need."
"What do I need?"
"You need my cock, buddy. I'm gonna give it to you," Tom answered, climbing up on the table.
"I need your cock? What?"
Tom greased himself and placed his glans against Paul's anus. He pushed hard until it popped past the sphincter.
"Gentle and slow all the way to the base," Joe instructed from off to the side. "His anatomy can take it. He was designed for it."
Tom pushed into Paul, all the way to the base.
Paul gasped. "Oh, Oh. I need your cock! I get it now. I need your cock so bad, Tom."
"You got it, buddy. That's a good boy."
Tom began thrusting into Paul, and Paul breathed deep and slow, his hyperventilation stopped.
Dr. Stonehouse placed the palm of his hand on Paul's lower abdomen. "Don't mind me, just keep going." He left it there for about a minute then stepped back and gave a thumbs up to Joe.
Tom continued, and found he was enjoying it much more than he ever could have believed. Paul's ass felt like it was made just for him.
"I'm always gonna take care of you, bro. You've got my cock. Whenever you need it, you've got my cock."
He pounded deep into Paul, fast and hard. Paul felt more relaxed and less in pain than he had in many years. He felt like a tender piece of beef being lovingly tenderized.
Tom pulled Paul's feet from behind his head and put his legs up on his shoulders. Tom stood on his knees and pounded even deeper into Paul. Faster and harder. Paul's arms hung limp off the sides of the table and his eyes rolled back in his head.
Tom's thrusts became a bit less regular and Dr. Stonehouse stepped forward. "Make sure you ejaculate deep inside him."
Tom kept slamming into Paul until he felt the spasms of his orgasm rip across his body. He pushed deep into Paul and infused him with the semen the man so desperately needed before collapsing on top of him.
"Ok, Paul my boy, you just lay there with your legs in the air for about fifteen minutes. We need you to absorb Tom's juices," Dr. Stonehouse instructed.
Tom climbed down from the table and the doctor and Joe reached out to shake his hand. Tom had not noticed while he was in the act, but a small audience of gym-goers had formed near the shower area. They were dispersing now.
"He's not out of the woods yet," the doctor said. "I want to see him Monday morning in my office. And he will need two rounds of intercourse every day for the next seven days, and a minimum of two to three times a week after that."
"That's a tall order," Tom responded.
"We know you're up to it though," Dr. Stonehouse smiled.
Tom looked over at Paul. "Oh, I'm definitely up to it!"
Tom's partially deflated cock was already re-hardening. He definitely was up to it.