It’s true I had been putting off going to the doctor for my annual check-up. In fact I had skipped two years in a row so I figured it was high time to do something about it. I called the clinic, made an appointment and showed up on the agreed upon date and hour.

As usual I was too hurried and short of time that day to prepare myself properly. Oh sure, I washed, showered, put on clean clothes and underwear, even hurriedly shaved an extra time before leaving around noon. But as I sat leafing through the medical journals in the waiting area, I couldn’t help but notice that my nails needed trimming. Looking lower I saw that my shoes could have used a shine as well. I just hoped that the doctor wasn’t one of those persons my mother had always been warning me about since my earliest childhood : someone who judged others by the condition of their footwear.

I had never known the doctor to stare at my shoes as I came in for my check-ups. It was just my body she was interested in. And then unfortunately only in certain parts, none of them particularly naughty or interesting. Well, once or twice she had probed rather deep to assess for the presence of glandular swelling in the groin, but she was so prim and proper that she just fumbled around under my briefs without asking me to take them off or even lower them. While doing so she must have noticed the lacked absence of pubic hair on my part, but aside from giving me a funny look, she neither said nor indicated anything.

Actually I thought that a shame. The doctor, Dominique B. was a rather nice looking lady of exactly my own age, give or take a week. Last time I saw her, she wore her dark hair cropped short in a sort of unisex cut, something my former wife and I jokingly used to call a ‘young man’s’ style. If not for her ample bosom and nicely curved bottom and legs, from a distance she might have passed for a feminine looking male.. Up close there was of course no mistaking her gender, smooth face, full lips and all. She was very attractive, if somewhat overworked and harried-looking, and at times I wondered what it would be like if we both could have ‘played doctor’ in a more private and less serious setting.

But those were just reveries, something to amuse myself with in dull moments in waiting rooms.
 
 
 
 

I was just back from the rest room, having carefully wiped the tip of my penis clean with some toilet paper so as not to leave any stain on my briefs, when a nurse called for me. She took me down a neon lit corridor and held open a door. “The doctor is inside, just go on in…”

Doctor Dominique B. was sitting behind a desk, stacks of paper and x-rays to each side of her. I noticed that she still wore her hair cut short. She was hurriedly leafing through a very thick dossier (mine as it turned out), mumbling softly to herself as she consulted various pages.

“Ah, Mr. Gracier. It’s been a while. I hope nothing serious has happened in the meanwhile ?” She stood up with outstretched hand.

If my problems had been anything of a medical nature, she would have been the first to hear about them I assured her. No, the last few years my difficulties had been of a more personal nature. Separations can turn into emotionally messy affairs, long drawn out and very unpleasant. Mine hadn’t been one of the painless sorts.

I circumspectly hinted that I was now living alone and that sometimes things could get rather hectic from lack of time. “There is so much to take care of when you’re on your own. Never enough time.”

She nodded as if understanding and returned to consulting the dossier. “I see it’s been three years since your last check-up here. Any problems in the meanwhile…?”

I was half of a mind to complain about the hardships of forced abstinence and the limited appeal of auto-erotic activity, but as usual my nerve failed me. “Nothing of a strictly medical nature….” I tried hinting, but it was wasted on the doctor. She was already into her serious mode.

“Hmmm….any illnesses or such …?”

We went through the doctor-patient routine. I usually end up minimizing any medical problems I have, shrugging them off in a light hearted manner. At least this time there wasn’t anything serious to report to begin with.

“All right, let’s get your vitals, shall we ?” The doctor asked me to take off my shirt and climb up on the exam table. She took my blood pressure, listened to my heart (pounding away a mile a minute from unrequited lust…ha ha) and lungs, probed my neck, armpits, abdomen etc. She had me loosen my belt and lay down. As before, she discretely fingered my pubis and groin. I noticed her hesitate for a moment as she was sticking her fingers into my abdomen. She pursed her lips (not to blow me any kiss I’m afraid) and silently sighed as if wondering about something. She looked very serious as if contemplating something unpleasant. I didn’t like the looks of this. It wasn’t her normal style.

“Everything seems to be OK, generally speaking,” she announced. “But per routine I’ll have a full blood test done and x-rays as well. I think we can forego a CAT scan this time, your last one was recent enough.”

Well that was good news. Not that a CAT scan was any hardship mind you. But it was time consuming and worry about the results was always the worst part.

“However Mr. Gracier, you are of an age when certain other…ah…precautions must be taken.” She didn’t seem to know how to proceed and looked ill at ease. “It may seem disagreeable, but I would strongly advise you undergo a more detailed …ahem… genital-rectal examination.” She was talking softly now and staring at a point above my head, probably uncertain how I might react. “Attention should certainly be paid to the prostate gland, as unpleasant as it may sound. Especially in …ah.…single males….”

Upon my word, the doctor was shy. I had to suppress a smile. Instead I gave her a serious look, as if I were ready to look Fate right in the eyes.

“A detailed examination is indicated in your case I fear. If you like, you can think about it and I can refer you to another colleague…”

“Oh, then I’d have to come back again another day ?”

“Yes, I suppose so.” She looked relieved that I hadn’t burst out in hysterics.

“Well, how about today ? I’m here already.”

That was a curve ball coming out of left field, if you don’t mind me mixing my metaphors. She was doubly surprised though. “Now ? Oh I don’t think my colleague is available right now. He’s most likely fully booked today.”

He ? Yech. In principal I had nothing against male doctors fumbling around with me, even ’down there’. But somehow they all turned out to be long overdue-for-their-pension, cigar-smoking, hairy-handed oafs. Not my type at all. Sometimes I even thought that a nice-looking gay doctor would be preferable.

No, no. There had to be another option. “Couldn’t you take care of it, doctor ?” I innocently asked.

She had a funny look on her face, between being flustered and flattered. “Well, I suppose I could, but….” here she consulted an appointment ledger, “you would have to wait a while until I’ve finished my other patients.”

I shrugged. “If need be…”

Then she thought of something else. “And we’ll have to prep you for the… ah…..interior aspects of the examination. That would take a while anyway….” The doctor arched her eyebrows trying to gauge my reaction. Of course I knew what she was referring to, but I wanted to play the innocent a while longer. That an enema of sorts would be necessary was something I had already figured out. But the doctor couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.

“That’s fine. Whatever you say….” I said meekly.

“Well….then that’s settled, I suppose. I’ll call one of the nurses and she’ll take care of you. Is that all right?”

“Sure,” I said accommodatingly.

“We’ll have her draw blood as well. Two birds with one stone, eh ?” She smiled as if making a joke.
 
 
 
 

Well, well. I had pulled it off after all these years. I was finally going to have lovely Doctor Dominique B. give my naughty parts a good looking-in to. And in more ways than one. He he.

I waited in the doctor’s office until one of the nurses came to get me. She was far younger than I, but probably well versed in the ways of the world, or at least in the ins and outs of patient care. The doctor explained what was required in very soft tones. The nurse looked my way with the ghost of a smile on her face.

“All right Mr. Gracier, just come along with me, if you please.”

I stood up, my upper body still unclothed. The nurse looked over to the doctor, but she was already occupied with another dossier and paid us no notice. I went over to the nurse, who seemed to be debating whether to say anything. She apparently decided not to, and stepped to the side as I went out the door.

I followed her through the hallway into another corridor and into yet another non-descript door. “I’m nurse Christine, Mr. Gracier. Has the doctor explained I am to prep you for the exam she is going to do ?”

I nodded solemnly. “More or less…”

“Hmmm…probably less,” she muttered under her breath. “Well, in any case we have to make sure your lower colonic tract is relatively clean since that’s how the doctor will access your ah….interior glands.”

“OK,” I said.

“You are aware of what the examination entails ?”

“Generally speaking. I suppose so.”

Her eyes looked questioning. “Well specifically speaking she’ll be doing an exterior genital exam, no special preparation needed for that. I do take it you’ve washed ?”

“Oh most certainly…copiously in fact…” I gave her a stern smile.

“Good. But the rectal and prostate examinations are a bit more invasive. You do understand that the prostate gland must be accessed per anum ?”

Such circumspect language coming from a nurse. And she even knew her Latin declensions. Good for her. I tried to look meekly subdued and nodded. “Oh yes. That’s how I thought it was done.”

“Good. It’s also probable the doctor may need samples.”

“Samples ?”

“Yes, urine and …ahh…other secretions….”

“Ah…I see….” I really did too but wondered how the doctor was going to go about obtaining the latter. Surely in the manner I hoped ?

“Now, if you’ll wait here a moment, I’ll be right back with the necessary equipment.”

I nodded, the soul of cooperation.

“Oh yes, perhaps if you’d remove your shoes and lie down on the exam table over there ?”

Again I nodded, wondering if that was all I’d have to be taking off. If so, it looked like the doctor and this nurse were more concerned with my notions of modesty than was really necessary. I did as she asked and sat down on the linen covered table.

A few minutes later nurse Christine came back with several items. She had placed them on a rolling metal trolley. I saw a Fleet enema among the objects and made a face.

“Now, now, Mr. Gracier. This is nothing to be concerned about. Just a little water to help clean you out. You’ll hardly feel anything at all.”

That was exactly what I was concerned about. A Fleet WAS hardly more than a little bit of water, though she forgot to mention the supposedly irritating solution it contained.

“Oh no, it’s not that,” I said with a sheepish grin on my face.

Now it was her turn to smile. “Well, there’s a private cubicle you can use. Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you use a bedpan.”

That was something I hadn’t even considered. I waived that consideration away with a non-concerned flick of my hand. “No, you see it’s just that Fleets don’t really work all that well for me…”

She misunderstood me and tried to allay my misgivings. “Oh come now, they’re not all that horrid. They contain just a little bit of water and the nozzles are very small indeed. You’ll hardly feel it being inserted.”

That was just the trouble as far as I was concerned. “That’s not what I mean, Nurse. It’s just that Fleets don’t have much of an effect on me, I’m afraid.”

She looked puzzled. “What do you mean ? We have to get your bowels cleaned out someway or another. It’s either that or a large capacity flushing you know, a one liter clyster at least.”

Was that all ? I hoped she wasn’t trying to scare me. She would have to do better than that. “Oh ? Well that’s what I usually do anyway…at home….” I tried to say it in a deadpan voice but it came out a little uncertainly. I had to cough at the end of the sentence.

Nurse Christine’s face glowed with naughty understanding. “Ohhh….I see Mr. Gracier.” She narrowed her eyes and bobbed her head up and down. “Why didn’t you say so ? Not many of our patients admit to taking enemas on their own.”

“Oh really ?” I replied innocently. “I thought it was a well-nigh universal practice.”

“No, not really. At least not in my experience. Actually I’ve found patients will try almost any kind of nonsense to get out of having one administered.”

Silly patients. They didn’t know what they were missing, now did they ? “I don’t see the hardship…”

“The embarrassment is a more apt term I think,” she said, hands on her hips. “Well, are you sure about this now ? No Fleet ?”

“I’d prefer not. It would be a wasted effort.”

‘Very well. I’ll go and get something more appropriate then.” I got the impression that far from being put off by my request, she was pleased in a way. At least she didn’t seem to resent the extra work it entailed.

As nurse Christine was off to find the necessary equipment, I contemplated my actions. To say they were out of character was an understatement. I had no idea where my audacity came from. Maybe from living single for so long ?

I was beginning to regret my impetuousness when nurse Christine came back, rolling an IV stand and carrying a red rubber enema bag with tubing. She put the bag down on the exam table, next to me, presumably so I could get a good look. I liked what I saw.

Out of her pockets she took a few packets of what I presumed to be soap and several black nozzles. These she also placed so I could study them. None were very small in diameter I noticed. I wondered if she had chosen these larger ones on purpose. Most likely she had, I concluded when I saw the look on her face. It was rather wanton, all things considered. Much like the naughty look like my former wife would sport after she’d consented to engaging in a game of hide-the-salami or something similar.

“This was the only equipment I could find on short notice, I’m afraid.” She looked me in the eye, daring me to back out.

“OK, fine.”

She nodded. “I’m going to prepare the solution. Warm water and soap….”

What I had expected. “Yes, fine. You’re in charge.”

She half snorted, half laughed. “That’s nice to hear for a change. While I prepare everything, I’d like you to remove your trousers and lie down on your left side.”

Now we were getting to the good part. I had already removed my shoes as per her previous instructions, so now I unbuckled my belt and dropped my pants, stepping out of them. I still had my briefs on and was trying to figure out what to do : remove them as well or leave them on for the while being. If so, I could imitate a midget pup-tent, my prick playing the role of tent pole.

I always felt either ridiculous or incredibly turned-on while only wearing briefs with a raging hard-on. It must have had something to do with my teen-age experimentation with sex and girls. For some reason or other the girls I had fooled around with, never objected to heavy duty petting and mutual genital exploration as long as panties and briefs were kept on, even when pulled down all the way to our ankles.

I looked down at my groin, though I needed no visual confirmation to know I was stiff and erect. My briefs were so skimpy they were pushed out in front of me, not leaving much to the imagination. I decided to throw all caution to the winds and quickly removed them as well.

So there I was, nicely naked, except for a pair of socks. I wondered if I hadn’t gone too far, so while Nurse Christine still had her back turned to me, I hopped up onto the examination table and tried crossing my legs to hide my exposed and erect prick.

I suppose I should have been awarded an ‘A’ for effort and an ‘F’ for results. I finally crossed hands over my groin, pressing the erection up against my belly with my wrists. It didn’t conceal much in the end, but at least I thought it provided the impression that I was trying to be suitably chaste and unoffending.

It didn’t fool Nurse Christine though. As she was hanging the bulging enema bag to the IV stand she gave me the once over. “Tsk tsk, Mr. Gracier. There was no need to remove your briefs you know…at least not yet. The nurse usually handles that aspect.”

I bet she handled a lot of other aspects as well when she wanted to. But far from being annoyed or irked it seemed like she was teasing me. “You may as well put your hands at your side. I’ve seen more naked men than you can shake a stick at.”

I did as she asked and shifted position, leaning over forward.

“Hmmm…you’re not here for another procedure are you, Mr. Gracier ?” she asked.

“Goodness, I hope not. Why do you ask ?”

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice you’re clean shaven….around the genitals that is….you’re not due for a vasectomy, are you ?”

“Oh no….not at all,” I chuckled, though a vasectomy was not a laughing matter in my book. “I just like to…keep clean as it were…you understand ?”

Oh, she understood all right, the look in her eyes turning even naughtier than before. “Oh, I see…you mean as a sort of erotic thing I take it ?”

I smiled back exaggeratedly. “Actually more of a hygienic thing ….”

“Of course,” she answered, but I could see I wasn’t fooling her. “Well, it certainly is much cleaner, I’ll grant you that. Not many patients follow the practice that I know of. No males and few females except for professional models and other…professionals…” She was referring to the ‘ladies of the night’ that worked the old harbor area. Her voice trailed off. “A pity really, genitals do look better without hair : cleaner, more healthy….”

I couldn’t have agreed more. I half expected her to confess she did the same, but she confided nothing about her personal habits.

She looked at my groin pointedly. “Do you mind if I take a closer look ?”

I shrugged, wanting nothing more at the moment.

“Maybe if you would lean back and spread your legs a bit ….?”

I complied, trying to hide a grin. Unconcernedly she took hold of my prick and moved it to and fro. She felt along the shaft and around my groin. “Hmmm…I don’t see any nick marks. Do you use a safety razor ?”

Was this a prelude to girl-talk ? If so it would be my limit, since I never went further than removing my pubic hair. “Oh no, a depilatory cream is much easier to use…”

“Razors are standard in hospitals of course, and we are always required to use them, but I do agree.” She used the back of her hand to feel my skin. “Much softer….”

I wouldn’t have minded at all if she continued her explorations and exclamations of agreement. But she still had a job to do. “Well let’s get back to business, shall we ?”

By all means. With the enema bag filled and waiting, she only had to affix a nozzle to get the show on the road. There were three to choose from. She held the largest up for me to look at. It was bulbous at the end and fairly thick all around. If I had been asked for an opinion I would have said it was an item from a sex shop rather than a hospital. But what did I know of such things ?

“What about another nozzle ?” I asked.

“Yes, what about them ? They’re all smaller of course. Hardly suitable for a gentleman of your experience. Don’t you think ?”

It seemed as if she was inferring more than she ought to. How did she know how much experience I had ? And in what matters ? But no mind though. I said nothing and just shrugged, indicating my compliance.

After attaching the nozzle to the rubber tubing, nurse Christine told me to lie down on my left side, my back towards her. I did as she asked, sighing deeply as she indicated I pull up my right leg to my chest and roll over forwards a bit. I was in classic Simm’s position, my rear end and anus easily accessible from behind. Had I been a female, my genitals – labia and vaginal opening could also have been conveniently handled and examined without my changing position.

As it was I was just here for an enema. I think I was more exposed than would usually be indicated for a chaste medical cleaning, my legs pulled up higher than normal. But I hardly minded. While laying with my head in the crook of my arm, I contemplated my situation. All in all things were proceeding along quite well indeed. Behind me I heard the nurse pull on a rubber glove, the snap of rubber on flesh clearly audible.

When she opened my buttocks, pulling them apart, I could feel she only wore the right glove, her left hand was uncovered. She had put a glob of lubricant on her right fingers, one of which she purposely and vigorously worked into my anus. She didn’t fool around much, but inserted her digit almost immediately up my backdoor. Once in, she wiggled it about a bit and withdrew.

It didn’t hurt but she was rather brusque and I flinched tensing muscles, anal sphincter included. “I thought you said you were used to this ? Surely a little finger can’t cause you any discomfort ?”

“No, but I usually proceed at a more leisurely pace….”

She chuckled. “Well, I’m afraid we don’t have time for that now. And besides, this isn’t really the setting, now is it ?”

What did she know ? But at least when inserting the large bulbous nozzle she was more gentle and in less of a hurry. She pressed the tip into my anal opening a few times, before finally giving it the ‘Big Push’ and sticking it into me completely.

It was a tight fit without any prior stretching. I accommodated the nozzle just barely. Any larger and I would have had to cry ‘uncle’. Nurse Christine fiddled around with the nozzle, moving it to and fro and feeling along the rim of my anal sphincter where it closed over the rubber. What her purpose could have been other than just fooling around I couldn’t say. But it was nice, there was no doubt about that.

“There…all comfy now ?” she jauntily asked me as she opened the valve and warm water began flowing into my bottom.

I said nothing and concentrated on the warmth that began to spread along my bowels. Usually I inject water into myself via squeeze rubber clysters. They are of course small volume devices, but a lot of the pleasure lies in the repeated insertion and retraction of the nozzle.

This enema however was one long continuous flow of warm soapy water. I was filled up more rapidly this way and consequently the solution started to work faster as well. I also had a sneaking suspicion that Nurse Christine had made a doubly strong solution of soap and water.

I took it all in one go though and without a complaint. Seeing the enema bag empty, she closed the valve and gently retracted the nozzle from my asshole. “My my, that went in very easily indeed. Can you hold it up just as easily or should I find you a plug ?”

I wanted to make a joke about the Dutch boy with his finger in the dike, but thought it best not to go too far. “No, it’s all right. I can manage, but not in this position though.”

“Oh ? Well, it’s all right, you can turn over onto your back now. I have to massage your abdomen anyway.”

That was not what I meant and I’m sure she knew it. Lying down I was far less able to control any upcoming cramps. Sitting was the best position. But I let it pass for the moment as nurse Christine guided me by the shoulders. I was flat on my back, legs stretched out in front of me.

Laying so, she started to knead my lower abdomen with small movements of her fingers. Every now and then my jutting prick would rub against her wrists or arm. She paid it no particular heed that I could see, but on the other hand she took no pains to avoid it either.

By now, a series of cramps began to build up and I must have grimaced from the effort of holding up the enema solution. She saw this and let me bring up my knees to my chest. “You’ll have to wait another ten minutes or so before you can empty yourself, Mr. Gracier. Do you think you can manage ?”

I’d held up enemas far far longer than that, but that was in the privacy of my own home and bathroom where I could moan and groan to my heart’s content and amuse myself in other interesting ways in the meantime. I doubt if nurse Christine would have approved of my distracting myself with a bit of adolescent masturbation.

“I suppose so. But really, I’d rather sit up.”

“Yes, maybe you do. But not right now. Just try riding it out while I rub your belly. This is to help spread the water all along your colon. It does feel good when I do it, doesn’t it ?”

What an unnecessary question. I nodded and grimaced once again when riding out the spasms.

“Good, it’s best to get you as clean as possible for the rectal and prostate exam. I fear that the doctor can be somewhat fastidious at times. I’ve even known her to send a patient back for a second cleansing or even an intestinal vacuuming. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

No we certainly wouldn’t, I agreed. But I wondered if I had heard correctly : an intestinal vacuuming ? Good grief, what next ? And I thought I had heard or imagined it all. I wondered what she would do if I leaked anything ? I hoped I wasn’t. Discreetly I tried to feel between my buttocks when Nurse Christine’s back was turned for a moment. But she saw me and misinterpreted my intentions.

“Tsk tsk, Mr. Gracier. Now’s not the time for any fooling around. You’ll have to leave something for the doctor.” She sniggered.

I took it she meant something other than a residue of enema solution and waste matter.

During the last 5 minutes, Nurse Christine let me sit up. It was easier containing the cramps in this position and the worst of them had passed anyway. She then opened the door to a small convenience attached to the room and I gratefully made my way inside.

With the door closed I was able to expel everything in relative dignity. It took some ten minutes and several series of diminishing expulsions until I considered myself completely empty. I cleaned up as best I could and demurely returned to the exam room.

“Feeling better Mr. Gracier ?” she asked. “You look a bit pooped there, if you don’t mind me saying so. You’d better sit down for a minute or two. Catch your breath.”

I did as she suggested, though I wasn’t all that worn out from the enema. At home I’d had far more strenuous sessions. I couldn’t help thinking that nurse Christine might be a right jolly partner for such fun and games, though for the life of me, I knew I’d never build up enough resolve to just come right out and ask her.

“Right. Now if you’d just stand up a minute and bend over….”

I did as she requested, wondering what was next. I felt her part my buttocks and wipe my anal area with a particularly cool tissue. “It’s all right, nothing to worry about. I’m just cleaning you off with a cloth and methanol. Doctor B. really insists on cleanliness you know.”

Apparently so, though I wanted to say I had used soap and water in the small bathroom. I just hoped that a handful of baby powder on my behind wasn’t next.

Thankfully not, though Nurse Christine did insist on sticking her finger up my anus for a ‘quick check’. Luckily I passed the test. Nurse Christine’s busy little index finger came out as clean as it had gone in.

“I must say that you behaved in an exemplary fashion during the enema.”

“I did ?” From some of her remarks, I had been afraid I wasn’t going to pass muster.

“Oh yes. I’ve had patients, grown men as well as youngsters mind you, burst out in tears when getting prepped.” She shook her head in mock incomprehension.

“Certainly not from your ministrations…” A bit of flattery was never amiss I figured, though in truth I was hardly exaggerating. Nurse Christine was good, no doubt about it. But she said nothing in return, instead giving me a short smile.

I figured that by now enough time had passed for us to be getting back to doctor B., but it looked like there were still a few things to be taken care of.

“All right Mr. Gracier. If you’ll just accompany me, we’ll take the samples.”

“Samples ?” I asked.

“Yes, blood to begin with, and afterwards I’ll need a good sized urine sample. But don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing when I draw blood. They say I’m rather good at this.”

I was sure she was, but I never worry at all about having blood samples taken. That doesn’t bother me a bit. I can watch a needle being inserted into me without the slightest bit of apprehension. No, no, right now I wondered how I was ever going to provide a urine sample without peeing all over myself. Erect pricks are notoriously difficult to direct downwards for any kind of activity. Taking a leak isn’t that easy either, provided you can even get anything flowing in the first place.

I could imagine it now : me with a glass sample jar in one hand trying to bend my penis low enough. Maybe I should just stand on my head and try peeing that way ?

But I needn’t have worried. Maybe she had already experienced similar difficulties with other male patients unable to loose a stubborn erection. It looked like Nurse Christine was going to do things slightly differently.

She had me sit down in a chair next to the desk. Spread out was a wicked looking collection of phials, test tubes, syringes with injection needles and other things. It looked like it was blood sample time.

“Let’s see if this doesn’t distract you from your naughty thoughts,” she joked. Nurse Christine sat down next to me and tied off my upper arm, hoping to expose a handy vein. She felt around finding a suitable candidate.

In went the needle. She attached the tubing to several phials in a row, filling them up with dark red vampire-vintage blood. Now if she had hoped I loose my stubborn erection, I had to disappoint her. Sticking me with a needle didn’t conjure up any atavistic terrors. In fact the added body contact was all I needed to keep going. My prick was still nicely stiff.

Finished she put the blood taking paraphernalia away and looked at my prick with hands on her hips.

“Tsk tsk, Mr. Gracier. Can’t you loose that nasty erection ?”

I’ve never considered an erection ‘nasty’. Besides I’d have thought a nurse trained in such eventualities. Aside from either a whack in the balls or a good jerk-off I couldn’t really come up with any alternatives. I said nothing and just shrugged fatalistically.

“Oh well,” she confided cryptically, “there are ways….This isn’t the first time…”

Nor I bet the last.

She told me to climb back up on the exam table. When I was seated she came over to me with another armful of equipment. I noticed a length of thin rubber tubing among the items. I had more than an inkling what she planned to use it for.

Nurse Christine draped a small white cloth around the base of my prick, smiling as she did so. “There, we don’t want to make a mess, do we ?”

Heaven forbid. I smiled back. I was not going to give her the satisfaction of looking worried or acting surprised. After all, I had spent more than a lay-man’s fair share of time leafing through medical books, fantasizing about all those titillating looking treatments having to do with my naughty parts.

So I didn’t ask or look surprised when nurse Christine swabbed the tip of my penis with a generous dose of disinfectant. She retracted my foreskin to do so, a job she clearly needn’t have done, since my urethral opening was quite accessible as it was. Maybe she just wanted to be thorough, but I personally think she got a kick out of handling my apparatus. If so, I didn’t mind in the least.

“Now, I’m going to have to catheterize you Mr. Gracier. I’m afraid there doesn’t seem to be any other short term option. At least none that the Hospital Board approves of,” she snickered while continuing her preparations.

Really ? I thought. How else was the doctor going to go about obtaining those other ‘samples’ she had alluded to ? Maybe there was a different deontological code for nurses and physicians ? Were the latter allowed more liberties ? Imagine that on top of their already generous salary.

“Now just relax. This will be over with before you know it.”

Nurse Christine took my glans between two fingers and squeezed my urethral opening wider. She then quickly pressed the narrow tapering tip of a dropper in and squeezed out the liquid it contained. I could feel the fluid being forced deep into me. It was cool and slightly stinging. An excess amount flowed back out and dripped down my penis. Nurse Christine withdrew the dropper and wiped me off.

That done, she just as deftly grabbed one end of the rubber tubing and inserted it into the tip of my penis. Gently, but unconcernedly she pushed it down the insides of my prick. I could feel it sliding down deep inside me. The sensation wasn’t exactly painless, but as with other treatments involving tubes and nozzles inside the body, it was something you apparently had to get used to. This being my first acquaintance I was at a loss what to expect.

I felt the tube moving around inside of me, apparently pushing against the bladder sphincter. Fiddling to and fro, nurse Christine gave a delicate twist or something and the catheter passed into my bladder. I felt the tubing fill up with liquid.

The tube was still clamped off. Before removing the clasp nurse Christine placed the other end of the catheter into a sample jar. As she removed the clamp, my urine began to flow freely into the glass receptacle. It was a curious feeling having my urine stream out of me, without any conscious effort on my part. I could clearly discern the slackening of pressure on my bladder as it emptied.

The sensations I felt might be best described as interesting, if not borderline painful. But I knew that there were folks who liked to play such games for fun and pleasure, so I wasn’t about to show my discomfort to nurse Christine.

As if to test my resolve she twiddled around with the tubing a bit and squeezed my prick in various places en passant. She smiled at me. “Not too uncomfortable Mr. Gracier ?”

“Ahhh…I can manage…” Barely. I smiled back gamely.

“Good, after all, there’s not that much difference between this and a good enema, now is there ?”

I wasn’t so sure about that. The access openings varied quite markedly in sensitivity in my opinion.

I was wondering what else naughty nurse Christine had up her sleeve when there came a knock on the door. It opened directly afterwards. It was Doctor Dominique B. “Ahhh…there you are. Is the patient ready for……”

As the doctor took in our little tableau vivant, her eyes widened and her mouth opened, but not much came out. She stared at us both. Me laying there naked with splayed legs and a glaringly erect prick. Nurse Christine fooling around with catheter tubing and aforementioned penis.

“What…? What are you doing nurse ?” the doctor demanded.

Nurse Christine dropped my prick and straightened her uniform. She stood up trying to get between me and the doctor. It didn’t work since the doctor came closer and took a good look at me. I noticed that she had her eyes riveted on my genital region. It was probably the first time she had done so in all these years. I would have preferred to happen under different circumstances.

“Uhhh…I’m taking samples, doctor. Urine…” Nurse Christine smiled nervously. “I’ve already taken care of blood samples. And the patient’s already ahhh….cleaned out as well.”

“Ohhh…” This seemed to mollify Doctor Dominique B. somewhat. “But I don’t understand why you’ve catheterized Mr. Gracier. We’ve no need for a sterile urine sample…”

That turned out to be a handy excuse. “I must have misunderstood Doctor….I’m sorry. We’re almost finished anyway.”

“Well get on with it then.” Seemingly relieved that everything appeared to have an innocent explanation the doctor relaxed and gave me a good looking over. Then she bristled again.

“There was no need to shave the patient. I never mentioned anything about that nurse.”

I coughed politely. “Ahh, the nurse didn’t do anything ma’am. I usually….ahh shave myself…”

She blinked at me several times, clearly at loss of what to say. “Ahh, I see…” Though she clearly didn’t. “Any particular reason ?”

I tried to keep from grinning and blushing. I just barely succeeded. “Not really,” I fibbed. “It’s cleaner and more ….hygienic.” I coughed again. “I suppose.”

“Really ? That seems somewhat extreme to me. Do you suffer from skin rashes ?”

I assured her that I didn’t.

Meanwhile nurse Christine hurriedly retracted the tubing from my prick, sealed the urine sample jar and tried to make me look halfway presentable. She couldn’t do much about my jutting stiff prick. Not even the embarrassment of having Doctor Dominique B. present changed anything in that regard.

“Well, it’s quite unusual in any case.”

I wondered if that were really so. I doubted it very much and wondered how much of a prude the lovely doctor really was. Then again maybe she was just used to dealing with strait-laced people and it had become second nature to her. It was hard to tell.

Nurse Christine finished putting everything back to order and stood meekly to one side of the examination, awaiting further instructions. I lay still on the table, slowly straightening out my legs, trying to assume a somewhat more dignified position. The doctor looked at me.

“If you’re feeling up to it, I suppose we had better be getting on with the examination…”

Oh I was up it, all right. And up to many other things as well. I tried to suppress a grin.

When she realized she had unwittingly made a naughty little pun, the doctor looked away, embarrassed. She was blushing again. Nurse Christine couldn’t help herself and had to avert her eyes to keep from giggling. My, but weren’t these two a jolly bunch.

Composing herself, Doctor Dominique B. told me she might just as well do the exam in this room.

Yes, I thought. No need for me to go trooping down the corridors sporting a whopper.

That settled, she ordered nurse Christine to fetch this and that. The doctor fastidiously pulled on a pair of clean thin latex gloves and told me to relax and spread my legs open.

Her examination of my genitals was rather straightforward I suppose. She squeezed and prodded, felt and rubbed at strategically located points of my intimate anatomy. I noticed her hands trembling somewhat as she was busy palpitating my erect and engorged organ. I had always thought her to be overworked and fatigued, no doubt from the heavy burden she carried on her shoulders. But maybe this time it was due to something else. She caught me watching her as she was kneading one of my testicles. She looked away, straightened her head and asked me if I had felt anything untoward.

Well, I had actually, but I took it she meant if I had felt any pain or physical discomfort. I shook my head. “No doctor. That didn’t hurt at all.”

“Ah good…now if you could turn over on your side please….”

It looked like she wanted me in the old familiar Simm’s position. I assumed it was time for some backdoor probing on her part.

Daintily she pulled my buttocks apart and applied something cool to my anus, a lubricant gel no doubt. She rubbed it around and then rather quickly inserted her finger. She felt around, hooked the Latex protected digit and did what seemed to me a rather hasty rectal exam.

The doctor at least seemed to be satisfied with the results. “Well that seems to be all in good order…” she pronounced as she stripped off her glove.

I wondered how she could be sure. I’d had my finger up my behind for far longer periods just to insert a single suppository. I was also wondering if that was going to be it. If so, it seemed that the lovely doctor had been more than unnecessarily modest in the past. Was this how she checked out patient’s intimate parts ?

But apparently nurse Christine had thoughts similar to mine. She discretely coughed and held up a glass phial for the doctor.

“Yes nurse ?” the doctor asked.

“Oh, I thought you would need this Doctor…” nurse Christine said arching her eyebrows up ever so slightly.

The doctor gave a nervous little smile. “Yes, yes…I know….we’ll get to that in a moment.”

She didn’t seem to be all that anxious to go about collecting the last of the samples. I couldn’t really blame her of course. But I had been looking forward to this part of the exam. Nurse Christine too it seemed.

“Mr. Gracier….” the doctor said. “Could you place yourself on hands and knees please ?”

She had me turn around with my behind in the air. Nurse Christine held the glass phial under the tip of my penis while she held on to the shaft, to steady it.

“This won’t take long, it will over before you know it. Ready ? take a deep breath…” the doctor once again inserted her finger into my anus, this time pressing down and massaging my prostate. She kept up a firm rhythm.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself elsewhere. daydreams notwithstanding it looked like the reality of a doctor’s examination room elicited different feelings of arousal than I had anticipated. Yes, I was nicely and politely stiff (as the occasion warranted), I was on the verge of climaxing in the presence of and aided by two ladies in white, but at the same time I felt somewhat detached from my surroundings, and if truth be known somewhat ridiculous as well. But this is what I had wanted and this was what I was getting.

I tried to relax and pretend I was elsewhere. When I fool around with myself there are certain places that I like to touch, feel, rub, press down on. A long time lover gets to know which these are, but neither the doctor nor nurse Christine came anywhere remotely close to that category. Neither could I lend a hand myself, or so I figured. Nurse Christine would probably laugh it off and call me a naughty little boy. I had no idea what the doctor might think if I pitched in and started playing with myself. I think she was at the limit of what she considered proper behavior right now.

So I grit down and willed myself to come. Thankfully it didn’t take too long. Quietly and discretely my prick began to throb and spurt forth a decently virile amount of ejaculate. Nurse Christine caught most of it in the phial.

The doctor must have been monitoring my progress carefully, or else noticed the anal contractions that accompany orgasm. Whatever the case, she ceased her massage and quickly withdrew her finger.

“Well, there we are. You can dress now, Mr. Gracier. Nurse, label the samples and get them off to the lab. I’ll be in my office.” The doctor left and closed the door behind her.

I turned around and sat down. The nurse handed me a small towel to clean myself off with. “That’s the first time I’ve ever known her to do that. She didn’t appear to enjoy it too much. And how about you ?”

“It was something different I suppose. Though not what I expected.”

Nurse Christine smiled. “You men have such naughty imaginations. Don’t you know that a doctor’s office is not the place for fun and games ?”

I would have thought differently. I shrugged. Oh well, if nothing else, at least I’d had a thorough check-up.