River Walk: Ten Kinky Collaborations Read online

  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…

  I feel his forced, warm breath brush across the tender flesh of my backend. Goose bumps spread along my skin, tightening from the annihilating chill sprinting up my back. He doesn’t touch my flaming backside, but his hands sweep over the plump mound, inches from my aching flesh. I know this without having to look. I sense him there, the heat radiating off his hands, deepened by the raw burn of my own skin.

  “How do you feel, Miss Petrov?”

  Turned-on, thrilled, alive, take your pick.

  “I feel…good,” I answer truthfully, without giving too much of myself away.

  “How would you rate your pain, on a scale from one to ten, now?”

  “Six.”

  “Six?” He hums, as if he’s contemplating my answer. “Is that all?”

  “Yes, a six.”

  “Thank you,” he says, marking it down. “You’re finished for today. You can get dressed now.”

  He walks out of the room
without another word, leaving me alone, cold. I change back into my clothes and try to make sense of what I just experienced. When I’m done, only one thought is truly clear. I want him.

  As I exit the building, pondering my feelings, he calls out to me with that mind-blowing accent, “Miss Petrov.”

  Is he seriously talking to me? Did I do something wrong?

  He strides up to me with a ghost of a smirk on his face, almost too faint to see.

  “Did I forget something?” I inquire, my stomach buzzing with excitement.

  “No, you’re fine.” He adjusts the strap of his leather messenger bag. “I was wondering if you’d allow me to walk you to your car.”

  “Why?” My lip curls up, and I stare at him like I just smelled something terrible. I’m not trying to be rude. I genuinely don’t understand why he would offer.

  He chuckles softly. “Cause it’s getting late and it’s not safe for you to walk around campus at night by yourself.”

  “Oh.” I clear a chunk of hair from my forehead, tucking it behind my ear, but it’s too short and falls back in my face. “I didn’t bring my car here. I live in an apartment not far away, so I walked. Trying to be green and all that.”

  “Well, then let me walk you to your flat.”

  I don’t know if this is proper conduct, but if he’s willing to walk me, who am I to turn it down?

  “Sure. That would be nice. Thank you.”

  “Where do you live exactly?”

  “It’s about a ten minute walk from here.”

  We stroll quietly for about a hundred paces before he finally speaks, “What made you decide to participate in this study?”

  I guess we’re going to talk shop. This guy really is all business.

  “Honestly, I needed the money. I have school loans, and with the economy as it is, I’ve been finding it difficult to gain employment with decent enough pay. I currently work at a diner just to make ends meet.”

  “So, your decision came from fiscal necessity.” He seems disappointed in my response. I don’t know what he was expecting me to say.

  Oh, yeah, I just love getting my ass paddled by a perfect stranger.

  “Why did you choose to head the research?”

  He smirks a secret smile, as if there’s a joke only he’s privy to.

  “For the sake of medicine, of course.”

  We laugh together, though I’m not sure why I’m joining in. Somehow, I feel this is not his only reason either. When we hit a crosswalk, I notice how his hand moves to my upper back, guiding me quickly to the opposite corner.

  “Are you from San Antonio?” he asks, removing his hand and leaving me feeling a little cold. I hadn’t realized how warm his touch made my body until it was gone.

  “Yeah, I stayed here because of my mom.” I don’t really want to go into my entire family history, so I keep it vague in hopes he won’t probe further.

  “Why would you need to stay here for your mum?”

  Of course he couldn’t let it be. How could I be so stupid to think he wouldn’t actually want to know about me? Why can’t he be oblivious like other men?

  I really do love his accent though. There’s something soothing and arousing about it, putting me at ease. Odd, considering only thirty minutes ago, he was giving my hide a serious tanning.

  “She has a bad heart, and I knew my dad wouldn’t be able to take care of her by himself. I attended college here so I could stay close to her.”

  “I see,” he says in a sullen tone.

  “What about you? By that accent, I’m guessing you’re not from Texas.” I giggle and he smiles to himself.

  “You’re certainly observant…and cheeky.”

  “What can I say? It’s part of my charm.”

  “Yes, it is,” he whispers, but I still catch it, feeling all warm and tingly on the inside. “I am from Chelsea. That would be the U.K.,” he clarifies with a lighthearted smirk.

  “Well, thank goodness you told me. I never would have figured that out on my own.”

  I know I’m really turning it on for him, but I can’t help it. I joke when I feel uncomfortable. Not that he’s the cause. I mean, he is, but not directly. Did I mention I ramble too?

  We arrive at my apartment complex, and I stop at the double glass doors entering the lobby, feeling a sense of relief and sadness.

  “Thank you for walking me home. That was very kind of you.” I smile up to him before turning around and opening the door.

  “Petrov?”

  “Yes?” I answer, glimpsing back at him. He looks like he wants to tell me something, but he’s struggling with himself.

  He lets out a loud exhale. “Have a good night,” he finally says.

  “You too.”

  I nod before walking into the building, feeling a strange flutter in my chest and a throbbing on my ass.

  I’m dead exhausted. All I want to do is take a hot bath, throw on some PJs, and pass out, forgetting about my sore backend.

  However, Lee has different plans for me. As soon as I walk through the door, she’s gabbing my ear off about her new beau. She’s only been seeing him the past few weeks, but it’s already, Jake this, Jake that, Jake said, et cetera, ad nauseam. Don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled for my friend, but with everything I’ve been going through, I just wish she would ease up a bit. I mean, it’s not her fault. We’ve both been so busy lately with work and family and life, we just got sidetracked. Plus, I haven’t really been open with her about what’s been going on with me. Seriously, how do you tell your friend you just had your ass whipped by a hot doctor whose very presence gets you off?

  I snag a couple beers from the fridge and join her on the couch, handing one over. If I can’t go relax like I wanted, I need some way to take the edge off. And hopefully numb my butt.

  “So,” she says, nudging me with her shoulder. “what’s with that guy who walked you home?”

  “What are you talking about?” I try to play coy, but I’m a terrible fucking liar.

  “Don’t pull that shit with me, Mila.” She softly pokes my bicep. “I saw him. He is a total babe.”

  Our apartment is only a floor above the entrance to the building. She must have been on the balcony having a cigarette when we walked up, giving her a front row seat to the show. I think I almost prefer talking about her boyfriend over this.

  “He’s the doctor I had the interview with.” I shrug, taking a sip of my beer. “He’s no one really. It’s nothing.”

  “It didn’t look like nothing. He seemed really into you.” She wiggles her brows at me, with her perverted thoughts smirk smeared across her lips.

  “I highly doubt it.” I shake my head. “I’m just a guinea pig to him.”

  “I don’t think he would walk a guinea pig all the way to their apartment. Just sayin’.” She takes a big swig of her drink, swishing it around in her mouth before swallowing. “What is this study for exactly?”

  Oh, Lord. Why did she have to pick tonight of all nights to give two shits about my life?

  Damn. I’m tired and cranky.

  “It’s research for pain relievers and inhibitors. It’s all really boring stuff.” I lie straight through my teeth to my best friend. I just don’t know how I can tell her about what’s going on. I know it’s supposed to be all business, but I can’t help feeling like it’s personal.

  Very personal.

  “Do you want to order in and watch some crappy movies?” she asks and then finishes off her beer.

  “Nah,” I set mine on the table and stand up. “It’s been a long tiring day. I think I’m going to hit the hay.”

  I head into my room and flop onto my bed, trying to shut my eyes and sleep, but Oliver never leaves my thoughts.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  After nearly two weeks, we completed our final session together. Once I’ve dressed and collected myself, I wait for the doctor in his office, my leg shaking restlessly. I don’t know why I feel on edge
. The worst part is over with, right? So why do I feel like it’s only just begun?

  I glance around his private space, noting the degrees lined perfectly on the wall and bookshelves filled with books of medicine and science. I notice some photos facing away from me on the desk, and my curiosity gets the best of me. I pick one up, expecting to find a photo of the doctor with his perfect wife and two point five kids, positioned in some fake pose, dressed in bright white clothes, phony smiles plastered on their faces. But instead, I find a picture of a beautiful Dutch Shepard, tongue hanging out of its mouth, head kinked to the side. I giggle as I place it back on his desk and pick up another. It’s the doctor, younger, wearing a cap and gown, with who I can only assume are his parents standing at his sides. His mother looks up at him proudly as he and his father smile at the camera. It kind of warms my heart. I like seeing him so…real. Sometimes it’s hard to remember he isn’t a machine like the one he’s used on me.

  “You’re a nosy little thing,” he says behind me, startling the fuck out of me. Sneaky devil.

  I glimpse back at him quickly then shakily set the frame back where I found it, causing it to fall over with a loud thump.

  “I’m sorry. I was…”

  “Snooping,” he finishes for me, picking up the picture and placing it back where I found it.

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  “It’s fine.” He walks over to his chair, taking a seat, keeping his eyes latched onto my face. Embarrassed by my fascination with him, I cast my eyes toward the window to my left. I know he’s still watching me. I feel it. I feel him. “Let’s get this started, shall we?”

  I nod my head.

  “Will you please look at me, Miss Petrov?” I cringe before slowly turning my face. He has a faint smile on his lips, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Much better.”

  He clears his throat and then proceeds, asking me questions about my experience. They’re all very clinical inquiries, easily answered with a simple yes or no.

  After about ten minutes, he eases back into his seat, seemingly thinking something over. I see the conflict on his face, creasing his brow, pulling his lips down at the corners. When he figures whatever he was working out in his head, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk, clasping his hands in front of him. The next thing that comes from his mouth nearly puts my ass on the floor. “Do you find yourself sexually aroused by our sessions, Miss Petrov?”