The exam room door clicked shut behind me and Doctor Reyes pointed at the table without a word. "Strip and get on your back. Legs spread." His voice was low and rough, like he did this every day and didn't give a fuck about small talk. I peeled off my clothes fast, cock already half-hard from the way he watched. The paper crinkled under my ass as I lay down. He didn't ask if I was ready. He just grabbed my right wrist and buckled a thick leather cuff around it, yanking the strap tight so my arm stretched out to the side. The metal clinked when he locked it to the table rail.
"Other one," he ordered.
I gave him my left wrist and he did the same, pulling until both shoulders burned a little from the stretch. My cock twitched against my stomach. He noticed and smirked, running one gloved finger down my chest to flick the head. "Already leaking. Pathetic."
He moved to my legs next. Ankle cuffs first, then he spread me wide, buckling each one so my thighs were forced open and my hole was on full display. The position made my balls pull tight. I tested the restraints once and they didn't give an inch. Doctor Reyes stepped back, peeled off his white coat, and rolled up his sleeves. He was built like he lifted patients for fun—thick forearms, dark hair on his chest showing through the open collar of his shirt.
He snapped on fresh gloves and squirted lube straight onto my hole without warning. Two thick fingers shoved in at once, scissoring hard. "Tight little fuckhole," he muttered, twisting them deep until he hit my prostate. I jerked against the cuffs and groaned. He added a third finger fast, pumping them in and out with wet sounds filling the room. "Gonna open you up proper before I use the real thing."
My cock was dripping onto my abs now. He ignored it and kept finger-fucking me until my hole felt sloppy and loose. Then he pulled out, wiped his gloves on my thigh, and unbuckled his belt. His cock was thick and veiny, already rock hard. He climbed onto the table between my spread legs, lined up, and shoved in with one hard thrust. The cuffs rattled as my body tried to buck. He bottomed out and stayed there, grinding his hips so his cockhead mashed against my prostate.
"Fuck," I gasped. "Harder."
He laughed once, low and mean, then started pounding. Each thrust slammed the table and drove the air out of me. His gloved hands gripped my spread thighs, fingers digging in while he used my hole like it was just there for him. Sweat dripped off his jaw onto my chest. He leaned forward, still buried deep, and wrapped one hand around my throat—not choking, just holding me down while he fucked.
"Look at you," he growled. "Strapped open and taking every inch like a whore." He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, making my cock bounce and spit more precum. The restraints kept me exactly where he wanted, legs spread, ass up, unable to do anything but take it. He fucked me like that for what felt like forever, changing angles to nail my prostate every time until my vision blurred.
When he finally pulled out, my hole clenched on nothing and I whined. He didn't untie me. Instead he reached for a drawer and came back with a thick black plug. He shoved it in without lube, stretching me all over again, then gave my balls a rough squeeze. "Keep that in until your next visit. I'll check if you've been good."
He wiped his cock on my stomach, tucked it away, and started unbuckling the cuffs one by one. My wrists and ankles were marked red. When I could sit up, my legs shook. Doctor Reyes handed me my clothes and slapped my ass once, hard. "Same time next week. Don't be late or I'll add the spreader bar."
I left the office with the plug seated deep, cum still drying on my skin under my shirt, already counting the days until he strapped me down again.
