of the water. She felt the washcloth against her labia, felt his finger wrapped in terrycloth penetrate her, circle her pussy, then retreat to thrust in again. She bit her lip against the unexpected pleasure, then relaxed and accepted. He washed her intimate folds, pulled gently at her clit, and then raised her buttocks to wash her bottom. She tightened against his finger penetrating her ass, then winced as he flicked a finger hard against her clit in unspoken reprimand.
When he re-soaped the washcloth and ran it again back to her ass, she remained still, trying not to tense as his cloth-wrapped finger wormed its way into her. He massaged the inside of her anus, surprising her with the way it made her feel. Excited.
Eager.
She risked a glance at him. His face was devoid of expression. He could have been somewhere else entirely for all the interest he showed.
From nowhere came a flash of resentment. He was male! The least he could do was pretend some interest in her as a woman. He could pretend he enjoyed arousing her How could he ram his finger up her ass as if it meant nothing?
34
Sweet Discipline
He let her leg plop into the water with a small splash. He dropped the washcloth, and lathered his hands. With care, bare-handed, he washed her breasts, shoulders and underarms, adding a muscle-deep massage as he kneaded away her lingering pain.
Along with the pain, her indignation eased, replaced with a fresh awareness of her body. She could almost imagine he was her lover, stroking her in foreplay, arousing her to almost unbearable excitement. Not that she’d ever had a lover do that, but she could dream.
She forced an eyelid open. He was attractive in a chiseled, masculine way. Seen this close, his eyes, which she’d imagined to be as black as his hair, were brown. A warm, chocolate brown. Too bad they belonged to this severe, humorless tyrant. Even his hair, clipped short, added to his austere look.
But oh, he did have good hands. His fingers worked on the sore muscles in her upper arms, drawing from her both pain and resistance. Remembering to put a finger beside her lip as he’d instructed, she sighed. “That feels good.”
She barely heard his response. “Wait until tomorrow.”
* * * * *
For sure that was one way to lose weight. Exhaust the clients into oblivion, then watch them waste away to nothing. She wished she had a scale to see just how much she’d lost, but there wasn’t one anywhere in her suite. She’d asked the woman who delivered her breakfast if she’d bring her one, but the woman had shaken her head, said nothing, put down the tray and left.
Norris spooned another grapefruit segment into her mouth. She hated grapefruit but this morning, it was heaven. Sleep had restored her appetite and her resentment about the way she’d been treated so far at Sweet Discipline . All her rancor was directed at one person, the man who had subjected her to humiliation and pain. After her experiences yesterday, she determined there were going to be some changes around here. After all, she was the client and deserved to be treated with respect and care.
The hall door opened.
“Be with you in a minute,” she said without turning to look.
“Norris.”
At the sound of displeasure in that deep baritone, she knew she was in trouble. She scooped up the last sliver of dry wheat toast and turned, still chewing.
“Norris.”
She felt her heartbeat pick up speed. How could he do this to her? She hated feeling like a child with her hand in the cookie jar. What now?
He pointed a finger at the floor. What? Oh, that stupid kneeling routine. She hesitated, then thought that the sooner she indulged him, the sooner she’d get busy 35
Bonnie Hamre
with her program. She slipped off the chair onto her knees. She fumbled with the edge of her tunic, trying to pull it down her thighs. Flabby thighs.
“Be still. Did I give you permission to eat?”
Angry with herself for feeling cowed, she glared at him. “I was
When he re-soaped the washcloth and ran it again back to her ass, she remained still, trying not to tense as his cloth-wrapped finger wormed its way into her. He massaged the inside of her anus, surprising her with the way it made her feel. Excited.
Eager.
She risked a glance at him. His face was devoid of expression. He could have been somewhere else entirely for all the interest he showed.
From nowhere came a flash of resentment. He was male! The least he could do was pretend some interest in her as a woman. He could pretend he enjoyed arousing her How could he ram his finger up her ass as if it meant nothing?
34
Sweet Discipline
He let her leg plop into the water with a small splash. He dropped the washcloth, and lathered his hands. With care, bare-handed, he washed her breasts, shoulders and underarms, adding a muscle-deep massage as he kneaded away her lingering pain.
Along with the pain, her indignation eased, replaced with a fresh awareness of her body. She could almost imagine he was her lover, stroking her in foreplay, arousing her to almost unbearable excitement. Not that she’d ever had a lover do that, but she could dream.
She forced an eyelid open. He was attractive in a chiseled, masculine way. Seen this close, his eyes, which she’d imagined to be as black as his hair, were brown. A warm, chocolate brown. Too bad they belonged to this severe, humorless tyrant. Even his hair, clipped short, added to his austere look.
But oh, he did have good hands. His fingers worked on the sore muscles in her upper arms, drawing from her both pain and resistance. Remembering to put a finger beside her lip as he’d instructed, she sighed. “That feels good.”
She barely heard his response. “Wait until tomorrow.”
* * * * *
For sure that was one way to lose weight. Exhaust the clients into oblivion, then watch them waste away to nothing. She wished she had a scale to see just how much she’d lost, but there wasn’t one anywhere in her suite. She’d asked the woman who delivered her breakfast if she’d bring her one, but the woman had shaken her head, said nothing, put down the tray and left.
Norris spooned another grapefruit segment into her mouth. She hated grapefruit but this morning, it was heaven. Sleep had restored her appetite and her resentment about the way she’d been treated so far at Sweet Discipline . All her rancor was directed at one person, the man who had subjected her to humiliation and pain. After her experiences yesterday, she determined there were going to be some changes around here. After all, she was the client and deserved to be treated with respect and care.
The hall door opened.
“Be with you in a minute,” she said without turning to look.
“Norris.”
At the sound of displeasure in that deep baritone, she knew she was in trouble. She scooped up the last sliver of dry wheat toast and turned, still chewing.
“Norris.”
She felt her heartbeat pick up speed. How could he do this to her? She hated feeling like a child with her hand in the cookie jar. What now?
He pointed a finger at the floor. What? Oh, that stupid kneeling routine. She hesitated, then thought that the sooner she indulged him, the sooner she’d get busy 35
Bonnie Hamre
with her program. She slipped off the chair onto her knees. She fumbled with the edge of her tunic, trying to pull it down her thighs. Flabby thighs.
“Be still. Did I give you permission to eat?”
Angry with herself for feeling cowed, she glared at him. “I was
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