The Doctor’s Special Method for My Accident

In the very heart of Polanco, in Mexico City, there is a medical office almost nobody would know how to find. It occupies the fourth floor of a smoked-glass building, with no plaque at the entrance, nothing to hint at what happens behind its door. The discretion is deliberate. Only patients recommended by another patient end up there, and almost always for problems that are never spoken aloud.

The door is black wood and has, beneath the peephole, a small golden sign the size of a coin. Just one engraved letter: “V.”

Nothing else. Whoever knows why they’re there, let them knock.

That afternoon, Daniela knocked. It wasn’t her first time on that floor, though it was the first time she’d come with such an intimate urgency. She walked slowly, her knees held a little together, clutching her bag against her belly as if that could hide the obvious: she couldn’t sit down.

At reception, Renata was waiting for her, the woman the doctor called “my right hand for everything.” A redhead, slim, with a modest chest that her pink blouse only faintly hinted at beneath the white coat. She wore thick-framed glasses and red, full lips, the kind you find yourself staring at without realizing you’re doing it.

“Good afternoon, how can we help you?” Renata asked with a professional smile.

“I had an accident at home,” Daniela said in a low voice, though no one else was there. “I got a dildo stuck. One without a suction cup.”

Renata didn’t flinch. She had heard it all.

“Don’t worry, I’ll put you through to the doctor right away.”

Daniela entered the office standing up, because sitting was impossible, and found a tall man with large hands and a calm gaze, who invited her to explain herself without rushing.

“Doctor, I normally use toys with suction cups precisely so I don’t end up like this,” she began, looking at the floor. “But I spent the weekend at my family’s country house and didn’t bring anything. I lied outside: it wasn’t a dildo. It was a carrot.”

The doctor nodded without changing expression, like someone listening to the weather report.

“I was cooking,” Daniela went on, now without brakes, because once the confession had started it was easier to finish it. “I peeled several for dinner. One had just the right thickness, the right shape. I couldn’t resist. I started rubbing it over my clit, slowly, and then I put the narrow tip into my pussy. But what drives me crazy is anal, Doctor. While I was fingering myself with one hand, with the other I was stretching my asshole. When I had it ready, I turned it around and shoved it in from behind, with the thick end.”

“And that was the mistake,” he said, without reproach.

“That was the mistake. I liked it so much that I kept pushing it farther and farther in. Until I heard footsteps in the hallway, got scared, clenched everything all at once, and it went all the way in. I couldn’t get it out. I couldn’t push it out in the bathroom. And here I am, unable to even walk.”

“The important thing is that it doesn’t break inside and cause an injury,” the doctor replied calmly. “The good news is that it doesn’t have pieces or batteries that could poison you. We’re going to try to extract it with the usual method, using instruments. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll move on to the special method.”

Daniela didn’t ask what the special method was. Something in the doctor’s tone told her she’d find out in due time. She obeyed when he asked her to mount the examining horse and spread her legs.

***

The doctor put on gloves and began to lubricate his patient’s anus with two fingers, slowly, looking for the position of the object. Daniela let out a long moan, a mix of relief and something that wasn’t exactly relief. Anal sex was her weakness, and that professional touch was setting her whole body on fire in a way it absolutely shouldn’t have.

He felt the carrot with the pad of his finger and frowned.

“I have bad news. It’s very deep, and every time I try to hook it with the instruments, you contract the walls and push it farther up. I can’t force it; I could hurt you. I need your own body to expel it.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” she asked, her breathing already uneven.

“In some women, the sphincter relaxes completely during an intense orgasm. The whole musculature of the area activates and, in the contraction, expels whatever is inside. It’s the safest way.”

“Doctor, I don’t control anything at those moments. I couldn’t even tell you whether I’m opening or closing it.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” he said, moving closer to the horse again. “May I?”

Daniela swallowed. She knew perfectly well what she was agreeing to, and she agreed anyway.

“Yes. I’m in your hands.”

“Relax. I’m going to caress your labia majora and stimulate the clit from the outside, with two fingers. Most people think the right thing is to touch it directly, like a button. My technique is different: I press from the outside, without invading it, letting it come out to seek the contact itself.”

He lubricated his fingers a little more and began. He stroked Daniela’s sex entrance with calculated slowness while, with his other hand, he monitored the sphincter. He confirmed what he expected: at every peak of pleasure, the anus gave a millimeter, loosened, and closed again. There was hope.

With his thumb and index finger he trapped the clitoral hood and pressed it. Pressing and releasing, pressing and releasing, making the clit peek out again and again from its fold. Daniela breathed harder and harder, gripping the edges of the horse.

“You’re doing very well, miss. I can see you opening up. If you reach a strong enough orgasm, you should expel the carrot on your own.”

“Ahh… yes… there… don’t stop…” she panted, arching her back against the table.

“I’m going to place a suction device on your clit while I apply internal stimulation. It will be more effective.”

“Yes… please…” her voice came out broken—“Please, fuck me.”

“Relax,” he said, unruffled. “All of this has a medical purpose, not a sexual one.”

She kept begging between moans, and the doctor, without losing his composure, lowered the zipper and freed what he himself called, with some irony, his special instrument. They didn’t call him “Doctor Cock” because of his real surname, but because of that. He had extraordinary endurance, and that stamina was, according to him, the key to treatments like this.

***

With one hand he held the suction device against Daniela’s soaked clit. With the other he guided the tip to the entrance of her sex, which accepted it without the slightest resistance. He began moving at a firm, steady rhythm, his eyes fixed not on her, but on the sphincter he watched like a surgeon watches a wound.

Daniela moved her legs uncontrollably, closing them, opening them, striking the horse with her heels. The doctor had to stop for a moment to strap them to the side supports with two padded restraints.

“For your safety,” he explained. “And for my precision.”

With her legs immobilized, he could increase the pace. The thrusts became deeper, the suction device worked without rest, and Daniela felt the orgasm climbing from somewhere in her belly. She tried to cling to the doctor’s coat, to pull him toward her, but he gently dodged her hands and focused on his only goal: getting that fucking carrot out once and for all.

Then Daniela’s breathing caught. A full second of absolute silence, her body taut as a wire. Then, a long cry, and her sex contracted with such force that it expelled the doctor with a single push.

After him came a jet of transparent liquid, arcing out, not too intense, which could have been urine or the coveted squirt. The doctor didn’t flinch. What interested him was lower down: in the middle of the convulsion, Daniela’s anus had opened, and about four or five centimeters of carrot finally appeared.

He stretched out his hand to catch it. He brushed it, had it between his fingers for half a second, and it slipped away. Another contraction sucked it back inside.

“Almost,” he murmured, far from giving up.

He penetrated her again, this time fast, ten or twelve hard thrusts in a row. A second spurt, weaker than the first, announced what might have been another orgasm or the continuation of the previous one, because a woman’s pleasure doesn’t switch on and off like a light: it has currents, tides, continuity.

With that second wave the carrot came out again. But this time the doctor was prepared. He had a piece of gauze ready between his fingers, caught the end so it wouldn’t slip, and kept pulling, millimeter by millimeter, with infinite patience, until the object came out completely. Behind it remained Daniela’s two holes, pink, swollen, completely opened by the effort.

***

Daniela lay there for a moment, catching her breath, while the doctor released the restraints and handed her a towel so she could clean herself. He gathered up the instruments with the same naturalness with which he would have put away a stethoscope, still with his cock out because he hadn’t had time to tuck himself away.

She slowly sat up, still trembling, and before getting down from the horse she leaned in and gave him a long, grateful kiss on the lips.

“Doctor… can I suck it? As thanks.”

“I’m sorry to say no,” he replied, buttoning his coat with an imperceptible smile. “It wouldn’t be professional.”

Daniela laughed for the first time all afternoon. She dressed slowly, relieved to discover she could sit again, that she could walk like a normal person again. At the door she turned back one last time.

“Next time I cook, I promise to use the carrot only for the salad.”

“I hope so,” said the doctor. “Though if you have another accident, you know where we are.”

As she left, Renata handed her a folded slip of paper with a follow-up checkup date in one month. Daniela slipped it into her bag, knowing in advance that she’d invent any excuse just to come back to that plaque-less fourth floor, where a man with big hands and infinite stamina cured ailments no other doctor dared to treat.