Doctor's Orders

by Deanna Ashford

  ‘So you have a responsibility towards your patients, do you?’ Justin was standing so close to her now that she could feel his wine-tainted breath on her cheek, and she was certain she could detect the odour of spent sex clinging to his body.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ she agreed, her heart pounding out of control.

  ‘Towards Duncan Paul?’ Ben asked.

  ‘To all my patients,’ she replied, not even looking at Ben, as she dare not take her eyes off Justin, who looked ready to pounce on her at any moment.

  ‘Does that responsibility include fucking?’ Justin asked with a cynical smile.

  ‘Duncan and I are friends . . .’ she faltered, as Justin reached out and jerked open the top of her white coat to reveal her naked breasts.

  ‘Very close friends, it seems!’ Justin raised his eyebrows enquiringly. ‘And do you visit all your patients dressed like this?’

  ‘Get your hands off me.’ She tried to pull away from him, still regretting her desperately foolish decision to chance coming in here with Ben. But her retreat was brought short by the kitchen table, just behind her.

  ‘Scared?’ Justin taunted.

  ‘Helen, we’re not going to hurt you,’ Ben said reassuringly. ‘Are we, Justin?’

  ‘Of course not.’ Justin pulled open her coat completely, giving a low whistle of approval as he looked her up and down. ‘Very nice. Did I neglect to mention in the pool that you’ve got a really great body, Helen.’

  She tried to pull her coat together, but Justin stopped her, jerking the garment down her arms and away from her, leaving her clad in only her brief panties. Helen stiffened, acutely conscious of the way Justin and Ben were now staring at her, their desire all too obvious. Surprisingly that made her fear subside a little, there was a certain kind of power in knowing that they both wanted her, especially after they had so summarily rejected her by the pool side.

  Very aware of the sudden change in mood between her and the two men, and the sudden wanton need that filled her body, she glanced down at her breasts. Her nipples still looked ripe and redly engorged as a direct result of the nipple clamps. For a moment she almost wished she’d left them on, imagining how much they would serve to arouse Justin and Ben. ‘Did I happen to mention you were an arsehole, Justin.’

  ‘Feisty as well now, are we?’ Justin sneered. ‘Who would have believed it. Sandra told me that not so long ago, when she watched Max arse-fucking you, Helen, that you were delightfully submissive.’

  ‘If you know Max was fucking me, you must also know that we are involved. So you should be careful, shouldn’t you, Justin,’ she challenged. ‘One word from me and Max will have you sacked.’

  Justin clapped his hands slowly. ‘Very clever, Helen. But threats of any kind won’t wash with me. I’m pretty sure that Max doesn’t know you’re fucking his famous cousin. Max is a possessive kind of guy, isn’t he? What say I let him know that his piece of pussy is fucking Duncan and anyone else she can lay her hands on.’

  ‘Do it,’ she hissed. ‘I don’t bloody care. Do anything you want, Justin!’

  ‘Anything?’ Justin thrust his hand into her panties and cupped her pubis, his fingers slowly easing their way inside the damp slit of her sex. Despite her fear and loathing the feel of his fingers exploring her quim inflamed her senses, and for a moment she almost wanted him. Helen tried to keep control of herself, telling herself not to give into the wild, illogical urges that suddenly consumed her thoughts.

  ‘I don’t blame you for wanting Duncan Paul.’ Justin’s fingers delved deeper. ‘He’s famous and fabulous looking. I wouldn’t mind a piece of him myself. Does he have a big cock? Does it feel good when he shoves it inside you?’

  ‘Go away and leave me alone,’ she said, her voice trembling, while his burrowing fingers made her knees grow weaker and weaker with longing.

  ‘But you don’t want him to leave you alone, do you, Helen,’ Ben taunted, watching them closely.

  ‘That’s right. Relax, sweetie, let’s get to know each other better,’ Justin purred soothingly. ‘We can work this all out. You can become part of our special little group. Then we’ll let you in on all our secrets,’ he added, still continuing to frig her, his voice becoming almost hypnotic in its intensity.

  ‘Secrets?’ she asked tremulously.

  ‘We all have secrets.’ Justin ran the tip of his tongue across her bottom lip, and Helen fought the temptation to open her mouth, let him kiss her properly. She wanted to press herself closer to him and savour the alien feel of his pierced tongue. ‘Some secrets are more interesting than others of course,’ he continued in a mesmerising tone that made her head spin. ‘If you come with me, I can show you,’ he purred, keeping his hand pressed to her quim, as his other arm slid around her waist.

  Chapter Eight

  FEELING SLIGHTLY DETACHED from reality, Helen found herself letting Justin lead her into the elaborately decorated bedroom. The room was warm, the air thick with the odour of perfume and sex. Helen had eyes for only one thing as she stared in amazement at the woman on the bed – bound and blindfolded, she could neither move nor see.

  It didn’t even register for a moment that the woman was Sandra. Helen was so aroused, so overcome by the erotic vision that confronted her. She had never realised how uniquely stimulating and exciting bondage could be. She felt her pussy grow wetter and her heart rate increase as she looked at the lush, full-breasted female tied to the four-poster bed.

  Thin ropes were looped around Sandra’s ankles and wrists, then tied tightly to the four corner posts of the bed. Sandra could barely move, and her legs were held so wide apart that her sex gaped open. Helen was rooted to the spot, never even realising that Justin was locking the door as she stared at the vivid slash of Sandra’s quim. Her flesh looked moist, rosy and engorged. Helen’s head swum almost as if she were intoxicated.

  Sandra’s breasts were so huge that they spilled over the sides of her body, the nipples red and swollen, tightly compressed by evil-looking nipple clamps. They were a far cry from the dainty objects Max had sent to Helen. She pitied Sandra, and yet a part of her almost envied the captive’s discomfort.

  ‘Justin, is that you?’ Sandra asked, restlessly moving her hips. The pink lighting in the room cast deeper crimson shadows on the valley of her sex, and Helen was filled with the sudden need to press her lips to the hot flesh, savour the musky odour of Sandra’s sex. It was many years since she’d been with Sandra, and she couldn’t even recall how it felt to pleasure a woman with her mouth.

  ‘Someone has come to see you,’ Justin teased, picking up a peacock feather, trailing it over her breasts, down her belly, across her shaved pelvis. The tickling sensations drove Sandra wild and when Justin drew the feather slowly between her legs, she was tantalised almost beyond endurance. ‘Harder,’ she pleaded.

  Sandra’s frustrated whimpers pierced Helen’s belly, further inciting her senses. Lust filled the air, oozing thickly over Helen’s bare skin, making her shiver with eager anticipation as she heard Ben moving behind her. She uttered not a word of protest as he eased off her panties.

  ‘No one will do anything you don’t want,’ he promised her as he slid leather straps around her body, just below her bust.

  Helen glanced down, watching with detached fascination as Ben cupped her breasts in an elaborate garment. It was fashioned out of strips of leather and chains, with silver rings that encircled her breasts, just a shade larger in circumference than her nipples. When Ben tightened the straps at the back, her breasts were tightly compressed by the garment pushing her nipples forwards until her flesh bulged lewdly though the confining rings.

  ‘Pretty.’ Justin tossed aside the feather and stepped over to Helen. ‘When Ben is finished preparing you, I give you permission to do anything you like to Sandra.’

  ‘Who will do anything they like to me?’ Sandra asked agitatedly.

  ‘You have to guess,’ Justin replied. ‘That’s all part of the game.’

  He turned back t
o help Ben finish dressing Helen. The bottom of the garment was similar to the top, all straps, buckles and chains. Her pussy was to be confined however by a one-and-a-half-inch-wide strip of leather, fastened at both the back and front by tiny buckles. Just before it was fastened at the front, Justin slipped a small pink object between Helen’s legs, placing it directly over her clitoris. The objected reminded Helen of a sea anemone, with tiny pink pliable fronds that brushed against her sensitive flesh. When the buckles were tightened the fronds dug into her and the sensation was surprisingly pleasurable.

  ‘Look at yourself,’ Justin said, turning her towards the mirror.

  She looked so unlike herself, her hair tangled and in disarray, her lips still semi-swollen by Duncan’s kisses, her pale flesh criss-crossed by the leather straps of the erotic garment. Her breasts were so tightly confined, it made her nipples look even bigger, even more pronounced as they bulged obscenely out of the metal rings.

  Justin held a small plastic object in his hand, and attached to it was a wire that ran down her back to the tickler lodged next to her clit. She wanted him to turn it on, to experience the teasing pressure, but he just slipped the battery holder under one of the straps strained tightly across her buttocks.

  ‘You are beautiful.’ Ben looked at her with admiration as if he desired her above all else. For a second she almost forgot his perfidy and the fact that he’d so recently rejected her in favour of Justin.

  ‘Now for your outfit, Ben,’ Justin prompted, watching Helen turn and walk, almost as if she were mesmerised, towards Sandra who was still lying helpless on the bed. Feeling aroused and excited, yet somehow detached from reality, Helen stared down at Sandra’s huge nipples tightly compressed by the clamps, the metal teeth biting visibly into her flesh.

  Helen gently brushed her finger across the tip of one teat, and Sandra gave a pleading moan. Without saying a word, Helen forced open one of the clamps, releasing the abused nipple. It looked so sore, so tempting, that she couldn’t resist pulling it into her mouth, sucking on it hard, making Sandra squirm with pleasure.

  ‘The other one,’ Sandra begged. ‘Take it off, they are too tight. Justin knows how much pain they cause me.’

  ‘But you adore pain,’ Justin said to her, now wearing an equally outrageous garment. His penis and balls were cupped by a large ring, which pushed his sexual organs up and forwards so that they appeared even bigger.

  He never took his eyes off Helen as she released Sandra’s other tortured teat. Before she could bend down and take it in her mouth, Justin took hold of the red, angry nipple, twisting it cruelly while his mouth sought Helen’s. As he kissed her, Helen pushed her tongue into his mouth, savouring the bizarre feel of the metal stud that punctured his tongue. Suddenly, Helen realised how easily Justin was managing to gain control of her senses. She pulled back and stared at him, hardly able to believe she had allowed this to happen. Helen despised Justin, but there was a cruel sensuality about him that she found utterly compelling.

  Justin smiled, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, and handed her a long, thin, leather-covered switch, with a handful of leather strands at its thinnest end. It was a cross between a whip and a riding crop. ‘Sandra likes to be punished,’ he explained, twisting one of her erstwhile girlfriend’s sore nipples, until he forced a squeal of anguish from her.

  ‘It turns her on even more. If you don’t believe me look at her buttocks. I’ve already punished her quite thoroughly, but I think a few more strokes are needed to finish the job.’

  Helen looked down at Sandra, trussed and totally helpless, then at the instrument of agony she held in her hand. She suddenly had a compelling urge to use it, the need lancing through her like a physical pain. Despite all that had happened, all the years that had passed, a secret part of herself still lusted after Sandra’s lush womanly curves. Perhaps deep down most people had bisexual urges that they kept buried until the perfect opportunity presented itself.

  There was a faint line of a lash mark curving around Sandra’s left hip, but her belly was still pale and unblemished. Helen gave an experimental flick of her wrist, and the strands of the whip brushed against Sandra’s stomach, but the blow didn’t even leave a mark. Clearly she had to put a little more effort behind it next time.

  Helen pulled back and hit Sandra again straight across her belly and naked mound of Venus. The blow was much harder, and the strands left a faint red mark while Sandra’s belly shuddered from the assault.

  ‘Very good,’ Justin said softly, like a teacher encouraging his pupil. ‘Keep every blow separate, try not to hit her in the same place again.

  Helen did as he suggested, laying the blows lower, until Sandra’s bare pubis and thighs were criss-crossed by faint red wheals, and she moaned aloud from the painful pleasure.

  ‘You’ve found your calling,’ Justin teased, as Ben moved to stand beside him.

  Watching Helen whip Sandra had turned Justin on even more. His prick was now rigidly distended, his balls tightly protruding from the metal ring. Ben now had on a similar style of garment, but his balls, and erect cock were covered by skin-tight thin black leather. The design made his penis look doubly menacing. Helen wondered if he had ever fucked anyone while his dick was sheathed in the leather. Her entire body felt weak as she imagined what it would feel like to have the leather-covered organ powering inside her.

  ‘Sandra isn’t quite ready yet,’ Justin pointed out, still teasing and playing with his helpless victim’s nipples. He contrasted the pain with pleasure, leaning forwards to kiss her passionately now and then. ‘Use the other end of the whip.’

  Helen turned it in her hand. Holding the end decorated by the thin lash strands, she slapped the thin leather-bound handle across the inside of Sandra’s thigh. It made a satisfying smacking sound as it seared her flesh. Remembering Max’s erotic domination of her own body, Helen aimed the second blow across Sandra’s open quim – driven on by Sandra’s soft groans of anguish to repeat the blow again.

  ‘Please,’ Sandra begged. ‘More.’

  This time Helen aimed far more precisely, ensuring the tip of the switch caught Sandra’s clit. It was already deep scarlet, and hugely swollen. Yet on receipt of the blow it appeared to stiffen even more, stimulated into life by pain.

  ‘Doesn’t that feel good?’ Justin purred, moving behind Helen.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied in a low voice, trembling with excitement as she felt his pierced cock dig into the small of her back. She dare not admit it, but she would have given anything for him to bare her sex, and thrust his delicious organ deep inside her.

  ‘Move round, position yourself between her thighs,’ Justin urged. ‘Just a few more strokes and she’ll be ready for anything.’

  Helen found herself obeying Justin, climbing on the bed to crouch between Sandra’s open thighs. Helen smelled the strong odour emanating from Sandra’s pussy; rich, spicy, intoxicating and familiar, even after all this time.

  Employing great care, she punished Sandra with the pliable end of the switch. One blow across each fleshy labial lip, one straight down the line of her sex, and a final stinging slap across her hungry clit. Sandra sounded close to a climax as she gave a sobbing gasp of surrender.

  ‘Now use this!’ Justin thrust the most unexpected of objects into her hand. Helen glanced down at it, almost laughing at the absurdity of the moment.

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Deadly. It works, try it,’ he told her. ‘Use the head, press it down hard on her clitoris.’

  Helen turned on the electric toothbrush, wincing slightly at the noisy buzz it made, watching the white and green head vibrate and rotate. Tentatively she applied the tips of the bristles to the sensitive hood of the tiny scarlet organ.

  The sensations drove Sandra insane. She thrashed about the bed, straining against her bonds until the ropes dug cruelly into her skin. Helen wondered if it could really feel that good, and she was tempted to try the brush on herself – but not here in front of Ben and
Justin, she wasn’t ready for something that outrageous just yet. Nevertheless part of her longed to experience those sharp little bristles brushing her pussy, scrubbing teasingly against her clit.

  The buzzing sound filled her ears, and Helen barely heard the sobbing moans of pleasure as she systematically applied the rotating bristles up and down Sandra’s open quim. She appeared close to her climax, and the temptation grew inside Helen until it became an all-consuming need. She discarded all pretence as she threw away the toothbrush and buried her face in the alluringly moist slit of Sandra’s pussy. It tasted musky and salty, acting like an aphrodisiac on her senses. Helen hungrily lapped at the dewy flesh, running the tip of her tongue up and down the narrow valley, before pausing to circle Sandra’s pert little bud. It was amazingly large and it stiffened just like a tiny prick, welcoming the adoration of Helen’s lips, as they encircled its root, nibbling and sucking until it grew even harder.

  Sandra cried out, wildly bucking her hips. Helen forced her to keep still by digging her fingers deep into the flesh of her inner thighs. She pulled the swollen lips even wider apart, stabbing her tongue into Sandra’s greedy cunt – teasing, circling, sucking, until her willing victim could hold back no longer.

  Helen felt Sandra’s stomach muscles contract as violent waves of ecstasy flooded her quim. It pulsed against Helen’s mouth and she was filled with the need to experience the delicious pleasures for herself.

  Justin seemed to sense what she was thinking immediately. Stepping behind Helen, he pressed the switch which turned on the tickler. The slender nodules of the sea anemone, which had been gently caressing her as she moved, burst into joyful life. The tiny fronds vibrated against her sensitive flesh with amazing speed, stimulating each nerve ending to its fullest extent. Helen was amazed that something so small could generate such blissful sensations.

  She tensed, thrusting her buttocks upwards, moving her face from Sandra’s pussy to press tender kisses on her still trembling stomach. Justin unbuckled the leather gusset, between Helen’s thighs, that held the clit tickler in place. She moaned with distress, not wanting to be denied the pleasurable sensations even though she was desperate to feel him inside her. Justin curved his arm around her, holding the tickler firmly against her pussy, yet letting the strap fall away from her sex. Helen felt his cock-head press hard against the entrance to her vagina, as she shivered, anticipating the singular delight of being forced to accommodate his uniquely embellished organ.