Page 3 of Trust No Alpha
I was allowed to keep the robe on for the first part of the exam.
I sat with my legs dangling, my bare feet swinging, feeling childish and disempowered. Doctor Poe checked my vitals, my eyes, ears and throat, and listened to my heart. He used metal tools which were cold against my skin and made me shiver. He took my blood into three separate vials.
I had controlled my apprehension in the hall, but in here I couldn’t keep my body from jerking at the doctor’s touches.
“Stay still.” Doctor Poe seemed to take pleasure from correcting me.
Sadist, I thought unkindly. Even as I shivered, a sweat broke out on my brow.
Nervous, I wouldn’t even look at Father who stood to one side, watching. He always watched. His sons were his precious treasures. He wanted to see them, make sure they were perfect, and he followed every step of every procedure the doctor put us through to satisfy himself.
I wanted Father’s support, but I didn’t like it right now. I felt too exposed. Too pressured. Too judged.
Now came the worst part.
“Stand and remove your robe,” said Poe.
I slid off the side of the bed and undid the plush belt, letting the robe fall open. The velvet slid like liquid from my shoulders, and though the air of Father’s study was warm, I felt as if I was encased in ice.
“Ah,” Poe said to my father, as if I wasn’t even there. “He is a perfect specimen. Fantastic muscle tone. Well-muscled flank. Excellent abdominals. I commend you on your care of this one.”
“Thank you. I make sure all my boys have proper nourishment and daily exercise.”
They could have been talking about farm animals the way they were carrying on.
The doctor ran a hand down my back. “His spine is straight and his back strong.” He came around my front, looking down. “His genitals are perfectly proportionate.”
Ugh.
Father’s gaze followed his every move. I had learned early in life I was to remain still during this part, emotionless. I was never to make a scene no matter how uncomfortable I felt.
“Spread your legs,” ordered Poe.
I could not look at Father as I obeyed. I knew what was coming next. The examination of my testicles.
Poe put his cool hand on them, lifting them a little. Massaging. It felt awful, and a dead spot began to take hold inside me and expand. It was the sensation I always had when seeing Doctor Poe.
“Excellent weight and size,” Poe told Father. “He will produce many Alpha sons, I am sure.”
My face heated.
Father said, “Yes, it is my hope. He is my most perfect son. I’ve not had one like him in a century.”
I should have flushed from pride. Instead, I stood and endured their judgment of me like a good boy. A prize Alpha.
It was good to know I was favored, but gods I hated this. Not just the touching, but the assessment of my body. I had no privacy.
I tried to think of it the same way I thought of my math, science or history tests. The conditioning of the mind felt less intrusive, though, than trying to pass a test on the conditioning of the body.
It wasn’t like they were asking me to lift weights or run a race. They were examining me: my skin, my outsides, my insides. And with touches that made me flinch. It would have been easier if they had merely tested my quickness and strength, all things I could practice to achieve. But the weight of my balls? That was something not under my own control.
I felt helpless. Embarrassed.
To make matters worse, they weren’t finished talking about medown there.
“His cock has a nice girth, too, as well as length. What a prime specimen to carry on the Vandergale name.”
I breathed in slowly and closed my eyes. I tried to think of the verses of an old nursery rhyme to calm me.
