Hungry for Love (16 page)

“
No you
’
re not
,”
said Bill.

Kevin
’
s face was stormy and his voice was filled with righteous outrage.  He wagged his finger yet another time and said
“
Well I could be.
”
  Then as Bill laughed right in his face—well
,
at his face—Kevin strode from the room
,
thinking Bill would get his
,
delighted to feel completely justified about the plan he had sent into motion.  And for years he
’
d thought of him as a friend—he should have known better.

Chrissy
,
exhausted after having made an attempt to be Suzy Homemaker and scramble eggs for everyone
’
s breakfast
,
which admittedly met with some smiles and thank you
’
s
,
needed to talk to someone
,
so she
’
d automatically headed to Zero Tolerance
,
where there would be someone on a treadmill who wouldn
’
t mind a conversation.  They weren
’
t exactly her friends
,
but more like strangers who
’
d become casual familiars.

Today she was happy to see the Dominant/submissive couple whom she
’
d often chatted up before
,
but whose names escaped her.  In her mind they were always labeled as Butch and Wimp.  About her age
,
Butch was a masculine looking woman who carried a riding crop at all times.  At this moment the crop sat on the book rest of the treadmill where Butch worked out next to Chrissy.  On Butch
’
s other side
,
Wimp
,
six years younger
,
a slender
,
relatively effeminate looking male
,
who was working out in a pair of studded leather shorts and a kind of erotic looking pair of studded leather suspenders
,
which Chrissy knew were not suspenders
,
but she didn
’
t know what these chest straps were called.  They served no purpose as far as she could tell and looked rather comical.  As Chrissy talked
,
Butch and even Wimp listened with rapt attention
,
although now and then Butch would feel compelled to stop for just a second and whack Wimp on the thigh so he would increase his pace on the treadmill.

Chrissy spoke as though her heart had been completely broken. 
“
I spotted him with his partner
’
s wife.  I can
’
t tell you—so humiliating
,”
she sighed.

“
Ahh
,
honey
,”
said Butch with kindly sympathy
,
whacking Wimp even harder.

Wimp yelped briefly
,
then swallowed hard as though he were trying to subdue an inappropriate level of arousal there in the gym. 
“
Did you confront him
?”
Wimp asked.

Chrissy shook her head sadly
,
“
No
,
but Bill mentioned her
,
just like it was so cool
,
so casual
,
so nothing.  But I knew what it was—a dig
,
aimed right at me.
”

Whacking Wimp on the back of the thigh
,
Butch signaled that she wanted him to lift his legs higher as he marched on the treadmill
,
then said to Chrissy with utter disgust
,
“
Flinging it right in your face like that.
”

Delighted to be heard and understood
,
something not even her shrink had provided lately
,
Chrissy nodded intensely. 
“
Exactly!  And I gave up a career for him
,
to be there with him and his kids
,
and those kids are vipers half the time.
”

Wimp continued what appeared to be a quasi-Nazi goosestep on the treadmill but spoke softly in a way that was either paternal or maternal
,
Chrissy couldn
’
t decide.  He said
,
“
Can
’
t really blame the kids
,
though.
”

Chrissy considered this for a while
,
cycling in her mind through all the insults hurled at her by those little monsters and then said
,
“
No
,
I guess not
,
of course not.  I think he
’
s been putting them up to it though.  Can
’
t figure why.  Makes no sense.
”

Butch
,
whacking Wimp once again and looking with some satisfaction at the streaks of red on his slender thighs
,
said sternly
,
“
Stop lagging
,
lazy
,”
then she continued
,
“
Psychological dominance
,
of course.
”

Hearing that
,
Chrissy grew even more concerned
,
a few tears forming in the corners of her eyes
,
and then as she continued
,
she began to sob. 
“
I can
’
t even tell you about the sex.  Last night….
”
  Her sobs grew more pronounced as she said
,
“
What was I thinking.  I don
’
t know anything any more.  And he thinks I don
’
t know what
’
s in that drawer. I know.  I know.
”

Butch and Wimp shared knowing glances.  They could picture precisely the sort of deviant torture devices this monster had hidden in a drawer
,
all without the consent of his partner.  That was against the rules.  It felt a little erotic to them
,
but they knew the rules.

“
Oh you poor thing
,”
sighed Wimp
,
who jumped only slightly when Butch cracked the crop against his ass.

Plaintively Chrissy said
,
“
I tell him what I need…yeah…in one ear.
”
  For how long had she been begging for Bill
’
s help
,
for this drug only he could provide
,
this drug that would be the answer to everything.  And what did he do for her
?
  Nothing.

“
What a user
,”
said Butch
,
clearly enraged.

The tears rolled down Chrissy
’
s face. 
“
I
’
ve given him the best year of my life.
”

“
He
’
s just begging for it
,”
said Wimp. 
“
Somebody should teach him a lesson.
”

Butch nodded vigorously
,
“
Yes—then we
’
d see how quick he puts his foot where his mouth is.
”

Butch and Wimp drove through the streets of
Beverly Hills
in their black
,
Honda CR-V
,
a popular SUV owned by many people.  Both wore black leather and dark glasses.  They had been having a serious discussion for several days as they drove around in search of Chrissy
’
s house
,
but both knew what the outcome would be—whatever Butch decided they should do.

“
It must be right around here
,”
said Butch. 
“
I
’
m sure she said right around here.
”

“
And you
’
re absolutely certain we should be interfering
,”
asked Wimp for about the fiftieth time. 
“
This could turn back around on us.  We could get in trouble.
”