by Thianna D
"Positive," Kelli murmured as she followed Elly into the next room and took a seat beside her. Then, in an unexpected move, Kelli clasped Elly's wrist. Surprised, Elly's first instinct was to pull away, but for all its gentleness, Kelli's grip was surprisingly strong. Unfortunately, Elly didn't like her arms or hands restrained.
Kelli glanced down as she pushed Elly's sleeve back, and Elly renewed her efforts to be free. "Your pulse is racing, dear. Are you afraid?"
"No. Of course not. I just don't like having my wrists touched."
With a nod, Kelli released Elly's hand. "Would you prefer another mentor?" When Elly shook her head in reply, Kelli continued. "The reason I ask is because I don't think you're comfortable enough to be truthful with me. Perhaps you'd rather have someone younger?"
"No. I mean, why would you think so?"
Kelli nodded toward Elly's bruised wrists. "Is Arthur abusing you?"
The blood drained from Elly's face. "Of course not. We had a simple misunderstanding is all. I would never accuse him of abuse. Who said such a thing?"
"Is he overly strict with you?"
"No, not really. I don't understand, Kelli, why—"
"Your wrists show signs of resistance. Were you trying to get free?"
Elly blinked back her tears. The handcuffs Arthur used weren't padded, and she had struggled, but that was her fault, not his. He needed to be strict with her, so she'd learn how to be a wife he could be proud of. She promptly covered her wrists again with her sleeves. "He warned me not to struggle, but sometimes I can't help myself. He didn't mean for this to happen."
"So, it was an accident?"
Nodding, Elly added, "I need to be more accepting of his discipline. He only wants what is best for me."
"And does he take care of you afterward?"
Elly hesitated for a moment, then nodded again. Arthur often had sex with her after a discipline session, though he didn't always remove the cuffs and her gag until he was through.
"Do you enjoy your DD relationship with your husband?"
Blinking, Elly wondered what part about domestic discipline she was supposed to enjoy. Did anyone actually enjoy getting spanked? Not in her opinion, they didn't. She certainly didn't enjoy Arthur's punishments. Did she deserve his discipline? Most times, yes. Did she love him? She tried to, but his strict inflexibility angered her sometimes. He'd changed once they'd moved to Corbin's Bend, but he'd said she'd become lazy and disorganized and needed a firmer hand now. Where was the enjoyment in that? "I think the discipline is what I need to be a better person," she answered carefully.
"But you can't say you enjoy it. I don't mean the punishments, but the rest."
What rest? What else was there? "I'm still learning, Kelli. It's not easy."
Kelli patted her arm. "No, it isn't. But if you two love each other, you'll work things out."
Relieved, Elly nodded more vigorously this time. "I'm sure we will."
Kelli rose and Elly quickly followed her mentor to the door. "Thank you for stopping by, Kelli."
"We're here for you, dear. Don't ever forget that. If you need help, or have any questions, call me. Any time. Day or night. All right?"
Elly gave another nod. "You're very kind. Thank you again."
With a smile, Kelli left and Elly sank against her closed front door. They meant well. All of them. But they didn't understand. And they weren't helping.
Once Elly had finished her vacuuming and dusting, she showered and changed into a dress, since Arthur didn't approve of her wearing jeans or slacks. He was old-fashioned that way, but Elly didn't mind. She liked putting on dresses and heels. Sitting on the edge of the bed to draw up her stockings, she wondered whether Dr. Douglas objected to women wearing pants. She found herself thinking of the vet often and knew she shouldn't, which was one of the reasons she'd been avoiding taking Muffin back to the park. Their fenced in backyard sufficed to give the tiny poodle exercise, and even though Muffin enjoyed playing with Jack, Elly didn't want to risk Arthur's displeasure by spending too much time with their handsome vet. Then again, Arthur couldn't care less who Elly visited with at the dog park as long as her visits didn't take any of her time or attention away from him.
As if she realized Elly was thinking of her, Muffin jumped up on Elly's lap, balanced on her hind legs like a ballerina, and gave Elly a quick doggie kiss on the nose. Laughing, Elly ruffled her pet's ears and bent down to whisper, "You miss Jack, don't you?"
The poodle let out a small yip, recognizing the other dog's name.
"Me, too," she whispered, letting out a soft sigh. "Now get down, sweetie. You know Daddy doesn't like you up on the bed, and you don't want him to scold Mommy, do you?"
Muffin jumped down with a "harrumph" as if 'Daddy's' preferences were meaningless to her.
The need to schedule Muffin's surgery was another reason Elly avoided seeing Dr. Douglas again. She was so small. Though Elly trusted Jerry to take good care of her tiny friend, she'd heard rumors of toy-sized dogs not surviving the anesthesia, and she couldn't even contemplate the possibility of losing Muffin. Her poodle was the only friend she had. Her baby.
Elly stood up and straightened her skirt. If she didn't see Dr. Douglas, she could claim to have forgotten she needed to schedule an appointment. Except that was a lie; bother it all.
With a swish of her full skirt, she went downstairs to prepare dinner. Arthur was due home at 6 PM and her attention should be on him, not the vet whose hazel eyes, fringed by sinfully long lashes, saw more than she wanted, but whose welcoming smile and friendly chatter put her at ease in a way no one else ever had.
Elly squeezed another slice of lemon on her fillet of sole while Arthur spoke of the chores they'd need to complete prior to the first snowfall. "Winters can be wicked here, I've been told, so I want to ensure we're prepared. I'd like you to make a list of non-perishable items in case we get snowed-in. The Internet should provide a more comprehensive list, but I suggest we procure at least a week's supply of bottled water, a variety of canned foods, including soups, paper goods, packaged meals, etc. Think you can manage this project, or should I see to the provisions myself?"
"I can make up a list, Arthur."
"Let us hope so. When you do, please bear in mind we may lose electricity, so we'll need extra batteries and candles as well."
Elly nodded. He'd most likely rip apart whatever list she put together, but she'd do her damnedest.
"Also, I need to add a key to your ring for the new shed I moved into our garage as extra security for the snow and leaf blowers I recently purchased. Where are your keys?"
She tried to remember when she had them last. "My right coat pocket, I think."
"You think? Eleanor, those keys aren't toys to be left about wherever you like. You should always know where they are. If you can't be responsible enough to handle items associated with our home security, then I'm not sure I should trust you with any object pertaining to our safety or wellbeing."
"I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm certain they are in my coat pocket."
"Well, I hope you're right. I must say I'm disappointed in you lately. It seems as if your mind is lost somewhere in the clouds, and I'm not sure how to get you focused back on reality."
Elly swallowed. Last evening was the first night in a month he hadn't punished her, and she'd been so careful today. Still, she needed to be more responsible.
Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he rose from the table. When Elly started to rise as well, he raised a hand to stop her. "No, finish your dinner while I add this key to your ring."
With a nod, she picked up another forkful of peas. Why did he request this disgusting vegetable so often?
Arthur was gone less than a minute, when he called, "Eleanor, would you come here for a moment please."
That frigidly polite request sent a chill up her spine. What had she done now? Rising from the table, she walked from the dining room, through their living room to the foyer and the armoire where they kept their coats. Arthur scow
led down at a small, rectangular slip of paper.
"Yes, Arthur?"
"What's this?" he asked, holding out the white rectangle. Elly blinked in confusion as she stared down at Jerry's card.
"Our vet's business card. He wanted me to call and make an appointment for Muffin to be spayed."
"I see." He glanced at the paper again, then flipped it over. "Any particular reason why he wrote his personal home and cell number on the back?"
"No. Not that I can think of. I mean, I didn't realize he'd added them."
"Didn't you?"
"No. I only looked at the information on the front."
"Interesting. Where's your phone?"
"In my purse."
"Would you fetch it for me, please?"
Elly had a bad feeling as she retrieved the requested object and handed it to her husband. He dialed one of the numbers listed on the back of Jerry's card and put the phone on speaker.
It rang once. "Elly? Are you all right? What's wrong?"
"This is Arthur Benson, Dr. Douglas. I found your business card in my wife's coat pocket. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to tell me why you wrote your personal numbers on the back and how it is you recognize my wife's cell phone number?"
Chapter 3
Jerry instantly bristled at Benson's patronizing tone. The man was an ass. "I gave my card to your wife, Mr. Benson, so she could make an appointment for her poodle to be spayed."
"That explains why you gave my wife your card, Dr. Douglas, but not why you scribbled your personal information on the back."
"I'm a vet, which means I'm on call and available 24/7. I give my personal information to all my clients, since pet issues don't always follow normal office hours."
"And how is it you happen to recognize my wife's cell phone number? Did she provide you with that information?"
"Not personally. No. However, when Mrs. Benson first moved here she came to the clinic and filled out a card so we would have Muffin's information on file in case of an emergency. As a responsible pet owner, she listed her home phone number, her cell phone number, and even your office number as points of contact. I programmed her numbers into my cell phone."
"Convenient. Did you program my office number into your phone as well?"
"As a matter of fact, I did. Would you like me to read it back to you?"
"That won't be necessary, Dr. Douglas. I have two more questions to ask you."
"Please, Mr. Benson, go ahead."
"Why did you call my wife 'Elly,' and what made you suspect something was wrong?"
"I called her Elly, because she listed it as her preferred name on the card she filled out. As it happens, she doesn't like to be called Eleanor. Were you aware of that, Mr. Benson?" Jerry knew he was pushing the other man's buttons, but right then he'd like nothing better than to punch Arthur Benson's supercilious nose. Silence greeted him. So, after a moment he added, "I suspected something might be wrong because your wife's cell phone number came up on my display after eight o'clock. I don't usually receive calls from clients in the evening unless there's a problem. Does that answer your questions, Mr. Benson?"
"Perfectly. Thank you. Good night, Dr. Douglas. I apologize for disturbing you."
Disconnecting the call, Jerry dragged in a breath and leaned back in his chair. Pompous asshole. It would be a cold day in hell before he'd ever program Benson's office number into his phone. Arthur Benson would be the last person he'd contact in case of an emergency with Muffin or Elly. Though he'd been ready to put the man on hold and run over to his office if the jerk had called his bluff. Luckily, he hadn't. Jerry wished Elly would call and let him know she was all right, but he suspected he'd pissed her husband off royally, which meant Elly would pay, one way or another.
If she didn't come to the park tomorrow, he'd go to her. She still hadn't scheduled an appointment for Muffin, so she was either avoiding him or procrastinating scheduling the surgery. He intended to uncover the reason she kept her distance, and deal with the issue accordingly.
Elly needed more of a social life. She was locked up in that house with only Arthur Benson for human company. Given the circumstances, he found it surprising the lady had retained her sanity, much less her sense of humor. He'd make some calls tomorrow. Perhaps he could have a few neighbors drop by and invite her to join them in a community project. Something had to be going on at this time of year. It was only two weeks from Halloween.
Elly met her husband's gaze as he closed her phone and handed it back to her. "Either your vet is very clever, or you're telling me the truth."
Why would he think she'd lied to him? Everything she'd said had been truthful.
"I abhor liars, Eleanor, and view any form of deceit to be a cardinal sin. For the record, I consider an omission akin to deceit, for it is a willful holding back of the truth. I would have to express my disappointment most keenly if I ever discovered you had played me false. Do we understand each other?"
"Yes, sir," Elly replied in a whisper. If he caught her in a lie, she'd be lucky to survive his punishment without permanent scars.
"Good. Finish your dinner and clean up. I'd hoped to make it an early night; however, I think you are in need of a focus session, to remind you of your duty to me."
Elly swallowed. "Yes, sir." A focus session could mean anything from controlling her breathing while holding a burning candle steady on her stomach, which would spill hot wax on her if she let her mind wander for a second; to crouching naked on her toes with an array of sharply pointed jacks spread in front of her. She had to concentrate on maintaining her balance or her knees would have tiny bits of metal digging into them. Painful, if not injurious. If she lost focus, which she did more often than not, Arthur insisted she endure the pain of her slip for a specified length of time before he allowed her to clean up and start over. Whatever task he set her, she had to keep all her attention on completing it successfully, or continue trying until he determined she was hopeless. Elly hated focus sessions, but they achieved their desired objective. They improved her concentration so well; she rarely committed the same mistake twice.
"Call me when you're finished," he ordered before returning to his office. Elly returned to the table. She was tempted to throw the rest of her meal away, but if Arthur caught her, she'd be put back in the diaper and forced to eat the peas out of the garbage. Instead, she placed her plate in the microwave to warm the food up for a minute. Muffin peeked out at her from the laundry area.
"Yes, Mommy's in trouble again. So, what else is new? You'd best keep a low profile or Daddy will get after you, too." The microwave dinged. "Go on." She pointed at the frilly dog bed set next to the dryer. "Back to your beddies." Muffin obeyed, though Elly saw a hint of resentment in the dog's stiff-legged gait. Sighing, admittedly she wasn't thrilled over this turn of events either.
The next morning, Elly's legs trembled as she prepared Arthur's breakfast. She'd taken a couple of tablets for her discomfort, but they didn't seem to be working, yet. Last night's focus session had been particularly brutal. After ordering her to strip, Arthur had placed a firm hand at her back and ordered her to bend forward until her torso rested at a ninety-degree angle to her legs.
"Clasp your hands behind you," he instructed. "If you can't maintain the position, I will get the handcuffs, but for now I want you to do this without help."
When her hands were positioned the way he wanted them, he tapped her buttocks with the cane he held in his right hand. "I'll start light, but you are to ignore the cane and focus on your task. I want you to say the alphabet backwards. If you miss a letter, break position, or make a sound that isn't a letter, we'll begin again and the strokes will get harder. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," Elly answered, her back already hurting from the awkward position.
"Good. We'll begin. Keep your mind on your task and pretend I'm not here."
Elly jerked at the first stroke, but started reciting the alphabet beginning with "Z." She got as far as "U" before she let out a gasp.
"Not allowed," Arthur reminded as the cane bit into Elly's bottom, leaving a stinging line of fire in its wake. "You're focusing more on your discomfort than your task, Eleanor. Put the pain out of your mind and direct your attention to what I've asked you to do."
"My back hurts. Oww." Another strike. She lowered her arms and tried to stand, but his left hand moved to the back of her neck and pushed down as the cane whistled and struck again. Elly cried out and tried to rise once more only to feel a cool ring of metal snap about her right wrist.
"I'm disappointed in you, Eleanor." Tears dropped to the floor as Elly stopped resisting while Arthur finished handcuffing her hands behind her back. She hated those handcuffs, but knew she wouldn't be able to accomplish this session without them. She was too weak, her brain too disorganized, and her mind too scattered. She failed at almost every task her husband assigned her.
"What is pain?" he asked, his tone calm and reasonable.
She repeated the phrase he'd instilled in her. "A learning tool intended to help me become a better, more focused person."
"Correct. Now concentrate on your task, and we'll begin again."
Elly did her best, but after her tenth attempt she was sobbing so hard, she couldn't talk, so Arthur finally relented. "All right, enough." He unlocked the handcuffs and helped her stand. Pain tore through her cramped muscles and she cried out, unable to move without sharp shards of agony ripping along her back. Arthur turned her into his chest and pressed strong fingers along her spine. Though his massage hurt, it eventually loosened her muscles enough she could stand without assistance.
"This task shouldn't have been all that difficult for you, Eleanor. You're not stupid, although sometimes I wonder why can't you do something as easy as repeating the alphabet. A feat young children can accomplish with ease, and yet you apparently can't."
