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26: Doctor Daddy (2)

Author: C.M.
last update publish date: 2026-06-19 12:59:04

The sterile air of Exam Room 3 hummed with a new tension. Alexa lay back on the table, the crisp paper crinkling beneath her. Dr. Anderson stood beside her, his focus obviously on the digital chart in his hand, but his presence seemed to fill every corner of the small space.

“The culture came back negative for any atypical bacteria,” he said, his voice measured and professional. “Given the persistence of your symptoms, I’d like to perform a more detailed pelvic exam today. We need to check for
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  • Tales Of His Obsession    45: Billionaire’s Daddy Challenge (8)

    One evening, after a particularly grueling week that had included a gala where he’d made her wear a remote-controlled vibrator throughout the entire event, he was quiet. He sat in his throne-like armchair, sipping Scotch, watching her as she stood by the window, dressed in one of his chosen silken robes. “Come here, Eleanor,” he said, his voice softer than usual. Wary, she approached. He took her hand and pulled her down to sit on the floor beside his chair, her head level with his knee. It was a position of supplication, but also of strange proximity. “You’ve been… exceptionally compliant lately,” he mused, stroking her hair. “The media lab is a success. The board of the city’s cultural foundation has agreed to make the center a permanent line item in its budget. Your work is done.” Her heart, which had grown cold and sluggish in its cage, gave a painful thud. “What do you mean?” “I mean the center is secure. It will thrive in perpetuity, regardless of you. My business with it

  • Tales Of His Obsession    44: Billionaire’s Daddy Challenge (7)

    In the bedroom, trembling, she obeyed. She stripped and assumed the position on the vast bed, her face pressed into the silk, her ass raised in the air. It was the most vulnerable, most submissive posture imaginable. When he entered the room, he was carrying something. A long, slender box. He set it on the bedside table and she heard the click of the lid opening. Her breath caught. He didn’t speak. She felt the bed dip as he knelt behind her. Then, a sensation of cool, smooth leather touched the small of her back, tracing down over the curve of her ass. A whip. A riding crop. “You need to learn the consequences of defiance,” his voice was calm, almost pedagogical. “And you need to learn the rewards of obedience. Tonight, we begin your training in earnest.” The first strike was not hard. A sharp, stinging tap on the swell of her right buttock. She flinched, a gasp tearing from her lips. “Count,” he commanded. “One,” she choked out. Another tap, on the left cheek. “Two.” The s

  • Tales Of His Obsession    43: Billionaire’s Daddy Challenge (6)

    Morning arrived not with sunlight, but with the soft, insistent glow of automated shades rising. Eleanor blinked awake, her body screaming in protest. Every muscle ached with a deep, satisfying soreness that was a testament to the thoroughness of her violation. The scent of Franklin, sandalwood, sex, and power, was embedded in the silk sheets, in the very air of the sterile bedroom. She was alone. For a moment, a wild, fleeting hope sparked. Had it been a terrible dream? She pushed back the covers. The dark bruises on her hips, the bite mark on her shoulder, the tender ache between her thighs, all were viciously real. She was in a cage. A beautiful, luxurious cage with a view of the world, but a cage nonetheless. The door to an en suite bathroom she hadn’t noticed slid open silently. Inside, it was a temple of marble and chrome. On the counter, laid out with surgical precision, was a selection of things: expensive, minimalist skincare, a toothbrush still in its packaging, and a sin

  • Tales Of His Obsession    42: Billionaire’s Daddy Challenge (5)

    The cold, unforgiving concrete of the penthouse floor bit into Eleanor’s knees. The panoramic view of New York, a sprawling empire of light, framed Franklin Delano like a dark god against the sky. He looked down at her, his expression one of absolute, primal possession. Her submission, there on her knees with her mouth open in silent offering, was more intoxicating to him than any corporate takeover. He didn’t rush. He savored the moment, his hand coming to cradle the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her dark hair with a grip that was both possessive and guiding. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a gravelly rumble of lust. “My beautiful, stubborn Eleanor, finally where you belong.” His other hand stroked his own length, a slow, taunting motion that made her whimper. The sight of him, so powerfully aroused, so completely in control, sent a fresh wave of slick heat between her own thighs. The shame of her body’s response was a bitter pill, but it was swallowed by the ove

  • Tales Of His Obsession    41: Billionaire’s Daddy Challenge (4)

    The week passed in a haze of sleepless nights and jumpy days. Every ring of the center’s phone, every official-looking car that slowed outside, sent a jolt of panic through Eleanor’s system. She moved through her routines, guiding small hands with paintbrushes, mixing glazes, balancing the meager books, but she was a ghost in her own life. Her mind was trapped in that sterile penthouse, under the weight of Franklin Delano’s hands, the taste of his power on her skin. Her body remembered. In the quiet dark of her small apartment above the center, her traitorous flesh would throb with the memory of his touch. She’d wake slick with sweat, not from nightmares, but from dreams drenched in a shameful, visceral heat, dreams where his stormy eyes held hers as he filled her, claimed her, ruined her. She’d scrub herself raw in the shower, but the feeling, the phantom sensation of his possession, wouldn’t wash away. He’d given her a week. A week to marinate in the violation, in the terrifying a

  • Tales Of His Obsession    40: Billionaire’s Daddy Challenge (3)

    The limousine was a rolling vault of polished black steel and supple leather, silent as a tomb. Eleanor, wearing the emerald dress as commanded, felt like a specimen under glass as the city lights slid past the tinted windows. She hadn’t dressed up. She’d simply obeyed. The fabric, which had felt like armor at the charity gala, now felt like a uniform of surrender. The car didn’t stop at a restaurant. It glided into the underground garage of Delano Tower, a needle of steel and ambition piercing the Manhattan skyline. A private elevator, its walls paneled in dark walnut, awaited. There were no buttons. The doors sighed shut, and it began its smooth, silent ascent. Her stomach tightened. This wasn’t a negotiation. This was an audience. The elevator opened directly into his penthouse. The view was the first assault, a panoramic wall of glass showcasing the glittering, indifferent sprawl of New York far below. The interior was a study in minimalist brutality: concrete, steel, sharp ang

  • Tales Of His Obsession    27: Doctor Daddy (3)

    The private consultation suite in the West Wing was a world apart from Exam Room 3. It was still clean, still medical, but softer. The lighting was muted, the walls a pale, soothing blue. There was a plush, padded examination table instead of a standard one, and a discreet cabinet of supplies. But

  • Tales Of His Obsession    24: The Submissive Daddy (4)

    Lawrence moved through the crowd like a ghost, finding the opulent, marble-lined restroom deserted. He stood there, confused, until the door opened and Seraphina slipped inside, locking the door behind her. In the stark fluorescent light, her dominance was even more intimidating. “You saw,” she s

  • Tales Of His Obsession    23: The Submissive Daddy (3)

    A week of torturous normalcy followed. Lawrence navigated boardrooms and business lunches, the hidden collar a constant secret against his skin. He was sharper, more present, yet part of his mind always dwelled in the crimson-and-black warehouse space, on her voice, her commands. Seraphina sent b

  • Tales Of His Obsession    22: The Submissive Daddy (2)

    The words hung between them, a sacred, profane vow. Seraphina’s smile deepened, becoming less cruel and more possessive. “Good boy,” she purred, and the simple praise ignited a flame of shameful pleasure in Robert’s chest. “The first lesson,” she said, her tone shifting to one of instructional com

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