The Doctor's Captive Page 2

  She looked over her shoulder, determined to show him how much she hated him, and realized that although his belt had been taken off, his pants were undisturbed. He had looped the belt in two and was holding it in one hand. She saw his lips twist in a wry smile as his arm rose, and suddenly she realized that she’d been completely wrong about his intentions. He wasn’t about to have sex with her. He was about to beat her.

  “Consider this thrashing punishment for your poor performance,” he drawled. “I expected better from you.”

  “This is exactly the sick shit I expected from you,” she spat back. “You fu… umph!”

  She did not finish her sentence. Instead she swallowed it as coiled leather was unleashed against her bottom. He did not speak a word as he thrashed her and she did not allow him the satisfaction of hearing her pain, but there was no denying it as it burst across her bottom stroke after stroke, her flesh welting and burning under the lash of the leather.

  “You always were a mouthy one,” he said casually, pausing between strokes to examine and admire his handiwork. “And you always did have a bottom made for discipline.”

  “You must have me mistaken for someone else,” Katie said through gritted teeth. “We’ve never met. I don’t mingle with traitors.”

  He snorted and began thrashing her bottom again, plying the belt hard against her skin with methodical stroke after stroke, each one landing precisely overlapping the last so both burned much more intensely than either would have done on their own.

  She had never in her life been punished this way. Her bottom was a red hot mass of welts and still he was landing fresh strokes, which made her want to scream with anger and frustration. All she allowed herself were growls and grunts as some of the harder lashes landed on particularly sensitive spots of her anatomy.

  She was certain that the belt must be about to break skin when he stopped and let out a triumphant chuckle. “You’re wet.”

  “Liar,” she shot back over her shoulder.

  Without any further discussion, he thrust two fingers inside her pussy. It should have been a painful intrusion, but he was right. She was wet. Not just wet, but completely soaked. Her pussy clasped his fingers tightly, but welcomed the rough invasion.

  He began to thrust back and forth, hard and fast, finger-fucking her traitorous cunt as she finally lost control and began to wail. While her mind had been focused on hating him, her body had been reacting to something else entirely. She could feel the hot trickle of her juices on her inner thighs. Her clit was grinding against the rough fabric of the chair and her response was as powerful as it was inevitable. She came on his fingers, her pussy contracting hard against his digits, milking them as if they were a cock.

  Even as the orgasm rolled through her, Katie could not believe that she had cum for him. She could not fathom how her body could have responded to a man like Jason. He was everything she despised. He had captured her. Bound her. Beaten her. Yet her pussy was quivering with the aftermath of her climax—and things were about to take a turn for the worse.

  “You’ve taken your pleasure,” he said, coming to stand by her side, his hard cock now in his hand, the throbbing thick head menacingly protruding from his fist. “Now it’s time for mine.”

  “Put that thing in my mouth and I’ll bite it off,” she promised fiercely.

  “I’ll use your mouth later,” he said as he began to stroke himself. “Right now, I want you to know exactly where you stand with me, girl.”

  She watched, partially horrified, partially aroused, her wet pussy now devoid of his touch but still clenching as if it wished it were being filled as Jason stroked himself to a powerful climax, his semen shooting from his cock and landing in great ropey splashes against her cheek, lips, and nose.

  Katie let out a cry of dismay and surprise as she was coated in his cum. She could taste him on her lips and smell him, rich and powerful, as the scent pervaded her nostrils. Squirming did no good, except to make it run down her face and cover more of her skin.

  She let out a squeal of pure outrage as cum dripped from her chin onto the cushion below. “You… you asshole!”

  Jason made a tutting sound and shook his head. “Be a good girl and ask me nicely and I’ll clean you up,” he said. “Otherwise I’ll leave you like this and go have a nice shower myself.” He looked down at her, his eyes gleaming with triumph as his seed made a warm viscous path down her face.

  Katie gathered all her loathing into three words. “Go fuck yourself.”

  He smirked. “No need, is there, not now that I have you.”

  Her jaw dropped as he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her wet at both ends and thoroughly coated in his essence.

  * * *

  Jason closed the bathroom door behind himself and let out a long breath. The orgasm had been good, but this whole process was already harder than he wanted it to be. His instinct was to go back to Katie, untie her, clean her off, apologize profusely, hold her close, and never let her go.

  She looked just as he remembered her. Her figure had not changed a great deal. She still had a great ass and shapely thighs, toned, but not slim. Katie had never been a waif. She was feminine, but athletic and he’d never tired of running his hands over her hips, thighs, and derriere.

  Though five years had gone by, her facial features were likewise still so very much the same. So many nights he’d dreamed of her face, of those full lips that tended to a pout, her flashing blue eyes that could dance with mischief or narrow in malice, and her snub nose with a smattering of freckles that never entirely went away, even in the depths of winter.

  Restraining the urge to go to her was the hardest thing he’d ever done. If only he could hold her close and kiss her lips and her cheeks and every other part of her body until she screamed his name.

  But that wouldn’t work. That would get him dead and leave her in the same mental slavery she’d been in for five years. She’d looked at him with perfect loathing. He couldn’t blame her for it. He was the one who had instilled that cold killing potential in her. He was the one who had indoctrinated her into an organization that did not leave any part of its operatives untouched—including their minds.

  He had been one of them once, a perfect killer, conditioned by the same government agency. Once he had thought as she did, behaved as she did. He had taken his orders and he had carried them out without remorse or feeling. Until she had shown him otherwise, broken his conditioning by the sacrifice she had made. She had no idea who he was anymore, but she was the one who had set him free. Now he hoped to do the same for her.

  It wasn’t going to be easy. Her conditioning had been very specific and very sexual. He knew that because he had overseen it himself. To overcome it, he was going to have to dominate her to the point that it broke down and allowed her true nature to emerge. Katie wasn’t a killer, not in her heart. She was vital and she was dangerous and she was brave, but her first instinct had always been to preserve life. She’d saved his. More than that, she’d saved his soul.

  He turned the shower on and looked at himself in the mirror as the room began to fill with steam. It wasn’t his face he saw, really. He was playing the scene in his mind over and over again. The rounds of her cheeks writhing under his belt, her pussy flowering with need even as she cursed him for everything that he was.

  The silver lining of the situation was that Katie had always enjoyed being dominated. Though she fought it tooth and nail, her body always responded exquisitely to his touch. That was the key to freeing her mind. Total, utter, unrelenting sexual domination.

  As he stepped into the shower, a slow smile spread over his face. It wasn’t going to be an entirely unpleasant task. His detractors weren’t entirely off the mark when they reviled him as a sadist. There was something beautiful about the arch of Katie’s body when she quivered under his touch, caught between pleasure and pain, her panting resistance only making her inevitable surrender that much more delicious.

  For five long years he
had hungered for her. Yearned was perhaps a better word. His love for her had never wavered once in that time, and now that he had her, he was going to do anything and everything necessary to free her from the monster she had become.

  * * *

  Katie heard the shower running and the sounds of water intermittently splashing on the shower floor. He was actually leaving her there alone while he cleaned himself off. The asshole. The bastard. The sick fucking…

  She channeled her anger into something productive and began to squirm and wriggle in an attempt to loosen her bonds. She managed to get a little wiggle room around her thighs by swaying her body back and forth, using her legs like a pendulum. If she could just tip the chair over and land hard enough to break it, she might be able to free herself and sneak up on him while he was distracted, naked, and gloating in the shower.

  The first part of her plan soon came to fruition as one side of the chair lifted off the floor an inch or two, and then on the next rock the entire thing tipped over, landing her hard on the floor with a crash that was a lot louder than she’d hoped it would be.

  The chair seemed to have held its shape, but being on her side meant that she could at least wriggle around a bit. She began awkwardly snaking her way across the floor, contorting her upper body, then sort of dragging the chair with her. Progress was slow, but all she had to do was get to something sharp and shear her bonds. The shower was still running, which meant he probably hadn’t heard the noise thus far. She still had a chance of catching him unawares.

  It took several torturously slow minutes to drag her chair across to the table where her knives had been stashed for later disposal. She set about nudging the table with her knees until several clattered onto the floor, their sharp edges promises of escape.

  There was a lot more wriggling before she managed to turn around and take one of the knives in her tied hands. What followed was a frustrating attempt at cutting through rope while being almost unable to move.

  A masculine tutting sound made her freeze.

  “I leave you alone for five minutes, and look at what you get up to,” Jason said. He was wearing black tactical pants and a black vest, his hair was glistening wet, and his eyes gleamed with visceral amusement at her predicament. She could imagine how she looked, half naked and lying on the floor with a chair tied to her, her face still coated in his sticky seed. She must look like easy prey to a monster like him.

  He walked up to her, until his sock-clad feet were right in her face. He had large feet. Feet that managed to be intimidating all on their own. Katie took a deep breath and tried to get a grip on herself. She was reacting to every part of this man, and that was distracting.

  “Naughty girl,” he tutted as he bent over and laid a slap on her bare bottom. “Trying to escape, weren’t you.”

  “Of course I was!”

  “I suppose it is to be expected,” he agreed as he picked her and the chair up in one smooth motion, lifting her without any trouble at all. He was so damn strong. For the first time in a long time, Katie cursed her relatively weak frame. If she were just a little stronger, a little bigger, a little faster…

  “Let me see here,” he said. “What does a girl like you deserve?” He walked away for a moment to retrieve something. Katie tensed and shut her eyes, waiting for pain. She thoroughly expected him to beat her, or worse.

  Instead she felt something warm and wet on her face. It turned out to be a cloth, smoothing over her skin and removing the now sticky semen. A small mercy, and an unexpected one, but it did not go very far toward earning her goodwill. She was going to very much enjoy carrying out her mission as soon as she got the chance—and it seemed that she was going to get it, as Jason was more intent on toying with her than doing the sensible thing and disposing of her.

  “Better?”

  “Oh, yeah, thanks very much,” she spat sarcastically.

  “Ungrateful and irritable,” he noted mildly. “Your blood sugar must be low.”

  Katie’s blood sugar was the least of her concerns. She tensed as his hands went to her bonds and began to loosen them.

  Eager to take any opportunity for freedom, Katie yanked her hands free as soon as humanly possible, but her thighs were still tied to the back of the chair and all she could do was flail.

  “Settle down,” Jason said in that mild but oh so dangerous tone he had. “I promise you, if you try to fight me, things will go very badly for you.”

  “Things are already going badly,” she snapped.

  “They will go worse.” He tugged at the end of the rope and it fell away completely. Katie sprang up, ready to destroy him, only to find that he’d taken the precaution of pointing a gun at her.

  “Sit down on the chair, Katie.”

  Reluctantly, she did as she was told. As her backside met the wood, she felt a fresh hot tingle of sensation where he’d thrashed her, each lash of the belt igniting anew.

  “Uncomfortable, isn’t it,” he noted as he began to bind her to the chair once more. “There’s very little like sitting on a hard wooden chair after your bottom has been thoroughly lashed.”

  His tone was conversational, but his words almost made Katie blush. Everything Jason did was calculated to have some kind of an impact. Now she found herself tied just as securely as before, perhaps slightly less vulnerable in terms of access to her nether regions, but they were heated without him needing to lay a finger on her.

  “Now,” he said. “Food. I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of cuisine to offer,” he said. “But porridge should keep you going.”

  Ordinarily, Katie loved porridge. It reminded her of breakfasts with her grandfather when on cold winter days he would boil up a pot and coat the rolled oats in sticky brown sugar. Delicious.

  Jason put a pot on the stove and began to heat some hot water, milk, and rolled oats. She watched him angrily, knowing that this was no real kindness, but a vehicle to allow him to further torture her. If he didn’t feed her, she’d soon lose strength and eventually consciousness. Apparently, he wanted her alert for every little torment.

  It didn’t take long to prepare. Jason pushed Katie’s chair toward the table, sat down in the other chair and lifted a spoonful of porridge toward her face. “Open up,” he said, green eyes gleaming with perverse triumph.

  She wanted to keep her mouth firmly shut in spite of knowing that turning down nourishment was bad strategy. She’d need to keep her strength up. In the little time they’d been in one another’s presence, he’d taken so much from her. She wanted to reclaim a little ground, eat on her own terms.

  “Do I need to make choo-choo noises?”

  “You need to mmphhh…” Her words were cut off as he slipped the spoon into her mouth.

  “Good girl,” he encouraged her, filling the spoon again.

  Katie narrowed her eyes and spoke with complete derision. “Are you so afraid I’ll kill you with a spoon if you leave me one hand free to feed myself?”

  “I know you’re capable of all sorts of mischief with one hand, let alone a spoon,” Jason said. “So, for the moment you’ll have to put up with being fed this way I’m afraid, until I know I can trust you.”

  “Trust me? You’ll never be… mmmph!”

  Another spoonful of porridge made its way into her mouth, forcing her to stop arguing and swallow instead. It was completely maddening to be treated in such a way by a brute of a man, someone she knew had perpetrated unforgivable acts against the state and her fellow agents.

  “Relax,” he said. “You’ll give yourself an upset stomach if you keep fuming like that.”

  Katie fell silent and clamped her mouth shut. She’d eaten enough to ensure that she wouldn’t starve. She certainly wasn’t going to take part in this humiliating ritual anymore. When she didn’t open her mouth for the next spoonful, he pinched her nose until she ran out of breath and slid the spoon in yet again.

  “You need to understand,” he said as he began to scrape the bottom of the bowl. “I’m in charge
here, Katie. You can acknowledge that, and things will go easier for you. Or you can fight me. Either way, I’ll win.”

  “Asshole.” She ground the word out between clenched teeth.

  He raised a brow at her and shook his head. “Of course you’re going to do things the hard way,” he said. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from Oversight’s favorite little pet.”

  She stared at him, stony-faced as he gathered another spoonful of food. “One more,” he said.

  He tried the nose-pinching trick again, forcing her to once more open her mouth. This time, Katie had no intention of swallowing. As soon as the porridge hit her tongue, she spat it back at him, coating his chin and chest in glutinous goo.

  His eyes widened and for a split-second, he looked surprised. That flash of expression was enough to make her laugh. It was a small, petty revenge, but as that was all she had going for her at that moment it would have to do.

  He stood up, and for a minute she was afraid he was going to strike her. Instead he went to the kitchen bench and brushed off his face and shirt with a hand towel, a slow smile spreading over his lips. Now he seemed pleased by something. “You do realize you’re going to pay for that, don’t you.”

  She gave a little shrug. She didn’t care. What she had done could not be undone. He would not be unporridged.

  “Let me see,” he said, standing up and walking over to a leather bag. “What do I have in here for a girl who thinks her dinner looks better on me?” The question was almost playful, but what he pulled out of the bag was not. A gag. Of sorts. It was not solid, something that would prevent speech or complaint. It was circular in shape, with a hole in the center.

  Jason walked back over to her, put his hand under her jaw, and squeezed hard enough to make her open her mouth. The moment she did, he slid the gag in and deftly fastened it behind her head. With her lips spread around the device, her mouth was open in an uncomfortable and vulnerable position.