Liberated Heart (Windy City)

by Measha Stone

  "I'm not really in the mood for our meeting anymore either. And not because of Kelly. My girl isn't exactly pleasing me at the moment." Bradley’s phone danced in his drawer, and he fought the temptation to look at the message. "Before you head out, have you found anything out about those letters?"

  "No. They were clear of prints, and without the card from the flowers, there's no telling where the order originated from. Hell, he could have picked them up on his way to her office and paid with cash. Has she gotten any other letters?"

  "Not that she's told me, but I'm not sure I believe her right now. I'll find out this evening while we have a chat."

  Kelly snorted from her position, her arms behind her back. Bradley couldn't help but smile over her rebellious streak. Kendrick had his hands full with her.

  "Let me know if she has. I'll be taking Kelly home. She's never been punished in public before. Besides, by the look on your face, I'd say it's better she not be here when Erin shows up."

  "That might be best." Bradley nodded in agreement. The last thing he needed was Kelly throwing herself in front of Erin to protect her.

  Once Kendrick had collected his errant sub and left him alone, Bradley pulled out his phone to see her message. If it contained anything other than what he expected, he would add more punishment to her already declining evening.

  I'm sorry. On my way, Sir.

  Smart girl.

  Heading out to the front entrance, he began to play through the next hour of the evening in his mind. His girl would never think to disobey him again after she got what was coming to her. Kelly may have been trying to insult him by calling him cruel, but she had no idea how cruel he could be when it came to Erin's discipline. The woman wanted to be submissive, and her punishment would test her ability to accept responsibility for her actions and his authority over her mind and body.

  Dressed in his cargo pants and black tank top, Bradley waited until the front desk informed him of Erin's arrival and told him she was waiting for him in the private room he requested for the night. He imagined her pacing the room, unsure of what to do. He hadn't given any instructions for her to follow, only to remain in the room until he came for her.

  He played with the idea of taking her home, but then he imagined her sitting at a restaurant with that ex of hers sitting across from her and decided he didn't want to give her the luxury of being comfortable at home.

  As he made his way through the lounge, Claudia bumped into him.

  "Oh! Sorry, Bradley." Her smile suggested otherwise while her hand rested on his bicep and her eyelids fluttered ever so slightly. "I should have known you were here. Your girl is here. I just saw her walking toward the privates. She looked a little off kilter. I hope she's okay. She looked like a little lamb being taken to market."

  Bradley looked past her toward the rooms, one of which Erin was in.

  "She's fine." He forced a civil smile and casually moved his arm to shake off her hand.

  "Well, I hope so. You know how those newbies are sometimes. Things can get too serious too quick. Maybe the fantasy should have stayed fantasy?" She tilted her head to the right, a slight flicker in her eyes.

  "She's a little nervous." With good reason.

  He wasn't going to be giving her a little paddling and calling it a night. No, a serious session was heading her way. He had warned Erin how strict he would be with her, and how harsh his punishments would become if she didn't learn from previous punishments. Hiding her decision to sell her house and going out to dinner with that ex of hers were serious transgressions—and not her first.

  "If you say so. Some vanillas just aren't cut out for this, Bradley. They read a few kinky novels, like the idea of a good ol' paddling, and they jump into our little world here, when really they don't belong. I'd hate to see you wasting your time." When she brushed her hand along his arm again, he took a step back. It didn't feel right having another woman touching him, even in an innocent way such as that.

  "Claudia. There you are." Alyssa interrupted them before Bradley could correct her misconceptions. Claudia turned her head slightly with narrowed eyes.

  "What is it?" Bradley heard the snap of her tone, and crossed his arms over his chest, ready to intervene if needed.

  He should have known better. Alyssa wouldn't fall prey to a woman such as Claudia. "Travis is looking for you. He's at the front desk." Alyssa widened her grin. "It looks like he's changed his mind and decided he would come back—at least this once. Anyway, he doesn’t have a membership anymore, so I told him I'd find you, see if you would sign him in."

  Claudia cursed. Her heeled foot stomped on the floor, and she huffed. "Dammit. What is he doing here tonight?" She let out another long breath. "Fine. What an idiot. I'll sign him in." She stilled her tongue when she caught Bradley watching her intently as he was.

  He'd seen her brat side and her seductive side; this current side was a new one for him. He didn't care for it at all.

  "You were saying?" he prompted, leaning forward enough to let her know he was paying close attention to her words.

  She screwed her face up into what could be thought of as a smile and shook her head. "Nothing of importance, Sir." She thanked Alyssa again and stalked off through the lounge toward the open dungeon floor.

  "She's playing with Travis now?" Bradley watched Claudia sashay through the lounge toward the front desk.

  Alyssa raised her eyebrows. "I know, seems weird. I mean, I know he's got money, but he's married, and she's not the second fiddle type."

  "Do me a favor and keep Travis away from anything valuable. We don't want him stuffing his pockets with anything while he's here. I should have him thrown out."

  "I'll keep an eye out," she promised solemnly. "Uh…did I see Erin duck into one of the private rooms a little while ago?"

  At the mention of Erin's name, Bradley's smile dropped. He hadn't forgotten what he’d been heading to do, but he wasn't looking forward to it either. And if Alyssa was going to tell him to be easy with her, he wasn't sure he would be able to withstand holding his temper back.

  "Yes. That was her."

  "Well, she looked…I know the look." She waved a hand in the air. "Like she was about to puke."

  "Alyssa, I'm really not in the mood."

  "Yes, I can see that." Her eyes grazed his body, starting at his booted feet and moving up to his hairless head. "You look very…well, you right now, which means she's probably in for some serious trouble."

  "You don't want to talk me out of it?"

  "Would that work?"

  "Probably not," he admitted. There really was no probably. Erin would get what was coming her way.

  "Then nope. Besides, as terrified as she looked, she looked equally guilty. She needs you to help her with the guilt as much as anything else." Alyssa nodded toward Brandon. "Busy night." In the blink of an eye, she was gone, headed toward the bar where Brandon and another member were in a heated discussion. Probably over a tab.

  After quickly looking around to see if anyone else wanted to interrupt him before he got to his wayward girl, he headed to the private room. She probably had gone through a million scenarios in her mind over what he had planned, and she probably figured she'd be getting a spanking.

  As he approached the closed door, he took a moment to take a deep breath and check his anger. There was no way of fully alleviating his irritation, but he wanted to make sure no part of him was acting out of an emotional state. He needed a clear head to deal with her.

  When he opened the door, he wasn't exactly sure what he was going to find, but he had not expected to find Erin lying on the floor in her apology position fully clothed.

  He saw her eyes move, and her head twist a bit to see him, but he didn't let his gaze meet hers. Instead, he shut the door firmly and twisted the knob that would change the sign to read “occupied.”

  "Get up." He turned around and leaned back against the door, one boot flat on the wood surface, while the other remained planted on the ground. "Get
up," he said again when she hesitated. "You don't get to apologize yet. You haven't earned the right to apologize." He folded his arms over his chest and watched her with a steel gaze.

  She slid up to her knees, placing her hands on her thighs. Short brown curls framed her face, giving her an innocent look, but she was anything but innocent. Her tan blouse had wrinkled, and her pleated skirt inched up her thighs while she began to bunch the material into her fist.

  "I'm not sure—"

  "You don't get to talk either," he snapped before she could finish her thought. Her mouth clamped shut, and she swallowed hard. "You'll only answer when I ask a question. If you speak out of turn, I'll gag you. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Sir." She looked up at him, trying to connect their gazes, but he wouldn't give her that. Not yet. First, he needed answers.

  "When did you decide to sell the house?"

  "It's the best—" He was at her side in one large stride, his hands in her hair, twisting it around his fist and wrenching her head back until her face tilted up and met his glare.

  "I didn't ask you why you decided to sell the fucking house. I asked you when." He gave her head a little shake, ignoring her wince of pain. "Answer."

  "A few days ago." Her voice was raspy. A tear slid from the side of her eye, and he caught it with a single fingertip. He wiped it across her lips, then released her hair, walking back to his spot at the door.

  She swiped her hand over her lips and took a few breaths to calm herself.

  "When did you make plans with Jonathan to go to dinner?"

  "I didn't. Okay?" She closed her eyes when he started to step toward her again. "After I let him know I wanted to sell," she answered quickly.

  "Did you call him?"

  "No, Sir."

  "Did he call you?"

  "No, Sir."

  "Tell me all of it. Quickly." He stood with his feet apart, hovering over her with his arms crossed. He imagined he looked quite the sight. Some had told him how terrifying he could appear when in full discipline mode, but he didn't know of any other way. This was him—the true him.

  "I decided to sell the house because I don't need it. It's too far away from work and you." She glanced up at him, but when she received no reaction, she continued. "I texted Jonathan telling him I was having a realtor do the assessment. Once I had the papers drawn up for the listing, I texted him that I needed his signature and asked if he wanted to stop at my office to sign. I said I'd leave them at the front desk, and he could sign and leave. He insisted on meeting. In case he had questions or something like that." She spoke so fast, he had to focus on every word to keep up with her.

  "This took a few days then. You had to call a realtor, you communicated with Jonathan, but not once during all of this did you say a fucking word to me."

  "No, Sir, I didn't."

  "Go on with the rest." His lips tingled from keeping them pressed together so tightly.

  "I agreed to meet him at a deli not far from here."

  "Were you allowed to meet with him without me knowing?"

  She looked up at him, then turned away. "No, Sir."

  "Are you allowed to hide things like this from me?"

  "No, Sir." She sniffled as she looked away from him.

  Alyssa had been right about the guilt; he could see it weighing on her.

  "Instead of telling me the truth, you lied to me and said you were going out with Kelly for dinner." When she said nothing, he bent at his waist to get closer to her, but didn't touch her. "Do I have that right?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Because you knew if you told me, I'd tell you I was going with or you weren't going at all." He let her gaze meet his finally, and he was a little surprised to see a trace of defiance sparkling in her brown eyes.

  "Yes, Sir. You would have insisted on coming with me, and I didn't want that. I wanted to handle him on my own."

  Bradley could understand that. With all the arguing with her friends over her state of fragility, he should have known she might want to take her ex on by herself.

  "And instead of telling me that, in a respectful way, and not all this fucking defiance you're showing me right now, you decided to take it all upon yourself to fucking decide what to do. Do I still have it right?"

  She didn't answer right away. She mulled it over. A soft blush crept over her face. "I didn't think."

  "That pretty much says it right there, girl. You didn't think." He tapped two fingers to her temple. "Because if you had come to me and told me you wanted to handle him on your own, that you wanted to be able to do that for yourself, I would have fucking said okay. I may have waited outside the restaurant to hold you when you were done, or in case you decided you needed me, but I would have let you do that. You are not some helpless bird. You have two strong feet to stand on, I wouldn't get in the way of that. But you didn't give me the fucking choice. You made that decision for yourself—and me. You didn't submit to my authority, or my rules. You did what you wanted and said fuck you to me."

  His voice hadn't risen at all, but her tears built up as though it had. "No, that's not true. I didn't think that."

  "As my submissive, who makes the rules, me or you?" He held her chin between two fingers.

  "You do."

  "As my submissive, who follows the fucking rules?"

  "I do."

  "And what happens to my little sub when she disobeys and lies?"

  "I get punished," she whispered.

  "That's right." Letting her go, he stood to his full height and looked around the room. There were two cabinets in the room containing implements. One was his personal cabinet that he kept at the club for when he wanted some fun. Lugging everything back and forth between the house and the club didn't make much sense when he owned the place. The second cabinet was for public use.

  Each piece of equipment and toy was cleaned thoroughly after the private rooms were used. A member could use the room free of charge, but to get the key to the toy chest, they needed to pay a cleaning fee.

  Aside from the cabinets, two pieces of equipment had been brought into the room at his request: the spanking bench and the St. Andrew’s Cross. Erin would leave the club feeling the heat of his flogger both front and back.

  "But you didn't tell a little lie or break just any rule. Understand this punishment is going to be severe, Erin."

  Her chin thrust outward, and her eyes followed his gaze toward the cabinets. Out the corner of his eye, he saw her fingers start to twitch and her throat work as she swallowed again. Her chest had begun to rise and fall at a quicker pace. The next half hour would be trying for her, but she wouldn't be alone; he would be with her every step of the way.

  Chapter 23

  Erin's heart pounded in her ears. Sweat began to mass produce all over her body as she watched him walk toward the closed cabinets.

  Had Bradley informed everyone what he was going to do to her that evening? Had he told everyone how she’d lied and betrayed his trust?

  A short while after his text came a few more from Kelly apologizing for letting the cat out of the bag and reprimanding her for not letting her know the cat was inside the damn bag to begin with.

  "Remove your clothes." Bradley's direction swept over the room, the silky-smooth deep tone of his voice reminding her how hard she had fallen for him. Without hesitation, she slipped out of her shirt and pants, folding everything and stacking her clothing in a pile near the door of the room.

  When she turned around to face him, his eyes bore into her. His eyes. A connection he would demand from her, and one she would be hard pressed to hold. She had made him angry, but much more than that, she had disappointed him.

  In his right hand, he held a long wooden paddle. During their play times together, she'd learned how much she hated wooden implements. At first, she had thought they would be thuddy, but quickly learned how untrue that was. The sting of his paddles bit into her skin more than his belt. Maybe it was the way he used it, or the way she felt it; either way, she disl
iked the wooden paddle, and he knew it.

  "Tell me why we're here." His sharp words cut through the room.

  A chill ran over her bare skin.

  "I went to see Jonathan without telling you, and I didn't correct you when you assumed I was going out with Kelly. And I didn't tell you about my decision to sell my house." She clenched her hands at her sides. Maybe he had a different concern other than what she did or didn’t tell him. "I'm not moving in with you. I mean, that wasn't my plan. I wouldn't do that without talking with you. The house will take a while to sell. I'm going to start looking for a place of my own." She hadn't thought his face could grow darker, but before her eyes, a shadow crossed over his features. A storm brewed in his eyes, and his lips were actually turning white from the pressure he'd put on them. Had she misread his irritation?

  He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, as though needing a moment to collect himself. She tried to hold steady, but damn if she didn't want to throw open the door to the room and sprint home. Naked or not.

  "You decided to get your own place? And you didn't tell me? Didn't even open that up for discussion?" The low calm of his voice unsettled her even more than the heated glare he shot at her. "I'm not sure which transgression to address first!" He waved the paddle in the air in an exasperated gesture. "No. I do. Bend over the bench. We'll address the lying. Where you'll be living, we can discuss tomorrow. When we both have had time process this evening. Because I wasn't bullshitting you, pet. This is going to be a severe punishment. Use your safeword if you need a break, but there will be no escaping what you have coming. I will stop if you use your safeword, but it only pauses the punishment. Do you understand?"

  He was still calling her pet, at least that was something.

  "Yes, Sir," she strangled out, her vocal cords nearly paralyzed.

  He pointed to the bench with the paddle, and she took one shaky step after another until she had reached it. She wasn't new to the apparatus; he'd fucked her over one only a few days ago when she met him for dinner after work. Having a boyfriend who owned a dungeon came in handy for an evening tryst.