Mr. Porn Writer

My Name is Dr. Dark – Chapter 1

Warning - Don't read it if you shouldn't. This is erotic fiction containing graphical sexual content as outlined in the coding above.

My name is Dr. Richard Dark. Doctor of medicine, healer of the sick, and distinguished member of this community. I am fairly successful in my profession without attracting too much attention from my peers. Being a partner in a medical practice and a consultant at the local hospital, I lead a fairly active life. Take this morning for instance…


I have spent my morning examining patients, dispensing drugs and writing up notes in the illegible manner that us doctors are renowned for.

Being a senior partner, and at only the age of thirty-five I might add, I have the luxury of picking and choosing who I see, filtering any unwanted, unattractive patients to my juniors. As you may imagine, there are plenty of those, and so my lesser colleagues are kept extremely busy whilst I enjoy a more, shall we say, relaxed working environment. After all, stress can kill you know! Believe me, I’m a doctor.

“Bzzzzzz.”
“Doctor Dark, Mary and Heather Weaver are here to see you.”

Oh, excuse me would you. Work beckons.

The doctor presses down on the intercom. “Thank you nurse Jones. Send them in please.”

This should prove interesting. I’d stick around if I were you.

A few moments later the door opens and in marches Nurse Jones, a matronly type in her late forties, followed by Mrs Weaver and her daughter Heather. The nurse proceeds over to the doctor’s desk and hands him a light-brown cardboard file.

“Thank you very much Nurse. Hold all my calls would you.”

“Yes doctor”, comes the immediate reply. Nurse Jones has worked for Doctor Dark for almost seven years and is his number one fan. She holds the consultant in the highest regard, and for her, he can do no wrong.

~ Oh, but I’m trying!

The full bosomed woman closes the door on her way out, whilst the doctor courteously stands up and gestures for his visitors to sit.

“Please, won’t you have a seat Mrs Weaver, you too Heather.” The handsome physician produces a warm, friendly smile, nurtured over a number of years to relax the patient and reassure them that they are in the safest of hands.

~ Well not yet. But hey! They’ve only just got here!

Mary Weaver is an attractive brunette in her mid thirties. Her curvy, hour-glass figure is wrapped in a smart business suit consisting of a pin-striped skirt and jacket, under which a slightly transparent silk blouse presses against a fine pair of breasts.

Her daughter, Heather, holds a strong resemblance to her mother, except of course that she is only about a third of Mary’s age and hasn’t developed quite so much in the hips or mammary department. Nonetheless, her small, cone-shaped titties make a decent enough impression on the T-shirt that she wears tucked into a pair of tight fitting faded jeans.

~ Oh yes, I want her.

“Now then,” says Dr. Dark forcing himself to take his eyes off the young girl for a moment and look down at her medical records. They consist of the usual array of tetanus and chicken pox jabs, together with a couple of trips to casualty for minor knocks and scrapes. Nothing , a typical medical history.

“So what seems to be the problem?” The doctor looks up and switches glances between Mary and her daughter.

Heather Weaver turns to her mother and anxiously wills her to do the talking. Her silent plea is registered with the woman on her left who clears her throat and begins to speak.

“Well Dr. Dark, Heather’s been feeling rather poorly for the last couple of days now, so I’ve kept her off . But when she still felt unwell this morning I thought it best to arrange an appointment with you immediately. Thank you for fitting us in so quickly by the way.”

“Not at all, Mrs Weaver. You did the right thing.”

Turning his gaze to the young , Dr Dark softens his voice. “So what are your symptoms young lady?”

The girl, alarmed that the question is directed at her, again nervously looks to her mother, as if she doesn’t speak English and needs her to interpret. Again Mary Weaver fields the question.

“Erm, well it started as a stomach ache on Sunday afternoon, didn’t it Heather?” She seeks confirmation from her silent offspring who just nods, slouched in her seat with her arms folded.

“And since then she’s been having a lot of stabbing pains. I gave her some paracetamol but they haven’t seem to done any good.”

“Hmmm, I see.” Doctor Dark sits, hands clasped for several moments, seemingly deep in thought.

~ I’ve made my diagnosis already my friends. But why let that spoil ~ the fun. First though, I feel it’s time we heard from the patient. ~ After all, she’s only had a walk-on part so far.

“How old are you Heather?”

The question is simple enough and Mrs Weaver feels sufficiently embarrassed enough not to step in and answer it. This time her daughter is on her own.

“Thirteen” Heather replies timidly, immediately averting her gaze down from the doctor’s stare.

~ Ah, thirteen… my lucky number.

Richard Dark knows this information already of course; Heather’s date of birth is indicated clearly in his notes. But he uses this as an exercise in opening up the youngster, so to speak. Once she answers one question, other answers will follow. And so he will let her talk herself into trouble… more trouble than she can possibly imagine.

“Uhuh… and you’ve started your periods I take it?”

The sweet blushes heavily and mumbles a yes.

“Over a year ago, Doctor”, embellishes Heather, eager to keep the prestigious doctor satisfied with the information he’s receiving.

“But you’re not having one now?”

“No.” The monosyllabic replies are getting a trifle tedious for the doctor and he decides to take a more hands-on approach.

“Right well we’d better take a look at you then. Would you mind slipping off your jeans and T-shirt and jumping up onto the examining table?” The instructions are given in such a calm, matter-of-fact manner, that neither of the two females can sense the feeling of eager anticipation the doctor is experiencing.

~ Oh, those six years of medical were well worth it you know.

Heather doesn’t move straight away. She is clearly not looking forward to undressing, one little bit.

“Come on Heather, don’t keep the doctor waiting”, chides her mother.

Reluctantly the youngster slips off her shoes and gets to her feet. Then, turning her back to the closely observing stranger, she starts to undo the button of her jeans.

~ Show me the money. Show me the money!

Heather tugs the jeans down over her slim thighs giving the doctor a great view of her firm bottom, covered in cream coloured panties. They’re pulled up between the crack of her arse exposing a fair amount of white cheek flesh either side. She quickly adjusts her knickers before bending over to slide the jeans all the way down to her ankles.

After kicking off the jeans she crosses her arms and pulls the T-shirt over her head, shaking free the long brown hair tied in a ponytail with a red ribbon. Mrs Weaver takes the top from her daughter, folds it neatly down on the empty chair and drapes the jeans over the backrest.

Richard observes the way Heather’s beautifully formed vertebrae lead his eyes down her back to gaze at the taut buttocks below.

~ And what a great arse it is too!

Heather gracefully glides the short distance to the examination table and gingerly hops up and sits on one end. This gives Richard his first frontal view of the semi-naked patient. He takes in the sight of the young girl’s breasts encased in a pretty lacy bra, complete with a frilly little bow where the two cups meet.

Further down, her mound is quite prominent in the front of her panties, which are stretched tight enough to show the lips of her adolescent pussy.

~ Trés bien!

“Yes, would you mind lying down on your back for me please Heather?”

She complies, moving her head to one side to make sure Mum is still there. Mary Weaver gives her daughter a re-assuring smile, which seems to help the patient relax a little.

Richard stands and tries not to sprint to the table. He towers over the nervous with his back facing Heather’s Mum.

“Ok Heather, now I’m just going to examine your tummy.”

Richard feels a twitch in his trousers as he looks down on the firm stomach muscles he’s just about to run his fingers over. He starts off a bit higher though, just above the girl’s cute ‘innie’ belly button. Placing two fingers on her skin, he pushes down slightly, and again feels movement in his briefs.

“Right Heather, tell me it hurts at all would you?”

“Ok”

Doctor Dark moves the two fingers down, revelling in the fantastic sensations that shoot from his fingertips, up the length of his arms, and wash around his entire body like a drug injected into the blood stream.

~ There’s no medicine available on the National Health that can match ~ this kind of feeling.

“Owww!”

Richard’s fingers are about an inch above the waistband of Heather’s panties.

“Uhuh.” He moves them slightly lower, brushing his thumb over the top of the cotton briefs. “What about here?”

“Aaagh!”

“Hmmm… and here?” The doctor moves his hand again, this time to his right.

“Argh!”

~ Ha! More pains than the Empire State building, and the acting won’t ~ be grabbing any nominations either. Just as I thought.

“Hmmm…” The Doctor moves slightly to his left, blocking the mother’s view of the proceedings. He slips his two fingers under the panties and feels a sparse covering of smooth pubic hairs. Heather tenses her body and strains her neck, peering between the twin peaks of her petite breasts at the doctor’s wandering fingers.

“And here?” He finds the top of her crack and dips his index finger between the lips, causing his patient to gasp involuntarily for the during the examination.

“The pain’s higher up,” she blurts out, quickly propping herself up on her shoulders.

Richard casually removes his hand and puts his fingers to his lips, as if deep in thought. He breathes in the delightful odour of juvenile cunt juice and notices that a thin film of liquid covers the tip of his finger.

Turning back round, he walks back to his desk, popping the digit into his mouth for a quick taste of the thirteen-year-olds pussy.

~ Mm-mmmmm. 1998, an excellent year!

“Thank you Heather. Would you like to get dressed now?” Richard called over to the young patient.

Heather returns to her chair and begins to dress.

“Well Doctor? What do you think?” Mary Weaver asks apprehensively.

Doctor Dark leans back in his comfortable leather chair and taps a pen on the file of notes in front of him.

“Now Mrs Weaver, I don’t want you to be alarmed. It’s probably just a minor stomach infection…” He sees Heather produce a discreet smirk as she slips her T-shirt over her head.

“However… just to be on the safe side, I’d like to admit Heather for a couple of days, just to run a few routine tests.”

“What?” Heather’s face turns white, not expecting this last statement.

~ Come into my web, said the spider to the fly.

“Don’t worry. There’s nothing to worry about young lady. It’ll just mean two or three days in hospital, four at the most.”

“But… but…”

“Come on darling. It’s for the best.” Mary Weaver also seems a little stunned by the news, but she knows that the eminent Dr. Dark will take good care of her baby.

“Right, well I’ll ask Nurse Jones to make arrangements with the hospital. If you’d like to take Heather home and pick up a few things Mrs Weaver, you can drop her at the hospital in say… an hour?”

“Yes, no problem Doctor. Is there anything specifically we should bring?”

“Umm, well a nightie and a tooth brush, that sort of thing… and Heather of course!”

Mary Weaver chuckles at the handsome doctor’s joke while her daughter puts on her shoes, wondering how she’s managed to get herself admitted to hospital. It was only a stupid maths test, for God’s sake!

Dr. Richard Dark presses his intercom and asks Nurse Jones to come in. She’s there in a matter of seconds.

“Nurse Jones, would you be so kind as to show Heather and Mrs Weaver out, and then arrange an admission at St. Augustines for Miss Weaver?”

“Yes doctor.” The buxom spinster holds the door open for the Weavers.

“Thank you very much doctor”, Mary says as she’s led out the doorway.

“Heather?” Richard calls out to the girl, as she’s just about to follow her mother out the room.

Heather looks round, still sporting a dazed look on her young, attractive face.

“There’s nothing to worry about, you know. I’ll be taking care of you… personally.”

~ And that’s a promise.

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