Implausible Humiliations Pt. 01

An Absurd Series of Humiliations that Would Never Happen

today, 8:30 am

“Knock, knock!”

Benjamin’s eyes sprung open under the running water of the shower and his head spun around. He watched in disbelief as his mother strolled into the apartment complex’s second-floor shared bathroom – the only place where, ironically, he should have any privacy whatsoever — with a happy wave. The door lock was like everything else in this building: cheap and unreliable.

He turned his back to her, almost pressing against the mildewed tile.“I’m in the shower!” he called over his shoulder.

Holly looked at her eighteen-year-old son – brown water falling down his backside into a wide open drain hole, with no door to block the view – and laughed. “No kidding!”

“What do you want?” Out of the corner of his eye he could see the bright daylight coming in, the door left ajar. “At least close the damn door!”

She rolled her eyes and tugged the door shut. “We gotta do the thing, from the doctor...” She noticed his clothes strewn everywhere and, shaking her head in annoyance, started to pick them up.

“Wait till I’m out!” he yelled again.

“Yeah, but-” she started.

“Just get out and we’ll do it later!”

“Okay, but we’re doing it before I leave, I don’t care,” she said with conviction. “And I’m running late, so hurry the hell up.”

“Then get out and let me finish!”

“Fine, I’m leaving!” she yelled back, and started out, taking only one more peek at him with a proud smile before shutting the door behind her.

Ben dropped his head under the shower and covered his face. The doctor.

***

yesterday, 10:03 am

Benjamin Locke sits on a metal folding chair in the waiting room of the Good Samaritan Center, a sad-looking one-story building with chipped blue paint and broken windows. A small crowd of indigents and elderly people huddles outside the door; the inside smells like disinfectant and bug spray. His mother Holly fills out a form at the receptionist’s desk, and they call Benjamin to follow them into the back.

“In here,” the old lady barks at him. “You’re on this side.” She draws a large canvas curtain that separates the room in two. “Have a seat while you wait,” she continues. “And please get down to your underwear.”

Benjamin looks toward his mother, who shrugs pleasantly and takes a seat. He shakes his head a little and begins to undress – first his shirt, then his shoes and socks, and lastly, with some trepidation, his jeans, which he folds and places on his lap. He stares into space as his mother plays a game with fruit on her phone.

The clinking of the hooks rings out as the curtain is thrust open.

“Benjamin?”

His eyes go wider than he wished they would have. He was expecting an elderly and bearded Dr. Innskeep, not a woman in her early thirties: freckled skin, strawberry blond hair, large white eyes behind large, black-framed glasses. Following behind is a younger woman – hardly older than Benjamin himself – dark hair and eyebrows, a smooth ivory complexion, and a pretty look, despite the irritating grin.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Jackson, and this is Alicia, my assistant,” she continues and picks up the form. “It says here you did a college physical last month,” she says.

“That’s right,” I say.

“So why are you here today?”

Benjamin opens his mouth but says nothing.

Looking at her son askance, his mother says: “He’s got an issue... down there,” pointing at his crotch with a queer frown.

Benjamin presses his lips together and looks down, then up at the assistant, whose grin is more irritating than before.

“Okay,” says Dr. Jackson. She turns to Ben, her expression emotionless, her eyes wider. “Care to elaborate?”

“Um,” Benjamin stammers, licking his lips, “It’s not, like... I mean it itches.”

“What itches?” she asks with piercing eyes. “The penis? The scrotum?”

“Uh, the tip,” he mutters.

“The tip? The glans or the urethra?”

“The what?” Benjamin asks.

“The head or the hole,” says Holly. Alicia almost snorts and looks away.

“Um, both.”

“So it’s not spread throughout your genitals?”

“Uh, no.”

She scribbles on the form. “Are you sexually active?”

“What?” he responds with shock.

“Are you having sex regularly?” the doctor repeats.

“Um, n-not right now,” he says, looking back and forth at his mom – who has raised her eyebrows at him – and the intolerable assistant, straining to compose herself.

“When was the last time you had sex?” Dr. Jackson asks.

Benjamin goes crimson red and shakes his head.

“Hm,” she says with knitted brow. “Guess we can rule out STD. Let’s have a look then.”

His lips involuntarily part. While only moving his eyes, he scans all three female faces – the doctor’s wide and inscrutable eyes; his mother’s cheerful anxiety; the assistant’s nauseating amusement – as a sinking horribleness forms in his belly. The sensation flees from his face and his hands.

“Okay,” he starts. “Is there a room where we go...?”

“This is the room where we go,” the doctor flatly replies as she pulls on a glove. Alicia pretends not to smile. “Stand up, please.”

Benjamin slowly rises. “Hand me those,” he hears his mother say, reaching toward the jeans. As he passes her the pants, he feels a distinct change in pressure as his white boxer briefs stretch. Oh no, he thinks. Not now.

Dr. Jackson has pulled a little stool in front of him and sat down, her intense eyes at his waist; Alicia stands just behind her left shoulder, hands behind her back, eyes agog. Ben’s hands are frozen at his side, which the doctor seems to acknowledge with some impatience.

“Okay, let’s take a peek,” she says as she pulls down his shorts to his thighs. Benjamin feels the cold air between his legs. He looks up at the ceiling, but in his peripheral vision, he sees three heads lean in. He swallows with a dry throat and blinks away tears, feeling wobbly with numbness and fear.

The touch of latex fingers taking hold instinctively compels him to look. The doctor has him in her right hand, and with her left she gently rolls back his foreskin and squeezes, her penetrating eyes less than six inches away.

“Hmm,” the doctor mutters. Alicia covers her mouth with her hand. She looks him in the eye, for once not smiling.

“Oh, honey,” his mom says in a sickening tone of voice. “It’s so... red.”

“What?” Benjamin gets out. “What is it?” The feel of the doctor’s hands is getting too pleasant.

“Lichen sclerosus,” says Dr. Jackson, nodding, squeezing it to open the hole over and over. “Caused by trapped urine in the foreskin... Common among the uncircumcised who don’t... maintain a certain hygiene.”

Alicia smirks and looks away again. Benjamin feels himself stiffen some more and closes his eyes.

“What can we do?” Holly asks plaintively.

“You caught it in time before anything serious happened,” the doctor says, still playing with it absent-mindedly. “Apply a cream I’ll prescribe you twice a day... I would have you do it for him for the first week to make sure you get it in good and to check the progress. After a week or so it usually goes away.”

“Oh thank god we came in when we did,” Holly exhaled. “Thank you, Doctor, so much.”

“My pleasure,” he hears the doctor say as a thumb lightly strokes the side of his shaft. He opens his eyes and looks down, down into her eyes wide as pools. His heart is racing and he doesn’t breathe.

Nonchalantly Dr. Jackson lets go of him, and she turns to jot down in her notepad. His penis doesn’t go down.

A nasal snicker escapes through the assistant’s covered mouth. “Alicia,” the doctor warns with a slight smirk – the first emotion she’s shown all day.

His penis is now noticeably swelling and rising faster. “Pull up your underwear, Ben,” his mother commands in a low tone.

But he can’t move. He feels lost in a fog, sick to his stomach, liable to retch.

The hooks of the canvas ring out again. The curtain is flung wide.

“Oh,” says the old receptionist, followed by a smoker’s cough laugh. “Wrong room.” The two women behind her say nothing.

***

today, 8:35 am

Reliving the memory, here in the shower, perversely aroused him, and he now found himself erect once more. He thought about masturbating, but the irritation from the lichen sclerosus made it too difficult and now he didn’t trust the lock. He turned off the water and grabbed his worn-down towel to dry himself.

Where are my clothes?

His mother took them, he knew. She was always organizing things at inopportune times, like throwing out food he was in the middle of eating. Wrapping the thin towel around himself, he looked in the dirty full-length mirror. His erection was still apparent, so he flipped himself up and tightened the towel. Only two doors away, he thought. He opened the bathroom door.

Standing in the doorway was Mrs. Haglin, leaning against the wall, chewing her gum lasciviously. A light brunette, about his mother’s age, with too much makeup and perfume for this early in the day – especially for someone about to take a shower – she had a leopard-skin towel over her shoulder and wore a low-cut bathrobe that rode up high.

“Hiya, Ben,” she smiled, looking him up and down. “Caughtcha at a bad time?”

“Hi, Mrs. Haglin,” he stammered, distracted by her tits. “I-”

She grunted, rolling her eyes in disgust. “Mr. Haglin is long gone,” she said. “For the last time, call me Mary Beth.”

“R-right,” he nodded politely, as he tried to walk by. “Well, bathroom’s all yours.” She failed to move out of the way.

“You have just turned into the most... handsome young man,” she gushed, admiring him overtly.

He laughed self-consciously. “I-I really gotta...”

She placed a hand on his chest. “In a hurry?” she said softly, looking down with a toothy smile. “Got something ya need ta... take care of?”

Her crystal blue eyes, so close to his face, stunned him momentarily. “Yeah, actually,” he said. “Running late.”

“You’re still dripping wet,” she drawled.

“Uh, yeah, cheap towel,” he replied with a nervous laugh.

“Mmmm,” she said, laughing, sucking through her teeth. “It’s practically see-through.” At that he blushed. “How ‘bout I dry you down some?”

She took her towel and without invitation proceeded to rub his hair, then his chest, and then his back and his arms.

“Thank... thank you missus... thank you, Mary Beth,” he got out. “I gotta-”

“Just lemme get yer legs,” she said. She dropped to her knees, drying his calves. He could see straight down into her cleavage, which shook as she dried him. Her towel climbed up under his, rubbing his left thigh until he could feel it brushing against the skin of his sack, his own towel loosening.

“Okay, really, that’s plenty,” he said, as he tried to pull away by pushing off her shoulders. “Really gotta go.”

She stood up, smacking her gum with a grin. “Anytime, sugar,” she purred. She gave him one last invasive hug, which he struggled to break free from without losing his towel.

Hurriedly Ben leaped to his apartment. As he approached his door, another opened.

Callie. He froze.

“Hey,” she said with a sweet little wave. She stood just inside the door wearing a tight tee and boy shorts – the dark brown skin of her legs and arms shone as if newly moisturized. She had recently lightened her tightly curled hair, which made her even more attractive to him than before; her bright eyes and happy smile were intoxicating.

Blushing, he waved back with a sheepish smile and walked faster. She giggled as he passed by.

***

today, 8:45 am

“Finally!” his mom exclaimed as he opened the door. She was sitting on the couch, putting on her shoes. “What have you been doing?”

“Jesus, mom, you took my clothes!” he snapped back. His older sister Selena, sitting at the card table, laughed with an open mouth full of Cheerios.

“Oh, sorry about that,” his mother dumbly chuckled. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

“What?” he asked. He had already forgotten.

“The cream, silly,” she said as she picked up a small tube on the table.

Benjamin looked around the room, which seemed to him a broom closet. Unopened moving boxes lay stacked around the walls. They hung old bedsheets over the windows as curtains; they hung Christmas lights as lamps.

“The bathroom is, uh, occupied,” he said.

“No time, just come here,” his mother said distractedly.

Benjamin and Selena made eye contact. He could feel the heat off of his sister’s evil joy.

“Come on, I’m not doing this here!”

“Benjamin,” his mother sighed.

“With her here!”

“Benjamin, it’s your adult sister, now-”

“No way! Not happening!” He was breathing heavily. Selena silently chewed her cereal with a smirk. “I’ve suffered enough indignities with this-”

“Benjamin!” Holly shrieked, hands on her knees. She stood up. “Enough! You made me miss two hours of work yesterday to take you to the doctor. Two hours! Thirty-five bucks!”

He shuffled in place. “Then, I had to go to the damn pharmacist at eleven o’clock last night, after my shift, and spend another thirty dollars I don’t have on a cream I don’t need,” she continued, walking his way, the timbre in her voice darkening. “And do you know why?”

“Mom,” he protested weakly.

“Do you know why?” she directed at Selena yet pointing at him. “Because he can’t wash himself properly!” His sister hooted.

Ben reddened. “People can hear you, mom.”

She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him toward the couch where she had been sitting. “You’ve already made me late to work again today, so just cut out the nonsense, and let’s get this over with.”

“Listen, mom, I’m sorry... I-”

Before he could finish, his towel had been stripped from his waist. He heard his sister gasp. He was still partially erect from the shower, from Mary Beth, from Callie.

“Mom!” he cried. He covered himself and looked over at Selena, who was teary-eyed from laughter.

“Oh my god,” Selena erupted, hands to her temples.

He looked down to see his mother sighing and rolling her eyes but with a slight smile, with what appeared to be concealed amusement. “Grow up, Selena,” she drawled. She squeezed a dab of cream onto her right index finger and forcefully threw open his hands. “Now hold still.”

Benjamin felt catatonic. He stood in the middle of the room, his mother handling his half-hard-on while his sister looked on with malevolent delight. It was so bad it was if it were happening to someone else – as the foreskin was rolled back, as a cold finger entered the flap and circled along inside, as more slick fingers massaged the entire head upward, as more cream was placed on the shaft with the whole hand, which with a swirling motion reached down to the balls, where the cold, lubricated fingers, cupping and massaging them, made them retract.

“Okay,” he heard from what seemed like miles afar. “All done.” He looked down at his mother’s meekly smiling face next to his fully erect and swollen cock.

Selena’s laughter, which had never really stopped, grew louder and more obnoxious. “You’re such a loser!” Selena could barely get out.

“Don’t listen to her, sweetie,” his mother patted the side of his thigh. “It’s a... normal reaction... now get dressed.”

He quickly wrapped the towel around himself again and started hunting through his boxes and luggage. Everything was empty.

“Where the hell are all my clothes?” Benjamin asked with concern.

His mother smacked his forehead. “Ugh... I gave everything to Mary Beth this morning to wash for me.” Selena cackled even harder.

“You’re shitting me,” he said.

“Ben! Watch the mouth. It’ll only be an hour or so,” she said, rinsing her hands in the kitchen sink. She flew around the counter and kissed the head of Selena and the cheek of Ben. “See you guys tonight! Love you!”

And then she was gone, like nothing ever happened.

***