Bound and Initiated by Emily Tilton

doctor. She had no way to measure the passage of time, but it seemed to her that her wait exceeded by a long way every other wait for a doctor in an exam room she had had in her life. To remain on the table, held open, affected her strangely. Something in her mind seemed to be going through a kind of radical reorientation, so that she even began to wonder whether she, the trained CIA intelligence analyst, might really be the kind of girl who wrote romance novels about billionaires.
    She didn’t think she had written those computer-generated books: she wasn’t losing her mind. She did start to wonder, however, whether she could have written them. She thought of the absurd plot of Meeting Steven, the first of the two Forever Girl books: the small-town girl who came to photograph the billionaire and ended up stealing his heart. She thought of the first love scene, where Steve Billionaire pushed Sara Jane up against the wall and kissed her so hard that Sara Jane thought the earth shook under her feet .
    She thought about Pater Robert pushing her against a wall and kissing her. Kissing her, and a very great deal more: touching her pussy and murmuring approvingly. She thought about Kevin and Alex holding her between them so that she couldn’t get away as they explored every secret of her body. She thought about Claudia’s coffee table.
    There was a quick knock on the door, and it opened. A white-coated doctor of about fifty stood there, wearing a shirt and a tie under the white coat. He looked like any other avuncular doctor you might see in a hospital, making rounds.
    Then had come the installation of her IUD, and the humiliating introduction of the girl-trainer in response to her questions, along with the promise that she must now take the dildo in her mouth.
    When Sarah had considered oral sex under the heading of blowjobs, she had decided she probably didn’t want to do it, even if she loved the guy. The demeaning nature of the act, which Dr. Adams now reinforced so very emphatically, had struck her as basically unacceptable. When, in movies, a villainous guy had indicated—by a push on a girl’s head or even by a finger pointing to the floor—that a girl must suck his cock, Sarah had always told herself that what she felt in response merely showed the strength of her revulsion for such inequality.
    Dr. Adams put the head of the dildo to her lips. It felt cool and rubbery. It must feel nothing like a real cock, of course, right? But the symbolism, and the idea that there was in fact a strong resemblance between the plastic thing and the cock of the man who would, Sarah recalled with a shiver, apparently soon make her suck his real cock, seemed to make her pussy flow even as it made her heart quail.
    “Open your mouth, Sarah,” said Dr. Adams. “We must silence that unruly tongue of yours.”
    Unruly tongue: another ritual phrase? It certainly sounded strange coming from a doctor. As she hesitated, he rubbed the artificial cock’s head along her lips, then slapped it very gently against her cheeks, saying, “A man will often do this with his penis, if you keep your mouth closed. He enjoys seeing the way his penis looks up against your face. But if you keep refusing to give him his rights, he will soon become angry, and he’ll whip you, Sarah, until you do. I don’t think you want me to whip you, do you?”
    Sarah gave a little sob as she opened her mouth, and Dr. Adams thrust the dildo inside.
    “There,” he said with satisfaction. “Now try to relax your throat as I begin the thrusting. Note that the latex is firm, but not terribly hard. A man’s penis is similar, though not, of course, exactly the same. You must be careful to hold your teeth as widely apart as you can.”
    It was so thick, and its thrusting length so long. Sarah supposed she had imagined that a cock might feel like an overlarge mouthful of food, but it wasn’t like that at all. It felt, whether because the idea had lain latent in so many of