Tiffany Comes Calling

Part 1 (of 2)

I got a call from my cousin Tiffany one night. It had been years since we'd spoken. She grew up around these parts but moved away years ago. It was an awkward conversation. I knew she wanted something, but she just couldn't seem to spit it out. She finally said that she'd write me.

A week later, I got a large tan envelope containing some papers...old papers. I started reading...

********************************

It's me again.

Finally had sex with Gregory. It was sweet, but it just didn't do it for me. I wish I could figure it out. Why am I like this?

There were a couple of incidents when I was younger that might help explain. The first one coming just after I graduated from high school.

He was a surgeon. I think he gave old people new knees and hips. I'll call him Dr. Smith. I was out one night parting with his daughter, Veronica (my next door neighbor and best friend for years). We had a blast, but I guess we stayed out a little too long. When we got home, Dr. Smith was waiting for us in the foyer. He yelled at his daughter and then sent her to her room, telling her he'd deal with her in the morning.

He turned to me with fire in his eye, "Get into my office, young lady...I'll deal with you now."

I gulped, remembering his office is where IT had happened.

Slowly marching down the hall, my mind flashed back to the last spanking that I received at his hands. It was two, maybe three years ago, when Veronica and I got caught smoking cigarettes at school. After a lengthy sermon about the dangers of smoking, he had us both lean over his desk. He pulled my pants and panties down to my knees and spanked my bare ass, though Veronica got to keep her jeans on. The humiliation of it all had kept me in line for years, and, as I stood at his door, I couldn't believe I was back in this situation.

But I thought with a sigh, "I'm 18 and headed to college in the fall. Surely he wouldn't try and spank me again."

"Get in there," he barked, swinging the door open. He didn't wait. He pushed me into the room.

"Please, Dr. Smith. I-I...just let me go home." My nerves were going crazy.

"I just can't believe your stupidity!" he screamed.

"Please," I pleaded. He was really scaring me.

"What time is it?" He was tapping his watch.

I couldn't say anything. I knew I was past curfew, but just by one hour. A lot of my friends could stay out until 1am. Sometimes I could, too, but not when Dr. Smith was watching me. I had to check in with him on the weekends when my mother did inventory at her work because she didn't get home until 3am. For some reason she trusted him. I think it was because he was a doctor.

He pulled me close. "And it smells and looks like you've been drinking."

I pulled away. (I'd had a couple of screwdrivers at the party, but I wasn't smashed.)

"And to top it off, you drove home and had my daughter with you in the car."

I lowered my head; he had me there. (Ok, they were large screwdrivers, but like I said, I wasn't smashed.)

He sat behind his desk. "Look at me."

It took some nerve, but I finally lifted my head. Dr. Smith's steely gaze was kind of scary. Normally I consider him somewhat attractive in a older-man-fantasy type of way, but not tonight.

"Clear...off...my...desk."

I shook with every word of that command because that's exactly how it all started the last time. I knew that he intended on punishing me now.

"Please, I'm too old," I begged.

"Apparently not," he sneered. "You've made some juvenile decisions tonight, and I plan on correcting that right now. You know your mother has given me the right."

I did (she even laughed when I told her what happened last time and then she grounded me to boot), but that was a couple years ago. A tear rolled down my cheek. I started stacking the papers on his desk, all the while wondering how I could get myself out of this. I cleared off his desk and placed most of the stuff on a wooden chair in the corner. I put his telephone on the floor underneath. His desk was now clear. He tossed me a rag, and I wiped off the top of the desk. I know it wasn't the same, but it felt like I was preparing my own electric chair.

"Stand up straight," he ordered, grabbing the rag. He took off his nerdy glasses and sat back in his office chair and folded his arms. His dark eyes ran up and down my body. His sudden case of hungry eyes only added to my nerves.

"Look at you," he finally said.

"W-w-what?" I mumbled, confused.

"What you're wearing. Can that white top be any tighter? You can practically see your nipples."

My hands flew up over my chest. "Please, Dr. Smith."

"And that black skirt, it's short enough, and with those high heeled shoes, I bet half the guys at the party know what color your panties are." He chuckled, and then teasingly added, "You ARE wearing panties?"

"Yes," I hissed.

"Well, I guess they didn't come with a matching bra."

I was still holding my hands over my chest. I was used to guys staring at my chest ever since I developed into a C-cup. But I was dressed to party, and maybe attract Kevin Michelle's eyes, not Dr. Smith's.

"I can see now why my daughter now dresses like a tramp."

"We're not that way; it's just how we girls dress."

"That doesn't mean it's right, or that I have to put up with it."

I shook my head, thinking, "Dr. Smith obviously has no idea what it's like to be an eighteen-year-old girl these days."

"Now, go over and close the door and press the button on the knob."

I slowly turned and closed the door, fighting my urge to run away. I pushed the button, realizing that I was locking out the outside world. I also knew that it was very much a symbolic move. I was now alone with a very angry Dr. Smith.

When I returned, he motioned me over to the side of his desk. He started with a lecture about drinking and driving and boys and blah, blah, blah. On and on he went.

Finally he shouted, "Are you listing?"

I nodded my head. "Can I go now? I've learned my lesson."

"I don't think you've learned shit," he snapped. He sat back in his chair and hissed, "Strip."

THIS got my attention. "Strip? What do you mean 'strip'?"

"I mean, take off your frigging clothes."

"B-b-but, you can't be serious?" My face started to burn, but his expression told he was serious. I knew I was in for another bare bottom spanking, but hoped that, despite his rage, he would stop there.

After some stalling to catch my breath, I bent down to unbuckle my heels, but he told me to keep them on and to get going. It was like he was in a frigging hurry. I reached for my skirt's zipper and unzipped it. With a shake of the hips, it gathered around my ankles. I kicked it aside.

Dr. Smith cleared his throat; he wasn't happy. "Jesus, girl, pick that up, fold it neatly and place it in this drawer."

I looked over, and he had one of the drawers on the far side of his desk open. Numbly, I picked up my skirt and folded it and started around the desk.

"Hey, get back here."

I stood confused, but he motioned for me to return to my starting place.

"Oh god," I moaned, realizing that he wanted me to lean over him and put it in the drawer. When I did, I swore he sniffed my blonde hair.

"Dr. Smith," I complained, not wanting to turn this into something sexual.

"Just checking for cigarettes. Now get going."

I didn't really believe him, but I had other issues, mostly that he wasn't happy that I wore a black thong, and then he surprised me by telling me to take it off. I looked at him like I must have heard him wrong.

"I said 'off,'" he said, firmly, when I tried to protest.

The last time he pulled my panties down. This time it seemed a million times worse. I had to slide them down my legs and shake them out, fold them, and lean over his lap and put them in his drawer. But somehow I did it. I took several deep breaths when I finished.

As I stood before him, I used my hands to hide my nudity. I didn't like the sour look on his face. "Ah, Dr. Smith, let's get this over."

"That's what I was thinking," he responded.

I was confused. He just sat there, staring. So I moved over and dropped my elbows onto his desk, like last time.

He chuckled. "Stand back up, you're not ready for that yet."

"What?" I said, standing up.

He pointed at my top. "Off."

"Why?" (It didn't make sense that I'd have to take off my top for a spanking.)

"Because I said 'strip,' and that means you undress completely. Jesus, I'm a doctor."

I shook my head; more then a little miffed. I felt that he just wanted to see my breasts. I mean, I was bottomless and preparing to let him spank me, and he has to get greedy. The nerve! Plus, he was a surgeon. His patients were old and gray. I doubt they had boobs like mine.

"Well, looks like someone isn't as mature as she thought she was. If you were, simply exposing your breasts to a forty-year-old doctor wouldn't be such a big deal." He chuckled. "Plus, I can tell that you have brown nipples that appear to be erect."

I'd had enough. "You perv! Give me my clothes back." I leaned over him, but he slammed the drawer shut, while also grabbing my hair. I winced in pain and tried to pull away. I felt a sudden tug at my top, and I heard and felt it being torn from my body. I pleaded with him to stop, but he was stronger. He used his strength to push me over the desk. Then he pulled my hands behind my back. I felt them being tied together, and I realized that my own shredded top was being used to bind me. My tears began to patter onto the desk. They were not from pain, but from defeat. I couldn't break free.

He pulled me up and spun me around. Then he sat down on his chair and pinned me against the desk. This also left him eye level with my newly exposed breasts. I wanted to die, because, with my arms tied behind my back that way, it felt like I was offering up my breasts to him, and I was helpless to stop his lengthy, lusty stare. I prayed he would just look, and then I saw him lick his lips.

"I was right about your brown nipples. They seem hard, but they always seem that way. It must run in the family."

"Pervert," I snapped. (But at least he finally confirmed my suspicions that he wasn't as innocent as he portrayed. I'd also thought I'd caught him sneaking peeks at my mother's breasts as well.)

"But, let's see if they are hard," he said, and then he reached up and pinched my left nipple.

"Hey!" I cried out, but he moved over to the other one. This time he twisted. I was a little embarrassed that they were hard, but he was right, they are always like that, but I didn't want him to think I was turned on because I wasn't. I swear.

He leaned forward and took my right nipple into his mouth. I gasped (as much as it seemed to melt in his mouth), this was too much.

"I'll scream rape," I warned him.

He laughed evilly, "Better be a loud one." He moved to the other nipple. "No one home but my daughter, and I know you don't want that," he added, as he teased it with his tongue. "She'll just think you were crying from getting spanked, anyways."

He was probably right about that. "C'mon, stop it," I pleaded, suddenly feeling helpless and vulnerable.

"Plus, who says I'm going to fuck you, anyways?" he said, leaning back. He flicked my nipple with his finger. "I've just...never seen nipples like this. They have to be an inch long. My wife's were like these little bumps...but these...."

(His wife died about four or five years ago.)

I wasn't flattered. "Look, you've had your fun, but I'm scared."

(I'd looked down at his pants and noticed that they were tented in the front. I also wondered if it had been four or five years since he had been inside a woman. I knew I'd screwed up but didn't think it warranted being "screwed.")

"Scared? You're no virgin."

I didn't even have time to answer when I felt his finger rub and then quickly slide into my pussy. "See...."

"Dr. Smith!" I screamed out. (I wasn't a virgin, but had only had sex twice...and they were boys my age. Dr. Smith was a man -- one angry, fired-up, long-fingered man.) I tried to knee him, but he had me pinned good.

He added another finger and pumped away. He laughed when I finally let out a moan. "You say 'No,' but your body says 'Go!'" he teased.

I shook my head. It wasn't fair. He pushed me back and lifted both of my legs into the air, forcing me to lean back on my bound hands. He slowly spread my legs apart, farther and farther, until I was almost in a full split. He warned me with a stern look and a pinch of the thighs that I'd better keep them there.

"Ah, flexible," he teased, rubbing my calves. (Being a cheerleader, I'd done splits before, but, of course, never naked.)

He slowly moved his hands up my thighs. "Why am I not surprised that you have shaved your pussy clean? Not a pubic hair to be found."

God, it was so embarrassing. I started to say something, but I figured now wasn't a good time to inform him that it was his daughter's idea and her shaving job that he was so lustily admiring. Then he did the same thing his daughter did after she shaved me, he lowered his face and dove into my pussy. It was like he was trying to see how far he could bury his tongue inside me. Deeper and deeper his tongue drove.

"Oh god, long tongues must run in the family," I moaned inwardly, and then I couldn't hold back my outward moans when I felt his tongue dance around my clit. Back and forth it ran, each lap sending spasms shooting down my spine. I bit my tongue to try and suppress my moans. I didn't want to give him the audible pleasure.

I suddenly giggled, remembering I did the same thing when his daughter was eating my pussy (I'm so not a lesbian), and then I giggled thinking of the simple fact that I'd only had two people go down on me, and they both shared the same last name and the same gusto.

My case of the giggles went away as Dr. Smith added a finger to his tonguing, and then he reached up and started playing with a nipple. Well, his three simultaneous actions were now too much to fight, and in no time I found myself thrashing around on the table, lost in an orgasmic haze.

When my head cleared, I could see Dr. Smith wiping my pussy juice off his face with some leftover shirt pieces. He wore a sly grin. I looked away.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about girl," he said, rather freshly, as he sat back. I wanted to die once again. I mean this old dude just made me orgasm right in his face. I'll be honest; it felt good, really good, but still.... He didn't have to look so smug about it.

"Will you let me go now?" I asked, but deep down I knew the answer. (I mean, he had me tied up, naked, on his desk with my pussy on his breath, and he had a bad case of happy pants...so what are the chances that he's just going to let me go?)

He stood up and moved over in front of me. (I was lying on my side.) And then, in like slow motion, he starts to unzip his fly. (Oh God!) He fishes around inside before he pulls out his hard dick. I guess I should call it a "cock," because it was big and thick. I tried not to look, but.... I hadn't seen many, so curiosity took over. He was just standing there. It looked kind of neat just sticking out of his pants. I wondered what it would feel like inside me. I guess I had resigned to the fact that Dr. Smith was going to fuck me, whether I wanted it or not. I wasn't really scared, because I didn't think he'd really hurt me. I just wanted to get it over with.

He slowly moved closer, but he wasn't moving towards my legs, no, he was moving closer and closer to my face.

"I don't do that!" I cried out, slithering backward.

He laughed. I don't think he believed me...or maybe he didn't care. I tried to break free from my bonds once again, but he must have been a Boy Scout or something because I couldn't free my arms.

He reached out and grabbed a handful of hair. I locked my jaw shut. There was no way I was letting his penis get inside my mouth. He began rubbing his cock against my lips and over my face. I could tell that it was already leaking some sticky stuff. It was so gross. I was panicked.

"Please, Dr. Smith," I begged. "Fuck me. Fuck me now." (Just get that thing away from my face.)

"Really now," he said, while smacking his cock against my cheek. "I thought someone was going to scream rape."

"No, I won't. I promise."

"I know, because you want it, don't yah?"

"Yeah," I said, but I knew he was still taking advantage of me. There was no way I wanted this guy to do me like this, doctor or not. I wanted Kevin. I suddenly wondered if Kevin's cock was as big as Dr. Smith's. Maybe if I closed my eyes I could pretend. It was the best plan I could come up with. I spread my legs, offering myself to him, but Dr. Smith flipped me onto my stomach and slid me to the edge of the desk. It took a second or two before I realized why he did this.

"I thought you were going to fuck me."

"I am. I think I'll start with some face fucking," he said, as he pressed his cock against my lips. Harder and harder he pressed, until I had no choice but to open my mouth, and it was quickly invaded. Using my hair, he moved my head back and forth. I was just trying to breathe. Soon, there was saliva dripping everywhere. It was like he was trying to ram his cock all the way down my throat. I was gagging and gasping. He finally stopped and stepped back and this long piece of saliva strung from my mouth to his cock. With my hands bound, I couldn't even wipe my face. He stepped forward again.

"Please, I'll suck your cock," I gushed (thinking it had to be better then what I just went through).

"Really, he said with a smile. "First, you want to fuck...now, you want to suck."

"Ass-hole," I mumbled.

He chuckled, grabbing me by the arms, and then, in a surprise move, he ran a hand over my ass and scoped a couple of fingers into my pussy. Then, like a bowling ball, he picked me up off the table, before dropping me down on the floor.

"Gee, thanks," I said, shaking my head. I struggled to my knees. Dr. Smith was a couple of feet away taking off his pants. He must have been a neat freak because he folded them -- and his shirt -- neatly and placed them in the drawer with my stuff. He was in pretty good shape, surprisingly toned. He returned to his spot and folded his arms behind his back, with his cock standing up, proudly. I was a little confused at his intentions now.

"Crawl."

I smacked my lips. It wasn't lost on me why he wanted this (I was his pet), but I did it. With my arms behind my back, it was more of a shuffle. I took some breaths, opened my jaw and slowly leaned forward, taking his cock into my mouth. (Kevin had asked for this earlier tonight, and I'd refused, and now I just couldn't believe I was sucking Dr. Smith's cock.) He stepped back a couple of minutes later. He didn't look happy. I tried to explain once again that I'd never done it before. He laughed and went to his desk again. When he came back, I gasped, seeing what he was carrying in his hand.

"I see you recognize it."

I certainly looked like his daughter's purple vibrator. (But what was he doing with it?)

I think he read my confused look, because he said. "I found it in a shoebox under her bed."

"What were you doing...?"

I didn't get a chance to even finish my question before he starts shouting. "I was looking for cigarettes or even drugs...it's a parents right. Plus, everything in that room I bought with my hard-earned cash." He moved over and grabbed me by the face and pressed in my cheeks. "Plus, I don't think I have to explain my parenting to you."

I shook free. He grabbed my hair and forced his cock back into my mouth. "That's it, suck me like your little toy here."