Page 13 of Doctor Stuff

“No, you want to show them to me again. So show them to me. Unbutton your dress down to your waist. That’s all you’ll need to do since you’re not wearing a bra.”

Hot and cold runs through me, and I feel strangely vulnerable. I reach for the top button on my dress. He’s right. I want to show him my tits again. But I also want him to react to me. I don’t want to just show him my tits and get nothing… except that it also makes me hotter than ever when I do get my dress open and my tits are hanging out there and he barely glances at them.

“Now pull up your skirt. It doesn’t have far to go.”

My cheeks feel like they’re on fire as I pull the hem of my skirt up to show off the lacy red thong that’s underneath.

“Good girl. Now tuck your skirt around your hips and spread your knees apart.”

Which means that I can’t keep pressing my thighs together to try and put some pressure on my needy pussy. It also means that he can probably see how wet I am, because I’ve already soaked through the fabric of my thong. My face blazes as I do what he orders, leaning back against the couch with my knees spread, skirt tucked around my hips, and my tits completely exposed.

I feel utterly shameless.

“Good. Now, cup your breasts and squeeze them.”

He waits as I slowly raise my hands up to cup my tits, sliding my fingers under them and lifting up like I’m offering them to him.

“Have you always been a rebel, Traci?”

“What? I…” It feels like my brain has whiplash as he goes from bossing me around sexually to asking me a question about myself. “Sort of? I guess?”

The truth is, I hate being told what to do. Except that he’s telling me what to do and I’m doing it… and I’m loving it. I don’t know how to explain the difference between doing what he’s telling me to do and not doing what everyone else tells me to do.

“Pinch your nipples, Traci.”

Pleasure flashes through me, along with just a hint of pain as I close my fingers around the tiny buds. I bite my lip against the moan that wants to come out of me, and my knees waver before going back into position. I want to press my thighs together so bad, it feels like my pussy is throbbing between my legs.

I hate that he can just stare straight at my wet-fabric-covered crotch, and at the same time I’m loving it too.

“Do you remember ever following the rules?” he asks.

I shake my head, but not because the answer is no, but because I’m trying to shake off the lust that’s making my brain feel hazy.

“Sure. When I was a little kid. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Pinch your nipples harder and give them a little twist.”

This time I can’t stop the moan as the pleasure and pain zap through me. Maybe I like this because I know we’re definitely not following the rules. I’m following his orders, but not the rules. He could get into serious trouble for this. I looked it up.

Then again, maybe not? Since he’s not touching me?

I feel like ordering me to touch myself has to be crossing some kind of line though.

“Do you remember the first time you decided not to follow the rules?”

“Um… pretty sure it was middle school.” I try to think back. I don’t know why I’m even trying. What the hell does this matter? And yet, I know he’s not going to keep going unless I do.

“Take one of your hands and start rubbing your clit with your fingers. Slowly.”

My nipple throbs as I release it and reach down to press my fingers over my pussy. The lace of my thong is wet to the touch and I whimper as I slip my fingers beneath the fabric and touch my clit. He didn’t say I couldn’t. As I touch myself, he finally looks up from his clipboard, watching my fingers circle my clit for a moment.

I don’t think I’m imagining seeing a bulge in the front of his pants now. They’re slim fit pants, so it shows. I can’t help but wonder exactly how big he is. That’s something I can’t tell at all, unfortunately.

My pussy clenches at knowing that he’s hard for me.

“Slowly, Traci. You are not allowed to come yet.”

Oh fuck.