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Would you please torture her until she stops?

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JOE’S PHYSICAL EXAM
The day had finally arrived. My uncle handed me the keys to his gym, kissed me on the cheek, wished me the best of luck and got into the taxi bound for the airport. While I had prepared myself for these events it still felt surreal as they all played out. My uncle, the owner of "Muscles and More", had retired and turned the business over to me. He smiled at me through the open window of the cab and said: "You're going to do great, Kevin. I'll text you when I land in Madrid."
For the past twenty years Uncle Jack had built his gym business by being personable, keeping costs down, and running a spotless workout facility that folks liked to come to. It was also undeniable that men comprised the majority of the gym members. This was mainly true because of the focus on free weights but there was also a small group of faithful women who also enjoyed working out in a friendly but no nonsense atmosphere.
As he thought about his future and his retirement from the business, Uncle Jack had approached me a year and a half earlier to gauge my interest in taking over the business. At first I said no but then I began to take stock of my life. I was now 26 years old and had no permanent job or career for that matter. It was true that I had dabbled, even studied numerous subjects especially related to health, anatomy and well being.
My main problem was that I rarely finished what I had started. For example, I had completed all of the course work towards being a certified massage therapist and aced every exam. However, I never finished my hours of actual practice or took the certification exam. I also started my training as a medic but never finished the final courses or practicum.
Looking back I probably had enough course work in human physiology and basic medical procedures to send me on my way to medical school. But, it only swirled in my head with no other purpose for its use.
Now, with "Muscles and More" I had the opportunity to work at something daily and maybe even build upon it. I enjoyed exercise and had taken numerous courses on exercise as well as physical training and its effects on the body.
It felt nice to be muscular and in good shape and perhaps I could inspire others to do the same. Yes, Uncle Jack, this indeed might be the opportunity I have been looking for and absolutely need right now at this time of my life.
I dove right into the workings of the business, meeting with Uncle Jack's long time accountant to get a sense of the financial picture. He assured me that everything was in good order mainly because Jack only needed one other part time employee. That fact that we were not a 24 hour big gym helped to make it an more manageable place with only one other part time helper.
Chad was my part time employee. He was an eternal college student and liked the part time work in what he called "my perfect environment." I imagine he felt this way because Chad was a bodybuilder and enjoyed working out with some of the more serious lifters. Plus, I liked having a good looking muscleman welcoming in our patrons as well as answering the questions of potential clients.
About two weeks after I had assumed ownership of the gym I was working at the welcome desk, typing away on my computer when I realized that someone was standing at the counter. I looked up and was most pleasantly surprised to see Joe Clayton standing there.
Joe had worked in different capacities for my uncle several years back. He tended to be a reserved sort of man and, given his physical stature, I always found that somewhat engaging and even a bit sexy.
Joe was probably in his early to mid fifties. He was a handsome man with a chiseled face that always seemed like he was a day late for a shave. Standing at about six feet tall and definitely weighing in at more than two hundred pounds he had a large yet muscular frame.
He wasn't a bodybuilder like Chad but he was definitely solidly built. And for me, the thing I found most endearing was the few extra pounds that he carried around his middle. It was as if he was always trying to get rid of that little "bulge" but his taste for beer or ice cream or some other wicked delight just made the task seemingly impossible.
I stood up smiling and gave Joe a warm handshake. His brown eyes sparkled and he said: "Hello Kevin. I just heard that you are now the owner here and I wanted to come by and congratulate you."
I heard his words but my mind seemed to be more focused on the black hair springing from the opened top of his shirt which covered his muscular chest. "Has your uncle already left for Spain?" he asked.
"Yes" I replied. "He is finally getting the chance to make his retirement dream a true one by sitting on a beach in the south of Spain and soaking up the sun."
Joe smiled and began to look around the facility. "Do you think your are going to enjoy being the boss?" he inquired.
I laughed at that word 'boss' and responded that I thought that I had finally found my calling. Joe looked puzzled and asked what I meant. "Well," I continued "I've had a number of different projects and years invested in various college programs. Now I feel like I have more of a focus and, perhaps, I will even be able to make use of what I have studied in the past."
The look on his handsome face told me that Joe was a bit perplexed. "I knew that you had taken university classes but did you ever graduate?" he wondered.
"No" I responded. "But believe me I have a lot of knowledge swirling around in my head. For example, I studied anatomy and massage therapy but never took the exams for my certification. In addition, I took a number of medical courses and considered working in the health industry. But, it seems that I always wandered off course. Now, I find that I am very grateful that Uncle Jack had enough faith in me to do this job."
"Perhaps" added Joe "your uncle felt that, because of your knowledge and background, you would be the perfect person for a job like this. I mean, here we are at a place where we use our bodies. I think Jack was a smart guy to turn his business over to you."
I blushed a bit and thanked Joe for his vote of confidence. We were about to continue our conversation when Joe's cell phone rang. He excused himself to take the call.
As he walked away I was treated to the sight of his beautiful, firm butt encased in his rather worn jeans. I began to drift into my fantasy of what it might be like to see that magnificent ass without the protection of pants. But I was interrupted by the ringing of the office phone.
A few moments later, Joe returned to the desk. "Listen, Kevin" he said "I would like to ask you a question. I recently had my hours cut at my current janitorial job and that, of course, has impacted my cash flow. So, I was wondering if you just might have any part-time work for me that might fit into my schedule. You know me, Kevin. I'm a good worker and I would never let you down."
I thought about it for a moment. It was true that Joe was reliable and dedicated to whatever task he took on. In addition, I also knew that Uncle Jack would do what he could to help out his buddy.
So I said to Joe: "You know, I think I might just have the perfect position for you. I could really use someone to do the nightly cleaning. Right now I do it all. Do you think you could help me out there? Perhaps you could work two hours a night Monday-Thursday to start. What do you think?"
If Joe had any reservations he didn't raise them because he accepted the position immediately telling me that it would fit into his schedule nicely and the extra cash would go a long way in helping make up his current deficit.
We agreed on an hourly rate and decided that he should begin on the following Monday night. With a smile that almost made me melt, Joe shook my hand and headed toward the exit door. Once again I watched as his sturdy, round ass disappeared out the door. Would I ever be able to get him to take those pants off so that I might gaze on his perfect buttocks? I clearly needed a strategy.
After a week or so, Joe had settled into a smooth routine. He arrived just as the last guest was leaving, locked the door and began with the task of cleaning and straightening up. I had to admit that the place always looked great the following morning after a thorough and complete cleaning. His presence allowed me time to finish paper work or even do my own workout.
One evening, I completed a rather intense workout on my arms and chest. I was a sweaty mess as I headed to the locker room to shower. I could hear the vacuum going in another part of the building so I figured Joe was cleaning there.
Once inside the locker room I took off my sweaty clothes and walked naked to the gang shower room. As I did so, the door opened and in walked Joe. He stood just a few feet from me. I smiled, greeted him but he looked flustered.
"Sorry, Kevin," he mumbled as he diverted his eyes from my naked body. "I didn't realize that you were in here."
I laughed at his obvious awkwardness and said: "It's OK, Joe. I mean, it' a locker room after all. Are you here to clean?"
"Yes," he replied "but I can wait until you have finished if you like."
"Don't be silly" I said. "I just need to take a shower so go ahead and start with the sinks. I'll be done in a couple of minutes and you can do the shower room."
I turned the water on and let it cascade over my worked out body. It felt wonderful. When I had finished, I turned the water off and realized that I did not bring a towel from the table at the other end of the locker room. Not wanting to drip water everywhere while Joe cleaned I called to him and asked him to grab me a towel.
He brought one to me and I told him that I hoped that I did not overdo it in my workout. Now, for some reason, he appeared a bit more comfortable with my nakedness because he inquired about my workout. I continued drying myself as I gave him the details of my methodical "road to bigger arms" workout. He looked at my arms and said that it appeared I was having some success.
I wrapped the towel around my waist, walked to my locker and grabbed my comb. As I combed my hair I asked Joe about his workout routine. I told him it looked as if he too had some interest in maintaining an athletic looking body. He told me that for cardio he liked to run in the early morning and that he had a set of weights in his basement that made a gym membership unnecessary.
I reminded him that he was welcome to work out here as well. He told me that he sometimes lifted a bit before locking up for the night but most nights he just wanted to get home and into bed. When he finished speaking I undid my towel and hung it on the door of the locker. "Now, let's see if Mr. Scale can be kind to me," I joked.
Unashamed and with an air of confidence I walked over to the scale. Joe followed nearby me and said: "No cheating, now."
I laughed and said: "OK, mister. How about if you set the weights. That way there will be no fudging on my part."
Joe laughed and followed behind me as I walked to the balance beam scale reminiscent of what you might see in any doctor's office. I wondered what might be going through his mind as he watched me walk naked to the scale.
As we arrived Joe placed each of the small weights to zero and said: "OK, Kevin. Hop on."
I stepped onto the scale and Joe moved the weights. Finally they came into balance. "178" he said.
"No," I protested. I looked at Joe. But all he did was point at the number and shrugged. "Last week, at my doctor's office it was 176 and that was with clothes on." I whined.
"Well, perhaps the gain is from muscle and not fat." said Joe. As he spoke he gabbed my bicep and gave it a playful squeeze. "Remember, Kevin that muscle weighs more than fat." I continued to say that the scale was mistaken but Joe just chuckled at my vanity.
I got off the scale and asked: "What do you weigh, Joe?"
"Hmm," he replied. "Probably 210-215, I guess."
"You guess?" I said a bit incredulously. "Well, what did you weigh at your last doctor's visit?"
"Doctor?" inquired Joe as if I had just spoken in a foreign language. I haven't been in a doctor's office in probably twenty years. I don't need them."
"Really?" I asked. "You haven't seen a doctor or had a physical check-up in twenty years."
"Nope." replied Joe.
I was about to ask why in the world he hadn't visited a doctor but I think he sensed the question coming because he grabbed his whisk broom and playfully smacked it against my bare butt saying: "Now go get dressed and go home. I have work to finish."
Joe disappeared into the shower room with his mop and bucket. Once again I watched as his beautiful buttocks disappeared into the room. "Someday" I whispered softly to myself. And then the smallest seed of a plan began to germinate in the back of my mind. I finished dressing, said good night to Joe and then headed home.
About a week later I decided that my plan was both solid as well as believable and I decided it was time to roll it out. Joe had just finished locking up and was headed to grab all of his cleaning supplies. I was sitting behind the reception desk and, as he passed by, I asked him if I might talk to him about something. He came around the front counter and I motioned at a chair and told him to have a seat.
"Oh-oh," he quipped. "Am I in trouble?" he asked with a bit of a grin.
"Of course not." I laughed. "In fact, I've had a number of comments from some members that the place never looked or smelled so clean. You are doing an amazing job."
Joe blushed. At that moment I just wanted to lean over and kiss him full on the lips. But, that act was not part of the plan. So I maintained my professional tone and continued. "Joe" I said "I have been concerned about something that you shared with me last week."
"What are you referring to?" Joe inquired, clearly perplexed.
"You told me that you have not seen a doctor in twenty years. That concerns me Joe. It really does." I gazed at him searching his face for a sign of how he was going to react.
"Well..." began Joe but nothing else came from his mouth. It was as if he were searching for an answer and just could not find the words. He looked at me blankly and then looked down at the floor.
So I decided to take the lead. "Let me ask" I started. "Are you afraid of the doctor or what goes on in a doctor's office? Have you had bad experiences with doctors?"
Joe looked at me and then looked away. "To be honest," he said "I am not a fan of the doctor's office. I really hate needles for one thing. But the bigger reality is that I have absolutely no form of health insurance." Again, he looked down at the floor. I could tell that he was embarrassed because of his age and his lack of such an important necessity.
"I understand" I said. "So you don't really know your numbers do you?"
"Numbers?" asked Joe.
"Yes." I continued "I am referring to your weight, your BMI, your blood pressure, and your pulse. And I'm not even touching on other numbers like cholesterol and things like that." Looking directly at him I reminded him that he had admitted that he didn't even know his weight and this is a number most folks have at their fingertips.
Joe insisted that he was healthy but I countered that argument by asking how he could be certain. He had no response. The groundwork was complete so I decided to move on to the next part of my plan.
"As you know," I started "I have a fairly good background in anatomy, the human body, and even medicine. I was a pre-med student for three years, volunteered in a clinic and also studied massage therapy. While I am no MD I might be able to help you out and give you some information about the general state of your health."
Joe looked completely mystified. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean" I said smiling "that I could do an evaluation of your overall health. I can take your blood pressure, check your pulse and even have you step up onto that dreaded scale in the men's locker room."
"I can't draw any blood or even have a needle around as I do not have the training for that but I can certainly check your vitals, reflexes and overall well being. But, obviously, only if you wanted to do this." Then I waited.
Once again he gazed down at the floor clearly just not knowing what to say. So I went a step further.
"If you like," I began "we could select an evening when you are here. We could skip some of the cleaning and make time to do a health screening. I have all of the necessary equipment including a detailed form where I could write all of the numbers and then give it to you for your reference."
Once again, I waited and this time it seemed like an interminable wait. However, the invitation was now on the proverbial table.
He looked at me sheepishly and asked "I know that you are a smart guy Kevin. Maybe it would be a good thing for me to at least know some of the things that you talked about. OK, Dr. Kevin," he joked "let's do this. What would be a good night?"
"I don't think we should wait so why don't we plan on doing your health screening tomorrow night. I'll make sure I have everything here that I need. All you need to do is show up."
Joe stood up and offered his hand to me. We shook and he thanked me. Then he headed back to work. I watched him depart feeling a mixture of nervousness and excitement. Soon, I thought, all will be revealed and perhaps I might even learn a bit about Joe. Soon.
THE NEXT NIGHT
The following night Joe called and said he was running late due to some problems at his other job. He apologized and told me he would arrive as soon as humanly possible.
I closed up after the last client left and then headed into the locker room to set up my mini "clinic". I took out the large padded training table that was folded up in the back closet and set it up on one side of the locker room.
Looking at it I realized that it would serve well as a good staging area for doing some of Joe's vitals. On the nearby counter I laid out my other medical tools as well as a measuring tape.
As I was clipping the intake form to my clipboard my cell phone rang. It was Joe calling to inform me that he had forgotten his key. While I walked down the corridor to let him in, I thought that it was a bit unusual for Joe to forget his key. He is generally a well organized man. Nervousness, perhaps?
I let Joe in the door and locked it behind him. He looked a bit frazzled and told me that he had a miserable day at his other job but was able to resolve things before his departure. I instructed him to sit down in the small lobby area by the greeting desk and just catch his breath.
He did as I told him and we just sat and chatted a bit. He described his day a bit and I listened. The entire time I was captivated by this sudden need to "decompress" from the normally calm and somewhat aloof Joe.
After a few minutes Joe seemed much calmer so I suggested that we take a walk into the locker room so that he could see that I was indeed ready for his evaluation. We walked in and he looked first at the padded training table and then at the array of medical equipment including the stethoscope and blood pressure cuff.
He stood silent for a moment as he looked around. It was almost as if he were evaluating the situation and thinking about a way out.
Sensing his uneasiness I asked: "Are you nervous about all of this, Joe? If so, I am hoping I can help get you past that tonight."
Joe turned and looked at me. With a sheepish grin he admitted that he was nervous but he didn't really know why. He had always avoided doctors.
I reminded him that I was not a doctor but I was well versed in measuring and charting his physical stats.
"Are we doing this now?" Joe inquired.
"I think it best." I replied. "We can gather the necessary statistics and then, since you've had a tumultuous day, you can head home." I also reminded him that, even though I was 25 years younger than him, I had knowledge and training that he did not. So I asked in a rather serious tone: "Are you prepared to do as I ask so we can accurately get a true sense of your health?"
—————————————
Without hesitation Joe responded: "Yes! Now what's first Doc?"
I have to admit that I liked hearing him call me "Doc" and I also liked the fact that he was going to follow my directions. Now, I thought, remain calm, professional and focused. Soon all would be revealed.
I told Joe that since he had had a long day at work it might be best if he took a shower as it would help him relax. I smiled and said that I also preferred examining a clean body.
Joe blushed at that comment but he immediately went to the locker he maintained, opened it and began to undress. As much as I would have enjoyed watching the "show" I told him I was going to go back to the desk to finish up my paper work and I would return shortly.
I returned to my desk and heard the water in the gang shower room turn on. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine those broad shoulders and his magnificent buttocks as the water rained down on them. What kind of penis was attached to that physique I wondered? Would I be surprised by its size? I reminded myself to take a breath, focus and remain calm.
After a few minutes I heard the water turn off. I waited another minute or two and then I reentered the locker room. My timing was perfect because as I did, Joe emerged with his damp towel wrapped securely around his waist. I smiled and took note of his hairy chest. I wasn't surprised because I had always been able to see that rich black hair peeking out from the unbuttoned top button of his shirt.
As I walked past him to the counter where my clipboard and pen were Joe asked: "I guess I'm not sure what I should do. Should I get dressed?"
I avoided giving a direct answer by instead saying: "Let's get your height and weight first. Take a walk over to the scale."
Joe walked over to the scale and began to step onto the platform when I stopped him. "Seriously?" I inquired. "Don't you think that a wet towel might skew the accuracy of the scale?"
He looked at me but said nothing because he just didn't know what to do. His clear indecision emboldened me and I knew exactly how I should proceed. So, before he could raise any objections, I said: "Take that wet towel off, hang it up on a hook and then step onto the scale."
For a moment I thought that he might refuse but apparently he remembered his pledge to me because he undid the towel and walked over to the wall to hang it up.
There he was. Finally, naked and an absolutely perfect specimen of masculinity. He walked back to where I was standing by the scale and, without gawking, I took inventory of his torso.
There was that bit of a belly that he had alluded to in the past. And below it swung his penis and testicles. The penis was circumcised and of average length but he testicles were quite sizeable.
As he stepped up onto the scale I moved behind him to give him some room. My eyes almost bulged out at the sight of his magnificent ass. Firm, round and basically smooth with the lightest of hair running down the crack is my best description.
I collected my composure and adjusted the height bar. "6' 1/2" I said. "Now let's see how kind the scale is for you."
"Scales never seem to like me." responded Joe. "I'm considering just closing my eyes so I do not have to see the number."
With my clipboard I playfully smacked him lightly on his very bare bottom. "The scale never lies." I reminded him as I adjusted the bar.
"213 pounds on the nose." I chimed. "In fact, Joe, your estimate from the other night was fairly close. OK, mister, we are done with the scale and I have recorded your height and weight on your chart."
As Joe moved off of the scale I began reading over some of the other information that we needed to collect. I went back to the counter and grabbed my tape measure. As I approached the very naked Joe he started to stutter and stammer something but I just could not understand him.
"OK," I said "Lift those big, strong arms of yours so I can measure your chest."
Joe started to comply but as I lifted the tape measure he put his arms back down and said: "Listen, Kevin, can I just put on my briefs or some shorts. I understood about the wet towel but I'm feeling a bit exposed at the moment."
"Oh, you are not nearly as exposed as you are going to soon be." I silently thought. However, I didn't want him to bolt just yet and I knew that as my plan unfolded he would soon be out of whatever garb he decided to put on. I lowered the tape measure, smiled at Joe's blushing face and told him to go put on his clean underwear.
As Joe walked to his locker on the other side of the locker room I once again marveled at the strength and beauty of his muscular legs and buttocks. How I wanted to place my hands on them, squeeze them and perhaps spread them wide. But not yet. Soon.
While at his locker Joe was able to locate a clean pair of briefs in his gym bag. Once found he carefully yet quickly put them on. I could feel his sense of relief all the way across the room. He closed the locker door and rejoined me over by the training table where I could continue with his measurements.
Soon I was cheerfully wrapping the measuring tape around various parts of his body while I engaged him in small talk to help relax him and further gain his confidence. First I measured his chest, then waist and hips. When I completed and recorded those measurements I instructed him to spread his legs a bit so I might measure his thighs and calves.
Joe did as I instructed without objection and I took the opportunity to compliment him on his muscular legs. Clearly his years of running had contributed to those beauties. Then I told him to turn around so I might measure his shoulders. With his back to me I was once again afforded the sight of his beautiful ass but this time is was encased in the white cotton of his Hanes briefs.
Seeing just how far I might go I playfully snapped the waistband of his crisp white briefs and asked if they were new. Joe chuckled and he told me that he had just recently bought a few new pair as he had apparently purged the old and faded ones from his underwear drawer.
I also took the opportunity to ask about the tightness and soreness in his lower back and left hip that he had told me about some time ago. As I spoke I crouched down and pressed my fingers along his left hip, just above the leg band of his shorts. He started to tell me that it was still a bit tight and I could feel some knots as my fingers worked their way up his hip. Suddenly he jerked his body a bit and moved away from me.
"I'm sorry" I said. "Did I hurt you?"
He turned to face me and grimace a bit. "I guess you hit a tender spot."
"OK. Now that is something we can address in just a bit. But first let's get your blood pressure and pulse."
I instructed Joe to go and sit on the table. He did as I asked and I first brought over the blood pressure cuff. As I situated the cuff on his arm I felt close enough to enjoy his masculine scent. He smelled clean and fresh from the shower and I also sensed that he was becoming more comfortable with the examination.
"Are you feeling a bit more confident and relaxed?" I inquired.
"Yes." he replied. "Clearly you know what you are doing and I am grateful that you want to make certain that my health is good. After all, I hope to have many more years ahead of me."
I smiled at him and reminded him to relax as I increased the pressure of the cuff. It was also reassuring to hear that his confidence in my skills was increasing because in a few minutes that would prove to be of the utmost importance.
Joe's blood pressure was excellent and he beamed at the news. Next I placed a sterilized thermometer in his mouth and checked his pulse. After a minute or two I recorded the numbers for the blood pressure and pulse and then returned to the table to remove the thermometer from his mouth. I looked at it for several long seconds without saying anything.
"Is it OK?" he questioned.
"Well, for some reason it seems a bit low. But oral thermometers are notoriously unreliable. However, I'll mark it in the chart as I read it."
"Should you just try it again?" asked Joe.
"Not right now." I answered as I placed the thermometer in a small glass of alcohol. Success! The seeds of doubt had been sown and in a few minutes I would most assuredly check his temperature again.
"What next? said Joe as he smiled at me.
"Well, let's see if we can free up that problem sciatic nerve on your left side." I went over to the counter by the sink and placed down my clip board. "Can I have you lay down on the table on your stomach?" I continued.
Joe chuckled and said: "OK, I see. You're changing hats now and putting on your massage therapist hat."
"Absolutely!" I laughed as I washed my hands in the sink.
When I has finished washing up Joe was already in place on the table. I brought over a small pillow for him to rest his head and then I moved to the side of the table. For an intoxicating moment I simply studied his beautiful body as he lay there.
The strong shoulders and muscular back gave way to a nice tapering toward his waist and from there it launched into those two wonderful melons that were now encased in his cotton briefs.
Placing my right hand on his left butt cheek I began to use the fingers of my left hand to explore the tender area. I soon hit the "spot" again because Joe flinched and turned his head a bit to look at me.
"Try and relax" I reminded him. I kept up the procedure, from time to time repositioning my right hand where I was enjoying the firmness of his muscular ass. As I worked on his sciatic nerve I could feel his body tense up. Finally, I stopped and walked to the counter where I had a bottle of high grade massage oil.
Returning to the table, oil in hand, I once again reassured Joe that I could bring some relief to his sciatic nerve. In addition I reminded him that this was a common problem with many runners and, with some proper stretching techniques, he could keep the pain at bay.
But, before opening the bottle of oil, I knew that it was time to take the next step. With my hand on Joe's lower back and my fingertips lightly grazing the elastic band of his Hanes briefs I said: "You're wearing brand new shorts and I do not want to get oil on them as it can be difficult to get out in the wash. So, let's just slip these off."
Before he could respond I had slid the shorts down in the back. I heard an inaudible grunt emanate from his mouth but he did not protest when I asked him to raise his hips a bit so I could complete the task. With his clean, white Hanes briefs in my hand I walked triumphantly to his opened locker and hung them on the door so they might be on display for me to view.
I returned to the table and opened the oil. Applying some to my hands I began to work on his left hip. As I massaged his hip I took in the breathtaking sight of his gorgeous, muscular ass. "Relax" I reminded him as my hands worked their way towards his meaty glutes.
As I silently worked I glanced at Joe's face. His head was on the pillow, facing to the left and I could see that his eyes were closed. "That feels great, Kevin" he murmured. I smiled to myself and silently continued my work.
Now I had reached a delicate moment and I knew that I must proceed cautiously yet resolutely so Joe understood that I was both knowledgeable as well as in charge of the situation. I slowed my motions down and then quietly said "This might be an opportune time for us to do that follow up."
I walked to the counter, picked up my clipboard, flipped a page and pretended to study it for a moment. Then, setting the clipboard down I gathered the tube of KY lubricant and the rectal thermometer. As I returned to the table I marveled at the fact that the oral thermometer was clearly smaller and more slender. Would Joe notice the difference?
In a relaxed state and with his eyes only partially opened Joe asked: "What follow up do you need to do?"
"I need to record your core temperature for the chart." I responded. "Remember, the oral reading seemed a bit on the low side but core temperatures always give us a more complete picture."
At first this new information did not seem to register with my naked patient but then he clearly began to piece the puzzle together as he raised his head a bit and repeated: "Core temperature? You mean...back THERE??"
I ignored his question and instead uncapped the tube of KY. As I did so I calmly told him that most physicians agreed that core temperature was the ideal way to measure a body's temperature. Joe started to lift himself a bit on the table but I merely put my hands on his back and shoulders in an effort to reassure him.
"Relax." I chuckled. "It doesn't hurt and I need the information to fill out your chart."
Joe wanted to object but he seemed to be having trouble forming the words. All he could muster was: "But...I mean...Kevin...it's just that..."
I took advantage of his indecision to reposition my hands. Each one now rested on each of his manly ass cheeks. As Kevin lowered himself back into his position on the table I gently parted his beautiful buns.
My eyes immediately focused on the small pink rosebud that was Joe's anus. It was as if I were viewing a magnificent work of art for the first time. Had it ever been penetrated before? Perhaps a finger? Somehow, from what I knew of Joe, I doubted that even he had ever done any type of exploration. MY gaze went a bit further down an I was treated to the sight of his very large testicles. Impressive indeed!
As I released the buttocks to their original position I glanced over at Joe but he did not see me because his face was pressed down on the small pillow. Clearly he was embarrassed and, for some reason, that both excited me and gave me the determination to continue.
"This is embarrassing...and...I just didn't...I mean..." were the words that came from Joe in a quiet and muffled tone.
As I applied a small amount of the KY lubricant to my right index finger I reassured Joe that the procedure was both important and necessary. I also dismissed his embarrassment with a chuckle reminding him that we were both males and I had enough medical background to know what I was doing. Joe turned his head to the side but avoided my gaze and simply laid quietly on the table awaiting the inevitable.
With my left index finger and thumb I skillfully parted his plumb ass cheeks until his backdoor was in view. I then applied the KY to his anus. I rubbed the area gently and then, slowly, allowing my finger to penetrate just a bit.
Joe reacted by suddenly clenching his anus as if in an attempt to deny my entering the forbidden zone. I gave him a light smack on his right cheek and commanded "Relax, Joe! I'm not going to hurt you." After several tense seconds the sphincter relaxed and I completed the lubrication.
Next, I prepared the tip of the thermometer with a small amount of KY. As I did so Joe, in a quiet voice, said: "You're right. I don't even feel it in me."
Laughing aloud I said: "That's because it isn't in yet." I once again parted his cheeks and placed the lubricated thermometer at the tip of his anus. "Take a deep breath," I instructed. As he began to exhale I inserted the tip of the thermometer. Joe's body moved a bit on the table. "Hold still, Joe," I commanded. He did as I told him and the thermometer disappeared into his clean, tight rectum.
When I removed my hand and Joe's cheeks resumed their usual position I was amazed to see that the top of the thermometer was barely in view. Had I put it in too far? Or was it that his plumb, meaty cheeks just covered it all up?
Joe, eyes closed, lay quietly on the table. I imagine that he felt a bit confused and perhaps even a sense of defeat in the knowledge that he had failed at stopping me from seeing and touching the most private and intimate area of his body.
As the thermometer did its work (I told Joe it needed a minimum of five minutes) I resumed the massage I had begun on him some minutes before. I worked steadily on his lower back and left hip, allowing my hands to glide gently over his buttocks being also careful to not disturb the thermometer nestled deep inside his cheeks. From time to time there was a muffled sound of pleasure and at one point, without even opening his eyes, he told me how wonderful my hands felt.
Ten minutes had passed and I decided that had been ample time for an accurate reading of the core temperature. With one hand resting on his plump melons, I gently withdrew the thermometer from Joe's backside and, with a warm washcloth, carefully cleaned the KY from his tender backdoor.
As I studied the thermometer I noticed that Joe carefully placed a hand underneath his crotch area, fidgeted a bit and then withdrew the hand. Could he have popped a boner and was he trying to make himself more comfortable?
"Yep, just as I thought" I said with a degree of self assurance. "Your core temperature is almost two degrees higher that what we saw on the oral thermometer."
"Oh...Ok," was all the response I received as he continued to fidget on the table.
Hoping I might be treated to a view of his erect penis I patted his butt and said: "Ok, Joe, hop off of the table for me."
Slowly, Joe got up and off the table. I pretended to study the chart as he stood up but, and only for an instant, I was able to take note of the fact that he was almost fully erect. He quickly turned his back to me and immediately headed to the locker door where his briefs were hanging. Grabbing them he put them on.
Without turning to look at me Joe inquired if I was done collecting the necessary data for his health profile. I didn't answer for a moment as I wanted to add to the suspense. However, I still had one final test to perform.
Because his question was met with silence Joe assumed that we were finished and reached inside his locker to grab his jeans. However, before he could even put one leg into them I said: "Ah, your age. Your age!"
Joe turned his head and looked at me but clearly not comprehending. "Prostate cancer is a big problem for men in this country," I stated with a tone of seriousness. "Plus," I continued, you are at the age where you should be screened."
Standing there, holding his pants, Joe was speechless. I walked over to the table, patted it and said: "Com'on over here and I can check your prostate."
Joe was frozen in place. "It's extremely important," I said with a bit of a stern look on my face. "And," I continued, "I suspect that you have not yet had it done. Correct?"
Before he could even respond I said: "OK, over here and let's get this done."
Slowly, Joe placed his jeans back inside the locker and walked over to the table where I was waiting for him. Once he arrived I went back to the counter and grabbed the tube of KY and a plastic medical glove. I returned to the table and placed the items on the bench near the table.
With a hand on each shoulder I turned Joe so that he was facing the table. "Is...I mean...Uh...will this hurt?" he asked in an almost hushed tone.
"A bit uncomfortable, yes" I replied. "But I will not hurt you. It's a very safe and highly effective test."
Standing directly behind him I was once again taken by the beauty of his body especially his wonderful ass encased within the confines of his white Hanes briefs. Placing a hand on each hip I instructed him to stand close to the edge of the table.
As I spoke I moved my fingers until my thumbs were inside the elastic waistband of his new briefs. And then, without an announcement of any kind I lowered his shorts until they were past his knees.
"Can't perform this test with these in the way." I said with an almost cheerful voice. "Now, bend over and put your chest on the table."
As he bent over the table I crouched down behind him and, placing one hand on each of his perfect melons, I gently parted them giving me once again another view of his vulnerable little rosebud. As I inspected the place that would soon be penetrated I said: "It's important that you concentrate on your breathing, keep your legs spread and relax."
—————————————-
Joe said nothing. I released his butt cheeks and then studied the position of his lowered jockey shorts. Clearly they would hinder his leg movements so I said: "You'll be more comfortable without these in the way." As I spoke I pulled the briefs down to his ankles and removed them. However, this time I placed them on the bench behind me.
I then placed the thin glove on my right hand and opened the bottle of KY lubricant. "Legs apart." I instructed. Silently Joe spread his legs. His large testicles and partially erect penis now swung freely between his thick, muscular legs. With my gloved finger I placed a generous amount of the lubricant directly to his anus. He gasped. "Relax." I commanded.
With the fingers of my left hand I parted Joe's firm cheeks and placed my gloved and lubricated finger at the tip of his backdoor. As I did so I saw him grip the table and tense up his back. "Try and relax," I reminded him.
My heart was pounding and I told myself to focus on the procedure. I had been struggling all night to keep my arousal at bay and this would be the ultimate test. "Now, Joe, you are going to feel a bit of pressure." He didn't move or respond. "Now," I instructed, "take in a deep breath and hold it." I heard him inhale. "Exhale" I said as I pushed in the tip of my finger.
His anus gave way and I was in up to my first knuckle. Suddenly he gripped down hard and I thought he might break my finger. "Relax" I said in a far more demanding voice. He adjusted and my finger proceeded in a bit more. I heard a muffled grunt and then with a bit more effort I pushed my finger in to the hilt.
Joe raised his head and gasped. "Arghh...Kevin." he squealed in a voice almost an octave higher. I pressed against his prostate gland and announced triumphantly: "There it is, Joe. There is your prostate."
I withdrew my finger a bit and then pressed in again. Joe lowered his face to the table. His eyes were closed. As I was about to press in on the gland a second time, I glanced down and saw an amazing sight. Joe was now fully erect. I took note that he was of admirable size and very rigid. "It appears that your blood flow and circulation are both top notch," I said.
"Damn, Kevin. I'm...I'm sorry. I mean I didn't mean..."
"Don't be embarrassed, Joe," I said as I held his erection in the palm of my left hand. "This is a sign that you are quite healthy."
I removed my hand from his rock hard penis but could not help but notice that it was dripping with pre-cum. "We're almost finished," I said. I then partially withdrew my finger from it's tight confinement and plunged it in one more time connecting with his prostate. But this was just too much for the aroused Joe.
His body shook as he raised his head and yelped. Suddenly he lunged forward on the table and I watched as his erection shot out ribbons of semen. His body continued to shake as he held the table tightly. And then, as soon as it seemed to have begun, it came to an end.
I slowly and gently withdrew my finger from his bare backside and took off the soiled glove. I rubbed his bare and sweaty back and asked if he was OK. He was silent for a moment and then, with his eyes still closed, he repeated his apology. "I'm so embarrassed, Kevin. I had no idea I would react like that."
"Listen, Joe," I said in as consoling a voice as I could muster. "What just occurred is actually not so uncommon," I lied. "Your prostate is small but very powerful. The good news is that all of your plumbing is in perfect working order."
Slowly, Joe stood up but kept his hands on the table. He turned his head a bit to look at me and I saw that his face was covered in sweat. I could not get a read on his emotions, however. Was he angry? Perhaps he was happy. Either way he was definitely spent!
I patted him on the shoulders and asked if he might like to clean up a bit in the shower before getting dressed. He nodded yes and I cautioned him to make certain that he did not feel dizzy before moving.
I began the process of packing up my instruments. As I did so, Joe walked slowly to the shower room. I watched as his beautiful naked body disappeared into the room and I heard the water come on.
Pausing my packing up process, I retrieved the mop and bucket from the janitorial closet and cleaned up the mess that Joe had deposited on the floor. Doing so while he was showering would help alleviate some of the obvious embarrassment he was surely feeling. I smiled to myself as I mopped. Yes, he is definitely a healthy fellow I mused.
No sooner than I had put the mop and bucket away I heard the water in the shower room turn off. I grabbed a clean towel from the stack and strolled over to the shower room entrance. Joe was facing the wall with his head slightly bent and his gaze was towards the floor. Not wanting to startle him I spoke softly: "Here's a towel for you."
"Thank you" he said as I disappeared to finally offer him some needed quiet time.
While Joe toweled off and dressed I brought his paper work to the office out in the lobby to make a copy. I stayed there for a few minutes as I suspected that the embarrassed (humiliated?) Joe just might require a bit of privacy.
When he finally emerged I greeted him with a smile and asked how he was feeling. He indicated that he was somewhat tired and glad that he was headed home. I handed him a folder and mentioned that I had made a copy of all of the paperwork with his measurements, readings, etc. along with my own personal notes. Now he would have his own copy and one to give to a doctor when he finally selected one.
"Kevin," he began in a soft voice. Sensing what was on his mind I interrupted him and said: "Joe, what happened was your body simply reacting to pressure on the prostate. There is absolutely no need to apologize. However, I probably should have warned you that you might become aroused. It is totally natural."
Seeing that he was still a bit uneasy I continued with some more words of reassurance. "Look at it this way," I said. "Perhaps it was better that you had that experience here, in the privacy of the locker room and not in a doctor's office."
Joe seemed to ponder my last statement and finally he nodded his head in agreement. Without speaking he began to walk toward the exit door but then stopped. He turned, looked at the folder I had given him and then looked at me.
With a faint smile he said: "Thank you, Kevin. I appreciate the time you took to check my stats and see to it that I am healthy. I promise that I will look for a regular doctor and follow your advice on staying healthy. After all, I do have a few years ahead of me."
"You have plenty of years ahead of you," I said. "Now go home and get a good night's sleep."
Joe smiled and walked toward the door.
I watched as his beautiful physique disappeared out the door. What an evening, I thought! And I realized that I had a bit of a mystery on my hands. I tried to refocus my thoughts so I could close up and go home but I kept coming back to the same thought: just how much of that exam did Joe actually enjoy?
I wondered...someday might I be able to use the tool between my legs to check his prostate? Maybe. Perhaps someday?
What I wouldn't give for some deep compressions like this...
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After a grueling day at work, HuángLóng just wanted to relax on his bed. Instead, a sudden, blinding chest pain knocks him completely unconscious. Luckily, TíngHuī is there to spring into action with life-saving CPR!
However just when HuángLóng opens his eyes and thinks the worst is over, TíngHuī brings out the AED shocks to "stabilize" his heart. Big mistake. One shock later, HuángLóng is out cold again, forcing TíngHuī back into a frantic race against time.
Will HuángLóng ever fully wake up, or is he trapped in an endless loop of emergency rescues? Watch until the very end to find out!
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Maybe we can play too.

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Most humans wouldn't bother with a drowned fairy, so Cypress should probably count his blessings when he finally comes back around.
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i'm not immune to these two's weird energy
The Lazarus Protocol
[Medical Horror, Body Horror, Cardiac Arrest, CPR, Defibrillation, Mechanical Objectification, Loss of Bodily Autonomy, Nudity, Incontinence, Needles, Medical Fetish Themes, Death, Human Experimentation, Torture]
Chapter 1: The Flutter
Elena’s world had shrunk to the size of a twin bed and the rhythmic beep-beep-beep of the cardiac monitor. She was twenty-three, a dancer with legs of steel and a heart that was slowly turning into mush. Viral myocarditis. A common cold that had decided to eat her heart muscle.
She lay in the standard ICU bed, propped up at forty-five degrees. She was sweating, a cold, clammy sheen that made her hospital gown stick to her chest. The air conditioning in the unit was set to arctic, but Elena was burning up from the inside.
[SYSTEM MONITOR: STANDARD ICU TELEMETRY]
[HEART RATE: 135 BPM - TACHYCARDIC]
[O2 SATURATION: 88% ON 4L NC]
[BP: 85/50 - HYPOTENSIVE]
She closed her eyes, trying to visualize a pirouette, but all she could feel was the flutter. It felt like a trapped bird in her chest, beating its wings against her ribs. It wasn't a steady beat anymore. It was a jagged, frantic vibration. Thump-thump-flutter-thump.
"Nurse?" she whispered. Her voice was weak, breathless.
Nurse Mara appeared. She checked the lines. Elena was already hooked up to a central line in her neck, a triple-lumen catheter stitched into her jugular.
"I feel... weird," Elena gasped. "Like... dropping."
"Your heart is working very hard, Elena," Mara said, her voice professional but tight. She increased the flow on the nasal cannula. The dry oxygen hissed louder into Elena’s nose. "Try to relax. Let the dobutamine do its work."
But the drug wasn't working. Elena could feel the blood pooling in her lungs. Every breath was a struggle against a rising tide of pink foam. She coughed, a wet, hacking sound, and tasted copper.
She looked down at her body. Her legs, usually defined and strong, were swollen with edema. Her nail beds were a dusky blue. She felt heavy, like she was sinking into the mattress.
The monitor above her head flashed yellow.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
"V-Tach run," Mara muttered, hitting a button on the wall. "Dr. Vance to Bed 8."
Elena gripped the side rails. The flutter became a kick. Her vision grayed out at the edges. The room—the sterile white tiles, the bag of saline, Mara’s face—began to tunnel.
She let out a low moan, involuntary and guttural. It was the sound of the engine failing.
"I'm... going..." she whispered.
And then, the flutter stopped. The kick stopped.
Everything stopped.
Chapter 2: The Crash
The silence lasted for a second. Then, the alarm screamed.
BONG. BONG. BONG.
A red bar flashed across the top of the monitor.
[ALARM: V-FIB / ASYSTOLE]
Elena’s eyes rolled back, showing only the whites. Her head lolled to the side, her blonde hair spilling over the pillow. Her mouth fell open, slack.
"Code Blue!" Mara yelled, dropping the bed rails. "She's out!"
Dr. Vance stormed in. He was a tall, skeletal man who looked more like a technician than a healer.
"Start compressions," he ordered.
Mara climbed onto a step stool. She placed her hands on Elena’s chest, right over the sternum.
Crack.
The first compression was messy. Elena’s body jerked under the force.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Mara pumped hard. Elena’s breasts jiggled violently with each thrust. Her gown tore at the shoulder.
"Get the pads!"
A second nurse slapped the defibrillator pads onto Elena’s sweat-slicked skin. One on the upper right, one on the ribs.
"Charging to 200."
The capacitor whined. Eeeeeeeeeeee.
"Clear!"
Mara jumped back.
THUMP.
Elena arched. Her back bowed off the mattress, her toes curling in a final, galvanic reflex. She slammed back down, dead weight.
"Resume."
Dr. Vance watched the monitor.
"Still V-Fib. Refractory. She's not holding a pressure."
He looked at Elena. She was thrashing with the compressions, her head bouncing, foam gathering at her lips. It was chaotic. Inefficient. Human.
"Bag her," Vance ordered.
Respiratory grabbed the BVM. They clamped the mask over Elena’s face.
Squeeze.
Her chest rose unevenly.
"She's vomiting," Respiratory said. "Aspiration risk."
Pink froth bubbled up around the mask.
"Suction! Get that airway clear!"
Vance looked at the clock. Five minutes down.
"We get her back, we move her," Vance said coldly. "She's burning through her reserves. This bed can't handle her."
"Move her where?" Mara panted, sweating from the CPR.
"The A.R.C. Unit. She qualifies. She’s young, lean, salvageable anatomy. But her pump is broken."
They pushed Epi. They pushed Amio.
"Shocking again. Clear!"
THUMP.
Elena arched. Her body was limp, pliable, abused.
Vance checked the pulse.
"I have a thready pulse. She's back. But she won't stay."
Elena lay there, unconscious, intubated now, a plastic tube taped to her face. Her chest heaved.
[SYSTEM ALERT: ROSC ACHIEVED]
[HEMODYNAMIC STATUS: UNSTABLE]
[PROGNOSIS: POOR]
"Get the transport team," Vance said. "Prep the Lazarus bed. We're moving her to Room 1."
Chapter 3: The Black Room
The transfer was a blur of motion. They bagged her manually as they ran down the hall. Squeeze. Release. Squeeze. Release.
Elena was stripped of her gown, covered only by a sheet.
They reached Room 1.
It didn't look like a hospital room. It looked like a server farm. The walls were black, lined with sound-dampening foam. The air was freezing, kept at a constant 60 degrees to protect the equipment.
In the center of the room sat the beast.
The A.R.C. Mk-IV "Lazarus."
It was chrome and matte black. It looked less like a bed and more like an industrial press. The mattress was black, slick, and shiny. Massive rails ran along the sides. A gantry arched over the head.
[A.R.C. SYSTEM STATUS: STANDBY]
[MATTRESS: FLUID MODE]
[TEMP: 22°C]
[COMPRESSOR: ARMED]
"Transfer on three," Vance ordered.
They lifted Elena’s limp, naked body. The sheet fell away.
She landed on the black mattress. It squished softly, the non-Newtonian fluid yielding to her weight.
She looked small on the machine. Her pale skin was stark against the black materials.
"Hook her up. Fast," Vance commanded. "She's going to code again any second."
Nurse Mara moved quickly. This was a different protocol.
There were no EKG stickers.
Mara grabbed the biometric cuffs from the side of the bed. They were lined with grey fleece but housed heavy electromagnets.
She snapped one around Elena’s right wrist. Click.
Left wrist. Click.
Ankles. Click. Click.
The cuffs were connected to the bed frame by thick, coiled cables.
"Biometrics syncing," Mara said.
A screen embedded in the wall flickered to life.
[SUBJECT DETECTED: FEMALE, 60KG]
[CONNECTING TO BIOSENSORS...]
[RHYTHM: SINUS TACHYCARDIA (140)]
[BP: 70/40]
Vance moved to the head of the bed. He removed the standard hospital pillow.
He guided Elena’s head into the "Head Vise."
It was a U-shaped cradle padded with gel.
"Locking cranial stabilizer," Vance said. He turned a dial.
The sides of the vise moved in, clamping firmly against Elena’s temples and the base of her skull. Her head was now immovable.
The ventilator tubing she arrived with was disconnected.
"Deploying Auto-Mask."
A robotic arm descended from the gantry above her head. It held a rigid, clear plastic face mask with a thick black rubber seal.
It lowered over her face, covering her nose and mouth, encompassing the endotracheal tube stub.
HISS-CLICK.
It pressed down with 5 PSI. It sealed perfectly to her cheeks.
Elena was now part of the machine.
Chapter 4: Packaging
"Strip her," Vance said. "The sensors need skin contact."
She was already naked, but they removed the remaining debris of the previous code. The old EKG sticky pads were ripped off. The ID bracelet was cut.
Elena lay spread-eagle, held by the wrist and ankle cuffs.
She was completely exposed. Her breasts rose and fell with the mechanical breath of the Auto-Mask. Her pubic bone was prominent, her stomach concave.
The room was clinical, devoid of modesty.
"Engage waste management," Vance ordered.
Mara moved to the foot of the bed. She separated Elena’s legs.
The mattress had a contoured depression in the center.
Mara inserted a heavy-gauge Foley catheter into Elena. The tube didn't go to a bag; it plugged directly into a port in the mattress.
"Drainage active."
A rectal tube was inserted next. Plugged into the mattress.
Elena was now plumbed.
Anything that came out of her would be sucked into the chassis of the bed.
[SYSTEM CHECK: FLUID LEVELS OK]
[WASTE MANAGEMENT: ACTIVE]
[CONDUCTIVE GEL: LOADED]
"Prepare the Shock System," Vance said.
The side rails of the bed hummed.
Two metal panels, hidden flush within the rails, slid open.
Curved, chrome paddles emerged. They looked like the jaws of a giant insect.
"Test cycle."
The paddles swung inward, stopping just inches from Elena’s ribs.
Whirrrr-Click.
They retracted.
"LUCAS Rail active."
Above Elena’s chest, the chrome arch hummed. The piston—a cylinder of clear plastic and steel—lowered until the suction cup hovered a millimeter above her sternum.
The laser mapping grid projected a red web over her breasts, calculating the exact center of compression.
[TARGET ACQUIRED: STERNUM]
[COMPRESSION DEPTH SET: 2.5 INCHES]
[FORCE: 100LBS]
Elena was packaged. She was no longer a patient in a bed. She was a component in a circuit.
"Arm the system," Vance said.
Mara typed a code into the console.
[A.R.C. PROTOCOL: ARMED]
[MODE: AUTOMATIC]
[TRIGGER: ASYSTOLE / VF / VT]
"Now we wait," Vance said. "It won't be long."
Chapter 5: The First Cycle
It took ten minutes.
Elena was unconscious, sedated by the remnants of the code drugs, but her heart was giving up. The viral damage was too extensive.
The monitor on the wall fluttered.
[WARNING: RHYTHM INSTABILITY]
[PRE-ARREST DETECTED]
The sinus rhythm dissolved into a chaotic squiggle.
[EVENT: VENTRICULAR FIBRILLATION]
The machine didn't panic. It didn't yell for help. It simply reacted.
[INITIATING PROTOCOL: LAZARUS]
Step 1: Hardening.
A loud CRACK echoed as an electrical charge hit the non-Newtonian fluid in the mattress.
Instantly, the soft black surface turned to stone. Elena’s body was pushed up, her spine straightened against the hard surface.
Step 2: Lockdown.
CLACK-CLACK.
The magnets in the wrist and ankle cuffs engaged. Elena’s limbs were snapped down to the mattress, pinned flat.
A wide black nylon strap shot out from the hip section, zipped across her pelvis, and tightened. ZZZZIP.
She was immobile.
Step 3: Compressions.
The piston descended.
THUMP.
It hit her chest. Hard.
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.
It moved at exactly 100 beats per minute.
Elena’s body jerked with every impact. Her breasts deformed under the pressure. The suction cup pulled her chest up on the upstroke, actively decompressing the heart to suck blood in, then smashed it down to pump blood out.
It was violent. It was rhythmic. It was mechanical.
Step 4: Ventilation.
The Auto-Mask hissed.
WHOOSH.
Every ten compressions, a blast of 100% oxygen was forced into her lungs.
The machine didn't pause compressions for the breath. It just forced the air past the pressure.
Step 5: Shock.
[ANALYZING...]
The piston paused at the top of its stroke.
[SHOCK ADVISED]
The side rails hissed.
PSSSHHT.
Jets of cold blue conductive gel sprayed onto Elena’s right shoulder and left ribs.
The chrome paddles swung in.
CLAMP.
They squeezed her torso, biting into her skin to ensure contact.
The bed emitted a sound like a jet engine spinning up.
WHIIIIIIINE.
[DISCHARGING]
ZAP.
Elena’s body arched against the restraints. The magnets held her wrists down, but her back bowed, straining against the hip strap.
The machine didn't care.
The paddles retracted.
The piston slammed back down.
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.
Vance watched from the window. He didn't lift a finger.
"Perfect execution," he murmured.
Chapter 6: The Loop
Elena was trapped in a storm.
The viral myocarditis had created an electrical feedback loop in her heart. She wasn't staying in a stable rhythm.
The A.R.C. unit settled into a relentless cycle.
[EVENT LOG: 14:02 - VF DETECTED]
[ACTION: SHOCK 200J - FAILED]
[ACTION: CPR CYCLE 2]
[ACTION: SHOCK 300J - FAILED]
[ACTION: CPR CYCLE 3]
The piston was a blur. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.
Elena’s chest was turning red, then bruising purple under the assault. The cartilage of her ribs had long since separated. Now, the machine was grinding the bone ends together.
She was entirely passive. A naked, beautiful doll being abused by a robot.
Her head vibrated in the vise with every compression. Her blonde hair, damp with sweat, shook.
The Auto-Mask fogged and cleared. Hiss-Click.
[ALERT: PERFUSION DROPPING]
[INITIATING DRUG PROTOCOL]
The drug carousel at the foot of the bed spun.
It selected a syringe of Epinephrine.
It aligned with the IV line connected to the bed's manifold.
CLICK-HISSS.
The drug was injected automatically into her central line.
The machine circulated it.
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.
Vance watched the telemetry.
"She's refractory. The machine is going to run all night."
And it did.
For three hours, the A.R.C. kept Elena in a state of suspended animation.
She would flatline. The machine would pump.
She would fib. The machine would shock.
She would get a pulse for ten seconds. The machine would pause, hovering, listening.
Then her heart would flutter.
[RE-ARREST DETECTED]
And the piston would slam down again.
It was lewd in its intimacy. The machine touched her everywhere. It breathed for her. It beat for her. It held her down.
It owned her.
Chapter 7: The Maintenance
At 18:00, the machine paused.
[RHYTHM: SINUS BRADYCARDIA (40 BPM)]
[STATUS: STABLE (CRITICAL)]
Elena had a pulse. It was weak, fueled by chemistry and trauma, but it was there.
The bed softened. The mattress returned to fluid mode.
The paddles retracted into the rails.
The piston retracted into the gantry, hanging like a sword of Damocles.
Nurse Mara entered the room to service the unit. Not the patient. The unit.
"Waste tank is at 40%," Mara noted.
She checked the clear tubes running from the mattress.
Urine and blood (from the rectal tube, likely stress ulcers) swirled into the dark tank beneath the bed.
Elena lay still. She was pale, waxy. The bruising on her chest was horrific—a perfect circle where the suction cup hit, and rectangular burns on her sides from the paddles.
Mara wiped the conductive gel off Elena’s skin with a towel.
Elena didn't flinch.
Mara checked the feeding tube. The machine had been trickling a high-calorie slurry into her stomach even during the code.
"Refilling nutrient hopper," Mara said.
She poured a beige liquid into a funnel on the side of the bed.
It was industrialized care.
Elena was just biology being managed. Her dignity was gone. She was a wet, leaking, broken thing kept warm by the machine’s exhaust.
Mara smoothed Elena’s hair back. It was the only human touch Elena had felt in hours.
"You're still in there, aren't you?" Mara whispered.
[SYSTEM ALERT: HEART RATE DROPPING]
Mara stepped back.
"Not again."
Chapter 8: The Awakening
It happened during a lull.
The sedatives had run dry in the carousel, and the auto-refill hadn't triggered yet.
Elena’s brain stem, flushed with oxygenated blood from the aggressive CPR, flickered online.
She opened her eyes.
The room was black. The only light came from the LEDs on the gantry above her.
Red. Green. Amber.
She tried to take a breath.
She couldn't.
Something was clamped over her face. Hard plastic.
HISS.
A machine forced air into her.
She tried to move her head.
She couldn't. The vise held her skull in a grip of iron.
She tried to lift her hands.
CLACK.
Her wrists pulled against the magnets. She was pinned. Spread-eagle. Naked.
Panic flooded her.
She looked down. She could see her own chest.
It was purple, battered.
And hovering above it, like a monster, was the Piston.
She remembered the feeling. The crushing weight.
No, she screamed in her mind. No, no, no.
She thrashed against the restraints. Her hips bucked against the nylon strap.
The movement triggered the sensors.
[MOVEMENT DETECTED]
[HEART RATE: 160 - PANIC]
[WARNING: CATECHOLAMINE SURGE]
The sudden spike in adrenaline hit her damaged heart like a hammer.
She felt the flutter again. The bird in her chest dying.
Her vision tunneled.
She looked up at the piston.
It seemed to be watching her.
[RHYTHM: V-TACH]
[PROTOCOL: ENGAGE]
The mattress hardened instantly beneath her.
She felt her spine snap straight.
The voice of the machine spoke. A synthesized, calm male voice.
"Cardiac Event Detected. Relax. Treatment initiating."
Elena tried to scream into the mask.
The side panels opened. The paddles swung out.
She saw them coming.
NO!
WHIIIIINE.
ZAP.
The world exploded in white light.
She felt her soul get ripped out of her body, then slammed back in.
She blacked out before the piston came down.
Chapter 9: The Overdrive
The machine was getting aggressive.
Elena’s body was failing. The veins were collapsing.
[ERROR: IV ACCESS COMPROMISED]
[FLOW RATE: OBSTRUCTED]
The machine couldn't deliver the drugs.
It switched to contingency mode.
[INITIATING: AUTO-IO]
The leg section of the mattress hummed.
Two small panels opened beneath Elena’s shins.
Spring-loaded drivers aimed at her tibial plateaus.
SNAP-CRUNCH.
Two heavy-gauge needles shot up through the mattress, through the skin of her legs, and drilled directly into her shin bones.
If she had been awake, the pain would have been blinding.
But she was gone.
The machine flushed the lines.
[IO ACCESS: ESTABLISHED]
It dumped a massive dose of Epinephrine into her marrow.
[ARRESTS AVERTED: 14]
[TIME IN PROTOCOL: 12 HOURS]
The piston was moving faster now. 120 compressions per minute.
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.
It was a blur.
Elena’s body was vibrating. She was being shaken apart.
The friction from the suction cup was blistering her skin.
The mask was pressing so hard into her face it was leaving deep red indentations.
The machine was relentless. It would not let her die.
It kept pumping oxygenated blood to her brain, keeping the cells alive, keeping the horror fresh, even as her heart turned to stone.
It was a torture device disguised as a savior.
Chapter 10: The Results
24 hours.
Vance stood by the console.
[ARRESTS AVERTED: 42]
[CPR TIME: 18 HOURS]
[SHOCKS DELIVERED: 56]
Elena was still there.
She was pink. She was warm (thanks to the heating elements in the mattress). She was breathing (thanks to the Auto-Mask).
But looking at the monitor, the truth was clear.
[UNDERLYING RHYTHM: ASYSTOLE]
Every time the machine stopped, the line went flat.
There was no heart left. Just a bag of non-conductive muscle.
The A.R.C. unit was the only thing circulating her blood.
She was a closed loop. The machine pumped, the blood moved, the sensors read flow, the machine pumped.
Elena was gone.
She was just a fixture of the bed.
A naked, battered, tube-filled conduit for the machine's programming.
"Sir?" Mara asked quietly. "Do we abort?"
Vance looked at the data. It was fascinating. The perfusion was perfect. The kidneys were still producing urine. The brain stem reflexes were technically intact because of the constant flow.
It was the perfect resuscitation.
Except the patient was dead.
"Not yet," Vance said, watching the piston blur, watching Elena’s breasts deform, watching the machine work its dark magic.
"Let it run another hour. I want to see the limits of the IO flow."
The machine continued.
THUMP. HISS. WHINE. ZAP.
Elena’s body arched and fell, arched and fell.
She was the perfect patient.
She never complained. She never moved (except when shocked). She never asked for water.
She was finally, perfectly, integrated into the system.
[STATUS: OPERATIONAL]
[PATIENT: MAINTAINED]
[CYCLE: CONTINUOUS]
The Lazarus Bed hummed in the darkness, playing its violent rhythm on the empty vessel of the girl, forever.
Bundled
ANNA 💕
Pic from @digital02staff ❤️
Experiment on Kaori!
Request @hartdoc
You've recently run a flier for female volunteers for a medical experiment. It was quite dangerous, but you were prepared for that and had no fatalities. And it was going rather well, but you were beginning to notice that normal females were just giving the same results... But in another place, Kaori Kanzaki. With her fine physique. And a strong heartbeat. Decides to help with the experiment. However, she is unaware of the dangers of this experiment. How her heart could stop beating... How it would be restarted... How this isn't a normal experiment...

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The same video, this time in full resolution. The first version of the entire video with the real ECG recording and the patient's heartbeat is published on our manyvids account. The second version of the full video with the ECG recording that corresponds to the story will be published in two weeks.
manyvids.com/Video/6789818/collapse-of-a-male-patient-real-ecg