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His Name Is Sir (The Power to Please, Book 3)

Page 3

by Ward, Deena


  I blew out a relieved breath. I loved Elaine so much in that moment, adored her for sending Ron to rescue me, for knowing that he was the right person for the job.

  Ron kept smiling, holding out a hand to a flummoxed-looking Michael. “How ya doin’, Weston? Haven’t seen you since the night of the fancy ball.”

  Michael got himself together quickly and shook Ron’s hand. “I think you’re right. Been keeping busy?”

  “Yep, yep. Always do.”

  Ron held out an arm to me and I accepted it gratefully, resting my hand on his thick forearm.

  He said, “Well, hate to have to run, but Elaine sent me to fetch Nonnie for her. Probably got some gossip that won’t wait. You know women.”

  Michael sent a level look at me and said, “I think I do.”

  Ron laughed and whacked Michael on the back, driving Michael a few steps forward. “Good to see ya. Don’t be a stranger, now.”

  And then Ron ushered me out of the hall, leaving Michael behind to stew in whatever feelings he had about the situation.

  I could have kissed Ron, my big, beefy hero, saving me from a potential charge of testicular assault with a well-aimed foot.

  He looked down at me and winked. I smiled up at him. He patted my hand then we strolled together back to our table. He even pulled my chair out for me after we arrived. If I didn’t already have a fondness and something of an attraction to Ron, I damned sure would have had both after what he just did for me.

  Elaine raised her eyebrows.

  I said, “Thank you, so much. You two are the best.”

  Elaine waved off my thanks. “It was nothin’, honey.”

  Ron asked, “He didn’t threaten you or anything, did he?”

  “No. Nothing like that. I just don’t want to rehash everything with him. I want to move on. That’s all.”

  They nodded their understanding. I glanced at Patsy, who had been studiously, and politely pretending that she wasn’t hearing a word we were saying. I caught her eye, gave a small shake of my head.

  I said, “Exes.”

  She nodded. “I hear you.”

  And with that, to my great relief, everyone went back to talking about Friday night. I set aside further thoughts of Michael and joined the discussion. There was still much to settle and I wanted to play my part right. I wanted Friday night to be perfect for my fine friends.

  When we were all talked out, and as ready as we were likely to get, Ron and Elaine escorted me to my car without saying a word about why they were attending me. They made it seem a natural thing.

  I drove away thinking that I should be grateful to Michael for one thing: he had introduced me to the Hoytes. And then I had an awful thought. What if Michael were at Private Residence on Friday? What if I saw him in the audience? How would that be?

  Ron and Elaine said they had spread the word around that they were putting on a show Friday night, and they had reserved the display room with the most viewing rooms for the event. They expected quite a crowd.

  What if Michael were part of that crowd?

  I would ignore him, I told myself. No reason for him to make me uncomfortable. He’d simply be one more spectator. Nothing more than that.

  And if Michael really were still interested in me, and if the sight of me doing my thing in that public room left him hot and bothered with no chance of easing himself on me, well then, it would serve him right. It wouldn’t hurt him to be taken down a notch or two.

  Geez, I thought, maybe I really was a vindictive person. Just not in the way Michael imagined.

  I smiled the rest of the way home.

  “I need to breathe, you know!” I fussed at Elaine, who was in the process of trying to zip up my costume.

  Elaine made a grunting sound as she tugged on the zipper. “You look great, and you know it. Quit complaining. My corset is way worse than this. There! Good enough.”

  I looked down and laughed, which didn’t last for long since I didn’t actually have enough available air to waste on hilarity.

  I wore a preposterously tight nurse’s outfit, all white of course. It was the kind of uniform you’d never see a real nurse wearing, unless it was Halloween and she wasn’t at work. Elaine had squeezed me into the tiny thing, up past my hips and waist, but couldn’t get the zipper up over my breasts, so she just stopped trying and left it stuck in place at the base of my breastbone.

  Elaine admired me. “Now that’s some pretty fine cleavage.”

  I said, “That’s not cleavage. That’s public indecency.”

  Elaine laughed. “Like I said, pretty fine.”

  I tried to chuckle but gave it up for a lost cause. At least the fabric had some stretch in it, so I’d be able to move my arms. Not only were my boobs falling out of the thing and the plackets barely covering my nipples, but the dress was so short that if I bent over at all, I’d be flashing what small bit of modesty I had left.

  It was okay, though. I liked it. I even liked the silly little nurse’s cap that Elaine pinned on my head, and the pair of heels that were way too high for me. You didn’t walk in heels like these; you pranced.

  Elaine, Patsy and I had been shut up for a half hour in the dressing/recovery room of our reserved display room at Private Residence, getting ready for our scene.

  Elaine was dressed like me, in a nurse’s outfit, only she had a lovely white lace corset on underneath her uniform. Patsy was playing a patient, so she was wearing nothing but a paper smock, tied at the back. At least one of us would be able to breathe.

  Elaine gave herself a last look-over in the mirror, then declared us all ready for the show. I took a steadying breath and followed her through the door into the display room.

  Ron was already inside, waiting for us. He looked good in his doctor get-up, though I never knew a doctor to sport a pair of tight leather pants when he was on duty. Ron did wear the traditional white doctor’s jacket, complete with dangling stethoscope.

  His dark brown hair was appropriately messy. He had somehow managed to make his beard look a bit scruffy, when it was normally trimmed and neat looking. Ron was the burliest-looking doctor I had ever seen, like a professional wrestler playing dress-up.

  He gave a low appreciative whistle as he watched the three of us parade out of the dressing room. We did a few quick curtsies then went to our assigned posts.

  It was a fairly large room, too large really for what Elaine wanted, so she had set up white screens to make the space smaller and to hide most of the room’s normal equipment. With the remaining empty space, she ran some dividers partially down the diagonal center, giving the impression of two rooms, while at the same time not obscuring the sight line of the spectators in the surrounding viewing rooms.

  Ron was seated at a cluttered desk in one of the faux rooms, obviously a representation of a doctor’s office. The other room was dominated by a big exam table, a stool, some carts on wheels loaded with phony medical equipment, and a screen in one corner which Patsy was currently hiding behind. It was a decent enough version of a medical examination room.

  All the curtains to the viewing rooms were closed at the moment. There were ten viewing rooms in total, five each on two sides. When I had been in one of the viewing rooms with Michael, I hadn’t realized that there were curtains on both sides of the big plate glass windows.

  When we were ready to begin, Elaine would push a button on the wall that would open all of our curtains to the audience. My stomach flip-flopped when I thought about how many people might be waiting behind those windows.

  I took my post off to one side, next to an easel that displayed a tidy stack of big poster boards, all turned white-side out. Elaine stationed herself at the far wall and gave us a questioning look. Were we ready?

  I nodded. We had done a rushed rehearsal before we got dressed, really just doing an overview, since we were saving the good stuff for the show. I was as ready as I was going to be.

  Patsy poked her head out from behind the screen and waved her hand. Ron nodd
ed.

  Elaine flipped on the music. It was a tinny, light tune that was meant to recall the days of silent films and the accompanying piano music. Elaine kept the volume pretty low, just meaning the music to be a subtle touch in the background.

  She smiled and hit the button to open the curtains. I stood up straight and stuck out my boobs. They didn’t really need to be stuck out, but what the hell.

  The curtains slid open. Oh my. The Hoytes had outdone themselves in their promotional efforts. Most of the viewing rooms were filled to capacity, with at least seven or eight people in each one. A sweeping glance told me the least-filled room had four people in it, two couples who were already lip-locked with one another.

  There had to have been at least sixty people in total. Wow. Okay then. A thrill shot through me. Time to get this baby started.

  I picked up the first poster board and turned it toward the audience, then began a slow and sultry walk past the windows, or at least as sultry as I could manage in my crazy heels. I hoped my big smile might make up for what my walk lacked.

  The sign I was holding read, “A Doctor’s Work Is Never Done.”

  The main purpose of my stroll, apart from making sure everyone read the title of the show, was to give the audience time to settle down and find their seats before we began. I completed my leisurely tour without breaking my neck, and without making eye contact with anyone in the big crowd. Coward, I thought, then slid the board back in behind the others.

  I kept my post while Elaine and Ron went into action. Dr. Ron acted like he was ready to leave the office for the day, removing his stethoscope and pulling up a briefcase from behind the desk. Nurse Elaine strolled into his office and made an “oh no” face and shook her finger at him. No, her actions said, Dr. Ron couldn’t go home yet.

  She pointed in the direction of the exam room, clearly showing that Dr. Ron had one more patient to attend to.

  Dr. Ron shook his head firmly. No, no more patients. But Elaine wouldn’t take no for an answer. She pulled on his huge arm, an amusing sight since Elaine was tiny next to her husband. She pointed repeatedly to the exam room, waved her hand in the air, created a big silent fuss that meant Dr. Ron was not getting out of seeing the patient.

  He had no choice but to give in. He shrugged, frowned, gave an exaggerated silent sigh, then put his briefcase away and reached down for his stethoscope.

  I picked up the next poster board and turned it around, waggling it to get the audience’s attention. It read, “Oh no! Overtime! Again!”

  While Dr. Ron made a show of how very much he didn’t want to see another patient, Elaine trotted into the exam room and pulled Patsy out from behind the screen. Patsy crawled up onto the exam table in such a way as to ensure everyone would see her bare ass peeking out from the gaps between the ties of her gown. She seated herself daintily on the end of the table.

  Dr. Ron slowly and begrudgingly made his way up to the table. He squinted at his patient, then went through a half-hearted exam, checking her pulse, looking in her ears, that sort of thing. When he finished, he held up a thumb, giving her the okay sign, then made as if he were returning to his office.

  Elaine grabbed his arm, and pantomimed back to the patient. She whispered in his ear. Ron looked dubious for a moment, then turned back to his patient.

  I turned over another card. It read, “Another Damned Breast Exam.”

  Dr. Ron stood so he wasn’t blocking the view of the proceedings and in a display of frustration for being forced to work against his will, he reached down and tore the paper smock right down the middle, baring Patsy’s breasts in the process.

  Patsy gave a dramatic gasp and Elaine’s eyes went wide in shock.

  Dr. Ron began his “exam,” which was basically some serious heavy fondling. Patsy had a pair of pretty, perky breasts. Ron squeezed them and poked at them, tweaked and pulled at her nipples until Patsy moaned.

  Nurse Elaine, meanwhile, watched it all with great interest, an interest that only grew as the examination progressed. She sidled around to his side of the table and rubbed up against his back. Ron ignored her.

  At this point, I went into action as well, and shot an aroused look at the goings-on. I stroked my breasts lightly, squeezed myself some, and began edging toward the exam room.

  Elaine went further in her attempt to get in on the action. She pulled one of Dr. Ron’s hands away from Patsy and closed it over her seriously bountiful bosom.

  Dr. Ron turned to her, an annoyed look on his face. He pulled his hand away and shook a finger in Elaine’s face. She gave him a pleading look, but it was no use. Ron returned to his exam of the now loudly-moaning Patsy.

  I sidled up into the scene, and pressed myself against Ron’s back, mashing my breasts against him while Elaine did the same to his arm. We both tried to pull his hands away from Patsy, but he fought us, and wouldn’t do what we wanted.

  We kept at it, though, until he finally lost patience with us and turned around to face us. He firmly pushed us away and gave a firm head shake of “no.” Elaine and I pleaded with our eyes, each of us reaching for one of his hands, and trying to get him to touch our chests.

  He couldn’t take anymore. We had gone too far. He made a “that’s it” motion with his hands, then reached out and unzipped Elaine’s dress, her bare breasts spilling out.

  He reached over to me and because of my situation with the tight dress, had some trouble getting the zipper to budge. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Finally, he muscled through it, moving the zipper far enough that he could yank down the sleeves of my dress to fully reveal my breasts.

  He held up four fingers and glared at us. We looked penitent and nodded with big, wide eyes.

  Ron reached out and squeezed one of Elaine’s breasts, lightly ran his fingers over her flesh. Elaine gave a big dramatic sigh.

  With his other hand, he did the same to one of my breasts. I sighed happily, too, And it wasn’t an act. It felt pretty damned good, actually.

  Then ... smack! He slapped Elaine’s breast. And ... smack! He slapped mine.

  We both cried out louder than the pain warranted. It did sting, though, I had to admit.

  He reached for our other breasts. Smack, smack! He delivered the second blow.

  Then back where he started. Smack! Smack!

  Elaine and I cried out in unison.

  Smack! Smack! The fourth and final blows for each of us.

  Dr. Ron turned his glare full on me, shook a castigating finger in my face then pointed to my post by the easel.

  I hung my head and shuffled away, but made sure my expression conveyed that I was secretly thrilled by his sexy abuse.

  Dr. Ron was still shaking his finger at Elaine, who wasn’t even trying to look like she was sorry, when I grabbed up and displayed the next poster card.

  It read, “Let that be a lesson to you, naughty nurses!”

  I heard a loud round of laughter from the other side of the plate glass windows. I smiled inside.

  Everything seemed to fly by after that, as the scene moved into a natural flow. Patsy indicated with her expression that she probably needed punishing, too, and Dr. Ron refused to give her what she wanted. Eventually, Patsy became so pushy that Dr. Ron had no choice but to discipline her. Patsy cried lustily as he slapped her breasts.

  Just when Dr. Ron thought he was finished, Patsy whispered in Elaine’s ear, who then whispered in Dr. Ron’s ear. Dr. Ron’s shoulders slumped.

  I turned over another card. It read, “Female Troubles. Damn!”

  Patsy hopped off the table and Dr. Ron had her lean over the end, her bare ass facing the audience once he ripped away the remaining shreds of her paper gown.

  He took a hands-on approach to discovering the nature of her “female troubles,” amply fondling her ass, and rubbing her bare pussy, fingering her labia, reaching under her to get at her clit.

  Meanwhile, Elaine and I started up our “hey, we want some of that” routine again. By the time Ron was twisting his finge
rs inside the groaning Patient Patsy, Nurse Elaine and I had insinuated ourselves into the action.

  We worked our bodies against his huge frame like he was a white-coated stripper pole. I rubbed myself up and down his back, while Elaine took her position at his side again. By now, I was comfortable enough with the whole thing, and feeling some arousal in spite of the comedic nature of the play, that I began to sneak looks at the individuals in our audience.

  I thought I recognized some of them from my time at the kink ball, in particular some friends of the Hoytes. Most of the people, though, I hadn’t seen before.

  It was fun to watch their reactions to what we were doing. Some were kicked back in their chairs, smiles on their faces, enjoying the silliness on display before them. Others looked the way that I felt, a mixture of amusement and arousal. A few others had stopped watching for the most part, and were paying more attention to what they were doing to each other. I saw at least one female head bobbing between a pair of thick, masculine thighs.

  One room had the lighting set particularly low, and it took me several glances to see what was happening in there. There were maybe five people inside, all of them in their own chairs, all of them watching the scene with pleased expressions.

  One man sat near a wall of the room, not far back from the glass, a tumbler held in one hand. He looked relaxed, like he was enjoying himself. His black hair was pushed back from a strong forehead. His eyes were dark and focused on me.

  I met his gaze. A jolt of recognition shot through my body before my brain had the chance to identify the man.

  It was Gibson Reeves.

  Chapter 3

  I continued my slow grind up and down Dr. Ron’s back as Gibson noted my recognition. A partial grin tugged up one side of his mouth.

  I broke eye contact with him and tried to get my head back into the scene. Had it suddenly grown warmer in the room? I mentally shook myself. I was only reacting this way because I knew Gibson. There was a difference between being watched by strangers and being watched by people you knew.

 

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