Missing my dystopian sci-fi western The Last Rancher? You need to meet Doctor Adam Weston. Here’s an early preview of Adam from the first time he punishes Isla, from The Last Doctor (book 2 in the series), which has just been sent to Stormy Night Publications for editing:
Alone with Isla, but aware that I was still being observed, I turned to look at my new charge. She crouched on the floor looking up at me with wide, terrified eyes. Her white skin contrasted wonderfully with her brilliant orange hair, and I momentarily thought about what her bottom would look like. Milky-white, I imagined. If her face was anything to go by, her rear would redden easily when I spanked it. Good. That would make this charade much easier to convey without having to hurt her too much. I would only have a short while before anyone discovered she wasn’t pregnant, but I couldn’t let myself think about that until later. Somehow, I would find a way to get her out of here, and hopefully rescue myself at the same time.
“Isla?” When I spoke her name, her eyes, against all possibility, widened even more. I knew better, but I still worried that if she tipped her head forward, her eyeballs might fall out.
“Y-y-y…” she managed. My heart wrenched. She was so terrified. Everything about her screamed prey. Even in a normal dating situation, I would have reservations. I liked the darkness. It beckoned to me. And her body called out like a beacon of innocence, just waiting to be corrupted with every naughty thing lurking in my imagination.
I had to be careful. It was going to be almost impossible to walk the line between savior and kidnapper, hero and molester, and—did she have to bite her bottom lip like that?—and I only wanted to unfasten that flimsy, poorly-fitting hospital gown and part her beautiful legs, then run the tip of my cock around the opening to her tight, perfect pussy, until I dragged her down with me into the depths of depravity, until she called my name, until she unreservedly begged me to take her.
Being the good guy… that was a new one on me. It was going to be hard to resist all the things I wanted to do to her, whilst still commanding her enough to make the Brotherhood think I had tamed her; the two roles were so close, they almost touched. I sighed and tried to think of something unsexy.
And she still stared at me, teeth clamped on lower lip, probably wondering why I just looked at her with a ridiculous crooked smile on my face. I did my best to snap out of it.
“I’m not going to eat you,” I told her. “Come on, I have to punish you for trying to escape. That was at the top of the list of all the stupidest things you could have done today.”
“Would tomorrow have been a better choice?” she asked timidly. It was obvious how scared she was of asking, but something had compelled her to say it anyway. I tried my hardest not to laugh, but that made it build up worse, until I made a face like I was trying not to spit out an ice cube.
Ice cubes. I wished I’d asked the guard to bring me some. Her breasts would look delectable with the freshly-thawed droplets of water beading on the surface of her white skin. I grabbed her shoulder more roughly than I’d intended, and frogmarched her back to my room. The whole way there, I ran through my meager furnishings and lack of possessions, trying to decide what to use for her punishment.
It seemed wrong to punish her on behalf of the Brotherhood or the cuntfaced guards that she wanted to escape from. I understood exactly why she’d tried. But at the same time, in doing so, she’d put her life in danger, and that was a reason to punish her that I could get behind. I wanted her to survive this fucked-up place and get out. I needed her to. So, she had to avoid putting her life in danger like that again.
I opened the door of my room and pushed her inside, ahead of me.
“I’m going to punish your bottom outside and in, to ensure you never put your life at risk like that again,” I told her. Her face was turned toward me, and I caught her horrified expression. I hated having to make her fear me. It wasn’t fair. She was too soft.
I knew that if I didn’t, the Brotherhood would kill us both, now I’d involved myself. The bastards were probably watching the cameras right now, eating their farmed meat and laughing at her fear. If only the BSE outbreak in Novara had killed them all across the continent.
Hardening my heart, I pulled a tube of medical-grade lubricant out of the pocket of my labcoat—or was it a doctor’s coat, if I practiced medicine, now?—and twirled the small cap. I squeezed the metal tube along one finger, as though the lube were toothpaste. How would she react if this was toothpaste? The idea of her squirming on my bed with mint freshening her back passage was delicious, but I pushed it away. Wrong side of the line. I couldn’t go there while we were both prisoners at a forced breeding facility. As her doctor, my goal with this punishment was to keep her alive, not to fuck her brains out.
Instead, I parted her cheeks and touched the tip of my finger to her rosebud. She froze, holding her breath and not blinking. When I glanced at her face, her eyes were glassy and unfocussed. I had to get her out of here. I pushed my finger into her, and noticed her soft gasp as my finger penetrated her silky rear. More than anything I had ever touched, I loved the sensation of a woman’s bottom clamped around me. It was hard not to exchange my finger for my cock. I tried to drag my mind out of the gutter, but she was so pliant, so fuckable, so pure white, that it was impossible not to think about all the things her body screamed for.
Need more? It’s coming in February, and has more medical play than you can shake a thermometer at.