Anticipation of getting your temperature taken rectally

If I was told the night before that I was going to visit the doctor the next day, and if I wasn’t sick already, I soon would be from the anxiety of knowing my rectal temperature was going to be taken in the very near future.

The drive to the clinic next day was absolutely excruciating. The smell when the clinic door opened hit me in the nose like a punch from a bully.

Oddly enough, the very moment the thermometer was planted in my bottom was the moment I would start to relax, no matter what other possible humiliating things may have still been in store for me.

My early relationship with the rectal thermometer was a true hate/love relationship. I had little choice in my development of this odd little medical fetish.

“I wonder which nurse you will have tomorrow?” from my mother, and “let’s get those pants off and get a temp on you,” from the nurse, felt like my death sentence announcements.

The anticipation is a very big turn on but the spreading of my cheeks and the thermometer sliding in for 3 to 5 minutes is heaven. Also depends on the position can be a greater turn on. The exposure is a plus when you give up control.

I got it taken that way until I went to college. If I didnt feel well mom said to go to my room and lay on the bed dad would be up in a few minutes.. He came in with the thermometer and vasaline and said pull down your pants son lets see if you have a fever. Felt the cheeks open and the vasaline then the thermometer. While it was in hed say if you have a fever well have to give you an enema to get you well. The anticipation of finding out if I had a fever was unbelievable while it was in me.

Being face down, bare and exposed waiting to feel your cheeks being parted and the cold slippery tip touching your bum hole. Not being able to see what's going on , always made me feel helpless and embarrassed. Wondering how long it was going to be before it was over

As soon as I in the exam room, the nurse came in, I remember her name was Jane. She looked very young. I was told by her to remove my pants and undies, and I knew she was going to take my Temperature rectally. I would watch her come over with the thermometer and the vaseline, and i would get very nervous and excited. She would have me get on the exam table and get on my tummy and then insert the lubed thermometer.

I have little/no memory of RT's before age 7 ('57) I'm sure it was done most likely in Otk fashion then. Temp taking at age 8-9 were 50/50 Otk or on my bed..me on my tummy. There might have been 1 final Otk version when I was 10.. not certain. The oral thermometer was used thereafter..I had no “fear & dread” of RT events vs. having to get a enema bag enema. I almost enjoyed it when the Dr.did it on a house call. He would thread the thermometer between his fingers to keep the thermometer in place and gently lay his hand across my butt.He had a really smooth hand and I had a very smooth butt. I generally dreaded anyone seeing me bare butt --but in that scenario I had no embarrassment at all.

I remember those awful mornings when my mom would tell me that I had a doctor’s appointment after school and I’d have butterflies in my stomach all day knowing my temperature would be taken rectally that afternoon. I usually walked home from school but when I had a doctor appointment my mom would pick me up and drive me there. I remember how anxiety-ridden I was during the drive over and would always ask my mom if she could tell the nurse to take my temperature orally. Having no mercy whatsoever she would insist that I do as I was told and obey the nurse. In the waiting room the anticipation grew even stronger as I sat silently until the nurse opened the door and loudly called my name. The anticipation continued to grow as the nurse instructed me to undress to my underwear then go into the hallway for the vision test (reading letters on chart), height and weight. Standing on the scale was the point where my anticipation was at it’s highest because I knew what was next. The nurses there had a similar script and would always announce temperature time the second I stepped off of the scale, “ok hun, c’mon back in lay down on your tummy for me, I’m gonna take your temperature now”. Right up until that moment I’d always held out hope for an oral temp but I knew full well those weren’t done laying on my stomach. By that point I was completely filled with dread as the time had finally come and there was no way out. The nurse closed the door behind her, picked up the thermometer and began shaking the mercury down with one hand and holding a tube of Surgilube in the other. Although she had told me to lay down I would always just sit on the exam table with my legs dangling, still hoping it was all just a bad dream or something. Right after squeezing some jelly onto the thermometer the nurse would always have to repeat herself again saying “ok hun, on your tummy now” and I would submit into the prone position, feeling the thin, smooth white paper under me. Then came those precious few seconds of anticipating the extremely vulnerable feeling of a woman dominantly lowering my underwear as mom sat and watched. At that moment I could seemingly feel every nerve ending in my anus go on high alert as I felt her warm fingers separating my buttocks followed by the slick, cold and unwelcome jolt of a thermometer passing through my anus and sphincter. The thermometer insertion was always far more jarring than I had remembered from the previous one and always startled me a bit. That smooth Surgilube jelly made the thermometer feel colder and a perhaps a bit larger than it really was. This was followed by another sort of jolt as the sure-handed nurse would quickly pull my underwear back up, audibly snapping the elastic waistband in the process. Then came the longest anticipation which was the five minutes of laying there with a thermometer in my bottom waiting for the nurse to return and subject me to the final humiliation of withdrawing and reading my temperature out loud. That anticipation was also very awkward since mom was my captive audience for several long, silent minutes. What I really hated about this point was that it still wasn’t over yet since I was still dreading the nurse once again lowering my underwear and seeing my naked bottom. I hated that part most because I always worried the thermometer would come out messy and I’d be even more embarrassed. I don’t recall it ever actually happening but the fear was always there! When the nurse eventually returned, the procedure always ended with a mix of humiliation and relief as she lowered my undies again and dislodged the thermometer with one quick yank. The thermometer withdrawal was even more startling than the insertion probably because it was done more quickly and with a bit less caution. All of those sensitive nerve endings in the anus can really cause quite a sensation. As a young boy, having my temperature taken rectally by a female nurse was a rather confusing jumble of feelings and emotions but the series of anticipations throughout the procedure made it even more titillating and erotic.