Getting the Most out of a Bruised Fruit.
In the pristine greenish-white almost-empty alleys of the hospital, in the late morning, Bruised Fruit slowly walked behind his father. He was looking all around him with his aqumarine eyes, only seeing what looked like two endless sets of light brown doors with a small window high up, plus, every five doors or so, there was a shiny metal pot containing some kind of wide-leafed plant; while every two doors there was a poster either asking for donations, giving out basic precautions for hospital visitors, or public service announcements on many kinds of illnesses whose names were too complex and too scary for Brusied to think about or even remember.
“Dad…” he muttered as he nervously extended his yellow-and-cyan tail outwards and kept his grape purple ears low.
“Yes, Bruised?” his dad, Eggplant Cheeser, said as he strode forward down the corridor.
“Why are we doing this?” he meeped quitely “What’s wrong with me?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” Eggplant said “in fact, I just want to check if what I’m seeing is true, and you’re on the way to become a big, strong stallion like me, ready to conquer every mre on your path.”
Bruised Fruit nodded and gulped, the idea wasn’t as appealing to him as it was for his father, but he knew better than start complaining in public (or question his father at all, really), so he just followed his father along.
After going down the somewhat-empty corridors of the hospital (which did not help his little nerves) for what felt like an eternity to Bruised, the corridor abruptly stopped as it met with another one. Despite Eggplant blocking the view, Bruised could see there were ten arrows, five pointing to the right and five to the left, each with a big word or two written on them, and under the arrows there were two bonsai eucalypti.
“Pho-ra-da-co-lo-gy? Pou-li-atrics?” he tried to read them, sounding each syllabe, just to be sure to be pronouncing them correctly “What do those words mean?”
“Doesn’t matter, we’re looking for okeiology,” he said, before suddenly turning to the right “which is right down here!”
Bruised Fruit stood there, confused at what his father said and had done, before he shook his head and rapidly trotted behind him. As he walked down the corridor, it started getting more lively, with nurses and doctors coming and going out of rooms at fast speed, almost as if their hooves had been strapped to rockets or their heads had been filled to the brim with coffee and sugar.
“Hey Bruised, sit down and wait here, the doctor will be here soon.” Eggplant suddenly said. He blinked and looked all around him: he saw a really long row of green seats, with a pile of magazines every ten, and four doors with brass plaques on each of them, with a different name and what looked like profession written on them. As for the walls, there was huge, foreboding clock with big black numbers and rust red clock hands that looked as wide as surfboards and a mile long hanging up above the doors, four posters of natural landscapes (one of a lone and barren mountain standing against a clear sky, one of a desert whose dunes’ shape resembled a rose, one of a beach teeming with crabs and seashells, and one of a flowery meadow in the middle of an oak forest) hanging next to each door, while on the wall opposite to them there were several public service posters placed side-by-side with colorful but undecipherable abstract paintings.
“See that one?” Eggplant said, pointing his left hoof to the door on the extreme right with the plaque reading ‘Dr. Vasector Vaserepto, okeiologist’, which was characterized by the presence of a blue sign resembling a circle with an arrow sticking out upwards on its right “That’s the nice doctor that’s going to take a look at you… and inside you.”
Bruised Fruit felt a shiver going down his spine and his hooves felt weak. But, gritting his teeth, he tried his best to put up a brave face and remain calm at the mention. He didn’t have to keep it up for long, however, as a sand-colored mare in green scrubs walked out of the door with a strange step that mixed hopping with striding.
“Brusied Fruit, it’s time for you to come in!” she sing-sang, grinning deviously for whatever reason unfathomable to Bruised, something that didn’t help with his earlier nervousness. But, swallowing loudly, he stepped forward into the doctor’s studio, with the nurse standing by his left and his father going in front of him.
As expected, it was fairly white and rather clean (if not outright sterile), with the usual formica table with the usual metal and clear plastic chairs right and the common examination table with a paper tissue laid over an ecoleather cover for the padding right in front of h, on the left the classic medicine cabinet made out of glass and metal and containing both boxes of medications and instruments everyone hoped to never see in action, as well as the normal sight of a bunch of mysterious contraptions badly hidden by a tent on Bruised’s right. Overall, nothing really stuck out for Bruised, except maybe for the fan-lamp that was rotating on the ceiling, and a small stack of colorful magazines placed right next to the normal stack of papers.
“Good day.” Eggplant Cheeser said as he walked towards the doctor, a light green unicorn pony with dark grey mane and a white coat that fit him rather loosely, who was busy rearranging papers.
The doctor dropped the papers on the table, slowly turned around and nodded at Eggplant.
“Good day, Mr. Cheeser. I take your son is here?” he said as he scanned the room around him. Bruised unconsciously tried to make himself smaller.
“Yes, there he is,” Eggplant stepped aside “he’s a bit confused about this whole thing, so don’t mind him too much.”
The doctor nodded silently as he glanced at the nurse, who immediately went to the cabinet to clearly rummage through it, looking for something he couldn’t possibly know. When the doctor turned around towards him and his father again,, Bruised Fruit almost stumbled backwards, only stopped by his father’s legs.
“Alright doc, since we’ve already settled this whole thing before,” Eggplant said while winking and slowly turning around “he’s all yours to mess around!”
Bruised Fruit froze up a little as he heard those words escape his father, spending several seconds in scared shock before turning around to check the look in his father’s face. However, despite his slow step, Eggplant had already left the room. Bruised Fruit gulped and trembled as he turned to face the doctor.
“S-so… what now?”
“Hop on that table,” the doctor said in a deadpan tone as he pointed towards the examination table “she’s going to check your measurements before we start with the real procedure.”
“What measurements?” he timidly asked as he looked around himself with lowered ears and arching his back while standing on the tip of his hooves.
“Your genital ones, of course, why do you think you’re here?” the doctor scoffed, before turning to the nurse “Proceed.”
“Sure thing!” she said between her teeth, before she dropped on the examination table a mean-looking compass and a meter from her mouth. She then looked back at Bruised Fruit, who looked right in her eyes with fear.
“C’om over here,” she gestured to him “I’ll be gentle, I promise!”
Bruised stared at the nurse. She looked at him back, as a small, oddly devious and warm at the same time, smile formed on her face. He looked behind him, only to see the locked door behind him: he clearly neither win or escape it. He could only accept his fate.
He undid his previous position and walked forward to the examination table: as he did so, the nurse cleared its surface by moving the instruments aside.
When he was close, he jumped up on the edge and crawled on it. At first it was just his front hooves, but then it came his chest, and he would’ve gone with all fours on the table, had he not felt a poke on his side.
“Don’t keep crawling, you’re fine as-is.” the nurse said. Bruised stopped and made himself comfortable by placing his front hooves forward and laying his chin onto the paper cover, thus taking a nuzzleful of that strange smell that only that kind of paper had.
“Okay Bruised, time for you to spread your legs.” she said, while taking up the compass with her hooves.
“But…” he said blushing.
“Oh, don’t you worry, it’s not gonna hurt, and plenty of little stallions like you get seen like that in here.” the nurse lilted as she fiddled with the compass.
Bruised Fruit, feeling like he wanted to hide in a corner, spread out his legs while biting lightly on his tongue, as he tried to think about what could his dad buy him afterwards.
“The instrument’s going to be a bit cold,” she said as she approached it to his rear end and his private parts “but it’s not going to hurt.”
“I hope so.” he whimpered, trying (and definitely failing) in his attempts at not thinking about the object that was slowly but surely approaching his little balls. His mind conjured up many scenarios, ranging from the instrument making him a filly by taking his nuts away, to twisting them in odd and painful ways as an alternative to the hammer on the knees.
He felt a cold pich on his nutsack and something encroaching his right ball. A motion repeated itself a few times, sending an uncomfortable feeling up his spine. After a few times, he snapped his head around as his rear legs twitched uncontrollably. He saw the nurse gingerly closing the compass down on his right testicle.
“Oh, don’t you mind me, just checking those juicy things of yours are.” she chirped as she swiftly moved on to measure the other one, repeating the process once more “uhuh, looks like on testicle’s bigger than the other.”
Bruised blinked, both perplexed and scared at the news.
“W-will I get it cut down?” he asked. She she let out a crystalline (and rather loud) laugh.
“No, silly, who gave you that idea?” she said as she copped a feel of his sft left cheek, much to his confusion and embarrassment “I was just seeing how big they were. Besides, as you grow up, they’ll match, I’m sure.”
Bruised nodded, not quite believing her, but not feeling up to arguing either.
“Now, let’s get a little more personal…” she muttered as she bent her neck down.
His ears perked up, his whole body felt hot, his coat’s hair stood straight up like nails, his eyes grew the size of dinner plates, his whole face scrunched up and his whole rear quivered, when he felt something wet, squirmy and warm enter his butthole and crawl a fair bit inside of him, a long string of wet, slurping sound accompanying the act. It was an odd sensation, sending shivers all over his body, making the walls of his tight plothole spasm and push in order to try to push out that wet intruder, it was a completely new feeling that made him squirm in his position and groan in discomfort. However, soon enough, helped by the constant slithering in his insides and the nurse’s hoth breath over his genitals, he started to strangely like it for reasons he didn’t get. Soon, as his butthole clenched upon the tongue, he felt his penis harden, finding it odd, for he wasn’t feeling any urge to pee, and yet, there it was, going up at full mast and growing very hard, pulsing and throbbing quite violently, to the point Bruised just squeaked at the sheer embarrassment at being caught like that, yet not quite being sure on the “why” beyond a vague sense he shouldn’t have been seen like that, especially from a mare like that nurse.
The nurse kept going for a few more seconds. With a slicking sound, the sensation inside of him slowly disappeared, as she pulled her tongue out and instead went to pick up the meter up instead. However, while she extended the meter to measure his dick, Bruised could still feel her hot bated breath blowing over his butthole and nuts, causing him to groan and meep at the same time.
“Wow, you’ve got quite the package, for a colt your age!” she said with a sultry hiss in her voice “Eleven centimeters… wonder how bigger it’ll get in a few years...”
He tilted his head, going “huh?”, but didn’t dare asking any questions.
“Now that we’ve got this out of the way, question time,” she said “tell me in all sincerity, do you touch yourself at night at all? Or try to hump pillows? Or spend a lot of time cleaning your cock while in the bath?”
“No… I don’t, why do you ask?” he unsurely asked, not sure whether or not he was supposed to say something specific about that or if they wanted to hear the actual truth.
“Marvelous! Let’s start our procedure right up!” she chirped “C’mon, hop down!”
Confused and more than a little scared about what could it possibly be, Bruised crawled backwards until he managed to tumble down off the table to then get right back up. He then turned around, where he saw the nurse using her mouth to move away the green curtain to reveal a big contraption full of wires, tubes, monitors and clamps. He recoiled a little at the sight and gulped.
“Get on there and get comfy over there, ‘cuz we’re pumping everything out!”
Somehow, that did not make him feel anymore comfortable. He whispered “no”, but, realizing he was hopelessly outmatched and unable to run away, he slowly and carefully moved forward, dreading every step forward. Eventually, though, he reached the contraption and, before he say or do anything, the doctor had already used his magic to lift him up and lay him down on the table, making him slightly dizzy, just enough for making easy for the doctor to pull three straints on him, one over his rear legs, one on his chest and one over his forehead. Now, finding himself as bound as a salami, Bruised started to squirm and fidget in his restraints. not liking neither the position he had found himself in nor the fact his movements were restricted like that.
“The procedure will be done as such, so listen closely:” the doctor said, pacing around the curtain while the nurse fidgeted with the cables and wires “first, the nurse shall apply electrodes to your forehead, so to record your brain activity under stimulation.”
The nurse took a bundle of cables as thin as snakes, and started separate them in single ones very rapidly, peeling a film off one of its ends before slapping them all over his somewhat-sweaty forehead.
“Second, the electrocardiogram shall be applies to your chest, to monitor your heartbeat through the whole procedure.”
The nurse picked up four patch-like oval gauzes, two red and two blue, with a metal stud above them. She rapidly placed them in a strange pattern on his centre-right chest, before picking up four clamp cables, which she clamped around the gauzes’ studs.
“Thirdly, your brain activity during the test shall be recorded by the way of a electroencephalogram.” he said. The nurse swished Bruised’s front mane away and started to rapidly apply pads on his forehead, thus creating some kind of cable tiara on his head.
“Fourthly, and most importantly, your prostate’s entire contents will be extracted with the usage of a pressure-applying device inserted upon your fully-erect penis, while electrical stimulations on your scrotum will keep steady levels of production.”
Bruised Fruit tilted his head at the series of long and/or scary words that were coming out of the doctor’s mouth. He hissed a few syllables, but he didn’t have the courage to express himself about it. The fact that the nurse’s cheeks had gotten much pinker than before, trotting in place as she grinned weirdly, did not help with his nervousness at all. Her taking up a long transparent tube attached to a tiny little hose that lead back to one of the machines joined together with the others and setting it upon his dick just as it was softening up and placing a few cold silvery squares on right onto his nuts and around his butthole’s rim felt like the epitome of embarrassing, an event just behind getting that hot tongue up his anus in terms of confused pleased uncomfiness.
There was suddenly a lot of clicking and clanking, then beeping and then scribbling, all in the span of a few seconds, which caused Bruised to squirm startled in his restrains.
“Calm down, or you will alter the results of this ‘at-rest’ test.” the doctor said sternly and in a deadpan tone.
“Yeah, sweetie, we’re just recording your heartbeat and brain working, nothing to be worried about!” the nurse said, her rear legs trembling somewhat for some reasons “I mean, it’s just the prelude for… uh, nevermind, yeah, the bleeping is your heart and the scribblin’ is your brain.”
As the beeping kept going at a fiarly steady pace and the scribbling sounded more like a hiss, he blinked perpled.
“My heart… bleeps?”
“Oh, no no, it beats like any other heart, it’s just how it’s rendered by the machine, silly!” the nurse said.
“Uh… if you say so…” he looked away and sighed, the feeling of all those cables clinging all over his body getting more and more unnerving each passing second.
“Alright, we have gathered enough data,” there was a ripping sound as the doctor turned around to use his magic to scribble something up on a block notes and moved a long strip of paper closer to the table, all at the same time “let us start.”
“Yay!” the nurse said enthusiastically as she hopped almost behind the examination table and did something that caused a whirring sound to be produced. Bruised gasped as he almost felt a few drop of pee coming out of him in fear, but he bit his lip and tried to avoid moving too much or show too much terror, least he suffered some nebulous terrible consequence.
At first, he felt a squeezing sensation over his little shaft and a couple of shcosk in his butt. He gasped again, but, this time, the sensations were almost good. He let out a reluctant groans, as the pressure over his not-so-soft penis increased by the second, and as he felt it grow bigger and longer and harder at every spasm, his lower body pulsating somewhat, helped by the mild shocks that seemingly emulated the nurse’s tongue from earlier, only limited strictly to the rim, reminding him of when he was a younger colt that used toilet paper to massage his plothole’s meaty entrance to have some fun on the toilet. In a few seconds of such stimulation, Bruised’s dick had reached full length, its tip brushing against the very end of the tube, causing him to shiver as every little touch made a discharge of natural electricity go down the shaft and to his brain in a way that made him moan and squeak a little.
“Two notches.”
As soon as the doctor said that, Brusied felt the shocks in his butthole go from gentle and almost caressing to am uch stronger sensation, making his tight little hole spasm, push and press down on a non-existent intruder and causing him to squeak loudly as his penis started to throb somewhat vigorously. He stared at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity, panting as his eyes almost rolled into the back of his head, his limbs twitching somewhat as he tried to think of something coherent, but could not, for his mind was getting foggy with all the unknown pleasure he was getting.
“Insert.”
Hearing these words, Bruised made an effort to stop looking up and instead look forward: he saw the nurse take a gnarly bent-up white thing out of a box and start to slowly and methodically lick and suck on it like a lollipop, much to his confusion due to his electricity-caused daze. Then, with a beet-red face and trembling legs, she put it in her mouth and then rammed it up his butt. Accompanied by a siren-like rushing spike in the machine’s bleeping, Bruised yelped loudly and meeped as now his ass’ walls couldn’t freely sparm but had to adapt to the new object.
“Activate and turn up by five notches, three-on-one and two-on-two.”
All at the same exact time, the tube started to suck as a hard as a powerful vacuum cleaner, strong and continuous shocks directly on his nuts created sharp notes of pain intermixed with high notes of enjoyment, and the object inserted deep inside his anal cavity started vibrate and buzz strongly against the same sensitive spot as before: all of this served to create a feeling that got him to roll her eyes and to moan loudly, drooling over the bed as his front limbs futilely attempted to trash around in the restrains, the bleeping slowing down but still going back to a steady and fast rhythm not unlike an energic rock song blasted directly in his ears, the scribbling going erratically fast as it tried to capture every single activity going inside his pleasure-addled little brain.
A pressure rapidly built up inside of his lower body, inside his cock, inside his balls; it swelled like a balloon inflated by helium; it reached a peak that made Bruised see stars all over the place; and, finally, a rush of violent pleasure and release enveloped him, causing him almost to faint as pressure started to trickle away in a flash. He started to breathe heavily and to sweat, but the pressure kept going. With his vision blurry, he saw that the tube had completely turned white on the top, a white liquid dripping down his dick before being pushed right back up by the vacuum-like sucking and pulling the tube itself wa extering, with the shocks still going strong. Soon, the pleasure he felt before went away, replaced by soreness, but he still couldn’t find strength to say anything as the strong shocks still molested his nuts and the sucking tube gave his cock no mercy, and as the tinner tube had basically become a long continous stream of white liquid.
“Oh wow, you’ve been real pent up for a little colt like you!” the nurse exclaimed “I want… some.”
Bruised couldn’t answer, as he felt his lower body feel emptier and emptier, as his balls felt like slowly retreating into him as they emptied, and as his cock felt like it was becoming just a little bit longer due to the pressure uselessly exerted on it.
“Turn down and off, we have got enough sperm samples.” the doctor said “Once turned off, you can proceed to satisfy your desires.”
With a loud squeal that could’ve shattered windows, the shocks, the vibration and the sucking ended abruptly.
Bruised Fruit breathed heavily and shook his head.
“Ow… my ding-dong…” he muttered, as his little penis weakly throbbed and shrunk in size little by little “Is it over at least?”
“Not yet,” she said, while carefully peeling away the things on his testicles “but Im giving you a few minutes.”
“A few minutes for what?” he weakly asked, as she rhythmically tapped her forehooves over his crotch.
“To recover!” she said, once she decided to go to the next step and remove the stained tube “There’s not much fun to be had if your ‘ding-dong’, as you call it, doesn’t quite work.”
He gulped a little, as she started to rub his belly.
“Now, don’t you worry,” she said, circling her left forehoof around his belly button “I’m a gentle one. Nothing of this extra juicy, but also extra annoying, stuff you just went through.”
“Y-you promise?” he asked, not quite sure he wanted to either anger her or go through another session like it but with apparently only the nurse.
“I promise,” she winked, as she slowly started to remove the cables from his chest “ tender second rounds with lil’ colts like you are lovely.”
“Second round? You mean…”
The nurse booped his nose, causing his muzzle to scrunch up.
“No, not like that,” she giggled and sighed “all I’m going to need for it will be my pretty and lusciously attractive body.”
“Lusciously?”
“It just means sweet,” she said, while removing whatever wa left on his forehead “basically, my smokin’ hot flank and pussy.”
Bruised Fruit tilted his head curiously, as the nurse turned around to look at the clock.
“Oh dear, only five minutes have passed since I’ve stopped this thing.” she said in a disappointed tone “Mind if I gave you a few useful pills?”
“Um… if my dad approves…”
And, just like that, there was a knock on the door.
“Open up please, I’m Eggplant Cheeser.” a voice said from the other side of the door.
The nurse trotted happily to the door.
“Heya Mr. Cheeser, mind if I gave your son a few erectile aids for quickie? He didn’t liek the test very much, despite being an extremely healthy and fertile colt.” she said, her vocie cracking.
“Certainly! May I join in? I’m great with cunnilingus!”
Bruised Fruit gulped.
