Today I sat in the reception area of my doctors office. I tapped my foot to the beat of Neil Sedaka's 'Laughter In The Rain' while I thumb through the pages of GQ. His assistant and 2nd wife of El Salvadorian origin escorts me to the examination room. She's roughly 60 years old and the Docotr is about 80. Early this year I had a staph infection that was so severe I was nearly hospitalized. Thankfully, I have piss poor insurance and in-house care was not covered. I recieved a series of shots from this woman over a course of 3 weeks. When she gave me my last shot in the ass, I intentionally exposed my cock to her. She stared for a moment and then quicly turned away with a sneer of a smile. She laughed at my size - I know it. Even the ancient Doctor outswings little old me.
I'm here today for a general medical check-up. I haven't had one of these since the age of 9 and I'll be 30 in three months. I'm handed a puke colored robe.
She leaves me on my best behavior and I know it'll be at least 10 minutes before he's reminded for the fifth time that he has a patient waiting. With this I take the opportunity to loot the room for condoms and pils. I find neither, but I do liberate 3 hot tea bags.
Roughly 20 minutes later the Doctor arrives. He shakes my hand asks if we can go to work. With that, we begin several outdated tests that will in no way prolong my life or detect any serious medical matter; unless my heart has stopped beating since the last time I saw a doctor.
Once we completed the above the waist tests he moved to my knees. The funny hammer worked. He fondles my balls for a lenth of time that borders on both fear and anger.
After worshiping my nuts he asks me to lay on the exam table sideways with my ass pointed towards the back wall. Increasingly fearful, I comply only out of respect. He opens a drawer and pulls out two rubber gloves. I freak and ask him what the fuck is up. He lays a baby powder covered glove on my shoulder and says "it's your age, we need to check your prostate". Fuck me man. Really? I thought you had to be late 30's, early 40's before they start leveling your inner asshole. We proceed.
I wonder to myself about how clean my ass is. This appointment was after work and I'm the first to admit that I have issues with shit stains. I make it a point to wear dark colored boxers always. Chicks dig boxers and they are great at concealing turd induced paw prints. I've never had a man touch my bare ass. He proceeds to do so and I don't like it. Using two fingers he squirms for my a-hole and I squirm like half-dead road kill. He insists that I relax, though that's completely fucking impossible given that I have a man going deep in me. Suddenly he gets who knows how many fingers in me and I have a pain I'll never forget. He squeezes my prostate like a half-full raquet ball. I yelp and proceed to shit all over the place. I as embarassed yet at the same time proud that my body has such excellent natural defenses. He pulls his now brown colored glove out of my ass the way a man might pull his hand out of a trannies panties when he learns the truth and that is with hate and disgust.
I'm so informed that my prostate is in excellent working order, but I made a mess. I'm cleaned with baby wipes and his gloves are droped in the bio-hazard container. I still wonder if that ball was my prostate or my colon? I have no clue and hate thinking about these things.
I write a bad check and leave the office.

Did you shoot your wad when he fisted you?

I wrote the story out of boredom, but the events are indeed true. I did not ejaculate when he fisted me because that never happened. Remember, this is a Doctors office, not a jail cell.

Yeah, reminds me of my first visit at the proctologist's office. I sign in with the receptionist. Soon, I'm led into an empty exam room and told to wait for Dr. Probeski. While waiting, I notice a bit of 'gear' laying on the little table by the bed: a pair of latex gloves, a small jar of vaseline, and a beer(!?). So the doc comes in, and before we start I ask him - "Dr. Probeski, this is my first visit here and I just wanted to ask you kind of a layman's question before we get started. I totally understand the need for those gloves and the lubricant, but what's up with the can of beer?" - This kind of ruffles him; he spins around to look at the table with the gear for the first time, gives out an exasperated sigh, summons his apparently new assistant into the room, and admonishes angrily... "I said a BUTT light!!!"

Did he use a speculum on you as well because for some reason my doctor did .

Nah, man - that was just a dumb joke on my part - never actually been to the proc doc's. Thankfully, I've made it through life so far without ever needing any more recto-medical attention than a quick finger probe at physical time. Even the word "speculum" sounds unpleasant to me!