The Swim Team Ch. 03.5

Gabrielle disappeared again, groaning...

"I'll let you figure out how to release this tension."

...and sprang back out. "I don't know how to do that. I'll hurt myself!"

"You'll be fine."

Gabrielle clutched her head. "I can't believe this is happening."

"Seriously, Gabrielle, I doubt Dr. Reyes got any sort of judgmental about your sexuality. You really should try to see me the same way."

"I'm a virgin."

"Oh."

"A virgin virgin."

"Oh..."

"Yes. It still exists. Shocker, I know."

"And you've never even seen—"

"Grrrrrhh"

"Ohmigod ohmigod all right, you know what, actually it's part of the advanced exam."

"Teaching me to...?"

"No, checking if the...mechanism works."

"You're just making stuff up as you go along."

"No, I swear. I trained for it actually. I was as awkward as you are. We were three students and a doctor and the girl had been a Rebz for a year and she was so relaxed it made us super awkward..."

"Uh?"

"...She took off her hospital gown cause she said they were ugly, and she was erect and we did all these tests on her and she loved it and the last one was monitoring of the penile orgasm..."

"Uh?"

"And of course it had to be me. So you see, it's nothing I haven't done before."

"So basically you signed on so you can j-jerk off people for free? What kind of perv are you?"

Hurt, Emilia swelled out her chest to start: "I didn't sign on for that! I..." but immediately drooped back, calmed down and slowed down: "I... I mean...of course sex was a huge factor in my decision. I mean you don't choose this curriculum if from the start you don't see sexuality as something important, more than important. Like...beautiful. All right, yes, ok, I love sex. I do—But no! not like you think! It it it... It goes beyond words. It's... Sex is like something almost sacred to me, Gabrielle, you understand? It's hard to explain. Sex is... 'knowing'... you know?"

It took a while for Gabrielle to get the reference, but when she did she grinned. It was simultaneously sacrilegious and sweet.

"But I'm not a perv as you say, Gabrielle. A pervert is only me me me. I adore sex because it's us. I love it as a discipline. I love it as a universe of its own. You know sex is a lot of things. It's also having babies. It's also healing people who are sick. People in need."

"Admit that's a strange environment though. I mean, you filmed that video. Girls you barely know flashing their..."

"Because I understand. And that's why ultimately they trust me. I understand what arousal means for them. How weird it gets. And..." Emilia paused. "And soon you will understand them too."

Gabrielle pondered. She really did. And this time instead of the darkness of the bed or the glow of the tablet screen, she sobbed in front of Emilia.

"And I don't have a choice," she said eventually.

"You always have a choice. Look. Since I've passed that door there's still one question that you have seemed to overlook. The most basic and important question."

"What is it?"

"Why?"

"Why me?"

"No. Why? What's your purpose? What does it all mean?"

"What's my purpose?"

Emilia leaned close to her face for dramatic effect:

"That's a question everybody asks."

Gabrielle sniffled, wiped her tears. She got the point.

"You're going to be all right, Gabrielle. Your life gave you something good. And I know that you know."

"I was fine with my vagina. It's what I received at birth and I was fine with it."

"It's not just about having a penis."

"It's awful to feel so good. It's awful that it makes me feel so...free. It's not me. I'm not well being like that. It's alien hormones inside of me that make me do stuff. I mean for Christ's sake some of my friends wear a purity ring!"

"You can be bodyshy and horny at the same time. Dr. Reyes—"

"Reyes is an old hag and I've hated every second she touched me."

"You don't have to like medical exams."

"Something's wrong with me. What happens then? How would you examine me exactly?"

Emilia reached into her medical case. "Well first I'd take my torture devices." And took out a stethoscope.

"Har-har-har."

"Just the usual checkup. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Then what?"

"Then I take your measurements, you were right about that. See if everything is normal."

"So I'll have to undress."

"Gyno exams are never fun."

"Not gyno anymore..." Gabrielle shook her head and sat up.

"Fair enough."

Nervously, Gabrielle pushed down the covers. She was wearing an overly large blue and yellow jersey shirt.

"Go Rams," she trumpeted bitterly.

The outline of her erection stretched it, up to her chest.

Emilia went on very gentle, very patient.

"All right?"

"Alright."

With slow movements, she did a routine physical, careful not to brush against the bulge.

She took her blood pressure, checked her pulse under her shirt, palpated everything that needed to, under her shirt, and did a fundoscopy as asked.

And there was nothing wrong with Gabrielle. Other than the fifty million cans.

"Why does it have to be so big?" she asked.

"We don't know."

"Isn't it too big?"

"How big is too big?"

"I dunno it's not like I measured it."

"Ain't you curious?"

"It's men who brag about the size of their wieners."

"What's your bra size?"

At the speed of reflex, Gabrielle opened her mouth and inhaled to answer...and got her point and shut back her piehole.

She sighed. And then blushed for the first time.

"Sometimes... Sometimes I already feel like it's mine. Like it's me."

"And you feel bad about it?" Emilia asked.

Gabrielle considered an answer. And eventually admitted that it could only be:

"Yes and no."

The two women looked at each other for a moment. Decisive. And decisively restful.

"Sometimes..." Gabrielle went on. "Sometimes it's like I'm like Finally. Finally I'm going to be like this. To feel...ok. To feel alone with myself. Finally I'll be able to go skinny dipping. And finally I'll be aroused and it won't feel normal, it will feel...intense. Is it how it's supposed to be?"

"I can't answer that."

"Doctor Emmerson, do you promise me you will always treat me like I'm normal?"

"I promise. I can't judge something that is so beyond my comprehension. And I promise to help you so much that you will feel like you don't need my help."

"Will my life be this permanent philosophical debate from now on? Wait, I know the answer: same for everyone?"

"Something like that."

"So this girl, what did she do?"

"Who?"

"When you had to examine her."

"Oh. Well, as I said, she got naked but it's not..."

Gabrielle took a deep breath.

Clasped the hem of her shirt.

But asked, "Do I have... um... Can I..."

"Semen?"

"Myea..."

"No. Give it a couple of years."

Shyly, Gabrielle uncovered her hairless testicles and pulled the shirt up, inch after inch of her shaft, up to her breasts. Then, after going over the tip, replaced it onto her stomach.

Emilia was putting latex gloves on and fumbling in her medical case instead of leering at this penis now throbbing in the air; one as beautiful as all the Rebz-penii she had seen before. And perhaps in that case, more.

"If you feel uncomfortable with anything, you just tell me," she said. "Anything, ok?"

"Whatever."

"First, the girl had to stand so we could measure her waist and hips."

Gabrielle got out of her bed and stood in front of her ...gynecologist? ...andrologist? During these few steps her penis wouldn't even swing. It was hard and nothing less. Pointing upward at a forty-degree angle, engorged at an apparent maximum.

Emilia looked at it. Remembered it wasn't nice to stare. It was unreal everytime. It was majestic.

"Does it look ok?"

She snapped out of it. "Y-yes!"

"Will I hurt myself if I stay aroused for too long?"

"You would lose sleep, become irritable, and you'd end up having an involuntary orgasm... What's your height?"

"Five-one."

"What's your weight?"

"A lady don't tell."

"Ok so one hundred thirty."

"Hey!"

"Hips... thirty-four. Waist... twenty-eight."

"Is that ok?"

Only after all this Emilia started her dictaphone and leaned very, very close.

"I'm checking the general aspect first. Ready?"

Gabrielle tensed up.

"Everything normal. No phimosis. No discoloration or particular pigmentation; no curving; homogenous circumference; shaving rash is healing. Let's check the mobility."

Emilia put the tip of her finger on her penis, as a first contact. Gabrielle winced.

She added another finger, then her thumb, and only after Gabrielle calmed down a little, she began bending it around, moving it on its axis, up and down, right and left, in a circle.

Then her two hands moved up to test her foreskin elasticity.

She nipped the skin and stretched it around. And that's when she suddenly said, "Oh my God!"

"What?"

And she pulled the foreskin back. The head popped out, startling Gabrielle, but also the stink instantly hit her nose.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed.

"Oh my God!" they both repeated. The wafts of urine and precum were thick and inescapable, almost warm. Utterly disgusting.

Gabrielle was panicking, tottering and turning away. "I was too scared to do that I didn't wash it I'm so sorry!"

Emilia got a grip on herself: "It's ok, I have some wet wipes. Gabrielle, you're gonna have to wash out your smegma from now on!"

"My w-hhat?"

"Your dickcheese!"

At this last drop laughter burst out in mutual panic. They were facing each other, and this dick between them was finally not so outlandish anymore, not so unreachable. It could be comical, it was human. Emilia handed her wipes after wipes, tearing up from the smell and the chortling; and Gabrielle cleaned herself as fast as possible, squirming, blushing, giggling between two "Ew!" and other "Boys are icky!" Her fit conveniently hiding her reaction to the wipes scrubbing her deliciously bare glans.

"Will I have to get circumcised?" she managed to choke out.

"What would you do that for?"

"Someone in the video was."

"Her name's Ellenstein. Do the math, girl."

They laughed again, if they ever stopped. They had to sit on the bed.

They laughed together until Gabrielle realized she hadn't done so since Halloween.

The evaporating lotion produced this gripping sensation of warm coolness which distracted her from her headrush. The purple tip flared. Clean and soft. The ring of the foreskin stretched so much it turned white like a knuckle. Gabrielle repressed a gasp. Emilia saw it.

She said:

"Since you're a virgin, I must tell you a secret. You know how most women have difficulties reaching orgasm, especially during sex, and we have to focus and focus and let go at the same time."

"Yeah, I know. I'm not a virgin virgin virgin."

"Got it. Well the thing is, for men it's the opposite. When they have sex they focus and they try to control the build-up and they pray they can last long enough."

"They think about baseball?"

"And tax return, yes."

"I'm not sure what you're trying to say."

Emilia shrugged comically and then fished a measuring tape and vernier calipers out of her case. "Ready?"

The girl lay down. Her penis was filling up with unexpected anticipation. It was made for pleasure above all else, she understood. Impolite pleasure. Overpowering. An evolutionary nonsense. It was so hard it wouldn't rest on her stomach but still pointed up at the same angle, twitching whenever Emilia moved her hands.

And moved them she did. They ran everywhere, as eager and curious as her eyes. She was actually so brisk she didn't worry whether her movements and groping and touching would linger on the sensuous side.

"Glans normal, meatus normal, frenulum normal, crown normal. Now I want you to push until I tell you to stop."

Gabrielle flexed her penis and didn't realize she was trying to do so as hard as she could. She was chasing the bursting point. She didn't realize she bit her lower lip. She didn't realize she wanted to have the biggest cock possible for Emilia.

Emilia, whose hand trembled as it grasped the jaw-dropping result, put the tape onto it the way she had been taught to.

"Fourteen point three inches in length. Here it is. You can put it in your Instagram bio. Circumference of the shaft, nine point one inches. That's a... three in diameter. Circumference of the head, ten inches. Ridge of the crown, point fifty-eight. Meatus, point fifty-five. You can stop, thank you."

Gabrielle unclenched with a moan. She was out of breath.

Their gaze met.

Emilia would never be able to tell if at that moment she saw satisfaction in Gabrielle's eyes or lewd disappointment.

"Let's see your testicles."

She palpated and measured them.

"Everything normal there too. We'll do an ultrasound next time at my office. What size would you say they are? Apples or oranges?"

"They're so big I have to spread my legs all the time," Gabrielle complained.

"They can get even bigger sometimes. Do you feel any tension in them? Any pain, any discomfort?"

"Tension yes. But... it's nice, not painful."

"Well, if you were wondering: you are a little above the norm."

This information made her cock jump and then throb several times and Emilia saw it as an opportunity to put on her stethoscope, place the chestpiece on the shaft, just beneath the frenulum, and listen.

She smiled.

"Wanna have a listen?"

Gabrielle nodded and, timid and blushing, put on the two earplugs that were handed to her.

Her eyes opened wide.

She could hear the rushing sound of this new part of her body. She closed her eyes, stopped breathing, and flexed her penis again. And wondered at the waves, the heartbeat, the life inside her. Her body, her penis, the another me inside herself were thundering a symphony for her, of subtle tones never heard anywhere, drifting in and out, sotto voce just for her and tingling loud for her eardrums.

"Emilia?"

"Yes?"

"The syndrome... is it like... magic?"

Emilia shrugged. "Sex is magic."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes.

"So then, the girl, what did she do, did she dance to the sound of her own schlong?"

Emilia chuckled. "No. Actually we've reached the advanced part of the exam. You're not gonna like it."

"What?"

"I have to do a prostate exam. You see what that is?"

Nonetheless she showed her a cross-sectional view of the male reproductive system on the tablet and explained to her how the testes only produce sperm cells while the prostate produces the milky fluid enrobing them.

"It's a very important organ. I need to feel if everything is ok. So...um..."

She demonstrated the procedure with the picture. Gabrielle hid her head under her pillow, pressing hard, smothering a groan.

"I use lube, it won't hurt."

Emilia's patience was infinite. And sincere.

A muffled little voice eventually came out:

"It's like a pap smear? but for men?"

"Exactly."

"You did it before?"

"So far I only did it to grandpas who have prostate problems. You will be my first."

Scared, irresolute silence from the pillow. Until finally:

"I want you so much to find something wrong with me that... Fine, let's get it over with. What do I do?"

"You'll be most comfortable on your hands and knees."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"The girl, she assumed the position naturally, I suppose?"

"Definitely. She was quite provocative."

Getting on all fours, Gabrielle tucked her penis back inside her shirt, but pulled the hem over her tailbone. And now Emilia discovered her anus.

"The student who was to perform the exam, he was mortified. He checked the perineum, the raphe—basically it's the taint. Yours has fused properly. He put lube on his finger then on her. It's cold, I know. We told her to breathe deep and slow, to relax her anus."

"Ugh, that word..."

"Ready to experience male privilege?"

"They teach comedy at StanfordPFFFffffhf!" Emilia's forefinger had slid in unsurpringly easily. One knuckle.

Two.

She paused so that Gabrielle could get used to the intrusion. Emilia said: "Can I ask you something? You don't laugh at my jokes; do you think we'll be good friends?"

Gabrielle chortled and then cackled. Her sphincters were clasping on the finger inside her. "This is the perfect moment for the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"I'm gonna palpate your prostate now, are you ready?"

"Does it hurt?"

"You tell me."

Emilia pressed with the pad of her finger. Like all Rebz's prostates, it was twice as big as a male one. They didn't know why that was; all they knew was that it was twice as sensitive.

Gabrielle tensed and whimpered, almost told her to stop, but put up with it, thinking she had to.

Emilia massaged the spongy gland, pushed around and in and out.

"I'm sorry but you will have to tell me how it feels. Does it hurt?"

Gabrielle tried to keep her voice from fluttering when she replied: "Feels like I need to pee."

"Good." She withdrew her finger, but not completely, only to add another one. And she pushed in. Gabrielle opened her mouth to protest but again, it went in so easily and didn't hurt at all. Actually the resistance of the tight ring of her anus on those fingers was quite— Emilia started doing a 'come hither' motion. Gabrielle rested her head inside her elbows and bit her lips for any sound that would have wanted to escape her throat. It was anal masturbation, plain and simple. And as slow as it was going, what she would later learn was called her P-spot was responding to the stimulation; it was getting clear and perfectly defined inside her. A little ball enfolding a humming, liquid thrill.

It felt good. For both of them. It went for a few motions longer than reasonable. Until she felt like she was actually peeing, and she lurched with a gasp, squeezing the fingers out of her in the process.

Still on all fours, Gabrielle pulled her shirt and saw a bead of precum on her urethra, which dropped into a long clear string and linked her with the bedsheets, unbreaking.

"You said I couldn't c..."

"No no no don't worry, it's the same fluid that you evacuated last night. There was some residual. I'm sorry, I should have warned you."

"Ok, anyway, no more."

"I'm done, you can lie down." Emilia threw away her gloves.

Meanwhile, Gabrielle looked at this strand of precum bowing and dangling.

And right before her staring would go on for longer than reasonable and unnoticeable, she sat, her back against the headboard, to clean herself with the wet wipes.

After covering herself back up, her breathing still wasn't slowing down.

Emilia waited for her to speak first.

"You haven't told me anything about bullying," Gabrielle eventually said. "About depression. What's it like for the other Rebz?"

"No, I didn't. But I expect you to. You don't have to consider me a confident. But I want you to know that I will always be here to listen."

"I don't want to be homeschooled. I really don't. And this...tentacle phase...it's hard to hide. So I need to learn how to protect myself from it. And suppress it and I dunno."

"I'm sorry you see it this way, but I understand."

"Let's finish the exam then. It's like my head is gonna burst."

"All right, um..."

Emilia stood still as she saw that Gabrielle, instead of preparing herself, was bundling herself up, chin on her knees.

The Rebz was brooding again, eyes to the sky. Deeply, as for the last time. To the point that her voice seemed to have changed when she spoke again:

"I have this scar on my shin. Bike accident, when I was in third grade. Do you see it?"

"Yes."

"It's getting smaller."

Emilia nodded.