Learning to Be Little Again(4)

By: Meredith O Reilly

“Take a seat on the exam table, please,” he said as he sat down on the small rolling chair and turned his computer on.

I did as I was told and sat on the exam table. The paper crinkled as I sat, making so much noise in the silent room. Robert tapped away on his keyboard for a few minutes. Then he stopped, grabbed a cup on the corner of his desk and wrote something on it. As he was writing, ink splattered on his hands.

“Ugh! Why does this always happen to me?” he muttered, as he threw the pen into a wastebasket. “I’m sorry, Juliana, I have to go wash my hands. The sink in here isn’t working as of yesterday, and since it was New Year’s Eve, a repairman couldn’t come out until tomorrow. I should also grab another pen, so I’ll be back in a moment.” He stood and left the room.

As I looked around the room, I had to admit that nothing looked too scary. It was a regular doctor’s exam room. Robert also didn’t seem to be a bad guy.

He walked back into the room, grabbed the cup he left on his desk, and said, “Alright, Juliana. So today, I’ll be giving you a physical. Do you have to go to the bathroom now? I’ll need a urine sample to test.”

For a moment, I just stared at him. His dirty blonde hair and light blue eyes just captivated me. His eyes reminded me of how the sky would look on a fresh spring day. But I was shaken out of my captivation when the thought that he’d be touching me soon entered my mind.

“Juliana?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing as if he was worried.

“I… ummm… n-no. I… I don’t need to go…” I said, bowing my head and looking at my hands.

“Juliana, listen to me. I know that right now, this is probably one of the last places you want to be. I get that. Please remember though, I’m trying to help you. If you feel uncomfortable at all when I’m examining you, tell me and we can take a break.”

“Promise?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Yes, I promise,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile.


“Good. Now, let’s start off with the easy stuff. Could you please step off the exam table, take your shoes off, and place your heels against that measuring tape on the wall?” he gestured towards the wall at a bright yellow measuring tape.

I did as I was told and he looked at the wall. “You’re five feet exactly. Only fifteen inches shorter than me,” he chuckled. “Now, can you please step on the scale?”

I did and watched as it read ninety pounds. I could tell from the scowl on his face that he was unhappy about that. Thankfully though, he didn’t say anything.

“Okay, Juliana, please take a seat back on the exam table.” He sat back down on his chair and typed my weight and height into the computerized chart. When he finished that, he took my blood pressure, my temperature, checked my eyes, ears, and throat. He even checked my reflexes. I was finally starting to calm down, realizing that he was keeping this exam one hundred percent professional.

The exam was going so well, I should have known the other shoe was going to drop.

“Alright, Juliana. Now, I need you to remove all of your clothes and change into this gown. Make sure that the opening is in the front. I’ll leave the room to let you change and I’ll knock before entering again. Okay?” he asked, handing me the light green cloth gown.

I nodded and took the gown with shaky hands, watching as he left the room, closing the door behind him. I didn’t like this. Even though I would have the gown to wear, it was so thin, and he could come in here and do whatever he pleased. I closed my eyes and began to imagine.

I sit on the exam table, wearing nothing but the transparent gown. The door opens, catching me by surprise as Robert walks in.

“Sorry to startle you Juliana,” he says, closing the door and walking over to me.

“It’s o-okay,” I say, looking up into those gorgeous eyes of his.

He flashes that million dollar smile of his. “Please lie down and we can begin this exam.”

I slowly lie down, nervous to be in this position, but there’s something about him that I just trust.

“Comfortable?” he asks, brushing a strand of my hair off of my face and behind my ears.

“Yes,” I squeak out.

“Listen to me, Juliana. There is nothing to worry about. Now, I’m going to do a breast exam,” he says, slowly opening my gown.

I begin to panic. This isn’t right. I’m about to tell him that I can’t do this, when he gently traces a path down the center of my breasts and then around each of them.

I sigh and ease back slightly. That felt good.

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