Katy Frank had been home sick for two days and her mom didn’t see much improvement. Mrs Frank suspected her daughter had strep throat and against her better judgement had delayed a visit to the doctor because of Katy’s protests that she was getting better and didn’t need to see the doctor. Mrs Frank suspected the real reason for the twelve-year-old’s aversion to a visit to the doctor was the very real possibility that it would conclude with Katy’s getting an antibiotic shot.

Out of Katy’s ear-shot, Mrs Frank called their family practice doctor’s office and described Katy’s symptoms. She cursed inwardly when asked about the girl’s temperature that she had not yet taken. She told the nurse she would call back in a few minutes and headed to the bathroom to find the thermometer. She pushed aside the digital version, knowing the nurse wanted a reliable temperature that she maintained was only available via rectal methods. Mrs Frank entered Katy’s room with the old-style thermometer and a jar of Vaseline. “Roll over, Katy,” she instructed.

“No!” the girl shrieked, knowing the intended destination of the thermometer.

Mrs Frank calmly set the thermometer and lube on the dresser and picked-up a wooden hairbrush that resided on the girls dresser. The brush was almost never used for its designed purpose, instead being frequently and liberally applied to Katy’s bare backside when her behavior ran afoul of her parent’s expectations. In between spankings, it resided on the dresser as a reminder of its adopted purpose and in a convenient location when a frustrated parent instructed Katy to ‘fetch the brush’.

“No!”, Katy howled realizing that the brush was a harbinger of something much worse than a rectal thermometer.

Mrs Frank was unfazed by the protest and pulled the girl over her knee. She tugged down Katy’s flannel pajama bottoms and began to wallop the tween’s bare bottom with the improvised paddle. When Katy’s cheeks were well-reddened and the girl was bawling uncontrollably, Mrs Frank retrieved the thermometer and sank it into her daughter’s puckered anus. A few minutes later she extracted the thermometer and left the room.

A few minutes later she returned and commanded, “Get dressed. You have a doctor’s appointment.”

Katy thought about protesting but realized that would be counter-productive and likely even more painful.

Soon she was sitting on the exam table as Dr Talbot examined her. He was a genial older man. Katy guessed he was a fair bit older than her parents and even though his solution to almost any ailment was a shot in the butt, she liked him. He gently felt her head, ear, throat and neck, then slid a stethoscope under her shirt. Perhaps more than baring her bottom, having him touch her chest was even more embarrassing. He also undid her jeans to palpate her abdomen.

“Your mom guessed right,” he concluded. “Gonna get you fixed up, though.” Katy began to zip up her jeans and he gently blocked her hand, “Leave that undone. I need to attend to some business down there.”

Katy groaned knowing ‘business’ meant a shot. Why would it be any different than the countless other appointments?

“Lay on your tummy and slide your jeans and panties down,” he instructed and then turned to tell the nurse the medication and dosage. The nurse then proceeded to draw the medication into a large syringe with a seemingly huge needle. To Katy it looked like a harpoon. Dr Talbot was chatting with Mrs Frank, but Katy didn’t hear a word of the conversation, her attention was affixed to the instrument that would imminent be jabbed into her.

Dr Talbot turned to take the prepared syringe and only then noticed Katy’s red bottom. “Somebody’s been naughty, I see,” he jested.

“We had a bit of a disagreement earlier today,” Mrs Frank noted.

Katy felt the swab of alcohol, stinging a bit since her bottom was already a bit raw. Then a tight pinch with the needle poke and soon a growing, burning sensation as the viscous medication was forced into her glute. She stifled the urge to cry out as the pain grew more intense. “All done,” Dr Talbot announced but the searing pain did not subside.

The ride home was wordless. Her mom was still angry from the earlier encounter and Katy knew not to aggravate the situation lest she get the belt on top of an already very sore bottom. Her mom instructed her to change back into pajamas and get some rest. Before heading back to bed, she made a detour to the bathroom and inspected her sore butt in the mirror. She pealed off the bandaid on the injection site, and prodded the needle mark gently with her finger and felt the lump deep in her tush.

Little did Katy know that the shot and spanking that she dreaded now would become a fantastic passion in her adulthood.