The Doctor is In


the Wolf


Dr. Markinson walked through the hall of the clinic, the heels of his Gucci shoes clacking gently on the linoleum as he made sure that his mask was straight. He was currently wearing what he thought of as The Concerned Doctor with Very Important Rounds and working hard to make sure that none of his other thoughts shown through. His eyes were glancing continually over whatever chart was in his hands and occasionally looking to see where he was going, his mouth set into an almost frown of concentration, his gait steady and quick. Here was indeed a man who should not be disturbed by anything unprofessional, as he was concerned and his rounds were definitely very important today.

Coming into the clinic this morning, it had been a choice between this mask and The Relaxed, Comforting and Almost Jovial Doctor, which consisted of a relaxed stroll, head up, eyes shining, a small grin. It was the face he wore when he could walk in and tell someone that their problem could probably be solved by a couple days of rest and a few basic exercises. And The Relaxed, Comforting and Almost Jovial Doctor had a tendency to be engaged by others in small talk conversation, something Markinson (Clyde to his friends when he was looking relaxed, comforting and even jovial) did not want to endure today. He had too many concerns and he was worried some of them might show through if he met too many eyes. Then his colleagues would begin the obligatory statements such as “You look down, Clyde” and “Want to talk about anything?” and the ever popular and classic “Whatsamatta, Clyde?” So for the whole day he would maintain The Concerned Doctor with Very Important Rounds. Because he didn’t think he could move on with work if the mask truly slipped.

It had really begun this morning when he looked in the mirror to shave. He had noticed just a bit more salt in a head of hair that had been all pepper until a few weeks ago. Markinson could chalk it up to the simple fact of his body steadily moving through its thirty-seventh year, but this still seemed a bit premature, and he firmly believed that some of it was due to stress. On top of the usual stress of his practice, he was almost certain that his wife Charlotte was having an affair. And with one of his closer friends no less. There had just been subtle signs that he’d seen around the house and when they were all together, and he seemed to be noticing them more and more lately. This only made him think of the fact that his own tryst had ended a little less than a month ago and how it had ended. Not to mention that if anyone ever found out about it, he’d likely suffer a nasty divorce and plenty of legal problems, as well as the shame his friends and family would heap on him. No wonder he was noticing that extra bit of gray.

The doctor stopped in the hallway, moved to the side and pretended to give closer examination to Jonathon Smith’s chart. He had felt his mask slipping as he thought again about his stressors, his mind seeming to betray him by conjuring up an image of his friend Dr. Jacobs and Charlotte in bed together. He could see it quite vividly, both of them naked and sweating, rocking on the bed that he and Charlotte usually slept in. It was not an image of making love, but a mental movie of pure and simple animalistic fucking. He was working hard to push the image back and make sure his mask was firmly in place.

Oh please, it’s not like you actually care about her, said a nasty little voice in his mind that had been cropping up more and more often since last month.

Of course I do, I’m happily married.

Sure, keep telling yourself that, maybe you’ll believe it. You know what they say. “A lie told often enough…” and so on. But we both know what you really go looking for and what you were doing four nights out of seven for about six months. How many nights is that Clyde? Math was never the strong suit.

It amazed Markinson how much that voice sounded like a guy he’d known in pre-med. The sort of smarmy little bastard that always presumed to know more than you about anything. He was pretty sure that guy was currently helping people ship boxes at Fed-Ex and had barely made manager before getting stuck there. That was a mistake. Doesn’t mean I don’t have the right to be jealous. Anyway, I can’t think about that here and now. I’m concerned with some very important rounds.

Oh, he’s even starting to buy his own bullshit ladies and gentlemen, fancy that! I mean it’s a talent for you to put that mask on for all these other mooks around you, but to truly start deluding yourself? You have a gift! But really, you can’t fool yourself, because deep down you know the truth. Hell, you know that your wife really isn’t the part of the equation that makes you jealous. Face it, Clyde; this one’s the real source of your anguish.

Unbidden, another mental movie began to play for Markinson. He was laying on the bed himself now, his face contorted into spasms of pleasure. His body rocked and dripped sweat, his legs pushed up as Dr. Jacobs pressed him down against the bed and thrust in and out of him. In the vision, the doctor could see the expression on his own face, a paroxysm of pure and unadulterated lust and bliss.

No, I don’t think about Gary that way, he said to himself as he worked to swipe the image from his mind. Just shut up.

Oh, brilliant retort; worthy of the masters. You know you’ve secretly lusted after that doctor since you met in residency. And why shouldn’t you? That swimmer’s body, those eyes. You know you’re a sucker for a beautiful set of eyes on a guy.

I said shut up.

But of course ol’ Gary Jacobs has always been straight as an arrow and you’ve spent just about all your life trying to deny that you have a taste for cock. So when you finally couldn’t hold back any longer, you started finding other guys to slake that thirst, if you’ll pardon the lewd pun.

Shut up!

It was easy enough to find one-nighters for a while. You’re not bad looking with that chiseled face, and you stay in shape. Nice proportioned body and, let’s just admit it, pal, a cute butt. From the first night you started sneaking off to the gay clubs, you were getting all kinds of winks and offers. Plenty of dicks to suck and guys to fuck.

Shut up!

And then of course came Eddie, darling Eddie Harrington, whose body just seemed to fit so right to yours. Hell, Eddie could have been the love your life with how much time you two spent together, if you weren’t so busy being repressed. But of course we know how that ended the other month, pal. And if anyone ever found out that-


Markinson felt his brow furrowing at this moment and he realized that his mask must be slipping. If anyone came down the hall at this moment, it would be hard to act as though he were simply concerned with something on the chart. How long had he been standing here arguing with himself?

It was best not to wonder about this too long, now that the little voice was finally silent. No one had walked through which had been a blessing. It was a slow time for the clinic right now, and thankfully far from a bustling hospital this conglomeration of several specialists, on most occasions one could stop in the hall without being bothered for several moments. Feeling safer and slipping his mask carefully back on, Markinson continued on his way to see Mr. Smith in the examination room two doors down the hall.

He opened the door with his eyes still glued to the chart, speaking in calm but commanding tones, once again lost in his role as The Concerned Doctor with Very Important Rounds.

“Mr. Smith?” he asked, not looking up.

“Yeah, but you can call me Jonathon,” said a young voice from the area of the examination bench.

“Of course, Jonathon. I can see why you go by the full name,” he said in an almost obligatory manner. He was using the fairly standard good-humor-with-patients that some doctors developed as he looked up at this new client. “I’m Dr. Markinson.” And that was when the mask almost slipped again.

The eyes that met his were some of the most beautiful, striking green he had ever seen. The patient, in his early twenties, was smiling in a simple good-natured way as he looked at the doctor’s face, and Markinson noticed just how handsome this young guy was. Already he could feel a few familiar stirrings as his eyes took a quick tour over the t-shirt and jeans clad body. It had been over a month, as the voice casually reminded him.

Focus, he told himself, Focus on the tasks at hand. Routine first examination. He has a problem, you help solve it, he goes on his way. Just look at the chart and focus on the- You have to be kidding me.

It was like some kind of cosmic joke, and Markinson could almost here a little titter from the smarmy voice in his mind. He had a moment to wonder how he’d missed this in all his pretending to look over the thing earlier. Jonathon Smith had made an appointment two days ago complaining of a chronic ache in his hips and groin area. Screwing up his professionalism, Markinson avoided those wonderful green eyes worked to shift his focus to the science of the matter, the pure and simple facts of muscled, ligaments and so on.

“So how long have you had this pain?” he asked as he moved around the room, making sure his eyes never stopped too long on his patient.

“About two weeks. I was working out and I just felt something twinge. I expected it to go away if I just took it easy for a few days, but then when a week passed I got a bit worried. After a few more days, I started looking through the phone book. I don’t usually need a doctor.”

“Well if you’re exercising regularly, I can see why. But sometimes we just put the human body through that little extra bit of strain. Go ahead and take off your pants and we’ll take a look at you.”

Good. It had sounded nice and professional, no hint of anything else as he put on a pair of gloves. But the hardest part came next.

“Need me to strip all the way?”

“No… no, you can leave your underwear on for now.” Watch yourself. You’re a professional here, remember that.

He slowly sat down in the low chair in the room as the patient (he had to think of him that way, not as a virile young guy named Jonathon with gorgeous eyes). He would move in quick, feel around professionally, figure out what was wrong, and probably tell this patient about a stretch or exercise that would work things back into place. At least that was the plan until his face was only a foot from Jonathon’s groin.

The patient (had to think of him that way, had to) was wearing briefs, the sort often referred to as “tighty-whities”, and they left little to the imagination. This guy was hung almost beyond normal standards, and the doctor had a momentary flash of himself eagerly leaning forward, kissing that bulge and slowly working to free the-

No, no, no! he thought as he fought the image away. But it was still as if a horrible joke was being played on him, because he knew the first thing he should check for in the examination.

His hands slowly moved across the area of the patient’s groin, feeling for any protrusions. His fingers could not help brushing over that bulge at times, just barely sliding over it for a moment before pulling away and moving to the side. He stifled a gasp as his fingers slid down and felt the scrotum for any possible abnormalities. Felt strong and full. Probably give plenty of-

-the complete lack of a hernia. He forced himself to return to the professional mode, he could feel it slipping as Jonathon had coughed and revealed that this could be ruled out as a problem.

“Enjoying the view, doc?”

Markinson started at this. With some male patients, this would have been a gruff ribbing, trying to break the tension of having another man cupping their balls. But it hadn’t sounded that way. It had been more playful, almost a bit of a lewd note to it. It was the tone he associated with someone “testing the waters” at the bars he used to sneak off to. And when Markinson looked up, he saw that Jonathon was grinning and those incredible eyes were dancing. “You seemed pleased enough,” he followed up, still smiling.

The doctor rolled back, looking away from those eyes, but he had time to notice that the bulge in his patient’s briefs had swelled a bit.

“Well, yes, there’s no sign of a hernia, so we can rule that out for now. You might have some torn tendons which could cause the pain to persist longer. So we’ll want to set up…”

“Look, doc, I’m just going to put it on the table. You’ve been pinging to me ever since you walked in the door. And I saw how you were looking. To be honest, I kind of liked it.”

Pinging. Markinson recognized that term. It made him pause as he looked up at Jonathon. The guy was grinning from ear to ear, no shame in the world, and it made those green eyes sparkle. For a moment, he forgot all his worries and felt a little lost in the idea of this young man and what they could do together.

And why shouldn’t you? said a familiar voice in his head. Young, good looking stud hitting on you. Letting you be comfortable admitting what you want. And you know you want this. Doesn’t it almost remind you of the way Eddie used to-

“I think you’re a bit mistaken,” Markinson said to silence the voice as he held up his left hand, “I’m married.”

Jonathon warmed his smile and bent a little closer. “Do you know how many guys get married just to avoid some of the social hassles? Look, I can tell you’re hiding, and I wouldn’t tell anyone. It’s just that… well, you look good. I wasn’t quite expecting to meet a handsome doctor today, and I believe in living for the moment. Not talking about some big relationship, just a quick nooner. And I’m pretty sure we both want it.”

“I… Look, you’re an attractive man,” the doctor finally admitted out loud. “But I just can’t. It’s not right. Besides, it might aggravate whatever your condition is.”

“You can’t fob it off that easy,” Jonathon retorted playfully, “The pain thankfully hasn’t hurt my sex life. Coming is actually a bit of relief.” Jonathon hesitated a moment, looking adding the slightest bit of mischievousness to his widening grin. “And shouldn’t you be trying to get me some relief?”

Markinson gave a little snort of laughter before he could help himself. The guy’s carefree attitude seemed infectious, and the doctor was almost jealous. It wasn’t as though his patient was saying anything that wasn’t true. Markinson did want him, was already thinking about what it would be like to go on his lunch break and meet this buck somewhere. But he had spent a month trying to avoid such temptations. Trying to turn off those urges again. And he just couldn’t throw that work aside at the drop of a patient’s pants, something he knew as he regained his composure.

“We really need to get back to the issue at hand,” he said, looking to the chart once again for rescue, “There are a few possibilities. I’m going to write you a prescription to help relieve the pain and I think you should stay off your feet whenever you can, give your body a bit more time to heal. If the problem is still…”

A hand on his cheek stopped him as his face was gently pushed to look up again. For a moment, he felt a little surge go through him. It had been so long since another man had touched him this way, and it felt good. Felt right, when he actually got right down to it.

“Tell you what, doc. I’ll take any advice and any pills you say too. I’ll get the prescription today and do whatever needs to be done. I’m going to give you a little advice of my own. Stop fighting yourself so much. You’ll enjoy life a hell of a lot more. I’m going to be waiting in the parking lot. It’s about 11:45 AM right now. If I don’t see you by 12:15 PM I’ll just leave and get those pills. But if you want to have good time, come meet me and we’ll find a quiet little place to get together.”

Markinson couldn’t seem to make his mouth work. Even when the hand was taken away, he had a hard time figuring out what to say to that. But Jonathon helped him out by speaking again.

“Now what were you saying about staying off my feet?”

Readily moving to professional terra firma, the doctor began to dispense his standard advice for such a case. In the back of his mind, he was debating and slowly tipping towards his urges. It had been so long, and even that simple touch had felt so wonderful. There was a light feeling, free of worry in the simple act of a pleasant touch, and he knew that beyond wanting it, he needed it. Otherwise, he might just fall apart.



At 12:05, Dr. Markinson stepped out of the clinic and into the parking lot, eyes scanning for Jonathon. As he had left the room five minutes after his patient’s invitation, he had slipped his mask back on and once again become The Concerned Doctor with Very Important Rounds. He had made some notes on the chart and began to convince himself as he went to one more patient for a quick follow up on an earlier problem that he would not go to meet Jonathon. All he had to do was find reasons to stay in the clinic until 12:16, and his temptation would be gone. He could go about his day, worrying about his wife as he should.

But the feeling simply lacked conviction, and he knew what he really wanted and what he needed today. So at noon he told his receptionist he was heading out for his lunch hour and went to drop off a few things in his office before going to see if Jonathon had lived up to his promise.

Oh he will, the voice in his mind chimed in again, And what a delicious lunch you’re going to have today. Nice, fat cock to wrap your lips around. Just suck on this guy for a while and maybe you can forget all about Charlotte and Gary Jacobs and those increasing gray hairs. At least for a few minutes. You might even start to forget about Eddie and what happened when-

Markinson once more silenced the voice mentally as he saw Jonathon leaning against a car in the lot. He moved over to him purposefully on the off chance that someone saw them, as though he’d forgotten to give him some vital bit of information.

“Well hey, doc,” Jonathon said, flashing that winning smile and those eyes at him again. “Forget something?”

“Look, don’t… don’t say anything or do anything here. Someone could see us at the wrong…”

“Doc, I’ve been with a few closet-cases in my time. I know the rules on discretion, trust me. So is there someplace we can go? Talk in private?” He gave the barest hint of a lascivious wink, all youthful confidence.

“Well, it might sound a little seedy” (and in truth the idea excited the doctor some) “but there’s an alley behind the clinic. I use it when I really need to think alone because no one ever goes through there. I was thinking…”

“You know, for someone trying to keep things quiet, you suddenly seem into some risky business,” Jonathon said with a smirk. “Not that I’d really mind that sort of thrill.”

“Trust me, we won’t be bothered. I’ve been out there to meditate so many times, and the visibility is blocked. We’ll hear someone coming before they could see us.”

“You almost sound like a man who’s thought this sort of thing out. Fine, I’ll go first if you point me in the right direction. Then you can walk around the other building, make it look like you went off to lunch, and double back.”

Markinson nodded and directed Jonathon to the easiest way to get there, then began walking around the other side, towards a café where several of the other employees and doctors went for lunch. As he turned the corner to get back to the alley, the doctor felt light. It seemed to him that he should be wracked with nerves, tying to turn himself back. But he was merely looking forward to this secret rendezvous, and he could almost feel his lips trembling in anticipation as he moved into the other side of the alley, seeing Jonathon waiting.

“Charming,” Jonathon said with another smirk as he looked around the alley. There were bits of paper and other litter lying around, as well as a large green dumpster being one of the fixtures blocking outside view.

“I know, it’s not exactly a nice hotel,” Markinson returned as he walked towards the other man, “but on short notice it’s…”

He was silenced as he reached Jonathon, the younger man’s arms wrapping around him and his lips quickly pressing to the doctor’s. Markinson’s own arms immediately returned the embrace as he leaned into the kiss. His lips pressed and worked against Jonathon’s, and a wave of euphoria swept over him. It had indeed been far too long. This felt so wonderful, so intense. So right.

Jonathon broke the kiss first, smiling playfully as Markinson worked to recover from the intense feelings. “Mmm, doc, I’ve got this hard feeling in my groin right now. And I think there’s some swelling. What do you suggest?”

Smiling, he couldn’t help but get into it. He hadn’t been teased in forever, and this was the sort of thing he had always loved. In the most professional voice he could muster, Markinson returned, “Ah, that’s common in men your age. I recommend a vigorous sucking to help the swelling go down. Or in lay terms, if you prefer, I can just kiss it better.”

Jonathon gave a light-hearted chuckle as the doctor already began to slide down to his knees, both of their hands fumbling at the belt and the younger man’s pants. Markinson felt wonderful hearing that. There was only here and now. Only this beautiful stud getting ready to offer his cock, and his lips just waiting to accept.

As they finally managed to work the pants down once more, Markinson leaned in the way he’d wanted to in the examination room, rubbing his lips and nose over that swelling bulge, inhaling deeply. Jonathon’s musk had a pleasantly sweet smell and it felt like he’d already had a bit of pre dribble out. The guy was hot, would be ready to pop soon, and the doctor couldn’t wait to suck him dry. The feeling was so heady, dizzying as he reached his hand up to work that cock out of its cotton covering.

But he couldn’t quite get it at that moment. The world began to swim just a bit before his eyes, Jonathon was blurring. Just too much excitement. It had been so long and he was letting himself get overworked at the feelings. He sat hard on his feet, trying to blink the blurring from his eyes, but he couldn’t seem to clear his head.

“J-Jonathon…” he said through the haze as he tried to tell the stud that he wasn’t feeling very well.

“Now that I think about it, doc, Jonathon sounds so formal,” the younger man said as he pulled the chloroform-soaked pad out from the waistband of his underwear. The playfulness had left his voice. “From here on out, just call me Jack.”

And as strong hands forced the pad over his nose and mouth, making him breathe in more of that oddly pleasant smell, Markinson’s world blurred further, slowly swimming into black.




That was the first feeling that registered for Markinson. Even before the pungent odor of the smelling salts brought him up or the realization that he couldn’t move his arms or legs, he realized that his whole body felt sticky.

Wakey, wakey, doc,” said the voice of Jonathon (or apparently it was Jack) to his left.

As he came fully awake, Markinson looked quickly around, feeling the first tingling of panic. He was laid out cruciform on an examination table, the sort normally reserved for lethal injections from what he knew. His arms and legs were strapped tight and his body seemed to shine under an intense light above, tinged with gold and the odor of the smelling salts left him, he could smell honey now. Look to his left, he saw Jonathon standing just inside the circle of light above him.

“Jonathon, where are we? What’s going on?” he asked fearfully.

“I told you, it’s Jack,” he said matter-of-factly, “And I’ll fill you in on all the details momentarily. Now, I’d like you to not speak for a couple moments, but just take a look to your right.”

Doing as he was told, the doctor could see a metal tray standing next to his head, just above his shoulder. Laid out in a neat row on what he was sure was a sterile napkin were four hypodermic needles, each with a murky solution inside. Next to these was a glass jar sealed at the top, some sort of black substance with little hints of red inside. But Markinson realized that this was not entirely accurate. The “substance” appeared to be crawling. Eyes widening and mouth almost screaming, his head whipped around towards Jack again, who placed a finger to the doctor’s lips.

“Don’t scream, you might miss something important. Now as to your first question, we’re in an old warehouse on a seedy area of the docks. You know, I didn’t even think those existed outside of Film Noir and crime novels, but here it is. It seemed like the perfect place to set things up. And you were so right about that alley. No one even noticed when I drove your car around and loaded you in. It’s parked inside the warehouse of course.”

Jack was speaking in a casual, conversational nature, but the message was clear. Don’t hope of being saved at the last minute, don’t assume I’m just messing around with you.

“As to your second question, you were what the police might call a ‘person of interest’ who was quickly upgraded to suspect when I came to get a feel for you today. So we’re going to play a game of questions, and here’s how it works. Sadly, I can’t just reach into your mind and pluck the answers I want. I don’t have that kind of ability. But, I can tell anytime someone lies to me. It’s kind of a gift. So I’ll simply have to motivate you to tell the truth. I’m sure you noticed the hypos on the tray there. Feel free to nod if you’re comprehending all this.”

Markinson nodded quickly, staring at Jack in terror.

“Ah, good. I hate repeating myself; a fact you might want to remember. Now, two of those hypos contain a simple saline solution that really won’t have any effect on you. The other two are a little chemical cocktail of my own design that shouldn’t cause any major harm, but will make it feel as though your blood is on fire for a short amount of time. And damned if I didn’t forget which ones were which when I was laying them out.”

He gave a grin at this that didn’t seem to touch those eyes which had so enraptured Markinson in the clinic.

“Now here’s how it works. For every lie you tell, up to four, I stick a needle in. Kind of like Russian roulette, you take your chance when you lie. As for the fifth time you lie… well I’m reasonably sure you’ve noticed the honey that I smeared all over your body. And the jar of fire ants on the tray. Suffice to say, I’ll start them off at your groin and then let them crawl where they may. So have I covered everything? Have any questions?”

Markinson trembled uncontrollably in the restraints. His darted about, as if hoping to see something that might save him, any kind of possibility at all, but he was trapped and knew it. “W-W-Why? Why are you doing this?” he asked, almost crying.

“And you help me get right to the point. You may be more cooperative than I had anticipated. I’ll answer that by asking another question. Does the name Edward Harrington, known to his friends as Eddie, ring any kind of bells for you?”

The doctor went still at the name, and before he could respond that smarmy voice in the back of his head began.

Ooooh, you are busted, pal! Oh, man, you are completely fucked. I warned you about this, Clyde. And I thought it would be bad if the cops found out, but this guy is not messing around. Who knows how he knew Eddie, but he knows about you, and he’s definitely pissed.

He doesn’t know, Markinson thought, trying to get a grip on himself. If he did, he wouldn’t be asking questions. He’s probably just trying to scare me with all this stuff. I know how to look sincere; I know how to mask it. He’ll realize it’s all just a mistake. Now be quiet.

 “Edward was a patient of mine for a little while. I helped him with some joint pain.”

Jack smirked as Markinson stopped talking there. “Hmm, that’s slippery, doc. I’ll give you that one, since I didn’t phrase the question too well and it wasn’t technically a lie. But you’re leaving something out. How else did you know Harrington?”

Face it. You’re fucked. And with that last shot, the voice was gone and Markinson knew he’d just have to lie. No wiggle room on that one, but the guy probably couldn’t actually tell that he was lying if he did so well enough.

“I think you’re making a big mistake. I didn’t know Mr. Harrington outside of a few professional visits. You’re already in some serious trouble, but if this goes any further, you’ll have much more to answer for.”

Jack gave a disappointed sigh, and casually walked around Markinson’s head to the tray. He picked up the first of the hypodermics without a word and headed back towards the doctor’s left arm.

“Wait… Wait, wait!” Markinson began to scream as Jack readied the needle. “Okay, okay! We were lovers! Eddie and I began an affair after his treatment was done. The first time was even before he stopped being my patient! Please, don’t!”

Jack stopped, the needle poised right over Markinson’s vein. Thinking for just a moment, he stood up and looked severely down into the doctor’s eyes.

“That’s the only pass you get, doc. Understood? Now let’s move on. I’m sure you were aware when Harrington died the month before last.”

“Yes. Heart attack.”

“Right,” said Jack, “Supposedly while he was taking a jog at night. He was known for jogging late, so that’s not out of the ordinary. But it’s a bit out of the ordinary for a heart-healthy thirty-three-year-old to have a cardiac arrest during a jog that he’s done regularly for about three years. At least his friends and his rather wealthy parents seem to feel so. Wouldn’t you agree, doc?”

“I-I suppose, but it’s possible that he overworked himself during that jog, or that there was some kind of congenital defect that had never been…”

He stopped with a gasp as he felt the needle plunge into his arm. Bracing himself for the pain, Markinson shuddered… as nothing happened. The first needle had been the simple saline. He could feel tears at the corners of his eyes now. The feel of the needle hitting his arm and the fear made him think of Eddie. Everything that had happened was beginning to hit him as he heard the cold, almost angry voice.

“Looks like you got lucky, doc,” Jack said as he leaned close to his ear, “Because you were lying through your teeth just then. And now your odds of getting lucky again just dropped to about thirty-three percent. So do you want to tell me the truth now, or shall I just prep the second needle?”

“No…” he said in a small voice, the tears starting to slide gently down across his temples. “I… I did it.”

“You did, did you?” There was almost a tender note in Jack’s voice, underneath that icy tone.

“Yeah,” Markinson nodded, crying now not from fear but from guilt. “Yeah, I did it. I killed Eddie. I… I thought I had to,” he said, breaking down completely, his chest heaving as he tried to take in breath.

“And why is that?” Jack asked. “What happened?”

“We’d been seeing each other for about seven months,” Markinson admitted through the sniffling and panting, “We were both enjoying it, but at around six months Eddie started to want more. He was completely out, you see. He started… started talking about how he wanted to really be with me. Kept trying to tell me to just break it off with Charlotte, my wife. How she and I didn’t really love each other, how it would be better if we were together. I put him off. I have a nasty pre-nup and the stigma wouldn’t help my practice. Then one day… he came to me and said we needed to talk. Said he was going to contact Charlotte and just tell her everything unless I did it first. Kept talking about how it was for us, for our own good, how much happier I’d be. I panicked. So I told him to meet me that evening and that we’d go to her together, that I’d do what he wanted.”

The doctor had been pushing it all out in a flood and now he bit his lips as he just lay there and cried for several moments. A part of Jack could almost feel sorry for him as he watched the break-down. But several facts remained.

“You had other plans,” Jack said simply.

Nodding, Markinson went on. “I told him to meet me at the clinic after work. There’s an internist in my clinic that works with kidney patients sometimes. We keep some potassium chloride in storage for emergencies. I took some of it. Loaded up a hypodermic with enough to make his heart just stop. I didn’t want to hurt him… I didn’t. But I couldn’t lose my own life because of him. When he met me… at the clinic…” Markinson broke for a moment, but the flood continued. “I kissed him. I kissed him to show him I wasn’t afraid to do it in public, even though everyone else had gone home. Then I snuck the needle into his neck before he knew what was happening. He died when he hit the ground so near as I could tell.”

“And so you left him in the park later that night so it would look like a heart attack while jogging. And if there was a tox-screen, I’m sure you managed to doctor it somehow. That’s what you do after all.”

Markinson nodded to it all, openly weeping now, his chest heaving fast as he lay there, clearly broken.

“You actually loved him, didn’t you?”

“I think so…” the doctor blubbered out, “I’ll tell the police everything.”

There was silence for a moment as Markinson could think of nothing else to say. The secret had plagued him for a little over a month, and he couldn’t believe he’d actually done it, now that he’d heard the details spoken aloud.

“Since we’re confessing, I should tell you a few things. First off, all the needles were saline. Any chemical I could get on short notice that could cause the pain I described would have just killed you immediately. And that’s not in the plans. Secondly, you’re not going to the police. The Harringtons hired me at the suggestion of one of Eddie’s friends to find out about his death. They always knew about their son and loved him. Dearly really. And people don’t hire me to bring someone in to the police.”

The doctor’s eyes widened again. “Wh-What? No, please, no! I’ll confess everything. I’ll do the maximum time, just don’t do this!”

Jack slowly began to walk down to the bound feet, his eyes roaming admiringly over the doctor’s skin now, tongue licking over his lips.

“Afraid not. You killed him, and no amount of time is going to give Eddie Harrington back to his parents or his friends. But where you’re going might offer a few people some satisfaction. I have another confession to make. I never would have given you to the ants. Would be a waste of such a delicious morsel. The honey is really for me.”

Jack slowly rubbed his flat belly and began to take off the shirt he was wearing, revealing his hairless body. He strolled down to the end of the table and looked at the doctor’s toes and slowly up his body. Leaning down, he slowly sucked some of the honey off of the two big toes, smacking his lips and moaning a bit when he was done.

Mmmm, yummy. You’re going to make a fine meal.”

Images of being butchered and slowly eaten by this psychopath flooded Markinson’s mind, and he knew there was nothing he could do even as he began begging. “No, dear God, no! Don’t, please! Don’t! No, no, no, no, no! You can’t!”

ShhhhhHush, doctor. You’re not like my last job; I almost feel sorry for you. If you could have just accepted who you are, you’d probably be living relatively happily right now and helping plenty of people with their problems. But you made the choice. You committed murder. And you did it to the wrong guy. So now it’s time for lunch. And I’m so very hungry.”

Jack bent down once more and Markinson watched in horrified shock as his mouth slowly stretched open wide and the smooth lips sealed completely around his feet. He could hear a satisfied moan as Jack’s tongue began to lick all along the soles of his feet, slowly working the straps free and pulling more of them into a hot, wet grip. He couldn’t be seeing this. It wasn’t possible; the human body simply did not work like this. But there it was, slowly working its way up his ankles as Jack began to devour him.

Jack moaned as he began to wrap his mouth around the sweetened flesh of the doctor’s feet. The flavors seemed to mingle perfectly as he let his tongue roam over their bottoms, slowly curling under the heels as he prepared for his first swallow. At the taste of the honeyed flesh, his stomach grumbled for this feast, and he took the first slow and steady gulp. Reaching a hand down, Jack unbuttoned his jeans to prepare for his belly’s stretching and gave himself a little rub as he tasted the doctor. His throat stretched easily around the feet, trapping them in a tight grip and already working to pull them down as the light coating of hair on the legs began to tickle his lips, honey smearing his mouth.

Cringing at the impossible sight, Markinson tried to kick his legs, but found the attempt in vein. The slimy grip was skintight and strong as he felt the lips pressing forward around his legs, the teeth following close behind and lightly nibbling at him. Markinson attempted to free his arms, pulling with all his strength in the hopes of effecting some kind of escape, but the straps were stronger. Hearing the hungry moans from his captor, he whimpered at his helplessness and continued to beg. He couldn’t seem to make discernable words any more; they became lost in his sobs with each attempt as those bizarrely stretching lips slipped slowly further up his legs.

There was a certain pleasure in those incoherent sobs as Jack felt the feet slip down into his chest, and as he climbed up onto the table and the legs slipped through his mouth and slowly into his throat, Jack could feel himself growing hard. The flesh of his meal seemed to intensify as he moved down the body. Whether from the doctor’s fear or simply from taking in more and more of that male meat, Jack could not be sure. But as his tongue slowly caressed the slender thighs filling his mouth, he let the table hold the doctor, his hands moving down his own body. One stroked along the bulge of the doctors legs in his chest; the other began a steady rhythm along his own cock, pulling and stroking as he began to eat the doctor’s hips.

The sensation was almost erotic, even through the terror, when that moist enclosure stretched effortlessly around his buttocks and groin. Markinson felt just the slightest bit of pleasure as warmth surrounded his flaccid member and the questing tongue began to slowly lick all around his buttocks. For a fraction of a second, he almost forgot that he was being eaten alive, almost forgot that he was paying for a crime, as his focus zeroed down to the point where his trapped penis gave the barest twitch and the smallest swell. One moment of happiness before the gently gnawing teeth and the feeling of his feet pushing through a tight ring into an even hotter chamber brought him back to what was actually happening.

Moaning and drooling, Jack savored the tender rump in his mouth. His tongue roamed all about, lapping at the sweet meat as he sucked slowly, taking all the flavors he could from this center. His hand stroked over his belly as he felt it beginning to fill once more, his cock fully erect now to the flavors and sensations. Eager for that hot, full feeling he always had after a meal, he swallowed Markinson’s hips, pulling them down into his throat and stretching it out even further. The swallowing pushed even more of the legs into his stomach, and Jack could feel his belly filling and stretching as his lips began to slide up the belly of his feast.

The skintight, slimy grip was around his entire lower body now, pulling constantly and working him further into what he had to accept was Jack’s stomach. He could feel it stretching against his feet as more of his legs was pulled down into the chamber, easily accepting him. There was no escaping being food; the doctor knew this. And he began to wonder about his fate. Jack was clearly not human, so would his stomach act like a human stomach? How much pain would he have to suffer before he passed out? The thought of actually being digested awake and alive made him shudder, compounded by the fact that he could do absolutely nothing but wait until he slid completely into that grumbling belly.

Jack felt the shudder from the doctor as he began to work his way up the chest, and gave his own shiver of pleasure from the sensation. He was filling up now, gulping down a little bit more of this delicious doctor with every instant and already beginning to feel that euphoria from a good living feast. His teeth ran through the hair on the doctor’s decently toned chest, and he decided that this was what he would take as he began to swallow this as well. He’d never tried having a hairy chest and wondered if it might help attract certain guys in the course of upcoming jobs. At the thought, he stroked himself just a bit more vigorously, feeling that he would probably come soon as his lips pushed into the doctor’s armpits.

The straps were deftly taken off of his wrists now, but Markinson knew there was nothing to be done. Even if he tried, he couldn’t possibly fight whatever Jack was, especially not in his position. He felt resigned to sliding slowly into that working stomach just as clearly as he felt the slimy grip working to get him there. He looked down into Jack’s eyes and didn’t see any of that playful beauty he’d seen there before. Just a wild, ravenous hunger that bordered on lust. A hunger that he knew he was feeding as his arms were pushed up over his head and Jack’s upper lip slowly began to slide over his face. He heard an intensely loud wet slurping sound as his world dropped into darkness once more.

Taking in the doctor’s head, leaving only his arms sticking out, Jack felt a powerful orgasm rock him. From just below his expanding belly and moving through his body, the extreme pleasure seemed to suffuse his being as he sprayed his seed all across the table on which his meal had been. As the orgasm began to wane, he eagerly slurped and swallowed the honeyed arms down, sucking them in between his lips until only the fingers remained. Slowly, Jack pulled them in, nibbling lightly at each one to enjoy this last bit of the doctor’s flavor, letting his roam all around them before taking his final swallow.

Inside the slimy grip, Markinson felt himself forced steadily down, stretching out and curling into the churning stomach until at last his fingers were squeezed through the tight sphincter into the chamber. He was wrapped in a tight ball now, the stomach pressing around him like a second skin, and he knew that he would end soon. He hoped that he might see Eddie somehow, but was also worried about what might come once the stomach truly claimed him. He could feel pressure from outside, moving around his body and pushing in on it as it began to tingle. Whatever happened now, the fight was out of him. He would have to simply wait for it to come and knew this even as he began to feel dizzy and slowly nodded off to unconsciousness.

Jack lay back on the table and slowly stroked his massive, rounded belly. He felt the heavy, still weight of the doctor inside and moaned as he licked some of the honey from his lips. Already his stomach was churning and gurgling, preparing to process his meal. Markinson had made such a wonderful lunch and Jack sighed now in the afterglow.

The Harringtons had wanted a simple phone call along with some confirmation from a few of Eddie’s friends if Jack found out anything. Then they would wire the money for this job to an account he had told them about. A few of the guy’s friends had wanted a bit more confirmation and one of them (the fellow that had found Jack and whom he felt might have had a crush of some kind on Eddie) wanted some alone time to rub Jack’s belly and know that if there was a killer, they were being digested. Jack thought the fellow might want to do a little more once he actually got there. Jack would be more than willing.

Sighing in pleasure from the meal, he reached for his cell-phone to begin making calls when it rang on its own. Jack checked the screen and saw a new number. This almost invariably indicated another job just on the horizon. Thinking that it was going to be a very good month, Jack answered in his usual manner.