I had been communicating with Dr. Johnson for several weeks via e-mail. We became acquainted with each other when I responded to a medical fetish personal ad he had posted.

After many e-mail exchanges about my background, fantasies, likes, dislikes and limits we had arranged a time for my initial examination. Dr. Johnson had not shared the details of my upcoming exam only that it would be based on information I shared with him and, while pushing me, he would respect the limits I had outlined.

The night before my appointment, Dr. Johnson sent me an e-mail containing several forms to fill out prior to my appointment as well as directions to the “clinic” located at his house. I had never done anything like this before and the whole process was incredibly exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Just printing out the forms gave me a knot in my stomach—the same feeling I had when I was a little kid and was doing something I knew I shouldn’t be doing but did it anyway.

The medical history form was very detailed and covered diet and exercise, childhood illnesses and vaccinations as well as an embarrassing section of questions on ‘sexual health’. I filled the forms out and tried to go to sleep. Sleep did not come easily that night and I woke up at least three or four times with my heart racing as I thought about my upcoming appointment.

After a very non-productive day at my office, I went home, took a shower and changed clothes to get ready for my appointment. Dr. Johnson’s farmhouse was just outside the city limits and the drive took about thirty minutes with traffic. I parked my car and rang the doorbell at the side door of the house leading into the utility room.

A minute or two later a young Hispanic guy came out of the house and opened the door. He seemed way too young to be the doctor.

“Jonathan Finney?” he asked as he held the door open.

“That’s me,” I responded.

“Hi,” he said as he smiled widely “I’m Jose. Follow me and we’ll go downstairs to the clinic.” Jose was a big muscular guy. His arms and pecs bulged out from underneath the white undershirt and blue scrub top he was wearing.

I followed Jose back to into the house and down the steep stairs into the basement. We entered into a hallway with several different doors leading off of it. The area smelled of fresh paint and was brightly lit with white fluorescent lights. It had been outfitted to look like a real medical clinic. Jose had me sit down at a station where he took my blood pressure, temperature and pulse and recorded everything on my chart.

“Did you complete the history forms Dr. Johnson sent you?” Jose asked. I dug the forms out of my pocket and handed them to him. I sat there silently as Jose reviewed the forms then placed them in my chart.

“OK follow me,” he said as he walked over and opened the heavy oak door with a blue and white ‘Restroom’ sign on it and turned on the bathroom light.

I followed Jose into the bathroom and watched him open a cabinet above the toilet. He removed a urine container with an orange lid along with a small white packet.

“Clean the head of your penis with the wipe, urinate into the cup up to the line then finish urinating into the toilet,” Jose said as he handed me the container and leaned up against the wall holding my chart.

“I’m good, thanks.” I said trying to give him the hint he could leave.

“The doctor requires an observed collection to ensure the sample has not been tampered with,” Jose said bluntly as he stood there with his arms folded waiting for me to go.

“OK then,” I said as I set the urine cup and wipe on the toilet tank, undid my pants and pulled my penis out of my shorts. There was no way I could do this, I thought. I was so pee shy. Even though my back was to him it still felt weird. I cleaned my penis with the wipe then tried to start to pee. I tried to go but just couldn’t. Finally, after standing there for like a minute, I commented to Jose, “Sorry, just pee shy, just give me a minute more.”

“Take your time,” he replied calmly like this was a common occurrence.

I tried to relax and focus on letting it out and, after what seemed like an eternity, the urine started to flow. I filled the cup then set it onto the toilet and continued peeing into the toilet. All done, I capped the container and handed it to Jose then washed my hands.

Jose labeled the container and placed it into a plastic bag then had me follow him to the end of the hallway where he opened a cabinet revealing an eye chart. “Stand on the red line over there on the floor, cover your left eye and read this line,” he said as he pointed at one of the lines on the chart.

I covered my left eye and read the chart then repeated the process while I covered my right eye. Once I was finished, he jotted notes on my chart.

“OK,” Jose said with a smile “up on the scale so I can get your height and weight.” I stood on the scale as Jose adjusted it to get my weight then pulled out the metal rod from the top and rested it on my head to get my height.

“You’ll be in Exam 2. Follow me this way,” Jose said as he closed my chart and led me down the hall.