My First Time Claiming Her: The Doctor’s Forbidden Touch
In the exam room of my home clinic, Thursday morning light filtered through the blinds. Clémentine lay there, ass up, still bare from days of care. Her bruised cheeks had faded, but those chains and padlocks on her pussy—ten rings, five locks—mocked me. Years of her husband’s control. My heart hammered. I’d massaged her ass daily, balm sinking into soft flesh, my cock twitching each time. But this? Cutting them off? It felt like crossing a line. No turning back.
She asked why I insisted. ‘To turn the page,’ I said, voice steady but pulse racing. Her eyes pleaded. ‘If you cut them, does it mean you’re taking me?’ Fuck. My mouth went dry. She wanted me as her master. Me, the cerebral dom who’d lost his sub years ago. Hands shook grabbing the bolt cutters. Desire burned low in my gut. Fear too—what if Virginie walked in? What if I fucked this up? But her perfect ass, those locked lips… I couldn’t stop. ‘Lie back, legs spread,’ I ordered. She obeyed, thighs parting, exposing that sealed treasure. Heart thumping wild, I snipped. Metal pinged free. Her pussy glistened, free at last. First real look. Swollen lips, rings dangling. My breath hitched.
The Approach: Tension Builds
The instant hit like lightning. She sat up, pouting. ‘No touch?’ Cheeky sub. I checked her, fingers grazing slick folds. Everything healed. Then, impulse—my lips brushed her slit. Her smile lit the room. ‘See, you can.’ God, her scent. Musky, inviting. On the bed now, ass high. I palmed those globes, soft as sin. Kissed them everywhere. Cheek to cheek, tongue tracing curves. She giggled, squirming. My face nestled in one cheek—pillow from heaven. Hand stroked the other, slow circles. Cock strained. Legs wider. Fingers found her dripping cunt. Teased her clit, circling the nub. Thumb plunged in, slick with her juice. She moaned deep. Then, thumb to her ass—easy slide, lubed by her flow. Fingers worked clit harder. She bucked, cried out, came hard. I didn’t stop, milking every shudder. She sucked my fingers clean after, eyes locked. ‘Should’ve been you.’
Trace lingered like a brand. Exhausted, we talked. She craved submission, but right—trust, not abuse. I devoured her pear-shaped tits next, sucking nipples till she begged. Then missionary, my cock sliding home. Rings scraped deliciously. Pounded her raw, her legs locked me in. Came buckets inside, again on her tits, ass, deep in her hole. Bliss. Innocence shattered—not mine, but hers from that brute. She became mine: sub, lover, assistant. Heart still races recalling that first claim. No regrets. Just her perfect ass, forever mine.
