Trust Me, I'm a DoctorbyJulianWinslow©
The slim blonde in the white lab coat sat behind the receptionist's desk. Her pony-tailed head was tilted down as she sat scanning the names on the clipboard before her. Sometimes it seemed to her, that just about everybody in Hollywood eventually found their way to the Fontana Clinic. Joyce was used to seeing celebrity names on the list, but at one she stopped dead...and stared...unable to believe her eyes!
Sure enough, third down on the list of scheduled new arrivals sat the name of her hated nemesis -- none other than that stuck-up bitch herself: Ellicia Wellsley! Seeing that name brought up all the old feelings of bitter resentment against the woman who had ruined her career before it even got started. It was all because of a few catty remarks she and Brenda had exchanged one day in the chorus girls' changing room. She later found out the nosy bitch had snuck in through the back hallway, because she liked watching the girls change into their street clothes.
And she must have gotten an earful! All the girls hated the haughty lead dancer who was the current queen of the Vegas strip and around whom the whole extravagant show had been built. But Joyce and Brenda had a running joke going about their "super-star," and the not-too-subtle attempts she made to bed every girl in the company. Watching from behind a bank of lockers, Ellicia must have overheard the two young dancers laughing, and flushed with humiliation when she realized their giggling was aimed at her!
They could only guess what she might have overheard, but the next day both girls were called in the office and unceremoniously dumped from the cast. The rumor mill had it that Ms Wellsley was not amused; she wanted them gone -- out of her sight! But not content with seeing to it that Joyce lost her job, along with her first real big break, the vindictive bitch then made a few phone calls. Joyce found she was frozen out, no longer welcomed at any of the casting calls along the strip. Defeated and discouraged, Joyce left Vegas for the coast, eventually ending up working at Harlan Royce's exclusive clinic hidden away in the Hollywood hills. It turned out to be great job, and the fact that she had a handsome and always randy boss, who hired her to be his personal assistant by day and perform other duties at night -- that Joyce considered that a big plus.
Now she couldn't believe her luck. Fate had actually dumped the arrogant bitch into her hands! Immediately she began plotting her revenge. Joyce would need Harlan's help, but that should be no problem. Of course, Harlan knew her sad tale. She had poured out her heart to him over Margaritas one day after work, before they ended up at his place. Yes, he knew all about of her hatred for Ellicia Wellsley; it even amused him.
She started to get up to go to his office, but then she caught herself. No, this was not something to talk about when Harlan was getting ready to greet his new guests. Much better to wait till this evening. Once she got him in bed, Joyce found her boss was always a lot more pliable, especially after she worked him over for an hour or so in that big circular bed of his.
And so Joyce's plan began to unfold, as she stood watching with grim satisfaction while the clinic's gleaming white limo delivered the wicked witch right on to her very doorstep. Harlan was out in driveway to greet the new arrival of course. Joyce saw those beautiful long legs unfold as, with the grace of a high fashion model, her majesty arose to her full impressive height, lifting a well-manicured hand to be helped out of her chariot. The obsequious staff rushed out to whisk away Madam's luggage, as Harlan escorted his latest guest to her private chalet. Joyce watched the familiar elegant figure in those high heels saunter down the pathway, and she couldn't help smiling to herself in barely suppressed glee.
Harlan took some convincing, but the snuggling blonde kept a languid hand moving between his sprawled legs, fondling his balls and fingering his swelling cock as she slithered up against him to whisper in his ear. She suggested, with an urgent little squeeze, that this would be the perfect opportunity to try out the new experimental drug he had bought from Wallace Avery, and was just itching to try.
He told her how this new wonder drug that revolutionize treatment; how he meant to try it out on those guests who were looking to explore their sexuality. For them, he explained, it was necessary to delve into the unconscious, using hypnosis, to discover certain troubling fantasies the patient may have buried deep -- just like any other therapist might do. The new drug would greatly aid the process. He had eagerly explained how it worked to Joyce, even urging her to try it. But she was reluctant, at least until she could observe its effects on one of the guests..
It turned out that Dr. Avery's drug was some kind of endorphin analogue that caused subjects to become imprinted on the first person's voice they heard after being injected. They would obey that voice, and follow whatever command or suggestion they are told. It seems the drug initiated a very specific neural cascade. Until a subject acted to obey, he or she experienced inexorably growing sensations of physical and psychological urgency. But as soon as they obeyed, the drug caused the system to release endorphins to restore the internal equilibrium, while producing an intense rush of euphoria. The pleasure was said to be indescribable, but they wouldn't remember that, or much else about the treatment, for at the end of the session they would be injected with a deep sedative that erased all short-term memory. The drug seemed to hold a lot of promise, Harlan summed up, with a decidedly wicked grin.
For an entire week, Joyce had to force herself to wait impatiently, meanwhile taking steps to carefully avoid running into Ellicia. Harlan always spent the first week getting to know his guests (the word "patient" was never used) by a series of intake interviews he did one-on-one. Joyce couldn't help asking him how it was going with Ellicia, but he only smiled and hinted that he had learned a few interesting things about the premiere dancer. "You know people will tell their doctor just about anything," he confided enigmatically. Joyce could hardly wait for the second week, and Ellica's private treatment session.
On the following Tuesday, Joyce was waiting anxiously in Harlan's office, hardly able to contain herself while down the hall Harlan made a brief examination of his new guest and casually suggested an injection of a mild "sedative" to help her relax. Twenty minutes later, Harlan stuck his head in, and gave Joyce a big wink. She scrambled up to eagerly trail after him to treatment room #1 where the star of the show had been prepped for her debut.
Harlan went in first and when Joyce appeared behind him, the seated dancer, wearing nothing but a terrycloth robe, sprang up in her chair, her eyes widening in shocked disbelief, her mouth falling open.
"You!" was all she could manage to sputter out.
"Hello Ellicia. Nice to see you again," purred Joyce in the solicitous tone she always used with guests.
"What are you doing here?" the woman was struggling to come to terms with this amazing turn of events.
"I work here, Ellicia. I'm Dr. Royce's assistant"
"Out! Get out of here! I want her out of here," she shrieked at the smiling clinic director.
"No Ellicia, Joyce stays. She will be helping with your treatment."
"No! I want her out of here, NOW!"
"No you don't Ellicia," he patiently explained. Then in a lower, slower tone, this time enunciating each word carefully: "you actually want her to stay, don't you?"
The robed woman leaned back in her chair, and looked up at her tormentor with an agonized look in her eyes. For a moment no one moved. Then she lowered her eyes, and her proud head bowed. "Yes," she murmured, I want her to stay." Then she straightened as a jolt of pleasure rippled through her shoulders.
"You want her to watch while I give you your treatment don't you?"
The two of them standing there in their white lab coats waited, watched the huddled shoulders of the woman in the robe till in a low deadened voice they heard her voice: "I want her to watch. Oh, yes...I want her to watch." Another quite thrill shot through her, and she uttered a tiny "oh."
Harlan exchanged grins with his beaming assistant.
"Good. Now you want to strip, take off the robe."
"Please no, don't make me do this in front of her," the distressed woman hissed in a tumbled rush, tossing her head in mute refusal, even as she rose to submit to the terrible urge to obey.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ellicia. You know you want to take off the robe. You want to be naked for us." The doctor's tone was now patient, but his words were hard steel. It was an order; one that simply had to be obeyed.
"Yes, I want to take off this robe. I want to be naked for you," her voice, barely above a whisper. A tiny smile played over her lips the moment she heard herself acknowledge the order.
They watched the tall woman rise to her full height beside the padded examination table. Her hands worked to untie the front of the robe, opened it, and pulled it back off her shoulders, before letting it slide down her long lean body, baring a body that was no longer young but remarkably well-toned, a splendid body that Joyce had so often admired whenever the older woman moved across the rehearsal hall in those skin-tight leotards. When the robe had fallen to her ankles leaving her freely naked, an even deeper surge of pure pleasure shot through the unclothed dancer. She had obeyed.
"Turn around; face us."
Without a word, the statuesque nude moved her feet, pivoting in place. She stood before them in the nude, hands loosely at her sides, facing the two white- coated conspirators, but avoiding the eyes that raked her splendid body. Her bare breasts hung like small, delicate pendants. A dark wedge of thick curls marked her exposed sex.
"You like showing yourself to us."
"Yes, I like showing myself to you." Her voice was low and sexy. And this time the creamy wave rose up in her with a stronger surge, forcing the standing woman to close her eyes and sway back. A dreamy expression rose to her face as she savored the delicious moment. "Ooohhh." She let out a soft moan.
"You want to show us your ass. Now turn around, and bend over."
"Yes..., she paused to take a breath, almost panting now, her face flushed with the first signs of her inner heat. "I want to show you... my ass....oh god," she breathed.
Once again the nude woman pivoted in place, to present her observers with a long sleek back, narrow tight-set butt, and high tapering legs. Then, without pause, the lean dancer bent over to take up the ordered stance with hands on her knees, buttocks jutting back in obedient presentation.
There was a moment of perfect silence as the two conspirators contemplated the smooth taut curves of that naked rearend being thrust back for their consideration.
As Joyce stood there paralyzed by the sheer erotic thrill of it all, she became aware of Harlan moving in behind her, leaning in close. His hot breath as made her shiver as he whispered in her ear. "Well, here's your chance, baby. I'm serving the bitch up for you on a silver platter. And you'll owe me plenty for this little favor."
He eased back, took a deep breath, and turned to address his waiting guest.
"You have a nice ass, Ellicia. An ass just made for spanking. In fact, Joyce here is now going to spank that precious ass of yours right now. And you want her to do it. You want Joyce to spank your ass." He hissed. He waited. Then: "Say it!" The man could no longer keep his growing excitement from cracking through.
"I want Joyce to ....spank my ass. Mmmuph" after the heated rush of her words, a tiny whimper escaped through tightly-pressed lips.
The uttered words cut through the tense girl like an erotic knife. She swallowed hard as Harlan immediately stepped up against her, hungry for full body contact. By now Joyce was incredibly hot. She could feel the man's need, the hard prick pressing into her soft butt through several layers of clothing.
"Up. On the table, Ellicia."
They watched the lanky brunette obediently climb up on the table and lay her long body down on the cool black naugahide, slithering up on her belly, turning her head away from them, so she might rest it on folded arms. Harlan paused to study the clean lines of the beautiful dancer's body; her still body laid out before them: slender, smooth, and now beautifully submissive.
The Director of the Fontana Clinic was clearly enjoying himself, while his agitated assistant tried to swallow the wild excitement that rose up in her as she realized this unbelievable opportunity was really hers! Harlan's hand had come around now to cover her left breast; he gave her a squeeze through her clothes. And as he pressed his hips into her soft behind, she reached back to clutch a handful of the bulge in the front of his pants, squeezing him desperately in answer to her own growing arousal.
Now he tore away from her, and almost shaking with excitement, positioned himself at the side of table where he could work the extending pedals. A press of one pedal sent the front third of the table angling downward with a hydraulic hiss, while a second pedal smoothly raised the hips so that Ellicia's head and shoulders were lowered, back angled upward, her rearend served up most appealingly.
Harlan, by now sporting a considerable erection, couldn't resist running a hand up that silky smooth back, then cupping and caressing a sleek oval of Ellicia Wellsley's elongated buttocks, squeezing to test the firmly pliant mounds. His eager fingers followed the smiling under-curves to the place where they met. Two fingers probed there, up between the legs, sampling the dancer's furry pussy, and finding it surprisingly wet, while Ellicia whimpered.
He stepped away, rubbing his sticky fingers absently. With his eyes still on the upended woman, his hands went to his waist. He opened his belt, pulled it free, and doubled it over. Leaning down to the inverted head of the prone woman, he breathed in her ear: "Listen to me: You want Joyce to spank your ass!"
The head rose up and they heard the low breathy voice acknowledge the command: "I want Joyce to spank my ass...my ass...spank my ass. I want it so badly."
Harlan beamed at his white-coated assistant and handed her the lopped belt, offering her the waiting butt with the upturned palm of a smiling maitre d'.
Shaking with arousal, the blond girl snatched up the leather strap, grinned widely at her fellow conspirator, and gave him a big wet kiss on the cheek. She tore off the white lab coat, which left her still breathless, warm, and tingling with excitement in a light sleeveless top. Then she stepped up, hauled back, and wacked the proffered ass with a resounding whack!
"Yeeeep!" The mature woman jerked up and let out a high-pitched yelp of a little girl. A pink imprint from the leather strap gradually appeared across the exact center of both of those firm taut-skinned cheeks.
Joyce was elated, thrilled beyond belief to find the arrogant bitch bent over and wagging her ass in the air, begging to be punished. "Oh yeah, bitch, I'm gonna spank you all right. I'm gonna whip that precious ass of yours till you wish you'd never been born." And with that she hauled back and struck again with a flurry of vicious cut!
The leather strap repeatedly whacked the beautiful dancer's tautly-drawn bottom as the younger woman laid into her with all the pent-up vengeance of years of seething anger. Soon she had Ellcia Wellsely's elegant behind dancing merrily; hips gyrating in a desperate attempt to shake off the terrible sting of that whippy leather.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
Again and again, the crisp sounds echoed in the small room and it kept up, till the frenzied girl had the older woman shaking her butt madly and howling like a banshee. Joyce, sweating profusely, was whacking away with single-minded fury till Harlan finally stepped in to grab her upraised wrist. She looked up at him with dazed eyes, and he shook his head, and gently removed the belt from her clutching fingers.
He tossed it to the carpeted floor, and fell on Joyce, kissing her with surging passion. Then, fired with lust, they began tearing at each others clothes even as they held that deep open-mouthed kiss And as background music, the upended woman was moaning, wiggling her throbbing butt, and arching up off the table as her rigid body was wracked by a thundering, overwhelming orgasm.
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