Little Randy's Examination

Leaving his day-to-day life behind, Randall Price took off his business suit and put on his play clothes. Now he’s Little Randy, and his big is in charge. His voluptuous honorary “auntie” is a Dairy Maid at the Manley Dairy, and Randy’s ready for a creamy lunch.

But oh no! First he needs his checkup at the dairy’s medical clinic, where Dr. Busby will assess him, even if Randy needs to be bribed with an early treat from a Dairy Maid. That won’t completely soothe Randy’s mildly achy tummy. The doctor knows best, and Little Randy’s Auntie Brianna agrees an enema will fix him right up. Bending over for two new treatments turns Randy’s doctor appointment into a gay old time.

It’s the first time for Randy to enjoy a doctor visit.

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Here's a naughty excerpt:

One auntie left with pats and kisses, and the other spoke to the tall blond man in the white coat and fashionable glasses. A stethoscope hung around his neck, and a pair of clear exam gloves dangled half out of his pocket. Randy shivered at the sight. Gloves meant touching.

“Doctor, Randy’s been having stomach pains,” she explained.

“Indeed. Come into the exam room, Randy, and we’ll see what might be ailing you.” Dr. Busby looked Randy in the eye—they might be of a height but the doctor was a big. Randy dropped his eyes to stare at the speckled blue tile floor.

“Strip down to your skin and hop up on the table, please.” The doctor opened a chart and studied it while Randy lifted his arms for Auntie Brianna to peel his green T-shirt over his head. Then she tugged his elastic-waisted shorts down. The doctor glanced up, long enough to observe Randy in his diaper and nothing else. Then Auntie Brianna opened the Velcro tabs and took his diaper away.

Randy’s skin was bare, all right. He was a little, and littles had to be smooth. Only the light hair on his forearms remained—when Auntie Brianna bathed him she had shaved his chest, armpits, and legs, and what little remained of his pubic hair. She thought he’d missed a few spots, and put that straight razor much too close to his balls. They pulled up tight to his body now, and his peter drooped to flaccid against them. He shivered when the barest hint of the ventilation breeze kissed his bare skin. Especially it was chilly there.

“We’ll start with your blood pressure,” said the doctor, and the cuff squeezed his arm on one side and his auntie squeezed the hand on the other. Because—“Now we’ll take your temperature.”

He hated this part! Maybe… He opened his mouth for the thermometer the doctor was wiping dry.

“No, Randy. Unless you want to suck on something that has been in other bottoms.”  The doctor continued adding a glob of goop to his instrument of torment.

“No!” He should have thought of that! Auntie Brianna helped him lie down on the table on his side, with his knees drawn up. Another poot escaped. Served the doctor right if he was going to put that thing in Randy’s bottom. He sniffled when the doctor parted his cheeks, and a questing finger brought chilly goo to his pucker. He hated this so much! Was he too tight to let the thermometer in? He hoped so, and puckered harder.

Smack! Auntie Brianna swatted him hard enough to sting. “I told you, Randy, you will let the doctor do what is necessary.”

“Ow!” he squawked for the sting and for the indignity, but he lost his concentration and his hole loosened. The doctor slid the thermometer in, and Randy had to endure the narrow rod in his bottom and the doctor’s broad hand against his cheeks to hold it.

The doctor didn’t think holding still was enough—he pushed the thermometer in deeper, and then withdrew it an inch. Then he tried it again. The thin glass rod probed for Randy’s temperature, and his hole couldn’t do a thing about it. Auntie Brianna held both of his hands now, and she didn’t tell the doctor to stop.

Finally! The doctor slid the thermometer out, and dabbed the goo away from his hole. Why did that have to feel good?

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