She glanced around the examination room once more. Satisfied everything was as she wanted it, she closed the door behind her. Belinda’s 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. Though, you can hardly call it breaking in when doors were unlocked, right? Okay, she helped a bit by putting that stone in the door opening when a cleaner took out the trash the night before. It was his fault he didn’t check 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 a footfall in the hallway leading to the doctor’s office, where she waited.
He was early.
She should’ve told him to be on time, not early. What if she hadn’t been ready? Their chats were all about their fantasies — such as this one — and not about the practical stuff.
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 hallway 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 bound to the feet of the table.
“Wh… dth…fff.. gn,” he attempted to speak behind the gag in his mouth.
“You were early!” Belinda said, glad he had given her something to start their role play off in a realistic way.
She paddled his naked bottom and enjoyed watching him squirm. Another blow to his bottom 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, and nibbled his ear.
He moaned and wriggled, every movement and sound that of a man held against his will. Belinda loved the convincing nature of their encounter. 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 told me about.”
“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.
Belinda stiffened. Confused, she looked at the man on the examination table, then turned to the door, where a dark-haired, bespectacled man demurely looked at her.
“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?”
© Rebel’s Notes