“PERCHANCE TO DREAM – BOOK ONE”

She was a doctor so he could trust her… Right?

By

B. J. Frazier

Copyright 2020. All rights reserved

Published by B.J. Frazier at Smashwords

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This book is a work of fiction

Adult Reading Material

Table of Contents

Author’s Note

Perchance to Dream

About B.J. Frazier

Books by B.J. Frazier

Connect with B.J. Frazier

Author’s Note

This book contains erotic fiction with graphic sex and is intended for mature readers only.

My sincere and devoted thanks go to Thomas Antonson for his editing acumen and his uncanny ability to understand which word I really meant to use.

Please visit my website: bjfrazier.com

I know there are a lot of books for sale, and I thank you for choosing mine.

Happy reading,

~B.J.

Severe Content Warning: B.J. Frazier books contain *plots* and *well-developed characters*

Enjoy!

“Perchance to Dream – Book One”

“The tests are inconclusive, so my staff will schedule you for a sleep apnea test,” Dr. Francesca Doram said stoically.

“Th-that sounds serious. Should I be worried?” Braden Spath asked, trying to sound unaffected.

Dr. Doram--Frankie to a select few--looked at him and hesitated. She savored that question because there were so many unknowns. Obviously, she wouldn’t have the answers until after the test. But the test would reveal far more than what had been discussed.

“I don’t like speculating before the test results are in, but I don’t really see anything to be overly concerned about at this point.”

Braden nodded, consumed with the worst possible scenario.

“You’ll get all kinds of materials to read and some checklists, but I like to let patients know that the clinic only gives these tests twice a week, and we have a waiting list. It may be up to a month before we can get you in, so you need to be patient.”

“Oh, sure. But going back to the other, if the test revealed some kind of abnormality of some kind,” he nervously repeated, “I mean, you know, worst case scenario, should I be bracing myself or preparing myself for something specific?”

Frankie never tired of the moment when patients inquired about the possible outcomes without understanding how prescient the question really was. Inwardly, she reveled in the irony while she maintained her professional demeanor.

* * * *

Braden Spath was a forty-something married man with a host of medical problems. His wife Wendy had complained of his snoring and demanded he talk to his doctor. Until a solution could be found, she had kicked him out of their marriage bed and relegated him to the guest bedroom.

His primary care physician didn’t think there was anything to the claim, and was aware of his patient’s tendency toward hypochondria. Still, a referral provided extra, unearned income, so he provided Braden with a referral to Dr. Doram. The doctor told Braden that if he still felt symptomatic in a few days, he should contact the clinic.

Fearing his wife’s further displeasure, Braden told Wendy that his doctor not only gave him a referral but would be setting up an appointment. Then, he secretly researched and made an appointment with Dr. Doram.

His consultation had been quick but the sleep study had taken several months to schedule.

Online, the clinic only referred to Dr. Doram, which, Braden thought, sounded like a stodgy old man. Braden didn’t care what the doctor looked like, though, since his primary goal was fixing the problem.

He was shocked and instantly aroused when Frankie entered the exam room.

She didn’t look like any other doctor he knew. Frankie was tall, had long, straight, dark hair with bangs, and she wore black, high-heeled pumps. She wore black-rimmed glasses which gave off a brainiac vibe. Her form-fitting, white doctor’s coat accentuated her curves, and the buttons were open at the chest, leaving little to the imagination.

Braden was perched on the end of the exam table in nothing but boxers, and he pinched his thighs together to hide his erection.

Frankie placed her hand on his knee, displaying long, black fingernails. “Mr. Spath, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about here.”

Her words and touch had the exact opposite effect on Braden, who instantly reddened.

Frankie let her hand linger on Braden’s knee as she sat on the stool between his legs. The position placed her boobs within inches of his cock, and he twitched.

“Trust me, I’ve done this many times before and have seen all kinds of interesting things.” She smiled up at him with a twinkle in her eye.

Braden wasn’t sure whether she meant something more or just wanted to make him feel comfortable, but he was horny. His numerous health issues rendered sex with Wendy practically non-existent. He was a frequent masturbator, however, with help from all of the accessible, free porn.

Frankie didn’t require a response from Braden. In fact, she was used to first-time appointments with middle-aged men. Most of them were shy, most of them didn’t answer, and all of them got hard-ons.

For patients who remained flaccid, a secret test was performed with a male physician’s assistant. The patients who maintained their flaccid state were treated as actual patients and referred to real sleep doctors.

Frankie glanced at Braden’s chart. “I see you’ve undergone extensive testing already; however, in order to be a patient here, we need to do our own testing. Some of it may seem redundant, but we do it to ensure the integrity of the results. Nothing against your other doctors, but I have to rule out any possibility of error. Do you understand that, Mr. Spath?”

“Yeah, but you can call me Braden.”

Frankie ignored him and walked to the door. “Sayo, we’re ready for you,” she called into the hallway.

Sayo Li was Dr. Doram’s assistant. She was a petite, Asian woman, who wheeled in a cart. In addition to black scrubs, she had a thin, leather collar around her neck, which was often mistaken for a choker instead of a slave marking.

Seeing both of them in the doorway made Braden’s dick pulse.

Sayo was trained not to react to such things. Instead, she brought the cart to Braden’s right side and prepared for a blood draw. Dr. Doram took a position on his left side. The invasion of Braden’s personal space by the two women was deliberate.

Braden tried to concentrate on the needles and vials in an effort to prevent future attention-getting movements from his dick.

It didn’t work.

“This is my nurse practitioner, Sayo Li, Mr. Spath. She’s invaluable to me in many ways, and you’ll see her when you return at night for the sleep tests.”

Braden wondered whether the name, pronounced Say-ow, meant that she would make him say “ow”. He inwardly chuckled when she brought out the needle. Along the same vein, he couldn’t be sure if the doctor had actually emphasized her words and, if she had, whether she meant them to have a sexual undertone. Either way, Braden was in no condition to perform heavy analysis.

In fact, Frankie had purposefully accented her words in a sexual manner.

“She’s drawing blood so we can do more in-depth testing and to confirm previous results. We should have the tests back in a few days, and someone from the office will call you to schedule your sleep test. You know the test is performed at night, right?”

The question was Sayo’s cue to drop a vial in Braden’s lap. While retrieving it, she clumsily brushed his dick. She kept a steady grip on the needle, bracing for his jump.

It was done on purpose to gauge his reactions. Braden reddened and muffled a cry, couched in embarrassment and submission.

“I--I--I so solly,” Sayo purposefully spoke with stereotypical broken English, which was used to further test submission.

Dominant men twitched at the speech. Braden, however, did not.

Sayo and Frankie exchanged a surreptitious glance and smiled.

Regaining his attention, Frankie put her arm on Braden’s. “Mr. Spath?” She waited for him to look at her. “You do realize that the subsequent testing will be done at night, right?”

“Um, well, I guess I didn’t really give it much thought. But I guess if it’s a sleep test, then the best time for that would be at night,” he laughed nervously.

The last thing on his mind was a sleep test.

“That is why we do it at night,” Frankie squeezed his arm. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

“I guess not.”

“I mean with your wife? Your chart indicates you’re married.”

“Oh, no. I mean, she’s the one who’s makin’ me take the test, so I guess she can’t really complain,” he laughed nervously again.

“Because the tests are at night and I also see patients during the day, the sleep tests are only given twice a week, on Sunday and Thursday nights. Can you accommodate one of those nights with your schedule?”

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