Johnny Marcello slumped on the bench outside the school surgery. As the minutes ticked by his fear mounted. He kept thinking of the conversation with another 18 year old, Mike Campbell. Mike played with him on the football team . Mike was a good athlete, a handsome fella, with a good build . Normally confident. But yesterday when he had returned to the classroom after seeing the school’s visiting doctor he had seemed traumatized.

“She said it’s a survey into adolescent health,” mumbled a distrait Campbell, “But it was totally, you know, humiliating.”

“Yes, but does she make you…you know…strip off?” asked Johnny, full of anxiety.

Campbell could barely get the words out. “It’s worse than that .” He refused to say anything else. He seemed too hurt.

And now it was Johnny’s turn. All he could think about waiting in the corridor was that it was a female doctor. A woman . He had never faced this before. There was a sinister, creepy feeling about the prospect of a female doctor making him take his clothes off.

Three senior girls sauntered past.

“Marcello…!”

“…to the doctor!”

“Oh my God!”

“I hope it’s our turn!”

“Hope it’s as good as Campbell’s!”

And they doubled up, roaring with cruel girls’ laughter.

Before he could reflect on this deepening mystery the frosted door opened and Doctor Speight appeared. “Johnny Marcello? Thanks for being punctual. Come right in, please.”

Talk about business-like. Everything about her suggested she was to be obeyed.

Doctor Speight was in her 50s, large bosomed, somewhat stern with her hair in a bun and glasses hanging around her neck. She wore a crisp white coat. Johnny’s stomach was in turmoil and his eyes darted with terror. He nervously took in the small, compact surgery with its desk covered in files . There was an examination table and, in one corner, a screen .

“We’ve got to get you back to your class as soon as we can, so let’s get into it,” said the doctor. “No time to waste. ”

She explained that her visit to the school was part of a health survey, as well as being for personal medical check-ups for the boys. Or, at least, she added, ” the most athletic and mature ones .”Johnny was a little puzzled by that. Why not all the boys? And what about the girls? Wasn’t their health important?

She added that the survey element meant it was going to be a particularly thorough examination.

Johnny’s stomach turned over. His guts felt they were turning to water. This is what he – in fact, every male his age – dreaded : being ” examined ” by a female doctor or nurse without clothes – and, let’s be frank, getting an erection. And Johnny had, he thought, a particular reason to fear a full body examination. He was stiff most of the time and would certainly never be able to keep it down and soft in front of a lady doctor. But worse, his cock was very unusual, or at least that’s what he thought.

It was a six incher, somewhat thick, and with a extra-large plumpish head. Like a particularly spongy mushroom. So far no problem. But when erect – which seemed to be its natural state – it curved inward decisively, to point back at its owner. It looked just like a big ripe banana. When it sprang up in the showers after football or swimming it got the other boys’ attention and rapidly became the subject of conversation. “Banana prick” was the inevitable jest from naked boys who would rather have a mate’s penis discussed than their own. That was par for the course but what would a fucking female doctor make of this…this little deformity? It was something he had always worried about.

Then came the instruction he had dreaded for about the last five years.

“Go behind the screen and strip off .”

He winced, as if struck in the face.

He walked in a stupor, almost hypnotized, and found himself behind the screen slowly loosening his tie. As he moved to shirt buttons he felt a prickle of pure terror. And it didn’t fade as the trousers joined his shirt on the chair. Looking down at his BVDs he quietly resolved to test his luck.

Leaving them on – the last cover of his modesty – he hesitated. Then he took three faltering steps, emerging from the screen to present himself .

Lifting her head from the paperwork on her desk Dr Speight gave him one look and said, ” Oh, I think we can take those off as well…”

Her tone suggests she is used to dealing with the wiles of schoolboys with false notions of modesty. And using authority to make them take off all their clothes. No matter how reluctant the young men might be to stand bare as a board in front of a matronly woman medico.

“…This is a serious examination and I haven’t got X-ray eyes.”

Johnny Marcello again looks like he’s been slapped : his face freezes in exquisite pain. In shock, he retreats behind the screen. He’s flushed with panic. A spooky feeling of agitation fills him. She’s ordered him to appear completely naked. Without so much as a fig leaf…starkers…in front of her, a woman, a female, a lady doctor.

Moving as if in a trance Johnny slips thumbs into his waistbands. He hesitates like a frightened animal. But what can he do? So slowly, slowly, slowly he slides his underpants down his legs. He steps out of them and hangs them on the chair.

Johnny Marcello is in his birthday suit. As nude as Michelangelo’s David. And more frightened than if he were facing Goliath. He can feel the air around his cock and balls. He feels very, very naked. He keeps thinking of the old expression, ” as naked as the day he was born . ” He thinks of his Italian- descended, traditional Catholic mother seeing him like this – and quickly banishes the dirty thought.

He takes a deep breath.

Like a schoolboy to a spanking he moves sluggishly out from the screen, this time to present himself to this formidable lady- the age, incidentally, of his Mom – in puris naturalibus. Desperately, as soon as he thinks of it, he throws his hands in front of his genitalia.

A Venus-pose. He hopes it looks natural . The obvious place to hang them, after all . Almost appearing an innocent afterthought. Folded, they might just cover the timberline of glistening pubic hair. Might even help cover an eventual erection.

Doctor Speight looks up to eye him through the glasses poised on the tip of her nose.

“That’s the boy ,” she says. looking right at him. Johnny blushes deeper than he has ever blushed in his life – and he is a natural blusher. But at least he’s got himself sort of covered.

“Now let’s weigh you. Up on the scales, John .”

Hands rigid before his member, Johnny awkwardly turns to cross the room. But – uh oh – he realizes he’s presenting the doctor with a picture- perfect view of his white globes right smack in her line of vision. The humiliation, he thinks, she can see all of my bare behind, my bum cheeks. As he hobbles onto the scales he’s also aware his loose scrotal sac is swinging slightly but at least his cock is limp…for now.

Please don’t let it get hard, he prays.

He stands on the scales staring fixedly ahead. With a clipboard the doctor moves to his side. Close – he can feel her fill the airspace.

“Let’s see. Yes, an average weight for a boy of your age. ” She writes on her notepad .

“Now over by the wall and we’ll take your height. ”

Hands in front Johnny moves to the measuring rod. He still suffers that unique tingle of fear in his guts : tense horror at being totally stitchless In front of a lady. The doctor aligns the measure with the top of his head – he feels her breath on his shoulders – and makes another note.

“Good. Now we’ll take measurements around your chest, waist and hips. Sooo… if you’ll just place your hands on your head .”

Again he registers an exquisite look of astonishment.

Once again, no alternative but to obey. Trembling he raises his arms to his head, revealing armpits bursting with proud black hair. And exposing lower down his scroll of pubic bush. Dangling from it is now revealed his wide young bratwurst, the foreskin covering the entire head, meeting at the tip in an irregular rosy pucker.

He is now completely open to her gaze. But she is over at her desk looking for something.

She swings back towards him with a tape measure. She keeps her eyes up, deliberately it seems, to avoid staring at his lily-white privates. Standing right in front of the scared, buck-naked 18 year-old she now encloses his upper body with outstretched arms and tape, pinching the two ends together. Just under his left armpit. He shudders, nearly jumps, at the tickle Turns beet red. This is terrible, just terrible.

He is beginning to think that something might be stirrring in his loins…

Doctor Speight, finished with his chest, now moves lower, slipping the encircling tape down Johnny’s trunk to his midriff where she repeats the exercise. Bet her eyes are feasting on me, he thinks, as he stares resolutely ahead. She can see everything a fella can call his own – my cock, my hair, my balls. Bet she’s going to make some king of fuss about me not being circumcised.

His self control is now being challenged.

The tingle of air around his unclothed genitals.

His top to toe nudity which, in his childhood in a very strict Catholic home, was always associated with being naughty. Being rude. Being disgusting and obscene.

Inevitably with such thoughts Johnny’s prick begins to thicken. To start, it’s barely perceptible. That big fleshy head with the grinning slit just protrudes a little from the foreskin as if to ask, ” Hi, what’s going on here? ”

Then it pushes further out, as the foreskin withdraws back along the shaft…which has now also decided to lengthen. Unmistakably, to lengthen.

This is a nightmare, thinks Johnny, she’s bending right over it. Right in her line of vision, inches away . She must be noticing that I’m beginning to ge a hard-on!

The doctor, however, is all business. She almost prattles, “We’re making a comprehensive record of how males your age develop. Sooo…all these measurements come in useful.”

Johnny is willing his prick to subside, marshalllng every fibre of self restraint. But it is at the point where that fleshy head – actually now at its full circumference – is lifting from the balls. Up and away! Always the crucial stage, the point of no return.

Please don’t shame me in front of a woman doctor, he orders his dick, please…what will she think? But Johnny’s prick is really stretching now. The skin tugs back along its shaft. It is pointing to the floor, at the angle of a slippery slide in a playground.

Fortunately she has finished with the tape and is making notations. ” Our aim is to chart growth from year to year,” she says concentrating on filling in the spaces. ” A very interesting exercise given that the male body at your age is at such a sensitive stage….”

There is sweat on Johnny’s brow as he attempts a triumph of the will. But his manhood continues to assert itself, sinews stretching to full length to stick out defiantly. And to swing into that curve, in one final pulse to point accusingly back at Johnny’s flat abs .

Stre…etch!

A final stiffening and he is sporting a stubborn, beam-hard erection, not quite your 45 degree textbook stiffy, given that banana -bend which is his distinguishing feature. But by any test, his membrum virile is well and truly there for all to see.

“Oh, you can put your hands down now,” she says with what Johnny recognizes as a sickly sweet tone. Probably suppressing a giggle at my embarrassment, he thinks. She is determinedly not looking down at his jutting meat. But he knows she knows, that is, about his embarrassment ; for one thing, because her manner has switched from businesslike efficiency to one of infinite understanding. A sort of maternal understanding. Sounding like one of those modern, educated, mothers who knows all about their son’s challenges, from nocturnal emissions and stained sheets and bulges in the fronts of their pajamas to bashful first dates.

And there is a hint of a smile.

She looks Johnny right in his moist, terrified eyes and says : “Now, John, the survey requires that I take a measurement below the waist….”

Johnny thinks, she’s gonna measure my dick!

“…that is, from your hip to knees, knees to feet. So if you make sure you’re standing very straight….”

That’s the problem, he thinks, I am straight – straight as an arrow and I can’t do anything about it! It’s jutting put, right at her!

The doctor bends in front of him. Johnny sees only the top of her head . Horrified he watches her kneel. He feels her press the end of the tape to the inside of his trembling thigh. He gapes but no sound comes out. Her thumb and forefinger are holding the tape in place…up there between his balls and calves!

Johnny’s stubborn young manhood rears above her, like an artillery piece on a battle cruiser. In fact, in such a sensitive spot her touch sends a few more jolts into his rigid prick and renders it, if possible, even harder. Oh no, he thinks, oh Christ ! He screws his eyes shut.

As she continues with the measurements he realises how ridiculous he must look, standing entirely naked, cock reared for action. He suddenly has a vision of his Mom seeing him now, in this condition, disgraced and shamed with a woman doctor. Sees all his private areas exposed and the doctor inches from this awful thing, his raging erection.

Then he has another shameful vision. A wicked little
fantasy that he has locked onto for as long as he can remember. He is there, buck-naked with his banana-shaped erection on display, and a party of girls from his class and his neighborhood are standing in front of him. Some of them, friends of his sisters. Neatly dressed in their school clothes, of course. Bright, successful students. Each staring greedily at his funny-shaped boner, nudging one another. Giggling in that , ruttish, girly way ; never taking their mocking eyes off his curved flesh standing absurdly to attention above the furry sack – which they also begin to find curious. And point at. Giggling because they find it as funny as his cock.

All of them dressed, of course. And he naked as a jay.

Being stripped nude before fully dressed, confident, grinning girls his own age – this is a notion that has often played in the back of his imagination, a smutty masturbation fantasy he has returned to more often than any other.

This dirty little thought sends some more electric currents through his gut, into his balls and out to the tip of his prick.

Johnny opens his eyes and sees Doctor Speight now upright and updating her notes. Well, he thinks, she certainly got an eye-full. No female has seen me down there since my mother and sister used to come into the bathroom when I was a kid, he thinks. I have never been so humiliated. And the thing’s still hard as ever.

Finished with her notes the doctor now faces her prey, looking him straight in the eyes, as if forcing herself not to have her vision drawn once again to the area of the poor lad’s shame.

Soothingly, again in the tone of a sweet understanding mother, she says to him : ” Now there’s just one other measurement we should take while we’re at this. There is absolutely nothing to be ashamed about but during growing up young men find their bodies change very quickly, especially with the changes down here….”

For the first time he sees her drop her gaze on his blood-hardened projection. This cannot be happening, he thinks with a visible shudder.

Again her tone is that of a very enlightened mother talking to a troubled teenage son. ” You found some years ago you developed hair around your genitals…” To illustrate the point her fingers brushed the edge of his bush. Looking right at it she goes on . “…and it looks like your penis and testicles have developed normally … And if you ever find yourself worrying about the bend in your penis, DON’T!”

She looked him in the eye and said : ” The male organ comes in all shapes and sizes and bends are not at all unknown. At a guess I would say one boy in 20 in your school would have either an outward or an inward angulation on his penis when erect, although few as strong as yours. But it is not Peyrorie’s disease and It is important you know it has no effect on a male’s capacity to enter a woman and have sexual congress….”

Johnny was suffering waves of deep blushing and his eyes were filling with tears, so acute was his shame at having his condition discussed while stark naked and inches from this doctor.

“…and as for involuntary erections like the one you have now, relax. Totally commonplace – especially in medical examinations, and especially with a woman doctor or nurse. In fact, we feel kind of flattered with such attention from a healthy young male . An athletic young man like you. ”

Her smile was devastating. He dropped his gaze. One tear actually spilled onto his cheek.

“Now, I’ll just check for hernia.”

Johnny’s eyes screwed shut again while the doctor delicately handled each ball in his tightened bag. Oh my God, he thought, if she knew the dirty pleasure I get from nightime thoughts about being stripped off in front of girls my own age, I wonder what she would think of me. I wonder what therapy she would recommend for a dirty mind like mine ; she might be able to see my stiff dick right now but thank the Lord she cannot read my filthy mind.

And he started to think again about his sister and her friends, all in their neat uniforms…smart 18- year old girls from his street and his class… getting a glimpse of him right now, a dumb sportsman, bare as a board with a lady doctor giving his hairy balls a good, drawn-out examination. Stretching the skin, fondling the delicate marbles. All while his cock was rampant. And he absolutely without a stitch. That was the key to it, whenever he summoned up this fantasy, which he had been doing on a regular basis since he started masturbating at age 12 or 13 : in his smutty private thoughts, he was the one in the nude and the girls were always completely dressed and enjoying that status and his buck-naked humiliation.

It has got to be ending soon, he was hoping as the doctor made a note about the health of his testicles. But…

“Now let’s just measure your growth down there.”

Whaaaaat? But incredibly it was happening. Johnny felt her press the end of the tape hard against his pubic bone – right in there with his hair – and stretch it along the curved, rock-hard length of his penis. Oh Jesus, he thought with his eyes screwed shut. If my mother could see her son having this done to him, in the raw, with a woman doctor. If my mother could see my shame…could see my stiff prick….

Meanwhile Doctor Speight struggled to accommodate the banana-bend, pressing the tape flat along the upper side of his appendage and making a third attempt before announcing, ” Six inches! Absolutely normal. Of course you may continue to grow even more. And remember, nothing to fret about in that curvature. It has no effect on function. And now…the circumference….”

Johnny endured what he was daring to hope was the final part of this horrible experience. And, with this measurement completed and recorded, there seemed to be a lull. Indeed the doctor went to the desk and made a quick call to – he thought – the principal’s secretary, something along the lines of ” being ready now. ” Presumably for the next poor sucker and his ritual humiliation.

But she returned to her current victim and, with a hand on the small of his back, steered Johnny, his cock still pointing hard at his belly, across to the examination table. He felt strange, walking under her direction totally nude with a stiff dick out in front. “A bit more work to do before we’re finished,” she said, in a coaxing tone. “Up we get, and lie flat on your back please.”

As Johnny lowered himself he was conscious of his rubber-hard erection being more obvious than ever, its curved underside with it’s big artery now exposed for the doctor’s delectation and approval. His mind began to drift again, to thoughts of what his mother would make of this.

And inevitably to his wicked but thrilling imaginings about being on display, nude and erect just like this, to a party of girls. Always in this fantasy, girls fully dressed. Indeed neatly dressed, right down to their perfectly pressed and pleated skirts and white ankle-length socks – their being like this, the most necessary part of his mental porn show .

It was a delicious fantasy and a distraction from his current dilemma. But he thought again how good it was a doctor can’t read our minds.

Meanwhile she had been saying something in that succoring, maternal voice. Something about a challenging new curriculum for senior girls in the school…on trial here before being applied in other schools in the county…all about lifting performance in biology…getting more final year girls to think of medicine as a career. He had barely been paying attention.

“Sooo… the principal thought of combining these special medical examinations for the senior boys like you with a special booster program for the most promising senior girl biology students.”

Suddenly she had the boy’s undivided attention. He felt a new wave of alarm.

Johnny was lying on the table. His penis was in its unapologetically bent and rock-hard state. The doctor was standing at the head of the table. He could see her upsidedown, looking at him from above as she continued her cooing talk, now turning in a very disturbing direction indeed.

What was she getting at?

“Girls this age are very mature. They have three years of human biology behind them. They can be – in my experience – very serious and studious. There is absolutely no pedagogical reason not to implement the policy the curriculum committee has approved .”

She paused. She had Johnny’s undivided attention. He was in fact feeling tremors of real horror.

“As for the boys,” she continued. ” Well, there is a whole body of psychological work about the benefit of total clothing deprivation of young males in the presence of females – mothers, teachers, doctors, aunts, even females their own age….”

There was a sudden commotion at the frosted glass door. Johnny lifted his head in alarm and saw the shadows of half a dozen figures – all female – and heard a knocking that sounded it would not take no for an answer.

“COME IN ” pronounced Doctor Speight very decisively. At the same time, bending her ample chest right over him, she fiercely took hold of both Johnny’s wrists and wrested them back to plant them on the table behind his head. Her grip was formidable. There would be no question of him shielding himself. No Venus-pose this time round. No desperate cover-up with his hands.

Which, would otherwise have been his instant response, as he saw the door open and the girls’ senior year biology tutorial surge in, all with clipboards that seemed to mimic Doctor Speight’s and with a determination in their eyes to make the most of a hands-on, up-close practical biology lesson. Devoted to the male body. At least their teacher, Miss Simpson, who also had a lively gleam in her eyes, had the courtesy to close the door behind them.

Not for the first time today, Johnny screwed his own eyes shut. His old friend the doctor had not released her grip on his arms and he was aware that six girls from his year at this school had an unobstructed view of his body crown to sole, and one hundred percent nude.

Miss Simpson was thanking the doctor for her help and even – this was outrageous – thanking Johnny Marcello for his co-operation. She was even beginning to talk about the human skeleton.

Johnny opened his eyes. In the circle of girls he instantly recognized loudmouthed Marjorie Homestead who lived at the bottom of his street and played womens’ soccer with his sister. He saw freckle-faced, red-haired Larissa Carstairs who he had teased and mocked since they had started high school together. He saw tall, skinny Diane Pallen who he felt had always pined after him but whom he thought repulsive. He saw…oh no, his sister herself, grinning broadly, her eyes wide as saucers and directing a laser beam of prurient interest right at his middle.

He clamped his eyes shut again. Miss Simpson was saying something about the shape of his sternum. None of them was looking at his sternum.

And they were all so neatly dressed.

end –