Little Fantasies: Turning the Kink Table

Someone left a comment wondering what would happen if the roles were reversed and Julien had to take Alex's temperature. Of course, my imagination was off and playing. This is the result. Thank you so much to the commenter. I had a lot of fun writing this!




Title: Little Fantasies: Turning the Kink Table
Characters: Alex/Julien
Series: Little Fantasies
Warning: Naughty, rectal, thermometer used on a Top!



Oh, how the tables have turned. The mighty have fallen. Time to turn the other cheek. All the cliches ran through my mind. But the last one had me giggling uncontrollably. Taking a deep breath, I tried to compose myself. I was only giggling because I was nervous and worried. I always giggled at inappropriate times. When I was worried. When I was unsure of myself or a situation. And right then I was both worried and unsure.


See, the flu was running rampant and I suspected Alex had caught it. He had tossed and turned all night. He couldn’t get comfortable as he coughed all night long. When I had tried to wrap my arms around him he was hotter than a furnace. That’s when I started to worry. Alex never gets sick. Never. We worked for the same company, but I was the one who went into the germ factories. By germ factories, I mean schools. I must have brought the flu home and gave it to him.


So after a sleepless night for both of us, I called the doctor first thing in the morning. The receptionist had said that the doctor was taking information and if all the symptoms matched the flu, the doctor would call in a prescription for Tamiflu. I went over Alex’s symptoms with her but didn’t know if he was running a fever. She said I needed to find out what it was and call her back.


I stood there by the phone and thought all those tired old cliches about tables turning and mighty men falling. After breaking our previous, non-kink thermometer, all we had was the rectal one. I was going to have to take Alex’s temperature in his butt!


But, that is my kink! Not Alex’s. I love that dominant caretaking that Alex is so good at. My stomach jumps, tightens, tingles, does the Cha-Cha when that little piece of glass slips between my cheeks. Yet, I needed to take Alex’s temp and call the doctor back. If he had the flu, I needed to get the medicine fast. So, I had to take his temperature rectally.


I took another deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and tried to take the mindset of a dominant. I gathered everything I needed from the bathroom and walked with great purpose into the bedroom. Ok, maybe I tiptoed quietly and nervously, but I did go into the room.


Alex was cocooned in the blankets snoring heavily. He coughed and then moaned. That sad moan strengthened my resolve.


I set the lube and thermometer on the nightstand within easy reach. Then I set about pulling the covers down to get to his bum.


“Whatareyoudoing?” Alex muttered weakly.


“Shhh, it’s ok. I just have to take your temp.” Luckily he was sleeping on his stomach, so all I had to do at that point was pull his boxers down. Except he started to wiggle and protest.


“No!”


I’m sure that Alex thought he was using his tummy tingling Top voice, but it came out like a newborn kitten mewing for milk. It broke my heart that he sounded so weak. I put on my best Top voice.


“Alex. It has to be done. Now stop wiggling or I’ll swat you.”


I had no idea that he could glare so menacingly when he was sick. I decided to forgo the swat and get on with the temperature taking. I picked up the lube and thermometer. I coated that glass rod with so much lube that it almost slipped out of my hand. I used my other hand to pulled his cheeks apart and then I slowly pushed the thermometer in.


My stomach rolled in sympathy when Alex groaned. I knew it didn’t hurt but I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “Are you alright? It doesn’t hurt, does it?”


“Get. It. Out.”


One word sentences. Even sick, he used one-word sentences. I think it’s some sort of affliction that Top type people have. They just can’t help themselves.


Making my voice as Toppy as I could, I said, “You know it has to stay in four minutes.”


Those four minutes were the longest of my life. I’d glance at my phone and then at his hairy butt and then back at the phone. I much preferred looking at his butt but wanted to keep an eye on the time too. Alex had a really nice butt. A little hairy, but not too much. And it was a little chubby. Not in a bad way. Just in a nice, want to squeeze those chubby cheeks, way.


Let me get back to my story before I get too distracted thinking about Alex’s gorgeous butt.


Finally, the four minutes were up. I took the thermometer out and wiped it off. I held it up and saw that he was definitely running a fever. Not too high, but enough of one that he probably had the flu.

I pulled his boxers up and wrapped him back in the blankets. I went back into the kitchen to call the doctor’s office. It took twenty minutes to get through but once I did, the receptionist agreed that Alex probably had the flu and said the doctor would call in the prescription.


I tiptoed back to the room and told Alex where I was going.


“Getregularthermometer,” he mumbled out.


I didn’t want to bother him, being sick and all, so I just closed the door, grabbed a jacket, my keys and headed out. The drive to the drugstore was hell. Traffic was heavy. Why is it people forget how to drive when it rains? After pulling into the parking lot, it took forever to find a place to park.


An eternity later, I walked into the store and right up to the counter. I told the pharmacist that the doctor had called in a prescription for Tamiflu.


The harassed man gave me a dirty look and pointed at a bunch of people standing by the back wall. “Get in line. We’ll be right with you.”


As I stood in line, I wondered if I should have worn a mask. Everyone was sniffling and coughing. I think I was the only one in line who wasn’t sick. I turned my face away. And just my luck, the first thing to catch my eye was a rack of thermometers. Those roll across the head thermometers. I debated whether or not I should pick one up. Alex said to get one. But really, if he was going to use the rectal thermometer on me, he should really have to use it as well. To misquote another cliche, what is good for the gander is good for the dominant gander too.


I steadily ignored the display rack as I stood in line. It took almost an hour for me to finally reach the front of the line. Those thermometers taunted me the whole time. But I’m pretty good at ignoring that which I don’t like.


Quickly, I paid for the medicine and left the store. The drive back home was even worse. The rain was coming down harder. Again, I had to wonder if there was some chemical in the raindrops that made people forget how to drive.


Pulling into our driveway, I threw the car in park and ran inside. After hanging up my jacket, I pulled the bottle out and read the directions. It said to take two tablets with food to avoid an upset stomach. I knew that Alex wouldn’t want much to eat, so I toasted a single slice of bread. I put the toast, a glass of water, and the pill bottle on a cookie sheet and carried it into the bedroom.


Shaking his shoulders, I loudly whispered, “Alex. Alex, wake up.”


He gave that little kitten sound and turned his head.


I shook him a little harder. “Come on, Alex. You have to eat and take your medicine.”


He rolled over and glared at me, But then he pushed himself up against the headboard. He dutifully swallowed the pills and ate half of the toast. When he started to nod off to sleep again, I wrestled him down to a more comfortable position.


As I was walking out the door, Alex mumbled out, “Did you get a thermometer?”


I was amazed that he didn’t react at all when I said no. Of course, I whispered the word after I’d shut the door, so maybe he didn’t hear me.


The next two days were just a blur. I took his temperature every four hours. Helped him to the bathroom. Gave him his medicine, usually with a side of toast. And made sure he was a comfortable as he could be.


On the third day, he felt well enough to eat some soup. Over the next week, each day he felt a little better. I continued taking his temperature for the first three days. After he was able to eat the soup on the third day, I decided he didn’t need his temperature taken. It had nothing to do with Alex threatening me to just wait until he felt better.


Finally, the flu left our home and Alex was back to normal. After his first day back to work, he was a little tired that night and went to bed pretty early. But the second day back? He definitely was over the flu.

We had just finished dinner, and I was stacking the dishes in the dishwasher. I heard the most ominous sound. Alex clearing his throat. I straighten up and turned to look at him.


I gulped as I saw Alex stalking toward me. He may have mewed like a baby kitten when I took his temperature, but right now he was all hunting tiger. And he was hunting me! I backed up with my hands up to ward him off. Yeah, like that was going to stop him.


“Now, now, Alex. The doctor told me to take your temperature.”


Alex took a step closer to me. “Yes. But you didn’t have to enjoy it so much.”


Taking a step back, I bumped into the table. I tried to reassure him. “I didn’t enjoy it! I just thought it a bit...um....humorous that my particular kink was being used on you.”


“I told you to get a regular thermometer,” He growled. That growl was definitely like a tiger hunting its prey.


“I forgot! I was so worried about you, I totally forgot!” I didn’t know whether I should laugh or take off running. It didn’t matter as I didn’t have time to do either one. Alex had reached me!


With another growl deep in his throat, he turned and bent me over the table. “I think my little boy is lying.”


Little boy? Alex didn’t use that term often. At that moment, with his growly tiger voice and his Toppy look, all my blood ran south. I couldn’t do much as he pinned me to the table top and yanked my pants down.


“We shouldn’t lie to our Tops. We should always obey our Tops.” Each word he said was punctuated with a not too gentle swat.


The blossoming pain from his hand, the sound of his voice, being pinned to the table, all of it turned me on. I was hurting I was so hard.


Alex must have had a clue because he pulled me back up and turned me around. “Are you getting sick, dear boy? I see you have a swollen gland.”


If I hadn’t been so aroused, I would have laughed at how corny he sounded. But at that moment, it turned me on even more.


“I’ll have to take your temperature and make sure it’s nothing serious.” Then he flipped me over his shoulder and stalked off to the bedroom.


I’m sure you can use your imagination about what happened next. Right now, Alex is standing in the doorway with my collar swinging from his hand so I’ll end this little tale now.


End

You can read more of Alex and Julien on the Little Fantasies Page.