Doctor Blumfield's Breeding Slave (Medical BDSM & Breeding Erotica)

When Alexandra Rogers makes an appointment with Dr. Evan Blumfield, she hopes that he can figure out why her sex life has hit a patch of the hum-drums. After a quick exam, Dr. Blumfield realizes there's nothing wrong with Alex, but finds something inside her that he realizes he can't live without.


Will she refuse his offer of servitude in exchange for a life of intense, scorching release from all her worries? Or will she give in and become Dr. Blumfield's first breeding slave?


Warning: This 9300+ word steamy erotic tale features sizzling bondage and restraint, medical BDSM play, a beautiful and dominant doctor, adultery, self-discovery, a creampie and impregnation. The doctor is in!


Excerpt:


“So, what seems to be the trouble?” He sat and rolled back and forth on his little stool. “Here, please relax while you explain what brings you in today. Remember, I’m your doctor. Try not to be embarrassed about whatever it is that’s troubling you.”


He gave me a hand to balance on as I climbed up and sat on the table. Butcher paper crinkled.
“Well, it’s a little embarrassing I guess,” I began, “but basically my husband and I – well, our sex life has dried up. I think there must be something wrong with me.”


“I see,” he replied, “how did you come to this conclusion?” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and penetrated me with his deep stare. I noticed his high, gorgeous cheekbones then for the first time. I noticed just how powerful he looked. His eyes tracked up and down my body before coming back to the level with mine. The doctor did not, at all, hide what he was doing. His brazenness caught me a little by surprise.


“It just is. It has to be. Nothing’s wrong with Walter.”


“Mhm.” He rolled closer on the stool. “Lie back, please, I’ll see if I can find anything suspicious. Disrobe, please. Would you like me to leave the room?”


That’s strange, never had him ask me before. Usually he just leaves. “Well, no, I suppose not,” I laughed nervously, “nothing you haven’t seen before.”


Dr. Blumfield’s lips smiled. His eyes did not.
“Often, in cases like this, we find that the husband – or the male partner, whatever the case – is actually inadequate. He often convinces the female she is at fault as a way to hide those feelings. But, I’m not a psychotherapist, so I shouldn’t continue. Something to keep in mind, anyway.”


By the time he had finished, I had undressed and resumed my seat.


“Good. Feet in the stirrups, please. Oh, I forgot – would you like a gown?”


I have to admit that, even though his bedside manner was rather careless, his disaffection with the whole proceeding had me more than a little bit excited. I hoped that he didn’t notice my nipples. Or how wet I was beginning to get.