Corrective Treatment (8 page)

“You don’t need to like me,” he said gently. “You need to realize what is really at stake here. Your life.”

“So you think I should go to the authority and recant, and make sorry statements? You think I should stay the pawn I was born as?” Her eyes flashed anger at him. “No, doctor. You can torture me if you like, but I will not be their tool again. They have used me all my life, and I will not be used anymore.”

“Sophie,” Richard sighed. “What is it going to take to get through to you?”

* * *

The doctor was looking at her as though she had two heads, but he did not understand just how desperate Sophie’s life had become, alone in her father’s house. He did not know how lonely her life was, even though people watched her every motion, copied her every hairstyle and fashion choice. She was utterly, terribly alone, and she would not go back to that way of life for anyone or anything. In twenty-four hours with the doctor, she had been treated more like a person than she had for the near two decades of her life.

All Sophie had was her defiance. Her bottom was sore and her face was laced with tears, but she knew she was not sorry for what she had done. She had done so little. Going out and socializing was not a sin, and if people were protesting because she had been imprisoned, so what? Maybe the judges should have thought about that before they picked on her.

Sophie rubbed her bottom to try to get some of the sting out of it. It felt swollen, the skin tight across her heated cheeks. She could barely believe how little time and effort it had taken for the doctor to make her body throb.

“You are of marriageable age,” the doctor said, the question rising suddenly and inexplicably. “Why have you not been matched?”

“My father does not wish me to marry,” Sophie sniffed as the doctor sat back down in the chair and pulled her back down into his lap, settling her atop his thighs rather than over them. Her stinging bottom ached against the hard plane of his muscular lap, making her squirm as she finished answering him. “Not until he finds a suitable match, and there are none on this colony.”

“Hm.”

“What?”

“Well,” the doctor said. “It would be ironic if the colony were to fall to revolution because of the unmet desires of one little princess.”

“That’s not what’s happening here,” she scowled.

“Are you sure? Deprived of male company, you seek out the lower echelons, where there are many men. But you do not take a mate there either… why?”

“Because they look at me like I am… some otherworldly creature. They’re afraid of me,” she snapped, frustrated. “I don’t want to make love with someone who… thinks I’m Sophie Eins.”

“You want to be seen for who you are,” the doctor said, his eyes meeting hers with a knowing that made bolts of excitement flash through her belly. He placed his hand on her bare thigh. “You want to be treated as a spirited young woman needs to be treated.”

Suddenly, fresh tears were filling Sophie’s eyes. The doctor seemed to understand. This total stranger, who was tasked with tormenting her, who had spanked her bottom until she cried, knew what her clumsy words were only barely hinting at.

She felt a wave of grief passing over her, a sadness that could not be contained.

“Why the tears, Sophie?”

Too upset to form another word, Sophie pressed her face to the doctor’s chest and cried with a deep sorrow that had never been unleashed before. It felt as though every little bit of sadness she had ever locked away was being set free in a cascade of tears that wet his shirt.

The doctor made calming sounds and rubbed her back and bottom, doing his best to soothe what felt like a completely unsoothable pain. She cried for what felt like forever, but eventually the tears stopped and Sophie started to feel a little better. She became aware of the fact that she was more or less draped over the doctor, her bare bottom exposed under the raised hem of her skirt as his large palm ranged up and down the length of her back.

“Sorry,” she said, feeling a rush of embarrassment. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You don’t care about this.”

“I do care,” he said in a tone that made her believe him. “I’m not doing this to torment you. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

That was not how she saw it at all. He was a tool of the justice system, a means to an end. But maybe he did care too. Maybe he even cared for her specifically—though that seemed like a stretch. This doctor was probably used to people sobbing. His punishments were designed to elicit visceral reactions, intense responses. He probably did this a dozen times a day.

“You don’t care,” she sniffed again.

The doctor’s fingers slid underneath her chin and tilted her head up toward his face. “I care, Sophie,” he repeated in a deep baritone that seemed to sink into her very soul. She found herself believing him in spite of herself.

“I don’t even know your name,” Sophie pointed out. “How can you care about someone who doesn’t even know who you are?”

“Richard,” he said. “My name is Richard. And it’s not your job to know me. It’s your job to find a way to exist in the world without finding yourself in pain. Corrective treatment is many things, Sophie. It’s not just punishment. It’s a therapeutic treatment, which, if successful, won’t simply beat you into submission…”

“…no, it will warp my brain into thinking life is fine the way it is and stop me from causing trouble,” Sophie said, suddenly understanding why he was being so nice to her. It was all just another way of trying to get her to comply.

She pushed off his lap and pulled her dress down over her bottom, blinking the remnants of tears away. “It’s not going to work on me, doc.”

To her surprise, he smiled at her. “I’m not surprised that’s what you think,” he said. “You’ve lived a life curiously without discipline, but with social pressure in its stead. You don’t know what to make of it when I spank your bottom and tell you that there are rules to follow, and you don’t know that when I tell you I care, it’s simply because I care. It seems like another way to control you.”

“Yes,” she said. “Well, no. Stop trying to understand me!” She stamped her foot in frustration. The man was maddening. Nothing she did seemed to surprise him. Whether she was rude, or playful, or crying, or angry, he took it all in stride.

Sophie had spent a lifetime being examined, but never really being known. People knew what she had worn to her fifth birthday party, but they didn’t know a thing about what she thought, or what she cared about, or who the girl inside the dresses really was. The doctor was different. He’d already been more intimate with her than any man before, and now he seemed determined to understand her mind as well as her body. Even stranger than his desire to know her was the fact that he seemed to be making some headway.

She began to feel quite shy, standing there with her cheeks still throbbing from the hard application of his paddle.

“I want to go back to my room now.”

“You’d rather be in a cell than with me?” He chuckled. “I think we’re making some progress.” He crooked his finger at her again. “Come here, Sophie.”

“No!”

He leaned forward, wrapped his hand around her wrist, and pulled her back over his lap. He had an easy way of performing that motion that made Sophie almost feel as though she were flying until she landed over his lap.

“No!” She repeated the word, not that it did anything for her. The doctor, Richard, wrapped his arm around her waist and held her snugly against his body. She could feel the hard line of his abdominal plane against her hip, and most tellingly of all, a curious hard ridge pressing against her soft curves.

He pushed the hem of her dress up over her hip and palmed her warm bottom. “Things are different here,” he said. “Here, there are rules, and there is discipline. But there is also care. For who you are, not who you’re supposed to be.”

“Tell the authority that,” Sophie snarled. “They want me back out there tomorrow, contrite and compliant.”

“Don’t worry about the authority,” Richard drawled. “Worry about me.” He swatted her bottom lightly. “I’m the one who decides your fate.”

“You’re their puppet,” she shot back. “You don’t have any more choice in this matter than I do. They pull your strings and you dance.”

Richard let out a dark chuckle. “Is that what you think, Sophie?” His fingertips drifted lightly over her hot bottom in a touch that was both soothing and exciting. “Do you think those judges who sentenced you yesterday would want me to hold you while you cry and comfort you?”

“If they thought it would make me do what they want, maybe,” she said. “They don’t care how they get their way.”

“They want you punished harshly,” he said. “They want you broken as quickly as possible. You know that. And you know that I have shown you a great deal of patience and latitude. Don’t you.”

He slapped her bottom lightly to prompt a response, which she would not give. He expected her to be grateful for what he was putting her through. Even as she laid over his lap with her bottom bare and still bright red from the application of his paddle, even as he made his claim completely clear by palming those same bare cheeks. He expected her to thank him for that.

“Go to hell,” Sophie said over her shoulder.

Richard chuckled and laid another one of those light, affectionate slaps on her bottom. “You need to watch your attitude. It’s going to cause you pain one way or another.”

“You cause me pain one way or another,” Sophie muttered. The position left her head dangling toward the floor, blood rushing to it as she squirmed over his lap. She did not trust this doctor. No matter how nice he seemed, he worked for the authority. She had heard the president himself barking orders at him.

The slaps started to fall again, not as hard as the paddle had, but they didn’t need to be that hard. Her bottom was already tender and she was emotionally primed to feel every slap that landed on her naughty cheeks. Sophie had never felt so small or so completely contained before. Though she tried desperately to remember that she was really a prisoner of political conscience, the doctor made her feel as though she were really his. A personal captive who was having her bottom spanked because she deserved it.

In less than an hour, Richard had shown more understanding of her than anyone had in her entire life. And now he was reinforcing it with discipline that was just hard enough to make her blood flow to her loins. He had not touched her there this time. He almost seemed to be avoiding doing so. Perhaps to tease her. Perhaps to show her that it was not a matter of her desire. She didn’t know. All she did know was that within a few slaps, her hips were wriggling and her clit was tingling and her thighs were starting to part of their own accord.

“You want to come, don’t you, Sophie.”

“No,” she lied.

“Yes, you do,” he said. “I can see your lips swelling. I can see the moisture starting to trickle between your lips. You’re an active, passionate woman who needs someone to unleash your desire. Until you have that, you’re going to keep finding trouble.”

It was like the bailiffs had so crudely said. She needed a good fucking. But the doctor was not fucking her; he was teasing her with his words while he spanked her bottom. Sophie had not known that it was possible to orgasm simply from being spanked, but she found herself close as the doctor’s palm fell harder and faster, pushing her against his lap. She was being spanked like a naughty girl and her body was living for it, her inner walls contracting against some invisible manhood. She would have taken any penetration in that moment—a finger, a probe, the doctor’s own hard cock—but nothing entered her yearning pussy. She was left to grind herself to orgasm over the doctor’s thighs, humping him like a little bitch in heat as she stole pleasure from punishment.

“Oh… oh, my… oh…” she moaned as the illicit climax began to build.

“Come, Sophie,” the doctor urged, spanking her with hard, sharp swats that would have been impossible to bear if not for the fact that her whole body was taut with need. The arousal absorbed the pain, turned it into fuel for her inner fire, for the climax that was making her pussy quiver and her muscles shudder and finally left her panting and wailing over his lap in a wanton display of parted thighs and grinding hips.

He cupped her pussy as her orgasm faded, patting it affectionately. “Okay, Sophie,” he said, smoothing his hand over her hot bottom and pussy and back again. “Time for you to go to your room and think about how things are going to be. Do you want to resist this treatment and be a prisoner here for a very long time? Or are you going to be receptive to what I have to teach you?”

He helped her to stand and she avoided his gaze, feeling his eyes on her flushed face as her bottom tingled and throbbed. The little cell did not seem like such a bad place now. At least it would be private enough to give her a second to compose herself. Her mind felt addled by the doctor’s presence. Her clit was still throbbing, and though she had come, she was not entirely satisfied. How could she be when her pussy remained unfilled?

Unaware, or perhaps indifferent to her ongoing desire, the doctor reached out and pressed a button on the intercoms. “Nurse, escort Miss Eins to her cell.”

The nurse appeared so quickly Sophie suspected the woman had been lurking outside the door the whole time. She left the doctor and followed the nurse back to her cell. Nothing was said. The nurse was cool and professional, much like the doctor had been before he started putting things deep inside her. Sophie watched as the woman opened her cell and stepped inside it without any argument.

Alone, Sophie walked around the little room, rubbing her bottom and trying to clear her head. Her body was in turmoil, excitement rushing through her veins like fire. She was aroused beyond belief. The doctor’s ministrations had left her hungry for his touch, but essentially unsatisfied.

She lay down on the bed, feeling the pressure against her paddled and spanked bottom as not entirely unpleasant. Her fingers drifted down the simple dress to find her thighs and raise the hem, and touch, tentatively, the very outside of her lower lips…