Once upon a time when I was so much younger than before, I woke up on a Sunday morning with a searing pain coming from deep inside my anus. This was no two bit little annoyance that would go away after a good wash and a good bowel movement (or the other way around I guess). Good grief no ! Alternatively it felt like someone had stuck a red hot needle into my backside or else as if my rectum was being freeze dried from the inside out. Without exaggerating it was the worst physical pain I had ever experienced up till that time and not much has been worse afterwards either. It was all I could do to get out of bed and stagger to the bathroom. Walking was torture and so was sitting down. If I lay back down it was just as bad.
Of course I figured that I knew what was going on. Hemorrhoids run in the family and both my parents regularly suffered from that awful affliction. Since I was dimly aware of the consequences of Mendel’s laws of heredity, I figured that my time had come (somewhat too soon I ruefully bemoaned, but inevitably nonetheless).
I was still living at home then, that’s how long ago it was, so I manfully begged my mother for some form of relief. All she could do was give me some Preparation H and advise me to bathe my bottom in a tub of ice cold water regularly until I could see a doctor.
The pain kept up all day long and I dutifully lowered my behind into a tub of water filled with ice cubes several times that Sunday. It was a wonder I didn’t catch pneumonia of the rectum or some such thing, but all the cooling and chilling just temporarily numbed my outsides and didn’t stop the burning on the inside.
Monday I phoned a specialist. It took some undignified begging and pleading but I finally succeeded in wrangling an appointment for Friday afternoon of the same week. I could not imagine my making it through the next five days without either going stark raving mad or sliding into a self induced coma, but somehow I managed. I even attended classes and was able to do a passable imitation of the normal half-assed student that I was. Nobody noticed (or commented on) my prissy gait and reluctance to engage in any kind of physical activity. I just sat on my seat for the whole week and actually paid attention to what was being said for lack of anything else to do.
Gradually however, the pain receded and by Friday I felt only a slight irritation (huzzah for the miracle ingredient in Preparation H !). However, my parents example made sure that I kept my appointment. I wanted to eradicate the problem before it became untreatable. Believe me, I wasn’t at all eager to submit to the inevitable anal examination, but I wasn’t planning on having a hemorrhoid problem plague me for the rest of my life either. So off I went to the doctor’s office.
There were three people in the waiting room when I entered, all of them female. The specialist I was seeing shared office space with a gynecologist and I sincerely hoped that these patients were aware of this. The ladies looked at me somewhat askance and then went back to their magazines and/or knitting, the silence and frowns that followed commenting on their uncharitable thoughts.
I didn’t have long to wait thank goodness. Before the other patients were called I was allowed to see the doctor. That was my first surprise of the day. Sitting behind a desk was a very good looking middle aged lady. She had dark hair cut in a pageboy style and was carefully but discretely made up. Her glossed lips smiled at me as she invited me to sit down. This was going to be something else I thought. Nobody had told me the specialist Ihad an appointment with was female. I was nervous as I glanced around the office, taking in an examination table complete with stirrups and other medical apparatus. Of course doctors are used to receiving apprehensive patients and putting them at ease. This one put all her charm to work on me, she obviously saw that I was going to need it.
“Well now, what’s the problem ?” she cheerfully asked, getting out a new file and taking a pen to hand.
Ever since making the appointment on Monday I had been rehearsing what I would say in the most dignified manner possible. Now it was all forgotten as I foolishly stared at the wall. Summoning up courage I rapidly told her that I was suffering from hemorrhoids.
“I see,” she said and then began to question me. Were they external or internal ? Was there any bleeding ? She noted my answers and then cheerfully told me that she was going to take a look. This I dreaded, but I saw no way out of it. Mercifully she did not make me undress but only told me drop my pants and briefs and then kneel down on the examination table and place my head down on the surface. I then heard her pulling on latex gloves and felt a daub of something cool on my anus. She told me to relax and then quickly shoved a small object into my rectum. It rightly guessed that it was a type of colonscope but out of consideration she apparently chose the smallest model she had. The examination was not painful and it was over before I knew it.
She withdrew the probe, cleaned the lubricant off with a tissue and informed me that I could step down and pull up my trousers.
Grateful that it had all been so easy and dignified (comparatively speaking) I sat back down and waited for the doctor to give me her verdict. She entered some notes in my file and then took a blank piece of paper. I detected a faint trace of a smile on her lips as she drew a rough sketch of her findings. Finished, she turned the page around for me to study.
“I can’t draw all that well,” she pointed at her rough illustration, “but this is a sketch of the anal sphincter and lower rectum. You have received a rather nasty cut along the inner muscle running lengthwise. Something like this can be very painful of course and needs to be taken care of. On the other hand though, luckily, I didn’t find any trace of hemorrhoids.”
Slowly, as I understood what the doctor was saying I turned a deep beet red and began to slowly slide lower into the chair. If only the earth would open up and swallow me. I had never been so utterly mortified in my whole life. I could think of nothing to say. She looked at me questioningly.
“Do you have any idea how that occurred ?” she pleasantly asked.
Of course I did and I cursed myself in every language I could think of for not realizing the cause of my suffering before. The previous Saturday evening my girlfriend and I had engaged in a lustful and passionate bout of good old fashioned fucking. I had urged her to stick a finger up my bottom and apparently her untrimmed fingernail had cut a gash in my anal sphincter. Because I did not feel any pain until the next morning I hadn’t connected the two.
Since I was at a total loss for words the doctor continued.
“Well, did you insert anything sharp or rough into your bottom while masturbating ?” she asked.
It was all I could do to shake no.
“Was your boyfriend too rough or brisk on you then ?” she continued.
My God, I thought, she thinks I’m gay. How did I ever get into this ?
“No, no,” I finally managed to blurt out, “I think my girlfriend cut me with her nails the last time we eh….”
“Had sex ?” she finished for me.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I see. OK then, I’ll prescribe some suppositories for you to take daily. They are iodine based to prevent any infection from occurring. I want you use them three times a day, morning, night and after your bowel movements. Wash thoroughly and try to refrain from anal stimulation for a while. OK ?” she cheerfully asked.
“Good, now I’d like you to come back in two weeks time so I can check up on how your scar is healing. Now this very is important, because it wouldn’t do to have any complications arise later in such a delicate part of your anatomy.”
Much as I never wanted to set foot in her office again, visions of contracting cancer of the anus or some other horrible disease danced through my head. I nodded, took the prescription, and left the office.
I felt that I had certainly made an ass out of myself, in more ways than one. Thinking back, I still don’t know why I thought I was suffering from something other than a cut asshole. My girlfriend was certainly a very enthusiastic lover, giving me her sexual favors unreservedly, but not a very refined one at the time. A good handjob or a nice straightforward fuck (if we could find the privacy) was more her style. I always had to coerce her into playing with my anus and she never much bothered with lubrication either. She usually just jammed her index finger up into me and got on with the other task at hand.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her what was really the matter with me, and besides I had been acting out the part of ‘the Hero Suffers from Hemorrhoids’ to perfection and didn’t know how to change my performance in mid-show. It was only some ten years later (after we had been married for a long time) that an occasion arose when I told her about it. As for my parents, well, they were seemingly pleased that I had found such a nice girl to bang (and hopefully marry) that I wasn’t up to telling them the down and out of this little problem either. So I just kept my mouth shut, usually the wisest thing to do.
But that is neither here nor there and has no further bearing on my story. I got my prescriptions filled, took my medicine, told my parents nor my girlfriend anything of the doctor’s findings and debated the wisdom of keeping my next appointment. In the end I went back, more out of fear of complications arising in later years than from anything else.
The doctor greeted me and asked if I had experienced any pain or discomfort since my last visit. Had I been taking my suppos regularly ? I answered truthfully and told her that I had hardly felt any pain for more than a week now and had only missed on my medication a few times.
“Good,” she replied, “Since you have little pain in your anal region I think that now we can do a more thorough exam than last time. That was a bit of an emergency, wasn’t it ?” she jokingly said. “Now if you could just step into the changing booth over there and get undressed, we can proceed.”
I had thought that this check-up was going to be a repeat of the last one : a few questions, drop my pants, modestly take a quick look at my ass and that would be it. But it didn’t look like this was going to ‘be it’. I was beginning to regret coming back for this appointment but saw no way of backing out gracefully. I entered the booth and removed all my clothes except for my underpants. The doctor asked if I was ready and if so to please step out. When she saw my briefs a frown of disapproval crossed her brow but she let it be for the while being.
The examination started out in the traditional manner : heart, lungs, blood pressure, reflexes, height, length and weight, all of these were measured or tested and the results written down by the doctor. She took a little more time in checking out my ears, nose and mouth. She stuck a short probe up my nasal passage and made me stick out my tongue while she inserted two fingers into my mouth and felt around the inside. It was a curiouslypleasant part of the examination and I began to relax and enjoy the feel of her fingers inside of my body. Another part of my anatomy decided that relaxation was out of the question and slowly but surely my prick stiffened, bulging out the thin fabric of my briefs. A darker little wet spot appeared where the head of my penis pressed against the underwear.
The doctor finished studying my mouth and noticed the stiffness of my sex organ.
“It’s not very practical for males to keep their undergarments on during an examination of this sort, you know,” she mildly admonished. “I think that we had better remove them now before it gets even more awkward. Besides you’ll have to be completely undressed for the main part of the examination anyway.”
Having me stand up she then took hold of the hem and pulled the backside lower at first, exposing my buttocks while forcing my erect penis to bend downwards. When my prick was free of the briefs it sprightly flipped back upwards, sticking straight out in front of me.
“There now,” she said, “Isn’t it more comfortable this way ?”
In a way it was, but I wasn’t going to say so out loud.
“Well everything seems to be more or less in order. Now we can get down to the matter at hand. However before we continue I want to clean you out.”
I misunderstood and thought that she said “clean me up”. Stupidly I said that I had washed before coming to her office. She didn’t actually laugh but just grinned at my naivet. She repeated what she had just said and placed the emphasis on the word ‘out’ this time. I wasn’t all too sure about what she really meant, but I had an uneasy feeling about what was in store for me next.
“I’ll take your temperature before and after just to make sure that I can proceed with the in-depth exam. Please turn around and bend over the table.” The doctor went to her cabinet and returned with a jar of something, a box of latex gloves and a large, thick thermometer. I realized that she was going to take my rectal temperature.
“Eh…. You know, doctor I’ve always had my temperature taken orally and I don’t know if I can do it this way.” I tried to plead. She would have none of it though and brushed my objections aside.
“Of course you can do it this way, I don’t see why not, there’s nothing difficult about it at all, all you have to do is stand still. Besides a rectal reading is much more accurate and it’s standard medical practice. Then again since you insist, I can do both.” And with that she went and got an oral thermometer and had me take it in my mouth. Meanwhile she had me bend over the table and pulled on the latex examination gloves. She opened the jar and stuck her finger inside. It was covered with a lubricating cream that she spread around my anus. She took a second generous daub and slowly worked her finger into my opening, probing firmly until my sphincter allowed it to pass. She asked if it was painful, did my injury hurt, but I said that I felt little pain. Just utter mortification.
She then took another jar containing a more liquid lubricant and dipped the tip of the thermometer into it. She liked to mix different types of lubricants she explained, since she had found that mixtures of oils, cream or jelly allowed for smoother and easier penetration.
“Just think of something else and relax now, “ the doctor advised and slid the instrument up my anus. It entered easily, just as she had predicted. “It takes about 4 minutes to register, so lay still and don’t go away.”
Where would I be going in this condition I wondered, trying to make light out of my predicament. While I was waiting for the 4 minutes to pass (it seemed like an eternity, but doesn’t it always when you’re enjoying yourself ?) I could hear the doctor taking out various objects and preparing them for use.
All the while I was still erect, my prick pressed against the table’s edge. I dared not stand up straight for fear of disturbing the instrument in my bottom, so I just waited and wondering why I had ever come back for this second appointment in the first place.
The doctor finally came back, took the oral thermometer out first, noted the reading and then removed the other one from my lower opening. She said that my temperature was normal with the usual 1 degree variance. I was surprised that there was a difference between the two and I guess my somewhat puzzled expression was easy to read.
“Oh yes ,” she explained without my asking, “The temperature in various parts of the body can differ quite markedly. That’s why it’s best to use a rectal reading for the mean body temperature. A vaginal reading is quite useful also, but that would be pretty difficult for you now, wouldn’t it ?”
Was this her idea of a joke ?
“Don’t be so alarmed, I’m only making a little joke,” she quickly replied after seeing the expression on my face. “But now that you mention it, it would be a good idea if I took your penile temperature as well. Then we’ll have all three main readings.”
How in the world was she ever going to do that I thought ? I imagined her fitting some kind of plastic bag over my prick but wasn’t clear on the procedure. And besides, I didn’t recollect ‘mentioning’ anything in the first place.
“Just sit down on the table while I get my instrument,” she told me, pointing to the padded surface of the examination table.
The doctor took an instrument from her glass lined cabinet and washed it thoroughly with a disinfecting agent. She put it in a tray along with a small bottle of lubricant and a box of sterile cotton swabs. When I saw the thin thermometer I knew where she was going to stick it.
“It’s all right, you won’t feel any discomfort when I insert this, just stay relaxed.” She took hold of my very stiff prick and realized that it was not relaxed at all. “Well I mean YOU relax, it doesn’t matter about your penis, this thermometer is designed for use in situations like this.”
I am uncircumcised so the doctor gripped the shaft of my penis and gently pulled downwards in order to expose more of my glans. It was already glistening wet from my own secretions. The doctor then poured some disinfecting solution onto a cotton swab and washed the tip of my penis. It felt cool and tingling, not unpleasant at all. She applied some of the same solution to the thin thermometer, dipped it into the lubricating jelly and told me to lean over backwards.
“It’s better if you don’t watch me insert this,” the doctor advised as she took hold of my glans with her left thumb and forefinger. She squeezed against the length of my urethra, forcing it open just a little. Then I felt the plastic tube sliding down into the inside of my penis. It was a curious sensation, mildly cold at first, then turning into a sensation of having to urinate. My prick twitched somewhat but the doctor kept a firm grip on it.
“There, that wasn’t hard at all, now was it ?” she asked without expecting a reply.
I just nodded and tried to relax, breathing through my mouth. I squirmed a bit, trying to find a more comfortable position but the doctor told me to hold still. She still kept a grip on my organ just below my glans and used her free hand to press upon my abdomen, forcing me to keep still. Incredibly it was the pressure on my lower belly which aroused me even more than her handling of my prick. I took deep breaths and tried to keep from looking at my penis, but the urge was too strong. The downward pressure of the doctors grip on my shaft had retractedmy prepuce completely, something I had not done often when I was young, due to the narrow opening of my foreskin and the extreme sensitivity of my uncircumcised glans. It was covered with liquids, both natural and artificial and was even more wet than after a good fuck. Sticking out of the tiny hole at the top was a thin tube and it wobbled around in the air, the small twitchings of my organ being magnified proportionately. I stared at my own sex organ, mesmerized by the sight. It was like seeing it for the first time.
Meanwhile, I was still leaning backwards and my arms began to tremble from being tensed so long. Noticing, the doctor looked at her watch and said that enough time had passed. She withdrew her hand form my abdomen and slowly withdrew the penile thermometer from my urethra. I felt a slight tingling sensation and the need to urinate, but that soon passed. My temperature was in the normal range for that part of my anatomy and it was duly noted in the doctor’s notes. She smiled at me like we had just completed a job well done.
“Good, that’s taken care of, you don’t have a temperature so you’ll be fit for the rest of the internal exam. But first I must clean you out.” she explained, once again putting the emphasis on ‘out’. “I have to prepare a few things so just sit tight.”
She went over to a sink, ran the faucet and filled a large canister. There was a length of rubber tubing attached to a valve at the bottom of the container. She added something to the water in the canister, stirred it and closed the top. Coming over to the examination table, she hooked it onto a metal I.V. holder that stood nearby.
“OK now, I want you to lie down on your side now……..”
I warily lay down
“…and to pull your top leg up unto your chest.” I felt extremely exposed even attempting to assume the position she wanted. “Bring your leg a little further to you chest please….. there that’s better. I’ll have to take a good look into your colon and for that it has to be thoroughly clean. So I’m going to let this warm water flow into you. Hold it up a while and when enough time has passed you can expel it. Understand ?”
She then oiled the nozzle attached to the tubing, rubbed some on my anus and pulled the top cheek of my buttocks open exposing my backside. The nozzle felt cool as she pressed it some 20 cm up my rectum. When the doctor let the water flow however, a warm glow and feeling of well-being inflated spread along my bowels and up inside of me. This took me quite by surprise.
“Haven’t you ever had an enema before ?” she asked noting my initial discomfort and astonishment. I said that I hadn’t. “It’s a very simple method of cleaning out the rectum and colon you know, and it’s a very pleasurable one also, if done right.”
Clearly she could read my thoughts, for she answered my questioning look. “It is, I’m not just saying this as a doctor’s thing you know. It is one of the oldest known medical procedures and has been practiced in many cultures. It is quite healthy and stimulating if you don’t over-indulge. If you weren’t so stiff already, you would have noticed that you can get quite a powerful erection from an enema. It’s because of the internal pressure on the prostate gland. There are many males who enjoy it immensely and do it as a form of sex play. Of course females can grow to like it just as well, though they usually have a somewhat greater reluctance to overcome. “
By now, all the water had flowed into me and the doctor withdrew the nozzle. She turned me over on my back and gently massaged my lower abdomen. “This is a cleaning enema so I put some soap into the water to help induce a bowel movement. Do you feel any cramping yet ?”
I did and told her that I couldn’t hold it much longer. “Oh yes you can, it hasn’t been in all that long. Sometimes the solution has to held in for up to an hour. But this is your first time so I want you to retain it for about five more minutes.”
I was allowed to sit up in the meantime and had to clench all my internal muscles to keep the water in. Luckily, I had had a regular movement that day, so that I only had a small amount of waste matter to expel. Even so it still took all my will power to wait until I was given permission to head for the bathroom.
I returned, much relieved and feeling better. After expelling the enema, my erection had subsided and I was now only half swollen.
The doctor had put away all the instruments used in giving the enema and asked me how I felt, if I wasn’t more relaxed now. As odd as it seemed I had to admit that I was calmer now about the prospect of being examined internally.
“Good,” she said, smiling as if having been proven right about something, “I told you it could be quite beneficial in more ways than one. I recommend that you make a habit of giving yourself one about once a month. Consider it a hygienic treatment if that will make you feel less inhibited. I’m sure you’ll soon look forward to it. I certainly do.”
I was a trifle amazed that she was telling me all this, but the doctor apparently saw nothing odd about it. Maybe this was her way of making small talk, of putting patients at ease. Of course by now I had just about lost all my initial sense of shame and I thought little of standing naked with a half erect prick in front of this very attractive lady. She had a totally matter of fact attitude and that combined with her sense of humor put me very much atease. I had the impression that she was enjoying herself, especially whenever I seemed surprised or at a loss for words. I think that she liked to explain what she was doing and why it was necessary to do it. In the days that followed I couldn’t help thinking about her often, and I sometimes wondered if she had the same habit of explaining things when having sex. I would have liked to find out, but of course never did.
“Now that we’re all set and you’ve been cleaned ‘out’, I guess we had better get on with the proper exam.” I had a feeling that she thought my little misunderstanding a very fine joke indeed and was not going to let me forget it.”
She took my arm and motioned me over to the main examination table. It was large, padded and covered with a white cotton sheet. Unlike the other table I had lain on before, this one had considerably more attachments and devices built on. First of all there were the stirrups on either side. They could be set into almost any position, higher, lower, wider or closer. The table itself could be tilted up or down as need be and various parts were hinged. There were Velcro restraints for hands and ankles if necessary, along with a variety of adjustable lamps, tray holders and what not. There were also a small step to be used in gracefully mounting the table. It was a rather daunting looking piece of medical apparatus, but the doctor took great pride in it, explaining that it was an advanced model offering the patient a larger degree of comfort than the simpler examination tables found in most doctor’s offices.
“Of course you don’t have to take my word for it,” she smiled, “I’d like you to try it out,” and she patted it’s surface. In spite of my improved mood, I was still a little bit apprehensive when I took the three steps up and turned around to sit on the table. The doctor told me to slide back a bit. She then took hold of my ankles one at a time and lifted them into the stirrups strapping them in with Velcro restrainers. She adjusted them to her liking, spreading my legs open wide but leaving my knees near my chest. The doctor told me to ‘snuggle’ a little bit towards her, which I thought a curious turn of phrase under the circumstances. I couldn’t manage very well, so she took hold of my hips and helped me along. Finally she put a small cushion under my lower back. At last she had me positioned to her liking : legs open wide, knees to my chest and my buttocks raised in the air. I would have to take her word for it that I was not as uncomfortable as in older examination tables, but I was certainly just as exposed. My genitals were in open view with my prick upon my abdomen, pointing at my face, my testicles riding high and my anus in full view as was the rest of my genital region. I could feel the blood pulsing through my veins and my penis, causing it to move slightly and contract and expand ever so little. Since my genitals were at eye level I could study them quite clearly. Curiously I wondered what girls ever saw in them.
The doctor picked up an object from a tray. She told me that she was going to introduce a local muscle relaxant into my rectum to help enlarge my anal opening for the duration of the internal exam. It was in the form of a suppository which she first covered with lubricant. It was not very thick, less than 1 cm in diameter, but tapered and long. She slid it up into my bottom and left part of it sticking out. This was done so that the sphincter muscles in the anus itself would be coated with the relaxant as it melted from my body heat.
Waiting for the suppo to take effect the doctor explained that she would then examine my scar more closely. Usually for an internal anal exam she would wear Latex gloves but because of the nature of my injury it was indicated that she be able to feel the scar directly. She assured me that her nails were trimmed very short and to prove her point she let me see them up close. I had been cleaned out sufficiently also so she saw no direct need for gloves. She then went to the sink and thoroughly washed her hands several times with a strong soap to disinfect them.
By this time the suppo had melted and the end part sticking out of me had broken off and slid down the crease of my ass. The doctor brushed it off. As a last preparation before the internal anal exam, she dipped her right hand fingers in a large jar of oil and pulled them out, dripping with lubricant.
“Relax now, I’m going to start with one finger and go on from there when you’re dilated. Ready ?” she asked and began gently rubbing my entire anal region, pushing down on the rim of my pucker and slowly inserting her finger in my anus proper. She applied more pressure, I felt myself opening up and then her finger was inside. I flinched a little and tried to pull back. The doctor told me to lay still and not to pull back. To steady me she put her free left hand on my belly but ended up pressing on the underside of my prick. It stiffened noticeably but if it was due to the doctor’s hand or to the insertion of her finger, I could not say. Or care. But by exerting pressure on the shaft of my penis, she caused my testicles to be pulled upwards and squeezed rather tightly in my scrotum and this did cause me discomfort.
I told her in the politest way possible that she was being a little to rough on my private parts, so she took her hand away, tugged my testicles back in place and then fit her hand under my penis so she could continue to steady my body. It felt better that way and I stopped fidgeting so the doctor could continue her probing.
She felt all along the narrowest part of my anus, where the muscles form the sphincter, closing off the rectum. She turned her finger all about in various directions feeling the scar and surrounding tissue. She pulled in and out several times asking me to describe the sensations. I was still a little sore when she inserted and pulled out her finger, but didn’t feel all that much once she was in and twirling her finger around.
Satisfied that she had examined the scar sufficiently she pushed in deeper and felt the inner walls of my rectum, exerting pressure on various spots and areas. She must have inserted her finger as far as it would go because I felt her hand pressed up to my anus, thumb up to the base of my scrotum, other fingers down along the narrowing crack of my ass.
The doctor withdrew her single finger and asked if I had felt any pain or discomfort from the scar or in any other area. I told her that it wasn’t such a nice feeling when she entered me at first, but that it wasn’t actually painful either. After a while the discomfort went away and I could tolerate her probing. She said that it was a good sign and that she could then proceed with two fingers. These went in with a little more difficulty, stretching my anus to its limit (or so I thought). She conducted the same sort of exploration, only less intense. I was glad that it was finished after a few minutes so she could withdraw her fingers. She then went to the sink and washed her hands.
I had hoped that would be the end of it, she had finally given my injury a good examination, she had felt all over it, rubbed it and extensively examined it and the surrounding tissue. I was wrong however. She still hadn’t seen it. She reassured me that everything felt in order but that she still needed to get a good look at it. I figured that she would use the thin sigmoidescope as she had last time, but here I was mistaken (again).
An optical conducting instrument was fine in certain cases, but not this one. During my first examination two weeks ago, she needed a general idea of my injury but didn’t want to cause any additional damage. For that purpose a sigmoidescope was fine. This time she told me she was going to insert a rectal speculum and open my anus for inspection.
This was something I hadn’t bargained for at all or even imagined being done. Somehow the thought of being examined like a woman made me feel more than just vaguely uncomfortable. The doctor took a long shiny metal instrument some 20 cm long. This she liberally coated with lubricant after washing it with a disinfecting liquid. She must have noticed my unease.
“Don’t look so upset. There’s nothing to be worried about. Women have this done to them quite often as part of a routine check-up. Surely you’ll be able to survive it too. Just relax, it’ll be over before you know it,” she tried reassuring me.
“It will feel just a bit cool at first, but that will pass,” she explained, “Just don’t push back when I insert it, let it enter. Ready ?”
Would I ever be ? But having no say in the matter I tried to do as the doctor advised. The speculum was adequately lubricated, I had no cause for any concern on that account. But as she had warned, the metal expander was not as pleasantly warm as the doctor’s fingers had been. She turned it around until it was positioned to her satisfaction, making sure that the scar in my anus would not be covered by the opening prongs. The speculum was tapered so I already felt my anal opening being enlarged as the doctor pushed it in deeper to it’s fullest extent. I sighed and shivered.
Once positioned to its’ deepest penetration, the doctor unlocked the retracting screw and began to steadily force the instrument and my asshole open. This was certainly the oddest sensation of the whole examination and while not pleasurable it was thankfully not overly painful. The doctor clicked the holding pin in place and took a small penlight. She bent her head between my spread thighs and conducted her examination, turning this way and that. Finally she put aside her light and closed the speculum before retracting it. She placed the glistening instrument on a small white towel in a tray next to the examination table. I looked at it half in amazement that I had just accommodated it in my rear and grateful that it was over.
In conclusion to the rectal examination the doctor told me she was going to administer an emollient lotion in and on my anus. I had been stretched beyond my usual width and she did not want me to experience any undue soreness or discomfort later in the day. She therefore took a small pear shaped squeeze bulb and filled it with a soothing salve. The nozzle was inserted a short way into my anus and the cream expelled. When that was done she wiped off my backside with a damp washcloth, cleaning off all the residual lubricants and oils she had used on me during the rectal exam. Just before putting the towel away she looked at my very erect penis and noticed the little pool of pre-ejaculate that had collected on my belly. She daintily lifted my prick up, cleaned the tip and wiped me clean.
With a smile she announced that she was finished and would unstrap my ankles from the stirrups. I had become somewhat cramped laying in such a rather unusual and uncomfortable position. With both legs finally out of the stirrups I had to make an effort to sit up. I groaned more dramatically than was really warranted.
“Are you all right ?” the doctor quickly asked. “I hope you’re not experiencing any pain ?”
“No no,” I reassured her, “Just a little stiff I think.”
“Well that I can certainly see,” she said looking at my still erect penis with a grin on her lovely face. “But don’t worry it will pass.”
That wasn’t what I meant, and of course she knew it. I blushed and needlessly put my hands over my genitals.
She gave me a mockingly stern look and helped me down off the table and over to the chair in front of her desk. I sat down, wondering if I could get dressed now, while the doctor made a few notes and rearranged some papers.
“There,” she announced, filing some pages into a binder, “That’s taken care off. Now as to your injury. I’m glad to say that it has healed quite nicely with no trace of infection, though it was rather more extensive than I thought at first. You will have to take very good care of yourself in the next few weeks. I recommend that you massage your scar and the surrounding tissue regularly in order to prevent it from becoming stiff and rigid. I’ll give you a suitable ointment that you can apply.
“She went over to her medicine cabinet and took out a large tube, placing it on the desk in front of me. “Rub it in daily for about two weeks, and regularly afterwards.”
“How do I ah….get it on the right place ?” I asked.
“I think the best way is to use your finger. Wash first, then apply a generous amount before inserting it. Work it in several times so that your anus is coated inside and out.” Once again she had that hint of a grin on her face, “It shouldn’t be an altogether unpleasant treatment I’m sure.”
She liked to rub it in, in more ways than one. “It might be a good idea to apply it during masturbation. Do you indulge daily ?” she asked as if inquiring about my intake of hamburgers and fries.
“Oh no, no.” I quickly replied. “Well once a day is sufficient, more would be unnecessary.”
She was teasing, of this I was sure. “I meant less.”
“Oh, less than once a day ? I see. Then you could have your girlfriend help you.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Well that’s up to you I suppose. I had thought it might be best if both of you came back together so I could instruct her in some anal sexual techniques.”
Now that was an impractical idea at best and I told her so. “In that case it might be best if I gave you some advice right now. You are apparently strongly attracted to anal stimuli so I suppose that you will keep on including that in your future sexual activity. Keep yourself clean, on the outside as well as on the inside. It may take some getting used to, but I would urge you to give yourself an enema regularly. Also I recommend that you regularly stretch or dilate your anus, say about once a week or fortnightly. That way it will retain its’ elasticity and be able to accommodate objects without causing you any pain. You’ll certainly want to be prepared if your girlfriend ever wants to play the part of a male.”
When I was that age I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about and it must have shone.
“Well, no matter. But remember to stretch yourself regularly. I don’t think you’d like another injury in the same place.”
That was for certain and I agreed.
“It might be easier if you used a dilator or dildo to do the stretching exercises. Do you have one at home ?”
Although I wasn’t one hundred per cent certain what a ‘dildo’ was I did have a fairly good idea. We usually called them vibrators but hardly anyone of my age dared go into a sex shop to buy one. I told her I didn’t have one.
She went over to her medical cabinet and opened a drawer. The doctor opened the small box she had taken along and gave me the object that was inside. It was a 15 cm long shaft of hard wood, polished smooth and varnished to a high gloss. The tip was bulb shaped, slightly larger than the rest of the stem and rounded. But instead of the typical smooth shaft underneath, this one was carved with protruding ridges running down its’ length, the edges curved. She said she had them custom made to her specifications and turned out on a lathe. The doctor told me to form a very small ‘o’ shape with my thumb and forefinger and to push the dildo through it. I was rather clumsy I suppose so she leaned over and took my hand in hers, making me clench my fingers tighter together. She then took the dilator and gently forced it upwards through my fingers and pulled it back down again several times.
“Do you feel how the ridges alternatively make the surrounding flesh expand and contract ?” she needlessly asked. “If you use this on your anus in the same way you will be exercising the sphincter muscles. It would be even better if you used it together with the ointment.”
This certainly was a novel type of treatment, and one that I don’t think my parents would have approved of. Not that I was going to elaborate when I got home.
“Just to make sure you understand how to use this, I think I’ll give you a little demonstration.” She stood up and placed me in front of the examination table and draped a clean towel in front of me. Next she took some of the stretching cream, rubbed it on the dildo and told meto bend over. She generously lubricated my anus with the same cream and told me to relax. As I had more or less expected, she gently but firmly inserted her custom made dilator into my bottom. I had already been penetrated by so many objects during my examination that afternoon, not the least of them being the doctor’s lovely fingers, but this gave me the most unusual and pleasurable sensations of all. The tip being larger, expanded my anus which then gratefully contracted once the rim was past my sphincter. Then it was pushed open once again, allowed to contract and so on until the entire length of the odd shaped dildo was deeply inserted in my rectum. Then it was retracted, producing the same sensations onlyin reverse. I was overwhelmed by the strong stimulations that produced ripples of sexual excitement throughout my body. I seemed to melt with desire.
I sagged over the table, breathing faster and trying to keep my composure, but I don’t think that was the doctor’s intention. She continued her massage with the dildo and soon my anus felt as if it were the seat of all my feelings, it was on fire and pulsing with pleasure. Of courseI had become as erect and hard as never before but I had forgotten my sex organ in the rush of feelings brought on by her little ‘demonstration’. The doctor however hadn’t. She tookhold of my penis, exposing my glans and started a rhythmic caressing that alternatedbetween gentle rubbing and firmer stroking.
It did not take much of this activity to bring me to the brink of orgasm and beyond. My knees buckled and trembled, I closed my eyes and saw stars in the blackness in front of me, I felt a lovely rush of warmth leave my bowels and travel outwards through my stiff prick. I could nothelp myself and was moaning while my semen spurt onto the towel the doctor had laid out in front of me for just that purpose. My body shook and it was all I could do not to sink to theground in exhaustion. Instead I sighed deeply and lay down on the table, panting to catchmy breath.
When I had recovered my composure, the doctor slowly retracted the dildo and removed her other hand from my penis. It was sticky wet with semen so she went over to the sink to wash. Finished, she came back with a cloth and cleaned me ‘up’, removing the excess ointment from my backside. She had me turn around and then washed my prick.
“I think that concludes your examination,” she told me, “You can get dressed now.”
I went back to the booth and put my clothes back on. The doctor was busy filling out the health insurance forms by the time I was ready. Smiling, she gave me the papers, the cream and her special dildo. I’ve always wondered what she entered on the insurance form but I never found out. She told me to take care, do the prescribed exercises regularly and to come back if necessary.
I never had any occasion to return afterwards, but I’m not sure if I should add ‘luckily’.
If this is an almost true story what is and what isn’t ? My girlfriend (later wife) did cut me pretty bad with her fingernail and I really didn’t feel anything until the next day. I thought I had a bad case of hemorrhoids and made a doctors appointment. The doctor was a 60 yearold sour puss who said very little, charged very much, seemed very disapproving (although maybe he had just seen it all during his career) and left me feeling very ashamed of myself,as if I had done something incredibly naughty and disgusting. I also got the impression that he pegged me as a homosexual (it was different being considered gay 24 years ago, don’t forget). And it was more than 15 years later before the occasion arose that I told my wife about it. I did learn to pay more attention to proper lubrication and the condition of any objects I used for anal stimulation afterwards though.
So the rest of the story is just some wishful thinking and fantasy.