Author:
Nick (most embarrassing injections)
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Date Posted: Sunday, May 11, 2014, 07:11: pm
Throughout my youth and adolescence the dread instruction "Pull down your pants and bend over" always meant lowering everything to my ankles and then bending across the receptionist's lap for a shot. Even worse than the injection itself was the embarrassment of the girl watching me get it in my vulnerable bare bottom. When very young I didn't realise what was happening because I was encouraged to think what I felt was the receptionist pinching me back there but once I knew that the posterior sting was an injection I felt even worse because my contemporaries all regarded getting shots there to be childish. The older I got the worse it became because the receptionist was often only a few years older than I, so I was even more humiliated to have her see me treated like a child. I remember those later ordeals in particular detail.
In the waiting room and during the examination my thoughts were entirely fear of getting a shot like that. Terrified though I was, I craved a pretty girl's respect and didn't want her to know I was frightened. Upon hearing the inevitable instruction, I therefore obediently dropped trousers and pulled my pants all the way down before the smiling receptionist, then bent over stretching my nakedness across her lap, thereby doubtless forfeiting the respect I so desperately craved. During my long embarrassing wait while shot was prepared I ogled her shapely legs as she tried to comfort me with such condescending remarks as, "Be brave. You know you have to get it. There's nothing you can do about it now," and my fervent hope that at least she might be looking away was dashed by the feel of her stroking my bare bottom. I experienced truly mixed emotions. Whilst eager for my humiliation to end as soon as possible, I was in no hurry to feel the painful injection I knew must come first. My nervous anticipation was such that the receptionist could feel my heart throbbing against her thigh. Eventually I felt the alcohol swab where I sit and the receptionist gripping me firmly as she instructed me in the diversion to take a deep breath, close my eyes and pinch my nose. When I felt the jab, I abandoned the diversion and gripped her thigh tightly for the duration of the injection. Hearing her empathatically say that she didn't like getting shots either made me hopefully visualise her shapely bottom being injected but I was afraid to ask lest she say she got them in the arm, thereby making me feel even more childish by comparison. When at last it was over and I stood up to get dressed the receptionist praised me for taking it bravely, providing the relative satisaction that I might have earned some respect from her after all and the hope that she might have been genuinely sympathetic rather than enjoying witnessing my ordeal. My optimism about the latter was, however, once negated in convesation with another doctor's receptionist at the bus stop outside the medical centre. On noticing I had difficulty sitting down, she correctly guessed the reason and freely admitted that her favourite part of the job was holding patients across her lap and watching them injected in the bare bottom - especially teenaged boys (as I then was).
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