Sigmund Freud is quoted for saying, "We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love."
While Freud's teachings, works, and theories may not be always taken as gospel in today's postmodern world, the man had a point. After a man like myself suffered through every possible childhood horror imaginable, one does tend to avoid love. It is the most natural defense in the world.
Freud was a brilliant man, a writer; one who could finish a thought and have the courage to publish it for the public to scrutinize for many years to come. For that alone I admired him, and many other psychologists whose books I studied in order to get one of my degrees. I was a medical doctor first, and a psychologist second; a doctor of both the body and the mind.
I mostly retired from both practices. I only worked three days out of the week, and they were mostly charity cases; people who needed help and had no money to pay; they were at the end of their rope. For three years I operated that way; semi-retired and getting pennies for my work. I hardly needed the money; I was forty years old, eternally single, and hadn't any debt. Twelve years of working two private practices and living within my means earned me a significant amount of money saved up.
But for some strange reason I still had a reputation of being a 'doctor for the rich;' possibly because my reputation of extreme discretion still remained untarnished.
And because of that reputation, some of the most interesting cases would show up on my doorstep. And the most interesting case by far, was undoubtedly the curious case of Will Graham.
...XoXoXoXoXoXo...
It all began in my medical office, which was attached to my house, right along with my psychiatry practice. It was a large Victorian house that lended well to both my personal privacy, and a private business.
I handled all my bookings and appointments myself; all a part of my discretion-assurance plan. Also, you may find as you read this, I have a need for control, in every aspect of my life. A secretary would have been a fruitless endeavor and I never cared to attempt it. Besides, scrawling appointments in a calendar was hardly rocket science.
I booked an appointment the day before, for a woman named Tabitha Graham. She sounded distressed, and I gathered from her tone, and my experience, that she was not making the appointment for herself, but her child; likely a son.
And my suspicions were confirmed correct. The moment the clock struck three o'clock in the afternoon, a petite, slim young woman in an expensive pants suit ushered in a small boy who had the messiest, thickest mop of dark curls I'd ever seen. He looked, quite frankly, like a cartoon character.
"Hello, you must be Doctor Lecter."
"I must be." I shook hands with her, and my impeccable sense of smell caught a hint of jasmine wafting off of her.
"I am Tabitha. And this is my son, Will. Will, say hello." The obviously overbearing woman all but smacked the small child on the back of the head in order to get his eyes to move in a direction remotely close to where I stood.
"Hullo." The child was positively morose, but he looked like he had a rebellious side boiling just under the surface; a side he was not allowing me to see just yet.
I looked to the mother, pretending to be surprised about the patient bait-and-switch.
"I was under the impression that you were not well, Mrs. Graham. You appear to be in optimal health." An understatement, as the woman practically dripped with confidence, good posture, and, quite frankly, money.
"What brings you here?" I again pretended not to know a thing.
"It's him." The fact that Tabitha suddenly went from calling her son "Will," to "him" did not go unnoticed.
"He's not well, doctor. Please, just talk to him in your office. I'll be waiting right out here." She immediately plopped herself down into a chair in the small waiting area.
The haste with which she was shoving her son off to me indicated that she was embarrassed; extremely embarrassed. It gave me a hint as to the nature of her son's problem.
"I'll need you to fill out some papers, Mrs. Graham. It's all here on this clipboard. Please sign where the red tabs are…"
I hardly had time to finish my instruction before she had already signed the highlighted areas on the permission sheet and handed right back to me. In the next instant she was dutifully filling out the patient information form.
"Well then," I spoke directly to the young boy, who looked like he was about to be sent to the electric chair. "Shall we?" Motioning towards the examination room, I secretly took note of the reaction the mother had when Will complied. She looked relieved; like a giant weight had just been lifted off of her shoulders; like she thought she might be close to getting this problem solved; whatever that may be.
One thing I knew for sure, however, was that it was not going to be that simple. Whatever had this woman so wound up, embarrassed, and concerned was very likely not going to be solved with a simple examination. I suspected there was some psychological element both stemming from and causing the problems at home.
...XoXoXoXoXoXo...
The moment I closed the door to the sound-proofed examination room, I gave Will a good once-over. He was about eight or nine years of age; underweight, shorter than average and was probably the odd duck in school; likely bullied about his strange countenance. Because he did have a strange look about him; not his face, no, his face was perfect in every way. He was likely teased for his cab-door ears that almost stuck out past the point of his unruly curls, and the odd way he looked at things, and people; like he was analyzing everything. Because he was. I already knew that Will Graham was an extremely intelligent young boy; and I'd only ever heard him say one word.
"Now then. Before we start, Will, I would like to introduce myself. My name is Hannibal."
"But…" Will sounded very quiet at first. "My mother said your name was Doctor Lecter."
"Well that is my official title, yes. Lecter is my surname, and I am a doctor. But you can call me Hannibal if you want, since I call you Will."
"I see. I think I'll call you Doctor." The child was obviously analyzing my words, surmising each and every possible meaning and inference and calculating a prediction as to what would happen to him next. It was all a learned survival tactic; one that I was extremely disheartened to see in a child so young. Children his age didn't need to worry about survival; or at least, they shouldn't have to.
"You sound weird." He said bluntly, and innocently. "My Aunt Chrissie sounds weird too, but not in the same way. She is from England. Where are you from?"
"You are very keen, Will. I am from Lithuania. It is close to Poland."
"I know where Lithuania is." Will huffed dramatically.
I gave the little brat (although cute and genuinely smart brat) a placating smile. "Why don't you have a seat and we'll begin?"
The child clenched his fists where he stood, and I realized that he was shifting his weight from foot-to-foot out of discomfort. I chided myself for not realizing earlier.
"Are you in any pain, Will?"
"N-n-no…"
"Discomfort, then? Not quite pain, but something doesn't feel right?"
He nodded, then.
"Alright then. Why don't you take off your clothes and I'll have a look at you."
"It's my ass, Doctor." The crass word hit my ears rather unexpectedly and I dare say I almost jumped.
"You're ass?" I repeated without thinking, although immediately after it left my lips I began to understand. All of the pieces were coming together now…
"Yes. I put something inside my ass and now I can't get it out; it's stuck."
"Well alright then. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Young men like you-"
"I'm not embarrassed."
Surprisingly, I believed him. He did not bear any of the characteristics of an embarrassed child. In fact, if anything he was more embarrassed about his mother's embarrassed behavior earlier, than he was telling me the words, "It's my ass, Doctor."
"I just need it out."
"Well alright then. We'll see what we can do, hm? Take off your clothes, and put on this gown."
He obeyed, without any further comment, for which I was relieved. This was already turning out to be one of my most interesting cases I've ever encountered. Will Graham was a fascinating creature, to be sure.
I tried not to preemptively rake my eyes over the scrawny, pale body as he undressed and donned the small gown that hardly covered anything. He was so petite I gave him the toddler size, and it was only a slight bit too small, as medical gowns go.
"Good. Now step up onto the exam table if you can. Get on your hands and knees, facing away from me."
The child's movements were unwavering, obedient, and professional. I dare say this nine year-old child was being more professional than I. And on that note, I didn't even know officially how old he was. I'd left his information sheet outside with his mother…
Damn this retirement. I'd really gotten out of practice.
Will was perched on his hands and knees on the exam cushion, and the gown left his buttocks hanging out for me to inspect. Initially, I didn't see anything, which was a bad sign. If something was stuck deep inside, it was going to be tough to get out.
I snapped on a pair of tight vinyl gloves and pulled a tube of the thick pasty lubricant out of a drawer and put a hefty amount on my right index finger.
"Alright, this may feel a little strange, but I will be careful. I need you to relax."
I felt unnecessarily apprehensive, for some unknown reason, as I pressed my lubricated, gloved finger into the boy's small orifice. The outer sphincter felt normal; in-tact. And I couldn't see any sign of major tearing. I took my pen light from my lab coat pocket and shone it on the muscle in question. I spotted a small, incredibly minor tear in one of the sphincter's ridges, but it was superficial, and not even bleeding.
I put the penlight away and let my finger sink deeper inside the boy. A low moan escaped my patient, and I felt him move a little, out of pain, discomfort, or any number or reasons. I ignored the noise since it was not loud enough to be a serious interjection.
I put my entire index finger inside the rectum and did not feel anything foreign or unusual. I reluctantly added lubricant to my middle finger as well and carefully slid that one in alongside the first.
"Ohhhhhhhh….." I heard Will gasp.
It occurred to me then that the boy was getting pleasure from my ministrations. I felt stupid for not realizing it from the first moan earlier. I prayed to the God I did not believe in that the child did not just make up a story about having something stuck inside his ass just to get fingered by his doctor. That would have truly been a dirty trick.
"I'm sorry if this is making you uncomfortable." I effectively feigned innocence.
"Feels kinda good, actually." He said honestly.
"Well I'm not feeling anything unusual in here, Will." I drew my fingers out and immediately peeled off my glove and disposed of it, and then immediately re-gloved with a fresh one out of habit.
"It's…. really stuck. I swear to God I'm not making this up."
"Perhaps it I knew what it was, I could-"
"A flashlight."
"Come again?"
"You heard me." The child said petulantly. "A flashlight. A medium sized, LED push-button flashlight. It's really stuck in there. I… haven't gone to the bathroom for three days."
My eyebrows were already quite raised, but they rose even higher when I realized that the child did have a slight pouch look to his lower gut; a sure sign of severe constipation.
"If that is the case, I'm going to have to use a different tool to find it, Will. Please lay on your back and put your knees to your chest.
Will complied and I tried not to realize just how erotic this situation was. The entire time my dick was already 100% in tune with just how sultry and sexy this child behaved. He simply exuded prowess and confidence, and he hadn't even officially reached puberty yet.
I grabbed a plastic, disposable speculum from my cabinet and covered it with a more watery lubricant so that it would slide inside easier.
A speculum may have looked small and unassuming in my large hands, but when compared to such a tiny little hole, it looked like an instrument of torture.
"This may feel uncomfortable, I want you to tell me if you need me to stop."
I held my breath, not really knowing what was to come from this. Was the child lying about the flashlight? Would I be able to retrieve it if he wasn't lying? Would he need surgery?
Also, on a side note, I was immensely aroused by the fact that Will was enjoying the poking and prodding; kinky little bastard.
I put another big glob of water-based lubricant on the speculum and I eased the tip into the tight channel. I watched in awe as his tiny muscles seemed to suck it right in, as if it were hungry for more. I pushed further, and I heard Will moan again. His penis was flaccid, but I wondered if at his age he'd even experienced an erection. I was certain that if he was physically capable of it, he would have already been hard and leaking precum at this point.
Now the speculum was about halfway in, and it was already further than my fingers could reach. I pushed a tiny bit further, and I felt Will jerk.
"Ssshhhh.." I soothed. "I need you to hold still, Will."
"Feels good."
I nearly rolled my eyes at my own hesitation; this kid put a flashlight in his ass, he could handle a speculum. I pushed the device all the way inside in one quick motion, and held it firmly in place as I felt him bear down against it, as if he was trying to expel it.
"More…." He requested in a whine.
"That's all of it, Will. Now you're going to hear a couple of loud clicks, alright? Don't be alarmed, it's just the device opening you so I can see inside."
"O-o-okay." His voice was stuttering, and I could tell that this kid may very well have a dry orgasm right here on my exam table.
"Alright. Here it comes." I pulled the cheap, flimsy plastic handle and it gave a loud click as the two plastic 'blades' made a first attempt to pry open the impossibly tiny channel. I clicked it two more times, and the ring of muscle finally opened enough that I might be able to get a small camera scope inside, but there was no way that I would be able to inspect inside on my own. I had used a speculum on women countless times, for wellness exams or pap smears, but the plan to use it on a child's tight anal walls was much better suited in theory or fantasy than in real-life practical application.
The tiny gap got a little bigger as the ring of muscles adjusted and relaxed, and I got the camera scope out of my drawer and turned it on. Sure, I didn't actually need a speculum still in place in order for the scope to work, but if this kid wanted kinky, goddamn it he was going to get it.
The scope was a long piece of flexible wire with a small camera at the tip and a light to illuminate dark orifices. On the hand-held piece there was a small screen so that I could see what was going on inside. I don't know why I didn't think of this in the first place.
I turned the camera on and gently slid the long, thin probe into Will's unsuspecting passage.
"Ohhh…. Doctor… Mmmm…" Will writhed minutely on the table as he hummed, and I could tell he wanted to let go of his legs so he could handle a different part of the body, but I didn't let him.
"Please hold still, Will." I watched the camera monitor as the probe made its way through Will's tiny rectum. It didn't take long to find what Will was talking about. Sure enough, the probe light reflected off of the convex lens of a flashlight, forcefully wedged in the crooked duodenum between the rectum and the sigmoid colon. I felt relieved to find it, but at the same time I felt the gravity of the situation sink in. The flashlight looked big, compared to the normal diameter of the rectal walls. It was stretching him open on the inside, and blocking the passing of waste. If this issue was not resolved soon, a problem like this could be fatal.
"Well I see it. It is quite big. I'm curious as to how you got it in there…"
"Lots of lotion. It felt good at the time…."
"Mmmhhmmm. I see. Well I am going to need another tool to retrieve it. Are you alright holding your legs like that for a bit longer?" I tried not to get even a small measure of satisfaction from Will's uncomfortable position, stuck holding his thighs to his chest like that.
I grabbed a very long pair of forceps from the bottom drawer and I braced myself for the fact that I would need to open the speculum even wider. The child would no doubt be alright with it. In fact, I just might inadvertently bring him to orgasm, just from my efforts to help him out of this predicament.
I readied the forceps, and balanced the camera on my knee while opening the speculum two more notches. Finally, I could actually see inside the small rectum. And I even saw a little bit of light coming from the end of the camera probe.
"I need you to bear down, Will. As best as you can. Pretend you are going to the bathroom."
"I-I-I can't." I realized that he'd begun to sweat profusely and his slim little thighs were quivering.
"You can. You've done it a thousand times. Just think about going to the bathroom; the muscle memory is there. Just try, for me."
Will screwed his eyes shut tight and I could tell he was trying.
"Good. Now rest. Okay, try it again."
After the third or fourth attempt, I finally saw the flashlight budge into view just the tiniest bit. But it was enough. I carefully pushed the long forceps inside and clamped it around the rim of the flashlight lens. I held onto the forceps with a death grip, determined not the let the object slip away. The camera slid out and I let gravity take care of it. I knew the speculum would likely be coming out in a non-graceful fashion as well. But I focused all of my attention on keeping a hold of the curvy-edged flashlight as I tugged in one swift, strong motion outwards.
The flashlight, much to my relief, cooperated with my maneuver and actually began to come out. I quickly released the tension on the speculum and it too slid out of Will's anus and clattered onto the floor for me to take care of later. At the moment, all I could think about was getting the elusive object out of my patient. And, admittedly, I was also thinking about the absolutely lovely moans coming from the boy who was at my mercy.
"D-d-doctor!" Will cried out suddenly as his little body violently jerked and twitched just as the flashlight was retrieved from his bowels.
A drop of sweat stung my eyes and I wiped my soaked forehead with my sleeve. I watched in awe as the aftershocks of a dry orgasm rippled through the little boy. Oh how I wished I could have joined in, and spilled my release inside that perfect little hole that I'd just spend the better part of an hour exploring.
But I could never do a thing like that. Will was hardly old enough to consent; not just in the eyes of the law, but from a psychological standpoint. Little boys didn't know how to comprehend adult concepts like sex, because they didn't need to.
I just needed to keep my hands to myself.