In Nurse Poppy's Care Ch. 01

He frowned. Something felt off. Had it... always been midriff-baring? Hadn't it been covering, um, more of her before?

Her hand sent waves of tingly glitter into his mind, dazzling him, scattering his thoughts. "Don't you feel nice, though? So much better?"

His eyelids fluttered slightly as the healing magic brushed away his concerns. Despite the healer's frustrating treatment, he did feel better. Much better. And he probably hadn't noticed how she was dressed before due to his concussion. It wasn't as if it was that scanty. He couldn't even see much of her cleavage.

He squirmed slightly, feeling discomfort down below. Not that he was looking. It was just... hard to look anywhere else. She was smiling so condescendingly at him, he didn't want to look at her eyes. And it was hard to look elsewhere in the room with everything so foggy. It was easy to stare. But he couldn't be seen to stare.

"Dear?" He blinked hard, staring up at her. Focus. Focus. She was smiling that patronizing smile again. "Are you feeling better?"

He felt wonderful. A little too wonderful, with her breasts bouncing right above him, her ass so soft and plush as it squished against his face, that silken skirt brushing pleasantly by his cheek. She was like... like a second pillow, almost. And her touches kept sending those nice pinpricks of relief. A little too wonderful.

... wait. He managed to restore his frown. Was she sitting on the operating table now? Right next to him? When had she moved up there?

"No," he muttered, trying to think through the fog. She was being... too much. Too much touching, too much flirting. This felt wrong, even if the magic required her to do all of this.

She shook her head, eyebrows raising. "No? You don't? But you seem..." She blinked, glancing back to the cabinet. "Oh! Oh, poor dear, you're right."

"What?"

She didn't answer, instead doing something just out of his admittedly limited field of vision. She turned back, now holding up a spoonful of... oh, no, not more.

She smiled brightly and patted him on the head like a puppy. "Say 'ah,'" she cooed, holding up the wooden spoon, full almost to overflowing with that horrid sugary syrup.

"You—" He didn't even manage a second word before his mouth was full of sappy, sticky goodness. "Mm!" he protested.

And her equally sappy, sticky, sugary voice was cooing, "There's a good patient for Poppy." All the while, she stroked his hair, petting him, rewarding him. Praising him.

He stirred slightly, lips smacking as the spoon pulled out of his unresisting mouth. He blinked up at Poppy. She was... sparkling...

She stroked his hair, and he couldn't help but sigh at the nice, comforting feelings her hands were pouring into him. "Such a good patient! So good. You're doing so well. Mm." She glanced down his body and lightly covered a giggle. "Oh, yes, Nurse Poppy understands the problem."

"Mm." He stared up at Nurse Poppy's bounteous bosom in a daze. Everything was pink. He felt so sleepy, but he couldn't quite fall asleep. He could only lie there, half-awake, and enjoy her stroking. Enjoy being petted by Nurse Poppy. Or... try not to enjoy it, for some reason.

"Oh, Nessi!" she called, her voice so pretty and musical he barely heard the words. "Nessi, Nurse Poppy needs you, sweetie!"

Alrek felt himself sinking into her every touch, into her nice, soothing petting, her tickling fingers gliding over his sensitive face and neck and arms. Sparkling. Tingling. Sending his mind spinning in misty, sleepy spirals.

He did feel some vague embarrassment, though, when he realized she'd been smiling at his tented trousers. He hoped she wasn't going to make a big deal about that.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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