Painful Consequences (9 page)

“But, I am soaking wet, and it’s chilly…”

“Do as you are told. Your punishment is not complete. You have one last lesson to learn tonight. Self-control.”

Brittany’s hand trembled as she handed him the thick towel. Reed sat upon the edge of a padded bench and laid the material across his lap. He patted his thighs. “Over my knee now.”

“Are you going to spank me again?” Brittany felt as though her eyes would fall from their sockets in disbelief.

“Yes, and this time you will not budge, kick, or fight. You will receive fifty with my hand and thank me for each and every one of them. If they do not hurt, you are to ask me to spank you harder.”

“Seriously, Reed, are you insane? Why would I do that?”

“Because you know you deserve it. Because you crave boundaries and someone showing you that you are important enough to take the time to enforce them. Obey me. Quickly.”

Brittany whined as she hoisted herself over the long-legged man’s lap, grabbing his ankle to keep from tumbling over. She cried out as his broad palm landed flat across the span of her wet, tender back end.

“What did you say, darling?”

“One! Thank you, Reed,” she sniffled.

“Should we try that again as a reminder?”

“Nooo, please…” Brittany begged, feeling his hand resting on the backs of her thighs. She spread her legs a small amount, hoping he would notice and take her up on the gesture to touch her pussy instead of spanking her. No such luck.

“Two! Thank you. Threeeeee, owwww… Thank you!” she shrieked, desperately trying to stay still as he picked up his pace and began to harshly lay wide, loud smacks to her already pain-filled cheeks. At twenty, her tears once again turned into heaves of weeping, and she began to bawl loudly, completely disregarding her previous concern for any nosey neighbors. What would they do anyway? Call the cops?

“48…Thank… 49… You… 50! Thank you!!” she forced out, breathing heavily as she wept freely from her position across his lap. Reed allowed her to stay in place and handed her a small box of tissues. His hand felt as hot as her bottom as he rested it on the upper portion of her left thigh, his fingers dangling against the crevice that cried out for attention.

“My body wants yours so badly right now,” he muttered, gently caressing the swollen moons, occasionally drawing his finger between the two and brushing her bottom hole. “I have been wanting you since the minute I met you. But I have to provide an example to you about self-control and choosing not to cave into my own needs, no matter have much they make me ache.”

Brittany sniffled as his rough hand roamed over her back, shoulders, bottom, and thighs. His gestures were sensual, not sexual, and left her feeling confused.

“I want you to touch me,” she admitted, head still dangling down as she clung to his ankle. “I need you. I need to feel you, Reed. Please…”

“Your body wants it, true. But you will allow your mind to take control and not give in.”

“Are you trying to turn yourself into my new addiction?” Brittany asked sincerely. Reed pulled her to a sitting position, stroking her hair gently as he gaze into her face. He ran his hand against her cheek, wiping away her tears.

“I would love being your new addiction. But that was not my purpose tonight. Feel this ache?” he nudged his hand between her thighs, feeling her open to give him access. “If I pulled away and did not relieve it for you, it would eventually go away.”

“Or I could relieve it myself…”

“True, but what would your prefer? Self-gratification or the real thing? Would you be willing to lose the real thing in order to gain a temporary release? Dope is like that. It leaves you believing that you cannot deal with life’s problems without its help. But it is selfish. It thinks only of what it can consume… you.”

“Are you still angry with me?” Brittany asked in a tiny voice, feeling his fingers enter her body again, slowly and carefully.

“I never was angry with you, sweetheart. Come,” he said, standing and lifting her in his arms to carry her into the house. He brought her upstairs and into his bedroom, placing her on the king-sized mattress and pulling a sheet over her naked body. Brittany snuggled under the coverings, looking around the room.

“You never showed me your bedroom before,” she mentioned with a yawn.

“That was because I knew that if I brought you in here, you would not escape with your virtue intact,” he said with seriousness.

“I’m not a virgin, Reed.”

“No, but you are still very innocent. And I… well… I enjoy exploring different options when it comes to sex.”

“Like what?”

“Let's just say I have a bit of a rough side,” he smiled.

“How rough?”

“I enjoy using my woodshed for things other than punishment.”

“Oh…” Brittany bit her lip, understanding. “Are you going to lay down with me at least? I need to be held.”

“Brett is expecting you home and…”

“Please? We could call him and let him know that I need to take a nap. He will be fine with it.”

“I know he would be, but that isn’t my issue. You were punished for a serious offense this evening, and somehow things got turned so it became more of a reward. I don’t need to confuse you even more.”

“Please? We don’t have to
do
anything. Just hold me and let me sleep in your arms,” Brittany begged, making certain that the hardened tip of her naked breast peeked slyly out from under the sheet. With a sigh, Reed called Brett to let him know that Britt would be spending the night. In separate rooms. Brett’s laughter was heard from the receiver as he whole-heartedly encouraged his friend to take advantage of the situation and ‘soothe the savage beast’… which Brett emphasized was in reference to his sister.

Brittany felt the bed sink as Reed sat upon the edge of the mattress. His fingers gently ran across her sleepy, still-inflamed eyes and stroked the damp, smooth cheek. Her long, thick hair was wet, and the braid had loosened, causing her mane to spread out in a tangled disarray beneath her head. She shivered at his touch and purred as he pulled a heavier blanket over her body and gently tucked it in along her sides. Brittany scowled as he covered the partially naked breast without even touching it.

“You are incredibly smart, beautiful, and talented, Britt. I will find a way to get you to believe that of yourself. I have some ideas that we will explore tomorrow.”

“Don’t get your hopes up on me being anything but what you see here, Reed. Face it,” she winced, slowly sitting up and holding the blankets to her chest, “I am essentially useless in the real world. I told this to Brett. I am nothing more than a future trophy wife for some arrogant bastard with a lot of money. These looks will fade in time, unless I have an income to fix them. Everything else is fluff.”

“Do you really believe that of yourself?”

“Yeah, duh. It’s true, and I have no fantasies otherwise.”

Reed pulled her hand into his. “Look at me. I am not a wealthy man. I work hard for everything I have and appreciate life for what it is. Yes, you are beautiful, and I am willing to bet that you will look like your mom when you are her age. I have seen pictures of her, and she has grown more lovely with age. And Brett told me that she has never had plastic surgery.”

“Still…”

“I think you should consider going to culinary school. Learn to be a chef. Follow your heart’s passions, Britt, and don’t let anyone, including yourself, talk you out of it.”

“I can’t afford it, and there is no way I would ask Brett to pay.”

“Start by applying. Promise me that you will think about it.”

“Under one condition,” Brittany eyed him slyly. She pulled his hand to her chest. “You make love to me.”

“No. Britt, I thought I told you that tonight was not about pleasure, but about learning a lesson. Damn…” he grimaced as she began to nibble his fingers. “Please, don’t tempt me. It is already enough temptation to see you every day. I want you. Britt, listen to me,” Reed stood up, pulling away from her. “You have made it clear that you want a man with money. I don’t have a huge bank account. I could give you happiness, fulfillment, and joy, but you said that your priority is the cash.”

“It doesn’t have to be serious. Just for fun.”

“I don’t engage in casual sex. If my heart is not involved, it doesn’t happen. I am already developing feelings for you and realize that if I allowed things to go any further, I will be hurt. I am not going to put myself in that situation again. I’m sorry.” He shuffled to the doorway. “Good night, Miss Wallace. Sleep well. I will be down the hall in the guest room if you need me.”

Brittany watched the door close, dumbfounded by Reed’s refusal of her body. Shame radiated through her as she realized the pain her words must have caused the man. Silent tears began to fall as she buried her face in her hands. First her father, now Reed! Would she always drive away the men she loved and respected the most? She knew then and there that changes needed to be made, but was lost as to how to begin. She was sick and tired, and tired of being sick and tired. She finally understood what it felt like to hit rock bottom. The two months she had experienced in growing a true friendship with this man suddenly felt like a lifetime, and she knew that she did not want to lose him.

The sound of scratching at the bedroom door made her look up and watch as Harry waddled in and made his way across the room. He climbed up on the bed and ruffled his feathers as he settled onto her lap, flipped to his back and meowed. Tears were immediately replaced by mirth as Brittany's sudden gale of laughter rocked the quiet house. Reed rushed into the bedroom and stood in the doorway, watching as she scratched the bird’s chest, making him kick his feet in the air as though he were riding an air bicycle.

“Are you alright?” Reed asked, unaware that he stood before the young woman naked. Brittany’s eyes widened as she gazed at his long lean body in admiration. She suddenly frowned.

“Where did you get that horrible scar?”

Reed looked down, blushing as he realized his lack of attire. He grabbed a robe from his closet and wrapped it around his body. “How did Harry get in here?” he asked uncomfortably.

“He walked. Answer me,” Brittany demanded, opening the robe to look at the puckered scar that started at the top of his left shoulder and traveled diagonally across his abdomen and into his right hip. Reed pulled away from her inquisitive hands and picked up Harry.

“Let’s get you back to your cage. I know I locked it,” Reed grumbled, ignoring the bird’s protests about leaving his friend and her nice warm lap.

Brittany listened to Harry’s complaints, which grew louder as Reed carried him downstairs. It started with “Help!” then turned into “
Nobody loves me! Piece of Shit
!”

Reed returned to her doorway.

“Sorry about him. I told you he was an escape artist.”

“He certainly made it clear that he did not want to be confined,” Brittany smiled, “Reed? Wait. Please tell me about that scar.”

Reed sighed, settling across from her on the bed. He shared the story about being drunk and somewhat of a brawler and how one night he stupidly picked a fight with the wrong person and was flayed open.

“I honestly don’t know how I survived. I had lost so much blood by the time I was taken to the hospital. The knife pierced through my intestines too, so I fought sepsis as well. Took me over a month before they let me leave the floor. By then, I was dried out and at rock bottom with nowhere to go. My family was tired of my drinking, I couldn’t keep a job, and I was too stubborn to try to get into the service.”

“How old were you?”

“Twenty-two. I checked myself into rehab because, honestly, there was nowhere else for me to go. It was that or the streets. There was a sheriff supervising my group who saw something in me and placed himself as my sponsor. He was also the one who got me into the department.”

“Did you ever relapse?”

“Not once, but that was not for lack of trying. Harry saw to it that I didn’t have time on my hands to get into trouble.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah, the damn bird was named after him as a tribute. The old man was killed during a raid five years ago, and I missed his ragging so much that I bought a bird that looked and sounded like him.”

“Harry meowed?” Brittany grinned, forcing Reed to laugh.

“No, but he demanded food and attention. And called everyone a prick. I loved that man as much as I hated him at times.”

“Where is your family?”

Reed looked sad. “They wrote me off years ago. Said I wasn’t worth the time or the effort to bother with. Britt… You have no idea how serious sobriety is to me. That is why I am so hard-assed about it.”

“I really think that I am starting to understand. Your refusal to touch me tonight made me hit that place you call rock bottom. I am tired of being miserable. And I do understand about scars. Brett was in an accident driving us home from a party. We were sixteen, and he had been drinking for several years prior to that. I was in the hospital for two weeks with a head injury.” She lifted her long mane to show him the jagged scar on the left side of her head. “That’s when he quit. I remember how hard it was for him too. Not just giving up the alcohol, but dealing with the guilt of almost killing me. My parents were very supportive of him, though. And so was my older brother. They saw he had potential for something. I remember feeling so left out of everything then…”

“You probably felt ignored and neglected because of all the energy it took for them to keep him focused, didn't you? Was that when you began to smoke?”

“Yeah…” Brittany sighed, hugging a pillow to her chest, “At first it was to see what all the excitement was about. I mean, he was getting so much attention, and no one had any time for me. Then I found out that it helped me forget how much being alone hurt.”

“Did anyone ever say anything to you about it?”

“Nope. I guess it wasn't important enough for them to bother. I wanted them to see that I was hurting too, but they were too distracted with Brett.”

“I hate to say it, but your story is not an unusual one. Can you see that these were your choices, though? They didn't make you choose this path of destruction. You did it on your own.”