An Embarrassing Employment Physical

This is a story I never imagined that I would write. Over forty years after the event it is still embarrassing but clear in my memory. What makes it so dramatically out of character is that in those days I was a borderline homophobe like most of my jock friends.

It happened when I got my first full time summer job.

It was at Long Term Care facility working in the kitchen. I remember being elated at having passed the interview process. I was quite shy and usually terrified of doctors but even being told to report to a doctor's office on the far side of the hospital for a pre-employment physical didn't dampen my spirits that day.

I had quite a bit of trouble finding Doctor Kendrick's office. The corridors on that side of the hospital were completely disserted, to this day I don't know why.

I finally found the door with his name on it and went in. All I saw was a desk and a couple of chairs—no people. There were two other doors leading off that room so I knocked on one of them and a deep male voice answered.

"Come," he said.

I opened the door and saw an older, balding, somewhat paunchy man in a white coat sitting at a desk. There was also a standard examination table in the room but little else.

"Can I help you?" he asked removing what I assumed were reading glasses.

"The Personnel Office sent me over here for a pre-employment physical," I informed the man I'd come to assume was Doctor Kendrick.

"Very well," he said. "Remove your shirt and have a seat right here."

He indicated the chair beside the desk, opened a desk drawer and began rummaging through it. Then he opened a second drawer and produced a stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff which he laid on the desk.

I should mention that by this point I would normally have been a nervous wreck. I've never known why, but medical examinations make me extraordinarily nervous and anxious, but for some reason I wasn't this time.

I had removed my shirt and taken a seat. He proceeded to listen to my chest moving the metal disc all around. Then he asked me to lean forward, he shifted his wheeled chair a little to the side and listened to my back.

He asked me if I smoked, which I did at the time. I told him so and he asked how many.

"About eight or ten a day," I replied truthfully.

"Oh well that's not too bad," he responded, which surprised me a little.

It was only 1966 but smoking was pretty universally condemned by the medical establishment. I was relieved not to get a lecture on its evils and it made me feel even more relaxed in a situation that should have had me mortified.

While he was putting the BP cuff on he asked if I was involved in sports. I told him I was. I played pretty much any and every sport with my friends and since I had just completed my first year of high school I played football and ran track in the intramural league.

I want to insert at this point that I was so shy that I used the washroom to change, being too embarrassed to get naked even in front of my male class and teammates.

He asked if I had a girlfriend and I replied that I didn't. As a matter of fact I hadn't really been on anything that could be called a 'date' up to that point. When he was finished taking my blood pressure he said,

"Okay stand up."

Obviously I complied, but then he said,

"Drop your shorts."

Needless to say the command took my breath away. It was mid June and I was wearing a pair of white cut-off denim shorts and running shoes. My T shirt was already off, so lowering my cut-offs would leave me in just my briefs. Even though panic had begun to set in I did as I was told.

I was still holding on to the waistband of the shorts, which was the only thing that prevented them from falling around my ankles, when the seated man sort of plucked the elastic around the top of my briefs and said,

"These too."

I remember feeling my rectum clench and my balls sort of jerk. This was my worst nightmare and it had all started so innocently without warning. I had no time to get stressed out about a medical examination because I didn't know there was going to be one. I had always feared being made to get naked in front of a doctor but amazingly it had never (in my memory) happened up until that point.

What could I do?

I guess I could have pulled up my shorts, grabbed my T and run out the door. That would understandably have negated the employment offer, not to mention making me look like a real baby, so it was unconscionable. I did the only reasonable thing. I released the cut-offs and let them fall, and then lowered my underwear to my knees.

I was now standing all but naked in front of this strange man and I realized that with him still seated my genitals were right about eye level.

As any guy who wears jockeys will know the crotch of the underwear causes your penis to sort of nestle into your scrotum. So that's the display I was putting on; my uncut dick not quite hanging free.

When the seated man reached out and cradled my balls in his left hand I was surprised that his hand actually felt quite warm. Then he pulled my penis free of the nest with his right.

"Hmmm, uncircumcised," he observed. "I'll need to retract your foreskin to have a look at the meatus and corona."

Holding my dick with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand he pulled the loose skin back, while his left hand was still sort of supporting my balls.

I was praying for the ordeal to be over with but couldn't help realizing that this was the first time since I'd reached puberty that anyone had seen my genitals much less touched them. I tensed up as I felt the head of my penis become exposed and there was a sensation in my anus again.

In the flaccid state it's not that easy to get the foreskin all the way back, especially with one hand. The balding man gripped the end of my cock with his left hand, having taken it away from my nuts. By squeezing the head between his thumb and forefinger he was able to completely expose the corona.

I was absolutely shocked at my physical reaction.

Under the light pincer pressure I felt the head beginning to grow. The more it swelled the tighter the seated man's grip seemed. He was looking very carefully at the inside of my foreskin and at the point where the head joined the shaft. If he was aware of the swelling he gave no indication.

"You must be sure to pull this all the way back when you bathe," he instructed at the same time he moved his left hand back under my sack.

That's when it became undeniable—to my horror—that I was starting to get hard.

"Do you ever have any trouble getting it all the way back?" he asked and he tested for himself by moving the skin over the head and back several times.

He was still holding me with two fingers but other than that the motion was mimicking only one thing, and my cock recognized it even before my mind did.

"How often do you masturbate?" he asked while pulling the skin back as far back as it would go.

The question was not only embarrassing; it was shocking. I couldn't be sure but it seemed like he was holding my nuts a bit tighter than before, and I noticed for the first time that his face was so close to my rising dick that I could feel his breath on it.

I couldn't seem to think.

'Should I tell him the truth... should I lie... should I say I didn't do it at all?'

He looked up at me as my silence continued. I can only guess what kind of horror struck, embarrassed to death expression must have been embossed on my teenaged face.

"Come on! You said you don't have a girlfriend... and even if you did everybody does it you know."

As he spoke there was a change in the way he was holding me. A second finger had joined in his grip on my shaft so he was now moving a half an inch or so up and down, pulling the skin back and forth just slightly with his thumb and two fingers.

Again I couldn't be sure if he had increased pressure or if it was because I was swelling—there was no doubt about the swelling. I was about half way erect and praying for it to go down.

"Uh... sometimes," I managed to choke out.

"That's not really what I asked," he replied.

"I'm going to check the entrance to your urethra for inflammation."

I didn't know it was intended as a warning.

He put all his fingers from both hands behind my semi stiff cock and used his thumbs to pry open the slit in the head. He peered into the depths of my pee hole and then repositioned his hands. He now had a full fist grip with his right hand and pushed his thumb up the underside forcing the slit open again, and he didn't stop there. His thumb continued to move up until he was pressing very firmly into the narrow little crease.

I felt my asshole clench again and realized to my extreme embarrassment that now I was fully erect. A sound escaped my throat and the seated man looked up at my face again.

"Don't worry about getting hard," he correctly deduced part of the cause of my groan.

"A healthy young man like you... it would have been more of a concern if you hadn't become erect."

It might have been my imagination but the hand holding my penis seemed tighter and I was almost sure it was still moving, just slightly, up and down. The hand that was holding my balls had begun to move around and squeeze a little.

"Just relax; I'm going to examine your testicles. It shouldn't hurt at all so let me know if you experience any pain."

There certainly wasn't any physical pain but psychologically it was torture.

It wasn't a person sitting in front of me fondling my balls and stroking my hard cock, it was a doctor—I was so ashamed. If I'd been able to let myself see the white coated person as a man I'm not sure what my homophobic brain would have done.

I don't know how long it took. I was trying to concentrate on making my penis go down and ignore the fact that what he was doing felt really good. There was a pressure building up in the floor of my pelvis that I had never experienced before. Without really wanting to I began to focus on that novel sensation, trying to figure out exactly where it was. It proved to be surprisingly difficult to localize. It was way deep inside and down very low. It felt sort of like a hot muscle cramp.

As if the doctor knew what I was feeling his finger began to press pretty hard right behind my sack as he continued to examine my nuts. He was practically pressing right on the crampy knot which seemed to make the hot pressurized feeling spread.

I was so distracted by the way he was rolling and squeezing my balls and the way his finger felt pressing hard between the back of my sack and my asshole that for a moment I forgot about my raging woody. His finger pressing into me was like a bellows fanning the flames until the heat enveloped my whole pelvis.

At that point I realized that two fingers and the thumb of his left hand encircled my swollen member and were working up and down in very short strokes. His grip was tight enough around the shaft that it wouldn't accommodate the size of my head; so his hand moved up until it met resistance from the bulge of my corona and then retreated back about an inch toward my now very tight feeling balls that he was still playing with—uh, examining.

He altered his grip and his thumb was pressing on my slit again but it felt different this time; I realized why. His probing was being lubricated by stuff dribbling out of my dick. The shame and embarrassment welled up even stronger but what he was doing felt so amazingly good that I now had the most frightening thought of my life.

'If he doesn't stop soon I'm gonna cum right in his face!'

My breathing had been accelerating until I was almost panting.

He had been looking at his hands on my genitals but at this point he looked up at me and said,

"Are you okay?"

I could swear his grip on my dick tightened and he pressed into my pee hole harder as he asked. I knew that my face was flushed and my expression was strained. I could feel the heat and the sweat beginning to form around my hairline. Strangely I was glad he looked at me because it allowed me to respond with a nod instead of trying to speak.

"Okay... good well it looks like we're almost done here... just one more thing."

His hand left my bag as he spoke but he gripped my cock with a full fist and made two or three long quick strokes. My nuts were in a vice and on fire. If he'd made another couple of strokes I'd have blown my load.

Instead he got up from the wheeled office chair for the first time since I'd arrived. He wasn't quite as portly as I'd thought but I was surprised at how short he was. He didn't come up much past my shoulder.

"Turn and face the chair, and then I want you to bend over at the waist and grip the back."

His orders were clear enough to me. I shuffled my feet around a hundred and eighty degrees so I was facing the black vinyl patient chair that I sat in when I'd first arrived. The action caused my underwear that had been hanging on my knees to drop on top of the white denim cut-offs around my ankles.

As I leaned forward I heard a drawer opening and then a snapping sound that I would later realize was the sound of him donning examination gloves. My relief at having my dribbling boner out of sight was short lived.

He was beside me and pulled my left hip firmly up against him. I was wondering what the cylindrical feeling instrument he had in the pocket of his coat might be when a whole new wave of shame overtook me. The white coated man's latex gloves felt strange on my skin as he pried my butt cheeks apart. His fingers were pulling and sort of walking down inside my crack. When he started to poke around my asshole I was amazed at the sensations. Nothing ever touched there other than toilet paper and a wash cloth. Both of those applied pressure in a general sort of way. The man who was pressing his pelvis firmly against my hip was quite precise about outlining the puckered ring and probing the center firmly.

"I guess you've never had DRE before," he speculated.

I managed a negative sounding grunt despite the fact that I didn't know what he was talking about.

Both of his hands left me for a moment. Then he reached across my back with his left hand and pressed my hip up against his pelvis again. I wondered if the thing in his pocket was the handle of one of those scopes they use to look in your ears. The possible application of such an instrument in my current posture was too scary to contemplate so I pushed the thought out of my mind at about the same time he said,

"This will feel a little cold at first."

A second later something cold and gooey feeling was being applied to my anus—I jumped.

"Just relax son... this will go much easier if you relax and don't fight me."

He was pulling my left outer hip harder against his front I assumed to steady me and keep me from moving too much. I felt his finger intrude pushing slowly inside and the sensation of being stretched back there came first. What followed was a surprisingly warm glow. The warmth joined up with the hot bubble that had developed when he was examining my balls. In my new vulnerable position my woody had slipped from my mind but it certainly hadn't gone down any.

A moment later his finger was pressing on something. It felt as though he was fondling my nuts again but this time his hands were right inside my sack. As he continued to massage whatever he was touching the heat and pressure were becoming unbearable. If he didn't finish his examination soon I knew what was going to happen. With every fiber of my will I tried to keep it in.

'Just a little longer... come on you can do it,' I encouraged myself.

My balls felt like they were in a hot vice and my dick was so hard I thought it was going to explode; that the skin simply wouldn't stretch far enough and or outer cover would be shed like a snake. Then my legs started to shake.

It was surprising that I realized that I was no longer being held firmly against him. His left hand wasn't reaching across my back anymore. I felt it snake under me and grab my rod very firmly. His hand had the same slippery goo on it that he'd applied to my ass and he began stroking up and down rapidly. The fireball started at my knees and rose like a rocket exploding right where his finger was still probing inside me. My knees buckled and an unimaginable sound was forced out of me from my deepest depths.

The first load of spunk shot past my face and splattered on the black vinyl back of the chair. I could see the creamy blob, like a semi-beaten egg white, beginning to trickle down but it was surreal. The next launch followed a second later landing in the middle of the chair seat. The third barely made it to the edge, and the forth basically just trickled out.

Still bent over I held onto the back of the chair for support. My mind was a total blank. The only thing going on in my head at that moment was my body acknowledging the most powerful release of my life. I thought that I had cum before through masturbation but none of those ejaculations began to compare with what I'd just experienced.

I was shivering and hoping that I wouldn't completely collapse when I heard that latex snapping sound again. It was the gloves being disposed of. I hadn't moved and involuntary little sounds were still escaping my throat when the man in the white coat opened the office door.

"There are tissues on the desk so you can clean yourself up," he informed as he stepped out. "Don't bother about the chair; the cleaning staff will look after that."

And then he was gone.

It took me another minute or so for me to come to my senses. When I did I was so horrified that I dressed as quickly as I could and raced out of there, thankfully not running into anybody in the corridors or stairs leading to the parking lot.

***

I confess that my ass felt funny for a couple of days making it hard to put the whole horrifying episode out of my mind. By the time I reported to the Personnel Office the next Monday to start work I had made peace with my conscience.

It was a medical exam, I had no choice. The doctor said that it wasn't unusual for young men to become erect—I hadn't done anything wrong. Still the fact that it was another male who'd caused me to blow my load was hard to accept.

'It wasn't a man it was a doctor,' seemed to work as a consolation.

The best, most effective, strategy was to put it completely out of my mind. That would have been much easier to do if it hadn't been for the mind boggling pleasure I experienced. Still I was trying to forget about it as much as that was possible.

The nice personnel lady looked in my file and said,

"I don't see the form from the physical exam... did you go and see Doctor Kendrick?"

I assured her that I had and got that strange feeling in my ass again as she shuffled and reshuffled the four or five pages.

"Well it won't be the first time paperwork got lost traveling across the building," she said sounding bemused. "I'll put out a search for it... hopefully it will turn up."

Then she took me down to meet my supervisor.

***

About a week later I met a girl in the park during a pick-up game of baseball. Her mother worked for the township and, one thing lead to another—she got me a job with the parks department. My next shift I went in and quit the hospital job; gave them a week's notice.

It was so nice to be working outside in the fresh air instead of the steamy objectionable aromas of the hospital kitchen.

On the Thursday of my first week on the parks department job I went to the accounting office at the hospital to collect my final check and paperwork. I was standing by the wicket waiting, when a tall very slender man with thick wavy grey white hair came in. I guessed he was a doctor because of the long white coat. I was, after all in a hospital.