Luke's Appointment: Part 3

On their way back through the clinic waiting area Mrs Browne stopped as she wanted to speak to the busy receptionist. There was a queue and while mum chatted to some ladies she knew, Luke was made to stand still and wait. He didn’t think it would be possible to be so embarrassed as he felt at that moment. The waiting area was full of mums and their children… and all of them had heard what had so recently happened to Luke in the little cubicle. Luke knew everyone there had heard mum ticking him off for masturbating and everyone had heard him getting a red-hot spanking that had left him in tears, pleading for forgiveness. They knew the price Luke would be paying for his naughtiness, indeed they could see that already as Luke had been dressed in the most hideously humiliating clothes. The little boy underpants were very tight, but as Nurse Pilbeam had noted, it wasn’t as if Luke needed that much support, so he had been squeezed into a pair of nylon Boy’s Playtime UnderPanties which featured a colourful design based on action figures popular with young boys. Although the tiny underpants were desperately uncomfortable, Luke was just relieved no one could see them.

The shortalls Luke had been put into by Michelle and Nurse Pilbeam could not have been any shorter. Indeed there were no legs to them at all to speak of and so the lower curves of Luke's well shaped bottom were visible to all, which meant his long, smooth legs were bare all the way down to the humiliating red plastic play sandals and the frilly little ankle socks which were decorated with tiny lambs. The lamb motif could also be seen on Luke's singlet where little lambkins gambolled across the thin cotton top. Michelle had followed Nurse Pilbeam's instructions and had made sure the shortall braces were done up nice and tight.

"We don't want Luke leaving here and making an exhibition of himself... make sure the braces are done up properly, Michelle," Nurse Pilbeam had said, "If the straps aren't tight they can easily slip from Luke's shoulders... yes, that's excellent, Michelle. Remember that when you're dressing Luke in future..."

By the time mum did at last reach the receptionist, Luke, trussed up as he was in his shortalls, began to feel the need for a pee. At first he thought he would be able to hold on, but it wasn't long before his bladder became more insistent. The tight-fitting little boy underpants hardly helped Luke's predicament, neither did the shortalls which Luke was ever more aware did not possess a fly-front. Then another aspect of their design to which Luke hadn't given much thought, suddenly hit him... the buckles that held the straps in place were at the back of the garment! Luke couldn't reach them let alone undo them on his own and, as Michelle had done them up so tightly, simply pushing the straps from his shoulders was not an option.

Luke began to panic and naturally this made matters worse. Almost unconsciously he started to dance from one foot to the other. He squeezed his thighs together. Before much longer Luke was pressing his hands between his legs.

Mum was talking to the receptionist and was quite unaware of her son's predicament. Luke tried to gain her attention:

"Mum... mummy... I need… I need to..." he said urgently.

"Not just now, Luke... You can see I'm busy..." mum replied sternly.

"Yes, mummy... but..."

"That's enough, Luke."

Luke hunched forward a little and crossed his legs. The more he thought about needing a pee, the more intense his need became. The shortalls and the little boy underpants pressed against Luke’s bladder until he thought it was ready to burst. Children sitting with their mums started to giggle as they watched the big boy dancing about in front of them; they knew the signs.

Luke stood in silence and squeezed his legs together some more. His hands were pushed between his legs and now Luke could hear the children behind him teasing him. At first they made s-s-sissing noises and when they saw this made Luke dance even more they talked loudly about tinkling bells that go tinkle-tinkle-tinkle! The more the children teased, the more desperate Luke became, until he simply had to get mum’s attention.

"Please mummy.... please, I need to... I need to..."

Finally Mrs Browne turned round to face her son: "What's the matter with you, Luke? Can't I leave you alone for two minutes without you pestering me?"

“But, mummy… I need to…”

Before Luke could say any more the loud voice of a little boy squealed: “He wants a wee-wee! He wants a wee-wee!! Wee-wee!! Wee-wee… he wants a wee-wee...”

The boy’s mum simply laughed and explained to Mrs Browne that Luke had been hopping about behind her back as she stood at the reception. “It does look as though he needs to be taken to the little boy’s room... Would you like me to take him if you're busy?”

“Oh that’s very kind of you,” Mrs Browne said, “I’d be most grateful if you’d take him before he wets himself…”

If Luke had been blushing before, it was as nothing to the colour he went as it became clear he was to be taken to the toilet by this stranger. Luke’s obvious embarrassment didn’t bother mum at all. Neither did it trouble the kind lady who offered to escort Luke to the toilet. Mrs Knight, for that was the lady’s name, took a firm hold of one of Luke’s wrists and tugged his hand away from the front of the shortalls:

“Come along now Luke, let’s get you to the little boy’s room before you go wee-wees in your nice shortalls,” she said as she pulled Luke along, “Has mummy let you go wee-wees in the grown-up’s toilet yet?”

Luke was beside himself, trapped in the shortalls and being pulled along by a woman who seemed to think he was no older than her own child: “I’m… I’m… nineteen…” was all Luke could think to say. Of course he used the ‘grown-up’s toilet’, he said to himself, didn’t everyone?

“Oh… a big boy are you…?” Mrs Knight said, but the tone of her voice was one of transparent disbelief, “Well perhaps you are a big boy… but big boys can’t always be trusted, can they…? Little tinkles go splishy-splashy all over the floor, don’t they…?”

"I can go on my own… honestly. It's just these... these straps..." Luke was desperate to pee and Mrs Knight’s baby-talk was driving him mad.

"Of course you can go wee-wees on your own," Mrs Knight said using the most patronising tone Luke had ever heard, which was something! "Of course I’m sure mummy lets you go wee-wees on your own... but mummy isn’t here to clean up your little tinkle-drops..."

Luke didn't understand Mrs Knight. Surely she must realise I'm a big boy now, he thought, hardly aware of his situation and the people passing by in the corridor who gave him withering looks of contempt. The only thing Luke could concentrate on was the increasing pressure on his bladder and his desperate need to relieve himself. If it wasn't for these stupid shortalls... and why doesn't this woman hurry up, I'm bursting?!

"Now let's see... where are those little boy tinkle-toilets?" Mrs Knight said as she steered Luke past the grown-ups’ toilets, "Here we are..." she announced as she pushed open the door to the children and babies changing-room. To Luke's consternation, there was no toilet to be seen.

"But... but, this isn't..." Luke said, his eyes on stalks as he squeezed his hand between his legs to stop himself from wetting his shortalls.

"What's wrong, dear? You want to go wee-wees don't you?" Mrs Knight said, her voice full of concern for Luke.

"Yes... but I... yes, yes, please..." Luke said as the pressure grew. He couldn't' bear the thought of wetting himself. Anything was better than that, so he said the words he knew Mrs Knight wanted to hear, "Please... I want to go wee-wees... Pleeease, I want to go wee-wees now..."

"Well then let's get you ready shall we?"

Luke was beyond caring. All he could do was groan in response.

Mrs Knight, used as she was with dealing with little boys, treated Luke no differently. It was as if he was just another overgrown little boy. She pulled Luke's hand away from the front of his shortalls and soon had the buckles loosened. The front bib of the shortalls flopped forwards and the two side buttons were quickly undone. Before Luke could say anything, Mrs Knight had tugged both his shortalls and the tight little Boy’s Playtime UnderPanties down to his ankles... just in time.

"Please... please... I need to wee-wee..." Luke said as he became almost hysterical at the lack of a toilet or urinal in the room. He heard a rattling noise and looked over his shoulder to see Mrs Knight had opened a cupboard. She was holding a brightly coloured plastic potty!

"Here we are," she said still using the patronising voice that Luke found so irritating, "Are you going to do a little tinkle for me?" Then she came round to face Luke, looked down and caught sight of his penis, “Oh my! What a little tinky-winky! Oh isn’t that sweet?! Are you ready for tinkle-time?”

Luke was shaking. He’d do anything, say anything… but he had to relieve himself, so he dutifully replied: “Yes… yes… please… I need to go wee-wees… pleeease may I go wee-wees…?”

"Alright then... now be a good little boy and sit nicely on the potty for aunty..."

Mrs Knight placed the plastic potty, stenciled with a variety of Peter Pan characters, on the floor at Luke's feet. Luke could hardly believe what he saw, but what choice did he have other than to crouch down and sit on the potty? This he did under the maternal smile of Mrs Knight.

"Oh what a clever little boy! That's it... now a nice little tinkle for aunty... good boy..."

Luke sighed with relief as he released the pressure on his bladder. For an all too brief moment he was lost in his own world as the panic subsided. He hung his head let his stream of pee drain into the plastic potty.

As the noise of the splashing liquid echoed off the solid walls of the room, Mrs Knight saw fit to encourage Luke:

"Are you doing a nice little wee-wee for aunty?"

Luke glanced up at Mrs Knight. The humiliation he felt was intense. He saw his shortalls and little boy underpants scrunched up at his feet. He felt the plastic potty on which he was sat. He looked around the room at the cartoon characters which decorated the walls.

"What are you doing in your potty for aunty?" Mrs Knight prompted Luke when he failed to answer her question.

"A... tinkle... I'm doing a tinkle..." Luke said, utterly ashamed of himself.

"Oh that is a clever little boy... just wait 'til I tell your mummy what a clever little boy you are..."

"Um... err, I've... um, finished my tinkle now..." Luke announced, unsure of whether he should get up without Mrs Knight's permission.

Michelle popped her head round the door.

"We were all wondering where Luke had got to..." she said.

"Little Luke was taken short and needed a little tinkle-time... didn't you Luke?" Mrs Knight informed Michelle.

Luke, still sitting on the potty looked up at Michelle: "Yes... I, I needed to... do a... wee-wee..."

"Oh... you should have said... oh, Luke, what a silly boy... if you'd have said something I could have taken you to the toilet..." Michelle said.

Luke sat still on the plastic potty as Mrs Knight told Michelle that it’d been no trouble and that Luke had behaved very well during tinkle-time. Michelle looked down at Luke; at the infantile clothes scrunched at his feet; at his little willy, clean and smooth; at the plastic potty.

“We’d better get you cleaned up again, Luke,” Michelle announced.

Luke again suffered the indignity of being cleaned up by Michelle, a girl two years his junior. And, after being strapped into his shortalls once more, he faced yet another indignity as Mrs Knight told him to pick up the potty. Michelle led the way back down the corridor. Luke followed holding the potty. MIchelle held open the door to the 'Mens' toilet and Luke dutifully emptied the potty as he wondered why he couldn't have been taken there in the first place. If it hadn't been for these stupid shortalls I could've gone on my own, he thought.

Finally, after the potty had been rinsed and returned to its cupboard, Luke was escorted back to the waiting-room. Mum had finished her business with the receptionist and now listened as Mrs Knight's related her detailed report of Luke's tinkle-time. Once more Luke squirmed with embarrassment as Mrs Knight mentioned how small his bald penis was and how it was just as well Luke was sat on a potty as she was sure Luke's little willy would have sprayed wee-wee all over the floor if he'd been allowed to tinkle on his own.

Sheepishly Luke had looked around the busy waiting-room and it seemed to him that everyone was listening to what Mrs Knight and his mum were saying. Luke was glad when the time finally came to leave the clinic. It certainly had been an appointment he wouldn't forget in a hurry.

*

Luke thought he’d seen and heard the last of the sort of short-trousered discipline he’d been subjected to during his formative years at school. His mum had always been strict with him during that time, but since leaving school Luke had slowly been given more freedom even though he still lived at home. Nonetheless mum had kept a close eye on him, as mums always do, but it had been with a noticeably lighter touch. That was not to say that mum had given up on her duty to bring up her son in a manner she saw fit, but she was also aware that Luke was, strictly speaking, quite able to make up his own mind whether to stay at home and live under her roof, or to go his own way.

Unfortunately for Luke moving out was not an option, since he lacked the financial means to do so. When Mrs Browne mentioned his ‘pocket-money’, she was referring to the pitifully small payments Luke received for undertaking little jobs for his mum’s friends. In the summer months Luke could be seen carrying out a variety of gardening tasks; in the winter there were always plenty of jobs to be done around their houses. Luke was conscientious and competent. He might have made himself a proper little business from his practical skills, but mum would never hear of her friends giving her son more than a token amount in payment for his labours. Between them, mum and her friends kept Luke very busy and this state of affairs ensured Luke never had the wherewithal to leave home, let alone set up on his own as a handyman. Luke stoically accepted that while in his mum’s house, she made the rules, as had always been the case of course.

Life for Luke was highlighted by privileges earned and the biggest and best of these had been the day he was allowed to put on his very first pair of long trousers. It had been his sixteenth birthday and it was mum’s special birthday surprise for Luke. On his card mum had written an unexpected, extra special birthday message that Luke’s pyjama-time was to be put back to 7 o’clock… a whole hour later! And at sixteen years old Luke would now be put to bed at 8 o’clock, half an hour later than before. Luke was thrilled and kissed his mummy ‘thank you’. It was the best birthday he could remember.

But privileges earned can just as easily be withdrawn and Luke often found himself suffering a suspension of long trouser privileges, sometimes for a weekend, a few days, or even longer if it was warranted by his behaviour. Pyjama-time or bedtime could be brought forward and sometimes Luke found himself coming home from school to find his pyjamas warming in front of the fire and knew he was in for an early bedtime. It never mattered to mum who else was present as she undressed Luke in the front-room and took him, bare-nude, through to the kitchen for a strip-wash by the sink. After toweling him dry, Luke would be led back to the front-room and put into his pyjamas. All very embarrassing when you’re a sixteen year old schoolboy.

Mum had also developed a 'pyjama code'  by which Luke came to know how early his punishment bedtime would be. The more childish the pyjamas mum laid out for him the earlier Luke's bedtime. By the time Luke was in his mid to late teens mum had allowed him to wear striped winceyette boy's pyjamas, but if Luke saw his 'Transformer' pyjamas, he knew his bedtime was to be at least an hour earlier; 'Spaceships' and bedtime was earlier still, and so on. If Luke saw his 'Care Bear' or 'Peter Pan' pyjamas, he knew it was to be straight up to bed and no tea. From experience Luke knew it was pointless to protest, on being taken up to beddy-byes, that it was only four-thirty.

*

When Luke heard about the vacancy at the boys’ swimming club, he was keen to volunteer his  services. It was a golden opportunity to do something he wanted to do; something different. Something that didn’t involve being ordered about by mum’s friends and patronised by their daughters. However Luke had a shock when he was told he'd have to undress in front of the young boys aged between twelve and fourteen. Emma, the coach, made it quite clear that showering with the boys was the only way to ensure they washed and rinsed themselves properly. It was important that boys didn’t leave the changing-room smelling of chlorine, Luke was told. The reason for this, Emma explained, was that chlorine damaged the boys clothes if they didn’t shower properly after swimming in the pool. Luke would also have to make sure the boys rinsed their swim-trunks properly in the sinks provided. To set an example Luke would be expected to remove his trunks first and lead the way to the sinks.

As all this was explained, Luke began to have reservations.

It is perhaps understandable that Luke was very conscious of his small penis. He had of course been teased by his classmates at school, but over the years and as they grew up together, everyone accepted 'nobby', giving Luke the sort of ironic nickname of which boys are sometimes capable. It was only when new boys saw Luke's miserable little nubbin, that anything was said. The last thing Luke wanted was to draw attention to himself, so he tried his best to remain on good terms with his contemporaries at school and for the most part it worked. But being told he would have to spend what sounded to be considerable periods of time bare-nude in front of young boys... now that was something altogether different. Luke spent many sleepless night worrying about whether he should volunteer for a job that was bound to bring with it the sort of humiliation he knew from bitter experience was best avoided. In the end though it was mum who made the decision for him.

Luke had been prevaricating, refusing to commit himself whenever Emma asked him if he was going to help out at the club. The boys' swimming club was due to meet again after a break and Emma needed an answer, so she called round to Luke’s house. Before Luke knew what was happening, Emma had explained to his mother how her younger brother Phillip, who everyone knew as ‘Pip’, was a member of the swimming club…

“Pip’s fourteen, nearly fifteen… the oldest boy in the club. He does his best to make sure everyone showers properly after the club meetings… but it really needs an older boy with a bit more authority… Luke would be ideal. When he came to see me he was really keen to help out, but for some reason he seems to be having second thoughts. I’ve no idea why, so I came round to see if I could make him change his mind…”

By this time Luke was standing out of sight in the in the hallway next to the door to the front-room. He was listening with a growing sense of unease. It wasn’t long before Luke heard his mum promise Emma that he would help out at the swimming club. Luke made himself scarce.

As she was escorted to the front door Emma turned and thanked Luke’s mum: “You’ve been so helpful, Mrs Browne. I’m sure Luke will enjoy helping out at the club. Those young boys need someone like Luke to look up to… thanks again.”

The front door closed. Mrs Browne turned and called out: “Luke! Luke! Come here!”

Sheepishly Luke joined mum in the front-room where mum asked him why he’d made such a fuss about helping out “that nice young girl” at the swimming club. In the absence of any explanation, Luke quickly found himself agreeing with mum’s wishes. Ironically enough mum’s reasons were the same as Luke’s when he’d first heard of the job; that it was something different for him to do; that it would give him a break from “all us old folk”; that swimming was something he enjoyed. But what Luke couldn’t tell his mum was the real reason he’d had second thoughts about things and why he’d fought shy about giving Emma and answer.

So it was that Luke, rather against his wishes and certainly against his better judgement, came to help out at the boys' swimming club. As he feared, Luke was teased mercilessly by the boys he was nominally in charge of when they were all in the changing-room. Pip, in particular, thought it was very funny that Luke, in spite of being the oldest, had such a tiny penis. Pip himself, although still without any sign of pubic hair, had an impressively large penis and waggled it in front of Luke at every opportunity. At first the boys simply laughed at Luke's small penis, but soon enough the teasing began. Before long Luke was relying on Pip to keep order in the after club showers. But even as Pip kept the boys under control, Luke could see he was not averse to encouraging the younger boys to tease him. However, when the boys were in the swimming pool training, Pip was careful to give his sister Emma the impression that Luke was the one in charge once the boys were in the changing-room.

Finally the teasing and name-calling became too much and one evening, as we have seen, Luke told his mum why he was so upset. Reluctantly Luke left it up to mum to “see what she could do.” Little did Luke realise mum would decide to make an appointment with Doctor Livesey and what that would involve...

Story Index

The eagle-eyed among you will have spotted that I have added a link to a story index which can be found on the right-hand corner of this page.

For a while now I've been aware of how unsatisfactory it is to look for an older story in the archive, so I hope readers will find the index of benefit.

Follow the link on the top right and you will be taken to the Index from which you can select a story. I have grouped stories under various headings to help you find a particular post. Click on the title and the link will take you to the story.

Luke's Appointment: Part 2

When Luke left Doctor Livesey's office he was still very upset... he was also still very nude. Hardly aware of what was happening, Luke was escorted by Nurse Pilbeam and Michelle, the attractive young intern along a corridor. Slowly Luke realised they were heading in the direction of the reception area from which he could distinctly hear the sound of voices. The waiting-room was still very busy.

"Please, nurse... where are my clothes?!" Luke said as he began to panic at the thought of being seen in the nude.

"Don't you worry about your clothes, Luke... let's get you cleaned up first..." Nurse Pilbeam replied.

"Your mum's looking after your clothes, Luke," Michelle added helpfully.

Luke stopped. Nurse Pilbeam tightened her grip on Luke's arm.

“But… please, nurse… can’t I have a gown or something?” Luke said as he stood stock-still in the corridor.

“Oh, we don’t have time for that, Luke… let’s get you cleaned up first, then we'll think about finding you a gown…”

This didn't make any sense to Luke, who thought the whole reason for getting him cleaned up was so he could get his clothes back.

“We’re just going to take you into one of the side cubicles,” Michelle assured Luke, “No one’s going to see you…”

Luke hadn’t even noticed the small cubicles which were just off the main reception area. The cubicles were simple affairs consisting of overhead rails from which hung thin three-quarter length curtains. They were mainly used when patients needed somewhere private to undress and change into gowns, although the cubicles were also used by the nurses to carry out basic examination procedures.

Michelle pointed to the cubicle they were taking Luke to and repeated her assurance that no one would see them as long as Luke didn’t dawdle in the corridor.

Luke could see the cubicle a few yards away. It was the last one, at the end of the row, just round the corner from reception and at that very moment another nurse swept in from the waiting area followed a girl of Michelle’s age with her mother who was calling to her two younger children to get a move on. Luke was trapped in the corridor, since the nurse and the family group was between him and the cubicle to which he was being taken. Nurse Pilbeam held one of his arms and Michelle the other, so Luke was unable to cover himself. Boy-stuff was still dangling from his little penis and a trail of glistening slime could be seen clearly on his legs. His tear-stained face was a portrait of misery.

“Oh… I’m sorry, Nurse Pilbeam,” the nurse said when she saw the nude Luke, “I didn’t realise you were with a patient…”

“No need to apologise… you weren’t to know,” Nurse Pilbeam replied, “We’re just taking Luke to be cleaned up… as you can you see, he’s had a little, ahem, accident during his examination with Doctor Livesey…” She leaned forward and lowered her voice, although her words could still be heard clearly, “... PE… you know what boys are when they get over excited…”

“You don’t need to tell me,” the other nurse smiled in sympathy, “... why the other day we were taking a sperm sample from a boy and we didn’t even have time to get the sample jar over his penis… mind you his penis was a lot bigger than Luke’s… a lot, lot bigger… we could hardly manage to get the boy’s penis into the sample jar it was so big...”

This conversation gave mum and the children plenty of time to take stock of Luke.

“Mum… what’s that stuff…?”

“Mum… why’s he got such a small willy…?”

Luke was appalled. No one seemed at all bothered that he was standing there bare-nude. The children continued to ask highly personal and acutely embarrassing questions that made Luke squirm. It seemed as if his inadequacies were a fit topic of public conversation, without regard to his feelings. The children’s mother didn’t even make eye contact with Luke, so little did she care about his feelings. She was more concerned that her children would get any of that ‘nasty stuff’ on their clothes as they squeezed past Luke in the corridor.

Finally Luke was taken into the small cubicle. Michelle half-heartedly pulled the thin curtains behind the three of them as she and Nurse Pilbeam set about cleaning up Luke. Luke was even more aware that just the other side of the curtain people were awaiting their appointments. He could hear clearly the sound of their voices and it followed that those in the waiting-room could hear just as clearly whatever was said in Luke’s cubicle.

“What is PE?” Michelle asked Nurse Pilbeam.

“That’s when a boy ejaculates too quickly… it means Premature Ejaculation,” Nurse Pilbeam explained, seemingly unconcerned that there was nothing but a flimsy curtain between them and the clinic waiting area. “If you recall what happened, Michelle, Doctor Livesey told Luke to stop masturbating and to put his hands back on top of his head. Normally we would expect to observe the boy maintain self-control… but as you saw, Luke was unable to stop himself from ejaculating, even though he’d taken his fingers away from his penis… sperm squirted without any physical stimulation… and that’s what we call premature ejaculation.”

Michelle nodded thoughtfully. Clearly there was much to learn.

Luke was increasingly conscious of his nude state and was about to ask Nurse Pilbeam about a gown when the curtain was jerked back. Luke’s mum stood framed in the entrance. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was furious.

“Luke Browne…!” she said at the top of her voice, “Luke Browne… I have never been so ashamed of you…!”

There was a slight pause as mum got her breath. Luke was aware of the sudden silence. The noise from the waiting-room had stopped and Luke knew that everyone was listening… waiting to hear what mum had to say. They didn’t have to wait long.

“Luke Browne… how could you stand there and… and… play with your little tiddler in front of Doctor Livesey… you know what I think about boys who play with their little tiddlers…. how many times have I had to tell you off? Luke Browne you are nineteen years old… it’s no good telling the doctor you masturbate as if you think using big words to sound clever makes it alright… well it isn’t alright…”

“... but, mummy… Doctor Livesey…” Luke said trying to get a word in… “... please, mummy… everyone will hear…” … and trying make mum understand there was a roomful of patients a few feet away listening to everything being said.

“It’s no use trying to make excuses, Luke Browne, you're the one that disgraced yourself… you’re the one who played with his little tiddler in front of the doctor and… and…”

“... ejaculated,” Nurse Pilbeam helpfully finished Mrs Browne’s sentence when it became clear Luke’s mum was unable to bring herself to say the word.

“Thank you, nurse… yes… disgraced yourself…”

Then, before Luke realised what was happening, but at the precise moment it occurred to him that mum was not carrying any of his clothes, he found himself suddenly pulled by the ear, twisted round and pushed forwards over a rubber topped bench. The stinging smacks of mum’s hand on his bare bottom made Luke gasp, but before long he was crying out unashamedly, begging mum to stop. But mum was incensed by her son’s behaviour. The harder the spanks got the louder they became and Luke, nineteen years old, ended up pleading like a little boy that he wouldn’t do it again… that he would be good… but please, mummy, please stop…

Beyond the confines of the little cubicle other mums smiled and nodded knowingly to one another. They recognised the sound of a good spanking. They knew that Luke Browne was getting just what he deserved. Fancy letting his mum down like that… and in front of the doctor too. These mums neither knew nor cared what the circumstances of Luke’s fall from grace were, but they knew that mums don’t spank their boys for nothing.

Nurse Pilbeam had seen it all before, but Michelle stood transfixed by the sight of Luke’s bottom turning red under the onslaught of mum’s tireless hand. Just when the young intern thought Luke’s spanking was over, she was astonished to see mum’s hand slide down Luke’s legs. Mum began to smack the backs of her son’s thighs and it soon became clear to Michelle that this was even more effective than a spanked bottom.

"Just you wait until I get you home, Luke Browne," mum said, reinforcing every word with a spank, "Just... you... wait. You and I are going to have a discussion about your behaviour..."

Luke begged his mum to stop.

“I’ve been far too lenient with you, Luke Browne… There are going to be some changes and for a start you are going to have a proper pyjama-time again… what on earth I thought I was doing letting you stay up late and put on your own pyjamas… I can see that a nine o’clock bedtime was far too late… well, that’s going to change…”

The spanks continued to rain down on Luke’s bottom and thighs while mum carried on with her tirade. It was an education for Michelle and she learnt all about Luke’s discipline at home under the strict control of Mrs Browne. So too did the many listeners in the waiting-room… not that this concerned Luke’s mum one little bit. As for Luke, his mind was so focussed on his blisteringly hot bottom and thighs, that he was barely aware of his audience anymore.

Mum’s spanking finally drew to a close, but she still had a few things to say to her son:

“Have you been putting your pyjamas on properly before you get into bed?”

Luke shook his head and through the tears which ran freely down his face, told mum that sometimes he didn’t button up his pyjama jacket and sometimes left it off altogether.

“Just as I thought… what about your pyjama-bottoms?” mum asked.

Luke admitted that sometimes he’d left off his pyjama-bottoms and once or twice he had even gone to bed in the nude!

Mum was beside herself… horrified at what Luke had been up to in his bedroom.

“... and is that when you started playing with your little dinky-tidler?”

Luke was so ashamed, but what could he do but admit the truth. He had been masturbating and that’s why he’d tried to be careful not to leave any evidence on his pyjamas. Damp patches and stains on a boy’s pyjamas are a sure sign to any mum that their son has been up to no good… as Luke well knew.

"Well, that silly naughtiness is going to stop right now... and from now on you are going to have proper pyjama and bed-times again... do you understand?"

"Yes, mummy..." Luke replied, more than a little meekly. Luke was once more aware of the unseen audience on the other side of the thin curtain and he only had to glance to one side to see Michelle had witnessed every painful second of his spanking. He was, of, course, still bare-nude and all Luke wanted was to be allowed to get dressed, go home and face whatever punitive measures mum proposed to put in place. But mum still wasn't finished with him.

"I should never have let you get ready for bed yourself… How any boy, let alone a boy of nineteen can think he can get away with the sort of behaviour... the sort of depraved behaviour you have seen fit to indulge in, is quite beyond me... but if you're going to behave like a little boy, then you will be treated like a little boy and..."

Luke knew what was coming and pleaded... pleaded desperately: "... oh, please...please, mummy... no... please don’t... oh no please, mummy... I won't do it ever again... please, I promise..."

"It's too late for any of that nonsense... and my mind is made up. I am putting you back into short trousers..."

"Oh, mummy... no... please don’t… not short trousers mummy..."

"Yes, Luke... I am putting you straight back into short trousers and you'd better buck your ideas up, because from now on you're not going to let out of my sight... do you understand, Luke?"

Luke hung his head. He knew mummy was right. He had been a very, very naughty boy. "Yes, mummy..." he replied.

"Ahem..." Michelle coughed to attract Mrs Browne's attention. "I couldn't help overhearing what you were saying to Luke just now..." Luke looked at Michelle and thought she would have to have had cotton wool in her ears not to overhear what his mum had said to him.

"Yes, dear," mum said in a gentle tone of voice quite at odds to the one she'd been using to address her son, "What is it?"

"Well, I couldn't help hearing you say that you were not going to let Luke out of your sight... and I was wondering if I could be of any help... I'd be happy to babysit Luke for you," Michelle said, offering her services.

Mrs Browne beamed: "I must say that is very thoughtful of you, Michelle... Isn't that thoughtful of Michelle, Luke?"

What else could Luke say? "Yes, mummy..." came the reply from the chastened boy.

"That would be a great help, Michelle, and a great weight off my mind to have such a sensible girl looking after Luke… but are you sure? Luke can be very demanding."

Nurse Pilbeam smiled and assured Mrs Browne that Michelle was one of the best and most diligent interns they’d had working at the clinic for a long time. It was Michelle’s turn to blush… but for entirely different reasons from Luke’s! However, the thought of Michelle being given the authority of a babysitter, and all that entailed, was anathema to Luke. He knew from experience what mum had planned. He knew his life wouldn’t be his own again and the last thing he wanted was a young girl such as Michelle witnessing and no doubt adding to his humiliations. Luke knew it was futile, but that didn’t stop him pleading with his mum that he didn’t need a babysitter.

“Please, mummy… I’m nineteen… I don’t need a babysitter now…”

“That is for me to decide, Luke… and on the evidence I should say that you cannot be trusted to behave yourself without one.”

“Yes, mummy…”

“... and I’m going to put Michelle in charge of your pocket-money…”

Luke’s mouth fell open as his last little bit of independence disappeared. He was about to utter a protest when he was interrupted:

“How is everything going in here?” the cheerful voice of another of the nurses was heard as she stood in the open entrance to the cubicle, “Doctor Livesey asked me to give you these clothes for Luke to wear…”

Luke took one look at what the nurse was holding and stuttered: “But… but… that’s not… they... they’re not my clothes…”

The nurse ignored Luke and continued talking to Mrs Browne: “We always have spare clothes at the clinic… in case of… well, just in case…” And with that she placed the little pile of clothes on the bench over which Luke had so recently been bent for his spanking.

“Doctor Livesey and I had a little talk,” mum explained, “and we agreed that the sooner you were brought back under control the better. I told Doctor Livesey that I thought I’d made a mistake in allowing you to wear long trousers and she agreed..."

"But, mummy..."

"Luke, will you stop interrupting me... the more you carry on, the more I am convinced you need a firm hand..."

Nurse Pilbeam offered her assistance: "Would it help if Michelle and I got Luke dressed?"

"I think you'd better had... I can see Luke is becoming fractious," mum thanked Nurse Pilbeam and then turned to face Luke once more. She wagged a finger in his face: "Any more of this silly nonsense and I'll be dusting off the discipline strap the minute I get you home... do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, mummy," Luke said and nervously reached around to rub his sore bottom. Luke had not had the dubious pleasure of an appointment with mum's discipline strap for some considerable time and he was not anxious to renew the acquaintance.

Michelle was of the opinion that not only had mum made herself perfectly clear to Luke, she had also made herself loud and clear to just about everyone else in the clinic. Nurse Pilbeam caught Michelle’s eye and nodded in the direction of the little pile of clothes. Michelle moved over towards the bench and examined the clothes Luke would soon be wearing. Michelle was taken aback at how infantile they were; a tiny pair of shortalls which wouldn’t have been quite so noticeable if they hadn’t been made of a sort of light pink synthetic plush-velvet embroidered with sunflowers and daisies. Michelle held the shortalls up and was puzzled to find that despite the ludicrously childish and extremely brief design, they looked to be a perfectly adequate size for the tall, lanky nineteen year old Luke.

“Oh… aren’t they sweet?” Michelle said as she held them up in front of Luke to confirm that indeed she and Nurse Pilbeam would have no trouble putting Luke into his new outfit.

Luke was horrified. He hadn’t set eyes on anything as humiliating as the shortalls Michelle was holding up in a long time, not since… and Luke shuddered at the memory… not since the sailor-suit his aunty had made for him. Luke had been fourteen at the time and although the sailor-suit (which had featured a style of shorts popular at the time and known as hot-pants) had been made for him to wear at a wedding, Luke found himself being made to wear the sailor-suit at every possible opportunity. Whenever Luke and his mum went visiting he would be sure to hear the words: “...just pop upstairs, Luke and put on your nice sailor-suit… Mrs Gaumont asked to see you wearing it especially…”

Luke was only a few days short of his sixteenth birthday when he’d last worn his sailor-suit. It was still hanging up in his wardrobe. As Luke now realised, mum had left the sailor-suit there for a purpose, which was to remind him to behave himself, something he’d singly failed to do. Mum had also left the single-strap maryjanes which Luke hated and thought looked so effeminate, particularly when worn with very girly lace trimmed white ankle socks. But aunty had insisted they were a perfect match for the outfit and poo-pooed any suggestion from Luke that they made him look like a sissy. It was probably fortunate Luke had such smooth legs, but perhaps that’s why he complained so much about the shortness of the shorts as well as the little lacy ankle socks, since these immediately drew everyone's attention to Luke’s legs. Even at the age of nineteen Luke still had perfectly smooth legs and hardly any body-hair… even less now that Nurse Pilbeam and Michelle had removed his pubic hair!

Luke’s sixteenth birthday had been marked by his transition into long trousers. This rite of passage, so eagerly awaited, had been delayed for reasons not altogether clear to Luke. When all around him boys were permitted longs at ever younger ages, mum had resolutely kept Luke in short trousers for longer than all of Luke’s contemporaries. And now, as Luke stood bare-nude in the confined space of the cubicle at Doctor Livesey’s clinic, mum had told him that he was to be put back into short trousers! He wondered what else was in store for him. Luke was only too well aware his mum would have had plenty of time to talk to Doctor Livesey about his ‘problems’.

And of course Luke was quite correct. Doctor Livesey expressed her concerns about the smallness of Luke’s penis; how she felt that this was the cause of his anxiety when he was required to be fully nude in the company of younger boys, all of whom by the sound of it, were far better endowed than Luke.

“We may as well face it, Mrs Browne, Luke’s penis is humiliatingly small,” Doctor Livesey observed, “How on earth anyone can manage to keep a straight face when they see that sad little button peeking out from between his legs, I’ve no idea. I think it says a lot for Michelle that she maintained a professional composure far beyond my expectations… that young lady will do well should she decide to stay with us here at the clinic.”

“However, I do feel that I owe you an apology, Mrs Browne, for encouraging Luke to masturbate, but I plead professional curiosity. I was intrigued to observe how a boy with such a tiny little penis masturbated. I confess that when I saw how Luke could only manage to stimulate himself with a thumb and one finger, I nearly burst out laughing myself… those little jerks of his wrist made him look so ridiculous… and then, in the end, he was completely unable to control himself…”

“I’m sorry about that, doctor,” Mrs Brown said, “Luke was very naughty to… to… let himself do it...” she paused and shuddered, “Quite disgusting… He won’t be doing that again in a hurry…”

“You mustn’t apologise, Mrs Browne. I’m sure that Luke just got himself worked up about everything… the teasing… his examination… the need to remove his pubic hair… and I suspect that if you are as vigilant as I feel sure you are, Luke would have had very little opportunity to play with his little penis before he came for his appointment today.”

“I try my best, Doctor Livesey… but I’m sure any mother will tell you, you have to be vigilant… there’s no escaping the fact that… well, I don’t have to spell it out to you, doctor, but boys will be boys…” Mrs Browne said and then reflected, “Perhaps I have been too lenient with Luke of late… giving him small privileges, allowing him to wear long trousers…”

“Quite so, Mrs Browne,” Doctor Livesey agreed, “I’m sure I can rely on you to keep a close watch on Luke, but in the meantime, we need to address the cause of his problem… why he is presenting all the symptoms of extreme anxiety. I think Luke needs our help to enable him to confront these anxieties…”

“What do you suggest, doctor?” Mrs Browne asked.

“I’m very much of the opinion that Luke has developed a neurosis… he sees a younger boy with a penis that is longer and altogether much larger than his own and this triggers a reaction which manifests itself through envy and shame… envy of the young boy standing in front of him with a bigger penis and shame of his own much smaller penis. Of course in his position at the swimming club Luke is being constantly exposed to boys, younger than himself, who have noticeably longer penises. If you remember, Mrs Browne, I asked your son specifically whether there were any boys at the club whose penis was as small as his own… and he told us that there were none. Now, with a boy like Luke who has become fixated by the small size of his own penis, this contact simply reinforces his already fragile ego to such an extent that Luke, bizarre as it may seem, actually feels himself to be unworthy of the position he holds at the swimming club... and underlying this behaviour is Luke's belief that it is the younger boys who should be in charge of him, not he of them…”

“I beg your pardon, doctor…?”

“Put it another way, Luke with his small penis, believes himself to be inferior to the younger boy with the larger penis… in fact Luke views himself, having a small penis, as an immature little boy and he wants to be treated like a little boy…”

Doctor Livesey continued: “It is my view that while Luke’s involvement with the boys’ swimming club undoubtedly has its benefits, it is his close contact with the young boys and the associated responsibilities that has led to a re-emergence of his latent insecurities…”

“Is there anything we can do?” Mrs Browne asked.

“I would strongly suggest you start by admonishing Luke for his behaviour today,” Doctor Livesey said, “We need to send your son a strong signal that we understand his needs and that can only be achieved by treating him as a little boy again. He needs his mummy to tell him what to do and how to behave…”

The scales fell from Mrs Browne's eyes and she thanked the doctor for her time and left the office. With a renewed sense of purpose Mrs Browne walked down the corridor towards the cubicle where Luke was being cleaned up after disgracing himself in front of Doctor Livesey, his mum, Nurse Pilbeam and Michelle.

 *

Luke was at last dressed. He had been horrified when he saw the shortalls, singlet and red plastic play-sandals, but after the severe talking-to and spanking from his mum, Luke was in no position to argue with Nurse Pilbeam as she and Michelle put him into his new clothes.

Then all Luke had to do was walk back out through the busy waiting-room and wait while his mum talked to the receptionist. As Luke did so he could feel everyone’s eyes upon him. He was conscious not only of his infantile clothes, but also the red marks of his spanking clearly visible on the backs of his thighs. But most of all Luke stood there knowing everyone looking at him had heard every word spoken while he was in the cubicle.