Page 3 of Their Little Foursome

“Arms up,” she directed.

Blake obeyed, his arms lifting over his head and without being told, bent forward a bit to allow her to tug his t-shirt over his head. With a smile, Bev paused in pulling it off as he had Scott, his beloved stuffy in one hand.

“Captain Blake, this is Scotty requesting you transport right to left,” she said in her very best Scottish accent which usually earned her a soft chuckle. Tonight, however, the only reaction it evoked was one hand opening to release the toy and the other opening to accept it. Every maternal sense Beverly possessed told her something was definitely off with her Little boy.

She remained silent until she had untied his sneakers and removed them as well as his socks. Unbuttoning his jeans, Bev unzipped them and worked the denim down to his ankles. Without a word, Blake lifted first one foot and then the other. If she hadn’t already suspected his thoughts had teleported toa far-off universe, the fact that she was able to not only tuck her fingers into the waistband of his briefs, but pull them down without a single shudder, shuffle, or blush at having his private parts bared, was another clue. But it was the fact his penis hadn’t begun to stiffen that told her all she needed to know.

With her Little boy completely naked, Beverly straightened and placed the back of her hand against his forehead. He didn’t feel overly warm.

“Pumpkin, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Littles swearing they felt great when they weren’t wasn’t anything new to her, but it wasn’t a tactic Blake normally employed. She placed her palm on his chest over his heart and pressed the fingertips of her other hand on the underside of his wrist. Both his pulse and heartbeat were steady. It didn’t appear he was ill, but she’d soon discover if he was running even a low-grade fever.

It hadn’t taken long for Beverly to realize that being physically smaller than her Little caused a bit of a conundrum. Knowing that playground equipment wasn’t the total of Colt’s talent, she’d met with him and explained their needs, and he’d come through. The stool made it possible for her Little to drape himself over her lap and not only be supported by its width, but its height prohibited his knees or elbows from dragging on the floor.

Colt’s creation helped with more than just her Little’s physical needs. It served in adjusting his mindset as well. Just like a much smaller person, Blake could hang off his Mommy’s lap, trusting her to keep him safe even while tending to needs he’d much rather not think about.

She moved to settle on the custom-crafted stool and patted her lap. “Okay, pumpkin, right on over, if you please.”

“Mommy, you don’t need…that,” Blake whined.

Thatwas what was inside the long, rectangular box she’d set on the bathroom counter.

“I believe Mommy is the one who decides on what I need to take care of my precious Little boy. Now, no more fussing. The sooner we make sure you’re not coming down with something, the quicker we’ll be snuggling on the couch watching the movie you pick out.”

The mention of their weekly movie night had his feet shuffling closer and though a heavy sigh accompanied the move, Blake obediently draped himself over her knees.

Beverly took a moment to simply enjoy the beautiful picture he made in his submission. His bare bottom was both soft and firm beneath her hand as she ran her fingers over his skin. She didn’t rush, taking her time to stroke over muscles that always tightened when he knew she’d be opening that box. It never took very long before they began to relax beneath the gentle massage. While it was important for his mind and soul to submit, watching his physical body also give itself over to her care filled Beverly with a sense of gratitude and contentment she’d once believed she’d never experience.

“That’s it, just relax. Mommy’s got you,” Bev murmured, moving her hand up to slide along his spine until her fingers were able to run through his hair. When they’d first met, his hair had been short, clipped almost to the point of being a buzz cut, but now, she could wind soft, blond curls around her fingers. They felt like silk and were the color of summer wheat shot through with darker strands of gold. She could spend hours just running her fingers over her Little’s hair and body, but she had a job to do. Giving his bottom a final soft pat, Beverly removed the cloth that covered the tray she’d prepared earlier. Picking up the first item, she began.

“Now, don’t be naughty,” Beverly softly chided as muscles that had been completely lax tensed with the sound of the latexglove snapping snugly around her wrist. “Relax that sweet little bottom and let Mommy get you ready.”

She reached for the jar that had been in their shopping cart only a few short hours ago. Opening it, she waited for Blake to obey, wondering if there would ever be a night when those weren’t the first words of their ritual. When he was no longer clenching, she dipped a small rubber spatula into the jar and scooped up a dollop of the petroleum jelly. After transferring it to a small dish, she closed the jar and set it and the spatula aside. Dipping her gloved finger into the dish, she used the fingers of her ungloved hand to separate Blake’s buttocks. The moment his bottom hole was revealed, a tremor shuddered through him and he gave the sweetest little whimper. Aware that it took a great deal of courage to entrust oneself to another, especially when it came to such intimate, embarrassing acts, Beverly shushed him softly. “It’s okay, pumpkin. You’re being so good for Mommy. This won’t take but a few minutes.”

With her target revealed, Beverly carefully applied the lubricant to his anus, rubbing it all around the ring, watching it valiantly tighten as if preparing itself for battle. She couldn’t help but smile, knowing that it, like its owner, would lose the battle to keep her out every single time. Once the entire area was liberally coated, she gathered another dollop on her gloved finger and spread his cheeks a bit wider.

“Mommy’s going to slide her finger in now. It’s important to make sure the inside of my babyboy’s bottom is just as slippery as the outside. Deep breath in and then let it out and open for me.”

She heard Blake take a ragged breath, watched his body tense as he held it in and smiled when he ever so slowly exhaled.

“Ready?”

“Y-yes, Mommy.”

“That’s my good boy.” With his consent given, she began to press her finger inside, her eyes glued to the most intimate part of her Little boy. Every centimeter she gained was accompanied by the sweetest sounds one could ever hear. When one finger was buried to the hilt, she twisted her wrist, applying the petroleum jelly to the velvet walls of his bowels. The heat from his body allowed the jelly to begin to soften and spread more easily. Beverly pulled her finger free to gather another blob and to add a second finger, working both into his bottom. It wasn’t truly necessary to apply this second glob of lubricant, but she simply loved to listen to him and watch his little bottom hole struggle to keep her fingers out of its depths.

“Such a sweet bottom, swallowing Mommy’s fingers right up.” She began to slowly move her fingers forward and back, finger-fucking his bottom and feeling his cock stirring as it continued to stiffen against her leg. She wasn’t nude like Blake, but when she’d taken her seat, she’d allowed her robe to part, the fabric sliding to puddle on the seat of the stool around her hips while the rest of her remained covered. It wasn’t anything Blake had ever commented on, but she’d noticed he never once failed to look down to see if Mommy’s lap was covered before he took his place over it. She was looking forward to when she allowed him up because she knew he’d look again. His face would flush red and his nostrils would flare as he watched his Mommy slide her fingers over the wet spot on her thigh, rubbing his precum into her skin while tsking that he’d made a little mess.

Feeling the first drop of stickiness on her inner thigh, she smiled and pulled her fingers free. His sigh sounded far more like one of disappointment rather than relief, but he needn’t fear. She wouldn’t leave him empty for long. Unlatching the narrow rectangular box, she opened it and removed the long, thick, rectal thermometer. The sight of the ones in the infirmary at the Ranch never failed to make a Little gasp and blush andfidget, often causing hands to whip back to cover a bottom. And just like those Littles, her own Little whimpered and fidgeted until she laid a hand on his bottom.

“No squirming,” Beverly said firmly. “You’ll need to stay very still while your thermometer is in your bottom.”

“Please, Mommy, I can put it under my tongue,” Blake said, his voice having lost its adult gruffness to become that of a child.

“Silly boy,” she said as she shook the thermometer to ensure the mercury was where it belonged. “Your mouth is far too small for your bootie thermometer.”

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