A disclaimer for the audience. The topic of this autobiographical short story is of childhood sexuality. It is presented in a light manner to be entertaining for a story.
|The Hyper Sexual Boy (author) 1967|
A boy's life never ends nor does the sexuality of the boy, or of the man who was that boy. In adulthood with his environment changed around him, the similarities of the childhood are surrounding him, because he and his friends have spent their lives to build that world in their way. His stories of childhood lessons become the guidelines for adult play. So he grows to be an adult but remains a child at heart, a child at heart whose sexuality is now fully developed, and can be fully explored.
- The End.
When I was five years old I lived in a beautiful small town in
, a town of mostly poor people who
had moved into former military housing apartment complexes in the suburbs
outlying Maryland . The buildings still stand today. I
was a strange kid although appearing as any neighborhood normal small boy. I
looked like the missing identical twin to little Ron Howard who was appearing
on television weekly on the television show Mayberry R.F.D. I suffered
Hyperactivity Attention Deficit Disorder and had moderate Dyslexia. I was also
a bad kid, a troublemaker, an early anti-authoritarian who frequently during
any school day was sent to visit the Principle's Office for my disruptive and
often outlandishly inappropriate, even nasty bad mouthed behavior. Washington D.C.
I was also the most sexually curious five year old boy one could imagine. I loved girls and adult women in a sexual perspective before my testicles had even begun to descend. I would urge my mother to bring me with her to the beauty parlor, to be surrounded by women, to smell them, and watch their breasts move and jiggle. I was hard-wired for pursuing sex and this apparently genetic disposition began outwardly showing symptoms before attending kindergarten.
The old apartment buildings, of this boy's town, were situated between wild wooded lots, expanses of woods near every home, for children to play in, to imagine anything within the wooded glens, the oasis's of natural privacy from parents, but all still within earshot of mother's many calls of names to come for lunch and dinner. It was land where a child of my age could equate to Winnie the Pooh's Three Acre Wood, throughout old
. Usually with all the other boys in
the neighborhood, playing Army with sticks that looked like machine guns was
the most time consuming fun in the woods. Greenbelt Maryland
But one perfect summer day I built the Doctor's Office on a hillside in a small area of woods about fifty feet from an apartment building, in a bright but shady area of the woods that were only sparsely populated by trees. I laid-out the floor plan of the office with large branches and logs, and I raked all the leaves and debris and twigs out of each pretend office area. The entry, the waiting room, and the all important exam room were clearly illustrated on the soft and dry floor of the woods, and this made it easy for a five year old to suspend disbelief and immerse themselves in the role-playing character of a child at the doctor's office. And easy for me to immerse into the character of Doctor, the only doctor! Right away as if without any consideration for fairness to the sexes of my childhood friends, I discriminated in my clientele, and only girls were allowed to play doctor's office with me. Besides most of the boys didn't really like the game anyway, and they went off and played army.
|The "red devil" mercury anus thermometer.|
It was the thermometers that got me into trouble and caused the abrupt shut-down of my clinic after a successful one week run in the neighborhood. It was the thermometers that cause me to remember this story. That one week of full operation of the pretend clinic was a time period in which I "saw" about a dozen little girls for medical inspection. I guess it was my own developed toddler's erotic fetish for having my temperature checked by my mother, or by the nurse at a medical visit, by insertion of the six inch long and thin glass tube containing mercury into my anus. It wasn't just the ever so slight stimulation to my butt-hole when getting the temperature checked in this manner that I liked, it was then always being told, nay warned, after insertion to "hold it in!" and "to wait" several minutes for accuracy before taking it back out that made the experience totally erotic for me. It must have been this fetish that inspired me, the new red-headed hyperactive Doctor in the woods, to make standard procedure, to be done almost right-away, the insertion of small sticks and twigs into the anuses of young neighborhood girls to check their temperatures. It was a fascinating and exciting erotic obsession for that one week and I enjoyed immensely, and I should note that the girls loved it too and several were repeat clients during the day, many feeling the same early erotica I did in this role play.
Now that I think about it, it was that little slut Doris, age five, that ruined the whole operation! I just thought she needed a little extra medical attention and so in the spirit of Marcus Welby M.D., a daytime medical drama in the nineteen-sixties, I went out on a limb and made the medical decision that
Doris would need to keep the thermometer
in her for the entire evening, " . .it would be best . . it's my prescription!" A few hours later
she got busted by her parents at dinner, after squirming in her chair a
little too much, she must have had too much stick - sticking out (if you know
what I mean) and she admitted to her mother her thermometer possession, and she
got a spanking and never played with me again.
The following morning after the bust my mother got a visit and a talking to from
Doris' mother, a type of visit and
reprimand my mother had actually grown used to with me. It was the "you
need to do more to control your son . ." talk from one defensive and angry
mother to the mother of the perpetrator. I went out to "the office"
that morning to find that Doris' father had destroyed the whole thing, my walls
were gone, thrown distances into the woods, leafy debris everywhere, the clinic
was shut down. "Parents have to ruin everything!" I yelled into the
sky, alone in the woods, a doctor without his clinic.
But I swear to the god Testosterone that the Nasty Doctor of Old Greenbelt Maryland shall one day rise again. And I would bet there are grown women out-there (big Doris's) ready to be clients for an hour or two in a new modern office with real equipment and a good OBGYN exam table with stirrups and restraints! Maybe I'm ready to be the patient now? -
- The End.