Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
He helped Zoey twirl out of the borrowed garment and steadied her when she swayed slightly.
“Hi, Mack!” Her voice was muffled from behind the masks.
Even sick, Mack noticed she avoided addressing the skates they’d seen her with a few minutes ago. The twinkle in her eyes clued Mack in that she’d be a fun person to get to know.
“Hi, Zoey. I don’t feel good,” he admitted.
“My Daddy is the best doctor ever. He’ll help you,” she promised, walking along with them as they moved toward the door labeled Exam Room 2.
To Mack’s relief, she stopped a few feet from the door and didn’t try to come in. He nodded to return her wave and hoped she’d understand he didn’t have any energy to flop a hand around.
Dr. Richards closed the door and turned to look at Grey. “Go ahead and take all Mack’s clothes off and I’ll start a chart for this Little boy. I’ll send a few papers home with you, Grey, to fill out with Mack’s help for your return visit.”
“I never go to the doctor,” burst from Mack’s mouth.
“That changes today. It’s my policy. All Littles in my care come to see me regularly,” Dr. Richards said firmly.
Mack knew he wouldn’t be doing that but kept it to himself. He looked around for a gown as Grey stripped off his clothing. There was nothing sitting on the paper-covered exam table.
When he was naked, Dr. Richards looked up from the paperwork he was making notes on to say, “Up on the scale, Mack. Face out toward the room, please.”
Too miserable to even worry about being naked, Mack followed the directions and allowed the doctor to assess his height and weight. He stepped off the scale and let his Daddy help him onto the table with a sigh of exhaustion.
“Tell me how you feel, Mack. What’s wrong?” Dr. Richards asked.
“I think I got hit by a truck. My head and throat hurt. I feel beyond tired.”
“I’m sorry.” Dr. Richards pressed a hand against his forehead and looked at Grey. “Let me check your fever. Hop down and lean over the table.”
Grumbling at the energy it took to slide off the table just after climbing up there, Mack allowed Grey to help him into position. His eyelids immediately sank closed. After the snap of exam gloves being pulled on, Mack heard a tray being scooted over next to him. He forced himself to open his eyes and look over his shoulder. Immediately, he pushed his forearms against the padding to stand up. Grey quickly restrained him in position.
“Don’t be naughty, Mack. Littles always have their temperatures taken in their bottoms,” his Daddy reminded him.
“Is that like a law or something?” Mack demanded as he flopped back on the table. The last of his energy evaporated.
“It’s the best way to get an effective reading,” Dr. Richards assured him as he parted Mack’s buttocks and pressed a finger into his tight opening.
Mack turned his head to press his forehead against the cushioned top. He struggled to keep his body from reacting to the feel of Dr. Richards’ touch. The doctor was very thorough in lubricating his tight passage.
“Mack is very tight. I would suggest a treatment plan of steadily wider anal plugs to allow him to take you easier,” Dr. Richards suggested. “I’ll be glad to send home the time schedule I put together.”
“Thank you, Dr. Richards. I know that would help Mackie be more comfortable. I have a small set, but do you have a recommended set of dilators?” Grey asked.
“I do. I have one that stretches this area in small increments. Usually, that’s more comfortable for Littles. I’ll start making a care package for him,” Dr. Richards stated as he withdrew his finger.
“Whoa. Maybe I don’t want those,” Mack mumbled. A gasp wheezed from his mouth as the cold thermometer filled his bottom.
“That breathing doesn’t sound good, Little boy. Have you felt bad for a few days?” Dr. Richards asked as he twirled the device inside him, inserting it as deeply as possible.
“I was a bit tired yesterday and my throat felt irritated, but nothing like this,” he admitted.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Grey asked, sounding concerned.
“I blew it off,” he admitted, not liking the weakness in his voice.
“Tell your Daddy from now on, Mack. If I’d seen you last night, it’s possible I could have helped you avoid feeling so bad,” Dr. Richards told him.
Mack nodded against the vinyl. Coulda, shoulda, woulda. It didn’t make any difference now.
Dr. Richards patted his bottom as if consoling him. Mack knew no other doctor he’d seen actually cared that much about him. He decided to trust this doctor. Grey seemed to.
A few minutes later, he was allowed to sit back on the table as Dr. Richards changed into clean gloves. Mack could feel the squishy lubricant between his buttocks. He crossed his hands over his lap, hiding his genitals.