Shattered Boundary

I'd known Dr. Chadha for years before I met my husband, years before we married. He was one of the first doctors at the hospital that took me, a young, inexperienced nurse, under his wing. We'd developed a kind of strange relationship that I never discussed with anyone, at first because he was married, and then later because I was married too. We'd never had full-on sexual intercourse. In fact, I never did anything to him. He, on the other hand had free access to my vagina anytime, anywhere.

I told myself that it wasn't sex – it was more like massage. Hospitals have very a stressful environment, and you needed some kind of release. Dr. Chadha had a way with his hands, his fingers. He could slip up behind me unexpectedly and slide his whole hand into my pants with one single movement, like sheathing a dagger. His knowledgeable fingers would skip lightly over my clitoris and find their way to part my dry lips. Then with just a quick thrust, they would open me, and my juices would pour. Whenever he wanted, we'd find a secret place where, with my pants down, he would magically pull multiple orgasms from me in just minutes.

This went on even after David and I married. Like I said, it's just massage. I never even felt guilty about it, because we'd been doing it for so long. In fact, I kind of needed it. David, my husband, was a lot more interested in my "back door" than in my vag. I mean, that's ok with me too, but I would really appreciate some more traditional attention. I'm naturally sub, so there is no way I'd ever suggest him to change. The frustrating part was that David would very often start inside me, then shift to the back door. I always relaxed and let him in, of course. Hey, for a sub, frustration is good too.

But today was different; things changed forever. About halfway through my twelve hour evening shift the doctor gave me that look then glanced quickly at the storeroom we'd used so many times. This was going to be a pants-down pleasure fest, or so I thought.

He left the lights on as the door clicked behind him. No sooner than I'd unzipped and started that sexy wiggle to get my white nurse's pants down, he unzipped too. He brought his full penis into my presence for the first time ever. I'd seen plenty of uncut members as a nurse, but I stared at this erect one as if it was the first.

He was on me in an instant, pushing hard at my dry opening. "Why?" I whispered as he thrust at my lips, missing the mark. He answered with a backhand across my right eye. I saw stars. A second thrust penetrated painfully, and I bit my lip. The third found some moisture there, but not enough for those that followed. It didn't matter, I was wild with desire. Soon we were humping with abandon, and he orgasmed, thrust all the way to my cervix. Then he pulled out, leaving me unsatisfied for the first time in all these years. He zipped up and left without a word.

I was confused. What had I done? How did I bring this out in him ... after six years? I felt ashamed; I felt slutty. And to my utter amazement it all felt right. I deserved what I got. I wiped as much of his semen out of me as I could using a dry paper towel there in the storeroom. I softly touched my cheek just below my right eye. It was warm and puffy.

After what seemed like an eternity, I peeked out. A computer sat unoccupied next to the wall. Quickly I moved to it, my right side to the wall, and began to review patient records with a fake look of deep concentration. What I was actually reviewing was my predicament. I had Dr. Chadha's semen oozing out into my panties. I had swelling that would likely show bruising in one to three hours.

Then it came to me. Shirley Guzman, room 603. She'd been assaulted and was recovering slowly. I put in orders for a douche and injectable anti-inflammatory. I used Dr. Chadha's reference code. No way he'd ever contest that.

It took almost two hours for the order to be filled. I saw the tech drop it off on the table in back of our station. When it was safe, I hurried over, snatched it up and rushed to the women's restroom. First I injected myself. It was too late for people at work, but maybe the swelling would be down before I got home. I pulled down my pants; my panties were getting crusty with pink-tinged goo. I ripped them off and flushed myself with the douche. The fragrance was ridiculous, and that pissed me off.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted the head nurse that I needed to leave early. Without waiting for a reply, I made my way to the surgical elevator and left through the ER entrance where it was unlikely I'd see anybody I work with.

As I drove home, my mind was swimming with all that had happened to me, was happening to me, would be happening to me. David would be there, and he'd want midnight sex. I'd just had sex with another man for the first time in my married life. I was wearing no panties, and I smelled. There was one thing I could fix ... the panties. I stopped a Walmart on the way home. Putting on my sunglasses to cover my swollen eye as the sliding doors opened, I made my way to the women's wear. There I looked in vain for anything that resembled the sexy Victoria's Secret panties that I always wore ... for him. Nothing. Frustrated, I grabbed a pair of white briefs from the bargain table and headed to the self-service registers.

Driving on home, now almost midnight, my only hope was that I could make it to the shower before my husband made his way "down there." It didn't seem likely, he is always ready to go. Maybe Mom would still be up; that could buy me some time.

My mother was divorcing my pain-in-the-ass step-father, and she was staying with us. She tended to hit the chardonnay early in the evening, to distract her from thinking of his oppressive demands. She'd have passed out before I got there, more than likely. I sighed deeply as I poked the door opener on my dash. Then, as the door raised, I saw my husband standing there waiting for me with a bulge in his pants. Oh god. This is it, I thought.

He was more than ready. As soon as I got out of the car, he threw a blanket over my head. I faked a protest in hopes of winning that shower, but it was to no avail. He took me from behind and slammed me face-down on his workbench. Of course, being submissive, this turned me on immensely. I made it difficult for him, and I knew we both loved that. I heard clatters and glass breaking as he tied my wrists behind my back. I could taste the filth of the dirty old blanket that he'd crammed in my mouth. It was far too dry and rough to spit out.

I felt my bound arms stretch above my back, and realized he'd tied them to something above. That pressure forced my face and breasts hard down onto the bench. I could still kick, and kick I did. More crashes of tools flying around, and something painfully cold and hard was jammed against my left nipple. Then he had my pants off, or at least down. The damning panties were around my ankles, and my legs felt restrained by my pants, though I couldn't tell how. I was practically immobilized, and dripping wet.

Dripping with the remnants of Dr. Chadha's seed, douche, and my own juices, I gave one more yank at my bonds, but to no avail. Then I heard the whir of some power tool frighteningly close to my head. I was petrified and submissive. Suddenly I realized it was quiet except for the running motor and my dog barking in the back yard.

The next thing I felt was David's hard penis pushing at my vaginal lips. Oh! How I wanted that. I wanted to be brought to toe-curling orgasm, and feel his semen wash me clean of the guilt trapped inside. He couldn't go deep, to my dismay. The panties around my ankles made it impossible for me to spread my legs. I tried to bend my knees to allow better access, but it was impossible. Then, as so many times before, he withdrew and headed for the back door. I let him in, of course, and he pounded me thoroughly. The discomfort of my position, the tool digging into my boob, and my clit bouncing against the side of the workbench gave me the orgasm I'd been denied just hours earlier. At least that was done, and perhaps my frumpy panties would go unnoticed.

Then, after he pulled away, the most unusual thing happened. The workshop radio that I'd given him for Christmas came on really loud. What was he doing? Taking pictures? Arranging another sexy torture? I guess it was a minute or two before I felt the warmth of his hand moving between my legs. I shuddered, grateful for the attention to that part of my anatomy. He pulled away quickly. Then I felt it ... the device ... some kind of dildo opened me up. Besides being painfully cold, it had a very strange shape. I protested the intrusion as best I could with the blanket sticking out of my mouth. After a few unwelcome thrusts, it stopped.

To my utter delight, next came his fingers. The old pain-pleasure technique. I'd never felt him finger me like this before, and somehow it reminded me of the knowing hands of my masseur, Dr. Chadha. He fingered me for minutes, and my body responded with several small orgasms. Oh, I was in heaven.

His hands abandoned me, but soon I felt him working his penis back in the direction I needed. I tried to spread again, he tired to lift my leg, but all to no avail. Suddenly, he helped. This was uncharacteristic and titillating. He freed my left leg, and found my wet circle with the knob of his erection. I used Kegel training, the method I'd explained to so many new moms, to clamp down on his throbbing member. I was waiting for the thrusts that would free me when suddenly he was out!

What happened? I blamed myself. I shouted into the blanket. Then in instant my right leg was free too, and he was dragging me up the stairs into our house. I was stumbling backwards on the steps with my wrists still bound. And this is the point where I panicked. We might get away with rough sex in the garage at midnight, but a full-on bondage session in our bedroom would surely waken mom, even with any amount of wine in her. He slapped me across the face, right next to the knot that had begun throbbing again, and that brutal act dislodged the blanket.

Angered by the denial of his penis that was so close to filling me where it was needed, I put an end to his antics for the first time in our marriage. It was the last time as well, but that is a story for another day.