La la la~

When you say that you’re exhausted, of course everybody relates. You get the “I know, I’m only running on five hours of sleep” or “me too, I really need my morning coffee”.

Fuck them.

Not all of them do it intentionally. But the ones that agree, then turn around and ridicule your sleep schedule? They don’t understand that getting out of bed is an exercise. That you can literally feel your eye bags weighing down your face, your mouth heavily struggling to smile.

5 hours of sleep? Cute. Try a consistent 12 hours every night, and still waking up exhausted. Try always needing a nap no matter how much you sleep.

You wished coffee would jumpstart your brain. Instead, you’re trapped in foggy, jumbled thoughts for the first hour of consciousness in the morning. And you’ll be lucky if it fully clears up by the time you get to work. And you’ll be extra lucky if your blood pressure survives standing up out of bed, finally getting up without your vision blacking out.

No matter how much you plead to doctors, or how much you chart your own symptoms, they look at you like you’re begging for chemo over a broken nail.

Yes, you’ve tried setting a routine. Yes, you’ve tried melatonin and meditation. You tried as much exercise as you could, but how bold of them to assume you have the energy to go to the gym in the first place?

Fuck all of it.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t hope for better days. Stuck wondering what it’s like to live life on a full battery. You’d give anything to feel alive, even for once.

Despite hundreds of treatments, experiments, and alternate doctors, you’ve never felt alive. Not until your bloodwork appointment with Dr. Victor Gideon.

————

You sit heavy and anxious in the examination chair. With as often as you’ve gotten bloodwork done? You should be able to tolerate it by now. Your primary doctor wanted to measure some kind of thyroid levels or whatever. Like everything else, you didn’t expect it to give you answers. But? Movement is still progress, so you begrudgingly put up with it.

With your long yet brittle nails cracking under your grasp, you pick at your hands while waiting for the doctor to enter. Half of today’s energy was spent just getting out of bed, looking presentable, and commuting to the lab. You weren’t in the mood for defending yourself today.

A swift knock on the door pulls you out of your thoughts.

You straighten your slump posture on instinct.

A tall, almost monstrously tall, doctor ducks under the door, flashing a gold-toothed grin. It’s almost a wonder how he found a labcoat long enough to suit his height and long arms. For such a big guy, he approaches you quietly, footsteps nearing silent. The closer he gets, the more you notice the delicate cracks littered across his skin, oddly contouring his broad facial features. It didn’t hurt that he had a unique charm and unwavering confidence…….it was kinda attractive.

“A new patient, I see? I look forward to our time together. I’m Dr. Victor Gideon, I’ll be taking care of you today.” His nasally voice hums through the air as he moves to shake your hand. Large hands engulfing yours, his silver rings send a chill up your arm.

Victor keeps hold of your hand as he moves to sit by a computer in front of you. Despite sitting, he still towers tall as your eye-line meets the name tag on his breast pocket.

“Now tell me, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” He pressed a quick peck to your knuckles, patting your hand before setting it back in your lap.

It felt instinctual, the way Dr. Gideon treated you with gentleness.

In any doctors’ defense, you’re younger than the typical patient that inhabits these symptoms. So a little special treatment and sweet talk isn’t completely out of the ordinary.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t ease the stress of being under constant medical examination.

But you’d also be lying if it didn’t make you feel like a child.

You let out a deep sigh before starting your now-scripted list of symptoms. Recalling it all, your eyes wandered the room. “I just have never been able to wake up rested. It doesn’t matter how long I sleep, 5, 8, 12 hours……”

The doctor’s eyes are locked on you, the work computer sitting neglected. As soon as you notice his lack of note-taking, you interrupt yourself.

“I’m sorry. I’m used to doctors needing an entire book of information to write down.” He is just a lab technician, not really a problem-solver in this process. So, you take yourself down a notch. “I know you’re not here for all that.”

Victor tilts his head inquisitively. “……but I am here for that.”

Then why isn’t he taking any notes?? Does he not care enough? You guess it doesn’t matter if he forgets you, as he’ll likely never see you again after today’s visit.

You quickly glance at the computer, noticing it’s set up and logged in, just that he’s refusing to utilize it.

Victor notices. “Ah. Do forgive me, I prefer not to riddle myself with databases while I speak to my subjects.”

Subjects…..did he mean ‘patients’?

“I understand that this process can be rushed for some, so I always ensure to listen to each symptom carefully.” He leans back, crossing his legs while lowering his gaze on you. “It just feels a little more…..intimate.” Golden teeth peek through his smirk, giving you an odd sense of ease.

“Now tell me, does this feeling persist no matter the time of day, or even despite the seasons?”

You pause. Is it bad that his question made you flustered? Feeling nice because he actually be asked about your symptoms?

Heart fluttering in your chest, thrown off by the gesture, you try not to be visibly affected.

“I…..I uh, I guess so? Like I’ve always been a night owl….” You cut yourself off, not able to think until you’ve addressed his unique demeanor.

“Y’know, I actually really appreciate you asking me that, doctor. It’s just weird cause I’m not usually paid attention to, more just prompted to talk at the wall.” You give a nervous chuckle, trying not to come across as a hater of all doctors.

Victor’s chin lowers, intent shifting to something more serious. “…..what do you mean?” He leans forward in his chair, resting elbows on his knees, as if drawn in by your words. Through grit teeth, he asks: “have you never been asked about your symptoms?”

“I dunno, sometimes I just worry I’m not taken seriously, I guess.” You draw yourself back a bit, fully expecting a lecture about what ‘perfect patient behavior’ looks like. Expecting him to tell you that you are the one either not asking the right questions, or not sharing enough information. Asking doctors too many questions has landed you in that position before. Great. Another dud treatment center to cross off the map and never return to.

“fucking incompetent fools.”

You snapped your head up at the doctor.

“Sorry, dear, it’s just-“ he lets out a frustrated groan as he stands. “It pains me to be surrounded by inconsiderate slobs in such an impactful field.” Victor brushes his crackled hand along your jaw, grabbing it to tilt your head and examine your face.

“It kills me that beautiful things such as yourself are so mistreated.” He tilts your head back to meet his gaze. “But don’t worry, Dr. Gideon will take good care of you.”

Your head warmly buzzes as you watch him pull on gloves and collect his medical instruments. You convince yourself it’s from fasting for 12 hours before the appointment.

The purple latex squeaks as it struggles to accommodate his large hands, bulging around his chunky rings. Thick fingers wriggling their way through the gloves, it seems as if Victor has control over every ounce of muscle within his body. You lose yourself thinking about his dexterity as you visually trace his larger-than-life veins that form valleys atop the gloves.

You’re probably telling him about your fatigue as Victor prepares to draw your blood. You can hear yourself rambling, so hopefully the inappropriate thoughts about your doctor don’t become verbalized.

“I assume, given the mistreatment of your previous doctors, that you weren’t told the amount of blood I’ll need to collect from you today?” Victor’s gentle voice is contradictory to his insult. Him and his equipment now stand at your right side. You shake your head ‘no’ in response. He clicks his tongue, pulling the case of 12 vials into your view.

12 vials????? The most you’ve ever had was 7, and even that was ridiculous. Especially for someone who gets squeamish at this sorta thing, this wasn’t going to be an easy draw.

Victor notices your body tense, reading you like a book. “You seem apprehensive…..not good with needles?” He dips his head to be eye-level with you. The doctor’s eyes dart back and forth between your eyes, scanning for any sign of distress or discomfort.

“No, I don’t mind needles. I just can’t watch it. The sight of it sinking into me……and the feeling of the blood coming out just…nnghuhhh” you shiver, not even able to finish your sentence.

“Ah, no worries. I won’t concern you with that. I’ll tell you when you’re safe to look, how does that sound, dear?”

“No, that’d be great, actually.” You brace yourself for him to tie the circulation-cutting elastic band onto your bicep.

But it never comes.

Instead, Victor’s meaty hand engulfs your bicep, squeezing until you feel the pressure in your bones. You jump on impact, turning to look. The doctor is too enamored with your skin to look at you as he speaks.

“Ah, ah, ah! Did I give you permission to look? I can’t have you passing out on me, now. I need to keep you as calm and still as possible. Can you clench your fist for me?”

You obey him without question, slowly turning your head back to the wall alternate of him. Flexing every muscle in your neck, you will yourself to stay still as you feel him trace for a vein.

“My….such marvelous veins you have. Beautiful, really.” Victor’s latex-covered nails smooth over the wrinkles of your wrist, delicately tracing each vein until it meets the crease of your elbow. The pooling of your blood combined with his air-like touch sends a heat through your body.

Good thing your blushing face is turned away from his view.

“I’ve heard of subjects with translucent skin, most common in the chronically ill, but never as entrancing as yours.” He runs up two veins at once, fingers pressing firmly along your forearm.

“Good little thing, staying so still for me.” You hear metal clinking and assume he’s moving to pick up the syringe. Your left hand digs into your clothing, bracing for impact.

He notices, of course.

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ve got you. We’re going to take deeeeep breaths and then I’ll insert the needle, ok? You’ll just feel a little pinch.” You nod in response, unable to form words. “Deep breath innnnnn…..” Victor breathes with you. “Aaaaaaand out…..” a sharp pain twangs your skin. To which, your breath stutters on the way out.

“Thaaaaat’s it, good girl. Keep breathing for me. Innnn…..” he coaches you through breathing, trying to distract you from the sucking syringe. It’s ridiculous, but you feel like a juice box in a toddler’s grasp. Or more-so, under a predatory grasp due to the way Victor’s still cutting your circulation off with his hand.

Mentally, you’re counting the clinks of the syringes as they hit the tray. Three, four, five have gone by when Victor notices color starting to leave your face.

“Hold on for me, darling, you’re doing so well.” Six clinks, and your leg starts to bounce. “You’re halfway there. Almost done, but I need you to stay still for me. Pain isn’t inflicted to good patients who listen.”

He clenches your bicep harder for emphasis, pulling a small whimper out of your throat.

Nine, ten, eleven clinks. Now should be the last one.

“Shhhhh, sh sh sh. I know, little one, I know. I know you’re uncomfortable but I’m so close. Let me take this, then I’ll be done.”

Lightheaded and face flushed, you must’ve lost count because another two vials hit the tray. Hearing cords pop off the syringe settles your nerves, knowing the needle is removed next.

Until a slight sting floods your vein. A warm and intoxicating feeling spreads through your body like wildfire.

You know the feeling of drawn blood by now, and that sting had to be something pushing into you rather than pulling something out of you.

Victor removes the syringe and bandages your wound without your notice. Your bicep screams for a stretch once he’s released his tight grip.

Dr. Gideon flicks his forked tongue along his glove, tasting a stray drop of your blood. You almost miss it out of the corner of your eye. Then, you convince yourself it was just your imagination.

“Aaaaaand, you are safe to look, my dear. How are you feeling, any discomfort?” The doctor asks as he rounds your chair to face you. To an outsider, his smile is warm and welcome. But now feeling fire in your veins? You can’t help but think it’s malicious.

“Just, um, a little woozy, I guess. Kinda hurt when you took the needle out.” Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt. He was really caring earlier, even a bit possessive after hearing about the doctors that mistreated you. Now shouldn’t be different.

“Perfectly normal, I’d say. Especially for someone who was required to fast for 12 hours before coming in today.” He offers you a hand to help you out of the chair. God, this mountain of a man towers over you even when standing. Literally, he blocks out the overhead lights as you stand beneath him.

Feeling your blood rush through your legs, your vision starts to black. Not unusual, but you definitely should rest before driving home. You sway into Victor, brushing against his stomach.

“Sorry, I should uh……. I should probably sit for a bit before I leave. Bad blood pressure, haha.” Victor hums and guides you to a spare exam table in the room next door. Without a word, he swipes you off your feet bridal style to lift you onto the bed.

“I wouldn’t dare let a subject faint under my care.” He winks before brushing your hair out of your face. Your limbs grow heavy as they hit the bed. Victor pretends not to notice as he leaves for the door. Furthermore, your vision should’ve returned by now…..but you just chalk its blurriness up to the excessive amounts of blood you lost to the vials.

“I’ll shut the door and dim the lights for you so you can rest before driving home. I can’t imagine the energy you expelled just to get here today. Very courageous of you.” He dims the lights, standing half in the doorway as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

“Just leave when you’re ready, it’s no rush.” He gives a warm smile before exiting the room with a soft click of the door.

Everything about this visit was riddled with red flags, but you can’t help feeling loved at the way Victor listened and cared for you.

In record time, no restlessness, no overbearing thoughts, you were asleep within the minute.

————

Your eyes flutter open as you feel energy flood through your limbs. The dim lights and crunchy exam table paper remind you that you’re still at the lab.

Damn, guess you really did need to rest. Stupid random naps always interfering with your schedule.

You prop yourself on your elbows to look around the room and relocate your belongings……only to see Dr. Victor Gideon sat in the corner working on a laptop.

“I’m sorry, love, I hope I didn’t wake you.” The screen omits a soft blue glow on the doctor’s face.

“No, no, not at all. I just hope I didn’t sleep too long. What time is it?” You yawn, stretching your arms over your head. Subsequently, your shirt rides up to expose your navel. You catch Victor staring.

He shuts the laptop, setting it aside before taking out a stethoscope and making his way to you. “Oh don’t worry, you weren’t out long. But I was waiting to check your vitals before you leave. It’s important to me that you’re safe to drive home after your rest.”

A soft clinking sound catches your attention as he sits in front of you. You notice a red vial hanging around his neck. Was he wearing that earlier?

“I haven’t had a subject fall so tired on me before……I want to make sure it isn’t related to your condition.”

You perk up. Condition?? Did he figure it out?

“Wait, did the results come back that fast?” You try not to get your hopes up, but there wasn’t a reason for him to lie to you.

“Not necessarily, but I tend to have a……sixth sense for this sort of thing.” He grabs the vial, running his tongue along its side. You watch in shock as a drop of red liquid beads on his split tongue, then quickly disappears behind his lips for a taste.

“Mmmmm. Yes. Tastes like….” You swear you black out once hearing his diagnosis. All these years??? And he finally figured it out?? It almost makes you forget his lewd gesture.

You launch yourself onto him, barely able to wrap your arms around his large figure as you litter him with ‘thank you’s.

“Oh, please. It’s simply my job. Any good doctor could’ve told you that.” Seems he couldn’t help himself from being passive aggressive towards your old physicians. “Now, I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but let me gather your vitals first.” He pushes you away by your shoulder, encouraging you to settle back on the bed.

Victor holds the stethoscope to your hand, measuring your heartbeat, then giving a kiss to your knuckles before moving to your chest. A red splotch, like a distorted lipstick print, is left behind in his wake. The print matches a red stain on his lips that he got from licking the vial.

Not only did he kiss you. He marked you.

Your pulse increases at the thought. After realizing he can hear your heartbeat, you worriedly lock eyes with Victor.

Fuck. Hopefully he doesn’t know it’s because of him. You try to divert his attention.

“Oh, uh, sir, you have some kind of mark on your lip. Are you ok?” You point at a spot on your lip that mimics the drop of red on his. Victor rolls his chair over towards a nearby counter to look in the mirror.

“Oh, silly me. It seems I’ve forgotten to reapply my lipstick after lunch. Forgive me for a moment.” He pops open the vial necklace, rubbing the viscous liquid over his mouth like lipstick.

Fuck, does he look good in red.

He blots his lips a few times before turning to flash a toothy smile at you, the makeup pooling in coagulated strands. Not even lipgloss pools like that. And come to think of it, you did swear that he took an extra vial of blood from you earlier this morning.

Dr. Gideon rolls back your way, grabbing your marked hand. That can’t be sanitary, right?

He holds the stethoscope to your chest, locks eyes with you, then leans down to kiss overtop the previous lip print.

Your heart rate skyrockets.

“My, my, it seems our fatigued little subject has gotten her energy back, hmm?” He flips your hand to leave a kiss print on your inner wrist. Your breathing audibly stutters.

Victor narrows his eyes at you, clearly devising a plan. “I have an idea, but I need you to take a deep breath in for me. Breaaatheeee innnn….” He brushes your hair away from your neck, shifting the stethoscope further down your chest, just grazing your nipple. “Aaaaand, breathe out.”

He sinks his teeth into your neck, dropping the stethoscope and grabbing a handful of your breast. It pulls a loud groan from your throat, eyes flying open. The doctor circles your nipple with his thumb while lavving over the neck bite with his tongue.

Neither of you need a stethoscope to know that your heartbeat has gone erratic.

“Now, how do you feel, darling?” His face now inches from yours as he continues to fondle your breast.

The mark on your neck stings akin to the syringe from yesterday. Now, the feeling jolts you with energy. Your limbs feel weightless and euphoric. Your brain fog cleared, leaving only the thought of Victor.

“I feel…….the most awake I have in years.”

Victor grins, slowly snaking a hand down to lift the hem of your shirt. “Well, then, I guess we’ve found our treatment, mmm?”

All you can muster in response is a nod before Dr. Gideon tears your clothes from your body. Frantically, he sucks and pecks every inch of skin on your torso. Seeing each red kiss marking your body, you feel a familiar heat bubble in your stomach.

Victor pays special attention to your neck, tracing your sensitive veins with his talon-like claws and whispering praises before giving them open-mouth kisses.

“I’ve never seen anyone like you.” Lick, kiss.

“Anyone so reactive as you.” Lick, kiss.

“You’re such a good subject.” Lick, kiss.

“So responsive and appreciative of my care.” Lick, kiss.

He moves, trailing marks down your sternum to focus his attention on your breasts.

“You’re such an ideal specimen. Beautiful inside and out, hm?” He pulls a nipple into his mouth, circling his tongue around it and gently pulling it into a suck with his teeth.

“Inside and out…..from what I can imagine. I’ll find out soon enough.” He moves to the other breast, leaving hickies around your nipple as a hand slides between your thighs.

You clench your legs shut, skin crackling with heat and electricity. You’ve had good sex before, but even on your best of days, your body never felt like this.

“Is this how sensitive I’m always supposed to feel?”

Victor stops dead in his tracks and lifts himself to rest his forehead on yours. His snakelike eyes glimmer. “After today, I’ll never let another doctor do much as look at you. When under my care, you will feel nothing but pleasure.” Your lips crash into one another, smearing the blood lipstick across your face. Tongues sliding against one another, your lips go raw as they brush the chapped lips of your doctor. They sting a bit, but god does the pain feel so good.

“You’re my subject now. Do you understand?” The hand between your legs parts your folds, touching everywhere except your clit. You tilt your pelvis in attempt to aid your burning need, but his strong hands deny you, pinning your hips in place.

“Answer me, sweetheart. I need you to use your words. Tell me what you feel, and answer my question.” Victor traces up and down your folds, never reaching high enough to give you relief.

With stuttering breath, you lick your lips, swallowing some of the metallicy blood before responding. “Yours, doctor, I’m all yours. Nobody has made me feel as good as you do.”

A devilish smile spreads across his face, and he rewards you by finally circling your clit. “There’s my good girl.” Your back fully arched off the table at his praise, whimpering with each delicate swipe of his thumb.

“Ah, ah, ah. What did I tell you earlier? Good girls stay still and let me treat them…..right?” His index finger starts to tease your hole, dipping shallowly.

You have so much energy in your body, that you literally cannot control it. With full-body twitches, your eyes bulge from your skull. Thankfully, you can still manage your words. “C-c-can’t stay still. Don’t……know….how……so……much……feel…..”

Broken grammar or not, Victor still understands you. “My poor little girl finally has energy and doesn’t know what to do with it. Let’s tire you out then, hm?” He sinks knuckle-deep into your cunt, your slick spilling against his palm. Doctors know their anatomy well, and Dr. Gideon isn’t an exception. He instantly abuses your g-spot, shushing you with each press to your delicate, spongy insides.

“I know, I know, it’s so much. But you’re being so good for me. We just need to aid your illness, is all.” Victor keeps pumping his finger into you, quickly adding a second to scissor open your flesh. You can’t do anything but moan at the stretch and watch as he rounds the table to stand in front of your legs.

His free hand snakes to wrap around your neck, deliciously adding pressure. “I’m serious about the squirming, though, love. You just need a little aid to ease the restlessness.” Victor pulls his fingers from your cunt, sucking off the juices while relishing your moan. He retrieves a bottle from the counter behind him, clicking open the cap.

What the fuck?? A bottle with no label or anything. Literally any chemical could be in there. Foggy brain still cleared, your mind floods with panic and tries to find a way out of taking the mystery substance.

Leaning to press his chest against yours, Victor looms over your body with the bottle. Your mouth stays clamped shut. The hand on your throat squeezes tighter, starting to restrict airflow. And damn, if the pressure still didn’t feel good. But you couldn’t give in. You still didn’t know what he was going to drug you with.

Victor’s thumb rubbed circles into the side of your neck as heat grew in your face. He made sure to pin your head in place so you were forced to look him in the eyes.

“I thought you trusted me? Said no other doctor cared for you like this? You should know by now that I’m not like those other fools. I could never hurt you like they did.” Your vision started to go blurry.

“You’ll have to come up for air sooner or later, sweet thing….” He rattled the bottle teasingly above you.

Maybe you could feign passing out, or whine loudly to signal nearby nurses that you needed help. There’s gotta be a way.

Until…..Victor wedged his knee between your legs to grind against your cunt.

Your jaw went slack from pleasure.

Cold liquid poured into your mouth, pooling at the back of your throat before Victor’s hand left you. You were forced to swallow. The doctor lightly slapped the side of your face in adoration.

“There’s my good girl. Just relax for me, you don’t have to do anything. Just let me treat you.”

The cold temperature from the liquid washed over your body, settling your energy as it went. Your head felt like it was in the clouds, but your body still buzzed with excitement.

You felt relaxed, but not exhausted. Still excited to have energy, but not overwhelmed and restless. Maybe Victor didn’t have malicious intent, because this felt like a heavenly middle ground between fatigue and anxiety.

You heard slicking sounds from between your legs, and tilted your head up to see your doctor stroking his dick. Not that you could move more of your body anyways.

His girth and length matched his height: monstrous. Uncut and littered with veins, Victor’s cock seeped pre as he got himself off to the sight of your limp body.

“See, sweet thing? Doesn’t this feel much better?” He begun tracing the veins in your inner thigh. You could barely mumble out a ‘mmhm’ as pleasure bloomed from each touch of his hands. Losing control over your body, you were just forced to feel and take whatever Dr. Gideon was about to give you.

“I promise, this won’t hurt. Just a little pinch, just like before.” Victor smirked condescendingly. “One more time, take a deeeeep breath in….” He breathed in with you, lining up his cock with your cunt. “…..aaaaaand breathe out.” Victor slowly eased into you. Your walls struggled to accommodate his size, but the inhuman stretch felt ungodly. He was so big that it felt like he sunk into you for minutes before finally reaching your womb.

You watched your legs twitch as his tip kissed your cervix, unable to look away from the point of connection between your two bodies.

“Now, now, darling. I thought you didn’t like the sight of something sinking into your body?” Victor teased as he slowly drew his cock out of you.

“Or are you already too fucked out to care?” He thrust himself to the hilt, earning a groan from you.

Dr. Gideon couldn’t hold himself back after that, desperately needing to hear more of your wanton noises. He pulls your hips up and down his cock rapidly, fucking you like his own personal fleshlight. And nothing brought him more joy than watching a dazed, relaxed patient feel good under his touch.

“God, you feel remarkable. Such exquisite vaginal strength, I can barely pull my own cock out. But……I simply need another taste of you.” You expect him to pull out and fuck you with his tongue, but instead he pulls a capped syringe out of his back pocket. Victor rips off the cap with his teeth and plunges the needle into your thigh.

You screw your eyes shut in pain, relishing the feeling of the sex but squirming at the feeling of the syringe. Dr. Gideon halts his thrusts to steady the sunken needle. He pulls his cock out just enough to leave his tip inside you. You feel him pull blood from your veins into the syringe as his cock slowly sinks back in: blood goes out while his dick goes in. The contradiction is overwhelming, and the bloodwork makes you deliciously lightheaded. All your concentration goes to your cunt and your thigh, only able to feel small twinges of pain accompanied by small thrusts of pleasure.

Victor removes the syringe, tilts his head back, and dumps the blood into his mouth like taking a shot. A deep groan rumbles from his chest. You watch as his thrusts pick up speed again, his snakelike tongue flicking out to catch blood remnants on his lips.

With the now freshly applied blood lipstick, Victor leant down to press new kiss prints onto your abdomen.

“You see these marks? This means you’re mine. This body….” He kisses lower. “This womb….all…..mine.” He leaves two more kisses before rubbing your clit rapidly.

“Any other doctor that moves to treat you will see these marks and know you’re taken.” Your cunt squeezes around his shaft, legs now trembling from the stimulation and praise.

You so badly want to egg him on, praise him back and beg to be claimed by him. But you don’t even have the muscle control to pull a smile. All you can do is hope your body responds to your needs, and that he can read you like a book.

And he can.

“My delicate little subject, do you like belonging to me?” You unconsciously arch your back off the table. The heat in your womb is becoming unbearable, and you can’t do anything about it.

“You’re getting close, too, I can tell. Just focus on how deep I’m fucking you. Focus on the chills that flood your body each time I bump your cervix. Think about how easily you bruise, and how my fingerprints will be embedded onto your hips for weeks.”

God, you’re so fucking close.

“I noticed a caretaker did not accompany you today. Think about how I could take you home and really make you mine…..knocking you up and making you feel good forever. You’re too beautiful not to care for.”

Your orgasm crashed into you, heat and energy running rampant throughout your body.

“That’s a good girl. Take what your doctor gives you. Feel it out…..I love seeing you squirm for me.” Victor praises you through it, nearly sending you into another fit in itself. He brings a hand to your face, massaging your jaw and bringing you in for a passionate kiss as your breathing settles.

“I know you can’t move very well, but blink twice for me if you feel better.”

You frantically blink in sets of two.

Victor beams with pride, but shifts demeanor in realization.

“How rude of me. You’ve been fasting for hours and I still haven’t given you something to eat.” He slowly pulls his length from you, spilling your slick onto the table. You whimper at the loss, but quickly realize…….Victor never came.

He rounds the table, moving to stand behind your head. A hand cards through your hair, chapped skin catching on a few strands. Your eyes flutter open to see him holding his cock over your face. He grabs you by your shoulders, pulling your body closer to him so that your head dips off the edge of the table. As it dips, he eases his cock into your mouth. You feel it curve with the anatomy of your throat, nudging its way past your tight muscle.

You would give anything to be able to run your tongue along his shaft and explore under his foreskin, but the damn medicine still hasn’t worn off. Your limp tongue is forced to thrust into your throat with Dr. Gideon’s movements. The salty pre doesn’t even grace your taste buds, but simply runs down your esophagus.

Hearing his grunts with each pump is more than enough to make up for your lack of muscle control. Victor’s nails dug into your scalp, holding on for dear life. Your face growing warm from the blood rushing to your head, the doctor’s scalp scratches sent a tingly feeling down your neck as it stimulated your circulation. Between the altered blood flow, Victor’s moans, and the feeling of his hips begin to stutter, you felt high off of him.

Victor notices you gag, and settles for shallow thrusts into your mouth. Speechless at the feeling, it only takes him a few more pumps before hot, salty cum is shooting down your throat.

And you swallow every drop. The salt aids your dizziness, a common remedy for poor blood pressure. You even feel your stomach grow heavy from the nutrients, warm and happy to carry his seed.

Victor leans down to give your forehead one more bloody kiss before dressing you back into your clothes.