Liaison

by Natasha Knight

  "Because you interest me. Because I find you beautiful. Because I want to know your pain."

  "I don't know anything about you," she said, trying to make sense of what was happening between them. "What we did earlier, I've never done…those things… with a stranger."

  "I don't think we'll be strangers long. Tell me, why are you here alone, Gabrielle? What brings someone like you to a place like this alone?"

  She searched around her, taking another sip of wine. He remained studying her, his eyes not unkind. She wanted to tell him the truth, to let him see her. Would he want to have anything to do with her once he learned her secret? Or was pushing him away just another way of punishing herself?

  "I used to come here with my husband," she said, taking a large sip of wine as he digested this information. Whatever he felt, he hid it well as he remained watching, waiting for her to continue. "He died two years ago and this is the first time I’ve returned here."

  "I’m sorry for your loss," he said.

  She nodded, acknowledging his comment. "I don’t know that it’s…fair…for me to be here with another man in my bed."

  "Fair?" he asked just as Luciana served their starter: a plate of various meats with olives and crusty bread.

  "Fair, right," she nodded when he offered her some of the meat but hunger wasn’t what she was feeling at the moment.

  "I lost my wife some years back," he said, his attention on serving her.

  "I’m sorry," she rushed to say, berating herself for her self-centeredness. "How old was she?" He couldn’t more than forty, forty-two she guessed.

  "Early thirties." He set his fork down. "Don't feel sorry, she chose to die."

  "Do you mean…suicide?"

  He nodded once, his eyes darkening if that was possible.

  "Do you have children?" she asked.

  "A daughter. She’s ten now and spending some time with her grandmother."

  "Oh. It must be very difficult."

  "She was very young, thankfully. She's the reason I survived. Do you have children?"

  She knew he couldn't want to talk about this and she was fine to leave it.

  "No, we were waiting, wanting things to be just right. They never are though, are they?" she asked, regret casting shadows behind her eyes.

  It was quiet for a few moments and when she continued to look down at her plate, he lifted her chin so that she had to look into his eyes. "The pain won't let you go until you face it." He let the words weigh into her consciousness. He was right; she knew that. The only way out was through. "Have you faced yours, Gabrielle? Or does it still hold you in its grip?"

  She only stared at him, eyes wide. He knew the answer to that question or they wouldn't be having this conversation. Her heartbeat quickened and a cold sweat covered her body. "It was my fault," she whispered.

  "What was his name?"

  "William," something tight twisted around her heart.

  "How did he die?" he asked, taking one of her shaking hands in his.

  "A car accident. We’d been at a party, it was toward the end of the evening, there weren’t so many people left and we’d all had a little bit to drink. The host was an old friend of mine, an old lover actually." She tried to gauge his reaction but his face remained impassive. "William walked in on us. It was stupid, it was nothing, just two drunk adults acting like children. We were just kissing, nothing else. It just happened, out of nowhere." She took her hand from his and wiped at her tears.

  "Go on," he said, not reaching to comfort or touch her, just listening to her confession.

  She gathered her strength, composing herself. She needed to do this. She’d been keeping it inside her for so long. "He was so angry, I’d never seen him like that." She sipped her wine. "I ran after him, trying to explain, trying to talk to him, but he wouldn’t have it. He shrugged me off, shoved me when I tried to take the car keys away. He drove off so fast."

  She’d known what would happen, had known that was the last time she’d see William alive. Something inside her told her that even before the call came. It was the same voice that reminded her of her guilt almost daily. "He ran a light, got hit on the driver’s side hard. I didn't even get to see him one last time to say how sorry I was." Quiet tears streamed down her face. "So you see, Julian," she gulped down the rest of her wine. "When everyone was telling me how sorry they were, what a loss it was, I knew all along that I was responsible. That it was my fault he died."

  It was silent for some time before Julian spoke.

  "Our second child was stillborn," he said. "Helen blamed herself and I didn't see the guilt she was carrying until it was too late. We were both suffering and we had our daughter to take care of." Julian put a hand on her knee and squeezed. "Guilt left unpunished will devour you from the inside out."

  She nodded. She knew that well.

  "Do you need to be punished, Gabrielle?" he said so quietly she was sure she’d misunderstood.

  "What?" she asked, swallowing hot tears.

  "Do you need me to punish you?" he asked.

  "I don’t understand," she said, confused.

  "Nothing to understand. Eat your dinner now, we’ll talk later when we have more privacy," he said as Luciana placed their plates in front of them and quickly left.

  "Tell me about your daughter," she said, forcing a bite of ravioli into her mouth, trying to put the strange conversation out of her mind. "What's her name?"

  "Brigitte," his face lit up when he said her name. "She’s charming, clever and a carbon copy of her mother in so many ways." He reached for his wallet and brought out a picture. "This is just a few weeks ago," he explained. "She was in a play so she’s in period costume."

  "An actress," Gabrielle said, the conversation lifting her spirits.

  "Definitely. I’m quite proud of her. We're very close, although she battles like her mother used to!"

  They both giggled and she noticed that he kept his eyes on her the entire time he spoke. It was as if he were gauging her reactions, trying to figure her out. They finished their meal and as he helped her stand, he said, "I meant what I said earlier, I won't judge you."

  Their eyes locked for a long time. "What did you mean about punishing me?" a voice that sounded very much like her own asked.

  Chapter Three

  "Shall we have a drink in my room? It's just a little farther than yours," he asked. "We can talk about that."

  "All right," she answered, unsure what she should be thinking.

  They walked past her room to another building farther from the main house. "Its' only me in this building," he said, reaching into his pocket for the key. He unlocked and opened the door, inviting her in as he switched on a light.

  "This is lovely," she said, looking around the small apartment. She walked straight to the French doors leading to the back patio. Taking a bottle of wine and two glasses, he opened the doors and they stepped outside.

  "Wow," she said, turning to take in the panoramic view. She could see the side of the building she was housed in but there weren't any windows facing in this direction.

  "Join me," he said, holding out a glass and offering her a seat next to him.

  She did, sipping the wine.

  He got right into it. "I've stopped wondering if I could have saved my wife," he began. "But I know for a fact that guilt left unpunished is like an open wound. It will fester and infect everything else around it. No living being can thrive much less survive under those conditions."

  She drank a big swallow of her wine.

  "I'll punish you, if you allow me to."

  "I don't understand. Punish me how?" she asked.

  "I'll give you physical pain, a spanking to start for example, to help alleviate your guilt. You'll take pain, as you believe you've caused pain."

  "I don't think a spanking is what I need," she chuckled, unsure how to react to this strange conversation.

  "I can use my belt if you prefer."

  She swallowed hard, but his face told her he
wasn't joking.

  "You're serious," she said.

  He blinked, allowing her time to process.

  "I've never been spanked," she said, surprising herself.

  "You'd have a safe word, two actually."

  "What?"

  "A safe word, one to tell me if it's getting to be too much and a second to say stop," he said, finishing the last of his wine. "You'd be safe all along, knowing you'd have the ability to stop the scene at all times."

  "Did you spank your wife?" She was sorry as soon as the words left her mouth.

  He exhaled and took a moment to answer. "This is about you and me, not my wife."

  Was this really happening? She wondered as she drank the last sip of her wine. He was so confident, so at ease. She didn't doubt that if she said yes, she'd experience something like she never had before. She considered him, knowing he was aroused, his pupils already dilated, and there was no missing the erection between his legs. Her panties suddenly felt moist at the image of being taken over his knee and spanked.

  He was a stranger, almost. They'd been intimate, yes, he'd given her two amazing orgasms. He'd talked to her about things her best friends couldn't or wouldn't bring up. In the few hours she'd known him, she'd already seen a side of herself that was unsettling to say the least.

  But even given that, if she were honest, there was nothing she wanted more at this very moment than to say yes to his proposition.

  "Yes," she answered.

  He smiled and took her hand in his before bringing his mouth to hers. Although it was only a brief meeting of their lips, it was one of the most erotic kisses she'd ever shared with a man.

  "Let's choose your safe words. How about yellow for close to too much and red to stop?"

  She nodded, "OK."

  He reached out and pulled the clip out of her hair, letting it fall down her back as he studied her. "Are you ready, Gabrielle?"

  "I…Yes."

  "Stand up."

  She did.

  "Take off your clothes."

  "Should we go inside?" she asked, looking around.

  He shook his head and poured another glass of wine for himself.

  Her pussy throbbed. Reaching back, she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. Her nipples hardened either from excitement or the cool night air as she reached for her panties and slid them down.

  "You're beautiful," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "Take your clothes inside, fold them neatly and put them and your shoes by the door. Then choose a corner, doesn't matter which one, and stand with your nose touching the wall and your hands clasping opposite elbows behind your back. Your legs should be spread to shoulder width. I'll join you shortly. Any questions?" he asked, adding, "You won't be allowed to speak unless you're spoken to or need to use one of your safe words once we begin."

  "Just one question I think. How many strokes?"

  "We'll just see how you react. I promise I will only give what you can take, not more, not less."

  She nodded, her eyes wide.

  "All right, go get ready."

  She picked up her things and walked inside. Her heartbeat was remarkably calm as she followed his instructions, setting everything on the floor by the door. She chose the corner farthest from the patio and, clasping opposite elbows behind her back, brought her nose to the wall as he'd instructed. She then spread her legs, her pussy lips opening hungrily as moisture coated them and waited.

  ***

  Julian sipped his wine, looking calm by all outward appearances even though he wanted nothing more than to walk inside, pull her over his knee and spank her pretty little bottom. But he wanted her to have this time to think, to begin the process of relinquishing her power to him. He imagined she was aroused but at the same time, she would be feeling other things as well. He was curious how she'd react.

  He waited a good fifteen minutes before following her in, leaving the doors wide open. She stood as he'd told her to and he could her hear sniffling.

  "Gabrielle," he said.

  "Yes?" she asked.

  "Was your nose touching the wall at all times?"

  "No," she didn't hesitate to answer and didn't lie. That was good, she trusted him.

  "Why not?"

  "I got tired," she said.

  "Come here," he said.

  She obeyed, looking up into his face as he stood just inches from her.

  "Why are you crying?" he asked as he unbuttoned and rolled his shirt sleeves up, exposing powerful, tanned forearms with a dusting of dark hair.

  "I don't know." Her answer called forth more tears.

  He took her chin in his hands when she dropped her gaze. "Look at me," he said, easing her face up and meeting her eyes. "Just breathe and let yourself feel everything. Let me take care of you."

  She nodded, still crying.

  He sat on the edge of the bed so she stood facing him. Reaching out, he ran his fingers through the dark triangle of hair at her pussy. That would have to go, but only if she decided to see him again after tonight. He pulled at it before his hand traveled beneath to find her moist sex. "Spread your legs," he said.

  She did.

  He glanced at her face as he caressed her, slipping a finger inside and pulling slowly out. "You're very wet," he said. He spent a few moments playing with her, teasing her, rubbing and pinching her clit while slipping a second finger into her pussy. When he retrieved his hand, he brought his fingers to his lips and, eyes glued on hers, licked them clean. He then brought that same hand to hers, caressing it softly, tickling her wrist for a moment. "Ready?"

  "Yes."

  He pulled her over his knee, settling her torso on the bed as he draped one of his legs over the backs of hers. With his left hand, he rubbed her back, comforting her but also making sure she couldn't get up. "Put your hands over your head or under your chest, but do not move to cover yourself. If you can't do this, I can bind you. What do you prefer?"

  "I'll try," she said. He didn't want to tie her, not this first time.

  He then turned his attention to her bottom. He didn't speak as he cupped the cheeks, tickling the crease of her thigh. Her buttocks were soft, round mounds, whiter than the rest of her. The skin was smooth and reddened quickly when he pinched it lightly.

  She gasped as he did this and he circled his palm over both cheeks before beginning.

  ***

  The first slap came swiftly and surprised her after his gentle caresses. She caught her breath and immediately moved to straighten. His hand between her shoulder blades, however, held her firmly in place. He followed with a second stroke to her other cheek and she imagined her buttocks flattening under his palm before rounding again, waiting for the next spank.

  He continued as she pulled her hands under her chest, unsure she'd be able to keep from covering herself.

  "It hurts!" she called out as the blows came harder and at a faster pace. She squeezed her eyes shut as he spanked one cheek then the next several times before pausing to rub them which only seemed to intensify the sting of his palm when he struck again. She counted to herself as tears sprung from her eyes. She hadn't imagined a spanking could be so painful and yet, at the same time, so exciting.

  By the time he'd reached twenty, she was openly crying and squirming to get free. He carried on and held her in place.

  "Gabrielle," he said after an especially rough series of blows. "Your ass is bright red."

  She cried, "is it over?" she asked.

  "Not yet. I need to add a few more because you didn't keep your nose to the wall like I'd asked. But I don’t want you to struggle. Can you be still for the remainder of your punishment?"

  She didn't answer.

  "Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

  Her ass burned but his hand caressing the ultra sensitive flesh also felt good. "No, I don't want you to stop."

  "Good girl. I want you to lift your ass to me. If you can, take your arms out over your head again, let your toes touch the floor and lift your hips. Can you d
o that?"

  She shifted her body as he asked and he waited as she put some weight into her toes and arched her back. "You're a very good girl. Ten more strokes, then, I'll fuck you. Would you like me to fuck you?" His hand had now moved to her pussy again, opening the lips, his fingers inside her. She could only moan.

  "Answer me, tell me what you want."

  "I want you to spank me then fuck me."

  "Count it out," he said, and began.

  "One!" these strokes came hard and fast as she struggled to hold her position, keeping her ass lifted. "Two, ouch! Three…four…please, oh god…." Gabrielle closed her eyes as the blows landed, focusing on her breath, on the sound of his hand meeting her flesh, on the sting on her nearly numb buttocks. Lifting her hips higher, she offered her ass to him as he delivered the last of her punishment. "Five, six, please, seven…" her throat made sounds she didn't know she could make as he continued. "Eight. Nine. Ten!"

  He stopped and she exhaled, still crying, as he moved from under her so she lay flat on her belly. She looked back to see him strip off his clothes, his cock huge. He unwrapped a condom and sheathed himself. "On your knees, get your shoulders down on the bed."

  She obeyed as he watched, her ass lifted so high she knew she was completely exposed, every part of her. His hands settled on her cheeks, spreading them even further when his cock pressed into her pussy. "I won't be gentle," he said.

  He began thrusting fast, her muscles tightened around his cock, her body tingling as orgasm neared then exploded inside her. She called out when he spread her further and fucked her so hard she lay flat on her stomach. He settled on top of her, pulling her wrists over her head and burying himself in her until his cock twitched and he came hard, his body heavy on top of hers.

  Chapter Four

  Gabrielle woke before him just as the sun was coming up. Her bottom felt tender and she recalled the events of the evening prior. Her face blushed red as she rose from the bed and gathered her clothes, quietly pulling her dress over her head before slipping out the door.

  Quickly she made her way to her room and ran the shower. Stripping, she turned her back and looked at herself in the mirror. Her ass was tender, but that was all. She'd shower and go for a swim and think about what he'd told her before they'd fallen asleep.