Chapter 8
Eight
Riley
I’m startled awake by Sam’s loud presence.
Dressed in his large white coat, he tugs on a pair of fresh gloves.
I fell asleep early last night, my legs draped over him on the loveseat upstairs.
I don’t remember coming down here. Did he carry me?
I look down and I’m tucked in, but he pulls the wedges free.
This guy really likes his routines, doesn’t he?
I thought he was the same about strict schedules, but then yesterday he went off course, not only once but several times.
First the exam happened sooner, and then we ate cookies before dinner. My screen time ran over too, and I got cold, so he scooted close enough for us to share a blanket. By the end of the first movie, my legs were halfway over his and I didn’t realize how much I had moved during it.
“Morning,” he says, bringing me back to the present time.
“Morning,” I say, feeling like I’ve swallowed cotton when my mouth sticks together.
“Where’s your pain at?” He stands taller, legs knocking against the mattress.
“I . . .” I stretch my legs and arms as he loosens my blanket and there’s a dull ache in my knees. My head feels like clackers are knocking around inside it. “A five maybe.”
“Let’s see if eating, drinking, and moving around helps a little before going the pain med route. We don’t need you growing reliant on it.”
“Good idea.” I shuffle myself up in bed until my back is hitting the headboard.
Two vials sit on the nightstand and next to them are a packet of needles. My stomach swims and I lift myself higher in the bed. “What’s all this?”
“For the blood draw. One of the many tests we haven’t gotten to yet.”
“What time is it?” I shield my eyes when I crane my neck to look back at the window, lowering my face from the blazing sun.
His gaze drops to his watch and then returns to me. “Ten after nine.”
“What time do you wake up? It must be super early, huh?”
He crosses his arms, leaning more to the right. “Six a.m. It’s my internal clock. My body goes based on what it’s been used to for the last twenty years.”
“How old are you?”
His arms fall back to his sides. “How did this appointment turn into mine?”
“I’m not the one with gloves on standing over you in a lab coat.”
“No, but the focus has suddenly shifted and I’m being questioned as you’re trying to understand something.”
“I guess I kind of am.”
“And what would that be?”
“You.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t know. We’re spending everyday together and still have another week left of me being here. I thought it might be a good idea to know more about the man I’m staying with.”
“That makes sense, but I don’t think details such as my age are important for you to know.”
“You’re one of those people who’s way older than he looks, aren’t you? Don’t tell me you’re sixty and have really good genes.”
He huffs a laugh. “You aren’t very good at the guessing game.”
“It doesn’t count if I was just joking and not being serious.”
“Okay. Tell me something about me, then. What do you think you know about me after spending the last four days together?”
I tap my chin, giving him my best pensive expression. “You like long walks on the beach.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s supposed to be a serious guess, remember?”
I let out a drawn-out sigh. “Fine. You like reading a lot in bed.”
His lips quirk up. “I do. But that’s an easy one, since you stole my Kindle and it was under my pillow when you did.”
I rack my brain some more. “You like old western movies.”
“Do I really look like that type?” His brows bunch together.
“You like reading sci-fi and fantasy books.”
“Yes, to the fantasy.”
“Finally.” I punch the air. “I got one.”
“Yes. Only one,” he says sheepishly.
“Do you own all the Lord of the Rings movies?”
He hides his smile behind his hand, eyes no longer meeting mine.
“Oh my god. You totally do.”
His eyes lift to the ceiling and his lips fold into each other as he bites back a smile, nodding. “I totally do.”
“Ohhh we should watch them tonight. Or maybe start with number one since they’re long and—”
“You’re supposed to be on limited screen time?”
“Yeah, that,” I say with a sly grin. “So can we?”
“Sure. As long as we get through everything we need to do for the day, I don’t see any problem with it.”
“Cool. Will there be breakfast before today’s exam?”
“This will be a quick one, so breakfast will come after. We’ll eat together in the kitchen.”
“Okay, cool.” I stretch out my legs. “In that case, I’m all ready.” I slide down the blanket and tug down my gown when I realize how much of me is hanging out.
“Comfy?” He rolls himself toward me on his stool.
“As comfy as I can be right before being stuck with a needle.”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry. You’ll get through it like you have everything else. You’re my perfect patient, remember?”
There’s that pitter patter in my chest again. “Yeah. I remember. I just really hate needles.”
“A lot of people do. How about you focus on something else. Try closing your eyes and imagining you’re in the place you want to be most in the world.”
My eyes flutter shut, and everywhere I go in my mind he’s there.
Naked with me on the beach. Giving me a prostate massage on his couch while I watch more TV.
Him, probing me with his tongue on the exam table.
Wait . . . that’s not going to a different place.
He’s either traveling with me or we stay here.
I stay here. This isn’t my escape. It’s my prison. I have to remember that.
I open my eyes and he’s gently slapping a bandage on my arm, carrying a vial filled with blood between his fingers. Those proud eyes have me forgetting everything I’m supposed to remember. “You did wonderfully. We’re all done, you see?”
I feel like someone’s lit a firework inside me, burning brighter when he closes the gap to whisper in my ear. “So wonderful. My good little patient.”
The next cultures he takes aren’t as easy, and he uses a urinal to collect another urine sample, rubbing my belly when I struggle to empty my bladder.
My cock hardens the lower his hand goes, and I almost make a mess everywhere until he wraps his fingers around my base, holding me in place.
“Doing perfectly, sweet boy. We’re almost done, and you’re right where I need you to be for our semen collection. ”
I almost come on the spot, his fingers squeezing tighter as my last drops fill the bottle. He tugs it away, setting it on the nightstand. I jump when a cold wipe touches my skin and he cleans around my balls too, my tip leaking like a damn faucet.
“Save some of that for this cup,” he says, with humor lacing his tone.
I try to pull the pillows from behind my back and he stops me.
“You can stay how you are. You’re at the perfect angle.
I’ll grab some lube and drop everything off at the lab.
” Winking, he disappears outside the door, and I’m not at all prepared for what’s to come.
He walks in with a TENS machine, placing one lead on my balls, one on my taint, and another above my cock head.
Vibrations shoot through my body when he turns on the machine, driving me to claw at the sheets and kick my feet.
The slow pace is agonizing, and when he cranks up the speed I cry out, pressing my back harder to the pillows.
“It . . . It hurts.” But in the best fucking way.
His eyes light up. “Need to stop?”
“No. Please don’t.”
“We won’t, then, and I’ll help push things along.
” Rubbing a finger over my rim, he guides the cup to my cock, collecting as much cum as he can.
The machine shuts off and he shoves a finger in the cup, lifting it to his nose.
“Smells healthy. The color is good too.” I swallow a gasp when his tongue flicks over the tiny amount left on his finger.
“Tastes good too. So far, I’ve yet to see anything major to be concerned about.
We should talk about sleep therapy, though, so you don’t have to have those wedges under you forever.
I think I have a way to help you with your oversensitivity issues too. ”
“What do you suggest?” I say, blissed out and light-headed after the best orgasm of my life. I never knew it could feel so good. That having someone care enough to go out of his way to prevent me from falling sick could feel so good, filling a void inside me.
“Restraints for the restless leg and arm syndrome. I think helping your body feel more grounded will settle your mind more.”
“You’re going to tie me to the bed?” Excitement stirs inside me, and then I think about how he might leave me like that for days while milking my cock with more machines, and here comes the fear I subconsciously seek.
He gives me everything I need all at once, and this feels too much like a dream come true mixed with the perfect nightmare.
“Yes, but don’t worry, they’re hospital approved and not at all uncomfortable.”
“And my sensitivity issues?”
“Stimulation therapy. I’ll work with you three times a day, strengthening your ability to control what you’re feeling for longer. Would you like to try both of those things? Only thing is, I’ll need you here longer than what we originally agreed to.”
“Yes,” I blurt. “I want to get better, Doctor.”
“I know you do, sweetheart.” He strokes my cheek. “And you will. I’ll make sure of it.”
“I don’t think I can be restrained alone, though. I might end up panicking at the idea of there being a fire and no one being able to reach me in time to untie me.”
“Then you won’t be. You can stay with me in my bed. It’ll be easier to observe you that way, and it’ll save us some time at the next checkup. It won’t have to go as long. Sound good?”
“Yes. Thank you, Doctor.” I preen and he runs his fingers through my hair.
“You’re very welcome. You know I like taking care of you. You’re the best patient I’ve ever had.”
“Yes, I know.” I rub my face against his hand like a needy cat.