So, on the day of my appointment, I simply went to my familiar shopping center—at least, that's what I had thought until then.

I looked for the sign for the “P2 Day Clinic” and followed the very inconspicuous signage.

This brought me to an area I had not noticed before, or had virtually ignored – the noise and bustle of the people in the center became quieter, and I found myself standing in front of an inconspicuous satin-finished glass door with the inscription “Project P2” and a small, almost overlooked bell right next to it with the inscription “please ring.”

Since my appointment had arrived, I did just that.

A soft buzz sounded and I was able to open the door.

So now I was standing in the “antechamber/reception” of the clinic.

At first I didn't see anyone – but then a pretty young woman, whom I estimated to be in her early 20s, rose from behind a counter and approached me with a smile.

“You must be Mr. Maier—our appointment for 4 p.m.—I'm Nurse Elsa,” she said—only then did I notice that she was wearing the appropriate uniform.

With a dry mouth and overwhelmed by the sight of her, I stammered, “Yes, that's me.”

“Good, then please follow me to room 3.”

“That's where we'll do the admission.”

“You can leave your coat etc. here,” she said, pointing to the coat rack next to her.

Almost as if in a trance, I followed her into that very cubicle.

My gaze fell on the rest of the furnishings—six cubicles, i.e., doors numbered 1 to 6 lined up next to each other—the anteroom/reception area, and a door labeled “Private”—all of which were white.

She closed the door behind me and instructed me to take a seat at the table there.

Everything was cool, white, and medical—in other words, functionally furnished.

“Well,” she began, “you are interested in our offer, as I can see from your registration...”

“Yes, it sounds very tempting,” I heard myself reply.

“First things first – we are not a ‘clinic’ in the sense of a real hospital – you will not receive E-Card services from us.”

“Nevertheless, under certain conditions, the pleasure of being treated here is virtually ‘free’ for you—that is, you don't pay in the conventional sense...”

“Interesting,” I thought...

Then she continued...

“You agreed to the terms and conditions, so I assume you know what you're getting into...?”

I swallowed, knowing that 90% of users click “OK” without reading, but I didn't want to be rude...

“Yes, I think so,” I replied, somewhat uncertainly.

Nurse Elsa noticed the tone but didn't respond.

“Good. Then let's start with your vital signs.”

How “boring,” I thought – then I heard her say, “Pants down and lie face down on the table,” in a tone that left no room for doubt.

Only then did I notice the small examination table and the boxes around it.

I did as I was told – pulled my pants down to my shoes and was just about to position myself on the table when I felt a hand on the waistband of my shorts from behind...

“Your underwear too, new patient,” and with a quick grab, she removed them...

Now I stood “bottomless” and somewhat confused in front of the nurse...

Skillfully and staring me straight in the eyes, she reached directly for my best piece...

And squeezed my penis and testicles together with one swift movement...

I was startled...

“Good,” exclaimed Nurse Elsa, “your reflexes are still working...” She let go and turned away from me again toward the cabinet.

“Hop to it—now get on the couch,” came from behind me on the left...

I “obeyed”...