Read Online Dr Casswell's Student by Sarah Fisher - Free Book Online Page A

was as broad as a human hand with a short flexible handle. Sarah stared at it, and then at him.
    ‘What’s that for?’ she whispered, though she had already guessed.
    Casswell’s expression hardened. ‘You will learn not to be so curious or so quick to speak. Bend over the desk. You need to be punished.’
    Sarah gasped. ‘Punished? But what have I done?’
    Casswell sighed. ‘It’s a question of attitude, Sarah. Your ridiculous attempt at flirtation is a case in point.’ He indicated the bundle of underwear she held in her hands. ‘And those—’
    ‘But I didn’t know—’ Sarah began, but the doctor’s face was impassive. It seemed ignorance of the house rules was no defence. He indicated the desk. She slowly backed up until her buttocks rested on the very edge of the polished mahogany.
    Casswell’s expression and tone hardened. ‘Please, Miss Morgan, don’t toy with me. Turn around and lift up your skirt!’
    Sarah shivered. Although his voice was not raised there was an authoritative edge to it that was impossible to ignore. She did as he commanded, and then waited anxiously while he examined his prize.
    When the blow came the severity took her breath away. The leather paddle hit her low on the buttocks, making her shriek with pain. The sensation was more diffused than the crop. From the corner of her eye she caught sight of Casswell an instant before he hit her again. He was a man entranced, caught up in the strange enchantment that Beatrice had so eloquently described.
    ‘A dozen, I think,’ he murmured, as the paddle found its mark again.
    Sarah slumped forward, supporting her weight on her forearms, while between her legs the growing mixture of pleasure and pain was almost more than she could bear.
    Casswell smiled as the paddle exploded across Sarah’s pink flesh. Leaning over the desk, breathing hard, with her skirt gathered up around her waist, she was a compelling sight. Her buttocks were rounded and full, a delightful contrast to her narrow waist. Both orbs glowed, the livid blush cut here and there by the kiss of the crop from the night before. Between the curves, as she struggled to regain her composure, he could see tantalising glimpses of her sex; plump, ripe, and ready. It would be easy to move closer, slide a hand between those firm thighs and bring her to the climax her body demanded and she so richly deserved. And yet he denied her, and himself, that release.
    He dropped the paddle to the floor and ordered her to stand and turn around. She looked contrite, but the downcast eyes and flushed cheeks did nothing to fool him. She could not disguise the way her nipples jutted forward through the thin fabric of her blouse, dark and ripe as rosebuds, any more than she had been able to disguise the wet folds of her quim, glistening with excitement as she had writhed and twisted away from the paddle. Sarah Morgan was such a find, such a treasure.
    Casswell beckoned her a little closer and idly traced one of her nipples through the sheer blouse. She rewarded him with the softest of moans. Her eyes closed and her moist lips peeled apart. Beneath his fingertips he could feel her trembling.
    ‘Have you a jacket?’ he asked quietly.
    She nodded.
    ‘Go and fetch it, and I’ll ask Chang to find you some stockings. We’ll be eating at the Boar’s Head, in Brenwell.’
    Sarah opened her eyes and looked at him. ‘We’re eating out?’
    Casswell nodded, choosing to ignore the surprise in her tone.
    ‘Sarah,’ he said in a voice that allowed for no contradictions. ‘I expect to be obeyed without question and, from now on, I expect you to remain silent unless spoken to.’ He waved her away, aware of the flash of indignation in the young woman’s eyes. ‘Don’t be long,’ he added as she moved unsteadily for the door.
    Ten minutes later Sarah was seated in the car beside him, and they were heading down a narrow country lane towards a hamlet that nestled in the wooded valley below Casswell