This is volume 2 of the Doctor's Demands trilogy. All three stories -- Virgin Anatomy, Private Anatomy, and Final Anatomy -- are also available in a single, unabridged collection, Ultimate Anatomy.
Dr. Hartley summons Lily back to his exam room, but she's torn between the lure of pleasure and the fear of discovery. Will she submit to further erotic explorations?
Warning: This 4400-word story is for mature audiences only and includes a dominant doctor, conflicted young woman, bondage, submission, spanking, stirrups, private exams, anal play, and rough sex.
I’d never undressed in front of a man before. My hands trembled as I slowly unbuttoned my top. Dr. Hartley didn’t even pretend not to watch, just stood with his arms folded, scrutinizing me, and as I undid another button, and another, heat bloomed between my legs.
When the blouse hung open, I slipped it off. He held out a hand; I gave it to him, and he opened the door of a ceramic cabinet that sat along the wall, hidden in the shadows. The only light in the room came from a large overhead fixture directly above the exam table. Folding the blouse neatly, he stowed it inside and turned back to me.
“Next your bra,” he said. “Let me see your breasts.”
My nipples hardened at the command. I had been going to do my slacks next, preserving my modesty for as long as possible, but clearly he, and my body, had other ideas. Reaching behind me, I unhooked the plain cotton bra and let it fall away.
“Cup your breasts. Now pinch the nipples. Hard. Harder.”
I couldn’t hold back a cry as my fingers and thumbs crushed the sensitive tips, any more than I could stop the juices that gushed through my core as pain and pleasure rocketed from my breasts to my sex. “Good girl,” he said, and his voice was rough, his breathing harsher. “Now the pants.”
My nipples throbbed as I toed off my flats, then unfastened my slacks and drew the zipper down. The material slithered past my hips and down my legs, pooling on the floor around my ankles. I stood, waiting, while the doctor’s eyes devoured me.
“Put your hand in your panties,” he ordered. “You’re wet for me.” It wasn’t a question. “Touch yourself like I touched you last time.”
Former mild-mannered accountant Rachel Chase prefers sexy stories to balancing ledgers. She loves reading, and writing, about women and men who find their own unique paths to pleasure and happiness. Check out all her Barnes and Noble titles for hours of steamy fun!