This story contains mature content, adult themes, nudity, clothes and sneaker destruction and shaving. If you object to any of this, or it is illegal for you to read such things under the law of the country you are in, then read no further. Ben would like me to remind you that this story is based on a fictionalised version of Ben and any resemblance to any other person past or present is purely coincidental.

What will Christmas bring for our Ben in his brand new home? Peace and goodwill? Ummm, well... I'll just say Merry Christmas one and all!

The Adventures of Ben Bronx: Ticked Off

"Um, through there?" Ben asked the receptionist.

"Yes, dear,” the older female receptionist said, peering over her spectacles. “Straight through. They'll call you in."

Ben hobbled down the corridor of the drop-in centre. His leg was really painful now and he was glad he had opted for the baggy joggers today. It was not a look he would normally contemplate in public.

Sitting down in the sparsely populated waiting room, he maintained the convention of sitting as far away from anyone else as was possible. The room, perhaps better described as a corridor that had got ideas beyond its station, was decorated by festive elements long past their sell by date. Scratched baubles, threadbare tinsel and a fake plastic tree that would have looked dated in the nineties. It was an allegory for life, concluded Ben, his mood grumpier than normal.

Within thirty minutes he was called into the consultation room. The wait, in comparison to the norm, was mercifully short and he gladly left the room that seemed draped in the pall of Christmases past.

"Hi, Ben. Please sit down."

For the second time today, Ben was glad he had worn the baggy joggers as they rather conveniently hid the instant boner he had popped upon seeing the doctor. He was young, male and hot; Ben’s three ideal things in a human. The tight blue shirt showed off his body perfectly and the tan chinos clung to his legs, showing off every contour.

"Are you okay, Ben?" the doctor prompted when Ben remained silent.

"Oh, um, yeh," replied Ben as he took a seat.

"Well, if you're okay, why are you here?"

"Oh. Um, right . . ."

The doctor flashed a warm smile, which caused further hardening in the pants area. "I'm just messing with you. A little doctor humour,” he explained to Ben. “So, what's ailing you? I saw you were limping . . ."

"Oh right! Ha ha," Ben replied nervously. "I think I might have been . . . bitten. It swelled up on my leg even while I was waiting."

The doctor pursed his lips. "I think I should probably have a look at your leg then. Hop up onto the table."

Ben got up and started towards the examination table. It was a bleak affair of light blue wipe-clean PVC covered in a length of paper towel.

"But before you do,” the doctor continued, “just slip off your joggers, please."

"Um?" replied Ben, caught off guard.

"All the way. Just put them on the end of the table," the doctor said nonchalantly as he washed his hands and arms.

Ben hesitated for a moment before kicking off the black Old Skool classic Vans he had chosen to wear today. He slipped down the joggers gingerly, trying to not knock the lump on his leg. It was angry, painful, and purple. Once he had placed his clothes on the edge of the table he jumped up, trying to naturally cover his erect penis that was straining at his tight shiny Ethika boxers.

The doctor finished his washing routine and approached Ben. He noted Ben's trainers, placed neatly onto his neatly folded joggers, and looked down to his own feet. Ben's eyes followed and he saw the doctor was wearing exactly the same pair of footwear.

The doctor smiled. "Well, it seems we have similar tastes! Now . . ." he said, turning his attention to the oozing lump on Ben's leg. At least he wasn't looking at the oozing lump in his 'athletic area', thought Ben.

"Ooo . . . that looks . . . ohhh." All the joviality and casualness had drained from the doctor’s voice, replaced by a tone that was not entirely reassuring. Ben gulped heavily.

"Have you travelled to Africa recently?" the doctor asked.

"Err, no?" Ben answered nervously.

"Are you sure? This is really important . . . Any relatives visited, any deliveries?"

"Oh, I had a pair of Yeezys delivered. I needed a new pair after, well . . . um . . ." he decided the doctor didn't need to know how he lost them in the mud. Nor the fact the farmer had ploughed the field the next day, utterly destroying them. "They were from someone in Morocco."

The doctor made a mmhmmm noise. "I suppose . . ." he muttered to himself. "Either I'm entirely wide of the mark or you're one of the unluckiest people on the planet."

Ben instantly knew which was more likely.

The doctor made a call on his phone and, after explaining the situation, uttered a series of cryptic responses like “I see”, “mmhmm”, “which is what I thought” and “Yes, it would be extremely unlucky”. He thanked the person on the other end of the phone and hung up.

He turned his attention back to Ben who was visibly concerned.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ben." He rested a reassuring hand on Ben's naked thigh causing a visible jump in his trunks. "The important thing is you're going to be okay. 100%."

Oh, good. That's reassuring, Ben thought, before letting his mind wander to the implied 'non-important' things and their implied not-okayness.

"It's just the next 24 hours might not go quite how you expected," the doctor said tentatively. He placed his other hand on Ben's other thigh, causing Ben to inhale sharply. "But you're in safe hands."

Safe hands were good, thought Ben, but safe hands lingering on his thighs were going to seriously complicate things in a short matter of time!

The doctor gave Ben's legs a little squeeze and stood up. He purposefully marched to the door and locked it before swiftly moving to the filing cabinet, pulling out a sealed envelope. He ripped it open and perused its contents. He tapped a few things into his phone and turned his attention back to Ben.

“So . . . have you heard of the Guatemalan Longhorn tick?”

Ben blinked several times. “Um . . . no.”

“I guess that was a rhetorical question. I would have been surprised if you had, to be honest. As I said, you’re going to be fine—we just need to remove the eggs. We don’t want them hatching. Have you seen that scene from Alien?”

“Ha ha!” laughed Ben nervously. “Doctor’s humour?”

“Um, no, actually. But that doesn’t matter as we’ll stop that from happening.”

“Ooo, okay, good!” Still reeling from this unexpected diagnosis, Ben could think of nothing else to say.

“I am going to have to ask you to strip and place all your clothes in this bag though,” the doctor went on. “Wallet as well. How did you get here?”

“Strip? Um, my car?”

He proffered a smaller bag to Ben. “Okay, car and house keys in this bag then. Do you live with anyone?”


“When did the trainers arrive and what have you done since?”

“Yesterday evening and I’ve been at home until I came here.” Ben paused for a moment. “Strip as in completely?” he asked again. That was almost as terrifying as the tick bite.


"Naked?" Ben shuddered.

The doctor nodded and offered a reassuring smile. "I won't be shocked; nothing I haven't seen before!"

He hadn't seen him before, Ben thought. He's bound to change his mind very soon.

“We might be able to contain this. The tick is not native here but due to climate change it could get a foothold and we absolutely don’t want that, Ben. It would kill a lot of people. So, I’m going to need your help.” He placed his hands on Ben’s thighs again. Ben wished both that he would entirely stop doing that and that he would keep doing it.

“I’m going to need you to do exactly what I ask,” the doctor instructed. “Do you think you can do that, Ben?”

“Mmhmm,” Ben replied, desperately trying to stop his cock from making his boxers any damper.

"Good. Okay, bag the clothes."

Before Ben had started removing his black Superdry tee, the doctor had started to unbutton his own shirt. He pulled it out of his tan chinos, leaving it hanging open for a moment, revealing a toned chest and a Nike waistband. Ben quickly pulled his tee shirt over his head to try to block out the all too stimulating sight.

However, once Ben’s tee was off and his vision restored, the first thing he saw was the doctor bending over and sliding down his chinos, revealing his taught Nike brief-clad arse. Ben stifled a whimper at the arse wriggling around in front of him as the doctor wrestled the tight Chinos off. Battle won, the doctor picked them up and deposited them, together with his shirt and Vans, in the see-through plastic bag. Ben continued to watch with barely contained excitement as the doctor picked up Ben’s Vans, joggers and tee and added them to the bag. It was kinda hot to have all their clothes mixed together, thought Ben—well at least almost all their clothes.

The doctor put the bag aside and leant on his desk, his amazing body framed by the skimpy briefs. Ben's cock was leaking even more now, making the wet patch on his boxers very visible. Without the tee there was nothing to hide it. Not that that was going to matter . . .

The doctor hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and slid them down his legs. He added them to the bag and returned to leaning on the desk, this time his half-erect penis on full display. Ben was frozen by the tantalizing sight.

"Your turn, Ben,” the doctor said with an encouraging grin. “Don't worry, we're all big boys here." His eyes drifted to the bulge in Ben's boxers. "Very big boys . . ."

Ben nervously pulled his boxers over his penis and down his legs. While bent over he pulled each of his white Vans socks off. He straightened up, quickly hiding his boner with the bunched-up boxers and socks. The doctor reached across to take the final items of clothing but Ben resisted. A small, pathetic tug of war ensued before the doctor won. Adding to Ben’s discomfort, the doctor's eyes lingered for a moment on Ben's huge dripping member before adding the socks and boxers to the bag and sealing it tight. He walked across to a metal compartment in the wall, pulled it open and bundled the bag into it. After he had shut it, Ben could read the words on the door:

'To Incinerate.'

More precum oozed out. While Ben was sad he was never going to see his Vans again, the thought of them melting together with the doctor's was pretty hot. The whole thing had entirely distracted him from what the doctor was doing.

"You're doing very well, Ben. Stage Two now."

Ben glanced down at the clippers in the doctor's hand. With a clack they burst into life. Ben involuntarily edged away from the advancing doctor but couldn't prevent the clippers ploughing through his chest hair. It didn't take long for the doctor to leave Ben's chest bare.

"The ticks are tiny and can hid in hair,” the doctor explained. “So, I'm afraid the protocol says it all has to come off. Arms up."

Ben reluctantly complied and after a few swishes of the blade, his torso was bereft of hair. The doctor stood in front of Ben checking he hadn't missed anything. It made Ben feel very uncomfortable.

"Okay?" asked the doctor.

Ben nodded unconvincingly as the doctor stepped towards him again, this time with the shaver pointed at Ben's head. When he stepped forward their cocks touched. Ben flinched at the intimate connection, noticing that the doctor was as fully erect now as he was.

"Whoops!" exclaimed the doctor. "That big ol' thing is getting in the way. It's like a mediaeval sword fight!" he laughed.

Ben had expected the doctor to disengage from the 'sword fight' but he didn't. If anything, he moved closer as he ploughed the blade down the centre of Ben's head. Ben wasn't concerned that much about his hair; he kept it pretty short these days. He was more concerned about how intimate this all was. He would never have dreamt he'd ever have someone shaving his head—moreso someone hot and completely naked—with their cocks rubbing up and down each other's stomachs.

Before long, the doctor said, "Just need to get the back. Can you stand up and turn around?"

Ben obliged and instantly flinched. His mouth formed a perfect O of surprise.

"Don't mind me!" the doctor said with a chuckle as his penis danced around a very intimate area of Ben’s posterior.

Ben shut his eyes and dreamt of The Next Generation.

The 'ordeal' didn't last long as the doctor spun him around. With a couple more swipes, Ben's eyebrows were gone and the doctor had dropped to his haunches. He shaved Ben's legs, carefully navigating around the swollen volcano. When he had successfully finished that task, his attention moved to Ben's bush, which was very much at eye level. He took a couple of passes, trimming it down before making a 'hmmm' noise. He grabbed Ben's cock between two fingers and moved it to the side to get to more of it.

The doctor giggled, waggling Ben's cock. "This old thing is really getting in my way! I really need to sort it out."

The doctor opened his mouth and slid his lips down Ben's penis, eliciting a gasp of surprise from the owner. Ben looked down in shock as the doctor moved all the way back and then fixed him with his puppy dog eyes. Ben quickly looked away.

"Don't worry, we'll soon have this sorted and then it's just your arse to do. You'll be finished then and you can repeat the same process on me. Then we'll do your leg. We have about twenty minutes before the Hazmat team is here. So, all good?"

The doctor was a fan of the rhetorical question, Ben thought, as he didn't wait for an answer before returning to consuming Ben's cock. It almost distracted him from the doctor's last statement; there was a lot to unpack. Namely, 'repeat the same process on me . . .'

Still, that could wait. Never look a gift horse in the mouth, as the saying goes. Especially so when you can stuff its throat full of your cock.

*  *  *

The last half an hour had been a bit of a whirlwind for Ben. He looked across the tent that had been set up in the car park and focused on the doctor who, like Ben, was completely shorn and naked but very unlike Ben, seemed to be taking it all in his stride.

Not that Ben didn't enjoy having the run of the doctor's naked body, he just thought he didn't deserve it. He had followed exactly the same process of removing the doctor's hair; he had got instantly hard as the curly mop of hair ended up on the floor. When he came to shave around the cock, the doctor put out a hand to stop him and said, "Why don't you do my arse first?"

Who knew that doctors kept a bottle of lube in their office?

A few minutes later, the Hazmat team had arrived and led them, still naked, back out of the building into the tent where they started the process of decontaminating them. It was a weird, humiliating experience being scrubbed down by individuals in bulky spacesuits and white rubber boots, but life kept throwing weird, humiliating situations at him. The men (or indeed women as it was impossible to tell) applied themselves diligently to their work. A bit too diligently for Ben's liking.

Once the decontamination was done, they were both put in hospital gowns. It was a covering at least but not exactly Ben's number one choice of attire. It was probably 261st, right after 'bright trousers' and white tee.

It was while they were waiting for a lift that Ben looked out of the tent’s translucent window and noticed his beloved blue Audi was not where he left it.

The doctor followed his gaze. "Ah, Ben,” he said in a consoling voice. “You need to brace yourself, okay? This might be a rough afternoon . . ."

Ben was then subjected to phrases like 'hermetically sealed' and 'secure biohazard compound', followed by words like 'incinerated' and 'crushed'—but he had zoned out by then. 'This was all a bad dream, yeh?' floated around inside his head, the notion re-enforced by the idea that some fittie doctor had been taking such an interest in him.

It was a short journey back to his house. The street was a hive of activity. Vehicles, flashing lights and lots of people in full white hazard protection gear. It was all very reminiscent of E.T.

His spirit animal.

The doctor led Ben to the back of his home, the smell of burning thick in the air. Ben wondered why he was still here; he seemed to be taking his duty of care to the nth degree. He was also getting distracted by the breeze that was blowing up his gown, making it billow out. He rested a hand by his side to try to prevent a revealing Marylin Monroe incident.

The smoke had been a giveaway but now Ben had full sight of what was happening. His garden was no longer an idyllic respite from the rigours of everyday life; it was a huge bonfire. A bonfire fuelled by a steady stream of his belongings that were being carried out in large see-through plastic bags and dumped unceremoniously on the pyre.

His cock twitched as a bag of his underwear landed in the fire and was almost instantly consumed, such was the inferno. A second bag quickly followed and he mentally conceded he had too much underwear.

'Had' being the operative word.

He was shocked when half of his sofa unexpectedly appeared through the doorway, apparently chainsawed in half to fit inside a large decontamination bag. It was a brutal image.

What followed was a mind-numbing procession of Ben's possessions as every item of fabric was cleared from his home; clothes, his mattress, carpets and curtains. There were at least six large bags of trainers.

Finally, the last few scraps of Ben's life were set on fire. A man proffered him a clipboard to sign and Ben duly obliged. The man explained that compensation for his belongings and car would be forthcoming and that the house would now be sprayed. It would take one week for the toxicity to reduce to 'an acceptable level for humans.' Ben decided he might leave it for two weeks. Just to be on the safe side . . .

But where was he going to stay? He chewed on his lip for a moment in contemplation. Without warning the doctor gave Ben a huge bear hug.

"I'm sorry, Ben. It must be hard."

Ben suddenly realised he was hard—and so was the doctor! Standing in full sight of neighbours and white-suited workers, he tried to pull away just enough to stop the 'jousting' going on between them. The doctor used the movement for a different purpose, snaking a hand between them and massaging Ben's cock through his gown.

"Um . . ." said Ben in a half-hearted protest, pinned to a pristine wooden fence.

"You'll stay with me, of course?” the doctor offered. “You can borrow some of my clothes too. We wouldn't want you naked all the time! Saj won't mind. Ooo, I mean about you staying—I mean, well, actually the nakedness too. Haha." He laughed nervously, then added, "He works long shifts at the hospital and always wants some fun when he gets home."

"Um . . . okay, thanks,” Ben replied uncertainly. “Can you, umm . . . umm . . . ooh . . ." Ben stuttered as he felt precum ooze out into the flimsy gown.

". . . stop? We've only just started!" the doctor replied cheerfully, enjoying the pleading in Ben’s eyes. He did feel bad for Ben but the whole situation had been such a turn on, from the intimate shaving to watching all of Ben's belongings go up in flames. He wondered what that must be like, having everything you owned get destroyed in front of your eyes. It must be tough, he thought, but Ben’s cock most definitely said he enjoyed it too.

He smiled at the thought that he was going to have at least a week to give Ben a thorough ‘examination’. He hadn’t quite managed to fully examine his tonsils the first time and he was absolutely sure Ben’s prostate needed checking. He had just the tool to do it. And so did his partner.

He wondered for a moment whether he should have said something when he had sorted Ben's leg. It was then he had realised the culprit was the Shorthorn tick, not the Longhorn, and thus Ben was in considerably less danger. In his defence, they were very similar, he mused. It would have been embarrassing to admit the mistake after he had shaved Ben from head to toe. Maybe things had gotten a little out of hand. Still, things were 'in hand’ now. Never look a gift horse in the mouth, as the saying goes.

The doctor’s musings were interrupted by the sound of the carol service drifting by from the church down the road.

"Oh come all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant!"

Ben didn't feel particularly faithful or joyful at that moment. More cold and miserable, if truth be told, although not as cold and miserable if he wasn't standing by the inferno of his life.

He felt wetness land on his nose and upon looking up, he saw the sky starting to fill with millions of snowflakes. They danced around, illuminated by the glow of the fire.

Ben sighed, and had to admit that sometimes the world was magical, mainly when humans weren't involved or when they weren't being their usual selfish selves. He dreamt of a world where material things weren't important, and not just because he had none left now either.

Wouldn't the world be a wonderful place if we all just did things for each other? If that was the only thing that was important, he mused, wouldn't that be the most magical thing ever?

The snow had started to settle. Ben let out a deep sigh; it was a beautiful sight to behold, and soon everything would be covered in a white coating.

Just like the doctor's hand had been.

Closing Music: P*ssing In The Snow - Kinky Machine

The Adventures of Ben Bronx: Ticked Off by sneaked666
Edited by sz1415sneakers

© 2000 - 2024