I can’t remember exactly how it came about. It may have been a regular annual check up or some sort of health scare like we seemed to have so often back when I was a kid. I must have been about 13 at the time,
which means Brad would have been 14 and Mark 10 or 11. Anyway, somehow or the other, my two brothers and I ended up standing in our family doctor’s examination room stripped down to our underpants.
All the preliminaries were completed and we had been instructed to wait for the doctor to come in and “finish us up.” Naturally, as older brothers are inclined to do, Brad and I were doing everything we could to make sure Mark was utterly terrified about what was coming. I don’t remember what gory details we dreamed up, but I’m pretty sure it included shoving stuff up his butt and chopping off pieces his willy. You know, the normal kind of helpful stuff brothers are expected to impart to their younger siblings.
Just before we succeeded in driving Mark screaming from the room, the door opened and in came old Dr. Beelman. I don’t know about my brothers, but I do not have good memories about Dr. Beelman. He was gray and gruff with stringy black hair combed straight back over his balding head. He had droopy puffy eyes and a stupid little
clipped-short gray mustache and he smelled like a long dead cigarette. He was always doing things to you that hurt like hell but were “for your own good.”
When he set the tray he was carrying down on the cabinet, we all saw what our own good demanded this time. Lying on the tray, each on its own bed of cotton gauze, were three hypodermic syringes filled to the brim with a sickly yellow fluid. Even Brad, the king of bravado, got quiet when he saw those babies. Each gleaming needle was swaddled in a cotton ball, so it was left to our imaginations how long and thick they were.
Dr. Beelman picked up one of the syringes and turned to us asking, “Now, who’s going to go first?”
I don’t know if he actually expected one of us to jump up and down and start yelling “Me! Me!” If he was, he was sorely disappointed. We all three stood silently, heads down avoiding each other’s eyes and particularly avoiding the doctor’s eyes.
“Brad, why don’t you go first and show your brothers it’s not as bad as it looks.”
It took a moment, but somehow Brad was able to say “Sure” without his voice cracking. He even managed a bit of a swagger as he walked over to the examination table.
“This is for your bottom, Bradley. Pull down your underpants and lean over the table.”
It’s hard to be nonchalant when pulling down your BVDs, but Brad made a brave stab at it. He bent over the table facing Mark and me. He was still trying to be cool and act like it was no big deal when the needle plunged into his butt. All coolness instantly disappeared from his face. His eyes got huge and his jaw dropped open. He’d just about recovered from that when the doctor started injecting the serum. Brad’s mouth clamped shut. His face got real red and a little high pitched squeal started to escape from him like air from a punctured bike tire.
It didn’t take long before his eyes scrunched shut and the squeal became more of a shreak. Finally, he gave up all restraint, opened his mouth and bawled louder than even when dad gave him a paddling. It seemed like it was 5 minutes later that the doctor finally pulled the needle out and rubbed Brad’s butt with the cotton ball. It was another 5 minutes before Brad was under control enough to be able to pull up his underpants. When Brad’s commotion had reduced itself to no more than spontaneous sobs, Dr. Beelman told him he could go next door and put his clothes back on.
By this time Mark was so scared he was rigid. I of course was still making every effort to appear cool and calm. At least until the doctor picked up the next syringe.
“Mark, maybe you’d better go next. You don’t mind, do you Randy?” Nope. Not me. Didn’t mind a bit.
Mark hadn’t moved or made a sound. He just stood there pale as ghost. Eyes enormous.
Doctor Beelman pulled a stool up next to Mark and sat down. He grasped the boy by the arm and pulled him closer. Hooking his fingers into my brother’s underpants, the Doctor pushed them all the way down to his ankles. Then he gently but firmly pulled Mark over his lap.
Mark was still so rigid I was surprised he bent enough for his toes to touch the floor. His underpants hung from one foot for a moment, then fell off onto floor.
Dr. Beelman rubbed the cotton ball over Mark’s up-turned rump. I was close enough to be able to smell the alcohol that saturated the ball. I tried not to look, but couldn’t help myself. My eyes were drawn to the shining glinting needle attached to the syringe. The doctor held the hypo like he was going to throw a dart. With his left hand, he pinched Mark’s left buttock.
Suddenly Mark erupted.
“No! Stop! Don’t! Let me go!” he screamed.
The doctor, a grizzled veteran in these pediatric wars, was not taken by surprise. He clamped down with his left arm, pinning Mark’s torso to his lap. Mark continued to kick his legs wildly right up to the instant the doctor plunged the needle into his butt. Then his legs froze in place, sticking straight out from his skinny little body.
It took several seconds for me to realize that that incredibly high pitched sound was in fact a sound and was in fact coming from my little brother.
The doctor pushed the needle all the way in to Mark’s butt. He repositioned his hand, placing his thumb on the plunger and began injecting the serum. The sound stopped. Mark’s expression changed to one of utter self-absorbed startlement. The entire time the plunger was shoving the goop into his butt, Mark did not make a sound or a motion. For that matter, he never even took a breath. Finally, as the doctor was pulling the needle out, Mark began inhaling. And he inhaled and inhaled and inhaled. It seemed like he was sucking all the air out of the room. When at last his lungs were full, he let out a wail that I have no doubt could be heard all the way over in Toledo.
When the doctor set Mark back on his feet, I couldn’t help but notice that his little willy was swollen erect. Mesmerized, I watched the shaft bob up down with each wail.
Eventually, the doctor handed Mark his under shorts and steered him out the door.
The doctor picked up the last syringe and looked at me with a sadistic glint in his eye.
“Your turn, Randy.”
I gulped, moved to table, pulled down my underpants and bent over.
Doctor Beelman knelt behind me.
Two taps on the door interrupted my torment.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Doctor,” Nurse Heidi said as she popped her head around the door. I felt myself blushing. Not only from embarrassment but also somehow feeling like I had been caught here
bare-assed doing something I shouldn’t have been doing.
I should explain something about Nurse Heidi. I had had a crush on her for as long as I could remember. In fact, she had been our baby sitter all through her high school days when she was head cheerleader and homecoming queen. Then she went away to college and the next thing we knew she reappeared as Dr. Beelman’s nurse. Small world. Now here she was staring brazenly at my fresh young naked pubescent butt.
“Sorry, Doctor. There is a phone call from the hospital.”
“I’d better take that,” Doctor Beelman said as he stood up and replaced the syringe on the tray. “I’ll be right back, Randy.”
No problem. Take your time.
After they had both left the room, I collapsed on the table in utter relief. I knew my reprieve was only short lived, but I didn’t care. To the condemned man, any delay of the moment of execution is a godsend.
I pulled my underpants up and sat on the table facing away from the instrument of torture on the tray. At least, at first.
Why is it the things that most horrify us are also so absorbing? The thing that was soon to cause me so much agony lay on its bed of cotton cloth and beckoned me like Lorelei on the Rhine. It drew me to it. It demanded that I pick it up, study it, be awestruck by it. I was amazed at the weight of the loaded syringe. I was terrified by the length and thickness and sharpness of the needle. I dropped the syringe back on the tray and moved to the other side of the room.
There were two quick taps on the door before it opened and the love of my young loins re-entered.
“I’m sorry, Randy,” said Nurse Heidi. “Doctor Beelman has been called away to an emergency at the hospital.”
Yes! Thank you, lord! My youthful soul filled with ethereal lightness and rose to joyous heights.
“He suggested that I finish you up.”
Helium mutated to lead and my youthful soul crashed and burned. Oh, the humanity.
Nurse Heidi picked up my file and studied it closely. “Let’s see now. What are we up to? Oh, yes. I see.”
She put down the file and looked me square in the eyes.
“Take off your underpants and lie down on the table, Randy.”
For a moment, I thought she was going to laugh at the expression on my face. What I really hoped was that she would laugh and say “Just kidding.” No such luck.
“Come on, Randy. Don’t take all day. Let’s get this over with.”
Slowly, reluctantly, turned sideways to minimize my exposure, I slid my briefs down and stepped out of them. Maybe it was my imagination, but the whole time I felt Nurse Heidi was watching me closely. Surely she could have found someplace else to look. Surely the code of professional etiquette had something to say about minimizing your patient’s embarrassment by not staring at his body.
As quickly as humanly possible, I dove onto the table and lay on my stomach. The only problem now was that I had to lean to one side or the other to avoid crushing the log my penis had become. Well, that problem and the little one that my bare ass was exposed to the entire world.
“Before I give you your shot, Randy, I think I had better take your temperature.”
Well, that didn’t make any sense. Why did she tell me to lie on the table if she was going to take my …
Wait just one holy heck minute!
I looked back over my shoulder to see Heidi shaking down a thermometer.
It looked bigger and thicker than normal.
She caught me looking and gave me a reassuring smile.
“Yes, I know. I took it before the doctor looked at you. I just noticed in your file that the doctor made a note to recheck it since it was slightly elevated before.”
She opened a tin of Vaseline and plunged the thermometer into it.
“But…” I started. Why did she have to do it that way, I wanted to ask.
“I just want to make sure you don’t have a more serious fever. If your temperature is too high, you shouldn’t be getting this shot.”
That caught my attention. Perhaps there was a glimmer of hope after all. How can I make sure I have a fever? The only thing my adolescent brain could think of was to hold my breath and bear down real hard. Maybe that would heat up my blood enough to make it look like I had a fever.
So I held my breath and bore down real hard.
That lasted right up to the moment I felt her creamy smooth fingers spreading apart my butt cheeks. Her cool touch on my butt drove the breath out of me with a whoosh. Too bad, too. As cold as the glass of the thermometer felt when it touched my asshole, maybe my technique was actually working.
The slippery barrel of the thermometer slid easily in over the hyper-sensitive tissue of my anus. When it was all the way in, Heidi waited with her warm hand resting on my butt. Her fingers beat a soft rhythmic tattoo on one cheek, while her thumb brushed back and forth teasingly in my crack. After a moment, she adjusted the position of the thermometer, pulling it out a little, then pushing it in a little, then rotating it this way, then that way. Raising the exposed end, then pushing it down again. All of which I’m sure with legitimate medical justification, but the effect on me was down right criminal. If I didn’t change positions soon, my cock was going to burst.
At last (and yet too soon), the thermometer was unceremoniously withdrawn from my rectum. I had just enough self-control left to remember to pray for a fever. I held my breath, crossed my fingers, crossed my toes, crossed my ankles.
“Oh,” she said. “You do have a little fever.”
My hopes rose.
“But it’s not too bad. Just a little above normal. I don’t think that will be a problem.”
Hopes dashed, I buried my face in my hands.
Don’t look. Don’t look. But, of course, in the end I couldn’t help myself. Peeking back over my shoulder, I saw Heidi approaching with cotton ball in one hand and spike tipped syringe in the other.
I shouldn’t have looked. I buried my head in my hands again.
I jerked involuntarily when the icy swab touched my butt.
“Relax, Randy”, prompted Nurse Heidi. “Your bottom is so tense it could shatter.”
Right. Relax, relax, relax…
Heidi was trying to loosen my clenched glutes by massaging my butt with the cotton ball.
“It won’t hurt nearly as much if you can relax a little.”
“I’m trying!” I exclaimed, a lot louder than I intended.
“Ok,” she giggled. “Here we go then. Are you ready?”
I was to engrossed in chewing my lip to answer.
The shock of the needle plunging into my butt froze me solid. Fiber by fiber, I felt the needle being forced through rock solid muscle.
God that hurt.
My eyes filled with tears. My breath was coming in short staccato bursts.
Ok. Ok. I can do this. I can get through this.
Then, deep inside my gluteal muscle, a glowing warmth began to spread.
It flowed like lava. Intensified deepened hardened. Burst forth again.
I could hold it in no more. The pain in my bottom seared soared scorched.
“Oooowoowooowooow,” I cried.
“Owwaaaowwaaaowwaa,” I wailed.
Pretty soon, I stopped keeping track of the sounds coming out of me and just flat out bawled.
Even the needle being pulled out hurt like hell. Even the tender touch of cotton ball on wounded butt hurt.
Eventually, I calmed down enough to notice that it was all over. Struggling to regain what little dignity I could yet claim, I wiped my eyes and rose up on my knees.
“Wait just a moment, Randy,” Heidi said. “I’m a little concerned this treatment may have resulted in some unforeseen side effects.”
I turned to ask her what she meant and noticed she was staring at my crotch. Following her gaze, I discovered my willy at full attention. More rigid, in fact than I could ever remember its being. The head was almost purple. Every heartbeat caused the little fellow to bounce up and down like it had a life of its own, which I guess it did. Deep within my loins I felt a strange dangerous compacted feeling. I had had erections before, of course, but usually they were associated with a full bladder. This was the first one that I somehow knew had a purpose in life, a reason for being, an obtainable goal.
I looked at Heidi, not sure whether to be scared or embarrassed.
“I think we’d better do something about that,” Heidi said seriously. “We wouldn’t want that condition to get out of hand.”
Now I started to get a little nervous. I looked down at my pulsing member like it was a ticking bomb.
“Lean forward on your elbows.”
Starting to get a little scared, I leaned forward planting my elbows on the crinkled paper that covered the table. This new position of course caused my butt to tighten, which of course caused my butt to hurt, which of course caused me to remember what got me into this predicament in the first place. Which strangely enough caused willy to pulse even more. I hoped that whatever Heidi had in mind would relieve the pressure before my little friend exploded.
A peculiar squirting sound caused me to look back over my shoulder at Heidi who I saw squeezing the contents of a tube out onto her finger. After spreading the gelatinous goo over the entire surface, she pointed the shiny digit straight up and came towards me. So far, none of this was doing a thing towards relieving my problem.
Heidi draped her left arm over my hips and spread my cheeks wide with the fingers of her left hand. I nearly jumped off the table when she touched her greased finger to my butthole. She rubbed her finger teasingly back and forth across my puckered anus.
“Just relax, Randy,” she said. “I’m just going to check the state of your prostate.”
I didn’t know what that was but it sure seemed like a strange place to keep it.
Without warning, the tip of her finger penetrated past my sphincter. Slowly, firmly, determinedly, the living digit pushed its way up inside of me until at last the rest of Heidi’s hand pressed against my butt cheeks. For a moment she kept her finger still. Then, ever so slowly, she began twisting it back and forth, left and right, flexing it within the narrow confines of my anal passage. With gradually intensifying rhythm, she pulled her finger almost all the way out and then pushed it all the way in again, over and over. Every molecule of my ultra-sensitive rectal tissue stood at rank attention, clinging to every mound and groove of her finger.
If this was supposed to be relieving the pressure in my cock, it was definitely not working. In fact, though I wouldn’t have believed it possible, the effect was just the opposite. Every motion pumped more and more blood into my thoroughly engorged member.
Suddenly, all the strength in my body evaporated. I lost awareness of any sensation at all. My entire being collapsed into the black hole that opened up deep within my loins. Building, expanding, erupting,
torrents of hot sticky fluid spasmed from the head of my penis. Over and over it shot out, with such force it smacked into my face.
At last, I slumped on the table like a sock puppet, exhausted, totally spent.
Heidi pulled her finger from my anus. She used a tissue to clean off her finger, then wiped all residue of lubricant and whatever else from my bottom. Finally, using a clean tissue, she gently wiped the sticky cum from my face.
“There now, Randy,” she said, trying not to smile. “That wasn’t so bad was it?”
It certainly made me forget all about the pain in my butt.