by KT Morrison
She walked him down the hall. It was bustling, young nurses passing by, men coming out of their exam rooms, heads down wanting to get home it seemed like.
“Here, just through here,” she said. She held back a curtain and he stepped through.
“Get changed and bring your street clothes with you to exam room…” she double checked her clipboard, “exam room twelve, okay?”
“Okay,” he said.
She swished his curtain closed and she hustled back to reception.
Ben got undressed, completely naked, watching the socked feet of the man in the next row over behind the short pale green curtain. He put the gown on, tied it behind his back, then snapped the elastic cuff of the slipper sock they’d given him around his ankle.
He folded up his clothes, put his shoes on top of the pile upside down so he wouldn't get street dirt on his new Dockers, then passed through the curtain headed for exam room twelve.
He saw Mike down the hall, heading the same direction as him, already in his hospital gown. He felt a funny wave come across him—what if they wanted to put him in the same room as his co-worker? He did not want to know what Mike’s dick looked like. He also didn't want Mike to know what his own dick looked like. They wouldn't do that though would they? He and Mike could just swap with another room—mix it up so they weren't putting people together who didn't want to.
He was at room ten and realized Mike was gone past twelve, probably turning into room fifteen—they were going to be okay.
He knocked on the door to room twelve heard a girl’s voice in there tell him to come in.
He opened the door and saw a pretty nurse sitting on a stool writing something down on her clipboard.
“Hey come on in and have a seat, you can just put your things up on the exam table behind you there.”
The room was small, maybe ten feet by ten feet. The exam table was a white metal one with a black vinyl top. There was another table to the left with drawers in it, tall and square. Two stools in the middle, the nurse sitting in one. It was a bit small for a double exam. Maybe they were going to let him pass without doubling up. Maybe room twelve was a small room and the bigger rooms doubled up.
He walked past her stepped up on the low footstool below the exam table, tossed his things to the back against the cream-painted wall and then sat down on the squeaky vinyl. He watched the nurse as she kept writing. She wore a pair of robin’s egg blue hospital pants and some reebok sneakers. Her top was some nurse’s pullover with bright geometric patterns on it, she had a name-tag that said Rebecca R.N. on it. She was quite pretty, with her brown and reddish hair pulled right back into a ponytail. It was shiny and her skin looked healthy too.
She finished up, adding a big dramatic period to what she was writing then looked up at him with a big pleasant smile.
“So you’re Ben, is that right?”
“Yes,” he answered her.
“Hi, Ben,” she said and she stood up and stepped to him and held out her hand. “I’m Rebecca.”
He took her soft hand and shook it. “Hi, Rebecca,” he said.
He started to get a little bit of a weak feeling. What were they going to do here? Was she going to see him naked? He kind of thought the people here might be a little older. Still, she was an R.N.
“So, Ben, we’re just waiting on the Doctor, she’ll be with us very shortly, then we can get started.”
“Okay. Started with what? What do we do?”
“Uh, well today is just an assessment phase. We takes some baseline measurements, ask some questions about your habits, experiences, maybe some areas in particular you might have concern with. Then the doctor will have a follow-up in a few weeks and you can go over a plan of action. Therapy, nutrition, exercises. Whatever it is, it’s this assessment today that will hep the doctor help you make the most of your sexual life.” She played with her ponytail while she talked, and she had pretty white teeth that he could see past her berry coloured lips while she talked. There was something very sexy about her.
“Oh. Measurements?”
“Yeah, just some simple things. We take your blood pressure and heart rate, static and during arousal.”
“Oh, okay. Arousal?”
“Yes, aroused as well as unaroused. We’ll measure your genitals and—”
“Sorry, measure my genitals?”
“Yes, we measure your penis and your testicles. Over time we like to see some natural growth. Sometimes an unhealthy lifestyle with stress, poor nutrition—it can lead to a shrinking. And we like to take these measurements now so we can track improvement in other treatment protocols.”
“Oh.”
“Ben, you can refuse anything we do. If you’re not comfortable…”
“No, no that’s okay.” He did feel a bit uncomfortable but he didn’t want to look like a nervous prude. A guy should jump at a chance to have a pretty nurse touching his private area.
“You said aroused. You measure it when it’s hard too?”
“Yes. We’ll measure you erect and we will also want to see your heart rate and blood pressure right through to ejaculation.”
“Ejaculation?”
“Did you read the forms you signed?”
“Not really.”
“It’s okay, Ben. We can do some of this or none of it. It’s up to you.”
“No, I’m good.”
“While we’re waiting, could I get you to sign one more thing here, it’s just another waiver that you understand what we’re doing here. That this isn’t a sexual release, it’s a clinical procedure, that this is a research clinic. Are you okay with that?”
Would Sloane think this was cheating? This was medical. Official. It was for Sloane’s benefit right? There was no harm. Probably. Rebecca was very pretty though. Ben wouldn’t like it if Sloane went to a Clinic and some handsome male nurse got her off with his middle finger grinding into her. He would not like that at all. Still…
“Uh, yeah, I guess I’m all right with that. Where do I sign?”
6
Ben sat and made some awkward small talk with Rebecca while they waited for the doctor. Mostly he was distracted with a nagging thought. Arousal. They were going to make him aroused. But how did they do that? There was no TV, how would they watch porn? And ejaculation. Did they have a machine or something that you stuck your dick into and it milked you? If so, he didn’t see it in here. There was a service table on wheels that had some latex gloves on it, he saw rulers and tape measures, other tools, a big jug with a pump top on it. Maybe inside the table there was something. Behind the door in it, inside the cabinet, some Fleshlight or something.
The door opened and an attractive woman in her forties bustled in. She was also stern and professional, looking good and healthy and fit. She wore glasses and her hair was back in a bun. She had a dark suit on and a white shirt, her white lab-coat over top of it all.
“Hi,hi,hi,” she said, hurried. “So sorry, we didn’t know we would be so popular today.”
Ben said, “Yeah, looks like business is good.”
“Yeah, well we provide a very valuable service and I guess word has spread from Oakwood.” She hopped up on to the table at the side of the room, sitting now like Ben was, at eye level. She looked down at her clipboard, then over her glasses at Ben.
“So has Rebecca gone over everything with you?”
“I think so.”
“Good, good. We’ll just wait a minute. I ran into April, she’s bringing in another patient, he was just getting ready.”
Shit. Just when he thought he was going to get some privacy. Where was this guy going to sit? Right next to him on this exam table?
And here he was. Walking in, bare legs under his hospital gown, feet in snap-on slippers—Hunter Conrad. The motherfucker who until a year ago had been putting it to the most amazing girl Ben had ever met.
He shuffled in, squeezed between the service table and Rebecca and stepped up to the exam table.
“Hey,” he said to B
en, looking a little sheepish. This was a crazy situation.
“Hey,” Ben said, keeping it low and cool.
He assessed him. Not as big as Ben, maybe five-ten, one-sixty, he looked fit. Something told him he played Lacrosse at school. His arms actually looked pretty buff, maybe even bigger than his own even though he had twenty pounds on him.
A nurse followed in behind him. Another pretty one. Petite but full figured, she had a gorgeous face and pouty lips. Like Rebecca she wore no makeup and she had her dyed black hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore the same nurse outfit, but she had tattoos visible down her right forearm.
“So, Mr Conrad, you’ve read the paperwork, read what we’re doing here today?”
“Yup,” he said.
“And Mr Watson?”
“Rebecca filled me in,” he said.
“Well, I suppose we should get started—there’s about a hundred and fifty men backed up out there. Mr Watson, if you wouldn’t mind. You can just lift up the robe or you can take it off.”
The two nurses faces were turned up to him, looking blankly. He had no idea coming here that he could be facing so much humiliation. He was torn. He could just leave. Say he had other things to do, it was getting late, that he’d come back another day. But he wanted to be here. He wanted to see what they would say about his performance. He wanted help. He wanted to be a better lover. The worst thing he’d come to realize sitting here next to Hunter was a weird little part of him wanted to see what was between his legs. He wanted to know what his sweet Sloane had been with. He wanted him to take off the robe and be just like Ben. If he wanted to see that he had to stay.
“Mr Watson?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. Well, this was it.
He stood up. He figured he’d just take the robe off. His body was half decent. He had that going for him at least. Maybe the Little Guy wasn’t that impressive, but at least he looked quite good with his clothes off. His hands worked behind him untying the knot of the gown. Everyone was looking and waiting.
What were they going to see? Who knew? Sometimes it could be warm enough to hang and sag a bit, his balls and cock not looking too bad. But could be shrivelled right up, like a little thimble sitting on a walnut. Or anywhere between. Temperature, stress, sleep… there was a lot of things that went into what these four people were about to see.
The robe was untied and he gathered it up, let it fall forward, slide down his arms holding it bunched up at his waist. Then there was no more putting it off. He pulled it away and let them all see it.
It wasn’t good. It was walnut time down there. No one gasped or giggled but there was a palpable embarrassment in the room. Like they were holding back their reactions, not wanting to offend their patient. They were professionals. Hunter looked sideways at it, then away. The nurses both stared at it, he searched their reactions, they gave nothing away. Doctor Kilpatrick looked, glanced at her clipboard then scratched something on it with her ballpoint.
“Okay, Mr Watson, if you could just have a seat there.”
“Hunter, you’re comfortable with this as well?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, sure,” he said.
He pulled his muscular arms out of the sleeves, stood up and put them behind his back, working on the knot at the back of his gown. Ben watched the muscles in his lean arms work, looked at his smooth tanned skin. He tried not to think of him with Sloane. Tried not to think of her hands touching his good-looking arms. Fuck—this guy had been with the woman he loved. His guts were clenching. Please don’t be hung. Please don’t be hung. Please don’t be hung.
He got the knot undone, let the gown fall forward. Ben peeped to the left, saw a dark shape moving behind the pale blue cotton. Then Hunter bunched up the robe and turned, placed it behind them on the exam table.
Ben’s heart sank. Bigger than big. It was swinging between his legs with his movement. Huge, low-hanging balls, in a dangling red-brown sack. His cock was a pale club, uncircumcised, much longer and thicker than Ben’s very best erection. His nurse April raised her eyebrows, darted a look to Rebecca. She smirked, bit her lips in to hide it.
He turned back, sat himself down on the table again. Both nurses tracked his heavy member with their eyes, watching it sway. He sat with his legs apart, his genitals hanging down so that Ben couldn’t see them, just the dark tuft of his thick pubic hair. He looked down at his own, sticking straight out, scrotum not even resting on the table. The doctor also was a little taken aback by Hunter, she said, All right then, wrote something down. Cleared her throat.
Ben wanted to die. This guy had been with Sloane. She had seen that thing. Been with it. Who knew what horrible things she did with it. Or what horrible things had been done to her with it. Ben had let her see his penis in the daylight. She knew what bigger and better looked like and he had the fucking nerve to show her the below average thing he had. He felt so foolish, so hurt.
7
“The girls are just going to take three measurements, gentlemen. The length, stretched length, and the mid-shaft girth of your flaccid penis,” Doctor Kilpatrick said. She got her pen out of her chest pocket and clicked it a few times.
April took Hunter’s thick, hanging penis up in her gloved hand, cradled it, then took the clear ruler and laid it across the top, pressing it into his pubic bone. She peered down through the ruler, reading out the number.
“A hundred and sixty-four,” she said.
The doctor wrote it down, saying, “One hundred and sixty-four millimetres. That’s almost six and a half inches. We use millimetres to get the most precise measurement but I still like to speak in inches since it’s what most of us are familiar with. Okay, Rebecca, if you could start measuring Ben’s…”
“Sure,” Rebecca said. She pressed the ruler hard enough into Ben’s pubic bone right above his penis that it really hurt. He didn’t mind, he needed as big a number as possible. Maybe Rebecca was just trying to help him out. “Seventy,” she said.
“Okay,” Doctor Kilpatrick said, scratching it down, “what’s that… Oh, uh… two and three quarter inches. Flaccid stretched length?”
April used her thumb and finger to pull Hunter’s foreskin back and then she gripped his shaft just below his head. She pulled it away from his body as far as it would go. Hunter’s face contorted, he hissed air through his teeth and lifted his hips off the table a bit. His penis stretched out thin and long, shit it went more than halfway down his thigh.
She looked through the clear ruler again. “Oh, uh… two hundred and forty.”
The doctor wrote that down as well. “Almost nine and a half inches,” she said. “That gives us a good idea of the erection potential.”
April let it go and Hunter’s penis swung heavily back down. They could hear it bang against the hollow metal sides of the exam table.
April was aghast, “Oh, my gosh,” she said, “I’m really sorry—so sorry.”
Hunter laughed, let her know it was okay, “It’s all right, it’s very resilient.”
“Mr Watson’s, Rebecca.”
Rebecca squeezed the end of Ben’s penis and pulled it away from his body as far as she could, peered through the ruler, moving around to read it past her fingers. She said, “One hundred and twenty.”
“Okay, that’s not quite four and three quarter inches.” She rested the clipboard on her lap, leaned forward with her elbows on it. “Ben has what we call a retractile penis. It’s very small, and it’s held very close to the body, sometimes it will go right inside. The penis and the testicles as well. Is that right, Ben?”
“Yeah, it does sometimes.”
“Right. It’s not a micro-penis. That is an abnormality. Ben’s is normal, it’s just very small. Hunter’s is, well, obviously…” she didn’t finish.
“It does grow,” he said.
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, writing something else down now. “Girth?”
April still looked upset about letting Hunter’s penis bang against the table. She bit the corner of her lower
lip. She swivelled on her stool and picked up a narrow cloth measuring tape and she wrapped it around the middle of Hunter’s hanging penis. She said, “One hundred and forty-three.”
“Yeah,” she wrote it down, “that’s five and two thirds of an inch. And Ben?”
Rebecca put the tape measure around the middle of Ben’s penis. The examination had made it shrivel even smaller now. He hoped that might add a little to the thickness. She said, “Seventy-two.”
The doctor wrote it down. “What is that? Two and three quarter inches? Okay. And now the testicles.”
April lifted one of Hunter’s testicles and it rested in her palm. She held the ruler flat against it. “His ball— sorry his testicle is seventy-two.”
“Seventy-two,” the doctor repeated looking at her clipboard. She said, “That is… just over two and three quarter inches.” She looked back down, then added, “The same size as Ben’s penis.”
Hunter’s testicle was as big as his own penis? That couldn’t be right. He looked at it resting in April’s little latex palm. It did look awfully big for a testicle. He looked down at his penis. It could be true. He guessed it was true. They were using rulers.
Rebecca pushed on his pubic pad, trying to force his left testicle out as far as it would go so she could get the ruler on it. She got the ruler against it but it got swallowed up again before she could read the number. She sighed, pushed it out again and pinched his scrotum so it wouldn’t escape from her this time.
“Ow,” Ben said. Her pinching made his ball ache.
“Sorry,” she said, “just hold on.” She looked at his testicle mashed against the clear ruler. “Thirty-eight,” she called out to the doctor.
“Thirty-eight? That’s an inch and a half. Ben, do you find your sexual performance is acceptable? Your volume of semen?”
“Sort of,” he said.
“Mm-hmm. Do you get tired easily?”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said. What was she getting at?