“Juliana, open this door right now or else I’ll call Mark and he can come over and open it with his spare key.”
Crap! I forgot I’d given him that. At the time, I’d thought it was a smart idea. Sighing, I opened my apartment door to let Robert in. He came in, and I closed and locked the door. When I turned around to face him, I decided I must look worse than I thought because he froze when he saw me.
“Oh, baby girl. Come here,” he said, holding his arms open.
I don’t know what came over me, but I flung myself into his arms and just started to sob. All the pent up stress and worry that Boyle would find me again came all out.
“There there, baby girl. You should have called me the instant you got sick. I would have been here in a heartbeat to take care of you.”
“I… I’m… s-sorry!” I sobbed into his chest.
“It’s okay. What matters is that I’m here now. Why don’t we go into your bedroom so I can see what’s going on with you.”
“Okay.” I nodded and started to pull away, but to my surprise, he picked me up just like he would a little girl, carried me into my bedroom, and placed me down on my bed.
“Don’t move,” he said, before he left my bedroom and came right back in carrying three bags. He placed two on the ground and one on the bed next to me. I knew it was his doctor’s bag.
“How are you feeling right now, little girl?”
“Sleepy and my stomach hurts from dry heaving.” I yawned.
“You do look mighty tired. You haven’t been sleeping well? Open your mouth, please,” he said and placed a thermometer in it.
While we waited for my temperature, he lifted my shirt and started to palpate my stomach. Then he pulled the thermometer out of my mouth.
“You have a slight fever, baby. Is there anything else bothering you I should know about?” he asked, moving his bag and sitting down next to me.
I felt my face blush bright red as another symptom came to mind. I hadn’t gone to the bathroom since Monday evening, but I didn’t want to tell him that. So instead, I just shook my head.
“Are you lying to me, little girl? Remember, if you lie to Daddy that will result in a punishment. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me anything?”
How does he know when I’m lying? I wondered. Knowing that I wasn’t going to get away with the lie, I admitted, “I… I… I haven’t gone to the… bathroom.”
“You haven’t gone to the bathroom?” he repeated, increasing my embarrassment.
I nodded, feeling my face get even redder.
“When was the last time you went?”
“Monday evening.”
“Thank you for telling me. You will still be getting a punishment for attempting to lie. I cannot have my baby girl trying to do that again, but I will give it to you once you feel better. I think now, though, we should go into your bathroom.”
“Why?” I asked, beginning to freak out. I didn’t want to move. Now that my Daddy was here, all I wanted to do was jump into his lap and fall asleep.
“It’s Friday night, little girl. If you haven’t gone to the bathroom in four days, then I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you an enema.”
“No!” I shouted at him and jumped off the bed. Just as I reached the doorway, one of his muscular arms wrapped around me. I tried to fight him, but after a minute, I fell against his chest in exhaustion.
“Relax, baby girl. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, turning me around in his arms.
“I don’t wanna an enema,” I said, giving him my best puppy dog eyes, hoping that would make him decide not to give me one.
“Sweetie, if I didn’t think that this was the best thing to do for you, would I do it?”
I sighed and shook my head.
“Do you think I would ever intentionally hurt you?”
I shook my head again. I knew he would never hurt me, but what person would ever want to have their boyfriend/daddy give them an enema?
“Then you have to trust me, baby girl. I’m only doing what’s best for you.”
“Fine, but I still don’t like it, Daddy,” I pouted.
“You don’t have to. Now come on, after your enema, you’ll have a nice bath, and I’ll dress you in your jammies, and then it’ll be bedtime,” he said, letting go of my hand for a second and grabbing his doctor bag.
“Okay,” I said, taking his hand again and walking towards my bathroom with him.
He shut the bathroom door, put his doctor bag down, and said, “Baby girl, I want you to disrobe from the waist down.”
With shaky hands, I did as I was told as he pulled the enema equipment out of his bag and got it set up. I kept reminding myself that plenty of other people did this and had survived. In fact, I’d read an article that some people voluntarily did it on a daily basis with coffee.