Doctor, Lawyer... Police Chief

by Doctor, Lawyer, PoliceChief(lit)

  I nodded.

  As he closed the door and drove off, I wondered what I’d gotten myself in to.

  It seemed we drove for a very long time. I wasn’t particularly comfortable, and I was tense. I realized, however, that it wasn’t fear, but sexual frustration. I wasn’t even sure I could remember the last time I’d had real sex. My husband had virtually ignored me for years—I was his last choice as sexual partner. For all the good it had done me, I hadn’t dared even consider dating during the divorce process. And I’d been far too busy trying to get my life in order afterwards to even strike up an acquaintance with a man.

  I’d resorted to my trusty dildo a few times, but, except for self-gratification, I hadn’t had a climax in months and it had been longer than that since a man had touched me.

  I’d heard of policemen willing to take sex in exchange for a ticket, but this seemed way off the beaten track.

  My breasts, released from the prison of my bra, teased, but not fulfilled, ached for attention, making it hard for me to concentrate on anything else—beyond my bare ass, that is.

  Finally, we stopped. I waited, hopeful, more than a little nervous.

  The back door opened. I tried to twist around to look at him.

  “Be still. Face forward. You’re not to speak, or make any sound at all, unless you’re allowed! Nod if you understand.”

  I nodded.

  He left the car door open and walked away.

  I was tempted to see if I could twist around and see what he was doing, but I was afraid I wouldn’t get what I hoped was coming if I didn’t obey.

  In a few minutes, he was back. He wasn’t alone, however. I knew that even before the other man spoke.

  “She’s decided to work out her fine. I’m off duty in an hour. You’ve got her till then.”

  My eyes widened. I hadn’t expected this. Instinctively, I tried to shift so I could see who the other man was. Someone popped my ass.

  “What were you told?”

  I went still.

  “Good girl.”

  In a moment, my ankles were grasped and I was pulled backwards until my feet were touching the ground. I could not get up. My hands were still bound behind me by the cuffs.

  My skirt, which had fallen down, was flipped up over me again. Someone ran a hand over my ass, spread my ass cheeks. Something long and hard slipped between them. I felt myself go wet with anticipation, lifted my hips hopefully.

  Instead of feeling the cock sliding into me, however, it was withdrawn.

  Disappointment swamped me.

  My arms were grasped and I was hauled upright. “Be a good girl and I’ll fuck you senseless when I get back.”

  I swallowed with some difficulty. “What do I have to do?” I asked, breaking the rule of silence.

  “Whatever Doc tells you to do.”

  The other man grasped my arm, urging me to go with him. I glanced back at the cop as he got into his patrol car without a backward glance and started it.

  The tug on my arm brought my attention back to my current situation and I turned to glance at the man who was pulling me along.

  Unfortunately, it was too dark to tell much about his face. I got the impression that, like the cop, this man was young—by my standards, anyway--somewhere in his early thirties, I thought. He was also tall, more slender than the cop, but, from what I could see, well built.

  He was wearing a white lab coat.

  I considered that while he led me through the garage and into a kitchen. I knew it was a kitchen. Even though it was dark, the appliances were easily distinguishable in the shadows.

  He pulled me to a stop as we reached a closed door. Opening it, he flicked a switch on the wall inside. Lights glowed to life, but these were not bright, intrusive lights. They were muted, reminiscent of a darkened club or expensive restaurant. Gripping my arm snugly, he ushered me down a flight of stairs.

  I was astonished when I saw the room.

  It looked like a doctor’s examining room.

  I wasn’t sure I liked the looks of it.

  He pushed me toward a table that looked a lot like a gynecologist’s table. Pulling my skirt up so that my lower body was exposed, he told me to sit. I glanced back, saw a little step and stepped up, then sat on the edge of the table as I’d been told.

  He moved away, behind me.

  I was tempted, of course, to look to see what he was doing, but I’d been told not to do or say anything except what I’d been ordered to do. I remained still. In a moment, I felt his hands on mine, heard the click as the handcuff was removed from one wrist.

  “Lie back.”

  I lay back.

  He grasped both my wrists and lifted them over my head. I felt the cuff circle the wrist he’d freed, heard a click. Instinctively, I tried to lower my arms. I discovered I couldn’t move them. I glanced at the man with a touch of alarm and discovered that he had a surgeon’s mask over the lower part of his face.

  My heart skipped several beats, but he moved away, ignoring my uneasiness. Grasping one foot, he lifted my leg, pulled my heel off and tossed it aside, then placed my foot in one stirrup. Moving over, he repeated the process with my other leg.

  I was more confused than ever. It was far too much like a pelvic exam to be anything sexual, I decided.

  I didn’t noticed the straps on the stirrups until he’d fastened them around my ankles.

  Apparently satisfied, he moved my skirt up until it was bunched around my waist, then he moved around me and opened my blouse. My breasts were half in and half out of my bra cups, which had shifted. He very carefully scooped my breasts from the cups and bunched the cups beneath them so that they lifted my breasts and thrust them forward without covering them in any way.

  Moisture saturated my sex as I watched him.

  He looked at me for several moments, then, holding my gaze, lowered his mask and slowly bent over me. I watched, mesmerized as he opened his mouth over my nearest breast. The pleasure was exquisite. My nipples had throbbed for attention ever since the cop had handled them, teasing them without the satisfaction of a thorough fondling. I groaned as he suckled my nipple hard, teased it with his tongue.

  He released my breast. “You’re not to speak. You’re not to make a sound. This is your final warning.”

  I swallowed with some difficulty. Nodded.

  He moved around the table.

  I braced myself when he leaned over me and opened his mouth over my other breast. My head swam as he sucked, nipped me with the edge of his teeth. I gasped, panted, fought hard to restrain myself from groaning as pleasure ran along my nerve endings.

  Finally, he lifted his head.

  My heart was thundering in my chest. My sex was flooded with moisture, aching for possession. I was breathing so raggedly, I thought I would pass out … but I hadn’t made a sound.

  After studying me for several moments, he started around the table again. I watched him, certain he would fondle my other breast again. Instead, he grasped a stool and sat, rolling it forward until he was between my legs.

  I tried to lift my head to see what he was doing but discovered the restraints on my wrists wouldn’t allow it.

  The table shifted. The stirrups holding my legs swung outward, parting my legs as far as they would go. He grasped my hips, pulling me toward him until I could feel air against my buttocks, knew I was hanging off the edge. I felt his finger testing my flesh, then slowly, he slid his finger inside of me.

  My belly clenched. I managed, just barely, to restrain myself from groaning with pleasure.

  He withdrew his finger. Something hot and wet settled over my sex. I knew, even before I felt the suction of his mouth that that was what it was. I tensed, bucked as his tongue flicked out, teasing my clit. It took an effort to swallow a cry as he sucked my clit into his mouth, sucking it, nudging it with his tongue. He released it. I panted, tried to brace myself for the next assault. His tongue flicked out, began to flick against my clit.

  I wasn’t ready fo
r it. Pleasure shot through me and I groaned before I could stop myself.

  He stopped at once. Rose from the stool and moved away from me.

  Stunned, I could only watch in disbelief. It dawned on me finally that I’d been ordered not to make a sound. If I made a sound, I’d be punished.

  This was the punishment.

  I was denied.

  I swallowed. Dare I beg for his return? Or, since I’d been forbidden to speak, would that only bring more, or worse punishment? What could be worse than being left hot and bothered?

  “Please! I won’t do it again! I swear it!”

  He stopped, pivoted slowly until he was facing me. “You were warned. You are not to speak. You are not to make a sound.”

  I swallowed. What did me mean by that? Was he saying I was going to get punished again, and worse, for speaking? Or was he merely reminding me that I’d agreed to the terms demanded?

  He disappeared behind a curtain. When he returned, he was carrying a tray. I thought at first that it was medical instruments, but when he set the tray down, I saw that it contained a number of what I guessed were sex toys. I recognized some of them. Most, I did not.

  He left again. When he came back, he was carrying a cup, which he set down on the tray. He took a seat on the stool then, saying nothing, merely watching me.

  My body cooled. Where, moments before, it had throbbed with the promise of fulfillment, it ached with disappointment.

  I stared at the ceiling, damning him, damning myself. I’d spent my entire life doing just what I was told to do. Now, for the first time, I desperately wanted to do what I had been told to do, and I couldn’t. I hardened my resolve. If he gave me another chance, I would do exactly what I’d been told—if it killed me.

  “I’ve decided to give you another chance.”

  Relief flooded me.

  “First, though, you have to prove yourself worthy.”

  I frowned, wondering how I was going to prove that.

  “First you have to prove that you’re willing to do whatever I demand, no questions asked. Do you think you can do that?”

  I was a little uncertain, since I wasn’t clear on what I might be commanded to do, but I nodded.

  He got up and moved to the table. Freeing my ankles, he lifted my feet from the stirrups. Next, he moved to the head of the table and unlocked my wrists. My knees were weak and almost folded under me as he helped me from the table. He forced me to face the table, then pulled my wrists behind my back once more and secured them as they had been. Helping me right myself, he took my shoulders and turned me to face him once more. “Stay.”

  As I watched, he moved to the tray, studied it for several moments and then removed a series of clips that looked like the ones pot smokers had once referred to—and perhaps still did—as gator clips. The clips—there were three of them—were connected by a small chain. A dark wire was connected at another point, which led to a small, black box that reminded me of a remote—in general shape and size. Obviously, it wasn’t a remote. It was connected to the wire. I studied it curiously as he moved toward me with the strange gadget. Standing in front of me, he tucked the black ‘remote’ in the center space of my bra. He grasped my nipples then, tweaking them until they stood erect, then carefully clipped a gator clip to each one. I tensed, expecting pain. There was a slight pinch, but little more than his fingers produced.

  He knelt in front of me. “Spread your legs.”

  I complied, watching, feeling my pulse accelerate as he parted the flesh surrounding my sex and very carefully attached the third clip to my clit. He stood then and reached for the ‘remote’. I heard the click of a button. A moment later, a tiny jolt—like a static charge, went through each nipple and my clit. I gasped, but clamped my lips together as pleasure surged through me.

  He grasped my shoulders, forcing me to my knees, then slowly opened his lab coat.

  He was completely naked beneath the coat. His cock was rock hard, erect and--big. I swallowed, staring at it. The steady, but intermittent shocks had brought me fully aroused once more. I wanted that cock inside of me so badly I could taste it.

  He lifted his cock, offering it. “Suck me and I’ll consider sliding this in your pussy and giving you release.”

  I’d never been a huge fan of giving head. I loved having my pussy sucked. It was the only way I could cum and something my ex-husband had rarely done for me. I wasn’t sure I actually wanted it in my pussy, at least not until he’d made me cum. But, perhaps, if I pleased him, he’d give me what I wanted?

  I opened my mouth, leaned forward. He grasped the back of my head and pushed the head of his cock into my mouth. I relaxed my jaws, allowing him to push further still.

  He groaned. Apparently, he was allowed to voice his pleasure.

  That was all right. I could live with it. I sucked, moving my head back and forth in counter to his own movements.

  “Suck me dry and I’ll make you cum till you scream for mercy.”

  I sucked. I ran my tongue around the rim of the head of his cock. He moved faster and faster. The little electric shocks vibrating through my clit and my nipples seemed to come faster and harder with every movement I made. My head swam. My heart thundered in my chest. I could feel myself climbing toward release. He grasped my head suddenly, pushed his cock deeply into my mouth. His cock jerked. Something hot struck the back of my throat. I swallowed reflexively, turned on more than I would ever have imagined possible by the fact that I’d made him cum.

  He began to pull away. I sucked harder, feeling my own release pending. Like an elusive sneeze, it lingered on the edge, just out of reach.

  He pulled away.

  I was gasping, still reeling, still hovering at the brink.

  He switched the little box off and the pleasure ceased abruptly.

  Without thinking, I groaned in frustration.

  He lifted me and sat me on the table behind me, shaking his head. “You were doing good.”

  I surveyed him petulantly as he removed the lovely little clips that had given me so much pleasure.

  He moved behind me, removed one cuff as he had before and pushed me down on the table. Lifting my arms, he secured them once more above my head before moving down the table and placing my legs, one by one, in the stirrups. My nipples throbbed. My clit throbbed harder. The cool air against the heated, moist flesh of my sex did nothing to cool me.

  He moved to the tray, lifted the cup and took a long drink from it. Without a word, he returned to his position on the stool, rolled between my legs and placed his mouth on my throbbing clit.

  Expecting heat, the shock of his cold mouth nearly made my heart stop. I gasped, tried to move away. I couldn’t. My stomach clenched. I gritted my teeth.

  He tweaked my clit with his tongue, sucked, nudged it again. Slowly, the cold escaped his mouth and warmth replaced it. Pleasure dispelled discomfort, building once more, throbbing through my veins.

  I felt myself on the verge of climax when he withdrew once more.

  I gasped, panting, stared at him in confusion as me moved to the table. Again, he lifted the cup and drank. I watched him nervously, realizing suddenly what my punishment for not obeying was—he meant to withhold my climax until he was satisfied that I’d been punished long enough.

  He placed his freezing cold mouth over my nipple this time. I lost my breath, almost passed out. I hadn’t recovered from the shock when he moved to the other nipple and, despite my state, another jolt of shock went through me.

  He watched me for several moments while I fought for air.

  Finally, he reached for the clips. He attached them once more to my rock hard nipples, then carefully drew the third clip down and attached it to my clit. He switched it on. A throb went through me, bringing my clit, and my nipples, to life, sending a wave of pleasure through me.

  Lifting the cup, he moved down to my feet again, sat on the stool. I tensed when he moved out of view, between my legs. To my surprise and relief, he didn’t put his cold m
outh on me. Instead, after a moment, I felt him insert his finger into my vagina. He moved it around experimentally and touched a spot inside of me that sent shock waves of pleasure quaking through me. I had no idea what it was, but I’d never felt anything like it. I moved my hips, hoping he’d stoke it again. He did. My belly clenched around his finger. It took all I could do to repress a groan of ecstasy.

  “Do you want my cock inside of you?”

  My mind was so clouded with pleasure it took a moment even to understand what he’d asked. Once I did, however, I knew I wanted what I had. I shook my head.

  He removed the clamp on my clit and replaced it with his mouth.

  The icy cold made my stomach clench painfully.

  I hadn’t even recovered from that jolt when he replaced the clamp.

  He stood up, moved to the head of the table.

  I opened my eyes a fraction, wondering what he meant to do now. He lifted the front end of the table until I was almost sitting upright.

  I looked down at myself. I suppose I should have been embarrassed, or shocked. Instead, as I stared at my splayed legs, saw the clamp on my nipples and my clit, heat and moisture flooded through me.

  He moved to stand between my legs, holding his cock in his hand. It was hard. “Do you want this?”

  I closed my eyes, tried hard to concentrate on the jolts of pleasure rushing through my nipples and my clit, trying to reach climax before he could snatch it away.

  “Do you want my cock inside of you?”

  I shook my head. I was almost there. I was going to make it this time.

  I was teetering on the verge when he turned the button off. It took an effort to refrain from screaming at him.

  He removed the clamps, tossed them aside. “Good girl.”

  I opened my eyes to look at him. He stared back at me and slowly lowered his head. Expecting his mouth to be cold as it had been before, I tensed. It wasn’t. It was hot. He suckled my nipple, hard, almost painfully so. My belly clenched. My heart began to thunder against my chest as heated pleasure flooded my brain in a dizzying wave.

  I was panting for air by the time he released that nipple and moved to the other. He teased it, on and on, until I thought I would faint with the pleasure, but my clit throbbed, unfulfilled.