by Francis Ashe
Dr. Blumfield moved so slowly that I was able to feel, to experience every single line and curve of the body moving against me, filling me up. All those emotions I felt when I was first with Walter – excitement, adventure, and just a little bit of naughtiness – all came flooding back. The surge of emotion washing over me and the immense physical pleasure the doctor caused, well, it did something to me. Flicked a switch.
Giving in, giving up control, and letting this tall, dark, beautiful man take me however he wanted made me feel, in a strange way, safe. I felt like I trusted myself entirely to him.
Trust.
Appreciation.
Those words rolled around in my head. The dizzying intensity seared my mind.
Dr. Blumfield stroked my face, then my neck, again. Deeper, harder he drove his hand against my sex.
“Good, Alex. Good,” he purred, “Do you feel me? Do you feel every single inch of my cock inside your throat? My fingers inside your pussy? Do you like how that feels?”
I groaned and flicked my tongue around the base of his cock, almost touching the heavy balls that were just out of reach. As slowly as he pushed inside, he slid out, but never once stopped the grinding, the slow rotating, inside my pussy.
The void he left in my throat ached. Physically it hurt, but also he left a space that reminded me of everything I’d been missing. More than anything, I wanted him back inside me. I wanted him close. I wanted...
“Alex?” His voice broke my train of thought. “Alex, it’s time to discuss terms.”
“Terms?” I sputtered, trying to concentrate as he finger-fucked me deeper and sweeter.
“Remember, quid pro quo. I do for you, you for me.”
“Yes – yes, Dr. Blumfield. Anything you want. Anything at all.”
“I had a feeling that’s what you’d say. It’s very simple.” He curled his fingers inside me for emphasis. Pushed the heel of his hand hard against me. “You belong to me. You do what I say, when I say. Clear?”
“I... but what about Walter? Won’t he know?”
“Not if you don’t tell him. I’ll keep my demands reasonable. No midnight calls and no showing up at your house. But if I want you, you come.”
Nervously, I laughed.
“The only people that have to know are you and I. You get to keep feeling like you do right now, and I get, well, you.”
The little voice in my head fell silent. Every word he said sunk deep. I chewed my lip. I asked myself if I thought I could handle something like this.
“You can back out right now,” Dr. Blumfield said, “and no one will ever know what happened except that you had a longer-than-normal examination. You walk out, everything is as it was. But, you don’t want that, do you Alex? You like what I’m saying, hmm?”
“I – yes.” I gulped, “I don’t want to stop feeling like this. I want to be yours. That’s... that’s all I need.”
Wordlessly, he removed those wonderful hands from inside me and walked around the table. He paused for a silent moment between my knees and looked me up then down.
He knelt.
The tip of Dr. Blumfield’s tongue went around either side of my pussy and then down the middle, almost all the way to my asshole. He groaned as he kissed, sucked, licked me. I closed my eyes as his tongue just barely slipped between my folds and tasted all the juice that he made well up from deep inside with those fingers of his.
“Wonderful,” he said, “just wonderful. Your taste. Your scent. Everything about you.”
A finger slipped back inside, then another and a third. He stretched me in slow, deep circles, sometimes spreading them out, sometimes bringing them together and pushing further. A slow, fat lick brought his tongue to my aching button, and as soon as he touched tip to tip, a guttural, rumbling sound came up from deep in my throat.
Faster, faster, he flicked his tongue.
White heat spilled over my groin, all the way to my shoulders. My nipples stiffened again, and I wished that either he extra hands or that I could move mine. I twisted my ankles in the stirrups, relishing the bite of leather on my increasingly raw flesh.
Unconsciously, the muscles at the base of my spine clenched. The tendons on the insides of my thighs tightened.
And then he stopped.
All movement ceased at once.
It took a few seconds for my breathing to return to normal and my pulse to drop back below one hundred. I sucked a deep breath that rattled as it escaped.
I felt his fingers tickle up one thigh, then around my pussy and down the other.
“Does my Alex – my slave – want me to fuck her? Does she want me to slide this cock inside her soaking, sopping pussy and ram her until I explode? Does she?”
“Y-yes, please doctor, please. I can’t wait anymore. I need you so, so bad.” My voice was uncharacteristically desperate. He did something to me. Something incredible.
“Tell me how it feels, slave. I want you to tell me exactly how it feels while I fuck you. Describe my cock stretching inside your cunt. Describe the way it feels for my balls to slap your asshole. Every single detail.”
A little groan escaped my lips when he touched the head of his prick between my folds. Up and down he stroked it. Up and down.
“It feels – it feels like your fingers, teasing my pussy. It feels so good. All I can think is how bad I want you.”
Once more he dragged his cock along the entrance to my pussy, down, then up.
“I feel, mmm, I feel like when you stick it in me, nothing will ever have felt better in my life. I’m listening to the sounds, you sliding up and down.”
Dr. Blumfield pressed his cock’s tip hard against my clit and thrust his hips forward once, then again.
“Oh! Fffff... that feels so good. You’re making my clit hurt, making my whole body ache for you. You’re making, oh fuck! Ohhhh...” I trailed off as he dipped inside my hole and pushed just a little taste inside me.
“The way, the way you’re stretching me. I can’t – can’t believe it. How big your cock, oh my God, how big your cock feels. Oh please, please don’t stop,” I begged, “please never stop fucking me. Give me more; stretch me out all around you. Please, please, please.”
I felt the ridge around his head push the walls of my pussy out further as he worked deeper. Slowly, slowly deeper. I twisted my wrists hard and screamed out, yelping in pain and in pleasure as the skin on my hands began burning.
When his tip squeezed inside, I felt my pussy tug on him, trying to pull him deeper, make sure he didn’t leave. He put his gloved hands on my sides, squeezed hard, and shoved another in another inch.
“Mmm,” I moaned, “the stretching, Doctor Blumfield, the stretching is making me warm. I feel little tingles spreading out of my tight little pussy and up my back. Feels so big, just so, so big. So hard and hot. I’ve never felt anything like your cock before, not ever.” I half-opened my eyes in a pleasured glaze and saw him smiling downward with his eyes fixed on his thick cock sliding inside my body, then pulling back.
“I feel you tug on my lips, when you push forward they follow your dick in, and then when you pull out, they, mmmm...” I stopped to moan when he began circling my clit with the tip of his thumb, “they drag along your shaft. God you feel so good. Please, please shove it deep. Cum in me, please, doctor Blumfield. Fill your slave’s cunt. Fill her up.”
Calling myself ‘slave’ felt very strange. At first, it felt like role play – like I’d put on a Halloween costume. But then I said it again, and again, and it began to feel like home.
“Yes!” I cried when he finally pushed in halfway, my pussy gushing juice around him. “Yes! Fuck - fuck me! Oh my God what I wouldn’t give for you to explode inside me, to feel all that hot, sticky cum drip out of my pussy and over my asshole. Yes!”
He pushed harder and collected sex juice pooling around his cock on a fingertip.
“Stick it in me; stick that finger in my ass.” I sighed, much louder than I meant to be. He didn’t seem to mind.
/>
As the rest of his cock wrestled inside my sex, half of his sex-wet finger slid inside my ass. He pumped deep, straining to cram as much inside me as would go, and rotated the finger in my asshole.
“I feel so full, so, so, full. Keep...fucking...me.”
I had long since started to breathe harder, and sweat trickled down my neck, soaking into the belt that held me down.
“Does my slave want it,” Dr. Blumfield said through gritted teeth as he pulled his cock out until I felt his ridge, “hard?” He shoved forward, balls slapping against my flesh, every ounce of my being alive with the stretching, the sparks and energy that spread out of him and into me.
“Hard?” he repeated, pulling back and driving in all the way. His tip barely reached the back wall of my pussy and, like everything else, hurt terribly at first and then became just one more source of deep, wet, body-wrenching pleasure.
“Harder?” He pulled out and rammed forward again, somehow harder than last time. I screamed each time he drove. He timed the rotations of his finger with his slamming fuck-strokes. Before long, I felt a strange shaking from deep inside my body. Somewhere between my belly and my pussy, a deep, sweet ache welled up.
“So wet,” he said with hitching breath. “This pussy is so wet, so wet. I can feel you gripping my cock. Talk, slave. Tell me how it feels to be fucked this hard. Beg me to come. Beg for my cock to fill you up. Beg!”
“Yes – yes sir,” I said, trying to catch my breath.
“My, my pussy hurts so badly. Your cock is bruising me. I can feel you against the back of me; it feels like you’re so big you’re in both holes, filling me up. Oh Jesus, yes!” I had to gasp and catch my breath for a moment. “Yes! Your slave wants you to pump her full. Pour so much cum inside her that it drips out as you fuck her more. She wants to squeeze your dick and milk out every last drop. Please!”
He grunted and adjusted his hold on my thigh. Bracing himself against me, Dr. Blumfield was pulling all the way out, leveling his cock and ramming all the way in. Over, and over. Again and again.
I felt his body tense up. When he pushed against me, the muscles on the front of his legs were tight, clenched, and hard. I opened my eyes and saw his jaw bulging as he gritted his teeth, trying to keep from coming as long as he could.
Just then, that wave of hot energy slid over and through my cunt, filling up the spaces he left every time he stroked away, and when he pushed in, it surged up my spine.
Every ounce of my strength squeezed his cock. The walls of my pussy began to convulse in cycles of tension and release.
“I’m – I’m gonna come,” he grunted between his teeth. “Beg me to fill your pussy, slave!”
“Yes sir, yes! Please, please fill your slave’s sloppy pussy. Shoot all that cum in me. Don’t let any drip out. I want to keep it all in, feel how warm you are, please!”
He surged forward again, hips slamming against my helpless frame. Harder, harder, again, again.
The doctor sucked a breath deep into his lungs and held it for two pumps, then let it hiss out between his perfect teeth. He hunched over, putting his hands back on my sides, squeezing me hard.
“Squeeze my cock,” he demanded, “milk me, slave! Now!”
For some reason, those words pushed me over the edge. The electric surges in my pussy turned savage. My walls convulsed, my asshole gripped his finger, and I moaned so loudly that it might have sounded like a sob. I felt my sex squeeze him in waves started at the base of his dick and moving all the way up him.
I closed my eyes and used every ounce of strength I had to squeeze him, and at just that moment, I felt his cock jump inside my body, and seem to grow even bigger than it had been. Then, a half-second later, the first burst of his sticky, hot cum blasted inside me.
My vision went white and I wrenched my ankles and wrists. The biting, pinching sensations joined the squeeze-and-release of my sex and pushed shuddering waves up and down my body. And then, for the first time, my worn out little pussy pushed a gush of my own juice around his cock. Again I clenched my pussy muscles and again I squirted as he sucked another breath and pushed forward one last time.
He stayed that way, inside me, sweating, breathing, and softening, for more than a minute. When Dr. Blumfield finally pulled out, a trickle of our mixed juices slid out of my body and between my legs.
***
“Remember our arrangement,” he said as we stood, staring at each other.
I rubbed my wrists. No marks, but the burning felt a little like a brand. But, where the belts chewed at my ankles, faded red rings were barely visible.
Overwhelmed is not too strong a word for how I felt.
Dr. Blumfield pushed the button on the intercom. “Right, examination is finished. Please help Alex with an appointment for one week from today. I need to follow-up on the procedure. Make sure everything is going as planned.”
“Yes, doctor Blumfield. What should I write down as the reason for the visit? You know, for insurance.”
“Oh, of course. Just go ahead and put down routine checkup. I have more detailed notes here. Missus Rogers has a sensitive condition that her husband should not be made aware of. Do you understand?”
The voice on the other end of the intercom took some time to respond. When it did, just a hollow “yes, sir” came through.
“Good. Thanks. She’ll be out front shortly.”
He turned to me, those smoldering emerald eyes burning deep. His eyes, as much as the marks on my ankles and the remaining sensations on my throat and my wrists, reminded me of our agreement. He just watched me for a few moments.
“Don’t forget our agreement, Alex. I certainly won’t. But, I don’t think that will be a problem.”
I nodded, still reeling from Dr. Blumfield’s treatment. Slowly, it all sank in. I thought for a moment about my enslavement, my agreeing to his demands, and more than anything, how much I could not wait for that next appointment. For a far briefer period, I thought about Walter. I thought about telling him what had happened. I thought about telling him Dr. Blumfield tied me down, jammed his cock down my throat and filled pumped me with load after load.
I thought about it. Then I realized it would be a lot more fun to let Walter find out himself.
As Dr. Blumfield turned out the door, and I followed, I grabbed the back of his shirt and gave him a tug.
“I meant every single word,” I whispered. “I want to be your...” I gulped. It was still hard to say.
“Say it, Alex. Tell me what you want to be.”
“I want to be,” I took a deep breath, “yours. Your slave. For as long as you’ll have me.”
“I know.” He smiled and, hand on my back, led me back down the hall. Back to Walter. Back to regular life.
I knew from that moment forward, that nothing would ever be the same. Nothing had ever made me happier.
***
Hope you enjoyed this rough and raunchy tale! As always, I deeply appreciate your patronage and support.
Visit my Author Page to check out all my other erotic stories, and be sure to enjoy the bonus excerpts below to find something else that might stoke your fire.
Connect with me online:
Blog: francisashe.wordpress.com
Email: [email protected]
Twitter: @FrancisAshe
Facebook: Francis Ashe
***
Bonus Material: Bred by My Daddy
Rough, romantic and taboo is the name of the game in this best-selling short story, first in an on-going series. (Coming soon in Audio format!)
Liz, a shy, late-blooming early-20s virgin, is quite a daddy's girl. Well, step-daddy's girl would be more accurate. As she prepares to move off to college, she's surprised when her step-daddy Peter finally returns some of the teasing affection she's tormented him with over the years. What will happen when they unleash years of raw, pent-up sexual tension? Lizzy's about to find out!
Warning: This 7500+ word erotic story is dripping with steamy sex, tabo
o situations, and a promise of things to come. Liz and Peter enjoy explicit oral sex (both ways), multiple orgasms, a hand job that belies Liz’s inexperience, a virgin deflowering, and impregnation. This story is not for the faint of heart, but it just might be for you!
Excerpt:
My little game went on for years. The poor guy had no way out. My mom got a promotion in the hospital to some sort of administrative position early last year, and so she was forever going on these long business trips for weeks, sometimes months on end. At that point, I was getting ready to leave for college, and taunting Peter had become almost a strip-tease exhibition.
I heard him sometimes in the bathroom or in his room late at night tugging on that dick of his, sometimes saying my mom’s name, and sometimes calling out “Liz” instead. I couldn’t believe it the first time I stumbled across him, but I understood. I was a little over twenty at that time, and one of the horniest girls you’ve ever known. Problem is though, I was so shy and so lacking in self-confidence that I’d never let a boy give me a good hard fucking. I’d done oral a few times, and one guy had gone down on me badly twice, stuck a finger or two in me and fumbled around a little, but nothing serious. I wanted it so, so bad, but I just could never go that one last step. I guess part of it is that of the boys I brought home or met out somewhere, none of them ever stacked up to my daddy, Peter.
I’d listen to him in the bathroom. Close my eyes. Imagine what his cock looked like, what he looked like without any clothes on, and what having him split my pussy open would feel like. If I really concentrated, I heard his hand moving up and down his dick – that smooth rubbing sound. When he came, he always sucked air in through his teeth in a hiss. Then he’d grunt and sigh. I liked to pretend that while I was out in the hall with my fingers buried in my soaking wet, aching-for-him slit, that he imagined me underneath him, my legs pushed back so my knees were near my head, and he was so deep inside me that his balls slapped against my asshole every time he pumped.
When I listened to him grunt out those orgasms and sigh, I grinded the palm of my hand hard on my clit, made myself cum just when he did. I’d drive my fingers deep and try to envision him spurting inside me, his jizz dripping down the walls of my cunt and out on to the sheets.
