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There were two things he’d brought with him and had set on the table. The first one was a glass jar filled with a clear, viscous fluid, and the second was something horrifying that Kiet had seen once and had never known the purpose of, but suspected he’d learn. It was a metal cylinder half as thick as his wrist and as long as his forearm, with a spout at one end, and at the other, a handle that consisted of three metal loops all in a row, with the one in the middle set above the two below it, which were closer to the body of the cylinder.

“Don’t be nervous,” Doctor Falhall said in the gentlest voice Kiet had ever heard. The words weren’t necessarily comforting, but by the tone he knew everything would be all right. “This is a simple procedure. I’ll need you to remove your trousers further to expose your penis.”

Kiet’s mind was slow to assemble the pieces. Fallhall took the metal object by the middlemost loop and stuck the spout in the medicine jar. He then pulled back the loop, activating a suction that drew the medication into the contraption. Falhall followed the fluid line down until he’d gathered all of the substance into the device.

Kiet, eyes on the device, pushed his trousers down to mid-thigh. “What is this medication?” he asked. “Where does it come from?”

Falhall paused. “It’s—” He said something in what sounded like Latin. Kiet understood not one syllable.

“And what is...” Kiet repeated a garbled version of the words.

“It’s a gel produced by an aloe.” Falhall gave him a comforting smile. Plant tonics Kiet could handle. “And the device I’ll be using to instill it is called a syringe,” Falhall explained while he approached Kiet with the contraption. “Using this, I’ll inject the fluid contained within into your bladder through the opening in your penis.” He pulled up the guest stool and sat on it at Kiet’s bedside, facing his abdomen.

“Uh?” Kiet didn’t have the words to form a coherent question. He didn’t know what he’d expected.

Falhall took a gentle hold of his cock and Kiet watched, eyes shifting between the doctor and the syringe.

“Is the opening being this wide normal for you?” Fallhall asked, inspecting Kiet’s cock.

Kiet grew self-conscious. “No. It was wider after the amenji passed, but has healed some since.”

Falhall nodded. “Okay. Relax all your muscles. We need the fluid to settle inside you, and tensing will prevent it from passing.” He rested Kiet’s cock in its normal position, and, holding it gently by the middle, wiggled the end of the syringe—wet with leaked medication—into his urethral opening.

It felt...not at all how Kiet expected it to feel. The medication and the device were unpleasantly cold, and when the nozzle sank into him several centimeters, until the head of his cock rested against the cylinder, the firmness of it was worrying. But it didn’t hurt. Whether it was a property of the medication itself or his urethra had still not returned to normal since the amenji had passed, he couldn’t know, but it wasn’t painful.

“Stay relaxed.” Falhall rested his free hand on Kiet’s abdomen and he involuntarily flinched.

Kiet looked up and made inadvertent eye contact with the doctor, then glanced sharply away and closed his eyes. If he watched, this would be worse.

“I’m going to begin injecting the fluid. Try your best to relax.”

Cold slime entered his urethra and Kiet fought the urge to pull away or to tense against the invasion. Falhall took the head of his cock between his forefinger and thumb and pinched it—Kiet’s eyes snapped down—to seal his urethra around the base of the nozzle. Medication glinted on Kiet’s cockhead. He gulped and closed his eyes again.

The cold gel invaded the length of his cock. Kiet reminded himself on repeat that this was a necessary procedure if he didn’t want to contract amenji in the future, and told himself again and again that this was leagues better than the pain the creatures had put him through. He’d survived that and could get through this.

“Relax,” Falhall soothed. He rubbed his palm over Kiet’s belly, which somehow did make him relax a little more.

Kiet took a deep breath and released it on a count of five. The fluid crept past the base of his cock and deeper inside him. He wanted to resist again, but Falhall continued to pat his belly, and between his warmth and the gentle reassurances he continued to give, Kiet was able to endure.

The fluid entered his bladder and Kiet made a muffled sound.

“You’re doing great,” Falhall praised. “Very good. You’re doing great.”

He lay there for he didn’t know how long. Kiet’s bladder expanded—and it was so bizarre to feel that process—and he glanced down to see the plunger half descended. Halfway through. Okay.

A particularly thick bit of medication entered his urethra and he cringed. Along with the rest of it, it was forced through by the syringe, but unlike the rest of it, it elicited a faint tingle of pleasure as it passed through his prostate and into his urethra.

Kiet gnawed the inside of his cheek. Shit. He hadn’t expected it to feel kind of good. Doctor Falhall continued to rub his abdomen as he injected the last of the fluid and Kiet tried to make sense of why that was pleasant and why he was okay with the fact that it was pleasant.

Doctor Falhall pulled the nozzle out and Kiet let out a long breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

“That concludes the treatment,” Falhall said. He stood and dropped his contraption off on the table. “I need you to hold that fluid within you until midday, at which time you may release it.”

Kiet sat up. The fluid within him shifted oddly—so much differently than the way much thinner urine would—and he cringed. But still—it somehow still felt good. It wasn’t sexual pleasure, but rather that of extreme comfort, like being wrapped in a pelt in front of a fire with a strong mug of honey wine. It was good and Kiet tried not to think about all the reasons it shouldn’t have been.