Have You Been Naughty? Ch. 01

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Naughty secretary sent to disciplinary doctor.
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Yes, you have been naughty. Thinking dirty thoughts and flirting with your married boss. You wear your short skirts and blouse and leave teasing notes on his desk.

"Need a bathroom break?" the last one said. "I've got some wet womanly things to attend to . . . wanna watch?"

Your boss is a good man, and knows his limits. He explodes telling you about his wife and kids at home, and that if you want to keep your job, you will need to go see a therapist. yep, me.

He tells you to call my office and arrange an appointment and that he will follow up with me to be sure this is done. He also tells you that he has already sent me the notes you have left for him and a photo of you in your last naughty outfit.

Once you call, my receptionist informs you to wear the last outfit, a short skirt, pumps and loose blouse to your appointment, and gives you the address. She tells you not to be late and that the session will be at least 2 hours.

You arrive mostly on time having gotten only slightly lost on the way to my office. you ring the bell and there then wait several moments for the door to be unlatched. A beautiful mid 40s woman with long dark hair opens the door.

"I see that you have trouble keeping comitments." she says, "please have a seat on the couch and the doctor will be with you shortly. Typically you will get a glass of wine when you arrive, but not when you are late. Here is a glass of water and some forms to fill out. Please hurry as you are the last appointment of the day and I would like to go home."

You feel the cold and smug attitude of the secretary and resent her for it. Fine, you think, and seat yourself on the black cold leather couch. Instantly you feel your legs stick to the material and you squirm imagining what you have gotten yourself into and question if this job could ever be worth this. 'Oh well,' you think, 'how bad can it be?' and you turn your attention to the form.

The first question on the form: When was the last time you were vaginally penetrated?

you stare in shock and your heart sinks. 'Should I answer truthfully?' you think to yourself. You decide that no one could ever know that you had been with your best male friend just a few days ago and that you had masturbated only last night with your favorite fleshy dildo.

6 months. you answer, giggling a bit and squirm once more on the couch.

Next question: When was the last time your were disciplined?

'How crazy?' you think. 'Disciplined? Maybe high school?'

12 years ago I was grounded for sneaking out of the house with my boyfriend,' you answer, conveniently leaving out the fact that you had been giving him a blowjob in the backyard when your father caught you. He also spanked you for 20 minutes straight while bending knee, pajama pants down to your ankles.

The next questions were a series of yes and no multiple choice.

Do you masturbate regularly (3 or more times per week)? Are you attracted to women? Do you fantasize about multiple sexual partners? Sex with married men? Sex with older men? or men of authority? Do you masturbate at work? In the shower? In your car?

The questions continue and eventually get even more personal asking about the frequency of your enemas, douching, and shaving habits.

You become annoyed and look at the secretary who is staring at you impatiently.

"Done yet?" she says.

"Yes," you lie, "here it is, I need to get this appointment over with too. I have a date in 3 hours with a very handsome, rich and funny man."

The secretary takes your questionnaire and looks at the first several answers. Satisfied, she leads you to the back waiting room and asks you to please have a seat. Immediately you notice that there is only one small wooden bench in the center of the room that is placed in front of a desk and plush leather chair. You head for the chair at the desk and the secretary grabs you forcefully and swings you for the bench.

"That is the doctor's seat." she scalds. "You can sit on the bench or the floor. It is up to you."

Sitting on the bench, you adjust your skirt so that there is at least something in between you and the splintering wood.

The secretary then retrieves a small stool and places it in the corner and sits down with her notepad on her lap.

"Hello Miss." you hear as I enter the room.

A tall, blonde, and commanding man wearing a white coat over a blue dress shirt and loosened tie. He looks like he has finished a long day.

"Do you know why you are here?" he asks. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the secretary grin and cross her legs. She begins to write.

"Yes," you say. "I have been making inappropriate comments at work. I would like to keep my job, so I agreed to come to this therapy. . . . I would also prefer it if we could be alone." you add and gesture to the bitchy secretary.

"My assistant Lisa is here to monitor your progress. She will take good notes and eventually videotape the sessions so that your boss can review your progress. In the meantime, will you please stand up and leave your purse on the bench there."

As you stand, you again see Lisa unfold her legs and then re-cross them.

"Please lean over and then place your hands on the table," I say. "Scoot your legs apart and then please tell me truth about why you are here."

Suddenly, the reality of what may just happen is obvious to you. You quickly do as your told and realize immediately that you should comply. Perhaps if you do, this session can be over soon.

"I have been flirting with my boss and he is married," you sputter. "I have invited him to watch me masturbate and to have sex with me but only because he is so hard to resist. I am not a bad person!" you cry.

"Perhaps not. We shall see. Lisa, the questionnaire please."

Your mind begins to race. what didn't I answer truthfully on that.

"You have not been sexually active for six months?" I ask and then smirk. "Well that IS a long time to wait. Perhaps you just need some release. I am going to recommend a new masturbation program for you that Lisa can help you with later on. For now, I am going to have to get to the matters at hand, so to speak."

I flip up your skirt and you feel the cold of the room on your thighs and cheeks as goosebumps emerge quickly on your skin. You hear me remove my tie and roll up my sleeves from the corner of your eye. You then feel a warm hand on your left cheek and jump slightly as I quickly squeeze your flesh. Smack! You jump at the first slap and you feel my hand switch it's attention to your other cheek.

"Before we continue," I say, " I will ask that you count and thank me for each stroke. I am teaching you to be a better person after all and I want to hear your earnest thank yous. If you fail to concentrate, I will know you are not learning your lesson and will have to change my tactics. Of course this usually means more discomfort and extra sessions. Do I have your compliance?"

"Yes Doctor." you say.

Three more smacks nearly take your breath away.

"1, 2, 3" you say.

"That was 2, 3, and 4, and you did not thank me. This may be a problem if you cannot follow directions. . . . Lisa, how late was our patient?"

"Ten minutes doctor," Lisa beams from the corner.

"Fine then, please note that we will have 10 paddle strokes at the end of the session."

"Yes doctor."

The true spanking then commences. Five, Ten, and then Twenty strokes. Each burning a bit more as your ass begins to glow red, warming the room. You count and thank and count and thank. 1 thank you, 2, thank you, . . . .and soon twenty thank you and grit your teeth. At twenty one you realize that your thong panties are completely soaked through with wetness and that somehow you are actually enjoying some of this.

"Do you recognize this note?" I ask and place your last flirtatious note on the desk in front of you. This one spelling out to your boss your last evening's activities with a torrent lover and detailing how your messy come stained panties are in his top drawer. 'wouldn't you like a piece of pie?' the note says.

You cringe. knowing that your discipline is only beginning.

"Yes," you say softly, "but I just wanted to see if I was desirable to him." you add.

"I thought you have not been active for six months?" You feel me tear your now soaking wet thong from your body, rubbing harshly as they rip against your flesh. I examine them and then places them in front of your nose.

"It seems that you are once again creating a mess in your panties Miss. Pleas open your mouth so that you can now taste the consequences of your naughty thoughts. Go ahead and chew on your dirty sex smell and swallow your salty wetness."

You comply and are again surprised to find your body wetter than before. You assume this will go undetected, but soon feel my finger at your pussy's opening.

"Lisa, it appears our student is turned on by her own taste. Please write down that she is likely bi-sexual and unusually wet. Please get me the small remote vibrator."

As Lisa gets up to leave the room, you feel my fingers exploring your pussy's insides and tickling your clit and neatly trimmed mound. Your juices begin to drip down one leg and then the other. When Lisa returns, she looks at your stuffed "panty-mouth" and laughs. she hands me a small flesh colored dildo and a couple different tubes of lube: one marked hot, one marked extra-hot, and the third marked anal. Your mind races. And you then see me remove my belt.

"It appears as if you are very sexually active and this is a direct lie against the questionnaire. Since you lack any sort of honesty, it is time to take some corrective measures and . . . apply some heat."

I say as I spread a bit of the lube marked hot on my finger and spread it on the vibrator. With a quick shove, the vibrator disappears in your pussy. In just a couple seconds, you feel the vibrator begin to move and an unmistakable warmth on your lips, clit and internal walls. I then spread some lube on your back door and surrounding area. The tickle sends a shiver through your body.

Distracted by the heat, you have forgotten about the belt until you feel it stripe your behind. "OUCH!" you yell, but I continue to deliver several more blows.

"You have forgotten to count again!" I shout. "This is incredible" he says as he lays out three more blows. You try to regain composure, but the combination of the vibrator, heat, and ass slapping is bringing you close to an orgasm. I then throw down the belt in mock frustration and begins again on your ass. First slapping it with my hands, and then fingering your hole with my middle finger. Your orgasm is building from your toes to your fingertips and you are sure that you will cry once this is over.

Glancing behind you, you notice Lisa is videotaping the session. My pants have dropped to the floor and my raging hard-on is waving at you between my slaps on your ass. You then relax and know that you will soon have a cock inside you and that you hope for many more sessions. The salty taste of your own wetness filling your nose and the head of my cock pressing at your ass, and you instantly realize that you've been very very bad on purpose . . . and that the paddle is sitting in the corner . . .

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AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
Why did you stop?

You were just getting me started, then you left me with nothing. The story is way too short.

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