Amy's Strict Doctor

by Natasha Knight

  She just stared at him, unable to speak or to move, her heart beating loudly in her ears, blood pumping fast through her system.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” she managed.

  “I’m honestly disappointed in you, Amy,” he said as he pointed to the corner. “To the corner, nose touches the wall at all times, is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said in a whisper.

  Amy went to the corner, grateful at least that he could not see her face. She should just have done her work instead of going to the movies but when Cade had asked her if she was finished with her homework last night and had time to go, she’d answered that she had time. She’d not lied, she did have time. It was just that Robin’s hangover had put a chink in her plans.

  “Dr. Cade Hollister, please,” came the professor’s voice from behind her.

  She just turned to look over her shoulder when the professor made a motion with his hand that she should turn back around. A tear slid down her cheek and she faced the corner again.

  “Hello, Cade,” he began.

  Amy cringed. She would be spanked tonight, there was no doubt in her mind. She clenched her bottom in anticipation as the professor spoke, telling her husband about her predicament.

  Chapter Seven

  After getting the professor’s call, Cade felt momentarily guilty about Amy’s situation. He was the one who had suggested the movie last night after all, but he’d asked her if she had time, if she was finished with her work. He shook his head as he dialed her cell phone, knowing it would go to voice mail because at that very moment, she was standing in Professor Brown’s office with her nose to the wall and would be for the next little while.

  When her voice mail kicked in, he spoke: “Amy, you can imagine my surprise at receiving the professor’s call just now.” He inhaled and exhaled. “Once you’re time there is over, I expect you to go directly home and stand in the corner in the living room farthest from the front door. You know how I expect to find you. You’re in trouble with me tonight, girl, and I can guarantee you, you will not enjoy sitting down tomorrow.”

  He hung up and took another deep breath just as the nurse rang through on the intercom.

  “Your next appointment is ready for you, Dr. Hollister,” she said.

  Cade saw his final three patients, his mind still on his wife, and when he got home, he was glad to find a box waiting outside by the front door. He went to pick it up, looking inside from the window alongside the door to see his wife’s back, her bottom bared, as she stood just as he’d told her, naked but for her panties and facing the corner. He wondered if the delivery man had gotten an eyeful of her. He’d have to ask, once he was finished with her punishment, and the item he held in the long box would be a part of that punishment.

  * * *

  Amy had heard the truck outside and luckily glanced behind her to see that it was a delivery for them. She imagined Cade had ordered something and had had just enough time to duck behind a chair as he left the package after two unanswered rings. For the rest of the time, she had stood just as Cade had told her, nearly naked facing the corner with her nose in the wall. The time she’d spent doing much the same, although at least still dressed, at the professor’s office had gone slowly, the sound of the hands of the clock the only thing she could hear behind her as each minute ticked by. That and the sound of the professor turning the pages in his notebook.

  The door opened and she heard Cade come inside. She had heard the garage door go up so she knew he was home, but the sound of his footsteps on the hardwood floor, of his keys hitting the counter, then his bag, made her stomach sink. She knew he could see her from the kitchen and the fact that he didn’t speak to her while he opened whatever was inside the package the driver had left only added to her anticipation, and she found that as much as she was dreading the actual spanking that was to come, what she dreaded more was turning around and seeing as well as hearing her husband’s disappointment in her.

  But both breath and thought were suspended in the next instant when a sound cut through the air, a sound she’d not heard before.

  Whoosh!

  Amy gasped, startling at the noise.

  “Came just in time,” came Cade’s words followed by that whoosh once again, this time closer to her.

  It took all she had to not turn and look as she waited for his instruction.

  “Turn around, Amy.”

  She did, her eyes immediately on the thing he held, a long, thin cane with a braided leather handle. With a flick of his wrist, the thing moved through the air, flexible as it made that terrible sound once again.

  “I asked you last night before we went to the movies if you were finished with your work. Why did you lie to me?”

  “I didn’t lie…” she began, realizing she was splitting hairs.

  “I have zero patience,” he said slowly. “If you’d prefer to answer questions while bent over getting your ass caned, we can do that.” His voice was raised and she knew she was in dangerous territory. “Tell me why. One chance.”

  “I thought I could finish the few problems I had left at work but Robin wasn’t feeling well and left early and it was too busy. I’m sorry!”

  “You say that an awful lot, Amy,” he said. “I’m just not sure I believe you.”

  She lowered her gaze to her feet.

  “Where is the work you handed in?”

  “In my bag, sir.”

  “Go get it.”

  She went but her panties fell to the floor and she looked at him, confused, unsure what to do.

  “Leave them off. You won’t be needing or wanting them by the time we’re finished tonight.”

  Amy swallowed, stepped out of her panties, and walked toward her bag, picking up speed when she heard the whoosh of the cane somewhere behind her again.

  “Here, sir,” she said, holding out the pages, knowing when he saw the state they were in, that she was going to get it.

  Cade took the papers and set them down on the dining table, spreading them out. Amy waited, unsure what to do while he looked over the problems. After a few moments, he lay the cane down on the table and turned to her, rolling up his sleeves as he did.

  “You spent your tutoring time standing in the corner?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How long?”

  “Just over half an hour, sir.”

  “You’ll do that again here between punishments,” he said.

  Between?

  Once his sleeves were rolled up, he reached for the buckle of his belt and unbound it. “Do you need to use the bathroom before we get started?”

  She couldn’t drag her eyes from his belt, watching as he slipped it from the loops and doubled it over, holding the buckle in the palm of his hand.

  “Bathroom, Amy?”

  She glanced at him, unable to speak, confused. Bathroom. Right. “No. No, sir.”

  He nodded. “Bend over the table, reach your arms out wide, and grip the edges,” he said, pulling the chair out at the foot of the table where her papers and the cane also lay.

  She moved to it and slowly bent, knowing what was to come. Once she was down, she spread her arms out and gripped the edges of the table, having to lay her chest flat to it as the table was so wide. Cade in the meantime laid the sheets of paper in front of her face where she could easily see them.

  “I’m warming you up with the belt. You’ll be taking your final strokes with the cane once we’ve determined the number you deserve. Stay just as you are, do not move. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  She had barely finished saying the words when the first lash of the belt fell. Amy’s gasp filled the room and her hands gripped the table tight, her knuckles turning white as she did. Another stroke fell and she called out. He didn’t pause though, only struck again and then once more before he began to speak.

  “You should have told me last night that you needed time, Amy,” he said, striking twice as he did. “Your work with Professor Brown is top prior
ity right now. Hell, we would have sat here with a glass of wine doing your homework together instead of going to a movie!”

  The belt lashed her again, three times, all across the center of her bottom and she called out. She wasn’t sure what was worse, the paddle or this belt. Right now, she’d say the belt.

  “Ah! I’m sorry!”

  “And the state of your work.”

  She could almost see him shaking his head.

  “If a nurse ever turned in a sheet like that, she’d not have a job at the clinic for much longer. What happened to taking pride in your work?”

  “I’m sorry. I just… I was rushing,” she cried. It took all she had to remain as she was while he struck again and again. She glanced up at the cane that lay just before her nose. If this was a warm-up, she had no idea how she’d survive that.

  “How many did you not answer?” Cade asked from behind her.

  “What?” she asked.

  He struck.

  “How many did you not answer?”

  “Oh.” At least he paused while she looked. “Nine. Nine, sir.”

  “All right, you’ll take nine strokes of the cane then,” he said.

  Nine. She looked at it.

  “Five more with the belt, half an hour in the corner and then nine with the cane before you finish your work for tomorrow. Spread your legs wider for these, feet flat, toes turned in. Push your bottom out for the strokes.”

  “Yes, sir,” she managed, widening her stance, the short reprieve making the skin of her bottom hot and tight as it settled.

  “Good, arch your back. Now stay like that and keep your bottom soft. And you’ll take these last strokes in silence.”

  She nodded, gripping the table, her bottom lifted high, presented to him to be punished.

  Each of the next strokes fell and she somehow swallowed all sound as they did. She took her punishment, the stance of her legs making it possible for the belt to just lick her sex. Each time it did so, it sent a strange sensation, first of pain and then of something else, through her. When the five were over, she remained as she was, just turning to look over her shoulder to Cade while he wove the belt back through the loops of his pants.

  “Stand up,” Cade said, his tone cool.

  She stood slowly, the skin of her bottom feeling stretched and tight. She took the tissue he held out for her and wiped her face and when she dared to look up at him, the look in his eyes wasn’t accusing, wasn’t stern or angry. Instead, it was just sad.

  Which was worse than those other things.

  She would have said she was sorry but he didn’t want to hear that. He would punish her and she would take it, as awful as that punishment would be.

  “I’ll take whatever you give me,” she said before lowering her gaze to the floor. “I deserve it.”

  He touched her cheek, then cupped her chin and raised her face up so she looked at him. He didn’t speak and she knew it wasn’t over yet, she hadn’t yet been forgiven. With the pad of his thumb, he rubbed her cheek, her jaw, then moved that hand to the back of her head and pulled her into his chest. He only spoke a moment later to instruct her on what to do next.

  “Instead of the corner, I want you to kneel on the loveseat there.” It was a low back seat made for two. “Face the wall, knees wide, lean forward and push your bottom out. Hands on the back of the seat. You can lay your face down if you need to.”

  She nodded and moved, grateful not to have to stand in the corner for another half hour, although dreading the obscene sight she’d make positioned as he’d said. She climbed onto the loveseat and placed her knees as wide as her shoulders before leaning forward to lay her cheek against the soft fabric and arching her back. Once she was settled, she felt his hand at her back.

  “Nine strokes with the cane, Amy,” he said. “You’ve earned each one.”

  And with that, she felt the cool, smooth rattan as he spread her bottom cheeks apart and slid the cane between them.

  “Hold it,” he said, and she did, she squeezed her bottom cheeks around the cane and held it, knowing just what she looked like to him as he took a seat in his old, worn leather armchair just across from her and watched.

  * * *

  Cade sat on his favorite chair, his eyes not once leaving his wife as he settled in. He crossed one long leg over the other, leaning back, one hand coming to rub his chin while he contemplated her ass, the thick red stripes that marked it. He would think of this every time he put on this particular belt. He would see her, see his wife’s naked, punished bottom just like this, kneeling, bent, in a shaming display just for him and all done at his command. His cock had hardened when he’d taken the belt to her and her submission to him only seemed to make steel of it.

  Cade had to change his train of thought or he was going to get up to fuck his wife and the lesson he meant to teach would be lost on her.

  Professor Brown no longer took on students to tutor. Cade knew the only reason he took Amy on was as a favor to him, to his family, but no matter what he’d tried, nothing seemed to take and to push the professor to the point she had today demonstrated her casual disregard and only proved the fact that she did not take this seriously.

  He got up and went into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee, keeping an eye on her as he did. He then picked up the folded paper from the counter before resuming his seat on the chair, and for the next half hour, read the first line of the same article about a hundred times.

  “All right, Amy,” he said when her time was up, approaching her from behind. “It’s time for your caning.”

  He took the cane from between her cheeks and she rose slowly, keeping her gaze down as he helped her off the couch. “We’ll do this in the middle of the room,” he said, taking her directly to the center of the large, open-plan living room. “Bend all the way over and touch your toes, like you did for the paddle. Keep your legs together.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He watched her get into position and didn’t miss her quick glance at the cane as she did. Within a few moments, she stood bent before him awaiting her punishment.

  “Tell me why you’re getting the cane today, Amy.”

  She spoke quietly. “Because I lied about having done my work. Because I don’t take any pride in it and I wasted the professor’s time and our money.”

  Well, she did understand. He nodded even though she couldn’t see his face. “Let’s make sure that after today, we don’t have to do this again. Professor Brown is a family friend and he did me a favor by taking you on. I’m disappointed in you, Amy. Truly, I am this time.”

  At that, she sniffled and he knew she was crying. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked.

  “Let’s make sure you remember this one. Don’t move and count out the strokes. Thank me for each one.”

  She nodded and he took a step back and to the side. Gripping the handle of the cane, he lined it up against the center of her bottom, tapping there twice. She clenched when he did it, but as soon as she softened her muscles, he struck. It was just a flick of the wrist, he’d start slowly, but he knew even a soft stroke from the cane would deliver a message.

  The cane struck with a soft sound. When it did, he held it to her for a moment while she absorbed the impact. He imagined the pain came in degrees, her mind registering it only a few seconds after he had struck.

  Amy made a sound, a low moan, and he saw her wrap her hands around her ankles, holding on tight.

  “One, sir. Thank you.”

  He didn’t pause. Instead, as soon as she’d said the words, he brought it down again, laying the second stroke down just beneath the first where the soft line of impact was turning an angry red.

  “Ow. Oh… two, sir. Thank you.”

  The next he set higher than the first two and again held the cane at the point of impact as she bounced just a little, bending and straightening her knees.

  “Owwww.” She straightened a little and one hand went to reach behind her but she caught herself and resumed her hold
on her ankles. “Three, sir. Thank you.”

  Another strike, again higher. These would hurt. Well, they would all hurt.

  “Please…” she began, clenching her cheeks and having to catch herself now as she stumbled forward. “Four, sir, thank you,” she hurried.

  “Let’s adjust your position,” he said. It was obvious she needed to lean against something to take what she had coming. “Come here,” he said. “Bend over the back of the chair,” he instructed, taking one of their dining chairs and placing it in front of her with the back facing her. They were heavy, thickly cushioned chairs that would easily support her.

  Amy leaned over it, placing her hands on the armrests.

  “No, I want you bent deeper. Hands over the front legs.”

  She had to rise up on tiptoe to do it but that was what he wanted. He wanted her stretched and taut, all of her exposed to him.

  “Good girl. Here we go.”

  The fifth landed, this one lower and as her punishment continued, he struck harder, filling in the spaces between the stripes, wanting to stay off her thighs today. Amy was crying by the time they reached six but she wasn’t begging him to stop and he could see she was trying hard not to break position.

  “Three to go.” With that, he struck twice in quick succession, barely giving her enough time to call out the count.

  “Last one, Amy,” he said, taking aim over the very first stroke he had laid across her bottom.

  “Yes, sir,” she wept.

  Cade raised his arm and struck, calling a scream from her when he did.

  “I’m so sorry!” she called out. “I’m so sorry.”

  He set the cane down, lifting her in his arms, holding her for some time as she wept into his chest.

  “I’m sorry, Cade,” she said again, more quietly as her tears subsided. He held her, shushing her, caressing her hair away from her face.