The Doctor's Command

by Loki Renard

  “Or as long as you agree to it.”

  Chloe bit her lower lip, her big brown eyes going wide with the possibilities of his statement. He could practically see her ears pricking up at what he’d said.

  “I like you, brat,” he said, putting his cards on the table. “It’s been about three times as long for me as it has been for you since I last made love to a woman, and it meant something to me…”

  Relief was visible on her face, no matter how hard she tried to play it cool.

  “…but…”

  Her face fell again.

  “…when it comes to you and me, there’s always going to be an element of discipline. I’m never going to let you get away with the sort of stuff that got you into trouble in the first place. The military is in my bones. Rules, order, consequences. They’re part of me. And anyone who wants to be with me is going to have to deal with that.”

  “Oh.” She got quiet. He didn’t blame her. He’d said a mouthful and some of it was pretty presumptuous. She hadn’t said she wanted to be with him. She probably just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to sell her story to some tabloid.

  “Anyway,” he said, handing her a plate of beans. “We have to get moving. Eat up.”

  Chapter Seven

  Get moving. That practically became the mantra for life with Paul as far as Chloe was concerned.

  They spent the next week moving from place to place, spending the days evading the ‘enemy’ troops that could be seen from time to time on a ridge on another hill, or sometimes even a little more nearby. One afternoon was spent beneath a craggy rock avoiding detection by a patrol that circled around them several times before leaving.

  Every night they zipped their sleeping bags together and slept with limbs entangled. More often than not, Chloe would rest her head on Paul’s chest, his arm draped over her body. The sex was limited, thanks to the circumstances of their situation, but a real intimacy was growing between them as they got to know one another more deeply.

  His iron discipline never wavered, but that didn’t mean he was cruel. Far from it. He took care of her as much as he could, always making sure she had enough to eat, pointing out any hazards on the trails, making sure she got most of the shade and if they were running low on water, most of the ration. Chloe had never imagined she would feel cherished while being marched through the lower steppes of a mountain range in the middle of nowhere, but she did.

  She started to look to Paul for practically everything. He was the one who decided where they slept, what they ate, even bathroom breaks and spots were decided by him. A lot of it was less than romantic, some of it was even embarrassing, like when he showed her how to dig a hole for her bowel movements. The fact that he knew where she was going when she would scuttle off a few yards with a shovel and a roll of super biodegradable toilet paper that also ended up in the hole left their relationship without the mystery of most early romances.

  A week in the wild was beginning to take its toll on Chloe. Her fascination, or even infatuation, with Paul was a welcome distraction, but that didn’t change the fact that she was pretty much always uncomfortable in some way. She was either hot or cold or itchy or hungry or tired… nothing came easy out there, and though Paul was doing his best to keep her in good shape, the fuse of her temper was getting shorter and shorter.

  The long walks gave her time to digest everything Paul had said. He didn’t talk much really, but when he did he really got straight to the point. After they’d slept together, he’d talked about them being together. He’d said he liked her. And the rest of it… the discipline part. Discipline wasn’t optional with him. What did that mean?

  Chloe’s feet carried her across the challenging terrain as her mind worked on the challenging problem of Paul. Now they’d stopped ascending and decided to head toward the checkpoint. That meant traveling along a heavily wooded ridge. Chloe found herself a little sad and nervous to be leaving the river. The supply of water had been a good thing, and a comfort too.

  “There’s a safe zone twenty miles this way,” Paul said over his shoulder.

  Chloe stopped and wiped the sweat from her brow. Safe zone? She hadn’t heard of any safe zones before. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a small campsite we can stay at and they can’t touch us.”

  “Isn’t that cheating?”

  He stopped and smiled at her. “We had a few safe zones during our escape, places we could resupply without worrying too much about being caught. This is a little bit like that. It’s not cheating. There’s a few of these places dotted around, but the deal is we only get one night. If we stay longer than that, we’re fair game.”

  “Wow, you all really organized this mindfuck for me, huh?”

  “I wouldn’t put it in those words,” he said, “but yes, this isn’t a random course. It’s been designed carefully.”

  “You didn’t tell me that there was a safe zone yesterday when you were yelling at me to run,” she said, pushing the point. “What else aren’t you telling me?”

  “It wouldn’t be something I’m not telling you if I told you, would it?” He winked at her. “Come on. Twenty more miles and we have a warm bed and a shower.”

  That sounded good. That sounded very, very good. Every step was another step closer to comfort, and as the day wore on and each of those steps grew harder to take, Chloe’s fantasies about the comfort waiting for her grew in proportion.

  She had a log cabin in her mind’s eye, one well-appointed with running water, if not electricity. A large fireplace, and a couch on which she and Paul could cuddle up together as the evening drew in. He’d said there was a bed, and though she knew it would not be as good as her bed at home, that was the bed her mind filled the imaginary cabin with, a super king expanse of Egyptian cotton comfort.

  The kind of hope that propelled her on was the sort of fragile hope that could easily be shattered. She knew it wasn’t realistic, but realism wasn’t keeping her going at that point. She was traveling on pure fantasy. So much so that when Paul stopped, she ran into the back of him and bounced back a step.

  “Here we are,” he said, grinning as if he had something to be happy about.

  “Where are we?” She frowned the question at him. As far as Chloe could tell, they weren’t anywhere notably different from anywhere else in the wooded hills. There were trees, leaves, rocks. There sure as hell weren’t any four-poster beds there.

  “The safe zone.”

  “But…” She looked around. “Where’s the cabin?”

  “I didn’t say there was a cabin.”

  “You said there was a warm bed. And a shower.”

  “Yup, a warm bed. We can have a fire here. So it won’t be as cold in the sleeping bags at night. And look. There’s the shower.” He pointed to a tree, where a contraption with a plastic bag holding some water was connected to a nozzle with a simple showerhead attachment. “They’ve even dropped us a cooler with some hot meals.”

  Chloe’s jaw dropped as pure disappointment flooded her body and brain. “You… asshole!”

  Paul’s eyes narrowed to two bright green slits. “Excuse me, young lady?”

  “This isn’t a shower. This is a plastic bag with holes in it.”

  “It’s a camp shower.”

  “It’s fucking bullshit, that’s what it is,” she swore as her temper flared. “What the fuck, Paul?!”

  His scowl almost brought her temper tantrum to a halt. Almost. She knew she shouldn’t be cursing him out, but dammit, she was deeply disappointed and so tired, and so in need of some real comfort. She just couldn’t do another night sleeping rough.

  “Settle down,” he said, his deep timbre sounding further warning.

  “No!” She stamped her foot. “You lied to me!”

  “What did you think this place was going to be like? A five-star hotel?”

  “No, but I didn’t think it was going to be a… less than no-star hotel!”

  He burst out laughing at her “You’re so
damn spoiled,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “We’ve got real food to eat here, beds that are off the ground, we’ve even got heat and the chance to get properly clean. It’s better in every way than it’s been for seven days and you’re not happy.”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m spoiled because I don’t think a bag of water with holes in it is something to celebrate.”

  “I don’t think that’s it.”

  “Yeah?”

  His face was a mask of determination as he ground the words out. “I think you need another spanking.”

  “That is definitely not it!”

  “I think it is. I think you’re testing me.”

  “Why would I do that?” She threw her hands up in dramatic fashion. “You were whipping me with a tree the other day. Why would I test you today!”

  “Because we slept together since then,” he said. “And sex changes things. Maybe you’re wondering if it changed you getting your butt spanked when you need it.”

  “I’m wondering if you’ve lost your damn mind,” she grumbled, sitting down on her hands, as if doing that could protect her from his disciplinary intentions.

  It didn’t work. Paul put his pack down, sat on it, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, and pulled her over his lap as if she weighed nothing and had even less say in what happened to her butt. Her leggings were of no use to her; he peeled those and her panties down in one rough tug that left her butt and upper thighs exposed to his disciplinary gaze.

  His palm landed on her butt with a hard slap that made her yelp loudly. She’d forgotten how much spankings could hurt. Aside from that first day, she’d managed to avoid getting into real trouble with Paul.

  It didn’t take more than half a dozen swats to remind her why she had been relatively polite up until that point. He was making her butt burn with repeated slaps to her bare cheeks that swiftly made her reverse her position on the campsite and even the stupid shower in a bag.

  “Ow! I’m sorry! Alright! I’m sorry!”

  “You’re sorry you’re being spanked,” he pointed out astutely.

  “I’m not sorry I’m being spanked, that doesn’t even make sense! You’re the one doing it!” She threw the logic back at him, knowing it would probably earn her a few more hard slaps—which it did.

  “Is being a little smart-ass working for you?” He made the inquiry relatively gently, his palm smoothing over her stinging cheeks. “Or is that your way of telling me you need something more?”

  “I don’t need more! This is enough!”

  “Is it?” He started spanking her again, not as hard as before, but heavy, thudding strokes that made her cheeks jiggle and forced her down and forward over his lap every time they landed. These ones were easier to bear, though they were building into a deeper ache that formed an unholy alliance with the surface sting to make Chloe feel as if her whole bottom were ablaze.

  “Please, Paul!” She tried pleading with him again. “I’m sorry, okay? It was a shock to get here, that’s all.”

  “Shock or not, you don’t speak to me that way, you understand?” His palm caught the underside of her left cheek with a swift, stinging slap that was quickly repeated on her right. He seemed to know a million ways to make her butt sore, and was using them all on her now.

  “Yessir!” Her voice climbed in pitch as her hips wriggled frantically. She couldn’t see her bottom, but she was pretty sure it was getting close to emergency flare red. “I promise I won’t again!”

  To her great relief, he stopped spanking her then and began to rub her bottom gently. “Nobody has ever spanked you. I mean, other than me, have they?”

  “No,” she scowled. “Of course they haven’t.”

  His palm spread across her blazing bottom, his long fingers cupping the entirety of her cheek. “That’s a pity.”

  “Not from where I’m not sitting it isn’t.”

  “Cute,” he said, tapping her bottom lightly. “But I mean it. Discipline is important. People who never get to experience it either end up being too harsh on themselves to make up for it, or going totally off the rails in the instinctive hope of finding it.”

  “Which one am I?”

  “A bit of both, I think.”

  He barely knew her at all, and yet he seemed to know her so very well. Chloe was suddenly glad to be over his lap, looking down at the rocky ground below. It gave her a little bit of a sort of privacy to process what he was saying. Her hips were squirming under his hand, her lower lips drenched with her need. But he wasn’t interested in her physical reaction right then. He wanted to know more about her. He sat her up on his lap, her tender cheeks feeling the rough surface of his pants beneath her reddened skin.

  “So where are your parents in all of this? You’re not so old someone shouldn’t be looking after you.”

  “You don’t want to hear that story,” she said, shaking her head.

  “I really do.”

  Maybe it was the genuine note of inquiry in his voice. Maybe she was just feeling small and tired and sore. Maybe she was relieved to have an excuse to tell him the story Chase had told her never to tell anyone. It didn’t make her sound wholesome.

  “I don’t talk to them anymore,” she said. “They were never married. My mom was a cheerleader, my dad was the quarterback. They were still in high school when she got pregnant. I ruined her chances at college and my dad left us when I was two.”

  Her story was paused for a moment, and she couldn’t meet his gaze, too embarrassed by being spanked for being a brat and now telling him where she really came from.

  “Are you sure you want to hear this?” She mumbled the question toward his chest.

  “Yes,” he said, his voice warm as he ran his hand over her still sore cheeks.

  “They both met new people and started new families. They swapped custody of me every year. Neither one of them could wait to get rid of me. When I ran away to Los Angeles the day after I turned eighteen, they didn’t even look for me. I didn’t hear from them until I got my first big movie role. Then they suddenly wanted to see me at Christmas,” she snorted and shook her head. “So like an idiot, I went back. Two Christmas dinners with each of their families. At least my mom had the decency to ask me for money at the beginning of the night. Dad pretended we were going to be one big happy family right up until I said I wouldn’t buy him a new truck.” Her face twisted with emotional pain. “He called me a lot of things and told me to get the hell out.”

  “I’m sorry,” Paul said. “That’s rough. You deserved better than that.”

  “Did I?” Chloe shrugged. “I don’t know. I turned out alright, I guess, so it can’t have been that bad.”

  “You turned out wonderfully,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t bad. Sometimes people turn out well in spite of, not because of what they’ve had to deal with.”

  She nodded, thinking that what he said made a lot of sense.

  “How did you get this smart about stuff like that?”

  “I’ve looked after a lot of men and women,” Paul said. “Young ones. Packs of teenagers freshly drafted and totally out of their depths. You get to learn to see into the past from the present. The ones who learned to trust authority when they were young fall into line, round pegs in round holes. The ones who haven’t are either very compliant, or total miscreants who end up being dragged into line—or tossed out.”

  “So that’s me,” she said. “A miscreant. You’ve got me all figured out.”

  “Oh, I don’t have you even halfway figured out,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re no typical spoiled brat. You’ve worked hard. Made smart choices. Achieved things most people only ever dream of. But you’re not happy.”

  “I’m not happy right now because I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere living in third world conditions,” she muttered, bringing their conversation full circle.

  “I don’t think that’s it,” he said, patting her bottom. “But we need to get some food and some
sleep. The safe zone evaporates at six in the morning, and I want us to be well out of here by then. Do you think you’re done pitching a fit?”

  “Yes,” she mumbled, blushing. It was so hard to deal with, the way Paul made her feel. Sometimes she wanted to tell him to fuck off and not tell her what to do anymore, but then he did something like this, spanked her bottom long and hard and then picked her up and talked to her with more interest in her real life than anyone ever had and she felt like melting into him and never leaving his side.

  He must have sensed her vulnerability in that moment, because not only did he not slide her off his lap, he didn’t let her pull her leggings and panties up either. He kept her sitting there on his knee, bare bottomed as they ate the meals that had been dropped for them, which turned out to be meatloaf. Chloe wouldn’t have touched a bite of the stuff if she were at home, but her hunger had taught her not to turn her nose up at food out there in the wild, especially hot food.

  After they ate, she sat and watched as Paul built a fire. He was obviously practiced at it, and it only seemed to take ten minutes or so before the first flames were licking at the wood inside the circle of rocks he’d constructed to keep things safe.

  He spread their sleeping bags out next to the flames and patted the soft surface in an invitation for Chloe to join him. She did gladly, lying next to him with her head on his chest as together they watched the fire burn into the gathering twilight.

  His hands roamed her body gently, stroking along her back and thighs, her bottom, which was not nearly as sore as it had been. Chloe felt a slow arousal starting to tingle through her nethers. Her body responded to him with a powerful instinct, which made her wet long before his fingers found the hot core of her. She was still devoid of any clothing on the lower part of her body. As his long digits stroked over the curve of her bottom, she parted her thighs, hoping he would touch her there.