http://archive.heinessen.com/mlp/thread/S15951174
 
>"And to conclude your physical, Anonymous, we will commence the prostate examination and massage."
>Whoa whoa what.
>Back the fuck up.
"W-what?"
>Nurse Redheart looks at you with an expression like she's had this conversation before.
>"The prostate exam is one of the most important parts of your physical, Anonymous. As rectal and prostate health is not a very popular subject of conversation, it often goes unchecked in many stallions, and the examination is one of the easiest preventative procedures that gets overlooked."
>Well, okay, you didn't know that, but...
>"Now, if you'd please? Lie on the bed on your stomach, hindhooves on the ground."
"But I--"
>"Please, Anonymous, we haven't all day. On the bed, now."
>Oh, goodie.
>You get off the bed-table and lie down on its cheap padding, the length of sterile paper crinkling under your weight.
>The sound of a cart rolling up behind you makes you gulp involuntarily.
>"Trust me, Anon, there's nothing to worry about."
 
>You didn't get a chance to see what was on the cart, and looking over your shoulder now, it's at a bad angle behind you.
"Whu-what are those for?"
>"Just a couple of examination tools, Anon, nothing to be frightened about. I'm sure you'd rather I use a probing rod than my hoof."
>OH Celestia.
>Your knees have buckled a little, and you could swear you heard a snicker.
>The sound makes your perk up and your face get all hot.
>A few seconds later, you hear a plastic cap clicking open, and the sound of a faint squirt.
>"This is a water-based lubricant, for safety purposes."
>Her soothing voice explaining what was going on calmed you down, enough not to bolt out of the room.
>A voice in the back of your head reminds you that this is probably standard procedure, to keep the patient aware and informed. The thought comes as no small comfort.
>"Fair warning, Anon, the lubricant is stored below room temperature."
>Hmm? What does that have to do with--
>Something cool touches your perineum and it's all you can do not to yelp.
>The coolness gets massaged gently around the surrounding area.
>Whatever it was that's doing the massaging--a gloved hoof, maybe?--carefully works it way up to your pucker, and you feel yourself clench involuntarily.
>"Please, Anonymous, try to relax. The entire procedure will go by much smoother."
>Easy for you to say, Redheart, there's no probe about to go up your
>WHOA NELLY
>The lube applicator is working its way just a little bit into your anus, around the rim.
>It's not particularly unpleasant, but nerves previously not often used are suddenly stimulated.
>The massaging doesn't go too far in, so you presume--you hope--there's also going to some lube on whatever tool's about to go inside you.
>"We're ready to begin, Anonymous."
>You could swear that Nurse Redheart had said the words gleefully.
>Something cool presses up against your taint, and you close your eyes.
>And try very hard to relax.
 
>The rod enters rather unceremoniously, and you flinch.
>It proceeds slowly, and it's not very thick, which you're thankful for, for what it's worth.
>The sensation is like... you don't know. Like something going into your butt.
>You feel a little bit like you're pooping, maybe, but not quite, because everything else about the situation is clearly wrong.
>"No obvious problems, so we're going to begin with the prostate gland."
>Just great.
>You're trying not to think about it, but that's not a very easy task.
>"The prostate gland is located very near the anus, slightly below the entrance to the rectum."
>The rod begins to move, pointing slightly downwards. It must be a little curved or something, because it doesn't seem like straight things can do that.
>You feel some light downward pressure from the probe.
>"Equine anal walls are fairly thick, but there is a sweet spot at which there is enough elasticity that the prostate can be reached."
>The juxtaposition of the smooth, confident mare's voice behind you and the rod gently stirring up your bowels is quite jarring.
>The probe enters further, and you feel more downward pressure.
>"The other traditional method of reaching the prostate is by catheter--"
>The word makes you jump a little, and the paper beneath you crinkles as you cover your mouth with a hoof.
>"--though that method is falling out of favour among patients and physicians alike."
>The rod finally stops moving inwards, and begins to wiggle around a little bit.
>You feel it touch something that normally doesn't get touched.
>"Ah, there's the prostate. Now we'll inspect it for any anomalies."
>Why does she keep saying we? Does she consider you her co-spelunker or something?
>The rod begins to push rhythmically on what you can only presume is your prostate, and you involuntarily tense up.
 
"I-Is that my...?"
>"Yes, that's your prostate gland. You feel some tensing up, like a tightness, right?"
>The paper crackles out an answer for you as you nod.
>"That is a standard reaction to prostate massage, no need to be alarmed. Do try to relax, though, Anon."
>You're not even sure what exactly is going on with your prostate, if that is really it.
>It's like, it feels different compared to the rest of your... your ass.
>Like some kind of hard nut, maybe, that doesn't have much give to it.
>Every prod sends a dull spark into your abdomen, which then spreads up to your chest, dissipating.
>You feel a stirring in your sheath, and suddenly your cheeks are being painted a fresh coat of red.
>Initially, the paper you were lying on bent and sharpened in odd places, making it a little uncomfortable, but now the paper is warm, and you can feel yourself sliding onto the cold patches every time you flinch or shuffle.
>You make it a private goal to try to move as little as possible, hoping it'd help you take you mind off the intrusion in your rear.
>The systematic prodding stops all of a sudden, and it throws you off your rhythm.
>"Okay, Anonymous, you appear to have a healthy prostate."
>Whew! Time to bounce before this gets any weirder.
>"I'm going to begin the massage now, so please report physical discomfort if you feel any."
>What? There's a straight-up massage, too?
>You shoulda paid attention when the nurse was speaking to you.
>The involuntary tightness you felt before comes back with a vengence as the rod being pushing and prodding again, this time with more intentional pressure.
>It's no longer a careful prodding, it's brushing against you.
>What were once dull sparks are now becoming dull aches, increasing in magnitude.
>Every so often the massages would pause, and your body would take that time to push all that storing energy into a throb of your member.
>There's no doubt that Nurse Redheart can see this happening.
 
>It was sure as hell discomforting to be so obviously on display like this...
>But nothing felt really /wrong/.
>Nurse Redheart continued her massage for a little while, until you felt the curved rod pause inside you.
>Hey, what gives?
>...You mean, uh, it stopped.
>Something scrapes on the ground between your legs, and then you hear the telltale clinks of metal and glass beneath you.
>You're in no position to really check what was going on, but you raise your head to express your concern.
>"We're going to begin sampling your seminal fluid now, so that we can test that and get the results back to you."
>Seminal fluid? What's that again?
"Hey, what's seminaaAA--"
>Your voice jumps about an octave as you feel a gloved hoof caress your balls.
>"Seminal fluid is what mixes with sperm to make semen. It serves as a good indication of equine reproductive health."
>The calm voice kept you in place, though you're really not sure if you'd have the sense to move at this point anyway.
>As your dick slides out of its sheath, you start to understand what your prostate was doing all along.
>The massaging begins again, even more forcefully than before, and now you can feel the dull ache as something pressing down at the base of your dick.
>Nurse Redheart says something that you don't quite catch, and then when you don't respond she chuckles.
>You're fairly stiff now, and you hear hear something shift beneath you.
>The gloved hoof leads your cock to some sort of... object.
>Your head pokes the end, and it's soft.
>Some more guiding and your dick slips into some sort of warm, stiff tube.
>Your eyes widen, and your nostrils flare.
>You know that feeling, that warm canal. You know it carnally.
>Your hips begin to thrust of their own accord, and you use your forelegs to grip the tablebedthing.
>The probe in your rectum doesn't let up, and the resulting sensation in your penis is indescribable.
>Seconds take forever to pass, each one stalled by a powerful pressure building.
 
>It could've been seconds or it could've been minutes. You neither knew nor cared.
>All you remember was a head flaring, an ass clenching, a pair of hips thrusting, and you were cumming.
>You must've entirely emptied your balls, it took so long. Spurt after spurt.
>Then it finally petered off, and you relaxed.
>You let out a long exhale, and your forehooves release the bed-table.
>The one fuzzy thought your mind could make out beyond the bliss was, what the hell are they called?
>You finally come to your senses enough to pull out of the vagina.
>A pair of hooves armed with a damp cloth surround your softening head, cleaning it of any residual fluid.
>After that's finished, Nurse Redheart thanks you for cooperating, and you come back with a breathy 'welcome' in response, still breathing hard.
>You take the chance to see what you were thrusting into.
>It's some kind of false vagina. Some half-remembered fact about how it's a lot easier to cum in vaginas than from, say, clopping, surfaces in your head and you tentatively say it checks out.
>Nurse Redheart returns that tool and a large, half-full beaker to her cart, then turns back to you.
>"This looks like a suitable sample. Thanks, Anonymous, that's the whole physical. You're free to go."
>She rips the paper liner off the bed and crumples it between her hooves, dropping it in a large black bin behind the table.
>"Oh, and be sure to schedule a follow-up appointment with the secretary out front."
>You almost didn't catch it, but before Nurse Redheart turned to her cart, she winked.
>She saunters off with the loaded cart to the back of the building, swishing her tail and humming a tune.