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ofapesandmen · 1 month

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Due For A Thorough Probe

—★ Dr Cornelius/M!Reader

[medicalplay, petplay, prostate milking]

The cold, hard wood was grounding. Comforting in a strange way under your fingertips. Flexing closed and open, scraping your nails against it. You couldn't help the shivers that moved in teasing waves across your skin.

Why was it always so cold?

A hand—warm and tender—placed itself between your shoulder blades. Your arms buckled beneath the weight. Not of the hand but of the presence of its owner.

"Let us begin, yes?"

He wasn't talking to you. You were... not of great consideration for conversation. At least for now that was your role. Merely an animal, a pet. Like the other humans.

He talked to you with the same cadence one would to a dog or mouse. Never actually expecting an answer in return. Silence was your grace, your virtue.

The hand on your back moved slowly, deliberately. Tracing your spine with a delicate touch. You shivered. You tried to control your breathing. The doctor did so dislike difficult to handle patients.

Silence. Stillness. Submission.

The hand caressed you, petting an invisible coat before finally it made its way to your rump. A moment passed by. Your uneven breaths echoing in the room.

"Don't be scared. This is a perfectly normal and natural procedure for humans."

His voice coaxed you to trust him. The confidence and knowledge evident in his tone. Years of practice and study weighed his cadence to a comforting octave. It rang in your ears. You breathed out hot air, shaky and heavy.

Cold and hot at the same time, a single thick finger carefully pressed up against your asshole. It lingered there, at the precipice, as though taunting. Teasing you.

Before you could prepare yourself, the finger pushed in and you released the breath you'd been holding. Your gasp was followed by a whimper. The muscles in your arms flexed, trying your best to hold your own weight. You suddenly felt so dizzy. As though sleep were a stranger to you.

Your brows furrowed and you heaved a shaky sigh as the finger dug deeper, caressing your inner walls with the same ease and care that he had trailed his hand along your back with.

It felt... good. It felt good. It was slow, meticulously so. Almost wandering, as though looking for something. And suddenly one became two. And suddenly—

"Fuck!"

He found it.

Your arms trembled and finally gave in. Your chest now lying on the examination table, the wood grating against your heated skin. Your eyes fluttered as you felt the pressure, the shock, run through your nerves.

You thanked whatever monkey was up there in the heavens that the good doctor decided to forgive your momentary forgetfulness of your place. At least verbally. His fingers, however, continued to press up against that something devilish inside you with much vigour. Stroking, caressing, prodding.

You couldn't close your mouth. The waterfall of moans and whines kept it open while you struggled to see from beneath your tear stained lashes. The salt burned your eyes.

It was so good. His fingers felt so good. You could taste it. At the tip of your tongue, in the saliva that pooled at the corners of your mouth, in the tears that ran down your cheeks. You were almost there but it was too much. A long broken whine escaped your throat, an octave higher than what you'd concider dignified.

"Hush, now. You're a big boy. You can handle it."

Surely the doctor knew best but in your pain and pleasure addled mind you were conceived you were an inch away from death itself. The tantalising way he brushed his fingers against your prostate would kill you, you were sure of it.

And then—the cruel bastard that he was—you felt his other hand gently touch your stomach, feeling the flutter of your muscles. It trailed along your abdomen before ever so carefully wrapping itself around your cock. A slow rhythmic pace of stroke after stroke. One deep inside you, another along your throbbing shaft.

This was it. You would die here. You would lose your mind here and now. And it would all be his fault, him and those cruel hands of his.

“Please, please, please, please…"

You weren't even aware you were talking. A chant of forgiveness for your disobedience but you were so close.

All you got in return was a warm, almost mockingly sweet, chuckle. Both of his hands became rougher, deeper, harder. The hand around your cock thumbed at the tip and the one inside you pressed and massaged into you.

You gave one last weak moan as the electric shocks reached an overflow. You spasmed, muscles tensing as your back arched. You pushed and pulled yourself against and away from his fingers. Apart from one and into the other.

A sequence of hoarse gasps and whines left your lungs in ragged breaths as you emptied your balls onto the table. His fingers continued to milk you through your orgasm. And then finally… The fingers retracted themselves, stopping the torturous onslaught of pleasure.

“Everything's working as normal. I'd go as far as to say this examination was a terrific success.”

You heard the scribbling of pen on paper before the world went black and—you assumed—you took your last breath.

“Well, now. How dramatic you are...”

#ofapesandmen #oaam works #oaam writing #dr cornelius #dr cornelius x reader #planet of the apes 1968 #planet of the apes

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1emon1ime · 1 month

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A routine check-up - Dr. Cornelius (1960's POTA) x Female Reader

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58315063

( Ok, so I just HAD to write this because I couldn't find anyone else who made one yet. He is so hot-- !? And I have always sort of loved the idea of being a powerless/mute/feral human where another species has all of the control. Anyway, enjoy!

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Warning: Pet play (kind of?), dubcon, power imbalance, regression etc basically you (reader) are a mute/feral human who cannot consent and the ape leaders have all of the power over you. But you enjoy being touched up by Corn ♡

Taken from the wild and housed in the human containment facility, you now live your life in a cage every day to be experimented on by apes. A new face comes to take you into the examination room and he is quite different from the others.

"I'm here for specimen number 37."

The guards nod in acknowledgement, recognizing the name of Cornelius. He responds, "Zira has informed us of your visit for a routine check-up. Proceed with your research, and be careful with the specimen."

Cornelius approaches the cage and carefully opens it, his movements slow and deliberate to avoid alarming you. He gestures for you to come out.

Baring your teeth at him, you slowly back up into a corner. He is unfamiliar and many of the apes in the human containment facility are abusive, uncaring for your well-being. Of course you would be distrustful of a new face.

Since your capture, you had been housed here, alone in your pen for several months now, your naked body only kept clean by an ape hosing you down every day, throwing some slop into your food dish. You had no mental stimulation apart from the few times a week where they would put you through some sort of 'test'. You hated these check-ups, you were not ready to hand yourself over to him without a fight, even though you knew that punishment would come at your resistance. It always did.

He stops his approach, recognizing the defensiveness nature of your reaction. He regards you with a mixture of caution and fascination, sensing your instinctive distrust.

"Easy now," he speaks, keeping his voice gentle and calm. "I'm not here to harm you.”

Truthfully, he did not care much for these creatures. From an early age, he had been taught that they were nothing more than pests, vicious animals. But there was a striking resemblance in the recent fossilized remains that he had discovered. Cornelius just had to compare the two. Zira had offered one of her test subjects as a comparison, she had said that this one was quite ‘tame’, agreeable, with a willingness to work and yet Cornelius still could not coax you out of the cage. Had he gotten the wrong subject, perhaps?

He offers you a sugar cube, notices how you hesitate for a moment before cautiously taking it. He observes your reaction, glad that the sugar seems to have piqued your interest.

"There," he hushes, a hint of a smile on his lips. "See? I'm not going to hurt you.”

You look back at him, eyes widening slightly in anticipation for what he had to offer.

“I'll make sure you're comfortable and unharmed during this examination." He says, more to himself than anything. He knows that humans cannot speak. Cannot understand complex language.

The gorilla guard in the back smirks at his failed attempts to lure you out. Clearly, the archaeologist hadn't much experience with these humans.

"You gotta be rough with them. Never give these animals a chance or they will attack you." He laughs.

Cornelius brushes off the guard's comment and moves closer to you, holding out his hand. He had his own technique, he never liked how brutal the guards could be. They may have been animals, but they could still feel pain.

"Come on, then," he coaxes. "Let's go to the examination room, and I'll make sure you get another sugar cube when we're done."

He carefully places a collar and leash around your neck, ensuring that it's not too tight and won't harm you. He then leads you to his examination room, taking a few moments to assess the setup before turning to face you.

"Alright," he says, gesturing for you to sit on a padded table in the centre of the room. "Please sit,” he pats the table, you recognize the signal as you had been taught. “and we can begin this comparison."

All he has is a leash around your neck, he hopes that it is enough and that he wouldn't need to restrain you further--

Your eyes dart to the other, larger examination table to the left, that you had been placed on many times. The one with the straps and restraints attached to it; you cower upon seeing it. Unwanted memories flooding of all the times you had been under that blinding, florescent light. Head throbbing as they tugged at you, the sound of medical equipment clinking together-- It was too much to see it again.

You wanted to run, but he reassured you, calmly. gripping onto one of your arms and shushing you.

We will only be sitting on the small table today.

As you sit, nervously, Cornelius takes a few steps back and studies your features, particularly focusing on your facial structure and bone anatomy. He occasionally looks over a set of documents and diagrams next to him, presumably related to the fossilized remains he mentioned earlier.

Dr. Zaius would scold him again if he ever brought it up; he had been told to discard the evidence, burn it. Acknowledging that similar these humans were in any way to apes themselves. It was forbidden by all means.

They were lesser. Pests, animals.

"Now then," he says, breaking the silence. "Let me take a quick look at your teeth."

Cornelius moves closer to you again, his focus now shifting to your teeth. He takes hold of your chin, gently and carefully guiding your head to the side so he can get a better look. His fingers are warm and surprisingly gentle as they touch your skin, his touch almost comforting in a small way.

"Open wide," he instructs, his voice still soft but authoritative. He taps his own mouth and again, you understand the gesture you had been taught to obey.

Cornelius peers into your mouth, examining your teeth closely. He looks at their shape, size, and condition, comparing them to the notes he's taking. He makes a few observations, nodding in acknowledgement.

"That's it, good--"

Cornelius' eyes quickly flit over your body, taking quick note of your sex.

"girl. Good girl."

He reaches for his papers again.

"Ah, a female specimen," he muses to himself, making a quick note. "The physical features and bone structures are slightly different than the males we've discovered."

After finishing his examination of your teeth, Cornelius steps back again, his gaze lingering on your features. He takes a few more moments to scrutinize your body, careful eyes tracing over the curves and features that distinguish you as a female. Contemplating the differences and similarities he's observed between you and the fossilized remains and of… himself.

No, no. He quickly brushes it off. He is to remain professional here at all costs.

"Now, I need to look at the rest of your physical features," he says, his voice slightly firmer. "Please stand up and extend your arms." He makes the command signal.

You comply and stand up, slowly extending your arms as Cornelius instructed. He steps closer once again, moving slowly as to not startle you. He begins to observe and compare the proportions and bone structures of your arms.

"Hmm," he muses, his eyes fixed on your arms, taking out a measuring tape to record the length of the bones. "Yes, quite interesting. The humerus and ulna seem quite similar in length, although--"

There is one problem. The fossils he had, seemed to be from a male specimen. It would have made more sense to compare them with a male human.

Had he perhaps taken the wrong subject? It said here on his documents, number 37. They couldn't have gotten it messed up again--

Well, it was too late to discard all of this now. He would finish examining your body and take records anyway. Perhaps they would prove useful in the future.

He takes a few steps back again, his expression contemplative. A strong, muscular frame, fitting for survival in the wild. You had not been captive long enough for your muscles to atrophy, as a lot of the other human animals had.

That is where you had been caught, out in the fields, brought in from the wild several months ago. The tale of your capture had been quite brutal and yet, you were not as skittish as the other wild-caught ferals.

Despite the clinical nature of the examination, there is a subtle hint of admiration and intrigue in Cornelius' gaze. He regards your body with a mix of scientific curiosity and appreciation for the rarity of finding a specimen like you.

"Alright," he says, breaking the brief silence. "We're almost done. I just need to take a look at your back and spinal region next."

As Cornelius moves behind you to examine your spine, he notices your slight shiver at his touch. He realizes that despite your feral nature, there is an undeniable response to his touch.

"Are you cold?" he asks, his voice gentler than before. "Or is my touch making you uncomfortable?"

Cornelius knows that he will get no response, yet reassures you anyway, continuing to gently feel your back and spine. He notes the subtle trembling at his touch as his hands ghost over the area that connects your spine to your neck. He wonders if it's related to fear, cold, or perhaps another reaction he hasn't considered.

Observing your subtle response, he notices how you seem to lean into his touch, almost seeking it out. He raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your behavior. Despite your feral nature, there's a certain sensuality in your reaction to his touch.

"Interesting," he muses, his hands continuing to move over your neck, rubbing circles, as if you were a pet. "It seems you're not as resistant to physical touch as I thought."

He continues his examination, but his touch becomes a bit less clinical and more... soothing. He can't help but be intrigued by your reaction, the way you close your eyes and nod, seemingly enjoying the contact. His fingers move over your skin, the touch growing a bit more gentle and caressing.

"Does this feel good?" he asks, his tone softer than before. "You're remarkably responsive for a feral."

He knows that he shouldn't be doing this, it's wrong to treat these animals in any way other than contempt, they can't even consent, for goodness sake. But he can't stop his fingers continuing to caress you, running under your chin and stroking you softly. His touch slowly becoming more intimate and less clinical. Despite the professional aspect of the examination, there is something almost erotic in the way he touches you.

His hands begin to explore your back further, moving from your shoulders down to the small of your back, his touch growing more gentle. He can't deny the sensations he feels, the way you respond to his touch stirring something in him.The little mewls you let escape your mouth as he runs his hands over your bare flesh.

"Such a responsive and sensual creature..." he says to himself, his voice a low rumble.

Cornelius' hand continues to move lower, his touch now trailing over your thighs. He takes note of your low moan, a wave of heat coursing through him at the sound.

"Sensitive, too," he murmurs under his breath, fingers gently caressing your flesh. "I believe we're going to need to continue this examination further."

Cornelius steps closer to you, the heat of his body radiating against your back as his hands explore your front. What is he doing, he doesn't think he can stop himself at this point. His hand remains on your thigh, his touch now becoming more deliberate and exploratory. His breath is hot against your ear, causing you to shiver slightly.

"There's more I need to examine," he says, his voice low and sultry. There's a sense of urgency to it. "Turn around for me."

Cornelius steps back and motions you to face him, giving a slight tug on your leash. His hand leaves your thigh, but the absence of his touch is quickly replaced by a strange sense of anticipation.

You wonder what he could possibly be doing... None of your previous examinations had gone quite like this. While Dr. Zira could be quite... touchy, something told you that this was going to be different still.

He watches you expectantly, his eyes locked on yours, waiting to continue the "examination".

As you face him from the front, Cornelius feels a rush of excitement surging through him. The way you respond to his touch... it's unlike anything he's experienced with any other specimen before.

"Now," he says, his voice gruff and filled with a hint of desire. "I need to examine the front of your body."

Cornelius closes the distance between you and he. His hand reaches out slowly and gently grasps your hips, pulling your body closer to his own. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and arousal. He continues to explore your body with his hands, his touch becoming more familiar as he moves down to your stomach, hips, and thighs. His fingers linger on certain spots, caressing and squeezing gently, as though trying to commit every curve and muscle to memory.

He notices your squeak when he accidentally touches a particularly sensitive spot, and a small smile curves his lips. He can't help but sense your craving for touch, the need for physical contact that was previously lacking in your caged, solitary existence.

"A little sensitive there, are we?" he says, his voice amused, but not mocking.

His hands continue to move over your body, slowly and deliberately, as though he's trying to coax more responses from you. He notices the way you lean into his touch, the way your body reacts to his caresses.

"You seem to be quite... touch deprived," he says, his voice dropping to a deep, low murmur. "You must have been longing for physical contact like this, hmm?"

As Cornelius explores your body, the air grows thicker with tension. You can feel his desire radiating from him, and the intensity of his gaze only heightens the anticipation. You can't deny your own arousal, the heat and need building within you. The touch you had been denied for so long.

His hands slowly trail up to your chest, cupping your breasts in his palms. He squeezes gently, his thumbs teasing your nipples, coaxing them into stiff peaks. He notices the way your breathing changes, the way your body responds to his touch.

He continues to tease your nipples, his fingers gently pinching and rolling them, eliciting more responses from you. He's enthralled by your reaction, the way you push yourself into his hands, your eyes closed and lips parted in pleasure.

"Do you like that?" he asks, his voice rough. "Does it feel good?"

You nod, offering a silent acceptance.

Cornelius' hand moves lower, his fingers slowly travelling down your stomach and then lower, until they're dipping between your thighs. He strokes your folds, feeling the slickness there. He slips a finger inside you, feeling the heat and tightness, and a small groan escapes your lips, hips instinctively bucking forward for more.

"So tight," he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours as he pushes a second finger in.

His fingers continues to probe and explore, his movements slow and deliberate. He pushes deeper inside you, and you let out a moan, unable to hold back. As he works his fingers in and out of you, you can't help but writhe against him, desperate for more friction.

As he continues his exploration of your body, the air thick with arousal, you're overwhelmed by the sensations. Cornelius' hand is between your legs, his fingers buried inside you, working you closer and closer to the edge. You're so close, the tension building in your core, and all it takes is a few more thrusts of his fingers and a brush of his thumb over your clit to send your touch deprived body spiralling over the edge.

Your release crashes over you in waves, and Cornelius is there to guide you through it, his fingers slowly withdrawing, but his embrace is still firm.

"That's it," he says, his voice gentle and encouraging. "Just let go. I've got you."

After a few moments, you're able to catch your breath and compose yourself. Cornelius is holding you, his body pressed close to yours. His grip loosens and his hands slide down your sides, resting on your hips.

Cornelius finally releases you, and takes a step back, still holding the leash in one hand, his eyes sweep over your body for the final time.

"We'll continue later," he says, his voice low and heavy with promise. "You should get some rest. Come on, back to your pen."