Subculture (11 page)

No she wouldn't. Three minutes later Lisa acknowledged that her tormentor wasn't going to return - at least not that evening. He'd left her with a sore bum and an aching quim. She slid her middle right digits inside herself, gliding in three slender fingers. Longed for a man's thicker fingerpads. Or a man's...

She forced back the thought. Remembered the vibrator. Crawled to the edge of the bed then stumbled over to it. God, it's width felt good. She realised belatedly that Michael might be planning to burst in, hoping to find her using the mechanical pleasurer. Hastily she double-locked the door.

Groaning, the herbalist lay on her paddled bum. Her bare curves rubbed against the duvet sending fresh heat to her pubic region. She splayed her thighs far apart, imagining that they'd been cruelly staked there. Then she pictured some man warning her that he was now going to tease her with the machine, but that she wasn't to come. Don't wriggle, said the inner voice, or you'll make your Master angry. Don't even moan with pleasure or else he'll have to take off his thick leather belt.

Please, not your belt, she entreated inside her head.

Yes, angel, it's for your own good. It'll make you better.

But I'm not ill, she parried.

Sweetheart, your pussy is all hot and feverish. It's really sick.

Groaning at the images, Lisa positioned the mock phallus at her soaking rim. It went in easy. She switched the base on to its first speed, knowing that she wouldn't need any more. That paddling and Michael's teasing words had taken her to the edge and kept her there for an unbearable period. Now it would take so little to make her come.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. The smooth thickness oscillated inside her lubricated void, filling it with increasing rapture. The tiny movements thrilled through her tummy, her inner thighs, her swollen folds. She was almost there. Master I beg to come. That inner voice again. But do you deserve to come? asked her Master. Have you been an obedient little girl? She pictured his hands brushing lightly over her quivering rump as if he owned it. Or have you been a bad young slave who needs to be stripped and tied and whipped?

‘Aaaaah!' Lisa moaned as the orgasmic surge shot through. She put her free hand to her mouth to stifle her cries of elation. Kept her right hand on the vibrator's handle, holding the machine right in. Her paddled cheeks buffed against the cover as she pushed down and down and down to force out the last of the sweetness. Long moments later she switched off the sex toy and withdrew it gingerly from her satiated core.

Sleepily, she turned over onto her tummy. She wondered what Michael was doing now. Hoped dazedly that he'd been forced to use some vibrating mechanical vagina. Could you buy such an object? He'd doubtlessly know. He knew how to secure the best mock phalluses, how to effectively lay on a paddle. Knew how to take a previously sensible egalitarian woman to the very limits of disciplined desire.

To her limits and beyond? Lisa drifted towards sleep. She knew that if he'd kissed her after the thrashing she would have responded with the kind of ardour she hadn't felt since she was a teenager. She'd felt the level of lust she'd felt as a seventeen year old petting in the backseat of some boyfriend's father's van. If he'd only held her and stroked her hair and moved his hands down to her sexual centre... But she wouldn't plead for his caresses, and Michael had said he'd only make love to her if she begged.

 

She was an engaged woman - she had to concentrate on thoughts of her fiance, and of her work. Shakily, Lisa walked to her new Consultation Suite. It was four whole days since Michael had brought her to a shrieking and moaning orgasm with the vibrator. Four days of recalling the way the paddle had singed her helpless cheeks. The herbalist felt the traitorous frissons snake through her groin at the memory. She had to forget.

She was grateful that Michael hadn't referred to the incident again. At dinner each night since he'd been the genial if slightly formal host, making sure that everyone was well fed and catered for. Not one of the assembled staff had been spanked or teased or stripped.

Now Lisa was to meet him for a chat before her first patient - and afterwards to see if he agreed with what she diagnosed.

‘Morning,' she said as he sauntered in. She tried to look nonchalant. Admitted inwardly that she'd felt so much more in control in Scarborough on familiar ground.

‘Any clues from the case notes?' Michael Landers asked. Lisa told him what she thought then held her breath until he nodded. ‘That's what I figured,' he murmured, looking pleased.

‘When I see the full answers to my questionnaire I should be able to make a more firm diagnosis,' Lisa added.

‘Indeed. I've found that the same complaints crop up time and time again.' The doctor smiled at her appreciatively. ‘Synthetic drugs don't always deal with the underlying problem - which is where you come in.'

‘Me and my herbs,' Lisa replied. She felt ridiculously happy. If only it could always be this way.

An hour later the patient waved her grateful way out and Michael smiled his way back in. Lisa felt gloriously infallible.

‘Next,' she said gaily, looking towards the door.

Michael smiled. ‘You have your last consultation at three, after which Achille will be driving the patient home some way across the island. Do you want to go with him for a change of scene?' He stretched out and picked up one of the thick tomes from her bookshelf, looking down at it intently. ‘He'll be driving along past the harbour. It's picturesque.'

‘Sure. I'd like that,' Lisa said calmly. She'd been churlish to refuse his earlier chauffeuring offers. ‘Why doesn't Achille live in?' she continued curiously.

‘Oh, I only need him part time. And he has a wife - they run a cafe together.'

‘So only single female staff get rooms at Vitality,' Lisa murmured, thinking out loud.

‘Ah, so you consider yourself to be single?' Michael said. She sensed a note of triumph in his voice.

‘No, I'm... halfway there. Halfway to being married. I just meant... well, I'm only temporary. I don't count.'

‘If you help every patient as much as you helped the woman you've just seen then your contribution will count a great deal,' the doctor disputed. ‘You could stay on.'

‘No I can't.' The herbalist was surprised by the strength of her own response. ‘Reece wants to live in a less out of the way place, less countrified.' She suspected that she was deliberately misunderstanding her new employer, that he meant she could stay on here alone.

‘And do you always do what Reece wants?' Michael Landers asked softly.

‘No way.' Lisa realised that in her relationships she was the one who usually called the shots, the one that men deferred to. ‘I'm a free agent, of course.'

The doctor stared at her steadily. ‘Then as a free agent you could choose to live permanently at Vitality and further your career.'

And further my submission with you? Lisa turned away from him and towards her notebook, pretending to write down some additional information. ‘I got a letter from Reece today. He's missing me a lot,' she mumbled awkwardly.

‘That's understandable.'

‘He - I'll get Achille to show me where the Post Office is.' Lisa continued quickly, ‘You know, for when I write back to Reece.'

Michael left. Lisa started to write to her fiance immediately. Maybe if she sent some of her words and thoughts to Reece she'd start to feel closer to him. Would overwrite the lust she'd felt when Michael Landers bared her bottom and tied her over a stool and brought a hardwood paddle swishing down.

Her next patient came and went. Then another. Lisa kept hoping that Michael would reappear so that she could enjoy his professional friendship and respect. Suddenly lonely, she fought back the urge to seek him out in his surgery. She settled instead for grilling the inscrutable Marie-Rose.

‘Is Dr Landers busy?' she asked casually.

The older woman nodded. ‘He's always busy.'

‘Non-stop work, is it?' Lisa continued.

The Receptionist looked at her more intently. ‘No, he makes time for personal friends.'

Was he seeing someone just now? Lisa kept the question inside. Didn't want to appear to be fishing for information. Natural curiosity could so easily be confused for personal regard.

‘He runs a tight ship,' the herbalist murmured, remembering Michael's own earlier words. She looked back at Marie-Rose, hoping that she'd divulge further detail of the man's lifestyle.

‘He certainly does,' the Maltese receptionist said with obvious pride. She turned to the side of the Reception hatch and neatly stacked five coloured records cards. ‘He has a place for everything and keeps everything in its place.'

And everyone, Lisa thought warily. It seemed that Michael had the right to call in to her consultation suite whenever he wished, but he hadn't encouraged her to reverse the procedure. If she went to see him now she'd feel like she was taking too much for granted or intruding on his valuable time.

At the end of her working day she showered, snacked and changed. Then Achille knocked on her bedroom door. ‘Siska's already in the front seat awaiting the drive home,' he said lightly. ‘Prepare to hear her life story - she's a big Dr Landers fan.'

‘Well, he's a good doctor,' Lisa replied. She turned to the dressing table to find her keys then found she was blushing. Michael might have told the chauffeur that he'd spanked her - she knew how boastful and macho men could be.

‘I'll just get my bag,' she added tightly.

Achille watched as she reached for her purse. ‘You can charge any expenses to Vitality. Dr Landers is well known around the isle.'

‘No. I'm self sufficient. I got a generous advance on my wage.' Lisa said.

‘We all did. Dr Landers treats his staff well as long as we obey,' Achille replied softly. Was that a dig at herself and her submission? He seemed like a nice family man, and yet...

‘I obey the rules of good health. I take a holistic approach,' she answered briskly, checking that she had her keys and her Maltese money.

‘Whole...? This word I don't know,' the chauffeur mumbled, standing in her doorway and moving from foot to foot.

‘Holistic - means I look at the whole package. Not just a patient's symptoms but his mindset, background and diet,' Lisa said. She closed her door and set off down the stairs behind the older man, was aware that she'd sounded unappreciative and churlish in her efforts to seem dominant. Now she felt awkward and guilty. These seemed to be the main emotions she experienced here. Guilt and... well, a shamed but persistent excitement. A groin-based nervousness about what could happen next.

Driving Siska home was what was going to happen next. Throughout the road-twisting journey she praised Dr Michael Landers.

‘She's his biggest fan,' Achille grinned when the woman finally left the car.

‘Maybe she's got a crush on him.' Lisa joked back. She tensed up her shoulders as Achille stared coolly at her. That had been a cheap jibe to make.

‘He's made her feel better. She's grateful. That's all,' the chauffeur explained.

‘I'm sure she is.' That sounded even worse. Where Michael Landers was concerned, it was hard for Lisa to sound neutral. He was just so bloody inscrutable, sometimes made her feel unsure of her essential self. Yet at other times he'd praised her character and her work, and obviously meant it. He wasn't one of those women-are-merely-decorative men.

‘Malta has many beautiful Churches,' Achille murmured with a shy sideways glance. That was an obvious cue as to where he wanted to drive her. As he edged the car out on to the quiet road, Lisa decided to take the bait.

‘I'd love to see them.' She hoped that he wouldn't expect her to cross herself or take part in any ceremony. She respected others rights to their belief system, but it wasn't for her.

‘I suppose there are lots of weddings performed here,' she continued as the chauffeur pointed out two chapels in quick succession. Then she shivered slightly at her own choice of words. Years ago she'd been married in a Church and it had ended in disaster. What on earth had made her think of such formal ceremonies now? She and Reece had already decided on a low key Registrar's service with just two witnesses and a couple of other close friends.

Achille looked at her strangely as he turned the wheel. ‘You think that you and your boyfriend marry here?'

‘I... no.' She realised that she'd been wondering if Michael had ever married on the island. Sucked in her breath - she might as well assuage her curiosity. She had to know. ‘I believe that you're the only married member of staff, Achille?'

Achille peeped at two other drivers. When his reply came it was somewhat non-committal. ‘I have a wife.'

That wasn't the information she desired. ‘And has... has Dr Landers ever had a wife?'

The chauffeur smiled to himself as he drove round yet another corner. ‘Not that I'm aware of. No.'

Lisa looked out of the window, keeping her eyes and mouth impassive. Still, she felt her spirits lift. ‘So he's opted to remain a single man.'

The chauffeur gave her a darting sideways glance. ‘He has had many girlfriends.'

‘Never wanted to make it legal?'

‘No.' The chauffeur stared into her eyes, and his gaze was knowing. ‘I think he has yet to find one who likes the same things.'

One who likes being dragged over a knee. One who likes having her panties pulled down and her buttocks reddened. Lisa thought of Jamilla being caned. ‘I'm sure he's spoilt for choice with such an attractive female staff,' she murmured, pinkening.

‘Desire and love - they're different,' the chauffeur replied.

Michael clearly desired her - she'd felt his erection digging into the soft curve of her belly. And if she was honest, she half-wanted him to take her in his arms, take her to his bed.

But he probably used his bed as a whipping post. He'd want to tie her arms and legs to its respective sides then lift up her skirt and use his belt on her creamy bottom. He'd want to tease her with his knowing fingers or with a sex toy before he'd let her come. Lisa sighed. Just experiencing his innate authority and sexual magnetism was enough for her. She didn't need erotic chastisement as well. And if her fantasies were more and more that way... well, she didn't have to act on them. They could remain safely inside her head whilst she used her busy fingers on her hungry clit.

Maybe it was time to flirt with the man in a conventional way? Back at Vitality, Lisa rifled through her wardrobe in search of something alluring. Impatiently she pushed aside her casual cotton shorts and printed T-shirts. She intended to dress for dinner with especial care. Pretending to be impervious to his charms hadn't worked, so she'd try a different more seductive tactic. Would use her body language to acknowledge the attraction between them, and try to see their non-working relationship as a flirtatious game.

After refreshing her flesh with a lavender-oil bath, Lisa donned her crushed velvet midnight blue dress. Then she added a plaited gold chain which shone rich and assured against her lightly tanned decollatage. She looked healthy and attractive, even if she couldn't rival some of the raven-haired Maltese beauties she'd seen.

Dinner was the usual conversationally-relaxed affair. Was she the only one who felt tense, waiting for something to happen? Lisa ate half of the delicious paella, but her mind wasn't on her meal. Maybe Michael sensed that, for afterwards he leaned closer to her. ‘It's still early. I sometimes take my car to the Casino. Perhaps you'd like to join me there tonight?'

Lisa hesitated. She looked at the others. They were talking amongst themselves, not paying her any attention. ‘Sure, it'll make a nice change,' she said. The twenty-eight year old was determined to keep her voice casual to the point of nonchalance. She didn't want him to know that she was pleased. ‘I'll just get changed,' she added, wondering if a full length gown was required. She'd never been to a casino before.

‘Please, don't. You look beautiful as you are.' He glanced at his own dove grey suit. ‘They have a strict dress code there.' He looked at her more intently as she swigged down her fifth glass of white wine and accepted a refill from Jamilla. ‘They also have exacting standards in the gaming rooms. No loud voices. No distractions. No drunkenness.'