My Adopted Mom

[ashuezy2]

Scene 1


My name is Shaan. I live in Delhi but this story begins much much earlier.

I used to live alone with my mom at our house in Nainital. My father works in the Security, So I rarely get to see him.

One day, I got little sick and my mom called Dr. Anjali to come and take a look at me.

As she was going her check up, I noticed she was carefully looking at me. She told my mom that I am little malnourished and need a good diet. I was worried so I took her hand and held it tightly. She smiled and pulled my hand closer to her chest and told don't worry you will be alright.

Then she sat close to me for 15 minutes and talked with me in a playful manner. Just like a mom and son would do.

My mom told Anjali that he just looks outside at the Naini lake and thinks the whole day.
Anjali told me, if you ever feel lonely just come to my clinic for a quick chat.

[Mom.ridhima]

You have made a very good start to the story, take it forward and focus more on the story than on sex. If you need any ideas, message me.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 2

A few days passed. My sickness was completely gone, but the real sickness "the loneliness" was still sitting in my chest, heavy and thick like the Nainital fog.

I was sitting in the verandah, watching the boats on Naini Lake, but not really seeing them. My real mom was inside, busy with her afternoon puja. She was there, but she wasn't.

My mind, however, was far away. It was on Mall Road, in a small clinic. My mind was on Dr. Anjali. Her smile. And... that feeling. The impossible, soft warmth of her chest when she had pulled my hand against her. It was a memory I replayed over and over, each time feeling a jolt. Her invitation to "come for a chat" felt less like a doctor's polite offer and more like a secret promise.
I finally found the (courage). I stood up, my legs feeling shaky. I told my mom I was going for a walk, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I was afraid she would hear it.

The walk to Mall Road was a blur. What if she’s busy? What if she forgot? What will I say?
The clinic was almost empty. A grumpy-looking compounder (assistant) was at the front desk, writing in a big register. He looked up at me, annoyed. I nervously mumbled something about seeing the doctor... that she had... asked me to come. He looked like he was about to turn me away.
Then, I heard her voice from the inner room.

Dr. Anjali: Arey Vinod, who is it? Bhejo andar! (Send them in!)

My heart leapt. I pushed the door open slowly.
She was sitting at her big wooden desk. She looked up, and a huge, warm smile spread across her face. She looked so beautiful, it made my stomach do a flip. She said she was just thinking about me.

She remembered. She remembered I was lonely.
She got up and walked over to me, her presence filling the small room. She put the back of her hand on my forehead, just like a mom does. Her touch was cool and soft. No fever. Good.

But she said I still looked very (thin). She leaned in a little, her eyes searching mine, and asked if the main problem... the loneliness... was still there.
I just nodded, feeling a sudden, overwhelming shyness.
A playful, naughty glint appeared in her eyes. It was time, she said, for some "special medicine" for that.

I watched, frozen, as she walked to the room's door and locked it from the inside.
My eyes went wide. She saw my expression and laughed, a low, soft sound. It was just so that (idiot) Vinod didn't disturb our "special check-up," she explained.
She pointed to the patient bed in the corner. Come, sit here. And take off your shirt.
My mind stalled. But... I'm not sick.

Dr. Anjali: Chup! (Quiet!)

Her voice was soft but firm, and filled with that same teasing, playful tone. I am the doctor. You are malnourished, remember? I need to check if my naughty patient is eating properly or not.

My hands trembled as I slowly pulled my shirt over my head. I felt so (strange), so exposed. She came very close. I was instantly enveloped in her perfume. It was mogra (jasmine), sweet and intoxicating.
Her warm fingers started pressing on my chest, checking my ribs one by one.
Hmm. Still just bones.

She said I needed (heat), and a proper (diet). Her hand moved down from my chest to my stomach. She pinched my side, very playfully.
Hai Ram! Not even a little bit of charbi (fat) on you. You are just a sukha lakdi (dry stick).
I was blushing so hard I couldn’t move or speak. My skin was on fire where she’d touched me. She must have seen my red face. Her voice softened, "Ssshh. Don't worry."

Then she said the words that made my whole body buzz.
"Your new mom will take care of you."
She smiled, her eyes looking straight into mine. Now, I will give you the real medicine for your loneliness.
She put her hands on my shoulders and gently pulled my head forward.
It was not a normal hug. It was a full, tight embrace. My face was pressed directly between her big, soft breasts. It was the same place my hand had been, but this was a thousand times better. They were impossibly soft, incredibly warm, and I felt like I was sinking into her. I was drowning in her softness and her mogra scent.
I could barely breathe. I felt her whisper in my ear, her breath warm.

Dr. Anjali: Feel better now, my beta (son)? This is the best diet.
I was frozen, paralyzed by the feeling. I couldn't speak. I just nodded, my face still buried in her bosom.
She held me there for what felt like an eternity before slowly pulling back, though she kept her hands on my shoulders, holding me in place. She looked at me with a satisfied smile.

Dr. Anjali: Good boy. Now, you listen to me. You come here every two days. I will personally check if you are gaining weight or not. Samjhe? (Understand?)
My voice was shaky. "Yes, doctor-ji."
Dr. Anjali: Good. Now run along before my next patient comes. And haan...
As I fumbled with my shirt, my hands still trembling, she tapped my nose playfully.
Dr. Anjali: This is our little secret, okay?
She gave me a wink.
I unlocked the door and almost ran out of the room, my shirt half on.
My loneliness was gone. The fog in my chest had vanished. But a new, strange, hot feeling was starting in my whole body, and I was already counting the minutes until my next "check-up."

[ashuezy2]

You have made a very good start to the story, take it forward and focus more on the story than on sex. If you need any ideas, message me.

Thanks for the feedback.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 3

The next two days were a strange new kind of torture. I couldn't focus on anything. At home, I just stared at my food, my real mom’s voice a distant buzz. My mind was somewhere else.
My mind was with Dr. Anjali.

I could still smell her mogra perfume. I could still feel her soft, warm... hugs. That hot, aching feeling was still inside me, like a coal burning low and steady.
I was not lonely. I was... waiting.

On the second day, I didn't even wait for my mom to get busy. I just mumbled that I was going for my "check-up" and almost ran to Mall Road. Vinod, the compounder, gave me a bad look as I entered. I didn’t care.
Then I heard her voice, sharp and happy, cutting through the room.

Dr. Anjali: Vinod! Arey, that is my special patient! Let him in. (You) go and get tea! Jao! (Go!)
I saw Vinod make a face before he left. She had sent him away. For me.
I rushed inside. She was standing by the window. She turned, and her smile was so warm it made my knees weak. She was already teasing me, calling me her golu-molu (my chubby one).
But... I am not golu-molu...
She just laughed, a low, soft sound. Not yet! But I will make you. Chalo, lock the door.
My heart did a heavy thump. This was our ritual. I went and slid the kundi (latch), the sound of the metal bolt clicking into place sealing us in.
When I turned, she was sitting on the edge of the patient bed. She patted the space next to her.

Dr. Anjali: Come. And shirt off. Your Anjali-mom needs to see the progress.
I was less shy this time. My hands fumbled, but I was almost eager. I took off my shirt and sat next to her. The air in the room felt electric.
She looked at me, pretending to be very serious. Tch tch tch.
She poked my stomach. No improvement! Bilkul (Absolutely) no change. She called me a dheet ladka (stubborn boy) for not listening to my new mom.
But I am eating!
She just shook her head, as if she knew better. I was still so cold, she said. She put her full hand flat on my chest, and her palm was so warm it made my skin tingle. See?

Dr.Anjali: I only have to fix you. We need to warm you up. That's the only way the nourishment will work.
How...

Dr. Anjali: Ssshhh. Doctor's orders.
She put her hands on my shoulders and pulled me... but not into a hug this time. She pulled me onto her lap, sideways. Just like a small, small child.
I was frozen. My head was on her shoulder, and my whole side was pressed against her soft, warm body. I was so embarrassed... but I didn't move an inch. I melted into her.

Her voice was a soft whisper right in my ear, her breath tickling my skin. Bas. Just sit still. My heat will fix you.
She started rubbing my back, slowly, in big, warm circles. Her hand was so sure, and her body was so soft. She called me her little gudda (doll), her naughty beta who needed "special feeding."

I could feel her dhak-dhak-dhak... her heartbeat... right under my cheek. I just closed my eyes. That hot, achy feeling was starting again, but this time it was stronger, spreading from her hand on my back, all through my body.
Knock, knock!

"Doctor sahiba, tea!" It was Vinod.

I felt Dr. Anjali’s whole body go stiff. She rolled her eyes, annoyed. Paka diya! (He's so annoying!) she whispered.
She quickly, almost roughly, pushed me off her lap. I stumbled and almost fell.
Dr. Anjali: (Loudly) Haan Vinod, rakh do! (Yes Vinod, just leave it outside!)
She stood up, fixing her saree. She looked at me. I was just sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, my hair all messy from her shoulder. She started laughing.
Dr. Anjali: Look at you. Like a little (beggar) who just got a feast.
She winked.
Dr. Anjali: Okay, "dose" complete for today. Put your shirt on.
I scrambled to put my shirt on, my fingers clumsy.
Dr. Anjali: Day after tomorrow. Same time. And haan... I want to see some fat on you. I need something to pinch!
She playfully tried to pinch my waist, but I jumped back, my face on fire.
Dr. Anjali: Bhaag jao! (Run away!)
I grabbed the door handle, fumbled with the kundi, and ran out. I didn't look at Vinod. I just ran out onto Mall Road. I could still feel the warm circles her hand was rubbing on my back.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 4

It was not "every two days" anymore. It had become a nasha (addiction).
My life was now cut into two parts. The boring, pheeka (flavourless) part at home, where I just pushed food around my plate... and the secret, electric part of my "special check-ups" with my Anjali-mom.

It had been three weeks. I was bolder now. I didn't care about Vinod. I would just walk in, and he would just stare at me as I passed. I didn't care.
I went into the room. The kundi (latch) on the door clicked shut behind me. The sound was a familiar comfort.
But something was different. Dr. Anjali was not at her desk. She was standing next to the patient bed. And next to her was something new. A big, old, metal weighing scale. The kind wrestlers use.

She was smiling, her hands on her hips. She was in a dark blue saree, and her eyes were sparkling.
Dr. Anjali: Aao, mere pehelwan! (Come, my wrestler!)
She announced that today was the asli (real) test. Three weeks of her special "medicine." It was time to see if her beta was growing.
Dr. Anjali: Chalo, shirt... aur (and) pants, utaro (remove).
My breath stopped. P-Pants?
She just laughed, her voice firm but playful. Arey haan! (Oh, yes!) How else could she get my correct weight? Jeans were heavy. I shouldn't be (shy). She was, after all, my doctor-mom. Her voice was daring me.

Slowly, my hands shaking, I took off my shirt. Then, I unhooked my jeans and let them fall to the floor. I was just standing there... in my underwear. My face was burning hot.
She walked around me, slowly, inspecting me. Like a (hunter) inspecting her catch.
Hmmmm.
Her fingers tapped my stomach. "Still flat." They tapped my chest. "Still bony." Then, she walked behind me.
...Thwack!

A sharp, playful chamaat (slap) landed right on my bum. I yelped, jumping in shock.

Dr. Anjali: Bilkul haddi! (Purely bone!) Useless!
She was laughing at my surprise. Kya "doctor-ji"? Get on the scale. Chup-chaap (Quietly).
I quickly stepped onto the cold metal platform. I watched her move the iron weights. Clank. Clank. Her smile faded. She clicked her tongue. Tch tch tch.
Only one kilo in three weeks. She called me a bahut nalayak ladka (a very useless boy).

She sounded genuinely disappointed. And I felt a hot, sinking wave of... shame. I had failed her. I tried to mumble that I was eating, but she just sighed. My mother's food wasn't working. She would have to do everything.
She made me sit on the bed. I was still just in my underwear, feeling small and exposed. She went to her desk and took out a shining, steel dabba (tiffin box).

Dr. Anjali: Chalo. If you can't feed yourself, your Anjali-mom will feed you.
She opened it. Kaju Katli. My favourite.

Dr. Anjali: Muh kholo. (Open your mouth).
I blushed, "I can eat..."

Dr. Anjali: Chup! (Quiet!)
Her voice was sharp. I had my chance. Aaaah karo.
I couldn't say no. I slowly opened my mouth. She pushed the big piece of mithai (sweet) inside. It was so soft, melting in my mouth, full of ghee and sugar.

Dr. Anjali: (Softly) Good boy. Chabao. (Chew).
This, she whispered, was the asli medicine. This would put heat and charbi (fat) on me. She made me eat four whole pieces. I was feeling full, sleepy, my head swimming in the sweetness.

Dr. Anjali: Bas. (Enough). Now... for the final dose.
She smiled and pulled me up from the bed. She pushed me against the wall and pressed her entire body against mine. I was just in my underwear. I could feel everything. Her soft saree, her warm stomach, and her big, heavy breasts pressing hard into my bony chest.
Her voice was a thick whisper in my ear, her breath hot.

Dr. Anjali: Feel that, Shaan? First the mithai, then the heat. This is how my golu-molu will grow.
She rubbed her body against mine, slowly, up and down.

Dr. Anjali: You must become fat and naram (soft) for me. I need something to hold.
My head was spinning. The rich mithai and her overpowering garmi (heat)... it was too much. She finally pulled back, her eyes sparkling with victory.
Dr. Anjali: Okay. Dose complete.
She tapped my red-hot cheek.
Dr. Anjali: Get dressed. And next week... I want 2 kilos. Understood? Or the chamaat will be harder.
I just nodded, my whole body trembling. I fumbled to put on my jeans and shirt. I unlocked the kundi and stumbled out of the room. I didn't just feel "hot" anymore. I felt like I was on fire.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 5

That whole week, I was like (a bulking beast).

I ate everything. I ate my food, my mom's food. I stole ghee from the kitchen dabba (container) and ate it with sugar. I needed to gain those 2 kilos. I wasn't afraid of the chamaat (slap) anymore. I was terrified of her disappointed face. That sigh. I couldn't bear the thought of failing her again.
When the day came, I walked into the clinic, my stomach twisting. Vinod just rolled his eyes and pointed. He had stopped asking. He knew.
I went in. I locked the kundi. The click of the bolt felt so final.
She was standing right next to the big weighing scale. She looked like a judge. She was not smiling.

Dr. Anjali: (Her voice, low and serious) Chalo. (Come on). I am waiting.
Her serious look made my heart beat faster than her playful one ever did.

Dr. Anjali: Sab utaro. (Remove everything). And no excuses today.
I didn't argue. I took off my shirt. I unzipped my jeans and let them fall. I stood there in my underwear, feeling small and exposed, waiting for her judgment.

Dr. Anjali: Aao. (Come).
I stepped onto the cold scale. I was praying, my eyes squeezed shut. She leaned in close, her face near my stomach as she adjusted the heavy iron weights. Clank. Clank. And then... she sighed. A big, long sigh of disappointment.
My heart sank into my shoes.

Dr. Anjali: (Standing up, shaking her head) Nahi, Shaan. (No, Shaan).
My voice was weak. "Kitna? (How much?)"

Dr. Anjali: (Sounding tired) One. Point. Five. Bas. (That's it).
I hung my head. I failed. I felt useless. "Sorry, doctor-ji..."

Dr. Anjali: Tch.
She poked my chest. "Haddi." (Bone). She poked my stomach. "Patla." (Thin). She walked behind me. I closed my eyes, bracing for the chamaat. I deserved it. ...I waited. ...Nothing.
Instead, I felt... fingers. Her fingers, gently pinching my waist.

Dr. Anjali: (Her voice, a very soft whisper, right next to my ear) Lekin... (But...)
Her fingers had found a tiny, tiny roll of flesh. It was almost nothing. But it was there.

Dr. Anjali: Yeh kya hai? (What is this?)
She pinched it again, lightly, rolling the new charbi (fat) between her thumb and forefinger.

Dr. Anjali: Hmm? A little charbi... hiding here?
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. She came and stood in front of me. Her face was soft again. That naughty, playful smile was back.

Dr. Anjali: You failed the 2-kilo test. But you passed the charbi test. Chalo, (Okay) half-marks.
She reached up and pulled my cheek, hard.

Dr. Anjali: Naughty boy. Making me work so hard. She pulled me off the scale.

Dr. Anjali: You failed my order. So, you must get a saza (punishment).
My eyes went wide. 

Dr. Anjali: Stand. Turn around. Ghoom jao. (Turn around).
My heart was thumping. I turned, my back to her. What was she going to do? I heard her walk to her cabinet. I heard a bottle open. The sweet smell of badam (almond) oil. She came back.

Dr.Anjali: This time, a new medicine. To make the charbi grow faster.
Before I could ask, she slapped her cold, wet hands right onto my bum.
"Aai!"
It wasn't a chamaat. Her hands were covered in cold, slippery cream!

Dr. Anjali: (Laughing) Chup-chaap khade raho! (Stand still quietly!)
She started rubbing the cold cream all over my bum, her hands moving inside my underwear. Her hands were firm, moving in fast circles. A malish! (Massage!)
I was frozen. I was standing in her clinic, in my underwear, and she was... massaging me. It was so cold... and then, under her rubbing hands, it started to feel hot. A deep, spreading warmth.

Dr. Anjali: (Her voice turning thick and husky) Hmm. So smooth. But so bony. We need meat here, Shaan.
She squeezed me, hard.

Dr. Anjali: Bas. (Enough).
She smacked my bum one last time, leaving a wet, stinging, slapping sound.

Dr. Anjali: That is your saza.
I turned around, my face on fire, my legs trembling.

Dr. Anjali: (Wiping her hands on a towel) Now... for the inaam (reward).
She went to her steel dabba (tiffin box). The Kaju Katli. She took out... one piece. Only one.

Dr. Anjali: You got half-marks. You get half the reward. Muh kholo. (Open your mouth).
I opened my mouth. She fed me the mithai. It melted on my tongue.

Dr. Anjali: (Her eyes sparkling) You want the whole box, Shaan? You want the real medicine?
I nodded, swallowing the sweet, sticky lump.

Dr. Anjali: Then next week... three kilos. No excuses. Samjhe? (Understand?)
I just nodded, my voice gone.

Dr. Anjali: Bhaag jao (run away). And don't wipe that cream off. Let it soak.
I scrambled to pull on my jeans. The cold cream felt weird and slippery. I ran out of the clinic, my mind spinning. My bum was tingling, cold and hot all at the same time.

The saza (punishment) felt more like an inaam (reward) than the mithai did.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 6

The demand for three kilos was a mountain, but my mind wasn't on the kilos. It was on the "reward." And even more, on the "punishment."
All week, I kept replaying the feeling of her hands, the cold malish (massage), the final, stinging smack. The saza (punishment) had felt sharper, more real than the inaam (reward). I was getting addicted. I was a bhukkad (bulking beast) again, eating not just to gain weight, but to earn my next saza. My whole body was aching, waiting for it.

When the day came, I walked into the clinic in a daze. Vinod just grunted. I went straight to her room. Click. The sound of the kundi (latch) was a familiar, comforting sound now, sealing me in.

She was not standing by the scale. She was sitting at her desk, leaned back in her chair. And she was wearing something new. A saree, yes, but the blouse...

It was a beautiful green colour, but it was cut very, very low at the front. As she leaned back, I could see the deep, dark curve where her breasts began. So much soft, white skin. My breath just... stopped. I felt a hot blush creep up my neck. I couldn't look away.
She smiled, a lazy, slow smile. She knew. She knew I was staring. She called me her little shaitaan (devil).
I blushed and looked away, feeling caught. Her voice, deep and slow, told me it was time for the test.
I quickly stripped down to my underwear. My hands were clumsy. My eyes kept flickering back to her blouse. I felt nervous, like I was doing something wrong just by looking.

I stepped on the scale, my heart pounding like a dhol (drum). She stood up slowly, her saree rustling, and came to stand very close to me to adjust the weights. My gaze was fixed on her blouse again. I couldn't help it.

I felt her warm breath on my ear. Kahan dekh raha hai? (Where are you looking?)
I jumped. My eyes snapped up to her face. My whole head felt like it was on fire. I was mortified. But she was looking at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She was laughing at me, softly. Naughty boy. My eyes were very fast. She leaned in again, her lips brushing my ear, sending a shiver through me. You will look at ME. Not my clothes. Samjha? (Understood?)

I just nodded, my face burning. She moved the weights. Clank. Clank. Her smile faded. She frowned. She sighed. Shaan...
My stomach dropped. I failed. A wave of coldness and shame washed over me. Two point five. Not three.
I tried to protest... Lekin! (But!) I ate everything! She just shook her head, looking genuinely disappointed. It wasn't enough. She said I needed more... personal attention. That my body wasn't taking the food properly.

She sat on the patient bed and patted the space next to her. Come. Sit. I sat down, my head hanging. My underwear felt too thin. I felt useless.

Dr. Anjali: (Her voice, soft and firm) Look at me, Shaan.
I slowly looked up. Her eyes were intense. And her blouse... the way she was sitting, it seemed even more open.
She said my body needed heat. Lots of it. The kaju katli and the badam cream were good, but they were not the real medicine. She reached out and put her hand flat on my bare chest. My skin sizzled where she touched.

Dr. Anjali: You are still so (cold). My poor Shaan.
She started rubbing my chest, slowly, with her palm. Her eyes were locked on mine.

Dr. Anjali: We need to warm you up from the inside. From here.
Her hand moved lower, over my stomach, her fingers gently pressing in circles. Her touch was so soft, but it was setting my whole body on fire. I couldn't breathe properly.

Dr. Anjali: I think... my special patient needs the full dose today.
She pulled me closer, gently. Come here. She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into her. This was not a quick hug. My face was pressed hard against her low-cut blouse. I wasn't just touching fabric. I could feel the warm, yielding skin of her breasts. They were big, pressing against my chest and face, so soft and full. I felt like I was being swallowed. I was drowning in her, in her warmth, in her mogra smell.

Dr. Anjali: (Whispering, her voice muffled against my hair) Ssshh. Just feel the garmi, Shaan. My garmi.
She held me there, swaying slightly. And then... my body, my shaitaan body, did something I couldn't control. I was suddenly hard, pressing against her soft stomach. I froze. I was so embarrassed, so terrified.
She must have felt it. She pulled back a little, just enough for me to breathe, but her arms were still around me. Her eyes were looking right into mine, dark and intense.

Dr. Anjali: (Her voice, a low purr) Oh-ho. My shaitaan is getting excited, han? Is this the garmi?
I just stared, unable to speak, my face redder than a chili. She leaned in, and her lips brushed my ear.

Dr. AnAnjali: (Whispering) Next week, I want to see you fat and naram (soft) from everywhere.
She let me go, gently pushing me back.

Dr. Anjali: Chalo. Get dressed, my golu-molu. My real next patient will be here soon.
I quickly pulled on my clothes, my hands shaking so badly I could barely zip my jeans. As I reached the door, she called out.

Dr. Anjali: Shaan.
I turned. She was sitting at her desk again, watching me.

Dr. Anjali: Don't forget. This is our secret. You are my special patient. And I am your Anjali-mom.
She winked. A slow, knowing wink.

I just nodded, my mouth dry. I unlocked the door and left. The loneliness was not just gone. It was replaced by an electric, buzzing feeling, a secret fire that was growing hotter and hotter with every visit.

[White Walker]

Update please

[ashuezy2]

Scene 7

That night, and the next, and the next, I did not sleep.
I just kept seeing her low-cut blouse. I kept feeling her warm breath on my ear. Her whisper: "...naram (soft) from everywhere."

I was eating like a rakshas (demon), but my heart was not in the kilos anymore. I was terrified... and I was desperate to go back. I was like a nashedi (addict), my whole body aching, just waiting for my next "dose."

When the day finally came, I walked to her clinic in a daze. My legs felt weak. Vinod bhaiya didn't even look up. He just waved his hand towards her room.
I went in. Click. The kundi (latch) slid home.

She was standing by the window, looking at the Naini lake. She turned, and my stomach flipped. She was wearing a simple, white saree. She looked... pure. But her eyes... her eyes were not pure. They were sparkling with shaitani (mischief).

Dr. Anjali: (Softly) Aao, Shaan. (Come, Shaan).
She didn't move. She just watched me.

Dr. Anjali: Chalo. Let's see. Kapde utaro. (Remove your clothes).
I started. Shirt off. Jeans off. I stood there in my kachha (underwear), waiting. She just looked at me. She didn't move towards the scale. She just... watched.

Dr. Anjali: (Her voice, still soft) I said... kapde utaro. Sab. (Everything).
My blood ran cold. Then hot. My voice was a squeak. "Doctor-ji..."

Dr. Anjali: (Her eyes narrowed, playful but sharp) Kya? (What?) You are still hiding from your mom?
She clicked her tongue. Tch tch tch. Such a sharmeela (shy) boy. How would she do her full check-up? How would she know where the charbi (fat) was growing, and where it was not? She walked towards me, slow and graceful, like a sherni (lioness).

Dr. Anjali: Chalo. (Come on). No secrets between us. Utaro. (Remove it).
My hands were shaking. I couldn't look at her face. I looked at the floor. Slowly... I hooked my fingers into the elastic of my underwear... and I pushed it down. I kicked it away.
I was standing in front of her. Bilkul nanga. (Completely naked).
The room was so silent. I could hear my own heart, thump-thump-thump, like a tabla. She walked around me. Once. Slowly.

Dr. Anjali: (From behind me) Hmmmm.
I felt her finger... trace my spine. All the way down. Still... so bony. She came back in front of me. She was so close, I could smell the santoor soap on her skin.

Dr. Anjali: (Looking down) Arey waah. (Oh, wow).
I was hard. Stone hard. I couldn't stop it. I was so embarrassed, I wanted to die.

Dr. Anjali: (Laughing, a low, thick sound) Idhar (Here) there is bahut garmi (a lot of heat), han?
She reached out... and tapped me. Right on the tip. "Aah!" I jumped back.

Dr. Anjali: Shaant! (Calm!) Stand still!
She held my shoulder. This was good, she said. This meant her medicine was working. The garmi was finally coming. But... She pinched my stomach. ...not here. She pinched my side. ...and not here. She slapped my thigh. ...and bilkul (absolutely) not here.
I... I... I gained...

Dr. Anjali: Chup! (Quiet!) Don't tell me. Show me.
She pushed me towards the scale. I got on, nanga. She clanked the weights. I didn't care anymore.

Dr. Anjali: (Sighing) Three. Poore (Full) three kilos.
A rush of relief. I passed.

Dr. Anjali: Good boy.
She helped me step off the scale.

Dr. Anjali: You passed the test. So... you get the full reward today.
She walked to her cabinet. She didn't take out the mithai box. She took out the bottle of badam (almond) cream.

Dr. Anjali: Lie down. On the bed. Peth ke bal. (On your stomach).
My heart stopped. But... I passed...

Dr. Anjali: (Smiling) Haan, beta. (Yes, son). That's why you get the full reward. The full malish (massage).
I slowly lay down on the patient bed. The paper sheet crinkled under my naked body. I heard her unscrew the cap. I felt a big, cold blob of cream land on my back.

Dr. Anjali: (Her voice, low and deep) Ssshh. Just relax. Anjali-mom will make her beta strong.
Her hands landed on my back. And she began. It was not like before. Her hands were everywhere. On my back, my shoulders, down my sides... and then... lower. She put more cream. Her hands slid over my bum, rubbing, squeezing.

Dr. Anjali: (Whispering) We must make this naram (soft). Bahut naram.
Her hands moved down, to the back of my thighs. She rubbed them, hard. No meat here. Tch. I was dying. My face was pressed into the pillow. I had a raging hard-on, grinding into the bed. She knew. She laughed. A soft, naughty laugh.

Dr. Anjali: Bas. (Enough). Palto. (Turn over).
My eyes shot open. N-Nahi... (N-No...)

Dr. Anjali: (Firmly) Shaan. Palto. I have to check your chest, na?
Slowly, trembling, I turned over onto my back. I was lying there, nanga, hard, and helpless. She was just looking at me, a big smile on her face. Her eyes danced from my face... down to my chest... down to my hardness... and back to my face.

Dr. Anjali: Aaye haaye. (Oh my). Mera shaitaan. (My devil).
She poured the cold cream... right onto my chest. "Aai!"

Dr. Anjali: (Laughing) Chup!
She started rubbing the cream. On my bony chest. On my stomach, in circles. Lower... and lower... around my navel. Her fingers were just inches away.

Dr. Anjali: (Her voice, a purr) Dekho. (Look). My medicine is working so well here.
She was looking right at it. Bahut garmi. (So much heat). She held her creamy hand just above me. I could feel the coldness.

Dr. Anjali: Poora dose... (Full dose...)
She looked at my face. I was just staring at her, my breath caught. And then she winked.

Dr. Anjali: Let me touch you completely now.
Her hand, cold and slippery with cream, closed around me. I yelped, my whole body arching off the bed. It was too much. The cold cream, her hot hand... Shaant, Shaan. Ssshhh. Her voice was a thick, syrupy whisper. She said she had to give her shaitaan his reward. The real reward, for being such a good boy and gaining so much weight. This was the asli medicine. Her hand moved, slow and firm. I was lost, my eyes squeezed shut.
She laughed again, a low, throaty sound. Aaye haaye, kitni garmi. (Oh my, so much heat). She leaned down, her white saree brushing my leg.

Dr. Anjali: Your Anjali-mom must take all the medicine...
I felt her warm, mogra-scented hair on my stomach. And then... her mouth. Hot, wet, and unbelievable. My whole world just... exploded. It wasn't a massage. It was... I don't know what it was. It was a fire. It was lightning. I was just a haddi (bone) for her to chew on. She was... eating me. Like I ate the kaju katli. She was mumbling, "Good boy... my sweet beta... such a good boy for your mom..." I was gripping the paper on the bed, my knuckles white. It was too much. I couldn't... I burst. A hot, embarrassing rush. I was frozen, panting, my eyes wide. She slowly... slowly... sat up. She wasn't smiling. Her face was flushed, her eyes dark. She licked her lips.

Dr. Anjali: Bahut... meetha. (Very... sweet).
She stood up and threw the towel on me.

Dr. Anjali: Bas. (Enough). Poch lo. (Wipe yourself). And get dressed.
She went to her desk, took out the mithai dabba (box), and opened it.

Dr. Anjali: You were a very good boy. Poore three kilos.
She held out the whole box to me.

Dr. Anjali: Khao. (Eat). You earned it.
I was still sitting on the bed, nanga, trying to wipe the cream off my body, my hands shaking. My legs felt like water. She just laughed.

Dr. Anjali: Jaldi karo. (Hurry up). My real patients are waiting.

I scrambled to get dressed. I ate one Kaju Katli so fast, I almost choked. I ran out of that room, my body burning and freezing all at the same time. My mind was completely blank, but I could still feel her mouth. I could still taste the mithai. I didn't know which one was the real reward anymore.