Date: Sun, 19 Mar 2017 00:35:00 -0400
From: Out
Subject: Doctor Daddy 1

"Ready for your check-up, sport?" I asked.

"Yes, daddy!" He giggled as he raced into my exam room, part of the small
complex that my husband and I had added to the back of our house adjoining
the pool. Tyler was 9, full of life, and gorgeous, with sparkling eyes and
a crooked grin.

"OK, bud, you know what to do." I pointed towards the area in the corner
with a laundry hamper and chair. He nodded and began stripping down. I
couldn't help but watch as he peeled his clothes off of his thin frame
which was starting to show signs of muscle, especially around his chest,
calves, and hips. He had started running track in school and was always
eager to show off.

"Ready!" he said, clamoring over to the examination table in just his
little Underoos. He had grown so much in the six years since we had
adopted him, but his boundless energy hadn't changed a bit.

Lying down on the table and closing his eyes, I asked, "Okay, you know how
we start, right?" He nodded and raised his arms over his head and smiled
as I listened to his chest with my stethoscope. Though I am in fact a
doctor, Tyler didn't know the distinction between a Ph.D. and a medical
doctor... nor did he need to know.

I rubbed my hands together to warm them up. "Okay, bud, time to check your
glands." Deftly I placed my fingertips on the soft skin of his neck, his
grin radiating up at me. With gentle circles I felt the perfect sinew on
either side of his neck, all the way down to his shoulder blades.
"Perfect, now for under your arms..." One underarm at a time, I used all of
my fingertips together to slowly press down in small circles from the
middle of his upper arm all the way down to chest-level.

"You're doing so good, buddy, just like always. Remember to tell me if
anything hurts, okay?" He nodded, his hair rustling the paper on the exam
table beneath his head. "Now let's check your chest." With loving care I
stroked each of his developing pectoral muscles, circling each of his pale
pink undeveloped nipples. From having done this every week since he had
arrived in our home, I could definitely tell a difference--he was
developing beautifully.

"Are you gonna do my nipples, dad?" he asked. My husband Gary, whose
nipples easily rivaled his penis or his asshole as his most sensitive body
parts, had a weekly bath ritual with the boy that involved Tyler sitting
on his lap in the tub after they finished washing each other. I've only
witnessed it a few times, but after lighting candles, the two of them
almost seem to melt into each other, with Gary lavishing attention on
Tyler's nipples (and usually not much else). I knew that recently Gary had
been teaching the boy how to touch his nipples in a way that he liked, so
I didn't want to take away from that between the two of them. "No, pal," I
answered, "that's between you and your daddy, okay? Your nipples are
private between you and him unless you want me to touch them." I gave one
a slight pinch and winked--he giggled.

I did, however, move on to his abdomen... his belly was easily one of my
favorite parts of his body. Most evenings after dinner and homework were
done, Gary and I would sit next to each other on the couch, usually in
either our underwear or workout clothes, watching whatever the TiVo had
recorded for the evening. Tyler had developed the very welcome habit of
changing into one of his little pairs of briefs, sauntering out to the
living room, and lying across our laps. Gary would help him prop up his
head on a throw pillow next to the arm of the couch, which would leave his
little chest in Gary's lap and his belly and underwear-clad crotch in
mine. I can't remember exactly how this habit started to form, but I
welcomed it--I loved absent-mindedly rubbing his little tummy while my
husband--his daddy--performed his fingertip magic on the boy's nipples and
stroked his hair. We started to notice after a while that his boyhood
would get as hard as a rock in his briefs... every once in a while, I'd rest
my hand on it or slip my hand inside and give it a little attention. He
always giggled and said it tickled--if he was still awake.

One small section at a time, I worked counterclockwise around his tummy,
pressing down just a fraction  of an inch or so, my fingers moving in
circles. Tyler always closed his eyes during this, as if he was in deep
concentration. While I wasn't trained in medicine, I had done this so many
times--hundreds, by now--that I was starting to feel like I almost
recognized the inside of my son's body. Every so often he'd sigh; every so
often, I'd quietly murmur, "You doing okay, tiger?" He would always nod,
his eyes still closed.

Reaching his groin was always my favorite part. Whoever designed boy's
briefs was clearly a pervert--they're always so low-rise, not that I'm
complaining. I'd repeat my hand-atop-hand, moderate pressure, circling
move (just like anyone who has ever been to the doctor has experienced)
all the way down to his groin and just under the waistband of his
underwear. This was always where I started to get excited. I could already
feel my cock trying to punch out of my briefs.

"Okay, buddy, you're doing awesome, like always. Now it's time to check
your private parts, alright?" He nodded, lifting his little butt off the
table so that I could pull off his underwear before settling back down.
"And remember, what's the rule about private parts?" I didn't ask this
question every time, but once in a while just to remind him that it was
important.

"That only doctors like you, or Daddy, or someone that I really like and
trust is supposed to touch me there, but that I can touch myself whenever
I want if I'm in private."

"Exactly right. They're your private parts because they're special." His
soft uncircumcised boy cock was resting on top of his hairless scrotum,
pert with his marble-sized testicles.

I grabbed the dSLR camera that was always sitting on the desk nearby (it
had no other purpose) and took a number of pictures of his boyhood--his
flaccid penis resting atop his scrotum, and then another flipping the cock
up so that it pointed towards his chest so I could capture the underside
and his full ball sac.

Putting the camera back for a moment, I took a deep breath, like always,
before using one hand to gently lift and pull his ball sac up so that I
could slip a couple of fingers underneath to press on his perineum. His
legs spread a bit, probably involuntarily. He sometimes gasped or sighed a
bit when I would do this; other times, he would squirm. Today he just
seemed to murmur contentedly. "Good boy," I whispered.

"Next we check your testicles inside your scrotum," I said. I always used
the proper medical terms with him. Still using one hand to keep his now
softly throbbing penis out of the way, the other hand pushed gently into
his scrotal sac and found the one orb... after fingering it, I moved to the
other, which seemed to happily pop into my fingertips (the boy made an
"ooh" sound when this happened). "Very good, buddy, your testicles feel
good, and your scrotum is nice and soft."

And now for the cherry on the sundae. "Alright... our last part... we check
out your penis." By this point, just like had happened every time since he
had been five or six, his little boy cock was already as hard as a rock.
Though it was bigger now than it had been then, it was still only a few
inches long, but his foreskin, which typically didn't retract when he went
erect, made it look longer. I had recently started teasing him ever so
slightly about this. "Nice and hard, bud..." I gave his shaft a gentle
squeeze. "That's my man." He beamed.

Millimeter by millimeter I used my fingertips to feel his shaft, starting
at the base but moving to the underside of his glans, his foreskin still
hooding it. "Good," I whispered. (I never knew why I would talk so quietly
to him during this--it just seemed appropriate.) "Now we check your
foreskin..." I pulled down on his prepuce just far enough for me to be able
to slip a fingertip beneath it, which I used to swirl around his cock
head. He used to just gasp during this part, but more recently he had
started to moan. Today was no different.

"Is something wrong, bud?"

"No, daddy... it... just makes me feel like I need to pee..." If the feeling was
particularly intense he'd tell me this. Other times he just squirmed.

"That's fine, remember? You aren't going to pee when your penis is hard
like this. Just relax." His nods crinkled the paper like they almost
always did. I pulled the foreskin all the way back, exposing it to the
air, and he sucked air in very quietly. The first time he ever did that, I
felt like I was going to cum in my pants. "Okay, pal, let's check out the
head of your penis... do you remember what it's called?"

"The... glans?" My little student.

"Exactly right. First I'm going to feel underneath..." I ran my fingers
along the underside of his corona before resting my thumbs on either side
of his piss slit. "And now to check your urethra..." I pried it open slowly.
He smiled slightly. "It feels good when you touch me, dad."

"Good, buddy. So good. Let's finish our pictures in here." Once again I
grabbed the camera, and while he was still lying down, took photos of his
hard little cock, which naturally curved very slightly upwards and tended
to rest on his stomach; with his foreskin retracted, I took a few shots in
this position before pulling it up over his cock head and taking a few
more.

"Can you stand up for me, bud?" He jumped onto the soft silicone pad next
to the exam table, his prick standing straight out from his body. From
both sides I shot it; I had taught him how to put his weight on one leg,
bending the knee forward a little, enhancing his genitals.

"Okay, pal, you did so good today... so you know what the last part is." He
nodded and ran to the small half-bath adjoining the exam room so that he
could pee and try and relax his little boy cock a bit before our final
phase.

I was so glad that Gary and I had decided to add this "playroom" wing to
the house... with all of the areas contiguous and largely open to each
other, there was my "doctor's office" complete with exam table, cabinets,
and small desk. A door led to a small two-room annex; on one side, a small
photo studio, and on the other was a quiet massage and meditation room.
Leaving the other end of the exam room, though, required passage past a
medical curtain, currently drawn. Heading one way led back into the house,
but otherwise immediately in front of you was a "physical therapy" room
with a massage table, medical scale, some free weights, and a few other
implements that Gary was a little more familiar with than me.

Open to this was an area that we had designed to look just like a locker
room, with benches, lockers, and showers, all exposed to each other--and
beyond that was our prized water-play area (and it had not been cheap,
either)--our aqua spa, which included two eight-person whirlpool tubs set
at different temperatures. Across from these: a small alcove with
something akin to a massage table for body scrubs as well as other bodily
explorations, and next to this a sauna and a steam room, which we were
thankful to Siri that we could activate only when guests were coming over...
greatly reducing our water and power bill. One metal door at the very end
of all of this led to a room that Gary had insisted on adding for "future
expansion..." but he hadn't elaborated on what dark fantasy he wanted to
fill that room with.

Tyler had finished in the bathroom. My little naked cherub. "Ready, dad!"
He charged away towards the photo studio, fully naked, knowing what came
next... my camera was already in place.

Every week since he had come to live with us, I had taken head-to-toe
photos of his incredible naked body. He stood on the tiny pieces of tape
that I occasionally had to adjust as he grew, one foot on each dot, and
posed as he always had. We would go through every combination of feet
together and then feet shoulder-length apart with his arms straight down,
his arms perpendicular to his body, and then his arms at 45-degree
angles--then we'd repeat with him facing away from the camera.

"Awesome, bud, that was great! You were amazing." He beamed, but as he
bolted to go and fetch his clothes from the other room, I caught him with
my arm. "Wait a second..."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No no no, not at all, I wanted to tell you about something new that your
daddy and I think you're ready for, since you're growing up to be such a
special part of our family." He looked at me, still a little confused.
"You know how Daddy Gary and I talk about liking massages? You know what
that is, right?"

"I think so," he said... "It's where someone works on your muscles so that
they feel better, right?"

"That's exactly right. Well, tonight when Daddy Gary gets home, you are
gonna get your first massage! How do you feel about that?"

I couldn't quite make out the look on his face. He looked a little scared,
a little excited, a little confused... but if there was one thing that Gary
and I had taught our son, it was that he was to be perfectly honest, and
that there were no consequences to telling the truth, no matter how
uncomfortable.

"I dunno, dad, I'm a little scared..."

I was a little sorry to hear this, but I had expected it. "It's actually
really nice, Ty, but I think I can help you feel a little better about
it." We had started walking out of the "play wing" back to the rest of the
house. "Would you like to see a video of what it's like first? Maybe that
might make you feel less worried."

His eyes lit up as we reached the living room. "Yeah!"

"Alright, perfect. You sit down on the couch, I'll tell Siri to play the
video, and you start watching it while I make you some dinner, and then
when Daddy Gary gets home, we'll go from there, okay?"