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Subject: {ASSM} I Couldn't Win
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Date: Sun, 08 Apr 2007 14:10:05 -0400
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Semi-realistic Medical erotica - M/F


                              I  COULDN'T WIN


The most embarrassing experience of my life to date, in the general
field of "things medical", rates that title because of the whole
context in which it took place, rather than because of the actual
events it involved.

I was fourteen: a fall off my bicycle had caused a cut knee, putting-
right of which meant a visit to our family-G.P.-establishment. I was
seen to by Dr. Hargreaves, who had recently joined the practice. He
was young and tall and good-looking (and single), and I could have
wished to be seeing him about something less childish and unglamorous,
than what had in fact brought me to his surgery. After cleaning up the
wound and putting in the necessary couple of stitches, Dr. Hargreaves
told me that he needed to give me an anti-tetanus injection; and he
went on to let me know that this injection had to be done in my
bottom. In consternation, I begged him to let it be in my arm; but he
explained that it had to be administered in the other place, for its
preventive effects to spread around my body as quickly as possible. I
felt that I wanted to die of embarrassment, as I bared my behind and
the needle went into the tender and private spot. Before I left the
surgery, he told me that I'd need to see him again in three weeks'
time for a booster injection.

At the time, I found the experience hateful; but over the succeeding
days, it came in retrospect, to feel more exciting and pleasurable -
Dr. H. was, after all, definitely attractive. As the days went by, I
found myself looking forward more and more, to my return visit to him
for the "booster" rerun of the event. This time round, I felt, I'd
enjoy taking my pants down for the handsome doctor. In the interim, my
stitches were taken out by the practice nurse; but "I-Day Two" was
still to come.

The great day came round,   and I presented myself for my appointment
in plenty of time - wearing my prettiest panties, heart thumping,
butterflies in my stomach. Things were running a few minutes late, but
at last I was called in to be attended to. Dr. H. greeted me with,
"right, Emma; tetanus booster shot, isn't it?  Just go into the
treatment room, will you, and get ready," (he indicated the room
leading off from his consulting area) "and I'll be with you in a
minute."

Bliss!  Into the next room I went, and over to the examination couch.
I pulled my knickers right the way down, bent over the couch, and
raised my skirt most fully up around and past my waist, leaving my
bottom half totally bare above the feet. The doctor seemed to be
taking his time getting things together, and it felt as though I were
in there on my own for two or three minutes, for sure, and getting
progressively more excited about the situation. I have a hyperactive
imagination at any time, and as things were right then, it started to
run amok. I envisaged Dr. H. coming in, seeing me bent over awaiting
him, my bottom and all the back of my legs indecently exposed, and
falling in love with me on the spot. After giving me this injection,
he'd arrange - for propriety's sake - for me to transfer to the
patient list of another doctor in the practice, and we'd embark on a
most tender and adoring relationship. In a year and a half's time I'd
be sixteen, and we could have sex and / or get married without "just
cause or impediment": the waiting would be hard, but it wasn't all
that long a time, and with our loving each other, we'd bear it. I'd
always rather liked the idea of being a child bride. I'd just started
on an order-of-preference list of names for our children, when Dr. H.
came into the treatment room.

"That looks very nice," he said, "but this injection can be given in
the arm." And the bloody man insisted on truly doing it in my arm. As
I pulled my knickers up, I felt utterly mortified. This situation
really took the prize for highly acute embarrassment, for a whole
bunch of different reasons all at the same time. Though I'm sure Dr.
Hargreaves was essentially a lovely guy, I was never able to forgive
him for this prank, for the whole time I remained a patient with the
practice he belonged to; and it was a relief to me when I left home
and never had to see him again.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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