“Bend over,” he said. I bent over and rested my hands on the second step of the stairs. I felt John lift my flimsy dress to reveal my arse and pus...y lips to the front door. I squealed when his hand came down hard on my bare flesh. I could hear him taking deep breaths as once more his hand contacted with my bare arse. This time I flinched and my body arched forward trying, in desperation, to avoid or minimise the contact and pain. It didn’t work. It hurt just as much. “That’s for asking me to. ‘Oh Doc, if this is your idea of therapy, sign me up for a lifetime membership!’ he cracked, his face now showing a little less control. She stood up straight again and removed her heels. Then she turned and sat down on the desk as she pulled one of her stocking-covered legs up to her body and then raised it into the air. ‘You’re not a foot man are you?’ she asked, as she held her leg up with one hand and pointed her foot. ‘I’ll fuck your feet or anything else you got, Doc.’ he replied, an edgy. More

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