They say pickleball is a sport for old people, but it’s a crazy yet serious game at the university. Coming from a family with no money, I was there on a baseball scholarship, but played a lot of pickleball, too.
There’s a certain move where you crouch low, and are ready to instantly jump sideways. It was starting to affect me. I was feeling like one of the old people. At first, due to the location of the pain, I didn’t want to tell anyone.
Being poor, I was still living at home while I went to college, and one day, sitting at dinner, my mom asked why I was sitting ‘funny.’ The pain had become so bad, I finally had to admit it to her.
“Mom, I have a literal pain in the ass.” I went on to explain it seemed to be in the bone just above my anus, right at the base of my asscrack. I don’t know what I was expecting from her. I was hoping she wouldn’t lecture me for bringing up such a thing at dinner, or saying ‘ass.’ Fortunately, she didn’t do something else I was worried about. She didn’t laugh.
Instead she said, “Oh, Honey.” I cringe when she calls me that. I’m 19 years old, after all. A moment later, she added, “I’d better take a look.”
“No, Mom!” I practically shouted. She hadn’t seen me naked since I was maybe eight years old.
You know how insistent mothers can be. After dinner found me with my pants and underwear removed, laying face down on her bed, with my dad spreading my ass cheeks apart, and her shining her phone’s flashlight in. They were literally staring at my asshole. How embarrassing is that?
Weird as it sounds, the scene was quite legitimate. I had a real issue, and they were seriously trying to figure out how to help their child. I was fortunate my fucking older brother was downstairs doing some homework. Until he popped into their bedroom, and started to say, “Hey…”
The rest of the sentence caught in his throat as he took in the scene. Dad said that I ‘was a pain in the ass.’ He chuckled a bit, then explained the actual situation, that I ‘had a pain in the ass.’ Johan went back downstairs, he wasn’t in the least bit interested.
My mom and dad changed places. She was now spreading my ass apart, instructing to move my knees farther apart so they could see better, and he was pressing on my actual ass crack area, saying, ‘tell me if it hurts.’ It only hurt a very little bit, and I told him so. At one point he was pressing lower. I realized his index fingertip was actually on the top edge of my asshole. That affected me strangely. I could feel my penis start to harden. Fortunately, it was over in a minute. No one saw any actual erection, and that was that.
An hour later, my mom announced she had called Sondra. I didn’t realize she was talking about my situation at first. Sondra is a 50-something, overweight, frizzy-haired friend of my mother who grew up in Germany. She looks kind of like Coach Beast in Glee, but not as good. She a massage practitioner.
Mom said I had an appointment with Sondra tomorrow at 4pm.
“No fucking way!” I blurted out without thinking.
“Watch your mouth,” was my dad’s mumbled replay.
As usual, there’s no turning down my mother. So the next afternoon, instead of playing pickleball, which would have hurt too much anyway, I found myself sitting sheepishly in Sondra’s waiting room.
I had been here a few times before, for sore back, sore legs, things like that. Sondra and my mom traded things, so this wouldn’t cost the family anything. Mom would probably babysit Sondra’s grandkids or something.
When Sondra called me back into her treatment room, I wasn’t super-scared or anything, but I was kind of nervous. I knew everything would be fine, and I knew she’d keep what she calls ‘draped’ but still, the pain was near my anus. Presumably, she’d be working around there.
Like the other times I had seen her, she had me go in her little changing room, and come out wearing nothing but a towel. She instructed me to get on the table, laying face down, placing my head in the hollow round pillow-like thing at the end of the table. She massaged my neck, calves, thighs, lower then upper arms, all the usual stuff. I was becoming quite relaxed. Pretty soon I started to realize this was probably all she was going to do. Probably all she could do. I mean really, I know my mom is a strong believer in it, but massage can only do so much, right?
I was starting to fall asleep under her possibly useless, but very comforting massage when I suddenly noticed she was saying something to me.
“What?”
“Take a moment, but when you’re ready, I’d like you to flip over on the table so you’re on your hands and knees.”
She found a huge upholstered block, sort of like an overgrown pillow, and shoved it under my stomach as I was struggling to get into position. I say struggling, because the towel was threatening to reveal my privates in that position, and I was trying to pull it to cover the view.
“Oh, that’s only going to be in ze vay,” Sondra said in her thick accent, as she started to pull it off me.
I held on, bunching it in my fist with ridiculous strength to keep it from sliding off me.
“No Brian, we won’t need that. Now, don’t vorry. I changed your diapers a time or two. I’ve seen all that before.”
So, what, exactly, could I do? I also realized that this was treatment. Nothing sexual. Nothing to be embarrassed about. But still…
I let go of the towel, and there I was, stark naked, on my hands and knees, hunched over some sort of pillow-block on a fat, old woman’s massage table.
“Vare does it hurt, Brian?”
“Right above my as… um, anus.”
She went right to the spot, and pressed lightly with her fingertips. It only hurt a little. What hurt way more was the embarrassment. She was seeing my asshole. The room was brightly lit, there was no doubt she had a very clear view. And, she saw my balls too.
She momentarily pressed here and there, asking where it hurt more, and where less. I felt her pour some warm massage oil on the very top of my asscrack, and felt it run down, around my balls, and drip off onto the table. It had a strangely erotic feeling that made me shudder.
She said she knew about this injury. It was quite common. Something about where the muscles attach to the coccyx bone, which she said is the ‘tailbone.’ She got a bit technical on me, naming the muscles, then saying that the injury does heal in a fairly short time. I have to say that I tuned her mostly out, because as she was speaking, she was gently rubbing the oil into that area. About every third stroke, she went a bit further, and she was touching, actually touching my asshole. It sent shiver after shiver down my back, but felt very, very nice. I hadn’t had a girlfriend yet, so I could only imagine it felt something like loving attention from a girl.
Then, to my horror, it occurred to me, I had grown an erection. There’s no way Sondra couldn’t have seen it. This was clearly not supposed to happen. But what, exactly, could I do about it?
I did the only decent thing I could think of, I mumbled, “Sorry about that.” Part of me wanted to jump off the table and run out of the room in embarrassment.
“Oh, don’t apologize Brian. It’s natural under the circumstances.”
I literally said nothing. I couldn’t even think of a response.
Sondra continued her work. The erection had no plans of going down. I started to figure I’d just put up with it. It was probably business for usual for Sondra. Weird profession, eh?
“Brian,” she interrupted my thoughts. “In this type of injury, reaching the front side of the coccyx can be very beneficial. May I proceed?”
“Um, OK, whatever.” I hadn’t understood the implication.
I felt her pour some more warm massage oil on me. This time it was directly on my asshole, which made me tighten my pooping muscles involuntarily for a moment and shiver once again. My gosh, it actually felt quite nice. Then I felt her fingertip against my anus. This was new. Until now, she had been only brushing across it with her strokes.
I know I should have protested, or something. But I was dead silent. This was just beyond my comprehension. It felt surprisingly wonderful, and also somehow naughty. As if I was doing something deliciously wrong. Could the day get any weirder?
She very slowly pressed her finger all the way in. At one point, it felt a bit pinchy or scratchy, but mostly, it just made my erection even harder if that was possible.
Sondra then did massage the inside of my tailbone, and it was very, very nice. Then, she quietly said, almost under her breath, “Since ‘ve’re in the neighborhood, we might as well do a little prostate massage, too.”
I had no idea what that was, but found out right away. She slowly turned her finger around, took a step to a slightly position beside the table, and I found that her finger was pressing forward, against what I thought was my bladder. She was evidently running it around in little circles. I felt sort of like I had to pee, but way better than that.
After a minute of that, I felt something I had never experienced before. I felt some thick fluid flow outward through my penis. Was I cumming? No, there was no orgasm. I heard a very minor splat as a drop of what must have been a single drop cum splashed onto the thin sheet on the table.
“Men often express a little semen during prostate massage,” is all Sondra said.
She continued. At one point, she reached under my body, and removed the big pillow thing I had been leaning on. She then reached under me, and wrapped her hand entirely around my penis, and just held it. “Doesn’t that feel nice?”
I had to agree, it certainly did feel nice!
After an unfortunately short time, because I was realizing I could enjoy this treatment approximately forever, she slowly pulled her finger all the way out. I didn’t know fingers could be that long. It felt like it kept coming out and coming out, like it was a good twelve inches.
The next thing I knew, the massage was over. She had me go back into her bathroom and take a shower to wash off the oil. You can bet I beat off in the shower, having a rapid, and strong orgasm, squirting out sperm a good foot. Then I got dressed, thanked Sondra who just nodded humbly, and headed home.
I was so confused! I hadn’t orgasmed under her treatment, but I’ll bet if it had continued, I certainly would have. I decided it was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and asked my mother whether I should book a follow-up appointment.
“Does it still hurt?” she asked.
I had to admit than Sondra’s treatment had absolutely done the trick. The pain was 100% gone and never came back. So, unfortunately, there was no follow up, and nothing of the sort has ever happened to me again, so far.
