“Good girl, Doctor. You’re my perfect slut.“ His praise has me preening, arching my back further, so my breasts remain in his sightline. His tongue slips out and wets his bottom lip, and I wish it were sliding across my lips instead, so I could taste him. The thought is so shocking that my fingers stop moving completely. I shouldn’t want any of this, this is wrong. Regardless of whether he’s a monster with answers, I’m still his doctor, and I’m crossing every professional, and ethical, line that exists.
