Eighteen year old wrestler needs to pass a doctor's physical exam to get on the college wrestling team. When the handsome doctor discovers that Timmy is ticklish, he puts the boy through a tickling ordeal that drives him crazy!
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The Check-Up
by Pete_Roc
Timmy Brown sat nervously in the doctor's waiting room. He couldn't concentrate on the glossy magazine propped on his knee and from time to time he chewed away at one of his fingernails.
He presented quite a different picture from the joyously excited Timmy of a few days ago. Then he had just been accepted on the college wrestling team and he was sky high with exhilaration. The freshman had undergone a tough tryout and emerged victorious to clinch a coveted place on the team.
It really was no surprise to anyone, except perhaps, Timmy himself. The eighteen year-old had been an avid wrestler all through high school and the intense physical training had given him a superb body. He was perfectly proportioned with a thick, V- shaped torso, sturdy legs, and a high, tight, ass. His shining green eyes and curly chestnut hair were Nature's gifts and needed no workouts to maintain.
But a shadow of dismay had settled in those emerald eyes when Timmy found out that all athletes were required to undergo a physical exam to be certified as able to play any college sports. That necessary certificate had brought Timmy to the nervous vigil in the doctor's waiting room.
Of course Timmy wasn't worried about his health. He was hardy as a colt. But he had never enjoyed being poked and prodded by doctors. Their roaming fingers gave him feelings of ... well., he didn't even want to use the specific word for his reactions. It only seemed to make things worse. He was trying mightily to keep his mind off the entire subject, when the nurse called out his name.
Timmy followed her into an examining room. She asked him to undress to his shorts and said the doctor would be right with him. The nurse was carrying her coat and handbag with her as she waved good-bye to Timmy. His "after hours" appointment was scheduled as a favor to the wrestling coach who didn't want any delays in getting the medical certificate. Timmy would be alone in the office with the doctor.
Timmy barely had time to kick off his sneaks when the door opened again. The doctor entered.
For some reason, Timmy's nervousness increased. There was nothing alarming about the man exactly. In fact, the first thing that popped into Timmy's head was that he was a handsome young guy. He could not have been more than thirty. Timmy guessed that he had probably just started in his own practice. Timmy hoped that the man was not too inexperienced. (It later became apparent that the doctor's knowledge was exquisite.)
Timmy was surprised at the doctor's clothing. He was wearing the loose green hospital work clothes called "scrubs". The tops were short-sleeved with a deep V-cut neck. The droopy clothes seemed as loose as a pair of pajamas. The comparison made Timmy wonder what was beneath those clothes, since, under the pajamas, what he himself wore to bed was nothing.
Timmy could see that one thing was plainly beneath the doctor's get-up: hair. And plenty of it. The doctor's outstretched arm was covered with coarse dark hairs that crawled up under the short sleeves of the green garment. And another forest of dark strands peeked over the neckline stretched across his collarbone. Timmy almost found himself staring at the sight so different from his own sleek chest and arms. Timmy reached for the doctor's outstretched hand as the older man spoke.
"Hi! I'm Dr. Jack Bennet. You can call me Jack."
Timmy nodded at the man, his mouth suddenly dry with nerves at the thought of the impending examination. "As soon as you're ready," said the young doctor as he seated himself near the corner desk, "we can begin." He frankly stared at Timmy, waiting for him to undress.
Timmy's hands shook as he tried to unbutton his shirt. The doctor's unblinking stare made him shy. Timmy was used to being naked in the locker room, but there everybody was in the same condition. Here, the doctor was all covered while he had to peel down. He thought of turning his back, but what would be the point of that? The doctor would see everything, sooner or later.
In moments, Timmy was standing in only his clean white jockey shorts and cotton athletic sox in the chilly room. But the thumping of his heart sent hot blood coursing through his body until a pink flush burned his cheeks. The doctor spoke.
"Now lie on the table, Timmy."
The boy hopped up on to the vinyl padded table and stretched himself out. The crisp white paper beneath him crinkled as he moved.
Doctor Jack approached Timmy; he never looked away from Timmy's eyes.
The freshman felt painfully vulnerable. He was stretched out for the doctor's inspection while clad in the flimsiest garments. Was Timmy imagining things? It seemed the long blunt fingers on the doctor's hairy hands were twitching in eagerness to begin examining the young athlete's body.
Doctor Jack placed a stethoscope in his ears and stretched out the disk toward Timmy's chest.
The freshman jumped as it made contact with his skin. It seemed to be giving off tingling vibrations.
"What's the matter, Timmy? Did I hurt you?"
"Uh uh." Timmy grunted. He wished that Doctor Jack would hurry, up and get it over with! But the physician stopped and questioned Timmy further.
"Well, something made you jump. What is it?" The doctor lowered his voice to a chilling whisper, "Are you...ticklish?"
Timmy gulped. His secret was out. The word he was fighting against had been spoken. But he would not give in so easily.
"Maybe Just a little bit."
The doctor's face set into a grim expression. "It seemed like more than a little bit to me. How does this feel?"
Quick as a flash the young doctor ran the index fingers of each hand down Timmy's side from the prominent ribs to where the elastic of his underpants hugged his hips.
Timmy shrieked at the touch and grabbed the hairy wrists of the doctor.
"Yes! Yes!” Timmy admitted breathlessly. "I'm ticklish!"
The doctor pulled his hands away and solemnly contemplated the panting boy,
"That's not good, young fellow. We'll have to investigate this phenomenon more thoroughly."
"We do?" Timmy gasped
"Yes. We do. Extreme ticklishness can be...er...a sign of a serious neurological disorder. Until we discover the extent of your sensitivity, I can't possibly give you a health certificate for the wrestling team." The dark-haired man moved his face directly in front of Timmy. His electric eyes seemed to hypnotize the eighteen year-old. "You do want that certificate, don't you?"
The youngster seemed helpless to argue with the doctor's commanding voice. He nodded.
"Then I am going to have to give you a ticklishness test."
"Oh no, please..." Timmy moaned.
"Yes, I'm afraid so." Doctor Jack went on, "As soon as I get you ready."
The doctor vanished from Timmy's vision and the boy stared at the ceiling paralyzed with anxiety. He was unable to resist as the doctor prepared him for the test. Within seconds Doctor Jack had Timmy securely fastened to the four corners of the examining table. Leather straps from beneath held the teenager fast by the ankles, and his wrists were stretched over his head. It all made sense to Timmy, who didn't even try to resist. He knew that if he was going to be tickled there was no way he could stay still without being held.
Doctor Jack stood back from the palpitating body strapped to his table. The only sound in the room was the heavy breathing of the immobilized Timmy.
"Almost ready.” Doctor Jack said, which made Timmy's heart sink with despair. He produced a pair of surgical scissors from a cabinet and snipped away at Timmy's jockey shorts. Now what had been apparent was made obvious. Timmy had a hard-on. A thick erection stretched up from his groin. It was almost glowing from the freshman's heat and excitement. The doctor gave a little chuckle. "Believe it or not, Timmy, you've just passed the first test." In a swift flurry, Doctor Jack shucked off his green hospital wear.
Timmy's questions were answered about what was beneath that droopy outfit. Doctor Jack's body was clad in only a jockstrap. The rubbery pouch bulged over the man's erection. But he could hardly have been called naked. His thickly hair-covered body almost seemed clothed in a fur coat. It seemed every inch of his well-developed frame boasted fuzzy nap.
Wide-eyed with terror, Timmy saw Doctor Jack turn and open a cabinet in the examining room's wall. The boy was fascinated by the pattern of dark hairs on the doctor's back. He was too preoccupied watching the man's furry butt muscles framed by the clinging jockstrap. He didn't see what the young doctor took from behind the locked door. At first.
Then he saw.
Timmy exploded into action his paralysis gone. He yanked with all his strength at the unyielding restraints clamping him to the table. As the doctor slowly approached the struggling wrestler, the boy's panic found vent in words.
"Please Doctor Jack, don't use those things on me. Please, I didn't realize...I just couldn't take it! Forget about the certificate and the team. Really, I don't want to be tested for ticklishness! You've got to let me up. Please No-No- DON'T!!" Timmy's pleading dissolved into inarticulate gasps as the doctor approached ever closer. Timmy bucked against the ropes like a frightened horse, his convulsions sending ripples of force through his erection, scattering droplets of moisture from the tip.
Timmy shut his eyes, unable to watch as Doctor Jack began the test.
A touch as light as baby's breath blew against the chiseled ribs of Timmy's torso. The pressure increased until the helpless boy burst forth in giggles. His eyes flew open, unable to hide from his torturer.
Doctor Jack was using feathers to tickle Timmy's captive body. The swarthy physician's knees were straddling the teenager's hips so that the excited boy's erection was thrusting against the doctor's jockstrap-covered hard-on. Gripped between the hairy knuckles of each hand were the fluffy red plumes the doctor had retrieved from the private cabinet. The tickling toys danced lightly along Timmy's heaving ribcage.
Doctor Jack began inching the feathers toward Timmy's armpits. They trailed through the streams of perspiration flowing down his sides. Timmy cried out as he saw the destination of the maddening feathers.
"Oh God! Not my pits! Doctor, don't do this. You're making me crazy. I'm just too ticklish! Please, let me go! I can't take it there!
But Timmy's frantic words only urged the doctor on more. His hard-on peeped over the thick waistband of his Jockstrap and gobs of fluid drooled over the taut elastic.
When the feathers began tickling Tommy's armpits he thought his heart would burst. The fronds of the dreaded feathers felt as if an army of ants had crawled into his wide open armpits. Thousands of unbearable tickling sensations exploded on the sensitive skin of those vulnerable hollows beneath his shoulders.
He couldn't help it; Timmy began to laugh. The relentless doctor teased cascades of laughter from the ticklish athlete. The boy tried to talk whenever he got breath to do so.
"Please Doctor Jack, HAHAHA I'm going crazy HEE HEE HEE It's not funny...Please stop HAAHAAHAA STOP!!"
The tickling stopped. Timmy gasped for breath and choked back the tears of laughter that the cruel tickling had caused. "Thank you! Thank you! Please now, let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone."
But Doctor Jack made no attempt to untie the unhappy teen. He bent closer to the handsome athlete and mopped the sweat from the youngster's brow. "Don't be silly Timmy, we aren't through yet. Besides how could you leave here in that condition?"
The doctor pointed at the stalk of the teenager's excited maleness. An expression of lascivious smugness on his face, Doctor Jack enclosed the young hard-on between the fingers of his hairy hands.
Against his will, Timmy groaned with pleasure. The doctor's strong fingers were coated with some sort of grease that sent scores of delicious chills throughout Timmy's over-stimulated body. The slick grip soon had the college freshman arching his back and growling like a cat in heat.
But such unalloyed pleasure was short-lived. Without breaking the wet stroking of Timmy's fiery hot rod, Doctor Jack deftly applied the feathers to the jiggling scrotum beneath.
Timmy yowled as the bumpy skin was besieged with unbearable tickling sensations. The tender ball sacs and the secret skin behind then were some of the most ticklish places on Timmy's sensitive form. He was immediately writhing furiously as his youthful body was undergoing both torturous tickling and an expert jack-off at the talented hands of the young physician. But the fierce sensations were too much for the teen.
"Please, doctor HA HA HA Stop! Stop! I can't take it HEE HEE HEE HA HAHA I'll do anything you want! HA HA HA Please stop I'm going to burst!! OH! OH! OH!"
The doctor increased his stroking and tickling of the teenager's genitals. The feathers gyrated wildly against the bouncing testicles until Tommy's hysterical laughter squelched his begging for mercy.
Doctor Jack knew his business. He saw the look in Timmy's eyes, the bright red patches on his sweating cheeks. He squeezed the boy's rigid member and tickled even harder on his wobbly nuts. Timmy Brown cried out as his cock erupted into streams of thick white orgasm. Then the boy slipped into darkness.
Timmy woke up. He was slumped on the couch in the doctor's waiting room. He was alone. He was also surprised that he was fully dressed.
Timmy felt exhausted. Had his encounter with the fiendish Doctor Bennet been only a dream? Had he slipped into sleep while waiting to be called in for his appointment? He wasn't about to stick around to find out. After a nightmare like that, Timmy was not about to let any doctor ever go near him again for the rest of his life. Timmy fled the office. Descending in the elevator, Timmy reached into his jacket pocket and his hand touched a paper there. He pulled it out. It was the school's health certificate. It was signed and stamped by Doctor Bennet. Timmy had passed the check-up.
Pete_Roc