Army Medic

By Jack Sprat

Published on Jul 18, 1997

Gay

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ARMY MEDIC

Jack Sprat

Being drafted into the military, I felt sure that I would be assigned to some type of engineering duties, but the army had other ideas. They made me a medic. I was very upset as I knew nothing about medicine or first aid. Patient care and medicine did not interest me in the least.

After my medical training, and when I was assigned to hospital ward duty, my attitude changed. I found my work with the young male soldier patients to be very gratifying. Neither the military, nor my patients ever guessed I was gay.

On the pre-op surgical ward, I was the one who prepared the young male soldiers for surgery. This meant shaving and giving them an enema. If it were an appendectomy or an inguinal hernia case, all of their crotch hair had to be removed.

The prep room was a private area with an examining table that had the clean white paper that was always replaced for the next patient. Alongside the table was a double ring stand basin with two bowls of warm water, soap, a razor, and clean towels. When the young man entered, I would ask him to strip completely naked, lie on the examining table and spread his legs.

Naturally, I had to be ethical, and I was. I'd lather his crotch and let the razor do its work. This, of course, included gripping each ball as I shaved his sac. Also, tender and caring, I'd take his soft dick and shave away imaginary fuzz, wondering its size if it were erect. I would have him turn over and shave the innerside of his legs, admiring a beautiful bare butt. My thumb and forefinger would gently open the bottom of his crack exposing his pucker. I'd run the razor gently, just inside his lower crack, like there were hairs to be removed. A fresh water rinse followed, with my toweled hand pushing deeply inside his tight cheeks. rubbing him dry. Turning him over, I would again rinse and dry his hairless, shaven crotch.

The enema area was in the ward bathroom, partitioned off by a cloth screen. A patient would arrive just before bed time, a robe covering his body. I would have him remove it and he would stand naked as I filled the enema can to its brim then liberally grease up the hose tip. It was O.K. to give another visual inspection of his crotch, sans hair, joking with him as to my expert barbering and how drafty it was going to be down there for awhile.

Greased tip in hand, I would have him bend over and put his hands on his knee caps. Moving behind him, getting a good look at his healthy hanging balls, I would spread his butt and momentarily inspect his tight pucker. I needed to insert the hose maybe five or six inches. Usually, I pushed it a little higher. I explained that he was to receive a full enema, to get him really cleaned out, that if he wasn't completely clean, he could shit all over the operating table during his surgery.

After running all the hot, soapy water up his ass, I would slowly slide the hose out, and ask him to hold the water for five minutes if he possible could. I would look at my watch and wait, taking admiring glances at his naked anatomy. Some became quite uncomfortable, grimmaced and squirmed, making an extra effort to keep their asshole clamped extra tight to hold the water that pressed against it. Most were able to hold it for the five minutes, then made a mad dash to the nearest commode.

One kid took a half a can, screamed "I can't hold any more", yanked the hose out, and dove to the toilet. When he had fully relieved himself, I told him it was essential to take the rest. He complied a second time, bent over, and I again shoved the hose up his ass to complete the job.

Penicillin was just coming on the market and the dosage was weak. Those prescribed the drug got a shot every four hours moving to one arm to the other, then to one buttock and the other. I had to give the shots and would assist them in pulling down their PJ's for access to their butts. I've never seen so many young, cute cheeks. It was hard not to explore further, but I had to control myself. I could, however, take an alcohol drenched surgical sponge and massage the cheek that received needle entrance, having the satisfaction of some touch.

Once, a young boy was brought in with a head injury. He was unconscious. He was assigned a private room and I had to undress and bathe him. Naturally, his uncut pecker had to be washed, which I did, sliding back its skin and giving his cherry a good cleansing, plus working plenty of soap against his sac and balls. His young, fresh, pink, cheeks really turned me on. Two beautiful mounds and a nice tight crack. I washed deeply several times to make sure he was clean, paying special attention to the top of his youthful pucker. I wanted to slip my soapy finger inside him, but to take advantage of his condition would be very unethical.

The boy seemed fully recovered the second day, but the doctors decided to keep him a week for observation. I was obsessed by his beautiful butt and wanted to see it again. I didn't know what finesse to use to make him unsuspecting of anything out of routine. It was my duty to take his temperature orally at bedtime, and I thought of a perfect solution.

The following night I appeared with a tube of KY and a rectal thermometer. I told him that the thermometer jar, containing the oral thermometers, which were sterilizing when not in use, had been dropped, breaking the most of them. Only rectal thermometers were available. Without questioning, the kid pulled down his PJ's, rolled to his stomach, and spread his legs. His beautiful butt and pucker was for my viewing. I lubed the thermometer, spread his cheeks and slipped the glass rod up his ass, the upper half erotically sticking out. While temperature time was three minutes, I left it up him for five minutes admiring his backside anatomy. I did this for four nights in a row. He never questioned and was never wiser.

I felt I was a very good, compassionate medic, doing whatever I could to make patients comfortable giving as much TLC as possible. All I did was in the line of duty, but perhaps, at times, applying a small bit of over-enthusiasm. The thermometer episode was the only time I felt I'd stepped over my bounds.

God! He had a cute ass.

The End

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