His Prescribed Pleasure | CH. 3
Jarik learns to take control
⚠️ Content Warning ⚠️
This story is a work of fiction and fantasy intended exclusively for readers 18+. It contains explicit sexual gay male on male content, exaggerated power dynamics, and taboo scenarios that are not meant to reflect real-world ethics, behavior, or medical practices. Please do not take anything depicted here as a model for real-life relationships, healthcare, or mental health treatment.
In real life, consent, ethics, and patient safety come first. Sex is not a cure for anxiety. I say that as someone who takes medication for anxiety and depression — and believes in getting real help when you need it.
If you’re struggling with mental health, I encourage you to talk to a professional and seek support. You deserve it.
This story exists solely in the realm of kinky, erotic fantasy. It is meant to titillate, not to teach. If that’s not your thing, feel free to skip. If it is your thing? Welcome, and enjoy responsibly. 💉🩺🍆
— Josiah B Vale 💙💜
CHAPTER THREE
Jarik stepped into the familiar clinic, the antiseptic smell hitting him as the receptionist gave him a knowing nod. His black jeans hugged his thick thighs, and the loose shirt he’d chosen was already slightly damp with nervous sweat under his armpits. He’d come expecting another intense session in that dimly lit back room with the leather bed and restraints, his body buzzing with anticipation for whatever Dr. Johnson and Nurse Williamson had planned. The past weeks had reshaped him, torn down the walls of shame, and left him craving their rough, commanding hands. But today, as he waited, something in the air felt different—thicker, almost electric.
“Jarik Renlow,” Nurse Williamson called, his smooth voice cutting through the waiting room hum. His green eyes locked onto Jarik with that usual seductive glint, but there was a smirk playing on his lips, something teasing behind it. “Let’s go. Doc’s waiting.”
Jarik followed, his sneakers scuffing against the polished floor as they bypassed the usual exam rooms and headed straight for the heavy steel door at the end of the dim corridor. His pulse quickened, memories of the last session—suspended in chains, stretched beyond belief—flashing through his mind. His cock twitched in his jeans just thinking about it.
Inside, the room was set up much like before: the adjustable medical bed with stirrups, a counter lined with tools and lube, and those hanging restraints in the center. Dr. Johnson stood by the counter, his broad frame commanding even in a simple black lab coat over tailored trousers. His dark eyes flicked up to meet Jarik’s, a slow, assessing smile spreading across his face.
“Welcome back, Jarik,” Johnson said, his voice deep and proprietary. “You’ve made exceptional progress. Your body and mind have adapted to our unmedicated cure far better than expected. But today, we’re trying something new—something to push you even further.”
Jarik shifted on his feet, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “What do you mean, new? I thought we were doing more of … you know, the usual.”
Johnson stepped closer, his presence looming as he placed a heavy hand on Jarik’s shoulder. “Not quite. Today’s different, Jarik. You’re taking the lead. We’ve seen how well you submit, how you’ve surrendered to treatment. Now, we test your control. You’ll be directing certain aspects of this session. Tell Williamson what you want him to do. Be firm. He’s yours to command for now.”
Jarik’s mouth went dry, his eyes widening as he glanced between Johnson and Williamson.
The nurse raised an eyebrow, that smirk widening, his tall, lean frame relaxed but expectant.
“Wait, me? I … okay, uh, I don’t even know where to start,” Jarik stammered, his voice cracking slightly. The familiar knot of anxiety twisted in his gut, a ghost of his old self creeping back in. “I’ve never done this. I’m not … I’m not like you guys.”
Williamson chuckled, stepping forward, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “Don’t overthink it, man. You’ve got it in you. Just say what you want. I’m listening. Boss me around. Start simple.”
Jarik swallowed hard, his freckled cheeks flushing red. His mind raced—every session before had been about giving in, letting them take over, their hands and cocks owning every inch of him. Now, they wanted him to flip that? His gaze darted to the restraints, the bed, the tools on the counter. A flicker of something hot and unfamiliar sparked in his chest—power, maybe. He licked his lips, forcing his voice to steady.
“Okay, uh…Williamson, get on your knees. Now,” Jarik said, the words feeling clumsy but firm enough. His heart thudded as he watched the nurse’s reaction.
