“Yes,” she says sullenly.
In the feed, I see her inch the phone away from her, as if she’s preparing to hang up. Without my permission. “Oh, and one more thing, Seraphina.”
She brings the phone back to her ear and waits quietly.
“When I get back, Iwillpunish you. And if you try this bullshit again while I’m away, I will have Logan take a belt to you. Is that what you want?”
In the feed, I see her clutch the side of the table, as if to keep herself from falling. I feel a pang of compunction, threatening her with something I’d never let happen. No one touches her but me. Still, she needs to understand she can’t do whatever she wants. Even with me far away.
I bury the guilt under my anger and wait for her response.
“No, sir,” she mutters, but I detect a note of defiance in her voice.
I choose to ignore it for now, and hang up.
-
The next few days pass far too slowly. I manage to keep my mind on the meetings, and even succeed in getting the bullshit charge dropped against Lucy. She returns to Devil Tower, and I breathe easier now that she’s once more in charge of the meals.
Meanwhile, my pet has returned to an outwardly submissive state. She spends most of her time staring at the polar bear-shaped hole in the wall. She doesn’t wait by the phone anymore, and something about that upsets me, though I don’t know what it is exactly.
Finally, I’m done with meetings. I take a red-eye plane back and arrive in the morning. The first thing I do is head down to her apartment. She’s already up, showered and dressed. She’s sitting on the couch, her eyes glued to the wall, a glazed expression on her face. When I enter she looks up, but doesn’t react apart from a slight tensing of her shoulders.
I stop in front of her. “Get up.”
She swallows hard, but obeys.
“Lean over the armrest.”
I can see her legs buckle as she bends over, her head pressed against the tufted back of the couch.
Gritting my teeth, I slide the zipper down from her dress and pull down her panties. Her clothes land in a puddle around her feet. She isn’t wearing a bra, as usual. Any thought of mercy evaporates as I drink in her naked curves. Her tiny waist, the swell ofher hips, her full bottom. Clearly, she’s forgotten who she belongs to. I’m going to mark her well. See that she doesn’t forget again in a hurry.
I take my belt off, fold it in two, and bring it down on her ass. She doesn’t react. I bring it down harder, and her body tenses under the strain, but still she manages to stay still.
It takes a long while for the first cry to escape her lips. Even then I keep going, striping her from her lower back to her thighs. I don’t stop until she’s fallen to her knees, quiet sobs making her body quake, though she still hasn’t made a sound.
I lift her up in my arms and bring her to her room. Clearly she’s hoping for something else from me now, panting hard as I set her on the bed, but I have no plans to give it to her. She needs to realize what punishment means.
“Get on your stomach,” I order.
She does so at once, and I nod, pleased to see her so obedient. Maybe the trouble is I’ve been too soft with her. I’ve let her imagine she has some power over me. I’ll need to be more careful going forward.
Grabbing the first aid kit from the bathroom, I dab antiseptic onto a few of the angry red stripes that have broken under the repeated strikes of the belt. I wanted to mark her, but I don’t like to see that I’ve made her bleed.
“Rest for a while,” I tell her. “The pain will be better by morning.”
I walk away, stopping at the door when she calls my name.
“Damien… can’t you stay with me?”
“I have to work.”
“Can I eat dinner with you tonight?”
I clench my jaw. “You lost that privilege when you disobeyedme.”
The sobs that rack her chest as I leave are far more intense than those in reaction to her beating.
