Subculture (25 page)

‘Bastard,' Lisa muttered again. Her pupils were vast and lustrous, her lips open. Her cheeks were stained the gentlest of pinks.

‘Go to my bedroom now and lie on the bed.' Michael ordered. ‘Count to fifty then take down these pretty little shorts.' He hesitated, wanting to make his instructions exact. ‘Next, put them under the pillow. Then pull your panties all the way down.' He watched as she stumbled on ahead. ‘If you fail to obey me to the letter,' he called after her softly, ‘I'll have to whip you for at least an hour.'

 

He'd have to whip her for at least an hour. Shamed heat rushed to Lisa's groin as she hurried into the Clinic. She skirted around Reception, then swayed at the foot of the stairway, legs languid with desire.

‘Thought Dr Landers came back with you?' Dania queried, walking up behind her.

‘Oh, you startled me,' Lisa tried to find her brain, her voice, the muscles which would make her smile work. ‘Yes, he did.' The younger girl seemed to be waiting for more detail. Lisa forced herself to continue, ‘But he's gone to give the horse's drinking bowl back to Bakar.'

She brushed at an imaginary speck of dust on her shorts then tried to meet the younger girl's gaze. Had Dania seen Michael carrying Lisa? Had she watched him brandishing the whip? The herbalist didn't want to undergo the public humiliation that the others had undergone, the staff-watched chastenings. She wanted everyone to think that Michael was just her egalitarian boss and platonic friend.

‘Give the horse a drink? You were riding?' Dania murmured, quirking one strongly-pencilled brow.

‘No, we hailed one of those horses and carts. It brought us back here.' Lisa turned again to the stairs, anxious to climb them and escape from the Accountant's probing gaze. ‘See you later,' she muttered to the younger girl as she made her ascent.

‘Yeah, see you at dinner,' Dania replied. ‘It'll probably be the last time we'll meet, cause the accounts are in order.'

Would she, Lisa, have the hottest bum in the world by then? ‘Right. Good.' Lisa couldn't think straight. She reviewed her words as she stumbled up the stairs. ‘I mean, great that you're finished the work - for you, I mean. But sorry that you have to go.' She grimaced as the sentences tumbled from her mouth. She sounded as if her system was winding down through a sugar low. In truth, she'd enjoyed fresh air, sun and coffee, had been fed. But nothing could prepare a girl's body and mind for the thought of a thrashing, far less the approaching reality.

Slowly she walked along the corridor to Michael's room. There was no rush. He was obviously going to keep her waiting for a while, as he'd told her to count to fifty. The bastard obviously wanted to let her trepidation build. But bastard though he was, he made her pubis throb with heat and longing. He could make her submissive side build. It had been many weeks since she'd been fully satisfied by a man - sex with Don Muscat had been enjoyable but not overwhelmingly orgasmic. Now her flesh ached to be kissed and stroked and held.

But whipped? Lisa tried to envisage the chastisement as she reached the doctor's bedroom door. She turned the handle, then walked into the ample space and stared around it. Like her, he had an ensuite bathroom with a separate shower. The herbalist paced the pine-scented rectangular room, noting that most of the woodwork was ebony. The embossed white wallpaper contrasted dynamically with the matt black shelves. A dozen or more martinets and canes were displayed along the wall by the window. She tried to avoid looking at them and at the bed.

Were there mementoes from other women here? Proof of a former wife? She turned curiously to the writing bureau and chest of drawers, looking for telltale letters and love notes. Wished that she had the courage to go through his cabinets, but knew that she didn't have the time. In a moment he'd be here to... she couldn't bring herself to finish the inner sentence. Sat down on the footstool, then moved to the armless stuffed chair. Would he bend her over either of them before stripping her soft extremities? She felt the first trickle of lust make its leisurely way down her leg.

Damn the man - she mustn't let him see that she was aroused. Lisa wiped the genital juice from her thigh, then reached for a cucumber clean-up tissue. As she pulled a damp square from the box, Michael walked in and looked pointedly at the unoccupied bed cover. Then he looked at her.

‘I expected to see a bum on this bed. A bare bum. Instead I find it fully clothed and sitting on a chair.'

Shame and lust spread through Lisa's groin, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. ‘Sorry to disappoint you,' she murmured with forced lightness.

‘Oh, you won't disappoint me when your naked cheeks are squirming under my palm,' the doctor said.

The herbalist pulled her lips into a challenging smirk. ‘You wish,' she muttered, fingering the plush chair she was seated in. She shrank back into its depths as Michael strode towards her. She'd make the conceited pig fight for what he desired.

‘Sweetheart,' he said, his eyes full of passion and certainty, ‘I wish that you were across my lap with your pants at your ankles. And I always make my wishes come true.'

Lisa put her hands behind her back, so that he could find no purchase on either of them.

‘Stalling just earns you much more stringent discipline,' the man reminded with a knowing grin.

‘Guess I could apologise for being rude in the cart,' she muttered in a low voice.

‘You can apologise once you've got the most tenderised bum in the universe,' Michael Landers said. He put his hands under her armpits, and lifted her to her feet. Lisa felt too awash with lust and anticipation to stop him. She hoped he'd only punish her posterior lightly before turning his attention to her clit. ‘You have to accept a sore rump before you enjoy a satisfied sex,' the doctor continued, as if sensing her jumbled thoughts.

‘Alright,' Lisa muttered, as he marched her to the ebony-dark four poster. ‘Just get it over with.'

Michael set her down on the duvet, and she stared up at him. He shook his head. ‘I'll have to take my time. The situation demands it. You've been so very, very bad.' Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out the riding crop and set it on the pillow above her. ‘Roll over on your tummy, darling. As I remind you of your misdeeds I want you to look at the whip.'

‘Bet you can't make me,' Lisa whispered, trying to push her lightly-clad body deeper into the bed so that it became immovable. She knew that he could turn her over if he really tried. Nevertheless, she was surprised at the speed with which he flipped her onto her T-shirt clad belly, so that her clothed bum was beneath his firm hands. She tried to swat an arm back just to show that she wasn't daunted, but he took both of her wrists and held them in front of her heaving breasts.

‘Let's fasten these naughty hands together,' he said conversationally, removing his tie. He took his time wrapping the material round and round her wrists till they were held together in front of her. Lisa wriggled on her tummy as she stared at the bondage, feeling her mons pulse and swell.

‘Scared that I'll play with my clit? Don't flatter yourself,' she taunted, as she pulled her tethered hands away from him.

‘No, I've bound them so that they can't protect your arse once I start to spank it,' the doctor replied.

‘Thought you were going to whip me?' Lisa shot back without thinking, then damned herself to hell for such an inflammatory remark.

‘Ah, so you want the whip,' Michael said. He moved it closer to her face. ‘Look at it, Lisa. Can you imagine how it'll feel on your helpless bottom? Can you envisage how you'll beg?'

‘I'll never beg,' Lisa lied. The flesh around her clitoris surged and tingled. She'd plead for a climax if he started to tease...

But for now he seemed interested in her buttocks rather than her bud. ‘Time we removed those protective little shorts,' he murmured, sitting on the section of the bed nearest her waist.

‘Who's we?' Lisa jeered, not looking at him. ‘Got a hidden little friend, have you? That's probably the only kind you can get.' She vaguely remembered making similar jibes before, when he'd spanked her in his surgery. But a girl had to say something to show that she wasn't a pushover, even if her words weren't exactly unique.

‘This is my friend,' the doctor answered, reaching for the whip, and Lisa could sense that he was brandishing it over her posterior. He brought it down twice in quick succession, and she tensed. Then she relaxed. The whip hardly stung at all.

‘Let's try it with your shorts down,' Michael Landers continued conversationally. The herbalist shivered as he pulled off the jade green cotton, discarding her sandals at the same time. ‘Those panties won't save your backside much, my dear,' he said. ‘They'll hardly get in the way as I spank.'

Lisa twisted her head back. Drat, she'd put on the white cotton thong. It was basically a scrap of material over her crotch and round her waist, with a string which fitted snugly between her buttocks. She'd worn it in case they ended up in bed together, for it was the sexiest garment she had. The bra she was wearing was similarly scanty, just two glossy half cups of underwired white silk.

Michael raised the whip and she felt it strike her waiting bum again. The whip line tingled. Then her mons tingled as he started to divest it of her pants.

‘I don't like any garment coming between your bottom and my palm,' he said softly. ‘So we'll just pull these out of the way.'

‘You can try,' Lisa muttered, grinding her belly into the duvet to make things difficult for him. But when she felt his strong sure fingers brushing her labia, she bucked and wailed.

‘Good girl.' He used her sex-charged movement to his full advantage, pulling the crotch thong away from her groin, then edging the tiny pants over her creamy bum and bare extremities. A creamy bum with two light whip marks, Lisa reminded herself. She looked back and felt curiously disappointed to see that the whip hadn't left its scarlet imprint. She'd felt it a little bit so had assumed...

‘As I probably said, this whip's mainly for show,' Michael murmured as if reading her thoughts. ‘I may introduce you to one of my thicker riding crops at a later date.'

‘Not if I throw your bloody whips on the bonfire first,' Lisa retorted then wriggled with pleasure as he fondled her silken globes.

‘Angel,' he promised, ‘the only thing that will be burning in this house will be your little posterior.' Lisa's pelvis ached with humiliation and need.

‘Little posterior - is that a medical term?' she taunted, hiding her face in the pillow as more desire trickled down her legs.

‘This isn't medical work now, honey,' Michael murmured. ‘This is personal, given that you showed me up on a sightseeing trip.' He stroked her from waist to thigh with obvious relish. ‘But doctor's orders are that your thrashing begins right now.'

Lisa looked up warily as he swung his body around until he was sitting on the other side of the bed with his feet on the floor. He was still an unknown quantity. But when he started to drag her over his suited knees, she figured she knew what was coming next.

‘Oh, no, not another spanking,' she muttered, one half of her body curious, the other half trying to slither away from the disparaging position across his lap.

‘What do you mean, not another spanking? It's not as if you get one every day,' Michael replied.

‘Do some of the staff get that many...?' She bit back the thought. She didn't want to think of him smacking Ria's suntanned rear or Dania's pert young bottom. And seeing him cane Jamilla's twitching bum had made her feel very strange indeed.

‘Sometimes a new employee breaks all the rules for the first few weeks and spends half of her life over my settee writhing under my riding crop,' the doctor answered. He squeezed her disarmed flesh as he hauled her onto his lap, his grip determined. ‘Carmen was like that when she first came here. She over-roasted most of the meat-based meals.'

And so you roasted her bum, Lisa thought dazedly, and new heat rushed to her own glistening pubes. ‘Don't you dare tell any of the others that you've spanked me,' she warned.

‘Or that I've used the Lochgelly tawse on your exposed arse?' the doctor replied softly.

‘But you haven't...' Lisa muttered, her voice trailing off as she realised what he was planning next.

‘I'm going to use it after I've finished spanking you,' he said matter-of-factly. ‘It's a beautiful long hand-fashioned implement. You haven't tasted its relentless leather yet.'

‘It's too much,' Lisa muttered, staring down at the carpet and wishing that she could stop thinking about her vulnerable raised bottom.

‘For shaming me in the cab? For not counting to fifty like you were told? For leaving your shorts and pants on?' the doctor said.

‘So sack me,' Lisa retorted in a dare-you-to voice, and heard his long low laugh. She knew that neither of them wanted her to leave Malta.

‘That wouldn't be nearly as much fun as spanking this wilful backside,' Michael Landers said.