The Doctor Robusto 4: physical examination

After the Dr. Robusto made his house call, I went to the lab on an empty stomach. I left the urine sample and, after they drew blood for the tests, I arrived at the office.

The place had the usual smell, that characteristic antiseptic smell of medical places: a mixture of disinfectant and sterilized products. There he was, the giant, as always, sitting behind the desk. So damn sexy. So morbid. He took off his glasses and, as he looked at me, his eyes emitted that predatory glint.

"Angel, good morning," he greeted me. He extended his hand as if he hadn't been at my house just a while ago, devouring me like a wild animal.

"Good morning, Doctor." I shook his hand firmly.

"Before we start with the examination, I'm going to ask you some questions." I nodded. "Is there a history in your family of... important illnesses?" Everything that came out of his mouth sounded like it had a double meaning.

"Aneurysm." I remained silent. I thought about whether I should tell him about the colon cancer history. Knowing the Doctor, the next thing he would subject me to would be a colonoscopy, and I didn't fancy having a camera inserted up my ass. Finally, I decided to tell him because, although he was a morbid bastard, he wasn't prone to lying to doctors: "Colon cancer."

"Have you had a colonoscopy?"

"Ten years ago."

"You should have another one."

"I knew it, damn it! What obsession does this guy have with inserting devices up my ass to fill me up like a piñata. Just stick your dick in me once and for all, damn it!" But something told me he wasn't going to do that. He was a twisted bastard.

"Okay, but later. I don't feel like it now." I smiled and blinked several times.

"Alright, Angel, but colon cancer is very serious. We won't postpone it too much. Tell me about your habits: work, diet, sports, vices..."

"I work part-time in an office and part-time on the move. I do swimming in the afternoons and rock climbing and caving on weekends."

"That explains a lot," he said with a look of revelation as he took note of everything.

"What does?"

"Your flexibility, your lung capacity, your self-confidence... You're used to making life-or-death decisions in a matter of seconds, aren't you?"

"Correct. I wouldn't say life-or-death decisions, but a bad decision can seriously compromise your physical integrity."

"I understand... So you're used to being suspended in the air and moving in extremely tight spaces," he thought out loud. The Doctor's eyes looked at me with renewed interest. "Vices? Alcohol, tobacco..."

"Occasional beer. Tobacco: a pack a day."

"You have to quit smoking now."

"Yes, I'd like to quit."

"You'll achieve it with me," he assured me kindly. "With the healthy life you lead, it's a shame you smoke."

"I know. You're right, Doctor."

"Drugs?" He raised an eyebrow...