Mephisto's Anatomy

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“So what can I do for you today, Mr… Phisto, is it?” The doctor sat professionally erect on the far side of the desk. A beautifully penned Patent of Ability from the school of medicine hung on the wall behind her, and two great big patents of femininity hung in front of her. He examined them well for forgery. She continued, “Gout, mumps, progeria? Tell me.” Behind her delicate spectacles, her eyes widened in childlike anticipation.

“Doctor Schwartz, you should know that I am no ordinary man. The fires of Hell flow through my veins, and the everburning coals of that nether abyss blaze bright within my nutsack. My unholy passion must constantly be quenched, and I have done so with every manner of lustful being - from aquatic mammal to narcotic camel. I do myself a disservice to say I am the most accomplished lover in the history of genitalia. So I trust you will understand the gravity of the situation when I say that my cock no longer works.”

The doctor leaned towards him, near bursting with questions. What was Hell like? Was her father there? Had he ever slept with twins? She settled for something more professional, and said, “Whip that dick out for me.”

Mephisto had never refused such a request, especially from such a handsome woman, and he wasn’t about to start now. He undid his breeches and, like a great oak felled in the woods, his cock slammed down on the desk. It resembled an artist’s impression of a well endowed whale, immortalised forever in stone.

She poked it with one painted pink fingernail. “Rock hard, I see,” she said, and an excited grin split her face. In a feverish rush, she pulled open a drawer and withdrew a small chisel and a dainty hammer, before catching herself and asking delicately, “Do you mind?”

Mephisto shook his head and, as she took careful chinks out of his sedimentary member, he explained what had led him to this point. “I fucked a basilisk. Well, two basilisks and a gorgon. But the gorgon and the other basilisk were in the shower together while we banged out a quickie. It was my fault, really. I knew she was ticklish.”

The doctor had put down the chisel and was rubbing some kind of varnish along his length. In different circumstances he might find it pleasing, but now he was pre-occupied with thoughts of terminal celibacy. So he asked, “Please, doctor, is there anything you can do? I’ve got a date with a particularly horny hornless unicorn tomorrow night.”

She looked up at him. Her eager eyes peeked out from over her spectacles, and her ample cleavage from over her low cut shirt. “I have just the solution, Mr Phisto. A simple acid bath should remove most of the outer layer, and I daresay your… infernal qualities will clear up the rest.” She scribbled on a small sheet of paper. “Take this referral and give it to my secretary. And be sure to return once it clears up for a, um, followup examination,” she said with a blush.

For a moment he considered staying despite his crusty cock. But, until he was whole again, she was forbidden fruit and he was a citrus allergy. The secretary greeted him warmly at the front desk, and he handed her the referral. She was a cute young gelatinous blob, in the shape of a cute young voluptuous babe. He’d slept with many a slime in his time, but never one with such a fine sheen and supple surface tension. He couldn’t entirely hide his appreciation, nor the tectonic trouser snake quaking in his pants.

She looked from his chiselled forearms to his literally chiselled bulge, and said slyly, “Come with me into the back room.” He was used to exciting a certain amount of enthusiasm out of the opposite sex, nay he’d come to expect it, but this was forward even for him. And at a time when erosion was just about the only thing on his mind. Seeing the confusion on his face, she showed him the note and smirked, “I’m your treatment, silly. Let me kiss it better for you.”

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