The Doctor and the Naughty Girl (7 page)

“Come here, Amity.” He nodded toward the floor. “Right here, in front of me.”

Uh oh.

She complied, the heat of his gaze upon her making her avert her eyes. He was closer than she was comfortable with, his proximity causing butterflies in her belly. She hoped the thickness of her sweater hid her nipples. They were still hard, and she knew the flimsy lace of her bra would do nothing to hide their prominence.

“Eyes up, Amity,” he said, unhurried, but the command in his voice plain. “Stand up straight, shoulders back.”

She blushed as she obeyed, bringing her gaze up, looking just beyond his right shoulder, afraid to meet those eyes of his.

“Look at me. I don’t want to tell you again.”

Her gaze locked with his, and he nodded. “Good. Now, I spoke with Cathie about your little argument out there. What I told you stands—you obey her as you would me.” He took a breath, his fingers drumming on his forearm. “But I told her to lay off of you. She was out of line out there—and she apologized.”

Amity’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t think the cruel woman possibly had it in her. She smiled tentatively.

“I don’t know what you’re grinning about, Amity. Your behavior out there was atrocious.” He pushed himself off the table to pace back and forth in front of her, so close his arms nearly brushed the tips of her breasts as he passed by each time.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Amity willed her mouth not to go completely dry. “But she was being awful to me—”

“She was doing what was best for the clients.” He stopped and stared at her, not one foot away. “Which is what you were supposed to be doing.”

“I—”

“Not another word out of you, Amity, unless it’s ‘yes, sir.’”

She snapped her mouth shut, closing her eyes for a moment. He was pissed. Her bottom was already tingling, remembering the pain of their last meeting in this room. But there were patients in the exam area. He couldn’t possibly punish her without someone hearing. They’d
know.

“I want you to take down your pants and panties.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” He laid a finger across her lips, and she fought the insane urge to kiss it. “Not another
word
. Do I have to gag you?”

She gasped.

“I will if I need to. Don’t push your luck with me. Your ass is already in enough of a sling as it is. Don’t make it worse.” His eyes glittered. “But I need that mouth for something else instead.”

Oh, my God. Here?

Her eyes, as if they possessed minds of their own, dropped to his crotch. The bulge there was huge. He was hard! She swallowed, not sure if she wanted to be wrong about what he meant.

He chuckled, genuine amusement in his voice. “No, not for that, bad girl. Eyes up now.”

She obeyed, her face flaming hot.

His expression sobered, a muscle in his jaw bunching. “Now, I promised you’d be punished if you continued with your language. And you made it worse by cursing at both Cathie and me. Do you think that’s acceptable behavior?”

“No, sir.”

“And do you know what will happen
every
single time I catch you cursing?”

“I’ll be punished.”

He smiled at her, a flash of bright teeth devoid of any warmth. “That’s right! And that’s what we’re going to take care of right now. But first—” he glanced down, “—you need to follow directions.”

Amity bit off a little whimper.

“Yes, sir.”

Why was he making her… take down her pants, if he wasn’t going to spank her? The prospect of the people in the office hearing him spanking her, her inevitable cries and pleading, made her want to curl up into a fetal position. He couldn’t possibly mean to do that—he’d be risking his own job too.

“If I have to tell you again, we’ll add to what you’ve already got coming to you.”

Her fingers drew down the zipper, and she pushed down her pants and panties in one swift motion, crouching for a moment, dreading what came next.

“Stand up. Now.”

“Please… “

“Do it, Amity.”

She thought her face might actually spontaneously combust as she straightened, her hands crossed in front of her sex. The air currents in the room were cold across a pussy that felt entirely too wet.

Oh, God, not again.

“Good.” He caught her gaze once more, his eyes dark, intent. “Now put those hands behind your head. Lace your fingers together.”

“No…”

He reached around and smacked her bottom, hard, almost knocking her off balance in her heels. “Do it, Amity. Obey me.”

The pain flared bright from the hand print she knew now decorated her ass cheek. A tear escaped, running down her burning cheek as she finally complied with his order, tightening her fingers together at the back of her head. Amity kept her gaze down. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eye now.

“Good girl.” He walked around her slowly, once, twice, not saying a word, the heat of his gaze upon her exposed sex, her vulnerable bare bottom.

He stopped in front of her, leaning close, his warm breath on her cheek. For a moment she thought he might kiss her, and she lifted her mouth toward him. But he didn’t, instead whispering in her ear.

“Stay where you are. I’ll be right back.”

Then he slipped around her, the door behind her opening, then closing.

Please, God, tell me nobody was looking through that door.

What was he up to? She’d changed her mind, yes, she’d definitely rethought things. She’d gladly take a spanking over the unknown, the horrible scenarios her too-creative mind came up with for what Dr. McKendrick had planned for her.

Don’t you mean sir?

Thinking of him in that regard was no longer as alien as it had seemed two weeks ago. It did, well, sort of
fit
. Obeying him, that is. It wasn’t just fear that had her wanting to obey him though. It would’ve been far easier, far simpler if it had only been fear.

But Amity knew that that something else was the same reason why her pussy was soaking wet right now as she stood, at attention, her pants and panties pooled at her feet, her pussy and ass entirely bare. Somehow the embarrassment was worse, partially clothed as she was, as if it was a reminder of the dignity he’d stripped away, the status he’d reduced her to.

The door opened behind her, and her breath caught. He stepped in front of her, holding up something white.

Oh. My. God.

It was a bar of soap.

“Now, if you can’t learn to control that smart mouth of yours, I’ll do it for you. Stick your tongue out.”

“No!”

There was no way she was agreeing to this. She was twenty-four years old, for Christ’s sake!

How come your pussy is practically dripping, Amity?

“
Either you stick that tongue out, or I go get the wooden paddle I keep in my desk and paddle your ass right here, right now.”

“You won’t—they’ll hear.”

Panic began to well up within her, even as her nipples throbbed in time with her swollen, wet sex.

He stepped very close, his voice a stern murmur. “Try me, Amity.”

She locked gazes with him, then glanced at the soap. “Please don’t… “

His eyes warmed for just an instant. “Let’s get this over with. It won’t take long.”

Her vision began to blur as the tears welled. She extended her tongue.

“More. There, good.”

His fingers clamped down on the tip of her tongue, catching it fast, and she tasted the salt of his skin.

He made quick work of it, scrubbing the bar once, twice, a third time over the broadest part of her tongue. He ended by twisting it against the tip of her tongue he held clamped between his fingertips. The taste was absolutely revolting, her gag reflex causing her to try to retract her tongue. But he held it fast.

“Breathe, girl. It’ll pass.”

Thankfully, it did, though more shaming tears cascaded down her cheeks as she tried to adjust to the taste of the soap. He set the bar on the table, turning back to her, his arms clasped across his chest again.

“Now, if I have to do this again, I’m going to make you clamp that bar between your teeth after I scrub that tongue. Got it?”

“Yesshir.” She didn’t want to retract her tongue now, fearing it would coat the inside of her mouth with the awful taste.

“I owe you a caning today, but we both know I can’t give that to you here. So, we’re going to postpone that for now.”

Thank God!

“Instead, we’re going to have you take that naked little ass and stand over there in that corner.”

“What?”

This could not be happening. First, she got her mouth soaped like a little girl, then she was being sent… to the
corner
? What the hell was going on here?

And why was she obeying him?

“Normally, I don’t assign corner time until the girl’s taken her punishment, but since there are, um, extenuating circumstances… I’ll make an exception.”

She looked from him to the corner his finger pointed toward. It was opposite the door, so anyone who might happen in would be confronted with a grown woman standing half naked in the corner. The only thing more upsetting than that prospect was the fact that she was still aroused.

You mean even more aroused, right, Amity?

* * *

It was time to up the ante.

“I don’t normally do this, but since this is your first time, I’m going to give you a choice.”

Amity’s eyes widened, her soft, pink lips forming into a fetching O.

“You can go to your corner now, and get this over with.” He pointed to the door. “Or you can go to the bathroom and wash off your tongue, then come back in here for your corner time.”

Color flamed high in her cheeks, her eyes darting to the door and then back to him. He found himself wondering what those soft lips would feel like against his, what she’d taste like.

Not the time, Dane.

Amity nodded toward the door, her tongue still poked out, the sheen of soap still visible.

“Go ahead then.”

She dropped her arms and bent to pull her pants back up, her blush deepening as she zipped her slacks.

He wasn’t sure why she bothered taking the time to setting herself to rights so fastidiously—she was going to be right back in here with her pants around her ankles again—but he let her do it anyway.

Dane was tempted to follow her to the bathroom, but nixed the idea. She knew the arrangement, and she knew if she bolted, this whole thing was over—and she’d be resigning. It was ultimately up to her. Besides, he had a suspicion this was no longer just about the job for her. The scent of her wet pussy stated in no uncertain terms that there was a lot more going on here than met the eye.

Your hard cock probably says the same thing.

Dane sat down, relieving the stress at his zipper—he’d been hard as a rock since before she’d even entered the room. At first, this whole endeavor had been essentially a behavior modification technique. An exercise in discipline, to hopefully get her to shape up.

Now… it was something more.

He genuinely
liked
Amity. She was cheerful and sweet, yet had the sass and spirit that were equal parts charming and frustrating. The clients loved her (though perhaps Mrs. Jamison wasn’t a fan of hers right about now). She was smart, and a fast learner—she already knew more about their scheduling system, spreadsheets, and client database than he ever would—and she had the potential to be anything she wanted to be.

The problem was that her life’s ambition, at least right now, seemed to be in purposely
wasting
her potential. He wasn’t going to let her get away with it, not as long as she worked for him anyway.

But his arousal—and hers—complicated things, clouded his perspective. Yes, she was beautiful. He’d stopped trying to avoid noticing her gorgeous eyes, the deep color of her hair, the sway of her hips in those fuck-me heels she insisted on wearing to the office. Yes, her submissive vibes—and they were definitely submissive—called to him, goaded him. There was no doubt about that.

At the same time, all of it called his own judgment into question. Was it really smart for him to potentially open that door, to see what she might want? To see how far she might be taken? Maybe if she were just some girl, it might. Unfortunately, Amity wasn’t just some girl.

She was Chuck Derrington’s daughter.

Dane drummed his fingers on the tabletop, beginning to wonder if he’d miscalculated. It had been long enough for her to have washed her tongue. More than long enough.

He was about to go after her when the door opened slowly, Amity reluctantly walking in. She closed the door, her back to him, pausing a moment to square her shoulders and take a deep breath. Then she faced him, those brown eyes bright, earnest. He saw false hope in them.

“We… we don’t have to do this. That soap was bad enough. I won’t
ever
curse in front of you again, okay? I’m really sorry. I mean it.”

Her face shone, the makeup freshly washed from it. He liked her better without it.

“Yes, we
do
have to do this. You need to learn your lesson—and you haven’t yet.” He stood, crossing his arms over his chest, loving the way she paled as she looked up at him. “Because if you
had
learned your lesson, you’d have kept your mouth shut, and you’d already be in that corner as I’d instructed.”

“Please, sir…”

My, how he loved to hear her say it.

“Corner, Amity.” He extended an arm toward it, pointing. “The sooner you do it, the sooner we get this over with.”

She dropped her gaze to the floor, then moved to the corner.

He strode over to her, placing a palm between her shoulder blades, her muscles tensing under his touch.

“Closer. I want that nose right in.” He tapped her arm. “Hands clasped behind your back. Come on, do it.”

Her delicate hands came around to the small of her back, the fingers clenched white as they squeezed together.

He sometimes made the miscreant in corner time clasp them behind her head, but he saved that for more serious offenses, as the position could be quite uncomfortable after only a few minutes. He’d start slow with Amity.