The Doctor and the Naughty Girl (9 page)

BOOK: The Doctor and the Naughty Girl
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“I told you she’d come.” Dr. McKendrick smiled then. “She’s a good girl—with the proper motivation.”

Amity tried—and failed—to mentally suppress the butterflies that his bright, beautiful grin caused.

“Why is she here?” Amity looked back at Cathie. “No offense.”

Amity remembered Dr. McKendrick’s admonishment that she was to treat Cathie just as she would him, but having the cold nurse there… galled her. She couldn’t help it.

“None taken,” Cathie said, strolling over to the table, leaning a hand on one of the stirrups.

“I can’t very well do your exam without a nurse present,” Dr. McKendrick said. “She’s just here in case I need any assistance.”

But it’s okay to spank my ass without any… assistance?

Dr. McKendrick set the chart down on a counter, clasping his fingers together. “Let’s get you out of those clothes then.”

Amity looked from the doctor to the nurse and back. “If you’ve got a smock, I’ll go change, I guess.”

He shook his head. “No smock. Clothes off, Amity.”

“No—I mean. Don’t you have something for me…?”

Sure, a smock didn’t exactly cover, well, much. But she knew you were supposed to have
something
to wear.

“Let’s go,” Cathie said, her lips curling. “We don’t have all night.”

Amity wanted to smack that smirk right off the blond bitch’s mouth. She looked to Dr. McKendrick, who gave her a little shake of his head, his jaw tight.

“Clothes. Now.”

“Fu—” she stopped herself at his warning rumble, “—sorry.”

Both of them watched her in silence as she took off her brown knee-length skirt—it was tight enough that she had to shimmy her hips a little to get it off, which embarrassed her. Then her favorite knit cream top was next, her watch snagging on the long sleeve as she pulled it off. Then she was in only her bra and panties and her heels. She looked down at the floor as she reached back to unclasp her bra, holding the cups to her breasts for as long as she could. Dr. McKendrick’s growl sounded again, and she let it fall away, dropping it on her folded skirt, hating the way her breasts brushed together as she bent over.

Amity skinned down her panties as fast as she could, their gazes an oppressive weight upon her as she extricated them from her high heels. She wished she’d worn something else other than open-toed heels today—but then again, she hadn’t known this was waiting for her when she’d arrived for work this morning.

Finally, she stood, not knowing what position he wanted her in, her hands shaking in front of her. She moved to walk toward the exam table.

“Stay right there,” he said, looking up at her. “Look straight ahead, shoulders back, hands at your side now.”

Relieved at not having to look at them, she obeyed, even as she cringed at the way the position displayed her naked breasts.

“Nice to see a girl who’s not skin and bones,” Cathie said. Amity closed her eyes, biting her lip. “The girls nowadays seem like they want to look like boys. Starving themselves.” Amity could hear the smile in Cathie’s voice. “Not like this one.”

“She looks strong,” Dr. McKendrick said. “Healthy. Shoulders are straight, hips aren’t canted.”

“Those big tits are nice and high.” Cathie gave an exaggerated sigh. “Ah, youth.”

Dr. McKendrick’s laugh was low and relaxed. Amity wanted to curl into a ball.

“Please, don’t…” she squeaked.

“Be quiet, Amity.” His voice was tight, a warning. “You’ll speak only when spoken to in here. Understand?”

Oh, my God.

“Yes, sir.”

“Sir, is it?” Cathie said. “Already getting her trained up, I see.”

Amity bit her lip harder, narrowly avoiding another curse-laden retort she knew would’ve gotten her in trouble.

She felt the weight of their gazes move lower.

“That’s the first girl her age I’ve seen who hasn’t shaved everything off,” Cathie remarked, staring down at Amity’s sex. “At least the carpet matches the drapes.”

Amity’s flush was like a volcanic rush of red-hot lava.

The nurse made a little sound of approval. “Pretty blush too.”

“I like it,” Dr. McKendrick said, rolling his stool closer. Amity froze as his fingertips stroked through the curls of her pubic hair. “Very pretty.”

This was like no other exam she’d ever had!

Amity tried to move toward the exam table again, feeling even the mortifying embrace of those stirrups would be better than this, exposed, inspected like so much livestock.

“No,” Dr. McKendrick said, gripping her thigh. His touch was firm, his skin warm. A trickle of moisture formed between the lips of Amity’s sex.

Oh, no.

“Turn around and bend over,” he said. “Let your arms hang toward the floor.”

“What?”

“Need to check your spine.” He twirled his finger, looking up at her, the set of his lips firm. “Turn around, back to me.”

Amity turned slowly, at once relieved to not be facing their scrutiny, but mortified to feel their regard drop to her naked ass.

“Nice, wide hips,” Dr. McKendrick said, his voice thicker. “Thighs are straight, no musculature problems.”

Cathie affected a southern accent. “Breedin’ hips.”

This isn’t happening.

“Bend over, Amity,” Dr. McKendrick said. “I’m tired of having to tell you things twice.”

“Sorry, sir,” she whispered miserably.

Over she went, feeling like a spotlight shown on her ass, the heavy weight of her breasts swaying below her.

“Stop clenching, Amity.”

It was so hard though. She knew they’d be able to see… everything. Finally, she was able to will her muscles to relax, breathing in and out. There was the sound of rolling wheels behind her, the flipping of papers.

She jerked as a hand touched her, stroking her bottom, one side then the other, and back again.

“Very delicate skin,” Dr. McKendrick said behind her. He lifted one cheek, then the other, letting them fall, slapping them lightly.

Amity whimpered.

“They move well,” Cathie said. Wistfulness snuck into the woman’s voice. “Leah always thought hers was too fat. No matter what I told her, what I did to show her that I loved it—she never believed me.”

Who the fuck is Leah?

“It’s always the beautiful ones—they just don’t see it,” Dr. McKendrick said.

He slid closer, clasping her hip as he ran a palm from her tailbone all the way up her spine. His fingertips stroked her nape for a moment before his hand trailed back down the way it had come. He pressed his lips to her naked hip, whispering so only she could hear it.

“You’re doing great, girl. I’m proud of you.”

It shouldn’t have mattered that he’d said that; she should’ve been pissed, forced to display herself like this. But to a small part of her she didn’t want to acknowledge, his kind words felt…
good
. His approval mattered to her—even if she wasn’t quite sure why.

Tapping her bottom, he slid the stool back again. “Okay, back up and turn around.”

Amity turned slowly, wanting to do anything else but face them again. She raised her chin, looking at the wall beyond them. She’d make it through this. Maybe the worst was over.

“Lace your fingers behind your head, Amity.”

Her eyes darted to Dr. McKendrick. “Why? I don’t see what—”

His jaw clenched. “Do. It.”

Blowing out a breath, she obeyed. She didn’t think it was possible to feel more exposed.

“Elbows back, girl.” He stood, walking up to stand in front of her.

He caught her gaze, a slight twitch of his lips as he took her breasts in his hands. Her nipples tightened instantly.

“Either we’ve got a draft in here or someone likes that.” Cathie’s smile was sly as she flipped through Amity’s chart.

With a low, pleased rumbling from deep in his broad chest, he kneaded Amity’s breasts for what seemed like an eternity, occasionally squeezing them hard, making her gasp at the sharp pain. His big hands kept fondling them until her nipples ached and her breathing came faster. He bounced her breasts in his palms, then slapped them lightly back and forth, Cathie giggling softly at the sound.

Amity was definitely slick now between her thighs, the scent of her sex obvious in the small room.

“Breasts are healthy,” Dr. McKendrick murmured. “No apparent issues.”

His fingers closed on her hard nipples, squeezing and pulling gently. Amity bit off a moan, her face flaming again

“Nipples seem responsive.” He smiled as he squeezed them harder, drawing a whine from her. “Sensitive too.”

He swirled the pads of his thumbs over the tips of her nipples, looking back at Cathie. “Let’s get a blood sample. Need a CBC and chem screen. Full STD panel too.”

“What?” Amity’s voice was almost a squeak. “Why?”

But he didn’t answer her, instead taking a seat back on his stool and flipping open her chart.

“I’ll go get the blood draw kit,” Cathie said, giving Amity a wink. “Put her in the seat for me? Be right back.”

“Sure.” Dr. McKendrick looked up from the chart, extending his arm toward the seat in the corner. “Have a seat, my dear.”

Amity looked from the chair then back to the doctor.

He gave her a slow nod.

Get it over with
.

In moments, he had her in the seat—but it was unlike any other blood draw she’d ever heard of. He drew broad leather straps across her chest just under her breasts, her thighs, and finally across the fronts of her lower legs. Both of her wrists were locked in thick leather cuffs, stiff straps lashing both of her arms to the arm rests extending out to either side.

“Is this… necessary?” The strap under her breasts actually compressed her ribcage a little, making her conscious of her breathing.

“Nope, not necessary at all.” His eyebrow quirked. “This is just for fun.”

Jesus Christ.

While they waited for Cathie to return, Dr. McKendrick pulled his stool close again, flipping up pages in her chart, then asking her a series of questions about her sexual history, number of partners, age of first intercourse, and a dozen others that had her blushing scarlet.

She lied about her number of sexual partners.

Then Cathie was back, and Dr. McKendrick made room for her, standing again, leaning a hip against the exam table as he watched.

Cathie swabbed her arm, Amity’s heart pounding as she uncapped the needle. Cathie caught her eye, her gaze suddenly warm.

“You’re doing just fine.” She squeezed Amity’s arm gently. “I hate needles too. I promise I’ll make it quick.”

True to Cathie’s word, it hardly hurt at all, Amity looking away at the slight sting. Then it was done, Cathie snapping the bright blue caps onto the three vials she took. She glanced over at Dr. McKendrick.

“I’ll run these over to the lab, on the way home. You got the rest?”

Dr. McKendrick grinned, tipping his head toward the door. “I think I can handle it.”

Cathie ran a knuckle along Amity’s trembling jaw. “Guess I’ll see you later.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively. “You’re in good hands.”

Dr. McKendrick and Cathie exchanged glances as the nurse unstrapped Amity, then let herself out.

Then he stood by the exam table, patting the steel support for one of the stirrups. “Come over here, girl. Time for that exam now.”

 

* * *

 

His cock was so hard he thought it might actually burst.

Seeing the way she’d largely acquiesced to nearly everything had not only been unexpected—he’d anticipated a lot more resistance—but it had unexpectedly fired his lust.

There was no longer any pretense that this was a mere exam, though he’d keep up the facade, suspecting she needed that illusion, even now.

It didn’t matter—he still wanted her, and if things went according to plan, he would have her. And soon.

“Scoot your bottom down toward the edge of the table,” he said as he strapped first one, then the other ankle into the stirrups. The long muscles of her thighs quivered like leaves in a breeze.

She watched him the whole time as she obeyed, her eyes wide. He brought the overhead light down closer and she dropped her head back, her face blushing fiercely.

“Try to relax, now,” he said, moving the stool closer. He stroked her inner thighs slowly, cooing to her, hoping she’d calm down. Her body was almost humming with tension.

His cock throbbed anew as he looked her over. Though she had a neat V of pubic hair on her mound, her sex and perineum were otherwise shaved bare. The labia were plump and close-seamed, quite pleasing to the eye. He patted them gently with his palm, luxuriating in the soft, heated flesh against his skin.

“Just gonna take a look now,” he murmured, splaying her sex open. The rich note of her arousal filled the room, and he breathed deeply of it, finding her scent irresistible. She was very, very wet, and he tested it with his fingertip, tracing her opening, listening to her intake of breath as he touched her. Amity’s clit was swollen and already very red, his thumbs easing back the hood to fully expose it. He circled it slowly with a finger, her inner thighs going taut each time he touched the hard, sensitive nodule.

She was just as turned on as he was!

Still, there was more to do. Keeping his mind on the job at hand helped distract him from the deeper meaning of what he’d seen today, at the truth of the bewitching young woman strapped to the stirrups.

He turned to the tray Cathie had helpfully laid out for him before she’d gone home. He pulled back the towel and plucked up the speculum.

“This is going to be a little cold.” He eased it in and she shuddered, but otherwise stayed quiet. “Good. Good girl.” Pushing it home, he opened it slowly, spreading her well open. He looked inside, checking the cervix, making her grunt as he felt it with his fingertips.

“Does that hurt?”

He stoked the cervix again, and she let out a long breath, her sex tightening. So, her cervix was sensitive.

“Well?”

“No, sir.” She shuddered again as he stroked the smooth cervix back and forth with his finger. “It… doesn’t hurt.”

He smiled. “Good.”

A pap probably wasn’t
technically
necessary considering her age—but he wanted to make sure. He already felt a sense of protectiveness about her; her safety was probably more important to him that it was even to her.

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