The Painter

by Courage Knight

  "I'll load your things then, if you want to take a last look around to see if you forgot anything," he offered.

  "I don't need a ride, Kerrick. But thank you. I'll just take the money, and call a cab."

  His lips thinned, like they did when he was getting angry - something she had learned very quickly to recognize. A small fear iced down her spine. He was going to pay her, wasn't he? Somehow, taking his money made her feel cheep, like maybe she'd earned it in his bedroom, but she knew better. He was paying her for posing for him. The sex, that had been a bonus.

  "I'm going to take you home, Shamika," he said quietly.

  "That's too bad. Because I'm not going home."

  "Yes, you are."

  "You! You stop that! You are not my employer any longer! And you don't know what you're talking about! I can't go home. Not now. Maybe not ever again!"

  "I need to talk to your dad, honey. And I am not going to let you call a cab. End of discussion."

  "It is not the end of this discussion! What do you want to talk to him about? You don't know him. He won't like you, he won't want to talk to you. And you can't tell him that I posed for you naked, or he'll never speak to me again!"

  "Shamika, if it's going to cause that much trouble for you, then I won't sell your paintings."

  "Kerrick! No! They're beautiful! And - and it would make these past six weeks seem like a waste if you don't!"

  "Shamika-"

  "And my name's not even Shamika. That's a stage name, the one I want to use when I become a real model. My given name is Shannon Michaels."

  "I know." He took off his coat and hung it in the closet. He started to unzip hers, then, and hung her jacket up as well. She gulped, not liking the stern, determined look on his face. That look usually meant one thing. He was going to spank her again.

  She backed up, her hands hovering over her bottom. "Kerrick? Um, it's my last day. The contract is over - we're through here. Just pay me the money, and I'll go."

  "You would do that - walk out of here, and never see me again?" He swallowed, looking like he'd just eaten something distasteful.

  She couldn't lie to him. Not directly. She looked away and tried an evasive answer. "I'd do what I thought you wanted me to," she whispered.

  "Well, you don't have to think about it, because I'm going to tell you. You lied to me about your name. Then, even though you've had six weeks to tell me the truth, you waited until now. A long, on-going lie like that deserves a long, on-going punishment. I'm going to spank you now, and every single night until we reach your home. Until I talk with your father. And you will never, ever lie to me again, Shannon Michaels. Got it?"

  "Uh, no, Kerrick. No more spankings! I won't sign another contract with you, and I won't let you spank me again!"

  "You never signed a contract in the first place. That's another lie."

  Shannon's eyes widened. How had he known? How long had he known? Had he known even before he'd spanked her that very first time? Oh, damn! Oh, double damn! Oh - he had no right to spank her! Ever!

  "If you lay one hand on me, I'll - I'll scream!"

  "If you wish it to be that way, I could use the cane instead of my hand."

  Shannon gulped. All the bravado left her. Tears filled her vision and flooded down her face. She didn't want to leave him! She loved him. She wasn't sure when it had happened, but it had. She knew she could never be that special to him - he was a cultured artist and she was a little hick. He was a few years older and a lot more experienced. She had lied, cheated, and stole just to get this job. Nothing he knew about her was true! How could he love her?

  Shannon put her arms around him and cried. He returned the embrace, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "Sh, baby. There - there, now. I won't use the cane. Not today. Not when we have a long drive ahead of us. Although I believe you deserve it for keeping such a lie this long. And so at the end of our journey, I will give you six with the cane."

  "It isn't that," she sobbed. And then she proceeded to tell him everything. How she'd dropped out of college early, got a refund from the business office, and ran off to Chicago - basically, stealing money from her father. Then the money ran out - as she'd been robbed. She told him about overhearing the models in the bar, and coming early to try to steal the job from them. She told him everything, except how much she loved him.

  Kerrick looked sad, but not angry when she finished. He kissed her forehead again, then started to undress her. First her sweater, then her jeans. He took off her shoes and socks, her bra, and her panties, until she was naked once again. Then he sat on the couch and positioned her over his knees. Shannon gulped at the now familiar position. This one would be hard. Very hard. Maybe the hardest spanking he'd ever given her, because she had so much to atone for.

  And so it began.

  Compared to the first spanking, this was much more thorough. He'd had a lot of practice. He spanked her right cheek three times, then the left three times. He spanked the center spot - that hurt a lot, but it also felt warm and tingly, as he spanked parts of her that had never felt human touch before their first night of sex. He spanked the backs of her legs - that was the worst. Then he returned to her right cheek. Sometimes he'd spank four times in succession - he didn't seem to keep count. Sometimes he'd skip a spot, only to hit it twice as hard the next time around. She kicked, because she couldn't hold still. She cried, because her heart was breaking. But she never asked him to stop. She deserved this. She needed it.

  He picked up the paddle then - a solid wood thing he'd only used once before. She clenched her teeth and accepted it. The paddle didn't move around as much as his hand, but concentrated mostly on her sit spot and her legs. Her bottom was burning. She'd never be able to sit on the bus! Maybe she'd just walk - if she could get a shopping cart to carry all her boxes, like some old bag lady. Well, she was homeless, too. Now. She didn't have a home with Kerrick anymore, and she didn't want to live anywhere else!

  Oh, ow! She bucked, kicking harder. It hurt so much! Couldn't he just be done! Oh!

  "I kept hoping you'd talk to me about this, Shannon. I'm sorry you had to wait until the last minute, but I'm glad you did finally chose to trust me. I never want you to tell me a lie again. Is that clear?"

  She sobbed, nodding her head, although she wasn't sure what she was agreeing to. She would probably never see him again! Especially if he were leaving Chicago.

  The paddling didn't last much longer. He landed five more solid whacks, then put the paddle down. He rubbed her back, saying soothing words, before helping her to stand. He kissed her forehead again, tenderly.

  "Now, let's load your things in the car. I want to get started before the evening rush hour traffic."

  "But, I don't want to see my father," she gasped between sobs.

  "I know, sweetheart. But I do. Trust me. It will be okay."

  In the end Shannon gave in, because she had no other place to go. He got all her boxes into the SUV, locked up the apartment, and got on the interstate, all without saying a word. She cried, and he passed her a tissue for her face. She shifted uncomfortably on the leather seats, and he handed her a pillow. She managed to sleep a little.

  They stopped at a motel just outside of the Dells. Kerrick booked only one room. Shannon felt a warm glow inside, that she would have at least one more night with him. But she had forgotten his promise - until she was once again over his knee for another lesson on lying. It wasn't as long or as thorough as the spanking she'd had earlier that day, and soon they were making love in quiet desperation. And later the next morning, just outside of her hometown, he had her lower her pants at the edge of a gravel road, and he gave her six solid strokes with the cane. They made love again, in the back of the SUV, and Shannon knew it would be the last time.

  Her father was not glad to see her. She thought he was going to slam the door in her face, but Kerrick spoke quietly, and with authority.

  "I've come to speak to you privately, sir," he said. Maybe it was the "sir", or maybe so
mething in the way he said it, but her father relented. She did not know what they talked about. Her mother ushered her into the kitchen, peppering her with questions - what had she been thinking! Dropping out of college like that! And running off - her reputation would be ruined! Actually, her mother hadn't asked her much of anything at all, and then when she did, she didn't wait long enough to hear an answer before she started scolding her again. Shannon cried, sorry she had caused her parents so much worry, and hurting everywhere - her bottom was almost as bruised as her heart.

  Her father seemed different when they emerged from the study. He looked older than Shannon remembered. He came straight to her and she flinched, even though he had never once hit her. He would yell, and demean, and send her to her room, and tell her she would burn if she did not repent her sins, but he had never spanked her. Not like Kerrick had.

  He took her chin and guided her to look at him. "Do you love this man?"

  It was so unlike her father, that she was confused. She didn't know how to answer him. He believed hand-holding was ungodly – she couldn't let him know that she and Kerrick had gone far beyond holding hands. She tried to glance at Kerrick, but her father's grip was firm.

  "It is a simple question, Shannon. For once in your life, give me an honest answer. Do you love him?"

  It would be humiliating to answer him in front of Kerrick. Yes, she loved him! With all her heart! She was never going to get over him. But he had places to go – she would not hold him back. She looked at her father with tears in her eyes. "Yes, Daddy. I love him."

  Her father nodded then, and something in him changed. He actually smiled. He turned back to Kerrick. "Then you have my blessings, son."

  Kerrick grinned.

  Her heart was breaking, and he had the gall to grin like that! She could just spit!

  Her mother looked confused. "Wayne? What are you talking about?"

  "Kerrick has just asked my permission to marry our daughter. He's exactly what she needs - a good, strong man. And he will be able to provide a good home for her, Martha."

  "But - she's too young! She's just a girl! And she hasn't even finished college!"

  "Martha, she's nearly twenty. And it is better to marry young than burn. Martha, our baby was lost, and now she has been returned to us!"

  "I am not marrying Kerrick," Shannon interrupted, furious with all of them. Kerrick most of all.

  "Yes, you are," her father commanded.

  "Why not, honey?" her mother wanted to know, when moments before she had been saying Shannon was too young. Mothers!

  "Why?" Kerrick demanded, his face darkening.

  "Because you never asked me, you big idiot! You should have asked me before you talked to my father!"

  Kerrick chuckled. Shannon's dad took her mom's arm and tactfully guided her out of the room. Shannon wasn't sure who she was angrier with! Her father, who wouldn't even let her hold hands in the fourth grade, and now left her without a chaperon in her own home! Or Kerrick - what of his art? What of his future, his plans - why was he going to marry her? Just to get her out of trouble with her parents? It made no sense. But then, the Kerrick she knew and loved wasn't known for clear, rational thinking. In a day or two he'd realize his mistake, and he'd still break her heart.

  Kerrick got down on one knee and took a small velvet box from his pocket. "Shannon Michaels, will you marry me?"

  "No! I won't! How dare you!" Oh, the ring was lovely! It was so pretty - she wanted to touch it. It was just what she would have picked out, if she'd been given the chance. It was a Celtic knot, with a simple diamond in the circle and a band of white gold.

  Kerrick's expression darkened. "Yet you love me. Or did you lie to your father?"

  "Oh, Kerrick, don't make this any harder than it has to be. Yes, I love you. I loved you before we ever made love. The past few weeks have been special! But you're an artist - you need your freedom - do you think I'd let my husband look at other naked women? If you marry me, it would end your career! I can't do that to you!"

  Kerrick stood slowly, stalking her. She backed up, and yet he drew closer, until he pinned her against the wall, with one arm on either side, so close yet not touching. "I have no intention of looking at another woman. I'll paint you, or I'll paint them fully dressed. I won't stop painting. But I also won't stop loving you."

  He kissed her then. Shannon turned away, blinking back tears. She wanted to say yes. She wanted him, wanted this. But it was all too fast! Too much, too soon. Maybe she wasn't ready for marriage? And what if he couldn't keep his word? What if painting nudes meant more to him than she did? She wasn't ready to take the chance.

  Kerrick's hand found her sore bottom and patted the stripes he'd given her that morning. "Do we have an understanding?"

  "No! We don't! And – and that's another thing! I could never marry a man who felt he could spank me any time he wanted. I'm too old for spankings!"

  "Never too old. We could ask your father about that."

  "All he ever talks about is me burning in hell."

  Kerrick guffawed. "Oh, baby. Have you got that wrong. He talked about burning, but a different kind. He didn't want you to burn with lust. He wanted to protect your virtue. Which I have taken. And marrying you is the honorable thing to do."

  "I don't care about my honor! What a horrible thing to say!"

  Kerrick kissed her again. "I love you, baby. You love me. And that's magic. Nothing else really matters. But I'm going to give you the space you need to realize that for yourself. Here's the three thousand dollars you earned. You can use it to plan your wedding, or to go back to college. The choice is yours. But if you don't marry me, it's two lives you'll be ruining, sweetheart."

  Then he backed away. Shannon's knees went weak and she felt lightheaded. Kerrick let himself out. Moments later she heard him drive away. Out of her life. Gone. She couldn't breathe.

  Her mother rushed in, wanting to know everything. Her father shook his head at her. Obviously, they'd heard at least part of the conversation. But no sermons followed. Life returned to a bizarre facsimile of before. She helped her mom feed the livestock. Her dad worked long hours. They ate dinner together - even if it was quite late. Shannon helped her mom around the house, finding too much time on her hands as she didn't have school work or friendships to fill her days. Most of her friends were in college, except for a few who had married and moved away.

  Kerrick didn't call. He didn't write. How she missed him! Missing him hurt with a physical pain, right between her ribs making just breathing miserable. Two weeks passed, and then three. But Shannon knew she'd been right. Kerrick was an artist. He needed his freedom to be able to paint the pictures he did. And she really couldn't marry a man who looked at naked women for a living. What would happen ten years from now – or twenty – if he still painted luscious young models while her own beauty started to fade?

  Then one day a delivery truck pulled up, blaring its horn. She had to sign for the package, but fear lodged in her throat. It was from Kerrick, and it was the size and shape of a painting. How could he! She couldn't open this in front of her parents - yet they would want to see it. This was it - the moment when her father would disown her, and she truly would have no place else to go.

  "Hurry, dear, let's see what it is," her mother urged.

  Shannon took a corner of paper wrapping and slowly pealed it away. Her father brought out a knife to cut through the packaging tape. The frame was thick and gold, with an ivory velvet band, which was unusual. She hadn't seen frames on many of his paintings, but the ones she had were rich and dark, complementing the dark golden tones in his work. The background was blue, not golden brown. This was not like anything else she'd ever seen him do. Then she saw her face. Yes, it was of her. But it was not something he had painted while she posed. He must have painted it from memory. Goodness knows, he'd looked at her often enough during those six wonderful weeks!

  Her parents were leaning over her shoulders. She wished they'd back up a bit. Her mother
caught the paper and pealed it lower, revealing her bare throat, her hair swept up off her neck. Shannon saw a bare shoulder, and heard her father's sharp intake of breath. But then, strange - she was wearing a dress! Kerrick hadn't painted her naked after all! She was wearing a long white wedding dress! And he had painted himself beside her. And it was beautiful! It was the most beautiful painting she had ever seen.

  Tears flowed down her face. He loved her, and he could still paint!

  "What's wrong, Shannon?" her dad insisted, concern worrying his features.

  "Oh, Wayne, don't worry," her mother broke in. "She's just happy. You leave her be."

  Shannon cried. Yes, she was happy. Sort of. Kerrick loved her, but she'd turned him down! She didn't even have a phone number to reach him. And he hadn't called to ask her again. She picked up the paper wrappings, desperate to find a return address. But there was none.

  "Shannon? Should we go buy that wedding dress now," her mother asked.

  "How can I? I don't even know where he is!"

  "He's in town. He calls every day to ask about you. But he didn't want to talk to you until you were ready. Shannon, that boy really does love you."

  She smiled through her tears. "He's not a boy, mom."

  "About that wedding dress?"

  ***

  It was a beautiful wedding. Shannon wore a dress very much like the one Kerrick had painted. He wore a white tuxedo. Jenny, Barb, and Diane were her bridesmaids, wearing crimson and silver gowns. They were married in her father's church in a big ceremony, with a reception and dance at the local country club following.

  It all happened so fast, Shannon felt a little dizzy. Kerrick's parents were nice people, if a little odd by her small-town Midwest standards, but she loved his dad already. George Peyton was older than her father by maybe a dozen years, but he wore his age well. His full beard was white, as were his bushy eyebrows. He was too thin to look like a Santa Claus, but his clear blue eyes sparkled as though he were thinking of some private joke.

  And her dress was perfect! It was feminine and fancy, with the spaghetti straps she'd always wanted, but with a little shawl she could wear over her shoulders for the church ceremony. Her mom gave her a pearl necklace that had belonged to her grandmother, and her father gave her a slim white Bride's Bible for her "something new". She borrowed a petticoat from Diane, who was engaged to be married in the spring, while Jenny and Barb went together to buy her a blue negligee for her wedding night. She hadn't seen it yet, but judging by how red Jenny and Barb got every time they mentioned it, she figured they must have shopped at Frederick's.