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29: Doctor Daddy (5)

C.M.
last update Veröffentlichungsdatum: 21.06.2026 15:26:14

The back-to-back sessions became her new reality, the axis around which her life spun. The outside world, her job, her friends, the mundane rhythm of days, faded into a dull, gray blur. All that held color and meaning were the blue walls of the suite, the scent of sandalwood and antiseptic, and the deep, commanding timbre of his voice.

Session 4 was a blur of sensation. He had used his hands again, but differently. He’d employed a technique he called “fascial stripping,” his fingers digging de
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  • Tales Of His Obsession    33: Seduced by Two Daddies (2)

    The command, so direct, so filthy, sent a fresh flood of wetness between her legs. She sank down, the cool rug rough against her bare knees. From this vantage point, she was eye-level with the prominent bulge in Marcus’s trousers. Julian moved behind her, his hands settling on her bare shoulders, a possessive anchor. Marcus unbuckled his belt, the clink of metal deafening. He unzipped his fly and freed his cock. It was thick, veined, and already fully erect, the head flushed a deep red. Isabella’s breath hitched. It was larger than anything she’d ever seen, let alone taken. “Look at you,” Marcus growled, fisting his length. “Our pretty little applicant, on her knees where she belongs. Show us you want this job, Isabella. Show us how badly you need it.” His words were a dark catalyst, mixing her shame with a desperate, rising need. Leaning forward, driven by a compulsion she didn’t fully understand, she extended her tongue and licked a slow, tentative stripe from the base of his sha

  • Tales Of His Obsession    32: Seduced by Two Daddies

    The luxurious penthouse apartment shimmered in the sunset, floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the glittering city skyline. Isabella, a young woman of twenty-three with wide, innocent eyes and a curvy figure she was still learning to own, nervously smoothed the silk of her little black dress. It was too tight, too short, a choice she’d made in a moment of wild rebellion against her quiet life. She was here to interview for a personal assistant position, a job that promised a salary that could lift her and her sick mother out of their cramped apartment forever. The door opened before she could knock. Two men stood in the doorway, and the air seemed to leave the corridor. They were both in their late forties, exuding an aura of power and casual wealth that was almost tangible. Marcus, on the left, had dark hair silvering at the temples, eyes like storm clouds, and a jawline that could cut glass. He wore a charcoal suit that hugged his broad shoulders. Julian, on the right, was h

  • Tales Of His Obsession    31: Doctor Daddy (7)

    The days of the Intensive Program bled into one another, a relentless, structured procession of sensory modulation, restraint, and Dr. Anderson’s meticulously applied “therapy.” The pharmacological adjuncts began on Day Two, a clear, tasteless liquid added to her water that made her skin hypersensitive and her mind pliant, blurring the edges of resistance into a soft, accepting haze. Each day introduced a new variable. Some sessions were silent, hours spent bound in intricate, restrictive positions while he observed her on the monitors, noting her physiological responses. Others were cacophonous, filled with discordant sounds, his voice layered over pre-recorded medical commands and her own previous moans played back to her. He used tools with increasing specificity: a vibrating, pronged device that clamped onto her clitoris for “oscillatory desensitization,” a warmed, weighted plug inserted for hours to “promote pelvic floor memory.” Through it all, the through-line was his contr

  • Tales Of His Obsession    30: Doctor Daddy (6)

    The transition from outpatient to inpatient was seamless, a logical escalation in a protocol that had long since ceased to have any pretense of medical legitimacy. On Monday at 9 AM, Alexa presented herself not at the West Wing suite, but at a private, unmarked entrance to a part of the hospital she’d never seen. Dr. Anderson met her there, his demeanor one of brisk, focused efficiency. “Leave your phone, your bag, any personal items here,” he instructed, taking a small lockbox from a shelf. “For the duration of the program, you are under my direct care. Your sole focus is healing.” She handed over her lifeline to the outside world without a word. The act felt symbolic, a final severing. He led her down a sterile, quiet hallway to a private room. It wasn’t a standard hospital room. It was a larger space, sparsely furnished. A wide, medical-grade bed with adjustable rails dominated the center. There were monitors against one wall, their screens dark. A rolling cart held an array of d

  • Tales Of His Obsession    29: Doctor Daddy (5)

    The back-to-back sessions became her new reality, the axis around which her life spun. The outside world, her job, her friends, the mundane rhythm of days, faded into a dull, gray blur. All that held color and meaning were the blue walls of the suite, the scent of sandalwood and antiseptic, and the deep, commanding timbre of his voice. Session 4 was a blur of sensation. He had used his hands again, but differently. He’d employed a technique he called “fascial stripping,” his fingers digging deep into the muscles of her inner thighs, her groin, her lower abdomen, manipulating tissue with a painful, pleasurable pressure that left her bruised and breathless, before culminating in a climax so intense she blacked out for a few seconds. But Session 5, the next evening, marked another escalation. A fundamental shift. When she entered the suite, the table had been modified. The stirrups were not the usual cold metal cups, but padded leather cuffs. And two additional straps were lying on th

  • Tales Of His Obsession    28: Doctor Daddy (4)

    The following evening at 8 PM, Alexa was once again in the blue-walled suite. The air was cooler, carrying a faint, clean antiseptic scent that did nothing to calm her nerves. She obeyed his instruction, the soft cotton gown tied loosely in the back, her body bare and sensitive beneath it. Every shift of the fabric felt like a whisper against her skin, a constant reminder of her state of undress, of readiness. Dr. Anderson entered precisely on time. Tonight, he’d forgone the white coat entirely. He wore a form-fitting black t-shirt that stretched across the powerful planes of his chest and shoulders, and dark trousers. He looked less like a doctor and more like a sculptor approaching his chosen medium. “Alexa,” he said, his voice a low, warm vibration. “Report. Any residual tension?” “Yes,” she breathed, the word honest. It had been a 24-hour crescendo, a needy hum that had started the moment she’d left his office the day before. “It’s… worse.” A flicker of satisfaction passed thr

  • Tales Of His Obsession    23: The Submissive Daddy (3)

    A week of torturous normalcy followed. Lawrence navigated boardrooms and business lunches, the hidden collar a constant secret against his skin. He was sharper, more present, yet part of his mind always dwelled in the crimson-and-black warehouse space, on her voice, her commands. Seraphina sent b

  • Tales Of His Obsession    22: The Submissive Daddy (2)

    The words hung between them, a sacred, profane vow. Seraphina’s smile deepened, becoming less cruel and more possessive. “Good boy,” she purred, and the simple praise ignited a flame of shameful pleasure in Robert’s chest. “The first lesson,” she said, her tone shifting to one of instructional com

  • Tales Of His Obsession    21: The Submissive Daddy

    The mahogany desk in Lawrence Ellison’s corner office gleamed under the soft, recessed lighting. At fifty-two, he was a titan of industry, a man whose very name commanded respect and whose sharp grey eyes could silence a boardroom with a glance. His tailored suit fit him like a second skin of aut

  • Tales Of His Obsession    20: Daddy’s Cam Girl (7)

    The morning after the Punishment, Sloane’s body was a map of pain. Each welt was a dull, aching reminder. Each tender, internal muscle whispered of Markus’s brutal invasion. She moved through the sterile luxury of her apartment like a ghost, the silence oppressive. The high from the historic earnin

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