Page 52 of Doctor's Demands
“Do you have an aversion to it?”
Shaking my head, I answer, “Yes. I’m a doctor. I help people. I don’t hurt them.”
“You shouldn’t look at it like that. Does a smack on the ass hurt you or ignite another sensation?” he asks as he goes to get something else out of the closet.
“It doesn’t hurt. Not that I’ve been swatted that often to know for certain. My parents shoved us back and forth so much, none of us ever got spankings.”
“When people have impact play, it’s nothing like being spanked as a child. It’s full of other feelings and emotions.” He comes back with a short whip in his hand, like the one people use on horses. “This quirt has a short whip on it. It leaves a slight stinging sensation. Do you mind if I pop your ass, Owen?”
With a smile, I turn around. “Go for it.” He pops me, and I barely feel a thing. “The thick robe is in the way.”
The grin Grant gets has me nearly laughing. “Bare a cheek, brother.”
“What the hell,” I say, as I pull the robe over a bit and nod to give Grant the go-ahead.
He pops me, and I flinch as it does sting, but it’s not awful. “Feel it now?”
“Yeah. It’s like a little bite, maybe from one of those biting flies. Not like a bee or a wasp.” I bend around to see if it left a mark and can’t see one. “Does this thing leave marks on lighter skin?”
“Sometimes. They go away pretty quickly. Nothing to worry about.” He puts the thing in my hand. “Give Queenie what she’s asking for.”
“On the ass?”
He nods and points at the small of the back. “Stay away from the bony areas. The small of the back, the spine, the back of the neck. And never hit anyone with anything along their torso in the front or the back. If you know there are soft organs underneath that skin, leave it alone. As a doctor, you probably knew that already.”
“You’d think so,” I say, as I look at the fake body in front of me. “But I honestly have never thought about doing this, so please leave nothing out, even though I am a doctor.” I touch the hips with the quirt. “Now, hips are cool, right? I mean, there’s nothing under them to get hurt.”
“They’re fair game. Keep in mind that there are bones not too far under the surface of skinny girls. You don’t want to hit so hard that you bruise a bone.”
“Grant, I’m not about to hit Petra hard. I just want to give her a good time, not leave marks or bruises of any kind.” Looking Grant in the eye, I feel like I have to ask, “What does anyone get out of hitting or being hit, anyway?”
With a grin, he says, “I’ll let you play out the scene you’re about to watch and see if you can figure that out, Owen. Watch and learn.”
Taking a seat, I wait for the show to start. Hopefully, it’ll teach me what Petra wants. A real-life BDSM experience.
Petra
“On your knees, sub!” Owen says with a stern tone as he comes to Grant’s bedroom door. I hit the floor, doing as I’m told.
My heart’s already racing as excitement flows through me. I’ve had the little experiences of impact play with Leticia, but I want to see how it feels with Owen, my Dom.
I found a black leather corset in the closet and put it on. I feel pretty damn badass and more than a bit dangerous. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Owen walking toward me. His feet are bare, and he has on loose-fitting black pajama pants.
He places his hand on my shoulder. “Rise, sub.”
I get up and see he has no shirt on. His muscles are shiny, as if he’s oiled them up, which makes heat pool between my thighs. A small mask covers his eyes. It makes him look a little mysterious. I want to reach out and caress his handsome face. The way his beard is growing in makes him look rugged. But I don’t dare touch him. Not without being told to.
His lips press together in a firm line as he looks me up and down, then trails one finger over the mound of flesh from my boobs that spills over the top of the tight corset. My eyes move from his, then go down, looking at his magnificent body. My heart skips a beat as I notice the small whip in his left hand.
Putting his hand on the small of my back, he guides me to where he wants me to go. I think we’re going to go to the room across the hallway, but I find him taking a left, and we go into the dark living room. The television comes on, and I see a dungeon-like room with red walls and one of those bondage beds in it.
The camera pans to the right, and there’s a woman, wearing a thin, white robe. You can see her body through it. Her hands are cuffed, and she’s strung up on a hook, facing the wall. A man in black clothes enters the room. His face is completely covered in a scary-looking mask of a red devil and he has on a cape. It flies back as he brings his black gloved hand up. A long whip is in it, and the woman screams for help.
He growls, and I shiver as I watch him move close to her. His body is pressed against hers. He places the whip on a table and picks up a knife. The long silver blade glistens in the dim light, and he uses it to cut open the back of the robe. He tosses each side of the robe up, over her shoulders, exposing her back. With one more growl near her ear, he steps back.
Picking up the whip, he brandishes it on either side of her, making it snap near her body. She screams each time, even though she isn’t being hit. Then he takes another step back, and the whip connects with her right shoulder, then the left one.
The difference in her screams is apparent. The red marks left on her creamy skin don’t lie. Off to the sides, he snaps the whip four more times, then he lands a strike on her left ass cheek. She flinches and shouts, “Fuck!”
