Page 19 of Under Control

“Not positive. That’s what they told me when I picked him up, but maybe he’s still just a child. Might have to put him in diapers.”

Alex shook his head and cried even harder.

He couldn’t stop crying. Singh pulled the bucket out from underneath him and discarded the contents in the trash vacuum, all while Alex still squatted there.

He hated this. He hated this so fucking much. He was humiliated and ashamed and felt like such a weakling.

“Back over the exam table,” Tracht ordered, his voice so harsh that Alex scrambled to obey.

Never mind the grossness on his thighs or how he could barely see through his tears. He slumped over the table and gripped the edges of it hard. His forehead settled against the spot where his spit had pooled earlier.

He startled when Singh wiped the insides of his thighs with a rough cloth. She did both of his legs, and then parted his ass cheeks with one hand and scrubbed hard against his hole. It added to the humiliation, and all Alex could think of now was a small child getting his ass wiped by his parents.

If Tracht would at least fucking touch him! Alex thought he’d be able to handle it if Tracht were there. Alex was crying; that should have had Tracht pawing him all over. Why wasn’t Tracht there with him?

“At some point he’ll have to learn to wipe his own ass,” Singh said dispassionately. “I know the males of the species aren’t naturally clean, but you have to train him into it.”

“Indeed,” Tracht answered, and it wasn’t fair that he sounded amused by Singh when he wasn’t giving Alex the time of day. Fucking Singh.

She discarded the cloth in a nearby bin, then picked up the large syringe that was sitting on the counter. Alex had seen that one a few times before; it was filled with lube, and a lot of it.

Alex whined again and extended his arm in Tracht’s direction.

“Hmm. No,” Tracht said. “You haven’t earned my touch, Alex. You were very bad.”

He hadn’t been! Alex whined louder, straining his tongue to find a way to form sounds resembling the word “sorry,” but only incoherent noises came out. At least Tracht had spoken to him directly though.

Alex shuddered at the touch of the syringe against his hole, and then he got another round of coldness in his ass, so much lube that the moment Singh pulled the syringe away, some of it spilled out. He sobbed again, hating the sensation and the humiliation.

“What did I tell you? Messy, messy, messy,” Singh said. She followed that up by sliding something cold and metal into Alex. With all that lube, there was barely any resistance.

Alex braced himself for what he knew would come next. The first click expanded the speculum only a fraction, not enough for Alex to notice. But Singh kept rotating the damn screw, and each click opened Alex up more and more, until he was gaping open, the lube slowly dripping out of him.

Only now did Tracht get closer. He stood where Alex could see him and snapped his own pair of surgical gloves on, his eyes staring straight into Alex’s. Like he wanted Alex to know that there’d be no direct contact, that Alex wasn’t getting Tracht’s skin against him.

Alex kept crying.

“All right, doctor, what do you see?” Tracht asked, tapping Alex’s ass lightly. The touch felt so foreign that it might as well have been Singh touching him.

“Hmm.” There was a click of the flashlight. “His prostate might be swollen. Big brute like him, he’s got more semen than brain cells.”

He hated Singh so much. So. Fucking. Much.

“That sounds dangerous.” Tracht placed one gloved hand on Alex’s ass and used the other one to reach inside Alex. Since Alex was already gaping open, he couldn’t even feel the warmth of Tracht’s fingers.

He did feel the first tap against his prostate, and then he felt the insistent pressure.

Alex made another incoherent sob. He hated that his cock was rising up to the pleasure, the intensity that drowned out the pain and the humiliation. He hated even more that he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to orgasm.

Sure enough, come began to leak out of his cock, adding to the entire mess. Alex wanted to close his mouth and drown out the horrible noises he was making, but the gag denied him even that.

He was wrung completely dry, and between all the crying, drooling, sweating, and milking, Alex felt like a disgusting mess.

“I think that’s all there is inside him.” Tracht accentuated his comment with a slap to Alex’s ass. He closed the speculum and slid it out, tossing it onto the exam table, then he pulled insistently on Alex’s arm. “On your knees, boy.”

Alex slid to the floor, his vision still blurred. He leaned into the touch when Tracht touched his hair.

“You’re lucky you’re so beautiful when you’re wrecked,” Tracht said. He reached down and undid the ring gag. For a moment, Alex sat with his mouth still wide open, and Tracht used that opportunity to stick his fingers inside and run them all over Alex’s tongue and gums.

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