Acceptance

In the summer after 10th grade, it was time for me to go to the hospital for an examination from the military enlistment office. Needless to say, I didn't want to waste a week of my summer lying around in a hospital, but there was no way out. Right at the entrance to the hospital was a "post" — a student desk with a chair behind it, where a nurse was sitting. Next to her stood another one — a tall, stately woman around 30, nearly two meters tall, with white (most likely dyed) curls cascading to her shoulders, wearing a snow-white robe with a badge on her small (relative to her height) chest. Underneath, only underwear was discernible (and sometimes visible) (seemingly white with flowers

)). Before I could even open my mouth, this latter one addressed me roughly:

— Here for the medical examination? — she stated my last name.

— Yes.

— Good, I, — she introduced herself, — will be mainly taking care of you today. To start, tell her, — she nodded towards the colleague sitting at the desk, — your full name, age, date of birth.

I did as I was told.

— Alright… now, did you bring your documents?

— Yes. — I handed her a plastic folder.

— Good, robe, pajamas, sweatpants, anything like that?

I nodded.

— Well, I'm practically happy, let's go.

— Came to surrender? — This latter one smirked. — Any valuables?

I shook my head no.

— Turn out your pockets.

I turned out both side pockets of my shorts.

— Clear, that's good, now strip down to your underwear, give me your clothes.

I looked questioningly at the women present, but seeing their serious faces, I didn't make them ask twice, besides, I secretly expected this. And both of them very soon saw just how strongly… Glancing over me, the cloakroom attendant smiled slightly, then said more sternly:

— Last name, initials.

I gave them.

— How old are you exactly?

— 16.

The interlocutor wrote something in a log, then took my things behind a lattice partition, from where she returned with a plastic tag.

— Hold this, just don't lose it.

— Can we go? — asked the nurse who brought me.

— Yes, good that he came empty-handed, less hassle with papers.

— Good, let's go, — she roughly took me by the elbow.

— W… wait, but…

— Pfft, big deal, — the cloakroom attendant interjected, — even the girls here aren't shy, and you're a boy, it's a hospital!

— Exactly, — the nurse tugged my elbow and we left the office.

Our path, as it turned out, led all the way to the end of a rather long corridor, and then up the stairs to the second floor. Along the way, we encountered several women, some of whom weren't even in white coats. But I seemed to interest them little, as the nurse expressed on the matter:

— Nobody needs you here, it's for the cause, after all.

On the second floor, we first approached the registration desk, where a woman quite similar to the previous employee made me state my details again and hand over my documents. After that, we entered a room where I was to stay alone for now, and left my things there.

— So, well, now for the interesting part, — my escort smiled strangely. — You see, we found some nasty bugs here, and since then every admitted patient undergoes sanitary treatment, let's go to the bathroom.

The bathroom door, once we entered, the woman locked with a key. That very sound — a simple metallic click — affected me so that I felt a powerful erection.

— Take off your underwear, — the nurse said in a commanding tone, pretending not to notice the change that had occurred in me.

As soon as I freed myself from the last piece of clothing, my member stood straight up, and a white droplet appeared at its tip. Glancing at it briefly, she smiled faintly.

— Sit, — the nurse nodded towards a stool and began searching for something in a drawer behind my back to the barely audible sound of drops falling from the tip.

After a while, she pulled out a manual hair clipper from there.

— It's going to hurt now, — she continued, — but there's nothing to be done.

The clipper, indeed, very, very painfully ripped out the hairs almost from the root. But this very pain, coupled with the feeling on my own shoulder of a hand with long, thin fingers ending in short but well-groomed nails, and the awareness that a woman, and a young one at that, was doing all this to me, completely naked, soon did its job. But I had to endure until the end of this unpleasant procedure.

— Alright, stand up. — The nurse said, finishing. — Go wet the head, because we still have a long way to go here with you.

I did as I was told.

— Come to the toilet, bend over.

A bit perplexed, I approached the toilet standing right there, apparently long used only for dumping water after mopping floors, and the like.

— Open your mouth.

Before I could do so, two fingers were in my very throat, penetrating deeper and deeper, until…

— Stand up straight, — the nurse said curtly, washing her hand of the remnants of my vomit, — wait a bit. — Now come here, get in the bathtub.

Turning on the shower (from which first boiling water, then ice-cold water came out), she began thoroughly soaping me from all sides, not particularly caring that soap got in my eyes; apparently, she treated me like working material, until she reached the groin. For some reason, she decided to wash it especially thoroughly and a bit more gently than the rest of my body. My member stood rigidly right in her hand, but either she didn't attach importance to it, or she found this fact amusing and wanted to play a little, but the pace of her hand movements became more and more frequent (at least, it seemed so to me). I tried to free myself, but while continuing with one hand, with the other she firmly grabbed me by the waist. All that remained was to wait for the inevitable outcome, quietly moaning through my teeth…

So I came against my will. After that, she attended to my legs, then, rinsing everything with the same ice-cold water, said as if nothing had happened:

— That's it, put on your underwear, go to the room. I'll come to you later, need to take your temperature and give you directions for examinations.

— Okay, thank you.

— Don't mention it… And, though it's none of my business, you should find yourself a girlfriend, because really, it's kind of awkward… in every sense…

The End