Love in the Rockies

by Thianna D

  “Who also happens to be your future husband’s best man. See you tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Elly spent the rest of the day making a dinner she probably wouldn’t eat, and puttering around the house until four o’clock. Then, she got undressed, hopped into a hot shower, and scrubbed until her skin glowed bright pink. When she got out, she rubbed the orange-ginger scented moisturizer she used to apply every day over her entire body. She hadn’t applied the lotion since her last night with Arthur, because it brought back bad memories, but she wanted those memories front and center tonight so that she and Jerry could finally banish them and the fear they caused.

  Next, she spent time drying and brushing her auburn hair until it gleamed. Gazing at the paleness of her reflection, she briefly considered adding some blush and green eye shadow to give her features more definition, but decided against it, since make-up and tears made a lousy combination. When she’d done everything she could to prepare, Elly stood in front of the full-length mirror and took a long look at herself. Standing at only five feet two in bare feet, with slightly rounder hips and what Jerry referred to as a sexy paunch, she didn’t believe she’d put on too much more weight after moving in with him, despite his excellent cooking and frequent surprise treats. At least her clothes still fit, but she thought her breasts appeared fuller and their aureoles were a little darker. So much had happened in the past six months, and yet other than the addition of a small scar under her left breast and the light bluish-red ring still visible around her neck, she didn’t look much different. The majority of her changes were internal.

  Head high, she walked into the bedroom and checked the clock. Five-thirty. Slipping on a full-length terry cloth robe, she fed the dogs’ dinner and let them outside before locking them upstairs. Since the loft was an open space, Muffin’s sharp little ears would pick up some of the noise, but the doggy gate Jerry installed made certain she couldn’t intervene. The small, white poodle was extremely protective of Elly, and stuck especially close after one of Jerry’s discipline sessions. Even so, the animal seemed to understand the nice man meant her “mommy” no harm, because she even deigned to give Jerry a doggy kiss on the nose afterward, if he asked for one. Whereas, if Arthur had ever shown such temerity, Muffin would have happily bitten off whatever she could reach.

  Returning downstairs, Elly hung her robe on a hook in the bathroom and took her place in the corner. Waiting was torture since her active mind promptly conjured up all the images and scenarios she feared most. Eyes closed she remembered how Arthur had left her bleeding and unconscious on the floor. Her arms so weak, she couldn’t lift a glass of water.

  Stop it, Elly, she scolded. You know Jerry would never do that to you, so let go of the past. She forced herself to focus on Jerry’s sweet kisses and gentle lovemaking, but her perverse brain insisted on reminding her how Arthur enjoyed restraining her wrists in metal handcuffs before he caned her. He wanted Elly helpless, vulnerable and totally at his mercy.

  Fortunately, her vivid imagination wasn’t given long to reminisce, and had recalled no more than fifteen minutes of pain and horror before the door to the clinic opened. The dogs started to whine and bark in greeting.

  Eyes squeezed shut; Elly struggled to still her trembling as Jerry shushed their pets, picked up some things from the living room, and then joined her in the bedroom. She didn’t move, and Jerry didn’t speak, which made her even more nervous.

  Stepping into the bathroom, he washed up while she remained, back arched, nose in corner and bottom thrust out. Each second served as a subtle torture, which she suspected Jerry intended. Goosebumps erupted over her arms, legs and chest as tears rolled down her cheeks. He hadn’t said so much as a word to her and she was a mess already.

  When he returned to the room, she heard him rearranging some furniture. “You may turn around now.”

  Elly straightened and faced him. Jerry had placed the three implements on the bed, positioned his armless desk chair in the center of the room, and was now rolling up his sleeves. Though all three actions were meant to make her uneasy, it was the merciless determination in his eyes that had her locking her knees to keep from folding to the floor.

  “Hands clasped behind your back,” he ordered, waiting until she obeyed before he spoke again. “Have you thought about what I said?”

  They’d both said so much the past couple of days, she wasn’t sure what he referred to in particular, but answered in the affirmative. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Tell me again why we are doing this.”

  “Because I left without telling you where I was going, and deliberately antagonized my ex-husband when he angered me.”

  “In addition to causing me untold worry and despair.”

  “Yes, sir. That, too.”

  “And what are you hoping to accomplish with this session?”

  “I would like to put my past behind me forever so I can move on with my life free of pain and haunting memories.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Learn to recognize and accept I am and always will be safe with you.”

  He straightened with a nod. “Good. Kneel on the padded bench at the foot of the bed, and bend over the edge of the mattress.”

  Biting her lip, Elly hesitated. Arthur always insisted she assume the bent-over position for his punishments, but Jerry usually held her on his lap. He preferred the intimacy and reassurance both of them got from his holding her. The change bothered her on so many levels, she faltered.

  “Do you require assistance?” he inquired coolly, sounding like Arthur. Her stomach twisting into knots, Elly covered her face with her hands. She couldn’t do what he wanted. Not like this.

  He stepped closer and she struggled not to shrink away when he gently clasped her elbow. “I need you in this position because I intend to start with the belt, and that isn’t something I can do with you bent over my knees.”

  “Start?” she asked, the word ending on a high squeak.

  “Yes, Elly. You wanted the worst, so you’ll experience all three implements as well as my hand tonight.”

  Her throat dry, she attempted to swallow. “But —”

  “Quiet. No more words. I expect you to do as I say without comment or delay. Further hesitation will be punished accordingly.”

  Blinking back tears, she gazed up at him. “Could you hold me first?”

  His lips clamped in a tight line, he shook his head and turned away. When he met her gaze again, his eyes appeared overly bright. This was as difficult for him as it was for her, but he refused to falter. She’d requested this, and he was giving her what she needed, even if it physically pained him to do so.

  Without another word, he assisted her into the proper pose. He didn’t force her exactly, but his grip was firm enough to ensure her compliance.

  “Turn your head to the side and place your hands flat on the bed, please. They are to remain in that position until I give you permission to move them. Is that clear?”

  Elly let out a soft sob, then answered, “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. The first five will be with my hand. I want you to count them aloud and thank me after each swat.”

  “Oh, God!” Elly cried. “Please don’t make me —”

  “Quiet! You are to do exactly as I say. No pleading, no begging, no struggling. All I want to hear from you is the count and your gratitude. Is. That. Clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” she whimpered, her hands curling into fists.

  His hand came down with such a solid thwack it pressed her hips into the mattress.

  “One!”

  “No. I haven’t begun, yet. How did I say you were to keep your hands?”

  “Flat on the bed, sir.”

  “Correct.” Another firm smack. This one had her dipping inwards to escape the pain. “I will continue until you obey me, then we will begin your punishment.”

  At the third strike, Elly cried out, “I’m sorry!” She flattened her palms against the bed.

&nbs
p; Fourth swat. “No words. Number and thank you only.”

  Since he didn’t ask a direct question, any reply she made would be breaking the rules, so she clamped her lips together. This was going to be so much harder than she imagined.

  “You may answer to show you understand your instructions.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “Good. We’ll begin.”

  Though it was the fifth smack he’d given her, it only counted as one. So, Elly dutifully called out, “One. Thank you, sir.”

  “Correct.” The next stung a little more than the ones before it.

  “Ugh. Two. Thank you, sir.”

  “Good girl,” he whispered.

  The relief those two words gave her was immeasurable. This wasn’t Arthur walloping her senseless, it was Jerry, and he didn’t relish hurting her.

  She gasped in a lungful of air as the third one landed. “Three. Thank you, sir.”

  “Shh,” he murmured as his hands stroked her. She was sobbing aloud and hadn’t even realized it. “You’re doing very well. Now take a deep breath.”

  Placing all her weight on the bed, she relaxed and inhaled.

  “Good. Now another.”

  When she obeyed, his hand struck again, but this time she accepted it and the pain seemed much less intense. “Four. Thank you, sir.”

  “Much better.”

  The fifth swat fell, and along with it, the tension she’d been internalizing left her shoulders. That’s when she realized his hand had remained on the small of her back the entire time. Physical contact.

  “Five. Thank you, sir.”

  “Perfect. Nicely done. Now, ten with the belt.”

  “Ten?” she asked, trying to peer back at him.

  “Yes. I plan to lay these quick and hard, so I’ll count. Try to stay relaxed. You’re handling your punishment extremely well so far. I’m pleased.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she murmured softly as his praise enclosed her in a warm cocoon of caring.

  The cocoon quickly splintered like a shattered chrysalis, however, when he laid the first stripe. Leather wasn’t as unforgiving as wood, but the stinging heat it left robbed her of breath. Each strike dropped a little lower than the last until he reached her sit spot and Elly cried out. Except that was only five, so he worked his way back up. She was sobbing uncontrollably when the final burning stripe fell. Without further words, he lifted her up and carried her over to the chair where he set her down on his lap. She yelped when her sizzling bottom made contact with his slacks, but quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, not wanting him to let her go.

  “I know this isn’t easy, but you’re being very good about accepting it, darling,” he murmured, rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head. Grateful he had abandoned his role of the stern disciplinarian, Elly curled in toward him and sobbed, starved for his loving reassurance. Yes, the punishment hurt, but his soft words and kisses eased the pain better than any analgesic.

  He continued kissing, rubbing and murmuring until her sobs became mere whimpers of distress.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, once she was able to talk again.

  “I know. So am I. Do you need water or anything before we continue?”

  Somehow, she thought he’d changed his mind, and they were done. Drawing back, she gazed at his concerned expression. “There’s more?”

  “Yes, Elly. Two more. Ten each, just like I promised.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think I can.”

  “You can, and you will.” Then bending forward he pressed his lips to hers. She clung to his shoulders as though he offered her a lifeline.

  “I hurt,” she admitted, when he released her mouth. “A lot.”

  “I expect you might be slightly tender right now.”

  Gasping, she protested, “Tender? Jerry, I feel like you’ve set my bottom on fire.”

  “Not yet, you don’t. But you will.”

  Elly scrunched her nose and scowled. “That’s not very comforting.”

  “I didn’t mean for it to be.”

  When her scowl morphed into a glare, he chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose. “If you’re feisty enough to glare at me, you’re definitely strong enough to take ten of the hairbrush.”

  She wanted to growl at him. “I hate that thing. I want to burn it.”

  “Good to know. Okay, stand up.”

  Her brows moved together so they practically met in the center. “Why?”

  “A check and reposition. We’ll do the next ten here.”

  Sighing she stood up and faced him, so he motioned for her to turn around.

  “Bend over. This is an examination.”

  With a groan, she bent at the waist while he ran his fingers over her sore bottom. She drew air between her teeth at the discomfort even that gentle touch brought, but held her position until he finished examining her.

  “Good. You’re not quite red, yet, but your butt has taken on a lovely shade of pink.”

  “Lovely is in the eye of the beholder,” she griped, lowering her head.

  He gave her a pat. “Yes, it is. And I’m the one beholding.” Then he rose. “Straighten your back for a moment while I get the brush.”

  She obeyed and stretched. Now that he dropped his Arthur impersonation, she felt a lot more comfortable about what he’d planned. Not the pain. She hated that part, but she no longer imagined her husband’s stern features looming over her. This was Jerry. He loved her, and she loved him. Yes, he intended she learn a lesson to avoid repeating her mistakes, however, not at her expense. Even though hurting her was a piece of the process, it never was or ever has been a goal.

  When he returned with the hairbrush, he sat down and patted his knee with the implement. “Take your position, please.”

  Elly grumbled, but did as ordered, only to let out a gasp when he positioned her so her nails barely brushed the floor, her butt stuck up high, and her legs were trapped between his. He expected her to resist. Not good.

  “Deep breath. I’ll count; you try to hold as still as possible.”

  When the unforgiving brush fell on her sore flesh, Elly cried out while a thousand fire ants bit into her backside. She tried to grab onto something. The carpet. Anything. But nothing was in reach. She made it to five before she flung her hand back in protest.

  “No more! Please. It hurts too much.”

  “Ellly…” he warned as his fingers encircled her wrist and drew her arm toward the flat plane of his stomach. “We’ve been over this before. Punishments are meant to hurt, aren’t they?”

  “Not this much!” She continued wriggling in an attempt to get free, but she might as well be trying to move a brick wall. Jerry wasn’t giving an inch.

  “What’s our rule?”

  “No hands, but Jerry —”

  “No!” The word was sharp and definitive. Definitely no wiggle room there. “That infraction cost you five more. And, I’ll keep your hand tucked next to me, so those pretty little fingers don’t end up as collateral damage.” The next ten swats fell fast and furious, barely giving Elly enough time to breathe, let alone cry out. But when the last one struck, she wailed.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again. I promise.”

  He assisted her to her feet and started to pull her back on his lap when she jerked away and placed her hands protectively over her throbbing hindquarters. “No! I can’t. It hurts too much to sit.”

  When he motioned for her to turn around, she vehemently shook her head. Even the thought of him looking at her hurt.

  “Do you want me to become stern again? Because I will.”

  No, she didn’t want that. His Arthur impersonation bothered even more than the pain. Eyes closed she turned. The tap at her hip was a signal for her to bend forward. With a distress-filled moan, she did as he requested. She’d never survive this.

  “I’d say your butt is a deep, rosy pink that’s close to red now.”

  Hiding her face in her palms, she moaned. Onl
y pink? The area burned as if she’d sat on a hot stove.

  He ran his finger down one cheek, causing Elly to dig her nails into her thighs as she gritted her teeth and groaned.

  “Stand.”

  Obeying, she faced him.

  “I can see you’re sore, but you haven’t reached your limit, yet.”

  “I have!” she argued.

  “No. If you can still argue with me, you haven’t.”

  “But I always argue.”

  “I know, and you shouldn’t. Should you?”

  Elly considered that for a moment. Though she’d begged and pleaded with Arthur to stop a punishment, she’d submitted because she feared what he would do if she didn’t. With Jerry, however, she felt safe enough to disagree. As long as she was respectful, Jerry encouraged her to speak her mind, while Arthur demanded silent subservience. Jerry expected her to obey when he gave an instruction, but he’d never required she do so with blind obedience. All the same, she probably shouldn’t be arguing with him during a punishment.

  “Elly?”

  “No, sir,” she replied in a near whisper.

  “What should you be doing instead?”

  She gazed down at her clasped hands. “Listening and following your instructions.”

  “Correct. Especially tonight when I plan to take you to a place where you’ll say and do anything to please me so I will stop.”

  Oh, God. “But haven’t I already done that?”

  “No. Close, but not quite. I’ll get you some water, which you can stand and drink. When you’re finished, we will proceed with the last ten.”

  She glanced at the wicked piece of wood lying so innocently on the bed. “Ten? With the paddle? But that thing’s going to leave a mark.”

  “For a while, perhaps, and you’ll most likely want to sleep on your stomach tonight, but by tomorrow I expect it will have faded to a slight outline.”

  “Promise?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Stay here while I get the water.”

  When he left the room, Elly glared at the evil instrument of torture. It looked wicked. Yes, she’d asked him to do this, but she couldn’t go through with it. Not as sore as she already was. Without thinking, the moment he stepped back into the room, she dropped to her knees.