A Sore Bottom for Travis - Chapter Two

Saturday morning was usually pretty quiet at the free clinic, and today was no exception. Phillip busied himself with catching up on his paperwork while waiting for the doctor to get back from the E.R. Some guy had come in coding, so Dr. Thompson had run down the hall to help.

Phillip heard the little buzzer that announced someone coming in the clinic door. He glanced up, glad to be distracted from the boring paperwork on the desk. In walked a tall, good-looking blonde guy—although, swaggered would be more accurate. The young man approached the check-in counter, and Phillip gave him a sly once-over. Phillip liked what he saw.

"How may I help you?" He gave the man a raised-eyebrow look that let him know he had Phillip's attention.

"Sports physical," came the indolent reply. "They're free, right?"

"For students, yes. Are you a student?" Phillip knew perfectly well that he wasn't.

"Uh, yeah...senior." The transparent lie was laughable. Phillip didn't really care if a few people got free care they were not entitled to. And this one had...potential.

"Name?" Phillip pushed a set of forms toward the young man.

"Travis White. Say, how long is this gonna take?" He cleared his throat.

"Not too long." Phillip's tone was breezy. "Actually, we‘re not very busy, but the doctor's taking care of an emergency so you may have to wait a few minutes. OK?"

Travis grunted. He filled in the forms and then took a seat across the room. Phillip reached under the counter, grabbed a small fabric bundle, and walked over to the patient.

"Follow me," he said, leading the young man to a curtained-off area around the corner. Phillip thought it might be fun to play a little game with the guy.

"You‘re here for shots, right?"

"No..NO...just a physical. I hate needles."

"Oh, yeah. That's right." Phillip smiled innocently. "We'll need a pee sample," he said, handing him a small, screw-top plastic bottle.

With a flush, Travis saw in his mind's eye the little bag of yellow liquid back in the refrigerator in the condo and realized he forgotten to bring the clean urine sample.

"OK," Phillip's tone was light. "I need you strip down, and take everything off. I'll give you a gown to put on and you can wait here until the doctor gets back. Just put your clothes over there and hop up on the exam table."

Travis turned his head to see where the nurse was pointing, and Phillip—still holding the gown—scooted out of the exam area before he could turn back around.

Travis patted his pants pocket looking for his phone. He rummaged through his pack. He pulled out what he thought was his Droid and realized he must have grabbed his uncle's phone when he dashed out of the condo. He couldn‘t remember Tiffany‘s cell number, so he clicked 'home' on his uncle's contact list. After a few maddening unanswered rings, his uncle's answering machine picked up. He left a frantic message telling Tiffany to get the bag of yellow liquid in the refrigerator and bring it to the clinic PRONTO.

Then, he started to undress, unaware of the hungry eyes watching him from behind the partition.

"Man, I hate this!" Travis muttered under his breath.

His underpants snagged on his foot and he stumbled a little bit, losing his balance. He hopped around on one foot and then landed with both hands planted on the floor in the downward dog position. Phillip watched with growing interest. The sight of the man's full, muscular buttocks and the small, winking rosebud of his exposed anus was unexpectedly beautiful, and he let out a tiny noise.

Travis whipped his head around and glanced awkwardly back over the top of his upturned bottom, but Phillip managed to scoot away before he could be seen. Travis stood up and looked around suspiciously.

"Jesus! It‘s cold in here." He could feel the little chilled ache in his nipples. Unconsciously, he pulled on his dick to stretch it out. He looked around for the gown, but couldn‘t find it. Nervous, embarrassed, and a little cold, his nut sac shrunk tightly to his abdomen. He shook his leg and pulled on his scrotum again.

"Muh-ther-FUK-ker!" Travis searched around the cubicle, finding nothing. He peeked around the curtain.

"Hey dude, uh… nurse?" He called out uncertainly. No one answered and there was no one around.

She sat up and pulled the bedclothes over her breasts. It was already afternoon. Travis had inexplicably rushed out of the condo with his backpack. She didn‘t bother to call after him. Her head was throbbing and she realized she didn‘t really care. She was already feeling bored.

Slowly, she crawled out of bed. She was glad that Travis wasn‘t there to see her in this condition. She stumbled into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She was starting to put on her make-up when the phone rang. Uninterested, she let it ring until the answering machine kicked in.

"beep…This is Charlie. You know what to do...beep."

"Baby?...Baby?...This is Travis." His voice sounded urgent. "Come on, baby. Pick up!" Unperturbed, she drew a perfect line along her lower lid in black eyeliner. She glanced at the answering machine in the mirror's reflection and went back to applying her make up.

"Baby, this is serious." He was frantic. "Ya gotta help me!!" She smoothed a dab of soft green eye shadow with her pinkie.

"Ok...I guess you're in the bathroom or something." She regarded herself placidly in the mirror, turning her head side to side.

"When you get this message, I want you to bring me something...I‘m down at the Westside Hospital at the corner of Wilshire and Beverly Glen."

She unscrewed her lipstick.

"There‘s a bag in the refrigerator. I need you to bring it to me...PRONTO! Take a cab. This is important!!"

She rolled her eyes and wiped a tiny red smudge from her front tooth.

Travis flipped off the phone.

"Hey!" He called out to the nurse again. "Where'd ya go?!" This was pretty weird, he thought. He knew he had to cooperate with this asshole nurse so he could get his all-clear on the physical without getting busted for the no-doubt sky-high blood levels of party drugs in his system.

Across the room, he could see a wall of shelves filled with all kinds of equipment and bottles. Even though he was butt naked, Travis was never one to pass up an opportunity. He picked up his backpack and snuck out from behind the curtain.

He tiptoed over to the other side of the room to investigate. Immediately, his eyes locked on what looked like a bunch of multi-dose pill bottles, the kind they have in drug store pharmacies. He couldn't believe his luck! He snatched one of the glass bottles from the shelf and gave it a little shake.

"A whole fucking bottle of Vicodin!" Travis almost shouted. "This shit goes for ten-bucks-a-pop!" His naked butt cheeks clenched with greedy excitement and felt a twinge of pain where the bath brush had jabbed him.

His eyes darted around the room. He figured he didn't have much time. Hastily, he started grabbing random bottles from the shelf and stuffing them into his pack.

"What the fuck…??!!" came a booming voice from the doorway. "Who the fuck are you??!"

Travis froze at the sudden voice behind him.

The naked boy whirled around to face his accuser. He dropped his pack, and the two men faced each other, neither saying a word. The man in the white coat was momentarily immobilized by the sudden electricity of recognition.

Travis bolted forward. His instincts told him that he could catch the man with the stethoscope off guard by running straight at him. He figured he could knock him off balance and make it out the door. With reflex greed, he gripped the bottle of Vicodin and made his move for the door. He had no thought of what he would do after that, stark naked and awkwardly clutching a bottle of stolen pills.

But Travis underestimated the other man's strength. Energized by a sudden flush of rage, Dr. Thompson grabbed onto him and swung him easily out into the hall.

Like a stolen banana in the hands of a hungry chimpanzee, Travis clutched the bottle of pills and tried to fight his way out the of the man's grip. In his hung-over state, he was easily overpowered.

With a single punch to the head, the young doctor laid Travis out cold. The blow sent him flipping backwards, ass-over-teakettle. The bottle of Vicodin crashed to the floor.

She regarded herself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom. "Not bad," she thought, admiring her flat belly and round breasts. She tugged her tight knit top to a point just above her navel.

"He really is kind of an asshole," she said aloud to the empty room. She wandered around the room. Sober and with a headache, she started thinking this guy wasn't such great thing after all. She opened a few random drawers and nosed around inside. A bunch of mail addressed to 'Charlie White' was stacked on one side.

A beautiful inlaid wood box caught her eye on top of the dresser. Curiously she lifted the lid and was dazzled by the array of men's jewelry—huge diamond pinkie rings and massive gold cufflinks.

"Hmmm..." She picked up one particularly heavy-looking cufflink with the initials 'CW' outlined in tiny diamonds. "Maybe this guy isn't such a loser after all." She hefted the cufflink in her hand and wondered how much a thing like this would cost.

"Wait a minute!" she thought. Her brows would have knit were they not immobilized by Botox. "I thought this guy said his name was 'Travis.’" And then it dawned on her—the answering machine for 'Charlie...' The cufflinks with 'CW' on them...the mail in the drawer for 'Charlie White...' Travis was a fucking imposter!

Alarmed by the ruckus, Phillip ran out into the hallway and couldn't believe what he saw. There was Dr. Thompson standing over the naked, apparently unconscious, form of the patient who had come for a physical.

"What happened, Doc?" Phillip was simultaneously shocked and intrigued. His eyes darted back and forth between the unconscious form of the naked man on the floor and the doctor‘s stunned face.

Slowly, and with growing anger, the doctor began to explain where he had met this boy before. The words began to pour out of him as he recounted the entire humiliating episode in the park. Phillip listened in disbelief, nodding from time-to-time and making small empathetic noises. When the doctor came to the part about having to make his way home naked with the word 'fag' on his back, Phillip's sympathetic anger swelled to complete outrage.

"Why didn't you tell me any of this sooner?" Phillip asked sincerely. "I could have helped you find the bastard!"

Richard shook his head sadly. "I was too embarrassed."

Phillip laid his hand lightly on Richard‘s arm. His eyes narrowed. "Maybe I have an idea..."



The phone rang and made her jump. She was still upset over what had happened to Richard in the park. She could still see those horrible words scrawled on his back. It had taken her forever to scrub them off as he sobbed on the bed. She didn't care about the money, but the thought of some bastard terrorizing and humiliating a nice guy like Richard made her blood boil. And to make matters worse, once the police had found out that Richard was unhurt, they decided they were too busy to interview him right away. That was them on the phone. They wanted to speak with Richard. She told them that he had gone in to work to get his mind off what had happened. They said they would talk with him tomorrow. Denise was about to give them a piece of her mind and then decided it would probably only make matters worse.

She quietly put the receiver down and wished there were something she could do to help.

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