AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The doctor again nodded to Angine, who affixed the same clothespins she'd already been subject to more often than not, only never over nipples that were also under the effects of that horrible pepper balm.
Amid her howls, Dr. Brackett reached into that same jar and brought out two fingers covered with it that he then applied to her clit.
After allowing that to sit for what seemed like forever to Darcy, who was mindless from the burning, he changed gloves and squirted out a small amount of KY and applied his fingers to that same spot—it was still hard and swollen as it had been since he'd begun with her. Despite what was being done to her—or more likely because of it—that had never wavered, and he had a feeling that, even after this evening, she was going to be standing just as proud.
She couldn't help what she liked, and he was more than willing to give it to her. In spades.
Eventually, he began to move those fingers over that tiny mound, splitting them around it sometimes, but usually riding on the top of it. At first, Darcy couldn't feel anything but the agonizing torture of the unguent, but then what he was doing to her—and also his stated intent—overcame the discomfort, and suddenly, her head was whipping back and forth because she felt as if she was going to explode, not because he was whipping her behind, or spreading her bottom hole wide open, or torturing her nipples, but because of all of the combined torture and teasing sessions when she'd been left wanting, physically aching, for release.
His fingers were relentless on her clit, rubbing, pinching slightly sometimes, frigging her constantly but at a damnably slow pace. His eyes were riveted on her as her body tried to writhe and heave with the sensations he was causing—pure pleasure, for once, but still pleasure earned through pain and embarrassment and submission.
Darcy's world consisted of those points on her body that he had consciously affected and his fingers. And when it began to build up—that undeniable wave of ecstasy—she became frightened, but he didn't give her any choice but to try to deal with it. He retained complete control of her body, and he never changed or stopped or slowed his rhythm in the least, even when he heard that raw, throaty growl begin deep in her chest until it tried to come out her wide-open mouth. She had already exhausted the extent of her voice, but he knew she was screaming with it, with a peak that was too much for her, that was so obviously, rawly mind-blowing, because, seconds later, she fainted.
He had thought that might happen to a woman who was as obviously sensual and sexual as she was, so he was prepared and had the nurse waving smelling salts under her nose almost immediately, and once she was brought around, he continued the exact same rhythm.
At first, Darcy had wanted him to never stop, but then she wanted him desperately to stop. She was so sensitive, she thought that if he didn't, she might out and out die from it.
But she was wrong, and he was right. All she did was continue to orgasm, sometimes lighter, sometimes much harder, as he manipulated her body to his liking, forcing more explosions from her than anyone could count until he finally allowed her to collapse.
He dismissed the staff and the three of them were alone again as they usually were. Darcy was surprised at how gently the two of them treated her, washing her like a baby, dressing her, and even taking her home. The doctor refused to allow her to drive—her legs were shaking so badly she could barely stand. He got her keys from her and delivered her car to her himself, later that evening.
And when she awoke the next morning, not having remembered even how she had gotten into bed the night before, she found an envelope on her nightstand with the doctor's bold handwriting on it. Inside was a check made out to her. A bonus check, for nine thousand dollars.
A thousand for each month she had been denied.
Part II
Tit for Tat
Chapter 6
How could she possibly have stayed at this job for this long, Darcy asked herself as the belt rose and fell across the swollen hillocks of her behind. She had to have some kind of mental deficit. There was something severely wrong with her. There had to be, or she would have quit long since.
But the money—ah, the money. That was the rub. Especially when she'd discovered that it was possible to make even more than that extremely generous salary that the doctor paid his staff.
He had doubled it up this time, so she was getting twice the emphasis as each thwack landed, and this time, she wasn't the only one on the hot seat—or getting one, rather.
Her old tormenter, Nurse Crawford, was just as naked as she was, also standing on her tiptoes with her wrists bound together then looped over a hook that she had never seen before in the mirrored wall that was just tall enough to make sure they had no choice but to dance like that through the entire punishment, never quite able to stretch far enough to gain release as the stiff leather rose and fell in a terrible rhythm that had each of them howling from the start.
"Did I say you could touch her in any manner other than to discipline her or measure just how wet she was, Nurse Crawford?" the doctor asked angrily.
It was obvious that Angine wasn't used to being on the other side of the belt. "N-no, sir!" she nearly screamed.
The doctor liked to lecture as he whipped. "Then why would you do that? You skewed the results of your own and, therefore, my research! It will all have to be repeated at great cost to me—in time and expense—to say nothing of the cost to Darcy."
That had Darcy wailing right along with her, not that she wasn't already from the stripes he was laying down on her ass. Repeated? The money she had received at the end of what had been nine long months of sexual torture had been a nice reward—and totally unexpected—but she wasn't at all sure she could tolerate another nine months—especially since there was no guarantee that he'd keep it that length. A year had been bandied about before, and she was even less interested in that.
But then, the way she was treated hadn't inspired her to quit immediately—or even after a very public culmination either, and nothing had really changed much except that, now, there were even more people who were authorized to spank, paddle, tawse or otherwise correct and/or humiliate her, since the doctor had deputized most of the staff. Perhaps there would be a silver lining to this, after all. If he couldn't trust Angine, maybe he'd reconsider letting so many people discipline her.
And now there were two others who were on the lowest rung with her, and one of them appeared—at least right now—to be her former tormentor, although there was no telling how long that was going to last.
"I-I'm s-sorry, sir!" Nurse Crawford wept.
"No, I don't think so. Not yet, but I promise you, you will be."
That sent a shiver up Darcy's spine, and then, suddenly, he turned his malevolent attention to her.
"And you—Darcy—you should have told me what was going on. I know that neither of you ever heard anything from me about her being allowed to pleasure you in any way, and you should have told me."
