Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

“ D addy? I’m really tired. Can’t we go back home?”

“Soon, Mackie. We’re going to see Dr. Richards first.”

Vaguely, Mack remembered hearing this same conversation before and realized he must be repeating himself. “I’m sick, aren’t I?”

“You are sick, Little boy. Dr. Richards will help you feel better.”

“I don’t have any insurance.”

“That’s not a problem, Mackie. Daddy will take care of you.”

Mack forced an eye open when the car paused and saw an enormous gate open in front of him. A few seconds later, they progressed down a long, curved drive until a large mansion appeared. This didn’t look like a doctor’s office.

“Um.”

“Trust me, Mackie. Dr. Richards is highly recommended by others in the ageplay community.”

“There’s an ageplay community?” Mack forced himself to ask.

“Yes. There are a lot of Mommies, Daddies, and Littles in town.”

Mack just looked at him in confusion. It was too much to think about.

Grey had just parked the car in the curved driveway when the front door crashed open and a young woman ran out, holding a pair of roller skates over her head. She stopped in her tracks and waved one skate at them with a giant smile before pressing her finger to her mouth, asking them to be quiet. With another grin, she re-hoisted the skates over her head and took off for the side of the house.

Mack turned to look at Grey as he tried to figure out what was going on. His Daddy chuckled and shared, “I think that must be Zoey, Dr. Richards’ Little girl. I would bet she’s been told not to get those skates within five feet of the pavement.”

Staring at him, Mack gave up trying to understand it. He glanced back to see Zoey disappear around the corner.

When his door opened, Mack allowed his Daddy to tug him out of the car. The supporting arm Grey wrapped around him helped Mack make it to the door. They waited for someone to answer the door.

A familiar figure appeared in the doorway. She struggled to get her second arm into an oversized white doctor’s coat and breathed hard. “Hi! I’m Zoey, Dr. Richards’ official doctor’s assistant.”

She stopped and looked at Mack. “Oh! You don’t look good.” Pausing, Zoey pulled out a mask out of her right-side coat pocket and put it on before grabbing another out of the left pocket.

When she was double masked, Zoey stepped back to wave them inside with the assurance, “My Daddy will make sure you feel better.”

“Zoey, your skates are missing from the time-out closet,” a deep masculine voice proclaimed as a handsome man walked into the reception area. “Oh, hi. You must be Mack and Grey. I’m Matt Richards.”

He walked forward to shake Grey’s hand and looked at Mack with a concerned expression. “Oh, you are a sick Little. Come on into exam room two. Let me take a look at you.”

Dr. Richards looked at the slight figure. “Zoey, I’ll need my coat back. We will talk about the missing skates later. It would be prudent for them to reappear while I am examining Mack.”

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.

“No hiding from the doctor. I’ll check out every bit of you, Little boy. I need this arm, please,” Dr. Richards told him as he wrapped his fingers around Mack’s forearm to lift it into position to take his blood pressure.

“Very good, Mack. I’m guessing you’re a runner.”

“It’s my favorite thing,” Mack admitted as he leaned against Grey, who stood next to the exam table.

“I’m glad to hear it. Exercise keeps your mind and body healthy. Grey, Mack lives with you?” Dr. Richards asked, using a device to check his ears. “A bit of fluid here.”

“He does. I plan to keep him with me now that I found him,” Grey told Dr. Richards.

Mack liked the firm tone of his voice. He didn’t hear any doubt creeping in to that statement.

“Perfect. You can administer Mack’s medication?”

“Yes,” Grey answered without hesitation.

“Look at me, Mack.”

It was so much easier to just let the men talk and only respond when he had to. Mack opened his heavy eyelids fully and cringed a bit as Dr. Richards turned the light toward Mack’s eyes.

“Open wide,” Dr. Richards instructed. He looked into Mack’s nose, mouth, and throat. “Stay open. I want to swab that throat. It looks very suspicious.”

Mack made a face as the tip of the swab rubbed over sore spots. “I don’t like that,” he complained as Dr. Richards placed the device into the testing container.

“I’m sorry, Mack. I bet that didn’t feel too good. Let me listen to your chest and then you can rest a bit,” Dr. Richards said sympathetically before quickly checking his lungs with the stethoscope. “The good news is I don’t hear a rattle in your chest. You can thank your Daddy for getting you to the office before this became extremely serious.”

Dr. Richards looked over at Grey and told him, “I’ll take a blood sample today to see what nutritional support he needs, but I’d guess it will all come back normal. I’ll send home a general vitamin to bolster his immune system. What do you do, Mack?”

“He’s a server at Armando’s,” Grey answered for him.

“Armando’s? He has the best sauce. Zoey comes home with more marinara on the outside of her than the inside,” Dr. Richards said. “I’ll have to bring her to sit in your area. When she earns a treat, that is.”

Dr. Richards ran his fingers down Mack’s spine, making him sit up straight. He checked a few places on the back of his skull. When he touched a spot low on his head, Mack groaned.

“Sore or painful?” Dr. Richards asked.

“Sore,” Mack croaked.

“Time to lie back on the table, Mack,” Dr. Richards directed. He and Grey helped him stretch out.

Mack sighed with happiness. If only he had a blanket and they turned off those lights.

Dr. Richards pressed various places on his chest, even doing what felt like a breast exam on him. The pinch to his nipples made Mack glare at the doctor.

“I’m a guy.”

“Watch your tone, Mackie. I will spank you if you’re rude,” Grey told him in a tone that made Mack realize he wasn’t joking.

“I realize that, Mack. Men get breast cancer as well,” Dr. Richards explained, as if having a patient warned about punishment was an everyday occurrence.

“Sorry.”

“Tell me. Is your stomach sore?” Dr. Richards asked, pressing on various places on his abdomen.

“It’s not bad. My head and throat are much worse,” Mack replied.

“There’s a lot of congestion here, Grey. I’ll need to treat that, and you’ll need to check for his discomfort. Come, put your hands here on his lower abdomen.”

“I can feel some hardness there under the muscles,” Grey told him.

“His abs are strong. You’ll have to press steadily to feel it. Let me show you another way to double check. Help me put Mack’s feet in the stirrups,” the doctor requested as he lifted metal braces into the air.