Dr. Schaffer led Dylan to a room two doors down from his office, letting go of his hair and shoving him through the door and into the room and sauntering in after him. “This is more like it.”
Dylan looked around, his gaze immediately landing on the padded examination chair taking up center stage in the room.
It had stirrups.
“Sit on that.”
Dr. Schaffer pushed Dylan toward the chair, the shove almost knocking him over, while he headed over to the cabinet by the wall. Dylan took a careful seat at the very edge of the padded chair, watching as Dr. Schaffer retrieved a pair of leather gloves from the cabinet and held them up for Dylan’s inspection.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said, putting them on and smoothing the supple leather down over his fingers. He shot Dylan a crooked grin. “I prefer these to latex. They feel better, you know?”
Dylan couldn’t imagine that the gloves were part of the room’s usual equipment, which made him wonder exactly how often Dr. Schaffer did this.
He looked down, the sight of Dr. Schaffer’s big hands encased in leather making him feel all funny. He resolutely ignored the stirrups on either side of his legs.
“Well? Do you like the look?” Dr. Schaffer asked, splaying his fingers wide and holding them up for Dylan’s inspection.
It took Dylan a few awkward seconds to realize that he wanted a response.
“You look nice,” he said. The compliment was sincere, but Dylan quickly got the idea that it hadn’t been quite what Dr. Schaffer was after. He scrambled for something else to say. “Very hot. Your muscles are very big, and I like your face.”
As soon as he’d stopped talking Dylan wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.
I like your face?What waswrongwith him?
Dr. Schaffer’s grin went from cocky and somewhat aggressive to fond. “Thank you, Dylan. I like your face, too. Now lean back so that I can hook you up to the colonic-machine and clean out your insides.”
A startled laugh burst out of Dylan’s mouth, but when Dr. Schaffer just raised his eyebrow, he realized that he was serious.
“Is something funny?” Dr. Schaffer asked, wheeling a large machine over from the corner of the room. It was gray, with a host of weird dials and buttons, and it had a sturdy rubber tube sticking out of the side connecting it to the wall.
“I-” Dylan cleared his throat and stared at the machine, not sure what to say. He finally settled on a question. “Isn’t that a bit much?”
Dr. Schaffer chuckled, the sound a low rumble coming from deep within his chest. He walked right up to the chair, pulling the colonic-machine with him, and stood between Dylan’s legs.
“This is just the beginning. I am going to havefunwith you.”
Dylan couldn’t breathe. Dr. Schaffer’s body was so close that he could feel the heat coming off his chest like a physical thing against his face, his presence looming and intense.
“I’m not sure I-”
“I’ll take good care of you. Now lift your legs.”
Dr. Schaffer held out his hands, leather stretched tight over his long fingers, and after a second Dylan realized that he was supposed to lift his legs and let the doctor take him by the ankles.
If he hadn’t been so turned on, Dylan would have objected and asked more questions, but instead he dutifully leaned back and lifted his feet.
“Good boy,” Dr. Schaffer rumbled, his voice dripping low. He took hold of Dylan’s ankles and moved his legs into the stirrups. “I’m going to make you feel so good. Don’t worry about a thing.”
Dylan had never felt more exposed or turned on.
Dr. Schaffer lifted the stirrups up and apart, making Dylan cry out in surprise. His legs were now over his body and spread wide apart.
His underwear-clad bulge and butt were on full display.
“You can spread wider than that,” Dr. Schaffer growled, pushing the stirrups further apart and forcing the muscles in Dylan’s inner thighs to stretch.
It was a good thing Dylan was flexible.
