The Good Doctor (Complete Series): A Sex-Therapist's Newfound BDSM Fetish
By J.S. Lee
Copyright 2014. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All characters are 18 or older.
Submitting to his Mistress
They say that the deepest memories are tied to the olfactory senses, and he thoroughly agreed. The sweat soaked fabric under him brought back a flash of pain, and panic gripped him already, even alone in the room. He might reason that the room alone was enough and simply being bare and bound to the bench could create a sense of unease. No, he inhaled deeply to make certain, it was the smell of fear.
The sound of fear was clipping steadily down the hallway, opening the door and now walking toward his naked, prone body. The blindfold came down over his eyes before he could take her in. In fact, he knew that she wouldn't even speak to him; it was part of his punishment. Normally, he could bathe in the sight of her, drink in with pleasure her dark eyes, her shining, red lips, and her black, satin sheet of hair; her low voice in his ear, teasing, verbally caressing him, beckoning him, and then pushing him to his knees. It was all worth being near his dark goddess. Now, shut out of her light, he was more afraid than ever.
He felt something sharp tracing up the back of his thigh. Unsure if it were a razor and she was skinning him alive, or if it were just a fingernail. And in that case, the mere fact that she might be touching him made his heart melt and his cock lurch. The fact that he didn't know kept him on the edge of pleasure and torment.