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28: Doctor Daddy (4)

Author: C.M.
last update publish date: 2026-06-20 13:55:54

The following evening at 8 PM, Alexa was once again in the blue-walled suite. The air was cooler, carrying a faint, clean antiseptic scent that did nothing to calm her nerves. She obeyed his instruction, the soft cotton gown tied loosely in the back, her body bare and sensitive beneath it. Every shift of the fabric felt like a whisper against her skin, a constant reminder of her state of undress, of readiness.

Dr. Anderson entered precisely on time. Tonight, he’d forgone the white coat entirel
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  • Tales Of His Obsession    49: The New Boss Daddy (4)

    The email from Evelyn Lowe’s assistant arrived at 8:03 AM, a terse request for a 9:30 AM meeting. No subject, no context. Ava’s stomach plummeted. She knew. They knew. The walk to Evelyn’s corner office felt like a death march. The older woman’s space was all soft grays, elegant orchids, and quiet, devastating power. Evelyn didn’t rise from behind her minimalist desk. She gestured to a chair. “Sit, Ava. Close the door.” Ava did, her hands cold. She sat, spine straight, trying to project a confidence she didn’t feel. “Your work on the Henderson pivot has been… transformative,” Evelyn began, steepling her fingers. Her gaze was like a scanning laser. “You’ve shown strategic vision beyond your years. Julian was right to champion you.” “Thank you, Ms. Lowe.” “Which is why what I have to say is so profoundly disappointing.” Evelyn’s voice cooled by twenty degrees. “The board is aware of your… extracurricular relationship with Mr. Sterling.” Ava opened her mouth to protest, a weak, in

  • Tales Of His Obsession    48: The New Boss Daddy (3)

    The lines didn’t just blur; they were systematically erased. Julian began inviting her to high-stakes client dinners, not as a subordinate, but on his arm. He introduced her as his “secret weapon,” his eyes holding a private, heated message meant only for her. During a dinner with Japanese investors, he let his hand rest on the small of her back the entire evening, his thumb stroking idle circles through her dress. When she excused herself to the restroom, he caught her wrist. “The black lace,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration. “The one with the little bow in the front. You’re wearing it.” She flushed, having followed his earlier texted command. “How did you know?” He gave her a wolfish smile. “Because I can see the outline of the bow through that dress when you stand in the light. It’s all I’ve been able to think about all night.” He released her with a soft pat on her behind. “Hurry back. I’m not done looking at you.” The real collision course was set for the firm’s Ann

  • Tales Of His Obsession    47: The New Boss Daddy (2)

    The week that followed was a study in exquisite, nerve-shredding tension. By day, Lilah was the sharp, focused junior executive, attending meetings, delivering reports, and exchanging polite, professional nods with Julian Sterling in the halls. By night, she was his secret. It began again two nights after their initial encounter, with another 7 p.m. calendar invite labeled “Henderson Account Deep Dive.” Lilah’s hands trembled slightly as she straightened her skirt before entering. When the heavy oak door clicked shut behind her, the atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. The air grew thick, charged. Julian was at his bar cart, pouring two fingers of amber liquid into a crystal tumbler. He didn’t turn around. “You’re two minutes late.” “The elevator was slow, sir,” she said, her voice betraying a hint of breathlessness. He turned then, leaning back against the cart, assessing her. He was in his shirtsleeves, the top button undone, his tie loosened. “In my office, after hours, th

  • Tales Of His Obsession    46: The New Boss Daddy

    The air in the 42nd-floor boardroom was so crisp it felt surgical. Ava Cole sat ramrod straight in her chair, her tailored navy sheath dress a uniform of quiet ambition. She was the youngest junior account executive at Sterling & Lowe by a decade, a fact she wore like a chip on her shoulder. Her presentation on the Henderson account was flawless, every data point sharp, every projection airtight. Yet, the only metric that mattered now was the approval of the man seated at the head of the obsidian table: Julian Sterling. He wasn’t just the new CEO; he was a force of nature. At fifty, Julian carried his success like a bespoke suit, impeccable, intimidating, and undeniably attractive. Silver threaded through his dark, close-cropped hair, and his eyes, the color of a stormy sea, missed nothing. He’d listened to her entire pitch without a word, his long fingers steepled under his chin. The silence stretched, thick enough to choke on. “Ms. Cole,” his voice was a low baritone that vibrat

  • 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    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    3: Dares & Daddies (3)

    The scent of sex now hung in the air, thick and musky, mingling with the woodsmoke and whiskey. Lola lay sprawled on the crimson cushion, her chest heaving, a fine sheen of sweat making her skin glow in the firelight. She made no move to cover herself. The act of being so publicly consumed had sh

  • Tales Of His Obsession    2: Dares & Daddies (2)

    The air left the room. Lola’s eyes widened. She looked at the other women, finding no rescue, only a mix of shock and morbid fascination. She looked at the men. Their expressions were unreadable, patient, expectant, hungry. This was the line, the moment where the fantasy of easy money met the grit

  • Tales Of His Obsession    1: Dares & Daddies

    The sleek black limousines purred up the winding, tree-lined drive of the Montgomery Estate, one after another, their tinted windows reflecting the dying embers of the sunset. Inside the third car, Willow bit her glossed lower lip, her fingers nervously twisting the strap of her tiny sequined clut

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