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He hated profanity, so this was inspiration for more.
The strikes continued in bold and brilliant form; then with a flourish of six heavily laid on swats he was finished. Laying the paddle on a chair, Rossi returned to place his hand on the girl’s hot behind.
“You’ll stay in the corner until I tell you, you can go.”
This miserable practice was expected, but that fact did nothing to assuage her humiliation.
“I should do this to you occasionally,” Rossi told Meredith as they viewed the punished buttocks mirthfully, and the skin paled over the ensuing minutes.
The distraught young woman might have quit the scene over this humiliating exposition, but she’d become tied so closely to the man and his methods that there was no way she would ever rebel—not in her present state of mind. The submissiveness was in her blood, as though second nature. And she drew from it contentment she’d not ever felt. That Rossi controlled her life made living so much easier, even if it meant enduring this kind of indignity.
“Is that the way you’re feeling now, content?” KC asked me.
“Yes, it is,” I answered him, my voice hardly audible. “More than I’ve been in a long time.” I stared into his eyes feeling rather weak and lifeless. These confessions took energy, as though I had to draw from a deep well, and though they came pouring out, the effort to draw them to the surface still took work.
“And your work?” he wondered
We didn’t talk much about work. KC assumed I was more productive, but he didn’t question me like a parent. True, I was much more focused on my projects, my energies were less restless and apt to spin in a hundred useless directions. However, I still felt as though my life was slipping from me, and I was holding on, grasping with my the nails while they were slowly breaking away.
“It’s not working, is it?”
“What’s not working? Of course you and I are working,” I’m sure I sounded desperate. “Aren’t we?”
He snickered mischievously. “Of course we are,” he said to placate my anxiety. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“Talk about what later?”
“The ongoing dilemma inside your head,” he said, as he rose from the chair and pulled me to my feet. “Now, you have to go. I have a rehearsal starting in about twenty minutes; I can already hear my troop making merry. I’ve got a lot of ass to kick tonight, I’m sure you’re not going to want to be around.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I returned playfully. “It might be fun to see you vent your wrath on someone else.”
He gave me a sideways glance. “I’m not hard on you at all, Miss Henry,” he declared “But if you want hard, I’m sure I can give you that, too.”
“No, no, not now,” I said good-naturedly. “I’m exhausted, though I bet by the time you’re done tonight, I’ll be ready for… you know… anything?”
“Asking a lot, aren’t you?”
“I’m not asking for anything at all, I’m just letting you know I’d be more than willing.”
He pushed me out the door gently, and I scampered through the black box quickly, nodding to his troop of players. I waited in the hallway before exiting the building, listening to the man scold, lecture and vilify his cast until I was sure they’d all be weeping. Maybe it was just an act, I wondered. Maybe that’s all KC Gable was.
Yes, I was content. This relationship could go on like this forever and I’d be very happy.
Chapter Eight
I was doing dishes in my apartment, just rinsing the sink when I heard the buzz. It was KC on the intercom, “Got jeans on?” he asked.
“Yes, in fact I do.”
“Great. Grab your jacket and come down here.”
My interest piqued and my panties started to get wet. I did as I was told, racing down two flights of stairs seeing KC at the bottom, waiting.
“Have you been on a bike before?”
“Bike, yes, of course,” we were starting for the door, “no, wait!” I stopped. “You mean motorcycle?”
“The only bike I have, hon.”
