Doctor's Orders (BDSM / Medical Play) (10 page)

Nurse Valerie came closer and took my hand. She led me away, presumably so the men could discuss business. But with each step, I couldn’t help but think of
what would be in store for me.

Right before we got to the door, Doctor Brent told us to stop. Instantly, Nurse Valerie kept me from leaving the room as his voice boomed out, “Don’t worry, Melanie. You’re not for sale. But you might be getting some playmates sooner rather than later.”

Doctor Adrian Brent

It wasn’t hard, getting her to sign the final contract. It was pretty funny though. When we first dated, I was impressed by Melanie’s determination and her strength of character. She was smart and strong and very sexy. Of course, a lot of that was just a ploy for her to get access to my money.

Well, since then, she’s learned her lesson. It was made especially clear when I had her brought from her room. Nurse Valerie and Tony brought my former wife back to my office. “
Melanie, who owns you?”

We had worked on her training for weeks. A combination of spanking, pain, pleasure, orgasm denial, sex and humiliation comprised her prescription. This girl learned to obey any order given from me or my staff.

“You do, Doctor,” she told me, her head bowed. I walked around my desk and touched my fingers to her chin, nudging her face back up. Our eyes met, and I could see the furious defiance of a brilliant young woman who thought she was better than this. She was telling me what she thought I wanted to hear, which was exactly as I wanted her.

I wanted her to obey, but I never wanted to snuff out her will. She needed to know that she was trained. I wanted her to struggle, always aware that she would never win or free herself. Those chips were permanent. And little by little, I would embed other commands.
Before long, she wouldn’t know where her natural desires began and where my implanted commands ended.

“I want you on your knees.”

“Yes, Doctor,” she said without any trace of defiance or
resistance
. To Valerie and Tony, Melanie probably appeared completely tamed.
But I knew her better. I wasn’t going to shatter this girl. Rather, I wanted her completely aware of what was happening. As long as I kept her and played with her, I wanted her to remember exactly how far she had fallen.

Every time she sucked my cock, took her from behind, fingered her in public or made her masturbate in front of my friends, she would understand that she had misbehaved and deserved every degrading moment. She could try to fantasize about becoming a fully realized individual again, but she was a sexy toy.

My sexy toy.

And t
oday was the day for her to sign the contract.
Crouching before me, Melanie seemed docile, but her jaw was set. She was wondering what I was going to have her do. I dismissed my employees. Once the door closed behind them, I pulled out my cock.

Without a word of instruction, Melanie opened her mouth. I slid my penis between her pink lips and she started to suck and pleasure me. Only then did I start to explain what I had. “This is your contract. Once you sign it, you’ll
belong to me, legally. Although slavery is technically illegal, I will have your power of attorney, and you will be remanded into my custody.” She didn’t whimper, and she didn’t make a sound, yet I could tell she wanted to.
Melanie’s training kept her behavior in check.

Melanie kept sucking on my cock. I let her lick and flick her tongue along the length of my shaft. As she demeaned herself for my pleasure, I started to read her the contract. After all, I told her I didn’t want my slave to sign something without really understanding it.

Line by line, I could tell that she was listening. She heard every word. She would be signing over her property rights. She would be surrendering her right to vote. Once she put her name on these documents, Melanie would become my slave. I’d be so much more than her doctor. I’d become her Master.

I came to final line of legal text and grabbed her hair again. I rocked her face back and forth, thrusting deeper into her mouth until I started to come. She groaned as she started to swallow my semen. Really, Melanie should have been used to the taste of my seed, yet somehow she kept thinking it might stop.

It wouldn’t.

And when I was done I held the contract
out to her and ordered her t
o read it again. She complied and I handed her the pen when she finished. Turning her eyes back to me,
she licked her lips and wrote down her name on the specified line.

“I’m your slave, Doctor Brent.”

I patted her on the head and called my subordinates back into the room. There was still so much training and fun to be had with my wife, my patient, my slave.

The End

(Want more? Check out
Now His Milk Cow
, also by Ashley K. Bennet)

Ashley K. Bennet

Clara didn’t know what to expect as the suburbs and city gave way to trees, sloping hills, and a lack of civilization. She clutched the steering wheel and tried not to think. Thinking led to a pounding heartbeat and hyperventilation. She couldn’t help it, not when Eric already had so much on her.

She might go to jail. The thought twisted her stomach and made her shiver with dread. When she spent time with her friends, she might like to joke about how she could be hardcore, bur really, she had been a cheerleader in high school, got good grades, and really had no idea what she was doing.

Nibbling on her lower lip, she refocused on the road. It had started out as a freeway but trickled down into this two-lane stretch of pavement cutting its way through God-knew-where. Out this far, she couldn’t even listen to the radio. Her only company was the polite, slightly British sounds of her GPS telling her when and where to turn.

If the universe had been kind, Clara would have driven on forever, never reaching her destination. Gripping the wheel, she glanced down at her knuckles and saw that they had turned white.

“Damn it,” she hissed at herself. “Relax. C’mon. Just do what he says. Two days.”

Two days.
Under normal circumstances, one weekend didn’t mean a whole lot. After all, Clara had gone through her whole life and forgotten most of her weekends. Only this one would be different.

Clara forced her hands to relax. Acting on habit, she reached down for the radio, only to remember that she was out of range. Even the radio evangelists had abandoned her. Apparently they weren’t interested in preaching to literal sheep.

After graduating from high school, Clara had started work at a small shipping company. She went from the mailroom clerk all the way up to logistics analyst. For the most part, she did really well until she made a mistake. Then she lied about it. Then she faked several important documents. For most people, lying at work just meant the chance of getting fired. Because their company worked with the military, it could mean prison time.

No one noticed her mistake or her forgeries, no one except Eric.

Swallowing back her fears, Clara stared ahead but found herself imagining his features anyway. She couldn’t help it. Whenever Clara or one of the other women spotted him in the office, they felt themselves sort of melt. He had a warm smile, sexy shoulders, and gorgeous brown hair. Although he wore suits and dress shirts, he looked like the kind of guy who worked out. And despite the attention he got from his female colleagues, he never came off as arrogant or conceded.

If Clara told herself the total truth, she had to admit that she used to have something of a crush on him.

Of course, that ended the second he found out about her maleficence. On some random day, he sauntered into her office with a folder. He tossed it onto her desk and ordered her to read the contents. One glance at the documents and Clara knew what she held and what he had figured out.

Pursing her lips, she peeked up at him and asked, “What are you going to do with this?”

“Ethically, I have two options. You can come to my farm this weekend and work off the debt and the damage you’ve done to this company. After discovering your error, I’ve been able to correct the problem, but it has cost me quite a bit of time and effort. I think you owe me, but if you disagree, I can go to the police. The decision is yours.” Oddly enough, he didn’t make it sound like a threat. Instead, he simply presented her with two choices. “I’ll expect your answer by the end of the day.” With that, he turned around and left Clara alone with her thoughts.

Work off the debt? At a farm? Clara didn’t know what he meant or what he expected. Ultimately, she went online and researched the penalties. She could go to prison for several years. Fear and shame clouded through her chest, making hard to think and even more difficult to breathe.

But finally, she made her choice. Clara went to his office, knocked on his door, and heard Eric’s gruff voice order her inside. He glanced up from his desk, and with one look, he seemed to possess her. There was something in his gaze that made her feel small and powerless, as though he could do anything he wished.

“I’ll do it.”

“Shut the door.”

Clara turned around and did as he said. Her face flushed because they were supposed to be equals. They both had the same boss, yet he spoke to her as though she were an underling. Clara couldn’t help but find his tone unsettling and demeaning. But it did something else as well. It triggered a sensation deep down at her core that she didn’t know how to name.

Eric stood up and approached her slowly even as he exuded nothing but confidence and control. “You messed up. Badly. Now for the sake of the company, I fixed it, but you owe me.” He came even closer and reached up, touching the tip of her chin. This was sexual harassment of every kind, but she couldn’t report him, not with the evidence he had already gathered against her.

Her mouth parted a quarter inch, and she got how she was supposed to speak, but she felt like prey before a predator. He held her gaze and blanked out her thoughts.

“I’ll email you directions to my country estate. If you come out, you will be giving me consent to use you as I will.” He leaned in and whispered, “I will take you, and I will make you mine. Your personal preferences and desires will be irrelevant because you will serve me. Do you understand?”

Clara nodded quickly, then tried to speak. Her voice came out as a scratched little squeak until she tried again, “Yes. Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” he said, letting his hand drift lower to her breasts. His knuckles grazed her neck, her collarbone, then and her breast. Her nipples both hardened. He glanced down, clearly noticed, and offered up a sardonic smirk. Clara practically shivered with humiliation. She kept waiting for some sense of anger or moral outrage to come. Instead, she couldn’t help but feel aroused.

True to his word, when Clara got back to her computer, she found an email waiting for her. It contained his address and a short message.
Prison or submission. The choice is yours.

An entire weekend doing whatever her colleague wanted. The thought terrified her in more ways than she expected. Of course, it didn't help that she didn't know exactly what he wanted from her. Clara wished she could have negotiated or asked some serious questions. Somehow, she understood this was not a discussion between equals.

Before discovering this evidence, Eric might have treated her as a coworker who deserved a modicum of respect. They might have said hello in the hallways or chatted politely about weekend plans in the break room. But now something had changed. He no longer had to wear that particular façade.

Shoving down her trepidation, Clara typed a quick response and promised she would be there by seven o'clock.

After work, Clara drove home and got together some clothes. When she got back into her car, programmed her GPS, and started the long drive.

"You have arrived at your destination," the GPS unit informed her politely. Through the twilight haze, Clara stared through her windshield. As much a she didn't like to admit it, Clara couldn't help but be impressed. Spread before her, there was a large farmhouse, though really it seemed more like a mansion. While the surrounding environs were more like wild rivers and woods, the grounds were well kept. To one side, there was a field of bright green grass. To the other, there were crops like corn and wheat.

"What have I gotten myself into?" Clara asked no one in particular.

Opening her car door, Clara wondered how she was supposed to approach this situation. She didn't have his number and couldn't call. Part of her wanted to simply flee even as she realized that wasn't the possibility. Where would she go? What would she do?

Before she could lose her nerve, the main doors opened and Eric strode outside. In his dark pants, dress shirt, and tie, he looked like a lord of corporate finance, someone used to wielding total authority. When his gaze fell on her, Clara couldn't help but feel nervous. This was a new side to him, one she couldn't entirely explain.

Rather than approach her car, he motioned for Clara to come to him. Reminding herself how little leverage she had, she took several steps.

"You're late," he told her. His eyes darkened, "I don't tolerate tardiness from my chattel. If you fail to follow my orders or if you decide that you can't handle this, you are free to leave at any time. However my previous statement stands and I will go to the police. Tell me understand.”