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“Come on,” the doctor takes me by the hand and leads me through them. It’s everything I can do not to just pick someone and hurt them. So many vulnerable body parts just walking by me, begging to be broken. I scan every passing person, glaring at the ones who make eye contact, not paying attention to where we are going.
Then it happens. One of them looks at me with an expression I don’t like. He has a sneering attitude, a nasty smirk I don’t care for. Also, his hair is a stupid color and has too much gel in it. That’s all the reason I need to kick my leg out and trip him, laughing as he goes sprawling, making heavy contact with the ground.
Something sharp and hard makes contact with my rear. I turn around swiftly, ready to kick the teeth out of someone’s face. Then I realize that it was the doctor. He smacked my butt. One slap. Hard enough to get my attention, not hard enough to really hurt.
“Don’t do that, Doc.”
“Don’t attack people,” he says firmly. “We’ve had enough violence for one day. Now apologize to the man.”
“I’m not going to.”
The guy has picked himself up off the ground. He’s a low level operative type. A grunt. He doesn’t matter.
“Apologize, Electra.”
The doctor’s tone has dropped. His gaze his serious. There’s no anger in his body, or his voice, but he means what he’s saying.
“I’m not going to apologize.”
“Then you’re going to be spanked.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Oh, yes, you are,” he says. He lifts his eyes to the guy I tripped. “I’m sorry,” he says. “She’s in training.”
“Yeah, okay,” the guy shrugs and walks off. He’d rather escape with what’s left of his bruised pride. Being tripped when you’re supposed to be some extra special agent is pretty embarrassing.
I smirk at the doctor. That’s one win to me. Chaos and no apology.
“Alright then, let’s deal with you,” Doctor Ares says. He reverses direction, takes me from wherever we were going and back to the medical bay. His grip on my hand remains firm until we are in one of the private rooms together. He shuts the door, puts his hands on my hips and hoists me up onto the bed, one hand on either side of me as be boxes me in. I find myself looking into his eyes, even though I don’t want to. His expression ignites me deep down in a part of me I don’t often access.
“I know you’re going to act out,” he says. “But you have to know that I intend to discipline you when you deserve it. And not the way the others have. I’m not going to chain you up. I’m not going to beat you. But I am going to spank your little butt when you need it.”
My hips squirm, and I don’t know why. I have never been spoken to like this before. I have been warned, shouted at, screamed at, lectured… I have been treated with vicious aggression and brute dominance. But it has never been like this. There was never any warmth in the voices which threatened me.
“You know you’re going to get a spanking, don’t you.” His voice is soft, but firm. “Here. Now.”
I shake my head. “That won’t do anything to me.”
Spanking, as I understand it, and as he has demonstrated so far, is merely the slapping of the buttocks with an open palm. Even done vigorously, I don’t see how it can change me, when much harsher punishments have never scratched the surface of my rage.
“Oh I think it will. Slip your pants off.”
I find myself obeying, even though I don’t believe this will do anything. I am curious though. I’m not afraid of him, or of pain. I can take a lot of hurt, and I know how to shut it out if it gets too much. Doing his bidding, I push my pants down and end up sitting there in my underwear. That feels silly, so I kick my shoes off to let my pants fall down and leave my legs bare.
“Alright,” he says, sitting in a nearby chair. “You’re going to go over my lap for this.”
“Okay?” I shrug. “This is silly, Doc. Maybe this works with normal people, but I kinda doubt it. It definitely won’t work with me.”
“Let’s see, shall we?” He beckons me over with a crooked finger, and that little tickle of excitement lights itself inside me again, not at the prospect of punishment, but at the closeness this is apparently going to entail.
I step over to him and he takes my hand, pulling me down gently over his thighs. I’ve never touched this much man before with my body. My fists and feet, kneels, elbows, teeth, they’ve all made a lot of male contact over the years, but not my thighs, my stomach, even my breasts briefly brush against his thighs as he pulls me over his lap and settles me into place.
