Katie rang the doorbell as promised at 1:30.

She was not what most people would call “beautiful”, in the top-model sense of the word. But she was definitely cute, with short brown hair, a slightly freckled face, a slim body with wide hips and perky breasts that sagged just a little and bounced delightfully when she walked or laughed. Today she wore jeans and a yellow polo shirt that barely hid her lovely curves.

I stood there slightly mesmerized, unsure whether it was from the fever or my longstanding infatuation with her.

“Hi, Luke! Your mom says you’re not feeling well.”

“Hi, Katie. Yeah, I seem to have caught something nasty.” I tried to remain as casual as possible, in order not to betray the wild emotions running through my head.

“Well, I’m sure the doctor will be able to help! Ready to go?”

We arrived at the pediatrics office after a short drive in Katie’s car. Although I hadn’t been there in a while, it looked just the same. Katie immediately went up to reception to announce our arrival. I was a little surprised at how she took charge, but decided to let it pass and took a seat in the corner of the waiting room. The practice was fairly busy, with a number of small children and their mothers also waiting. I was embarrassed to be the oldest “patient” there, and that Katie was so obviously in charge. But at the same time, it was nice to be in a familiar place and not to have to worry about managing the process myself.

Katie soon finished at reception and took the seat next to me. “They’re running a little bit late, but it shouldn’t be too long,” she said in a reassuring voice as she picked up a magazine. I watched the steady stream of kids coming and going with their parents. Fortunately, I didn’t recognize anyone and was thus spared the need to explain why I was still going to the pediatrician.

Finally, after about 20 minutes, the door to the back opened and an attractive woman came out with a clipboard. She looked to be in her early forties, a little taller than me, with medium length blonde hair. Her scrubs, which included a top printed with yellow smiley faces, did little to hide what I found to be a rather shapely body. A stethoscope dangled from around her neck.

“Luke Williams?” she called out, looking in my direction. I guess they didn’t have any other 18-year-olds scheduled, so she must have identified me right away.

Katie and I got up at the same time and walked forward.

“Hi, Luke, I’m Jill,” she said holding out her hand with a smile. “I’ll be looking after you today.”

She then turned to Katie.

“You must be Katie Richards. Nice to meet you. Mrs. Williams left a message saying said you would be accompanying our young patient today.”

Katie smiled. “Yes, she is on a business trip, so I volunteered. This poor guy is definitely not well.”

“Well, hopefully we can take care of that!” said Jill, still smiling. “Come on back. We’ll be in exam room 3.”

I looked gingerly at Katie, trying to steel up my courage to tell her she could wait in the reception area, but she proceeded ahead, and I felt obliged to follow the two women down the corridor.

Exam room 3 was typical for a pediatrician’s office. It wasn’t huge, but there was enough space to walk around. The walls were painted with pictures of mermaids. The exam table sat in the center of the room. It was a wooden cabinet-style fixture, about 6 feet long and 2 feet wide, with built-in drawers. The top of the table came up to my waist and consisted of a flat blue cushion two inches thick. The cushion was already covered with a sheet of crinkly white paper decorated with drawings of butterflies.

I had always wondered why they used such big exam tables for children but now realized that it was high enough to allow the doctor or nurse to comfortably conduct an exam without having to bend. I also noted (not without some trepidation) that it was long enough to accommodate even a fully-grown person like me lying down.

To one side of the room was a sink and work counter. On top of the counter, I could see containers with the usual material: cotton swabs, wooden tongue depressors, alcohol, tissues. There was also an otoscope with various attachments and a blood pressure cuff. What really caught my eye, though, were the two jars holding glass thermometers in clear liquid. One jar was market “O” and contained at least ten thermometers with long, slender silver tips and small, blue triangles at the ends of the stems. The other jar, the one marked “R”, contained just three thermometers, all of which had short, stubby tips like the one Mom had used on me earlier that morning. Those ones had red triangles. Next to those jars was a tube of Vaseline.

For the second time that day, my heart began pounding.

Against the wall at one end of the exam table, perpendicular to the work counter, were two chairs for parents placed against the wall. Katie sat down in the one closest to the table.

“OK, Luke, why don’t you hop up on the table,” Jill said as she patted the cushion.

I tried to avoid ripping the paper as I used the step stool to climb up then sat nervously on the edge with my feet dangling down.

“I understand you’ve got a sore throat,” she said as she started to palpate under my jaw. “Hmm, your lymph nodes are indeed a bit swollen. That’s a sign of infection. Let’s have a look inside.”

She picked up a flashlight and tongue depressor and instructed me to open and say “aah” as she peered inside my mouth.

“Yes, your throat is definitely red. No wonder you’re in pain. There is a particularly virulent strain of strep going around these days, and I suspect you may have caught it. Let me get a swab right now so the lab can get started.”

Jill took a swab from the counter and rubbed it against the back of my throat, which elicited a momentary gag from me. She sealed the sample in a plastic bag.

Then came the words that I had been dreading.

“It looks like I’m going to need to do a full exam. Go ahead and strip down to your underpants while I take this back to the lab.” Turning to Katie, Jill continued, “Our protocol requires a parent or guardian to be present for exams. Mrs. Williams already gave her consent by phone, so would you mind staying?”

Katie immediately (and in my opinion a bit too readily) agreed to the request. Before I could start to argue that I was 18 years old now, Jill had disappeared into the hall, shutting the door behind her. Paralyzed by a combination of fear and embarrassment as it dawned on me what was happening, I remained seated on the exam table.

“Don’t worry, Kiddo. I’ve been to plenty of exams with Ben,” Katie said cheerfully as she got up. “Come on, you need to get ready.”

Reluctantly, I hopped down and began to strip, starting with my shoes and socks, then my sweater and t-shirt. As I finished with each article of clothing, Katie would take it, fold it, and add it to a neat pile on the chair next to wear she had been sitting. Leaving my pants for last, I turned away from her and slipped them down then off, leaving me clad in just my tight white briefs and regretting that I hadn’t thought to wear boxer shorts.

As I hopped back up onto the exam table and sat again on the edge, I realized with some apprehension that Katie would have a clear view of the exam from her seat. I was pretty normally built, so didn’t have any “body issues” per se. It was more the fact that she was able to see me in such a submissive situation. I tried to take comfort from the fact that I was able to keep my underpants, so in a way it would be just like being at the pool. However, when it occurred to me that, while she was seated, her face was at the same level as my briefs, I started to get some uncomfortable stirrings.

At that moment, the door opened, and Jill reappeared. She seemed pleased that I was already undressed and on the exam table.

“Good, let’s get started with your vitals,” she said.

Jill took hold of my wrist and held it silently as she looked at her watch for about 30 seconds.

“Your pulse is a bit on the high side,” she said matter-of-factly. That wasn’t of course a surprise to me, given that I was now practically naked in front of these two rather attractive women. And as I glanced again over at the countertop, I got a fresh sense of dread of what was potentially in store for me.

Blood pressure came next. Jill lifted my right hand and lodged it in the crux of her arm as she wrapped and then inflated the cuff. This innocent gesture had the unfortunate effect of pressing the palm of my hand against the left side of her breast, which was firm and warm under her smiley shirt. Try as I did to stop thinking of it, the feeling of her breast became lodged in my brain, and I immediately got an erection. Looking out the corner of my eye, I noted that Katie was staring at my swelling briefs, which only served to accentuate my predicament. It shouldn’t be a surprise that my blood pressure was also slightly elevated.

I was relieved when Jill pulled the stethoscope from around her neck and inserted the earpieces, since I figured it meant she wouldn’t be taking my temperature. She proceeded to auscultate me. The cold diaphragm gave me goose bumps as she moved it around different parts of my chest. She then came a step closer and reached behind me to listen to my lungs. Her breast pressed against my arm as she asked me to take a deep breath and hold it. She repeated the process several times, and the warm feeling of her body against mine started putting more funny ideas into my 18-year-old mind. Finally, she seemed satisfied with the result and removed the stethoscope from her ears.

Next came something that I wasn’t at all expecting.

“Your mom told me over the phone that she took your temperature in your rectum this morning,” Jill said.

I felt like the whole world came crashing down around me. How could Mom have divulged something so personal to a stranger? And how could Jill just blurt that out in front of Katie? My neighbor, on whom I’d had a crush for the past 5 years, now knew that I was treated like a little boy at home! She seemed to have the same smirk I remembered from Liz’s face when I was younger. My own face must have turned several shades of pink, I was so humiliated. At the same time, the pressure inside my briefs suddenly multiplied, and I was caught between two seemingly irreconcilable emotions of shame and excitement. It was about to get worse.

“Since that’s your baseline,” Jill continued unperturbed, “I’m going to need to also get a rectal reading. Go ahead and take off your underpants and lie down on your tummy for me,” she said as she donned a pair of latex gloves, grabbed a thermometer from the “R” jar and started shaking it down. When I protested that I was old enough to get an oral reading, she just smiled and said, “It will only take 5 minutes.”

I was too stunned to be able reply coherently. All I could seem to do was get down from the exam table and slide off my briefs while trying desperately to hide my now-obvious erection. Katie smiled as she gently took my last piece of clothing and laid it on top of the previously created pile. I climbed back up and lay down on my stomach with my feet pointing toward the door. The weight of my body pressed my penis firmly into the crinkly paper as I watched Jill and waited expectantly for the now inevitable penetration. Instead of sitting back down, Katie moved to the other side of the exam table so that she was standing just next to me and opposite the work counter.

Jill squeezed a dollop of Vaseline onto a tissue and applied it to the tip of the thermometer, just as Mom had done earlier. She then turned around to face me as I lay prone on the exam table, holding the lubricated thermometer in her hand.

“OK, Luke, this won’t hurt, but it might feel a bit cold at first.”

As Katie looked on, Jill gently spread my buttocks apart. There was the now familiar rush of cool air as my anus was exposed. Then, without warning, I felt the cold thermometer plunge inside until it was deep within my rectum. I must have let out a little moan because Jill asked if she was hurting me, to which I squeaked a pathetic “no”. My penis seemed to harden even more.

Jill held the thermometer in place with two fingers and explained to Katie that they recommended rectal temperatures on smaller kids, especially if illness was suspected.

“Most older kids prefer oral thermometers, since rectal readings are more invasive,” she continued. “But the rectal route is still more accurate at any age, so it’s preferable as long as the patient doesn’t mind.” With that, she gave my butt a friendly little pat. “In any event,” she continued, “the most important thing is to remain consistent with the baseline in order to properly track the progress of the fever during the day.”

I couldn’t see their faces given my position, but something told me they were smiling at each other. I felt utterly humiliated hearing them talking as if I wasn’t even there.

The five minutes were finally up. Jill removed the thermometer from between my cheeks and wiped it. Holding it up, she announced that my fever had increased slightly from when Mom had taken it, to 102.5. She rinsed the thermometer under cold water and replaced it in the “R” jar on the counter. I was relieved that it was over, but increasingly worried about my erection, which hadn’t abated since the start of the procedure.

Jill removed the stethoscope from around her neck and made another dreaded announcement. “OK, Luke, I need you to roll over onto your back now so I can finish examining you.”

“Is that really necessary?” I managed to peep, hoping beyond hope that I could just stay as I was until my body calmed down.

“Yep, I need to examine your abdomen. I also want to check out the rest of your lymph nodes,” Jill responded authoritatively.

Reluctantly, I turned over onto my back as the paper made crinkly noises. There was a small wet spot where my penis had been. I tried to cover it as quickly as possible, but both women probably got a glimpse of it. I was now naked on my back, with Jill and Katie on either side of the exam table, and my erect penis on full display. I wished I could have just disappeared. Katie’s face had turned a slight shade of pink as she stared at my penis, and I could see her nipples poking discreetly through her polo shirt. That, of course, only made things worse.

Jill remained totally professional, moving the diaphragm of the stethoscope around my abdomen, and ignoring the agitation below. She then palpated me in different places, asking each time if it hurt. Katie’s eyes followed the moves of the exam but seemed to dart furtively back to my penis every few seconds. Finally, Jill palpated under my arms checking the lymph nodes, then she did the same around my crotch. Knowing that both women’s eyes were fixated on the area between my legs, I tried with all my might to will down my erection, but to no avail.

At last, Jill finished the exam and made some notes to my chart. She instructed me to stay put while she retrieved the lab results. After she left, there was a moment of awkward silence, with Katie standing next to me as I lay naked on the exam table. She was still visibly aroused but did her best to put on a “mom” look of sympathetic caring. I resented a bit her for that but was also strangely glad to have her there.

After a while, the door opened, and Jill re-entered the exam room carrying an ominous kidney-shaped tray, which she put down on the counter.

“The test came back positive for strep, so I’m afraid I need to administer some penicillin before I let you go,” Jill announced. “Why don’t you get back onto your tummy for me.”

As she prepared the injection, I turned back over, feeling the squish of Vaseline that was left over from the temperature measurement and dreading what was to come. Katie took hold of my hand to reassure me, a gesture that both comforted and troubled me. I winced as the needle poked my right buttock and the serum was pushed inside, doing my best to stifle a rather embarrassing tear.

“There. All done!” Jill announced after she had withdrawn the syringe. “You did great! Go ahead and get dressed. I’ll write out a prescription for a stronger antipyretic to help you feel better.” I thought I noticed a momentary exchange of glances between the two women when she said that and wondered what it might signify.

Then turning back to me, Jill said, “You should drink lots of liquids and take your temperature every four hours for the next two days. If it spikes above 103, or isn’t back to normal in two days, call us immediately.”

Once I had all my clothes back on, Katie and I headed to the check-out desk, where she had a short conversation with the nurse behind the counter and took a slip of paper. I followed her outside.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asked in a sweet voice after we got into the car.

“I guess,” was all I could mumble.

“Well, you were very brave. And I think it’s kind of cute that your mom still uses the baby thermometer,” Katie said with a smile.

My face turned beet red again, and I didn’t know what to say. The rest of the trip passed in silence.

When we got home, Katie accompanied me inside and insisted that I get into bed to rest. She said she would go to the pharmacy to pick up my prescription and promised to come by a bit later to check in on me. I could hear her go into the master bathroom and open several cabinets before she finally headed out the front door. I collapsed in my bed, and it wasn’t long before I drifted off to sleep.