The Doctor and the Naughty Girl (8 page)

“What are you…?” Amity shuffled forward. “I can’t go any further!”

Her voice was strangely muffled, one of the many subtle aspects of corner time he loved.

“Right in, Amity. If your breasts aren’t touching each wall, you’re not close enough.”

She gave a mortified whimper, but complied, pressing forward.

“Good girl.”

Dane took a moment to look at her, enjoying her obedience, listening to her quickening breathing. Then he reached around her hip, undoing the button at her fly, and drawing down her zipper.

Amity gasped, her hand grasping his forearm. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking down your pants.” He slapped her bottom, loving the pleasing wobble of her buttock. “Hands behind your back.”

“You don’t…” Then she let out an exasperated groan, her hands clamping together behind her again.

“Watch the attitude, young lady, or we can add to this punishment.”

She stiffened. “Sorry, sir.”

Amity let out a whimper as he lowered her slacks, pushing them down her legs until they fell to her feet. Gooseflesh broke out across the backs of her pale thighs, and he took a moment to caress her there, to feel the rough texture of her embarrassment.

“So pretty,” he murmured, almost to himself.

He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her striped panties, hearing Amity’s sharp intake of breath. He drew them down slowly, savoring it, a low sound rumbling from his throat as her broad bare bottom was revealed to his gaze. He tugged on one side, then the other, drawing this out for her mortification—and his enjoyment.

Finally, the panties lay atop the slacks piled at her feet, and he stood close, laying his chin on her shoulder.

“Now, you’ll stay here, just like this, for fifteen minutes. Every time I see you move, or fidget, I’ll add another minute.” He stepped back, drinking in the lush perfection of her plump, round buttocks. “I want you to think about your atrocious behavior, and how it got you into your current predicament. Think about why bad girls end up with their mouths washed out with soap, their noses in the corner, their bare bottoms on display.”

She rested her forehead against the wall, her hands twisting together.

Dane touched her naked hip, her bottom quivering a moment. “Do you think you can do that, Amity?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, her voice a strained murmur.

“Good.”

Returning to his seat, he turned the chair so that he sat with the table to his left so that he might watch her, drink in her shame as she stood in her lonely corner. Her bottom was as lily white as the first time he’d seen it. It had been two weeks since her first spanking, and though he wouldn’t have expected any marks or bruising to have remained, a small part of him
was
disappointed. He enjoyed seeing his marks upon his sub’s bare bottom.

Except she’s not yours.

He was sure Amity’s defiance and rash behavior would give him plenty more opportunities to leave those marks.

Dane thumbed through his files for a couple of minutes, but found himself unable to concentrate, his gaze drawn back to that bare bottom still on mouthwatering display. She stood very, very still. Admirably so, for many women when first introduced to corner time found themselves completely at a loss as to how to stand still. The shame was often a much more trying punishment than the spankings that usually preceded it—which was exactly why he found it so effective.

It didn’t hurt that it made his cock as hard as a railroad spike either.

The conference room phone rang, and Amity yelped, making him grin. He picked it up.

“Dr. McKendrick.”

“You’ve been in there awhile.”

He was glad to hear Cathie seemed to be back to her wry self. He’d had to talk to her after her run-in with Amity, knowing it was necessary to keep the peace. He liked saying it even less than Cathie probably liked hearing it. But she’d apologized, and said she’d get over it.

“We had a… discussion.”

Amity dropped her head, folding into herself a little. He knew she’d be listening.

“I didn’t hear any tell-tale sound—and yes, I was listening for it.” Cathie was silent a moment. “Let me guess, some quiet time?”

“Yep. I might have stolen an idea or two from somebody we know.”

He knew Cathie was a big believer in corner time for submissives. She’d been the one to open Dane’s eyes to it. She’d even had the buxom little Leah demonstrate for them one day. That poor Leah.

Cathie’s quiet chuckle was rich with satisfaction. “Well, I did have a real reason for calling. Mrs. Ravenna—the one with the really bad Braxton-Hicks. She just called again, and it’s back.”

“Let’s get her in. Wait, she lives all the way out toward the coast, right?”

“Yep.”

“Might not have time.” He glanced at his watch, looking over at Amity’s bottom. A bottom he was already beginning to think of as his domain. “If she can’t get in before closing, let’s have her check in to Maternity at Southwest. I can meet her over there if that’s what she needs to do.”

“Got it. Have fun, doctor.” Cathie hung up.

Dane sat there a moment more, weighing what needed to be done, and what he wanted to do.

“Shit,” he muttered, standing and adjusting his now painful erection. He walked slowly over to her, taking his time, unable to peel his gaze from that gorgeous ass. He wanted nothing more than to turn her over his knee right there, spank and squeeze and massage those bewitching cheeks until she was moaning through her tears, her pussy weeping its surrender onto his thighs.

Soon, Amity.

He reached out, clutching the pleasing, silky weight of one buttock. She jerked and clenched her ass tight.

“Uh uh,” he said, giving her a slap. “Keep them loose.”

“Doctor… I can’t.”

“It’s ‘sir’ when you’re being punished, Amity.” He squeezed her buttock hard, shaking her a little. “And you definitely can. Just relax. I want them loose. No clenching.”

He savored every second of watching her struggle with it, the muscles of her bottom haltingly obeying until finally she was soft in his hand once more. He lifted her cheek, letting it fall, then did it again, testing her obedience and luxuriating in the bounce and wobble of her generous flesh. He could do this all day—which was why he needed to stop. He patted her gently.

“You can go back to your desk, Amity. Punishment’s over.”

She let out a ragged breath, whispering, “Oh, thank God.”

Taking his seat again, he watched her dress once more, her face beet red, her fingers shaking as she put herself back together. She avoided meeting his gaze, which was just as well. If he got a look at those soulful brown eyes again, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. He needed to get a hold of himself. This was turning into something he wasn’t sure he could control anymore. But they’d started down the path, and there was much more to come.

“I’ve got you scheduled for next week,” he said, crossing his legs, hoping it would hide the erection still throbbing between his thighs.

Brow creased, she looked up at him. “I don’t… for what?”

“Your exam. You’ve gone five years without one, which is completely unacceptable.”

“Sir, I—” she swallowed, looking down again, “—I’ll find another doctor and schedule it.”

“No, you won’t, which is precisely why I’ll be doing it. I don’t trust you not to flake on this. Until you start giving me reason to believe you’ll take better care of yourself, I’m going to be helping you with that.”

“Help,” she said, her voice flat, just on the edge of sarcastic.

Dane sat forward, his elbows on his thighs. “Is that sarcasm I hear?”

She stilled for a moment, then her eyes darted up to his. “N-no, sir.”

“Then get back to work.”

She didn’t say a word as she fled from the room, the door shutting with a sense of finality, as if the thud was the closing curtain on the first act of the little dance they’d just engaged in.

“Fuck, I’m going to pay for this,” Dane muttered, fitting a hand over the bulge of his crotch, knowing he’d have a world-class case of blue balls after this little encounter.

Now, less sure of himself than he’d ever been, he got up and went back to work.

Chapter Seven

It was Friday and she
still
didn’t see it.

All week long she’d been obsessively scanning the schedule, looking for it. The exam.

Nothing.

“He’s probably doing this on purpose, making me sweat,” she murmured, glancing up at the lobby area to make sure she didn’t have any company. It was empty.

It’s exactly what he would do. She should’ve expected it. The man—beautiful though he may have been—was a sadist. She just knew he’d know she’d be checking for it, worrying about it, hoping he’d forget.

Maybe he’s forgotten it?

That would be just like him too, wouldn’t it? Let her sense of optimism prey upon her, build up that false hope. She knew deep down he hadn’t forgotten it. The man didn’t forget anything when it came to her.

Every night that week, she’d lain awake, staring out her window at the city lights, trying to talk herself out of masturbating yet again to the images, the shame, the arousal she’d experienced in that room with him.

She’d never be able to look at conference rooms the same way again.

Bastard.

He’d punish her for that too, wouldn’t he? The soaping… had sucked. Completely. There was nothing at all arousing about that. And the taste?

Amity shuddered.

While it wasn’t arousing, there
was
something else about it she’d thought of as she’d laid there each sleepless night in her bed.

Accountability.

She thought other girls who cursed like men were trashy, demeaning themselves—that was her first gut reaction when she heard a woman dropping a needless f-bomb. But how hypocritical was she in not liking other women doing it, yet she’d feel no compunction about doing it herself? Constantly. It was stupid. She shouldn’t care… but she did. Was it possible that somewhere inside, she appreciated someone caring that she acted like a lady? That someone was taking the time to steer her in the direction she really wanted to go?

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Maybe she had latent daddy issues that Dr. McKendrick’s expectations dredged back up? It was more than that—much more—but she didn’t have the strength to confront it head-on. To admit what she suspected was really going on here. Of course, she was attracted to the man—what woman wouldn’t be? But how many women would have run screaming from the way he’d treated her? And what did it say about her that not only
hadn’t
she run screaming, but she’d actually masturbated to the replays of the pain of her spanking, his growling voice, his implacable commands, those broad shoulders, the hard, almost cruel set of his lips.

She was in serious trouble here.

The rest of the day passed without event—even Cathie had seemed strangely friendly. Then six o’clock came and went, a rumbling of thunder outside as the rain got started again. Maybe the sound of the rain would let her sleep that night. Amity locked the front door and drew the blinds, unable to shake the feeling of almost… disappointment?

Let it go. There’s all kinds of wrong about what’s going on here. Just let it go.

As she sat down, clicking through to the schedule one more time, knowing she’d find nothing, she wondered why Cathie hadn’t left yet. The nurse was normally out on the dot at six, her punctuality—in both arriving and departing—almost obsessive.

Maybe she’d left early and Amity had just missed it.

Thank God for small favors.

The door to Exam opened.

Amity swiveled toward it, plastering on a smile. “I was wondering when…”

It was Dr. McKendrick.

“Come on back.” He nodded back down the hallway. “I’ve got Exam Two ready for you.”

“What? I don’t…” She lifted her chin, meeting his cool gaze. “I’ve got plans tonight. Kaitlyn’s probably waiting for me already,” she lied.

“Tough luck for her then.” He stepped into the lobby, letting the door close behind him. He was wearing a fitted dark blue button-down, and the fabric stretched across the muscles of his shoulders as he leaned an elbow on the lobby desk. His intent hazel eyes fixed upon her. “I wasn’t kidding when I told you you’re getting that exam. Full work-up. Now, I need you to walk back to Exam Two for me.”

“Doctor, please.” Her mouth had gone instantly dry. “Not tonight.”

He turned back to the door, pulling it open and moving into the hall, calling back over his shoulder, “If I have to walk you down, you won’t like how I do it. Now, Amity.”

Shit.

She took a deep breath, then again. She could do this. Pelvics weren’t the most pleasant activities, but he was right—damn him. It was just an exam, she’d had them before. Getting this over with was probably best. She knew he’d never relent, so at least if she did this, he’d finally shut up about it.

I wonder what he’d do to you if he heard you say that?

Her nipples tightened at the imagery that evoked in her mind. Oh, she had a pretty good idea all right. And her suddenly cringing, tingling ass did too.

She picked up her purse and walked down the hallway, wondering why it felt like the route to the gallows.

Most of the lights in the exam area had already been turned off, the quiet of it disconcerting somehow. She made her way down the line of exam rooms, and opened the door to Exam Two, her heart beating faster.

“Come in,” Dr. McKendrick said, a chart in his hand, his stethoscope dangling around his neck. He sat on a black roll-around stool, the lights above the gleaming stirrups bright, almost dazzling. She’d always found exam room lights way too bright, almost disorienting. Knowing they’d soon be focused on her pussy didn’t make them any more appealing either.

Amity closed the door, hoping against hope that this would be over with quickly.

“Guess I owe you a lunch,” Cathie’s voice said. Amity’s head whipped around to her right. Standing there in front of a chair that had two flat arms extending out to either side was the head nurse, a satisfied smirk on her face, her multi-colored scrubs almost garish in the bright light. The woman’s blue eyes held a mirth Amity knew boded ill for her. Very ill.