The Doctor and the Naughty Girl

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The Doctor and the Naughty Girl Page 15

by Evans, Trent


  Of all the questions he thought he’d be fielding from the curious, naive girl.

  “It’s what I am, and I accept it.” He touched her leg, for just a moment, but long enough to feel her muscles shiver. “I think what I am… is what you need. I want to see if I’m right—but you have to agree to have the courage to take that first step. It all depends on you.” He leaned forward, looking down at the concrete the bench sat upon. “But once you get a glimpse, once you see what your nature really is… there’s no turning back.”

  “How far does it go?”

  He met her gaze then, watching her a moment. She didn’t look away even though she’d gone pale, her lower lip trembling ever so slightly.

  “Far, Amity. Further than you’d ever consider.”

  Amity inhaled deeply, then licked those pink lips. “Try me.”

  * * *

  “You look fucking incredible,” Dane murmured, the orange firelight dancing in his eyes.

  The seating area surrounded a sunken fireplace on three sides, all of them commanding an incredible view of the city lights, far below. The restaurant had the feel of an elegant, intimate living room setting.

  “T-thank you.” Her twitching fingers plucked the burgundy napkin from the table, laying it across her thighs.

  “You don’t have to do that. They do that for you.”

  “Oh.”

  Amity felt distinctly out of place, regardless of her little faux pas of etiquette. The navy micro-mini she’d picked out just made it worse. Fitting tighter than she’d remembered it the last time, she thought it made her thighs look fat, but the hemline was so high she didn’t have any thigh highs that wouldn’t show. And she just knew instinctively that nylons would’ve met with Dane’s extreme disapproval.

  We can’t have your lord and master displeased can we, slut?

  The looks she got from almost every man she walked by both emboldened her and made her want to run and hide. Normally, she enjoyed turning men on, given the right environment. Here though? Completely out of her element, she’d walked through the dining areas trying to ignore the murmurs and quiet laughter as she walked by other tables. Amity felt distinctly like a lost little girl.

  And then she’d found him, reclining in a booth, his suit coat so dark it seemed to absorb what little light was cast by the candles and the fireplace. His smile made her heart gallop, the straight white teeth set off brilliantly by the tan of his face, the sparkling, avid gaze.

  The waiter appeared, and before she could say anything—or even ask for a menu—Dane had ordered for her, a French dish she couldn’t even pronounce, let alone tell anyone what it actually was.

  “What did you order for me? I can order myself.”

  He glanced at her, a wry smile at the corners of his mouth. “You’ll like it.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Trust me, Amity.”

  Damn him, but he’d been right. They ate then and he’d let her grill him about all the things she’d wondered. How he got into medicine. The grossest delivery experience he’d ever had. Had he ever found himself attracted to a patient?

  For that one, she’d earned a warning scowl and a muttered, “Watch it.”

  What kind of woman his mother was. Did he have any brothers or sisters? He had two brothers—which surprised her, as she’d never seen pictures of them in his office.

  While they talked, Amity shoveled in an embarrassing amount of food, despite—or because of—her nerves. Eventually, she ran out of ways to fill the silence, her questions growing too inane—and personal—to even dare utter. She found herself staring in silence, her gaze torn between looking over her shoulder at the panorama of the city lights below, and looking upon the beautiful man who sat across the table from her.

  Dane put down his fork, reaching across the table to grasp her hand. “Come here.”

  He pulled her around until she was sitting next to him, their thighs touching, ensconced in the most shadowed corner of the big booth, hidden from the other diners, looking upon the night city below. The moon had risen, big and bright, its reflection on the river below rendering the waters a flowing, ghostly white.

  “Do you know what you’re doing, Amity?”

  She looked over at him, surprised by the question. “No. Maybe.”

  “Clear as usual,” he said, shaking his head. His hand found her bare thigh, squeezing it in a possessive grip. “I know you don’t. That’s why I brought you here tonight. So you’d understand.”

  I understand I want you to take me home and fuck my brains out.

  “Do you know who I am, what I am?”

  “I think so. I mean, it’s pretty clear.” She couldn’t help the blush that surged up her neck, heating her cheeks. She lowered her voice, petrified someone would hear. “You like… to be in charge.”

  “Completely,” he said, that hand stroked slowly up her thigh. She widened her legs to his approving murmur, unable to help herself, her panties already soaked.

  “Are you aware of what kink is?”

  “Yes, of course.” Hearing him say that word out loud was jarring, though she didn’t understand why.

  “Don’t ‘of course’ me, girl.” His hand squeezed her thigh, hard, and her teeth gritted at the pinch. “Respect and politeness. Remember?”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “I see it in you, Amity. Your need to please, your curiosity about what it can lead to. But I see that defiance in you too.” He turned toward her, lifting her chin on a finger, his gaze bright, the line of his jaw stern. “You’re going to need to decide what it is you’re really prepared to do, if you want to be with me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “If we go further with this, with a relationship, there’s more you need to know.”

  A relationship. He does want more!

  Amity’s heart soared, and she barely managed to avoid ‘squee’ing like a twelve-year-old.

  He continued. “I live a twenty-four–seven life, as a doctor. And I expect twenty-four–seven submission from my woman.”

  “Okay. You want me to—” she had to force her lips to form the word, “—obey you. All the time.”

  “Yes.”

  Amity took a deep breath, her sex heating hotter by the second, his hand now fully under the hem of her skirt. “Okay, I can do that.”

  Really? Signing up to be a lapdog now?

  It wasn’t really that though, was it? He didn’t expect her to be… that into it. Did he?

  “I don’t think you understand yet.” He squeezed her chin firmly, holding her gaze. Her pulse pounded at her neck. “Some of what I’ll ask you, require of you. It will hurt, and you won’t always like it.”

  Oh, shit.

  “I don’t… please don’t hurt me.”

  His glare softened just a tiny bit. “I’m not going to hurt you. At least nothing past what you can bear. But if you decide you want this, I’ll push you. Those boundaries you think you have? I’ll test them, stretch them. And you’ll want me to. Is that something you think you can handle?”

  Amity swallowed hard, her nipples so hard the lace of her bra felt like course grain sandpaper.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The prospect scared her—but it turned her on even more. She knew right then what it was. She didn’t want a man who did what she expected, what she predicted. She needed a man who’d take her places she didn’t even realize existed yet—and who wouldn’t let her manipulate her way out of things once she learned what was really in store for her.

  “I expect total submission, Amity. This isn’t some sugar-kink fantasy from a romance novel. I’m not the hero who’ll melt in your hands, who’ll bow to your desires. You’ll bow to mine—in every way.” He squeezed her chin harder, drawing her closer so that his dark eyes took up all of her vision. “Do you understand what that means?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Panic danced at the edges of her consciousness. It would be so easy to succumb to it, to run yet again, to
flee to that safe, boring, dead life she knew. She wasn’t going to pass this up, even as the prospect of what might lay ahead terrified her.

  He let go of her chin, caressing the line of her jaw with the backs of his fingers.

  “You’re such a brave girl. A good girl.”

  “I’m scared shi—” his eyes narrowed, “—I’m really scared. Sir.”

  Dane frowned and opened his suit coat to pull out his phone. “Damn. Another of Dr. Vance’s. Woman picked a helluva time to go on vacation.”

  “Do you have to go?”

  “In a few minutes, yeah.”

  She saw something in his gaze then. It was just the briefest of moments, then it was gone.

  “What happened to her… to your girlfriend? I’m sorry if…” She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to know the answer, or if it even mattered, but the way he’d warned her, the grave sternness in his expression—it made her wonder. Please, God, tell me the man isn’t still in love with her.

  “No—it’s okay. It’s… we should’ve talked about this. My girlfriend—her name was Stephanie—she was the same as you. At least I thought so at the time. I thought I had her figured out down to her DNA. She was submissive—she had to be. But one day, she decided she didn’t have what it took to meet my need for control, my need to dominate her. She said she could never be as extreme as I needed.” Dane pursed his lips. “She left. We’d been engaged for five months.”

  “Oh, Jesus, Dane, I’m sorry.” She clutched his hand then, squeezing it in both of hers, knowing she’d probably have a hot bottom for letting that curse slip. Her heart broke a little for him then as she saw the one thing she’d never seen in those hazel eyes before.

  Pain.

  “Dane, sir.” She wiped a tear that had gathered at the corner of her eye. “I’m not her. I… want to try. I want to be what you need. I don’t know how to do this.” Looking down, she took a deep breath. Then she met his gaze once more. “But I want to learn. I want to do this.”

  Dane stood, beaming at her then. He reached out and touched her cheek and she held it to her face, kissing his hand.

  “We have to go, Amity.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we. You don’t think I’m letting you drive home by yourself, do you? I’m going to follow you.”

  She stood, grabbing her purse and smoothing down the skirt his hand had pushed scandalously high, his appreciative glance up and down her body making her blush again.

  “You don’t need to do that, Dane.” She whispered it. “Sir.”

  “Oh, yes, I do—and you’d better get used to it. I take care of what’s mine.”

  His.

  Her pussy tightened so hard she almost moaned with it. It was going to be a long night.

  As they walked out the front doors, the bracing night air filling their lungs, Dane looked back at her.

  “Don’t forget, you’ve got your appointment on Friday.” He stopped, drawing her against him with a squeeze of her skirt-clad bottom. “And don’t even think about touching that cunt tonight.”

  “What?”

  “If you do, you’ll tell me tomorrow. And you’ll be punished for it.”

  Yes, it was going to be a very long night indeed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Amity knocked on Dane’s front door, scanning behind her, looking for his truck. Nothing, except a black SUV driving past. She remembered seeing that same one on her first visit. Probably a neighbor. Fortunately, they didn’t stop to chat.

  It was a cold, clear night, the fallen leaves coating everything. She pulled her coat tighter around her, looking through one of his front windows to see if she could see anyone.

  The door opened, the porch lights flipping on, bathing the entire porch in bright warm light.

  “Come in.” Dane stood in shadow beyond the threshold of the door.

  She walked in, wondering if he’d forgotten about the promised—and dreaded—medical exam. She sure as hell wasn’t going to remind him about it. If she were a very lucky girl she’d get a very hard pounding, and some snuggling, and the entire medical exam thing might just slip his mind!

  The door closed behind her, and she was enshrouded in near darkness, only the streetlights from outside dimly illuminating the living room. Dane pulled her into his arms, his eyes bright in the darkness.

  “Go back to the exam room and wait for me. When I get there, I want to see you naked and bent over the exam table. Ass high, head down. Do you understand?”

  Oh, fuck.

  His home office exam room. He hadn’t forgotten a thing! She tried to stall, maybe talk her way out of it. If the second exam was anything like the first, she was quite certain the shame would cause her to spontaneously combust.

  Or drip all over his floor.

  “Dane, why are we doing this? You already examined me. The tests all came back normal.”

  His eyes flashed, his grip on her upper arms tightening. “I’ll examine you anytime I think you need it. Right now, we’re doing it simply because I want to. I don’t need any other reason.” He spun her around so she faced toward the hallway, and he smacked her butt, hard, the thin skirt doing nothing to lessen the sting. “Get your ass in there and wait for me. We’ve got a lot to do tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Her heart sank even as her nipples pebbled, the walk down the darkened hallway increasing the confusing mixture of dread and excitement. She could see light coming from under the door, the brightness dazzling her as she opened it.

  The exam table had several small lights directly illuminating it. In one corner was something she hadn’t noticed before—a square section of neat white tiled floor, with a small raised lip about six inches above the floor that followed the perimeter of the tile. The walls of that corner were covered in that same small white tile.

  A gleaming shower fixture extended over the tiled area, several accessories and hoses hanging from it. On a shelf on the wall next to the exam table she saw a suspicious length of rubber tubing attached to a black nozzle-like apparatus. Hanging from a hook off the edge of the shelf was what looked to be an empty IV fluid bag. Next to it on that same shelf, were several sizes of oblong pieces of stainless steel.

  Oh, my fucking God. Butt plugs!

  Her frightened gaze took in the roll-around tray, festooned with leather straps, buckles, manacles, and belts. She even saw a thick, black ball gag. Along another wall hung a long varnished board from which projected a row of hooks extending its entire length. Every tool of corporal punishment she could think of—and even a few she’d never seen before—hung from those hooks.

  You are in trouble, Amity.

  Of course, as usual, her body didn’t seem to have gotten the memo. Her nipples were hard enough to cut granite, her pussy so wet, her juices had begun to slicken her inner thighs.

  Dane’s voice echoed down the hallway. “Two minutes, Amity. If I get in there and you’re not ready, you won’t like the consequences.”

  Amity shrugged off her skirt and peeled off her long-sleeved top. She dropped her bra and panties on top of her skirt, leaving them in a pile next to the exam table. Thankfully the room was quite warm, though that did nothing to alleviate her already throbbing hard nipples.

  She laid her forearms on the exam bench, taking one last look at that IV bag before laying her head down.

  Seconds later the door opened and closed behind her, the air whispering over her exposed buttocks. She heard the tearing open of paper or cardboard, and the sound of water pouring. The pleasant scent of his aftershave overlaid it all. She started to look back, the deep quelling noise from Dane snapping her head back where it was. This intensity was something she’d never seen in him before.

  “You stay just like that—face forward, Amity. When I tell you to do something, you do it. Any questions?”

  “No, sir.”

  Part of her hated how she instantly fell into line, her need to obey him and please him overruling everything, his harsh commands seeming
to short-circuit her defiance, her clit and nipples standing at attention as if his voice commanded their responses too.

  Amity yelped as his cool hands grasped her buttocks, yawning them open. His fingertip coursed down the divide and she instinctively flinched.

  “No, no. Don’t tighten.” The heels of his hands pushed against her buttocks. “Relax them. More, come on, Amity.”

  Reluctantly, she obeyed, his tone of approval making her smile even as she blushed at the view of her he now had. Again the finger stroked down between her cheeks, but she stayed open to him, the finger stroking and circling the sensitive ring of her anus.

  “I want you to clench and unclench your bottom hole, Amity.”

  “W-what?”

  “Squeeze it tight, then bear down and push out. I want to see how your control is.”

  He can’t be fucking serious.

  “I can’t… do that. Sir.”

  “Yes, you can.” He squeezed one cheek. “Do you need a couple of reminders to do as you’re told?”

  “I-I just can’t.”

  The mortification was so much she knew she couldn’t will her body to do it.

  “Answer my question, girl.”

  “Yes, sir, I do…”

  He walked over to the rack, pausing a moment to select an implement, then returning back behind her. She didn’t dare look to see what he’d chosen.

  The hard, thin line of the cane came down so quickly at first she wasn’t sure he’d actually struck her, but then the burn-ache sank into her bottom and she yelped. Another stroke immediately followed, just below the first, and this time she cried out, both fiery lines merging into one thick band of hurt across both clenching buttocks. His fingers investigated the already swelling, tightening marks.

  “Okay, Amity. I don’t want to give you any more if I don’t have to. Can you obey me now?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  There was no way in hell she was going to do anything that would get her more of that evil fucking cane. She’d heard about what the cane felt like, had been titillated by the fantasy descriptions of it in fiction, but none of it had prepared her for just how much it hurt.

 

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