by Maria Monroe
“Look, Kane,” she began, unsure of what exactly she was going to say but knowing she needed to say something.
“The problem,” he interrupted her, bringing his glass to his lips and sipping, “is that this doesn’t taste like seventy-eight-year-old scotch, does it? It doesn’t taste like a rare drink. What it tastes like to me, Bella, is cheap liquor store whiskey.”
Now his eyes were flashing, and Bella leaned against the back of the couch as though his gaze was physically pushing her backward.
“How do you suppose it’s possible,” he asked, “that the scotch in my Mortlach bottle was replaced with this swill?” He set his glass down hard on the table.
Bella jumped at the loud noise. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Kane. I did it. This.” She gestured at the bottle.
He waited silently, so she continued.
“Last night? Before you came back? I saw the bottle. And I just wanted a taste. But then I spilled it, and I was scared you’d come back early before I had a chance to replace it, so I filled it up with my roommate’s whiskey. I’m so sorry. I’m going to pay for it, OK?” She rummaged in her purse with shaky hands for her checkbook.
Kane smiled humorlessly. “You can’t afford a proper pair of shoes,” he said. “How are you going to pay me over ten thousand dollars for a new bottle? If one can even be located, that is.”
“I have some money saved for… well, it doesn’t matter. I have enough. I can pay you. How much do you want?”
“Twelve thousand.”
“Right. OK. Twelve thousand.” Her hand scrambled around in her purse again until she found a pen, then she began to write the check. It hurt. It physically hurt to write it out, so much of her savings gone. In an instant. For a stupid bottle of scotch. But she’d made a mistake, and she had to pay. “Here,” she said when she was done, ripping the check out of the book and handing it to Kane.
He took it and placed it on the coffee table, setting the Mortlach bottle on top of it. Then she remembered what Claire had said, about exchanging a spanking for the price of the scotch. She couldn’t ask him that. It was absurd. Crazy. Then again, so was paying thousands of dollars for a bottle of alcohol. And the worst he could do was laugh at her. She could handle that. It would be nothing compared to everything else she’d been through.
“I, um, want to ask you something,” she whispered. She hadn’t intended to speak so low, but fear made her voice small.
“What is it, Bella.” Kane’s tone was irritated, but his eyes dark and mysterious as they met hers.
Could she say it? “So that video? That I was watching yesterday when you came home?”
He growled. She swore he actually growled, in anger, she was sure, though for a second something suspiciously close to lust flashed in his eyes.
“I was wondering if instead of paying for the scotch, which I’m so very sorry about, we could, you know, work something else out?”
He laughed, a cruel sound in the beautiful room. “Bella. Please. An offer of prostitution is insulting. I hope you don’t think I’m the type of man who needs to pay for pleasure.”
Oh, god. “No. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not talking about sex.”
“I don’t understand.”
Bella took a deep breath. “I was thinking you could punish me, Kane. Like the girl in the video. For what I did wrong.”
His eyes glinted, and a muscle in his cheek tightened. For a few moments he just stared at her. Then he shook his head. “Ah, Bella. What I was doing with the woman in the video was for her pleasure as much as mine. She enjoyed being spanked, and I enjoyed spanking her. I think you could see how much she liked it. And I could tell you liked it too.” His eyes searched hers, and she knew he was referring to catching her touching herself in his office.
Bella blushed hard.
“It wouldn’t be much of a punishment if you enjoyed it. Would it, Bella?”
“I don’t know,” she muttered, unable to answer him in any way that made real sense. She’d been stupid to think this plan would work. “Forget it.”
“A real punishment is something that hurts. That you do not enjoy but accept anyway because you know you deserve it. Is that what you’re asking me for?”
Bella gulped and nodded.
“I advise you to think long and hard about this,” said Kane, his voice so low Bella could hear its vibrations clear across the table. “If we agree to this, it will be painful, with no pleasure to balance it out. It won’t be playing, like it was in the video you watched on my computer. It will be hard and embarrassing and you won’t enjoy it. I will thoroughly punish you.”
“By, uh, spanking me?” Even saying the word spanking out loud was difficult. Humiliating.
“Yes. Other things as well.”
“What other things?” Her mind wasn’t working well enough right now to even contemplate what those things might be.
“Ah, no. I won’t give it all away. I find that anticipation—of both pleasure and pain—intensifies the experience.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Five sessions.”
“What?”
“Five punishment sessions, Bella. Every Friday for five weeks.”
“Five? I was thinking…”
“What were you thinking, Bella? That I’d spank you once and your debt would be erased?”
Well, yes, that was what she’d been thinking. Instead, though, she shook her head.
“The scotch you spilled was worth, at the very least, ten thousand dollars. Most likely closer to twenty thousand. That’s four thousand dollars a session.” His voice continued, quiet but stern. His eyes were unreadable, but so dark and unflinching that Bella had to look away.
“And what would happen in a session? How long would it last?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“I already said I don’t want to, shall we say, spoil the surprise. And I don’t like to repeat myself. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” she whispered, wishing she could sound sarcastic, just to let him know she wasn’t totally at his mercy, but it was impossible when he was looking at her with such dominance.
“I want you to make yourself available to me from seven in the evening till the next morning.”
“All night?” Did he expect sex too? What was she getting herself into?
“All night. I need to make sure you’re safe after our sessions. I’ll take care of you until the next morning.”
“OK.” She wasn’t sure why she was still agreeing, for as each second passed she was growing more and more nervous. It had to be the fact that her pussy was tingling, the thought that maybe, after so many years, she was going to experience exactly what she’d been fantasizing about for so, so long.
“The deal, then. You have until Friday to think about it. If you aren’t here on Friday at seven p.m., I will cash the check. That goes for the following four Fridays as well. During your punishments, you can opt out at any time. But if you do so, the check will be immediately cashed. You will have a safeword, but if you used it more than three times over the course of the five weeks, the deal is off. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then I will see you—perhaps—on Friday at seven p.m. sharp. Wear a skirt.” He stood abruptly, pushing one of his rolled-up sleeves higher on his arm, which, Bella noticed, was strong, corded with muscle. As she stood too and headed to the foyer, she felt the whisper of his hand on her lower back, guiding her to the door. The gesture was light—he was barely touching her—yet it sent a shock through her all the same, a feeling of both desire and fear. This man. Who was he?
As she stepped out of his door and into the night, all she knew was she had a lot of thinking to do before the week was over.
Chapter Two
Kane shut the door behind Bella, and a smile broke out on his face.
Well, well, well. That certainly wasn’t what he’d
expected. At times he took great pleasure in fucking with people, and tonight had been no exception. He knew he could have just confronted Bella about the scotch. But what fun would that be? Instead, he’d made a show of getting out the glasses, pouring the drink, telling her about the history just because the look of growing horror on her face was enjoyable to him. He was an asshole, he knew it, but it was what he did. How he was. And he enjoyed it too much to change.
What a pleasant surprise it had been, though. Bella asking him to punish her. Kane was good at reading people. Anticipating their next moves. Yet he would never have guessed Bella would actually ask him if he’d punish her for the scotch instead of taking her money. Part of him wanted to say no. Fuck it. A waste of time when what he should do was just cash the check.
But his body said otherwise. His mind, too. He was intrigued. The truth was, he’d noticed her a while ago, noticed the curve of her body, the delicate skin of her neck, the carefree way she smiled and walked down the street to her crappy apartment. He’d seen her walking dogs around the neighborhood, more often than not sucking on an iced coffee, her lips wrapped around the straw. Which, of course, made him think about those same pink lips wrapped around his dick, how her tongue would feel teasing the head of his cock, licking his balls.
Part of the reason Charles had asked her to dog sit, Kane knew, was that he’d mentioned to Charles that he thought she was attractive. Not that he’d ever make a move on her. Most girls weren’t into the particular pleasures that Kane offered. And he never compromised.
Still, seeing her in his house and better, finding her with her naughty hand down her panties watching him spank one of his exes made him harder than a steel rod. He knew she’d be back on Friday, knew she’d agree to the plan. Not because of the money, though it was obvious she needed it. But because she was interested in what he was going to do to her. He could see it in her eyes, smell it on her skin, sense it in the way her body responded to his very words. He hadn’t touched her yet, but he could see her trembling, not in fear but desire. She’d be back. And he’d be ready.
He heard Charles’ signature knock on the door.
“Come in,” said Kane, his deep voice traveling into the foyer, and he heard Charles open the door and Max, their dog, running up to him. Some people thought it was strange that they shared a dog, one that resided most of the time with Kane. Charles and Kane had met in college and bonded quickly, sharing a love for literature and business, and they’d been best friends ever since. They’d found the dog outside the first office they opened together, a small dingy place with a back alley that had many stories to tell. Charles had brought the mongrel in and insisted on feeding and cleaning it, and somehow, they’d decided to keep it. For years it lived in their office, where they ran their investment business together, but when they upgraded to a nicer space, they decided Max should move into Kane’s house.
“Hello,” said Charles, appearing in the room wearing a pair of pressed jeans and a pastel green button-down shirt. His blond hair swept down into his eyes, and he pushed it back, then sat down in a chair across from Kane. “Well. Busting out grandfather’s scotch. Is it his birthday already?”
“No,” said Kane, a quick stab of sadness pricking his heart at the thought of his grandfather. Charles was one of the few people who knew how close they’d been and how much his grandfather’s death had affected Kane.
“What’s the occasion, then?” asked Charles, idly petting Max, who was obviously ecstatic to see him.
Kane breathed in deeply. How to explain it? “The girl,” he finally said. “The dog sitter.”
“Bella?” asked Charles, a sparkle in his eye.
“Yes. Bella.” Kane had reservations about telling Charles, whose moral compass worked much better than his own. “She was here when I arrived home early yesterday.”
Charles simply raised an eyebrow.
“In my office, where I specifically told her not to go.”
“A curious one, is she?”
“Too curious, Charles. She was using my computer. Watching a video I’d made of me with one of my exes.”
“Oh, my.”
“Yes. Worse, Charles, was that I noticed my Mortlach looked out of place. As if someone had moved it. And when I opened it I smelled cheap whiskey rather than what was in the bottle originally.”
Charles put his face in his hands. “Poor thing,” he muttered. “What? Did she drink it? Spill it? She must be mortified.”
“Poor thing? It’s irreplaceable, Charles. Or at the very least incredibly difficult and expensive to replace. And it has meaning to me. As you know.”
“I know.” Charles swept his hair out of his eyes once more and gazed at Kane. “So. Is she going to pay you for it? She surely doesn’t have that kind of money, does she?”
“She does.” Kane pointed to the check that lay on the table, the Mortlach bottle as its paperweight.
“But? I sense a ‘but.’” Charles was always good at reading Kane. Too good, Kane sometimes thought.
“But she asked me for an alternate solution.”
“I think I need a drink before we continue,” said Charles suddenly, crouching near the coffee table and pouring from the Mortlach bottle into the two glasses.
“I don’t want to drink that shit,” said Kane.
“Oh, stop being such an arrogant prick and drink it. It’s not going to kill you.” Charles scowled at Kane as he handed him a glass, then drank from his own. “Go on, then. What was her suggestion?”
“She wants me to punish her.”
Charles lowered his glass and his eyes as he assessed Kane. “She’s… innocent, yes?”
Kane sipped his drink and grimaced at the harsh taste. So maybe he was arrogant with expensive tastes? So the fuck what? “I don’t think she’s a virgin.”
“Oh, please, Kane. I’m not talking about being a virgin. I’m talking about your… proclivities.”
“My proclivities? Is that how you refer to it?” Kane laughed.
“Your lifestyle. Your sexual preferences. I mean, I like a little kink. You? Like only kink.”
Kane stood suddenly, walking to the window and gazing out into the dark night. “I wouldn’t say I only like kink. I do enjoy it, though, yes. And Bella is, almost certainly, very vanilla. Though I could tell she enjoyed watching the video of me spanking another woman. And I could see it in her eyes, when we were talking about the possibility of a deal, that she was very interested. Afraid, yes. But intrigued.”
“It’s a bad idea, Kane. She doesn’t really know what she’s getting herself into, does she?”
“Why must you be so relentlessly moral?”
“Why must you be so relentlessly dark?”
Kane laughed again. Dark? Maybe. Probably.
“Just be careful with her, Kane. She’s a nice girl.”
Kane murmured his assent, but what he was really thinking about was Bella’s ass, the way it moved when she walked. The way he imagined it would look bare, red after he spanked it hard, until she cried and begged him to stop.
* * *
The week passed quickly for Kane, who was busy working. But thoughts of Bella never quite left his mind. He was sure she’d show up on Friday, but part of him worried that she wouldn’t. He didn’t want to be concerned about something as supposedly meaningless as that. If she didn’t come over, he’d simply cash the check. That was the agreement. It was quite simple.
And yet… Although he didn’t want to admit it, he realized he’d be disappointed if she changed her mind about the deal. That realization made him uncomfortable. He liked to be in control at all times, liked to avoid unnecessary emotions by making sure everything went the way it should, the way he wanted. By planning meticulously. Disappointment, fear, sadness: those were all useless emotions to Kane. They did nothing but make you weak. And he didn’t like to be weak.
He worked out in the evenings, his home gym a place where he could both relax and pu
sh himself hard, making sure his body was strong and able, ready for anything. But all he could think about was Bella. How sexy she looked even in her cheap clothes. How easily she blushed, simply from mundane conversations, and the thought of making her blush over his knee got him hard, almost painfully so. Her voice was pretty, and right now he could only imagine what it would sound like when he made her ask for her punishment. When he made her politely request that he pull down her panties and spank her.
Fuck, he muttered, thinking of her petite body, her perfect curves; thinking about how if all went as he hoped it did, she’d be here in his house, naked, spread, at his mercy in just a few days.
* * *
On Friday Kane had Charles pick up Max. He wanted nothing in the house to distract him from Bella. Charles gave him a last warning about what he was doing.
“Kane, she’s not like the girls you usually spend time with. She’s… breakable.”
“She’ll have a safeword, Charles. I’m not going to break her.”
Charles shook his head. “Just be careful with her, Kane.”
“Since when are you her best friend anyway?” asked Kane. “You’ve talked to her what? Perhaps twice?”
“When you like someone, you like them,” said Charles simply. “Go easy on her.”
But Kane had no intention of going easy on her. The first session, maybe. Just to feel her out. To see how she reacted. To get a sense of what she could and couldn’t take. He was good at that, at knowing instinctively how far he could take a woman. At distinguishing between the pain that she liked versus the pain that pushed past her limits. Usually, he didn’t need to be told. He just knew. But usually, his involvements were for the mutual pleasure of both the girl and himself. This time? There wasn’t supposed to be pleasure for Bella. It was supposed to be a punishment. And he wasn’t sure how much he was willing to bend on that.
Alone in his house, he felt strangely uneasy as he waited for the approach of seven p.m. It was ridiculous how disappointed he would be if she didn’t show. Pathetic. There were a number of girls he could call right now who would come over at a moment’s notice. What did it matter if Bella didn’t come? He downed a shot of the cheap scotch that still sat on top of Bella’s check, then commenced waiting once more, pacing the room as he did.
