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Agents of SHIELD: Just What The Doctor Orders
🕑 Added 2017-06-01 22:08:14 +0000 UTCJemma Simmons was in love with three men.
There was the Leopold Fitz she was used to. The one she had known at the Academy, the one she had watched come out of his shell and overcome adversity and leave behind doubts… and now he was, very simply, her hero. Boyfriend or lover seemed poor substitutes for that word, that private word. He was her knight in shining armor.
Then there was the other Fitz. The Doctor. The man Fitz had been in the Construct, twisted and corrupted from a Monkey’s Paw wish and AIDA’s own malformed desires, making him into some dark reflection. A machine designed to serve her. A monster.
Finally, there was the Fitz she had now. He had the regrets of the old Leopold, the memories of the Doctor, and something broken that was all his own. He couldn’t switch off being the Doctor, shrug it off like it was some role he had played. It was in him, down to the bone. Sewn into his shadow.
He tried to play it off, now that he realized how much it bothered her—having that creature living in her beloved’s body too. He held it down well; a master of suppression. It was only during sex that she really noticed.
Fitz was, if anything, only a more giving and attentive lover since the Construct. He was totally devoted to her, going down on her for seemed like hours, spending so much time on foreplay that she practically had to grope him into penetrating her… it was some of the best sex of Jemma’s life, truly.
But he wasn’t enjoying it. Bringing her to orgasm pleased him because she was happy, but it didn’t do anything for him sexually. And she didn’t want to just be some slave master… that was far too close to what AIDA had been.
She tried to draw him out, ask him what he wanted, but it only made him draw into himself tighter. He stopped flirting with her, initiating sex at all, and though Jemma gave him his space, nothing changed.
The thought struck her that it was AIDA—Madame Hydra—Ophelia that he wanted. But she refused to believe that that thing could’ve so totally replaced her in Fitz’s affections.
Still, the thought struck her. Over and over again. Until she had to ask Fitz if that was it. If that was what he wanted.
“You’re who I want,” he said, as fixedly and stubbornly as a prayer.
“And you have me! So why don’t you want to touch me? What do you want to do to me, there has to be something—”
“It’s not what I want,” he said. “It’s what the Doctor wants.”
Split personalities. Doppelgangers. Clones. They were limited, two-dimensional ways of approaching the problem and she had to get past them. Fitz was reality. The Doctor was a trauma that had happened to him. And now, her Fitz was recovering from that trauma. Of course it had changed him. Of course he wasn’t like before.
“Anything he wants,” Jemma said, over and over, until he listened. “Anything you want.”
He couldn’t even tell her. He had to write it down. And Jemma had to read it, what he had done with Ophelia, how he had touched her, what the ultimate slave had enjoyed once she was the master.
And of course she could do that. For Fitz. For him to know he wasn’t a freak and she still loved him.
***
Fitz sighed as he pressed his intercom button. "Jemma, could you please come to my office?”
Fitz’s office was in back of the main laboratory ‘bullpen,’ set off by a door and windows with the blinds down. This would not draw suspicion. Even on a slow day, the SHIELD scientists would be so busy in their work that a nuclear bomb would go off and all they would do was ask that a window be opened.
Fitz took his finger off the button to find Jemma already through his office door. “You rang, Doctor?”
Her voice was small. She sounded frightened.
There were days when Fitz was Fitz-ish and days when he was Doctor-ish. He was never one or the other, wholly, but there was a difference between running a comb through his hair and patting it down with gel until it was a paragon of crisp, clear control. When he shaved with a straight razor to leave his jaw a featureless plain. When he took his coffee black and wore a shirt and tie instead of something more casual.
And usually, Jemma called him Fitz. When they were on the job or just being a normal couple. It was only when she knew he needed it, when she was willing to play, that she addressed him as ‘Doctor.’
“Do you see that, there?” Fitz asked, pointing to a spray of broken glass on the floor.
“Yes, Doctor,” Jemma said.
“Did you break a glass in here?”
Of course, she hadn’t, but there were subtle cues when Fitz wanted her to protest her innocence and when he wanted her to play along. She had become good at reading them—good at teasing out the purest expression of his lust.
“Yes,” Jemma said. “It was an accident. I’m very sorry.”
“You didn’t clean it up.”
“No, I was going to, but—“
“Nor did you inform anyone of the ‘accident,’ I take it.”
“No, I thought—”
“Do you really think you were paid to think,” Fitz asked, “looking the way you do?” He stood and came around the desk and stared at her for a moment. “So, you have damaged SHIELD property. You let it become a danger to others by not dealing with it. And, since I had to confront you about your misbehavior, I can only assume you tried to pass the buck but were too weak-willed and incompetent to effectively cover yourself. Am I right in all of these statements?”
Jemma’s voice lowered as if trying to match his calm, cool monotone. “Yes, Doctor.”
Her hushed breath was coming low and hot. She could tell he had something for her. That her acceptance of him and his proclivities had peeled away more and more of his shame, and now he was going to take things to the next level.
Maybe she shouldn’t enjoy that. What Fitz did to her when he wasn’t quite Fitz. But he wouldn’t be able to do it if she didn’t like it, so it almost balanced out.
Somehow.
“Do you know I detest the pantyhose you wear? Pretending that your skin is so soft and smooth, when we both know it isn’t. It’s flawed, Jemma. When you put those things on, you lie to me.” Then he said, "Well, why aren't you taking off your pantyhose? Do I have to tell you everything?"
"Yes, Doctor," she said meekly, but she was already bending forward to slip her fingers under the elastic band and work the filmy stockings over the bulge of her ass. She knew better than to try sitting down when she did this. He enjoyed seeing her move and turn.
He yanked the pantyhose from her fingers the instant she had gotten them off her feet. Without a word, he took a handful of her dark hair and brutally pulled her head back. "You'll have to be taught to obey me faster."
"Please, Doctor, don't punish me. I'll do better in the future. I promise that I will!" Her voice trembled slightly in anticipation of what he would do to her. All her pleas meant nothing if he truly wanted to discipline her.
"I'll do any damned thing I want to you," he said, his voice always calmer and cooler than before.
Looking at Jemma's dilated eyes, he quickly wrapped her pantyhose around her hands, tying them together. He released his grip on her hair and she fell to her knees, gasping. Tears were in her eyes, but she always cried when the sex was good. She didn’t know why.
"Please! I'll do anything you want. Anything at all!"
"Of course you will. You'll do it because I order you to."
She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with desire. She licked her lips and panted, "How can I please you, Doctor?"
"Suck my prick until it's hard."
She fumbled with his zipper. Her tied hands made it difficult for her to run it down the metallic track, but she succeeded. She had to. The Doctor had commanded her.
The cock snapped out of his pants, already erect. She hastily took it into her mouth and began giving the best head she could. With her breath coming in short, quick gasps, Jemma was hardly able to restrain her rampaging emotions.
Fitz sighed at the wet feel of her soft, ruby lips all over the thick head of his prick. She was giving him a good blowjob. She always did. But she had to be persuaded to do it right. She simply didn't drop down and suck cock whenever he wanted. The only way she seemed to get hot was when he bossed her around, tied her up, and told her off.
It was like she had to be punished for enjoying this.
The words he used were designed to make her even hotter. "You stupid slut. You call that sucking? I want you to give me head. Really suck on my cock. None of this half-assed stuff you're doing now."
She sucked, harder now, with more insistence. Fitz found the sensations ripping away at his control. His balls tightened. His jism demanded release. He held it back. It wouldn't do to come in the woman's sucking, hot mouth. Not yet. First, he wanted to convince her he was the Doctor and she was only a willing slave to his desires.
He took a step back. His prick slipped from between her soft lips and she almost fell on her face. She had to support herself with her stocking-bound hands. Jemma looked up, questions in her eyes.
"Not good enough," he told her in a level voice. He marveled at how well he did it. Inside, he was churning and dancing with lust. But he didn't want to show it. Not until he was ready to come.
"Wh-what do you want me to do?"
"Suck it harder,” Fitz explained as if to an imbecile. “If I have to show you everything, I'll be forced to whip your naked ass. Do you want that?"
She did. But she obediently inched forward and took his balls in her cupped hands. She kissed and brushed her lips over his balls. When she fluttered her eyelashes against his cock, he almost came. Something about how soft it was made it all the more powerful.
Then she moved back down the shaft of his cock. She licked and lightly nipped at his flesh, arousing his cock to the point where he would explode if she continued.
"How disappointing," he announced, his voice dripping with scorn. "I thought a slut like you could give better head than that. Any virgin could suck cock better."
"Please, Doctor," she pleaded, "give me another chance!" Her tied hands and sad look really turned him on. If he didn't get into her cunt and start fucking her soon, he was going to come, spurting into her hair and face.
For a second, he considered doing just that. She’d look so good, marked that way, tamed that way. Then his desires got the better of him. Just having his cum on her face wouldn’t teach her anything. He had to really show Jemma that she was his.
"On your feet," he snapped, his voice brooking no disobedience. She hastened to do his bidding. As soon as she was up, he shoved her forward. She was barely able to catch herself as she fell. Her hands landed with a resounding smack on his oak desk, her feet were placed well behind her body. Her stomach muscles strained to keep her from collapsing on the floor.
"Stay like that," he said. He looked at his bound woman and smiled. She presented such a beautiful figure, tied up as she was. He felt his prick stir with new lust for her.
"Please, Doctor, my arms are shaking. Can't I move my feet in closer to the desk?"
"No." He moved behind her and hiked up her tight skirt until it was rolled around her waist. She wore thong panties. He hated to do this to such a sexy thing, but his need was too great to wait for her to pull them down. He moved between her well-spread legs and aimed his prick directly for the hidden cunt.
His prick smashed into her soft, sexy panties. He felt the wetness that had already oozed from her pussy. She was wet and ready for him to fuck her. He drove his prick upward again, struggling against the thin fabric that kept him from driving all the way up into her cunt. He wanted his prick fucking hard into that cunt. Nothing less would do.
Jemma groaned every time he battered against her panties. She felt the strain in her belly muscles from her unnatural position. But she wouldn't have moved even if her life depended on it. What he was doing to her pussy was too delightful.
Even if she wanted to stop him, she couldn't have done so. With her hands bound and in her awkward position, she was totally helpless. Moreover, she felt a surge of desire blasting through her body with every thrust of his prick.
Her panties prevented his cock from entering her pussy. But the way her clit struggled to rise made her pleasures soar. The material of the lacy panties stretched tightly over her cunt, rubbing against it, stimulating it. Every fucking stroke sent new tremors of desire through her body. She heard the soaked material begin to rip. She didn't care in the least.
All she wanted was more of him.
As her panties gave way and the blunt head of his prick touched her blood-engorged lips, she came. Jemma's clit got a full dose of the rubbing, driving stimulation as her cunt tightened.
She moaned and shook. Her arms and legs went weak. She started to sink to the floor, but she found a hard, rigid shaft inside her, supporting her, making her stay in place.
"Yes," he groaned. "You feel so good!" Then, as if realizing this were not the role he should be playing, he added, "Loose. Does every guy in here stick his cock inside you?"
"N-no, Doctor," Jemma stuttered. The effects of his hot prick inside her cunt was beginning to make her tremble again. Again she wanted to feel the friction of his cockhead against her innermost folds. She wanted—needed him to fuck her.
"You lie. I'll have to punish you for lying to me!" He ran his hands between their bodies. His fingers gripped harshly at the smooth curves of her ass-cheeks. She groaned and drove her ass backwards under the pressure, trying to get more of her flesh into his hands. The way her skin tightened around her clit and cunt made his prick feel gigantic.
"Fuck me, fuck me haaaaaard!"
He grunted. He felt her cunt begin to tense up around his cock. The woman's walls became tighter and tighter. All along the length of his swollen cock, he felt rippling sensations. As he pulled his prick out, a sucking noise filled the room.
Jemma heard the sound. The noise turned her on, but the exit of his prick made her hornier than ever. She wanted him back inside her hot pussy.
She felt his hands brutally twisting her buttocks. He seemed to be trying to rip the fleshy mounds from her body. She went crazy with lust as he tightened the skin around her clit by pulling on her firmly-fleshed ass.
She came again.
His prick waited to enter her deep cunt. The froth of juices boiling from within her convinced him to drive his cock back into her cunt. He drove back in with a hard stroke that rattled Jemma’s teeth. He ground his prick into her pussy, feeling his long, hard cock push deep inside her hot, juicy cunt. When he could hardly keep his cum back, he pulled out with a quick stroke.
Her passionate climax ripped all of her sensations apart and put them back together in a crazy-quilt of desire. She hardly knew what was happening. She pulled hard at the stockings holding her wrists together. They didn't give. This increased her joy tenfold. She fought as hard as she could but still he controlled her.
Fitz began to drive into her again, his cock stretching her tight walls to the breaking point. Deep inside, he rotated his prick around, then drove into her with great speed. The pace picked up and soon he was giving it to her full bore.
Jemma felt the friction of his prick along her cunt. The feel of his body so close to her ass added to her arousal. His hands pulling hard at her flesh made her weak, but filled with desire. When he reached around her body and began lightly stroking across the tip of her erect clit, she blew apart in a fantastic climax.
Fitz grunted as he felt the velvety walls crush down along his cock. Convulsed with her orgasm, he found it required all his strength to pull back out.
"Never felt a cunt so Goddamned tight," he moaned. He moved his hands restlessly all over her buttocks. His fingers sought out her clit and teased it until it pulsed and throbbed mightily against the tips of his fingers. Then he drove his prick back into the seething depths of her cunt.
His prick moved way up into her pussy. His balls banged against her labia. For the first time, Fitz wished her hands were free. Then she would be able to reach back between her legs and fondle his balls. But he knew it wasn't possible to release her now. The fucking had started with her as his bound slave and that was the way it would have to end.
He felt his balls twitch as another climax tightened her pussy. He let go of her slippery little clit and moved his hands until they were under Jemma’s body. He picked her up bodily so that her feet left the floor and her legs were firmly caught under his arms. Her only other support was her bound hands pressed into the top of his desk.
He began fucking her from this position. He felt the heat and tension all along his throbbing cock. He fucked faster, letting her body dip and then pulling it back toward his crotch.
She came. Once... twice... three times in succession. One come had barely died when another smashed through her body. She cried and moaned and begged him to stop. He fucked her even harder.
"Oh, no, please, no mooooore! My body's worn out! You can't fuck me anymore! Please!"
He paid no attention to her pleading. It didn't matter to him one way or the other. She'd already gotten off more times than he could count. His own desires mattered the most now. He drove his engorged prick in and out of her cunt at a fantastic pace.
He felt her cunt squeeze down hard on his cock again and that was it. He couldn't hold back the fiery, passionate tide of his jism any longer. His seed exploded into her cunt. He whitewashed the walls of her clenching pussy until they were both struggling in the throes of orgasm.
He continued fucking her—longer than ever before. The sight of her arching back, her widespread cunt, the legs trapped under his arms, the pantyhose-tied wrists, her heavy tits under her body all got to him and kept his prick stiff for several more minutes. Then his cock simply quit. It slipped from her pussy amid a flow of her juice and his come.
Fitz dropped her so that her feet were firmly planted on the rug again. Then he took a tissue from a box on a shelf and wiped off the cum dribbling down the front of his pants. Jemma turned around and saw what he was doing.
She fell to her knees again and took his prick in her hands and started licking. She licked all over his prick and balls until the last traces of his cum were gone.
Then she stood up. He silently undid her hands and tossed the pantyhose into the trash.
Jemma started to protest. "But—"
He cut her off. "Just put your skirt down. No, wait." He grabbed the elastic band of her panties and jerked hard. The first motion didn't rip them from her hips. The second did. He tossed the frilly, delicate panties into the trash along with her pantyhose. "Now put your skirt down," he commanded.
She obeyed.
"I want you to go out and get back to work. I don't want you to let anyone else see that you don't have any panties on. And I don't want you wiping off the insides of your thighs. I'll examine them later in the day. If my cum isn't there, I'll severely punish you. Now get out of my sight. You’re distracting me."
She left.
He did check her later that day. He dropped into the knee-well of her desk and buried his head under her skirt while she sat and tried to carry on her regular business. She came for him.
She always did.
