Doctor Pretty

He undid it, leaving it hanging down either side of his collar. He looked at her for a few seconds as she sat there, her pad of paper on her knee. Similar costume, different colour: soft blue suit, buttoned at her chest. A short string of pearls around her neck. Legs crossed, her skirt rising half way along her thighs. Dark blue pumps with enough of a heel to bend her ankle, round out her calves. Pale pink nail polish, and matching pink lipstick. Plucked eyebrows, not quite as dark as her hair.

"So I've been thinking about my theory, Doctor Pretty." He paused, and looked up.

She lifted her chin and looked up at him. Her mouth was dry, her cheeks flushed. "Your theory. Go on."

He ran his hand down both ends of his tie that hung down from his collar. "Yes, Doctor, my theory." He leaned forward. "I went out with a girl this weekend. She was a quiet girl, very attractive. She wore black, a tight black top, with a scoop neck, and a tight skirt below her knee, and had a small jewel in the side of her nose. Her nails were painted very dark red. We went to a concert. Dave Matthews. Then we went for a drink afterward, to a wine bar. It seemed like her kind of place. She didn't say much, but made a lot of effort to be cool. That was my sign, you see."

Doctor Pretty bit her lip. "I see. Your sign. You talked about that last time. Go on."

Alex leaned back and lifted his ankle and rested it on his other knee, his hand grasping the ankle. It was a strong hand. "Yes, the sign, you know. If a girl is trying to show how cool she is - how cold, I mean - it's because she has this thing inside, this heat that is so hard to control she needs to wrap it up like that. She has to control her bad girl."

Jane Pretty scribbled on her pad. That's all it was, scribble. She looked up.

"Are you recording this?"

Alex shook his head. "I don't need to." He put his foot down and wiped his brow, then lifted his jacket off and laid it over the back of his chair. "How did you like the tape? I haven't actually let my buddies hear it yet."

"Go on, about the girl." said Doctor Pretty.

"So I told her I wanted to show her something. I took her to my apartment. She said nothing. Nothing, the whole time. Except when we got to my apartment and I asked her if she wanted a glass of wine and she said, 'yes.' So I told her again I wanted to show her something. I brought out a silk rope. A beautiful rope. I told her to hold her hands out. She smiled kind of stupid like, sort of coy-like. 'you've got to be kidding,' she said. So I said nothing, just took the wine glass from her hand, put it down, then wrapped the cord around one wrist, then the other. She still said nothing. I tied her wrists up to the curtain rod. She looked scared, then. Finally, a reaction." He paused and looked up at Doctor Pretty. She was pursing her lips. She uncrossed and crossed her legs.

"A reaction. Go on."

"I looked into her eyes. That long look, Doctor. You know. When she shows the truth and she can't hide it. I placed my hands on her hips, then on her stomach. I kissed her neck. Then bit it. Then I said, 'what do you want?' She said nothing. 'you want me to fuck you,' I said. She just whimpered a bit. I pinched her nipple through her top. She wasn't wearing a bra. I like it when a girl doesn't wear a bra. I love it. She twisted and squirmed, but didn't say anything. I said it again. you want me to fuck you.' And she just nodded, slowly. kept nodding. then started whispering. yes, fuck me. Whispering slowly. Her hands tied up. I lifted her skirt up. I reached under and pulled her panties down. I could feel they were wet. I slid my fingers along her slit. She was completely shaved. Silky, baby smooth. Her lips were soaking, all over her mound, over the inside of her thighs. It was so fucking sexy. She came in about two minutes. She came about ten times that night. She was a very bad girl."

"I see." Doctor Pretty scribbled some more, her cheeks flushed, her whole neck flushed, she knew. She looked at her watch. "Alex I think you need to go now."

He said nothing, but got up. He took his tie from around his neck, slowly, elegantly, and leaned over Doctor Pretty. She made one quick movement to lift her hand in her defence, but he swatted it away. She whimpered, and tears sprang to her face. "No," she said, in a low voice, almost a whisper. Then his tie was in her mouth, gagging her. She closed her eyes. She felt his hand on her cheek, patting it, not slapping it, but patting it harder than necessary. Tears were falling down her cheeks, onto the skin of her chest. Over her pearls. Her perfect pearls.

"Open your eyes, Doctor Pretty." She opened them slowly, the blur of her tears slowly disappearing. He reached his fingers down and slowly undid the buttons on her blue suit jacket. He jerked it back, over her shoulders, pinning her arms back. Her pen slid down the chair and her notepad fell on the floor. He patted the inside of her thigh. Her leg jerked just slightly wider. He patted it again, harder this time. She spread her thighs. He reached under her skirt, fingers in the elastic of her pantyhose, and pulled them down. Right down, taking off her shoes. He put her shoes back on. He ripped her pantyhose apart. Quickly, very quickly, he tied one half around one leg, just below her knee, and one half around the other leg, fastening both legs to the legs of the chair. Her skirt was up, right up now. He stopped and ran his fingers over her bra, a beautiful pale blue lace bra. La Perla again. "So pretty, Doctor Pretty. such a pretty bra. Too bad I don't really like bras. Do your panties match?" She had stopped crying now. She nodded. He reached down under her skirt and pulled her panties down her thighs as far as he could. Then he ripped them apart. He held them up in front of her face, fingers rubbing the cotton gusset. "Wet, Doctor, very wet. You are such a bad girl. Such a bad girl. You can't help it, can you?" A tear formed in her eye, blurring her vision momentarily. He roughly pulled back her gag and stuffed as much of her panty into her mouth as he could. She could taste herself, breathe in her own scent through her mouth and nose.

"You can smell yourself, can't you, Doctor Pretty?" He leaned down, his hand sliding between her legs, finding her pussy lips so easily, so quickly. He slid them up and down, over her clit. She bucked and groaned. He played with her pussy for a minute or so while she writhed and twisted, moaning and whimpering through her gag. Then she went rigid. Suddenly. He circled and pressed her clit over and over, and she spasmed over and over. Her orgasm exploded, her head thrashing back and forth. He shook his head as his fingers kept touching her gently, firmly, all around her sensitive clit, up and down her slit. Soon, he could tell she was ready to cum again. But this time he slowed it. He took out his hard cock. Thick, ridged, pink with a shining purple head. "you want to cum again, don't you, Doctor Pretty? you bad girl." His fingers were arousing her more and more, her hips shifting and pushing, trying to fuck him now. "But you want to suck my cock first, don't you? You are a bad girl who wants to cum, who wants me to please fuck her. I can take your gag off now can't I?"

She nodded vigorously. He took it off. She let her panties fall out of her mouth. She inhaled deeply, moaning and whimpering as he fingered her pussy, sliding his fingers up inside her, massaging her inside, touching her sensitive core. Then up over her clit, around and around. "yes yes yesss please please I want to cum. I want to suck your cock, I need to you to fuck me. Please fuck me with your mouth, your fingers, anything." Then he grabbed her hair, moved his cock to her lips and she sucked hard, licking his shaft, sucking the head, licking around and around it. Pumping her mouth over it as he slowly sunk it deeper into her mouth. She sensed it better this time, timing it when it hit the back of her mouth. Soon he was trembling, she got ready to suck it down. But he stopped. He stopped with his cock in her mouth. Leaving it there, he lifted her suit jacket back up to her shoulders, then took her hand and placed it between her legs. "Make yourself cum, while you suck my cock, Doctor Pretty." Her pussy was soaking wet. Her fingers found the familiar folds, started sliding up and down her slit and around and around and over her clit. He started pumping back into her mouth. He started to shudder. His muscles went taut and he started jerking. "Suck it all down, Doctor Pretty, drink it down, don't miss a drop." She sucked for all she was worth, her fingers moving madly over her own pussy. Her other hand, unconsciously, had gone to her breast and was kneading it, pulling on her nipple through her bra. Then he exploded. Spurt after spurt of hot white liquid into her mouth as she gulped, gagged a little but sucked hard. Then it happened for her. She came. She screamed onto his cock, and yanked her head back, his cock then falling out, her mouth wide open, a screaming orgasm as she kept fingering herself hard through her waves of orgasm. When she finally stopped she looked up, to see him looking down at her, smiling very slightly. Her fingers were slick with her juices, her cheeks flushed with heat. She looked up at him, almost apologetically. Apologizing for being such a bad girl.

"You are such a bad girl, Doctor Pretty, aren't you? You like being a bad girl. Is this something you've wanted for a long time, Doctor, to be a bad girl? How much older than me are you? 5 years? 6 years?"

"Six years," she breathed out hoarsely. "I checked your file."

His cock was still throbbing, but slowly subsiding, softening, the ridges disappearing. He leaned forward and picked up his tie, looping it around his neck, and tying it. He put his cock away. Her suit jacket was still open, her hands still between her legs, the hem of her skirt not quite hiding her nest of dark hair.

"Time for me to go, isn't it, Doctor?" He picked up his squash bag and heaved it over his shoulder. He stopped and patted her cheek. "You're such a bad girl."

***

Three days passed. Sampras was in the semi-finals of the Open, which was almost unbelievable.

But not a word.

She picked up his file at the end of the day, and wrote down his phone number. Next morning, still nothing. She called. All she got was his voicemail. She didn't know what to say. She hung up before the beep. She called back. This time, she waited for the beep. "Hello, Mr, Kennedy. This is the doctor's office. Just wondering if you were planning on booking another appointment."

No reply. All day. She had taken to walking by the coffee shop several times a day, casting quick glances through the window, ineffective glances, to see if he was there. Knowing he was watching.

God what was she doing?

Nothing the next day. She was masturbating every night now. Sometimes several times a night. Standing in her kitchen, she picked up a long wooden spoon and smacked it against her palm. "Bad girl," she whispered under her breath. She went to her bed, took off her bathrobe and lifted her legs up, smacking her buttocks as hard as she could with the wooden spoon. "Bad girl! Bad girl!" she said while she masturbated, cumming through the pain and her tears, so wrenchingly satisfying. And reading those books she had. Erotic literature she had collected over the years. But more than anything, she just lay back, and fantasized.

By the end of Friday, still nothing. Then the agony of the weekend. Saturday. Sunday. Sampras won the open, an amazing victory over Agassi.

Monday morning arrived. It had been a week. Mid-morning, Joyce came in, her pad in her hand. "That Mr. Kennedy called. The hunky one. Is it all right - well actually he didn't ask if it was all right; he just said he was coming in for his appointment. Is it really okay if I don't stay?"

"Oh yes, Joyce, honestly. He isn't the man he seems to be."

Joyce left. He came in. His squash bag again. She stood by her chair. He walked over and dropped his squash bag on the floor beside her. Without waiting, he undid her suit jacket, pulled her jacket open, and smiled. She had no bra on underneath, her lovely plump breasts hanging free. "Good," he said. "you are a good listener, Doctor Pretty. I thought you would be." He pushed her suit jacket back over her shoulders, and squeezed her bare breasts. He sunk his fingers into them, dragged his digging fingers along and tugged on her nipples. She moaned and craned her neck. "You have sexy girl breasts, Doctor Pretty. No bra, bad girl?"

She was blushing profusely. "I took it off." She almost looked proud of herself, but insecure, looking for approval.

"You're a bad girl, Doctor Pretty, such a bad girl, aren't you?"

She looked up, her face flushing more. "I can't help it. I can't help it." Her eyes teared. Then she caught her breath, looking down at him still playing with her nipples. "But that's not all. There's more." She uncrossed her ankles and placed her feet about six inches apart, looked down briefly. Down between her legs.

He was quick to understand. He slid his fingers between her legs. Felt the top of stay-up stockings, then her pussy lips. Bare. No panties. Smooth, silky smooth, baby skin smooth.

"I'm a bad girl," she said. She blushed even deeper.

"Fuck," he said. "you are such a bad girl." He slid his fingers along her wet, swollen labia, over her clit, then curling two of them up inside her. She moaned, and spread her legs wider.

"Oh yesss... yesssss.. please... " she said, "I want you. But not your fingers this time, or your tongue. Fuck me with your cock. Don't you want to fuck me with your cock?"

He grabbed her by the shoulders firmly and turned her around, her tummy against the chair back. He kicked her legs apart, pushing them with his feet. He pushed her down over the back of the chair, her upper body bending over it. She had to grab the arms of the chair. She spread her legs eagerly. He slid his fingers along her slit, two of them up inside her, then out. He pulled down her stay-up stockings. She didn't want him to wreck them, but she said nothing. He took off her shoes, then tied her ankles to the legs of the chair. He lifted her skirt and ran his hand over her buttocks. "You work out, don't you, Doctor Pretty. You have a great ass. Great legs. All the guys in Starbucks think so." She whimpered and wiggled her ass, pushing back against his fingers as he slipped them into her. She had read about it so often in her books, and now she was doing it, it felt so natural. He kept on hand on her back, so that she wouldn't get up. He slipped his fingers up and down her pussy, over and over her clit. Soon she was so close. So fast. She had been wet since he had called with his appointment. Then she could feel it. His cock. hard against her cuntlips. "What do you want me to do, you bad girl?"

She needed no prompting. "Please. Please fuck me. Fuck me hard with your cock. Deep and hard. Make me cum. Make this bad girl cum."

Slowly, slowly, he pushed it against her labia, then inside her. She was so tight. His cock went deeper and deeper. She groaned. She moaned, she whimpered, she tried to fuck him back He reached around and grabbed her tits, squeezed them hard as he sunk his cock into her. One of her hands moved from the arm of the chair and went to her pussy, fingering her clit as he fucked her.

"Yes," she said, "yes oh god yes yes fuck me fuck me fuck me!!!!!"

He squeezed her hips hard in his frenzy, lifting the back legs of the chair, lifting her right up onto her toes as he plunged into her, faster and faster. He groaned, he froze, he shuddered. Then he came. Thrusting deep into her, pushing the breath from her, driving her over the edge with his orgasm.

She remained heaving, breathing hard. Hoarse.

He pulled out of her, and slid his fingers along her wet, cum-coated slit. Slowly, his cum was leaking out, down her spread, tied legs, and he ran his fingers over her swollen labia. Then his fingers went to her clit. She jerked. He rubbed carefully, applying steady pressure.

"Oh god," she said. "Oh god I'm going to cum again. Yes."

But he took his fingers away from direct contact on her clit. He slid them up her labia, then up the crack of her ass, spreading the wetness around her anus. "Oh, you'll cum again, you bad girl. But first I want to see how much of a bad girl you really are." His fingers were moving around and around her anus, then down to her slit, over her clit, then back up to her ass. Pressing against her anus. "Bad girls wonder what it would be like to be fucked in the ass. Some of them love it." Doctor Pretty whimpered and shifted her hips, circling them in response to Alex's fingers. His fingers, soaking wet, were playing with her anus, pressing, then moving away, down to her clit, making her moan. "Yes," he said, "imagine what it would be like... a hard cock splitting you apart... where you've never been fucked... just like this... " And he took the finger he had been using, and just pushed it inside her ass, quickly, and briefly, about an inch deep. She gasped. Then he played with her some more. He did it again. She gasped, and moaned. When he did it again she uttered a short cry.

His cock was hard again. He started sliding it up and down her slit, then over her clit, and then up the crack of her ass. He let it rest against her anus. Her ass was wet, as was the head of his cock. He put the head of his cock against her ass. She said nothing. He pushed. Not too hard, but so she could feel the pressure. "Just like that," he said. "Imagine, Doctor Pretty. Do you think you could take my thick, hard cock?" He pushed it a little harder and she gasped again. Her face was screwed up, her hands gripping the chair arms tightly. He pushed just a little harder, his shiny wet cockhead against her wet ass. Then he pulled away. rammed his cock into her pussy. She screamed. Then he took it out, played with her ass again, then rammed it into her pussy again. He smacked her ass. Then he took his cock out and held it in his hand and circled and circled her clit with it. Not stopping. He stroked it at the same time.

"Yes, Doctor Pretty you're going to cum again. And I'm going to cum again. All over your soaking wet cunt. Your soft sleek naked cunt. I want you to call it your cunt now. How does your cunt feel, bad girl? Tell me how the bad girl's cunt feels."

She moaned. "It... It... feels... sooo... ready... "

He lifted his hand and smacked her ass hard. "How does your cunt feel, bad girl?"

"Ouch!!" She gasped. "My cunt... cunt... feels so ready. My cunt needs to cum!!!!!"

"Good, Doctor Pretty. Then your cunt is going to cum." He circled her clit harder, wiping his cum all over her pussy lips.

Soon she was groaning and whimpering. "Yes, please fuck me. Fuck me with your fingers. Fuck my bad girl's cunt. AAAAAarrrrrgh!!!!!" She came. She bucked and bucked on the back of the chair.

She stopped, spent. Panting. Her shoulder length dark red hair hanging down beside her face.

"You should see yourself, Doctor Pretty. You love to fuck, don't you? Love being fucked."

She stood up, her legs still tied, her skirt around her waist. Her face was flushed, her breasts poking out in the gap of her jacket, her nipples hard. She was biting her lip.

"What's become of me?" she said. "What's happening to me? What are you going to do to me?"

Alex smiled. "You've only just started, Doctor Pretty."

He picked up his jacket and his squash bag, and left.

***

Next day, she phoned him, and again got his voicemail. "Alex, when will I see you again? I need something to go on. Here is my private line number." She repeated her private line number into the voice machine.

She put the phone down. She couldn't believe she was doing this.