Tom Folsom wearily sat down on the edge of his bed. His lack of energy wasn’t a physical thing, since 16 year olds are rarely utterly and truly fatigued unless they are ill. No, his problem was mental and he himself was the sole cause.
Of course he would never conceive of admitting to fault and so blamed everything on his mother. She was having one of her ‘cleaning manias’ and had insisted he finally clean up his own room. The words used had been somewhat different, she referring in exasperated terms to ‘pigsties’, ‘animal farms’ and other colorful descriptions of bucolic and rural eyesores.
Tom had replied with conceptions of ‘privacy’, ‘my personal space’ and other enlightened late 20th century notions and concepts. Neither considered conceding an inch and so war had been declared. Ultimatums were issued, insults flew through the air, feelings were hurt and finally the weaker party admitted defeat.
Not without a battle of words though. Such idealized notions as ‘I know where everything is’, and ‘this is my personal system of keeping things in their place’, being ultimately proven wrong when put to the test. Tom couldn’t find a clean pair of socks among the mess of his room to save his life and after being warned to expect a ‘maximum grounding’ he relented and grudgingly and very ungracefully stormed off to clean up his room.
Now, just 45 minutes after starting what he thought to be a task worthy of comparison to that of poor Sisyphus, his room appeared to be in a state approaching neatness and order. Tom thought that it proved his point : namely that if his room could be cleaned up in three quarters of an hour it wasn’t all that messy to begin with. He never looked at the matter from his mother’s viewpoint : namely that it wasn’t all that much of a job in the first place and should therefore not be left undone.
Whatever the argumentation Tom was tired of the business already and considered the cleaning up finished as far as he was concerned. His mother had made him lug up a vacuum cleaner to his room to be used in the final stage, but he ignored the machine and was not even considering it’s use. Not only was the job done and finished in his opinion, he had also discovered several previously forgotten items that were much more interesting.
He couldn’t figure out how he had ever forgotten about the magazines he was now looking at : Wet Dreems, Fantasy Lovers and several others of a like subject matter. They were full of wonderfully revealing pictures of ladies and gentlemen engaged in all manners of amorous, erotic and downright earthy lip-smacking sexual activity. The stuff of teenage fantasy : big boobs, spread legs, hard pricks, cock sucking and pussy licking guys and gals having the time of their life. At least that was Tom’s appreciation of the scenes he was raptly and wistfully gazing at with all his undivided attention.
He browsed through the magazines for quite some time, now losing himself in a torrid fantasy inspired by a particular display then switching over to yet another, each just as gratifyingly lustful as the previous. The magazines also contained a multitude of advertisements for all manner of sexual services, advice and devices, some of which he could not truthfully conceive the function of (yet).
One ad was quite clear in it’s message though :
Acme Deluxe PENIS ENLARGER !
Guaranteed to lengthen and strengthen your organ
to proportions gals will go crazy over !’
Accompanying the text was a drawing of a device that was to placed over the male organ. It looked like a large plastic cylinder, open at one end, connected via a plastic tube to a squeeze bulb. The ad stated that diligent and regular ‘exercise’ with this wondrous apparatus would result in an enlargement of the male sexual member.
Now Tom may have been only 16 and technically still a virgin, but he was not totally inexperienced in sexual matters, and he was not all that gullible. Even he knew that such devices were no more than masturbation aids, the advertising hype notwithstanding. Still that did not lessen his interest one bit. In fact looking at the drawings of the ‘enlarger’ in action only whetted his appetite and imagination. He tried to imagine what it would feel like to use such a contraption but couldn’t come up with any clear cut idea.
Not that he needed it for its advertised purpose ! Good heavens no. While not pretending to hold any school records in the penis size department, he knew from observation, comparison and comment (from both sexes) that he held an enviable position among the top half of the male population. His prick was of a pleasurably sufficient girth and size to be favorably commented on while at the same time not being considered grotesquely oversized. If only he could find someone willing to let him use it as nature had intended ! But that was a problem of an altogether different order.
Tom looked closely at the drawings of the machine in action. Even if the thing gave no permanent results it still looked fun to use.
Without consciously thinking about it, Tom unzipped his trousers and pulled out his prick. Looking at the drawings again, he stroked and squeezed himself in various fashions, overhand, underhand, whole-handedly, double-handedly, on the shaft, and in several other ways too ingenious to describe with mere words, but nothing approximated the sensations he imagined the penis enlarger to provide.
He was just about to turn the page when his eye fell on the vacuum cleaner. Mechanical inspiration blossomed in a wink and Tom envisioned a much more pleasurable application for that everyday household appliance. The thing had a shaft just like the penis enlarger, albeit somewhat unnecessarily longer, and a pump as well, though one mechanically powered. Why spend $ 39.95 + $ 2.75 postage and handling (plus sales tax where required) when just about every home had one of the things in a slightly different form and shape ?
Hardly thinking the matter through, Tom stood up, plugged in the machine, dropped his pants, pulled down his briefs and switched on the power. He removed the long metal attachment and brush from the machine and was left with the corrugated tube and end piece. His prick wasn’t quite fully erect yet as the vacuum cleaner whizzed into action. Using his right hand to steady his organ, he lowered the hose over his penis. Still several inches away from his glans, he could feel the current of air sucking around his shaft, seemingly eager to draw his member into its inviting depths.
Suddenly the hose jerked in his hand, shot forward and literally tried to suck his male member from his body. With a will of its own, it attached itself to his penis, pressing inwards with such force that it felt like the tube was trying to simultaneously bore its way into his abdomen via the groin and wrench his poor penis out by the roots. To say it hurt would have been the understatement of the year. Poor Tom yelped in surprise and pain as the vacuum cleaner hose was yanked from his hands. It flayed about in the air before him, twisting and turning like a snake.
He tried to grab it, but his pants being pulled down to around his ankles, he only succeeded in losing his balance and fell down backwards, all of which only complicated his predicament. The appliance merrily sucked away at Tom’s prick, which to compound matters even more, was now so inappropriately erect and stiff that it had become firmly stuck in the hosing. It would have been difficult to dislodge even without incalculating the vacuum factor.
Things might have ended in a less dramatic fashion if Tom’s mother hadn’t been of an essentially goodhearted nature. Gratified that she had (finally) won a test of wills with her son, she watched him storm off to clean his room and surmised from the ensuing noises that he was finally getting on with the business.
After a decent amount of time had passed she too calmed down and decided that a little positive encouragement would go a long ways in promoting mutual understanding. She prepared a cup of tea and cookies for her son and was just in the hallway outside his room when she heard the vacuum cleaner whiz into action.
Well that was certainly a pleasant surprise ! She had insisted on Tom taking it up to his room with him, but hadn’t really expected him to use it. She wasn’t going to be that unrealistic.
Pleased with what she thought to be her son’s diligent cleaning, Mrs. Folsom opened the door and stood openmouthed in utter surprise and shock at what she saw. Tom was on the floor, writhing and moaning with the vacuum cleaner hose on his thing. He was unheedful of her presence which enraged her even more.
It was totally unbelievable ! She was shocked beyond words and immediately dropped the tray of tea and cookies, shrieked an unprintable obscenity and didn’t know what to do first : run screaming down the hallway or whollop her son’s backside black and blue.
Finally, after staring aghast at the scene before her for what seemed like hours (but which was of course only seconds), she resolutely strode over to the vacuum cleaner, heroically resisted the urge to kick Tom in the butt on the way and angrily pulled the plug out from the wall socket.
Seemingly disappointed that the fun was over, the vacuum cleaner ceased its diligent vacuuming, revved down and let out a soft, but audible sigh as it loosened its grip on Tom’s prick.
Tom, relieved that the excruciating pressure on his groin was finally over, gratefully opened his eyes and received the shock of his life when he saw his mother standing next to the now silent vacuum cleaner.
“This is it,” he thought, “I’m done for.”
They both stood looking at each other. Tom’s mother was the first to open her mouth : “My God ! How could you ever do something like that !!” she cried, and bursting into tears she ran out of the room.
Tom was on the verge of tears himself and just before succumbing to the inevitable wave of humiliation and remorse he remained sufficiently lucid to know that there was going to be hell to pay for this.
As it turned out, there was hell to pay for the incident, with interest due even , but it wasn’t Tom who was ultimately presented with the bill. Family dynamics are not necessarily restricted to following the dictates of reason and logic and this instance could have served as a textbook example.
George Folsom drove home from work that Wednesday in a very good mood and was planning on having a nice home-cooked dinner, then a quiet evening at home with his family and after lights out, an old fashioned game of hide-the-salami with his good looking Misses.
But instead of coming home to the loving arms of his wife and the respectful adoration of his adolescent son, he came home to find his house in a state of emotional uproar. He found Sara in the kitchen, alternatively either bawling her eyes out or else on the verge of hysterical apoplexy, ranting and raving something or other about what ‘his son’ had gone and done.
He wasn’t too clear on the details, but apparently it had something to do with Tom cleaning his room, using the vacuum cleaner and doing something ‘dirty’ with magazines.
There were too many possible permutations for George to fully comprehend what was going on, so after comforting his wife as best as he could (which wasn’t very much admittedly), he went upstairs to Tom’s room.
On the way he tried to figure out what could have possibly happened, but aside from Tom using pages from a magazine to make confetti or something, he couldn’t conceive of anything. He was that sort of guy.
He gently knocked on Tom’s door.
“Go away and leave me alone !” was the response he got after the fifth knock.
“Son, it’s your father. Will you please open the door so I can talk to you ?”
“No, just leave me alone.”
“Will you please tell me what’s going on ?” he tried again.
“No, just leave me alone. I don’t want to see anyone ever again.”
And so it went for a dozen or so exchanges, just like trench warfare on the Western Front, neither side gaining or conceding an inch of (psychological) territory. This was the type of situation that thoroughly exasperated George, so he finally just gave up and went back down to the kitchen, hoping to get a sensible explanation from his wife.
It took another half hour for her to calm down and compose herself sufficiently to give him a more or less coherent description of the whole mess.
Then in bits and pieces she told what had happened. George patiently, not unlike a well routined and cunning detective he thought, went over certain points, asking questions, putting everything into a coherent context and finally getting the drift of what had happened. Dragging the story out of her seemed to make his wife madder and madder though, so that by the time he figured out what had happened she was just about boiling over with anger.
As a final reproach Sara went to the counter behind her and returned with several porn mags which she accusingly threw down on the table in front of George.
“This is the filth your son was jerking off too while he had that hose around his thing !”
Oh my, George thought, recognizing the magazines from his private stash in the garage that had mysteriously kept getting smaller. He hadn’t thought Tom would find them, but apparently he had.
“What do you say to that !”
That was a very good question in George’s opinion. What does one say to that ? Should one even say anything to begin with ?
“What do you want me to say Sara ? Tom’s 16 for goodness sake. He’s suffering from raging hormones just like they all do. Kids jerk off from time to time you know.”
“Not like that ! He was using a vacuum cleaner for Gods sake. And reading this garbage to boot ! What do you think of that ?”
Actually George was rather surprised at the whole thing. He had certainly never used a vacuum cleaner or even thought of doing so when he was young and he sort of admired his son’s sense of (reckless) daring. He tried to joke his way out of it.
“Gee, we never had an electric vacuum cleaner in our family when I was young. I wouldn’t really know darling.” Of course that was a very tall story at least if not a downright lie.
“Don’t you give me your Depression Blues sob story now, George Folsom. And what do you think of those magazines ?!”
In all honesty, they did seem a tad childish now that was looking at them with his wife present, but in other circumstances they served a discernable and pleasurable function.
“Oh, you know how kids are, Sara. Flash them a picture of some pussy and they can’t resist the urge.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You actually approve of this trash ?”
“No, I don’t ‘approve’ of it per se.”
“And where do you think he got this junk anyway ?”
Oh oh, that was dangerous territory. “God Sara, how do kids get hold of stuff like that ? From friends, I suppose, or maybe they buy it themselves. Anyway, it’s no big deal.”
“Oh no ? And don’t think I haven’t figured out what your son was doing. Look at this.” She angrily opened a magazine to the ad for the Penis Enlarger and pushed it under his face. “Look at this disgusting ad : he was trying to make his thing bigger.”
He played the part expected of him, studied the ad and made disapproving noises. He wondered why his wife couldn’t bring herself to say the word ‘penis’ or ‘prick’. Why did she keep referring to Tom’s ‘thing’ ?
“C’mon Sara, this is just a sex toy. It doesn’t really enlarge your penis.”
“I wouldn’t know since I don’t have one ! And how do you know ?”
“Oh, you know, I must have read about it somewhere or other.” He tried.
She glared at him, saying nothing.
“Or maybe one of the guys at the office mentioned something about these things at one time or another.”
“Or maybe it was during my time in the Service, I don’t remember.”
Somehow, without George being entirely clear on the matter it was at this point that he landed in the dog house. He hadn’t done anything wrong that he was aware of except trying to be calm and reasonable about everything. He was trying to stand up for his son and look at this thing from both standpoints. But it had happened before and here he was in the same predicament. His wife was pissed off at his son and ended up venting her frustration on him.
“George Folsom, I want you to do something about this and I want you to do it now !”
And with that she stood up and left George with the forlorn and ragged copies of Wet Dreems, Fantasy Lovers and the other mags.
For some reason or other George felt like going up to Tom’s room and yelling “Well here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten me into !” But there was something about the situation that didn’t warrant him doing an Oliver Hardy impersonation, so he just left it at that.
He waited in the kitchen for an hour or so in the forlorn hope that somehow, someway or other dinner was going to be served. He had no such luck and debated either fixing something himself or calling a take out. In the end he decided that he had no desire whatsoever to prepare anything and so phoned for some Fried Chicken with all the trimmings.
After the delivery, he sat munching on a chicken wing when he noticed his son standing at the door. He smiled ruefully.
“Well, if it isn’t Jumping Jack Flash. Why don’t you have a seat and join your Old Man ?”
Tom didn’t smile back.
“Look, Kiddo, it’s your Mom who’s pissed off, not me. Come on over and give me your side of the story.”
“So am I. Come on over and have some of this. There’s enough.”
Tom limped over and took some of the fried chicken. “I’m going back to my room.”
“Oh no you don’t.” George said. “Just sit down.”
Tom sat down and started eating in silence.
Finally, after finishing the food George managed to get a conversation of sorts going.
“Are you OK son ?”
“No, I’m not OK.”
“Hurt yourself ?”
“Not really……. A little I guess.”
“None of your business.”
“C’mon Tom. If you’re hurt I have to know about it.”
“So I can get you treated.”
“As if you care.”
And so it went.
George finally managed to get Tom’s account out of him. That it differed slightly from his wife’s version didn’t surprise him. He was concerned that for all the brouhaha going on about Tom’s ‘disgusting behavior’ the boy could have actually hurt himself. He was sure that his son would never allow him to examine the bruised parts, so a doctor’s visit was going to be on the agenda.
That is when George figured out a stratagem to diffuse the situation and get his household back on a normal footing.
He regularly met with Karen Gracier who took care of his firm’s PR and Advertising. They developed something more than a mere professional relationship without it turning into anything overtly amorous. Aside from business they confided small personal items to each other, discussed all sorts of matters ranging from art and literature to movies, vacation plans and what not. They also shamelessly flirted around without it ever coming to anything.
Why just a few weeks ago, Karen told George about the trouble she had had with her step-daughter Kelly and her nephew Alex during the summer vacation. Both had become enamored of each other and fearing a potentially embarrassing libidinous situation, Karen had bundled them both off to a doctor she was apparently well acquainted with. This doctor had a private clinic and was in Karen’s rapturous opinion, eminently qualified to handle all types of sexual complaints, be they of a pure gynecological or of a psychological nature. The doctor’s name was Sigrid Kitzsler, she had been trained in Europe and was of course tremendously successful in her field.
The teenagers were sent to the clinic for a general check-up and some very specific lecturing on the dangers of unbridled teenage erotic adventurism. Karen hinted at doctor Kitzsler’s unorthodox methods and treatments without being specific, but in any case George got a thrill just hearing about it and imaging what had gone on. Both of the children had come back with an entirely different attitude and conducted themselves in an exemplary fashion for the rest of the summer.
Karen Gracier told George that if he was ever in need of the doctor’s services to give her a call and she would set up an appointment for him.
That was exactly what he planned to do.
Karen arranged an appointment for Tom on Saturday morning for which George was eternally grateful. The next two days were strained to say the least, but Tom wisely kept himself busy with schoolwork and George stayed late at the office, not only catching up on his work, but earning himself some Brownie Points as well.
Dinners at home were not exactly joyous affairs either, but by Friday evening Sara was at least back on speaking terms with her husband.
“Do you really think seeing this doctor will do any good ?” she asked.
“I hope so, dear. A colleague of mine heartily recommended her.”
“Was his kid fooling around with vacuum cleaners too ?”
“Ha ha, dear. That’s a good one. No, I don’t think we have an epidemic on our hands. I believe they were experiencing some trouble with their daughter and nephew.” George explained, sidestepping the issue of the gender of ‘his colleague’.
“If t were up to me, I would wash his mouth out with soap.”
And his backside as well, George thought, not caring to bring up the issue of parental correction as experienced by his wife as a child. Her family had been big believers in the corrective use of enemas as a punishment tool.
“Well, those days are past. We have to move along with our times.” George was beginning to talk in clichés and homilies.
“More’s the pity.”
At any rate, bright and early Saturday morning, Tom and George presented themselves at the Kitzsler Clinic. They were the first patients scheduled for the day and were allowed straight in.
Doctor Sigrid Kitzsler was seated behind her desk. She stood up, shook hands, and asked them to take a seat.
“I’d like to thank you Doctor, for seeing us on such short notice.” George began.
“Quite all right, Karen Gracier said it was something of an emergency ?”
“Yes, you could call it that, I suppose.”
“Can you tell me what the problem is ?”
“Uh, well…my son Tom here,” George said motioning towards the very uncomfortable and embarrassed boy, “had a sort of a…accident I guess while he was fooling around with a…a vacuum cleaner a few days ago. You see my wife found him and was extremely upset.”
“Did you call the emergency services ?” Doctor Kitzsler asked.
“No, it was ah…a different kind of accident…actually.”
“I don’t know how to say this …in a polite fashion. But he was using the vacuum cleaner to ah…gratify himself and ah…my wife sort of surprised him. I guess.” Why did this have to be so difficult ? “We were hoping you might give Tom a lecture or something like you did Ms. Gracier’s kids.”
While George Folsom was managing to get his explanation done, Doctor Kitzsler couldn’t help but be amused. She didn’t let it show of course and kept a suitably passive face, but inwardly she was more than amused, she was positively delighted. Another adolescent caught playing with himself and Mommy and Daddy are outraged, shocked and at a loss at what to do. This was something that she was going to look into quite diligently, though not for the reasons Mommy and Daddy wanted. It certainly sounded intriguing : she could well imagine what a healthy little male sex maniac would use a vacuum cleaner for, but this was something she was going to have some fun with.
She put on her best professional demeanor. “I think I understand what you are getting at Mr. Folsom. Your son was using the vacuum cleaner to masturbate. Correct ?”
Both Tom and George winced. That ugly word.
“I guess you could put it that way.”
“It’s usually the best way to put it. Now, if you don’t mind Mr. Folsom I think it also best that you step outside while I occupy myself with Tom.” Doctor Kitzsler said standing up and moving to open the door.
“Oh, yes…certainly. I understand.” George was relieved that the rest of the appointment would be conducted without him. Before leaving though he handed the Doctor a large brown envelope. “This is something my wife wanted to be sure you got. It’s what Tom was using when he…”
“Yes, I understand. Thank you.” She said while taking the envelope and ushering George out the door.
Back at her desk she opened the envelope and took out the magazines that Sara had carefully marked. There was an unmistakable bookmark on the page featuring the Penis Enlarger Ad. A smile played on her lips and she shook her head in contained merriment.
“Well young man. It seems as if you’ve certainly caused quite an uproar in your family.”
“Yes ma’am, I suppose so.”
“Would you care to give me your version ?”
Actually he didn’t, but there was no way out that Tom could see so he told her what had happened. Doctor Kitzsler listened attentively, asking a question now and then to clarify a point or another, but overall she let Tom tell the story in his own manner.
Doctor Kitzsler did her best to keep a straight face. Normally she preferred the female sex by far and could be quite disdainful of males at times, but for some reason she sympathized with the boy.
“I see. Quite an embarrassing situation I would say. But we’ll come back to that later. On another note : did you hurt yourself in any way ? I noticed you limping a bit when you came in.”
“Sort of, but I think it will be OK.” Tom tried.
“Well, I’ll be the judge of that young man.” Doctor Kitzsler stood up and motioned for Tom to follow her. “We’ll start by taking a closer look and assessing what damage may have been done to your vital parts. Just come along with me and we’ll take care of everything.”
octor Kitzsler led Tom out of her office by a side door, bypassing the main hallway where George Folsom was browsing through some rather arcane medical journals for want of better reading material. They both walked though a pristine clean corridor meeting no one on the way. The doctor stopped at the door to her private examination room and entered, with Tom following.
This room was reserved for her own personal use and although at first sight it appeared as just about any other doctor’s examination room, to Tom there was something vaguely unsettling about it. That was most likely because the first thing that caught his eye was a centrally placed gynecological exam table, complete with swivel stirrups, several IV holders and a multitude of levers, knobs and hinged parts built on. It was also covered by a crackling clean cotton cloth, starched and neatly arranged with a simple pillow as head rest.
There were several metal trolleys as well, with neatly laid out metal and plastic instruments set out in ordered rows, each more ominous looking than the next. Another trolley contained boxes, tubes and flasks of all kinds of ointments, salves, liquids, pharmaceutical products and medicaments.
The room was brilliantly lit with overhead lights and the walls finished in even off-white colored square tiles. In addition there was a slightly medicinal odor in the air, such as one finds in most hospitals, but overlaid with other vague and unsettlingly agreeable smells.
Sigrid Kitzsler closed the door behind them and smiled at the boy.
“I’d like for you to undress please, you can put your clothes on the clothes-hanger over there near the sink,” she indicated.
“Do I really have to ?” he asked, dreading the inevitably embarrassing part of the doctor’s visit.
“Don’t be silly, young man, of course you do.”
Reluctantly Tom went over to the hanger and started removing his clothes : shoes first, then shirt and trousers. He thought about taking his undershirt off as well, then thought better of it since he was quite certain which part of his anatomy the Doctor was going to be looking at. As an unnecessary afterthought he did take off his socks, which ultimately served no purpose at all other than to give him cold feet.
Tom was just as disinclined to go back to the doctor as he was to undress, but felt he couldn’t postpone the inevitable much longer.
As soon as she saw the boy still partially clothed Sigrid Kitzsler outwardly frowned. She hadn’t expected any less, since experience had shown her that most male patients had to be expressly enjoined several times to undress completely. She did thoroughly enjoy watching their reactions of discomfort and embarrassment however. Depending upon her mood and disposition towards the patient in general, she contrived to make their transition to the required state of medical nudity either uneventfully pleasant or humiliatingly discomforting. Usually though, she adopted a stance somewhere in between those extremes.
“I did ask you to undress, didn’t I young man ?” she asked.
“I can’t very well examine you in that condition. Take off the rest please.”
Tom had started to pull his undershirt over his head when Doctor Kitzsler put in a helping hand. She bent over and lowered the boy’s briefs to under his knees. Not wanting him to loose balance she then relieved him of his undershirt and instructed him to step out of his underpants. He bent over and picked it up. Doctor Kitzsler handed him his undergarments and told him to hang them up along with the rest of his clothing.
He came back with his hands in front of him, doing the best he could to hide his genitals, but not really succeeding. Out of nervousness no doubt he was already beginning to stiffen, and no matter how he held his hands there was no concealing his prick. He was blushing furiously by the time he stood in front of the doctor.
“There, that’s certainly more convenient for this situation, don’t you agree ?” she needlessly asked, since the boy was clearly embarrassed. Tom mumbled something she didn’t catch.
“Now, hands at your side, please and stand up straight. Modesty is out of place in a doctor’s office.”
He lowered them and nervously looked to one side. His penis wasn’t fully erect by a long shot, at least Doctor Kitzsler hoped it wasn’t, since it hung in a sort of semi rigid half arc. He was an otherwise nicely developed youngster, skin unblemished, with well proportioned muscles and bones and not overly hairy except for a patch of pubic hair. She had him turn around and looked him over at the backside as well. His spine was normally developed with no deformations and he held a good posture.
After completing her precursory visual she had Tom face her and come closer. She would dispense with the usual preliminaries such as taking blood pressure and pulse and the like. Those could be taken at a later time. The doctor pulled up a chair sat down, allowing her an almost straight-on view of his pubic region.
She reached behind the boy and placing a hand on his buttocks she pulled him closer to her. When he was placed to her satisfaction she then instructed Tom to open his legs wider and stand at ease. She took hold of his penis, lifted it upwards and noticed some obvious abrasions along the shaft. Around the base of his penis there was also a ring shaped contusion visible, though his pubic hair did conceal most of it. The doctor couldn’t examine it clearly even when moving his genital hair aside so she decided upon the first requirement : the boy’s pubic hair would have to be removed.
There were two methods that she employed when denuding her patients’ genital areas. If there was ample time available and no obvious outward injuries she quite preferred a leisurely old fashioned manual shaving with soap and razor. Male patients were often uneasy with that procedure, something which did not in any way diminish her enjoyment of it. But the male genital anatomy being what it was, it was a chore demanding more care and attention than when done on a female. Tom’s injuries, though far from being serious, precluded a manual shaving in any case.
That left her with the option of using a depilatory cream, something which was more suited to males in any case since their exterior sex organs were less prone to irritation by outside agents, be that soaps or caustic compounds of any kind. Doctor Kitzsler relished the use of lotions in their own right anyway, especially because of the prolonged skin contact and the opportunity it presented for continuous and repeated massage.
Not that strictly speaking she needed any justification for touching her patients in intimate areas, her field of gynecological expertise was a justification unto itself. But even so, she did not really go in for undue or unwarranted medical procedures. Rather she considered herself to be quite thorough and totally without compunction in using methods and procedures that other physicians would have considered embarrassing or disconcerting to their patients. She also held quite firm and distinct views on matters of sexuality and erotic desire and passion that could be construed by an uncharitable observer as being slightly obsessive and libertine to say the least.
In her defense it should be said that she was more than proficient in her field and the growing number of satisfied patients she had at the clinic was more than sufficient to attest to that.
Nonetheless she could hardly contain a frisson of anticipating pleasure as she led Tom over to the wash area and placed him before a very Continental looking bidet. She went over to one of the metal trolleys and retrieved several items. Smiling at the boy, she pulled on a pair of thin Latex gloves, something which seemed excessively ominous to Tom who stood wondering what the doctor was ever going to do.
She once again instructed Tom to stand at ease with his legs spread apart, and while he was in this uncomfortably embarrassing position, Doctor Kitzsler squeezed out a generous amount of lotion onto her gloved right hand. Proceeding gently, she started rubbing the cream onto Tom’s testicles at first working it into his groin and perineum.
He was startled and somewhat taken aback by the cold cream on his intimate parts. But since Doctor Kitzsler had taken hold of his erect adolescent organ to lift it out of the way he could not pull back or flinch from her applying of the depilatory. She covered his lower sexual area and even some of the boys thighs as well, before taking another handful of lotion to work into the area above his penis and onto his shaft.
Soon all was covered by the white, sharp smelling cream. After his first surprise Tom figured that this lady doctor was applying some sort of soothing or healing salve to his misused apparatus. While it seemed somewhat messy and old fashioned, he was relieved that this appointment would be over with without any prolonged poking and fooling about with his most cherished bodily organ. But youngsters have unflinchingly optimistic expectations at times, simplifying complex situations by avoiding having to deal with the obvious.
He was told to wait several minutes for the lotion to take effect, something he patiently did, in the hopes that soon he would be out of this examination room without any further indignities suffered on his person. While he was doing so, Doctor Kitzsler went over to a sink and washed the remains of the depilatory cream from her Latex gloves. She then occupied herself with choosing several items and laying them out on a trolley.
Several minutes passed, sufficient for the fast working lotion to have done it’s work in dissolving the boy’s pubic hair roots. She told Tom to take place on the bidet. Never having done so before she had to give the boy rather graphic instructions on how to use this unfamiliar apparatus.
“Just squat down over the bowl, with your legs spread wide open to either side. Face the facet…yes that’s good.”
Tom was clearly uncomfortable. He was of course aware that bidets were certainly not designed to be used as a foot bath, locker room jokes notwithstanding, but he had always thought they were something used by women for certain unmentionable hygienic procedures. He wasn’t very clear just what those procedures exactly were, but he had been quite certain that a bidet was not a bathroom appliance that any self-respecting male would ever use for anything except as a pissoir (and maybe as the proverbial foot-bath).
Doctor Kitzsler soon dispelled him of any such notions. She opened the water and checked it to be sufficiently warm. Then switching over to the spray head nozzle she began rinsing the lotion off Tom’s pubic area. She used her gloved hand to help remove the mixture of cream and hair, rubbing lightly over the treated skin.
Now Tom had no idea what the lotion actually was. If asked, he would have said some kind of soothing or healing salve or balm. Therefore he was quite surprised and taken aback when he looked down into the bowl and saw strands of his precious pubic hair mixed with the messy mixture swirling down the drain.
“Doctor, doctor…look at what’s happening !” he said while trying to pull back.
Almost on cue, Doctor Kitzsler thought, realization sets in. The lad has awoken to what is going on around him.
“Look, my hair is coming off..!”
“Of course it is. That is what the cream was for. I can’t very well examine your injuries thoroughly with all that hair in the way.”
“But nothing, young man. This is a basic medical procedure and a precaution as well. I see several open abrasions and it would never do having hair or dirt infecting the tissue. Why do you think patients are always carefully shaved before surgery ?”
“They are ? All over ?” Tom asked, visions of bald people laying in hospital beds going through his mind.
“Not all over. Just around the appropriate area.”
“Oh….I’ve never had an operation so I didn’t know.”
“Good for you. Let’s try and keep it that way.” She continued with the rinsing. “Now don’t let this upset you. Esthetically and hygienically speaking, I would advise you to keep your genital hair trimmed short if not clean shaven anyway.”
“I’d feel silly and look like a sissy.”
“I don’t think so. Obviously there are a lot of things you still have to learn. Not all females like their men looking like hairy primates you know. Just some advice.”
By now, the last traces of Tom’s adolescent bush were gone, rinsed down the drain. The Doctor took a bar of ph neutral soap and washed the denuded area carefully, neutralizing any remaining traces of the depilatory in the process. When that was done, she had Tom stand up. Using a soft towel she dried him off, being careful not to scruff against any injured area.
Tom felt more exposed than before, though he couldn’t truly say why. He did feel something of a draft between his legs, metaphorically speaking, but oddly enough clean at the same time. It was a novel sensation. His youthful penis though, was just as stiff as before and stood at attention like a faithful soldier. He mentally cursed the wretched thing for having a mind of its own. Thankfully the doctor hadn’t commented upon his state of readiness or alluded to it in any manner.
“Good, that’s taken care of. Now, I’d like for you to lie down on the table, please. Over here…” The doctor guided him to the examination table.
She wouldn’t !! was Tom’s first thought. Please no !
“Isn’t that for ladies or something ?” he asked.
“Well, you seem to know a bit more about medical procedures than I thought. But in this case you’re just displaying a typically misplaced male chauvinist attitude. This is used for ladies AND ‘something’ else, just as you surmised : for recto-genital examinations in fact. And for both genders I may add. Now come on….use the steps to get up.”
Aren’t they so predictable, Sigrid Kitzsler thought.
Strictly speaking she could have had Tom stand in front of her and done her work just as well, though slightly less thoroughly, but she absolutely relished having her patients assume the spread-eagled position on the gynecological table. Especially the males. It was so gratifying. She never mistreated them in any way, of course, not even psychologically by embarrassing them in any exaggerated manner. But even so, she undeniably enjoyed the imposition of her medical authority on her patients, having them reveal intimate areas of their bodies and assuming uncomfortable and semi-obscene positions.
Tom climbed up and sat down, hands gripping the edges of the table.
Meanwhile, the doctor had gone to one of the metal trolleys and rolled it over to the exam table. Seeing him still sitting up straight she frowned.
“Please lie down on your back.” She watched him wriggle his bottom higher up on the table and gingerly lay down. “Now, legs in the stirrups please…. Here let me give you a hand…” Doctor Kitzsler lifted each leg by the ankle and placed it in the appropriate stirrup holder. As an added touch, she secured them with a Velcro strap. She then fiddled around with the metal rods until the boy was positioned to her liking : legs spread open, knees to the chest, genitals prominently displayed and buttocks slightly raised.
Due to the position he was in, Tom’s penis was now laying on his abdomen, pointed at his face. He had never really looked at it from this viewpoint before. Somehow it seemed like an odd thing to have dangling between one’s legs, certainly when it was all stiff and eager. He even noticed it pulsing in tune with his heartbeat, contracting and expanding minutely but discernibly. He suddenly wondered how it was that girls were interested in the things in the first place.
He didn’t get the chance to follow that thought to it’s logical conclusion, when he felt Doctor Kitzsler’s hand take hold of the member in question.
Since Tom was adequately cleaned the doctor had not bothered to put on Latex gloves for this part of the examination. She needed to palpate his organ thoroughly and gauge the condition of his skin injuries, so it was indicated that she use her bare fingers for the delicate handling of Tom’s genitals.
She started off by feeling up and down the shaft of his penis, rubbing the skin where necessary, pushing inwards, probing and squeezing from time to time. She held him in her closed fist, then let go and felt him using both the palm and the back of her hand. She scrutinized the bruised areas, which were thankfully not too large nor of any overt concern. As long as they were kept clean and not manhandled any further, there would be nothing to worry about. His glans had not been injured in any way that she could see, though just like in all male organs, it was extremely sensitive to the touch when not lubricated properly.
Lower down though, around the base of his penis shaft, there was a nasty looking ring shaped bruise. Since it went all around the base of his organ it was possible that an injury had occurred to the boys seminal vas. She switched her attention to Tom’s testicles and sac, once again feeling the outside skin layer before commencing her interior probing. She gently rolled each of his testicles around her fingers. Tom almost jumped up from surprise but could do no more than squirm around and tense his muscles. Doctor Kitzsler reassured him that she would do him no harm, but that it was essential that he try and relax as much as possible.
“Why don’t you just close your eyes and pretend your girlfriend is doing this ?” she suggested.
Now that was a novel thought indeed, but somehow it didn’t seem appropriate in the situation. Besides he was in between girl-friends for the moment anyway, much to his dismay.
“I’ve never been like this with a girl before,” he replied.
“You mean entirely undressed ?” She was having him on of course.
“No, I mean laying down like this.”
“You’ve always stood up ?”
“I mean with my legs open wide like this.”
“Females do it all the time, don’t they ?”
“Of course but…”
“No buts,…just think about it. Meanwhile just relax.”
She pushed inwards feeling around for the seminal tubes where they branched outwards towards the base of the penis. She could discern nothing untoward from her manual examination, and decided that the matter would have to be confirmed in another fashion. But before performing that test, she wanted to inspect the boy’s inner sexual organs.
Normally had she had more time available, Doctor Kitzsler would have would have made certain that the boy was clean as a whistle, both inside and out. He would have gotten a series of cleaning and rinsing enemas that would both clean him out and leave him feeling relaxed and reposed. But unfortunately she had other patients scheduled this morning.
Instead she went over to the trolley and demonstratively pulled on a fresh pair of Latex gloves. She worked them down around her hands and finished with a loud and audible snap. Tom looked up and wondered what the doctor was doing. She next unwrapped a thumb sized cylinder from a plastic wrapping and placed it on the cart where Tom could see it. Finally she opened up a tube of lubricant jelly and squeezed a generous amount onto the fingers of her right hand.
“Now we’ll take a look on the inside.” Doctor Kitzsler announced.
The inside of what ? was Tom’s first thought, but instantly afterwards he knew what was going to happen.
“Just relax now and try not to tense up your muscles. I’m going to apply some lubricant to facilitate insertion.” The doctor parted the immediate area around Tom’s anus and rubbed the jelly directly into the anal opening and surrounding region. It felt cool and slippery as she worked it into the skin. When a generous amount had been applied, she deftly but firmly stuck her index finger into his anus, pumped in and out several times and then inserted it all the way into the rectum.
Sigrid Kitzsler felt the boy’s sphincter clench her inserted finger tightly. His anal muscles contracted ever so discernibly in rhythm to his breathing and he was fidgeting around, even though she had placed her other hand over his abdomen to keep him lying still. From the tightness of his anal grip she surmised that Tom was unused to manually stimulating his anus or inserting objects into it during masturbation. She had no doubt at all that he was an anal virgin in every aspect of the word. It was a shame that this ‘area of operations’ fell outside of the proper scope of today’s examination. She would have relished inspecting this part of the boy’s anatomy more closely and perhaps even initiating him into the pleasures that can be derived from that erogenous part of human body common to both sexes. It would be for another time perhaps.
With her index finger, she felt the inside of Tom’s rectum, turning the digit about as need be, hooking it inwards and pressing into the interior tissue and rectal lining. She found nothing out of the ordinary and probed deeper for his prostate gland, not expecting to find any injury but just being diligent in her examination. She pressed down on it and felt the boy tense up.
It was not from pain or discomfort this time, but rather from the unexpected pleasurable sensations he derived from her interior probing. Even his prick, ever stiff, had hardened a degree further, as if that were possible, and raised itself up in expectant anticipation of even more fun to come. Several drops of pre-ejaculate oozed from his urethral opening onto his belly.
The doctor eased up the pressure on his prostate. She now directed her digital scrutiny upwards, pressing against the boy’s bladder and above that outwards towards the abdominal wall. In counterpoint to her interior probing, Doctor Kitzsler expertly used her other hand to press downwards, deep into Tom’s belly.
For good measure she asked Tom to consciously flex his sphincter muscles and to alternatively try and ‘pull’ her inserted finger deeper into him or else to try and expel it. After he did what she asked for satisfactorily, if not with admirable bodily control, Doctor Kitzsler slowly retracted her finger. Tom breathed a sigh of relief that this humiliating part of his examination was over.
It was too soon though, because the doctor was coating the cylinder shaped object with a coat of lubricant jelly. It was an anal suppository containing a relaxant muscle compound along with a light de-inhibiting sedative.
Once again she pried open his buttocks, exposing the boy’s ring-shaped puckered anal opening. Since he was still sufficiently lubricated, she had no trouble at all inserting the suppo into his rectum. Her finger followed, pushing the medication far up into his bowels. The doctor used a tissue to clean off any remaining jelly from Tom’s backside and then she stripped off her own slippery gloves, discarding them into a waste basket.
“I think we’re about done here now. I’ll loosen the straps so you can get up.”
Gratefully Tom removed his legs from the stirrups and sat up, feeling a bit stiff even though his stay in the ‘knees-up’ position hadn’t been for all that long. He sincerely hoped that the doctor was finished with him, because truthfully he felt he had been exposed to her scrutiny long enough for now. He really couldn’t imagine her doing anything else as remotely humiliating as what he had just experienced.
But as so often happens with adolescents, he was wrong in his suppositions.
“There doesn’t seem to be any internal damage, young man. But before we’re finished here, I would like to test your seminal discharge ability. Your erectile process is quite obviously unimpaired, but even so, you may have sustained minute lesions in the vessels which could result in diminished fluid discharge. That could have grave consequences for you later on.”
Tom had no idea what she was talking about, by now he just wanted to get everything over with as quickly as possible so he could get dressed and go back home. He was even ready to swear off fooling around with himself, a grave promise from a 16 year old indeed.
Of course Doctor Kitzsler had no intention whatsoever of even suggesting such a course of action. On the contrary, she was herself a great believer in the necessity of regular sexual activity as a prerequisite for physical and mental health. She took a clean towel from a trolley and held it ready.
“Now I will need some active cooperation on your part for this procedure. I would prefer for you to be standing up. Do you think you are up to it ?”
“I guess so, but what are you going to do ?” Tom asked, not knowing what he was supposed to be ‘up to’.
“I’m not going to be doing all that much, young man, you are.”
He still didn’t understand what was required of him.
“Tom, I would like you to ejaculate so I can see if everything is still I working order. Do you understand ?”
“Oh,….you want to see me ..come ?” he asked.
“If you want to put it that way, yes.”
“I don’t think I can do that, doctor.”
“You don’t have any trouble alone, do you ?”
“I guess not.”
“Why don’t you just close your eyes and try, all right ? Pretend I’m not here.”
This was really turning into a very weird doctor’s visit in Tom’s opinion. First his mother freaked out because she catches him jerking off, and now this lady doctor wanted to see him doing it. He wondered if he were ever going to figure grown-ups out.
Whatever his opinions of his elders, it looked like he was going to have to go through with her request or never be allowed out of her clinic. Reluctantly he took hold of his prick with one hand, closed his eyes and began stroking. He was still somewhat sore in certain areas. He winced at the discomfort.
“Perhaps it would help if you were lubricated somewhat more than you are now,” doctor Kitzsler suggested. She unscrewed a tube of cream and squeezed out a generous amount onto her hand.
Motioning him closer she spread the jelly over his penis, coating it with a cool slippery layer of lubrication. Tom seemed to relax somewhat as she was doing so and Sigrid Kitzsler decided that it would be better if she take over, the boy was still much too tense even after being administered a relaxing and sedative medication.
She told him to just close his eyes and keep his hands at his side, to let himself go with the sensations he was feeling. The doctor was no novice to this form of treatment and she expertly stroked, pulled and rubbed the boy’s organ. But try as she might, she did not seem able to bring him to orgasm. Had he suffered some internal damage after all or was he just too tense ? She suspected the latter and decided to try a different position.
She took Tom over to another table and spread the towel out on the table top. Then, she positioned Tom facing the table and stepped behind him, reaching around in front to take hold of his prick.
“Let’s try it in this position, shall we ?” she said and once again began her stroking and ministrations to his penis. Using a slow and gentle movement she began to move her lightly clenched hand to move up and down the boys penis shaft. Every now and then she would clasp his glans ever so fleetingly and rub along the underside of his organ.
Aside from a few tantalizingly unfulfilled encounters with a girl or two on a date, he had never had anyone touch his sex organ for the intention of bringing him to a climax. Up till now, he had been the sole provocateur, playing the part of Mary Jane Five Fingers. This was something different he was experiencing now, even though it was ostensibly for medical purposes. He kept his eyes closed and let himself flow the rhythm of feelings. Standing up in this position it was difficult to keep his balance, so that unconsciously he tried to bend over forward and support himself somehow. That was an unpractical posture for the proceedings, so Doctor Kitzsler gently but firmly pulled him back upright and backwards until he was nestled in her arms and leaning against her.
Even though such had not been her intention, Sigrid Kitzsler let Tom remain in that position, all the while not letting up in her stroking. He was a nice looking boy, if somewhat naive, she thought but such could be said of a large majority of men in her opinion. In any case, much against her expectations, she found that she was enjoying the proceedings in a fashion that superceded normal medical dedication to duty and a patient’s welfare. She moved her head forward and nuzzled the boy in the neck, murmuring vague encouragements that Tom was in no condition to understand.
Using her free left hand, the doctor sought out Tom’s anus and gently inserted her finger yet again in his little hole. He was still sufficiently lubricated for her to be able to enter without causing him any discomfort. In fact discomfort was the word least suited to describe what Tom was feeling. He bent his legs open to accommodate her and let out a soft moan of deep pleasure.
In counterpart to her stroking, the doctor moved her finger in a slow but pleasurable rhythm, in and out, twirling and hooking her digit, playing with the boy’s anal region, interior and exterior. Tom luxuriated in the feelings, feeling the starched fabric of the doctor’s uniform rub against his bare flesh, smelling her appealing odor that was a mixture of feminine toiletries and hospital antiseptics. He felt her straight cut hair brush against his shoulders in a gentle caress, and shuddered when she pressed her lips ever so fleetingly against his neck. For a brief moment she even pressed her cheek against his, encouraging him to let it go, whispering in a soft voice.
It was more than enough to bring Tom over the brink. The doctor felt his orgasm building as his anus started to pulse and clench itself around her invading finger. Tom’s muscles tensed and breathing faster and faster, he pressed himself backwards and let the pressure that had built up in his genitals flow outwards in a wave of autonomous pleasure.
The doctor had placed her fingers so that she could feel the base of the boy’s penis while he orgasmed. She felt the tell-tale signs of semen being forced outwards through the male sex organ and watched as a split second later a stream of milky white fluid spurt from the tip of Tom’s penis. It flew in a small arc and landed on the towel which Doctor Kitzsler had providently placed in position.
Several smaller emissions followed the first, and those not being as forceful as the first, gushed from the urethral opening and ran along the underside of Tom’s prick and over the doctor’s hand. Finally Tom’s orgasm was over and Doctor Kitzsler ceased her stroking. She let the boy rest in her arms for a minute or two and waited until his breathing reached a calmer rate.
In any case there was no question of whether Tom’s ejaculatory functions were performing properly. She could observe no abnormalities on that account whatsoever, not that she had expected any in the first case.
Now could follow a potentially embarrassing situation if not handled correctly. Once the passion of sexual fervor was over, many males felt ill at ease to say the least, if not self-conscious, flustered or disconcerted, not sure how to comport themselves. This could certainly be the case when there was no reciprocity involved or when the male played a more subservient role as in the present doctor-patient situation. Doctor Kitzsler also correctly surmised that Tom had not had all that much experience with sex partners and would need to be reassured that he had acted properly and correctly. Male egos were such frail things at the best of times, easily bruised if not handled correctly. Still oddly, she felt something more than just professional satisfaction at having successfully examined Tom and submitting him to her ‘treatment’.
“Well now,” she said, “That was most certainly quite satisfactory. I don’t think you have any problems in that regard.” The doctor let go of Tom’s penis and took a clean towel to wipe her hand. She took Tom back over to the wash stand and using a damp cloth she cleaned his genitals, going about the matter in the same detached, professional manner as during the rest of the examination. Finally she washed her own hands and then motioned for Tom to take a seat.
She smiled before starting. “Now then, everything appears to be in order. You don’t seem to have suffered any real damage to your organs. Still, I must warn you that it is quite unsafe to use household appliances for the purposes of self-gratification.”
She waited for Tom to answer or nod his head in agreement.
“You do understand what I’m saying, don’t you ? If you want to masturbate, use your hand or a genuine sex-aid or toy. Don’t improvise. You haven’t enough experience yet to know what is safe or not.”
Tom blushed and mumbled a barely intelligible ‘Yes’.
“Oh come now. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” She pretended she was in thought for a moment.
“Would you like to learn some more ? Your father mentioned an ad in one of those sex magazines that had apparently inspired you to use your vacuum cleaner. It was for a ‘penis-pump’ I believe ?”
Tom could barely answer.
“If you’re interested I could demonstrate one of those devices at a coming appointment.”
Now Tom could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Really ? Are you sure ?”
“Certainly. In any case I would think it prudent that you come back for a check-up. Let’s say that I schedule you for one in two weeks time ?”
“I guess so.”
“Fine, I’ll inform your father on the way out.” She stood up. “I think you had better get dressed now. I still have other patients to see this morning.”
George looked up from his reading as the door to Doctor Kitzsler’s office opened. Tom came back smiling from his examination by the doctor and sat down to wait while his father was asked inside.
“Now then Mr. Folsom, let me reassure you that there is nothing wrong with your son. I would however like to see him back in two weeks time for a last check-up. Would that be satisfactory for you ?”
“Oh, yes. Certainly.”
“Fine. You can schedule an appointment with my secretary on the way out.”
“Sure. Ah…. Did you have a talk with Tom about the…ah… situation…?”
“You mean about his accident with the vacuum cleaner ? Rest assured Mr. Folsom, I emphatically showed him the dangers of using such things for purposes of sex play. I don’t think it will happen again.”
“That’s great. I’m really grateful for all you’ve done. You have no idea how upsetting this has all been to my wife… and ah.. myself as well.” he hastily added.
“Yes I’m sure.”
Driving back home George felt rather well pleased with himself. He had apparently made quite the right decision in contacting this Doctor Kitzsler. He would be sure to thank Karen Gracier next time he saw her, which he hoped would be soon.
Yes everything looked like it was going to be all right. Situation resolved and everyone happy again. Certainly Tom from the look on his face, he thought. Hmmm….maybe he ought to schedule an appointment for himself and the wife with Doctor Kitzsler.
Now that was a thought.