Continued from A Visit to the Clinic
Emmie Summers wandered the wide hallway at the clinic. The place was certainly bigger than it looked from outside. She almost collided with a pretty red-faced brunette with a nose stud hustling out of an exam room. “Excuse me…” the girl said as she rushed past. Emmie spun to watch her then heard a distinct “Smack” from inside the door-she turned again toward the door but it was closed, then spun back, this time walked fully into a man coming the other way.
“Oof…” She was about eye level with a white embroidered “Will” above the breast pocket of his royal blue lab coat. One look up into his lidded green eyes and Emmie sighed ruefully to herself, “I certainly would…” because she hadn’t in months.
“Can I help you”, asked Will pleasantly.
“I’m sorry…excuse me…I’m here with a friend…just waiting on a friend.” He cocked an eyebrow questioning. “Shannon”, she blurted. “Shannon Deavers.”
“Shannon?” he said seemingly delighted at the news. “We love Shannon!”
“Yeah, she’s the best…”
“Been friends long?”
“Oh-a year or two then”, he said smiling.
“I wish…” She said, flashing a quick grin that dissipated too quickly.
“You okay?”, he asked looking after the fleeting smile.
She waved her hands to take in everything around her. “Doctors, nurses…all the medical stuff…makes me…”
“White coat syndrome, huh?”
“But I’m wearing blue”, he flashed his own smile that didn’t go anywhere and took her by the elbow. “Here,” he said opening and leading her through a door. “Let’s step out of the hubbub, bub.”
His office was softly lit from by the light coming through the blinds and soft reddish glow of the…
“Is that a lava lamp?” Emmie asked delightedly.
“I haven’t seen one of those since college.”
“Does the same thing for me as an aquarium without the upkeep.”
The desk was in front of the window and a leather examination table, scale, sink all were against one wall.
“Here-sit.” He guided her to a plush leather chair as he leaned against the desk. “Just chill in here for a bit. Shannon’s going to be another thirty or forty minutes…”
“What’s she having done today?”
“You’ll have to ask her that-you know with patient confidentiality and all.”
“Oh Jesus!” she said. “I’m sorry…I didn’t even think…”
“No worries, no worries. We’re just talking here….”
He saw her eyes slide over to the lava lamp and watched the red orbs of wax bloom, float to the top and snap to fall back and repeat. He smiled as she watched. “See? Told you. Bet your blood pressure’s dropped ten percent since to you got here.”
She smiled…”I used to love these things…”
“Hey”, he asked. “Would you like me to do a workup on you? You’re here and all…”
“Ahh…no…that’s….Naw. That’s OK….Ah…I don’t think my insurance will cover it….” she blathered nervously.
“Not to worry-on the house. I’ve had two cancellations this morning…”
“Yeah, right? Sisters. There will be plenty of spankings at the end of the month, I can tell you that” he joked. But was he joking? She remembered the smack from outside that room. “Point is, I have the time. We could do this…or you can sit here and look at the lava lamp for the next half hour.”
She stepped into the changing room that felt more like a country club locker room with maroon walls, soft recessed lighting, redwood bench and a shelf with folded gowns. She watched herself in the mirror as she unbuttoned her blouse and placed it on a hanger. Then slipped her sandals off and under the bench and, with a pause for reflection, unsnapped and lowered her capris, likewise hanging them.
She stared at herself in the mirror. She was fine. She was normal for…she wouldn’t even think “for a woman her age.” But truly, she was fine. Normal. Shannon was the freak with her long legs and slim bottom. Emmie turned and looked at her backside. I’m normal, she thought. Fine, she thought yet again. He had said take everything off so she pushed her panties half way down, paused looking over her shoulder and pulled them back up. Panties can stay, she decided. Without a thought she slipped off her bra and stepped into the gown. Her fingers shook as she tied it behind. Idiot, she thought. With a final glance in the mirror she stepped was back into the office where Will was drying his hands.
“Here you go-hop up”.
He managed the basics efficiently. Eyes, ears, nose and throat. Pulse, blood pressure, all good. Reflexes-her knee bounced as she guessed it was supposed to. But there was something else she didn’t expect to feel. There was a little buzz-like an electrical charge-where he held her knee in place.
“Lay back”, he said holding the back of her neck to help her down.
He pushed the gown up over her belly to prod and poke at her abdomen. She was fine with it-wasn’t a washboard but flat enough. He pushed the gown a little higher and she closed her eyes realizing her nipples were hard. If he pushed it one more inch…but he didn’t. Surely though, he had to have noticed.
“What do you do? He asked?”
“I’m a chef.”
“Really? Where do you…hey wait-did you used to cook at Umbria??
“Yes, how did you know?”
“I just remembered having a conversation with Shannon about restaurants once and she said she had a friend who cooked there…Here-roll up on your hip”, he said in a softer tone-as if speaking to someone else in the room. She yielded to the pressure of his hand on her hip and rolled, nestling her head on her elbow.
“I’m not there anymore though. Left about six months ago-freelancing now…”
“Catering?” he asked, then in his side voice, “Lift up please.”
She did, not even registering what he had asked until she felt her underwear slide down completely off her bottom.
“Hey!” she said startled.
“Yes?” he asked innocently.
“I didn’t realize…”
“I did ask you to strip naked…”
“Yes, OK…just startled me, is all.” She giggled nervously. “You are a doctor, right?”
“That’s what the papers on the wall say.” She felt his hand lift her cheek gently and something slide into her bottom. She hissed through her teeth. “It’s just a thermometer”, he said.
“I haven’t had my temperature taken like this in….”
“Hopefully you don’t remember when…” he said jokingly.
“Ah, you’re fine” he said with his hand resting collegially on her bare hip. “You’re relaxing already-not clenching. So, catering?”
“Yes…I…” small talk wasn’t coming easily. “…have some steady clients…to cook for. Do some parties. All word of mouth.”
The thermometer pinged and she bit her lip as he slid it out. “All normal”, he said.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Do you want a shot?”
“What kind of shot?”
“Mostly B12. Some other things that are a closely guarded secret. But it’s popular. Since you’re here and all.”
“I don’t like shots.”
“You’ve never gotten a shot from me. You don’t like getting ready for the shot. Getting up on the table, pushing your pants down. But here you are right? Why not?”
“Oh fine,” she said as if she was struggling with a decision. “Why not?”
He pushed again with his hand on her hip but not really. Lower. She felt that charge again as the softness of her bottom yielded to his warm fingertips. “Here,” he said. “Lie flat”. She did and felt herself spread. Somewhat. A little. Not much. Ah, the hell with it!
She crossed her arms and listened to the sounds of tearing paper and plastic as he readied the syringe. “You okay?” he asked
“Yes. Yes you are”.
“Fresh!” she said, flattered.
“I’m going to squeeze here, OK?” he said patting her ample right cheek.
“OK, but remember, you said it wasn’t going to hurt.”
“Oh, I don’t think I ever said that. Don’t tense…” He gave her bottom four staccato smacks that were over so quickly she barely had time to say “Ouch!” then squeezed a piece of her bottom right in the center. She dug her fingernails into her palms when the needle slipped in with a warm sting. He emptied the syringe and withdrew then rubbed the spot hard with three fingers as if trying to remove a freckle. “There,” he said. “How’s that feel?”
“Do you want to try a treatment? A quick cleanse?”
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that….”
“Well then, let’s pull your panties back up…”
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that either.”
“Now who’s being naughty?”
“I’m feeling so warm and…..” she couldn’t find the word.
She laughed lightly and opened her eyes to the red glow of the lava lamp burbles on the wall. “Yeah, that’s it exactly. Fizzy. Is that the shot?”
“No my dear”, he said, his hand on the top of her thigh. “That’s you.”
The hand she felt on herself was warmer than she was. “What is it exactly that you are doing back there?” she asked.
“I’m a licensed massage therapist”, he said to the back of her head.
“Of course you are.”
“Do you want to see my license?” he asked, squeezing gently.
“No”, she said. “I’d rather feel it.”
“Can I get rid of these then?”
He pulled her panties down her thighs and she lifted her legs so he could slide them over her feet. He let them fall to the floor.