Doctor's Orders

He sat down and his hands started roaming all over my body. He touched me, caressed my flesh, all over my stomach, my legs, and my arms. He lightly brushed my hips, ran his fingers through my pubic hair. He reached for my breasts, fondling them, wrapping his long fingers around and rolling my nipples under his thumbs. His hands sought my neck, stroking up under my chin, down around behind, and then across my shoulders to my arms. He touched my firmly, and my skin sang for him. I stared at him, watching his face as he explored me. I ached for him to insert his fingers, more than one, inside me. I wanted him to pinch a nipple, or better yet, bend down and suck one into his mouth. To suckle from me, and capture me with his teeth. He didn't; he used only his hands.

He explored me; he touched me; he aroused me thoroughly. Then he tested me.

He took his hands away, putting them in his lap. He looked down and I felt the ghosts of his movements all over me. The fan had cut off, and the air was still in his office. My heart pounded and my eyes were glued to his. He didn't look in my eyes, he looked down at my crotch. I felt his gaze there, and my pussy clenched again. I felt a trickle of moisture flow out of me and slip down. His expression was clouded, like someone daydreaming, in a reverie. He sighed heavily, blinked and looked at my face.

"Oh, Leah. There are so many things I want to do to you. So many things I would do, if we were at my house." He laughed, low, deep in his throat. "I see you, Leah." He paused, collecting himself. "Oh, yes. So many evil and painful things I'd do. You wouldn't know whether to beg me to stop or beg me for more."

It was happening again. Just the sound of his voice, these ruminations, these vague promises we both knew he wasn't going to keep. That was enough to make me gush. That was enough to make my labia swell and my clit engorge. My heart fluttered, my eyes fluttered, my cunt fluttered the most.

His hand slapped down, once, right at the midpoint between my hips. I startled, gasped. But he left his hand there; he didn't bring it up for another strike. He was absolutely right, and of course I'd explained it without quite bringing myself to use the word. I'm not just a submissive. I'm a masochist. I didn't just want him to use me; I didn't only want to sublimate myself to his desires. I wanted him to hurt me. I wanted his desires to include inflicting pain on me. I shuddered under his hand. I opened my mouth, but no words would leave it.

"I'm not a nice man, Leah. I'm really not. You should see..." He trailed off, looked around his office. "We could improvise, there are plenty of things right here. But..." He looked back at me. His hand hadn't moved, and I felt a growing heat in my center.

He cocked his head, leaned on his hand, pressing it into me. I was transfixed by his gaze. I gripped the armrest more tightly. I pressed my hips up, silently signaling that he could do whatever he wanted.

He nodded. "Oh, yes. I see you. I understand. But we don't have any privacy, do we? Not really. We're not the only people in the building, not the only people who work late. I do want you to enjoy yourself, Leah. I only get off on this if you do, too. But you have to be quiet. You have to be completely quiet. Even when you cum. Especially when you cum."

His hand moved then, down, between my legs, the tips of his fingers brushing my outer labia. He scooted the chair closer to the couch. He ran his other hand over my breasts, tweaking each nipple, and then sliding it down to join the first hand. One of his hands, poised to enter me. The other lightly touching my mons.

"Prove to me that you can control yourself." He slid a finger inside me abruptly. I inhaled sharply, but managed to keep it inaudible. He nodded again, pulled that finger out, dragging it directly over my swollen clitoris. I closed my eyes and ground my head into the seat. I clamped my lips shut, pressed them between my teeth.

"Alright, I'll keep going. But if you so much as moan then I'm going to stop. Say you understand."

"I understand, sir. I have to stay quiet."

"Good. Make a noise and I'm going to gag you with my cock."

I really wouldn't have minded that, either.

He moved his fingers again, and this time slipped two inside me. He slouched sideways, leaning on the backrest, one hand between my legs, and the other on top. He pumped his fingers, fucking me in a steady rhythm not dissimilar to when he fucked my face. His other hand roamed over my pelvis, touching, pinching skin lightly. He found the point of my hip bone and ground his thumb into it. It hurt a little and my eyes fluttered. I started to moan, but managed to swallow the sound and clamp my teeth shut. He did it again and I moved that hip up, pushing back against his pressure.

He swept his hand along to the other side and did the same thing. In the meantime, his fingers steadily thrust in and out of me. I could feel him, pushing in with them together, then making a circuit of my inner walls, and pressing apart as they exited. No one had done that to me before and the sensations were intoxicating. I quit trying to keep my eyes open.

I pressed the back of my head into the seat, pushed my hips up, tried to open myself to him further. It felt like the whole room was moving, like I wasn't undulating, but the couch and the floor were. I had a death grip on the armrest. His hands moved, one in and out of me, deep as he could, and the other lightly brushing, teasing my labia open. I would have paid him a million bucks if he'd bent down and put his mouth there too.

The hand that wasn't working in my hole moved again, roaming up to pinch my nipples and caress my breasts. That didn't even hurt. It was just a different feeling that spread my arousal more completely over my body. I shuddered, and exhaled hard through my nose. He paused, stopped moving. My eyes flew open and I gritted my teeth against the entreaties that leapt into my mouth. I just stared at him; eyes as wide as I could make them.

I shifted my hips, fucking myself on his fingers, but managing to keep the sofa from creaking. He grinned, devilishly. He pulled his hand away. I opened my mouth, wide, a silent scream of despair. But once again, prevented a sound. He slammed three fingers deep into me. I grunted. The force knocked the sound out of me. But it was soft, I barely heard it myself, and the fan had kicked on at the same time. Lucky for me. He waggled his finger, showing that he knew I'd gotten away with something. Promising a consequence of some kind.

But he continued fucking me with his hand. Now three fingers doing the same swirl inside and spread on the way out. He curled his hand so his fingers dragged over my g-spot. I shook, involuntarily, a full body shiver that started at my pussy and spread to all my limbs. I panted, inhaling deeply through my nose. I was concentrating on keeping my mouth shut. I bit down on my lips, tensed every muscle in my face, screwed my eyes shut.

His hand quit roaming on my torso and joined his other at my crotch. He pulled my labia apart, spreading me. The cool air swirled over my wet center, and still his other hand thrust in me in that steady pace. Then he started rubbing my clit. He bore down, pressing my clit into my pelvic bone. It hurt for a split second, then he let up. My clit was slick with my juices and he rubbed at it, pressing down and letting up in counterpoint to what his other hand was doing in and out of my cunt.

"Ah," I breathed. "Oh." I'd lost myself. I'd forgotten what the rules were, for a minute. The tension was growing in all my muscles, I could feel it building, feel myself clutching at his fingers, sucking him in, not wanting to let go when he pulled out. I arched my back. I remembered. I was so close to cumming that it almost felt like torture. Waiting for that one last piece to send me over the edge. But not being able to lose myself in the sensation. Having to be aware of my surroundings enough to keep myself quiet. The dichotomy was mind blowing. I heard my breath, hard and heavy, panting through my nose. I bit down harder on my lips, curled between my teeth. I was moaning. I was groaning. I could feel the vibrations of the sounds, trapped in my throat, beating at my lips, trying to escape. I needed to scream. I knew if I screamed, then I'd cum. I knew, if only I could scream, the orgasm might shatter me.

His hands kept working. He'd picked up the pace in response to my tension. I rocked my hips, up to meet his hand. I rocked my hips, down, sucking his hand with me. His fingers beat on my clit, rubbing along its length, and then flicking the very tip.

I climaxed. It crashed down on me. It tore through me like lightning, ricocheting off every bone and organ in my body. The orgasm was trapped in my throat and it bullied its way through me, wreaking havoc. The air blew out of my lungs, down my body. Tears sprang to my eyes, and my hands spasmed and I had to let go of the armrest. I clenched my legs together, my knee pressing into his shoulder and moving him. I actually clamped down and moved him, off the back rest. My stomach contracted and I sat up.

I sat up and reached for him. I clamped my mouth on his, finding him somehow even though I couldn't see. I kissed him hard and then all the strength left my body and I flopped back onto the couch, blinking away tears but without the muscle tone to so much as move my hand. I drifted in space, floating somewhere cool, while the heat of ten thousand suns radiated off my body.

From a million miles away, I heard him say, "Well. Damn."

I opened my eyes, still bleary with tears. I stared unseeing at the ceiling. I felt him move, felt the shift of the heat from his body. He leaned over. I managed to make my hand work, and I cupped his cheek. I slipped my hands around his neck, rubbing my thumbs over his jaw. He leaned down, one arm propped on the back rest. I could smell my cum dripping off his fingers. He brushed away the curls that had fallen in my face.

"Not bad, Leah. I doubt anyone in the hallway would have heard anything."

His words were gibberish that only formed into English on the third pass through my brain. I shook my head.

"Still, though. You weren't completely quiet."

My head moved in a slow nod. That sentence only took two passes to sound like English.

He gripped my wrists in his sticky hands, turned them so he could kiss my palms.

"I said I'd have to gag you with my cock if you made any noise."

I smiled. I understood that perfectly.

"Scoot down."

I furrowed my brow, I didn't understand. He pointed toward the end of the couch, and I tilted my head up. I realized that the space made by the armrest was big enough for my head to slide through. I managed to make myself move until my head was hanging off the couch.

He walked around, dragging the chair. He perched on the very edge of the seat, leaning forward and bracing one hand on the armrest. I opened my mouth and he slid his erection in. He fucked my face. I laid back, accepting, still floating in an endorphin haze. He shoved deep into my throat a few times. Then he pulled out so that only his tip and part of his shaft were in me. I held him there, swirling my tongue around him, humming, and clamping my lips tight. He used his free hand to jerk himself off into me. He came with a soft grunt. He coated my palate and filled my mouth, and when he pulled out, I showed him.

"Beautiful," he said. "Swallow it down."

He put himself away, and helped me slid fully onto the couch. Then he helped me sit up. He sat next to me, and I leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around me, stroking my skin gently, and murmuring praise.

Then he said, "Go clean yourself up, and get dressed."

I stood on still wobbly legs and padded to the little half bath. I peed, then found a washcloth and wiped the rest of myself off. When I came out, I went straight to the bookcase, and dressed slowly. I felt his eyes on me the whole time. I was still half in a daze. When I was clothed, I turned back to him expecting to be dismissed.

Instead he patted the couch next to him. There was a bag that hadn't been there before. I walked over and he moved the bag, grabbed my hand and pulled down for me to sit.

"Open it," he said with a smile. "I wasn't sure when I was going to do this part. But, whew." He sighed deeply. "Today went so well."

I grinned up at him. I wanted to brush back some hair that had fallen onto his forehead. I wanted to kiss him, to run my hands along his chest. But I didn't.

I opened the bag and laughed. There was a six pack of generic white cotton panties in my size. He was replacing all the ones I'd presented to him and he'd kept. I looked up and he was grinning too.

"I figured you might be running out. Believe me, I noticed that none of your underwear were white. But." He shrugged. "I bought what I liked."

"Of course."

"There's more."

I found them. Under the package of panties were two pairs of very silky black hip huggers. I held them up and ran the smooth fabric over my fingers. There was a hint of stretch. I noticed that unlike most satiny underwear, these didn't have a cotton swatch at the crotch. I wondered how that would feel. They were simple, and somehow elegant. Very sexy. He showed me that one had a heart stitched at the front of the crotch, almost marking the spot for the clit.

He said, "Wear these all weekend. Put them on now and don't take them off unless you're showering. If you take them off, put them back on as soon as possible."

I nodded. He stared hard at me. "Fuck yourself. Practice cumming silently. At least once every day."

My eyebrows shot up. Before I could say anything, he held up a hand. "If you absolutely need to take these off to have a proper orgasm, then do it. But put them back on immediately after. I want them soaked. I want them drenched when I take them off you Monday."

He took the second silky pair out of the bag. They had a heart embroidered at the waistband. "You'll get these on Monday. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Any questions?"

"Do you want me to shave? My pubes, I mean. Would you rather I shaved there?"

His eyes narrowed slightly when he answered. I realized I'd made a mistake. "If I did, I would have told you by now."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

I ducked my head, and tears welled up.

He tilted my head so I'd look at him. "Leah, you're going to make mistakes. We're still learning each other. I expect you to make mistakes."

I nodded, and he still held my head. He leaned down and kissed me. Once again, soft, slow and gentle. I melted into him, relaxed against him, I accepted him as he wrapped an arm around me and pressed me into the backrest. When he broke the kiss, his face hovered very close to mine.

"We are going to have to be so careful."

I nodded. He patted my cheek.

"Ok. Gone on home. I'll see you Monday."

I allowed myself to brush his lips with my fingers. "Yes, sir. See you then."

*~~* *~~* *~~*

It wasn't until I'd gotten home that I realized he hadn't given me any instructions about when to meet him on Monday. I panicked momentarily, wondering if I should assume to meet him at the same time I had been. Then I remembered, the only safe assumption was that he would explain what he wanted, when he wanted to.

I was so turned on and excited that I masturbated again not long after I got home. I wasn't quiet. The rest of the weekend I followed his instructions. I kept the panties on. I masturbated repeatedly, and I tried my best to be quiet and unobtrusive when I did. Not that there was anyone around to tell me whether they could hear me or not. It was weirder than I'd expected to follow these particular orders. Putting the same underwear on after I took a shower felt strange. I did what he told me and I reminded myself that every time I complied, I was strengthening my connection to him, and proving myself trustworthy.

On Monday I went into work, acutely aware of my smell. I didn't think anyone else would notice, but every time I moved, I felt the cloth shifting between my thighs and I wondered. My phone rang as soon as I'd set down my purse.

"Social Work, this is Leah," I said, with my heart pounding.

"Leah," he said and I delighted in his voice.

"Good morning, sir."

"Ah, so Julia isn't there yet?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Excellent. I was hoping to catch you early enough that you didn't have to pretend. This time."

My uterus flipped over again at that implication. He laughed. "So, Leah, are you wearing them?"

"Of course, sir. Yes, sir."

"Tell me about your weekend."

I told him, about fucking myself, about the vibrator I'd used, about how strange it felt, sliding them back on after I'd showered. How strange it felt sleeping in them.

"Really, Leah. Why was that strange?"

"I sleep in the nude, sir."

"Hmm. I think you really should have mentioned that sooner."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

"What else are you wearing?"

I described my outfit, a black knit skirt, gray and pink fine gauge knit tunic, white bra, black clogs.

"Sounds lovely. I look forward to seeing you. I have a task for you first though."

"Yes, sir."

"Go to the nearest bathroom, rub your clit until you cum. You'll have to be quiet, and you'll have to be fast. Don't move your underwear. Just shove your hand down and finger yourself until you gush."

I was already wet and aroused, just from him telling me to do it. I had twenty minutes before I had to be at Morning Report.

"Yes, sir."

"You'll leave work on time today, Leah. Then come to my office at 6PM. Between the time you leave and when you come to see me, you'll need to have masturbated again. I'm serious. Those panties need to be fucking soaked with your cum when I see you."

It was the most crass he'd been, speaking to me. My insides flopped around and I part of me wanted him to keep talking while I pleasured myself right there in my office. But then my door opened and Julia walked in.

I smiled at her, then said into the phone. "Alright, Dr. James, I'll have an answer for you later today."

"Julia walked in?"

"Yeah, I'll just need to do a little research on that."

"It's ok, Leah. We're done. I'll see you in a few minutes."

I hung up the phone. Julia wanted to start talking about her weekend. She looked like she was in a foul mood.

"Sorry, Julia, I've gotta, you know, go down the hall..."

She was putting away her purse. "Sure, see you in a few."

I strode down the hallway that housed all the social work offices and into the women's bathroom that was at the far end. I could hear the beeping from the lock on the outside door, which was not too far from the restrooms. There were three stalls, so I couldn't exactly lock the door, and anyone could come in. It was the time of morning that most day staff arrived. I ducked into a stall and pushed the door shut a little harder than I needed to.

I hiked up my skirt and sat on the toilet, like I needed to pee, but I didn't pull down the panties. I tried rubbing myself through the fabric, but it was too smooth. I heard voices outside in the hallway, chatting, laughing. I leaned over and snaked my fingers in through the leg opening, spreading my legs wide and bracing myself on the stall door. It was an awkward position, but I found the whole situation so arousing, so decadently deviant, that I was halfway there the second I touched my clit. I rubbed and pressed. I held onto the door. I closed my eyes, bit my lips and flared my nostrils. I rubbed furiously, pressed harder; I imagined him touching me, talking to me. It worked. It was a small orgasm, a little tremor, but I felt it. I felt the juice flowing out of me. I felt inordinately proud of myself.

I washed my hands and walked back to my office. Julia was gone. I went up to the Morning Report and avoided eye contact with Dr. James. Then I thought that might be as obvious as fawning all over him. By the time the meeting was over I was little calmer. He asked me a real work-related question, and we talked about a few of the patients. I told him some about the process to find a nursing home for someone who needed it and which community providers would be involved in care with a different patient. We set a discharge date for a third patient, and I went off to talk to her.