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“Oh, yes I am, with your bottom red, your pussy hot, and your desires in flames. Living through Reggie’s punishment is gonna look easy compared to this.”
I stood there in a face smudged, hair mussed, flaming hot state of disarray, as Will gave me the most devastatingly triumphant smirk and walked out my door.
Chapter Twelve
“Is there any way you’ll consent to see me?” I asked Reggie over the phone, one week later.
“Why?” he asked.
“I have to talk to someone, and I don’t know if anyone else could even begin to understand.”
“You should just talk to Will,” he countered. “It’s about him, isn’t it?”
“Reggie, please.” It seemed utterly stupid to plead with this man, but I actually won him over.
“How about a bowl of soup at the cafe across from the office, tomorrow noon?” he suggested, though he didn’t really sound all that pleased about it.
“I’ll be there,” I replied. “And thank you.”
***
In the cafe the next day, I sat down gingerly on the seat across from Reggie.
“Do I detect a sore bottom?” he asked.
“Very.”
“So, how’s it going?” He was cool, but not unfriendly, his disposition could go either way; it was always hard to tell what the man had on his mind.
“Horrible.”
“Tell me,” he asked curiously.
“You sent him the implements,” I complained.
Reggie smiled pleased. “I thought you’d like that. Did Will?”
I maintained a dour look on my face. “He started with the paddle first, in fact, that seems to be a real favorite.”
“The hardest to take,” he observed.
“Last night, he used all three, one right after another, as if I could stand it.”
“And you did,” he pointed out. “You’re here, aren’t you? Isn’t Will everything you wanted?” Reggie asked.
“I used to think so,” I replied.
“And not now?”
“Frankly, I’m getting a load more sympathy from you right now than I’ve gotten from Will the whole week, and you’re hardly being sympathetic. I’m beginning to wonder if I haven’t made a mistake.”
“About what?” he asked.
“About Will, what else! Three times, he’s punished me in six days, and it’s nothing but hard, fast and cruel. He’s so ruthless with the paddle, I almost beg him to use the strap. But then that can cut like a knife. The only thing he’s not so sure of is the cane. I think he’s actually afraid of that, but he certainly makes up for it with the others. And that doesn’t even mention, his hand and the hairbrush.”
Reggie hardly looked sympathetic.
“With you it was rough,” I went on. “But there was some kindness, or sex or something. I mean, at least recently.”
