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From: "terry schulz" <schulzie@hotmail.com>
Subject: Schulzie's "Take Your Daughter to Work Day" PART ONE
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"Take Your Daughter To Work Day" (MFf; teen; cons; mast; anal; voy?)

PART ONE

by Schulzie

Carl Walters took the thermometer out of his mouth and read it. 102 
degrees. Being sick in a strange hotel in a strange city was not his 
idea of how to spend a day off while on a business trip. He had hoped to 
use the day to do some sightseeing and shopping before giving his sales 
pitch tomorrow. But late last night, Carl began to experience nausea and 
pain in his lower abdomen. Then, in the middle of the night, he broke 
out in a sweat. Early the next morning, suspecting a fever, he walked to 
the corner drug store that was only a block away from the hotel to buy 
the thermometer.

Carl knew he needed to see a doctor for treatment, but he sure as hell 
wasn't going to go to the hospital emergency room. He'd wind up sitting 
there half the day to pay an arm and a leg just to hear some intern from 
some foreign country tell him to take two aspirins and drink plenty of 
fluids. Fuck that!

Instead, he decided to hook his laptop computer up to the data jack on 
the telephone in his room, go online, and see if he could find a 
physician's referral website on the Net. After clicking on a few links 
through the search engine, Carl found a site called Online Doctors 
Referral. Looking over the index, he clicked on a link to choose the 
city and medical specialty. About a dozen listings came up. He looked 
over the list to find a doctor nearby. Not knowing the town very well, 
the last thing he wanted to do was get lost trying to find the doctor's 
office. Finding four doctors whose offices were nearby, Carl jotted down 
their addresses and telephone numbers and began to make calls to see if 
he could get an appointment as soon as possible. The first number was a 
washout. The receptionist told him that the doctor did not see 
out-of-town or transient patients and suggested he go to the emergency 
room or one of the clinics in town. No luck with the second number 
either. The doctor didn't have office hours that day. Maybe the third 
time's the charm, Carl thought to himself as he dialed the next number.

It was.

"Yes, I think we can get you in to see Dr. Young? Can you be here at 
9:30?" said the receptionist.

Scribbling quickly, Carl wrote down directions to the doctor's office on 
the hotel stationary.

"When you get to the corner of Willis and 3rd Street," the receptionist 
explained, "turn right, and look for the sign that says A.J. Young, MD', 
on the left side of the street."

"Thank you," Carl said, hanging up. Then he headed for the bathroom to 
take a shower. Getting dressed, he stuffed the directions to the 
doctor's office in his shirt pocket, grabbed his keys, and headed for 
the hotel garage in the basement. It only took him about a half-hour to 
get to Dr. Young's office. Once there, he parked the car, and entered 
the front door of the building.

Inside, he was greeted by the receptionist, the same receptionist he had 
spoken to earlier on the phone. She handed him some forms to fill out; 
medical history, insurance forms. etc. In what seemed like only a few 
minutes, a matronly, gray-haired nurse came out to the waiting area and 
asked him to follow her down the hall to one of the examination rooms. 
Once there, the nurse went through the usual pre-examination routine: 
took his temperature, blood pressure, asked him his symptoms, wrote 
everything down on his chart.  

"Here. Remove all your clothes, place them on the chair over there, and 
put this on," said the nurse. Then she handed him one of those flimsy, 
little, blue examination gowns that stays open in the back. Carl just 
rolled his eyes. I could have gone to the hospital if I had wanted to 
wear one of these, he thought to himself. As the nurse left the 
examination room, she turned to him and said, "Dr. Young will be in 
shortly to see you."

Carl began to take his clothes off in the corner of the room next to the 
chair. The room temperature was a little on the chilly side and he was 
not looking forward to sitting and waiting in the cold room with nothing 
on but the paper gown the nurse had given him to wear. Down to his 
boxers, Carl tried to remember what the nurse said. Did she say take off 
ALL my clothes? Realizing that she HAD said that, he slipped off the 
boxers, throwing them on top of his other clothes on the chair. What the 
hell, he thought. As long as the doctor isn't some flaming fag, no big 
deal. Then he went over and sat on the edge of the examination table. 
Even with the protective paper covering the table, he could feel the 
coolness on his exposed ass. Then he sat and waited.

In about 15 minutes, the door to the examination room opened, and in 
walked the doctor. Carl couldn't believe his eyes. She was the most 
beautiful doctor he had ever seen. He had not expected the doctor to be 
a woman. Carl did not consider himself sexist. He had nothing against 
women being doctors. But in his mind, he knew that most doctors, even in 
this day and age, were men. And the name on the sign out front gave no 
clue as to her gender. It only said: "A.J. Young, MD" which had conjured 
up in his mind the image of some old, silver-haired family doctor. But 
what stood before him was not a silver-haired old man. No sir. This was 
a gorgeous auburn-haired vixen, standing about five feet, five inches 
tall, with a slender frame.  In spite of her slender build, Carl could 
see that under her lab-coat, she had a shapely figure, with an ample 
bosom and perfectly rounded hips. All of this was topped off with the 
face of an angel: dark-green eyes, a slightly turned-up nose, and full, 
luscious lips and skin with a clean, clear complexion.

"Good morning...Carl, is it?" she asked, glancing down at his chart. 
"Hi, I'm Amy Young." Stepping over toward the examination table, she 
extended her hand to him, shaking his hand firmly, yet not too firmly. 
It was a business-like handshake, but still very feminine. Her smile was 
warm and friendly, indicative of a good bedside manner. Carl immediately 
began to wonder what her "in-bed" manner was like. I'll bet she's a hot 
little tiger in bed, he thought.

But no sooner had he finished taking in all of Dr. Young's physical 
charms when, following the beautiful doctor into the room, was a cute 
little young teenaged girl. Carl looked at the girl and thought the 
youngster had wandered into the examination room by mistake.

"Carl, this is my daughter, Courtney. Courtney, say hello to Mr. 
Walters."

"Hi," said Courtney, a little shyly.

Carl sat there puzzled. What was she doing in the examination room?

"Carl, I hope you don't mind. Today is 'Take Your Daughter to Work' day. 
You've heard about that, haven't you? Once every year, working mothers 
are encouraged to take their daughters to work with them, to let the 
girls see their moms out in the world, contributing to society. It's 
supposed to help build girls' sense of worth and self-esteem. I thought 
Courtney might benefit from shadowing me today, to see what a typical 
day is like for a doctor."

Carl didn't know what to say. The girl had just walked in 30 seconds 
ago, and he hadn't taken his eyes off of her. She was as beautiful as 
her mother. In fact, she was almost a clone of her mom, same features on 
that little angelic face. Long auburn hair cascading down from the top 
of her head, same eyes, same nose, same full lips. Looking at her, Carl 
figured she had to be about 13 or 14 years old, tops. She was almost as 
tall as her mother, and well on the way to developing a body just as 
gorgeous as her mom's. In her hand, Courtney was holding a spiral 
notebook.

"You don't mind if Courtney observes the examination, do you?", said Dr. 
Young.

The full meaning of Dr. Young's request hadn't hit Carl yet. He was too 
busy admiring the strikingly good looks of both mother and daughter.

"Of course, if you object, I'd understand."

Now, it hit him. The doctor was asking if her teenaged daughter could 
remain in the room while she poked and probed his body. Carl wasn't sure 
how thorough of an examination the doctor had planned for him, but if 
the nurse had told him to remove all of his clothing, then surely Dr. 
Young planned to examine him all over. Being nude in front of a woman 
doctor was one thing. He assumed she intended to act in a most 
professional manner. There would be no funny business. Even so, he kind 
of liked the idea of being naked in front of this beautiful female 
physician. Carl had a damn good body for a 35 year old man. He kept 
himself in shape, and didn't mind showing off his physique. He certainly 
didn't object to the idea of displaying his body to Amy Young, MD. But 
he wasn't so sure about being nude in front of such a young teenaged 
girl.

"But Courtney is a very bright, mature girl for her age. She wants to 
follow in my footsteps and go into medicine. She loves to look through 
my medical journals, and you'd be surprised how much she knows. 
Sometimes I quiz her, making up questions about an imaginary patient's 
symptoms, and more often than not, her diagnosis is highly accurate."

My, she is bright, Carl thought to himself. But bright or not, it didn't 
seem right that such a young woman should stay in the same room while 
her mother examined a male patient. On the other hand, Carl was grateful 
to get in to see Dr. Young on such short notice, especially since he was 
not a regular patient of hers and being from out-of-town and all. And if 
Courtney was as bright and mature as her mother claimed she was, maybe 
it would be alright. A little embarrassing perhaps, but nothing he 
couldn't get over.

"Okay, " Carl told her, "I guess it will be alright."

Both mother and daughter smiled. "Thanks, Carl. I appreciate your 
willingness to go along with this," said Dr. Young. "Courtney, why don't 
you close the door, and sit down on that stool over here."

As Courtney went to close the door to the examination room, Carl stole a 
quick peek at her cute, little ass. Damn, she's gonna be a little 
heartbreaker some day, he thought to himself. He watched her again as 
she walked over to the stool near the exam table.

"Now Carl, I see that the nurse didn't record your height or weight on 
your chart here. Did she forget to take your height and weight?" the 
doctor asked.

"I guess she forgot," replied Carl.

"Well, let's get you on the scale over there and check them out, huh?"

As soon as Carl stepped down off the table, he realized that when he 
walked over to the scales, he would be directly across the room from 
where Courtney was sitting. The open back of the exam gown would expose 
his ass to her. Oh well, she's probably going to see more before this 
exam is over, he reasoned. Besides, it's just my ass.

Carl tried his best to maintain a little modesty as he walked toward the 
scale by attempting to reach behind him and holding the gown closed. But 
he soon realized it wasn't doing much good, and gave it up as a bad job.

"Okay, Carl, step up here and let me adjust the scale," said the doctor. 
Carl stepped up on the platform and as he did, he took a quick glance 
over his shoulder at Courtney behind him. She was looking at his ass 
peeking out from the gap in the gown. Then she wrote something down in 
her spiral notebook.

"Let's see," Dr. Young said, looking at the scale, "196 pounds." She 
wrote that down on his chart. "And let's see what your height is, shall 
we?" She brought the measuring device up level to the top of his head. 
"72 inches...6 feet exactly. Okay, fine. Now, back up on the table, 
please."

Stepping down off the scale, turning to head back to the exam table, 
Carl noticed that Courtney was still scribbling away in her notebook. 
Wonder what she's writing, Carl pondered.

"Now, the nurse wrote here on your chart that you came here complaining 
of a fever, nausea and lower abdominal pain, is that right?" asked the 
doctor. Carl explained the symptoms he was having, when they started, 
and how he was feeling now.

"Have you had a bowel movement in the past 24 hours, Carl?"

"Yesterday morning," he replied, "but not since then. Why? Do you think 
I'm constipated?"

"I doubt it," said Dr. Young. "Just curious. Tell me, do you feel like 
you need to move your bowels now?"

"Yes," he said. "I tried to go this morning, but no dice." He paused and 
looked at the doctor apprehensively. "You're not going to give me an 
enema, are you?"

Dr. Young just laughed. "No, Carl, I don't think that's going to be 
necessary."

Carl breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't like enemas, and the idea of 
anybody, especially a woman - whether it was Dr. Young or that old maid 
of a nurse - giving him an enema turned him off altogether. And if Dr. 
Young DID give him an enema with Courtney present, he knew he would die 
of embarrassment for sure.

Dr. Young put her stethoscope in her ears and loosened the strings on 
the back of Carl's exam gown. "Carl, I'm going to listen to your chest 
and abdomen, so let's let this gown drop down to your lap, okay?"

And so, the gown fell to Carl's lap and there he sat, almost totally 
naked in front of the woman doctor and her teenaged daughter. Courtney 
had still been jotting down notes in her notebook, but then set it down 
on the stool and got up to stand by her mother.

Dr. Young put the end of the stethoscope to Carl's back first, and 
listened to his lungs. "I want you to take deep breaths for me, Carl." 
Carl complied with her request, as she moved the stethoscope around on 
his back, listening to the upper and lower parts of his lungs.

"Do you mind if Courtney listens, too?" the doctor asked him.

"No," said Carl, "that's okay with me."

Dr. Young handed Courtney the stethoscope to her daughter, and had Carl 
repeat the deep breathing again as Courtney listened to his lungs as her 
mother had done. When she was finished, Courtney asked, "Mr. Walters? Do 
you smoke? Your history doesn't say anything about you having asthma or 
any lung disease, and I thought I heard some wheezing."

I'll be damned, Carl thought. "Yes, I do smoke. About half a pack a 
day."

"Isn't she something?" asked Dr. Young, beaming at her daughter with 
pride.

She certainly is, thought Carl.

"Now, let's listen to your heart. Just breathe normally, Carl," she 
said, taking the stethoscope back from Courtney. Dr. Young moved the end 
of the stethoscope around to listen to each chamber of Carl's heart, 
then handed the stethoscope to Courtney for her to listen.

"Well, honey?" the doctor asked her daughter.

"Everything sounds normal to me, Mom," she answered.

"Sure does," replied Dr. Young.

Amazing, Carl thought. This kid is well on her way to getting a 
scholarship to a medical school.

"Carl, we're going to examine your abdomen. Why don't you lay back on 
the table?"

Carl repositioned himself on the table, reclining, trying to keep the 
gown from falling to the floor.

"Here, let me help you with that," said the doctor. As Carl laid back, 
Dr. Young placed the gown over his  groin area, just barely covering his 
pubic hair. Then she took the stethoscope and listened to his internal 
organs while probing and poking his lower abdomen with her fingers.

"Does it hurt when I push here?" asked the doctor.

"No," said Carl.

"What about here?"

Again, Carl indicated no pain. Then he watched as, once again, Dr. Young 
handed the stethoscope to her daughter. "What do you think about his 
liver, Courtney?"

The young teen seemed to know what she was doing. He poked at him a few 
times, then listened with the stethoscope.

"His liver seems to be secreting normally. Good response to finger 
pressure. No signs of abnormally soft tissue or lumps, "said Courtney.

"That's right," said the doctor.

Carl couldn't get over this young girl. It was as though she already had 
a medical degree. She acted as though she was an intern working under 
the tutelage of her mother.

Dr. Young wrote down a few notes on her chart while Courtney wrote 
something down in her notebook.

"Carl," said Dr. Young, "I see nothing wrong with your gastro-intestinal 
tract. Everything seems normal there. At first, I suspected 
appendicitis, but you don't seem sensitive in that area. I may ask for a 
blood test later just to be safe. If you have a high white blood count, 
I can't rule it out totally. But for now, I need to check something 
else."

Carl was relieved that Dr. Young was pretty sure his appendix was okay. 
An operation might put him out of commission for a few weeks, not to 
mention keeping him from earning his sales commissions. He looked down 
at Courtney who was sitting on the stool next to the table. She was 
still writing something in her notebook, seemingly oblivious to what was 
going on. That is, until her mother made the next statement.

"Carl, I need to check you for a hernia. I'd like you to get up off the 
table and stand right here," said the doctor. Courtney's ears perked up, 
and she looked at her mother, then at Carl.

Carl was a bit apprehensive about what was coming next, but if she 
needed to check him for a hernia, then he didn't have much of a choice. 
He swung his legs over the side of the table, then stepped down gently 
onto the floor, right next to Courtney sitting on the stool. He stood 
there, clutching the exam gown in front of his crotch.

"Carl, I'm afraid I can't check you for a hernia with you holding the 
gown in front of you like that. Just put it on the table."

Gulping slightly, Carl put the gown on the table. Now he stood there, 
totally naked, completely exposed, not just to a beautiful female 
doctor, but her young teenaged daughter, as well.

Courtney was sitting on the stool, right next to where Carl was 
standing. Her head was practically right at the same level as his dick, 
and she was looking at it intently as it hung there, limp. Thank God, 
it's limp, thought Carl, grateful that his cock wasn't standing there 
erect in front of Courtney.

Courtney couldn't take her eyes off Carl's penis, her face only two feet 
away.

"Courtney, Mom needs to use the stool. Why don't you get up and stand 
near the table next to Mr. Walters, okay?" said Dr, Young.

Courtney got up and stood just to the left of Carl who was leaning 
against the table. With notebook and pen in hand, Courtney was 
scribbling frantically. Carl tried to look over to see what she was 
writing, but he was quickly distracted by Dr. Young who sat down on the 
stool directly in front of him.

"Carl, my hands are a little cold, so I'm going to rub them a little bit 
to warm them up. I think you'd appreciate that." As the doctor sat there 
in front of him, briskly rubbing her hands together, Carl noticed that 
Courtney had stopped writing in her notebook, and was paying close 
attention to her mom. Her eyes zeroed in on her mother's right hand as 
the doctor reached out and put her hand under Carl's scrotal sac, 
cupping his testicles.

"Carl, turn your head and cough, please," said Dr. Young.

Carl hesitated for a minute. Even though he knew what was coming, and 
saw the doctor reaching out to take his balls in her hand, he was 
unprepared for the sensation of her soft hand touching his scrotum and 
tenderly lifting his testes up. Finally, after a few seconds, he 
complied.

"Again, please."

The softness and warmth of a woman's hand on his balls sent a shiver up 
his spine, making his cock twitch just a little bit. He coughed again.

"And once more," said Dr. Young.

With that first twitch of his flaccid dick, hanging only an inch away 
from the sweet doctor's hand, Carl was nervous, hoping he was not going 
to get an erection in front of the doctor and - worse yet - her 
daughter, who remained standing right next to Carl as her mother held 
the man's balls in her hand.

"Well, Carl. You'll be happy to know you don't have a hernia," Dr. Young 
informed him. At that moment, the doctor and her daughter looked at each 
other. The eye contact between them was intense and direct. Dr. Young 
looked at her daughter, then up at Carl, then back at Courtney. Some 
secret message seemed to have been communicated between the two of them.

"Carl? I know this is going to sound like a strange request, but..." Dr. 
Young paused, hesitant to finish her question. Plucking up the courage, 
she continued. "You see, Courtney has learned a lot about medicine and 
anatomy over the past few years, and I try to teach her things so she 
can gain experience to give her an edge in the future."

"You seemed to have done a marvelous job so far, from what I can tell, 
Dr. Young," said Carl.

"Thank you, but in all her experience, I've never let her conduct a 
hernia check before. Would I be asking too much if I asked you to let 
Courtney check you for a hernia?"

Carl was in shock. Here was this woman, an obviously competent doctor, 
asking him if it was okay to let her daughter, just barely a teenager, 
to check him for a hernia. She wanted him to let a young girl take his 
balls in her hand, letting his scrotum rest on her fingers, just so she 
could gain medical experience. His first impulse was to say "no," this 
might be going too far. It didn't seem right. Certainly, it wasn't 
ethical. Yet, as he looked at Courtney, her eyes looking up at him, 
almost begging, his attitude softened. The girl was obviously gifted and 
intelligent, and there was no doubt in his mind that the teenager was 
going to be a marvelous doctor when she grew up. What the hell, he 
thought. Things have gone this far. One more thing won't make a 
difference.

"Sure, I suppose it would be okay. Anything for medical science," Carl 
said, jokingly.

A smile came on Courtney's face as her mother rose from the stool and 
let the young teen sit down. Carl studied the girl's face. Her eyes were 
wide and she had a huge grin on her face. He assumed that she was really 
happy to add another diagnostic procedure to her repertoire.

"Okay, Courtney," said Dr. Young, "I want you to take your hand, place 
it under his scrotal sac, lift it gently so your fingertips are pressed 
up as far back beyond his scrotum near his perineum, and so his testes 
are resting on your fingers near your palm."

The girl started to reach her hand out toward Carl's balls as her mother 
had instructed her when Dr. Young cautioned her. "Now be very gentle. 
Men are very sensitive there. You don't want to hurt him by squeezing 
his testicles."

Courtney stopped and shot her mother a look. "I KNOW that, Mom," she 
said, continuing to reach for Carl's scrotum. Ever so carefully, she put 
her right hand underneath his sac and lifted them like her mother told 
her. Once again, Carl felt that wonderful sensation coursing through his 
nervous system at Courtney's first touch of his balls. And again, he 
felt his cock twitch, a natural reaction to the stimulation he was 
receiving having his genitals touch by a female hand - a young, pretty 
girl's hand. And just like last time, his fear of getting an erection 
was just as strong, if not stronger, especially since his balls were now 
in the hands of this young teenaged girl.

Courtney paused as her mother explained exactly what an inguinal hernia 
was, how it could be checked this way, and what a doctor should expect 
to feel if a man has a hernia. The entire time Dr. Young was explaining 
hernias to her daughter, Courtney had taken her forefinger and was 
gently tickling the tiny hairs on Carl's scrotal sac. The combination of 
the girl's warm, gentle touch, the sensation of her finger tracing 
little circles ever so lightly on his scrotum, and the entire situation 
itself was starting to excite Carl. His cock twitched again, and he 
could feel blood beginning to fill the erectile tissue in his penis.

"Now, since Carl doesn't have a hernia, when he coughs, you should feel 
his testes jump inside his scrotum and immediately fall back in place. 
So, are you ready to see if you can feel them do that?"

"Yes, I'm ready," Courtney answered.

Carl wasn't so sure HE was ready. All of the stimulation from Courtney's 
hand and fingers was causing his dick to grow. Even though it was still 
mostly soft and hanging downwards, there was no mistaking what he was 
feeling. He knew his cock was beginning to get hard and erect, and it 
would only be a matter of seconds before it would start to rise and 
eventually point skyward.

"Here we go, Courtney," said Dr. Young. "Carl, turn your head and cough, 
please."

Carl did, and as he coughed, not only did his balls jump, but his penis 
began to rise.

"Did you feel his testes jump, honey?" Dr. Young asked her daughter.

"I'm not sure, Mom. Can we try again?"

"Again, Carl?"

Once more, Carl turned his head and coughed. His balls jumped and his 
dick rose just a little more.

"Well?" asked Dr. Young.

"I felt them that time, Mom. That's interesting the way they do that."

Just then, Courtney pointed to Carl's dick and said, "Look, Mother. Look 
at Mr. Walters' penis."


Continued in PART TWO

Stories by Schulzie specializes in stories about teens, incest, 
exhibitionism, voyuerism, masturbation and oral sex.

http://www.mrdouble.com/htm/authors/schulzie.htm





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