What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 5)

by Cathryn Fox

  The stethoscope was cold at my back, but his hand was pressed on my shoulder, keeping me steady. “Stay still, Miss Preston,” he chided.

  “Yes, Dr. Anderson,” I muttered. My brain was enveloped in a haze of lust, my pussy clenching, my insides churning with longing.

  He straightened and came around to look at me. There was heat in his eyes, but his tone was even. “Very good, Miss Preston, let’s get going to the next bit. I’m going to need you on the examination table.”

  “Yes, Dr. Anderson,” I said obediently, getting up. I hadn’t been paying attention to my untied robe, and as I rose, it slid down, untethered, to my feet. I went scarlet in embarrassment, and kept my eyes lowered. I was mortified.

  “I see naked bodies every day, Miss Preston.” His voice was laughing. “But,” he added, his voice hard, as I moved away from the stool and towards the examination table, “it seems that we have a problem.”

  He was looking at the wet spot on the stool. I went beet-red again. “I’m sorry, Dr. Anderson,” I mumbled. My voice was very soft.

  “Apologies are easy, Miss Preston,” he said, his voice even, “but you need to fix this mess, please.”

  I looked around for paper towels and found none. Surprised and slightly shocked, I looked at him. There was open lust in his eyes, and there was warmth and laughter too.

  “Of course, Dr. Anderson,” I whispered, lowering my face to the stool, bringing my tongue out to lick my juices clean from the table, as he had intended.

  Was I embarrassed? A little bit. Humiliated? Not really. I had looked in his eyes, and he was clearly loving this, but the warmth and laughter in his gaze also made me feel respected. And so I licked the drippings of my wet pussy from the stool, and watched the heat rise in his eyes, and felt powerful at his response.

  I gazed into his eyes when I was done; deliberately licked my lips. “What would you like me to do next, Dr. Anderson?” I asked him, my voice clear.

  He laughed at me, his eyes warm. “You are very unexpected, Lisa,” he said softly. His voice changed and became crisper. “Miss Preston, please get on the examination table, and place your legs in the stirrups.”

  I obeyed, my nerve cells tingling all over at his words. Pleasure filled me, and there was arousal in that pleasure. But there was also warmth and liking as I played this game that he had set up for me with such care.

  The stirrups spread my legs open impossibly wide. Patrick put his hands around my hips and pulled me forward till my ass lay at the table edge. My pussy was exposed to him, as was my asshole, and I flushed scarlet as I imagined how very obscene I must look, splayed open for him.

  He moved towards me, adjusted some straps at the side of the table, and quickly strapped me in. A strap over my chest, just above my breasts. Another strap, just below. Yet another strap criss-crossed my waist, holding me down, and the final one was at my hips. I tried moving, but I couldn’t – I was thoroughly tied down. I sighed in pleasure. The tightening of each strap sent lightning bolts of lust running through my body. The feeling of immobility made me feel vulnerable, which in turn made me cream even more.

  I bit my lip in slight nervous tension as the arousal tingled through my body, and I took a deep breath to calm the fluttering in my stomach.

  “I’m now going to do a breast exam, Miss Preston,” he said. “It might hurt a bit, but please try your best to keep quiet through the exam.”

  I nodded.

  Both his hands were on my breasts, kneading, pulling and pinching. I groaned, and was rewarded with a hard smack on my breast. “Quiet, Miss Preston,” he snapped at me. My insides twitched in lust at his tone. I smiled in pleasure at the sensations roiling through me, and nodded.

  He resumed. He was now spanking each breast, watching them intently as they bounced around under his touch. It hurt a bit, but each spank also made my pussy ache with need, and I could feel the wetness trickle down towards the crack of my ass. I feared I was making another embarrassing mess on the examination table, or worse, the floor.

  “I’m testing, umm, their elasticity,” Patrick muttered, no doubt lying through his teeth. He sounded slightly amused and very aroused. He was spanking my breasts because it was turning him on, and it was turning me on as well.

  After a few minutes of this, my breasts felt hot to the touch. My skin was pink from the contact. He moved on to my nipples, pinching them hard and rolling them between his fingertips. I groaned again, helpless, unable to keep quiet against the onslaught.

  “Miss Preston, I see that I’m going to have to gag you, since you can’t keep quiet,” he snapped.

  I paled slightly. I hadn’t mentioned gagging, and I’d never been gagged before by a guy I was sleeping with. But I reminded myself that this is what ceding control meant. I didn’t want to control each bit of the scene. I nodded my assent.

  Patrick walked away. I could hear the sound of drawers open, and then he returned with a Jennings gag. I’d had one used on me once at the dentist, and it hadn’t been pleasant at all, but maybe that was because of the surgery the dentist was performing.

  I must have looked nervous, because he set the gag down on my upper stomach, and went back to the drawers; returning with a small red ball. He put the ball in my right hand. “Drop it, and we stop,” he said, his voice quiet and reassuring.

  He waited for me to say something. I looked at him. I was tied up on the table, unable to move, and he was going to gag me. But if I were being honest with myself, this was the dark place I wanted to go, and I wanted to go there with this guy.

  “Yes, Dr. Anderson,” I said, holding his gaze.

  He leaned forward and kissed me briefly and hard, interrupting the scene for a second. “So unexpected,” he muttered again. Then he took the gag in his hands, told me to open my mouth, and he inserted the gag into my mouth.

  Exposed. Naked. Open. Helpless. That’s how I felt once the gag was in and Patrick had ratcheted it open. My pussy reacted with another gush; my nipples stayed swollen and erect.

  My fantasies had never taken me here. To a place where I couldn’t move and couldn’t talk, to a place where I put myself in the care of an almost-stranger, where the only way I could articulate my concerns was by dropping a red ball on the floor.

  But Patrick had given me the red ball, and I did have an avenue out. And knowing that, I was able to keep the fear at bay, and I found arousal and lust in this moment.

  He had stilled for a few seconds after putting in the gag, watching me with intent eyes that radiated warmth and caring. As he watched me, my lust was flavoured with something more real, something that transcended my immediate need. Something that would eventually arc its way towards love.

  I arched away from that thought for the moment. That thought could wait till I was alone. Instead, I met his eyes and nodded. I was ready to continue.

  Patrick:

  Every moment, it grew harder and harder for me to maintain calm and to retain any vestige of self-control. Her beautiful pussy was spread out by the stirrups. She was tied down, the gag keeping her mouth open, and she approached all of this with such bravery and honesty. It was excruciating to watch, and I couldn’t stop being in awe by her strength.

  There was something remarkable about the way she approached the play. She made it more real, yet less real; she kept in the scene, yet she didn’t let it overwhelm her. It was there in the back of her eyes. An awareness of who she was and who I was, and a knowledge that we were doing this together, for both our pleasure.

  And that made her truly exceptional. I’d played with submissive women before, but I often left with the feeling that there was nothing particularly meaningful about their submission. They were submitting because of who they were. I was just a convenient object to submit to.

  With Lisa, I felt special. Her submission wasn’t given lightly. I could see that in every line of her body, in the way she held her head, in the directness of her gaze, in the way she leaned forward over dinner the other night when talking to
me, her eyes sparkling with laughter as she recounted a story of a crazy cab ride in Vietnam. Lisa was unexpected and real, and I felt like the king of the universe when she let me gag her.

  I grinned. I couldn’t wait for her reaction to the next stage of the examination.

  Chapter Eight

  Lisa:

  His fingers were at my asshole, and he was rubbing in some lube into my tight bud. I gulped.

  I’d had anal sex once before, and I had hated it. It had hurt in a way that wasn’t at all pleasurable, and I’d felt torn open after the act. It had made me feel lewd and unclean. I contemplated dropping the red ball but I held on for just a bit longer. I told myself I would drop it at the first sign of pain.

  There was no pain. There was discomfort, but that was the natural reaction from a part of my body unaccustomed to being touched, to being probed by the firm fingers of a man.

  “One finger,” he said, his voice tight, as he moved his finger in and out of my asshole. Sensation swirled through me, and impossibly, my pussy grew wet. I was enjoying this. I was enjoying the strangeness of this sensation, and the relative lack of control I had over what he did.

  “And now two,” he said, arousal obvious in his voice, as he added a second finger. I clenched involuntarily, and was rewarded by a sound spank on my pussy. I jumped in my bindings, as longing strummed through me. Through the gag, I moaned, my eyes bright with pleasure.

  “You like that.” There was warmth in his voice and laughter and pleasure in his eyes. He kept his eyes on mine, as he repeated the spank, making firm contact with my pussy again. I writhed and silently begged for more. He laughed at me easily. “Your examination, Miss Preston,” he said, amusement in his tone.

  Oh. Right. My examination. I nodded.

  Two fingers in my ass, and I forced myself to relax my muscles. He was actually a doctor, not just playing one for my benefit. He wouldn’t cause any lasting damage.

  His fingers were pushing in and out, and stretching me open at the same time. I groaned again through the gag. This was so erotic, and my helplessness was adding to my arousal.

  His eyes met mine. “We’ll be doing both a rectal and a vaginal exam today, Miss Preston,” he said, his voice even. “But we’ll need to make sure you are cleaned out before the rectal examination.”

  I swivelled my head as best I could to see what he was rolling in and sure enough, it was an enema bag. I flushed red. Oh, he was being very, very thorough.

  The nozzle was narrower than his fingers, but a lot longer. It must have measure seven inches, easy. I gulped, the tension rising in my body.

  Patrick reached forward, removed the gag.

  “Have you had anal sex before?”

  I nodded.

  “Then you already know the nozzle isn’t too long. Your body can take it. Relax, and if you have concerns, talk through them with me.”

  His tone was steady, firm and reassuring. I nodded again, his steadiness causing calm to spread through me. “Yes, Dr. Anderson,” I said compliantly.

  He smiled at me, warmth in his eyes. That warmth was like a favourite blanket, seductive and addictive.

  He didn’t put the gag back in my mouth; and I was grateful. There was an ache in my jaw, and I would have been in a fair amount of pain had he left it there much longer.

  The nozzle was at my asshole now, and it slid in easily into my lubricated cavity. I could feel him push it in, and I again forced myself to relax, whimpering a little. He stopped when he heard the whimper, and didn’t continue till I nodded again. A warmth flooded through me as I took in his concern.

  I smiled at him, letting the pleasure show in my eyes and revealing my appreciation. “Please don’t stop, Dr. Anderson,” I said softly.

  He looked at me for a second; the expression in his eyes unreadable. “Unexpected,” he muttered again. And then he pushed the nozzle in all the way, and started the flow of water.

  At first, the warmth of the water felt good as it gushed inside of me, but then, the pressure grew uncomfortable, and I groaned, mumbling a faint protest.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to take it, Miss Preston, you’ll need to be properly cleaned before your exam.” Patrick’s voice was cool and professional, and my pussy predictably twitched in response. God, he didn’t even need to touch me; I was aroused by his voice. I focused on the wetness of my pussy and the aching of my nipples as the liquid poured into me, and my stomach began to feel bloated and cramped from the feeling of fullness.

  I could feel his fingers on my ass again. The nozzle slid out and a plug was pushed in. “You’ll need to keep it in you for fifteen minutes,” he said, his voice firm. I gulped.

  “Patrick,” I moaned.

  A silent, raised eyebrow. An expressionless look that somehow made my pussy clench again in arousal.

  “Dr. Anderson,” I corrected myself. “I don’t think I can…”

  He grinned at me now. He had something planned; I could feel the waves of anticipation radiate from him.

  “Fortunately,” he said, his voice layered with amusement, “I have a plan to distract you.”

  He walked away. Again I heard drawers open and close; and now, I could hear a tap running. What is he going to do? I wondered, feeling the pleasurable lurch in me as I thought about the ways he could use my body. He was right; I was already distracted from the cramping in my stomach. Clever Patrick.

  “I need a clear view for the vaginal exam, Miss Preston,” he said, walking near my face, showing me the contents of his hands. Shaving brush. Razor. Shaving cream. Water. For all that was merciful, he was going to shave my pussy.

  Lust shot through my body as I imagined his hands spreading apart my pussy lips, running the razor carefully against my flesh. I trembled as I imagined his fingers accidentally flicking against my clitoris; and then flicking it again with deliberation. I groaned as I imagined the lazy circles the shaving brush would trace on my heated skin, the feel of the washcloth wiping me down.

  I looked at him, my thoughts clearly visible in my eyes. “Yes,” I said simply. Yes. Yes. Yes.

  Patrick:

  It was a miracle that I didn’t blow my load right there. Oh, the arousal in her eyes; it caused my already hard cock to harden further, her willing participation sending a fiery hot flame through me. And now, I was going to shave that beautiful pussy. Fuck. I was a lucky, lucky guy.

  I’m pretty agnostic about pussy hair. Neatly trimmed, landing strip, bare – it’s all good. I had no particular desire for her to be bare. What I wanted to do was run the lather all over her and glide the razor over her soft folds. I wanted to hold her open and touch every inch of her perfection.

  And I did. The brush stroked her lazily lathering her up. Her sharply drawn breath sent another hot lance of arousal through me. I shaved her mound, then parted each labia and carefully shaved her. I loved that she didn’t ask me to be careful. I loved her bravery.

  When I was done, I cleaned her off with the washcloth.

  “Your fifteen minutes are up, Miss Preston,” I said, trying hard to keep my voice even. Desire was raging inside of me, and I was trying to recall the contents of my driest anatomy textbook to keep any semblance of self-control.

  I unbuckled her legs from the stirrups and loosened the straps on the examination table holding her in place. She rose. Now that I was done distracting her, I could see the discomfort from the enema on her face, but she still paused in front of me, before rushing off to the bathroom.

  “Tell you what, Dr. Anderson,” she drawled, the sexy vibration in her voice causing my cock to get impossibly hard. She grinned at me, all laughter and woman, her gaze warm on me. “I won’t masturbate in there if you don’t masturbate here while I’m gone…”

  I laughed aloud. She was so unexpected.

  I nodded agreement. She smiled at me, and she was gone.

  Chapter Nine

  Lisa:

  Yeah, that had been a mistake. I desperately needed to masturbate.

  Once
I was done getting rid of the contents of the enema, I gazed in the mirror, looking at my pussy. It glistened; wet and waiting. I hadn’t shaved myself bare in years, and I touched myself experimentally, feeling the softness of my pussy lips, my fingers coming away wet with juice. I was so, so ready for Patrick to fuck me.

  I pulled my hands away from my pussy before the urge to orgasm consumed me, and walked back in to the examination room.

  Laid out on the table were a couple of stainless steel speculums, and they were large. Anticipation surged through me as I met Patrick’s gaze.

  “Back on the table, Miss Preston,” he said with a smile.

  I smiled back at him. He was so good-looking, and I ached with a fierce, passionate ache to have his cock in me. But we were in the middle of the game, and I kept playing.

  His hands were firm on my ankles as they spread my legs impossibly wide, buckling me into the stirrups again. The other strips of leather were quickly tied back across my body, and once again, quicker than I would have thought, I was immobile and under his control.

  “Does your vagina need lubrication, Miss Preston?” he asked, laughter in his voice. I clamped my lips together to keep from laughing aloud. He knew, just as well as I did, that my pussy was dripping, sopping wet.

  He picked up the speculum and moved between my opened legs. He was very close. His erection brushed against my pussy, and when he moved away, I could see the damp spot on his pants where my juice had smeared all over his clothes. I gulped; this was unbelievably erotic. This was my fantasy on crazy steroids; this was better than anything my mind could have imagined in the darkness of night.

  “Tsk, tsk,” he chided softly as his eyes followed mine, saw the damp spot. His lips twitched though, and mine did as well, as we shared in our private moment of amusement.

  And then, the speculum was pushed in, and my focus was quickly returned to the scene.