She Commanded Me...

That hospital examination room was like any other -- stark, white, and bright. Tongue depressors and gauze sat in jars on a counter by the corner, and a gallon of hand sanitizer stood near the sink. I'd already changed into that immodest frock they gave me and had a choice: the table covered in deli paper or an orange plastic chair.

I chose that chair and waited. I bridled my time, stared at a clock on the wall... and watched it tick. I'd almost dozed off when the door flung open. She swept in wearing a brilliant smile, a short pale-blue gown, and a stethoscope draped around her neck.

"I'm Dr. Joanne, and you're here for the prostate exam, right?" she said while glancing at her clipboard.

That young pony-tailed woman who stood tall, perched on heels, was beautiful AND confused.

"You must have the wrong clipboard; I made an appointment last month. I'm here for a mole," and pointed to my thigh.

She glanced at her board again, then raised her head, "Yep, that's what it says, mole and prostate. I'm here to perform the prostate. Take off your underwear, and let's get started."

I was somewhat taken aback, not to mention unprepared for this event. "I assure you, I am NOT here for my prostate, only my mole," I politely protested, raising my voice... ever so slightly.

"The prostate exam is now standard procedure in this hospital for anyone over fifty. Are you over fifty?"

"Well, yes, but I'm not ... I mean I wasn't expecting a prostate exam," I stuttered. What the fuck was going on with this new standard procedure shit -- I hadn't heard about that fresh wrinkle.

Dr. Joanne hadn't paid attention to my reply; she'd already slipped on a pair of gray latex gloves and waited for me, hands on hips. "Come on, let's go. I have other patients to see. Climb on that table and let's get this done quickly."

This was not what I'd come in for; I considered my options. But let's face it, resistance is not a choice when a doctor commands their patient. I peeled off my boxer briefs, mounted that table, and shut my eyes in humiliated anticipation. I felt a slender, lubed digit enter me and begin what it does.

I've had prostate exams, and let me tell you -- they are quick -- less than twenty seconds. This one lingered to the point where, you guessed it, there was some moderate interest displayed by that thing that dangles between my legs.

"Do you have any problems getting an erection?"

"I beg your pardon?" I replied, craning my neck uncomfortably over my right shoulder.

"Erections... do have difficulty getting one; your prostate is enlarged and sometimes that causes erectile dysfunction."

"No, I don't have any issues with THAT," as you can probably SEE by now, I would have sarcastically added.

If you don't know anything about the male gland, you can milk it when you massage that tiny globe. And that's EXACTLY what was happening. A thin silver ribbon of precum had formed a glistening staircase from the tip of my penis to that covered table. I expected the good doctor to complete her task at any second. To my horror, she continued massaging and feeling around in there, all the while -- chatting it up with me. Was she not aware of what the fuck she was doing?

"Are you sexually active or is masturbation your primary source of ejaculation?"

Now THERE was a question I'd never been asked while a woman had a finger up my ass. And to be honest, I didn't know how to answer it. Or should I say, I could barely focus: I was distracted by a familiar tingling sweeping my body. If this doctor kept up with her explorations any longer, I'd have an explosion on that table. My breathing became shallow; her finger did its job. Just as I was about to release an utterly inappropriate stream of male fluids, she stopped... and withdrew her digit. My rigid cock throbbed and twitched in protest.

"Everything is fine. I'll send in the skin specialist to see you, alrighty?"

And with that, she snapped off her gloves, grabbed her clipboard and scurried out the door.

I caught my breath and considered finishing her task. But come on, who does THAT in a hospital examination room? It's a good thing I didn't; seconds later, my dermatologist walked in. There was a considerable commotion outside the room as he shut the door. "What's that noise all about?" I asked.

"Oh, some pranksters from a university sorority had an April Fools' hazing. A bunch of them snuck in today, posing as physicians. We called security, but they all left. Supposedly they were posting their live exploits on a website." he laughed. "All of our patients reported them immediately. Who's gullible enough to be fooled by a twenty-something dressed up like a sexy doctor? So... Let's take a look at your thigh shall we?"

I sat there... raised my robe to reveal the mole, and THOUGHT... about asking that question.

"Does this hospital have a policy of complimentary prostate exams for patients over fifty?"