Shadow Lane Volume 7: How Cute Is That? A Novel of Spanking, Sex and Love. Eve Howard
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“I do wish that we were better suited to each other. But since we’re obviously not, I was wondering whether you would mind if I got in contact with the company that shot your video, so that I could make a tape of my own?”
After two seconds of silence Julian laughed. “You little brat,” he murmured, though not disrespectfully.
“But, why?” Zoe smiled at her own genius.
“I think we’re perfectly suited to each other,” he said evenly. “You just need to be taught better manners.”
“By you?” she laughed, remembering how rudely he had taken her home.
“When can I see you again?”
“I really don’t think –” she began to demur but he interrupted her firmly.
“Never mind that, you’ve won the round and I acknowledge it.”
“But, about the corner time...”
“I’ll never mention it again.”
“It really hurt my feelings being taken home like that,” she declared. “I cried myself to sleep.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, thinking of a shopping trip.
“I was ready to let you make love to me in any way you liked.”
“If I acted like an idiot, it’s only because I’ve been spoiled by well-trained B&D club submissives. Did you really cry yourself to sleep?”
“I hope you don’t like that idea.”
“I do find it very sexy, but I’m sorry about last night.”
Zoe paused a moment before speaking. At least he had said he was sorry at last.
“How did you intend to make it up to me?” she asked casually.
“By indulging you completely the next time we meet.”
“In your examining room?” she asked with shy excitement. Julian looked at the receiver with surprise.
“Is that your idea of total indulgence?” he laughed. “I was thinking more in terms of a trip to Christian Dior and a weekend getaway to a five-star inn.”
“It would be too early to commit to a weekend,” she pointed out sensibly. “And that kind of shopping trip sounds like you’d own my soul afterwards.”
“So you want to see my examining room, do you?” Julian was charmed.
“Yes.”
“You know what will happen when I get you in there, don’t you?”
“No.”
“Well, for one thing, you’ll have to do a better job of obeying me than you did last night.”
“Or else what?”
“Or else I’ll spank you a lot harder next time and whip your bottom too.”
A moment’s silence ensued. Then Zoe said, “I don’t mind that.”
“You just don’t want to stand in the corner.”
“Right.”
“Anything else I should know?”
“If I think of anything, I’ll tell you.”
“I’m sure you will.”
Zoe got her trip to Christian Dior and the weekend at a Santa Barbara inn, with the office visit between, beginning on the following Saturday afternoon.
Julian explained that he couldn’t take her back to the office and expect complete privacy until after four, so after picking her up at her house, they drove directly to Rodeo Drive and Julian dragged her into three or four stores. Zoe stood speechless as he conferred quickly and authoritatively with sales women about gown sets, corsets, dresses and shoes. Nothing was tried on after she was judged to be a size 4 who looked best in creams and beiges. Charge cards came out and purchases were made.
He then conducted Zoe, who now felt loved, to his office on Roxbury Drive.
They passed through a large, elegant waiting room and into a dignified consultation room, with dark green walls and book-lined shelves.
“Have a seat,” said Julian, going behind his large desk and motioning her to the chair before it. “I’ve got some questions I want to ask you.”
Zoe obeyed him while looking around with great interest.
“Any persistent health problems, Miss Miller?” he asked, opening a folder and tagging a chart with her name.
“No. Except for headaches.”
“Do you have a headache now?”
“No.”
“What do you think causes them?”
“Stress.”
“Well, Miss Miller, you probably can’t reduce the stress in your life, but giving up cigarettes and reducing your caffeine intake may help. I also recommend a detox session, which I do have time to administer now.”
Zoe stared at him wordlessly.
“Do you elect to receive the treatment?” he asked, pushing a piece of paper across the desktop for her signature.
“I do,” she agreed shakily, taking up a pen and signing her name at the bottom of the proffered medical form.
“In that case, young lady, you may precede me into the examining room and remove your clothes. I’ll join you presently.”
Zoe looked at the door but didn’t move. “Now?”
“Yes, now.”
Julian’s examining room was the type that had been designed to impress stylish, young Beverly Hills matrons. Even the fresh, cream cotton robe that had been set out for her behind the dressing screen bore a Fernando Sanchez insignia. This Zoe pulled on over her sheer beige bra and panties, leaving the rest of her clothes folded in a wooden cupboard.
She had a moment or two to wander around the ebony and cherry wood paneled room with its fascinating examining table and chair.
Discreetly framed on one wall was a gallery of beautiful female faces, the “after” photos of many of the subjects he had worked on. Julian’s specialty was eyes and he did admirable work. Zoe was examining the portraits when he entered.
“Miss Miller, are we going to have problems so soon? Didn’t I tell you to get completely undressed?”
“But it was such a