River Walk: Ten Kinky Collaborations (7 page)

“This all seems to be in order.” His eyes scan the paper in the chart. “Now, we just need to complete the physical, and I will tell you everything you need to know about what we’ll be doing here.”

He rises and walks over to a drawer, pulling out a stethoscope and placing the buds in his ears.

“I’m going to listen to your heart,” he informs me, stepping toward me until his thighs rest against my shins. He tilts his head down, looking up at me from over the rims of his fashionable specs, and says in a gravelly voice, “May I touch you?”

I don’t know what it is about what he just asked, but it sounds anything but professional, sending an almost numbing tingle through me.

“Yes, Dr. Landon,” I utter, unbuttoning the top three buttons of my blouse, revealing my bra and cleavage to him.

He lets out a breath before placing the cold, circular piece against my chest plate.

“Take a nice steady breath for me.” I slowly inhale, causing my breasts to rise and his eyes to widen slightly. “Now, exhale for me.”

We repeat this a few more times, him moving the piece about. Next, he checks my blood pressure, jotting down his notes as he checks off each task.

“Well, Miss Petrov, you are very desirable.”

“Excuse me?” I squeak out, my face twisted with shock.

“For the study, you’re exactly the type I need.”

“Oh, yes, good.” I shake my head at myself and let out a little chuckle, feeling dumb about my misunderstanding.

He closes my file. “If you’ll follow me, I will show you what I require from you as a subject.”

He turns and walks out of the room. I jump off the examination table and follow close behind him. He leads us out of his office and into the hall.

“Now, I assume you know what we will be testing, correct?”

“Yes, I understand that much. Inhibitors, enhancers, and placebos.”

“That’s right. We want to explore and evaluate what happens when different levels of external pain are introduced to the subject.” He steps in front of a door and turns back to me. “How would you rate your tolerance of pain?”

I giggle to myself on the inside, and a smirk sweeps across my lips for just an instant. “I’ve never been one to shy away from it, if that’s what you mean. I’ve always had a high tolerance.”

He smiles at me, a genuine, warm smile. That one was unmistakable. He turns back to the door and opens it, stepping inside. I trail behind him, entering the dark room.

Suddenly, light floods the large space and I spot a bulky object in the center, concealed by a white cover. He strides over to it and yanks the sheet off. “We felt this would be the safest instrument for introducing external pain.”

Placed before a long metal arm, sits a tall bench with a padded, red leather top. Attached to the arm is a black, pliable paddle with tiny circular cutouts for aerodynamics. This isn’t some flimsy amateur apparatus. This is all business.

I know what it is, but I’m so shocked I still have to ask, “What am I looking at exactly?”

“This, Miss Petrov, is a spanking machine.”

And I thought he was just going to be a metaphorical pain the butt.

“You’ll be spanking me with this?” I clarify.

“Yes.” He walks toward the machine, placing his hands, palms down, on the spanking bench. It’s positioned directly in front of the intimidating device, with a padded area for me to kneel. “You will bend over this,” he explains, running his fingers over the leather of the benchtop, “and I will administer the lashings to the mound of your backside.”

“Why my ass?”

His brow crinkles. “I can elicit the most pain without permanently harming you physically. Safety is key.”

“I see,” I murmur, soaking in what I just walked into.

“Would you like to see how it works?” he asks, picking up a small remote control.

I nod my head softly. “Yes, please.”

He smiles faintly and presses a button, moving the arm up and down, in and out, demonstrating its reach. When he hits the green button at the bottom, the metal arm flies through the air, coming to an abrupt halt. The floppy paddle cracks, letting out a deafening pop. I steal a glance over at him, noting a look of satisfaction as the snapping reverberates. He repeats it, over and over, increasing the speed and impact each time. The echoing noise of the paddle bounces from the walls of the empty clinical room.

“Now that you’ve seen what it can do, are you still willing to participate in this study?”

His gaze is almost challenging, but I’m sure it’s just in my head. He’s been nothing but professional the entire time.

I need to think about this.

“May I give you my answer tomorrow?”

“Of course, Miss Petrov. I wouldn’t want you to make a rash decision about something this important. I’ll be waiting for your reply.”

Later that night, after dinner has been consumed and cleaned up, I head to bed. I have the early shift tomorrow, which means I have to be there before opening to get everything set up. At least, that was the plan. Instead, I lie awake, staring up at the ceiling as shadows move across it from the headlights of passing cars. I can’t stop thinking about today’s interview and…demonstration. The idea of that floppy black paddle making contact with my backside sends ripples of arousal through me, hardening my nipples, causing my skin to vibrate with anticipation.

Suddenly, I find my hands slowly dipping down below my sheets toward the source of my need. Wet and warm, I slide my fingers between the folds, finding my throbbing clit with the gentlest stroke. Ecstasy bursts through me, awakening every nerve-ending from head to toe.

I imagine him in his white coat, standing over me with intensely watchful eyes, magnetic and dark. Aroused at the sight of me lying out for him to claim, to mark as his, his cock grows larger by primal need, straining against the fly of his pants.

I picture what it will be like as he carries out the punishment. But instead of a cold leather paddle, he uses his warm skilled hand. With a sinister gleam in his eyes, his palm shoots through the air, coming to a rough stop on my flesh, grasping slightly to intensify the hot bite.

I think of how his fingers would feel roaming over my raw, red ass with the delicate touch of a feather, handling me as if I were fragile lace, grazing every rise and fall.

I’m lost.

I wake the next morning, my decision resolute. I sign my name on the consent forms. I am going to go through with the study.

CHAPTER THREE

As instructed, I ate then took the medication I was given an hour before our first session. This is to give it time to take effect. I couldn’t help wonder, as I popped the little white pill in my mouth, which one I was consuming.

I walk into his office, anxious, palms clammy, mind racing. But this overwhelming feeling isn’t about the pain I’m about to experience. It’s the man who will inflict it that has me all twisted in knots.

Ever since our first meeting, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Dr. Landon, his penetrating eyes, or his strong hands working me over until I’m destroyed. Mentally, physically, emotionally, a fucking wreck.

“Miss Petrov?” His soothing voice smashes through my reveries. It’s so smooth and melodic. It makes me want to melt.

I realize I’ve been ogling him and my thighs are clenched together, attempting to relieve the ache radiating from my clit due to my inappropriate thoughts. I look up at him with wary eyes, praying he doesn’t see the arousal flushing my cheeks.

“If you’re ready, please follow me.”

He turns and exits out the door, and I quickly follow, taking twice as many steps to keep up with his long gait. We enter the lab and he walks over to a drawer, pulling out a large plain white cotton tee.

“I want you to change into this, leaving your panties on.” I take it from him, holding it to my chest. He points over to a door. “You may do so in the dressing room over there.”

I shyly nod my head, suddenly terrified, and head over to the small room, dressing quickly. When I’m ready, wearing only the t-shirt and my panties, I take an exaggerated breath before stepping out.

He’s messing with the machine, marking down notes on his clipboard. He must feel me ogling him cause he glimpses up at me, standing anxiously by the changing room door. With a gentle smile, he says, “Please, join me over here.”

I amble over to the long leather-topped spanking bench and rest my hands on its cool surface. My breath nearly nonexistent.

“Now, Miss Petrov. I want you to kneel, facing away from the machine, and bend over the benchtop with your shirt lifted above your rear.” I follow his instructions, leaning over the bench with my shirt hiked over my ass, exposing my white panties to him. “Very good. Please lay your cheek and hands, palms down, flat on the surface.”

Without hesitation, I place my hands as instructed.

“Are you nervous?” he asks.

I think that’s sort of a ridiculous question in my current predicament. I mean, how else would I feel?

“Yes, a little,” I answer. “How would you feel if you were the one with your rear exposed to a total stranger?”

“Yes, I see your point.” I think I hear him laugh, but it’s too light. I can’t be sure. “I want you to rate each time the paddle makes contact, on a scale from one to ten. Ten being the worst, one the least. You must remain completely still during the course of this session. This is for your safety and the success of this experiment. If you have had enough before the duration of the session has concluded, you must tell me to stop. But this is only to be said if you can no longer tolerate the pain. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Dr. Landon, understood.”

He moves out from my line of vision, and the lights in the room dim just enough so I can still see outlines.

“Are you going to light some candles while you’re at it,” I tease, “put on some mood music?”

He doesn’t respond, leaving an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air. A moment or two passes before he speaks. “I thought the lack of light might make you feel less exposed and more at ease. Plus, by dulling your sense of sight, you might better focus your energy into what you feel.”

“You could’ve just blindfolded me.” I blush at the thought. I don’t know why I feel the need to blurt out every last thing that pops in my head when I’m around him. It’s a habit I need to break.

“I’m ready when you are, Miss Petrov.”

I gulp, pushing the hot lump in my throat down into my stomach where it sits heavily.

“Ready,” I whisper, unsure if he heard me. After a long pause, a stirring sensation wells up deep inside my lower abdomen, warm and tight. I open my mouth to speak, “I sai…”

THWACK!

The paddle snaps against my ass, stinging like hell and awakening every nerve ending. I yelp, completely taken by surprise, and jolt forward, every muscle seizing up. My eyes shut tight, and my hands grip the sides of the table, fingers digging into the softness of the leather. Emotions stir in me, fear, excitement, arousal, need.

“Eight,” I shakily breathe out.

“Very good.” His voice cracks a bit.

He does it again, connecting with the opposite cheek. The snap bounces about the room, echoing off the clinically white walls. It stings slightly less. Perhaps cause I know what to expect.

“Seven.”

It whips across both cheeks this time, accentuating the abrasive burn of the previous two whacks. I gasp for air, my hands squeezing the edges. I feel a sudden ache coming from between my thighs, wet warmth soaking my lips and possibly my panties. I’m enjoying this more than I should.

“Nine.”

THWACK!

I chomp down on my bottom lip, suppressing a moan rising in my throat. My fingers claw at the sides of the bench, trying to control the intoxicating feelings ripping through my body.

“Six,” I pant, fighting to take in a solid breath.

THWACK!

This one makes perfect contact with the apex of my legs, rippling outward until it possesses me wholly. My toes curl and my back violently arcs, lifting my flaming ass in the air.

He repeats five more times, building me up with each swat until I lose myself, my inhibitions. The bittersweet sensation he’s exacting on me overwhelms my senses. The world vanishes into a hazy blur, melting away like chalk on a wet sidewalk. Every stinging bite of the paddle thrusts me forward, physically and mentally taking me to a place of indescribable euphoria.

“Last one,” he murmurs in a gruff voice.

Whistling as the paddle cuts through the air, I hear this one coming and surrender to it. I know there is no fighting it. And I don’t want to. I welcome it willingly. When it hits its target, I erupt like a volcano, twisting and shaking. The moans I’d been trying desperately to hinder come surging out of me uncontrollably.

“Ten!” I cry out. “Fucking ten!”

I tremble on the table, holding on for dear life, as I ride out my orgasm, exhausting me of any energy. Sucking in as much air as my lungs will hold, I try to regain my wits, mentally grasping onto something tangible. The sting of my backside is pleasant, almost assuring. I hear the whirring of the machine as it winds down and turns off, resonating within me like a warm hum, calming me into a state of peaceful, satisfied bliss.

A need surfaces. A need for him, his touch, his tenderness. I want him to take me in his arms, hold me close, pet me, care for me.

“I’m going to examine you now, Miss Petrov,” he informs me, but I don’t understand with my scrambled brain. I nod my head lazily, too heavy to lift from the table.

The next thing I know, he’s sliding his fingers down my hips, shifting my panties down to just under my ass.

What the fuck?! Did I just come right in front of him?! Is he touching my ass?!

There’s movement behind me and I glance over my shoulder, watching him crouch behind me. I tense and he looks up at me, a softness in his eyes. “It’s alright, Mila. You can trust me.”

The use of my name relaxes me a little and I nod my approval, laying my cheek back down against the leather.

He inspects me, taking his time to survey the affected area. I feel so vulnerable. I know he could easily spot my wetness from his crouched position. I pray it doesn’t show with him this close to my…