He rains blow after blow on the door and splits it down the middle. I frantically search the bathroom, desperate for anything I can use as a weapon. Shit, there’s nothing. After one more hit, he gains entry. I plaster myself to the wall, my heart in my throat.
“Here’s Art.”
“Let’s talk about this like sensible adults.”
He waves me forward. “Don’t make me come get you.”
I slowly walk towards him as if I’m complying with his command, but I make a run for it when I pass him. He catches me before I can even make it three steps and drags me to the bed.
“Damn caveman! Let me go!”
He tosses me onto my stomach, then drops his heavy body on top of mine to prevent any more escape attempts. He latches onto my wrist and handcuffs me to a bedpost. I crane my head, seeing more handcuffs dangling from the remaining three posts. I didn’t notice them earlier. Once he has all my limbs secure, he leaves the bed.
“This is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you.” He cracks the belt across my ass, hard and fast. It feels as if the skin is being torn from my body.
“Art, please! Stop!” I sob, tears leaking from my eyes.
“You. Will. Learn. To. Obey. Me.” Each word is followed by a brutal strike more painful than the last.
After a few more hits, he’s finally done. My wrists and ankles are released, but I lie there, hurting and in shock.
“Go downstairs and get dressed. We’re going to breakfast.”
Breakfast!
I whip my head in his direction. He stands with his back towards me, slipping on his pants. My control snaps and I launch myself at him. Not surprisingly, he gains the upper hand almost immediately, flipping me around and crossing my arms over my chest, leaving me immobile.
“I hate you,” I sob, sagging against him.
“I explained the rules several times, but you chose to ignore them. To avoid punishment, I suggest you learn to fucking obey, because trust me, I can get a whole lot more creative with my discipline techniques.”
“You don’t care about hurting me?”
“No.” He pushes me towards the door. “Be dressed by the time I get downstairs.”
I won’t be there, you fucking bastard.
“Cin.”
I stop in the doorway, not turning around to face him.
“Don’t run because I will give chase and imagine what I’ll do once I catch you. And just in case that’s not enough of an incentive, think about the better life you can provide for your son and mother with half a million dollars.”
I glare at him from across the booth while he scarfs down his steak omelet like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, I’m squirming, unable to keep still because my ass hurts like a motherfucker. My only solace is imagining dumping the contents of his coffee mug over his head.
“Eat.”
“I can’t eat,” I hiss.
“Why not?” he asks, looking confused as he takes a bite of toast.
“I’m unable to sit comfortably.”
“What does your mouth have to do with your ass?”
“Not a damn thing.”
“Exactly, so eat your fucking food unless you want me tie a bib around your neck and feed you.”
