plot: something’s a little bit off about your doctor’s appointment… — themes: mildly dubious consent, f!reader, forced orgasms, sensual yapping — w.c: ~1.3k
kinktober masterlist • main masterlist • ao3
You were supposed to be getting a regular old check up, or at least that’s what you were expecting when you first walked into the doctor’s office.
However, something in the air didn’t feel quite right and then your vision soon blurred, quickly dimming your senses into sinking darkness. By the time you had finally come back around—something had changed—but what exactly?
Your eyes squinted at the harsh overhead lamps; blinding you into forced wakefulness and revealing a somewhat familiar silhouette looming over you, their features ever slightly so obscured.
“No way,” you scoffed in realisation, attempting to sit up in an attempt to strangle the guy and yet, finding that you weren’t able to do so at all due to being entirely strapped in, “what are you doing here?”
For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the buzzing ambience but their arrogant demeanour could never be hidden away for too long. Stepping forward, Kenjaku revealed themselves, flashing you a beaming grin. “That obvious was I? Worry not, I’ll be sure to find out what’s really wrong with you.”
You sulked in response as you helplessly writhed around, trying again and again to free yourself from the restraints. “It’s just a yearly check up—“
“—ah, ah, ah,” they half scoffed, eyeing you up and down. “You really thought that I would allow for you to be checked up by someone else in that sort of way? Think again. Just call me doctor, or nurse, or whatever helps make it easier~”
“Never mind that… what are you even wearing?” you jabbed, finally noticing their attire. It seemed to be an old fashioned nurse’s uniform, tightly fitted over their vessel’s broad shoulders.
Kenjaku simply leaned forward, the buttons of the straining shirt threatening to pop right off and potentially blind you. Their voice was laced with endearing mockery and the hum in their tone betraying no doubt that they enjoyed teasing you, “Oh this? Don’t worry about that. I just wanted to make the whole experience more fun and dare I say… realistic? You know, I actually used to work as a doctor a couple of centuries ago, so I am technically more than qualified to check you over. The times haven’t changed that dramatically, surely?”
“Well…” you trailed off, suddenly feeling uneasy.
Kenjaku rolled their eyes, waving off your concerns with the flick of their hand. “Don’t give me that look, it’ll be fine. Trust me, why don’t you? Besides, I’m not one to shy away from a good challenge in the name of research. Together, may we both find out what’s potentially troubling you.”
Once again feeling nervous, you couldn’t help but wonder what potential horrors awaited you. “Ch-challenge…? What are you planning now, you perverted fossil?”
Snorting at your remark, they rummaged through a duffel bag they had waiting by the door. They then pulled out a ball gag before securing it over your protesting mouth, clipping some of your hair into the buckled leather straps.
“Ah, don’t worry about it,” they teasingly murmured, “just a diagnosis of sorts, nothing too… invasive…”
The emphasis on the last word betrayed their attested promise, leading you to believe that they in fact were actually planning something dubious instead. You tried to tell them off some more, but your words could only come out as hopeless, muffled grunts. Such a display of desperately scolding protest only made them laugh even more, as though finding your helplessly fretting state to be amusing.
Quickly adopting a serious attitude however, they prodded and poked at your incapacitated body with clinical precision. With careful ease, they flicked and tweezed at your protruding nipples through the thin fabric of your top, causing your eyes to narrow in rising annoyance. Kenjaku paid you no mind however as they appeared to be deep in thought, scribbling away some nonsense onto an empty clipboard.
With a series of whirring hums and oohs and aahs, they swept their hands all around the your body, soon reaching just below your lower legs, testing just how responsive you were when teased at your somewhere a touch more sensitive.
“My professional diagnosis is…” they purred, trailing off his words into a grand announcement, “…that you, my dear, are stressed. The good news is that I’m selflessly going to help you release all of that tension, like a good doctor-nurse should.”
You sighed, steeling yourself for whatever that could possibly mean even though you had a good idea. “And the bad news?”
They shrugged. “That you don’t have a choice in the matter, but you knew that already, didn’t you?”
Rolling your eyes, you supposed that this was better than the time they tried to make you wear the shock collar, so perhaps this would go better.
Wasting no time, Kenjaku snaked their hand down to your heat, their warm fingers trailing around your tender skin. Despite your initial protest, your lips gasped out a rasping moan as the pleasure built. Their thumb pressed into your clit harder, producing soft whines from your quivering lips.
“Who’s the real pervert here, anyway?” they asked you, slipping two fingers into your slick hole, pumping them at a languid pace before curling them against the roof of your cunt, kneading just hard enough to push painfully against your pelvic bone.
“Y-you, clearly,” you gasped, writhing slightly under their pressuring touch. It wasn’t excruciating, but the discomfort wasn’t pleasant either.
They tilted their head slightly off to the side, momentarily letting the sharp light hit directly at your unprepared eyes. “You anticipated it though, that’s on you—not me,” they were quick to point out, sliding a free hand over to your thigh and squeezing it in their clamping grasp. The ache was dull, arousing a pleading cry to roll off your tongue.
They smiled as they watched you squirm under the inflicted soreness before angling themselves back to blocking out the light out again. “Admit that you like this for once, why don’t you?”
The longer the words hung in the air, the harder they squeezed, causing your body to recoil in flinching complaint. Your hands sprawled over the armrests as your fingers cinched hard over the plastic.
Finally, you admitted it, giving into what they wanted, “Fine, I—I like it.”
They sucked at their teeth, pressing harder. “So reluctant. Let’s try that again.”
“I like it,” you replied with more confidence that time.
“Better,” Kenjaku praised, easing the pressure off your body. They then resumed their pleasuring motions, running skilled circles over your now swollen clit. “You’ll come for me like a good pet, won't you?”
You nodded this time with a needy blushing expression; your hair draping over your face as the sweat dampened it. With a whimpering hum, your body squirmed around despite your incapacitated state in an attempt to urge him to continue.
“I will,” you promised.
With a pleased smile, Kenjaku continued to smooth rushed circles over the bud, watching with fascinated eyes as your body (involuntarily at this point) reacted to their pleasuring touch. Your legs shook violently against the confines, the friction rubbing raw against your exposed flesh. It didn’t take too long after your promise for the anticipated rising tension to build and bloom and finally settle after reaching your peak.
In rapid, ragged spurs, your body convulsed as they finally brought you into much sought after release, letting you recover for a moment before at long, long last unstrapping you.
Still flustered and hazy, you were momentarily surprised that they weren’t just leaving you there.
Kenjaku, noticing your confusion, simply just shrugged once more. “What? I’m not going to leave you here. Besides, I have further plans with you for when we get back,” they explained, helping you stand upright, “now, come along before they figure out that we’re up to no good in here…”
suguru kisses your temple as he places your coffee in front of you, softly laughing at your still half-asleep expression before taking his seat right across from you. messy strands of hair cascade down over his shoulders and he tucks a few stray ones behind his ear, so his view is as clear as day – suguru needs to be able to see the way your eyebrows furrow as you yawn or he'll die. he needs to be able to see that sliver of skin that peeks from under your shirt, his shirt, as you stretch and rub your eyes or he'll die. he needs to be able to see the way your eyes widen just a tad at the first taste of the coffee, of the affection suguru offers you through a simple drink. it's him, it's all him.
he's everywhere – he's on your tongue as you swallow, he's in your nose as you inhale. he's on your skin as you get dressed every morning, he's in your head when you wake up. your shoes are clean and you know it's him, your laundry is done and you know it's him. there's a cup of coffee waiting for you and you know it's him. a pair of soft hands, a brush of lips against the shell of your ear and it's always him. he's everywhere you look, guarding and protecting, loving, and all he needs in return is the little sweet 'aahh' that tumbles from your lips just as you meet his eyes across the table.
you see the grin tugging on his lips before he hides it behind his own mug, the very same one you gifted him last christmas. his hands cup the ceramic with utmost care; he likes the warmth of it – of the coffee and of the adoration stored inside it.
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