A Spoonful of Sugar Read online

  “I was so nervous, and I didn’t have any gear except a cheap dog collar with a tag with my pup name on it. I found myself in a pup mosh with all these experienced guys who had the full hoods and butt plug tails. And while it was awesome and I pretty much knew I was where I needed to be, it was also intimidating and intense. I was completely overwhelmed and kind of freaking out. Then this super-hot guy leaned over the gate and talked softy to me, got me to come over, gave me pets and scratches and made me feel like I was the cutest and most adorable puppy in the pit. And that was that. I’ve been his ever since.”

  “Wow.”

  “I’m so lucky to have met him, and the medical kink setup was an added bonus. I hadn’t really explored it before and I don’t think I’m as into it as you are, but I’ll submit to anything to see Jericho’s doctor persona in play. And being his assistant with others is a natural fit for me. It’s pretty fucking hot when the patient is totally into it, like you are, Scott.”

  I laughed. “Ah, thanks.”

  We fell into a companionable silence, then both started speaking at once.

  Pascal said, “Want to watch a movie?”

  “Well, I guess I should be— What?”

  Pascal laughed, blushing. “I just— But if you really have to leave, I get it.”

  “Did you ask me to watch a movie with you?”

  “Yeah. But I understand if you’re too busy.”

  “I’m not too busy. I simply didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

  “Well, you’re not.”

  “Okay. Sure. I’d love to watch a movie with you.”

  “And cuddle on the couch? It helps me relax.”

  I smiled. “I’d love to.”

  We snuggled up on the sofa together, the way I’d seen Pascal do with Jericho many times—me underneath with Pascal between my legs and his head on my shoulder. Even though he was bigger than I was, it felt right, and I found my own seasonal stress dissipating as we laughed through the first half of The Devil Wears Prada. He smelled of clean cotton and fruity shampoo.

  We must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, the front door shut loudly, and Jericho’s voice announced, “Hey, sweetie, I’m home!”

  I blinked and tried to focus, swiveling my head to see Jericho step into the living room and take in the scene.

  “Oh. Hey, Scott.”

  He peered around the room. “I thought you were going shopping.”

  I cleared my throat and jiggled Pascal, who lay snoring softly against my shoulder. “The stuff’s still in the car. We came in to have a cup of coffee and ended up watching The Devil Wear’s Prada. Well, part of it.”

  I nudged Pascal again.

  Jericho laughed. “You won’t wake him up like that. He’s a deep sleeper.” He walked over to us and gaze fondly on his boyfriend. “He’s really in dreamland right now.”

  “Hmm, I don’t think so. Wouldn’t he be twitching and jerking?”

  “True. Pups tend to do that when they dream.” Jericho leaned down and kissed me on the lips, then pulled back. “Nice to see you.”

  “You, too. How was work?”

  Jericho shrugged. “Busy. It always is at this time of year. I have a few things to do tonight, but at least I don’t have to go in.”

  “I should get going.”

  “You could stay for supper?” Jericho suggested.

  I smiled. “Thank you. But I should get back, sort out the gifts I bought and figure out if there’s anyone left to buy for.” I looked Jericho over. “Theoretically, if someone were to buy you a Christmas gift, what should they get?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to get me a gift.”

  “I know. But I want to.”

  “Why don’t you get me something to use in the ‘office’?” he said, gesturing toward the spare room.

  “I could,” I said, blushing. “I thought of that. But then it would be a gift for me, honestly.”

  “True.”

  “Come on. What do you want for Christmas, Jericho?”

  “Honestly? I want you to come spend Christmas week with us.”

  I blinked. The invitation surprised me. “The whole week?”

  “Yeah. But you’ve probably got familial responsibilities…”

  “No. Well, yeah, but I can do those visits in one afternoon, probably. I can spend most of the week with you two.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  Jericho knelt down beside the couch and kissed me again, taking his time. When he pulled back, he said, “Maybe we can make up for lost time. I hate not seeing you. And I think Pascal has missed you, too.”

  It was settled. We’d have another week apart, but then I’d pack a bag and stay with the two of them over the holiday.

  Although Jericho had said my company was the only thing he needed for Christmas, I wanted to get both him and Pascal something small to put under their tree. I simply had to figure out what.

  I didn’t want to get him anything for his medical ‘practice’, even though it was tempting. For one thing, I hadn’t yet seen his entire inventory of instruments and supplies, so I was likely to duplicate something he already had. And for another thing, as I’d mentioned, that would be more of a gift for me, since I would be getting it for him to use during our medical play scenes.

  I needed to think of something meaningful but nothing overly romantic or expensive. There was a delicate balance at the beginning of any relationship, in order to let a partner know you cared and thought of the relationship as potentially serious and long-term but that you weren’t trying to jump ahead of them in the game. It could be tricky. And in my situation, where we’d already stepped outside the bounds of conventionality, it could be even more difficult to navigate those early weeks.

  I settled on a gift card to the Sweet Basil Thai restaurant in South Ottawa, addressed to both of them. It seemed a good way to reinforce that I valued and respected the relationship they had with each other, even as I wanted to be a part of it. I liked them both equally, and their commitment to each other was part of the attraction.

  I taped it to the bottom of an empty box and wrapped it up with some brown craft paper and a pretty green ribbon. I even went to the pet store and paid for a blue dog tag in the shape of a bone, engraved with ‘To Jericho and Pascal’ to attach. It looked beautiful, and I couldn’t wait to present the gift to them.

  * * * *

  A few days later I received an email from Jericho.

  Mr. Vernier.

  This is to confirm your medical appointment for Monday, the twenty-first of December, at three-ten p.m. Please let us know if you will be able to keep this booking.

  Sincerely,

  Dr. Jericho Griffin.

  And I got a text.

  Hey, Scott. Bring your bag on the 21st and plan to stay until Boxing Day or later. Pascal and I have no commitments except to enjoy the holiday with you.

  I replied to the email and confirmed my appointment. Then I started to pack.

  * * * *

  I arrived early, as I generally did whenever I had an appointment with Dr. Griffin. I could barely contain my excitement. I had followed Jericho’s instructions to refrain from masturbating for the previous five days—a task that had proved incredibly difficult and seemed contrary to his philosophy of healthy male release.

  “I know I told you that daily masturbation was important to a man’s general health, Scott, but occasionally, I will give you uncomfortable and challenging tasks to perform that will…refine your self-control and benefit your mental health, as well as give your body a chance to replenish vital fluids.”

  I knew he was bullshitting, but that was what I loved about Jericho—his unfailing ability to use a professional persona at an expert level in order to make this experience rich and varied for me. I would do what my doctor asked because I was his ‘patient’, and I relied on him for the care he enjoyed giving me—and that I enjoyed receiving.

  I trusted him implicitly.

  “Good afterno
on, Mr. Vernier,” Pascal said as he opened the door for me. He was already in his scrubs, so I guessed it was ‘game on’ as soon as I stepped into their home. He’d gotten a haircut and he looked extra hot. Had I possibly forgotten how handsome he was?

  “Good afternoon, Pascal.”

  He smiled, and I realized I had to temper the urge to hug him because it had been so long since we’d seen each other, but it was obvious that we were already in character.

  “If you would take off your jacket and boots and follow me?”

  “Of course.” I did as I was told, and Pascal led me past the closed ‘office’ and to the bathroom.

  “Please remove your clothes and leave them on the counter. There’s a cloth robe for you on the back of the door. I’ll ask that you use the douche a couple of times and get as much out as you can.” He smiled pleasantly. “There will be a more thorough cleansing in Dr. Griffin’s office.”

  My pulse rate quickened, but I nodded and stepped into the bathroom, wondering what I’d gotten myself in to this time. As I removed my clothes with trembling fingers, I felt a not-insignificant level of stage fright. I’d never had anything like this done outside of the privacy of a bathroom, even as a child.

  I performed the required ablutions, ensuring I was as cleaned out as possible. I assumed the procedure in the office would be more for show than practical purposes, which was why I’d been told to do this.

  I put on the blue robe and tied it at the neck and the waist. Then I took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Pascal stood there with his hands clasped patiently before him. He smiled and nodded. “Follow me, please.”

  “Of course.”

  I trailed behind as he led me to the office and knocked.

  “Enter,” Jericho’s voice said.

  Pascal turned the knob then pushed the door, beckoning me to go in. I did, and he followed me, closing the door behind him.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Vernier,” Jericho said, grinning at me in a self-assured way—one that made my balls contract with apprehension at what was about to go down. Strangely, or perhaps not-so-strangely, my dick was on board.

  Why on earth do fear and shame make me so horny?

  “Doctor,” I said, noticing that Jericho’s hair had been trimmed as well, and he had a streak of bright purple through his bangs that suited him perfectly. My gaze locked onto an IV pole to the side of the medical bench with a suspicious-looking bag hanging from the hook.

  “Oh shit,” I said.

  A slow smile spread over Jericho’s smug face. “Indeed. We’re going to give you the full internal experience today, Scott. I need to make sure you are clean and functional, inside and out.”

  I swallowed, feeling faint.

  “Okay.”

  The word did not match how I felt, but I decided to push through and trust Dr. Griffin.

  “You remember your safeword, in case you need to tap out at any point?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is it?”

  “Bones.”

  I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the enema bag hanging innocently on the IV pole. A long clear tube ending with a small nozzle was looped over another hook.

  “Will you help Mr. Vernier onto the table, Pascal? He needs to be on his hands and knees this time.”

  Pascal helped me get onto the exam table and made sure my robe parted where it should to allow Dr. Griffin unfettered access to my ass. My hole clenched in sudden fear at the thought of being serviced in such a practical way by two men I was beginning to care for deeply.

  “Now, Mr. Vernier, I’m going to administer a standard enema. Once the bag is empty and I withdraw the nozzle, I’m going to get you to hold on to the water for about fifteen minutes. It might become uncomfortable, but the longer you hold the water, the cleaner you’ll be once everything is expelled.”

  “Shiny clean,” Pascal murmured.

  I glanced over at him. His eyes shone bright with excitement and his scrubs were already tented.

  The bastard. Glad I can provide such fine entertainment.

  “When I permit you to expel the waste, I’ll have Pascal take you back to the bathroom.”

  My eyes widened, and my asshole clenched.

  I had to stop thinking of them as Jericho and his pup, Pascal. That was the key. At the moment, and for most of the occasions we would be in this room, they were Dr. Griffin and his assistant. Pretending this was a genuine medical intervention was the only way I’d be able to bear it.

  “Are you all right, Scott?” Jericho—I mean, Dr. Griffin—asked.

  I took a deep breath, rolled my shoulders once and firmed my stance. “Yes. I’m all right.”

  “Then we’ll get started.”

  I heard the snap of a rubber glove. Then another.

  “Pascal, can you please apply some lube to the nozzle and insert it into Mr. Vernier’s rectum?”

  “Of course.”

  I tried to ignore the note of eagerness in Pascal’s voice.

  In a moment, a gloved hand rested on my left ass-cheek as I heard Pascal.

  “Mr. Vernier, I need you to relax,” Pascal said, his voice steadier, which was reassuring when that person was about to stick a nozzle into my ass.

  “I’ll try,” I said, taking deep breaths and huffing them out between my lips.

  The slippery tip of the nozzle nudged my hole.

  “Steady,” Pascal said, pushing it carefully inside. “This will only be uncomfortable for a moment. Once the warm water starts to fill you, it should be quite nice.”

  Quite nice was not how I would describe the activity of receiving an enema in front of two people I knew intimately, even as part of a medical kink scene. My dick thought otherwise and began to swell as Pascal fitted the enema nozzle inside me, and Dr. Griffin opened the valve.

  “Your rectum is going to fill with warm salt water, Mr. Vernier. Please let me know if you experience anything other than a pleasant, full sensation. There shouldn’t be any pain at this point.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled, my cheeks hot with embarrassment. But the humiliation contributed to my arousal, as the filling sensation added to the now-pleasant intrusion of the nozzle in my rear. This was why being kinky could be so confusing. Part of me hated the entire thing, while the other part stood up and cheered.

  I knew from experience that the best way to deal with it was to sink completely into the headspace of being objectified and used in whatever manner one’s Dom—or in this case one’s doctor—desired. I had to give up control and focus on the various sensations and emotions being experienced.

  At that moment, my main emotion was embarrassment. But instead of fighting the feeling, I let myself sink into it and gave up to being handled like a helpless patient in a medical office. Whatever the doctor did, no matter how degrading, was for my own benefit, and I simply had to put up with it.

  “Let me know when you start to feel full, Mr. Vernier. Try to take deep breaths and stay as relaxed as you can.”

  “Yes, Doctor,” I said.

  “Hmm, I don’t think this nozzle is situated properly,” Dr. Griffin muttered.

  My eyes flew wide as Jericho wiggled the plastic in my ass and pushed it in and out as the water continued to fill me. The pleasurable sensations from below at the manipulation of the nozzle mixed with the growing feeling of fullness, and I groaned, shifting my knees.

  “Does that feel good?” Doctor Griffin asked, fucking me gently with the plastic nozzle.

  I groaned again, then whimpered. It felt fucking amazing.

  Pascal cursed as Jericho teased my hole with the long nozzle and pumped it in and out at various tempos, until I panted and gasped with excitement.

  “Oh God. I’m starting to feel full. I’m feeling full,” I stuttered, as the filled sensation increased.

  “Okay, only a bit more. If you could go down onto your elbows, Mr. Vernier, the fluid will move deeper, and you’ll be able to hold more.”

  Do I want to hold more?


  “The deeper the water goes, the cleaner you’ll be when we’re all done. Don’t you want to be clean, Mr. Vernier?”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “All right then.”

  I lowered to my elbows with my ass in the air, feeling like a child.

  Suddenly Pascal appeared in my sightline. He crouched so we were at eye level and gazed at me curiously.

  My cheeks flamed as I was brought face-to-face with my friend, as my other friend continued to fill my rectum with warm water.

  “How are you doing, Mr. Vernier?” Pascal asked.

  I closed my eyes, the humiliation rising.

  “Uh. I don’t know,” I whispered.

  “Are you in pain?”

  “No.”

  “Does it feel good?” he said, in hushed tones, as if he weren’t really supposed to ask me that, which led to more intense feelings of shame.

  “Yes,” I admitted, the tenor of my hushed voice quivering. “God, yes.”

  Pascal chuckled. I opened my eyes. He gazed at me with such affection that my embarrassment lost its hard edge. I felt intensely cared for and that the procedure I was undergoing was a form of tender attention to my needs and well-being.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, not even sure why I was saying it, except that his attention and the completely unembarrassed look in his eyes made me braver and more able to cope with what was happening.

  He reached out and smoothed the hair back from my forehead. “You’re welcome. I think Dr. Griffin is almost finished with the preliminaries.”

  “Okay.” I rubbed my forehead against my arm. “Okay.”

  Pascal retreated.

  “All right, Mr. Vernier,” Dr. Griffin said, “You did well. I was able to get this entire bag of water into your bowels.”

  Yay.

  “Now, I’m going to carefully remove the nozzle, and you’re going to contract your sphincter to keep that water inside you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “Here we go.”

  As the nozzle slowly slid from my body, I clenched tightly to keep the water in. The fullness of the warm water felt good and almost comforting. Sexy, even.