RR Lori Warren - Chapter 14 (Patreon)

Reduction & Relocation - Lori Warren

Chapter 14 - The Assignment Shot

[September 30th, 2005]

Lori followed the two doctors down the hall away from Dr. Walker’s lab and toward the door at the end.  Doctors Walker and Stanhope glanced in the moment of passing the small window of the Reduction Therapy room. Lori thought they might stop there but instead they continued on walking.  Lori couldn’t help herself but to peek in again. In the Reduction Therapy room, Lori saw Dr. Becotte was still sitting, now talking to the blonde intern named Quinn, the one who had escorted her this far.  Quinn looked to be cleaning up supplies and wiping surfaces down while Dr. Becotte was opening a sky-blue spiral notebook and jotting notes.

“Taylor just conducted an RT session an hour ago.” Dr. Walker said. “How many sessions do we have scheduled for today?”

“Seven.” Dr. Stanhope replied.

“My goodness!”

“When it rains it pours!” Dr. Stanhope said with a chuckle, “We’ve got Quinn Kaplan to thank for that.  Mostly, anyway.”

“Not surprising at all.  Of all the interns, her subject prospecting numbers are consistently the highest. How is she doing, by the way?  I had her conduct her first re-install a few days ago.

“Oh yes, with Mrs. Romero, right? She did mention it.” Dr. Stanhope said. “I was surprised that Dr. Bexley wasn’t present for that one.”

“She would have liked to but she had other obligations and couldn’t make it.” Dr. Walker said.

“I imagine that’s got to be surreal.  The very first Participant…it speaks volumes about your trust in Quinn to perform the re-install unsupervised.”

Dr. Walker shrugged.  “Mrs. Romero is a special woman and very important to this experiment..and others…but that perfectly describes nearly all Participants.  They’re all VIP’s.”

“And her subject?”

Lori didn’t see the look that Dr. Walker gave Dr. Stanhope due to her position behind them, but nothing was said…the two women only chuckled.

“Anyway, you said she’d mentioned the reinstall with Mrs. Romero.” Dr. Walker said.  “Did she talk much about it?”

Oh, she only mentioned it in passing, but she thought it was a very positive experience.” Dr. Stanhope said. “She was very excited to get the subject back with Mrs. Romero.”

The two doctors paused before a random examination room and swung open its door, inviting Lori inside. This marked the first acknowledgment she received from them since their walk had commenced, but she didn't take it personally. Recognizing their intelligence and busy schedules, she aimed not to be an obstruction. Lori stepped into the examination room, her gaze sweeping across its interior. Abundant illumination graced the space, accompanied by two sleek stools and a reclining bench akin to those found in exam rooms.

Nestled in one corner was a computer, while a portable cart holding a laptop rested near the bench, and a diminutive flat-screen television occupied the head of the bench. The remainder of the room was bare, emitting an unmistakable aura of cleanliness and aseptic ambiance. With a flick of a switch beside the door, Dr. Stanhope transformed the clear glass into an opaque frost, rendering the door's interior completely obscured.

"Alright, Lori," Dr. Walker's voice was gentle but unavoidably direct. "Would you be comfortable removing your clothing for this examination?"

A delicate blush crept up Lori's cheeks as she found herself facing an unfamiliar situation, flanked by two beautiful young doctors donning aqua gloves. Her initial response was hesitant; she began to gingerly lift the hem of her shirt, already imagining the look of judgemental discuss that would surely spread across their youthful faces as they beheld the stretch marks and extra padding on her tummy.  Before she could proceed any further, however, Dr. Walker's calming voice interjected. "Just your skirt and undergarments will be fine."

While not exactly thrilled by the prospect, Lori recognized the necessity of complying. She was also quite thrilled that she wouldn’t have to expose her belly flab, perhaps her second largest insecurity point right behind her large bottom.  With a mixture of self-consciousness and resigned determination, Lori complied, allowing the denim skirt to cascade into a pile around her feet. The maroon underwear, snug against her skin, followed suit, revealing the astounding contours of her form, earned with genetics, age, and extra calories here and there. As she extricated her curvaceous hips from the confines of the fabric, her rounded buttocks seemed to assert themselves, their presence undeniable as if they were in charge of the room. She bore the temporary imprints left by the snug material of her underwear, a testament to the hold it had on her cheeks and the pressure they imparted on her well-protected little man.

With the rapid plastic actuation of buttons manipulated under her expert touch, Dr. Walker transformed the recliner  into a bed-like configuration. Her next instruction was delivered with reassuring softness, "If you could lie down here, Lori," she patted the cushion invitingly, "on your stomach, please."

Lori complied…one thick knee, then the other, ascended onto the cushioned surface, her body gradually settling down. The cool touch of the vinyl cushion met her soft belly as her shirt inched upwards, revealing the lower portion of her flesh. Responding to an innate self-consciousness, she hurriedly tugged her shirt downward, attempting to conceal her skin as much as possible. Irony, it seemed, wasn't lost on her; she marveled at her concern over modestly covering her plump belly while her generously proportioned bare bottom not only lay exposed, but it basked unabashedly under the glare of the overhead fixtures, starkly illuminated and bathed in a clinical glow of light.

“Should I take this one?” Dr. Stanhope asked.

Dr. Walker said, “Sure, I’ll support.”

The red-headed doctor held up a syringe, its transparent body brimming with a fluid so vibrant it could have passed as a light source. With deliberate care, she flicked the syringe, ensuring that no errant air bubbles remained trapped within. Lori, though not gripped by an overwhelming fear of needles, had an inherent unease about them. The anticipation weighed on her, and she couldn't help but cringe at the very thought of the prick.

Amidst the tension of the moment, Lori's eyes shifted upwards and landed on an unexpected sight—a television.

It sprung to life, displaying the messy signal of snow before cutting to clear CCTV feed. To Lori’s astonishment, the CCTV feed was of the very exam room holding her and the two doctors.  It’s camera was directed squarely at her own form, an overhead device pointed specifically her sizeable, bare backside. A blend of surprise and self-awareness flooded her thoughts. She adjusted her hips slightly, observing on the screen as her flesh responded, an intricate dance akin to the undulating rhythm of gentle ocean waves.

Her curiosity piqued, Lori couldn't help but voice her concern, "Is that camera…recording?"

Dr. Walker responded with a reassuring tone, "Oh no, Lori, it doesn't record. It's there for training, so our observing interns don't need to huddle around, and it also offers our Participants a chance to witness how the subjects are handled." With a precise twist of a dial, the video feed gradually zoomed in closer to the presentation that was her pale bare bottom, revealing the fine details, blemishes, and traces of cellulite.

Lori's intrigue manifested as a question, "The other Participants…they watch?"

Dr. Walker nodded, acknowledging the curiosity, "Absolutely. Some of our long-term Participants develop a certain... shall we say, possessiveness over their subjects. Feedback from Participants has shown a preference for having the option to watch the proceedings."

‘What does he have to do with me getting a shot though?’ Lori thought.

Dr. Stanhope placed the syringe with measured precision on a paper towel. Beside it, she unfurled a disposable wet wipe, gradually unfolding the tiny rectangle until it expanded into a full sheet. Lori, her anticipation palpable, braced herself for the expected sensation of the wipe making contact with the plump expanse of her glute. She remained uncertain about the purpose of this particular injection, yet it logically followed that it would be directed into one of her exposed, curvaceous cheeks. With her eyes tightly shut, she readied herself for the impending moment. But unexpectedly, the anticipated prick of the syringe never happened.

A shiver coursed through Lori's frame, a reaction to an undersized, yet fully capable hand making contact with her left glute.

It was Dr. Walker's hand.

A curious mix of sensations flooded Lori's awareness; the hand was diminutive in size, and yet, it exerted a surprising amount of control and precision. It grappled with the substantial mass of her ass cheek, coaxing it away from its pale twin sister. Simultaneously, Dr. walker’s other hand joined in, its touch just as determined, contacting her substantial buttock from palm to fingertip.  There was so much flesh it would have taken half a dozen of those cute, small hands of hers to fully grasp just one of Lori’s cheeks.  The experienced hands worked to reveal the hidden nooks and crannies of Lori's posterior to the ambient light, the faint coolness of the sterile room's air, and the two pairs of curious cat-like eyes intently observing her. In this moment of exposure, the trio's collective gaze bore witness to the intimate unveiling of her most private and secretive anatomy.

As if by extension, this deliberate manipulation revealed more than just darkened, sun-starved flesh. It exposed the intricate vulnerability of Lori's body. Complex sensations and emotions swirled within her as she watched the television feed of her rump.  Cold air sank into the fleshy valley of her derriere.

‘God, he just looks so small…’ Lori thought as she squinted at the television.  ‘I mean…he always looks small…but in that valley, with my huge cheeks on either side of him…he just looks so vulnerable.’  Lying in the deepest point of the valley was her pale pink little man, trembling either in fear or in response to the deprivation of heat her big protective cheeks provided. Part of her felt sorry for him, it couldn’t be easy being that weak and dependent on her glutes for protection…and part of her just thought it was adorable.

The cold air felt nice inside her crack, as it had been many, many hours since any light or fresh air had made its way in.  She hoped that the scent was not too offensive to the doctors; she’d went out of her way to really clean the area in anticipation of today, but it had been quite a long day already.  Lori watched on the television as Dr. Walker pulled her cheeks open a little wider. WIth the new availability of space, Dr. Stanhope reached a gloved hand into Lori’s crack.  Lori trembled at the sensation of Dr. Stanhope’s knuckles grazing the soft and neglected skin of her inner cheeks.  She then felt a light flutter as the red-headed doctor pulled the itty-bitty stowaway out of Lori’s protective, warm bottom.

Dr. Stanhope carefully set the struggling little figure onto a paper towel inside a tray with raised edges.  There was another overhead camera, showing its feed in a tiny window in the bottom corner of the television, a PIP feed.  This overhead camera had the perfect angle, akin to a camera filming a magician’s tabletop from overhead.  Lori worried a little for the subject, hoping he would calm down and stop struggling against the red-head.  She was so much larger than him and she was going to get her way…that much was clear.  Things would be so much easier for him if he just complied, because it was clear she was going to do her job..whatever that may be.

Dr. Stanhope applied the wet wipe, which must have appeared the size of a parachute, to the subject’s naked body and began wiping him down.

Lori gasped, putting it all together. ‘Oh no…..HE’S getting that big shot?’

“Are you okay, Lori?” Dr. Walker asked.

“Yes, yes, I’m okay but what about...” Lori trailed off.

Dr. Walker didn’t leave a lot of time for Lori’s incomplete question to linger.  She knew exactly what Lori was worried about,

“You see, Lori.  As you might imagine, adjusting to the new environment of a woman’s rear end can be quite a difficult adjustment for our subjects.”

“Even more when the subjects are confined for extended periods of time.” Dr. Stanhope added.

Dr. Walker continued.  “If you remember our earlier conversation about breast cleavage confinement, breast cleavage confinement was less ideal as compared to buttock cleavage confinement due to the former’s higher eligibility criteria…but I will admit that there was one significant benefit breast cleavage confinement had over buttock cleavage confinement.  That benefit was the ease of acclimation.”

“After the establishment of RR Labs, we held a very limited study on mammary confinement…just to confirm we’d explored the topic thoroughly.  Over 95% of new subjects could psychologically ‘acclimate’ to the environment between the breasts of our Participants while around 1% simply could not adapt to the conditions. This incredibly small sample of subjects developed something we call ‘Dante’s Syndrome’. I won’t bore you with the details as we are still trying to understand it but Dante’s Syndrome, as far as we can tell, is incurable.”

“It’s also mentally devastating to the subject.” Dr. Stanhope added, still thoroughly and roughly wiping Lori’s subject down with the wet wipe.

“We noticed when switching to rear end confinement that the percentage of subjects that developed Dante’s Syndrome increased significantly…what were the numbers, Dr. Stanhope?”

“Somewhere around 40% is what the records say.”

“Right,” Dr. Walker said. “So we responded by developing what Dr. Stanhope is prepping to give the subject. We call it an Assignment Shot.”

Lori looked toward the tray where the syringe had been resting earlier; stationed next to it was the familiar container she’d spit into earlier.

“That’s what I spit in the container thing for earlier, isn’t it?”

Dr. Stanhope nodded, finally concluding her thorough wipe session on the subject. She set him down on the paper towel, orienting him on his stomach.

“That’s correct,” Dr. Stanhope said. “What we do is we use a DNA sample from our Participant and synthesize it into a deliverable medium that imprints onto the subject.”

Dr. Stanhope had the subject pinned down with a single left thumb on his left thigh as she readied the syringe.  “Think of it as a VIP membership pass to your rear end that he gets to wear around his neck for…well…”

“...indefinitely,” Dr. Walker completed the thought.

Dr. Stanhope nodded with a smile.  “It’ll make his experience more tolerable; his body will sync with yours and your body will essentially accept him as something that belongs there. It really makes things easier for everyone.”

“Make sure you hold down the right shoulder as well….yes, like that…with your index finger.” Dr. Walker said, looking down at the squirming, panicking naked man.  “His struggling will intensify when you inject and we don’t want him pulling any muscles.”

Dr. Stanhope heeded Dr. Walker’s advice and precisely pinned down the subject in two spots, drastically limiting his movement.  Tiny little squeaks of protest filled the small exam room, but they were oh so very faint as Dr. Stanhope lowered the syringe. The broad, wide tip bit into the subject’s left ass cheek and then plunged in.  Lori could definitely understand now why the television was there.  She trusted these doctors and knew that what they were doing for him was in his best interests, but she just wanted to get him back in her bottom where it was safe…as soon as possible.

“Push very slowly”, Dr. Walker said as Dr. Stanhope pressed the plunger with her thumb.  “If you press too quickly, you might rupture.”

“I’ve got it, Katie.” Dr. Stanhope said, her white upper teeth creating a dent in her rose-red lower lip as she focused strongly on the injection.

As the squeaking got louder and more frantic, and as Dr. Stanhope forced more of the vivid bright liquid into the pinned subject, Dr. Walker continued talking. Lori’s best guess was that it was for her own benefit; meant to distract a distressed looking Lori.

“We usually prefer to administer Assignment Shots before installations, but due to the unique circumstances of your participation…how I was in Italy for a conference and we were trying to get the subject paired quickly, we just couldn’t wait.  We somewhat broke protocol, but subject delivery methods are something we’ve been talking about for years…we’re going to get there eventually and this was a great test run but I digress.  I think it worked out for the best; I was able to attend the entire conference, and you got to start participating and getting paid much sooner than if we waited…the only inconvenienced party was the subject, but now residing in your backside will be much more…comfortable…going forward.  At least once the shot starts to take effect, that is.”

Biting her lip in concentration, Dr. Stanhope removed the syringe and Lori could see a droplet of liquid drip down the subject and onto the paper towel he was lying atop.  The poor little thing was sobbing uncontrollably… and the wound on his tiny little bottom looked quite painful.

Lori had this primal instinct to just snatch him out of the doctor’s hands and stuff him back between her big glutes, pull up her underwear, and seal him away from the pain and embarrassment the big world carried.  He just couldn’t handle it anymore…not at this size.

Dr. Stanhope set the syringe down and reached for the wipe again.  She was a little more gentle this time as she wiped down the wound, sanitizing it thoroughly to protect it from infection.

Observing the tiny figure, Lori couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the fragile being before her. "He's trembling," she remarked, her tone infused with genuine sadness at the sight of his distress.

Dr. Walker responded in her typical matter-of-fact manner, "Yes, he's experiencing a fair amount of discomfort due to the shot. But it's for his own benefit. We’re setting him on the path to success."

With a shared understanding, Dr. Stanhope nodded in agreement, delicately raising the weak and whimpering subject up to her eyeline. She cradled him close, her focus shifting intently to the miniature being in her grasp. Her eyes, each glistening far more scientific curiosity than compassion, converged on his diminutive features. Dr. Stanhope's dedication was evident

"Subject's overall health appears relatively stable," she assessed, her gaze unwavering as she even took a moment to adjust a wayward strand of her red hair obstructing her view.

Dr. Walker, leaning over Dr. Stanhope's shoulder. She extended a gentle finger, her touch barely brushing the subject's tiny form as she carefully evaluated his condition. With a light but deliberate grasp, she held one of his minute arms between her thumb and index finger, assessing his muscle mass with a critical eye.

"There's a mild atrophy in his muscle mass, as anticipated," she noted, her voice thoughtful and clinical but with a hint of curiosity. "However, considering the circumstances, he should be further along. It seems the efforts he put forth in his struggles had a greater impact on Lori than we anticipated.”

A contemplative pause lingered before she released his fragile arm, allowing it to fall back into its previous position.

“Let’s get him home.”  Dr. Walker said, returning to Lori’s side.

‘Thank god..’ Lori thought, relief washing ove there. ‘This poor little thing…please just get back to where you’re safe.’

Lori's gaze remained locked, captivated by the unfolding scene as Dr. Walker once again embarked on the delicate task of parting the single mother’s voluminous, flesh-filled buttocks. Dr. Stanhope’s gloved hand entered the frame of the CCTV feed, and with precision and confidence, she lowered the crying subject toward the expanse of Lori's generous rump. The subject, held by Dr. Stanhope's fingertips, disappeared into the crevice between the soft, fleshy mounds. Lori was keenly aware of the sensation—the knuckles grazed against the fleshy walls of her curvaceous buttocks followed by the touch of the subject against the warm contours of her crack. The placement, almost identical to when he was first removed, rested at the top of the valley.

“Is this your preferred anal alignment?” Dr. Stanhope asked quietly, a hand still holding the subject firmly against the floor of Lori’s crack while Dr. Walker held the big, soft cheeks apart.

Lori grappled with the confusion Dr. Stanhope's words had stirred within her. The realization dawned on her, and she chimed in, "I don't really have a preference."

“Hmm…well, in that case.”

Dr. Stanhope applied subtle pressure and guided the subject downward. A single finger urged him toward Lori's delicate entrance. In an almost fluid motion, she maneuvered the subject onto his stomach, positioning him face-down at the threshold of Lori’s pulsating, sensitive ring. A gentle massage followed, as Dr. Stanhope firmly coaxed him to nestle against the dark rim. A mix of emotions surged through Lori. Her heart raced, and an audible gasp escaped her lips as she felt the tiny body press against her sensitive opening, the pressure both surprising and titillating.

As the pressure from Dr. Stanhope's finger lessened, Lori sensed Dr. Walker's movements—her hands, which had been holding Lori's cheeks apart, gradually lifted. The large, pliable mounds rebounded, converging in a cascade of jiggles and ripples. The lessening of Dr. Stanhope’s restrictive pressure on the subject was proportionately traded for Lori’s cheeks as if the two were exchanging responsibility so that the other could have some time off.  The subject's whimpers were instantly muffled by the reunion of her excessively large buttocks, concealed by the enveloping flesh.

Lori sighed in relief.

With the procedure seemingly concluded, Dr. Walker's reassuring words reached Lori's ears, "All done, Lori. You did great."

A comforting pat on her shoulder punctuated the sentiment and she was proud of getting through it so gracefully.

She felt bad that the subject had to go through all that just now, but at least now he was safe and sound back in her bottom.

“We’re going to give you some privacy so you can get dressed.  Unfortunately, I have to run and take care of something but Dr. Stanhope here will happily get you and your subject home. If you have any questions or concerns…ANY AT ALL…you can call me any time!”

Lori took this opportunity to change into the extra pair of underwear she’d brought with her.  The ones that didn’t turn her soft cheeks into cement boulders of compression.

‘He sooo earned this.’ Lori thought with a smile as she hiked them up over her big bulging bottom. She even considered rewarding him by not wearing the tight Training Underwear for at least another week.

The soft blue cotton of her typical panties contained her cheeks wonderfully, but they weren’t squeezed into cement boulders around him…she was sure he appreciated that.

Lori exited the exam room and the two were ready to leave.

“Ready to go?” Dr. Stanhope asked.

Lori nodded with a smile and the two entered the hallway just as the gorgeous blonde Lori had seen earlier was rounding the corner.

“Hey Dr. Stanhope, have you seen Brandi?”

“Hello Dr. Becotte, I saw her check a few subjects out of the SSF earlier.”

Lori felt a tremble surging through her body.  The electricity sparked as high as her scalp, as low as her toes, and most strongly between her legs and in her breasts.  She couldn’t stop staring at what was in the beautiful young doctor’s hands.

Dr. Stanhope followed Dr. Becotte’s gaze to the stunned Participant by her side.

“Dr. Becotte, this is Lori.  She’s a new Participant.”

Dr. Becotte extended a hand and with a huge smile, her pretty, full lips moved as she chewed a stick of gum. “Yes, I think I saw you in the waiting room earlier today.  Welcome!”

‘When you were flirting with that boy.’ Lori thought, her heart pounding.

Lori shook the friendly woman’s hand, gazing into Dr. Becotte’s crystal blue eyes just for as long as she needed to before her gaze returned to the stainless steel tray in the blonde’s hands.  In the center was a tiny, naked little man, staring up at her and trembling.

She recognized him from the waiting room.

It was the handsome man that Dr. Becotte was flirting with.

It was Brandon.

“Lori has just finished her first weekly screening and she’s ready to leave.  Would you mind escorting her out?” Dr. Stanhope asked, looking at her own wrist-watch.

“Sure, no problem…I’m heading that way anyway.”

“Okay great.  It was so nice meeting you, Lori.  Good luck!” Dr. Stanhope said with a smile before walking off.

Dr. Becotte smiled, “Alright Lori, right this way.”

Dr. Becotte, now in charge of Lori's guidance, assumed the role seamlessly. Walking beside the blonde doctor, Lori couldn't help but admire her—she emanated the kind of beauty that belonged in fashion magazines and Hollywood films. From afar, she was mesmerizing; up close, she was even more captivating.

As Dr. Becotte engaged her in conversation, Lori's attention was inexplicably drawn to Brandon. The transformation was undeniable; once seen as confident and cool, he now appeared vulnerable, enveloped by a sense of fear and uncertainty. The dynamics had shifted dramatically. Where once he had been the unattainable hunk she'd look at with a mix of nervousness, self-consciousness, and longing, he was now a tiny, fragile being in need of protection. An instinctual urge took hold of her—a desire to shield him from harm's way. It could have been mother’s instinct..or maybe it would be more accurate to attribute the instinct to the nature of being a Participant. Either way, and quite unfortunately for him, her remarkable assets for cushion, warmth, and unrivaled protection were already in use.

Breaking eye contact, Lori confessed, "It's going okay... it's only my first week, so it's all very new to me." Her words were laden with an underlying shiver, a sensation exacerbated by her subject's alignment, rubbing against her sensitive asshole with every step she took. Brandon, a stark contrast to his former allure, cast worried glances around, his anxiety evident as he darted his gaze between Lori, Dr. Becotte, and the other busy and uncaring scientists and doctors populating the bustling hallway.

Lori inquired, gesturing to Brandon on the tray, "Is he okay?"

Dr. Becotte's expression momentarily mirrored her confusion, "Who?"

Following Lori's pointed finger, her gaze settled on the tiny, naked figure of Brandon. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, "Oh, the subject! Yes, he's completely fine. Just a little cold, but that's temporary. He's headed to our adaptation intern, Brandi. She’s VERY good at warming up cold subjects. Speaking of which, there she is. Brandi!"

Before Lori and Dr. Becotte stood Brandi, her back turned to them. A departure from the lab coats and clean suits that were ubiquitous to RR Labs as far as Lori could tell, Brandi sported a distinctive outfit: a short yet professional, untucked women's dress shirt paired with sleek black pants. The ensemble was a departure from the norm, an intriguing contrast to the conventional attire that populated the facility. But what truly caught Lori's attention was the manner in which her attire accentuated her form.

The dress shirt did little to conceal the curves of her generous backside, instead framing it and drawing mesmerizing focus and attention. Every contour was hinted at beneath the expensive-looking fabric, the garment's tightness allowing a tantalizing glimpse of the soft swell of her buttocks. The black pants, hugging her with an almost magnetic allure, showcased her curves in all their astounding, youthful, gravity-defying glory. Yet, a small detail betrayed a hint of discomfort—the pronounced wedgie, a subtle imperfection that paradoxically added a touch of authenticity to her polished appearance.

As anticipation hung in the air, the woman turned around, revealing herself fully to the waiting duo. Her smile was radiant, a warm and welcoming expression that beckoned forth familiarity.

Her greeting was casual yet infused with a sense of respect, "Oh hey, Dr. Becotte."

“I’ve got another one for ya.  This is….” Dr. Becotte held the tray steady with one hand and with the other, she looked at her paperwork, “….Subject 480f.”

“Okay, is this the one that just finished with Reduction Therapy?” Brandi asked, and Dr. Becotte smiled, holding out the tray.

Brandon stared up at the big, powerful women that surrounded him as if he were a poor little lost puppy.  Lori’s heart really went out to him.

Brandi smiled at the tiny Brandon and plucked him up into her bare hand.

“Ive got another subject in at the moment... he’ll hit the half hour mark in just a few minutes.” She said to Dr. Becotte in a normal voice. She then looked down her cute button nose at Brandon and in a slightly higher pitched, much more condescending tone, she spoke to the shivering little man. “...then it’ll be your turn! Yes, it will!”

Lori saw the panic and terror in Brandon’s eyes, but Brandi just giggled and closed her fist around him, lowering her hand to her side.

Dr. Becotte gently chuckled, handing the folder to Brandi, “Thanks Brandi.”

Dr. Becotte motioned to the door down the hall. “That door will take you back to the waiting room.  You can check out with Laura at the front, she’ll validate any parking or print out any transportation tickets you may need to get where you’re going.”

Dr. Becotte extended a hand, and Lori shook it.  “It was great meeting you.  I hope we see you and your subject again soon!”

Lori turned to leave.  With no women to distract her anymore, she was focused on the tiny little man in her bottom, and the way he was tickling her most sensitive area.  She wouldn’t be doing this all the time, not by any stretch, but she was very appreciative of Dr. Stanhope for taking the liberty of installing him this way.

He was back where he belonged, and now it was time for her to go back where she belonged.

~