The inner waiting room startles me as being excitingly/frighteningly reminiscent of that from my youth and I stare at the beautiful recepionist's shapely legs with the same apprehension as I did then. She senses my anxiety and I explain my memories of ogling the receptionist's legs from across her lap with my pants down for injections. She smiles, saying that the nurse likes to give shots in the bottom and that she (the receptionist) enjoys hearing patients being told to bend over for injections and seeing them gingerly rub their bottoms after getting them but that her wish actually to see a bare bottom injected remains unfulfilled. Whilst I have long felt nostalgic and fantasised about bending over receptionists' laps for my childhood and adolescent injections, I really fancy this girl and crave her respect which, as a grown man, I would doubless forfeit by getting a shot in that humiliatng position. She tries to calm me with an unconvincing, "I hope you don't need a shot today".

After a long, apprehensive wait with the receptionist, an attractive nurse emerges and stuns me with the anticipated question, "How about a shot?" She explains that I can either wait for the doctor, who may or may not give me the option of lenghthy oral medication, or I could get it all over with one injection now. I ask if it will hurt and she confirms the injection site with, "You might not be able to sit down for a couple of days," adding, "It's up to you." Whilst injections in the bottom from beautiful nurses has long been my pet fantasy, the sudden prospect of realising that fantasy scares me. I furtively look to the receptionist for advice and, as fearfully anticipated, she replies on my behalf, "Give him the shot." I try to remind myself that I will be living my fantasy but my nervousness is so overt that the nurse asks if I want to be held down. The receptionst again replies for me, "Whatever you say, nurse," and the three of us go in together.

I am of mixed emotions - appreciating the sensuality of the scenario but fearing the embarrassment - as the receptionist sits on the table with her mini-skirt displaying the lovely thighs over which I will soon bend for a painful shot. She opines that the bottom is the best place for injections because, "It's fleshier back there and, when bent over, you can't see what is happening," "I won't be able to see but you will," I reply and she excites me with confirmation that she will certainly be watching. "Pull down your pants," commands the nurse and I hesitantly unfasten my trousers, lowering them and my pants in back only. Looking disappointed, the receptionist calls the nurse's attention, who clearly pleases her with the instruction, "All the way down." I let my trousers drop but that doesn't satisfy the nurse, who promptly pulls my pants all the way down, exposing my erection to the smiling receptionist. When the nurse tells me to bend over, the receptionst says, "Come on, you know you have to get this," and obligingly raises her skirt to regale me with maximum view of the lithe thighs across which I reluctantly stretch my nakedness. Abasement complete, my thoughts turn to the shot itself as I ogle the full length of the girl's shapely leg until I glance her stiletto heels, the points of which remind me of the needle destined for my vulnerable bare bottom. She asks if I am scared, explaining that she can feel my heart throbbing against her thigh, and I have to admit that I am. "I know how you feel," she says, momentarily providing me with the delightful diversion of visualising her in the same position as she continues, "bending over, trousers and pants around your ankles, bare bottom across my lap, nurse behind you with a big injection, knowing what is going to happen but helpless to avoid it; knowing it will hurt but unable to do anything about it." Her comment sums up exactly how I feel as I grip her thigh in anticipation, prompting her to tell the nurse, "The poor man is gripping onto me for dear life." After a seeming eternity, I hear the nurse approach behind and ask which side I want it in. I feel the receptionist poke the middle of the upper outside quadrant of my right buttock as she says, "Give it to him right back here." She then tells me, "When I pinch you, close your eyes, take a deep breath and hold your nose." About to burst with anxiety, I feel the alcohol swab on the designated site and then the pinch of long fingernails on my left cheek. I do as instructed and then feel the jab, which is not as bad as feared. Just as I begin to relax, however, my buttock begins to sear with pain, making the receptionist giggle, "Did you think the sting was the shot? That was just the needle. You're getting the injection now. It takes all my effort to remain still and silent for the long painful ordeal as I visualise the receptionist enjoying the spectacle to my chagrin. At last I feel the needle come out and a plaster applied to the tender site. As I stand and get dressed, the nurse tells me to wait five minutes before leaving and I exit with the clearly delighted receptionist.

A girl is waiting outside and the receptionist invites me to sit down, but I gingerly rub my aching buttock and reply, "I'd rather stand," enabling her to complete my humiliation by explaining to the girl in vivid detail how I just pulled everyting down and bent over her lap as she watched the nurse give me a big shot in the bare bottom.