A Soul Laid Bare
After getting me all taped up and ready to go, Corey started the saline drip. He rolled his stool around to my right side, allowing us to have a conversation without my private parts being the center of our attention.
“This is the easy part of the test,” he said with a grin. “And after ah, let me see, dang! 45 minutes, I think we deserve to relax a bit. I also think we’re going to go over our allotted 90 minutes, but if you didn’t pick up on it from earlier, you’re my only reason for being here today, so I’m good. How about you?” Corey winked.
What did that mean? I decided to file it away for later and shrugged. “Everyone on my team and my manager told me they’d be very upset if they saw me again before Monday. I think they were trying to be sweet.”
“Of course they were.” Corey’s voice softened with a sincerity that caught me off guard. “They obviously care about you. And we don’t need to rush. This room is always booked in four-hour increments so facilities will have plenty of time for clean-up, even when a test goes long. So, we’re golden. Okay?
He leaned forward, his tone turning professional again. “Here’s all I need you to do. It’s really simple: First, let me know the moment you feel the tiniest inkling of just thinking about needing to pee. Second, tell me when you’d start seriously looking for a gas station or rest stop if you were on a road trip. And third, let me know when you absolutely can’t hold it anymore - within reason, of course. Other than that, your only job is to just chill.” He ended with another mischievous grin.
Chill? Sure. Totally. I’ll just chillax right here! I was stark naked, splayed out in what I now knew was dangerously close to “The Birthing Position.” I had a probe up my butt, tape on my “taint” and penis; and a catheter slowly filling my bladder full of saline. All with my fantasy man seated right next to me, acting all casual like this was the most normal thing ever. Oh, and bonus points: I was also desperately trying to figure out how to get him to repeat all the “fun” parts of the test.
Once again, Corey pulled me out of my head as he said - and I swear - “I’m guessing you’re the kind of guy who has an inner monologue going all the time. Am I right?”
I blinked and looked at him in stunned amazement, caught completely off guard. A nervous laugh escaped before I replied, “Your mind-reading skills are really starting to freak me out.” We both chuckled, my tension eased slightly. I continued, “Yeah, but my inner monologue is being written by a noob who has no idea how to keep his thoughts straight or figure out where the story is going.”
Corey raised an eyebrow, his lips transforming into his smirk that I was quickly learning to love. “Believe me, that’s most of us. You’re doing so much better than you think,” he said, his voice kind but firm. “I mean, you’ve got to be under a lot of stress and have so many, well, unresolved emotions.”
He didn’t push further, though. Instead, he leaned back slightly, giving me space, and shifted the conversation. “But before we talk about any of that, I’m really curious: how does a 19-year-old land a job at a big company? A 19-year-old, who I’m assuming, hasn’t graduated college yet?”
I appreciated the pivot, grateful for the chance to focus on something I actually liked talking about. If I didn’t think too hard about my artificially erect mummy dick, this almost felt like just chatting with a coworker. “I’m a co-op student,” I began, feeling even more at ease. “Most people are more familiar with interns, but there are some big differences. For one, co-ops start working after completing their first year of school and will have multiple semesters with their co-op company - interleaved with school semesters. And here’s a big bonus! Co-op students are full-time employees while we’re working, with all the benefits.”
Corey nodded along, genuinely interested, and it encouraged me to keep going. “I think co-op students are most common in technical fields, like mechanical or electrical engineering. And me, I’m in software development - or at least, I hope to be. The big upside is that I’ll graduate with over a year’s worth of real-world experience. The downside? I’ll graduate a year later than my peers. But honestly, I’m having such a great time, I don’t care.”
“That’s so cool! So, you’re just here for the semester? Like, from January until, uh, sometime in May? Then you head back to school for the summer?” Corey asked, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows with genuine curiosity.
“Nope,” I replied, shaking my head. “I always seem to be a special case. Though, honestly, you’re the only person who knows the whole story. I’m staying here until the start of the fall semester in September. Officially, it’s because some key courses I need aren’t being offered during the summer term.”
“And unofficially?” Corey’s tone sharpened; his attention locked on me.
“Unofficially, since my parents cut me off, I need to save up more money,” I admitted with a small shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m lucky to have a nearly full-ride scholarship, but I still need to pay for a place to sleep, food, and, of course, textbooks. Talk about an institutionalized monopoly.”
Corey let out a low groan. “Course books were expensive when I was in college - which wasn’t even that long ago. But I can only imagine how much worse it’s gotten.” He paused, his gaze sincere and concerned. “Do you think you’ll have enough to make it?”
“I’m going to try,” I said with a determined nod. “The problem is, since I’m on a big scholarship, I can’t just apply for a campus job. This is dumb, but my earnings would just reduce my scholarship and take away the opportunity for someone without scholarships to earn the money instead. It’s weird, but I guess I see their point. Anyway, I’m getting pretty good at finding creative ways to cut my spending.”
Corey raised an intrigued eyebrow, “Like how?”
“Well, like…” I started with a grin, “opportunistic part-time jobs off-campus. I mentioned the LA Fitness near where I work, right? I’m not qualified to be a trainer or anything, but I can be a gofer and, well, a janitor - junior grade,” I added with a chuckle. “And the best part! I get to work out and shower any time I want. More money, free workouts. Win-win!”
“Ollie, my boy, you’re one impressively resourceful pup. But why is showering so important? I mean, aside from keeping your wonderfully aromatic pits in check for a professional setting?”
I gulped. Did he mean anything by that question other than just keeping the conversation going? I stammered on, “Well, since the gym’s close to work, it’s easy to squeeze in an early workout before heading to the office.”
Suddenly realizing I had an advantage, I replied, “But, wait... um, you like my pits? Is that what you just said?”
Corey’s grin widened into the biggest mischievous smirk I’d ever seen - I loved it. “Hey, you’re the guy who just got hard when I taped a probe up his butthole. So, let’s not kink-shame me.” That broke any remaining tension; we both burst into laughter.
“Alright,” he started, still chuckling, “I’ll admit, it might be a mostly gay male thing, but yeah - some of us appreciate the musk of a hot boy’s curly blond pits. And yours? Well, they’re absolutely man-candy material. Furry, fragrant, with just the right balance of ‘woof’ and ‘mmm.’”
That made me laugh so hard I almost, almost, raised my arms over my head, just for him. But Corey wasn’t finished.
“It’s a very personal thing, though,” he continued, tilting his head as if explaining a nuanced art form. “Even if you like a good pit scent, you probably won’t like every man’s. Oh, and even then, there’s a big difference between ‘sexy pit scent’ or ‘post workout bliss’ and well, ‘stressed-out pit odor’ or ‘dude, you need a shower.’
“With all the times I’ve gotten you excited this morning; you got that sexy pit scent thang goin’ on.” He said with a hokey affectation. “Hey, it’s just your body reacting to my rubber hammer.” He winked. “And for the record, I like it. You kinda smell like you could be my little brother.”
I must have had a deer-in-the-headlights look again because Corey leaned back in and said, “Did I hit a truth or two you’re just now realizing?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his uncanny accuracy. “Okay, how do you do that?”
He grinned. “You’re a wonderful baby gay, Ollie. Meanwhile, I’ve been practicing for a while.”
I blinked at him, utterly caught off guard.
He immediately noticed my reaction. “Whoa, wait. I didn’t expect to get a second ‘I feel seen’ look from you. What did I do this time?”
Yes! A win! I couldn’t resist teasing him. “Wait - you mean there’s actually a look I’ve got that you can’t immediately figure out?” I gave him my most triumphant grin. “Before I explain… Seriously, is it really okay for me to talk about all this? I always thought it was just… me.”
“Yes! Please, Ollie. Go for it. Just don’t forget to keep me updated on how your bladder’s doing, okay?”
“Oh. Wow, now that you mention it, I can feel something. But it’s weird - like, more in my… uh, dick head? Does that count?”
Corey chuckled softly, his expression both kind and professional. “Yes, it does. That’s exactly what we’re looking for. Now, what were you about to admit?”
I hesitated for a moment, then decided to just go for it. “Well… I’ve never said this to anyone before. But I, um… I loved the way my father’s pits smelled when he came home from work. It was comforting, you know? They smelled manly and strong and, well… like him. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but when you hugged me earlier, I realized you smell a lot like he did.”
Corey’s face softened into the warmest, most understanding smile. “Hey, buddy, how could I take that the wrong way? That’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time.” His grin widened as he added, “When I said you might smell like my brother, I meant the exact same thing in reverse. It’s all good. Go on.”
“And, I know this sounds like a total lie now - especially after, well, you having to shave me and all - but I was actually one of the last guys in my class to hit puberty. I’ve only been really furry for a few years now. I didn’t have pubes or hair anywhere except my head until I was almost fifteen. Even my pediatrician was starting to worry.
“Honestly, I wasn’t too embarrassed about it since I was already big and tall for my age. But I started obsessing over my classmates’ and teammates’ hair in the locker room. Especially their pits. To me, having pit hair meant you weren’t just a kid anymore. And… I guess it’s still a thing for me. Even now, after finally getting all the pit hair I could’ve ever dreamed of.”
Corey grinned, a look of recognition sparked in his eyes. “Dayam, you really are my boy! I’m telling you; pit hair is the only socially acceptable kind of pubes a guy can show off in public. It’s basically a badge of honor. So, yeah, I guess we’re both sharing the same little kink.” He gave me another teasing smirk. “But what did I say that made you give me that second ‘I feel seen’ look?”
“Oh, this is a bit more, um, hard-core, is that okay?”
“Ollie, of course it is. As long as it’s alright with you.”
I hesitated but found myself trusting Corey. “So, when I was 12, and still totally hairless - duh, I spent a summer week with my 15-year-old cousin. He was so not hairless. His bush and well, his more mature endowment, totally enthralled me. I was obsessed. I tried to see him naked as much as possible the whole time we were together.
Corey nodded, his expression understanding and encouraging.
“And finally, because he was enjoying my hero worship, he, well, not only let me look at and touch everything I wanted to, he decided to show me what big boys can do with their dicks. I just stood there and watched him jack off. When he came, I was a bit, ah, scared, I guess? But he explained how awesome it felt and that I would be able to do the same thing really soon and then I’d understand.
“Given I’d also expressed interest in all things butt related, he added that a really cool thing he and his friend did, was what he called practicing. In his words: ‘Well, it’s like practicing for real sex with a girl. We take turns putting our dicks up each other’s butt. And the wild part is, having their dick in your butt, feels just as good as putting your dick in theirs.’
“That completely blew my 12-year-old brain. And I instantly realized I wanted to be practiced on. But, not to prepare for having ‘real sex with a girl.’ I knew I wanted to just be with another boy forever.”
Corey gave me a knowing look, his tone tender. “And that’s when you started figuring things out?”
“Yeah, I’m definitely condensing my realization, but that’s when I knew I was probably gay.”
Corey’s smile deepened. “Buddy, when you decide to open up, you go all out. I’m honored you shared that with me. Did you ever get to, er, practice with anyone?”
I instantly returned to my new-normal blushed state, “Ah, no. I just got to the mutual masturbation stage with a couple friends. I was never brave enough to push for more. And well, I never felt like they wanted to as much as I did.”
“Hey, that’s fine. At least you got to get naked with a friend or two for fun. How’s the bladder?” He asked, his tone light but with a professional undercurrent, effortlessly slipping back into nurse-mode.
I took a moment and checked in with my body. “I’m really close to looking for that gas station or rest stop. But it’s more like only just thinking about it.”
Corey glanced at the saline bag; its slow drip was gently emptying into my body. He nodded, seemingly satisfied that everything was progressing as expected. It was so strange - I couldn’t physically feel the water flowing in through what should definitely be an “out hole.” It just felt like a slow, natural buildup of needing to pee.
He gave me a new look: concerned, kind, and patient. “So… do you want to talk about your parents? I totally understand if you don’t.”
My gaze dropped back to my exposed crotch, as if searching for courage in the vulnerability of the moment. I let out a deep breath, shoulders sagging slightly. “No guarantees, but I can try. If you really want to hear it.”
Corey leaned forward once again, his voice softening. “Hey, remember, we’re best friends for the duration. No pressure, just an open invitation. I’d love to know more, if it feels right for you to share.”
I glanced up into his genuinely concerned eyes and decided to continue. “So, my mom is great, but I’ve always been super close with my father. Sure, most boys think their dads are their super-heroes when they’re kids, but with us, that feeling never really changed. I always thought of him as my best friend.
"When I started worrying about how all my friends had already gotten ‘hair down there,’ and I hadn’t, I wasn’t embarrassed to talk to him about it. He just listened, assured me that I was my own normal, and helped me wait it out. When my turn finally came, he supported me all through puberty.
“The funny part is, once I finally started getting hair, he gave me this whole big speech: ‘Oliver, if you ever start feeling uncomfortable hugging me, it’s okay. We can switch to shaking hands instead.’ I immediately rejected his offer and hugged him harder than I ever had before and swore that nothing would ever make me not want to do that. I loved him. I couldn’t imagine that changing.
“Of course, we had our differences. He loved watching my football games, but he always warned me not to let it interfere with my grades. He’s a very devout church man, but after weeks of long debates, he eventually accepted that I’m not. And, he never questioned why I didn’t date. He just appreciated my hard work - both academically and on the field.
“So, when I started thinking about telling him I’m gay, it didn’t even cross my mind that he wouldn’t accept it. I figured he and Mom probably already knew. Even I thought it was pretty obvious by that time.” I flashed a quick smile to Corey, “I mean, you pretty much instantly figured it out.”
My smile vanished just as quickly, replaced by reflective regret. “I let myself believe that telling them would lead to one of those heartfelt, affirming Family Hug of Acceptance moments, like I’d seen on TV.
“But, um.” I stumbled, “I was an idiot. I was totally blindsided by their reaction. It was all so sudden and severe; it knocked the ground out from under me. There were no questions. No ‘we still love you.’ Just…” my voice cracked, “well, what I told you before: ‘Here’s what we’re giving you. Now get out of our house by tomorrow morning.’”
“I uttered two, simple, desperate words: ‘But Father?’” I took a shaky breath, the memory still cutting deep. “Then he hit me. He backhanded me hard enough to knock me to the floor. My nose even started bleeding. I was so shocked, I couldn’t even cry. My father had never ever even spanked me before. Not once. I was in total denial that this could really be happening. It was like my whole world had been shattered in an instant.”
I paused, my voice trembling. “I numbly packed my clothes and some personal stuff and shoved everything into my Bronco. I left before the sun was completely up. No one came out to stop me. No one came to say goodbye. I felt like I was comatose - just sleepwalking through the motions.
“It wasn’t until two or three hours later that it all finally hit me. I suddenly had to pull over on the freeway shoulder and throw up. Everything came crashing down at once. But even then, I still couldn’t cry. Not really. I had too much to face ahead of me.”
I made the mistake of looking up at Corey’s eyes. They were glistening, his expression was full of so much empathy it made my chest ache. That was it. My dam had finally broken. I started sobbing, hyperventilating, ugly crying in a way I hadn’t since... well, then. Corey didn’t hesitate. He pulled me over into his arms, holding me like I might break apart if he let go.
And I let him. I buried my face in his scrubs, soaking them with my tears. He didn’t say anything, just held me for so many, wonderful, long minutes, like he knew that was exactly what I needed.
I finally started to calm down. Until…
“Corey! Stop!” I guess that seemed to be my go-to phrase around him. It was ironic because I had never once actually wanted him to stop anything he was doing.
He pulled back slightly, concern written all over his face. My pained smile returned him to the present. “I’ll need you to finish that hug later,” I uttered, embarrassed but desperate, “but right now, my bladder is about to burst. I’m seriously about to pee myself again.”
Corey’s lips twitched with a gentle smile as he brushed his fingers along my blond baby beard. “Got it, my bad. And…” He gave a playful wince. “I think I’ve lost count. Okay, I’m going to stop the flow, and we need to get back to the test.”
His touch, his tone - everything about him - made me feel like I wasn’t just a bundle of nerves and embarrassment anymore. I was starting to feel… safe.
Chapter 10: Broken Trust
I was right on the edge of hurting, and Corey could tell. “Alright, Ollie, I know you’re totally full, but we need to knock out two final quick things first. They’re easy, I promise. You’re an athlete, so you’ve heard this before. Turn your head to the left and cough. I’ll be watching for any leakage. Go ahead.”
I did as he instructed and was sure I leaked. Corey gave a small nod, confirming what I already knew. I instinctively started to turn my head the other way, and before he could say anything, I coughed again.
His eyes lit up with a playful glint. “Look at you, reading my mind now.”
Despite the pressure building in my bladder, I couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of satisfaction at his approval.
“Alright Ollie, we’re in the home stretch,” Corey said, his tone reassuring. “But once again, I’ve got a new sensation for you to process. The catheter in your penis is thin enough that you’ll be able to urinate around it. If I did my job right - and trust me, I always do - you can just pee in your current position and everything will flow into the funnel and down into the measuring container. You just need to relax and let it happen.”
He paused; his expression still caring. “I know you’re not pee shy, but this time I’m going to give you some privacy. I’ll turn the faucet on for inspiration and step out for a few minutes to take care of some administrative items. I also know this is an awkward break in our conversation, are you going to be okay?”
There he was again, making sure I was more than just physically fine. It was like he could see through every layer of me, down to where I was feeling raw, terrified and alone.
I nodded, maybe too quickly. “Seriously, I’ll be fine. So, I just need to sit here and pee, right? I can handle that. I promise.”
He smiled; his warm, effortless smile made me feel safe in ways I hadn’t realized I could feel anymore. Corey turned the faucet on, the sound of rushing water filling the room, and then he slipped out, leaving me alone with my thoughts and, well, my assignment.
For a moment, the aloneness felt too heavy again. I let out a shaky breath and maybe, a tear or two slipped out before I could stop them. But once more, I pulled myself together. I had a job to do, and for once, it wasn’t even anything overwhelming or confusing. It was simple. I closed my eyes, focused on the sound of the running water, and did my best to let everything flow out of my body.
To my surprise - and immense relief - I didn’t get that dreaded, embarrassing warm feeling of urine trickling down across my balls and through my crack. Instead, I heard the distinct sound of liquid dripping into the plastic container. Success! I kept focusing on relaxing as much as possible, just letting the flow take over. But it stopped way sooner than I hoped.
Come on… I’d just gone through thirty minutes of being filled with saline while baring my soul to Corey, and it only took like fifteen seconds to drain? That can’t be right. Er, right?
Determined to make it work, I tried pushing hard. Nothing. I flexed my “taint” muscles - and, let’s be honest, "taint" has become my new favorite word - but still no luck. I even hesitated, wondering if I might mess up the sensors if I tried any harder. But I knew my pressure to urinate wasn’t gone. It felt like there was a lot more left - refusing to come out. But I guess my body was finished.
Before I could spiral down into a full-blown panic attack, Corey walked back into the room with his usual calm energy. “So?” he asked with a playful smirk. “Everything come out okay?” He barely paused before adding, “Sorry, occupational humor.”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, feeling another wave of anxiety creep up. “I think I’m done, but I might’ve tried too hard and... I’m worried I messed up the sensors or something.”
“No worries Ollie. That’s exactly why the sensors are in those places your body never wanted them to be. Well,” he added with a mischievous grin as he lightly tapped the anal probe, “except maybe this one.” My nearly strangled dick gave the slightest, traitorous twitch.
He laughed softly at my obvious embarrassment and leaned back slightly. “Ollie, you are so many things. First off, you’re definitely my favorite patient. Probably ever. You’re honest, sincere, resourceful, and strong. And, unfortunately, you’re also very consistent.”
I blinked, unsure where this was going.
Corey glanced at the container and back at me, his tone professional again. “I know how much saline went into your bladder, and I know how much you just managed to expel on your own. The amounts are almost identical to the numbers you gave me at the start.”
The weight of his words settled in, and I couldn’t help but take it as a failure. My stomach sank, my chest tightened, and I felt the newly familiar sting of disappointment bubbling up. I’ve never been good at dealing with failure, and I was clearly losing this battle now too.
Of course, Corey saw it all written on my face - I guessed that’s his super-power. His voice gentled even more as he leaned closer. “No, Ollie, listen to me. This isn’t a failure. It’s not even about failing or passing. It just means there’s something preventing your bladder from emptying the way it should. That’s what we’re here to figure out, together. You haven’t failed anything.”
I wanted to believe him. I really did. But the words felt hollow, like they weren’t meant for my personality type. Until Corey continued.
“This test is going to give your doctor a lot of important information,” he said, his tone shifting back into nurse mode. “And all we want it to do is confirm that everything is perfectly fine with your bladder, pelvic muscles, prostate - the whole shebang. But…” He paused, and there it was: his reassuring smile, sadly sliding into a remorseful shrug. “I’m definitely going to have to do that second in-and-out cath I mentioned. And we know that’s not exactly a new sensation for you at this point.”
I sighed. “Can’t wait,” I said dryly.
His mischievous smile made a slight comeback, “Hold on, buddy, because first…” He paused dramatically, raising up a small bottle of liquid like it was some kind of holy relic. “I have to do some new, very mean, things that I kiiinda sooorta forgot to mention earlier. If they’re too bad, I’ll let you punch me.”
“How generous of you,” I muttered, already dreading whatever was coming.
Corey’s grin remained unfazed. “So, you know how it feels when you rip a band-aid off? Now imagine that - times ten. All your areas that I’ve had to tape up? Well, they’re super sensitive. Removing the tape is going to be… memorable.”
My sudden trust in this man may have just lost some traction. “Can’t we just leave it on and let it… I don’t know, wear off naturally? Hey, I could maybe start a new fashion trend.”
Corey chuckled, appreciating my half-hearted joke. “As tempting as that is, nope. But! If you promise not to hit me, I’ve got this near-magical tape glue solvent that makes it about ten times easier. So that puts us back to nearly even. Sound fair?”
“Do I have a choice?” I snarked, shrugging in reluctant acceptance.
“Great!” Corey said cheerfully, clearly ignoring my resignation. “Let’s start with the bottom first.”
I suddenly felt the sensation I’d been dreading while trying my best to pee around the catheter earlier. My butt was getting wet. Then came a gentle tugging sensation. Like all the strange things Corey had done to my bottom today, it was weirdly… not unpleasant. I even kind of liked it - again.
Corey started a play-by-play. “Okay, that’s most of the tape. Now for the electrodes… done. And finally, for the probe. Going… going… out!”
Wait. Is it bad that I missed the feeling of it being inside me? No time to overthink because Corey was already moving on.
“Sorry Ollie. That was the easy part. Now for the serious part,” he said with a faint, apologetic smile. “You’ve got two options: put your arms over your head - which you know is my preference - or grip the chair edge. But you need to pick one.”
I hesitated, then decided to make him happy. Raising my arms felt like an act of surrender, but if it made this easier, I’d do it. Corey smiled, and for a second, I let myself smile back. Until…
His first tug on the tape sent a penetrating, sickening pain radiating from my dick, through my balls, and up into my gut. I sucked in a sharp breath and yelped.
“I know, Ollie. I’m so sorry,” Corey said, his tone soft but firm. “I have to keep going. Just grab the top of the chair if it gets to be too much.”
Frak! This hurt like nothing I had ever experienced before. Corey needed to get his hands away from my dick - now! I was seconds from telling him that I’d handle it myself when he did the most non sequitur thing imaginable. He leaned forward, pressed his face into my right pit, sniffed it, and then - wait - was that a kiss? Or a lick? My brain short-circuited again.
Forget the pain. Forget everything. My world zeroed in on the surreal, electric sensation of having Corey’s face in my pit. For one fleeting moment, everything in my world felt… perfect. Like my whole universe had just snapped into place.
But then he leaned back, looking sheepish, holding up a wad of wet tape and the catheter like they were trophies. “See? All done. The tape’s off, and the catheter sensor is out. I knew that would distract you.” He smiled, but with a guilty flicker in his eye I didn’t understand. “You can still punch me in the shoulder if you want to.” He added unnecessarily.
My euphoric haze shattered. My head spun with confusion, embarrassment, and something I couldn’t name. I just sat there, staring at him, utterly at a loss for words.
Corey’s smile faltered. “Was that too much? I thought we were at a point where we could handle a little off-script distraction during a painful moment. Did I mess up?”
My mouth was dry, my thoughts were a tangled mess. I finally managed to mumble, “Uh, no. It helped… I think? Exactly like you… um, intended, I guess.” My voice wavered. “Do you… normally do that with your patients?”
He laughed, but it sounded forced. “No, Ollie. I just thought it was appropriate for our situation.” He hesitated, then added, “Though I’ve been known to pinch a nipple before.”
I didn’t laugh. My mind was still stuck on figuring out if this was all just a scripted trick to get me though his test.
Corey cleared his throat, his tone back to his most professional. “Look, it’s all about building trust and understanding during this long, emotional, and yes, embarrassing test. I wouldn’t have done that with anyone else. Are we still okay? Because we’ve got one last thing to do, Are you ready?”
His words hung in the air, waiting. I couldn’t answer yet. I wasn’t even sure how I felt.
Chapter 11: All That I Have
Damn. Why did Corey suddenly sound so professional and weirdly aloof? Did he really just kiss my pit onlybecause he knew it would work as my perfect distraction? Was I letting myself imagine way too much? Everyone warned me about this test being “intimate and exposed.” I seemed to keep understanding what that means on whole new levels, like, well, every 20 minutes.
“I see you writing your inner monologue again.” Corey’s voice was softer now, but pensive. “Don’t write an ending yet. We’re still here. We still have more to do. Are you still with me?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, unable to keep a hint of sarcasm from creeping in. I regretted it instantly, but the words were already out.
Corey’s face fell, just slightly. “Ollie, that’s not what I meant. I swear, I’m not playing you. I’m trying my best to help you through this. I promise.”
The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard, but my embarrassment was still bubbling under the surface. “Okay,” I muttered, quieter this time. “I’m sorry. I really am. I just… didn’t expect any of this today.”
Corey’s gaze shifted; his expression unreadable. Then he said, almost too quietly, “Believe me, Ollie, I didn’t either.”
Nonplussed again. Damn it.
I let a shaky breath out, nodding as I relaxed just a little. “Yeah,” I said, my voice steadier now. “I’m ready.”
Corey studied me for a moment, then gave a slight nod, his expression changing into something I couldn’t quite place. “Okay, my man. Once more into the fire.”
I couldn’t help but cringe at the phrase, but to Corey’s credit, I really did know what to expect. And maybe, just maybe, it didn’t hurt as badly this time. Or maybe I was just a little numb.
****
After my bladder had been drained, I thought I was done. I figured all the fun parts, the awkward parts, and the painful parts were over. I was sure I’d accidentally made us both end on a dour note. But Corey wasn’t finished.
“My brave Ollie,” he began, his voice steady but more solemn than before. “Remember back at the start, when I told you there might be one last surprise? But only if I felt it was warranted?”
I nodded; my curiosity piqued despite myself.
“Well,” he continued, “please trust me one last time - it is warranted. Under typical circumstances, I’d tell my patient to go home and, well… masturbate as soon as possible. It serves two purposes: it flushes out everything the massage stirred up in your prostate, and after three catheters, it soothes your urethra. And yours definitely needs soothing.”
I blinked, unsure how to process what he was saying. Corey must’ve noticed my hesitation because he pressed on, his tone more persuasive now.
“Plus, my man, you’ve come so close to climaxing twice this morning, and you’ve got at least a 90-minute drive ahead of you. That’s blue balls just waiting to happen.” He gazed into my eyes, nothing mischievous about it this time. “So… will you let me help you, uh, relieve the pressure? I swear, Ollie, you need it.”
For once, I wasn’t shocked. I was too exhausted to be. Instead, I just gave him a wry smile and replied, “Nah, I’m good.”
And I started to get up.
But Corey gently placed his hand on my chest, stopping me before I could fully rise. “Ollie, please trust me,” he said softly. “I’ve only been trying to learn everything about you this morning because I like you and care about helping you - not to trick you or embarrass you. Please, don’t just leave like this.”
I let out a long sigh, my shoulders slumping under the weight of everything I’d been feeling. “Corey, I think I’ve said too much already. I’ve confessed things to you I’ve never told anyone else. And your explanation for kissing my pit made me feel a whole new level of exposed and embarrassed.” I paused; the words I wasn’t sure I wanted to say already forming in my mouth. “Because the truth is… I think I’ve started to fall for you. How stupid is that? It’s like I’ve regressed to some ridiculous tween-age crush.” I shook my head. “I just need to go. I need to be alone for a while. I’m sorry.”
Corey’s expression shifted; his warmth replaced with something stronger - a quiet determination. Before I could turn away, he gently cupped my cheeks with both his hands, the touch grounding me in place. He leaned forward until his inquisitive eyes locked with my heartbroken ones, not letting me escape.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, his voice steady but filled with an unshakable sincerity. “But… I only have one more question before you leave, and I need you to answer me honestly. Ollie… where exactly is your home?”
The breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded. How did he know? How could he see through me so completely, when I’d spent months hiding this from everyone? My defenses crumbled under the weight of his question, and for the second time today, I broke down completely. Sobs wracked my chest, and I barely managed to choke out the truth.
“I live in my car!” I cried, my voice shaking with the rawness of my admission. “It’s all I have!”
To Be Concluded...
