The eminent Doctor Freud's Blog

My girlfriend really doesn’t do anal. She’s a selfish cow really, because my knob is invariably large and constantly ready to cum. And I like hearing her pained sounds when I do manage to get her fat arse in the air. But no worries because very shortly the autumn term starts again and the clinic will be busy once more. I have been to the gym and now look really remarkably hot, (so if a boy doen’t get an erection just looking at me then he obviously has some erectile dysfunction) although Bernie my co-doc has piled on a few pounds over the summer due to lack of activity. We’ve improved the equipment levels and I’ve even occasionally done some medical self tutoring – mainly around concepts that involve lads finding themselves naked and probed by me for the slightest reason. So here’s to looking forward to the general health inspections and hoping for sports injuries, maladies, depressions and general ill health- the more the merrier.

Well in case you are wondering where I am, I have had relatively few appointments and none of any serious worthwhile consequence. Term finished a few weeks ago at the colleges and so the clinic is a bit quiet. I am currently looking into a few alternative therapies for boys that need to feel my fingers groping them. I will keep you updated.

I don’t like to alarm you but there’s evidently something wrong with you so strip and bend over. The sooner you are naked, arse in the air and humiliated with my fingers up your arse the sooner I will cum. The sooner we do this the sooner you will feel better.

I’ve had a busy week with one thing and another. I had to do a runner from my landlord this week. He seemed to expect me to pay the rent and although he’d granted me a few favours and done me quite a lot of good turns, including doing some work for me which I said I would pay him for even though I didn’t, he was an overweight cunt who I ended up disagreeing with on no end of occasions, all of which was his doing. None of it was my fault.

Okay so I broke some things, left the front door unlatched (and open) twice, never helped clean the house (and sometimes it really pissed me off that it could be left so long before the landlord finally got his act together and got the mop out), never joined in socially, denied pretty much everything big or small, put my fist into a light switch and broke it, lost my temper on a few occasions, let my dog shit all over the bedroom and under the bed (I left it there for the landlord to find) had police arrive and arrest me and take me away in handcuffs because I had apparently beaten someone up (they deserved it), threw away stuff that belonged to the house and threatened one of the other inhabitants physically after I stole his hair gel and he discovered it, but so be it – this is life and they are low lifes waiting to be used. Anyone would think that there was a problem here. And as for being irritated about the late rent – well there are more pressing things to worry about. Like my thinning hair for example – that is much more important.

After I repeated the lie about getting paid at the end of the month when the subject of the rent came up again (whores get paid cash up front) I walked out, slamming the door behind me before the discussion could go any further . He really is quite a moron.

The trouble with doing a runner is acting in haste. Of course I had been throwing things out for a week or three before I left ,which they hadn’t noticed (because they’re obviously not very bright ) and because I didn’t want them to know I was premeditating a fraud. Well ! You don’t do you! He wouldn’t have noticed that cutlery and glasses and broken plates went into the bin bags because I couldn’t be bothered to wash up after myself. However in the rush to leave while they were out, I did forget the big vibrator which I denied having in my possession or borrowing. (The landlord had some fetish gear which at times was quite useful for my rent boy work – more about that on another post). Embarrassingly I left it mouldering behind the bed after I had stuffed it up my own arse one night. The things you forget in the heat of the moment!

It’s very difficult running a private doctors surgery, being a whore, and paying rent at home so something had to give, and I for one was not going to suffer. And certainly not when I have shopping trips to Harrods and Selfridges planned. Fortunately my girlfriend who rightly thinks I am the bees knees helped me move. It’s a pity I don’t love her but there are limits, and her lack of a big juicy cock for a hot straight guy like me to suck on is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. However, she’s got money, which is why I accommodate her. Once she stops footing the bills however, she’s out the window-obviously.
Anyway I shall be spending more time at the surgery this week so I will keep you informed of any lads that have been worth inspecting.

I heard this joke and it resonated; so here it is.

I went to the doctor’s to get my aching testicles checked out. While the GP was cupping my scrotum he said
“Don’t worry, it’s quite normal to get an erection during this kind of examination”
“I haven’t got one” I said
“No, but I have” he replied

I know a whore when I see one. After all it takes one to know one as some would say.

The surgery received a phone call on Wednesday from a young man who had a delicate requirement and could he see the doctor. Fortunately I was taking the calls, as the receptionist was out getting me a baguette for lunch. The young man in question had been referred to us by a satisfied client (really? -who???) and thought that we could help. Now you know that I am pretty careful about who I allow into the surgery for treatment. As we are retained by sports colleges and teams my client base is made up of fit guys, usually doing health, fitness or sports degrees and inevitably have a good body. I don’t do fat mingers and I wasn’t about to start. Call me a fascist if you like, but there’s a limit to my generosity.

So I asked the young man in question about his problem. It seemed he had developed a skin flap or tag on his arse, and it was causing him some concern. I sympathised and confirmed how unsightly it must be.

“Well, it is” he wailed to my delight. I asked him just how visible this flap was and he replied that it was more evident than he’d like.
“Have you checked it out with a mirror?” I asked a little tastelessly. No he hadn’t but he knew it was there and a little too visible for his liking. I wasn’t so sure about this last answer. In fact, I suspected he’d pored and stretched his arse in front of a mirror but didn’t like to admit it. I wondered how he’d first noticed it – had he been touching himself there during a private moment when he found it? Or had somebody else?

He is 24 years old so well within my surgery admissions remit. I asked him about his eating habits. Apparently he eats well (but so does everyone and like everyone he only has a couple of pints a week). Oh and he goes to the gym four times a week. I made an appointement to inspect his rectal flap for the following day.

I looked up anal tags on Google, and I spoke to a couple of people who I knew would be an authority on the arse. Apparently boys who have a lot of anal sex get ‘raggedy’ arses- something new to me, but hey most of medicine is quite new to me.

Anyway true to his word he arrived on time. He was my first Asian boy; half Thai -half French, tanned and quite beautiful with very smooth skin but he was quite distinct from my usual client base. His demeanour screamed “look at me” with a lack of subtlety that said it would be mine at a price. Well, today the cunt would be paying mine.

His tee shirt was very tight and well packed with a gym fit body, his hair was dyed, and he possessed some strident and rather obvious tattoos on his arms. In fact he was the kind of hot looking guy you find in the back of the free magazines in the gay bars.

Fabulous.

I put on my counsellor’s face, – sympathetic, discreet, charming, expensive. I wanted to hear exactly what this boy’s life was about but like most whores he was careful and calculated in his answers and evidently a highly practised liar. Although, like so many of his type he wasn’t switched on enough to be a good one. You see, It’s not what is said , it’s how questions posed aren’t answered, – and they always think they have convinced you particularly if they look you in the eye. (Sorry, but no, you think you’ve answered my questions even though you evidently haven’t, even though you think I believe you, even though I don’t). If these limited maladroits had any brains they would be politicians. But then if politicians had any brains they would be bankers. And if the bankers had any brains they’d have scarpered with the loot before the credit crunched.

Anyway, I digress. He was well mannered, and his description of his lifestyle was very subtle. In fact you’d think he was a model of restraint, but one look at his tattooed arms, the chain around his neck , the gym taut body and the stupidly expensive jeans told me he was anything but. Just to be provocative, I asked what his girlfriend had said about his problem but she knew nothing about it apparently. ‘No but I bet your clients do’ I thought.
Anyone would think I am judgemental (an extraordinary idea) but stereotypes are frequently true to form whether we like to admit it or not.

“Okay well we’d better inspect your problem hadn’t we?” I said with a resigned tone. He looked down for a second but knew it was inevitable. He got up, and was ordered over to the inspection table. I’d get him naked and on all fours with his arse in the air, and his legs wide open.
“Take your clothes off ,get on to the examination table and I’ll have a look at your flap for you” I said, a little crudely.

On most occasions I allow my patients a degree of modesty when changing but this time I saw no reason to leave the room . I like watching cute boys strip, particularly sex objects, and he knew I was watching him get undressed whilst I stood there in my suit and white coat . He was wearing some trendy briefs – the sort that cost ten times as much as your average tighty whities, so we obviously weren’t dealing with Brain of Britain. I enjoyed watching him have to remove them in front of me, and needless to say I dispensed with the notion of using a modesty gown. Well I wanted to watch his cock swing for heavens sake.

I got out some disposable latex gloves and put them on, slowly, deliberately and with a hint of menace. This boy was going to feel a finger or two, and I was going to charge him for the pleasure.

I told him to face the charts on the wall. He immediately obeyed as most naked boys do in this kind of situation (quietly hoping that their humiliation will be over quickly, but alas I’m the doctor so I draw it out), with face pointed towards the wall at the back of the room rather like a naked dunce. I told him to stick his buttocks out. Not for any medical reason but seeing him there facing the wall with his arse on display at my instruction really gave me a boner.

I got out my tray of scissors, bandages, antiseptic liquids , savlon and some other handy items that I knew may be useful. Trays of tools clanked, drawers opened and shut and I also ripped open a couple of wet wipe packets for added effect, while the boy cluelessly pondered the charts in front of him, and I stared at his really quite gorgeous smooth arse.

I pulled the right buttock to the side and looked at his rosebud. It was beautiful but it gaped slightly, in that way that a well used boy’s hole does. There was nothing tight here.

I noticed the small flap of skin immediately and asked if it was causing any soreness. He replied that it wasn’t. I touched it delicately. I put my index finger over his rosebud and just smoothed it for a second. I got out some squirty lotion. Actually it was lube. I like it because it makes a squirty sound and that always sound s a bit medical doesn’t it? I smoothed it round his arse, and rubbed over his hole again. By the time I had finished with this lad he was going to know a thing or two about rectal ailments. Meanwhile, he was very quiet.

“Oh now what’s this?” I asked, trying to sound a little concerned. I had found nothing but I desired a bit of doctor patient interreaction
“What’s what?” he asked sounding worried
“Let’s have a look” I said not answering him at all. Two can play at that game.

I pushed my index finger into his rosebud, the lube giving the requisite smooth and decidedly pleasureable reaction that it always does to boys who like to be fucked. He hadn’t been expecting that and I heard him react with a sharp intake of air. Now I wasn’t expecting much reaction from his cock; so often boys on the game have trouble getting erections but his cock sprang to life very quickly.
“Mmm; one minute” I said.
“What is it?” he asked embarrassed
“Not sure yet” I replied being rather creative with the truth. I put on my mask with its light and switched it on. I went back and fingered his rosebud tantalisingly for a minute. I pushed my finger in and he groaned. His cock which had deflated slightly suddenly swang back into action and grew again with astonishing rapidity. I pushed in and out with one finger while prodding his tag with my other finger.
“Ahhhh uuhhhhhh”
“You alright there?” I asked
“Ahhh it’s just….”
“Yes?”
“It’s just that….ahhhh uhhhh….”
“Yes?”

My finger was sliding in and out smoothing his hole tantalisingly. He was naked and out of his control zone, with a doctor who was clothed and taking him to edge of ecstasy. Every time I said “yes?” my finger went a little bit further
Uhhhhh, well uhhhh”
It’s funny how inarticulate these boys become.
“Yes?”
I pushed my finger deeply into his cavity.
“UHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhh………..”
His back arched for a moment as he was fighting himself and his reactions. I could see from the side that his jawline was firmly shut, his teeth obviously gritted as he struggled not to embarrass himself. But it was a losing battle. I put my finger in again
“Yes?” My voice was more strident; more demanding. This fucker was going to humiliate himself for my pleasure.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” . That was a pleasured moan if I’d ever heard one. The pervert was getting off on it would you believe ???
“Yes?” My tone was darkening. My finger was well in there. I withdrew and added another finger. I wondered if I was going to end up fisting him for a moment. The fingers went in. My other hand just carelessly brushed the tip of his throbber for a split second as I moved about.

“UHHHHHhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”
“Yes?”
At that moment he lost all control and his cock flooded the inspection table with its milky white liquid jetting uncontrollably all over the table’s surface. I withdrew my fingers slowly and deliberately.

“Ohhh I see” I said, rather curtly after a short pause, allowing the drama of the moment to sink in.
“Now we could have avoided that if you’d just said something” I said rather nastily. I took off the gloves noisily with that rasping stretchy sound and flung them in the pedal bin, allowing the top to swing down with a bang.

He had got off the table. I handed him some wet wipes and looked at him with considerable disgust. He looked down and cleaned his deflating dick.
“And the table please” I said heaping on the humiliation. I handed him the box of wet wipes, and watched as he stood there completely naked and cleaned down the table. He knew he’d disgraced himself in front a doctor of all things, and under the most embarrassing of circumstances. He knew he was going to be subject matter for dinner party conversations for years to come.

“Well you’d better put your clothes on. I am going to have to refer your for a tagectomy as it will need to be surgically removed”
He started putting his clothes back on, shamefaced and very quietly.

“And I will need to see you a month after to check the operation has completely healed, otherwise you could have a few problems, okay? In the meantime your rectum will need time to heal and if you don’t give it space you could have serious medical complications.” I wrote a referral to the local hospital for him, charged him for two inspections up front and I booked him in for a repeat visit. I know he’ll be back; if there’s one thing a whore like this knows, it’s the value of money.

And so you should be. We would suggest an appointment with our clinic as soon as possible for all those guys who suspect that their cock is underendowed. We will expect you to strip while we attend with various exercises that will enable you to get a rock hard large cock as and when required.

At this time of year I am seeing more than a couple of students a day with stress. Stress ! They don’t know they’re fucking born. Some thing to do with exams. Having never taken any, or to put it a little more prosaically, having never passed any, I can tell you that these creatures are indulged and neurotic. And often the best way to deal with nerves is to cum a little more often than normal.

So anyway this little ginger number came in to the clinic and he hadn’t been sleeping and was suffering from mouth ulcers. He looked well filled out, his pecs and upper body nicely defining his tee shirt and it was evident to me that he needed a good going over, or as we call it in medical circles, a bloody good fucking. I asked him about his personal relationships but his exams are too important for girls apparently. I wondered if they were too important for boys as well. So I looked in his mouth. Not much to see apart from the fact it was rather red. I informed him that it would be in his best interests to have a proper medical inspection. He didn’t look very pleased which made my cock bounce a bit.
“Go behind the screen and take off all your clothes”
“But….”
I waved my hand at him to do it and looked away. I’m not having any objections today. The ingratitude on these occasions never fails to amaze me.
He was a couple of minutes, but finally this small voice called me over. He was lying on the bed but had left his pants on, which was rather disobedient. So the first thing I did was get hold of them, told him to lift his arse and pulled them off. Then I left him there while I went and fetched Bernie, who as regular readers will know likes to pass himself off as a doctor even though like me he hasn’t got a qualification to his name. Not even a driving licence though that doesn’t stop him getting about in his four wheel drive. I found him in our “minor operation suite”, lying back on the patients chair with a remote control in his hand facing the ceiling where there is a large TV screen. He had been about to watch a porno.

“I’ve got a student who’s suffering from stress, can you help?”
“Do you want me to give him some more stress?”
“Preferably yes”
“What’s he like?”
“He’s a ginge, about 21″
“Ginger? Marvellous they always go red”
I walked with Bernie back into my surgery, and informed the boy that our stress counsellor was here and he should talk to him. I asked him to come from behind the screen and sit on the main patients chair in front of us. He wanted to put his pants on.
“As you are” I quickly barked “we will have to inspect you all over and as you know I haven’t done that yet”. Just occasionally I can give alpha male authority without any questions asked and this was one of those occasions. Putty in my hands.

“Now lad tell me what’s wrong?” Bernie asked
The naked boy sat there whilst we ogled him.
“Mouth ulcers; I just came for some antibiotics”
“I see, but what is causing these mouth ulcers?”
“Exam pressure I think”
“Have you thought about having a massage?”
“Never had one- not a proper one”
“We do them here, you should book yourself in”
“Okay”

He looked bewildered. I got my stethoscope out and placed it close to his heart. Couldn’t hear a fucking thing but I’ve never known how to use it properly.
“All okay there though a slightly faster beat than normal” I opined. Well my heart would be beating slightly fast under the circumstances if I was sitting there on some plasticky chair completely naked while two besuited men were gazing at me.
Bernie took a blood pressure reading or something that was approaching one. We really must learn how to use this equipment properly.
“Yes yes, mmmm” he murmured looking at the dial, and pretending to count under his breath. Nice touch that I thought. Bernie can sound remarkably knowing when in fact he’s quite clueless.
“When did you pick up that STD?” he suddenly barked
“What STD?” said Ginge
I was looking at his cock and he was obviously completely clear.

I had to see where this was going, and I liked the way the conversation was developing. Bernie’s tone bordered on the accusatory and his stubby index finger pointed at the slightly red area around his public hair. Looking at perfectly healthy skin and inferring that he’s got a nasty STD takes some skill.
“But it’s always like that”
“Since when?”
“Forever”
“Forever?”
Bernie got his glasses out and stooped down to take a good look. The boy’s cock twitched, while I stifled a snigger.
“I’ll see what we’ve got in terms of strong ointment I said” and quickly left the room.
I was back in a second, empty handed. We don’t keep any ointments for general use apart from Savlon (and everyone has that), but I had needed to deal with that surge of laughter welling up inside me. Ginge’s face was a mixture of horror and embarrassment recoiling from Bernie’s intrusive questioning and seeing his face inspecting his crotch at very close quarters. In the event this proved to be very difficult for me to carry this through with a totally straight face. And laughter is a tad inappropriate when you’re about to touch someone up under false pretences.

“Does that hurt?” asked Bernie hopefully.
“No I just find it rather embarrassing”
Well he was naked and being prodded, mused over and stared by two clueless pseuds so can you blame him? But not everbody who seeks relief from painful mouth ulcers has the good fortune to receive a fully featured medical inspection like this, so my sympathy for him was very limited even if we did enjoy it and he didn’t. In fact I don’t think this boy knew how jolly lucky he was.
“You sure that wart doesn’t cause any pain” I asked having spotted something. I pointed to the mole at the base of his cock.
“That’s a mole”
“I better take a look at that”
And this was my opportunity. I lightly touched his knob, holding the end of it in my left hand. I rubbed it very very lightly, and like magic the fucker started to pulse. I love these career orientated sex starved students. Ginge was beetroot and I could feel the heat of embarrassment coming off him.
“Mmmm someone is very excited today.” I looked up at him , his cock in my hand. He’d now got a full erection.
“Stress management is a complex process. Sometimes the basics work better than any pill or cream. I started to rub up and down. He made an effort to get up from the chair but fortunately Bernie who was standing behind the chair lightly held his shoulders back. He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth.
“Oh Christ…”
“Don’t fight it ” I said.
But he did fight the pleasures my hand was inducing and that made it all the more erotic to watch. Watching him try to hold on and get redder in the process was just a joy. I rubbed him round his balls and lightly wanked his cock, the very light rhythmic rubbing causing his dick to swell massively. He was beginning to sweat profusely which made it easy to very lightly finger him. As my finger worked down from his balls to his arse crack I could tell he was on the verge…
“Errrrhhhhhhhhhhhhh…..”
And fuck did he go. A heavy jizzer he sprayed himself down, the jet of cum having reached one of his eyes. No doubt he would have to make up some story about why he had a red eye to his friends later.
“Mmm, well that will have done something for your stress anyway”
I gave him some hand towels.

“Rather unorthodox stress management technique isn’t it?” he asked rather curtly, when he had wiped himself down and recovered a bit.
“You’ll find your ulcers will go down now and here is a prescription. Exam success is vital and nothing should stand in your way”
“Yes but what stress management reference or orthodoxy are you using because I’ve read about things like this in the papers, and frankly it could come across as abusive?” He was standing there stark bollock naked incinuating that it was I who had abused him ! Mouthy little ginger fucking cunt.

“What time shall we book you in for that free introductory massage?” I asked sweetly.

That did the trick.