Party Lines by Fiona Wilde Page B

pain.
    “You
have nothing to prove to me or to yourself,” he said. SMACK! SMACK!
    “Owww!”
she cried out. “Stop. It hurts. I won’t do it again.”
    “No
you won’t,” Ron said. “You have no need for self-doubt, no need to
overcompensate. Just because you are a submissive woman does not mean you have
to balance it out by becoming someone you don’t even like.”
    He
began to spank her in earnest now and Lindsay felt herself begin to panic. This
hurt. It really, really hurt and she could hear herself begging him to stop, could feel her legs kicking hard.
    She
heard a ‘thump’ as one of her pumps flew off her foot and hit a nearby table,
but Ron ignored this and continued to spank, now throwing a leg across hers to
more effectively restrain her.
    The
tears were flowing now and Lindsay let them fall, feeling the guilt and angst
draining away from her. She never let herself cry, not really cry as she was
crying now. There were times when she wanted to, but the tears would not come.
Now she feared they would not stop as she wriggled her bottom from side to side
in an effort to escape Ron Sharp’s rapidly descending hand.
    But
her struggles were futile and she knew he was sending her the message that the
punishment would be over when he decided. She was too exhausted to fight much
now and went limp over his lap. But she continued to cry, even as he picked her
up in his arms and laid her on the bed.
    Lindsay
wondered in the back of her mind if he were going to
seduce her now, but he did not. Instead he just laid down beside her and held her, stroking her hair and telling her how everything
as going to be OK.
    “Where
were you when I was in college?” she asked finally when she’d managed to
regulate her breathing.
    “In
college?” he asked.
    “Yeah,”
she said. “I could have used a firm hand then.”
    “You
were in touch with your feelings that early?” he asked.
    “Not
really,” she replied. “I just needed some guidance. I was a student activist
and one night we were all out drinking and did something we shouldn’t have
done.”
    “You
don’t have to tell me,” Ron said, suddenly feeling a panic of his own. Lindsay
was about to offer up some personal information, he knew, that could damage her
if it got out.
    “I
want to,” she said. “We torched the offices of Tri-County Paper after they were
awarded a logging contract. It was stupid and dangerous.”
    Ron
was shocked. “You’re kidding,” he said, then paused. “Does
Clara know?”
    “I
told her,” she said. “But she said hardly anyone remembers it now and it was so
long ago. And besides, at the time I was using my dad’s last name –
Farmer. After that my mother had me change it to her maiden name so people
wouldn’t be able to so easily find out. I wasn’t as directly involved as some
of the other activists and plead down to lesser charges, but still it was
serious. But I’ve often thought that if I’d just done what I knew was right for
myself even then I wouldn’t have the guilt I have now.”
    “Is
that part of why you were crying?” he asked.
    “Yes,”
she said, burying her face in his chest. “I’ve lived a life doing what other
people expected me to do, even if it mean putting myself at risk. Only in the
last few years have I really matured, really started to take ownership of who I
am. I kind of feel like what’s happened with you is the last big step I’ve needed to take.”
    “That
makes me feel good,” Ron said. “I’d like to think this relationship will have
meaning for both of us.”
    “Is
that what this is?” Lindsay asked. “A relationship?”
    “Yes,”
said Ron decisively. “Yes it is.”
    Lindsay
lay there, playing with the buttons on his shirt. “I am sorry for what I did
today. I don’t know what got into me. I don’t want it to happen again, though.”
She shuddered a little. “That spanking hurt. I mean, it
really hurt.”
    “It
was supposed to,” Ron said. “Don’t ever worry