Yes, Doctor

by Renee Rose

“Yes, doctor,” she said. Their eyes met and held and for an instant, she could not breathe, the searing intensity of his gaze melting her into a puddle.

  “Good night, Chloe,” he said softly.

  The spell broken, she turned. “”Night,” she answered, slipping out the door and leaving the building before she launched herself at the doctor and begged him to take her home and keep her as a pet.

  What was it about him? The very doctor-ness she hated in the rest of the medical profession? The take-charge confidence certainly appealed. But there was something deeper. Something he understood about her that she had only just begun to see. A secret she wasn’t sure she was ready to explore.

  She passed the next few days in eager anticipation, and when Thursday came, she spent time in the morning braiding her hair to one side as he had requested, putting on makeup and choosing an outfit.

  She feared the day would pass slowly, but with a packed schedule she found herself too busy to spend time thinking about their date until five o’clock rolled around and the clinic emptied.

  “Change your clothes and meet me in the parking lot,” Dr. Darren ordered when just the two of them were left.

  Her heart skipped as she popped into the restroom and shucked her scrubs, putting on an outfit she deemed as sophisticated—a black skirt, purple spaghetti strapped blouse and high heels. Grown up clothes. This time she’d be ready to date a doctor.

  She toddled out to the parking lot, the heels already making the balls of her feet ache. She looked around. His car or her car? Where exactly in the parking lot did he want her to wait?

  “My car,” came the deep, commanding voice behind her. “Walk over, put your hands on the hood and don’t turn around.”

  She obeyed, her heart racing with the thrill of the unknown. She reached his white Jeep Cherokee and placed her hands on the warm metal, as instructed, listening for the sounds of his steps.

  “Take off your panties,” he ordered. She started to look over her shoulder, but he snapped, “Do not turn.”

  “Sorry,” she giggled, snapping her head back to face the vehicle and forgetting.

  He cleared his throat. “The panties?”

  “Oh!” she giggled again and lifted the edges of her skirt enough to grasp her panties and yank them down. She prayed no one besides him could see her. She stepped out of the tiny g-string and held it out, without turning.

  “Hmm,” he said, taking them from her. “These are smaller than I imagined.” He wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her against the front of his firm body. His hard cock pressed at her low back and she longed to touch it, but she didn’t move, just waited for instructions. He brought the panties in front of her face. “Put these in your mouth.”

  “What?”

  “In your mouth. Now,” he said sharply, reproof in his tone.

  She opened her lips tentatively. He pressed the little piece of silk and elastic into her mouth.

  “That will serve as your gag. I do not want you to speak until I remove it. You may nod your head yes or no if I ask you a direct question. Understand?”

  She nodded, rolling the fabric around in her mouth.

  “Turn around.”

  She spun to face him.

  He took a step backward, surveying her from head to toe with a critical eye. “You look beautiful, Chloe. Are you comfortable?”

  “Mmph?”

  “You don’t quite look comfortable to me. Are the shoes bothering you?”

  She shrugged, embarrassed. “Mmmph mph,” she replied, an attempt at “a little bit.”

  She realized he had dressed casually, in a pair of jeans and short sleeved button-down. She flushed.

  He stepped back in and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Did you choose this outfit for me, Chloe?”

  She nodded, feeling foolish.

  “I love it. And I love the way you look in it. But I think I prefer you to look more like yourself. I don’t mean scrubs, but this doesn’t quite seem like your style. Is it?”

  She shook her head, her forehead crinkling.

  He kissed the lines away. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For making such an effort.” He took her hand and led her to the passenger side, opening the door for her and helping her in.

  Chapter 8

  He had planned to go more casual for this date to put Chloe at ease, and ironically, she had readied herself for something more formal. Her efforts to meet him with what she must perceive to be his style touched him, but all he wanted was for the two of them to click. He wanted her to open up and share her real thoughts with him, to trust him enough to show her true self.

  Certainly she trusted him with her body. The image of her bent over the supply closet shelves, letting him take her anal virginity with the possibility of her bosses walking in at any moment had stayed with him. He’d thought of nothing but Chloe all week, strategizing for how to crack her shell.

  A heavy dose of domination was the best plan he’d come up with.

  “Were you sore from our escapade on Monday?” he asked when he climbed in. Her cheeks puffed from the panties, her lips thrust forward, making them look even more full and kissable than usual. He enjoyed the thought of interrogating her when she couldn’t talk.

  “Mmm...hmm mmm,” she said, giving him the so-so sign with her hand.

  “Did you tell anyone about what we did?” he asked as he started up the car.

  She nodded with a guilty smile.

  “Who? The friend you were talking with on the phone the day I caught you smoking?”

  She giggled and nodded again.

  “Was she shocked?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “Impressed?” He pulled out, heading to a local microbrewery pub that served food.

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “Have you touched your pussy since Monday?”

  She looked startled and guilty, as if she hadn’t considered his orders not to touch still held. She nodded, looking at him with wide eyes.

  He made a tsking sound. “I will have to punish you for that. How many times? Hold up your fingers.”

  She blushed and looked down at her hand, counting on her fingers. He had to hold back a smile when she held up four fingers.

  “Four times?” he exclaimed, giving an incredulous lilt to his voice. “Did you climax four times?”

  Her cheeks grew more pink and she nodded.

  “Naughty girl. I will have to spank you before dinner.”

  She squirmed in her seat, as if the idea excited her.

  “In fact, I may spank you four times. Once for each transgression.”

  She gave a mewl of protest and he dropped a hand on her knee, giving her a squeeze of affection.

  He pulled into the parking lot and chose a spot in an unlit corner, away from other cars. “Don’t move,” he said, opening his door and getting out. He walked around to her door and opened it for her, offering a hand.

  She took it, swinging her heels out and stepping down.

  “Open your mouth.”

  She obeyed and he pulled the little panties out. She looked at them dubiously. “I can’t wear those now, they’re all wet!” she protested.

  He grinned. “You’re not going to wear them, and you still don’t have permission to speak. You won’t wear panties when you’re on a date with me.” He tossed them in the car and shut her door, then opened the door to the back seat and climbed in. Patting his lap, he said, “Come in. It’s time for your first spanking.”

  She hesitated, looking nervously around the parking lot.

  “Now, Chloe,” he said sharply.

  She gave one more furtive glance and stepped in, shutting the door behind her and gingerly crawling over him to drape herself across his knees.

  “Mmm,” he said, stroking the outline of her curvy backside through the skirt. “This is just how I like you.” He pulled up her skirt, his cock jerking at the sight of her naked ass. He brought his hand down on one cheek, hard.

  “Ouch!”
>
  “Shh. No talking. You earned this punishment, and I expect you to take it without protest.”

  The scent of her arousal filled the vehicle.

  “Spread your thighs a little,” he ordered, wanting a better view of her pretty little pussy.

  She complied and he smiled at the sight of her glistening slit, begging to be stroked.

  He slapped her other cheek, then rubbed away the sting. He wondered how long or hard he’d have to spank before she stopped enjoying it. The truth was, while he had a naturally dominant personality, he had never before engaged in kinky play to this level. Though now he wondered why not. The heady sense of power and virility he derived from taking charge of Chloe fulfilled a need he’d never known he had.

  He continued to spank her until she began to writhe and whimper. Her cheeks had turned from creamy white to a rosy pink and the color began to hold. “Have you had enough, little girl?” he asked, rewarding her with two fingers between her legs.

  She jackknifed back, eager for his touch.

  “No, little miss. Naughty girls do not get off after they’ve been spanked,” he said, though he did not stop his steady caress of her sex, circling her clit, then penetrating deeper.

  “Ohhh,” she moaned.

  “Do you like that?”

  “Yes!”

  He removed his hand and gave her one last slap. “Then you’d better behave tonight so you can get your reward later.” Pulling down her skirt, he helped her slide off his thighs to sit beside him. “You may get out now,” he said imperiously.

  Her face flushed, she swallowed. “Okay,” she said meekly, reaching for the door handle.

  He exited from his side and met her around the car, putting a hand on her low back, straying toward her bottom to guide her in. They sat down and the waitress handed them menus.

  “What can I get you to drink?” she asked.

  Chloe shot him a glance, as if wondering if she had permission to speak. Pleased she had remembered, he leaned forward and asked in an undertone, “Do you drink beer?”

  She nodded.

  “Light?”

  She nodded again.

  “We’ll have two honey ales,” he said.

  The waitress looked from Chloe to him as if trying to understand why a grown woman wouldn’t order her own beer.

  When she walked away, he grinned. “It used to be considered gentlemanly to order for your date.”

  Chloe just smiled, clearly enjoying the game as much as he. They looked at their menus.

  “You may point to the food you’d like to eat,” he informed her.

  She chuckled and held up her menu, pointing to the grilled chicken salad like a mute.

  “Perfect. After we order, you may speak, but only to ask any questions you may have for me. Make them good, because I may not allow you to speak again.”

  Once again, Dr. Dreamy had reduced her to a mass of tingling nerve-endings, in the best possible way. She understood his game now—by taking away all her control, she had no reason to be nervous. All she had to do was obey, which, it turned out, served as the hottest foreplay she’d experienced.

  She didn’t even want to think about what that said about her.

  Darren ordered their meals and then turned to her. “You may now ask me questions.”

  She took a breath. “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-eight. Next?”

  She went for the most difficult one for her to ask. “What made you think I would like this?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up as he regarded her with a heavy-lidded gaze. “You enjoy having control removed. It keeps you from worrying about whatever it is you worry about.”

  “But how did you guess?”

  He shrugged. “I saw the way you responded to your first...examination.” He made the word examination sound thrilling and dirty all at once.

  “Well...that’s what I don’t really understand,” she said, realizing she wasn’t asking anything and hoping he wouldn’t stop her. “I hate exams. I hate doctors. I don’t think I like having control removed at all. I think perhaps it’s just you.”

  “That wasn’t a question, but I’ll let it slide. And I’m flattered you think it’s me, but consider this theory of mine. Perhaps you’ve always craved, at least in a sexual context, having someone take charge. But in a non-sexual context, being submissive is considered weak and so you resist it with all your might.”

  She furrowed her brow, considering.

  “I mean, what is it you hate about doctors? The fact that they claim some sort of authority over you and your body?”

  She blinked. “I guess so.”

  He cocked his head. “The very thing that flips your switch.”

  For some reason, the revelation made her want to cry, shaking her like a hidden truth dramatically revealed.

  He reached his hand across the table and covered hers, as if he understood the magnitude of her reaction, which she could hardly comprehend herself. “Why did you become a CNA if you hate doctors so much? You may speak,” he added with a wink.

  “The French lit degree didn’t land me a job as quickly as I thought it would,” she said with a sardonic grin.

  “French literature,” he mused, without the how could you be so stupid? tone people usually used when she told them. “I bet that was interesting.”

  She shrugged. “I liked it.”

  Even more than French lit, she liked the way he looked at her, as if she were the most fascinating creature on Earth. “Other questions?” he asked after a moment of silence.

  She gathered her thoughts. “What about you? Do you like having authority over people’s bodies? Is that why you became a doctor?”

  He smiled. “The short answer is yes.”

  “And the long answer?”

  He drew a breath. “A lot of reasons. I like to be the hero. I have a fierce need to understand how everything in the body works. And I love babies—truthfully,” he said when she raised her eyebrows. “It may seem paradoxical, but even as someone who has distilled the process into science and procedure, I am still reverent about the miracle of every birth, and every little soul that comes into life.”

  She waited, sensing there was more.

  He looked as if he were deciding whether to say it all or leave it at that. “My father dropped dead at the dinner table when I was sixteen,”

  She stilled, meeting the pain in his eyes with steady presence.

  “I couldn’t be a hero to him, or to my mother, who suffered for years after his death. I felt so helpless, and I resolved never to be that way again. Going to medical school was the antidote. Mastering the human body, in a sense.”

  Her eyes smarted, but this time for him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  The waitress interrupted, bringing their beers and he started to pull his hand away, but she caught it, giving it a squeeze.

  He gave her a faint smile.

  “So did it work?” she asked when the waitress had left.

  “No,” he answered frankly, his expression turning sober. “The first time I lost a baby during delivery I had to come to grips with the fact that control is just an illusion.” He lifted his shoulders. “Maybe this,” he said moving his finger back and forth between the two of them, “is a healthier expression of that need.”

  She sat up straighter, liking the idea of being good for him.

  The waitress brought their food. “You have permission to speak freely,” he said with a wink.

  Despite the permission, they fell into silence as they ate, but it was a comfortable one this time—so different from the last strained date. When they finished, he led her to the car.

  “So, my plan is to take you home and have my way with you. Are you on board with that?” he asked, backing her up against his Jeep and trapping her between his arms.

  “Oh, I get a choice?”

  He leaned over and nuzzled her neck. “You always have a choice, sweet thing. You can give yourself to me or you can hold you
rself apart. But once you’ve given yourself, I’m in charge.”

  “You had me at my plan is…” she admitted.

  “Okay, let’s go get your car from the clinic parking lot and you can follow me home.”

  She nodded, excitement about going home with him pinging through her body. But by the time he pulled into the parking lot, she had herself twisted in knots, with every anxiety small and large looming up at her. Would she spend the night after sex? Should she stop at home to get her toiletries? Would she act awkward and embarrassed when she got there?

  Dr. Drake—he had become the formal to her again in that short time—put the car in park and turned to look at her. “I just lost you, didn’t I?”

  She nibbled her lip. “What do you mean?”

  He turned the car off and got out. She climbed out on her side and he met her, taking her hand and leading her toward the clinic.

  Chapter 9

  He’d had visions of Chloe in his bed after their date the night before, but she’d frozen up on the way to the clinic, so he ended up spanking and ravishing her in an exam room. He figured the thought of spending the night had made her nervous, so he’d kept it in her comfort zone.

  He didn’t mind. He’d get her home eventually. Maybe even get her to loosen up around him.

  In the meantime, he enjoyed getting frisky at the clinic. He’d called her in that morning and demanded she remove her top and bra for her daily breast exam, which he performed with his thigh between her legs and strategic use of his tongue on her nipples.

  Hoping for more examination time, he offered to take the afternoon appointments, since it was Friday, but Dr. Reinhart waved him off. “No, I need to get caught up. Enjoy your weekend.”

  He cornered Chloe where she was cleaning an exam room between patients. Walking in and opening the drawer as if he needed something, he said in a low voice, “Do you have plans tonight?”

  “Oh! Um...no!” she said, sounding confused.

  He narrowed his eyes, trying to decipher her reaction. “Did that really mean you’d rather not see me again tonight or yes you did actually have plans, but you could change them?”