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Sam shivered a little as he sat on the table; the blue gown he’d been given didn’t even reach his ass, and the faux-leather surface was chill beneath his skin.

It didn’t help he’d been sitting there for nearly ten minutes, in the drafty exam room, waiting for his doctor.

Who finally decided to make an appearance, and Sam had to fight hard not to roll his eyes.

Dean had helped him act out a lot of his fantasies, so he deserve Sam’s reciprocation, but all the same Sam was sure nothing he’d ever asked Dean to do was as cheesy as this.

His brother was wearing a white coat, had a stethoscope draped around his neck, and was carrying a clipboard.

He still looked anything but a doctor, and Sam knew he was going to have to try really hard to suspend his disbelieve in this scene, but as long as he didn’t look down, he figured he could manage.

Because if he did look down….

Yep.

Dean also had on a pair of cowboy boots and Sam dug his fingernails into his thighs to trap the giggles threatening to work their way to the surface.

“Something wrong, Mr Winchester?” There was steel in Dean’s tone.

“No, doctor, nothing’s wrong.”

“Your yearly medical is serious business. If you find it amusing….”

“Oh, I don’t.” please, please, just get on with it, Dean, or you’re going to find out just how much.

But maybe he wasn’t convincing enough which, he supposed, was how he ended up naked, strapped down to the exam bed, with his legs buckled into the stirrups.

The draft was even worse over his exposed hole, and he was starting to think this had been Dean’s plan all along.

Sneaky fucker.

Not that he could tell Dean he thought that, since the spider gag holding his mouth open was doing a good job of reducing everything he had to say to mumbles and grunts.

And now he was drooling, just great.

He glared up at his brother as Dean made a good show of taking his pulse, and then popped the ends of the stethoscope in his ears.

“Try to stay still,” Dean said, and there was that wicked glint in his eyes which puzzled Sam until the bell was pressed just next to his left nipple.

He almost bucked off the bed; for it still to be that cold, Dean had to have left it in the freezer for hours, and his big brother seemed to take a sadistic delight in pressing it right on both his nipples next, then his stomach, and then holding it over the head of Sam’s dick.

When he got out of this, he was going to kill Dean. Slowly.

But then Dean set the stethoscope aside. “Well, all that seems normal. Let’s take a look inside, shall we?’

Sam watched as Dean snapped on a pair of gloves, and then wheeled a trolley over to the bed, making sure his brother could see exactly what was on it.

There was an open ended syringe, already filled with a clear gel like liquid and, of course, a speculum.

And right next to that, Dean’s other chosen implements of torture.

What Sam wanted to say was ‘no way are you sticking any of that in me’. But thanks to the gag it came out ‘mmmh mmph nnnph’.

Dean cocked his head to one side. “You know, Mr Winchester, I can’t understand you with the gag in.”

Forget killing him. Sam was going to stick the biggest toy they had up his ass, and leave Dean handcuffed for a whole damn hour until he was too exhausted to even beg.

He couldn’t deny the fact that his dick perked up at finally having something in his ass, even if it was just the syringe, squirting a good amount of lube into his channel.

Dean’s finger went in next, stretching him a little, making him flinch, and Sam knew when Dean was just being an ass because he already had something to use for opening him up.

And, of course, the speculum came next.

The stretch was uncomfortable, and Sam clenched up on instinct, but Dean was unforgiving as he screwed the tool open, fighting through Sam’s resistance, until Sam was sure he was gaping down there.

“Excellent. Now let’s test how responsive you are.”

He reached over, and Sam watched him pick up the narrow paintbrush.

It disappeared out of sight, but Sam knew where it went; he felt the most delicate touch inside him, and holy shit it was barely there but in the same instant too damn much.

When Dean was able to reach in enough to stroke it across his prostate, Sam nearly bucked off the table, or tried to, but he’d been strapped down so tight that he barely got an inch.

He heard Dean chuckle, and damn it, he was going to make his brother pay for this.

“I’d say you’re very responsive.”

No shit. Dean was letting his inner artist out on Sam, producing a masterpiece and Sam whined and jerked and pleaded his way through it, no words, just begging with mumbled cries and attempts to get away from his brother’s new found ‘skill’.

It didn’t help, and Sam could feel himself getting closer, closer, and then he was coming, body pulling taut against the restraints pinning him to the bed before he sagged back, panting and spent.

Dean looked so fucking pleased with himself that Sam wanted to kick him, and gave it a fair try.

He got a look of disapproval for that.

“You know, we do get unruly patients occasionally. But we know how to deal with them.”

Oh fuck, what now?

Sam watched Dean pick up the vibrator from the trolley, and lube it up before he was back at Sam’s ass.

The speculum closed and was withdrawn, but Sam’s ass wasn’t empty for long.

He mumbled an objection as Dean slotted the vibe inside him, and then switched it on.

It was like an electric current jabbing through him, and Sam shook his head frantically, too worked over to come again so soon.

But Dean just smiled, wickedly, and Sam thought fine.

And started trying to push the vibe out.

Dean reached up, and took both of Sam’s nipples between thumb and forefinger, and squeezed.

The sharp pain took his breath away, and he abandoned his attempt at squeezing out what Dean had pushed into him.

“And just in case you try that again,” Dean said.

Sam groaned as he watched Dean secure another strap to the bottom of the bed, pull it snug against his ass, and then fed it up over Sam’s dick...trapping it against his stomach, before buckling it to the wide belt that ran across his waist.

Sam snarled through the gag, but Dean’s only reaction was to come up to the top of the bed.

He stroked his thumb across Sam’s lower lip.

“Seems like I haven’t been thorough in my examination of you, Mr Winchester.”

He unzipped his pants, and then turned Sam’s head to the side, leaving him with quite the eyeful.

He twitched as he felt his own dick starting to fill again, but with the belt holding it down, he knew this was going to be torture.

And then Dean was feeding his cock between Sam’s open lips, and holding his head still, stopping Sam pulling away.

“Let’s fix that, shall we?”

Sam groaned around Dean’s dick.

Oh, yeah, Dr. Sexy was definitely going to pay for this one.