Category Archives: Stories

  When the smiling couple left the young boy with a crumpled hundred-rupee note in his hand, he swore under my breath in English, and then in Nepalese cursed a rain of rabid monkeys upon them.  Nothing happened, not one … Continue reading →

Derek thought he could fly, he truly believed that if he was completely committed, both mentally to the act and physically to the action then he would be able to fly.  There could be no doubt.  Frequent failed attempts from … Continue reading →

I try so hard to think like a Wolf, to live for the here and now, to let the repercussions of the future waft past my mind as I feel the wind flow through my hair, my fur.  As I … Continue reading →

A small man arrived, I use small as a base description for his arms defied this, one could see his hands, slightly curled, hanging somewhere by his knees in orangutan mimicry.  He seemed cheerful enough.  We clambered into his 1978 … Continue reading →

Time passed quickly, I was relaxed, but my throat still went dry when my name was called and I could only grunt a throaty response and follow the female nurse along a terribly lengthy 3m corridor to a door, whose sign proclaimed it to be for the purposes of ‘examination’. Through the door I empathised with the lonely plastic chair on which I was invited to sit.

She was a large afro-carribean lady with one of those infinately friendly faces, a person from whom you’d expect the constant flourishing of candy from unknown hiddyholes on her curvacous body just to settle your nerves. She was also fairly old: definitely not a hot blonde. This did eliminate a fair majority of my fantasies and fears but still left one niggling issue; was getting an erection from this kind grandma figure better or worse than from my fantastical and sexy NHS nurse?

Oral sex? Yes. Throat swab: painless.

Does it hurt when you urinate? No. Are your testicles swollen? No. Have you experienced any discharge? Yes. Interesting.

Vaginal sex? Yes. Cell samples required from uretha: painful.

I knew it would come to that, of course I knew, it was the basis for my entire worry. She delayed the inevitable by meticulously washing her hands with soap and water and then dry-washing with alcohol solution, as if to highlight the fact that I was dirty, diseased and she was clean, healthy. Slowly she lay the instruments upon the desk infront of me and began to lubricate a small red stick, explaining that there was likely to be a small ammount of discomfort. She took her time. Maybe it was a well laid plan, maybe she was just evil at heart. Whatever the level of premeditation, by the time she asked me to drop my pants and lay on the bed my manhood and retracted like a scared snail, but without a shell to boast its actual potential.

As I lay there slightly embarrased for smaller reasons than expected I thought to myself; still the women has control, then the searing pain of invasion struck and I focused on what I could control. Pain: Mind: Body.
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