The Next Patient

When I was twelve years old, an older boy sort of buffaloed me into performing some sexual services for him. Although the first instance was more or less rape, or coercion at the very least, nevertheless I enjoyed it and I used to go to his place with him after school every other week or so.

At some point my school suffered a mild epidemic, I can't even remember what it was, but my whole class was scheduled to see the local doctor. I went for my appointment but when I was actually in the doctor's room he said he had an emergency and I'd have to come back at 5 o'clock. When I went back he let me in himself. He was the only one there. He took me to the examination room and got me in the nude almost immediately, and then while he was tapping and probing, taking my temperature and so on, he asked me about "your friend Charles" - Charles being the boy who was doing me after school.

At first I said he wasn't my friend but it was obvious Dr M knew I was, not only that, he clearly knew the nature of our 'friendship' and questioned me closely about it. And you can imagine where that all led. I used to wonder how Dr M got wind of what I'd been doing and it wasn't until years later that I realized it was Charles - Charles had been one of Dr M's special patients too at one time.

When Charles first got in my pants I was very innocent, in the sense that I had virtually no knowledge of sex. But I was getting interested. I was an only child and my mother was the only other person in our household and she was very religious. And I went to catholic schools, so I knew next to nothing.

Charles sort of exploited this, oddly enough. He started walking home from school with me and he would talk dirty to me, constantly talk about sex. I loved it. He often had to explain what the words he was using meant - 'perv' for example, and 'nosh' - slang for cock-sucking. I'd never heard of cock-sucking. Let alone sodomy - in fact I hardly believed him on that. I thought he must be pulling my leg. But there were some graffiti in the bathrooms at the station and one of them showed exactly what he was describing.

I was a cautious boy and it took Charles a while to wear me down so I'd go into his house with him at the end of our walk. But once I did go in he had us play 'wrestling' in their basement - and like real wrestlers, in our underpants. We would both get stiff and we both understood the wrestling game was a fig leaf, that the real purpose was so he could rub himself on me, and I actually enjoyed it. And then he started pulling my underpants off. I'd be laughing and struggling but there was nothing I could do about it since he was about twice as big as me. So then one afternoon he put his knob against my face and said I had to kiss it - to 'submit.' And that led fairly rapidly to me learning how to suck his cock. The spunk was pretty gross - I didn't know about spunk - but that night in bed I relived every detail of what I'd done, every last gob of spunk. I masturbated for so long that I was falling asleep in class the next day.

He liked to bum me too but I was less keen on that. I liked the idea of it, I liked the feel of him on top of me, me completely nude. But it was a bit uncomfortable. One time he tied me up with a stretchy bandage and I liked that too.

One of the things Charles pointed out to me was people staring at me. I had been aware of this for a little while but I didn't understand it. I was a good looking boy and a bit effeminate, and any boy who looks that way will tell you, you get a lot of attention from certain older boys and men. Even though I was observant enough to be aware of it I had no idea what it meant. So one day when we were walking a man stared at me and after we'd walked passed Charles said, "Did you see that?!" and we had a conversation about it.

"Why did he stare at me?" I asked, a pretty obvious question.

"He's imagining you with your clothes off." Wow.

Then another time, when he had me tied up, he told me that some of 'the pervs' - the men who stared at me - were imagining me tied up like this, their prisoner, and getting bummed. That became almost my main masturbation fantasy.

So the thing is that if Dr M had made his move on me only a few months earlier I don't think I would have been receptive. But by the time I was actually lying in the nude on his examination table that afternoon, with him working his slippery finger in my anus and sort of interrogating me about what sort of things I'd done for Charles - I don't want to say I wasn't apprehensive, I was. But my anxiety wasn't about Dr M using me sexually. In fact the thought of that was intensely exciting. It was that he was a friend of my family. But this basically got brushed aside.

Dr M questioned me closely about what things Charles had made me do for him, and in tremendous detail.

"Did you take his erection in your mouth?"
"Did he come in your mouth?"
"Did he sodomize you?"

He had to explain to me what 'sodomize' meant, since Charles used the word 'bum' as a verb to mean sodomy. And making me tell him how I was positioned when I sucked Charles's cock, when I took him up my bum.

I was completely nude, and Dr M was probing and touching as he interrogated me. When he was asking detailed questions about Charles bumming me he was touching my anus. When I agreed that Charles did me in my bum, Dr M sort of wiggled his finger a bit and worked it a bit up my bum. I got stiff and I was intensely embarrassed. When he asked if Charles had handled my cock or sucked me (he hadn't), Dr M handled my erection - not to stimulate me, I don't think, but rather the same thing as he touched my bum when he was asking about me getting bummed.

After he had drawn out of me a detailed description of how I would please Charles with my mouth and my hands, Dr M simply said, quietly, "Show me."

I knew what he meant but it took more than a few seconds to sink in, that he wanted me to do for him what I'd been describing doing for Charles. He had stepped away from the examination table I was lying on and that sort of fed me another cue - what we had been doing was finished, now we were going to do something else. It must sound odd.

But then I sort of came to, woke up as it were. I got off the table and looked around. Remember I was young. Charles used to sit on a sofa and have me kneel on the floor in front of him, between his legs, but the examination room had no sofa. Dr M asked me what was wrong. I suppose my face told him I couldn't proceed, and I said we need a sofa. So he guided me through to his office, complete with old green sofa.

I can't tell you how strange and yet exciting it was to walk through Dr M's rooms in the nude. I had always been very aroused by even having my pants down. I think a lot of boys have that. And to walk along the corridor with nothing on, through the reception room, and into Dr M's big plush gloomy private office was curiously exhilarating. I was self-conscious but strangely elated.

And once in the office I took up again on the 'show me' instruction. I had Dr M sit on the sofa. I took one of its cushions and put it on the floor in front of him and knelt down on it, then undid his belt and dragged and rolled his pants and underpants down, got his shoes off, got him bare from the waist down, same as Charles always had me do. Then I parted his legs wide and moved the cushion forward so I was kneeling right in front of Dr M's erection. (Charles's basement had a very rough fibre carpet on the floor and it hurt my knees when I knelt down to suck him off; hence the cushion).

I had been sort of tutored by Charles on what to do at this point. I took Dr M's nob in my fist and slimed the drops of spunk over it to make it slippery, and used my other hand to bring up more by sliding up under his cock. Then I knelt up so my face was above the level of his knob and then bowed down over his cock and took his knob in my mouth. I had been taught to use my mouth and my hands at the same time and that's what I did.

Dr M's cock, looking back, wasn't all that big. But I didn't know that then, and there's nothing that makes a cock seem bigger than taking it in your mouth. Charles's being my only yardstick, so to speak, I was aware of having to open my mouth wider for Dr M. And there were other differences that have stayed with me. Dr M was rather overweight, and when a bit further on I moved my mouth down as far as I could onto Dr M's erection, I remember not being able to go any further at some point because his rather large tummy obstructed any further downward movement of my forehead.

But then I followed the other things Charles had tutored me to do. I moved my mouth and fist up and down over Dr M's knob, and up and down his shaft a bit, slobbering over his knob and keeping it completely slimy; and with my other hand, handling his balls - also bigger - and reaching back under his balls to tough his bum, to finger his arsehole.

This was all incredibly exciting for me. I was just made that way, I wanted to please him. And of course when I was touching his anus while I sucked his knob, after a minute I could feel that I was getting somewhere. I knew that clenching of his ring on my finger in his bum that said he was going to come.

At that point I was still not very keen on them coming in my mouth so I knelt up a bit and worked his knob with my fist as he started to come. I was very aware that he came less and it didn't go as far as Charles. Dr M wasn't old but he was by no means a teenager either and his spunk went on my chest and some down on my bare thighs.

The answer is (blush) I went back for more. I never went to his surgery again. I used to go to his house. Quite a few of the houses in that area backed onto a wooded area and his did too and I used to go though the woods, at his suggestion, and come in the back way, presumably so that neighbors wouldn't see a boy visiting him.

The next discovery was that my first session with him would not be typical. As I said, my yardstick was Charles, a 16-year-old. He would come almost whatever I did, and often stay hard and come again. Dr M never again came so easily and our sessions fairly regularly became that he would masturbate himself while I sat leaning against him, him feeling me up with one hand while he jerked himself off with the other. I handled his balls and fingered his anus and told him dirty stories about what else I'd done. I hadn't actually done very much at that point so we drifted on to what I thought about when I masturbated, and it turned out he liked the whole tying-up theme too.

A long time later, I realized that the reason Dr M knew I was a good prospect was that Charles had told him I was, and that the reason Charles was passing on information like that to Dr M was that Charles had been Dr M's pet too when he was young. I would lie in bed at night and masturbate and puzzle it through. When he told me to 'show me' what I'd done for Charles... Charles had taught me what to do for him... and Dr M had taught Charles those things four or so years before. It was like one of those sci-fi time travel conundrums.

I've read that boys from homes with no male role models want men to like them, and whether the psych is correct I don't know, but I was certainly that kid. I took such a powerful pleasure from pleasing Dr M. And it sort of opened up a whole new world. Over the next few years I did a number of men - not to mention older boys - and I loved it. Perhaps not every minute of it by, you know, on the whole.

Then I started to get interested in the girls and the homo stuff tapered off.

For quite a few years I suppressed it, pretty successfully. I pretended to myself, and certainly to others, that I had never done homo things. "Me? Straight as a stick." Then my second wife, who also started early, and also got up to some pretty murky stuff, we began telling one another bits and pieces about what we'd got up to before we knew each other. And we found we liked it, reminiscing and masturbating. We still do, and she loves my stories.