The new doctor

by BRK

 Forced to get a physical ahead of a new job in a new town, Colin is glad to discover his new doctor is nice… though he seems to have some strange ideas about anatomy.

Added: Aug 2022 3,176 words 3,768 views 4.6 stars (7 votes)

C

Colin perched uneasily on the padded exam table, flip-flop-clad feet dangling, wondering if he was supposed to undress. No one had told him to, but he never knew what to do in these situations. Plus, the air conditioning in here was so arctic, one of those blue gowns they had might just be warmer than the thin, light-gray tee shirt and loose navy cargo shorts he had on, open backside and all.

He shook his head at his own perversity. He was the guy who hated change, and yet here he was, new town, new job, new doctor for the state-mandated, pre-start-date physical. Sure, Cypress Grove seemed bucolic and friendly, not to mention full of hot guys from what he’d seen so far—the roguishly handsome realtor who’d shown him the house he was renting, Keith, could have been the heartthrob in one of those lady-exec-goes-back-home-to-flyover-country-and-falls-in-love romcom-channel movies. The new squadmates he’d be meeting after this probably wouldn’t haze the rookie for being fresh out of the police academy, or for being a little short and skinny, or for the combo of plain face and puffy lips he’d been self-conscious about since high school. And as for his new doctor, what was he afraid of? Maybe he’s one of those kindly, old-fashioned sorts, he told himself, all warm smiles and sage advice. He huffed. His old doc back home was an HMO drone who never looked up from his tablet and had twice confused him with his ten-year-old kid brother, Max, so anything would be an improvement.

Just then the doctor in question entered the exam room, closing the door behind him and offering Colin a vague smile. He looked to be in his mid-sixties or seventies, tall and fit under a white lab coat and scrubs with a thick, well-trimmed shock of white hair, a faintly lined, reasonably distinguished face like a forgotten nineteenth-century vice president, and rheumy light blue eyes behind round, steel-rimmed glasses. In place of a tablet he had a clipboard stacked with Colin’s various forms. He glanced at this once, then set it aside on one of the counters, collecting a few items into his coat pockets and then moving to stand directly in front of his patient. “Colin, is it? I’m Dr. Tad,” he said, his voice high and slightly accented. Colin glanced at his lab coat—sure enough, Dr. Tad was stitched in blue cursive lettering over the left breast. “I take it you’re here for one of those dratted pre-employment physicals, yes?”

Colin smiled. He liked the kindly old coot already. “Sure am, doc,” he said. “Thanks for seeing me.” He’d been told he’d be getting one of two doctors, though the older one was a bit strange since a “brain episode” a few months back and didn’t see patients these days—today being an exception as the other doctor was out sick, apparently. He seemed harmless enough to Colin, though he had to admit it was a little odd the way he didn’t seem to be looking quite at him, despite his watery eyes seemingly being pointed right at Colin’s face. Coot, or kook? Still, he was friendly, and friendly was a definite step up, medical professional-wise. Besides, what could go wrong with a routine physical?

“Not at all,” the doctor replied absently, eyes down as he rummaged in one of his pockets for something. “Always happy to have you handsome young fellows in. Makes me feel confident for the future.”

Colin scoffed. “You must be thinking of your other patients,” he said amiably. “I know I’m pretty bland looks-wise. But thanks anyway!”

Dr. Tad was still excavating his pockets. “Nonsense,” he mused distractedly, not looking up. “You remind me of that boy from the Spider-Man movies, I’m sure you hear it all the time. You must get kissed a lot. There’s a lot of kissing these—Aha!” he added, interrupting himself before an amused Colin could quiz him on which franchise he meant, especially as all three options seeming equally unlikely. He forgot all this as the doctor produced a wooden tongue-depressor, which he brandished with dry veteran-doctor comedy as though it were a tool of great significance. “Now,” he said, “I want you to open wide and stretch out your tongues as far as you can. Can you do that for me?”

Colin lifted his brows. Tongues? He remembered the accent and wondered if the doctor’s first language was different enough from English that he ended up always accidentally pluralizing things. Shrugging, he did his best to comply, opening his mouth and pushing his tongue out as best he could, getting a good inch or so of clearance past his lower lip.

Dr. Tad gave him an admonishing head-tilt. “Both, please,” he said patiently. “We don’t have all day.” He still held up the tongue depressor as though he were withholding a boon of great value from him.

Colin felt his brows draw together. He was about to object—probably without much clarity, as it would have meant speaking around his current oral configuration—but then he was abruptly aware of something tickling the underside of his extended tongue, giving him pause. As he drew his attention to it, it seemed to gain presence, and to his utter amazement Colin realized it was in fact an actual, genuine second tongue, positioned underneath and just to the right of the original. The two of them overlapped by maybe two-thirds of their widths, both feeling totally real and like they were absolutely supposed to be there. What the hell?

The doctor was still watching him with that slightly unfocused expression, waiting for him to do as he’d been asked. He should just—go with it, right? Maybe this was a dream, in which case him sticking both his tongues out was probably what made the most sense. Right? Right. Was it even possible, though?

Experimentally, he tried slowly slipping the second tongue forward from its current, retracted position, keeping the original in its taut, protruding state. This meant he was sliding the tip his new, lower tongue all along the undercarriage of the extended upper one. The sensation this produced was surprisingly pleasant, and the unexpectedness of this override all of his rational mind’s anxious objections to the idea of him having any number of tongues other than one. By the time the tips were even and both tongues fully extended, Colin’s confusion was definitely edged with low-level but very real arousal.

Dr. Tad, however, seemed not to be satisfied. The tongue depressor remained aloft and undeployed. “A little more,” he prodded, as though Colin were playing around and holding things up for fun.

Colin brows knitted further. He tried pushing his tongues out more, and to his surprise they complied, extending out a full inch past their previous position.

“Keep going,” the doctor instructed. “All the way out.”

This must be a dream, he thought. Telling himself that inside a dream stretching his tongues out past what was humanly possible was probably perfectly mundane, he tried again, straining to extend his tongues as far as they could go. Something seemed to break loose, like he’d pushed past something tight and inhibiting, and all at once his tongues slid out a good three more inches, reaching maybe five inches total past his lip. He tried to keep from nuzzling them together, as it seemed rude, but couldn’t hold back completely. It felt so nice his dick started to chub a little in his shorts.

“There you go,” Dr. Tad said proudly. He lowered the tongue depressor at last and laying it firmly against his upper tongue. “Say ‘ah’.”

“Aaah.”

Dr. Tad bent and peered into Colin’s throat for a moment. “Good,” he said, straightening, and as he turned to discard the tongue depressor Colin started to retract his tongues, worried all that mouth-muscle might not fit inside his oral cavity so well anymore.

Dr. Tad glanced up. “No, leave them out,” he said, turning to look around on the counters for something. “I need you to get them hard for me, okay?”

“Uh?” Colin said, not sure he’d heard right.

The old doctor found what he was looking for and turned back to Colin, holding it up with a smile. It was a clear specimen cup, the lid already removed. “Just get them hard for me,” he repeated. “We need to take a sample, and then we can move on.”

“Uh…” Colin was going to object that this was very messed up, that this wasn’t the usual way to get the kind of sample he was looking for, but once again he stopped short, stunned at the warm, tingling sensation trickling through his uber-extended tongues, harmonizing in an oddly gratifying way with the chubbing of his cock below. Holy fuck, were they—? Was he—?

Dr. Tad seemed to mistake the nature of Colin’s unvoiced protest. He smiled crookedly. “I realize I might not be the right kind of erection fodder for you,” he said, “but you can imagine me as whatever sexy fantasy girl you like.”

“Uhh…” Colin said again around his definitely-stiffening tongues, blushing slightly.

“—Or fantasy boy,” the doctor amended gamely. “I don’t object to you thinking of me as a hot young hunk if that’s what it takes!”

Dr. Tad chuckled, blurred for a second, and then it was the handsome, heartthrob real estate guy, Keith, standing there with the clipboard. The white lab coat (still reading Dr. Tad) now hung open over a bare, hairy, nicely formed chest and chiseled abs, and a smirk was producing a sharp dimple in the taut plane of his tanned and stubbly cheek.

Potent arousal washed through Colin like a heat wave, and “Dr. Keith” beamed. “I see it’s working,” he said, speaking now in the realtor’s growly baritone. Colin shivered, already completely turned on. “Dr. Keith” stepped closer, his lab coat having somehow vanished been the pounding heartbeats filling Colin’s ears.

The swoon-worthy fantasy doctor of his possibly crazy actual doctor lifted the open sample cup encouragingly. “Looks like it won’t take long,” he said in a deeper, rumblier version of his usual genially clinical tone. His new voice seemed to resonate somewhere inside Colin, shivering through his innards and making his balls thrum with excitement every time he spoke. “Go ahead,” the doctor coached. “You can use your lips and your hands if you need to.”

The doctor was right about it not taking long—his tongues were full-blown erections now, and he was definitely on the verge of cumming, hard. In a sudden panic he realized it wasn’t just his cockified tongues that were boned up. Looking down he started frantically clawing at his waistband and fly, trying to get them open in time, ignoring the precum dripping from his enormous mouth-stiffies. If he didn’t get his dick free in time he was going to ruin his shorts—and if he did he would probably ruin his shirt instead. Fuck!

“Oh, yes, I forgot about those,” he heard the wet-dream doctor mutter, but Colin wasn’t really paying attention. He freed his prick of his boxer-briefs at last, so that it was standing straight up from his fly. “My, you are a lucky one,” the doctor observed, making Colin look up in surprise. “Big and fat, just like the boys like them.”

As Colin stared at him he set aside the specimen cup on the counter for the moment and started digging in his other lab coat pocket. He pulled out a condom, unwrapped it, and handed it to his patient. “Here,” he said. “This should help.”

Colin took it gratefully and rolled it down over his stiff prick, only to realize there was still another weeping erection standing tall and proud next to it.

He looked up again to find Dr. Hunky calmly handling him a second condom, unwrapped and ready for him as before. Dazed and incredibly turned on, he took it and dutifully rolled it over the second of his crazy-hard cocks.

That only left the remaining two hard-ons, but the doctor had condoms for those, too.

A moment later he was staring at his cluster of delicious-looking, duly raincoated hard-ons, and just from the sight of them he was suddenly very, very close. More than that, but even prophylactically shod the feeling of them rubbing together was too unprecedented and too exquisite for Colin to deal with. His fat, rigid tongue-cocks, uninhibited by latex, started rubbing together in sympathetic emulation, and Colin moaned wantonly at the ungodly pleasure. Without conscious thought he closed his lips around them, and the added sensations of his tongue-cocks feeling his lips pressing around them and the feel of his firm, hot cocks against his eager lips combined to rocket him over the edge. His eyes widened and he made a couple of tiny, urgent grunts to warn Dr. McShirtless, who naturally understood and got the specimen cup positioned in front of his twin mouthboners just in time.

The orgasm was unlike any he’d ever had. Erupting from his mouthcocks and his crotchcocks felt like a seismic event with multiple epicenters. The insides of every cell in his body seemed to liquefy in to pure, hot, cummy pleasure. He came and came, until he was totally spent and thoroughly sated. When his swirling brain focused again he became aware of things in succession: first himself, wobbling his upper body around in a little eddy as he sat on the exam table; then, the chill of the exam room; his softening crotch-cocks in their condoms (he needed to do something about that, he thought blearily); his mostly re-tonguified tongues, still lolling out of his mouth a little more than they should have and wet with cold cum on the ends; and finally “Dr. Keith,” still too handsome and too shirtless and generally looking like he was auditioning for a Doctors Who Lift calendar (Hairy-Chested edition), mundanely sealing the cap on the half-full specimen cup and making notes on his clipboard.

Colin tried pulling his tongues back into his mouth and was mildly surprised he was able to get them all the way back in. It seemed they were actually a bit stretchy, at least in this form, and with some of effort he could retract them back to something close to normal. His mouth still felt a bit full, mostly because he wasn’t quite used to having two of them. He kept rubbing them together, letting the sparks of faint pleasure flick through his nervous system like the faraway echoes of the climax he’d just experienced, and would no doubt experience again.

As the doctor’s pen scratched away he then busied himself pulling off the condoms one by one, tying them off and, for lack of anywhere better, setting them beside him on the cushion. Once they were all naked again he blinked down at them in bemusement. Even flaccid they all looked too thick and heavy to be his cock—that was what registered with him, more than there being four of them nestling in a pile like tired puppies. He stuffed them away in his briefs to deal with later and managed to zip up with only a marginal increase in effort.

“Dr. Keith” finished his notes and turned to Colin with a paternal smile, grabbing up a stethoscope in one hand and folding his arms over his beautiful, sun-kissed chest. He regarded Colin with the air of someone who was just getting started, though weirdly his eyes were still not quite focused on him. “All right, moving on!” he said briskly. “Off with the shirt, then, let’s check in on those pokey nipples of yours.”

Colin gulped.


A half-hour later he exited the exam room feeling a little overwhelmed. As he signed out with the receptionist, a middle-aged dear named Delores, he noticed a good-looking, tight-bodied bear cub in full uniform hovering nearby with a friendly smile. The “Cypress Grove PD” patch wrapped across his hard, rounded shoulder meant he was definitely one of his new colleagues, no doubt here to greet him and bring him over to the town’s shared little government facilities building. The name badge gave his name as Jenkins. Colin felt his cheeks color as he finished the exit paperwork, not sure he was quite ready to share the new, oddly altered Colin with his soon-to-be coworkers.

As soon as Colin turned toward him, Officer Jenkins wrapped him up in a tight hug and moved in for a serious kiss right on the lips. Shocked and still a little post-orgasmic he opened automatically and feel into a very gratifying hello-kiss. He felt his tongues start to harden and immediately pulled away, embarrassed.

“Geez, Jerry,” Delores razzed the cop. “Give him time to settle in before you indoctrinate him, why don’t ya?”

Jerry grinned bashfully at Colin. “Sorry, it’s just the way we do things around here,” he explained. “You’ll get used to it.” He licked his lips, his eyes darkening with heat. “I have a feeling you’ll get used to it pretty quickly, too, once I tell them all how good a kisser you are.”

“Jerry Jenkins, you behave yourself,” the receptionist admonished, though she didn’t seem to be actually angry—more like Jerry was being a scamp, as usual.

“Sorry, Aunt Delores,” he said, but the stare he had fixed on Colin told him he was anything but. He tilted his head. “Hey, anyone ever tell you you look like that Tom Holland guy?”

Colin blinked. Well, that answers that question, he thought wryly. “Uh… nope, you’re the first,” he answered honestly.

Jerry chuckled, obviously assuming Colin was joking. “Well, you do,” he assured him, clapping a hand on Colin’s shoulder. “You got the body for it and everything!”

That part, at least, Colin had noticed, if belatedly, once he’d doffed his shirt for the second stage of the exam. He had a suspicion some parts of him were currently less of a match for the actor than others, though. He nervously touched a finger to his left nipple and quickly pulled it away, alarmed by the slight dampness he’d felt.

Jerry, oblivious to Colin’s worry, steered him confidently toward the door and his new, slightly-altered destiny. “You have to meet the rest of the guys,” he said, sounding excited. “You are so going to love it here.”

Colin was willing to think he might be right. After all, things certainly couldn’t get any stranger.

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