Dark Corners

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

I’ve spent the last three years as an Executive Assistant to a head emergency room physician,

Dr. David Read, at Grace Hospital near downtown Toronto. The job came easily, with a headhunter agency tracking me down online. I had a degree in Business Administration, and some experience on my resume as an Admin Assistant, which must have been impressive enough to direct them my way. I’d always had an interest in being connected to the medical field, so I leapt at the opportunity. The commitment of the research and support I could offer in this post kept my interest piqued. I loved it.

I sat in my own area just outside of Dr. Reads’ rich, warm-toned office. From the day I started

I felt right at ease that he would respect me and give me reign to grow into the job and all the benefits and challenges it could offer me. I became deeply embedded with the hospital staff, enjoying a behind-the-scenes perspective of a thriving medical environment. Fortunately for my preference, I was infrequently exposed to the gruesome flow that beset the emergency room.

My specialties lay within our cozy offices, with people on paper and screens.

Not long after I started, I came in to find coffee at my desk, compliments of Dr. Read (David).

The frequency of his little treat gifts grew with our comfort. He started sharing details about his life, things like concerts or shows he would attend, and soon I found myself sharing some personal, even dating anecdotes of my own. He was divorced, no kids, and was just starting to date a bit himself.

The more I got to know him the more it felt that we had in common. It didn’t hurt that his looks checked each box on my attraction list. David had a strong, tight and muscular body at just under six feet, so I felt quite comfortable next to him, at my five-foot-six. He kept the sides and back of his hair shorter, but let these terribly sexy black waves grow slightly longer on top.

He had green eyes, that if I really looked into, had a way of making me want to confess dirty secrets. I had admitted to my friends of the daydreaming I had spent of the lovely dark-haired

Doctor and I playing house more and more often.

One morning about a year in, I was in his office alone with my back to the door stacking files across his desk. Immersed in the task, I came to realise I was not alone. I kept at the job, as a whisper curved against my ear, “Ramona, are you doing a good job?” Holy Hell! I crushed myself against the desk trying to reel in the sudden flame between my thighs.

“I - I hope I am doing well for you Dr. Read”, I stammered, glancing slightly back towards his bold profile. I was just barely bent over the desk, and then I felt the trace of a hand on my lower back just above my behind.

“I’d like you to show me how you can do better.”

What did he want me to do? I was so confused, was this what I thought it was? I hoped so, because I was unbearably turned on. But what if it wasn’t, was he just being silly, weird? I took a gamble.

With just a short hesitation, I turned slightly to the left and bent right down to the floor to my other stack of folders, leaning myself firmly into the curve that was Dr. Read behind me. I slowly rose with the stack to place on the desk. I stopped in a forward bent position with my forearms laying on the desk. I wasn’t sure how I’d find my voice in the breathlessness I felt, with barely a whisper I managed, “How was that, sir?”

Still in his delicious fold, back against my ear, “Ramona, very pleasing.” His hand which had remained on my back pressed quite firmly then and slowly slid down cupping my behind. “Very pleasing.” He repeated in my ear. After one more breathless moment he released me, walked around to his desk chair, took a seat, picked up his phone and started to make a call. I looked at him, not looking at me. I was a big girl, I could play this. I made my way out and down the hall to the Ladies Room, with a deep need to tame the flames behind my seams.

Breathless in my stall, turning each moment of the desk over and over. Handling myself expertly in respect of this momentous development with David. Oh my God, feeling fragments of me tearing away, exposing a delicious dark need verging on… violence? My images turn to blades, switches, knives feathering down my form. David, holding me down, I’m barely able to draw breath, outlining my breast with a knife’s edge, just on the brink of drawing blood. My true dark fantasies had surfaced. A little danger play seemed to lay just on my minds’ edge. He wanted to play games. I too had games in mind.

This feeling was worlds away from anything I had ever felt with James. He’d never even considered any sort of dominant role play with me and I never thought he was the type to bring it up with. It wasn’t for everyone. With my first slightly s****l demand from a potentially domineering Dr. David, the wheels in my mind were spinning.

I absolutely loved how it made me feel, right down to my toes, someone telling me what to do, someone taking charge. I would think about how far I would go to please someone, and myself with these types of games. How tolerant was I to someone else’s demands or preferences over my own.

I certainly wasn’t going to initiate anything further with David myself, but if he were to by chance, I would definitely see where it led. For the time being, I would continue to play up in my head the fantasies that continued from our little desk play.

***

Winter 2016

Time weaved its way along. Work was busy in the winter season. Nothing was different between David and me. We acted like nothing had happened between us. The more time that passed since our encounter the more unreal it seemed, which was fine by me, as I loved my job and physical pursuits could always be found elsewhere.

Work was fascinating. By current stats, it seemed that random acts of violence were a growing trend in our area of town. The emergency room was seeing more stabbings and assaults lately. The cops that we consulted with alluded to suspicions that maybe a single culprit could be responsible.

My good friend Jace was one such detective. We had met a year earlier through my involvement with the hospital in providing info to police on victims of crime in the area. We were about the same age, had both grown up in the Toronto area, were career driven, but still liked to party on occasion. Jace and I discussed recent events one wine-filled evening at my place. “Do you really think someone is just out there randomly attacking people?” I asked her.

Flipping her long jet-black hair over the back of the couch. “It’s really not terribly unusual” she exclaimed, “It doesn’t take as much as you’d think for a person to just go after someone.”

“Hmm,” I murmured, “I just, well, I can imagine wanting to maybe hurt someone in like the heat of the moment, someone I know, am emotional about. But just not seeing a total stranger and thinking, ya, that’s them, I’m gonna f**k them up right now!”

Jace laughed at me, “Oh, so you are totally fine being violent with a loved one, but hands off to strangers hey.” She laughed again, rolling her eyes. “You’re so weird Ramona, I love it!”

“I know, I know” I said, figuring maybe I should steer us away from this topic while the tone was still light and humorous. The thought lingered though; it made sense to me that the intensity of the intimacy between people would erupt, should you bring the immeasurable trust required for a little vehement role play. For now though, it was time to go dancing, we agreed and headed out.

About three blocks from my house is a nightclub called ‘Celler’ which we have frequented a fair bit, enough to know the bartenders’ and doormen’s names so you could say we were regulars. A usual mix of our favorite 90’s electronica blasted across the dance floor, Depeche

Mode, The Cure and Jane’s Addiction to name a few old favorites. Jace and I let loose.

We chilled with a couple other girls, many drinks around the table. We were up and down the dance floor as the songs hit or missed. There didn’t seem to be any eye-catching male specimens that night, so us girls were just being silly and a little flirty with each other, and perhaps with a bartender that I’d been more than friendly with on a couple occasions. The lights eventually came up, signalling closure, so we gathered up and made our way out.

Once the fresh air hit, my head swooned with the reality I may have had a bit more liquor than I thought. Jace wrapped her arms around me, “I love you Raamona,” she drawled, “I love your blue, blue eyes, I love your long, dark, hair. You’re sooo beautiful.” She was always going on about my big eyes and small frame. I’d always been shy and modest, and never took compliments well.

I swooned, “I love you Jaacee, you’re sooo beautiful too.”

That is where we always parted, as our directions differed. Without even a thought, I leaned in and kissed her with deep, intimate, alcohol passion. She continued the embrace a moment longer, then we parted, giggling, “You’re so fantabulous,” she drunkenly roared as we stumbled on our own paths.

Right between the club and my house is Grace Hospital where I work. I’m walking home, sobered just slightly in the breeze of this particularly warm March evening. As I passed a door on the side of the hospital, I clearly heard my name called out. “Ramona, aren’t you out past your bedtime?” Looking over I saw that Dr. Read was shadowed in the doorway taking a pull off a cigarette.

“David, I didn’t see you there,” I said too loudly whilst twisting to face him, haphazardly stepping back and toward the building crookedly, tripping over my feet and crashing down against the wall right next to where he leaned.

“Have you enjoyed some cocktails this evening?” he chuckled, tossed his smoke and offered a long strong arm down to me. I placed my hand in his and he enveloped mine, grasping just on the brink of being too tight, an instant shock ran down my body as he firmly pulled upwards. I had no balance, so I used my free hand against his body as leverage to slide against as I slowly rose up, my eyes locked up on him as I looked up through my bangs. I passed his knees, his waist, his chest, stopping at his chin. I glanced up over his face, his stubble, just at that perfect length, his wavy hair disheveled, as he tended to run his hands through on stressful shifts (which I know he’d just finished). His eyes were a darker shade of green and unfamiliar that night. They locked with mine, he raised a brow. I was instantly aching inside, the alcohol was reigniting, and I smiled approvingly.

David took the hand he raised me by, lifting mine still held in his, stretching it up above my head into the brick wall I was pressed against. He placed his other hand on my waist, pressing me firmly into the wall. He nuzzled into my bare neck, lifting his lips up just to my lobe,

“Ramona,” came out husky and feathered, setting me on fire.

“Yes David.” I responded with unmistaken consent.

His tongue was on me, licking down my neck, then up to my earlobe. His lips moved across my jawline, desperately up to my lips where ours lunged out to meet at last. As we devoured each other, he couldn’t help but push me harder and harder into the wall. Each time he released just a bit, then slammed me back against as my tongue lashed against his own. “Oh God!” I gasped reaching for air, his mouth was immediately down on my clothed breast. He released me and then stepped back.

“Holy Hell Ramona” he exclaimed, running both hands through his hair now. My flush was gratefully subsiding as I let out a deep sigh. “What I could do to you,” he spoke to the ground.

“What would you do to me?” I asked, with my fingers playing against my lips.

“Are you serious?” I nodded. David gently took my hand, stepped toward the door, opened it and pulled me behind him. We walked in silence within the stairway, two flights up to our offices. He looked back at me a couple times as if to check that I was in fact still there. I trailed my fingers across my desk as we passed, knowing how different this would all look on my way out.

I closed his door behind me. He walked to his desk and took a seat, only the street light glow through the windows illuminated the room. I started to follow his path.

“No No No.” He scolded, I think. “I would like you down crawling on your knees.”

I took a moment to process his words. Remembering how our last encounter ended, which seemed so long ago, he was a game player. This could be shaping up to be a new game. One I could indeed be into. Enjoying the order, I lowered myself down to the floor, palms down in the plush Berber folds. One knee forward then the other, inching my way across to him.

My low neckline and high tight skirt had me feeling quite exposed by the time I reached his desk. The black lace top and skirt looked great in the club on the dancefloor, but here crawling on my hands and knees, I was leaving very little to the imagination.

“Turn and face the door now.” He undeniably ordered me. I obeyed, just hoping my skirt was still covering me in back. He stood behind me, then with his foot between my knees he sharply kicked them apart as far as my skirt would allow. This sent shock waves to my groin and a gasp to express it.

I hear the snap before I felt it, “Ahh!” A crack came down again with sharpness on my behind, yelping out again, I looked back then to see him holding a twelve-inch plastic ruler in his palm.

“Eyes forward.” Another order. He had a confident way about making them. The thing of it was that I felt quite natural following them. Next thing I knew he threw the ruler across the room. I waited, not sure what to do.

“How about you go get that for me?”

I looked back at him. “Seriously?” This seemed like a bit much.

He crouched down face to face, stuck his hand in my shirt and over my bra pinched my n****e hard. “Do I seem like I’m joking?”

I winced at the pain, shocked at the roughness of it. I’d never seen this expression on his face before, I was absolutely terrified and categorically turned on. “No, you don’t.”

Into my eyes, “now that you understand, how about you pull your skirt up over that lovely ass of yours and crawl over there and get my ruler.” Then he stood back up, turned and took a seat back at his desk. This was a very new experience for me and I seemed to be getting catapulted into it. I’m sure the remnants of alcohol helped, but I felt pretty sure of myself and I decided then and there to give myself permission to give in to it. Mostly I knew I would just worry about my job security, but if things did get out of hand, there were other offices, other Davids. So looking towards a future of dark dirty deeds with Dr. David, I hiked that skirt up over my lovely ass as I was told.

I started crawling across the room, feeling his eyes intently on me, and the sliver of lace g- string I wore that evening.

“Slow down Ramona, and sway your hips more.”

I swallowed a small lump forming in my throat, feeling slightly emotional at these odd instructions being ordered at me. I did as he asked and heard a pleasing sigh from his direction, somehow that sound empowered me. I reached the ruler, then looked questionably back over my shoulder at him.

“With your mouth.”

I did so and then turned around and started back to my doctor. When I reached David, he took the ruler and pulled me up to stand.

“Now strip.” He ordered.

An intense vibration seized me between my thighs and I was instantly wet as I responded to his command, he was in charge. I started at the buttons of my tight lace blouse and let it fall to the floor. I inched down my tight skirt, making a forward bend in an effort to pull it off.

“Just as you are, remove my pants now Ramona.”

I put my hands on his belt. “No hands.” Oh God, this was intense. My teeth went to his belt, which I managed, then with more effort I released his pants which he stepped out of. His erection in his briefs stirred an even deeper desire in me to take all the steps he might create to have him.

“Now take my shirt off, make me want you.”

Though it seemed pretty obvious that he did, he was clearly teaching me something here.

Holding his stare, I undid his buttons. In my black bra and g-string, I seductively rolled myself from his chest around to his back. He moaned pleasurably at my action. I reached up and lightly dragged all of my fingertips down the back of his head, pressing them harder against the bare skin of his neck, then I firmly grabbed his shirt collar.

With my nails scratching down his back, I peeled the shirt gracefully down right to the floor where I landed on my hands and knees looking up to him with my lips parted, and my cheeks flush with hot desire. He turned to face me, saw my expression with need stamped all over it and fell to the floor himself.

David kneeled behind me, with his hands firmly on my hips, grinding his hardness into my behind. A beam of heat flashed through my body and I gasped involuntarily.

“You’re on fire aren’t you?” he praised me, and then put a hand in my hair, and sharply pulled me up high on my knees solidly against his body. I couldn’t even answer before each of his hands came around and clenched my n*****s between his fingers, twisting sharply, and then letting go. My arms instinctively sprung up and wrapped around behind his head pulling at handfuls of his hair. He released one breast but forced that hand inside my panties and dug his fingers into me. I screamed as I squeezed his hand between my thighs.

“Oh David, Oh God, take me, I need you.” I writhed like a wild woman against his now thrusting fingers. He released me, yanked my underwear down and cruelly pushed me back down onto my hands.

“Are you on the pill?” He asked as he removed his briefs. My head nod answered. “I’m safe

Ramona, are you safe?” I nodded yes again.

With no warning he thrust his full shaft straight into me as he pulled my hair back to him. My world absolutely exploded with the pleasure and pain combed ecstatically. He drove into me growing with each movement, before long I found myself rocking back into him, pushing myself onto his length. His intense reactions to how I matched him this way drove me crazy.

He pulled out suddenly and stood up, then went to his desk. He told me to lay on my back in a certain place near his desk, then he came back to me, grabbed my arm and started tying a thin piece of rope to my wrist.

“What are you doing David?” I asked with some concern.

“I’m tying you down Ramona.” Then he affixed the other end to his desk leg. He didn’t ask me, or pause for approval. I would have given consent if he had, but I wouldn’t stop it anyways.

He repeated with my other wrist and the other desk leg. Then more concerningly, he took some material and tied it around my eyes.

“You should really ask if I’m OK with this.”

He lay down on top of me, licked my lips and plunged his tongue into my mouth, instantly reigniting every delicious sense. He cupped me in his hand, squeezing me hard, then pressed a finger so tight against my swollen parts. “Are you OK with this?”

I arched into his hand completely surrendering, dying to feel his hardness inside me again.

With a raspy consent, I let him claim me for the rest of the night, in every which way he wanted, as the pleasures were dark and intense, and mine.