Page 25 of Broken Bride


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And I’m not going to let this happen.

I race into the room, my jaw still aching from his rough treatment, and I jump on his back, grabbing his arm.

“NO!” I shout, as if he is a particularly vicious dog. Angelo tries to dislodge me, but I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck and I hold on for dear fucking life.

Mark pushes up from the desk, turning to look at us with an expression of red-faced shock. His hands are bound, and he can’t help.

For a second, I think Bobby might come to Angelo’s aid, but after staring at us tousling for a second, with Angelo unable to wrest me from his back, he just starts laughing uproariously.

I have Angelo in a headlock. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to do a very good headlock. In the movies, you just squeeze and they drop. It’s not working on him. I’m just stuck up there, atop him, riding a very unimpressed male mount.

After a minute or so of trying to unsuccessfully dislodge me, Angelo stops and stands still.

“Let go of me, Tilly,” he says with calm authority.

“No!”

“Let go, and I won’t use this cane on you. I’ll choose a lighter one for your punishment.”

With those words, I find myself frozen on his back, my limbs locked. Angelo is offering me a deal, but he is a devil and I know how those deals pan out. I’ll stay here like a koala forever if I have to.

* * *

Angelo

I could get her off me if I wanted to. I could snap a finger and she’d go tumbling from my shoulders screaming for mercy. Contrary to popular opinion in this house, I’m not a monster. My life is actually one long act of mercy.

She feels like a small beast. Soft. Warm. She has all those curves. She barely weighs a thing. I could carry her around all day if necessary — and it might be necessary.

I have just made Tilly’s life very difficult. If she gets down, she knows she’s getting caned. And if she doesn’t, she also knows she’s getting caned. It’s a particularly simple Catch-22, and it has her paralyzed.

“Okay,” she says, her breath hot on my ear as she starts to try to bargain. “Can we just all agree that this has gotten out of hand, and maybe, I don't know, reset?”

“No.”

“If I let you go, will you promise nobody is going to get punished?”

She tries again, as if asking the question twice will result in a different answer.

I look at Mark. "You see what happens when you embolden a girl like this? Now Tilly is going to have to have her pretty bottom caned, because you couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

“Angelo…” Mark sighs. “Bobby, cut these ties.”

Bobby helps Mark before I can object. Mark pulls his hands back around and rubs his wrists, leaning back against the desk before sharply pulling away as his punished ass presses against hard wood.

“Tilly, get down from Angelo,” he says.

“But…”

“Just get down.”

She listens to Mark. I feel her arms loosen from my neck, and then her legs. She slides the short distance to the ground, and sensibly tries to make a run for it.

“Uh uh,” I say, catching her by the sleeve and pulling her back. “I am not done with you, young lady.”

“Angelo… please!” She begs me with wide eyes and just a hint of whine in her tone. “I’m sorry. I just… you know… I… you. You were hitting him! For nothing! Mark is the nicest man here. You don’t deserve him. You don’t deserve any of us.”

From whining to attack, she pivots on a dime. I could get whiplash from the way this girl’s moods swing.

“This is the first time you’ve seen how our world works, Tilly — and felt it for yourself. This is not a relationship. This is not a democracy. This is not any paradigm you might think you understand. This is…”

“Tyranny," she hisses. “You’re a tyrant. You're not that new or interesting, Angelo. I’ve seen tyrants before. My father was a tyrant. And do you know what? His brains ended up in his favorite teacup. So maybe you should be more careful.”

* * *

Tilly

The room goes silent. Super, ultra still, silent.

I look around, and I realize that what I said apparently hit a nerve.

Bobby is looking at me with an intensity I don’t quite understand, the corner of his mouth curled up ever so slightly into what might be a smile, but probably isn’t. Mark is looking at me with a kind of stunned shock, and Angelo…

Angelo is looking at me as if he loves me. I feel a sudden warmth from him, a sort of enveloping energy which wraps all the way around me and makes me feel so deeply wanted.

“You’re threatening me,” he says. “How cute.”

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