Page 67 of Reclaimed

“Arms by your sides. Don’t move. Understand?”

I nodded, but Ray wasn’t having any of it.

“You’re not allowed to go silent on me today, little one. You and I are about to have a conversation. I’ll ask you again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good.”

I was terrified, but I had no choice but to let the tears run down my face and wait for whatever was coming next. Ray began walking slowly around the table. My pulse quickened when he went out of sight.

“You’re going to get eighteen strikes of the cane today. You won’t know when they’re coming. It doesn’t matter if you scream. Are you going to accept your punishment?”

“Yes, Master.”

It was quick – too quick for me to prepare mentally or physically. I barely heard the cane move through the air before I felt the contact and the burning sensation spreading through the flesh of my behind. I cried out and my hands curled reflexively into fists. I screwed my eyes shut. The tip of the cane was already running along the bare skin of my leg. Steadying my breathing took all my concentration.

“What are you being punished for, Callie?”

“For leaving you.”

“And?”

“And for being with someone else.”

The second strike landed.

“Why did you choose to be with him instead of me?” It was already enough of a mental challenge to endure the pain without begging him to stop; now he wanted me to also keep it together enough to answer his questions in between strikes?

“I was ashamed of the way we were living,” I whispered. “I thought I had to be… Everyone said I needed something more… more sensible.”

This time I got two strikes in quick succession. I could feel the exact location of each one still burning on my skin.

“What attracted you to him?” This was dangerous territory. Surely, he didn’t want me to answer that? I’d been prepared for physical pain; I hadn’t known he’d be testing me psychologically too. I remembered his promise to me at the start: “you will see me get angry, but you won’t see me lose control”. Anything I said would definitely make him angry, but so far, he had stayed in control – the strikes were well aimed, all the same intensity… I’d wanted the punishment to happen so he could get rid of his anger – if I didn’t tell the truth, if I didn’t trigger the deepest parts of his rage, then that anger wasn’t going anywhere.

“I found him interesting. I… felt grateful that he helped me get into uni. He made me feel excited about normal things. I thought… he’d be able to take care of me.”

“Better than I could?”

“Yes.”

Another strike. Instantly, my whole body tensed up. The pain of each strike was building on those that had come before – and I was only on the fifth.

“And did he?”

How was I going to make it to eighteen? I forced my muscles to soften in preparation for the next hit.

“Don’t keep me waiting or you’ll earn yourself an extra strike.”

“No,” I stammered. “He… Sometimes…” I hadn’t expected a strike mid-sentence and cried out in shock. It was working; Ray was angry. “He showed me I could be more independent. But… he also made me feel more ashamed of who I was.”

“Did you love him?”

I’d promised Ray the truth. “Yes.”

Seventh strike.

“Do you still love him?”

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