by Renard, Loki
There’s a little voice in the back of my head that tells me it’s where I belong too, but I push that voice away. I can change. I can be a better person. I can leave ‘Kitty’ behind and…
Vicious
She’s a brat. An undisciplined little minx who absolutely needs to learn her lesson. I let her storm away and think she’s won. There was no point making more of a scene than she had already made, and I knew it would be all the better when she realized just how much more punishment she earned herself in the process. She’s had the day to lull herself into the delusion that she’s gotten away with something. Now I’m going to teach her a much needed lesson.
Night has fallen by the time I get to her place. I plan to take her in her sleep without waking her and have her wake up back in my apartment. That will show her in ways all the lecturing and thrashing in the world will not, just what I mean when I say she’s mine.
There is no escaping me. No matter what, I will find her, I will bring her back, and her training will resume.
Going up the fire escape to her apartment, I soon realize that I am not alone. The window onto the rusty landing is open and there is a figure inside. Male. Hooded. Bad.
“Shadow, you bloody asshole,” I curse to myself. The male inside isn’t him. It’s one of his minions, one who is about to have a very, very nasty evening. I slip in through the window, behind the intruder, and…
Kitty
I wake in the middle of the night. I must have fallen asleep in the middle of the pep talk I was giving myself. A big man is looming over me. The antique watch beside my bed reads I’m fucked o’clock.
“You really, really need to be taught several lessons,” Vicious drawls out of the darkness.
“So do you, like not being a fucking creep who breaks into bedrooms.”
“You have no security here whatsoever,” he says, ignoring my outburst.
“The door was locked!”
“Locked, yes, but with what? You don’t lock your windows and the door is flimsy hollow core rubbish. You’re basically sleeping on the streets.”
He is ridiculous. Just because he slipped past all my defenses doesn’t mean there weren’t any.
“You need to find someone else to fuck with,” I say as he pulls me out of bed.
“I have plenty of people to fuck. I don’t have nearly as many with talent,” he says, his eyes raking over me. “And none who look this cute in pajamas.”
I could blush at the compliment, but I don’t. I’m so angry at him for waking me up, disturbing me in the middle of the night, scaring the shit out of me, that I aim a kick right at his balls. He sidesteps and makes a tutting sound. “That temper needs addressing.”
“Your delusion needs addressing,” I snap back. All the respect I had for him has gone, along with the fear. He’s just a man. A handsome man, okay, but there are a lot of hot guys out there and most of them don’t think they literally own me.
His hand closes around my wrist, stopping me from taking a swing at him. I want to kick his ass. I know I couldn’t. I know he’s bigger and stronger and so much more male than me, but fuck him. Fuck everything about him.
“Cut that out. You’re only making it worse.”
I complain and struggle as he tosses me over his shoulder and proceeds to abduct me from my apartment. This is probably just another Tuesday night for Vicious, and it’s another sin to add to the growing list. He has really, really pissed me off this time, to use his parlance.
My head is dangling over his back and the floor is almost my entire field of vision.
Suddenly, I don’t care so much about the fact he’s yanked me out of bed.
Something more pressing has my attention.
There’s a body on the floor.
A scream escapes me, a primal sound of distress.
“Who the fuck is that?”
“Oh this guy? He was about two seconds away from killing you,” Vicious drawls. “I warned you, Kitty. You’re in danger. Sometimes I wonder if a word I say gets through your head. You don’t seem to retain any of it.”
The man on the floor is very dead. He’s lying at all the wrong angles. I don’t know how the hell Vicious managed to kill him without so much as waking me. I’ve always been a deep sleeper, but not that deep.
The sight shocks me. Dead people aren’t part of my daily experience. I can’t be as casual about it as Vicious is. Between the rude wake up call and finding myself over his shoulder, I’m totally disoriented.
I thought Vicious would take me out of the apartment, but he stops at my couch and sits down, throwing me over his knee in the process.
“You’re a bad little kitty,” he growls. “And it’s time you learned your lesson.”
His open hand comes down across my ass hard, landing in a hard slap across both my cheeks.
“What are you doing!”
His voice is a low, masculine growl in my ear. “I’ve taken an interest in you, Kitty. You should be more respectful. A lot of young ladies in your position would be thrilled to have an opportunity like this.”
My pajamas slide down over my ass and disappear somewhere down my thighs. His hand returns, bearing blazing pain, whacking my ass and thighs so hard it feels as though my skin is set on instant fire.
“So find one of them, asshole!” My butt is stinging, and so is my pride. Vicious has managed to find a weak point without even trying. And he’s about to push his advantage. He’s whipped me. He’s punished my pussy, and somehow, this is still the worst thing he’s done to me so far. Those previous interludes made me feel feminine and aroused. This does nothing of the kind. This just plain hurts.
I yelp and squeal, shocked, even though I probably shouldn’t be. Vicious does what he wants, takes what he wants. It’s no surprise he’s beating me. I’m probably lucky he’s only using his hand. Vicious is the sort of man who goes as far as he needs to go. I knew I was pissing him off. I just didn’t anticipate… this.
It’s embarrassing. It’s juvenile. It’s possessive. It makes me almost forget about the dead guy on my bedroom floor.
“Vicious! Stop it!”
“I’m not going to stop, Kitty. I’m not going to let you go. If you throw tantrums on the street, you’re going to pay for them later.”
It could be worse. He could be breaking my fingers, or crushing my knees, or some other violent thing that would leave me unable to run once I get out of here. This spanking is embarrassingly intimate, and painful as all hell, especially now his palm is beating an even faster, harder beat on my poor cheeks.
“Vicious!”
“Hurts, doesn’t it, Kitty,” he purrs. “This is going to leave you sore for a while. You’re going to feel it when you sit. You’re going to feel it when you stand and when you walk. You are going to be reminded what it means to disappoint me, and you are never going to do that again.”
He’s crazy, but the pain is building and my gasps are on the verge of turning into cries. I never make sounds of pain. I never give way to pain and fear. It’s something I’m personally proud of, and something I’m not going to break just because this brute is beating me.
“I’ll do this every time,” he promises me. “Every time you disobey me. Every time you rebel. I’m going to take you over my knee and I’m going to make you cry, little girl.”
“I’m not going to cry.”
Vicious
Oh she’s going to cry. She’s going to do much more than that. She’s going to beg and scream and writhe and cum. She’s going to give in to my will because I know how to break people. That’s what I do. And it’s what I’m going to do to her.
“I’ve chosen you, now that’s the end of it. You’re going to be a good girl. You’re going to work for me, and you’re going to do as I say.”
Her ass is bright red. My hand prints are all over it, dozens of fingers imprinted on her skin. She is a tough one. Rebellious. That’s why I want her, because she is prepared to do things that are very bad ideas. She doesn’t care
about the law, she relishes breaking it. That means she also enjoys defying me. I am about to become the ultimate authority figure. The only authority figure in her life.
So far she’s not close to breaking. She’s not even whimpering. Her bottom is a glorious shade, so beautiful I have to concentrate so as not to get distracted. Everything about her is an anomaly. I don’t usually pick women as employees. As a rule, they’re better for fucking than they are for working.
This girl has no idea why she’s in my life. She doesn’t truly understand why I cannot and will not let her go. And she doesn’t know that I’ve been watching her from pretty much the beginning of her career, when she did a job for one of my competitors, which I almost killed her for at the time.
Spanking isn’t generally on the menu of punishments, but this girl begs for it. Her tantrum at getting caught and being called out for it earned her this treatment. The moment she stormed away from me, she guaranteed that her ass would bear the consequences.
As I thrash her, my mind drifts to all her charms as well as her drawbacks. She has a perpetual pout and eyes that sparkle the most when she’s doing wrong. Her body is sinful, curves which make her clothes strain in the most delicious ways, breasts which defy the t-shirt stretched tight over them, generous hips. She’s made for a man. I need to be inside her head. I need more than her mind. I need every part of her. Her heart. Her soul. Her body.
“Let me bloody go!”
Aw how cute. She’s picked up one of my English sayings.
“Not until you learn to behave yourself. Not until you really, truly, deeply understand that I never have any intention of letting you go. Today was a test, and yes, you failed, but that’s what tests are for. To determine where improvement is needed. You have a long way to go, Kitty. I’m going to make sure you get there.”
I stroke her inflamed skin, then slap her cheek again. For a smart girl, she is so incredibly resistant to good sense. It’s only been one day though. I have all the time I need to make her mind me, and I have no intention of relenting in any way.
“I don’t want to improve! I don’t care! I just want a fucking normal life! I want to go to school and be a lawyer or an accountant or something. I don’t want to keep being arrested and maybe one day killed. I just want to be normal!”
The confession tumbles out of her in a torrent. I listen, shaking my head to myself.
“It’s too late, Kitty. Some things, once done, cannot be undone. You’re in so much deeper than you realize. It’s like I told you in the beginning. If I don’t have you, someone else will.”
“Do they at least give fewer beatings?”
“Fewer beatings, more euthanasia.”
“What?”
“I mean you’d be put down, Kitty. There are people who want you dead. And it’s not because of me. It’s because of what you already did.”
“What did I do!?” Her voice reaches a near hysterical peak. “What could I possibly have done for my life to be this fucked up! Just tell me!”
I slap her bottom again, my palm making a hot red mark amid the bright skin. Spanking her is enjoyable. Breaking her to my will is essential. I don’t know that she really wants to find out the reason for all of this. It’s the kind of knowledge which drives stronger, more experienced people than her utterly mad.
“Once I tell you, you can never un-know it. Are you absolutely sure that this is what you want?”
“Yes!” She practically shouts. There’s desperation in her voice, and confusion. Very well. Maybe this will make the difference.
“Some time ago you made a delivery,” I begin to explain. “A small one. Just an envelope. It went to an unassuming address. It was at the beginning of your career, and I suspect you thought it below you even at the time.”
“I don’t remember…”
“You probably wouldn’t.”
“So what was the big deal?”
I slap her ass for the petulant question. “The big deal,” I drawl, “is that the envelope contained a potent, recently engineered neurotoxin. Several people died. The targets, and collateral alike. You were supposed to die too, but it would seem you wore gloves on the day in question and then lost them on the way home. Your carelessness saved you, and the fact that you were unknown at the time kept you safe. Until recently. Now there are people who know what happened. People who want revenge.”
She goes stiff and silent. I hear her breath catching in her throat as she tries to process what I just told her.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Yes, you do.”
Another gasped breath. “I was used to kill people?”
“Are you really surprised, Kitty?” I run my hand over her bottom, back and forth in a calming motion. “You’ve made a living delivering that which nobody else will. You must have realized some of those things would be dangerous.”
“I mean, dangerous yes, but… OW!”
I spank her again, my hand catching her low on her cheeks. I am not going to stop punishing her just because of this revelation. Her disobedience is almost as dangerous as the original act.
“You’re going to follow my orders. You’re going to do as I say. You’re going to stop fighting my attempts to help you, spoiled little brat!”
Each word is accompanied with a sharp slap to emphasize it. Each one makes her yowl, but I notice a difference in her body. She is not fighting the spanking anymore. She is letting the pain sink into her body. She knows she deserves this.
My palm keeps rising and falling, punishing her tender cheeks until I hear a soft sob, the beginning of tears. Still I keep spanking her. She needs this. She needs to feel the pain physically and emotionally. She needs to have this moment burned in her mind so the next time she decides to catch an attitude, she will remember this.
“Why didn’t you just tell me this in the first place?” She wails the question amid the rain of slaps.
“You’re soft, and you think you’re good. This news will devastate you. It might even break you. Or maybe,” I smirk to myself at the ridiculous cliche I’m about to spout. “Maybe the truth will set you free.”
“Who died?” She cries out.
That I’m not going to answer. That will terrify her to her very core. Maybe one day she’ll find out. Maybe one day the monster she has unleashed will tear through the walls I’m trying to build around her. One day, she might have to confront the true depth of her guilt. But not today.
I let her up and stand with her red bottomed self, my hands on her arms as I look down at her and give a series of gentle but firm orders. “Go get cleaned up. Get dressed. Pack what you most want and then come with me. I’m done fighting with you, Kitty. Moving forward, you’ll accept my protection willingly.”
She avoids meeting my eyes. When I’m done speaking she gives a small nod, turns, and does as she’s told.
Kitty
My ass is burning, but truth be told, I barely feel it. The pain Vicious inflicted on me was nothing compared to the sudden ache in my chest. I want to call him a liar, but some part of me knows that this is true.
The bodies are beginning to build up. Someone is looking for me, and it’s not the police. They let me go today because Vicious wanted them to. His influence is nearly complete. It’s not just the underground he controls, but the lawmen as well. I wonder if there is anything he couldn’t do if he truly wanted to.
I escape to the bathroom to clean up. There, I look at myself in the toothpaste specked mirror. I almost don’t recognize myself. It’s the same face I always see, but my eyes are different. They hold the awful weight of knowledge.
I thought I was an innocent being held captive, but that’s not the case. I’m a criminal, just like the rest of these people. I’m no better than Vicious. I might even be worse. I know there’s more to what he’s telling me. I can feel the weight of it, and the urgency of it.
Like a child, I’ve been hiding from that truth. I could ask him to tell me more, and I’m sure he would tell me. I reali
ze now that in spite of everything, he has been gentle with me. Not my body, but my psyche. He has let me play the victim, though I am anything but.
I get ready and soon I am standing in front of him, a backpack over my shoulder. I’ll leave the rest of this. These are the trappings of my old life, the one where I was innocent. The one where I had some kind of hope.
I look into his wicked green eyes and I see my future laid out before me. He’s going to be my master, and my teacher. He’s going to punish me when I fail him. And he’s going to keep me safe.
“Okay,” I breathe. “I’m ready.”
Vicious smiles, that gaze so full of light and life. He opens his arms in an expansive gesture and sweeps them toward the door.
As I walk past him, he stops me, his fingertips beneath my chin, raising my face to his mouth. He drops a gentle kiss on my lips and murmurs.
“Good girl.”
The words make me feel a rush of warmth, but the truth is, I’m not a good girl. I’m a bad girl. I took the easy way out. I worked for criminals instead of going to law school. I ruined lives. And now that karma is coming back to me. If Vicious hadn’t saved me tonight, my story might have been over completely. Now I’m at his mercy. Whatever happens next is up to him, and I am done resisting. This is his city. I just live in it.
10
Kitty
I return to Vicious’ apartment in what feels like disgrace. Slick is no longer here. It’s just me and Vicious and the place seems smaller for that fact. Vicious walks in and pours himself a tumbler of whiskey. He doesn’t offer me any. I stand there with my backpack over my shoulder like a kid at a sleepover, feeling awkward and guilty.
“You can put that in the bedroom,” he says. “Do that, then come out here.”
I do as I’m told, then I come out to see him again. He’s waiting, tall, dark, stern and imposing. I wait to hear what he has to say, knowing I am far from out of trouble.