Date: Tue, 16 May 2006 12:15:30 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jack Santoro <jackinnm@yahoo.com>
Subject: Exploring, Part 22, Adult Friends, 22/?

Exploring, Part 22
By Jackinnm@yahoo.com

	Jim and I had gone to bed after viewing other TV
stations to get more details. Information was sparse
at that stage. We got up early and I picked up the
newspaper from outside my door.
	The following morning Jim and I had built up a more
complete picture of the attempted shooting from
reading the newspaper than that delivered by the TV
bimbos. The gunman, Charles Colt, had told the police
that the doctor was the anti-Christ and that he'd
received a divine commandment to shoot him. Jim had
promised to do a bit more digging when he got to his
office, and when we met for lunch he had more to add
to the story:
	"I checked out this Doctor Butcher, and he's got an
interesting history. For a long time he's been the
director of a free clinic down in the inner city. This
means that all of his patients are indigents, most are
poorly educated, some are illegal immigrants, and many
of those don't speak English well. I got this
information from one of the nurses who works there."
	"Now one strange thing that happened at that clinic
was that whenever a parent brought in a sick boy, for
whatever reason, Doctor Butcher had the boy drop his
pants so that he could check him for a hernia. What he
was really checking for was circumcision. If the boy
still had his foreskin when he arrived at the clinic,
he usually wouldn't leave with it."
	"How did he get away with this shit?" I asked.
	"It was easy," Jim answered. "If the boy was there
for a tonsillectomy, Butcher would snip off his
foreskin while he was under the anesthetic. If he had
to have a broken arm set, he'd sedate him heavily, and
circumcise him as well, using a local anesthetic on
his penis. Even if the kid was brought in for a bloody
nose or a cold, Butcher would tell the parent that his
foreskin was too tight, or something, and do a
circumcision."
	"That's awful," I said. "So this guy Colt was about
to shoot the right target, but for the wrong reason?"
	"Looks that way," Jim replied. "Colt is a nut-cake,
right from the start. Maybe it's a lucky thing, too.
The only guy ever caught with these shootings turns
out to have a totally unrelated motive."
	"That's sure to deflect the police investigation," I
said. "They won't make the connection between the
shootings and circumcising doctors."
	"Now there's more to the story, a lot more," Jim
continued. "A lot of the treatments and operations
Butcher performed at the clinic were unnecessary. He
was just doing them to collect Medicaid payments. You
know that today hardly any kid gets his tonsils out.
Almost all the kids who came into his clinic underwent
tonsillectomy. It looked strange when all the kids in
a family needed their tonsils out at the same time.
Then there were other cases. One woman brought in her
young son, and since she was an immigrant the boy
hadn't been circumcised. Well, it turned out that she
had four other sons, and Butcher told her that he
needed to check them as well. Would you believe that
he circumcised all five of them the same week? One he
diagnosed as phimosis, and another with balanitis. He
clipped another to treat his bedwetting, and he had
the balls to put down that he circumcised the two
oldest boys for masturbation."
	"How did he get away with this shit?" I asked.
	"He did for years, but recently someone at the
Medicaid office was reviewing his paperwork, and
thought it odd that so many members of the same family
needed the same operations at the same time. They're
going to start an investigation on him."
	"Well, didn't he stop doing circumcisions when these
shootings started? Was he totally stupid?"
	"Oh, yes, when he got the word that circumcisers were
being shot around the country, he stopped doing them,
but he didn't let up on other treatments and
operations. So he's going to get investigated anyway,
unless someone else knocks him off."
	"I think once they do the investigation, he'll be a
prime target for someone when it gets into the news,"
I suggested.
	"I think so too," Jim concluded. "I wouldn't place
bets on his life expectancy either. But there's more.
I decided to dig into his background. Butcher
originally hails from Virginia, and I checked the
medical database there. Would you believe that he got
his medical license revoked in Virginia almost 30
years ago, and for what?" I sat speechless for a
moment, stunned. Finally I asked:
	"Okay, for what?"
	"It turned out that one fine day he'd just finished
circumcising a baby. He had his dick out and was
beating off while looking at the kid's bandaged penis.
The medical director of the hospital happened to walk
in and saw this. This guy hates unprofessional
behavior with a passion, and he reported him to the
medical licensing board. They yanked Butcher's license
right then."
	"Served him right," I said. "But how did he get
licensed in Seattle, then?"
	"Each state has its own medical licensing board, and
they don't talk to each other much. Also, there's no
national clearing house to keep track of disbarred
doctors. That's why a lot of doctors who get their
licenses yanked move to another state and obtain
licenses there."
	"I've heard of that happening," I said. "We've had
several doctors right here with a drug problem who had
had their licenses pulled in another state for the
same problem."
	"That's how the system works, or rather, doesn't
work."
	"That's depressing," I said as I got up. We had to
get back to work.
	Two weeks later Jim asked if he could come over that
evening. As it was a Friday, I thought that we'd be
able to have a pleasant evening together as we did not
have to work the next day. As I grilled steaks on my
patio, Jim gave me the latest news:
	"It just came over the wire before I phoned you this
afternoon. Doctor Butcher was set for a hearing with
the state medical board. It was all over the news. He
was driving there when his car ran off the road and
hit a concrete wall at 80 miles an hour. He was killed
instantly and the car burned."
	"Single car accident or was he run off the road?" I
asked.
	"I don't know, Jack. The cops said the car was too
busted up to be sure. The fire didn't help, either."
We sat down to eat, and during the meal I voiced my
opinion:
	"I'm pretty sure it was no accident, Jim. I'm also
sure the guy who knocked off Butcher was serious, not
like that clown Colt."
	"Anyway," Jim continued, "Colt has an alibi. He's
been in police custody, so he couldn't have had
anything to do with Butcher's death."
	After dinner we went into the bedroom and stripped
down. We had by now tacitly agreed on how to take the
tension out of the day. Jim had his attaché case with
him and he took out what I recognized as an
electro-stimulator principally used for sex.
	"I always had a problem with my penis not being very
sensitive because I was clipped," he explained.
"That's why I was searching for new techniques such as
the vibrator. I also found this. It works by sending a
mild electric current through the nerves in the groin
area, and it gives me some terrific orgasms."
	"I'd like to try it," I said. "Can you demonstrate
how it works on yourself?"
	"I'd love to," he replied. He removed some wires from
the case and plugged them into the device, which was
about the size of a thick book. "These attach to
electrodes. The first goes between my skin and the
head." he demonstrated it for me.
	"Next is this elastic blue band that goes around the
base of my dick," he said as he put it on. "Now comes
this sticky gel pad I put behind my balls," he
continued. "Finally there's this one, a large sticky
pad I put between my ass-cheeks just touching my anus.
The box has two channels. The electrodes on my dick
are for Channel A, and the other two are for Channel
B." He plugged in the wires and turned the stimulator
on.
	"I'm adjusting the pulses now," Jim said as he
twisted several knobs on the control box. "I can
adjust them for power level, frequency, and speed of
the pulses. It's just a matter of finding what works
on my dick." I noticed that Jim's prick had begun
twitching slightly with the pulses, and was rapidly
swelling. Within 30 seconds he was fully erect, the
outline of his swollen helmet clearly visible through
the covering skin. As he'd hardened, the twitches
becames more pronounced.
	"This feels good, really good," Jim said as he lay
back on the bed. I placed a wad of tissues under his
prick, which was flat on his abdomen and twitching
more strongly now.
	"How long does it take to come?" I asked.
	"Maybe another minute, unless I want to stretch it
out. I'll come fast to show you." He twisted the power
knob on the control panel and the twitches became more
pronounced. Now his prick was jerking up and down
through an arc of 30 degrees. He turned the power up
slightly.
	"Aaaahhhh," he groaned. "This is going to be fast and
hard. My dick's really tingling now." I saw that his
prick still jerked hard, synchronized with the
flashing lights on the control panel, and that his
abdominal muscles were taut. His legs spread and began
a slight tremor.
	"More," he muttered as he twisted the power knob
farther, and now I saw that his entire body was
tensing, responding to the stimulation coursing
through his lower body. His eyes closed, his fists
clenched, and then his hips bucked.
	"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" he cried out as I saw a thick
gush of white cream pour from the puckered end of his
hood. It would have shot out in a long stream if the
tight pucker of his foreskin hadn't been there to slow
it.
	His entire body jerked as another copious gush poured
from the end of his foreskin, soaking the tissues
underneath. He cried out again as a third load gushed
from his jerking prick. He turned the power down as a
fourth eruption soaked the tissues. His head rocked
from side to side as the frenzy of orgasm dominated
his straining body. I saw several more loads seep from
his prick with less force now that he was almost
drained, and then he flipped the power switch to OFF
and lay there, gasping, trying to catch his breath.
His helmet was still totally covered by his long
foreskin, but I could see that it was shrinking as his
shaft softened.
	"That was awesome," was all I could say when I though
he was fully aware again. I'd heard of
electro-stimulation, and had seen advertisements for
the equipment, but I'd never seen it in action.
	"It was pretty awesome," he replied, echoing my
words. He began removing the electrodes from his body,
asking:
	"Ready to try it?" I lay beside him and watched as he
fitted the electrodes onto my body. He placed one
between my cheeks, touching my anus, and another
behind my scrotum. He pulled my foreskin back and
placed another onto my helmet, drawing the long hood
forward to retain it. Finally he placed the elastic
band around the base of my shaft, pulling it tight.
	"That tight band will help your erection by
constricting the veins," he explained. "Now I'll start
you at a low levelo to let you get used to it." He
turned on the control box and I felt a series of
tingling pulses coursing through my prick, balls and
back to my anus, which contracted slightly with every
pulse.
	"Want more power now" he asked. I nodded and he
turned a knob to intensify the pulses. I felt a spasm
deep inside me with every pulse, and I knew that my
body was responding.
	"How about the frequency?" he asked as he turned the
frequency knob. "Tell me when it feels best for you."
I felt the character of the pulses changing, and when
they felt best for me I nodded.
	"I've got the rhythm turned low, about one pulse per
second," he said. "This should get you going and when
you're hard I'll speed it up to give you your orgasm."
I felt my prick twitching with each pulse, as blood
poured into it. Within half a minute I was fully hard,
and Jim turned up the rhythm. My prick began twitching
faster, in time with the pulses, and Jim commented:
	"You're really hard now. I can see your rim through
the skin. Your helmet's as swollen as I've ever seen
it. You're also juicing a lot, more than I've ever
seen you do before." I usually didn't secrete much
lubricant but now it was seeping steadily from my
foreskin's tight pucker. He turned up the power and
the strength of my prick twitches increased. My prick
was jerking hard now, rising in a 30 degree arc as
Jim's had, dropping to my abdomen between pulses.
	"Just stay relaxed," he coached me. "You don't have
to do a thing. Each pulse makes your cock-root
contract and soon you'll be shooting your load." He
placed a wad of tissues under the end of my jerking
prick and turned up the power slightly.
	It felt like a hot tingle was running through my
helmet, shaft, prostate, and anus each time the
current pulsed. I was trying to stay relaxed, but each
hot pulse brought me closer to the brink, the moment
of no return, and I felt my awareness of the world
outside my body was fading as the magical pulses
dominated my attention.
	"Your cock's turning red," he said. "It's all full of
blood, more than I've ever seen it before." I wasn't
surprised. My prick was straining, jerking with each
hot pulse that tortured my nerve endings.
	"This isn't just hitting the nerve endings," he
explained. "It's running down the nerves themselves,
even some you didn't know you had." He was right. The
sensations were intense, more powerful than
any I'd previously experienced.
	"Your balls are really tight," he continued. "I'll
turn up the power just a bit now." I felt my prick
throbbing and jerking hard, and it seemed that the
fluid in my groin was boiling as I slid inexorably
toward the brink. My eyes closed and I braced myself
for the storm. My entire body tensed involuntarily and
my world turned upside-down.
	"AAAAGGGGHHH!" I heard myself crying in the distance
as the root of my prick went into spasm, squirting a
powerful jet of hot lava into my tube. I was utterly
helpless, captivated by the intense sensations that
flooded my lower body. The first load seared its way
up my prick, exploding out of my straining helmet,
immediately followed by another that attacked my
senses and made me cry out in joyful agony.
	My conscious mind was on HOLD as another wave of
sensation poured through me, wracking my body and
making me cry out again. Each pulse brought forth an
ejaculation, draining me more thoroughly than anything
else ever had. I wasn't in control; the pulses were,
and each produced a searing, delightful spasm that
enhanced my joy.
	I was barely conscious when I realized that it was
over. I was dazed, drained, and debilitated after the
storm of sensations that had gone through me. Jim let
me lie there until I'd recovered, and then gently
began to remove the electrodes. When he pulled my
foreskin back, another thick gush of white cream
poured from it as he slipped out the electrode.
	"I could tell that that really hit you," he said. "I
don't think either of us could have another orgasm
today." I nodded agreement. With difficulty I pulled
myself to my feet and went to the shower, where he
joined me. We enjoyed the cascade of hot water pouring
over our bodies, and we carefully skinned back to
rinse away the accumulation of viscous fluids
underneath. Then we went to sleep cuddled in each
other's arms.
	Saturday morning we had breakfast together and then
Jim drove home. He phoned that afternoon to say he'd
been watching the news.
	"They identified Butcher through dental records." I
wasn't at all surprised.
	"There's more, Jack. Yesterday the D.A. announced
that he was dropping the attempted murder charge
against Colt after a judge committed him for
psychiatric treatment. There's still no word from the
cops that the crash was anything but an accident."
	"I guess they really don't know, or maybe they don't
want to open up that can of worms," I said. "You know
the cops. They're really concerned about copycats."
	"Yeah," Jim agreed. "If it became public that a
person or persons unknown was knocking off the doctors
who'd circumcised them, lots of people would be
getting out their rifles."
	"So far, the only doctors killed were those who
really were doing a lot of harm promoting
circumcision. There are a lot of innocent ones out
there and someone might make a mistake and snuff one
who wasn't involved," I said.
	"I know a couple like that," Jim said. "They really
hate to circumcise a baby, and they'll do it only if
the parents insist on it. They know that if they
don't, the parents will only get it done by somebody
else."
	"Still, Jim, doesn't their conscience bother them?"
	"Sure it does, but at least they make it easier for
the baby. They make sure they use a lot of local
anesthetic and they do a careful job. Other doctors
don't care. They don't bother to use any anesthetic
because they don't care how much the baby cries. They
just chop the kid, knowing that he can't complain
effectively."
	"Well, I guess now we just have to wait for the next
development," I said. What I really meant was that
sooner or later another circumciser would meet his
end.

Continued in Part 23