[Exclusive] TIS 1328.4 R18 Beach Episode (3). Sexy Doctor, Problematic Patient
[Exclusive] TIS 1328.4 R18 Beach Episode (3). Sexy Doctor, Problematic Patient
Note: Since the results between spoiled prince and psychopath were 40-40. So I will use half for each one. Discipline first. Then go feral later.
She stopped at the foot of the bed, looking down at me like she was inspecting something interesting.
“Ahh… there you are,” she said, voice soft and teasing. “My problem patient.”
I turned my head slowly to look at her.
And then…
I smiled.
Not warm.
Not friendly.
Wide.
Sharp.
Unsettling.
“Doctor Pearl, good evening,” I said casually, tilting my head slightly against the pillow.
She blinked.
Just a little.
Then recovered.
“Oh? You’re talkative today.”
I chuckled under my breath.
“Depends,” I said, eyes locking onto hers. “Are you here to fix me… or study me?”
She stepped closer.
“I’m here to discipline you.”
I laughed.
Actually laughed.
Loud enough to echo slightly in the room.
“Discipline?” I repeated, turning my head fully toward her now. “You look like you’re here to lose control, not enforce it.”
She narrowed her eyes.
But her lips twitched.
Yeah.
I hit something.
She walked around the bed slowly, circling me like she was trying to assert dominance.
I watched her the entire time.
Unblinking.
Smiling like I already knew the ending.
“You’ve been very… difficult,” she said, stopping beside me. “Unpredictable. Dangerous.”
“Mm,” I hummed. “And yet you came alone.”
She leaned down slightly.
“Because I’m the only one who can handle you.”
I tilted my head.
Grin widening.
“Oh, that’s cute.”
She frowned slightly.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I believe,” I said softly, voice dropping, “that you want to handle me.”
That pause?
That tiny pause?
Yeah.
I caught it.
She reached for one of the straps on the bed and pulled it across my chest, tightening it just enough to look official.
“Stay still,” she said.
I didn’t resist.
Not physically.
But my eyes?
Still locked on her.
Still amused.
Still dangerous.
“You’re very calm for someone being restrained,” she muttered.
“Am I?” I said lightly.
I shifted just slightly against the restraints, not enough to break them, just enough to show I could move if I wanted to.
“They’re not for me,” I added quietly. “They’re for you.”
Her hand paused.
“Excuse me?”
I leaned my head back, exposing my throat slightly.
“You need them,” I said, voice almost a whisper now. “Because without them… you’d get closer.”
Her breath hitched.
Barely.
But I saw it.
She straightened.
“I am a professional.”
I laughed again. “Doc…” I turned my head slowly back toward her, eyes glinting. “You walked into a room alone with a ‘psychopath’ wearing that outfit.”
My gaze dragged over her slowly.
“…and you expect me to believe you’re here for work?”
Her cheeks flushed.
Just a little.
“There are rules,” she said, but her voice had lost a bit of its firmness.
“Break them,” I replied instantly.
Silence.
She stepped closer.
Too close now.
Her hand reached for my chin, tilting my face slightly toward her.
“I’m the one in control here,” she said.
I smiled.
Soft this time.
Almost sweet.
“You keep telling yourself that.”
And then I leaned just slightly into her touch.
Not aggressive.
Not forceful.
Just enough to blur the line.
Her fingers tightened unconsciously.
And there it was.
The shift.
She wasn’t disciplining me anymore.
She was reacting.
I exhaled softly.
“You’re not trying to fix me,” I murmured.
Her eyes flickered.
“You’re trying to see how far I’ll go.”
I tilted my head again, smile returning.
“Careful, doc.”
My voice dropped lower.
“Because I don’t stop halfway.”
She swallowed.
Good.
I saw it. The shift. The moment where Doctor Pearl stopped being fully in control and started wondering if she walked into something deeper than a simple game.
But she didn’t back off.
Oh no.
Pearl recovered fast.
She straightened, lifted her chin, and grabbed another strap, this one going across my arms tighter.
“If you don’t behave,” she said, voice firm again, “I’ll have to escalate your treatment.”
I burst out laughing.
Not normal laughter.
Sharp. Loud. A little too unhinged.
“Escalate?” I tilted my head, grin stretching wider. “Oh doc… you make it sound like I’m scared.”
She pulled the strap tighter.
“Stay still.”
I leaned into it.
Not resisting.
Enjoying it.
“That’s it,” I murmured, eyes locked on hers. “Tighter. I like when you try.”
Her brows furrowed.
“You’re not supposed to like this.”
“I’m not supposed to be sane either,” I shot back instantly.
That landed.
I shifted slightly again, not enough to break free, but enough to show the restraints were more suggestion than prison.
“You think straps make me behave?” I chuckled. “They just make it more interesting.”
She grabbed my jaw suddenly, forcing my face toward her.
“I’m the doctor here.”
My grin didn’t falter.
“No,” I said softly. “You’re the one trying to convince yourself you are.”
Her fingers tightened.
There it was again.
That flicker.
I leaned forward just a little, enough to invade her space without breaking the restraints.
“C’mon,” I whispered, voice dripping with amusement. “Discipline me more.”
She hesitated.
I tilted my head, eyes glinting.
“Or…” I added slowly, letting my tone drop into something darker, more teasing, “do you want something else?”
Her breath hitched.
I watched her reaction carefully.
Every micro expression.
Every tiny shift.
“Something… you can’t write in your little medical notes?”
She scoffed.
“I don’t want anything from you.”
I laughed again.
“That’s adorable.”
She stepped back like she needed distance.
I followed with my gaze, still relaxed against the bed, still smiling like this was all part of the show.
“You walked in here dressed like that,” I said casually. “Called me a ‘naughty patient’…”
My eyes dragged slowly over her.
“…and now you’re pretending this is clinical?”
Her cheeks flushed.
“Stay on topic,” she snapped.
“What topic?” I tilted my head. “The one where you tie me up and pretend you’re in charge?”
She grabbed a clipboard from the side table, prop, obviously, and flipped it open aggressively.
“Patient shows signs of defiance,” she muttered.
I leaned my head back, laughing again.
“Write this down too,” I said. “Patient thinks the doctor is more dangerous than he is.”
She slammed the clipboard shut.
“Enough.”
Finally.
She moved closer again.
This time not circling.
Direct.
Intentional.
Her hand pressed against my chest, not soft, not teasing. Firm. Testing.
“Do you respond to authority?” she asked.
I looked down at her hand.
Then back up at her.
And smiled slowly.
“I respond to confidence.”
Her hand didn’t move.
“Then behave.”
I leaned forward just slightly again, eyes narrowing playfully.
“Make me.”
Silence.
Tension.
The air shifted.
Pearl exhaled slowly… then changed approach.
Her hand slid from my chest to my shoulder, fingers pressing in slightly, grounding. Not dominance. Not submission.
Something in between.
“You’re difficult,” she said quietly.
“I’m entertaining,” I corrected.
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Then she caught herself.
“This is a controlled environment,” she said, trying to regain that doctor tone.
I tilted my head again.
“No,” I said softly. “This is a game.”
She froze for half a second.
“And you’re starting to forget your role.”
Her eyes snapped back to mine.
“And you’re enjoying it too much.”
“Of course I am,” I said simply. “I always do.”
I leaned back again, completely relaxed, completely unbothered by the restraints.
“Now what, doc?” I added. “You going to keep pretending… or actually play?”
That question hung between us.
Heavy.
Tempting.
Dangerous.
And judging by the way her fingers curled slightly against my shoulder…
She hadn’t decided yet.
But she was very, very close.