تسجيل الدخولThe days after that appointment blurred into a fever dream of shame and aching need. I tried to focus on my scholarship essays, on normal life, but every time I closed my eyes I felt Dr. Auden’s mouth on me the slow, torturous licks, the sharp bite on my clit, the way his gloved fingers had stretched me while he forced me to taste my own sin. The memory of another woman’s moans through his office door only made it worse. I was just another patient. Another body he us
The next appointment was supposed to be routine. That was what I told myself as I walked into the clinic, legs already weak with anticipation and dread. Dr. Auden’s instructions had been clear in the message he sent the night before: “Wear nothing underneath. Arrive on time. Do not touch yourself.” I had obeyed, the sundress brushing against my bare skin with every step like a constant reminder of how completely he owned my body now.The waiting room was busier than usual. Several patients sat quietly, flipping through magazines. I kept my head down, cheeks burning at the thought that they might somehow sense what I was here for. What I had become.“Blythe Bastian,” the receptionist called. “Dr. Auden will see you in the main procedure room today.”My stomach dropped. The main procedure room? I had never been there before. I followed a nurse down a longer hallway to
The days after that appointment blurred into a fever dream of shame and aching need. I tried to focus on my scholarship essays, on normal life, but every time I closed my eyes I felt Dr. Auden’s mouth on me the slow, torturous licks, the sharp bite on my clit, the way his gloved fingers had stretched me while he forced me to taste my own sin. The memory of another woman’s moans through his office door only made it worse. I was just another patient. Another body he used and discarded.Yet I kept the next appointment.I arrived on time, skin already flushed, wearing a simple sundress that suddenly felt too revealing. The receptionist smiled as if nothing was wrong. “Dr. Auden is ready for you.”The examination room felt smaller this time. He was waiting, white coat on, gloves already snapped into place. His storm-gray eyes tracked me as I entered, a hint of satisfaction in their depths
The third appointment loomed like a secret I couldn’t stop obsessing over. I arrived early, nerves twisted so tight I could barely sit still in the waiting room. My body still remembered the last visit the stretch, the teasing head of his cock, the way he had commanded me to come on just the tip. I hadn’t touched myself since, just as he ordered. The sensitivity was maddening. Every brush of fabric against my skin felt like foreplay.I stood, deciding I needed to speak with him privately before the exam began. Maybe cancel. Maybe demand real answers. My heels clicked down the quiet hallway toward his private office at the end. The door was slightly ajar. Strange moaning sounds drifted out low, feminine, desperate.My stomach dropped. I shouldn’t look. I knew I shouldn’t. But my feet carried me closer anyway. I pressed my eye to the narrow gap.Dr. Auden had a woman bent over hi
The follow-up appointment came faster than I expected. Three days. I told myself it was necessary the pain hadn’t eased, and Dr. Auden’s notes had been very clear about the importance of continuity. But as I sat in the same waiting room, thighs pressed together under my skirt, I knew the truth. My body remembered his fingers. The way he had looked at me while I fell apart on his exam table. The praise in his voice. Good girl.“Blythe Bastian?” The receptionist called my name with the same professional smile. I stood on unsteady legs and followed her to the same examination room.Dr. Auden was already there, reviewing notes on his tablet. He looked up when I entered, and that storm-gray gaze locked onto mine with the same commanding intensity. “Blythe. Good to see you again. How have you been feeling?”“Still… uncomfortable,” I admitted, voice smal
The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air as I sat in the waiting room, legs pressed tightly together under my thin paper gown. Blythe Bastian twenty-four, perpetually anxious, and currently regretting every life choice that had led me here. My regular doctor was unavailable, and the specialist referral had landed me at this private clinic on the edge of the city. “Dr. Auden is the best,” the receptionist had assured me with a professional smile. I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.I had been having irregular cycles for months. Pain that left me curled up in bed some nights. The kind of issue you couldn’t ignore forever. So here I was, heart hammering, staring at the abstract art on the wall while trying not to think about the cold stirrups waiting for me.“Miss Bastian?” A deep, calm voice called my name.I looked up and forgot how to breathe for a second.Dr. Auden stood in the doorway, tall and commanding in his white coat. Early thirties, perhaps, with sharp
I tried to breathe, but Madison’s grip on my throat tightened, cutting off the air. Stars burst behind my eyes. “Mom—wait—” I gasped, clawing at her wrist. Mason lunged forward, trying to pry her hand away. “Madison, let her go. This isn’t—”She released me suddenly. I stumbled, coughing, tears streaming down my face as I sucked in desperate lungfuls of air. My scalp burned where she had yanked my hair. The kitchen felt too bright, too exposed, my naked lower half still slick and trembling from Mason’s cock.Madison’s eyes were wild, but not with the rage I expected. There was heat there. Dark, possessive heat. “I told you,” she said, voice low and steady, “if you want this… we are family. No secrets. No hiding.”She turned to Mason, who stood frozen, cock still hard and glistening. In one fluid motion, she stri







