It had been a couple of months since my mom and David had moved in together. That morning, I was supposed to go to school, but I didn’t feel well. I felt tired and uncomfortable, like I was coming down with something.

My mom worked early as usually and david´s boys were at their moms place, so David and I were the only ones at home. Since my mom always left early her and David had agreed that he would make sure I got up and made it to school on time, even though I was perfectly capable of getting myself ready and getting there on my own.

He woke me up when it was time to get out of bed, even though I could easily have woken up by myself. It was just one of the many things about him that I found irritating. He seemed to have an opinion about almost everything I did and always felt the need to involve himself.

It wasn’t anything new, either. A while back before they moved in together, my mom had told me to take a shower. I had taken a really quick one, but when David asked me about it afterward, he insisted that I hadn’t actually showered properly. He seemed convinced that I was lying just to get out of taking a shower.

It was frustrating. I was old enough to take care of those things myself, yet David seemed determined to make sure I did everything exactly the way he thought I should.

And this morning was no exception...

I was used to being fairly independent and having a lot of control over my own daily life, even when I was sick. My mom had always trusted me when I told her I wasn’t feeling well. She had never felt the need to question me or suspect that I was simply trying to skip school.

I suppose that was why it never even crossed my mind that David might question whether I was actually sick.

I had stayed in bed that morning when David came barging in - didn´t give a fuck about my privacy, obviously.

"Why aren´t you up yet?" he turned on the way too bright light in the ceiling. "You have to be at school in forty-five minutes. And you know very well you´re supposed to eat breakfast before you leave."

"I don´t feel well, so I´ve decided to stay home today," I pulled the blanket up to my chin and tried to keep the irritation out of my voice.

"I think you look fine to me." I stared at ham, totally caught off guard.

"I am not," I insisted. "I don´t feel well." He sighed as if I was a stubborn child.

"Okay then, tell me whats wrong. Do you have a fever?"

"Yeah, I think so, I have a sore throat and-"

"You think so?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. The ceiling light caught the top of his bald head, making it shine in a way that somehow irritated me even more. Of course he had to question everything I said, like he suddenly knew my body better than me.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” I muttered. “I don’t have a thermometer in my bed, do I?”

“Well, then I suppose we’d better take your temperature. Don´t you think?” I rolled my eyes and threw the blanket aside as I got out of bed to fetch the thermometer from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.

“No need to get up. You’re not feeling well, so just let me find it.” I was about to argue back, but he was already out the door and on his way downstairs to get the thermometer. I climbed back into bed as I heard his footsteps approaching again.

And there he stood... holding the children’s thermometer in one hand and the vaseline in the other, as if I were five years old. What the actual fuck?

“What is that?” I stared at it in disbelief.

“The thermometer.”

“I’m not using that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because it’s a children’s thermometer.” For the butt! I expected that he would return with the ear thermometer as my mom used when I was sick.

“So?”

“I’m not a child.” I held out my hand. “Give me the one for the ear.”

He just looked at me.

“The adult thermometer,” I insisted. “I want the adult one for the ear.”

“I think you’ll survive.”

“I’ve never even used that one,” I snapped. “Not even when I was a kid. So give me the other one.” He shook his head. "Please!"

"No. This one is more accurate." He opened the lid of the Vaseline jar and dipped the silver tip of the thermometer in there. I could feel my eyes burning.

"Mom has never made me use that stupud thing."

"Yeah, well she isn´t here to argue with you, so I guess we will have to do it this way." When I made no move to accept it, he continued in a gentler tone. “It’ll be over quickly, and then we can see if you have a fever or if you need to go to school.”

"I feel feverish. Isn´t that enough?"

“Of course you feel feverish. That’s a convenient thing to say when you don’t want to go to school. Now let’s see if you actually have a fever.”

“Fine, then give it to me and get out!” I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

He didn’t move. Instead, he held the thermometer firmly in his hand.

“No. I’m doing it.” I didn’t want him to take my temperature rectally. It was so humiliating.

“I can do it myself.”

“I’m sure you can.” His tone was anything but reassuring. “But I’m not leaving you alone with it.”

I stared at him. “Why?”

“Because I’d like an actual temperature reading.” His eyes flicked toward the lamp on the bedside table. “Not one you’ve warmed up under the lamp.”

"Come on now. Pull your pants down and lie down on the bed.”

"I don´t want to."

He sighed. "That´s not a thing."

“I’d rather have Mom do it.”

“I’m am done arguing. Pants off and lie down, and let’s get your temperature taken. End of discussion.” Slowly, I grabbed the waistband of my pajama pants and pulled them down to the middle of my thighs - my undies too. I turned and layed down on the bed with my bum in the air.

I had never had anything up there. I burried my face in the pillow and then I felt a hand on my butt parting my cheeks. Cold air touched my hole just before a finger buttered it up with a thick layer of vaseline. And then I felt him press the cold tip of the thermometer inside. Like a tiny piece of poop in reverse.

I felt him pull my cheeks a little further apart like he was stuying me back there.

"You look a little red around your anus. Do you wipe too hard with the toilet paper?" When I didn´t answer, he continued to comment on my private parts. "I think I should talk to your mom about getting you some creme for a red anus or get you checked out at your GP."

After a few seconds the thermometer started bibbing hysterically and he finally removed it.

"You do have a fever," he sounded all surprised. "Good thing we took your temperature."

"Yup super good. Now I would like to get back to bed." I started pulling my pants back up cause I was DONE with him controlling wheather I was sick or not.

"Not so fast," he said and pulled my pants back down.

"No, I am done. I have a fever, as I said."

"I want to give you a suppository, Emma."

"No thank you." I had already rolled onto my back. Physically tried to put an end to him wanting to put stuff up my butt.

"Emma, you have a fever. We need to give you a suppository to bring your temperature down a little.” He held me firmly and pulled my pants down again. I resisted, squirming as much as I could, but all it did was make him hold my legs up in the air like a baby in a diaper position. I could hear the sound of plastic as he pulled a suppository out of his pocket and began opening the packaging. I squeezed my legs and buttocks together as tightly as I could.

“Try to relax, Emma. I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’s important that you get the suppository.” When I didn´t relax I felt his finger digging in between my cheeks, forcing them apart and then the cold, slimy suppository followed up my butt.

"Do I need to follow up with my finger to make sure you don´t push it back out?"

"No," I replied immediately.

"Alright," he let go of my legs and I quickly crawled under the covers before he could get any more ideas. "Get some rest and lets hope you are ready for school tomorrow."