Work Text:
Sadistic anticipation spread through Dr. Tom Riddle like a wildfire. His next patient was 25 – just 5 years younger than Tom himself – and muscular. However, what had Dr. Riddle so excited was the boy's nervous body language. Nowadays, pretty boys like Mr. Potter were oozing with confidence and self-importance. This boy though? He would not question a thing Tom told him. Still, carefulness never hurt.
"So, could you describe your symptoms for me?" Tom asked, staring at the fidgeting boy in front of him.
"Er…didn't the lady at the desk record it already?"
Perfect, Dr. Riddle thought. If he was already this shy when it came to just talking about it, then he would definitely let Tom do whatever he wanted with him. Ah, how he loved patients like him; sadly they were very rare. Maybe, he could get Harry to come back again? He felt his dick twitch at the thought of getting the boy to agree to bi-yearly visits or more.
Mr. Potter had started to play with the knee that was tightly crossed over the other one, biting his lip nervously.
"Yes, but I need to make sure I have all the information, and more importantly, that I have the right information. Imagine if I just went with what I was given and there had been a mix-up of patients?" Tom's face twisted into a grimace to convey how bad that would be. Harry mirrored his expression.
"Yeah, I understand. It's just…"
"…a rarely talked about topic?" Tom guessed what Harry had meant to say, earning himself a sweet nod, and big, pretty green eyes blinking at him. Tom read them as, "Please, Dr. Riddle, take care of me!" Oh, Tom definitely planned on doing just that.
"You are constipated?" Tom asked, prompting his patient to avert his gaze in embarrassment and nod awkwardly, face already flushing deliciously. Oh, this one was going to be fun. Tom would devour him whole; he hoped there would be enough left of Harry for future-Tom.
"When was your last bowel movement?" Tom asked clinically, still staring at the squirming form sitting across from him. He saw Harry gulp.
"A–A week ago, sir," Harry whispered, and oh if it didn't make Tom's dick start to swell. The cute thing had even called him sir. Tom would keep him. He had to.
Tom looked at his patient gravely, sighing in the universal-doctor-language meaning you are fucked. "That is bad, Mr. Potter. Really really bad."
Harry, very adorably, gaped at him in shock at the unexpected answer. "B-but, isn't a week still in the okay zone? I thought–I thought that…I mean it does hurt like hell, but–" he trailed off, so easily falling into panic, curling up into himself even more than he already was. Cute.
"No, Mr. Potter, it could be quite serious. While in a lot of cases, there are no long lasting consequences, there are quite a few that suffer irreparable harm – people just don't talk about it, as you can imagine. So it is a common misconception that one week without a bowel movement is still nothing too serious – which is plain wrong."
Harry's big, scared puppy eyes had taken on astronomic proportions, and Tom already imagined the delicious cries he could elicit from those pouty lips.
"So, you did the right thing in coming here to me, Mr. Potter," Tom said earnestly, trying to further gain his patient's trust so he could exploit it better.
Harry just nodded weakly, flushing once again.
"If you would undress for me, so I can examine you and take care of your blockage?"
Harry nodded once more, and stood up. He waited several moments, likely expecting his doctor to turn around and give him some privacy. Tom just sat there, smiling encouragingly, and continued to stare.
"Ahm," Harry said, brows furrowed in insecurity, before he unexpectedly seemed to find his spine. Tom would have to crush it immediately; he couldn't have the boy thinking that he had any say in what Tom wanted from him. "Could you please turn around, sir?"
Tom's smile tuned patronising and concerned all at once. "I'm afraid I can't do that," he patiently said. Harry's mouth opened, not having expected his professional doctor to disagree with his request. "Mr. Potter, I need to observe any natural occurrences of pain you might experience during your movements. It's crucial for your medical assessment, I assure you." Tom folded his hands on the desk and nodded gravely at his patient. To further sell his point, he added softly but sternly, "Every patient has to go through that, Mr. Potter, you are no exception to that."
Harry took a step back at the rebuttal. "Ah…of course not, that's not what I meant…" he said and swallowed hard, before turning his red face towards his jeans. With shaking fingers, he freed the button and pulled down the zipper. After self-consciously stepping out of his shoes and pants, he looked back up.
Tom waved at him, "Everything, Mr. Potter. Your pants are not enough."
Harry looked from Tom to himself in complete incomprehension, "But–"
Tom interrupted him sternly, "Mr. Potter, are you refusing my treatment? Do you know how many sick patients I could–"
Harry hastily pulled his graphic t-shirt over his head, exposing his muscular and tanned abs. "No! I–I'm sorry, sir, that was not my intention!"
"Good," Tom praised, voice a half-purr as he watched Harry follow his orders so perfectly.
When Harry was completely naked – he had even removed his socks without needing further prompting, such a good boy – Tom directed him to the padded examination table.
"On your knees and elbows, please." Tom watched as Harry positioned his body, cataloguing all the red patches of blush on his skin, before looking at that butt of his. From where he stood, Tom could already see Harry's sweetly wrinkled hole clench in fear of what would happen. Goose-bumps had spread all along Harry's skin at the colder temperature in the room.
With loud snaps that made Harry flinch, Tom pulled on his gloves. He was very glad to own this private doctor's office – otherwise, the danger of someone stumbling in would be too big.
He lubed up a rectal thermometer and approached his patient.
"Stay still, I will take your temperature first," he told a weakly nodding Harry. The boy flinched, as Tom pressed his cold hand to his lower back, pushing him into an even more revealing position. Next, he used more lube on his finger, before applying it generously on his patient's arsehole, pulling the flushed cheeks apart with the other. Harry whimpered at the sensation – likely having never been touched there by a stranger.
Stroke after stroke went around and over the wrinkled sphincter, more thorough than was professional, but Harry would neither know nor question that.
When Harry's hole was sufficiently coated, Tom slowly inserted the thermometer. Poor Harry flinched away in discomfort; already his panting breaths reached Tom's ears. Oh, how sensitive this boy was, Tom knew he would have lots of fun with him.
"There, there," Tom soothed after it was fully situated inside him, holding it in place with one hand. His left hand adjusted his pants to accommodate his stiff cock. Harry's own was still soft, yet slowly showing interest at what Tom was doing to him.
When the device beeped, he withdrew it and looked at it. "Hm, your temperature is worryingly elevated, Mr. Potter," Tom lied.
Harry flinched, before stammering, "And–and what does it–how bad is it?"
Tom just patted his ass cheek and gravely said, "I will further examine you to make sure you are okay. Don't worry, you are in good hands." Harry couldn't see the sadistic smirk on Tom's face; he was enjoying this immensely.
"I will use my finger next, to see how severe the blockage is, please stay still for me." Without giving the boy time to answer, he inserted his finger into the slick and warm hole. Harry deliciously clenched around him and Tom imagined those walls squeezing his cock instead. Said dick twitched inside his pants, and even Harry's was stiffening more and more.
"Aah," Harry panted pathetically as Tom pushed it farther inside, adding a second finger that was not medically necessary. "Hgn," Harry grunted as Tom fingered him, enjoying the way Harry's sphincter did desperate little spasms. "Good boy," Tom praised, "You are enduring so well."
After another few minutes of playing with the now fully hardened boy, Tom withdrew his fingers and sighed. "I will not lie to you, but it does not look good. Once the blockage is out of your colon, I will need to have a closer look at your insides." Harry just pressed his face into the paper covering the table and bit his wobbling lip, body shaking from a mix of fear, embarrassment and something not entirely unpleasant.
A serious of loud snaps made Harry flinch again; Tom had just removed his gloves to replace them with new ones. "I will give you a suppository before administering an enema." To Tom's absolute delight, Harry's breathing grew more laboured at his words. Ah, how he loved his job. Moments like these made touching disgusting elderly people worth it.
As loud as possible, Tom removed the white bullet from its plastic cage – of course the biggest size he owned. Definitely not specially ordered for patients like Harry.
"Careful, don't flinch," he warned, before using his left hand to spread the boy's cheeks as wide as he could. With perfect vision of Harry's fearfully twitching hole, he inserted the suppository as deep as Harry's constipation allowed, prompting delicious whimpers from the boy below him. "There, all in," he told Harry, "To make sure the suppository stays where it's supposed to be, I will keep my finger inside." Harry just sniffled in answer. When the burn kicked in, Harry whimpered and moved his butt from side to side, until Tom took hold of his hip and sternly said, "Mr. Potter, stop moving."
"But it–"
"I know. Be good for me," Dr. Riddle ordered Harry, knowing that Harry was already way too far gone to notice any unprofessionalism – not like the boy would talk about anything that happened inside this office, anyway.
When the medication was resolved enough, Tom pulled his finger out and changed his gloves once more. "Stay like this, I will now prepare your enema." A fearful shiver went through the boy at the word 'enema'. Ah, how cute his Harry was, so perfect for him.
Tom, of course, picked the largest nozzle he owned – totally not for situations like this.
By pure coincidence, Harry looked up just as Tom was lubing up the big, black nozzle, and promptly tried to flee. "That's way to big!" he shrieked, aghast at the sight.
Tom, sadistically delighted, just smiled in condescension at his patient. "Mr. Potter, because I had to stretch your walls and sphincter to assess the state you are in, the nozzle will have to be bigger to accommodate this. Do you want water to leak all over my table and floor, Mr. Potter?"
Harry shook his head, feeling uncertain after Tom's explanation. "Please get back into position, or did you forget your serious condition?"
Harry bit his lip and did what Tom said, and oh did Tom love it. Luckily, Harry hadn't seen the obvious dent in Tom's trousers.
Having Harry's arse back in his face, Tom spread those beautiful cheeks once more and began to slowly insert the big nozzle, slightly fighting against Harry's protesting hole. "Hgn, no! It's too big, it hurts!"
Tom just said, "shh, relax for me," too busy enjoying himself. Harry's butt wriggled sweetly in pain at the too big object being forced to enter it. "AAh," Harry cried, sniffling pathetically.
Once everything was fed into Harry's clenching hole, Harry sagged into himself while still keeping position, panting heavily, sweat glistening on his naked and flushed skin. Surprisingly, Harry's cock was rock hard and twitching. How interesting.
With a click, he started the flow of warm, soapy water. "Let's get you nicely cleaned out." His only answer was a pained whimper Tom savoured with malicious delight. "Good boy."
Tom knew the moment cramps hit the boy when he started eliciting those pained cries again. "Turn around and lie on your back so I can massage your stomach; it will help with the pain and blockage." With tears streaming down his reddened face, Harry did what Tom told him.
Dr. Riddle now had the perfect view of Harry's stiff cock that was already dripping pre-cum onto his toned stomach. He used his pale hand to rub circles into Harry's denting stomach, watching Harry's expressive face twist in pain and humiliation.
"You're doing so well, Mr. Potter, you are already half-way there."
Harry's eyes flew open, widening at those words. "Only?!" he shrieked in horrified disbelieve. "I'm going to burst!"
Tom chuckled. "No, you won't." Harry just whined and closed his green eyes again, clutching the medical table like a life line.
When all the soapy liquid was inside Harry, Tom had the delightful privilege of telling his patient that he would be required to hold it for ten minutes so it could do its job. "Unless, you want to get another enema?" Tom asked, already knowing the answer before Harry shouted a frantic NO.
"Let's use this time for further examination," he told his squirming patient and changed his gloves again. Harry weakly tried to protest, but Tom ignored him, pulling a long, thin object from one of his special drawers.
"What...what is this?" Harry asked, voice a broken whisper. "That," Tom answered gleefully, "Is called a 'sound', do you know what that is?" Harry shook his head with trepidation; probably sensing that he wouldn't like it. "This lets me examine the state of your urethra and prostate," he patiently explained as his dick twitched inside his pants at Harry's horrified expression. "It…it goes inside…"
"Yes, exactly, Mr. Potter. It is a very necessary step to determine your health. Please let me take care of you," Tom lied; it was absolutely unnecessary. Harry visibly swallowed hard, warring with himself for a second before turning his head away. His face was already twisted in preparation at the discomfort he was anticipating, mixed with the pain his stomach was causing him.
Tom confidently took Harry's hard member in hand, pumping it a few times with the natural lubrication Harry's pre-cum provided, and pulled the foreskin down, freeing Harry's pink head. Harry whimpered at Tom's ministrations, lightly thrusting his hips into Tom's skilled hand.
With his left thumb and forefinger, Tom gently squeezed the glistening head to open its slit better. His right hand positioned the slim sound above it, taking one last look at the pathetic mess that was Harry Potter, and began feeding it into the boy's urethra. Loud keening sounds rang through the sterile room as Harry tried and failed to cope with the unfamiliar feeling. "Good boy," Tom praised and kept inserting it despite Harry's whined 'noo's and 'stop's.
"Pleease," Harry desperately begged at the combined feelings, just to be shushed by Tom.
Once the sound was fully inserted, Tom began fucking Harry with it, eliciting confused moans from his patient. His freed left hand left Harry's cock to play with the boy's balls, making him buck into Tom's hand in need – he was very close.
Once he felt Harry come with a full body flinch and a loud moan, he pulled the sound back out and clinically said, "Looks like you are perfectly healthy there." He winked at Harry's spent form, and the cum leaking out of his cock. "Don't worry, with the natural pleasure zones in your body, it is natural to orgasm during such an examination. You did very well for me." Harry avoided his eyes and whimpered.
"Now, I will help you to the toilet that is just through this door, pull the nozzle out and leave you to expel the fluids and stool.
After leaving a loudly panting Harry on the toilet, clutching his rounded stomach in pained desperation, he waited for his patient to reappear, checking that the secret camera in his office was actually filming; he would need this for his spank bank, it was incredibly valuable.
Having made sure that he would be able to watch young Harry be wrecked by him however often he desired, Tom quickly took care of his own dick, coming with a few hard strokes into a tissue, and throwing it into the bin.
When Harry finally reemerged, he helped him back onto the table onto his knees and elbows.
"Good boy, now let's have a look at how your insides are faring." Harry had stopped protesting, probably having checked out mentally. How unfortunate, Tom thought. He rather liked Harry's sweet reactions.
Out of one of his drawers, Tom took a metallic speculum; he liked the squirming its coldness produced. To elicit more of Harry's whimpers, he walked around to show it to Harry. "Please open your eyes, as your doctor I need to be sure you are made aware of this examination's proceedings." Harry opened his green eyes, just to immediately close them again, keening in distress at the sight of the menacing object. Tom's smile was wide in sadistic delight as he walked back around to Harry's desperately clenching hole. However, because of the big nozzle, its attempts were fruitless. Tom still watched it for a few moments, savouring this moment.
Slowly, he inserted the speculum until it was fully inside the boy. Harry was sucking in air through his teeth the entire drawn-out time. As Tom began to widen it to be able to look at Harry's walls, those sounds turned into quiet shouts of pain, "Noo!"
Tom kept on opening it until it was as wide as it would go. "Let's see," he whispered, breath hitting the boy's cheeks, making him flinch at the sudden sensation. Everything looked perfectly normal. To Harry, he said, "Hm, I might have to look at this with an ultrasound, too. I'm not 100% sure whether there is a tear or not."
After the metal object was closed again and pulled out, he wheeled the ultrasound towards his wildly shivering patient, and told him to lie on his left side and pull his legs to his chest. Without comment, he lubed the ultrasound up and started inserting it, prompting Harry to gift him more of those keened sounds of discomfort. Tom's left hand was spreading Harry's hole open while he slowly fed more and more of the object into Harry's abused hole. The monitor showed him the perfectly healthy inner walls of his sniffling patient.
Tom gave a fake relived sigh, "Looks like there is no tear, lucky you." He pulled the long object back out and patted his patients behind in comfort. "I will give you a soothing suppository to calm your rectum, then you can get dressed again." Harry whimpered in pure relieve for it to finally be over. Little did he know that Tom wouldn't let him go so easily.
Harry bravely endured Tom's last act of humiliation, and immediately jumped down from the table to frantically cover himself with his clothes and hide his once more stiff cock. Tom just watched him again, sitting at his desk like when Harry had first entered his office.
Once Harry was fully dressed, he looked for Tom shortly, and sat down across from him. He kept his red face averted, fidgeting with his shirt.
"While you were very lucky to have not suffered any serious long-term consequences from this constipation, it does not mean next time will be the same," he admonished sternly. Harry just nodded his head while biting his still wobbling lip, fidgeting on the hard seat; his poor hole was probably sore from what Tom had put it through.
"You will come back in a few days so I can have another look; sometimes in such cases, small fissures can be overlooked that widen during bowel movements and get infected, and we don't want that." At Harry's no-reaction, Tom added, "In such a case we would likely have to remove the infected areas with surgery–"
"What?!" Harry interrupted, pure horror written on his face. Tom quickly calmed him, "That's why we will check for it in a few days, to prevent such extreme measure."
Harry nodded in frantic agreement, goosebumps spreading at the terrifying thought.
As frightened as Harry was, Tom knew Harry would come back. He also knew that he could manipulate the boy to return after that, too. Tom would not let Harry escape him; he was his now. And Tom never lost his possessions.