Doctor's Orders (Pounded By The Pack)(Steamy BBW Werebear Romance) by Willow Wilde
Authors: Willow Wilde
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Doctor’s Orders
(Pounded By The Pack)
I always valued order in my life. As a child, I studied scrupulously, eager to build the best grades that I could so I could follow my dream and become a doctor. I passed into the programs for exceptional children with flying colors. Then there were the honors classes, all throughout high school. Keeping to a few reliable friends, I maintained dignity, consistency and, above all else, order.
Everything I owned had its place. Every day had its goals.
The only exception is during pre-med at college. As stressful as those years were, when the proper opportunity struck and I felt like going out, I would hit the bars. In all but a very few cases, I’d go back home with a stranger, sometimes two, just for the controlled spontaneity of it. I always let ‘em think that they had barely won me over, as if I hadn’t decided within thirty seconds of chatting with them that I was going to fuck their brains out before I went to sleep. But they never quite satisfied me. Even longer arrangements and relationships with well-meaning, ultimately boring men never quite did the trick either.
The only way I could satisfy my needs was by myself, with my ankles spread and a vibrator gripped firmly in my hand. After countless tries otherwise and plenty of nights spent getting a guy to climax, then taking care of my own needs quietly in the dark while he slept, I eventually gave up on the whole scene. Coincidentally, this was right around the time that I began medical school proper, and I became a hell of a lot busier.
I let my life filter back into its tightly controlled, orderly fashion. It kept things simple, manageable. I didn’t screw around with anyone in my ward, although it was clear that most of them were grouping off. Neither did I really see anyone else at all, outside of a couple of reliable flings that I broke off after a few weeks.
Little did I know that this part of my life — this wild abandon, the thrill of being caught between strangers in the dead of the night — was going to come back in a seriously WILD way.
* * * *
Reading by lamplight on the couch, I heard a loud banging from the front. My eyes fell upon the clock: it was after midnight, far too late for standard clients. The banging repeated, and I glanced over my shoulder towards the heavy oak door.
For a moment, I thought that that might have been the end of it — but alas, I wasn’t more than another page into my book before I heard a crashing in the backyard. Alarmed, I placed the book on the end table, leapt up to my feet, and peered through the patio curtain – eager to see what all the fuss was.
Immediately, three men came into sight. The center one help his arms limply around the shoulders of the others, and his feet were dragging along the ground. As I tried to decipher what I was seeing, or why they were here , I noticed how handsome they were — particularly accented by their broad shoulders, incredible muscles, and complete lack of shirts or jackets.
As a doctor, I felt a certain compulsion to help those in need. Without thinking rationally, I pulled the curtain back and ripped open the sliding door. In hindsight, this was incredibly stupid, and I’m lucky that this wasn’t some crazy excuse to break into my house and destroy me. Instead of immediately pulling me at gunpoint or ripping off my clothes, the two strangers carted their drooping, obviously ill friend inside. They carefully lowered him down to the couch where I had been sitting. He seemed listless, his breathing hallow and listless.
“What is going on?” I demanded to know. “What are you doing here?”
“You are a doctor, correct? We saw the sign out front, and are in need of some immediate attention. You must help him,” one of the men explained.
“At this time of night? Do you have any idea how crazy
(Pounded By The Pack)
I always valued order in my life. As a child, I studied scrupulously, eager to build the best grades that I could so I could follow my dream and become a doctor. I passed into the programs for exceptional children with flying colors. Then there were the honors classes, all throughout high school. Keeping to a few reliable friends, I maintained dignity, consistency and, above all else, order.
Everything I owned had its place. Every day had its goals.
The only exception is during pre-med at college. As stressful as those years were, when the proper opportunity struck and I felt like going out, I would hit the bars. In all but a very few cases, I’d go back home with a stranger, sometimes two, just for the controlled spontaneity of it. I always let ‘em think that they had barely won me over, as if I hadn’t decided within thirty seconds of chatting with them that I was going to fuck their brains out before I went to sleep. But they never quite satisfied me. Even longer arrangements and relationships with well-meaning, ultimately boring men never quite did the trick either.
The only way I could satisfy my needs was by myself, with my ankles spread and a vibrator gripped firmly in my hand. After countless tries otherwise and plenty of nights spent getting a guy to climax, then taking care of my own needs quietly in the dark while he slept, I eventually gave up on the whole scene. Coincidentally, this was right around the time that I began medical school proper, and I became a hell of a lot busier.
I let my life filter back into its tightly controlled, orderly fashion. It kept things simple, manageable. I didn’t screw around with anyone in my ward, although it was clear that most of them were grouping off. Neither did I really see anyone else at all, outside of a couple of reliable flings that I broke off after a few weeks.
Little did I know that this part of my life — this wild abandon, the thrill of being caught between strangers in the dead of the night — was going to come back in a seriously WILD way.
* * * *
Reading by lamplight on the couch, I heard a loud banging from the front. My eyes fell upon the clock: it was after midnight, far too late for standard clients. The banging repeated, and I glanced over my shoulder towards the heavy oak door.
For a moment, I thought that that might have been the end of it — but alas, I wasn’t more than another page into my book before I heard a crashing in the backyard. Alarmed, I placed the book on the end table, leapt up to my feet, and peered through the patio curtain – eager to see what all the fuss was.
Immediately, three men came into sight. The center one help his arms limply around the shoulders of the others, and his feet were dragging along the ground. As I tried to decipher what I was seeing, or why they were here , I noticed how handsome they were — particularly accented by their broad shoulders, incredible muscles, and complete lack of shirts or jackets.
As a doctor, I felt a certain compulsion to help those in need. Without thinking rationally, I pulled the curtain back and ripped open the sliding door. In hindsight, this was incredibly stupid, and I’m lucky that this wasn’t some crazy excuse to break into my house and destroy me. Instead of immediately pulling me at gunpoint or ripping off my clothes, the two strangers carted their drooping, obviously ill friend inside. They carefully lowered him down to the couch where I had been sitting. He seemed listless, his breathing hallow and listless.
“What is going on?” I demanded to know. “What are you doing here?”
“You are a doctor, correct? We saw the sign out front, and are in need of some immediate attention. You must help him,” one of the men explained.
“At this time of night? Do you have any idea how crazy
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