"Mr. Dexter, stay still—! Mrs. Nathalie, don't move—!" She reached out, her fingers hovering over Nathalie's trembling thighs, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "This—this isn't possible—! You need to relax—!"

I let out another pained groan, my body arching as if I were in agony. "D-Doctor, it hurts—!" I whimpered, my voice cracking.

"It's sucking me in—! I can't breathe—!" My cock pulsed inside Nathalie, and I let out a choked sob, my fingers digging into the table. "P-please, help me—!"

Nathalie's breath came in ragged gasps, her cheeks burning with humiliation as she played along.

"D-Doctor, he's trapped—!" she wailed, her voice trembling. "His cock—it's locked inside me—!" She squirmed again, her body still sensitive from her release, her liquid dripping onto the table.

Anya's hands trembled as she reached out, her fingers brushing against Nathalie's thigh. "Mrs. Nathalie, you need to push—!" she instructed, her voice trembling with a mix of professional urgency and something far more shameful. "Try to expel him—!"

Nathalie let out a desperate whimper, her body tensing as she pretended to push, her face contorted with a mix of embarrassment and faux effort. "I—I can't—!" she sobbed, her voice cracking as she squirmed beneath me.

"It's too deep—! It's hitting my womb—!" Her fingers clawed at the examination table, her breath hitching as my cock pulsed inside her again, her body trembling with the strain.

Then, in a moment of sheer humiliation, a loud, wet pffft echoed through the room.

Nathalie's face burned crimson. "N-no—!" she gasped, her eyes widening in horror as the embarrassing sound filled the silence.

"I—I didn't mean to—!" Her voice was thick with shame, her body freezing as if she wanted to disappear into the table.

Anya, who had been hovering nearby, her expression a mix of professional concern and something far more conflicted, seemed to snap into action.

"Let... me... help," she muttered, her voice tight with a mix of frustration and something else—arousal. She stepped forward, her hands reaching out to grasp Nathalie's hips. With a firm grip, she lifted Nathalie slightly, positioning her at an angle that would make it easier for me to slip out.

And then—PLOP.

My cock slid free with an obscene, wet sound, glistening with Nathalie's arousal and my own cum. The sudden release made Nathalie let out a choked gasp, her body sagging back against Anya's hands.

"Aaaah—!" she whimpered, her cheeks still burning with embarrassment as she covered her face with her hands.

Anya's breath hitched, her fingers still gripping Nathalie's hips, her own body trembling slightly. The room fell into a heavy, awkward silence, broken only by the sound of our ragged breathing. Anya's gaze flicked between Nathalie's flushed face and my cock, still half-hard and glistening with their combined fluids.

"Mrs. Nathalie," Anya said, her voice strained but trying to regain her professional composure, "are you alright?"

Nathalie nodded quickly, her voice muffled behind her hands, her cheeks still burning with embarrassment. "Y-yes, Doctor," she stammered, her fingers trembling as she finally lowered her hands, though she couldn't quite meet Anya's gaze. "I—I'm so sorry—"

Anya adjusted her glasses, her professional demeanor slowly slipping back into place, though her fingers still trembled slightly.

"Mr. Dexter has now calmed down," she said, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of something unreadable—frustration, curiosity, or perhaps even a hint of fascination.

She glanced at me, then back at Nathalie, her expression carefully neutral. "However, we didn't confirm our hypothesis. We still don't know whether actual penetration is necessary for relief, or if external stimulation alone would suffice."

I let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of my neck as if I were genuinely remorseful. "I'm really sorry, Doctor," I said, my voice laced with faux embarrassment.

"It's just... in that moment, I couldn't control myself. The pain was so intense, and then—" I hesitated, my eyes flickering to Nathalie before dropping to the floor. "I just... pushed it inside without thinking."

Anya exhaled slowly, her fingers tapping rhythmically against her clipboard. "It's alright, Mr. Dexter," she said, though her tone carried a hint of something more—something almost like intrigue.

"This is a medical matter, after all. We need to understand the root of the issue." She turned her attention to Nathalie, who was still clutching the tube of ointment like a lifeline.

"For now, the earlier prescription won't be necessary since it clearly wasn't effective. But Mrs. Nathalie, you'll need to apply this ointment to your swollen area twice a day. It should help reduce the inflammation."

Nathalie nodded quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Y-yes, Doctor," she stammered, her fingers tightening around the tube. "I'll do as you say."

Anya's gaze softened slightly, though her professional demeanor remained intact. "Good. I'd like to see you both again in two days. We'll reassess the situation then and decide on the next steps." She paused, her eyes flickering between us. "Is that alright with you both?"

Nathalie and I exchanged a quick glance, a silent understanding passing between us. "Yes, Doctor," Nathalie said softly, her voice still trembling slightly.

I nodded in agreement, my expression carefully neutral. "We'll be here," I assured her, though my mind was already racing with thoughts of our next encounter.

The automatic doors of the hospital slid open with a quiet hiss, the evening air rushing in to greet us as we stepped outside. Nathalie's legs were still unsteady, her body trembling slightly as we made our way toward the parking lot. I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to steady her.

"Are you alright?" I asked, my voice laced with genuine concern, though my tone carried a hint of amusement. "You're still shaking."

Nathalie leaned into me, her breath still uneven. "I-I'm fine," she murmured, though her voice betrayed her embarrassment.

"It's just... a lot to process." She glanced up at me, her cheeks still flushed. "Dexter, you really know how to make things... interesting."

I chuckled softly, squeezing her waist gently. "Well, we had to confirm the doctor's theory, didn't we?" I teased, my smirk widening as I thought about Anya's reaction. "Besides, I think Dr. Anya might have enjoyed it more than she let on."

Nathalie let out a soft, exasperated laugh, burying her face against my shoulder. "You're impossible," she murmured, though there was a smile in her voice. "But I can't deny... it was thrilling."

We walked slowly, the weight of the evening's events still heavy between us. The parking lot was nearly empty, the dim glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. Nathalie's fingers tightened around the tube of ointment, her mind clearly still on what had happened inside.

"Do you think she'll really help us?" Nathalie asked quietly, her voice tinged with a mix of hope and skepticism.

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