Demon's Mark: The Complete Series

by Nora Ash

  “Selma.” The tone was unexpectedly gentle. “Don’t be afraid. I am aware that this seems on the unprofessional side; it is not, I promise you. You are just the type of patient that needs a bit more than purely physical stimulation to let go. You are not in any danger.”

  There were questions there, protests her mind couldn’t quite phrase, but his soothing voice was so alluringly calm, and it was much easier to believe his words rather than the nagging feeling at the back of her mind—a mind that already played tricks on her, and was the reason she was in this situation in the first place.

  Slowly, she nodded again. He certainly hadn’t hurt her up until now, unconventional methods aside, and whatever lay ahead it’d be easier to get through if she believed him.

  Dr. Hershey offered a reassuring smile at her surrender, and returned both hands to her slit, spreading her open again. “Everything seems in order, and you are nicely opened up and ready. Good. We can continue with the internal examination.” Without further words he then slipped a finger up inside of her.

  Her pussy clenched automatically, searching for further stimulation, and the doctor’s smile turned slightly wider at her involuntary response.

  “You are getting used to me; that’s good. Don’t be embarrassed, it’s a perfectly natural response.” He twisted his hand around, and she mewled when he hit the soft, spongy spot on her frontal wall. “Yes, there we go... Have you ever experienced a climax from g-spot stimulation alone?”

  “N-no.” God, he was riding it now, pressing hard while drawing small circles. Her body’s response was to clamp down on his finger for more, although the sensation was too intense to be entirely pleasant. She flexed her hips, trying to escape the pressure.

  To her relief—and surprise—he pulled his finger out of her. “But you enjoy having it rubbed, yes?”

  The sheen on the finger he casually held up between them made denial pretty impossible. Blushing, she nodded.

  “Most women need clitoral stimulation to climax—as long as penetration is pleasurable for you, that is not a concern.” He turned around and grabbed a rather intimidating-looking speculum off the tray as he continued to apply some of the same lubrication to as he had dripped on her clit earlier, before spinning back between her legs. “Just relax for me now, sweetheart.”

  Taking a deep breath, Selma made her muscles relax as she leaned back in the chair. While it was bound to be an uncomfortable experience, at least she was familiar with this type of examination, which was a comforting fact.

  Cool metal brushed against her lips, followed by the heated touch of the doctor’s fingers as he spread her open. Then the speculum pushed inside of her, nestling itself in her slick channel and soothing the hot throb of her blood from the previous stimulations.

  “There, nice and easy. Now, let’s see if your body is as ripe and ready to conceive a baby as it appears, hmm?”

  Pregnancy wasn’t exactly at the forefront of her mind, but supposedly a hormonal imbalance would affect that as well as the illusions, so maybe that was why he mentioned it? Nevertheless, something about the way he said it nagged at her increasingly unsettled feeling about the whole situation, but when he clamped open the instrument inside of her, all thoughts centered swiftly and solely on that.

  “Oh, God!” The stretch was forceful and vast, and her pussy struggled desperately to press back against the intrusion. Yet the more her internal muscles fought against him the wider she was forced open, until he couldn’t press her any further. “Please, not so much!” Sweat broke from her forehead as her sex protested in agonized cramps. The engorged, wet state of her core allowed the speculum to wrench her open far beyond what any doctor or man had before, and it was impossible for her to ignore the strongly sexual implication of struggling with the size of what he forced into her—especially since her channel’s defensive clenching on the gaping speculum started driving pleasurable tingles through her still-aroused body.

  “Shh, you are doing fine.” A large hand smoothed down her quivering thigh, over the pubic mound and up to her abdomen where it pressed lightly, before he bent down further, flaming eyes focusing on her gaping pussy. “Ah, your cervix is smooth and lush... very beautiful, Selma. Very fertile, from the looks of things.“

  A small whimper escaped her in response; she didn’t have the focus or energy to correct him on his continued comments about her ability to reproduce, but his hand on her belly had started to press down rhythmically, forcing her vaginal muscles to work the metal device inside of her, and pained pleasure was building in her sex as a result.

  He finally stopped when she felt her juices trickling down past the speculum; he’d ignored the hands she’d wrapped around his wrist in a desperate plea, along with her throaty moans of distress—and reluctant enjoyment from the most basic part of her body. Brushing through her short curls in a soothing caress he reached for another instrument she couldn’t see. A not entirely pleasant prodding sensation deep inside of her the moment after helped re-establish a sense of normality, though the unrelenting stretch kept any thoughts of relaxing with the procedure far from her mind.

  It took him far too long and far too many uncomfortable nudges at her cervix and vaginal walls to finish his examination of her quivering pussy, but when he finally, finally, withdrew the speculum from her with a wet squelching noise, she could have sobbed from relief.

  “You appear perfectly healthy.” Dr. Hershey smiled down at her while he rubbed her lips to soothe the ache in her intimate opening. At this point, Selma was too exhausted to care, and the warm fingers, wet from her juices, felt good as they massaged her trembling muscles. She relaxed against the chair, rubbing her face with her hand and covering her eyes so they didn’t strain from the harsh ceiling light. When she allowed herself to relax in the moment and close her eyes against the world, she could almost imagine that her exhausted muscles and puffy sex was caused by a lover rather than a doctor.

  “You appear to be roughly 5 days past ovulating. When are you expecting your period?”

  Almost.

  “In a week,” she muttered, cracking an eye open to look at the horned man. The white coat and his inhuman appearance made it hard to keep up the fantasy.

  “Hmm. The treatment is easiest done right when you ovulate, but we should be able to achieve good results with some more abrasive stimulation nonetheless.” He took her hand that had been resting over her stomach, and gave it a comforting squeeze. “It may be a bit rough for you, but I ask that you allow it to happen. Just remember; when we are done, your disorder will be one very big step closer to being mended.”

  She frowned at his reassuring smile. The examination had put a bit more reluctance in her willingness to go blindly along with his procedures. “What exactly will happen during the... treatment?”

  The widening of his smile indicated that he fully understood the reason behind her wary tone. “I will stimulate you sexually until complete exhaustion, at which point your body’s hormonal production will peak. Normally, a patient would be looking at images of whatever their illusions were during the session to ensure the neurological changes, but since you see me as a demon, we will negate the false visual stimuli.”

  It wasn’t that she hadn’t been suspecting something to that extent, but to hear it put that bluntly made her heart start pounding heavily in her exposed chest. “Y-you want to... have sex with me??” No, that was one step too far; that was most certainly not approved treatment of patients, however progressive his field of study! She started pulling on the straps around her thighs, fingers trying to find the release mechanism.

  Large hands enveloped hers, gently pushing them back down. “Miss Lehmann, I am a medical professional, and I do not have sex with my patients.” The gentle touch aside, there was an unmistakable core of icy steel in his voice, and she shrank back into the chair, mortified at having obviously insulted the doctor.

  “I-I’m sorry, I...” She faltered, staring mutely up into his burning eyes.

 
; He upheld the silent stare until there was absolutely no doubt that his point had been driven home in the shaking female below him. Then he released her hands and took a step closer, brushing the fabric of his pants ever so lightly against her naked crotch as a result of the proximity. She shuddered at the contact but didn’t take her eyes from his commanding gaze.

  “I understand that it can be difficult to separate this type of examination and treatment from sexual encounters, especially for a young woman with unpleasant experiences such as you have endured in the past. I will remind you, however, that while I will do what I must to bring you into a state of sexual exhaustion in order for the treatment to work, this is strictly for your mental health. I take no personal pleasure in the procedure, and if you believe yourself unable to distinguish between medical attention and a sexual encounter, I will call the nurse back to oversee your treatment.”

  “No, no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...!” It was unclear to her what was worse; the thought of having another woman see her like this, or having accused yet another person of wrongdoings on the basis of her illness. “Please, Dr. Hershey, I didn’t mean to imply that you would enjoy...”

  His only acknowledgment of her apology was a stiff nod, followed by a warm touch against her thighs as he placed a hand on each hamstring. “I suggest you calm your mind and focus on the task at hand, Miss Lehmann.”

  Oh, but this was horrible; the kind doctor had completely transformed, his icy professional attitude replacing what had made her feel comfortable around him before, despite the soothing warmth running down the back of her thighs where he was touching her. She couldn’t go through with this if he stayed like this, if he treated her... as a patient.

  While the slip into a more gray area had freaked her out, there was no denying that it was his heated words that had allowed her to let go and have an orgasm in front of him. She simply couldn’t give him what he’d demand to get her into a state of ‘sexual exhaustion’ like this, the awkwardness and shame weighing too heavily on her mind.

  “Please, Dr. Hershey... don’t use my surname. I... I want to do this right.” She stared up at him, praying her words and the silent plea they concealed would cut through the distance her accusations had put between them.

  The dark haired man regarded her silently for a few moments, those warm palms continuously brushing up and down her hamstrings as he seemed to contemplate the sincerity of her surrender. Finally, he nodded. “As you wish—Selma.”

  The large hands grabbed her thighs more firmly, and she sighed in relief, lifting her pelvis as much as the restraints allowed for, showing him that she would cooperate with everything he demanded of her.

  “Very good,” he mumbled, and the heat from his touch slid down to her slit, thumbs dragging her open once again. “Then let’s get started.”

  The first finger delving into her was immediately accompanied by a thumb on her clit, and she shuddered at the contact, forcing her hips to hold still for his circular movements over the sensitive nub.

  Flaming orange caught her eyes. “Look at me, Selma. Look at me while you feel everything I’m doing to you. I will make you come over and over, and I want you to watch me do it.”

  This time, his heated voice and less than appropriate words filled her with relief rather than terror; her rudeness was forgiven, and she would not be forced to endure a clinical conversation while writhing like a whore for his skilled fingers. She locked her gaze in his, knowing that his intent was for her to focus on the otherworldly illusions while he pleasured her.

  “Good girl.” Another finger was added to her tight hole, soft squelching noises beginning to emit from it when he slowly started moving them in and out, brushing over her g-spot in the process and never stopping the slow circles on her clit.

  It felt good, and Selma let out the low moan building in her throat, releasing any dignity to his will. But this was what he wanted, and she didn’t dare fight him again.

  “You are doing so well,” he murmured in response, changing his hands’ positioning so one was focused on manipulating her clit and the other could thrust the two fingers in and out unhindered. “You are so very wet for me, sweetheart. I bet you’d like another finger, hmm?”

  She didn’t manage to word a reply before he’d pressed a third one up into her, and any thoughts she may have had on the subject got strangled by a groan as her muscles clamped down around him in a short-lived protest to being filled.

  “Women,” the doctor chuckled while he waited for her hold to ease up, the only movement being the gentle stroking over her exposed clit with the moistened pad of his thumb. “Your sweet little pussies never want to open wide, yet nothing makes you come harder. Ah.” The last word was emphasized by his sly smile as they both felt her channel slightly loosen its grip on his intruding fingers, welcoming further penetration.

  “See? It’ll fight me all the way, but your body knows what it needs. It’s biological, of course.” He began pumping again, a little faster this time, as well as putting more pressure on her clit. “You crave to be taken by a man strong enough to get what he wants—it makes for healthy offspring—and your little snatch knows how to make a lover fight for the privilege.”

  “Oh, God!” Her actual lovers had never managed dirty talk to this extent, the few attempts usually only involving mutterings about her breasts and asking if she liked it. Dr. Hershey was of a different caliber, and her body responded violently and instinctively. Her hips pushed up rhythmically, fighting against the straps around her thighs to meet his fingers, and the sounds caused by her lubrication intensified as more moisture rushed to her opening, soaking the doctor’s hand.

  “Oh please, oh God! Oh!” White-hot fire broke through as he changed the angle, pushing roughly up against her soft g-spot in an unrelenting rhythm, and she was only faintly aware of her hands clawing at the chair and the fevered begging for more; only his shouted, “Look at me!” made it through the crazed pleasure as she crashed over the edge, eyes locked on his.

  Her breathing was slow to calm, the warm hum pulsing through her blood not helped by the gentle-yet-insisting stroking of her inner walls by the fingers still lodged there. Sighing tiredly she cracked open an eye to look at the doctor. “Exactly how exhausted am I meant to get?”

  The tall man smiled at her tired expression. “Well, that depends... how do I look?”

  “Still horned,” she sighed, moaning softly and attempting to wriggle away when he pinched her clit.

  “Then more exhausted than this, my sweet.” He flattened his free hand against her stomach, forcing her to hold completely still as he slowly began moving the fingers inside of her again, though avoiding the direct pressure against the throbbing cushion on her frontal wall that had unraveled her completely before. “I want you near-unconscious and so sore that even the thought of another climax has you sobbing for mercy.”

  Despite the instantaneous heat flowing though her core in response to his words, something... almost sinister... in his flaming eyes made her swallow nervously; something that told her he wasn’t purely trying to arouse her with that statement. Not that she could do anything about it one way or the other; if he wanted her passed out and aching, he would do just that.

  Shamefully, that thought only made her pelvic muscles flex with want, momentarily squeezing the doctor to a halt.

  “Little girl,” he chuckled, pushing a couple of fingers from his free hand against her clit until her inner muscles shuddered and released the tighter grip, allowing him to move freely in her again. “You like to be controlled, hmm? Does the thought of being forced until you can’t take anymore make you want to come like a slut?”

  Her responding moan was entirely involuntary and followed by a deep blush of humiliation. He was only doing his job, and she was reacting like... like a desperate slut. Or like a completely pathetic woman lusting for her doctor.

  “Don’t be ashamed, sweetheart.” The fingers had once again picked up pace, fucking her in earnest, though
his voice was suddenly gentle. “I love how you squirm for me. Nothing’s better than a woman who likes it rough.” He emphasized the last word by pressing down hard on her poor nub, sending shocks of sharp movements through it at the same time as her g-spot was once again viscously attacked by rapid and rough tapping of his three fingertips.

  Selma yowled, her body fighting desperately against the restraints to arch into his touch, but he met her futile struggles with more of that unrelenting stimulation and brought her over, hard.

  Every muscle in her body clamped down, her pussy clenching and milking as she rode the climax out, shuddering at the shockwaves of pleasure shooting through her frayed nerve endings. Awkward setting aside, this had to be the best foreplay she’d ever received and—!

  “Oh! No!” God, he couldn’t be serious! “I need... a break!”

  But the fingers pounding into her didn’t relent, despite her cries and attempts at shoving him away; he simply ignored her fumbling hands as if she had no more strength than a newborn kitten, and kept stimulating her over-sensitive pussy until she gave in with a sob, pained pleasure rocking through her abdomen and achy muscles.

  “How are the horns?”

  Selma, who was still on the ebb of the powerful climax, her channel periodically squeezing his deeply lodged fingers in small spasms, stared at the spikes still crowning his dark strands. Something in the back of her mind tried to convince her to lie, but her endorphin-high brain took too long to phrase the words that could have stopped the continued assault on her over-stimulated sex.

  “I’m afraid that means you’ll need something a bit rougher, sweetheart.”

  Though his words made her groan with dread and eye the scary-looking table containing the tools, of which he’d yet to use the more terrifying, she appreciated the small reprieve when he pulled his fingers out and turned away for a moment, shrugging out of the white coat before grabbing the lubrication again.

  To her surprise he applied it liberally to his hand and wrist, and she briefly wondered why on Earth he’d need more lube, as she could feel her own juices practically gushing down her slit and knew his fingers must be soaked with it as well. Then her attention was caught by the huge bulge at the front of the doctor’s pants no longer covered by the coat.