by Evans, Trent
What the hell was happening to her?
She shook her head, trying to clear it, then made to move from his knees. He held her fast though.
“You’re not going anywhere, girl.”
“I need to get up. Please, doctor.”
“Dane is okay now,” he said, still languidly stroking her burning bottom. “You’ll use ‘sir’ when you’re being disciplined though. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir—Dane.”
The sound of his name seemed to bring her most of the way out of the soft fog that had seemed to envelop her.
What the fuck had she done? She tried to stand again, and he pulled her right back down again, his strength implacable, the hold on her wrists tightening a moment.
“When you’re being punished, you don’t get up until I say you do. Another of your rules for you to remember.”
Damn him.
“I need to. Please.”
“Why, Amity? You don’t have anything I haven’t seen thousands of times before.”
Her blush flamed hot as he gently squeezed her bottom.
“It’s… I’m not exactly—used to this.”
“What are you talking about?” Another firmer squeeze of her buttock, a proprietary grasp that had her belly coiling traitorously. “I’m a doctor. Haven’t you been to the gynecologist before?”
“Well… yes.”
Her pause got his attention though, and inwardly she cringed.
She winced as he squeezed harder, his voice a warning rumble. “When’s the last time you went to the gynecologist? This year?”
“I think I was… eighteen?” It had to have been. It was between senior year and going off to college, she knew that.
His silence sent chills down her spine.
“I’m young, it’s not a big deal.” She twisted against his hold. “Can you please let me up?”
He clamped down on her wrists until she whined with the pain.
“What the fuck, Dane?”
“This is the second time I’ve had to warn you about language. I think we’ll address this next time.”
“Next time? No, wait…”
Oh, God. Over cursing?
Did that mean he’d really do this to her again? What the hell had she gotten herself into here?
“You’re twenty-four yours old, Amity. Are you telling me you haven’t seen the gynecologist in five years?” She felt a hand at her jaw, his fingers tapping her cheek.
Oh, shit.
She looked back at him, hoping her defiance moved him to another subject. “What? Are you planning on keeping me here all night?”
His hazel eyes narrowed. “Answer me.”
“No, okay? I haven’t seen the gynecologist in five years. It’s fine. I’m still young and—”
“It’s not fine, young lady.” He released her wrists, but his big hand at the small of her back kept her pinned to his thighs, the hard bulge of his erection still jutting against her hip. “We’re going to take care of that soon. You need a full pelvic and a lab work-up.”
“That’s not necessary—”
“I don’t want to hear anything other than ‘Yes, sir.’” He smacked her bottom and she yelped. “This is your health. You’re going to start taking care of yourself—and I’m going to make sure you do.”
She looked back at him. He didn’t mean…
“The schedule’s full this week, but next week, you’re coming in for an appointment.”
“With who?”
Please, God, no.
“With me, of course.”
“No. That’s nice of you, but I—”
“Forget it.” He grasped her by the hair, forcing her to look back at him, the roots of her hair burning. “I don’t trust you to go do it yourself, even if I did threaten to punish you. You’re too irresponsible—for now. So, I’m going to take care of that for you.”
His hand patted her bottom again.
“You can get up now.”
She instantly pushed herself to her feet, pushing her skirt down to cover her bottom, her fingers scrambling for her panties that had fallen down to her ankles during her punishment. Her face burned as she bent, yanking them up once more then smoothing her skirt down again.
“Amity, look at me.”
She straightened, trying to ignore the way the lace of her panties irritated her bottom, the skin so inflamed. She met his gaze, wanting to do anything but.
“You’re okay,” he said, his voice gentle, his eyes warm. “You’re okay with me. I want you to succeed, to be the person I know you can be.”
Amity didn’t want to say anything. His gentleness after her punishment confused her, sent her spinning off balance again. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up on the couch. Try to make sense of all she was feeling, what it all meant.
She nodded, not knowing what else to say, trying desperately not to cry again. “Okay… I’m sorry.”
Why are you apologizing?
“All’s forgiven, Amity.” He smiled at her then, and her belly flip-flopped again. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
Would he really see her Monday though? She knew she probably should give him her notice. Maybe she’d think it over this weekend first, decide what felt right. Yes, that was the best course of action. Maybe things would look clearer in the morning. In the morning she’d put this behind her, and move on with her life somewhere else…
You’re kidding yourself.
She knew exactly what she’d do, whether it felt wrong or not. He’d awoken something within her, even if she didn’t know yet what it was.
Gathering up her purse and walking to the door, she unlocked it with shaking fingers.
“Amity?”
She stopped, but she couldn’t look back at him, she just couldn’t. Not now.
A hint of that sternness crept back into his voice. “Be on time.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, her face hot yet again, and slipped out the door without another word.
Chapter Five
Thank God her spanking had happened on a Friday.
Amity sat a table in a crowded Starbucks, the din of the Saturday morning rush a comforting envelopment of white noise, as she leaned over her laptop writing in her journal. She’d taken to it shortly after college was over, but never understood why. She hadn’t done it in quite a while though, what with partying, Kaitlyn’s drama, and the endless hunt for the right kind of boy, the one who’d know how to unlock the mystery of Amity’s desires.
As if one exists.
She winced at another twinge from her bruised backside.
After her punishment, she’d fled the office, not having the courage to meet the gloating Cathie’s gaze. The nurse knew—she had to have known. Amity could just feel the cruel woman’s satisfaction at what Dr. McKendrick had meted out in the conference room.
“Fuck, my head is killing me,” Kaitlyn said, flopping down in a chair across from Amity, sliding a coffee across the tabletop toward her. “Why did you talk me into that?”
“Bitch, you dragged me to the club last night.”
“You coulda said no.” Kaitlyn sipped her coffee, wincing and putting a hand to her forehead.
It had seemed… useful. Drown out those voices, that confusion his spanking of her had stirred up. Getting blotto on a Friday night. Again.
Too bad it didn’t cool off your pussy.
That much was true. It hadn’t helped this morning either when Amity, woken up by Kaitlyn’s loud snoring from the living room, decided she needed to look at her ass. It was even sorer than she’d imagined, and her breath had hitched in her chest as she’d pulled her panties down and looked at her ass in the mirror. The marks had faded, but a bruise was beginning across the lowest curve of one cheek, not bad, but it would be darker by tomorrow.
She hadn’t been able to shake the sense of sick fascination, and an almost… pride.
Now, though, sitting on the hard wooden chairs, her fingers clacking out her thoughts on the keyboard,
she just wished for a pillow.
And a new head—one that didn’t throb incessantly.
“What happened at work? Did he fire you?”
Amity cringed inside at not telling Kaitlyn the whole story. She knew he’d threatened consequences if she were late again, but Amity had left out exactly what they were. No need to include that little tidbit of information—something she knew Kaitlyn was likely to either berate her for, or mercilessly rib her for. It was embarrassing enough as it was.
“No, just got a… talking to. Hopefully it’ll blow over.”
Kaitlyn mumbled something, wiping her hand across her mouth. “A ‘talking to’? Sounds yummy. He’s kinda hot—and not just because he’s a doctor.”
“Shut up. There was nothing yummy about it. It sucked.”
Telling Kaitlyn the spanking made her pussy wet was definitely a ‘taking it to the grave’ detail about last night’s ordeal. Nobody ever needed to know that.
Well, except for Dane. He knew. Yes, he knew very well.
Heat flared in her cheeks as she remembered again, the hard bulge at his crotch, pressing insistently at her hip. If anything, that evidence of his excitement had thrown her even more than the fact that she’d become aroused during the spanking.
What did it mean that his cock was hard while he was punishing her? This morning when she’d lain awake in her bed, staring up at the slowly spinning ceiling, she’d chalked it up to her hips rubbing against him while she struggled, pure physical stimulus. Now, though, when her mind was at least a little clearer—despite the agony of her hangover—she wondered. Was he a sadist? Did he actually get off on inflicting pain?
And why didn’t that possibility terrify her?
She knew she’d never look at his hands again the same way, that was for sure. Not after what they’d inflicted on her. He had smooth hands—what you’d expect from a doctor—but they were big hands too. And they’d felt positively gigantic as they’d crashed down on her poor, defenseless ass, seeming to cover her entire bottom at once.
Someone bumped into Amity’s chair as they walked by, jostling her just enough to get the room spinning again. Coffee wasn’t going to cut it. She closed her laptop, rubbing her eyes.
“I need some grease, Kate.”
Her friend gave her a wan smile. “I was thinking the same thing. Grindstone Café? I could go for some big greasy sausages, with a side of eggs. And a Crisco chaser.”
Amity pushed back from the table, the chair leg screeching on the wood floor as she stood. “Lead the way, vile temptress.”
* * *
It was the first cool morning in a long time, and as his feet pounded the rubberized surface of the high school track, he savored that refreshing crispness filling his lungs. Summer was finally coming to an end, autumn’s promise just around the corner.
There was more promise than just the changing of the seasons though.
“Are you gonna talk about it?” The supremely fit Cathie, jogging alongside him, didn’t even appear winded. Unbelievable.
“Talk about what?” He was just barely able to hold a conversation; his fitness, while good, was nowhere near that of the machine next to him.
“I could hear what was going on. Don’t play dumb with me.”
“You gonna turn me in?”
Cathie snorted, her blond ponytail swinging at her emphatic shake of her head. “You kidding? Long overdue, if you ask me.”
He wondered if there was something more, a deeper reason, for the animosity Cathie displayed toward Amity. Cathie liked girls, so it wasn’t a competition thing as far as he could see, and either way, their relationship was strictly platonic—aside from the fact he was her boss.
Still, the past few weeks had made him suspect something else was at work there.
“I thought you wanted her fired?”
“A good hard spanking works too.” She glanced at him. “Any more tannings in her future?”
“That’s up to her.”
Cathie grinned. “Then that’s a yes.”
In truth, he hadn’t thought that far. Mostly because he’d been so shocked with what he’d discovered while spanking her. The fact that she’d become aroused had almost made him stop right there. Not because it was wrong, but mainly because it spun up entirely new possibilities, completely unforeseen consequences to starting down this path with her. Yes, it had been almost pure instinct that had made him offer the crazy ultimatum. Part of him just knew though, that there was something else there.
If she wasn’t an actual submissive, then at least something about it fascinated her. He could see it in her body language, the way she deferred—both physically and verbally—to him, and not just when she was facing a spanking. The way she’d lower her eyes when he was giving her an instruction, the times he’d discovered her watching him as he walked back to Exam from the lobby, her guilty gaze sliding away, knowing she’d been caught.
Amity’s comparatively obedient manner—despite her mouthiness—when she’d been spanked was another thing entirely. As he’d spanked that big bottom of hers—the sight and feel of it even sweeter than he’d ever have imagined—he’d been amazed at her stoicism, at her willingness to obey, to endure. Because he’d told her to.
It was during her spanking that he’d reconsidered his earlier assessment. Her wet pussy, the fragrance filling his nostrils as he slapped her bottom, simply confirmed it.
Amity was definitely submissive.
The question now was—did she even know it? He’d encountered a few women in the past who seemed to have that instinct, but whether it was societal conditioning, or a deep-seated denial, they’d never chosen to pursue it or even acknowledge it. A true tragedy, in his opinion, but alas, he’d seen it more often than he cared to admit.
He hoped—if anything actually came of this—that Amity would be different.
Just what the fuck do you expect to come of this, Dane? She’s your goddamned employee.
“Earth to Dane.” Cathie shoved his shoulder, her stride not missing a beat. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Don’t make me pull rank, nurse.”
“Jesus. You weren’t listening, were you?”
That edge had crept into her voice, the same one he imagined the poor girls kneeling at her feet often heard.
He shrugged his shoulder. “Nope. Sorry.”
Cathie rolled her eyes. “What’s next? Do you think she’s…?”
He thought a moment. There wasn’t any reason not to tell her. Cathie was a domme through and through, and as a domme she’d still understand his thought processes, weighing the pros and cons. Chances and probabilities.
“Yeah, I think she is,” Dane said. “I’ve been wrong a time or two, but she shows all the signs. She’s either submissive or she definitely leans that way.”
“Why, though? What makes you think so? I’m guessing she didn’t come right out and say it.”
“She didn’t need to—her wet cunt told me more than any words could.”
He smiled, enjoying the normal verbal jousting with his nurse and friend.
Cathie groaned. “You fucking men. Maybe it’s just a reaction? You know, a horny young girl, or something?”
“Is that what you really think?”
Cathie’s silence said it for both of them. She agreed with his assessment.
She hadn’t given up yet though. “You sure it’s not just wishful thinking?”
“Give me a fucking break, Cathie. I’m not so hard up that I have to resort to trying to bang my subordinates.”
“All evidence to the contrary.” She glanced at him again, her eyes flashing. “Besides, most subordinates don’t have an ass like hers.”
He looked over at her. She gave him a rueful lift of her shoulder. “Just because I don’t like her doesn’t mean I wouldn’t mind putting her over my knee.”
Dane laughed, the cold air making him cough a little. “No, I can’t blame you there.”
“So if you don’t want to fuck h
er, why’d you make her that offer then? Not exactly straight out of the employee manual, you know.”
The huge arc-sodium nightlights began to flicker off overhead, the morning light increasing by the second as dawn neared.
“Because I do like her. And I want to see her succeed. She’s smart and compassionate. She’s better than she’s shown us so far.”
He remembered seeing how she comforted a teenaged girl who’d come in for an exam after throwing a positive on a home pregnancy test. After the exam, and Dane’s confirmation that the girl was indeed pregnant, he’d watched in silence as Amity consoled the sobbing girl. He didn’t know if it would have mattered—you never could tell with teenagers—but the relief in that scared girl’s eyes as Amity had laid out her options, as she’d told the girl no, the world was definitely not ending, had made him proud of his wayward admin. Underneath that rash, irresponsible kid exterior, there was a caring, kind woman.
He wanted to make sure that the real her finally came to the forefront—before it was too late. There was just something about her, though you’d never know it unless you looked very closely. When he did, it was as if she seemed… lost. It made him want to take her in hand even more.
Dane intended to do all he could to help her be who she was really meant to be—even if he never spanked her again.
Kidding yourself again, asshole.
And that was true too, wrong or not. He very much wished he could spank her again.
“How come you don’t like her, Cathie?”
He suspected he already knew, but his head nurse was always full of surprises.
She didn’t answer right away, but rather kept jogging, even picking up her pace a little, as if she needed to clear her mind.
“I’m not sure. She’s spoiled—and you know I don’t ever let my girls get spoiled.”
He knew. Dane recalled visiting Cathie’s for steaks over the Fourth of July weekend. Her then live-in sub, Leah, had cooked for the both of them. The fact that the girl had been completely naked had made her task considerably more difficult, the juices from the meat occasionally singeing her as she worked.
