Cries of Penance by Roxy Harte

inside me, and I fight back tears. I miss their father so badly.
    With my eyes closed, I stil see the blue. Blocking out the ringing telephones, copying machines, and people chatter on the other side of my closed door, I can even see the shadows cast by the flickering flames of candles spent long ago.
    There was a time when I was solely his, Garrett and I had separated so that I could spend three months finding my darkness with Lord Fyre. Our time was cut short. God, our time is always being cut short. But that particular time was because his estranged wife was having a baby. He rushed to her side and she 53

    Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte
    wasn’t even carrying his child. I wonder if he wil be so noble when my time to deliver comes.
    Fighting tears is useless. I want to cry. I want to sob and rant and rave and scream, and although it might be al right for Kitten to do any one of those things at Lewd Larry’s, Celia Brentwood, CEO of The Darkness has to represent at least a modicum of respectability.
    Silent tears slide down my cheeks as I embrace the memory of Lord Fyre paying tribute to my body a final time before leaving me for his wife. I laid across his bed face down, my body exhausted from a night wel -spent and warmed from the attention he paid it with paddle, flogger, and his bare hand. I was surprised when he asked, “Are you ready for the birch cane, sweetheart?”
    He’d never used a cane on me before. No one had. And I was so afraid. I almost safe-worded, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I loved Lord Fyre so in that moment that I would have al owed him to do anything he wanted to my body.
    Surrendering to the fear was the hardest part but once I did, once I said, “I am ready, Lord Fyre,” I knew utter and complete peace.
    He helped me to rol over, because my body was already settling into the pain of our previous encounter, and then there was no delay, no time to regret or renege.
    The birch landed across the tops of my thighs. Once, twice…four times.
    Agonizing pain split me in two, making my body spasm in reflex. I screamed and covered my thighs with my hands, not because I wanted him to stop. Because I didn’t. Primal instinct made me try to protect myself from more injury.
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    Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte
    I was trying to force myself to relax, embarrassed I couldn’t, when he flicked the birch against my stomach. My hands flew to the new source of pain. I wasn’t consciously in control any more, my body reacted on instinct. He would have had to restrained me at that point to keep me from trying to block the blows, but I didn’t know where or when the birch was going to bite next. I’d stopped screaming, I was resolved to more pain.
    More pain.
    Anything for Lord Fyre.
    Anything to please him.
    Because he was saying goodbye and as far as either of us knew, he was saying goodbye forever. He would never own me again. Never master me again.
    He slashed the cane against the inside of my thigh and the pain tore through me, such ridiculous pain, I sat up. That was the reflexive move. That was the only way left to protect myself. I sat up and threw my arms around his neck, not begging him to stop, not begging him to stay, but begging him to remember me…without words...just with the language of my body, then he left me.
    And now he’s gone again.
    At least this time I have his promise to return.
    My secretary, Hol y, buzzes my intercom. “Celia? Line three.”
    I sit up, wiping my face and grabbing a tissue before pushing the intercom button. “No cal s, Hol y. Remember?”
    She answers, “I know, I’m sorry, but he said it was urgent and I thought…
    Celia, it’s Thomas.”
    “Fuck, Hol y, why didn’t you say that.”
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    Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte
    I pick up line three. “Thomas?”
    “Why aren’t you answering your cel ?”
    He sounds frantic, and I wonder what is wrong but then I realize he is worried about me. I rummage in my purse and find my cel , my Thomas only cel ,