FICTION | HUMOR

Double Take: The Doctor’s Dilemma

They had both been looking forward to fulfilling their fantasy

Glancing around the examination room once more, Belinda closed the door behind her, satisfied everything was as she wanted it. Her fingers closed around the syringe in the pocket of her nurse’s uniform.

Then… she waited.

This morning she had broken into the clinic building. But is it breaking in when the doors were unlocked? Granted, she helped by putting that stone in the door opening when a cleaner took out the trash the night before, but he should’ve checked whether the door fell into the lock when he went back inside.

Technically, her being in the building was his fault.

She glanced at the clock.

Almost time.

Belinda’s ears perked up at the sound of footsteps approaching the doctor’s office, where she waited.

He was early.

She should’ve told him to be right on time, not early. What if she hadn’t been ready? They’d never talked about the practical stuff, only their fantasies — such as this one.

Yes, of course she knew what he looked like.

More or less.

Belinda shook her head to clear the doubt in her mind, and focus on the now. She quickly disappeared into the examination room and was just in time to hide before the door to the front office opened.

She peeped through the crack between the door and the wall. He was even more beautiful than the vague picture he had sent her. His dark, wavy hair framed a strong face, and his piercing blue eyes melted her knees.

He looked around the room, then walked to the desk, lifting papers as if looking for something.

Belinda smiled. He played his role well. A tingle ran down her spine as she quietly retrieved the syringe.

When he turned around and glanced at the open door of the examination room, she held her breath. He looked back at the desk one more time, then walked through the open door.

They had discussed their meeting, but he didn’t want to know the details.

It was time to improvise.

In one smooth movement, Belinda jumped on his back and plunged the syringe in his neck. He slumped forward and landed with his upper body on the examination table.

Thank god, she thought. Much easier now to get him on the table.

When he came to, he was on his front, his hands and feet tightly bound to the table.

“Wh… dth…fff.. gn,” he attempted speaking behind the gag in his mouth.

“You were early!” Belinda said, glad he had given her something to start their role play off realistically.

She paddled his naked bottom and enjoyed his squirming. Another blow evoked a loud scream and more mumbling. She checked his fingers for the safe word signal, but there was nothing, so she continued.

Gosh, how she enjoyed this, having him as a subject for punishment.

His squirming lessened as he breathed through the pain of the paddling, his bottom a satisfactory blob of crimson.

Belinda bent over him, kissed his cheek, nibbled his ear, and whispered in his ear everything she wanted to do to him.

He moaned and wriggled, every movement and sound that of a man held against his will.

Belinda loved how convincing he played his role.

He was good.

She sucked his earlobe between her lips and lightly bit it. He pulled away, but didn’t get far. Deep down she wished he would give in to these ministrations the way he did with the paddling.

Belinda pushed away the slight irritation.

Then, after one more sensual kiss on his cheeks and a softly whispered ‘now, now, lover’ — this made him moan once more — she slowly untied the gag.

“What the fuck is this? Who the fuck are you?”

“Come on, Greg,” she soothed, her hand on his back, “since we didn’t discuss details, I’m freestyling here, but I’m sure this fits in nicely with that doctor-nurse fantasy you shared.”

“What… I’m not… Fuck… Nurse…”

Belinda could make no sense of his words. Instinctively, she brought the paddle down on his red rear again.

“Use your words, Greg,” she said sternly.

“I’m Greg.”

Belinda stiffened. Confused, she turned from the man on the examination table to a dark-haired, bespectacled man demurely looking at her from the door opening.

“I’m Greg,” he said again, his eyes flashing from her to the man on the examination table.

“Then who is this?” she asked, turned to the table, look at the tied-down man and asked again: “Who are you?”

“The doctor.”

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