I had met Sara at a mixer held at a conference for department chairs of small colleges. She was flirtatious and fun. I thought, at first, she was being innocently provocative but then realized her true intentions. Soon we were back in her hotel room, quickly naked and in her bed. It was a fantastic romp - until it wasn’t.

About two weeks after that encounter, I got a text from a blocked number. ‘It’s Sara. Got unfortunate news - I tested positive for syphilis and gonorrhea. I’ve gotten treatment. Ouch! You should, too. Sorry!’

I had left her my number in case she was interested in anything more than a one-night meet-up. Not asking for her number allowed her to control any future connection that she had just anonymously used to convey bad news. I also wondered what she meant by ‘Ouch!’. I Googled the STDs and found that both were treatable with injections of antibiotics in the tush. A fetish I seldom told anyone is that I actually craved shots in the butt, so I was kind of excited when I called my friend, Kim, who was a nurse practitioner. She advised me to come by her clinic later that afternoon and she could see me after hours.

I arrived at the clinic just before six. The place looked deserted but a young woman came out from behind the reception desk. “I’m Jess,” she said after letting me in, “I’m a medical assistant and will be helping Kim.” She led me back to an exam room when Kim was typing notes into a workstation.

“So tell me about this,” Kim prompted. I ran through the generalities of the encounter - the impromptu, anonymous and unprotected sex - and then Sara’s text message. “Ok,” Kim replied. “Let’s do a thorough exam and then we’ll have a better idea of how to proceed. She had Jess take my vitals and then showed her how exam of my mouth. “Drop your pants, please,” Kim instructed. I complied and she guided Jess through the process of a detailed inspection of my penis and testicles. “Turn around and bend over,” she added. I felt her part my cheeks and heard her tell Jess how to visually inspect my anus and then insert a finger inside to probe more deeply.

“I’m kinda surprised you acted so recklessly,” Kim scolded. “I have a good mind to not only treat you but punish you, as well.” She paused, “You know, you really do deserve a whoopin’” She pulled my belt from my pants that were bunched around my ankles, doubled it in her hand and gave my bare ass six hard strokes. The rectal exam has already caused some stiffening and the spanking fully hardened me. “This is a skill you should know, as well,” Kim said, handing the strap to Jess.

“Oh, I’m well acquainted with how to strap a fellow’s bare backside,” Jess replied. “My boyfriend gets his ass tanned at least once a week.” Kim smiled broadly as Jess, stroked my already fiery ass another half-dozen times.

“The standard treatment given the news of an infected partner is to draw blood for a multi-disease screening test and treat you prophylactically for syphilis and gonorrhea,” Kim announced.

“What does ‘prophylactically’ mean?” I asked, actually knowing the concept but begging to hear them say it.

“It means preventatively,” Kim replied suspecting I was perfectly aware of the term. “Practically speaking it means you’re getting three injections in your tush.” I’d begun to pull up my pants after the rectal exam and subsequent spanking. “Why don’t you just step out of your pants and leave your bottom bare for us,” Kim advised. “Jess will draw your blood for the test while I go get your shots ready.”

Jess expertly found a vein and collected the blood into a tube. Moments later, Kim returned with three syringes. I was sitting on the exam table, my bare butt on the crinkly paper. “Lay facedown, please,” Jess instructed.

“You know,” Kim noted, “We’ve not taken his temperature. Can you insert a thermometer?” Jess retrieved an old-fashioned glass thermometer from a drawer, added a dollop of lube to the bulbous tip and inserted it into my rectum. Kim handed Jess two of the syringes and went around to the other side of the table. “Start with the Rocephin,” Kim advised her partner and then added, for my benefit, “This one shouldn’t hurt too much.” Jess cleaned a spot on my left cheek and jabbed me with the syringe. I felt the wonderful warm pressure of medication being forced deep into my glute.

“No sugar-coating it, the next shots of Bicillin can really hurt,” Jess noted, and then counted, “One, two.” One the silent ‘three’, both women stuck me with identical syringes of antibiotics and slowly force the thick, creamy contents into my cheeks.

I loved the feeling and wished it was something I could repeat frequently. Perhaps I would need to pursue another reckless, anonymous fornication. My erection against the exam table as my ass throbbed with extra fluid pumped deep into my muscle was an awesome sensation that I wanted to repeat again soon.