"We're staying on the Hot Deck," Ben answers as you make your way aboard the ship.
"The Hot Deck? Why's it called that?" you ask, studying a diagram of the ship.
"Because it is above the engine room," Ben explains, his nose practically touching the ship's diagram. "Can you see the engine room on this thing?"
A while later the two of you find your room. Your tiny room, with a bunk bed and only a thin floor between you and the mighty diesel engines which move the boat. Well, at least you didn't pack much and brought ear plugs in case Ben snores...
There is a knock on the door.
Opening the door there is a balding man wearing a ship's uniform and carrying some sort of doctor's bag. Around his neck is a stethoscope.
"Hello, I'm Doctor Payne!" he announces brightly, holding out his right hand. Ben mouths the word "Pain?" at you from across the room. "I'm here to give you your ship's physical. You know, to make certain you are healthy and ready for our activities, if you know what I mean."
You, of course, don't.
He looks at you, then looks toward Ben. Ben is, as usual, wearing clothes which look like they are about to fall apart, his hair is greasy and uncombed, face unshaven, and it is uncertain just how long ago he even considered bathing.
"Why don't I start with you," the doctor decides, looking away from Ben and directly at you. "Please remove your shirt, shoes, socks, and pants."
The exam starts off normally enough, with Doctor Payne looking into your ears, up your nose, down your throat, etc. Then comes the prostate exam.
"Please drop your underwear and bend over the desk," requests Doctor Payne, pulling on a pair of bright pink rubber gloves and caking his fingers generously with lube.
"Uh, why?" you ask, hesitantly.
"So I can examine your prostate, of course!" he replies cheerfully.
"Do I even need one?" you ask hopefully. "I'm only--"
"NONSENSE!" Doctor Payne practically shouts, looking almost angry. "ALL men should have their prostate examined! Too many leave it go for too long! Prostate cancer is the scourge of modern man! It MUST be caught early, and to do so you must have it checked often! I, myself, have mine checked every week by at least two doctors! I would suggest you do the same! Now bend over!"
Not wanting to upset him further, you comply. The doctor shoves a finger up you ass.
"Hmmm...," he muses, pulling his finger back. You think he is finished, and prepare to straighten up..., and he shoves what feels like TWO fingers up you backside! He feels around very thoroughly. Then what feels like his whole hand goes in! And it keeps going in, and in, and in!
"My goodness! I must get a witness!" announces Doctor Payne. "You! Please come over here! Put on those gloves and join me!"
You hear Ben move about, then something else goes up your poop chute.
"Hey, what am I feeling for?" Ben's voice says. He sounds just a bit TOO excited for your comfort.
"Just feel around and tell me what you sense," requests the doctor.
"Well, I think he had corn recently," Ben muses. You feel fingers poking around inside of you. "There is something kind of smooth and football shaped... Hey, am I feeling the inside of his scrotum?!?"
To you it certainly feels that way!
"Here, let me guide you," says the doctor's voice softly. Something moves in your bowels and the hand which seemed to be in your nut sack moves elsewhere, somewhere halfway between your backside and front-side.
"Oh hey! That's where I felt the football thing!" Ben says happily.
A knock sounds on the door.
"Come in! Come in!" calls out the doctor.
"Who?! What?!" you sputter.
"Don't worry," chides Doctor Payne. "That's just my nurse."
"Sorry I'm late," says a deep, masculine voice.
"Oh, that's okay," answers the doctor cheerfully. "Come join us, please!"
Footsteps and then ANOTHER hand goes into you!
"Hey! I've never felt one quite like this!" the nurse's voice announces. His fingers begin moving all over your interior.
Another knock sounds at the door.
"Maid service!" a cigarette damaged larynx calls out.
"Come on in!" calls out Ben.
Do you...?