by Loki Renard
The Doctor’s Captive
By
Loki Renard
Copyright © 2016 by Stormy Night Publications and Loki Renard
Copyright © 2016 by Stormy Night Publications and Loki Renard
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Renard, Loki
The Doctor’s Captive
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images by Shutterstock/Refat and Bigstock/uatp1
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
Chapter One
Katie was helpless.
Little beads of sweat rolled down the underside of her breasts. Her muscles were fatigued and she was physically exhausted, but her sexual organs were humming with excitement. Thick straps held her naked form to a medical exam table, thighs spread on two swiveling stirrups. Her breasts rose and fell as she breathed deep, ragged breaths, erect nipples clamped firmly by metal clasps.
“One more.” A deep, masculine voice growled the words from somewhere beyond the bright lights that lit up her trembling body. “She needs one more.”
A humming began between her thighs. Katie tried to look down, but couldn’t see what the source of the sound was. She felt it though, when the warm flared head of a mechanical phallus began to slide up and down her pussy lips, coating her labia and clitoris with gel. She could feel it being spread on, a substance that made her womanhood tingle from the top of her clit to the sensitive area around her anus.
It surged forward, sliding inside her pussy to the very hilt, filling her completely. An auxiliary probe deployed beneath the main phallus, a slightly smaller protrusion that made contact with the bud of her anus with a firm vibration. The clamps on her nipples began to pulse too, hard and then soft, sending jolts of erotic energy coursing through her body.
She tried her best to resist the waves of pleasure, but the unrelenting stimulation was making yet another climax build. She was too tired to resist, the muscles of her arms, legs and lower abdomen trembling as they contracted with each demanding pulse.
There were footsteps as her tormentor drew closer, and she was shadowed by a face she could not make out for the fact that the lights behind it were so very bright.
“Cum for me, Katie.”
The voice was still harsh and demanding, but she heard a faint cajoling note there too. The man at the controls of the instruments knew precisely what he was doing. He knew exactly how much her writhing body could take.
Katie strained at her bonds as the dildo began a slow thrusting inside her pussy. The man slid his hand over her tight abdomen and his fingers began to toy with her clit as the dildo’s pace increased, the thrusting harder, more demanding, just like the man who strummed the hard bud of her clitoris, forcing her toward yet another peak.
She let out a wail as it approached, a climax more powerful than any she could imagine, starting at the nexus of her clit, where his fingers made the final command, sending her into stratospheric ecstasy…
Katie sat bolt upright in bed. The sweat from the dream still claimed her, but the rest of it faded almost immediately back into the recesses of her mind. Why, then, could she still feel the memory of straps around her ankles, wrists, and waist? Why was her clit throbbing?
She looked around the drab hotel room, comforted by the sight of faded wallpaper peeling at the edges. This was no sexual pleasure chamber. There were no instruments of erotic torture here, just a big old television and a rickety bed covered by a comforter that smelled like mothballs. She was where she was supposed to be, on assignment in Oak Brook Falls, a very small town on the edge of a vast wilderness in which lurked all manner of beasts—including the man she had been chasing for five long years.
“Shower,” she mumbled to herself as she made her way to the bathroom. She needed to clean up and calm down. Today was not a day for indulging odd thoughts or wild fantasies. She had work to do.
She showered quickly and dressed in cargo pants and a sweater. Casual clothing that allowed her to carry a great deal of equipment and would ensure that she did not stand out in any way. Her guns were holstered at her hips, hidden by the long fall of her hooded sweater; her throwing knives were strapped to the small of her back. She had several other surprises lurking about her person too, all neatly snapped into place under the most casual of civilian clothing.
Finishing the illusion of normality, Katie tied her long dark hair back into a ponytail, put on a ball cap and a pair of sunglasses, becoming perfectly anonymous. Nobody would remember seeing her. Everything about her was calculated to be perfectly forgettable, from the generic sunglasses to the oversized fit of her hooded sweatshirt, which obscured the curves and lines of her body.
Before leaving the room, Katie gave the file stored on her phone one last look. Her target was known as ‘the Doctor,’ real name, Jason Blake. He was the worst kind of enemy agent—a rogue one turned independent, doing work for the highest bidder. A traitor to the country and a betrayer of everything Katie believed in.
Use Extreme Caution, the profile stated in bold red letters. Recommended: Terminate At Distance.
A drone would have been the most effective way of terminating at distance, but Katie’s overseers wanted eyes on the ground, visual and tissue confirmation of the kill. There could be no mistakes with this one. They had been hunting the Doctor for years to no avail. He was impeccable in his work, leaving no traces to follow, not even the slightest clue—until three days ago when he’d made a call on an unsecured network to a known contact. It had only lasted twenty seconds, but that had been enough. Just one slip in five years was all it took to bring the hammer down. Katie was that hammer. She took no great pleasure in her job, but she did it exceedingly well and she did it for the good of the nation.
She swiped down and looked at the picture of the Doctor again. She didn’t really need to. His face was emblazoned in her mind. She’d seen it almost every day since being assigned to the case. The picture in the file was from a surveillance run five years ago. The last time he’d been seen.
His hair was dark and short, his facial features hard. He had a square jaw, high cheekbones, and a roman nose, which gave more than a touch of arrogance to his expression when his upper lip was curled as it was in the picture. He had obviously been aware of the photographer, because his eyes were cut right at the lens, slivers of green against dark lashes.
Her reaction to his picture was visceral. She found her own lip curling in a snarl. This was going to be a very satisfying day for her. Nine agents had been lost trying to find this man. Nine people had given their lives in the quest to end his. Katie was absolutely determined that no more lives would be lost.
After checking out, she got into an old Jeep fitted with several unseen extras, and began the drive up into the hills. The Doctor had chosen his base with care. It was out of cell phone range, densely wooded to avoid satellite coverage, and far enough off the beaten track that getting to it by car was impossible. The only reason they even knew it was there was because they’d run stealth drones all over the area days after his call was picked up. Modern technology meant that there really was no place to run or hide once the clandestine government agency known only as Oversight had you on their radar.
As the road turned from asphalt to gravel and then eventually to dirt, Katie was forced to leave her car on the side of
the narrow trail and pack the rest of her gear on her back. The walk was estimated to take about five hours, all going well.
Five hours of walking was ample time to run over her plan several times. The easiest method of disposal would have been to perch in a tree and wait for the target to come into range, but that meant she would only have one shot and the Doctor was not a one-shot sort of problem. If she missed, he would vanish and she would be strongly censured. Katie was determined to make sure she took care of the problem thoroughly.
First she would scope out his cabin and determine his whereabouts. She’d have her rifle out in case he did happen to wander into range during that time, but that wasn’t her first plan of attack. Her first plan of attack was to wait until he was asleep, sneak into the cabin, and finish him without him ever waking up. It was the most humane of the methods at her disposal, and the safest for her.
Soon enough, she was at the spot indicated by the drones, and sure enough, there was a little cabin sitting innocuously in the middle of the woods. It was obviously hand-built and had a storybook kind of quality to it.
Katie hunkered down into the leaf litter and started her observation. Through binoculars that detected heat signatures, the cabin appeared to be entirely empty. She watched it for a good hour before deciding to make an entrance through the front door. Other agents might have chosen the window, but Katie knew the window was far more likely to be booby-trapped than the door. Only intruders made their way through windows.
She ran toward the cabin in a crouch, and upon reaching the front door, stayed back behind the wall as she tested the handle. It was not locked. It turned almost silently and the door swung open without a sound to reveal a very simply furnished interior. Stove. Table. Two wooden chairs. One armchair. A fireplace. A bed. No occupants.
She sidled in and shut the front door behind her, sweeping the room carefully as she made her way to the door in the rear. It opened to reveal a bathroom. Shower. Toilet. There was electricity in the place, provided by an exterior generator. All in all, it was fairly cozy.
Knowing her time was limited, Katie got to work. First things first, a camera. Once she had that in place she could sit half a mile away and monitor her target’s movements when he returned. That would let her know when to strike. She decided to put it underneath a chair, facing the bed. It was a good position for observing most of the room, and judging by the dust accumulated around the leg of the chair, it wasn’t often moved.
She crouched down and began the relatively quick process of installing the camera. She did not hear any sounds in the cabin. Certainly didn’t hear the door open, or the soft footsteps of the man approaching her. She did, however, feel the cold press of a blade against the back of her neck, poised with surgical perfection between the C4 and C5 vertebrae.
“Hello, Katie.” The voice was calm and congenial. There was no need for verbal threat when the blade at her neck did all the talking.
If he’d wanted to stab her, he could have done that at the outset. The knife was designed to make her freeze, but freezing was the worst thing she could have done. The second worst thing, actually. The worst thing she could have done, she’d already done—which was be caught by her prey. Katie kicked back hard, aiming for the kneecap. She made contact with thin air as the Doctor moved to avoid her kick, but her motion bought her around to face the most wanted man in the underworld.
There he was—Jason Blake, aka the Doctor—looking at her with a dark smirk on his handsome face. He looked just like his picture, albeit with a bit more rough stubble about his jawline. The eyes were always the best methods of identification, and his were locked on her with emerald intensity. It was him alright, though he was taller than she’d expected him to be. And wider too. Or maybe she was smaller than she thought she was. Either way, she had the uncomfortable sensation of being thoroughly dwarfed by the man.
“You’re late,” he drawled, his voice somehow unsettlingly familiar. She didn’t know how he knew her name, but she guessed he must have weaseled it out of some other agent, or one of his contacts. She had no intention of letting him know she was intimidated by him, or letting herself be distracted by his odd comments.
Deciding to shoot first and ask questions later, Katie drew her pistol. Before she had it out from under her sweater, he threw the knife with a hard flick of his fingers. It struck the hilt of her weapon and the pistol went spinning from her hand, leaving her with a pink graze on her middle finger. The casual, surgical precision with which he wielded his weapon was chilling, but Katie wasn’t done yet.
“Put your hands up,” he said, motioning with his own pistol drawn from the holster on his thigh.
Katie declined. “If you want to kill me, shoot me,” she said. “I’m not going to put my hands up for you.”
“Katie, Katie,” he tutted, sounding disappointed. “If I’d wanted to, I could have killed you six different ways by now. You’re getting sloppy, girl.”
Sloppy was not a word that had ever been used to describe Katie. It was like a barb in her soul, angering her instantly. Anger didn’t have any place in an assassination. Emotion was the enemy, but Katie couldn’t quite contain herself. She was afraid of him in a way she couldn’t explain. He was just another target, and yes, though she’d botched the job thus far, it wasn’t the first time things had gone wrong. She was trained to deal with unexpected resistance and surprises—and she had a few of her own, like the ten-inch retractable blade strapped to the inside of her wrist, hidden by the sleeve of her sweater. Things were about to get messy.
She put her hands behind her back as the Doctor approached, his gun trained on her. All it took was a quick manipulation of the release mechanism and she was in possession of what amounted to an arm-mounted sword. As he came into range, she side-stepped his gun and slashed the blade toward his throat.
A hot pink line flashed across his neck, followed by a trickle of hot red blood. He lurched backwards and for a brief moment, Katie was sure she’d gotten him. A split-second later, he bought his knee up, driving his foot into her solar plexus and sending her sprawling backwards onto her ass, breaking the blade as she landed. It clattered away from her and landed harmlessly underneath the old stove. He wiped his neck on his hand, revealing nothing more than a deep scratch.
“Turn over, put your hands behind your back, and surrender like a good girl,” he ordered, standing over her, his gun still drawn. “I don’t want to hurt you, Katie.”
“Sure you don’t,” she spat, kipping back up to her feet. “You’ve killed nine other agents.”
“You’re special,” he said, deadpan. “I’ve got other plans for you.”
She could well imagine what those plans would be. He was not called the Doctor just because he was a good shot. He was called the Doctor because he was capable of surgical precision in a number of ways, none of which she wanted to be on the receiving end.
“You’re a sick, sadistic son of a bitch, and I’ll die before I let you take me.”
He tilted his head to the side and nodded briefly. “That can probably be arranged.”
Katie didn’t give him a chance to make good on the threat. She was going to end him with her bare hands if she had to. She dashed forward, planning to use her speed to strike him at his throat, collapse his airway, and end his miserable life.
Her fist shot forward and her fingers extended sharply, but Jason blocked the blow and instead of making contact with his throat, her hand slid harmlessly over his shoulder. He took advantage of the moment to grab her arm and spin her around, facing away from him.
It took her less than a second to realize that she’d made a huge mistake. A grappling match was never going to go her way. Jason outweighed her, was much stronger and more skillful too. He had her in a submission hold before she could so much as touch him, arm wrapped around her neck, his fingers hard against a pressure point, which made her body slump to the floor as if she had suddenly become a ragdoll.
“Very sloppy,” he chastised her
, pulling her arms behind her back before she could recover. A zip-tie was quickly applied, the narrow plastic band a devastatingly effective shackle. Katie focused on keeping her breathing regular and not panicking. Yes, he had her. But she wasn’t dead yet, and where there was life, there was hope.
Cold steel against her lower back made her freeze in place as Jason ran a surgically sharp knife, blade side up, down her back and between the crevice of her cheeks, slicing through her panties and pants as if they were wisps of silk. In seconds she was completely naked from the waist down, her clothing lying on the floor as he hauled her up to her feet and pushed her over the back of an armchair.
His hands were all over her, running up her back, under her belly, around her arms and everywhere else. “Quite a few tricks you’ve got up your sleeve,” he noted, pulling the throwing knives out of their holsters and pulling hidden guns out of the crevices of her clothing. In seconds she was stripped of every weapon she had and left feeling much more naked for their loss.
The Doctor smoothed his hand over her bare bottom and patted her skin. “I’m going to enjoy this next part,” he growled menacingly.
Katie knew what was coming next and steeled herself for it. She heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled and the leather being slipped out of the loops. The sick son of a bitch was going to force himself on her before he put her out of her misery. Cold fury consumed Katie as she once again found the will to fight. She pulled her legs as close to the armchair as she could and tried to stand up. He grabbed her by the back of the neck and forced her back down none too gently.
“You coward!” She spat the words back at him. “You disgusting freak!”
He said nothing; he was too busy securing her in place by wrapping rope around her upper thighs and the chair back. She was unable to do more than squirm, she certainly couldn’t stand up or take her feet. Instead she was forced to dangle there, her bare bottom and pussy exposed to one of the most dangerous men in the world.
