Doctor Knows Best Ch. 02

Chapter 2 Ladies! I hope you enjoy.

Thank you for reading and know that I really enjoy hearing any thoughts you have on the story, kinda 'fuels' my inspiration.

Wynne is in for some interesting times.

*****

I was still pissed about him not taking me home. Then again it didn't seem like he was holding me against my will No one in their right mind would think I was a prisoner. Irregardless I WAS a prisoner; my therapist trapped me using my own condition against me and claimed he was helping me. Yeah...helping me, making me wear panties day in and day out, giving me chick workout clothes to work out in. Putting me on a diet, making me work out, if you can call yoga a work-out...fuck... yeah it does sound like he was helping me...but he wouldn't help me LEAVE and that was the problem.

Ian wasn't joking about rules, but I wasn't expecting the ones I got. I was thinking, 'put coasters under the cups' vacuum the living room.' That kinda shit, but chores were not part of the 'rules' those were simply 'chores'. Least he didn't ask me to cook...actually he was very...territorial about the kitchen.

The 'rules' he was talking about a few days ago were all pretty basic bullshit. I was to keep doing everything I had been, working out, and eating right...wearing these ridicules fucking clothes. But the difference was after my work outs I wasn't aloud to wear 'whatever' I wanted. Ian started choosing my outfits for me rather than letting me rifle through the little Ikea closet he picked up...on my dime. But the outfits were less work out ish and more and more...embarrassing. I wasn't happy, and sure as hell wasn't going to wear the skirts.

Ian made one thing abundantly clear, things were going to get worse. He'd found something I dreaded almost as much as everything passed his front door, and he wasn't about to let go of that particular weapon. Those gad damn spandex itched like a bastard and hugged every inch...it was full lower body grope. Reminded me of getting a check up, only no one slipped a finger in my ass to check my prostate... Not yet anyway.

That brings me to an argument we had... or rather him pointing out bald logic and me calling him a 'quack' for even suggesting I 'might be more comfortable if I shaved my legs.' Fucker*sigh*. He was right, then again I really didn't have much work in that respect.

"Is it wrong to love smooth skin, I shave my chest all the time." Ian pointed out.

"Yeah and you balls too! Wear a towel please..." Yeah Ian had a habit of air-drying after his showers. I'd always be eating or 'just' finished some meal or other and their he came, his 'albino anaconda' flapping in the breeze...*shudders* Swear the thing's gonna bite me.

"Yeah, and miss you blushing every day? Not a chance." Asshole, I blamed on my general discomfort with this whole situation, and the fact I hadn't...tuned...up...the...band... in three weeks. From time to time I'd get all warm and have a hard-on I could beat someone to death with. But who can solve a set of blue balls in a strange place...tried in the shower a few times but somehow Ian knew and came in to use the facilities or the water would suddenly run too hot or too cold. It was evil. It was planned. I never have found his 'cameras' or I'm just cursed.

Smug as always, but in the end I folded. He'd look at me with that heavy stare, and I'd say he was right and I do what was 'best'. "Besides, you're what Brazilian? Can't be that much to shave." I wish he'd stop repeating my thoughts out loud...it was a tad creepy.

"Half...I'm a bit exotic, the ladies love it!"

"Just ladies? I beg to differ." There he went again, hitting on me, without hint of shame. I still remember him slapping my ass and that fondle...and I wish it wasn't a pleasant memory. Living with him for a week I learned he was gay, there was no doubt. Ian never hid it from me, even watching TV he'd make some comment toward the leading men and put a hand on my now 'silky' thighs while I was wearing spandex booty shorts. I'd gotten more 'polite' in refusing his advances, used to punch him in the ribs for getting handsy.

In the following three days, I'd been tasked with 'chores'. Mostly cleaning and dusting, but the laundry...that was a test. It was downstairs, and he gave me a deadline, I had a week to walk ten floors of an apartment building by myself. Doesn't sound bad, but you don't feel like the walls are closing in, the people out for your blood, that the air is going to turn to poison...a million terrible things seem possible all at once. Welcome to my problem. He left the punishment or rather the price of not getting that done a mystery to me. Cruel isn't it.

Still I had four days left, and I was sporting serious wood. Ian having gone grocery shopping and me on my laptop in the living room, I couldn't ignore it anymore, and there was this amazing little video online. This woman getting tag teamed and splattered with hot mess! So HOT but the guys were just as amazing as she was, I figured triple the fun...THAT didn't last long.

"WYNNE!" My blood ran cold... I stuffed my six stubborn inches into my too tight pants...or rather I tried...panties are not hard-on friendly...actually...they're too friendly.

I looked over to see him take on almost a whole new personality. Shutting the door coldly, setting his groceries down, while made a break for the 'guest' room. "I-I ah...Ian, y'know I've been a little...cooped up an-an." I was cut off when he trudged over and locked a grip into the waist band of my bottoms his other hand pulling me out again. I was terrified; I'd never been handled like that before...not so roughly. His grip on my cock was iron and he pulled me to 'his' room and pushed me onto his bed. I was stuttering and trying to curse him out but paralyzed all the same.

My shorts and my panties were nearly torn as he wrestled them from me. God he was 'relentless' and wasn't going soft despite how afraid I was. I had no idea what he was going to do and I never would've guessed either. "What do you think you're doing Wynne?" A Calm but cold tone coupled with a wicked grin on his lips as he stroked me, my hips rocking as his firm hand teased and tugged. I grabbed his wrist trying to stop him...but apparently I was either too weak or not really trying.

I knew damn well what he was doing. On many a lonely night, I'd indulged in 'edging' it was one of my favourite pastimes. Ian worked me over till I moaned and stopped me short the first time with a tug on my boys. I hit him and he just laughed "C'mon Snoe, moan, you cannot believe how sweet your voice is right now." One thick hand pinned me to the bed by my shoulder the other so...OH GOD. I moaned and moaned, whimpering pathetically when he cruelly and expertly denied me. Ian describing how a balled my fists into the blankets and raked through my long black hair. How my legs wriggled and my toes curled. How I tried to buck into that warm grasp only to be held still by his weight.

Impossibly frustrating, scary but it felt AMAZING. I guess you could say closing my eyes and letting him maul me, was ironically an eye opener. And He did maul me, in a sense. He kissed me on the lips and then down to the side of my neck...I could feel his teeth...I cannot emphasize how much that worked me up...still does for that matter.

For a brief moment I felt all that intensity drift away. The weight, the heat, the grip! My eyes sprang open to seen nothing, looking down to see my tortured and teased cock bobbing in need and there Ian waited for me to find him. A long harsh lick and he curled my spine, followed sharply by a shrill needy moan and my eyes snapped shut. My captor, my tormentor and more surprisingly my therapist was giving me a blowjob! And he was going to town!! I was practically screaming and clawing at the bed sheets by the time he finished me off.

Panting and sweaty I lay there in Ian's bed, trying to restart my brain. It wasn't working. Ian just tucked me into bed...apparently I don't remember much of the afterglow accept for his whispering in my ear "You owe me." If only I had two brain cells to rub together at that point, I'd have known what he meant.

Ian woke me up sometime after dark. An awkward moment...for me. I didn't know what to say to him, I wanted to pretend nothing happened. Not easy when I was naked from the midriff down and sleeping in 'his' bed. "Wynne, you alright?" He asked again.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine..." For fuck-sake I couldn't even look the man in the eye. I was afraid I'd see my cock in his mouth again*snickers*.Truth be told getting blown by Ian doesn't happen often, and it's always on 'his' terms. Always in control...it's kinda freaky.

"A little bit of brain damage, maybe I sucked a little too hard." Confident, joking and looking at me like that was very off putting. "C'mon you smell like sex lets get you washed up." He pulled the covers back and I yanked them back on.

"W-w-wait a fucking minute!" I wasn't 'that' comfortable with him...He'd assaulted me...sort...of???? I think this would be a new legal precedent. I couldn't exactly say to a judge 'yes my therapist 'blew' me against my will.'

"Don't be a tart Wynne, I just did you a favour...you were REALLY into it by the way." I didn't say anything, I just clutched the blankets confused. Ian was astonishingly good at turning everything topsy-turvy and there he was coaxing me out of bed. The words caught in my throat were ones pleading for some modesty but irregardless I was slowly pulled from the bed and I was struggling to cover up. Ian was looking at me with an annoyingly amused face. "See you shaved."

"Shut up." I was feeling clever.

"You really are hold-up inside your own head, wont take chances unless they're pushed on you...or forced." Ian wasn't wrong, and he was laying out what he saw and what would continue to happen. "You better get used to being 'seen' Wynne, A LOT of people will be looking in the future, I promise." That was supposed to be supportive, like I was meant to be in the spotlight but I felt a cold twist in my guts. My body seemed to know the future, wish it had given better hints.

SO, pressured into panties, transitioned into woman-ish clothing, forced to receive a blowjob, and then I was sharing a shower. I was getting gayer by the day and also becoming a little worried. On the bright side Ian's shower was AMAZING, a 6'x6'x9' glass box with non-slip ceramics and waterfall showerhead. I loved that shower, I didn't like sharing it...at first. The glass did NOTHING to hide the person using it...big display case really, just kept the rest of the room dry.

I kept saying to myself, 'it was all Ian'. He was playing me like a puppet and enjoying every second of it.

A few days passed and I was 'recovering' from the shock. Ian was worried at how distant I'd become, but I was getting better at trying to return to the whole 'buddy' thing. He brought up the subject a few times, didn't get much back talk from me. Which meant I wasn't quite ready to admit or even register it quite yet? That changed, one night watching a movie. During a sex scene I just blurted out "OH c'mon I moan better than that!" Laughing until I realized what I'd said.

Ian was smirking as usual "Glad to see you're sense of humour is coming back. And I agree. You're a natural babe." He gave my leg a little stroke, drifting to my inner thigh. This time I hesitated but I still pushed his hand aside.

"Hold it there sailor, round two is a long way off." Ian looked at me with a knowing glare like he was saying 'if only you knew'.

"Let me know when you're ready for round two...oh and its laundry day tomorrow. I'll take you down there tomorrow." Again the cold twist.

"Whatever, but call me babe I again I'm going to stab you." I made a joke to block out the idea of having to go 'out there'. I had NO idea what was going to happen, it was Friday. My deadline was up and I didn't really put much effort in getting down to there in the last few days.

I couldn't sleep, I felt something terrible coming. My memory of that day is still so vivid, Ian laid out my outfit for the day cropped plaid button up. Showed off my toned girlish abs, the long sleeves failing to make up for the rest of the missing material. A flimsy set of purple satin under things the clefts of my ass hanging out and matching the jean shorts...I was getting sick of this and I didn't see the reason to keep dressing like this. Losing faith in Ian's method, but then again I'd been cooped up and wearing this shit for so long that maybe I'd gotten too used to it. Looking into the mirror I still saw me, just I looked like some slutty tomboy...or a sassy twink...the difference being a pair tits or a pink scarf...I was teetering on a dangerous edge.

That thought changed the second I stepped out, and Ian made me leave the trench coat. My hands were shaking, Ian leading his little frightened tart by the hand. One thing was for sure I wasn't scared for my 'life' like usual. I was scared shitless someone would see me like this!

Ian was quiet and carried his hamper and made me carry mine. My ass hanging out as it was made me tremble. Lets say my priorities should've else where but I was astonished at how far I was getting dressed like I was. We made it "WE MADE IT!" I was ecstatic, so much so that I hugged Ian...why the fuck I did that...I dunno. Maybe being around him so often and then doing something I didn't think I could...

"Yes..." He sighed with a disappointed sigh. Ian was hoping that I could've done this on my own...maybe. Or he was acting that way...I like to think he was 'acting'. It makes what happened after we got the laundry started easier to swallow.

The machines started, Ian had that look in his eyes, the one he held when he had me on my back. "Wh-what's going on Ian?" I was starting to get a little nervous.

"You failed, I gave you a time limit," I swallowed my heart back to my chest "and you're in my dept, so..." The whisper came rushing back to me 'you owe me'. "You have the option to walk out of this room and go home, and if you can I've done my job...but if you can't you're going to do anything and everything I tell you or I will leave you down here." Ian paused to let my fear bubble and stew...he wasn't serious about leaving me hear alone, dressed like this...alone. Was he?!

"What the fuck are you talking about? You can't do that, that that that that's inhumane!"

"I've been easy on you Wynne, and its not helping you are not making enough progress." Ian explained his reasons but knowing where this was going, he never really spoke his main reasons. "You're going to get on your knees unzip my jeans, pull out my cock and repay my kindness." All of the options laid out the answer would've been dead simple to anyone...anyone else. Between sucking a man off and being left in the laundry room, I'm sure I know what any 'sane' person would've chosen. I stood there eyes tearing up in the frustration and fear...the humiliation building higher. What if someone came in?! They'd see this twink bobbing and slurping, but as I thought about it I didn't want to die...yes...I felt like if I was left here alone that I would ultimately die.

So those innocent choices were much more grave in my twisted little mind. Humiliation or Death, now of those two which would you choose. I begged, tears dripped from my eyes but Ian didn't flinch with arms crossed "Please Ian don't make me do this?! Please!"

"I'm not making you do anything, you have a choice here, and I'm going to support you in any choice you make now choose." Fucking asshole, making it look like he was 'helping' me. Fucker was using me to get his jollies. I didn't have any choice! The tears wouldn't stop but I ended up dropping to my knees in front of him. Gritting my teeth and whimpering as my shaking hands fumbled and struggled at the button and zipper.

I hated him, I hated myself. Still I didn't stop my snail's pace as reached into those tight boxer-briefs. Tentatively pulling that monster into view. That soft cock growing as if to challenge me, stare back at me. Ian looking down with his hands now at his sides. He kept quiet didn't antagonize me, probably didn't want me biting him.

His snake half hard and aimed at my lips by shaking hands "I really...hate you right now." I whimpered quietly. No response even when I pressed my plump lips to the head of that growing beast, reluctant to let it pass. I had to fight to unclench my teeth opening wide enough to let that 'thing' enter without touching my tongue. Staring up at Ian who just raised an eyebrow, telling me 'well? Get sucking.' He never said it out loud but that's what I saw.

I shuddered in disgust as I let my tongue and lips rest and then seal around it. Puckered and barely a few inches in, the rest of that eight inches with my fingers lightly holding it in place. I had no clue how to suck a cock, and it was damn obvious and a little awkward. Hating that salty musk on my tongue. I tried to imagine all that porn I watched and drew. Pulling back to the tip of Ian's length dragging my tongue roughly along the underside, gliding under it and sucking like I would on a straw.

Ian shivered and smiled down at me. I must have done something right...Why was I proud of that?! I hesitantly sucked back a few inches into my mouth, managing only half of him until it met the entrance of my throat. I immediately pulled off when my gag reflex kicked in, coughing and sputtering.

"That's alright Wynne you can do this, just take as much as you can, breathe through your nose, and slide your tongue back and forth, don't take more than you can handle." He was fucking coaching me... his now cock now shining with saliva; I took a deep breath and tried again. His advice worked well enough and I noticed one thing that I would always notice for every blowjob that came after. I could feel everything, his shudders twitches and even how fast his heart was beating. I kinda felt powerful...funny thing to say with a mouthful of dick. Ian was definitely enjoying it, his pulse had quickened and he was really trying hard not to hump face.

A few more advances and retreats Ian's hands hooked into my long hair, just holding on as I finally found a rhythm. I heard myself slurp and suck over the rumble of the washing machine, and Ian's voice raising. He was close and I sped up just to get this bullshit over with. And I found out why he hooked his fingers into my hair. The hard throb came and I snapped out of my trance, 'retreat' was the thought only I couldn't. Another quick throb and a hot salty squirt filled my mouth, and I was screaming around his fuckmeat and beating at his hips with my fists. A few gushes of hot cum flooding my mouth dripping past my lips and gulped down if only to help me breath.

Fucker made me swallow. I could feel it slide down my throat in the worst way and weigh on guts. Ian let me off his cock but didn't let go of my hair. "Be a good girl and clean up." He held me nose to nose with his soggy cock. I wanted to scream, to vomit, to curse him out. But I didn't do any of that; I was still terrified and desperate not to be left there.

I licked him clean, and wiped my face before I found my voice "You mother fucker!"

"I did the same for you Snoe," using my last name in a cutesy tone pissed me off, but the way he spoke to me after had me shocked "by the way has anyone told you that you are one noisy cocksucker."

He'd been cordial with me up until then, polite, helpful, kind even, but after he felt that power over me it was like a veil had been lifted back.

'Noisy little cocksucker' my first pet name...

TO BE CONTINUED

Doctor Knows Best Ch.3 Meeting the REAL Ms Vight

I can't tell you how low I felt at that point... How much I hated him, and myself. I couldn't admit that even when I was gagging down what felt like a gallon of salty seed...that I was as hard as steel. A long quiet few moments I didn't get up off my knees till I was sure I wasn't going to tear my panties...that sounded as bad to me as it did to you... get over it.