Chapter Seven

KC moved on me—hands on, deliberate and often harsh. Capricious and unexpected his appearances could not be clocked, but they were all heart-pounding moments of intense joy. He called, checking up on me during the day to make sure I was keeping promises to myself. He ordered me to the theatre some evenings, for the same reason. Usually then, we wound up in bed, and often not before he gave me vigorous spankings just for the hell of it, or because it simply pleased him to whack my behind and make it burn. It didn’t matter what he did for me, my arousal hit regular peaks of exhilaration, and I kept wanting more.

Like Rossi, however, he made up the rules and I followed along. I didn’t argue. Unlike Rossi, KC didn’t seem to need my total subjugation to his command. All he wanted was the truth in unadorned language. He wanted the stories, so I told him in bits and pieces, as much as I could handle. After sex, I’d talk until I ran out of steam and then he’d let me go, showering me in gentleness.

He also came to my apartment. The first time was just a week after my first confession at the theatre. He came at midnight after his show when I was ready for bed.

I answered the knock at the door with a smile; but it didn’t seem to be enough to change his surly mood.

“Something wrong?” I asked, seeing his pained grimace.

“Just about everything—looked more like opening night than our fourth performance. And where were you?”

“I couldn’t make it.” It was just half a lie, but I wasn’t about to admit the whole truth with him glowering at me unhappily. “I had to finish this project Travis dumped in my lap this morning.”

“Did you get it done?”

“Yes, about a half hour ago.”

“Good.”

KC sauntered around the apartment; something was obviously on his mind. “You have an event this Friday,” he finally turned around with the statement sounding almost like an accusation.

“Yes, a cocktail party. You know about that?”

“Lavinia—she seems to have some vested interest in our relationship.”

This was news to me. “Really? I wasn’t sure she even noticed.”

“She saw me take you home.”

“Here I thought she’d left that night.”

We waited, neither of us knowing what to say.

“So you want to come… to the party?” I finally ventured cautiously.

“Not if I have to ask.”

“No. I just… didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“You could let me decide that.”

“Sure.” My mind instantly took flight, wondering what my world would think of him. This seemed a little too soon to take our relationship out of hiding, but then, who was I kidding? I’d never let anyone else know about us if I had my way. He was too young—which would look foolish to my peers. And his unconventional life—his bike, his theatre, and his look came from a realm light-years away from mine. And yet, if KC and I kept seeing each other, I could hardly keep him a secret.

“It bothers you, the thought of showing up with me?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie, Gail.”

“Okay, yes,” I agreed to be agreeable. “You just don’t fit in. But I suppose that doesn’t matter.”

“Why don’t we see what happens,” he suggested.

We stood in the center of my living room not saying a word for some minutes. The silence was oppressive; and I felt as though I might smother to death. He was tense, I was tense. My crotch was crawling, I needed to fuck. Truth was, I wanted him in this sullen mood, taking me darkly, trapping me with his body, pummeling my pussy raw. But I wanted more than that. My ass seemed to plead for his abuse—his fire and force, and the determination coming from that black cavern inside of him. No, KC was not an easy man. His moods might be as quixotic and incomprehensible as mine. But I think I liked this alarming part of him as much as I liked his other, steadier side. “I think you need to use the belt,” I finally said to break the strain.

“Think so, huh?” he replied being very noncommittal.

I nodded, biting my lip and started to quake with anticipation.

KC went for the buckle at his waist while I watched the ceremony in awe. I saw him pull back the leather and pop the metal from the hole; then watched as the long strap slipped from his waist and one end of the belt unfurled to the floor.

He nodded to a nearby chair, one with a low upholstered back where I could rest my belly. I wish he were taking me over his lap, but this was not the time to argue. Planning to sleep in the nude, I was wearing my bathrobe and nothing else. In one swift movement KC plucked the silk with a swift jerk of his hand. Naked. Not a stitch, my first nude spanking, I remembered thinking. Though, there wasn’t time for thinking much of anything. The leather wrapped my ass with a sharp, crude smack and the punishment began.

This was a night for lots of firsts: nude, belted and ass fucked—the finale to the event. I took quite a beating with KC leveling his leather on my wanting buttocks until it reached that state of fiery bliss that found erotic ends. My skin screamed with heat. I couldn’t wait to have his erection inside my pussy. When he tossed the belt to the floor signaling the end, KC’s hands were on my ass, slapping the red flesh and making it sting even more. Then he pressed close to me, against my left hip, leaning over me to I could hear him speak, “You want more?” he asked as he swatted the hot flesh hard.

“Yes, yes,” I was hissing, rubbing my ass into his smacking hand. “Ooo, ouch, my yessss…” my throaty voice filled with desire.

When he paused, his fingers slipped inside my cunt while my legs parted to allow their entrance. That was not enough, however. His fingers higher, he swathed my anus with the wet results from probing my pussy, then dipped them deep and slowly, letting me relax around the intrusion. My mind flashed back, remembering Rossi, remembering anal fucks and more than that, the crudities my ass endured at his hand.

“You want this, too, don’t you?”

How could I lie? “Yes, but…”

“No buts, darling. Let’s see how wide you’ll spread.”

I thought I’d cum just hearing that remark and feeling the fingers driving deep into the opening hole.

“You did this with him?”

“Yes.”

“And loved it?”

“Yes.”

“And want it now?”

“Yes, yes, please, your cock…”

I didn’t have to plead my case as the truth was understood. Greeting my arousal with his own desire, KC took his lust, frustration and intensity out inside my ass. Having greased the pathway, I was seconds later forcefully entered with his thrusting member widening the doorway further.

Shrieking, I almost came at once. A few proud strokes of his cock, the sensation spilled over the edge. Then I came again as the spasms built to another peak while KC drilled the hole as far as his prick could reach. Hummm, he let loose a low growl, cumming, while my muscles squeezed the milk from his stalk. “Ah, yessss, yes yes,” he was telling me so I milked him more, while I wriggled my ass into his groin, getting to my own end fast. We moved as though we were one solitary being, so that when we finished, I didn’t want him to let me go.

KC didn’t want to let me go either; but it would have been impossible to stay so glued together with me draped over the back of the chair. As he pulled out, I thought I’d lost something; though I seemed to have regained some of his closeness as he put his arm around me and cradled my wasted body.

Later, we sat in my living room facing each other on the couch.

“Tell me about Rossi,” he said, in a refrain I’d hear repeatedly, almost every time I saw him. I suppose I was ready to spill the truth because it came out so easily. After so many years avidly ignoring my memory of the man, and any scene that reminded me of him, my recollection came out fresh, as though it all happened in the last week.

“Rossi orchestrated my senior year,” I started speaking shakily as the images appeared inside my head. “He willfully crept into the corners of my life that aren’t supposed to be the province of a professor—or academic advisor. But then, he did warn me. He began by scheduling my study and work sessions, suggesting that I’d work best in his office environment. By Christmas I was going to the studio in his home for most of my architectural design. He had plenty of room. There was a weird thrill walking in the door of his house. The place was expansive with these fabulous windows looking out into the woods—glass, wood, air, space that seemed to breathe. I couldn’t think of anywhere that would be more exciting to inspire me.”

I looked at KC almost believing he was speaking inside my brain, asking questions, so I kept talking.

“It was more than just the house, though. It was Rossi, being close to him, feeling his fervor for his art, and his passion for me. I felt dwarfed by him, lured by his eccentricities. Behind our interactions, there was always the threat of his heavy-handed discipline, and behind that, the lust. It bred ferociously as soon as I stepped into his world. I seemed to lose myself inside the atmosphere, becoming just another element for him to manipulate.

“At least at the start, our relationship remained platonic. The corporal discipline was routine. Slip-ups, shoddy work, marginal test scores, just about anything was reason enough for him to discipline me. Most of my punishment sessions were precise and formal. I’d raise my skirt, bend over a chair with my palms on the seat, Rossi would lower my panties and deliver twenty-one smacks of a wooden paddle—he had at least a dozen he could choose from…

“I hated them all. The wood scorched my ass and turned it red in seconds. It produced an almost unbearable fire on my skin by the time he was done. I hated it so much that I was relieved when he pulled me over his lap and spanked me with the palm of his hand like he would a child.

“I soon discovered that there was a direct correlation between his own emotional state and how he chose to discipline me. The formal chastisements were devoid of passion—clearly instructional. But if my behavior made him angry, I’d be over his lap for a brisk spanking. I did something that really annoyed him, however—if I got mouthy, or curt, or grouchy—trust me, that didn’t happen often—Rossi would back off, turn to ice, then bend me over and use the cane instead of the paddle.

“He never used leather.”

I sighed as my mind visualized that time…

She was almost at the point of breaking down, where the eyes burn, and it takes some concentration not to flood the face with the gathering tears.

“You have too much going on in your life, Miss Henry,” Rossi said as she stood before him in the study at his home. “I called Mrs. John, your supervisor at work, and rearranged your schedule. She was quite accommodating. You’ll only be working ten hours a week instead of twenty.”

“You did that!” she was appalled.

“Yes. You can’t handle more. I’d say you need to quit, but I know you seem to think you need the extra cash, so we’ll see if this works out. But… if the next two weeks don’t result in an improvement in your work, you’ll need to make some arrangements with your family trust to get your spending money from them.”

“I will not!” she almost stamped her foot.

“I’m afraid you will. We’ve gone too far to stop now. I have your commitment, Miss Henry, and I don’t appreciate your questioning my choices for you. I don’t make mistakes.”

“But…” she was livid, trying to hold back, though she wasn’t very successful in the attempt.

“There will be no quibbling over my decision. I make the rules and you follow them.”

“No! You’ve gone too far this time. You didn’t even consult me.”

“I don’t have to. I have your best interests at heart.”

“Sometimes I wonder.”

“You do not question me, Miss Henry!”

“Well I’m questioning you now.”

“And you should rethink that plan,” he said tersely.

She could see his anger rise the way dust rises around a snorting bull. In response, the roused young woman’s nostrils flared, and her eyes narrowed as the green hue darkened like smoldering embers.

But what had been fired in him seemed to suddenly slip from view. She quaked even more, as much from fright as anger. She’d never seen him this astoundingly taut—as a bowstring ready to snap. Her thighs quaked, panic setting in.

“Come with me,” he ordered, holding out his palm.

She could hardly move.

“Now, Miss Henry,” he said without raising his voice.

She tremblingly obeyed, finding that his grasp was not as cold as his eyes, or the expression on his handsome lips. It electrified her insides; and she could swear that her pussy was anxiously expectant of some sexual result.

He pulled her with him into the private study he used only rarely. She’d peeked inside just once, and noticed only now that it had been fitted with two devices made strictly for the punishment of a misbehaving woman. One was a low bench, complete with straps. The other was a bar, which conveniently hit her at the top of her thighs and allowed for some measure of comfort for a submissive woman. Rossi gave her a firm shove in the center of her back. “Step to the bar and grab the lower rail.”

She looked at him wonderingly, but he was unmoved by any attempt to enlist his sympathies. Doing as commanded, the once angered redhead turned docile and penitent. Struck by both fear and a sweep of erotic pleasure, she bent at the waist and reached low—almost to her feet where a smooth wooden bar was there for her to clutch. She held it tightly, seeing her knuckles turn white as her stranglehold increased with each anxious moment.

Her tight skirt took some tugging, which Rossi did himself. The feel of his hands aroused her more with the eroticism leaping frantically within, and yet, there would be no eroticism at all once he began her punishment. Efficiently pulling her white panties away, he let her naked ass enjoy the cool while he fiddled inside a cabinet and finally withdrew a sleek, thin, polished bamboo cane.

She winced, though the reaction registered more internally than externally.

Though he’d never used a cane on her behind before, she knew, just by his severe attitude that this would cut more deeply and burn more hotly than any punishment she’d known at his hand. Every muscle in her seemed to clench. Her rear cheeks drew tight, and the skin quivered imperceptibly. She grit her teeth and then closed her eyes.

A sizzle suddenly stunned her ears.

Thwack!

“Yeeeeeouwwwww!”