by Dani René
Tom looks up at him, but Dr. Nickelsen just smiles. “You’d be surprised what you’re capable of, Nina. You handled the one on the machine just fine, and Tom isn’t much bigger than that.”
“I’ll go slow,” Tom says, and the look on his face is different now. He looks hungry. Needy.
“Please, please don’t. I promise I don’t need a treatment! I’m fine! Mr. Cat isn’t even here anymore!” I keep babbling, watching Dr. Nickelsen instead of Tom because I can’t handle the sight of him lining up his thick shaft between my thighs.
“Go ahead, Tom. Remember, she likes a little pain, so even if you hurt her a bit, it’s only going to help her therapy along.”
“Yes, sir,” Tom answers, his voice lower, rougher, and I arch off the floor when his cock presses against my entrance, the fat head already struggling to stretch me. “Fuck, she’s so tight.”
“Ah, well, she’s probably still a little swollen from the machine. It can be a bit rough.”
“I can’t take it, Dr. Nickelsen! Please,” I beg, crying out as Tom groans and forces his hips forward, splitting me. He’s too thick, and even though I want to be good, I want to get better, I don’t think I can do this.
“Christ, I’m not going to last,” Tom mutters, leaning over me as he rocks forward, bracing his arms at my sides so he can thrust deeper. I whimper as each inch burns its way inside me. The sensation is impossible, too full, too much.
“She has to orgasm at least once for the treatment to be complete,” Dr. Nickelsen admonishes, and Tom clenches his jaw, eyes closed tight above me as he pulls back and drives forward again. Harder.
“Stop!” I shout, overwhelmed by the sudden pain of being stretched too fast, but he just repeats the movement, gaining another inch or two.
“You said you wanted this, Nina. Dr. Nickelsen told me you came when you thought about me delivering your treatment.” He grunts, sliding out of me slowly before slamming his hips in again. “You asked for this, you need this. You need your treatment, and so you’re going to take it.”
“Tom, please, it hurts!” I beg, and he pushes against me, growling as he rocks back and forth through the slick mess between my thighs.
“Almost, Nina. You’ve almost taken it all. It’ll feel good in a minute, just wait.”
“Let me help,” Dr. Nickelsen says, and he kneels down beside my head, shoving his handkerchief past my lips, pressing it into my mouth before he seals his hand over it. “There. Now, deliver her treatment, Tom.”
“Yes, sir,” Tom growls, and he hooks one of my legs behind the knee, spreading me wider before he pulls back and slams deep, forcing his last thick inch into my pussy. I cry out, muffled by Dr. Nickelsen’s hand, on the verge of tears as he starts to fuck me hard. Every thrust hurts because it’s too deep, he’s too big. I should have known. He’s big all over, at least a foot taller than me, and as he drives into me again and again, he grabs my other leg and bends me in half.
“Ah, the breeding press. Nice choice, Tom. That will definitely satisfy her hysteria.” Dr. Nickelsen smiles down at me, keeping my head pinned to the floor as I scream against the gag, but then he looks back between our bodies.
“You’re such a good girl, Nina,” Tom groans. “Just relax, it’s all in. Feel me moving inside you, focus on that.”
I want to enjoy this, I fantasized about this. About Tom on top of me in the showers, the cold tile against my back… but I didn’t imagine it would hurt. The wet slapping sounds echoing from between my thighs seems to disagree with the pain though. I’m soaking the soft padding underneath us, and even though every full drive brings a sharp ache, it’s not as bad as it was.
“It’s like the crop, Nina. You need to ride it, let the pain change. Let it make you feel buzzy.”
“Yeah, just accept it. Take it. Take all of me in.” Tom bends his head down, capturing my nipple in his mouth. Sucking it hard until I moan into the cloth, and then he bites and my hips buck into him, meeting him hard enough to make the pop of our skin coming together echo around the room.
“You need this, Nina. You always need this, you just have to let go.” Dr. Nickelsen reaches for my other breast, adding his own torment to the whirlwind of sensations taking over my body. When I moan, he rips the cloth out of my mouth, and I gasp for breath.
I can’t even think straight anymore, primal sounds leaving my lips every time Tom slams deep, and as the pleasure starts to build, I don’t even care about the lingering aches anymore. I just want to keep climbing. I want the golden tension in my muscles to keep growing.
“Fuck, Nina. I need you to come for me.” Tom leans down, forcing Dr. Nickelsen to release me as he licks his way up my neck. Nibbling, kissing, and it’s nothing like a treatment with Dr. Nickelsen, or one on the machine. Tom is touching me everywhere, grinding against me, his weight pinning me to the floor as he tastes my skin and growls.
Then he bites down on my shoulder and I cry out, clenching him inside me, so close to the edge that I almost tip over, but he stops. “Please, please, again!”
“You want me to bite you?” he asks, thrusting hard enough to move me across the floor.
“YES!” I scream, and he licks across my other shoulder, finding a new place, and when he bites down, my whole body jerks from the wave of tingles, the buzz firing down my spine to set off an orgasm that rips the air from my lungs. I can feel my body desperately clenching around him as he fucks me hard and fast.
“God, fuck, Nina!” he growls my name against my skin as he drives deep and holds, every twitching pulse of his cock as he spills his seed inside me feels like an aftershock. Bliss suffuses every cell of my body, pretty golden lights connecting my nerves and lighting me up from the inside out. Tom moans low and then he captures my mouth in a vibrant kiss. His tongue seeks mine and I let him, our sighs blending as he devours me. It’s better than I’d imagined.
Dr. Nickelsen never kisses me, not on the lips, and I’d forgotten how much I loved it.
The passion of it, the desperation of feeling another person’s moan against your lips.
“Well, it looks like you were able to handle your treatment after all, Nina,” Dr. Nickelsen says, and Tom breaks the kiss as we both look up at him.
“Yes, sir,” I answer, blushing as I remember how much I’d tried to fight my treatment. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more grateful, Tom.”
“It’s okay,” he replies, grinning as he pumps his hips against me. “You feel incredible.”
“Thanks.” I almost can’t get the word out, a little embarrassed that Dr. Nickelsen watched the whole time, but he is my doctor, so he has to be in charge of my treatment no matter who delivers it.
“I’m very proud of you, Nina, and I think this room is helping you, so we’ll have you stay in here for now. Tom has my approval to deliver treatment whenever it’s needed, especially now that he knows what the expectations are. And I’ll continue to work with you on incorporating pain into your treatments, okay?”
“I have to stay in here?” I ask, feeling a wave of sorrow crash over me, but he just smiles.
“It’s one of the nicest rooms, Nina, and while we’ll have to secure some of the things, and it doesn’t have a view, you’ll have access to your own TV, and you won’t be restrained at night.”
That does sound amazing, and I can’t help but grin as Tom slides out of me. Even losing his erection, he’s still huge, and I’m not sure how I fit him inside me. Although, the lingering ache between my thighs confirms that I did.
It was real.
This room is real.
“How do you feel about that?” he asks.
“I like that I won’t be restrained at night, but…”
“But?” Dr. Nickelsen urges me to continue.
“Does this mean I’m not allowed to go to the Rec Room anymore? Or outside?”
“If you want to go, you’ll need to be escorted, and there’s going to be times that I’m not available, so—”
“I can escort her,” Tom repl
ies, looking over at me as he pulls his scrubs back into place.
“Would you like that?” Dr. Nickelsen asks, and I nod.
“Yes, please! I haven’t been out in the gardens in forever.”
“Well, we’ll make sure you get the chance to do that. It’ll just have to be when no one else is using the garden,” Dr. Nickelsen clarifies, glancing at Tom as he stands up. “At least until we make more progress.”
“You mean until Mr. Cat is gone?” It’s a question, but I already know the answer, and the way that Dr. Nickelsen and Tom look at each other confirms it for me. “It’s okay, I understand. He’s too dangerous.”
“Yes, he’s not a good influence on you, Nina, but we’ll keep working on it together. I think with consistent therapy sessions that you will be able to develop new coping skills for recognizing what’s real and what’s only in your mind.”
“So… more than three times a week?” I can feel a tingle rush through my body at the idea of that, and even though I’m still sore between my legs I can feel my pussy clenching around the emptiness. Therapy always makes me needy.
“For now, we’ll try to treat your hysteria as frequently as we can. Having the therapy chair in here will be helpful with that, as I have other patients to support and Tom does have responsibilities around the Institute.” Dr. Nickelsen smiles, his eyes drifting over my thighs where I’m squeezing them together against the dull throbbing between my legs. “However, I cleared my schedule this afternoon to address what happened today, so if you feel another session will help—”
“Yes, sir! Please?” I try to sit up, pulling on the cuffs, and both Tom and Dr. Nickelsen chuckle.
“Okay, Nina. I think this time I’ll introduce you to nipple clamps.”
Nipple clamps?
I have an idea of what those are, but I’ve definitely never seen them. Dr. Nickelsen knows so much more than me, about my mind and the treatments that will help me, and I need to remember that. I have to trust him and do what he says so that someday Mr. Cat will go away.
Because if I can make Mr. Cat go away, I think I’ll be able to stop anything.
The walls breathing, the whispering voices, and any mean appliance that might show up after he’s gone. Yeah, I just have to do what Dr. Nickelsen says and someday I’ll be better.
Someday I might even be able to go home. To see my mom and have lemon bars and sweet tea again.
For a chance at that… I’ll do anything.
I won’t fight treatment anymore.
After all, like Dr. Nickelsen said, I always end up feeling better when he’s done.
THE END
About Jennifer Bene
Jennifer Bene is a USA Today bestselling author of dangerously sexy and deviously dark romance. From BDSM, to Suspense, Dark Romance, and Thrillers—she writes it all. Always delivering a twisty, spine-tingling journey with the promise of a happily-ever-after.
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You can find her online throughout social media with username @jbeneauthor and on her website: www.jenniferbene.com
Also by Jennifer Bene
The Thalia Series (Dark Romance)
Security Binds Her (Thalia Book 1)
Striking a Balance (Thalia Book 2)
Salvaged by Love (Thalia Book 3)
Tying the Knot (Thalia Book 4)
The Thalia Series: The Complete Collection
The Beth Series (Dark Romance)
Breaking Beth (Beth Book 1)
Damaged Doll (Beth Book 2)
Fragile Ties Series (Dark Romance)
Destruction (Fragile Ties Book 1)
Inheritance (Fragile Ties Book 2)
Redemption (Fragile Ties Book 3)
Dangerous Games Series (Dark Mafia Romance)
Early Sins (A Dangerous Games Prequel)
Lethal Sin (Dangerous Games Book 1)
Standalone Dark Romance
Imperfect Monster
Corrupt Desires
The Rite
Deviant Attraction: A Dark and Dirty Collection
Reign of Ruin
Mesmer
Jasmine
Crazy Broken Love
The Institute: A Dark Anthology
Standalone BDSM Ménage Romance
The Invitation
Reunited
Standalone Suspense / Horror
Burned: An Inferno World Novella
Appearances in the Black Light Series (BDSM Romance)
Black Light: Exposed (Black Light Series Book 2)
Black Light: Valentine Roulette (Black Light Series Book 3)
Black Light: Roulette Redux (Black Light Series Book 7)
Black Light: Celebrity Roulette (Black Light Series Book 12)
Black Light: Charmed (Black Light Series Book 15)
Black Light: Roulette War (Black Light Series Book 16)
Books Released As Cassandra Faye
Daughters of Eltera Series (Dark Fantasy Romance)
Fae (Daughters of Eltera Book 1)
Tara (Daughters of Eltera Book 2)
Standalone Dark Fantasy Romance
One Crazy Bite
Release Me
Murphy Wallace
Prologue
Brynn
Shit! FUCK! One moment I was getting fucked senseless by the guy that I met at the bar tonight. The next, I am on top of his lifeless body, loosening my grip on the rope around his neck. There is a broken bong laying in pieces by his head, and he is bleeding. Not again. This has happened before. Not me killing someone, I’ve never done that, but the rage blackout. It’s as if I just wake up and the last thing I remember is telling him to use the rope and strangle me as I came. He must have done or said something that set me off, but don’t know how we ended up here. All I can hear is yelling coming from the hallway and banging on the door. I don’t think I will be able to talk my way out of this one.
I’ve had some crazy sex before, most of which involved a danger of some kind; sex on the railing of a balcony high above the city below, sex on a railroad track with a train about a mile away, headed right for us. I’ve straddled a guy while he was driving. I’ve been choked near the point of unconsciousness; things like that.
I’ve gotten into some trouble with the law for indecent exposure, lewd acts in public, and exhibitionism, even reckless endangerment a time or two, but I’ve never killed anyone. Oh yeah, and there was that one time that I got in hot water for peeing behind a tree in the park, but that wasn’t for sexual gratification; I just really had to go. The cop that found me was a complete hornball, and I was able to get out of it in exchange for a blow job. I didn’t feel taken advantage of; the entire experience was a huge turn-on. His proclivities are similar to mine, and we always have an exciting time when we meet up.
I’m not a malicious person, but I need sex to be more than just sex. I need the danger and violence. The surge of adrenaline or the sting of pain mixed with the pleasure of an orgasm is the ultimate head rush. I know I have a problem; I am not afraid to admit it. But my needs far outway the consequences. I’ve never had a partner who wasn’t at least a little bit intrigued and willing. Mylo was willing. Until he wasn’t, I guess. That must have been when my other side came out to play. The mean one. The one who tears through me whenever I don’t get my way, especially when I am feeling sexually unsatisfied. That’s what happened here. It just went very wrong.
Right?
One Month Later
“Please rise,” the bailiff begins. “The Court of the Second Judicial Circuit, Criminal Division, is now in session, the Honorable Judge Scott Young presiding.”
I stand behind the defendant’s table with my head bowed slightly. My lawyer told me that I couldn’t appear unphased over what happened and I’m not, trust me. I feel absolutely terrible. It’s tough to convey how upset I am when I am this nervous, though. I need to do something to calm myself down, but
nothing that any sane person would do to comfort themselves is going to work on me. So, I’ll stand here, trying not to think about dick, even though that’s exactly what I need right now.
I’m Brynn Holliday, a fucked-up slut from the slums of Massachusetts. I don’t run on all four cylinders.
I’m sad? I find someone to fuck.
I’m nervous? I find someone to fuck.
I’m angry? I find someone to fuck.
That’s what got me into this mess in the first place. I’m an escort, and a very successful one, at that. I had a standing appointment with a bigshot from some tech company who canceled on me last minute. It wasn’t about the money; I have enough of that at my disposal. I was just horny as fuck! I honestly don’t remember what happened that night, but I know my fucked-up mind well enough to know that he likely had a change of heart last minute, and the crazy in me came out. I would give anything to take it back, but I don’t even remember doing it.
Morgan, my cellmate and willing prison bitch, ate me out like it was her last meal before I left the cell earlier this morning. But my anxiety over what my sentence will be has me buzzing to fuck someone, something, anything.
I wonder if my PD would take me in the bathroom for a quickie after this.
“You can be seated,” the bailiff instructs again.
“Bailiff, what is today’s case?” the Judge asks.
“Your honor, today’s case is the State of Massachusetts versus Ms. Brynn Holliday.”
The judge looks down at the case file on his bench for a few minutes before addressing the court.
“Would the defendant please rise?”
I stand up once again and look the Judge in the eye.
“Are you the defendant in this case?”
