Ace-High Flush

by Patricia Green

  She went home to change her clothes, and her mother started in, complaining about Gabby's absence, and reciting a litany of criticisms about the aide who'd spent the night with her. None of the things she listed sounded like more than whining. Anita wasn't used to Gabby having her own life and it galled her when her daughter didn't pay enough attention to her. But, Gabby made mental note of the complaints, aware that while nothing was perfect, if the issues became pronounced, action would have to be taken.

  Gabby had to go out for most of the morning, so the aide called in a relief person. The ka-ching noise of a cash register sounded in Gabby's head as she tallied up the cost of the help. Ace was paying, but Gabby didn't like it and wanted to keep it minimized. She planned to pay him back, even if he protested, but the debt was rising.

  The salon she used had booked her for "maintenance." She was getting waxed and facialed, manicured and pedicured. It maxed out her credit card, but she had no choice. There was a two hour rehearsal for the photo project in the afternoon, and she had to be groomed and professional looking. She didn't know how much nudity there would be in a rehearsal, but the main shoot was scheduled for the next day anyway, so the grooming was necessary.

  As she lay on the table, having all the hair on her legs and pubes waxed away, she tried to think of something other than the stinging pain of the hairs being ripped out. Her mind went to Ace, and she wondered what he was doing right at that moment. He had been scheduled to go back to the police precinct for another line-up, but she didn't know how long that kind of thing took. What else would he do with his morning? Their lunch date in Manhattan seemed like a long time away.

  * * *

  Ace positively identified a young man from the line-up at the police station and waited while a second line-up was assembled. The police had also picked up the guy with the watch cap and were presenting him to Ace for identification. If either of the fellows fingered the third thug, the whole slate would have been caught. It was efficient of the NYPD, and Ace was impressed with their care with this case.

  While Ace waited, he thought about Gabby. Their night together had been satisfying in all ways except one—they'd only get to reprise it one last time. Tonight would be it. Over. Afinado. The end.

  He realized that he couldn't ignore being in love with her; he'd come to that conclusion sometime around 3:00 a.m. when she'd offered herself up for the second time last night. She was affectionate, sexy, fun, and took her spankings with every intention of not behaving badly again. Her sincerity outweighed her tendency to tell the occasional lie to cover up something she perceived as an inadequacy. He could envision himself spanking that lying habit out of her. But that opportunity was not going to happen.

  Ace wasn't sure how she felt about him. She pretty much gave as good as she got when they talked or had sex. At the same time, if he put his foot down, she submitted. She needed a governor to help her. But they had such different lives.

  If she loved him, she was keeping it to herself. Maybe she was so overwhelmed with her mother and her career that there wasn't room for a more permanent relationship. What kind of relationship did that leave? He was only her second lover, but the whole idea of there ever being a third made his temperature rise. So long as she wasn't his though, she had the right to take as many lovers as she liked. He groaned aloud.

  But maybe impermanence and variety were to be her choices. She was a good, religious girl, but even good girls strayed off the path. She'd already proven that she could be destructive if not controlled. Her behavior with Liv showed that she had poor judgment under pressure.

  Detective Cambridge shepherded Ace into the line-up room again and, this time, Ace found it easy to recognize the thug. The police business was over.

  He took a cab to the restaurant where he was supposed to meet Gabby, and had a beer while he waited. While Gabby was scheduled to work for a little piece of the afternoon, maybe they'd have time to both eat lunch and go back to his hotel room for a quickie.

  Chiding himself, Ace wondered where all his self-control had gone. Nearly forty and he had the libido of a teenager all of a sudden. He hadn't been this randy for a female in ages. Maybe it was the falling in love thing.

  The beer was good going down, but nothing would loosen the lump in his throat.

  * * *

  Gabby felt pretty as she made her way across town to the restaurant. Being all polished and shiny lifted her spirits, and she was determined not to dwell on Ace's departure. She reminded herself to live in the moment, even while some little part of her poked her about it becoming a habit where Ace was concerned.

  He was waiting for her at the bar, a half-filled pint glass sitting before him on a wet paper napkin. She tapped him on the shoulder and said his name.

  "Hey there, li'l girl." Their kiss was tender and Gabby sighed against his lips as he drew away. One more kiss for the memory banks.

  After they were seated in a booth and the orders were placed, Ace reached under the dangling tablecloth and ran his hand under the skirt of Gabby's sundress.

  "Smooth."

  She nodded, though her mind was on the way his fingers followed the curve of her thigh to slowly creep up between her legs.

  "Ace, what if someone sees?"

  "They won't see, sweetheart. The tablecloth is long enough to hide us."

  "They'll see me get all hot and bothered, though."

  He grinned and stopped moving toward her mound. "That they will."

  There was a warm spot for a while after he withdrew his hand to eat his lunch, but Gabby tried to focus on their conversation rather than what might have happened.

  Ace put his hand back on her thigh a moment after their post-lunch coffee arrived. "I can feel your heat from here, sweetheart."

  "You're embarrassing me." His fingers flirted with the band of her panties, and she reached down to stay his progress.

  "You don't like it when I touch you? Seemed like you enjoyed it this mornin'."

  Her pulse sped up at the memory. "Yes, I like it. But we're in public, Ace!"

  Ace's hand moved into the front of her panties and a frown came over his face. "What did you do?"

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "You waxed away all your pubic hair. Why'd you do a fool thin' like that?"

  "I thought you'd like it." That was a big lie. HunkaChunka, the magazine she was posing for, wanted shaved pubes. Ace had made it clear that she was fine the way she was. He'd never asked her to change herself.

  He withdrew his hand as though burned, turning away from her. "I might call you 'li'l girl' but that doesn't mean I want you to look like one."

  She kept silent.

  "I wish you hadn't done that, Gabby."

  "I'm sorry. I had to—" She caught herself. "I mean, I wanted to do something memorable."

  His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, you 'had to'?"

  "I...um..." She reached for her coffee cup, but her hands were trembling so much that she had to put it back down without drinking.

  "What have you done, Gabriella Appleby?"

  She hated it when he called her by her whole name. It made her feel like a child, a naughty child. He was not her daddy! She tilted her chin up. "Nothing that concerns you, Ace."

  Without saying a word, he retrieved his credit card and receipt from the embossed sleeve and put them in his wallet. "Grab your purse."

  "Where are we going?" He propelled her out of the booth and pulled her by her wrist to the curb where he hailed a cab. "Ace! I have to work in a couple of hours!"

  "This won't take that long." He seated her in the cab and gave the hotel address to the driver.

  "What won't take that long?" She couldn't have sex with him right before her job. What if they wanted to photograph her down there? She couldn't be all sex-flushed and swollen between the legs. They'd think she was a slut. Well...maybe they'd think she was a slut anyway. Good girls didn't pose for nude pictures for men's magazines.

  Ace went silent again and proce
eded to guide her to his room. He wasn't hurting her—he would never do her harm, she knew—but he was being forceful. She wasn't going to escape this, whatever it was. Could he be that mad about the waxed pubes?

  When the door closed on his suite, Ace locked it and faced her, his look dark. "Why did you shave your pussy, Gabby?"

  "I'm sorry that you don't like it. I can't grow it back again in time for our last night, no matter how much I might want to."

  "Tell me."

  She couldn't look him in the eye. Guilt was making her fidgety, too. "No."

  He growled. "No?"

  "No."

  "Do I have to spank it out of you?"

  "I don't have to tell you anything!" Her temper was rising. It was none of his damn business anyway. He'd never see the pictures; or maybe he would. He could have a subscription to HunkaChunka for all she knew. And, even if he did see the pictures, he wasn't the boss of her. She was an adult. He couldn't possibly understand how desperate things were for her, how close to the margin her life balanced. And that was a major issue. They were different in too many ways.

  "Bend over and put your hands on the ottoman."

  "No!" If he was going to spank her anyway, she might as well tell him the truth. But he was going to be so mad. It was sure to make things worse.

  "Gabby!" he roared, taking a step toward her. "Mind me or tell me the truth! Right now!"

  "Okay! Okay!" She gave him her best defiant look. "I'm going to model for a men's magazine. The money is good and I need it."

  "You're what? What magazine?"

  It was hard to admit how sleazy the job was. "Does it matter?"

  According to his menacing look, it did matter.

  "HunkaChunka." She couldn't quite say it aloud. Her voice was a soft whisper.

  "Gabriella Cristabel Marie Appleby! Do you have any idea what that rag is like?"

  "I think so."

  He stalked away. "I can't believe you agreed to that."

  "I'm sorry." Misery and guilt made her feel leaden. The whole situation was humiliating.

  "My God, woman! I thought you were a good Catholic girl."

  "I am," she whispered. He was glowering at her. "I need the money, Ace."

  "I've offered to help you, Gabby. I wouldn't expect you to masturbate for every damn man from here to Seattle, either. I can't believe it."

  "M-ma…"

  "You heard me. Have you ever even seen a copy of HunkaChunka?"

  Gabby shook her head.

  "There are not only naked pictures in there, Gabby. There are pussy shots, and dildo shots, and other porn. It's a stroke magazine, and nothin' pretty about it."

  To think she'd agreed to pose for them! Talk about stupid.

  "I can't believe you turned to doing somethin' like that rather than lettin' me help you." He raked a hand through his hair. "I thought you trusted me. You were lyin', though. Lyin' to me and demeanin' yourself."

  She was sick with guilt. How was she ever going to get his respect back?

  "Cancel it."

  "I can't."

  "Of course you can. Cancel it."

  "Ace! I need the money. It's an honest way to make what I need."

  He snorted. "Honest, maybe. Utterly slutty, too. Is that what you're tryin' to become? Is that how you think of yourself?"

  "I'm not a slut. You know that."

  "I'm beginnin' to wonder if I know you at all."

  Her heart was breaking. Losing his respect was a hundred times worse than she ever could have imagined. Even if their parting was inevitable, she needed to know he thought well of her--could remember her as someone special in a good way. "Please don't hate me, Ace."

  "I'm goin' to pay for the nursin' aides for your mother until you get your finances straightened out. You will not be resortin' to this sleazy behavior again, young lady."

  She didn't want to take his money, but it would be a huge relief not to have to worry so much about her mother, and to be able to pursue her modeling career within the bounds of decency. The whole idea of being in a "stroke magazine" horrified her, and she'd nearly fallen into the pit. "Okay. I'll cancel it."

  He gestured toward her purse. "Do it now. I want to hear it myself."

  "You don't trust me?"

  "Should I, after you did such a damn crazy thing?"

  He might never trust her again, and that brought tears to Gabby's eyes. Remorse dripped down her cheeks and fell on her hands as she dug her phone out of her purse.

  It took a few minutes to get to the right person, but finally she got her agent on the line. "Becky, it's Gabby Appleby."

  "Hi, Gabby. How ya doin'?" The woman's Brooklyn accent was pronounced.

  "I'm okay. Listen, something has come up and I can't get to the HunkaChunka rehearsal this afternoon."

  "You can't? That might nix the deal. You sure you can't make it?"

  "I am having..." She glanced at Ace. "Second thoughts."

  "Look, Gabby. The money is good. These people are professionals. No one is going to make you feel like a tart."

  "I already feel like a tart, Becky. Cancel for me, please."

  There was a long-suffering sigh. "Alright. I might be able to come up with something for you next week. Something with your clothes on. But the money won't be as good."

  "That's okay. If it's legit, I'll take it."

  "I'll call you."

  "Thanks."

  She pressed disconnect and put the phone away. Her sense of self got immeasurably lighter. The tears had dried on her face.

  "Good girl," Ace told her. "Take off your clothes and prepare for a spankin' like the one you got when I first met you."

  "Oh no, Ace. Please. I made a mistake. It was an honest mistake."

  He snorted. "So honest that you kept it from me like a dirty secret."

  There was no denying that. "I'm ashamed." Tears formed again, and her breath hitched as a sob escaped. "Please don't hate me, Ace."

  He tilted her chin up. "Look at me." She did. "I don't hate you, Gabby. But I am gonna teach you a lesson. No matter how much you need money, there's a better answer than abasin' yourself. If you'd thought that through, you'd have realized that takin' help from a friend is not the same thin'. You don't need to be embarrassed about needin' money, Gabby. You need to be embarrassed about how you decided to go about getting' it."

  "I guess I deserve it, but it's our last day together." Another sob escaped her. "I don't want it to go badly. I guess it's too late for that." She broke down in tears, the tension of the day overwhelming her. She felt dirty and embarrassed and a little panicked about her relationship with Ace. She had to take the money from him, and that would mean an ongoing relationship of debtor and creditor. It wasn't what she'd have liked, but any tie was better than none.

  He smelled so good, and it was so comforting to have his arms around her as he pulled her in close. He whispered nonsense into her ear and kissed her temple, while she sobbed into his suit coat.

  "Let's get it over with, Gabby." He unzipped her dress and stepped back a pace.

  Gabby let the dress slide to the floor and took off most of her other clothes, leaving her panties on. When her thumbs went into the waistband, she sought Ace's approval. He'd already said he didn't like her bare pussy. She didn't want to add to her sins by making him look at it.

  "Go ahead, li'l girl."

  How she wished she was truly his girl, his woman, his love. Maybe she should tell him. But it was too late. She'd done so many things wrong. He wouldn't believe her; he'd think she was just trying to get out of the spanking. She should leave before this went further, but something made her stay. She needed the little spark of hope that continued closeness to him provided. Maybe she could find a way to bring his respect back; a spanking might be the way. And there was no getting 'round the fact that she deserved it.

  She slid the panties off and stood naked. His gaze raked over her, pausing at her waxed pubes and moving down to her feet and back up to her eyes.

  "I don
't have a strap this time, Gabby." He shrugged out of his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. When he reached for his belt, Gabby took a step back. It didn't escape his notice. "I will not harm you."

  She knew he wouldn't, but it was frightening. She remembered the first spanking he'd given her. She'd hurt for three days. This one was going to be like that. All the spankings between then and now were nothing in comparison.

  "Come with me." He held out his hand and pulled her with him to a big wingback chair in the corner. Grabbing the ottoman, he positioned it in front of the chair, then went into the bedroom and retrieved three pillows. Two of the pillows went onto the ottoman and one on the floor nearby. He gestured. "Lie across here, Gabby."

  "I'm scared."

  "You need to respect yourself more, Gabby. You need to think thin's through. Imagine if your mother found out, how sick she'd be. Imagine how your career would suffer if businesses thought you'd be a bad representative for their products.

  "You deserve this spankin'."

  She knew she did. "Yes."

  "Lie down on your tummy on the pillows."

  Shivering from awful anticipation, she did as he told her. The belt was wrapped around his fist, leaving a loop exposed and his free hand rested on her lower back to keep her from squirming too much. But she knew she was going to squirm anyway, and kick and buck, and plead and cry. She was going to suffer for her misbehavior.

  The first swat wasn't too bad, although it landed across the seam of her behind, making both cheeks hurt at once. That minor sting was soon replaced with heat, and next with fire as he struck her with the leather over and over again. Her butt was screaming with pain, and she was screaming with it, her face pressed into the spare pillow.

  She tried to pray for mercy, but she was the worst kind of sinner.

  Soon her thighs were stinging and knives seemed to shoot from them to her butt and back down again.

  "No more lies, Gabby," Ace told her between spanks. "No more misdirection, or lies by omission. Respect yourself and think about thin's before you jump in."