Page 2 of Thwack!

“Sit down. We’re not done yet.”

Their hour wasn’t up, but what was the point in staying if Dr. Davies couldn’t help him? But Dr. Davies gave him a particularly stern look, so he sat down.

“What I would suggest in your case is an alternative therapeutic style I sometimes practice, a sort of regression therapy where we return to the original source of your problems and correct them, retroactively as it were.”

“Really?” That sounded great. “Like, we get some Power Rangers tablecloths and take them to Chuck E. Cheese?”

“Not quite like that.” Dr. Davies smiled, a secretive, speculative smile that gave Cooper shivers. His enthusiasm for the new therapy dampened. He wasn’t sure he was going to like it.

“I don’t know. You really think it’ll help?”

“It’s worth a try.” Dr. Davies shrugged lightly. “I have nothing else to offer you, and you’ve made the rounds of the therapeutic community. If you’re ever going to improve, a new approach is needed. Difficult cases like yours require more drastic measures.”

Yeah, that was the ticket. Cooper’s case was difficult. He’d always known it, and now at last someone was acknowledging it. His prior therapists had all acted like he was a bit of a drama queen.

“Okay. Let’s do it.” He sat up straighter, excited to get started, especially when Dr. Davies smiled at him again. A really happy smile this time, like Dr. Davies was as excited to get started as he was.

“Excellent. If you’ll please disrobe and arrange yourself on the exam table.” He gestured at the corner of the room where a thin, presumably padded slab of fake leatherette stood at about waist height with a sheet of paper covering it, just like in a regular doctor’s office. Cooper had always wondered why a therapist would have an exam table. And why on earth would he need to get naked?

“Um.”

“Briskly,” Dr. Davies said as he took off his jacket and began rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. “You only have half an hour left,” he added with a glance at the watch on his left wrist, “and we’ll need every minute of it.”

Cooper dallied for a moment to admire Dr. Davies’s forearms, which were nicely veined and covered in a light coat of hair, but a stern frown from Dr. Davies had him moving toward the exam table.

“You can leave your clothes on the couch.”

He wavered between the couch and the exam table, irresolute, but ultimately he reached for the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Then he kicked off his sneakers and shucked his sweatpants. He dropped everything in an untidy pile on the couch and made another move toward the exam table.

“Underpants too.”

“Um,” he said again. The word underpants sounded so juvenile for one thing. And taking them off seemed too intimate and revealing for another.

“Briskly,” Dr. Davies reminded him. He had both sleeves rolled all the way up and was standing next to the exam table, pulling on a pair of blue latex gloves. It seemed Cooper really was going to get an exam. A naked exam.

Well, Dr. Davies was a good-looking guy. Maybe Cooper wouldn’t mind being examined by him. And the way he was looking at Cooper right now, super sternly and a little disapprovingly, made Cooper want to obey him. If you couldn’t be intimate and revealing with your therapist, then who could you be intimate and revealing with? No one. Which was exactly his trouble.

So he shucked his boxers and dropped them onto the pile. Then he climbed onto the exam table and sat with his legs dangling over the end, nervous about what was going to come next.

“Lie down,” Dr. Davies ordered. “On your stomach.”

Lie down on his stomach? What kind of exam was Dr. Davies planning to give him?

Being on his stomach would at least hide his junk, which would be just as well since his dick was beginning to chub up, so he rotated face down and stretched out on the table. Of course this position put his ass on display, but he’d always been told he had a nice ass. Dr. Davies made a sound of approval, as if he were thinking the same thing. Then he touched the ass in question.

Cooper jerked, surprised and a little alarmed to feel his therapist’s glove-covered hand tap his right butt cheek.

“This will hurt a little,” Dr. Davies warned. “But nothing has ever been gained by taking the easy way.”

“What’s going to hurt?” Cooper asked, but his question was answered before he’d even finished asking it when Dr. Davies’s hand stopped tapping and started smacking.

“Ow,” he complained, reaching back to touch the spot where Dr. Davies had slapped him as if to verify it had really happened. “What did you do that for?”

“Because you deserve it.” Dr. Davies moved Cooper’s hand out of the way so he could bring his own down again. “And because you need it. You’ve been waiting your whole life to have someone do this.”

Cooper had never been spanked as a child because his parents didn’t believe in it. The worst punishment he’d ever gotten was a stern talking-to and a five-minute timeout. Mostly his parents had tried to explain why he ought to do something or not do something or whatever. Then they’d apologized for making him cry and given him a treat.

“Spanking is barbaric.” He twisted on the thin paper covering of the exam table, trying to get away from the onslaught. “Doctor!” he squeaked.