Having bid Remittance Girl farewell, (and having batted my eyes coquettishly at all the lovely new readers she sent my way) we now return to the world of smut, with a spot of nurse-themed domination.

Perfect for your wednesday evening.

This story comes to us from ‘jamesinspain’ of ‘Literotica.com’.

***

Jay sat in the waiting room, pretending to read a magazine but actually peeking over the top of it at a pretty girl sitting across from him. How interested can anybody really be in how many miles to the gallon you get out of the latest Toyota anyway? Apart from the girl no-one else was here. He would be the last patient of the day for his doctor.

When he gets in, the doctor already has his coat on, briefcase in hand.

“Hey, can we just do your prostate exam in the car park? I have to be home by eight, or I’ll miss my stories.”

He watched the girl walk down the hall when she was called. She was pretty, but far too skinny for his liking.

Of course. How inconsiderate of her to not have put on some weight in case a stranger decided to stare creepily at her that day.

He was so horny.

Good to know. Call me genre-savvy, but I have a feeling this plot point will become relevant later on.

He was so horny. His hernia, or at least that is what he thought it was, certainly hadn’t affected his libido. He had a lump in his groin, to the right of his cock.

…and one on the other side, to the left?

Yeah, those are your testicles. You may have noticed them.

It didn’t hurt and it disappeared when he lay down. He wasn’t worried; he just wanted to know what to do about it.

Tell me, have you ever heard the term ‘Violent Groinal Explosion’?

No? Good. You don’t need to worry about it. Chances are very low. Like, 40%.

“Jay Gifford!” the receptionist called out. She could get that miserable look off her face thought Jay as he walked past her and down the hall.

I’m so sorry that at the end of her working day, this receptionist isn’t utterly thrilled by the prospect of dealing with your groin exam.

No doubt at this very moment in some war-torn hellhole, some poor unfortunate has just been hit by a grenade and is now desperately trying to claw his way back to base camp on the jagged remains of his arms. And as he does, I bet he’ll weep salty tears of gratitude that, even though he’s crippled for life, and trapped in a senseless war with no end in sight, he at least didn’t have to deal with any grumpy receptionists that day.

“Praise Interrobango”, he will cry, “at least I am safe from that particular horror.”.

He knocked on the door and was surprised to hear a female voice call for him to come in, a rather sexy female voice. “Hi” she smiled. “I am Karen Brown, Dr. Sternberg’s locum”. She seemed to be about forty with beautiful alabaster skin.

Ugh, ‘alabaster’. I’m having Girlie Girl flashbacks.

Her eyes were piercing and uncompromising but her smile was self-deprecating and hinted at an inner warmth.

You can’t simultaneously look uncompromising, self-deprecating, and warm. That requires a minimum of at least 3 different faces.

She was a buxom woman with mid-length curly brown hair cut in a professional style. Her white sateen dress shirt was slightly open revealing a full, silky-white cleavage.

“Take a seat” she waved a hand towards a chair, while running her eyes up and down Jay’s large, masculine frame. He was used to being looked at. He knew that he had a strong physical presence, but something about the hunger in her eyes struck him and he felt his cock twitch.

Always with the twitching. Just once I’d like to see a cock wobble in excitement.

“What seems to be the problem?” she said. Her eyes held level with his. He suddenly felt vulnerable, like a deer caught in the gaze of a hungry Mountain Lion. His cock twitched again and began to harden;

An impending mauling = Erection.

Also good to know.

his heart rate quickened. He stole a glance at her soft hands, her nails were manicured but not too long. They were painted a subdued natural colour. He imagined her fingers slipping underneath his cock, weighing it in her hands and then gently stroking it. Fuck.

Our protogonist seems unnaturally upset by the idea of cock-stroking.

Stop. He thought. He was pretty sure he would have to take his clothes off and he didn’t want to have a hard on.

Well, it would arguably be preferably to going in flaccid and miniscule.

Put your best dick forward, as they say.

“I think I have a hernia,” he said. He thought he saw a smile flicker in the corner of her mouth. “I have a lump in my groin.”

“It speaks to me in the night, sings sweaty little groin songs.”

“No,” he said, watching her ass as she walked towards the bed. Her ass was full. He liked that

Full of…?

Cake? Molasses? The metaphysical concept of shame?

He tried not to imagine a pair of lacy, purple boy shorts disappearing up between her smooth, white ass cheeks.

Like a rabbit into a hat.

“Take off your pants and lie down here please,” she said, patting the bed. He was trying to think of something disgusting to head off his hard on,

Such as prejaculate milkshakes, walrus scrapings, or Lady Thatcher.

but there was something about the command in her slightly husky voice that was doing things to him. What the hell was going on? Why was this woman turning him on so much. He lay on the bed. His cock was half hard, making a slight tent in his briefs. He saw her glance at it; then her eyes traveled slowly up his body until they reached his. She smiled at him, looking down her nose. It was a controlled smile, but her eyes were full of fire and hunger. He decided to go with the hard on.

The Hard On and he eloped later that night, making a new life for themselves in Acapulco.

“Stand up please,” she said, stepping back slightly but not giving him enough space to stand up without feeling like they were invading each others’ personal space. She moved behind him, which he wasn’t expecting. He felt her look at his ass. Heat rose from his asshole and spread across his buttocks and up his back.

I’m sure the feeling that the author’s describing exists, but the mental image he’s giving me is pure anti-grav diarrhea.

He felt terribly exposed. Her hand was suddenly on his hip. He flinched.

“HELP! THE HIP TOUCHIN’ GHOST GOT ME!”

“No,” was all he could manage. He swallowed. The hand slid towards his balls; in the same motion as before. This time it found the lump. She felt around it for a moment and then her hand continued. He gasped and his back tensed as her soft, warm hand cupped his scrotum.

“They dangled seductively, like a pair of Michael Chiklises someone had shoved in a skin bag.”

“Cough for me please,” her voice came from very close to his ear. He could smell lavender. His cock was as hard as it could get now. He managed a pathetic sounding cough. He felt himself drawn backwards, as though he were going to faint. He leant backwards and his broad back made contact with her breasts.

Who conducts a groin exam from behind? Honestly.

I’m beginning to think this author doesn’t really care about medical realism.

“May I?” she said, somehow it didn’t seem like a request. “Jahwohl,” he mumbled, for some reason that was beyond his comprehension using his grandmother’s German.

Ilsa, She-Wolf of the…Groin Exam?

Or, ways to make your story stand out #213: Clumsily insert a nazi subtext into your domination scene.

Her hand moved slowly to his now raging cock.

I question how rage-filled his cock could actually be, because I’ve read a lot of The Incredible Hulk comics in the past, and despite the massive amounts of atomic fury that must surely fill The Hulk’s gigantic green frame at every waking moment, his cock has always somewhat fairly mellow by comparison.

She slide her nails gently along the bottom of his shaft. He let his head fall back onto her shoulder. “That’s it,” she breathed into his ear. “Let go”. She began to slowly stroke his cock, while her lips found his ear.

They made a base camp, and planned to make for the summit in the morning.

He groaned and felt all the tension melt away from his body. She pushed her groin into his ass, thrusting gently. Her other hand found his mouth and two fingers entered it. He greedily sucked them.

There’s always a lot of fingerwork involved, but for some reason, no-one in porn ever seems to wash their hands.

For all we know, she still has last week’s E Coli caked under those nails.

Food for thought.

She ran her hand down from his mouth until she found a nipple. She pinched and twisted it slighty. His hand went back and found her soft, round ass. He pulled her into him with each of her gentle thrusts. He was in ecstasy

I think that’s somewhere near Michigan.

She moved him around so that he was facing the bed and gently pushed his strong, muscular shoulders until he put his hands on the edge of the bed. She slid his briefs all the way down and he stepped out of them. She ran her tongue slowly up the back of his thighs until she got to his ass. He shivered and arched his back. She gently bit his firm butt cheek.

It’s 11pm, and I’m sitting alone in my house, sober, reading the sentence “She gently bit his firm butt cheek.” over and over, desperately trying to think of a picture to hilariously juxtapose it with.

She let go of his cock and used both her hands to pull his ass cheeks apart. He got a shock as her tongue went directly to his asshole. The hot breath and warm tongue were almost too much for him to handle.

Interestingly, the word ‘analingus’ is actually a fusion of the Greek word ‘ana’, meaning ‘anus’, and the Latin word ‘lingus’, meaning ‘language of’.

So, the word ‘analingus’ translates literally to ‘Langauge of the Arseholes’.

You know, like what you’d hear if you went to a Decemberists concert.

“hold yourself open for me baby,” she said huskily.

Now, without proper punctuation, it’s not immediately clear what the precise meaning of this sentence is. I’ll see if I can fix it.

“Hold your self open, for me baby.” she said huskily.

Oh, I see. The doctor is requesting that our protagonist spread wide his tender manhole, so that she can insert her child into it, presumably as some kind of safeguarding procedure.

That’s the only interpretation I SEE.

He let go of the edge of the bed and had to lean further over to rest his chest on it. He pulled his ass cheeks apart, exposing his now wet hole. It felt cold in the conditioned air.

Housemate (who was in the room as I read the story aloud): “Aww, he’s cold? What a pansy.”

Her hand went back to his cock and her tongue to his asshole. She licked and sucked hungrily as she started to jerk his cock off. His world was spinning and he could do nothing but moan. He felt a finger circle his hole, she let the nail of her middle finger drag across it. She began to push her finger into him.

…Her sharp nails immediately punctured his bowel, and he was rushed to emergency surgery. The doctor was later imprisoned for gross sexual harassment.

No? That’s not…? Pfft, my version would have been better.

His back stiffened and his cock throbbed in her hand. Her finger slid slowly into his wet hole. She tightened her other hand around his cock as she began to pull her finger in and out of his ass. He moved his his hips in slow circles and arched his back to give her full access. One finger became two and the pace quickened. She let go of his cock and he felt a slap sting his ass, and then another. He squirmed and began to move backwards and forwards with her fingers. “Fuck me please,” he whispered into the starched white sheet.

BE A MAN! TAKE THE WHOLE FIST!

IT SHOULD FIT, EVEN WITH THE BABY ALREADY IN THERE! JUST JIGGLE IT OVER TO THE LEFT!

BOTH FISTS! A FOOT! C’MON, ARE YOU A MAN OR A LITTLE GIRL?!

He felt her fumble with something and pause for a second. She was dropping her pants. She resumed her finger fucking and added another finger. His ass stretched, almost painfully. He felt her other hand under his nose and smelled her juices. She began to smear his face with her pussy juices while pumping him harder and harder.

Wait, that’s how you’re building this scene to it’s climax? By smearing juices on the guy’s face?

That’s not sex, that’s just a slightly more pungent form of finger-painting.

“Suck them,” she commanded. He took her fingers into his mouth and sucked on them like his life depended on it. She pushed her hips into him and fucked him, grinding her clit into the back of her hand.

That is a position which hunches you over painfully, like a cross between Quasimodo and a Tyrannosaur. No-one in history has ever done that, because it’s silly.

I am insulted by this author’s obvious lack of experience in the field of dominatrix finger-fucking.

Each thrust pushed her hand deeper into his asshole. He started to let out a sound that was half cry, half moan. Her hand left his mouth and grabbed a handful of his thick, dark brown hair. She pulled his head back and her pushes became slams. She slammed him so hard that his feet nearly left the floor. Slam, slam, slam.

Yes, good job, you learned how to type the word ‘slam’. Now, shall we stop typing it for a while?

I feel five iterations of the word ‘slam’ within the same two sentence is sufficient to convey the essential slamminess of the situation.

Suddenly she stopped thrusting and pushed up hard against his asshole, which was stretched with the force, grinding into him and letting out a muffled moan. She dug her nails into his ass cheek. Her moan became a low primal growl as she came hard. He nearly blacked out.

I think we’ve all been there. You know, when you nearly fist someone into unconsciousness.

That old chestnut.

He began to pump spurt after spurt of cum into the air below the bed. She held herself against his stretched ass in silence for a few seconds…and then collapsed onto his back. Her fingers slid slowly from his ass.

But…but…what about the lump in his groin? What was it? Does it get better?

This lady is not a very good doctor.

***

Poor writing has left another plot thread dangling in the wind, like so much tattered rectum.

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– Alex