Page 115 of The Secrets That Kill

“Ass up, pretty Pollyanna.”

A part of me thinks I should just cut and run. This is going to be bad. I can feel it. Because that anger isn’t sex related, it’s real. He’s furious, utterly and painfully furious at something,and I don’t know what. Except…I have a feeling it might be at himself.

But even though panic nips at my insides, I do as he asks. When he rubs a soothing, gentle hand over my ass before flipping the baby doll dress up and peeling down the lace panties, I think maybe it’ll be okay.

“Fucking dripping. Look at you. I don’t think it’s me who gets you hot. I think it’s being bad. Disobeying.”

“No! That’s not true, Sir.” And just like that the switch in me is flipped to “on.”

“Did you blow him?”

I still. “Who?”

“You know who.”

“He…yes. He didn’t like it. Said I was useless.”

The belt comes down. Once. Twice. Three times. I cry out.

“So you did it again?”

“He wanted it.”

“And Pollyanna’s such a fucking slut she’ll do whatever anyone asks.” He spanks me again and again and it hurts.

Oh, God, it fucking hurts. Heat and pain radiate through me like I’ve stuck my hands into open flames. My eyes blur with tears.

“Did you say no?”

“Yes, I tried. I hated it. Hated him. He was so nice to me, and I was so stupid for trusting him and listening to him!”

The belt comes down again and again.

“Did he make you come?” His voice shakes with fury.

In my head, I don’t know if I told him, but something breaks open. “Yes! Damn you, Master! He made me come. It felt dirty because I liked it, and then he said I was good. No one ever told me I was good, and you weren’t here. And I…I?—”

The belt comes down again and I moan this time, choking on a sob.

Again and again the blows fall until I droop. I need this, I want this. I want something other than those horrible memories.

“Please, please. I know I’m bad?—”

“No, Pollyanna. No. He touched you when he shouldn’t have, and no one protected you. No one. Fuck!”

He dumps the belt and pulls me up in his arms. His mouth attacks mine, kissing me like I always wanted to be kissed by him, with the fervor of something like love, with passion, and I kiss him back.

I’m kissing him and crying and suddenly he pulls his lips from mine. Then he holds me. He just holds me.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m a fucking bastard, I know that, but I needed you to admit how it really was. You pretended it was okay for so long, Ivy. But you don’t need to anymore.”

My head spins slowly.

“You weren’t stupid. Just a kid.” He wipes my eyes and kisses the corner of my mouth, and there’s a clean space inside me, it hurts, but it’s clean, letting light in.

“Now, Ivy,” he says, “I don’t think we’re anywhere near done. I need to punish you. Back down.”

My lip trembles, the switch is on again. “But, Master, my ass hurts.”

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