Whore
folder
S through Z › Scrubs
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
9,315
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › Scrubs
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
9,315
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Scrubs the television show, in any way shape or form, and i am making no money from this fiction. I promise to clean the characters and have them home by eleven.
Whore
Its late, seriously late, and the hospital is dead quiet.
Well not completely quiet, but there aren't may patients on this floor, and all the nurses that are supposed to be at this station have mysteriously vanished, hence my presence. Even though I'm a doctor. I dont know why I just find it so hard to say no to carla, especially when she turns on the Spanish....oh well. Here I am, doing my reports and waiting for *one* of the nurses to come back so I can go home, when suddenly i become aware of the creepifying feeling that someone is watching me, and they are waytooclose. My theory is proven when i feel a hand on the back of my neck, pushing my head down towards the counter. Hot breath on the back of my neck.
"All alone, Barbie?" I knew it was him. Who else could it be? Why won't he leave me alone? I try to twist out of his steel grip but he only pushes me forward, inexorably, until my cheek is pressed against the counter and the edge is biting into my midsection.
"Please..." Jeez, when did my voice become so utterly pathetic? Tell him to go away, to fuck off and die, to...something!
"Please what, Barbie? You know better than that. You know you have to ask nicely if you want me to fuck you."
*smack* His hand comes down hard, on my arse. The sound echoes through the halls and i whimper, half in fear that someone will come and see, and half in mind-numbing arousal. Why am i like this? Why can't i make him go away?
The hand that isn't holding me down starts tugging at my scrubs, pulling the drawstring and pushing them down to my ankles. Why in hell did today have to be laundry day? It feels like fate, like i deserve this, like i wanted this and now i'm going to get it.
"Now then, Barbie, i wonder if you can tell me what kind of girl comes in to work with no panties on, hmm? What kind of girl walks around here, teasing every man in sight, with no goddamn panties on underneath her scrubs? Hmm?" He brings his hand down on the other cheek, hard. *crack* "Well? I guess i'll have to tell you, then." He bends down, pressing himself into my soft arse. When did he undo his pants? Oh, god. "A slut, Barbie. A good-for- nothing two-bit *whore*" he breathes into my ear, wrapping his hand in my hair, and reaching down to adjust himself so the tip of his cock was at my entrance. "So fucking wet...you want this, you need this. Whore."
He punctuates his last word by thrusting in to the hilt. And, gods help me, I moan. He uses my hair as a handle, forcing my back to arch as he pins my hips to the counter with his own. I can't see his face, except in my mind, the feral snarl etched into his features. He withdraws, almost completely, then slams back in. I whimper, he's so right. I am a whore. Who else but a whore would enjoy this? Who else but a godforsaken slut would be about three seconds away from begging him to fuck her faster?
"Please...please..." I can't get enough air. He pulls on my hair, hard, bringing me closer to his face.
"Please WHAT, Barbie?" He demands the submission from me, and i have no choice but to give it to him.
"Please....Sir.." he growls, and the sound vibrates through me. Yanking my head to the side, he bites down on my neck, hard, marking me, another bruise i'll have to cover up. Another way he marks me as his own.
He fucks me harder, faster, till i'm moaning on every breath, till the need is coiling hard and bright inside me and i have to come before i *die*.
"Don't you dare, Barbie, dont you *dare* come without permission." He knows i wont, knows I can't.
"Please..please, Sir..please may i come? Please, oh god please.." Do i not have more words in my vocabulary? Apparently not. Here, i'm not a doctor, i'm not an intellegent, independant woman. I'm a whore, and i need to fucking come.
He brings his hand down to my cunt, stroking the skin gently, then pinching my clit, hard.
"Come, you little fucking slut, come for me NOW." My mind clicks off, and, unable to resist the imperative in his voice, i come like a fucking freight train. I can hear him groan, "Again, one more, slut, come for me!" and empty himself inside me, and a second orgasm (rare treat!) rolls through me, leaving me boneless and exhausted.
He pulls out, and wipes himself on the hem of my shirt. He gives me one last *thwack* and untangles his hand from my hair, and walks off, whistling. I do what i do best in these situations. Pull up my scrubs, find a supply closet, and have a good, long, cry.
Well not completely quiet, but there aren't may patients on this floor, and all the nurses that are supposed to be at this station have mysteriously vanished, hence my presence. Even though I'm a doctor. I dont know why I just find it so hard to say no to carla, especially when she turns on the Spanish....oh well. Here I am, doing my reports and waiting for *one* of the nurses to come back so I can go home, when suddenly i become aware of the creepifying feeling that someone is watching me, and they are waytooclose. My theory is proven when i feel a hand on the back of my neck, pushing my head down towards the counter. Hot breath on the back of my neck.
"All alone, Barbie?" I knew it was him. Who else could it be? Why won't he leave me alone? I try to twist out of his steel grip but he only pushes me forward, inexorably, until my cheek is pressed against the counter and the edge is biting into my midsection.
"Please..." Jeez, when did my voice become so utterly pathetic? Tell him to go away, to fuck off and die, to...something!
"Please what, Barbie? You know better than that. You know you have to ask nicely if you want me to fuck you."
*smack* His hand comes down hard, on my arse. The sound echoes through the halls and i whimper, half in fear that someone will come and see, and half in mind-numbing arousal. Why am i like this? Why can't i make him go away?
The hand that isn't holding me down starts tugging at my scrubs, pulling the drawstring and pushing them down to my ankles. Why in hell did today have to be laundry day? It feels like fate, like i deserve this, like i wanted this and now i'm going to get it.
"Now then, Barbie, i wonder if you can tell me what kind of girl comes in to work with no panties on, hmm? What kind of girl walks around here, teasing every man in sight, with no goddamn panties on underneath her scrubs? Hmm?" He brings his hand down on the other cheek, hard. *crack* "Well? I guess i'll have to tell you, then." He bends down, pressing himself into my soft arse. When did he undo his pants? Oh, god. "A slut, Barbie. A good-for- nothing two-bit *whore*" he breathes into my ear, wrapping his hand in my hair, and reaching down to adjust himself so the tip of his cock was at my entrance. "So fucking wet...you want this, you need this. Whore."
He punctuates his last word by thrusting in to the hilt. And, gods help me, I moan. He uses my hair as a handle, forcing my back to arch as he pins my hips to the counter with his own. I can't see his face, except in my mind, the feral snarl etched into his features. He withdraws, almost completely, then slams back in. I whimper, he's so right. I am a whore. Who else but a whore would enjoy this? Who else but a godforsaken slut would be about three seconds away from begging him to fuck her faster?
"Please...please..." I can't get enough air. He pulls on my hair, hard, bringing me closer to his face.
"Please WHAT, Barbie?" He demands the submission from me, and i have no choice but to give it to him.
"Please....Sir.." he growls, and the sound vibrates through me. Yanking my head to the side, he bites down on my neck, hard, marking me, another bruise i'll have to cover up. Another way he marks me as his own.
He fucks me harder, faster, till i'm moaning on every breath, till the need is coiling hard and bright inside me and i have to come before i *die*.
"Don't you dare, Barbie, dont you *dare* come without permission." He knows i wont, knows I can't.
"Please..please, Sir..please may i come? Please, oh god please.." Do i not have more words in my vocabulary? Apparently not. Here, i'm not a doctor, i'm not an intellegent, independant woman. I'm a whore, and i need to fucking come.
He brings his hand down to my cunt, stroking the skin gently, then pinching my clit, hard.
"Come, you little fucking slut, come for me NOW." My mind clicks off, and, unable to resist the imperative in his voice, i come like a fucking freight train. I can hear him groan, "Again, one more, slut, come for me!" and empty himself inside me, and a second orgasm (rare treat!) rolls through me, leaving me boneless and exhausted.
He pulls out, and wipes himself on the hem of my shirt. He gives me one last *thwack* and untangles his hand from my hair, and walks off, whistling. I do what i do best in these situations. Pull up my scrubs, find a supply closet, and have a good, long, cry.