The Good Doctor Ch 01

His heartrate increased when he saw her text, before he had even had time to read it, his excitement was palpable. When he could, he slipped into a private room and read her text.

"Be in the first position, naked, at 6pm. Leave the front door unlocked. I want to be able to see you when I walk in the door."

He knew exactly what she meant, no translation was necessary and even if it were, he didn't have the balls to ask her. She was straightup and it scared him almost as much as it tantalized him.

He had a lot to do in the next three hours but it was difficult to keep his mind on his work, knowing what he had to look forward to. They'd only had one other exchange of this sort, and ever since it happened, he hadn't been able to get it out of his mind. He tried, he really did but she was like a drug. An itch you know you shouldn't scratch but what are the options? To never know the freedom and the peace of mind of having someone stronger and better than you in your life? He was tired of being in charge, always the go-to-guy, he wanted to surrender to someone, to a woman, and she was it, she was the real deal.

She had taken it upon herself to begin this game that they were playing, but he knew in his heart and in his soul, that it wasn't a game, that she knew him like no other. He could trust her, he could take down his walls, his airs, his know-it-all attitude and he could turn himself over to her, completely and totally, she wouldn't hurt him or push him in any way she didn't believe would make him a better person, a finer man. He could breathe around her, feel the refreshing spirit of her ways, he knew that she held the key to what he needed and wanted. He feared her, the power she had over him was frightening, it required his jumping off a cliff and hoping that he found his wings before he found solid ground.

She enabled him to do this, but it was only with her and that scared him the most.

At 6pm, on the dot, the door opened. Before he could meet her eyes, she instructed him to avert his.

"Do not look at me without my permission, nor should you speak unless I have told you, specifically, to answer one of my questions. You are under my full control."

He nodded, looking down.

He was on his knees, naked, his hands clasped together behind his head, his elbows outstretched. His body was hers to use as she saw fit. He was completely open to her, vulnerable to her touch, her punishments, her pleasure, her pain.

"Would you like to continue, my pet?" she asked.

Again, he nodded, without meeting her eyes. He so wanted to please her and she knew this about him. She knew that he needed something unlike what he had experienced in the past. He needed to surrender himself to someone who cared, on whom he could lean, depend...he tired of being the dependable one, the responsible one but who would do what needed to be done, if he didn't? Until he met her, he'd felt that this would be his whole life, his responsibilities and the guilt he felt when he failed...with her, he couldn't fail. She provided his relief, his bliss. Or so he thought.

From his vantage point, he could see the black heels she was wearing, which combined with her height, should make her almost as tall as he. He could see the black stockings, the tops of her thigh highs, but he didn't dare look any higher, lest she catch him peeking and punish him.

"Very good...i have been looking forward to seeing you again but I worry that you fear me. Do you? You have my permission to answer."

"Yes, Mistress, I do."

"Good, that is the way it should be. If you don't please me, I will punish you, of course, but you must know that I am doing this for you, for your own good, so that you can be the man you are capable of being. I want to raise you to a new level. Do you know that?"

"You may answer," she said, after a long pause. He had learned from their last shared experience to not answer unless granted permission. His backside had suffered, greatly, due to his lack of attention to detail.

"Yes, Mistress, I understand that I need your guidance and your instruction to be a better man, to find myself, it is only through you that I can gain this insight. Thank you, Mistress."

"You are so very welcome, my pet," she responded as she stroked his hair, his face, lovingly. "You are turning out to be much more malleable than I could have imagined, and for that, I thank you. It is only through your need to tear down walls and let me in, that I can work, most effectively with you."

"Are you ready to begin?," she asked again, wanting to be sure of his cooperation and consent.

"Yes, Mistress," he said.

He realized almost as soon as he said the words that he had spoken without her permission but he wasn't prepared for the slap across his face.

"Did I give you permission to answer Me?"

He kneeled, silently.

"No, I did not!" he could hear the crop as it slapped against her thigh and he could see that she was also agitated. This made him nervous, to say the least.

"Bend over, I want your ass in the air."

He bent over, as instructed.

The blows she inflicted on him were both painful and erotic, they transformed him somehow. The tingling sensation that the pinpointed accuracy of her crop left behind were inexplicable. He didn't understand why he needed this or wanted it, craved it, on some level, but he knew that he was in the right place, doing the right thing, with the right woman. She wasn't abusive or sadistic. She was strict yet kind.

He gloried in each slap against his ass. He could feel the excitement growing in his groin and he hoped she wouldn't see him becoming harder with each stroke.

"Ahhhh, someone is enjoying this entirely too much," she said. "back to position one."

He did as told.

He heard the chain but couldn't see anything. She brought her fingers to her mouth and moistened them before pulling out each nipple, twisting it, and punishing it until it was hard and erect. She then applied the nipple clamps, loosely at first but tightening them until she saw his body react. The involuntary wince. He wouldn't show pain, outwardly, she had learned that last time. He would never cry "uncle," but his body would convey that he had taken all he could take. He was an athlete, by training, and he could withstand an enormous amount of physical pain. What interested her, far more, was the emotional barriers he put up. That is what she wanted to take down - if it required her causing him some physical pain, so be it.

After applying the clamps, she hit each one, repeatedly with her crop. He had to bite his bottom lip to prevent a groan from escaping his lips.

"Now, look up at your Mistress, meet my eyes."

He raised his head and he was astounded and excited by what he saw..she was dressed in a black outfit that accentuated her breasts as well as her long, lean legs...the thigh highs and heels were almost secondary to her lack of panties. Her pussy was completely exposed.

She grabbed the back of his head, wrapping her fingers in his hair, and pushed his face into her crotch.

"Pleasure me," she ordered as his tongue extended, his mouth went to work...sucking and licking and biting, the way that he knew she liked it.

Her hips began to respond, he could taste her juices, feel the slickness that was being released by her body. He was pleasing her and that made him smile.

"What are you smiling for," she asked, pulling his head away. Again, she slapped his face, "This is all about my pleasure. Do not for one second forget that. Am I making myself clear?"

He nodded but did not speak.

"Very well, I want you on your back, your tongue and your mouth, ready to go to work."

It was then that he saw the spreader bar and he knew that he was in for a long night.

To be continued...