>I was thirteen. I was getting a physical exam before getting into junior high school. The female doctor examining me was our family pediatrician. I'd been to her before. I was getting kind of big to be going to a pediatrician, but this was the last time.
>I was just hitting puberty. Still mostly hairless, but my balls had fully dropped and had begun to grow. I was still basically a skinny kid without adult muscles. I was also a little bit taller than the doctor, who was kind of a big momma type.
>Unlike previous visits to this doctor, she politely asked my mother to leave the room while she examined me. I suppose the idea was to preserve my modesty because I was getting big. At any rate, mom went to the waiting room with no objection.
>So the doctor went about examining as I expected, listening with the stethoscope, looking into my ears, checking reflexes and so forth.
>She told me to drop my shorts and stand up straight. She felt around my balls a little and then did the “turn your head and cough” routine to to check for hernias. Then she felt around my balls and got a good grip on them, one ball in each hand.
>She looked me straight in the eye with a mean little smile on her face. She squeezed.
>She knew what she was doing all right. It was just hard enough to hurt like hell, but not hard enough leave bruises or keep me from walking straight.
>I wonder sometimes. Was there something about me she didn’t like? Or was that a going away present she gave all boys just hitting puberty?