Toothpaste: Part One

Nicky Noxville

All my stories take place in a parallel world, very similar to our own, where STI’s do not exist, so my stories are filled with practices that are highly unsafe in this world. I’m not going to say don’t try this at home, but take care of yourself.

All my characters are of legal age, and you should be, too—do not read my stories if you are under the legal age in your country/area. Any resemblance to real persons, locations, or events is entirely coincidental.

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And now, our feature presentation…

Tap, tap, tap. My foot wouldn’t stop. My eyes kept drifting from one cheesy dental health poster to the next. Going to the dentist was a nightmare for me; they barely had to look into my mouth to trip my gag reflex. I started to feel sick to my stomach just thinking about what was about to come.

This was going to suck.

“Dustin Jones,” the receptionist called from behind the counter. I stood, tugged my t-shirt back down, and crossed to the counter.

“That’s me.” I confessed.

“Room three, please.” He nodded his head to my left, indicating the hallway past a swinging door.

“Uh, thanks.” His attention had already returned to his computer. I took a deep breath and turned to face my doom. The hallway past the door was bare, painted white, with doors on my right and windows on my left. I walked slowly, looking out the windows as I walked. One, I passed the first door. There was a narrow courtyard outside the glass, shady and peaceful, with vines climbing the cinder block walls. Door number two, my stomach lurched. I turned to look out the next window. There was a fountain against the wall, water falling into shell shaped tiers, small amounts splashing over the edge to bedew the flowers blooming at its base.


I opened the door and stepped into the room. The walls were painted cobalt blue, with framed landscapes instead of dental posters. There was the usual dentist chair to one side, but also a couple of normal desk chairs. I swallowed, feeling like I was trying to swallow an egg made of sandpaper. I looked into the mirror over the sink. Maybe it was stress, or just the light, but I looked paler than usual. I ran my fingers through my messy hair, sweeping it back out of my face, then chose one of the desk chairs, rolling it a short distance from the others. My eyes locked onto the dental chair with it’s attached light on a metal arm. My hands were shaking.

The door opened.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jones. I’m Doctor Reynolds. I stood to shake his hand, conscious of my sweaty palm. He seemed to notice as well.

“Are you feeling nervous?” he asked me.

“Uh, yeah. A little.” His eyes were locked on mine, and I could only meet them for a few moments before looking down. I wiped my palms on my jeans.

“Any particular reason?” he asked. His voice was deep, yet soft. The melodic way he spoke seemed to help me feel a little more comfortable. When I didn’t answer, he patted me on the back and indicated I should sit back in the desk chair. “There’s no need to worry; you’re in good hands.”

“It’s… I just have a really bad gag reflex,” I confessed. “Every time I go to the dentist I end up vomiting.” I stared at my feet. “I can’t even tell you what a nightmare braces were.”

“Oh, is that all?” he asked, sending a rush of blood to my face. “Not to worry, it happens all the time. We actually have a new toothpaste that can help you with that, if you’re interested in overcoming that reflex.”

“Toothpaste can help with that?” I looked up at him, meeting the deep blue of his eyes for a moment more before looking back at my feet.

“Yes. It’s similar to how they have a toothpaste for sensitive teeth. It hasn’t been released on the open market yet, so you’re lucky you came here; we’re one of the few clinics in the country to have it.”

“That… That would be great. Honestly, I gag myself even brushing my teeth…” I trailed off, not having planned on telling him that.

“Not to worry. I’ll have a tube waiting for you at reception. Just follow the directions on the tube and schedule a follow up when you’ve finished it.” He picked up a phone and starting telling the receptionist what to get together. I didn’t pay attention to what he was saying, caught up on the idea of being able to brush without gagging. The appointment went smoothly after that… Well, as smooth as usual. Every time I would gag he’d just remind me that the toothpaste was going to fix that and that I could relax…

“Doc. Reynolds said to grab some toothpaste from you,” I told the receptionist on the way out. I was relieved that it was over, but the muscles in my stomach were still aching from dry-heaving. At least I didn’t actually throw up this time. He looked up at me with a huge smile on his face and handed me a small paper sack.

“Enjoy. We’ll see you at your follow up.” Something about his grin sent a chill down my spine, but he was looking back at his screen already, so I figured I’d imagined it.

When I got home, I opened the paper sack and looked inside. I reached in and pulled out a small tube of toothpaste and a strange toothbrush. “How the hell am I going to brush my teeth with this?” I wondered. It was thick and rounded, with soft bristles. I’ll have to open my mouth wider to keep it from tripping my reflex. I shrugged, trusting that the dentist knew his stuff, and willing to try almost anything at this point. The tube itself was plain and silver, with a printed sticker reading “Anti-Gag Reflex Toothpaste: Brush at least three times daily with special brush for 90 seconds or more. Brush tongue and swallow for best results.”

I went into the bathroom and wet the strange brush. I opened the tube and squeezed a line onto the bristles. The paste was a vivid purple, with flecks of other colors in it. I brought it below my nose and inhaled; it smelled good. I took a few more deep breaths, enjoying the smell.

I parted my lips to expose my teeth and started brushing the paste onto them, spreading it throughout my mouth. It was tingly, filling my mouth with bubbles. I opened wider and started brushing the back sides of my teeth, moving back to my molars. The tingling sensation was spreading, filling my head. My eyes met my own in the mirror, and I was grinning as I worked the brush around inside my mouth. I stopped thinking. I didn’t gag myself, even once. I was about to spit and rinse when I remembered the instructions saying I should be sure to brush my tongue, so I started to work the paste across my tongue, massaging it with the soft bristles while keeping my mouth open wide. I spaced out for a few moments, coming out of it when I tripped my gag reflex, the brush all the way on the back of my tongue. I jerked it out and spat, watching the purple foam swirl down the drain.

Fuck! I was supposed to swallow it!

My head was swimming a little, I reached for my rinsing glass out of habit, but stopped, my fingers a few inches away. I swallowed the residue of the toothpaste, enjoying the tingling sensation as it spread from my mouth and down my throat.

I laid down in bed, thinking about how much better that had been, compared to past brushings. I kind of wanted to brush again already, but that was stupid. I drifted off to sleep, a goofy smile on my face, almost feeling high.

I had amazing dreams that night. I forgot them as soon as I woke up, but I could remember that they had something to do with not having a gag reflex. I had been able to… had been… I shook my head, unable to remember. I flipped back the covers and gasped as they moved across my morning wood. I was super hard… Fuck! I noticed a wet spot on the sheets, and that my cock was streaming precum. I gripped my shaft, losing myself in the sensations washing through my body. I didn’t realize how loudly I was moaning until there was a knock on the door.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Oh, shit! My roommate!

“Uh, sorry,” I yelled, still beating my meat, “I was having a strange dream.” It had never felt so good before!

“Keep it down, I’m trying to sleep.” He yelled through the door, his voice groggy. I stifled a moan as I started to cum all over myself.

“Okay!” I yelled back, cum splashing all the way up to my chest. I lay there panting for a few minutes before grabbing my underwear from the day before and cleaning myself off. I got up, put on my bathrobe, and went down the hall to the bathroom to brush my teeth again.

I squeezed the toothpaste onto the strange brush, bringing it up to my nose to take a deep whiff. I sighed, and slid the rounded brush into my mouth. I watched myself in the mirror while I brushed, enjoying the bubbles that filled my head.

“Dustin, you almost done? I’ve got to piss!” I snapped out of it, realizing that I was sucking on the brush, sliding my tongue around the soft bristles. To clean it, of course. I remembered to swallow this time, the tingles filling my insides.

“Be out in a sec,” I called. I almost walked out with my robe wide open. I blushed, tying the robe closed so that my erection was held against my body, and let him have the bathroom. I had to get dressed for class.

I remembered the toothpaste as I was walking out the door. It said to brush at least three times a day, so I’d need to take it to campus with me. I grabbed the toothpaste and strange brush, sticking them in my backpack before heading out the door.

My first class passed in a blur. I wasn’t really paying attention to my professor. I was distracted by the bubbles filling my insides. It was nice. I had thirty minutes to get to my next class, so I stopped in the bathroom to brush my teeth again. I squeezed a healthy line onto the brush and started the routine again. My eyes settled on my own crotch, eyeing the swelling bulge as I slid the cylindrical toothbrush in and out of my mouth. A guy walked out of a stall and started washing his hands next to me.

“That’s kind of a faggy toothbrush,” the guy said, looking at me sideways. I got a little pissed off that some stranger would say something like that to me. I was no faggot. I swallowed so that I could respond to him.

“My dentist says I have to use it, for medical reasons.”

“Did you just swallow your toothpaste? Ew!” He looked disgusted.

“I have to, look, it’s on the instructions.” He didn’t bother.

“Whatever, faggot,” he said quietly as he left the bathroom. I was pissed and wanted to follow him, but I hadn’t finished yet. I squeezed more paste on the brush and started brushing my teeth again.

I swallowed again, grabbing the counter when I started to stumble. That was strange. The world got swimmy for a moment. I steadied myself and went on to my next class. My seat was in the back, and again I didn’t pay much attention. I must just be tired.

I wonder if the toothpaste is working. I brought my index finger up to my mouth and slid it in, seeing how far in it would go. It was all the way down, and I was fine. I pulled it out, wiping the spit from my lips with a sleeve. I put my index and middle fingers together and slid them in. This stuff was working! I moved my fingers around my mouth and didn’t feel like gagging, even once! I was starting to get some funny looks, so I pulled them out and pretended to pay attention to the lecture.

I brushed my teeth between every class that day. It was way more than three times, but this stuff was working so well, and the tube didn’t have any kind of warning. It just said AT LEAST three times.

After my shower that night, I started brushing while staring at my naked body in the mirror. My eyes settled on my cock, hard and leaking, while I slid the brush all the way to the back of my throat before pulling it almost all the way out, repeatedly.

My first thought the next morning was that I should brush my teeth. I didn’t want to somehow forget and go to class with bad breath! I walked to the bathroom, forgetting my robe, and started the routine. While I was brushing, I started to play with my morning wood.

Shit! It felt so good. In and out went the brush while I fisted my erection. I came into the sink, swallowing around the brush before I pulled it out. I rinsed it off, making sure all of my cum went down the drain. I should get some of this for Angela… I bet she’d like blowing me more if she never had to gag on my dick. I slid three fingers into my mouth, testing my lack of gag reflex once again.

That day passed exactly like the one before. I had so much trouble paying attention and brushed my teeth between all my classes. As I was leaving the last class, I stopped by a bathroom to brush one more time before I went home. The sinks were both taken.

Wait, I don’t really need a sink. I went into a stall, pulled down my pants, and started to brush my teeth again. I noticed a hole in the stall wall, but didn’t think much of it.

Until some guy slid his cock through it.

I kept brushing my teeth and staring at it. I don’t know how long it bobbed there, but I realized what was going on and snapped out of it, jerking the brush from my mouth and swallowing the toothpaste.

“Ungh,” I groaned, “Nnn…Nasty!” I got up and walked out of the bathroom quickly, sucking the last of the toothpaste off the brush in the hallway. I was supposed to meet my girlfriend for dinner, but I sent her a text to cancel. I just didn’t feel like it.

When I got home, I took off all of my clothes and laid down on my bed to jerk off for a little while. I started sliding my fingers in my mouth again while I played with myself, my cock getting a little harder when I did. I came so hard that it sprayed all across my body and onto my face, some of it hitting the hand that was testing my gag reflex. I pushed them in again, the taste of my own cup filling my mouth. It was kind of a gross thing to do, but it actually tasted good. I kept scooping cum from my body and sucking it off my own fingers. Exhausted, I passed out.

The next morning I started brushing my teeth in bed while I jerked off. I didn’t really need a sink, since I was supposed to swallow. When I was close to cumming, I remembered the cock sliding through the hole in the bathroom stall the day before. I bet I could have taken the whole thing. This toothpaste is great! If I knew any fags, I’d tell them to use it. I showered myself in cum again, this time wiping it up with the brush before sucking it from the bristles.

I was packing up to head to class when I realized that the tube was nearly empty. I wouldn’t make it to tomorrow if I brushed between all my classes today! How had I used it all so fast? I called and set up a follow up appointment for the afternoon. The guy on the phone didn’t seem surprised that I’d gone through it so fast, so it was probably fine. After I made the appointment, I called Angela to break up with her. She started crying and kept asking what was wrong. I told her that it wasn’t her, it was me. I just didn’t love her.

“Did you seriously just tell me ‘it’s not you, it’s me?’ Go fuck yourself!” She hung up, and I felt a bit relieved that it was over. I could still make it to two of my classes before I had to leave for my appointment, and there was just enough toothpaste left to brush in between.

I sat in my car, about to leave campus, and squeezed the last of the toothpaste onto the brush. I’d have to get more from the dentist. I didn’t want my gag reflex to come back, after all.

To be continued…

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