All Jenkinseses are 18+.
“I’ve never seen such a turnout for our annual flu program.” The school nurse poked her head out of her office to where a queue of hundreds of young men zigzagged down the corridor.. “Some are even coming back for second helpings!”
Jenkins tugged at the hem of his skirt. His ass felt horrible exposed, enduring the oggles of every one of his peers that had lined up to be vaccinated. Even his closest friend, Ryan, couldn’t stop staring down his top. “If you can roll up your sleeve - no, don’t take your whole shirt off!” Jenkins sighed, wiping his friend’s arm down with alcohol before lifting the syringe. “You may feel a little prick…”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Ryan leered, his hand slipping between Jenkin’s legs to caress the cock crushed between the soft thighs. Jenkin bit his tongue to stifle his shocked, breathy moan, turning beet red as his friend left without another word.
“You’re finding a way to reverse this, right?!” Jenkins pleaded to the nurse.
“Of course! It’s just that… flu vaccination season goes on for another two weeks… And you make such a good assistant...”
Jenkins sighed glumly. The next boy to step forward loomed overhead. Jenkins swallowed as he stared up into the face of his bully, Kevin. “Y-you may feel a little prick,” he stammered, as he slipped the needle into his foe’s arm.
“Don’t mind if I do,” the bully smirked, his hand moving under Jenkin’s skirt to roughly squeeze his balls. “The lads were taking bets on whether you had them chopped off! Guess there was barely anything there in the first place,” he guffawed.
“There must be something you can do!” Jenkins begged the nurse as Kevin sauntered away, high-fiving the line of boys as he went.
The nurse considered it. “Well… perhaps if you can bring me a sample of these ‘bees’...”
As the next patient stepped forward, Jenkins relaxed a little. It was the principal of the school, a serious and sober man in his 60s. Perhaps after we’re done I can tell him about how the other boys mistreat me, Jenkins thought hopefully as he prepared his syringe. They treat me more like an object to be pawed at than the classmate they knew. He smiled sweetly at the aging principal as he slipped the needlepoint into his arm.
“You may feel a little prick.”
“Don’t mind if I-”