Doctor's Reward: A Forced Delight

The fluorescent lights of the clinic hummed, casting a sterile glow over the waiting room. My wife, Sarah, fidgeted beside me, her leg bouncing nervously against mine. She’d been anticipating this checkup for weeks, a ritual she usually endured with a grimace and a mumbled complaint. But today was different. Today, she’d been promised a reward: a shopping spree, courtesy of my discretion. I’d agreed, of course, under one condition – that I get the final say in her purchases. A little control always pleased me.

The doctor, Dr. Harding, was a man of unsettlingly intense eyes and an even more unsettlingly casual demeanor. He introduced himself with a dry, professional smile, then launched into a lengthy explanation about the importance of self-exams. Frankly, it was tedious, but I focused on the task at hand: maintaining a gentle, reassuring pressure on Sarah’s knee, subtly reminding her of the pleasure awaiting her after this ordeal. The scent of antiseptic hung heavy in the air, mingling with the rising heat in my own groin.

As Dr. Harding ushered her into the examination room, a wave of anticipation washed over me. The stark white table, the cold metal instruments laid out neatly, the sheer vulnerability of her nakedness – it all ignited a primal response within me. My cock throbbed, eager for the release that was about to come. I shifted my weight, deepening the pressure on her knee, subtly sending a silent message: let’s get this over with.

The doctor began his demonstration, explaining the proper technique for palpating the breasts – a circular motion, starting at the armpit and moving down to the cleavage. As he moved his hands over her, I mirrored his movements, my own hands unconsciously mimicking his touch. The sensation was electrifying, a delicious dance between pleasure and control. When he reached the nipples, he pinched firmly, checking for discharge. Without hesitation, I followed suit, my fingers digging deep into her sensitive flesh. A wave of hot pleasure surged through me, a potent mix of arousal and dominance.

He moved on to the other breast, repeating the process. The anticipation built, my muscles tensing with each passing moment. It was then, as he prepared the stirrups, that I noticed the subtle shift in Sarah's demeanor. Her initial apprehension had dissolved, replaced by a hesitant, almost desperate longing. Her thighs tightened involuntarily, a clear signal of her own mounting excitement. The sight of her legs spread wide, exposing her delicate pink flesh, was both shocking and utterly captivating.

Dr. Harding, oblivious to the silent exchange between us, continued his methodical examination. He adjusted the stirrups, positioning himself for the internal exam. As he gently inserted the speculum, I couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, captivated by the unfolding spectacle. The opening of her vaginal canal, a slow, deliberate reveal of her most intimate secrets, was a breathtaking sight. My cock surged forward, desperate to claim its prize.

As he explored her depths, my own arousal intensified, fueled by the sheer pleasure of watching her respond. The scent of her arousal, warm and intoxicating, filled my senses. The doctor, engrossed in his work, remained completely unaware of the silent battle raging within me. I held my breath, savoring each moment, each sensation.

Finally, he withdrew the instrument, his movements swift and professional. He cleaned his hands, his gaze momentarily meeting mine. A flicker of amusement crossed his face, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken desires that hung heavy in the air. He then proceeded to explain the importance of regular pelvic exams, dismissing the discomfort with a shrug and a dismissive wave of his hand.

Just as he finished speaking, a nurse burst into the room, interrupting our intense connection. "Doctor, we have a patient in room three who requires your immediate attention." He quickly excused himself, apologizing for the delay, and disappeared down the hallway. The door swung open, and Sarah was free.

As we left the clinic, I felt a surge of adrenaline. I knew exactly what I wanted to do next. I directed her towards a discreet parking spot and then, without a word, pulled her into the driver's seat. The familiar scent of leather and vinyl filled the car, a comforting contrast to the sterile atmosphere of the clinic.

"Do you trust me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Of course, baby," I replied, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Now, let’s go shopping."

Our destination wasn’t a typical outlet mall. Instead, we drove to a small, unassuming medical supply store tucked away in a quiet neighborhood. As we stepped inside, I scanned the shelves, searching for something specific. "Mom," I said, turning to the elderly owner behind the counter, "we’d like to order a medical chair...with stirrups."

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered her composure. "Certainly," she replied, reaching for the phone. As she dialed, I couldn't help but smile. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on me. My wife, a woman who usually dreaded her checkups, was now craving the very thing that caused her such distress.

The medical chair arrived within an hour, a sleek, modern piece of equipment perfect for our twisted desires. Back in the car, I helped Sarah install the chair in the trunk, securing it with a sturdy strap. The anticipation returned, building with each passing moment.

As we pulled into a secluded spot overlooking the city, I knew it was time. With a mischievous grin, I reached for her hand and began to unbuckle her seatbelt. Her eyes met mine, filled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. As she leaned closer, I kissed her neck, savoring the taste of her arousal.

Then, without a word, I opened the trunk and retrieved the medical chair. With a swift movement, I positioned it in front of her, adjusting the stirrups to her liking. As she settled into the chair, her body tensed with anticipation. I took a deep breath, ready to fulfill her every desire. The world outside faded away, leaving only us, lost in a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure. The city lights twinkled in the distance, oblivious to the passionate encounter taking place within the confines of our stolen moments. This was what we both craved, a secret indulgence, a taboo pleasure that we would savor until the very end.

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