Chapter 13

As we walked back to her office I said: “I notice you didn’t call me ‘sir’ in there.”

Dr. Faizal blushed scarlet, hearing my clear irritation. “I’m very sorry, Sir. I didn’t think it would be appropriate.”

“Never mind,” I said curtly. “It was your idea, not mine. That’s not what I’m pissed off about.”

Dr. Faizal’s secretary also gave me a glowing smile as we walked into the outer office. That made me wish she was Alice. Not that she was bad looking, but pretty plain, and at least a few years older than Alice. I had never seen her standing before, so I couldn’t really judge her figure. As usual I gave her a brief smile and followed Dr. Faizal into her private office.

Dr. Faizal closed the door and turned to me, eyes down and hands folded in front of her lap. “I apologize again, Sir. If you wish me to, I will be submissive to you wherever or whenever you say. And, if you desire to punish me, please do so, Sir.”

Ah ha! It all came back to me about what she had said about her father and brother -- including the fact that she had enjoyed it.

“Do you deserve punishment for what just happened?” I demanded.

“Yes, Sir,” she said without hesitation. “I should have discussed limitations of the conversation with Dr. Sorenson before going in there. I should have asked her to be more ... polite, Sir.”

“And how is a bad girl punished in your country?”

“I must bend over and lift my skirt. Then the man will spank me.”

That sounded pretty mild compared with what I had done with Jacqueline, but then she was obviously a masochist and a devoted submissive. I wasn’t sure where Dr. Faizal might fit into the BDSM world because it seemed she simply recognized the ‘male right’ to spank her, which was accepted in her Islamic beliefs. The fact that she admittedly enjoyed it did, of course, lend a kinkier twist to it. Not that I really thought Dr. Faizal deserved ‘punishment’ for what had happened with Dr. Sorenson, but she clearly wanted it to ease her guilt complex, and I was still entranced at the thought of this much older, very educated professional woman wanting me to be her ‘Sir’.

“Very well. Bend over.”

She bent over right where she stood in the middle of the room and lifted her long skirt over her back. Then she placed her hands on her knees.

I pulled her ugly black panties down to her mid-thighs and saw some bit of moisture in her exposed slit. I touched it gently with my finger; yes, definitely some lady liquid.

“Is this getting you excited, Dr. Faizal?” I slapped her small, round cheek with my hand.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

“Wow! You really are a bad little girl, aren’t you?” I slapped the other cheek a little bit harder.

This time I could barely hear her voice. “Yes, Sir. Sometimes.”

I started slapping her ass, varying the location, strength and timing. She made little sounds of occasional pain, but mostly moans and bleats of pleasure. Her entire bottom was becoming red and warm.

“Is this what your father and brother used to do to you, bad little girl?”

“It’s what my father used to do -- uh! -- Sir. My brother would make me strip naked, bend me over a couch, and use his belt on my back down to my thighs. OH! Mmm. Even harder than that one, Sir. Much harder.”

I took that as a dare. Or maybe an invitation. She really was a naughty little girl at heart, and wanted a man who would put her in her place. Which, I guess, was over his knee and then ‘presenting’ in front of him. Okay, I would do my best to be that man.

“Stand up, little pain slut,” I commanded.

Dr. Faizal immediately straightened up and put her hands on the back of her head. That made her small breasts push out her blouse.

“Strip.”

There was no hesitation. Dr. Faizal tore her clothes off. Literally, in the case of her blouse, which lost two buttons and had some thread hanging. She once again stood up straight and put her hands back on her head. As old as she was, I still kind of admired her petite, nicely toned figure and her small, pointy breasts.

“Bend over your desk.”

She pushed a few things out of the way and bent over, the side of her head resting on the back of her hands, her face toward the door. She had clearly practiced this position before, probably with her brother. Her ass cheeks were already slightly red from my hand, but I wanted to really bring out the color.

I slid my belt out of the loops and folded it in half. It was thin and would probably sting a lot, but I knew by now that’s what she wanted.

I laid the first stroke pretty firmly across both of her buttocks, which barely quivered at the contact. I frowned, disappointed at myself for her lack of response. My next stroke was twice as hard across her upper thighs. Dr. Faizal gave a little grunt and her ass twitched, but her body did not shy away.

Now I was getting irritated. Was I such a wimp that I couldn’t get a serious reaction out of a spanking? I presumed she would tell me when it was too hard ... although maybe not. I would find out.

I began laying the entire length of the belt across her ass, raising visible welts on her soft skin. I was putting a lot more effort into it, and I could feel the perspiration on my upper body. Dr. Faizal yelped a couple of times, flinching from the blows, but did not lose her position. This was becoming a challenge. I took careful aim at the puffy pussy winking at me from between her now rosy-red cheeks and gave her a really hard strike, putting my weight into it.

With a shriek of surprise she lifted from her toes, her entire body bouncing into the air, although her hands remained remarkably positioned under her head.

She came back down onto the desk breathing heavily. She gave me a quick glance, which I could not read in the least, and resumed her position.

At that moment the door opened and her secretary stood in the doorway.

“Dr. Faizal, I heard noises and just then a scream --”

The woman’s jaw dropped and she stood in shock as she took in the sight before her. Her boss was laying naked across her desk, her ass red and covered with stripes from the belt I held in my hand, ready to strike again. Her eyes widened and she gasped a few times like a fish out of water. I noticed she had a decent looking bosom rising rapidly up and down, and a slightly chunky figure with a nice pair of legs below her skirt.

Dr. Faizal got her composure together quickly, but she did not change her position. “It’s alright, Daphne. Please close the door and return to your desk.”

Although I had visited Dr. Faizal’s office half a dozen times, this was the first time I had heard Daphne’s name or really seen her. She was more attractive than I had thought.

Daphne’s eyes went from her boss to me, and I saw a familiar glint as she looked at me. I also noticed her breathing rate had increased. Then she looked back at her boss and cocked her head with a completely different expression than one of concern.

“Uh, are you sure you’re alright, Dr. Faizal?”

“Yes,” Dr. Faizal said more forcefully. “You may leave now.”

Daphne licked her lips as she looked at the two of us again and started to obey her orders. I thought I understood what was going on with her, so I decided it was time to take charge once more.

“Wait!” I demanded.

Daphne froze at my command.

“I’ll handle this,” I told Dr. Faizal.

Dr. Faizal again glanced back at me, but otherwise gave no indication of how she felt. Most importantly, she did not move her position. “Yes, Sir,” she said meekly.

“Are you surprised, Daphne?” I asked mildly.

The young woman’s mouth was slight open and she licked her lips as her gaze swiveled from Dr. Faizal to me. “Um ... yes.”

“At what?”

Daphne blinked several more times as though she wanted to say, “Isn’t it obvious?” But she was smart enough not to. Instead, she said, “At Dr. Faizal being in, uh, that position. A young man spanking her. And, well, that this kind of obviously looks consensual. I mean, she called you ‘sir’.”

I nodded, pleased at her answer. I walked close to her. I made my voice low and intimate. “And how does all of that make you feel, Daphne?”

She licked her lips again and trembled, clearly not wanting to answer. But her nervous breathing caused her to inhale my scents. She closed her eyes and tried to fight it. “Uh ... surprised?”

“Don’t be flippant, Daphne!” I said sternly.

She gulped. “I’m sorry.” She took several more breaths. Her voice also got lower, although more frightened than intimate. “Excited.”

I moved right next to her, my mouth very close to her ear, but my eyes were on Dr. Faizal. My voice was once more low and intimate.”Excited because of seeing her like that, Daphne, or because of seeing me with a belt in my hand?”

She trembled harder, and I turned to see her eyes pleading with me not to make her answer. I whispered: “Tell me.”

She finally gave up. “Both,” she whispered in return. Her hands were twitching, but I wasn’t sure what it was they wanted to touch.

“including the fact that Dr. Faizal called me ‘sir’.”

She gulped, then gave a little bob of her head.

I nodded. “Then come in, and close the door behind you.”

As Daphne did as she had been told, Dr. Faizal made a tiny sound that was definitely not happy. However, she knew better than to say anything.

“Take my hand, Daphne.”

She obediently held out her hand, which was warm and clammy to the touch.

I led her over to where Dr. Faizal still bent over the table. She followed meekly. I held up the belt.

“Should I have Daphne spank you, naughty little girl?”

Dr. Faizal shuddered at the thought of that. When she answered, she betrayed none of her loathing at the suggestion. “If that is what you desire, Sir.”

“Ah. And what about you, Daphne? Would you like to spank Dr. Faizal?”

Daphne looked shocked. “NO!”

I cocked my head at her. “No what, Daphne?”

She looked a little puzzled. “No, I don’t want to spank my boss.”

“No, Daphne.” I smiled at her as if she were a silly little child. “When you speak to me as Dr. Faizal did, what should you say?”

Now she looked totally baffled. After a short moment the light went on. “You mean -- no, sir?”

I waved my fingers toward myself with an encouraging smile.

“Oh. Uh, no --” After a long pause, during which a wide range of emotions flitted across her facial features, Daphne took another deep breath and said more firmly, “No, Sir. I would not like to spank Dr. Faizal.”

“Very good, Daphne. I won’t demand that of you. But I want you to do something else for me.”

“What?”

I looked at her sternly. She gulped.

“I mean, uh, what, Sir?”

My gaze softened. “Take down my pants, Daphne.”

She looked at me. She looked at Dr. Faizal, who did not move a muscle. Then she leaned down to undo the button, unzip my pants, and lower them to my ankles.

Her eyes widened as she saw the semi-tumescence in my boxers.

“Kneel down.”

Keeping her eyes fixed on my boxers, she very slowly knelt at my feet.

“Now the underwear.”

Almost reverently she pulled down my boxers. My cock sprang up just a little more sturdily.

“Oh. Oh, my.” She was almost gasping for breath. “That is so ... beautiful. So large.”

“And you can make it even larger, Daphne. Do you want to do that?”

“Yes! I mean, yes, Sir. Please.”

“You have my permission, Daphne. But don’t suck my balls.” I was still a little worried about those after my meeting with Dr. Sorenson.