Not by a long shot

“Okay You'll now need to jog on the spot for me for thirty seconds. Can you do that?"

Mitch nodded nervously, his heart racing as he prepared to perform the requested task. He began to jog in place, feeling his dick and balls swing around, hoping the doctor wouldn't notice. But he knew that was unlikely, and the thought made him feel even more self-conscious.

He couldn't help but wonder what the doctor was thinking as she watched him, her expression unreadable. Mitch focused on his breathing, trying to keep his mind off the awkwardness of the situation, feeling his body heat up and his breath quicken.

Finally, the thirty seconds were up, and he came to a stop, panting slightly. The doctor made another note on her clipboard before turning to face him.

He couldn't help but feel self-conscious about his physique as he bounced up and down, his muscles jiggling slightly with each movement.

When he finished, the doctor checked her watch and jotted down some notes. "Great job, Mitch" she said, smiling encouragingly. “Just a few more of those,” she added.

Mitch nodded, feeling a sense of embarrassment wash over him. As he began the next set of exercises, he tried to focus on his form and breathing, but the image of his junk slapping around between his legs

kept creeping into his mind.

He couldn't help but wonder if the doctor was judging him, silently criticising his body. Mitch had always struggled with accepting his size, especially when it came to his penis, and this situation only made things worse.

As he completed the third set, he let out a sigh of relief. The doctor thanked him for his efforts and assured him that he was making progress.

Mitch smiled weakly, still feeling uneasy about the whole ordeal.

The doctor made some more notes on her clipboard before turning back to Mitch and approaching again with the stethescope in hand. "Now, I want you to take a deep breath in and hold it for a few seconds, then exhale slowly," he instructed. Mitch complied, feeling the cold metal of the stethoscope against his chest once again.

The silence in the room was deafening as the doctor continued his examination, leaving Mitch to his own thoughts.

"Okay, one last time, jogging on the spot, but this time for a minute.”

Mitch looked down at his dick, feeling even more self-conscious than before. He took a deep breath and began jogging, his mind racing with negative thoughts, his eyes fixed on the wall as he tried to ignore his bouncing genitals.

The doctor looked at him sympathetically, sensing his discomfort. "I know this isn't easy, Mitch," she said softly. "But I promise you, we'll get through this together." Mitch nodded obediently, knowing he had **** but to go through with the examination.

His cheeks flushed as he imagined how ridiculous he looked with his junk out and bouncing up and down.

Finally, the doctor called out that the minute was up. He felt embarrassed and humiliated but relieved that it was over. Mitch stopped jogging he wasn't out of breath in the least, but the humiliating experience had drained his strength.

"Now I'm going to check your reflexes," she said, “So let's sit on the examination table.”

Mitch complied, feeling a mix of emotions - embarrassment, discomfort, and anxiety. As he sat on the examination table, he tried to calm his nerves and focus on the doctor's instructions.

Taking out a small rubber hammer, the doctor placed her large hand on his thigh. Mitch's face flushed red again as he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with the proximity of the doctor's hand.

Suddenly, the doctor swung the tiny hammer down just below his knee. Mitch's leg jerked involuntarily in response to the tap, and the doctor made a note on her clipboard. She repeated the process on the other leg, and then moved on to testing Mitch's arm reflexes. As the doctor worked, Mitch couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability.