Chapter 31: Saturday's a Turning Point

When I woke up, the first thing I felt when consciousness truly asserted itself was a enormous sense of relief. All that nonsense of being forced to do things that were repulsive and humiliating was over; now I could go to classes without being worried that a teacher would try to use my body as an education aid. Not that I had anything against displaying my body publicly, when I lived in Japan my family would go to the onsen where we would bathe nude in the hot spring with other families and everyone was comfortable being naked together.

No, the repulsiveness was the way the Program forced sexuality along with the nudity, and that combination set the stage to humiliate the subject if he or she exhibited any reluctance to be objectified—sexualized. But I was still disturbed that although I was personally free from further abuse, there were hundreds at my school, and many more elsewhere, who had yet to endure the “benefits” of the Program.

Well, enough wool-gathering. My body was yearning for exercise, and the last time I had a good run was a week ago. I dressed for a run, did my stretches, and then enjoyed an hour-long run down to the park I had found last week and along a trail there. I had to be back in time for my PT appointment and wondered how that would go. What would they find? Good news, I hoped.

The clinic was in a little group of professional offices near the med school. I walked into the office and could see, just past the waiting room, a little gym with all kinds of exercise machines, padded tables, and racks of oddly shaped objects; wonder what those things were (cushions to prop parts of the body, I learned later). Soon I was called out of the waiting room by a really pretty lady, maybe in her thirties, whose name tag read Dr Sylvia McMatson. She led me to a small examination room.

“Kevin, I’m Dr McMatson and I’ll be doing your therapy. I specialize in injuries of the groin and that’s why Dr Worthington referred you here.”

“I didn’t know doctors also did PT.”

“It’s a doctor of physical therapy, but I also have a PhD in anatomy. I like working with people so I went into PT.”

“Oh, should I call you double-Dr McMatson then?” I joked.

“That’s not very original. My husband calls me that every time he says I get too uppity,” she laughed. “Kevin, before I start the exam, let me tell you what I’ll be doing because I don’t want you to be scared of some of the procedures. You know what acupuncture is?”

“Oh, yes; I’ve had martial arts training in the Far East where I grew up and I’ve had some acupuncture sessions to loosen my muscle tension and improve energy flow in my meridians.”

“That’s excellent, since from your referral, I think that your pudendal neuralgia might be both scarring and a tight muscle from a muscle spasm. I use acupuncture needles as part of the therapy for the muscle spasm as well as ultrasound and digital manipulation to reduce what we call neural tension.”

“How long do you think the PT will take?”

“Let’s see how you respond to the exam and we’ll take it from there. ok? I need you to take off your lower garments, you can keep your shirt on.”

She turned and began putting on latex gloves. Wow, right. I need to strip for this good-looking lady, and she’ll be handling my stuff, too. Hope I don’t get a hardon. Huh, she’s a mind-reader, too, judging by what she’s saying now.

“And Kevin, you know that I’ll be working on your perineum, it’s very likely that you’ll get an erection; guys usually do and it’s no big deal. In fact, I consider that a compliment,” she joked. “Ok, lay here on your back and put your feet in the stirrups.”

Hey, now I get first-hand experience with stirrups! Who’d I ask about that last week? This is so weird!

“Now you’ll get to see how we girls feel when we have our internal exams,” she remarked.

Damn! She really is a mind-reader.

“Now first, I’ll palpate your perineum. I’m looking for trigger points; these are areas in the muscle that can respond with a twitch or even pain when pressed. Let me know if you feel any pain with each press and tell me if the pain radiates—you know what I mean, right?”

“Yeah,” I grunted, because the pressure of her finger was causing my cock to swell. “OWWch! There! Wow, that really hurt!” My cock collapsed.

“Good, did it radiate?”

“Yeah, right down the top of my cock, sorry, penis, and a little to the thighs. Oww.”

“Down the penile suspensory ligament and along the transverse perineus muscle. There’s some nerve cross-talk going on and that could explain a lot of your penile pain. Let’s continue.”

She kept pressing but the only place where she found a strong response was that first one, and wow, did that light me up!

“Ok, Kevin, I need to really press there now. You’ll need to hold on. I felt an area of fascia tissue that didn’t move next to the trigger point. The nerve runs close by, the muscle around it is in spasm, and I think I felt the scar tissue. I need to move it around a little to free it up.”

She opened a little box and took a hot, damp cloth out of it, holding it over my crotch for a minute. Then she pushed her fingers into the skin of my crotch and moved them around in a little circle around that sore point. I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth and the sweat poured out of me for the fifteen or twenty seconds she rubbed it.

“I think I felt a little give there now, but that muscle spasm is really tight. Let’s try to release the spasm.”

She got a tray filled with little paper tubes and some alcohol wipes and then changed her gloves.

“These are like little acupuncture needles. They’re the same gauge but only an inch long. I’m going to see if this helps to reduce some of the spasm.”

She swabbed the area and then I felt a tiny twinge as the needle sunk in. Suddenly there was a weird sensation, kind of a bouncing, it was making my cock stir again and I grunted.

“Kevin, all I’m doing is moving the needle up and down over the muscle to kind of get its attention so it lets go—ah, did you feel that?”

Wow. My groin felt like a rubber band had snapped. “Yeah. Oooh. Something happened.”

“Yep. Sure did.”

I guess she had removed the needle because now she was massaging the area pretty hard and I was tingling all over down there—and my cock was rigid now.

“I’m just getting your qi flowing again there. I felt the muscle spasm release and see that your body liked what it felt too,” she finished with a laugh. “Now let’s do that trigger point again and see if the nerve also liked it.”

She pressed against that area again and it still hurt a lot, but way less than before, and I told her that.

“That’s a good sign. That’s enough for this session. We need to do some work on mobilizing that scar tissue the next time. I’m giving you a page of exercises you’ll need to do to stretch the pelvic floor muscles, particularly those that attach to your legs. Do you know what the Kegel exercise is? Good. Do NOT do that. Your pelvic floor is tight enough as it is, you need those stretches to open it up. Finally, you should put a cold pack on your perineum when you get home—wrap the pack in a towel—for ten minutes an hour for the next three hours. The abuse I gave to that area will cause a little swelling. The extra blood flowing to the area is important but too much swelling is bad. Ok? See the receptionist for your follow-ups. You responded really well today so I think five more sessions starting Monday and then spaced about three days apart will work fine. Then at the last one we’ll evaluate you again.”

I left and as I walked out I felt the whole area tingling, as if it was waking up. It really felt strange and now I could feel the tightness of my muscles down there, and that reminded me that during my last year of taekwondo classes, I hadn’t been able to get the full leg extension that certain kicks needed. That made sense now. I need to get back to my training. Maybe I can check out Bob’s dojang later today.

After icing my groin as instructed, I had a few hours before my date, so I went off to find the dojang. It was a fairly large facility in a strip mall not far from downtown. I entered the outer room, ringing a string of bells, and a voice called from further inside, “Enter.” I stepped through a door hung with beaded cords into a large room with mirrors on three walls and mats on an area of the floor. There was an elderly man in a white dobok standing before of a row of people similarly clad.

He turned and beckoned me closer. I slipped off my shoes and walked toward him, stopped, and bowed.

“Ah, would you be Kyosah nim Kevin, by chance?” he said in a rich voice.

“Sahyun nim, the honor is undeserved, sir. I am a humble sunbae of the Art.”

“Sahyun nim Bob has spoken to me regarding you. You have studied in the homeland with a renowned master, Kwanjang nim Park. I should want to see what you have learned from him, so you shall teach me and I shall perhaps learn more. So for that reason I have called you ‘teacher.’ Will you be favoring us by studying with us?”

“Yes, sir, I would like to.”

He bowed and I returned the gesture. Then he turned and clapped his hands.

“Students! Let me introduce Kyosah nim Kevin, who has studied in Korea for five years and has attained the third degree. He has already made his mark on our community by subduing two criminals who attempted to hold up a convenience store last week—yes, this is he,” he said as the group began to murmur. “I hope that I can convince Kyosah nim Kevin to share some of his learning with us all as he studies at our humble facility.”

I bowed to the group and they returned my bow.

“Kevin, for ordinary conversation in my dojang, we dispense with formalities unless we are teaching, so you may call me Kim; I’ve adopted my family name as my first name. Are you able to join us now? We’re just reviewing forms.”

“Yes, sir, that would be great. Let me get my doboc and duffle from the car.”

“There’s a locker room over there, son,” he pointed.

I dashed out and back and changed into the uniform. It felt funny; the last time I wore it was in April, back home in Korea. I tied on my adult dhee with its single bar. Then went out on the floor.

Sahyun nim Kim looked me up and down. “No, no, Kyosah Kevin, that won’t do. You are third dan, not first.”

“Sir, I was third poon. I just tested for my dan in January.”

“A formality. Third poon levels in Kwanjang nim Park’s academy must demonstrate every form and pattern that the dan levels achieve. In the association we belong to here, we don’t make that distinction because youngsters rarely achieve levels higher than the first. Your level in my dojang, and in this region, is third dan.”

“Thank you sir, I shall try to meet your expectations.”

I exercised with the group and it felt good going through my routines. I stretched and went through the basic forms and patterns alone; the class wasn’t sparring today and I didn’t want to work with a partner yet. When the class was over, I discussed the class tuition with Kim and he told me to wait until he could watch me spar; if he felt that I could teach in his facility, then he would give me a reduced fee.

I picked up Denise for our date in the early evening and I quickly saw that she had been crying. I handed her the flowers I brought; she took them, kissed me, and brought them to the kitchen. Then she returned.

“Thanks for the flowers, darling, Mom is taking care of a vase for them.”

We walked out of the house.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? You were crying? What happened?”

“Oh, Kevin, Mom says we have to move for six months!”

“What? And why and where?”

“Her job. They told her Friday. She knows how the two of us have made a deep connection and was trying to figure out how to break it to me.”

“What’s this about?”

“You know her company has a factory near Atlanta? They want her to go there for six months; it’s a big promotion and means an incredible opportunity for her.”

I had started driving to the restaurant I had picked out to go to; my plan was dinner and movie. Very creative.

“Listen, let’s talk about this at dinner. I’d like to hear all the details, ok?”

“Mmm hmm.”

I was quiet until we got to the restaurant; my mind was churning. Soon we were seated and reading the menu. After we ordered, I asked her to tell me what she knew.