“Yes, Elizabeth Jane, come on in,” says Dr. Monroe, standing up from where he was seated in a rolling chair.
A visible glimmer of happiness flashes in his eyes, which I can see from the dark entranceway to the classroom. I feel good about my ability to elicit such a welcoming response, but I guess Dr. Monroe feels embarrassed about it, because his tone suddenly changes.
“You’re late. You’ve kept me waiting. That’s not being a very good, submissive little patient."
I stop in my tracks and tense up. What exactly does he have in mind to do to me?
“Close the door, Elizabeth Jane,” Dr. Monroe instructs me. “And for Christ’s sake, take off that awful sweater. It looks like some sort of grandmother’s shawl. That’s not what I left for you to put on, and you know it.”
I gulp, but obediently drop the sweater onto the floor. I’m standing here nearly fully exposed, in the outfit he had given me to wear.
“Welcome to my continued examination of you,” Dr. Monroe says, turning on his dictation machine and recording every word. “You are the subject I'll be studying today.”
Dr. Monroe approaches me and gently kisses my cheek.
And then he unfastens the thin piece of fabric covering my left breast. My nipple is exposed to him. He speaks louder now.
“I have already recorded how controlling and strict your mother is. How she caught you masturbating and sent you to me, the family doctor to be examined.”
He is half laughing as he says this, and even though I know my mother is ridiculous, I feel defensive. I feel stupid that I have such a crazy mother, but at the same time I feel strangely protective of her.
Dr. Monroe unfastens the fabric covering my right breast so that now both of my nipples are exposed to him. He stands behind me and begins circling my nipples with his fingers, breathing into my neck as he speaks. I'm quickly aroused by his touch.
“I think your mother’s attempts to control you have backfired, and now you’ll let me do anything I want with you, and enjoy it.”
He circles once, twice, squeezing my nipples with his fingers, until all my senses become aroused. I can smell the chalk on the chalkboard. I can smell his masculine cologne.
“Now I'm tasked with studying the mental state of a young woman who was raised to hate sex but instead loves it.”
He takes my hands and leads me to a wall behind the examination table. I see for the first time that there are hooks on the wall. I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m intrigued.
Dr. Monroe lays me down on the examination table. Then he takes my arms and ties them to the hooks behind me. Finally, just as I was hoping he would do, he opens my legs wide. He opens the “v” of the fabric barely covering my pussy, until it’s not covering it any more at all.
“If I leave your legs untied, will you be a compliant patient?” Dr. Monroe asks.
He is looking at me as if he wants to devour me, like the lion in the wild that Diana's favorite professor, Dr. Calvert, likes to tell us about. Once again, I feel vulnerable and scared, but also strangely excited and turned on. He always knows just how to give me a mix of every kind of emotion.
“Yes, Dr. Monroe."
I know deep down that even though I'm scared, I'll let him do whatever he wants to do with me, and I’ll enjoy it. As long as it doesn’t hurt too much.
“I'm going to hold both of your legs wide open so that you don’t start kicking around in either pain or pleasure, or both,” Dr. Monroe says into the recording device.
I cringe when I hear the word “pain” but I wait obediently for whatever will happen next.
Then Dr. Monroe bends over to the floor, where his briefcase is sitting. And he takes out a very large vibrator.
“I know you enjoy being finger fucked, because it makes you feel like a dirty little slut,” he tells me. “And now you’re going to be my dirty little slut. So, let’s see how you enjoy being primed for my big dick.”
He grabs my legs and forces them apart. Then he puts the vibrator deep into my pussy. As he does so, he takes his cock out of his pants and begins jerking off to the sight of my pussy being fucked by a vibrator.
"Your pussy is so wide open and wet for this vibrator, Elizabeth Jane," Dr. Monroe says, turning it further and deeper inside me and then angling it so it can hum up against my clit as well. "I love watching your pussy squirm as it fucks you."
I writhe around on the examination table, feeling good as the vibrator fucks me good and hard. It’s nothing like Dr. Monroe's cock, but it still feels great.
I feel almost embarrassed knowing that he's watching me in the most vulnerable of positions, with my legs spread wide open and a vibrator jammed inside my pussy. But I also have to admit that I love the fact that I'm turning him on by being so turned on myself.
“This toy is extremely wet,” Dr. Monroe says, pulling the vibrator out and continuing to speak into the tape. “The more sexually repressed a young woman is, the more she’ll get turned on when she’s finally able to find a release.”
He places the vibrator— definitely dripping wet with my pussy juice— on my clit, almost expertly so. I can’t help but moan as it works on my most sensitive of areas. I raise my hips instinctively, wanting it— or better yet, its real, live counterpart— inside me, but not wanting to seem too slutty by begging for it.
Before I know it, I'm coming all over the vibrator, moaning and shouting as I do.
"Dr. Monroe. I'm coming. I'm coming!"
"Go ahead and keep coming," he says, rubbing the dildo all over my clit.
I feel another orgasm rising within me before the first one is even finished making its way out.
"I'm coming again. Again!"
"I know you are, my slutty little patient. Come for me, over and over."
"Oh, my God, Oh, my God," I moan, panting and moaning.
"Please stop for a second," I call out, trying to sit up and push the vibrator away with my hands.
But my hands are tied up and I can't do anything about the continuing hum of the vibrator attacking my clit.
"It's all right, Elizabeth Jane, my little slutty whore of a patient," Dr. Monroe says, in a near whisper although there's no reason to be quiet since no one else is around. He smiles at me. "Just when you think you can't take it anymore is when you'll have the biggest orgasm yet. And that's when you'll be sufficiently pleasured and primed to take my huge cock inside you."
"Dr. Monroe," I gasp, twisting and writhing on the table. "I can't take it. It's too sensitive. I'm going to explode."
I really do feel like I could die of pleasure. He squeezes my ass and then shoves the vibrator deep into my pussy. Then he slaps my clit over and over with his cock, violently rubbing it and stabbing me with it.
"Oh, my God," I cry out, a powerful orgasm cascading all through my body.
Dr. Monroe was right. This feels amazing.
"I'm coming, I'm coming, I can't stop, please fuck me, I'm coming so much, and it feels so good."
I'm a panting, begging mess, calling out to him to finish me off with his real cock instead of this fake one.
"Please Dr. Monroe, please fuck me. I'm your dirty little whore of a patient and you can do whatever you want to me."
"That's right," Dr. Monroe says. "That's how I knew you would feel. There, there."
He stokes my pussy as I whimper and tremble, utterly spent from the giant orgasm that made its way through my body. My swollen clit pulses and my pussy muscles spasm from the pleasure they've just experienced and from being so sensitive to Dr. Monroe's continued touches.
“Now that your pussy is sufficiently primed by the fake dick— it's wet and aching and swollen and raw for me— I'm going to give you my real one."
Dr. Monroe pushes the head of his cock up against the entrance of my now- throbbing pussy. I immediately clench my pussy around his cock, feeling so grateful to have it inside me at last.
Then he shoves his cock into my pussy, hard and fast.
“Ouch!” I
yell, jerking back against the roughness of Dr. Monroe's huge cock. I can't get out of the way though, because he's tied me up. And almost immediately the pleasure outweighs the pain, so I relax.
“There you go, my little naughty nympho," Dr. Monroe coos to me. "You love my big, thick cock inside you, don’t you, my tied-up little whore?”
"Yes," I moan, already about to come again, but this time on his cock.
He keeps a firm finger pressed up against my clit, as if reminding me that he owns it. Then he turns the vibrator back on and rubs it all around my clit as he continues to fuck my pussy hole.
"I'm coming," I whisper, almost wanting to cry from how good it feels. How absolutely powerless and vulnerable he renders me, and how much I love it. "Dr. Monroe, I'm such a slut. I can't stop coming and now I'm coming all over your big cock."
"I'm going to have to punish you for being such a shameless slut," Dr. Monroe says. It's only what your mother would want."
He retrieves something from the drawer beneath the exam table as he continues to ram his cock into my pussy. I see something long and black. Then I feel something hitting my breasts. There are one, two, three quick lashes.
“Ouch! That hurts!” I yell, pain searing my breasts.
But at the same time, I feel as if I’m about to come again from the mixed sensation of the vibrator on my clit, the stinging pain on my breasts and Dr. Monroe's huge cock shoved deep inside my pussy. I feel absolutely humiliated, knowing that he can see me in my most vulnerable of states. But that humiliation also turns me on, and I find myself writhing and nearly shouting out, all of my sounds being captured on his recording device.
“I’m coming! I’m coming!”
“Oh yes, you little slut of mine. Come on my big dick,” says Dr. Monroe, as his cock pulses inside me.
But he doesn’t come. He just keeps pounding my pussy while I come for him.
"You're such a dirty, filthy little whore."
Dr. Monroe whips my breasts with the switch and I moan low and deep, surprising myself with the animal sounds I’m making as I come. It feels so good, and so bad, all at once.
“Yes, I’m a slut, who likes to come on your cock!” I yell, heaving and panting as he fucks my brains out.
I love how his cock feels inside me as he's taking me and making me his own, and even as I’m hit with the whip again and again.
I feel both pain and pleasure, just as Dr. Monroe predicted. Mostly, I feel intense pleasure that goes above and beyond everything I’ve experienced in his office to date. I never knew that would be possible, but there’s no denying that here I am on display for him, being submissive to him, being whipped by him, and loving it.
"Elizabeth Jane, I'm going to come now," Dr. Monroe says, squeezing my nipples where he had just hit me with the whip. His cock bulges and throbs inside me. "I love how you let me fuck you until I come."
"I'm coming too," I tell him. I've lost track of the number of times he'd made me come. He twists my nipple with one hand and rubs my clit with the other while we both come together, him grunting guttural sounds and me moaning and crying out his name.
"Dr. Monroe, I want to be your slutty little patient forever," I tell him, when we're both finished but still feel pleasure coursing through us.
"I think you're going to be more than that," he tells me, with a wink.
And this is why I'll keep accepting appointments to be examined by Dr. Monroe. I never knew that having to go see the doctor could be so amazing.
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Nanny Wanted: A Virgin & Billionaire Secret Baby Romance
Copyright © 2017 by Eva Luxe and Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
Chapter 1 – Willow
I hated this.
There was nothing worse I’d ever experienced in my entire life than having to visit my brother in the hospital. I didn’t even know— no one knew— whether Sam was going to pull through or not. Every time I came here, it was one big question mark with no answer in sight.
And yet, I loved my brother. I believed in him and wanted him to get better. So, I continued to come see him, even though being here was very difficult, to say the least.
The view of the hospital lobby loomed over me as people were coming and going, some on stretchers and some in wheelchairs.
Sam didn't deserve this fate— didn’t deserve to have to be here. My brother was big and loud and affectionate, and made a joke out of everything. He didn’t belong in a place like this, no matter how kind the nurses were or how cutting edge the technology was. He shouldn’t be lying still, with tubes running in and out of him, fighting for his life.
I swallowed my depression and gathered as much courage as I could, but I still dragged my feet as I entered the hospital and retraced my steps back up to his room for what felt like the thousandth time.
The elevator would've been easier, but I needed to keep myself in motion until I laid eyes on him. Elevators were starting to feel a little claustrophobic.
I got to his room and shoved through the door. “Sam, you wouldn’t believe this new—”
His bed was empty. Oh, God, what had happened?
"Nurse, nurse!" I ran to the small nurses’ station a few steps away from Sam’s door. "What happened to my brother? Why isn't he in his room?”
"Oh, Willow, calm down," the nurse said, getting up from her desk and hugging my shoulders.
Her tone and the way she kind of patted me on the back like I was a child let me know that everyone here was sick of how often I freaked out. But I couldn’t help it— I was known to speak my mind and be a little high strung and hyper no matter what the occasion, and who could blame me for being worried in such a situation? I was glad the nurses were kind but I was beginning to realize I was getting on their nerves.
"He's fine,” the nurse continued. “He was just moved to another room in the hospital."
I breathed a shaky sigh of relief and wiped my eyes.
The nurse took me to another station. While I stood to the side waiting, trying my very best to be patient— which certainly was not my strong suit— she leafed through some papers and clicked around on her computer.
Willow, stop being weak. You need to be strong. If something had happened, they would've called the family. Breathe. Sam will be fine. Then you can nag him again about his annoying tendency to leave the toilet seat up.
This wasn't fair. Sam was a good guy, and an awesome brother...when he didn't leave the bathroom a mess.
"Here we go, he's in the north wing of the hospital in room 24B. I'll take you there. It can get confusing trying to get over to that wing of the hospital."
She smiled at me, her humanity winning out— or maybe she was just happy to be getting rid of me— but either way, I was grateful.
I smiled back at her. "Thank you."
On our way over, the nurse started an idle chatter about her family. I guess it was to soothe my nerves. Every word she said went in one ear and out the other.
I tried to pay attention as she told me something about her plans for the weekend including a family barbeque, and then asking me what my plans were. I had tunnel vision, thinking that I would just be here all weekend, of course. All I cared about was my brother.
It was hard enough that Mom and Dad were too busy to come see him very much. But if I had to look out for him by myself, then I would. Lord knew he’d looked out for me often enough.
"Okay, we're in the north wing, and his room is right down the hall."
I ran ahead of her, counting the rooms as I passed each door.
There. I found it.
I waved at the nurse and she waved back, turning around to ret
urn to her station. Maybe she had never been annoyed with me, and it was all in my head. I seemed to be going crazy due to anxiety lately.
I pulled on the door and went inside.
"Sam! There you are."
He didn't respond. I knew he was in a coma, but every time I spoke to him, I felt like he'd magically wake up and say something.
Wake up, please wake up soon.
I wiped the hair from his forehead to the side. The bruises were going down, and he looked peaceful. They said he wasn’t in any pain, and I clung to that reassurance. I'd die if I knew he was in pain.
I settled into the chair next to his bed, getting comfortable for a long visit.
"So, I wanted to let you know that I'm trying my hand at bar tending,” I said, taking his hand. “It's at this weird strip joint, but I'm not a stripper. I swear.”
His hand was warm, a good reminder that he was alive and could still come back to me.
"I don't make money like the dancers, but the pay is decent, and the tips are too. I had to drop out of school though. Money has gotten tight with the family. But I’ll go back, okay? So don’t yell at me for dropping out. It’s just temporary."
I rubbed his hand and looked at the monitors and machines that were attached to him.
"We're suing that person who hit you," I said with a sniffle, "but the courts are taking their time. We're doing our best. You'll be fine though. And maybe we'll have a bigger house and you'll have your own bathroom to mess up as much as you want."
Who was I kidding? There was no way I could sit here and pretend I was Ms. Emotionless. I had a heart, and it was being stabbed repeatedly.
I wished I could've stopped him from going out that night. But how was I to know he would be hit?
I began humming, and then singing a song.
Don’t worry, be happy…
The song was as much for me as it was for him. I needed to remind myself that worrying didn’t do any good.
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