Doc and the Working Girls - Sex~Kitten.net

I worked in Nevada for most of my adult life. For many of those years I moonlighted as an insurance biller for one of the doctors in a very small town in what I call the Outback of the State of Nevada. The town was within 30 miles of the California border, but the closest town was over 70 miles away.

Now, as many of you know, Nevada has legalized prostitution. It is very closely regulated even down to when the working girls can be on the streets (not working) and how often they have to get tested by a physician (weekly). There were three brothels within driving distance from our town, most often visited by the miners working in the area.

Doc had moved to our town to go into semi-retirement. That didn't quite work out for him. He was the only full time physician in town and the others rotated out of the local "stabilize and transport" hospital...but the rotating doctors did hold office hours. They were mostly young doctors, just out of med school, and really uptight little twits. They got their hours in, paid off some of their bills, and as soon as they were able, moved on to better (city) jobs. But Doc worked in his semi-retirement for at least 20 years. Doc was also conservative, but not like the rotation docs. He was not judgmental. The rotation docs would often refuse to either treat the working girls or, if they did, refuse to do all the tests to keep them healthy. That's where their judgmental side came in...they didn't approve of the working girls' jobs.

Well, Doc didn't judge. He would treat the working girls just as kindly as he treated Old Mazie who was 86 years old and really came to see Doc, not because she was sick, but because she wanted someone to talk to at least a couple of times a month...and he made time for her. He was one of those old docs that really listened to their patients. He knew as much of the lives of people in town as he knew of their illnesses. Anyway, Doc treated the working girls just the same as he treated Old Mazie...and they respected him for that. In fact, the old Madam, who was as tough as they come, would really get after any of her girls (the new ones) who tried to stiff Doc on his fees.

The girls came into the office every Monday. The Madam would get them together in her old van and haul every one of them into town for their weekly tests. This one Monday they all got into the office and they were all giggly and giddy. Usually, after a weekend, they were rather quiet and tired. But this Monday morning was different. Even the old Madam was taking part of the general lightheartedness. It finally came time for this one girl to go in and get tested.

Doc was as respectful of the girls as he was of me when I had to have the yearly tests done. He would give us the drape and then discreetly leave the room as we disrobed and got up on the table. This Monday morning he knocked lightly on the door to see if the girl was ready before he and his nurse entered the room. They went in and a few minutes later there was a roar of laughter from the room. We could all hear the deep tones of Doc's laugh, the lighter tones of his nurse, and the high, childlike giggling of the patient.

The working girls had decided that Doc needed a treat. Before they left the brothel that morning they had painstakingly cut and tied about 25 little, itty bitty ribbons to the pubic hair of the girl. When Doc lifted up the drape his eyes bugged and then he burst into laughter.

Because he had treated them like human beings, the girls treated Doc. We never let him forget it, and from time to time one of the girls would tie a ribbon to remind him they still liked him.