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“And the spanking changed that?”
“It did. For a time.”
“So, Gail Henry, you need a man to lay down the law? To check up on you, to father you, punish you and take control?”
I sighed, “I think so.”
“And you want me for that?”
I shook my head, “I’m not sure.”
The quiet swallowed us inside the silence. Our hushed words seemed almost inappropriate in the middle of this tense moment. I think we could have communicated as well with our eyes, but KC didn’t agree. He wanted me to say it in plain English. He seemed to climb inside my body and walk around looking for clues to determine my need. And yet, he knew exactly what I wanted, and so did I.
“So what are you sure of, Gail?”
I took a deep breath. “That now would be a very good time for you to punish me.”
“And that will cure you of your troubles?”
“It might be a start.”
He shrugged as I remembered him doing before, and hopped off the platform. Moving through his tangle of scenery, hunting for something, he came back with a two-inch slat of wood. It was flat, polished and about two feet long. I had no idea what it had been used for, but I understood its function now.
“Take off your pants.”
I jumped from the platform, kicked off my flats, and quickly struggled my way out of the stretchy material. Meanwhile, KC pulled a sawhorse into the empty space. Once I was down to my red silk panties, he nodded to the device, “Over the end.”
I wanted to say something like, “You sure don’t waste any time,” or “Is the sawhorse really necessary?” But I kept quiet and complied, positioning myself over the bar, my feet on either side of the inverted “V”.
“Oh, no,” he said seeing my stance. “Your panties down.”
He moved to my ass, while I put my feet together, then he brusquely tugged the waistband of my underwear and jerked them down. I spasmed, my pussy jarring as the power in his hand moved through me as stunningly erotic as if he were teasing my clit.
Stepping back, KC brandished his slat. I felt the air stir and the wood strike. Then, I jumped as the impact stung my ass. I bit my lip to prevent my cry. The next cut was just as intense as were the ones that followed in rapid-fire succession until my ass was ablaze, my feet were dancing, and I began my breathless, throaty cries. “Ah, sheesh, awwwww, yeeeeouch.” I moved so much he had to stop.
“Settle down, Gail. Now!”
It was an order I followed, spoken with an intensity of command that tore through my body as intently as the slat that ripped my skin.
“You’re being punished, you deserve it, and I won’t stop until I’m ready to. That clear?”
“Yes,” I answered meekly, while I was trying to figure why I’d initiated this scene. My pondering didn’t last too long, though; he whacked all my brooding thoughts from me, delivering a second round of punishment more painful than the first. Of course, it would be more painful! Spreading out across my ass, the flames of fire darted deeply under tissue, veins and surfaces, hitting sensitive nerves, lighting a ruthless fire of need and anguish that had me almost crazy for him to stop. Whether KC had some sympathy for the pain I was suffering, or he simply stopped because he wanted to, I’m not sure. I was only glad that he was done when he finally tossed the slat aside.
He stood back. I waited. My submissive pose became more intrusive in the empty interim. I expected he would be on me sexually, but he didn’t make a move. He finally spoke, however, “Up, Gail.”
I was on my feet, turning around, and breathing a deep sigh, while the fire in my ass was raging through me at lightning speed. I needed some alleviation for my arousal, but I didn’t get what I wanted this time.
“We’re not going to have sex again until you get this figured out,” he informed me. I’m sure I looked disappointed. “But you are going to straighten out your life. Do you need me to stand over you?”
“Would you do that?” I wondered.
“I probably would. I have no problem making your ass burn. Feels damn good to me. If this is what you need daily, I can handle it. Why don’t you think on it…sit on that ass and dwell on your desires—and not just the sexual ones? I think you have hell of a lot more going on than being a lazy, irresponsible, irritable drunk—which you really aren’t. Get some answers figured out, Gail, then come back and see me.”
Chapter Four
My body and heart dwelt on the question KC raised, but I had no immediate answer. I did pull myself back together, treating my life less recklessly than I had in previous weeks. In the back of my thoughts I could feel his final commands helping me keep focused; but it was not enough—not stern, harsh or determined enough to answer my inner turmoil. After a few days, I found myself beginning to slip back…I needed KC more. Even though, I was reluctant to see him.
Sure that he’d be questioning me if I suddenly showed up at the theatre, I avoided returning. And yet, as before, the more I stayed away, the more the drive to see him increased. Two weeks after our last meeting, I caught the theatre review in the paper for his latest show. Acting on impulse, I decided to go. Maybe if I had no answers for him, just being in the theatre would jar something loose.
