Page 25 of Ride With Me

“We can’t afford cable or streaming services,”he would say, because he needed something else. A new coat for winter, pants for work, computer for school, or whatever else he’d come up with when I wanted to spend money on myself. I’ve been spoiled here. Home-cooked meals, silky pajamas, a leisurely bed, and I occasionally forget why being here is so bad.

I take a quick shower. The pressure is wonderful and the shampoo smells like fresh flowers. The soap is exfoliating and there are new loofahs on a rack. I use the toothbrush in the holder and all the other toiletries left for me. Then, dried and draped in the gown left for me on the sink counter, my soreness is hardly noticeable as I walk back to the room to nap. I’m startled awake by Sam’s loud presence. Dressed in his large white coat, he tugs on a pair of fresh gloves.

Two vials sit on the nightstand and next to them are a pack of needles. My stomach swims and I sit on the edge of the freshly made bed. “What’s all this?”

“For the blood draw. How are you feeling this morning, Mr. Banks?”

“Good. What time is it?”

“Don’t worry about that. You’re right on time. Sit back against the headboard for me please.”

Repositioning my legs, I scoot up until my back hits the headboard, and I adjust my gown when I realize how much of me is hanging out.

“Comfy?” He rolls himself on his stool toward me.

“As comfy as I can be right before being stuck with a needle.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. You’ll get through it like you have everything else. You’re my perfect patient, remember?”

My heart soars. “Yeah. I remember. I just really hate needles.”

“A lot of people do. How about you focus on something else. Try closing your eyes and imagine you’re at the place you want to be most in the world.”

My eyes flutter shut, and everywhere I go in my mind he’s there. Naked with me on the beach. Giving me a prostate massage on his couch while I watch more TV. Him, probing me with his tongue on the exam table. Wait... that’s not going to a different place. He’s either traveling with me or we stay here. I stay here. This isn’t my escape. It’s my prison. I have to remember that.

I open my eyes and he’s gently slapping a bandage on my arm, carrying a vial filled with blood between his fingers. Those proud eyes have me forgetting everything I’m supposed to remember. “You did wonderful. We’re all done, you see?”

I feel like someone’s lit a firework inside me, burning brighter when he closes the gap to whisper in my ear. “So wonderful. My good little patient.”

The next cultures he takes aren’t as easy and he uses a urinal to collect my urine sample, rubbing my belly when I struggle toempty my bladder. My cock hardens the lower his hand goes, and I almost make a mess everywhere until he wraps his fingers around my base, holding me in place. “Doing perfectly, sweet boy. We’re almost done, and you’re right where I need you to be for our semen collection.”

I almost come on the spot, his fingers squeezing tighter as my last drops fill the bottle. He tugs it away, setting it on the nightstand. I jump when a cold wipe touches my skin and he cleans around my balls too, my tip leaking like a damn faucet.

“Save some of that for this cup,” he says, with humor lacing his tone. I try to pull the pillows from behind my back and he stops me. “You can stay how you are. You’re at the perfect angle. I’ll grab some lube and drop everything off at the lab.” Winking, he disappears outside the door and I’m not at all prepared for what’s to come. He walks in with a TENS machine, placing one lead on my balls, one on my taint, and another above my cock head. Vibrations shoot through my body when he turns on the machine, driving me to claw at the sheets and kick my feet. The slow pace is agonizing, and when he cranks up the speed I cry out, pressing my back harder to the pillows.

“I…It hurts.” But in the best fucking way.

His eyes light up. “Need to stop?”

“No. Please don’t.”

“We won’t then, and I’ll help push things along.” Rubbing a finger over my rim, he guides the cup to my cock, collecting as much cum as he can. The machine shuts off and he shoves a finger in the cup, lifting it to his nose. “Smells healthy. The color is good too.” I swallow a gasp when his tongue flicks over the tiny amount left on his finger. “Tastes good too. So far, I have yet to see anything major to be concerned about. We should talk about sleep therapy though. I think I have a way to help you with your oversensitivity issues too.”

“What do you suggest?” I say, blissed out and light-headed after the best orgasm of my life. I never knew it could feel so good. That having someone care enough to go out of his way to prevent me from falling sick could feel so good, filling a void inside me.

“Restraints for the restless leg and arm syndrome. I think helping your body feel more grounded will settle your mind more.”

“You’re going to tie me to the bed?” Excitement stirs inside me, and then I think about how he might leave me like that for days while milking my cock with more machines, and here comes the fear I subconsciously seek. He gives me everything I need all at once, and this feels too much like a dream come true mixed with the perfect nightmare.

“Yes, but don’t worry, they’re hospital approved and are not at all uncomfortable.”

“And my sensitivity issues?”

“Stimulation therapy. I’ll work with you three times a day, strengthening your ability to control what you’re feeling for longer. Would you like to try both of those things? Only thing is, I’ll need you here longer than three days.”

“Yes,” I blurt. “I want to get better, Doctor.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.” He strokes my cheek. “And you will. I’ll make sure of it.”

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