Notes and Warnings:
I had a few anonymous prompts after my last story, requesting more anal play, diapers (or nappies as they are called in the UK and elsewhere), doctoring through illness and more bondage. I will be catering to these requests and more with this story. I hope it is to your liking. Apologies if anything squicks somebody to much. It is somewhat of a sequel to the first story; "Dr Doctor Gives Miss Rose Tyler a Thorough Check-Up"—its not necessary to read that first, but could be helpful.
Rose is very poorly—firing out of both ends kind of sick . Rose is unable to fully consent to some treatment, due to her illness. But the Doctor will be taking good care of her though and making sure she's alright. The more kinky stuff comes after she's feeling better. She will also be taking care of him in the last chapter.
Squick factor, Illness, Whump, Diarrhea, Diapers/Nappies, Humiliation, Age-play, Vulnerability, Dub!Con, Medical Setting, Clinical Jargon, Stething, Needles, Bondage, Anal Play, Rectal Thermometer, Enema, Sex Toy, Anal Fingering, Anal Stretching, Bondage, Medical Kink, Dubious Medical Techniques, Masterbation, Role-play, Playing Doctor, Medical Fetish, Latex, Rubber Gloves, Dental Dam, Sex with Barriers, Oral Sex, Asphyxiation, BDSM, Domination, Submission, Spanking, Mention of Anal Speculum, Mention of Butt Plugs
Also; Fluff, Humour, Intimacy, After-care, Trust, Responsible Role-play, Multiple Orgasms
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Kind and helpful comments only. No nasty messages please.
Feel free to use this fic as inspiration for your own medical fetish-based fics.
She'd been having a bizarre dream. The dream started off reasonably close to Rose's everyday reality. The Doctor was missing and Rose had to find him. They had landed on some sort of desert planet. Or perhaps just a planet with a desert. Or maybe somewhere global warming had gone too far. Anyway, the whole surrounding area was desolate. The ground was dry, hard and cracked, with no moisture to its name. There was nothing to see for miles, yet she had somehow lost The Doctor and it was now her mission to find him. She called to him in vain. Her voice just carried in the hot wind. It was so hot. She could feel herself sweating. She was growing dizzy and nauseous with it. She wished The Doctor was here. Reality seemed to wobble, or was that just the heat waves? But then, in front of her, a cactus appeared. She could have sworn the plant hadn't been there a moment ago.
It was a very cartoonish cactus, Rose thought. Not that she had seen many cacti in real life, but this one looked just like you'd expect a cactus to look like; tall, prickly, green with a couple of arms. She half expected it to be wearing a sombrero and play some maracas, as it danced. Se made to walk around it, not caring to get prickled. As she did however, she felt it grab her. With its prickly arms, it grabbed around her waist. Screaming out, she made the mistake of staring directly up into the sun. The light burned her eyes, whiting out her vision, giving way only to seeing many different colours, sparking at her, like fireworks. She felt herself being dragged down to the ground, by the cactus monster. No, not to the ground, through it. The dry ground had cracked further and crumbled around Rose and her captor, as it continued pulling her to her doom. She kicked and screamed and cried out for the Doctor, but he was still nowhere to be found.
The cavern she was in was surprisingly no cooler than Rose had found it above ground. If anything she felt hotter, like she was in a sauna. More cactus monsters appeared and these ones were dancing. Around a pool of bubbling lava, the cacti swayed in time to the beat of a drum that played somewhere, but wasn't in Rose's field of vision. There was further distorted colours too and Rose felt increasingly sicker. She was sure that if the first cactus still hadn't her in its sharp grip, she would no longer be upright. It gripped her harder, around the stomach, squeezing the life out of her, causing intense and shocking pain. Its arms somehow stretched, like spaghetti noodles, lifting and carrying her to the edge of the lava pool. The drumbeat grew louder and faster. A heavy bass she could feel thump within her chest. She was being tilted down to the red lava that looked like quite a delicious hot chili, if she weren't about to be submerged in it. This wasn't happening. It was too unreal. She was not about to be drowned in lava chili by dancing cacti. And certainly not, when the Doctor was nowhere around to save her. She closed her eyes tightly and scrunched her entire face shut.
Searing pain came, but it wasn't the type she expected. She wasn't being boiled alive, despite feeling hot and wet. She opened her eyes, to find herself on her back, staring at the darkened ceiling of her room in the TARDIS and noticed she was tangled in her bed sheets. Had the Doctor saved her? Surely it had all been just a bizarre dream? Rose didn't have any time to think on that as intense nausea and cramps consumed her. She felt bloated and ready to explode. Knowing what would come next, she had to get to the bathroom.
Pushing the covers away, Rose tossed her legs over the edge and stood up, only to receive an increased sensation that the room was tipping. But she knew it wasn't the Doctor's driving skills to blame on this one. Suddenly, she gagged and made a puddle of foul smelling sick on the floor. Best get to the loo, before that happened again. Fighting to keep upright, she managed to stagger to her substantial sized en-suite. The light came on automatically, paining Rose's head considerably. She knelt in front of her loo in time to lift the lid and purge the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl. She cried and gagged , as pain ripped through her and vomit gushed from her so forcefully, she felt it shoot from her nose as well. This certainly wasn't a pretty sight, she knew and it was about to get uglier, as she realised she was about to begin firing from the other end. Turning to sit on the loo, Rose tugged her lacy knickers between her knees and lifted her silk nightie. Yelling, she purged from her rear end. She still had to throw up though and made a grab for the waste bin, holding it, so she could both vomit and shit. It seemed to go on forever and she didn't know if the consuming pain would ever end.
Her gags and cries must have carried down the corridor, Rose assumed, because there was a knock on her bedroom door.
"Rose, are you alright in there?" The Doctor's voice could be heard from behind her bedroom door. If Rose's stomach wasn't already in violent flips and cramps, it would have sunk below her knees. She tried to tell him not to come in, but all that came out was more vomit and violent retching. "Rose, I'm coming in, okay?"
The Doctor wore the set of striped pajamas he'd kept from Christmas and had been participating in the sleep cycle. It wasn't often he slept, at least compared to a human. Well, probably compared to a Time Lord as well—if there were any left, which there weren't. He was the last one, so it was not like their was anyone else to suitably compare to. He avoided sleep like the plague, especially since the Time War, because of the night terrors he suffered. Delaying tactics could only last so long and he did still need sleep from time to time. Not that he'd even got a chance to get into REM this night, before his ship had woken him, via their symbiotic connection. The TARDIS was programmed to alert if him if there was a passenger in danger. So, here he was, looking for Rose in her bedroom, because the TARDIS knew something was the matter with his pink and yellow companion.
The Doctor let himself into Rose's private quarters to find, with alarm, that her bed was empty. The covers had been drawn away, to reveal patches of sweat his companion had left in her wake. A sour smell rose to and lingered to his nostrils and his focus moved to the puddle of rejected food on the floor, red in colour. Sounds of pained retching led him to the en-suite. The door had been left wide open and it was plain to see Rose was having tummy trouble, as she sat throwing up into a waste bin, while sitting atop her personal thrown. Her face was a mess of sweat and tears. The scent that permeated the air was enough to tell him how unwell Rose currently was. "Its okay, Rose. I'm here," he spoke.
"Noooo!" Rose managed to whine, between spluttering gags, mortified that the Doctor was seeing her like this. His need to 'play doctor' should not extend to this! "Get out."
However, the Doctor didn't make a move to leave. Instead got closer to her, reaching a hand behind her, where her silk nightie clung to her skin, with the dampness of her sweat. He continued to rub soothing circles, that Rose found weren't at all unwelcome. Even through the fabric, his touch was cool.
He placed another hand on her slick forehead, pushing the blonde locks away that had darkened with wetness. He was feeling for her temperature and she knew it was high. She didn't waste any further energy to get him away. All her efforts on purging the waste from her body. She had no choice but to let him act on his concerns, as he reached to check her fluttering pulse. He counted out the light, racing beats.
"Rose, I'll be right back. You just hang tight," the Doctor said. As if she could do anything but? Although, with the way her dizziness intensified, she wondered how long she would be able to keep herself on the loo, before she passed out? Rose found herself afraid to be left alone. What if she choked on her own vomit? He didn't give her much time to worry however, as he soon returned.
He had something folded, white and bulky in his hand, a towel? Why then did he have to leave to get it? There were plenty of clean fluffy towels in her bathroom already. He knelt down in front of her, rubbing her back again. "How are you going there, Rose? Has your tummy taken a break yet?" he asked, gently, to which Rose nodded. It seemed she had been given a moment to catch her breath. "Good." He pushed her nightie up to examine her bloated belly and probed it with his hands. He knew it was painful for her, as she voiced her discomfort loudly and her breath was snatched from her again. "I want to try get you to the med bay. That's the best place for you to be right now, so I can take care of you. First though, I need you to put this on." He held up an adult sized nappy, of all things.
"I'm not wearing that," Rose protested.
"I need you to, for now," the Doctor insisted and lifted Rose's feet one by one, to get her knickers right off. "We don't need any more messes, before we get there, do we?"
Rose was too tired to fight with him. Her limbs felt heavy and her body seemed to sway in a fight to keep upright. The Doctor caught her by the shoulders. She began to cry harder, as he lifted her bum, and wiped it for her, then fitted the humiliating item between her legs and around her hips, taping it snugly. He leant her back against the cistern. "There, we won't have you leaking on me. Keep holding that bin, if you need to throw up some more. I'm just going to wash my hands and then I'll help you to the med bay."
The Doctor scrubbed his hands at the sink. Rose wasn't sure if she'd be able walk the corridor, even with the Doctor's assistance right now. However, he surprised her by scooping her up, in his arms, to carry her there instead. The sudden movement skewed Rose's equilibrium, glad for the bin in her arms, as she gagged into it. The dizziness did not abate though and spots appeared in her visions, her body going slack, as she passed out completely.
With Rose limp now against him, the Doctor quickened his pace, in order to get his pink and yellow companion to the med bay as soon as possible. It worried him immensely how unwell she seemed to have suddenly become. Various medical theories came to the forefront of his mind—some fairly harmless, some not so. He had to find out as soon as possible what was ailing her. She shouldn't have become sick so easily, especially so, because just by travelling in the TARDIS, she was granted a new, stronger, immunity among most ailments. For anything to get through that kind of protection, it surely had to be serious, unless his ship was malfunctioning too, which was just something else to worry about.
Once having arrived in the med bay, the Doctor put the waste bin aside and placed Rose down gently on the examination couch. He took his white coat off its peg, putting it on. It only took a moment, helped him to get into medical mode and would protect his favourite pajamas. The next thing he did was use an ear probe to check Rose's temperature. He had other equipment, but didn't trust his ship to be of use right now. In her unconsciousness, Rose wasn't able to complain.
The Doctor noted Rose's considerable fever. At least it wasn't ice bath level bad, just yet at least. Though, if it rose much higher? He had to get her temperature down. On his command, the TARDIS switched the med bay's fans on, in order to blast Rose with cool air. Grabbing some gel packs, the Doctor snapped them, to activate it cooling properties, before placing them not only to her forehead, but to her wrists, elbows, neck, ankles, groin, and behind her knees. It looked a bit strange, but these were her pulse points and she would cool down quicker that way. As the coldness reached her, Rose began to stir. Her lids lifted to reveal her brown eyes, glassy with fever.
The harsh light of the med bay, was enough to seemingly burn Rose's retinas and for her head to feel like a pickax had been taken to it. To add insult to injury, before she had even opened her eyes properly, the Doctor shone his pen light in them to test her the pupil reaction. He said something to her, but it sounded like it was from underwater and she couldn't make it out. She squinted away from his light and groaned, then gagged. The Doctor made sure he was ready with a disposable receptacle, to catch the vomit. He apologised and got the TARDIS to dim the room's lighting, to a level that was more comfortable for Rose, but enough so he could still see what he was doing. He threw away the used sick bowl and gave her clean one to hold.
He had to use his sonic screwdriver in order to access the cabinet containing the human medicine he wanted to give Rose. They were kept locked away, should anyone aboard the TARDIS ever try to accidentally poison him. He put on some latex gloves, before selecting the bottle he needed and tipping out the required pills. He couldn't risk even absorbing any of the drug into his skin. He poured some of water into a foam cup and dropped the pills into it. With a fizzing sound they dissolved. "I need you to try take this aspirin for me, please Rose."
At the mere mention of putting anything in her stomach, Rose hurled some more. There was nothing to come up anymore except bile and it still manged to come out her nose. Her stomach cramped painfully, trying to expel what was no longer there. The Doctor sighed. "Okay, Rose. I'm going to start you on an IV line."
"Hate needles," she choked out, rasping.
"I know, but you're dehydrated, with a high fever and you're clearly in pain. I need to find out what has made you this sick, so I'm going to need a vial of blood too. I should be able to give you an anti-emetic to calm the nausea and a muscle relaxant to ease the cramps. You need cold fluids with salts and other electrolytes to get you re-hydrated and calm your heart down. I'll give you something for the pain and your fever should come down again too."
"Pears!" Rose cried.
"Rose," the Doctor sighed, upon hearing Rose announce their safe-word. "Do you know what's happening right now?"
"We're in the med bay," Rose concluded.
"I'm afraid we're not indulging our kink right now, Rose. You are very sick. I need you to let me take care of you."
"I'm wearing a nappy?" she accused, questioningly and shifted uncomfortably.
"You've had some quite intense diarrhea," he informed her.
"No, no, no." Rose murmured and moved to try and get up, almost falling off the couch entirely. The Doctor was there to catch her and re-position her again. She was weakened and the Doctor was strong and able to hold her down. He considered that he may need to restrain her further, if the behaviour continued. He couldn't keep holding her, when he had tests and treatments to run.
It pained him that in her fevered mind, she assumed this was another of their role-play situations, but he was forcing it on her, when really he needed to be a proper doctor to her right now. There was nothing sexy about Rose really being dangerously ill. He didn't enjoy seeing Rose suffer, but he was happy to take care of her. It was one way he could show his love for her, while putting his medical experience to efficient use. He hoped, however, that this wouldn't spoil their role-play for the future. He doubted she would remember much of this, the state she was in. He would talk to her properly about that when she was feeling a bit better. For now, he needed to detach himself emotionally somewhat, in order to look after Rose. She wasn't of sound mind and unlikely to be fully submissive. It was going to be a struggle for him.