The Doctor and the Naughty Girl Page 9

  “I have an after-hours practice.” He tilted his head, pursing his lips. “It’s something I do for the clients who can’t drive into town. Or those with special, uh, requirements.”

  Requirements?

  “Okay, um, why the worry about keeping my mouth shut though? I mean, I will, don’t worry about that…”

  He stared at her for several seconds. “The medical group I’m a part of… doesn’t approve of, uh, moonlighting.”

  She smiled, unable to help herself. It made her strangely… happy, to know he’d trust her with something like this. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt it just the same.

  “Secret’s safe with me. Sir.”

  His eyes narrowed as if considering something, then he gave her a quick quirk of his lips. “You’ll need to be there in case I need help with records, or to assist with a patient.”

  “Wouldn’t that be something Cathie would…?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry, no nursing duties for you. It’s more of a just in case I need another set of hands. Easy duty.”

  “Oh.” That didn’t sound so bad. She’d take the easy money wherever she could get it. Maybe she’d actually be able to pay Kaitlyn back for once.

  Yeah, right, bitch. Gonna take a lot more than a couple of hours of time and a half to get you out the hole you’re in.

  Okay, maybe not. She was behind on more than one bill, her phone being the most delinquent. At least this would help her stay above water. For a while.

  “I’ll text you later and let you know when to show up.” Dane opened the door to the hallway back to Exam.

  “Sir?”

  He turned back, that sly smile back on his too-handsome face. “Amity?”

  “What is this place?” She held up her phone, his text still on the screen. “Basically farms out there, right? Is this a new office park or hospital campus?”

  “Neither,” he said, shouldering the door aside and heading back down the hallway. “It’s my house.”

  * * *

  “You sure she’s ready for this, Dane?”

  Aaron stroked his wife’s jet black hair as she knelt at his feet, her leash tight in his fist. She was almost thirty weeks along. Her large, round belly, encased in a tight, form-fitting gray knit top—the only clothing her husband and master allowed her for this appointment—protruded over her still trim thighs, her naked bottom posed upon her bare heels. Dane was surprised at the intense level his friends Aaron and Lis were still able to maintain in their marriage this late into her first pregnancy.

  Lis leaned against Aaron’s long leg, nuzzling her temple against his thigh. “Throwing her into the deep end, aren’t you?”

  Dane shrugged. “I’d rather know, right now. If she freaks, then it’s better for both of us to get it out of the way up front.” He smiled at the beautiful tattooed and pierced PhD kneeling at her husband’s knee. “It’s not like I’m expecting her to lead the kind of life you do, Lis.”

  “Not yet anyway. I know how deep your depravity really goes, doctor.” Her impish smile made Dane want to hug her tight—or take a crop to her bottom. He knew Aaron would recommend both.

  Aaron snapped a quelling look at his wife, pulling her leash a little tighter. “I don’t think that’s how we agreed you’d speak to your doctor, is it?”

  Lis’ smile faded, and she kissed Aaron’s knee. “No, master. I’m sorry.”

  Aaron looked to Dane, offering him the leash. “Be my guest. She hasn’t been spanked in a while, and she needs it, obviously. Looks like I’ve been going soft on her.”

  Even as he offered Dane a chance to spank his own wife—and slave—Dane could see the love and adoration in Aaron’s eyes as he looked upon the kneeling Lis.

  Lis’ eyes, wide with fright—and perhaps a little illicit anticipation—looked up to Dane.

  “Nope.” Dane smiled reassuringly at Lis, then glanced at Aaron. “Just a check-up tonight. The rest is up to you.”

  “She’s far enough along now, I can’t really give her what she deserves.” Aaron went back to stroking her hair, the sudden tension in her body relaxing slightly. “But she knows better, and since you were the target of her smart mouth, you should be the one to punish her for it. Once the little one comes, and she’s back to normal, think about it, okay, Dane?”

  Lis swallowed, clutching her master’s leg tight now.

  “Of course, Aaron.”

  In truth, as bewitching as the little pocket Venus kneeling at her husband’s feet was, all Dane could think about was who he really wanted to spank, who he really wanted to possess. The girl who was even now on her way over, completely unaware of what awaited her.

  Amity.

  This was important though, and not for the first time, he was grateful for two friends who understood—and were willing to go to these kind of lengths to help him out.

  “You still sure she’s okay with this?” Dane purposely addressed Aaron, despite the subject of his query being right there in the room with them.

  Aaron grunted. “Are you kidding? Her cunt’s gotta be dripping by now.” Aaron looked down at the dark hair clutched in his hand. “You know how much she likes being on display.”

  Lis blushed fiercely, burying her face against her husband’s legs.

  Dane stood, hand extended toward the examination table. “Shall we? Might as well get her ready while we wait for Amity.”

  “Make them tight,” Aaron said, a glint in his dark eyes. “I know she’s been thinking about it all day.”

  Dane grinned as he took Lis’ hand. “I think I can accommodate her.”

  In moments, Lis was on her back, her feet high and wide in the stirrups. Between the tight black straps drawn across her chest, her round, swollen breasts rose and fell rapidly, her body tied fast to the table.

  Dane handed the black gag over to Aaron. “Take care of this for me?”

  It was the big one, and he knew it would tickle the back of Lis’ throat if her husband strapped it tight.

  Aaron always strapped gags tight.

  Soon, they had her utterly immobile, gagged, and blindfolded, her breathing regular but rapid. ‘Tolerably frightened’ as he knew Aaron was fond of saying of his slave wife.

  Dane cranked the table upward into a gentle incline, mindful that women as far along as Lis often had trouble with lying flat on their backs for any length of time.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket and he fished it out. Aaron was stroking the broad curve of Lis’ belly, murmuring to her as Dane turned away, connecting the call.

  “You here?”

  “I—think so.” Her voice held a note of anxiousness that he enjoyed. “Is that your black SUV out front?”

  “Hmm, no.”

  Aaron drove a big white four-wheel-drive pickup.

  “This is the house number though.” Amity paused. “Okay, weird, SUV’s pulling away now.”

  Dane walked to the window, thumbing up a slat of the blinds. It was a truck, a Ford, he hadn’t seen before, but it was already too far away to get a look at who it might be. Probably nothing.

  “Come on in,” Dane said, hanging up and dropping the phone back into his pocket.

  He walked back over to the bound and waiting Lis, and sat down on his chair situated between the woman’s outstretched legs.

  Dane’s cock was already hard.

  The door opened, then closed with a tentative thud. He gave Aaron a smile before craning his head back over his shoulder. “Down the hall! Last door, Amity.”

  Lis tensed as Dane spread open Lis’ pussy, noting the new rings in her outer labia had healed nicely. Her husband had ordered them as celebration of her pregnancy. They’d likely have to come out for delivery, but for now, they were gorgeous.

  “Relax, now,” Dane said, slipping the speculum in. Lis sighed as he began to open it up.

  He loved how hesitant the sounds of Amity’s footsteps were on the creaking wood floor of the hallway. Then the door opened, just as he was leaning over to get a cl
oser look at Lis’ cervix.

  Amity gasped. “Oh—Oh, my God, I’m so sorry—”

  Dane looked back at her, pointing at the instrument tray laid out on a table next to Lis’ left side. “Will you hand me that light there?”

  All three of them froze, Dane and Aaron watching Amity, the whole room silent, as if even sound hinged upon her reaction.

  She stepped forward, slowly, her eyes darting from the bound Lis to Dane and back again. Her cheeks had colored a little, but he didn’t see horror in her wide-eyed gaze. He saw embarrassment, and something else that made him want to yell out in triumphant joy.

  Curiosity.

  Her fingers trembled so much he thought she might drop the light as she handed it to him.

  Dane went to work, checking Lis’ cervix. “Nope, only a little effacing. Everything’s looking good.”

  He withdrew the speculum to a tiny intake of breath from the bound patient, a whispered, barely audible admonishment from Aaron to his wife.

  Dane looked at Amity as he held up the speculum and light, nodding toward the tray. “Right there’s fine.”

  Amity seemed rooted to her spot for a moment, then she locked gazes with him and snapped back into motion, setting the tools down and backing away a step. He watched her for a few seconds. She couldn’t peel her eyes from the bound Lis.

  Aaron cleared his throat. “Um, who’s this, doctor?”

  Dane wiped a palm across his mouth, hiding his smile. “Aaron, I have to apologize. I—forgot to tell my assistant here that we were conducting an exam. Please forgive me.” He held a hand up. “Amity? This is Aaron Rivas and his wife—”

  “Slave.” Aaron looked down at Lis, stroking a finger over her gagged lips, the women making a small contented sound.

  “Sorry—slave—Lis.”

  “Hi,” Amity said, her voice like a frightened mouse. But still she didn’t flee.

  “Nice to meet you, Amity.”

  Dane exchanged a glance with Aaron, then they both gazed back at Amity.

  “Oh!” Amity looked away, a hand to her cheek. “I’m sorry—I… I’ll be in the other room. If you need me.”

  Then she was gone.

  Aaron unsnapped the gag, wiping Lis’ lips as he pulled it away. She flexed her jaw, then raised her head.

  “I felt like a total piece of meat for Miss Curious there.”

  “You must accept my apologies, Mrs. Rivas,” Dane said, barely able to keep a straight face.

  “Stop apologizing,” the glassy-eyed beauty said, laying her head back down. Her smile was ear to ear. “I loved it.”

  * * *

  The room was so quiet Amity swore her pounding heart had to be actually audible. Fortunately, she was alone.

  The living room was sparsely furnished—as she’d have expected from a single guy. Wood floors and modern, if basic, furniture. The one unusual feature was the real wood stove, the wrought-iron tongs and poker reminding her of medieval torture devices. Imagining them being worked upon the bodies of the helpless naked bodies of the ‘witches.’

  Try to get your mind out of the gutter.

  It was just about impossible though, considering what she’d seen in that room. She couldn’t get the vision of it out of her mind. The stretch of the woman’s lips around the gag, the way the husband’s fingers stroked possessively over his wife’s hair.

  And all the piercings! My God.

  The woman had studs through her nipples, a thick curved one through the hood of her clit that even now made Amity squeeze her thighs together. Several gleaming rings adorned the plump, bare labia too. She’d even had a hoop through one nostril. Amity wondered if that cute little belly button had been pierced too before she’d swollen with the child.

  The door opened and absurdly, she stood up from her seat on the couch, holding her hands against her thighs lest they see how badly they shook.

  The three of them walked down the hallway, passing by the living room on the way out the door. The woman glanced Amity’s way as they passed, a little wave of her hand and a pretty smile giving Amity a small bit of relief. Walking in on the exam had been mortifying enough… but what she’d seen in there had been something else entirely.

  She’d been shocked, yes, but it had fascinated her too. She’d read about… couples like that. But maybe she’d thought such a thing, a dynamic like that, only existed in fiction, in fantasy?

  There was nothing fictional about that beautiful half-naked woman bound, gagged, and blindfolded in that room.

  The front door closed, and then he stood there, watching her from the tiled foyer with those too-keen hazel eyes. His hands were in his pockets, his normal button-downs and slacks exchanged for faded jeans and a snug, long-sleeved black shirt that did absolutely nothing to hide the man’s unexpectedly muscular physique. Who knew bringing babies into the world could make a man so brawny?

  “Have a seat, Amity. I’m sure you’ve got some questions.” He disappeared for a minute

  She sat, but only on the edge of the cushion, her mind still stuck in adapt-on-the-fly mode, readying her body to flee at a moment’s notice, if need be. Dane came back in with two dark bottles in his hand.

  “You want one? All I’ve got in the fridge is light beer.”

  “Yes, please.” She took it quickly, thankful he’d popped the bottle cap she was sure would have thwarted her shaking hands’ attempts to remove. She took two long drags from her bottle, the beer cold and surprisingly good.

  Dane took the chair across from the couch, next to the stove.

  “I can count on your discretion, can’t I?” His eyebrow arched, his lips drawing from his bottle. She remembered what those lips felt like… on her.

  “I—of course, doctor.”

  “Dane.”

  Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “Dane—sorry.”

  “Why are you apologizing to me?”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  It was the way he sat there in that chair, calm, his gaze fixed upon her. It was as if he were a great cat, circling cornered prey, waiting, watching, ready to move in for the kill at her slightest movement.

  Get it the fuck together, Amity.

  “What… was that? In there?”

  “You mean Aaron and Lis?”

  She nodded, not wanting to chance her voice would break on any further words.

  “They are a twenty-four–seven couple. Master and slave.” He drank from his bottle again, his prominent Adam’s apple moving as he swallowed. “They come here because, well, they have special needs.”

  “Like being tied down to the exam table.”

  “Among others, yes.”

  “Why… would they want that?”

  His shoulder lifted. “People who live like Aaron and Lis—they don’t want to hide who they are. It’s as important to them as the air they breathe. And when you live that kind of life, it’s just… easier to have a doctor who gets it, who accepts it for what it is. A lot of doctors wouldn’t understand, or worse, might suspect abuse or coercion.”

  “But you wouldn’t.”

  He shook his head, his eyes narrowing. “Why don’t you come out and say what you’re thinking, Amity?”

  “Because I… don’t even know what I think.”

  And she didn’t. Was it smart to tell this man that she couldn’t help but stare at the bright red shaved pussy? At the glint of the gold rings through the labia? Should she tell him that her panties were so wet she was afraid she’d leave a wet spot on his never-used couch?

  “I’m—” Dane waved his bottle in front of him, “—part of the community, you could say.”

  “You mean, into… what they’re into?”

  “A form of it, yes. Or I was, anyway.”

  Don’t do it, Amity.

  But the words tumbled out before she could reel them back in.

  “But you’re not anymore?”

  “Since my girlfriend left, no. I’ve been—on the bench, I suppose.”

  Amity winced, looking
away.

  Well done, idiot.

  “I’m sorry, Dane. I didn’t mean…”

  “Nothing to be sorry for. Happens.” He drank down the remains of his beer, leaning over to the side and setting the bottle atop the wood stove.

  She’d already cracked that can open—might as well finish the job. Her curiosity was going to get her ass in a sling. Again.

  “Was she, um, like you?”

  “Kinky?” He smiled, his eyes betraying anything but amusement. “Some, yes. But not enough, I guess. That’s what she’d tell you, if you asked.”

  For that briefest of moments, she’d seen it. Something she’d never expected to see in the cool gaze of her implacable doctor, and now occasional disciplinarian.

  Pain.

  Time to get away from this. She wasn’t ready—and neither was he.

  “Are those the only ones?”

  Dane shook his head. “Aaron and Lis are friends, so I help them out. They make me charge them, though I wouldn’t if I could get away with it. There are a few others though.”

  “How many? More like them?”

  She hadn’t said it, but they both knew what she meant. The extreme ones. The masters and slaves, the people who actually lived what she’d only read in the dirtiest of dirty smut books on her e-reader.

  One of many books, you mean.

  “There are a couple of more couples like them.” Dane’s fingers played with the gold-tipped handle of the fire poker. “A few others more like us.”

  Amity’s heart flip-flopped. “What? What do you mean?”

  Oh, but she knew.

  “People like you and me.” His long finger sent the poker swinging on the hook it hung from. “Not master/slave, but definitely kinky. Those of us who enjoy… discipline in our lives.”

  “I don’t…”

  Dane sat forward then, leaning his elbows on his thighs. “You don’t need to do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Deny what you want. What you need.”

  Her face flamed hot now, and she knew he could see it, his lips curving in a knowing smile.

  Dammit.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” She firmed her chin. “You tell me. What do I need?”

  “Discipline. Accountability. And one more thing, something you still haven’t had the courage to admit to yourself.”