“You can come out now, princess.”
Lance looked at his watch. He and Tiffany were late getting away, and she’d yet to come out of the bedroom.
“You look adorable, princess,” Lance said when Tiffany finally summoned the courage to emerge, but the wait had been worth it. He knew dressing in the clothes he bought her would be a little scary at first; he didn’t expect to be able to immediately wash away the kind of self-consciousness that came from years of conditioning. But he also knew once she saw herself as he saw her—as the beautiful little princess she was—that she’d be one step closer to freeing the happy little girl inside.
“Now can I look in the mirror?” she asked, and he knew she was anxious since he’d forbidden it until he could stand behind her and see her reaction. So he took her into the guest room, where he had a floor-length Cheval mirror, and stood her in front of it.
“My perfect little girl,” he said, positioning her in front of the looking glass, and watched with satisfaction as Tiffany’s eyes widened in wonder as she took in her appearance.
He’d gotten her measurements perfect when he’d sent them to the dressmaker. The yellow taffeta dress hugged Tiffany’s ample curves, and the crinoline under the skirt held it away from her shapely ivory thighs. With her strawberry blond pigtails, porcelain skin, and musical voice, Tiffany had been transformed into Lance’s adorable little girl. His heart swelled with pride; he felt like the luckiest man in the world.
In the car, she fidgeted with her dress. “Do you think they’ll like me?” she asked, her voice soft and innocent.
“They’ll love you,” he said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
They were traveling through the countryside, passing picturesque farms as they headed for John Baxter’s home. As he drove, Lance told Tiffany that John Baxter ran his medical practice out of a Victorian farmhouse. The out-of-the-way location gave clients more privacy, and Dr. Baxter had established quite a clientele.
“This is one of the prettiest places I’ve ever seen,” Tiffany said when they finally pulled through the gate and onto the winding drive that led them to the Baxters’ home.
“Daddy, look!” she exclaimed with wonder when they pulled closer to the house. A large playhouse stood flanked by topiary bushes shaped into teddy bears, kittens, and bunny rabbits. Nearby, swing sets and slides sat surrounded by a white picket fence. Beyond that the house loomed, its gingerbread molding giving it a fairytale appearance.
“I’m really excited about meeting Fiona!” Tiffany said. Her excitement over meeting another little more experienced in the lifestyle had been growing since Lance had told her about the trip. But her excitement was somewhat dampened when he told her that she’d have to wait until after her doctor’s appointment.
“But why?” she asked sulkily.
“Because Dr. Baxter has set aside some time just for you, my dear. And he doesn’t want you distracted.” Lance scowled. “And there will be no pouting unless you want Dr. Baxter to see a red bottom.”
“But why would he see my bottom anyway?” she asked.
“It’s a full exam, and a cleansing,” Lance informed her. “Dr. Baxter will see everything. But you’ll need to get used to it, because regular health checks are part of being a little girl again.”
Tiffany fell quiet, suddenly apprehensive. Lance took her small hand in his large one as he helped her from the car and led her around to a side entrance with a wood-carved sign out front that read ‘J.M. Baxter, M.D.’ Under the name was the silhouette of two women in little girl-type dresses.
He noted that Tiffany’s grip tightened on his hand as they walked through the door, and did not let go in spite of the cheeriness of the waiting room. The large windows made for a well-lit interior. Across the room, an open toy box held dolls and other toys. Beside it, a shelf held books.
“Why don’t you pick out a book and daddy will read to you while we wait,” Lance prompted. Just as Tiffany was picking out a Winnie-the-Pooh book, a pretty blond woman wearing a gingham print dress emerged from the door by the receptionist’s window. Her hair was arranged high on the sides of her head in two fluffy pigtails, and she carried a worn stuffed rabbit. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, and with her free hand she rubbed her bottom under the short hem of her dress. Two men walked out behind her, talking. One was short and stocky with olive-colored skin. The other was tall, tanned, blond, and wore a white doctor’s coat. A stethoscope hung around his neck.
“A shot in the bum never feels good, but the discomfort will disappear soon enough,” the doctor was saying. “And next time, I bet Sally won’t refuse to swallow a pill, will you, young lady?”
“No, Dr. Baxter,” the blonde said.
“Bring her back in six weeks for a follow-up, Ray,” the doctor said.
“Will do, doc.” The man turned to the blonde. “Now let’s go home. And no pouting, or your bottom will be even sorer than it is now.”
Dr. Baxter turned as the couple exited. “Lance!” he said, and walked over to give his friend a clap on the shoulder and a firm handshake. “How the hell have you been?”
“I can’t complain,” Lance said with a grin. “Life is good.”
Dr. Baxter turned to look at Tiffany, who peeked at him shyly from where she stood holding the book she’d selected.
“So I see,” the doctor said, and knelt down as one would for a child. “You must be Tiffany,” he said.
“Go say ‘hello’ to Dr. Baxter,” Lance urged, and Tiffany walked forward, her heart pounding.
“Hello,” she said.
“So, Tiffany. Your daddy’s told me a few things about you. He says this is all very new to you. How do you like being a little?”
Tiffany glanced nervously at Lance before answering. “I like it fine,” she said. “It takes some getting used to, though.”
“I’m sure it does, but I want you to be comfortable here. Littles are my specialty, and there’s no need to be nervous. I understand that your daddy has had you do some reading, not just on the lifestyle but on the medical aspects of your maintenance, right?”
“So you’re aware that particular care is paid to your external and internal health and cleanliness. That will be seen to today, but don’t worry. Both your daddy and I will be there to make you feel safe.”
Her heart was pounding harder now at this allusion to the cleansings. And now Tiffany realized why she was so nervous. Her deepest, darkest fantasy was about to come to life, and not only with one gorgeous man, but with two! But she was as afraid as she was nervous. Would it hurt? Even worse, could she stand to be that exposed to not one but two men, given the insecurities she’d yet to shed?
Even if she’d been in top shape, disrobing in front of two strange, handsome men would have been difficult. But the extra weight made her more self-conscious. Would they laugh at her?
In the exam room, Lance seemed to have read her mind when he moved to undress her for the exam, only to watch her cross her arms over her chest.
“Tiffany,” Lance said quietly, tipping her chin up until she was forced to meet his gaze. “Dr. Baxter is a professional. He has seen many littles—male and female—naked in the most intimate way. So if this is about being ashamed, don’t be.”
He gently moved her arms down and reached for the hem of her dress. “Lift your arms, princess.”
She did so, knowing she had no other choice and winced as her bra was removed and the air hit her breasts. She quickly covered them with her arms, feeling outrageously exposed as she stood there in just her white panties. She realized with a sudden panic that they were damp, and flushed. Now, not only would Lance be aware her shameful responses, but the doctor would know as well.
“Up on the table, please,” Dr. Baxter was saying.
She allowed herself to be led over and helped up on the table.
As she sat on the edge, Dr. Baxter put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I know this is hard for you,” he said. “But as your daddy told you, all littles need regular exams to keep them healthy. But I have something here to make it easier.
He reached over on the table and picked up a pill cup. Inside were two white tablets.
“Is it a sedative?” she asked, eyeing the pills.
“No.” Dr. Baxter shook his head. “It’s just something to relax you and lower your inhibitions in a way that will make this exam a lot easier. I think it will be a lot easier for you than being corrected halfway through for fighting us.”
Tiffany regarded the pills. On one hand, the idea of being offered something that would break down her resistance offended her. On the other hand, the thought of having to endure the exam and a bare-bottom spanking mortified her. She held her hands out and accepted the pills, washing them down with a sip of water the physician provided in a small paper cup.
“We’ll give those a couple of moments to work,” Dr. Baxter said. “In the meantime, I’m going to explain what’s going to happen. I’m going to give you a physical. But I’m also going to perform a few tests to gauge your reactions to stimuli.”
Tiffany didn’t ask him what he meant. She was already starting to feel more relaxed from the effects of the medication as Lance moved to her side and put a soothing hand on her shoulder and Dr. Baxter examined her eyes and ears with a light and then gently palpated her neck with his fingers.
By the time he laid her down, she felt almost languidly helpless under the power of the two strong, handsome men now controlling the situation. Dr. Baxter’s hands moved efficiently over Tiffany’s soft, pillowy breasts. He smiled down on her as he announced them free of any worrisome lumps, and moved his hands down her body to press on her pelvis. He asked her the date of her last period, and told her he’d be taking her off her regular birth control medication and moving her to a special formula he felt was safer and more effective. Not only would it prevent pregnancy, he said, it would also free her of monthly menses.
“I’m going to do a pelvic exam now,” he informed her, and Tiffany felt butterflies through the languid haze as he removed her panties. The resistance she would have otherwise felt to this mandatory exam did not manifest completely, thanks to the pills, and she watched as the physician gently lifted first one leg and then the other into wide-set supports that ended in fleece-covered foot rests. Beside her, Lance stroked her forehead in a soothing manner.
“I’m going to do a Pap smear first,” Dr. Baxter said, snapping on a pair of latex gloves before reaching for a speculum. He sat down on a stool at the end of the table between Tiffany’s open legs and reached toward the metal table for the instrument.
“You’re going to feel a little pressure and a pinch,” he said gently and Tiffany breathed deeply as the speculum slid with embarrassing ease into a pussy she realized was more than well-lubricated. There was a slight sting as the doctor swabbed her cervix. Next he pushed a gloved digit into her pussy, probing her as he pressed down on her abdomen. Tiffany sighed with relief as the invading finger was moved and tried to sit up, but Lance stopped her.
“Not yet,” he said. “We’re not done.”
“What else?” She could feel her heart racing now.
“We need to take your temperature.”
Tiffany’s eyes widened when she saw the physician lube a thick medical thermometer. Before she could protest, he was pressing the bulb of it against the tight pucker of her anus.
“Relax,” he warned, and she groaned in humiliation as the thermometer slid in. After removing and reading it, the doctor smiled. “Perfect temperature,” he said.
“Almost done,” Lance said. “Dr. Baxter still needs to do a stimuli test. Again, this is something all new littles receive.”
The words did little to soothe her as she saw Dr. Baxter pick up a small brown jar and dip his gloved finger into the ointment inside. He turned his back to her, facing her legs, and she could not see what he was doing. She did feel his hands part her labia, however, and something graze her clit.
“Oh!” She jumped a little.
“Hold still,” Dr. Baxter said, and turned back to her. “The cream will make you a little more sensitive.” He looked down at her. “And you should know you’re going to need to be bare for this next test,” he said.
Tiffany looked at Lance. “Bare? What does he mean by ‘bare’?”
“What I mean, young lady,” said Dr. Baxter, “is that you are going to be divested of your pubic thatch. Littles are best kept clean-shaven as is befitting anyone in an age-regression regimen. And I think you’ll realize the benefits during the test.”
Dr. Baxter had picked up a small pot of shaving cream as he spoke and was swirling it around with a shaving brush.
“Don’t… please…” Tiffany tried to rise again, but Lance had his hands on her shoulders now.
“Am I going to have to tie you down? There are straps on the table. I’ll do it. Everything that happens—even your responses—are our responsibility, not yours. That’s what being a little is all about. You are not responsible for what happens to you.”
Dr. Baxter had fixed straps to her legs as Lance spoke and now began to swirl the brush around on Tiffany’s pubic mound.
“Oh!” Her head flew up as she was suddenly stunned by the wave of pleasure even this slight sensation caused. She could feel the little bundle of nerves at the apex of her cleft throbbing, could feel moisture ooze from between the folds of her spread labia.
“I’m going to need you to be a good little girl and hold still.” Dr. Baxter said, and Tiffany closed her eyes, trying to block out the sensation of the razor and her own puzzling excitement aroused by the sense of helplessness, by Lance’s reminder that he and the physician were now in complete control. She felt the edge of the razor glide over her delicate skin, and a few moments later a warm wet cloth wiping away the residual shaving cream.
“Lovely pubic mound,” Dr. Baxter said. “Lance, come see. I need you for the next part of the exam, anyway.”
Tiffany opened her eyes to see both men at the foot of the table, looking down between her obscenely spread legs. She wanted to be indignant, offended, outraged… but the truth was, she’d never been more aroused in her whole life.
“Lovely, indeed,” Lance said.
“We’ll need to test your arousal now, Tiffany,” Dr. Baxter said. “And since you’re in Lance’s care, he should be the one to do it.”
“Oh, no… please…” Tiffany began. But even as she protested, she felt the walls of her pussy contract with a need that left her breathless. She wanted to reach up and stay Lance’s hand as it moved to the top of her freshly shaved mound, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. She wanted it. Oh, God… she wanted it. And when the tip of his finger entered and moved up her drenched slit, Tiffany felt herself arch at the contact.
“Oh… oh… oh…”
The men exchanged knowing glances, and Dr. Baxter cocked an eyebrow and smiled when Lance plunged two fingers into Tiffany’s pussy only to have her orgasm immediately. As the slick muscular walls of her core milked his fingers, he moved the pad of his thumb up to her clit, applying light pressure. It was enough to make her cry out and thrust her hips upwards, as if seeking deeper contact.
“Oh, don’t!” she cried, and even as she came, tears slipped from her eyes.
“There’s no need to be ashamed,” Lance said. “You’re doing beautifully. It’s just what we wanted.”
“No,” she said as he removed his fingers. She looked up at him, her face flushed, her eyes glittering with excitement, her large breasts heaving. “It’s your fault! You gave me that medicine. Otherwise I’d have never acted like this in front of a stranger.”
Dr. Baxter walked to the head of the table.
“Tiffany, I’m going to tell you something,” he said. “I suspected by what Lance has told me that you have the perfect makeup for true sexual submission. And I just proved it.”
“By drugging me?” she asked.
Both men were smiling now.
“Well, if you consider sugar pills a drug,” Dr. Baxter said. “It was a placebo, Tiffany. You were given a placebo. Your reactions? Those weren’t from the medicine, but from you.”
“You’re a submissive, Tiffany,” Lance said. “You were born to be a little girl. My little girl. And I don’t know if you believe in fate, but I think your walking into the gym that day was a second chance—for both of us.”
She stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavily. It was as if a weight had been lifted off her soul, knowing that she was not only allowed to feel completely sexual in the throes of submission, but encouraged.
However, her ordeal with Dr. Baxter was not over yet. As Lance rubbed her forehead, he told her that she was about to get her first cleansing.
Tiffany’s repressed fantasies of having her bottom explored and fucked were blossoming now right along with the inner petals of her pussy, which pulsed at the thought. She glanced to the side, catching sight of Dr. Baxter readying the mixture for the cleansing. She watched as he affixed a nozzle onto the tubing that hung from the bulging bag of liquid she knew from reading would be flushed into her bottom. Would she be able to hold it? She began to have doubts.
“Let’s get you turned over,” the doctor said.
“I’m going to be so proud of you.” Lance had laid a large hand on the crest of her bottom cheek once she was unstrapped and placed into position. When Tiffany looked back in surprise at the contact, she saw affection and lust mixing in his eyes. And she knew then that she not only could take the medicine, she wanted it.
“I’m going to insert the end of this nozzle into your bottom as your daddy spreads your cheeks, Tiffany. Do you understand?”
Tiffany whimpered in nervous submission. She was face down on the table with her bottom hiked up in the air.
“Ah!” The noise she made was one of surprise as the tip of the lubricated nozzle was pressed against her bottom hole.
“Push back a bit, princess,” Lance said. “As odd as this may sound, if you strain a little like you’re trying to push it out, it’ll open up your little rosebud enough for it to go in.”
Tiffany moaned in embarrassment, but obeyed. And Lance was right; the entry of the nozzle stung, but the doctor was able to push it in. The feeling of Lance’s hands now spreading her cheeks—of knowing he was watching the nozzle slide in—had her suppressing a moan of a different kind; a moan of arousal.
“I’m going to start the medicine.” Tiffany heard a click and then felt a warmth as the liquid from the bag on a pole by the table began to flow into her bowels. A pressure—a heaviness—followed and she squirmed at the unfamiliar fullness.
“You’re doing very well,” Lance crooned a few moments later. “Almost done.”
But then the nozzle was removed and Tiffany felt a moment of panic. Her bowels were churning now, threatening to expel the liquid. She broke out in a sweat from the effort of holding it in. Dr. Baxter appeared at the head of the table.
“Tiffany, I want you to listen to me,” he said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Your papa is going to plug your bottom to keep the medicine in.”
“He’s going to… what?” She looked back, and saw her handsome daddy holding a lubricated object that was triangular in shape. It narrowed just before the flanged top.
“I’m going to stick this in your luscious bottom, Tiffany,” he said. “And if you don’t let me, I’ll spank you hard later.”
Tiffany groaned aloud at the threat and the knowledge that she could not stop him from what he was about to do. She needed him to do it, in fact—not just because it would keep her from embarrassing herself, but also because she realized she wanted him to take this step of mastery, to do this when she was at her most vulnerable.
She could feel his large hand on her bottom, could feel the end of the plug pushing against her bottom hole. She moaned and rocked back, rather than away. As Lance pushed the plug in, she cried out. The plug was wider than the nozzle, the sting worse. But the pleasure-pain tipped something inside of her.
“Oh, no…” she said. “I can’t stop…”
And as the plug slipped inside, it happened. Tiffany felt an orgasm unlike any other rock her body. She could feel juices slip down her thigh, expelled by her rapidly clenching pussy.
With her face pressed to the table, her eyes closed in an ecstasy of sensation, she could not see how Lance first glanced down in astonishment and then in happy surprise at Dr. Baxter. His finger slipped below the plug now and into her pussy, the digit milked by the last of her hungry contractions.
She was shaky by the time he helped her down and to the restroom. After removing the plug, he left Tiffany alone to expel the medicine.
“Feeling better?” he asked when Tiffany emerged.
“Y-yes,” Tiffany replied, and it was true. She felt lighter somehow, less tense, as if the medicine and the orgasm had washed the last of what she’d been holding in out of her body.
“My princess looks tired,” Lance asked as he dressed her once she’d emerged from the bathroom. “How do you feel?”
She thought for a moment. “Drained.”
“Then I should carry you to the reception area so you can rest. You were Dr. Baxter’s last patient of the day,” he said. “He’s gone to get his little one and we’re to meet in his house for dinner shortly.”
Before Tiffany could make the first objection that came to her mind—that she was too heavy—Lance had scooped her up and was carrying her as if she were a child. Tiffany found the tension she’d initially felt give way as she relaxed in his arms.
“I’m proud of how good you were,” he said, looking into her eyes as he walked. Tiffany let her head fall on his broad shoulder, smelling for the first time the scent of him, so masculine and fresh. In the reception area, he sat down on a sofa and held her on his lap.
“You know that the cleansings are more than just for your health, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, princess,” Lance replied. “I know from what you’ve told me that Nick wasn’t only too stupid to keep you, but too stupid to take full advantage of that beautiful ass. He never fucked you there, Tiffany, but his loss is my gain. I get to be the one to take that virginity.” He moved his mouth to his ear, and his next words caused Tiffany to shudder. “I’m going to train your ass to accept my cock, princess. I can’t tell you how much I look forward to seeing my cock slide into that beautiful, plump ass. I’m already hard just thinking about it.” He slid his hand up her skirt and under the panel of her panties, stroking her just-shaved pussy that was growing wet from his words. “Do you want daddy’s cock inside your ass, princess?”
“Oh, yes, daddy,” she said. “More than anything in the world.”
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