chapter 7

MICHAEL

Michael set his medical bag on the coffee table and opened it.

Searching through, he grabbed the rectal and oral thermometers. Which one

should he use? He wanted to use the rectal one since it would be more

accurate, but he didn’t want to do something she didn’t want or would

frighten her.

Right now, she was unconscious and that worried him. He didn’t know

if there were other contributing factors or not.

Sighing, he grabbed the regular thermometer and put it in her mouth.

Michael waited until it beeped at him before he looked at it.

Ninety-seven degrees. He knew she wasn't at that temperature. It was

freezing outside and she was hot to the touch. Something was definitely

wrong and he needed an accurate number.

Michael kissed her forehead to see if she was still hot or if his fingers

were just cold. Shit. She was still hot even against his lips. He had really

hoped that his fingers were just cold from being outside without any gloves,

but it was too good to be true.

If he had taken her to the emergency room, he knew they would use a

rectal thermometer to get her temperature. He was a doctor and she needed

him to be one right now.

Michael set the oral thermometer to the side and grabbed the rectal one.

He just hoped she wouldn’t wake while he was taking her temperature this

way. How would he get her to calm down? She was already so skittish and

didn’t trust him one bit. It would be a challenge, especially when he had

something up her bottom.

He carefully rolled her over to her side and pulled down her

sweatpants.

Bruises of all colors littered her skin. Blue, green, purple, black, yellow.

What the hell had happened to her? There wasn’t a spot on her skin that

wasn’t some sort of bruise.

Michael squirted some lube onto his finger and gently coated the end of

the thermometer and her rectum. Gently easing the thermometer inside her,

he turned it on and waited several minutes.

He could tell she had a fever. The only question was whether he could

deal with it himself or whether she needed to be taken to the hospital–

something that would mean involving the authorities. Something he didn’t

want to do.

The thermometer went off and Michael gently pulled it out and looked.

One hundred and two. Definitely a fever but one he could deal with

himself.

Grabbing two fever reducing suppositories, Michael gently eased them

into her bottom and kept his finger there for a couple of minutes, wanting to

make sure the medicine dissolved inside her before he took his finger out.

He had done physicals on too many Littles and all of them loved to push

the medicine out. He wasn’t going to have any of that, even if she was

unconscious right now. She needed the medicine both to reduce her fever

and to deal with some of the pain she was undoubtedly in.

After pulling the cover off and putting it in the trash, Michael set the

thermometer back in his bag and stood up. He needed to check her body to

make sure there weren’t any open wounds that needed immediate attention.

Michael was quick to pull up her pants before he took a look under her

shirt to see if there was anything that needed to be looked at right away. He

needed to keep his clinical detachment while he looked closely at all the

bruises to make sure there weren’t any that were too bad. Her stomach was

particularly bad, and it took everything in him to stop from pressing on

them gently. She needed to be awake for that so he didn’t hurt her too

much.

All he wanted to do was ask her questions when she woke up. He knew

he wouldn’t be able to, but the Daddy inside him was screaming to take

care of her, protect her, and make her his.

Michael froze in his tracks. Shit. Did he really just think that? He hadn’t

thought about having a Little in a long time, and just one look at her and all

he wanted to do was make her his.

Getting up from the floor, he grabbed his phone off the coffee table and

walked toward the kitchen. He needed supplies but didn’t want to leave her

alone right now, and he knew once she woke up, he definitely wouldn’t be

able to leave.

How was she going to react when she woke up? Would she scream

again? Would she hide in a corner, have a panic attack, and pass out again?

Would he be able to get through to her that he wouldn’t hurt her?

So many thoughts ran through his head as he scrolled through his phone

to find Finn’s phone number. Finn had a Little girl about the same size and

Michael needed some clothing for her. He knew the girl wouldn’t appreciate

having to wear his clothes when she didn’t even know him.

Michael wasn’t prepared to have a Little in his house right now. He had

gotten rid of a lot of things several years ago when he gave up hope on

finding the perfect Little girl. Well, he got rid of all the essentials like

bottles, diapers, and clothes, but the furniture was all still in the room, ready

for a Little to use it.

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