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Hell, I bet she wonders whether I’ll take advantage of her, or if I’ll force myself on her while I’m doing a checkup. She wonders whether or not she’ll have the mental strength to refuse my commands. If she’ll turn around and sprint far from this inappropriate situation.
Her expressive face reveals it all. Her concerns, her worry, her conflicting emotions.
Terrifiedwould be the word I’d use to describe her. A scared little lamb.
She wasn’t like this at the pool. She was confident even when she ran off, and the lack of it turns me on and annoys me in unison.
Prue nibbles on her bottom lip, and her eyes dart all over the room, and I both want to fix it and savor it.
Then again, I don’t feel like the man I was at the pool, either. There, I thrived on her willing submission. On her consent. She was beneath me and on top of me simultaneously, able to put a stop to everything by saying the word.
Here, she trembles. Here, she’s unsure.
I won’t hurt her. But I do get off on the concerns vibrating from her.
I want her to quiver for me every hour of every day. Me and no one else.
Is this why Dr. Jason Fox, the molesting, sexually assaulting fuck had done what he had for years? Blood rushed to his groin, his dick hard and his mind plotting on how to abuse them as he met them behind a desk?
My guess is yes and no.
That’s howhefelt. What turned him on. Innocent women to torment.
They could be anybody.
Prue isn’t just anybody to me. She sure as fuck isn’t an innocent patient, and I don’t plan to ruin her purely for my sadistic pleasure.
By the end of today, she’ll be satisfied too.
She already gave me her consent. Told me in so many words and actions that our attraction was mutual.
I don’t have a hard-on for any of my patients. My hunger isn’t for anyone’s fear.
If I still need any proof, I can find it in my fourteen years of practice. Whenever a woman showed signs of being uncomfortable around me, I got up and left.
No. This isn’t a twisted way of exerting my power over any woman.
My need, my desire, this kink that’s being turned on inside me as Prue hugs her middle, is for her.
For her, and her alone.
“Maybe this is a bad idea,” she starts when I take my seat, ankle on knee, and I stare at her silently. “It is, isn’t it?”
To turn up the fun level of our game a notch, I’m putting on a mask. No longer her dominant neighbor, I’m now Dr. Theodore Wentworth.
Since she’s going to act like a little lamb, I’m going to be the doctor to direct her toward safety. Toward an orgasm she’ll receive from these impersonal yet very invasive doctor’s hands.
“No.” I lower my foot to the floor, grab a pen and click it open. “You need to see a gynecologist. I’m a gynecologist. What happened on Friday stays outside these doors.”
It doesn’t.
By the look she’s giving me, she knows it. I sure as fuck know it.
Then again, that’s what’s getting me hard. And I bet if I cupped her pussy over her jeans, the heat emanating from her would burn my hand.
“M-my boss.” Prue catches herself stammering, and her jaw tics then sets into a harsh line.
Her body language tells me more about her, more than she’s willing to share. How even though she leans toward being a submissive in bed, she isn’t one on the outside.
