Under The Scarlet Moon

Chapter Five(1)

My schedule was filled with appointments, a long list of meetings, and at least three hours blocked into

work on blueprints for a tiny industrial complex that was taking up half of the firm’s resources. I buried

my head in my drawings, coming up for air only to sit back and stare at my work from a different angle

—and to take a bite of my tuna sandwich. A few times, I caught myself staring out the window at the

grand hotel across the street. Sometimes I looked inside the rooms behind the glass and timber,

wonderingly. If only I could peer inside their private spaces and see what went on inside. Every room

was a little world, another drama. Was that what KC thought about so much?

As soon as I realized what I was doing, I immediately stopped. Thankfully, these indulgent reveries

were becoming less frequent—especially since I was expending so much energy on cutting them out of

my mind. KC Gable was just a passing fancy, nothing more. Three weeks, it had been a good rush.

And I’d even turned the corner on my malaise, as he had called it; feeling freshly inspired to do the

work that Ripley & Wingardt had hired me to do. This was one of my more lucid moments.

Hearing a sudden knock on the door, I absently said, “Come in,” thinking it was my secretary with more

specs from my boss. I swiveled on my drafting stool doing an immediate double take seeing KC Gable

standing in the center of my office. He looked as reasonable there as Banquo’s ghost. I even pressed

my fingers to my mouth as if to squelch a cry.

“Did you get my note?” he asked.

“Yes, yes I did,” I said. My voice must have sounded much too haughty considering his reply.

“So, when did you start with the rich-bitch airs?” he sneered and responded tersely.

“I didn’t know that I had,” I answered.

“Listen to yourself, Gail.”

Any wall I’d erected to keep him out was no more than paper-thin. He was rattling around inside me

already.

“So you got my note. What happened next?”

“I decided not to see you.”

“And why’s that?”

I shrugged having no immediate answer.

“If that’s your decision, why didn’t you call and say so? I think we’ve gone too far for this shabby kind of

ending.” Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“I’m sorry. It was just easier,” I paused, seeing his penetrating stare unchanged, “and now you’re

pissed, aren’t you?” I could read his anger as well.

“In a manner of speaking.” He moved further forward until he was standing right in front of me.

Nervously, I blew a lock of red hair off my face and when it didn’t stay, KC took his hand and gently

pushed it back. “I want the truth, Gail.” He almost looked worried about my answer. “Are you serious

about what you wanted, or was that just my imagination? Has this three weeks and our talk in the

theatre been about nothing?”

“No, it wasn’t your imagination…” I admitted. “It’s not about nothing—it’s very real.” Yes, he was inside

me and more pervasive than ever.

“Then let’s clear up the problem, now. No hesitations.”

I was mesmerized, in an unthinking place.

“You want the spankings?” he asked me.

I cleared my throat. “Yes.”

“You want the discipline?”

“Yes,” I replied. With every question, my body was moving full speed ahead, racing far faster than my

brain’s ability to keep up. But it didn’t matter; any thoughtful consideration of his questions was

unnecessary. I would have answered the same way.

“And all the denial is just bullshit? Is that right?”

“Yes. I guess it is.”

He knew the answers. I didn’t have to speak. KC read from my brain, finding pages I’d marked ‘secret ’,

exposing the truth. I suppose that’s easy with a woman as confused as I have been.

“If that’s so, Gail, then you need to decide now if you want me part of the picture?”

I couldn’t answer.

“We’ve been seeing each other for three weeks. If all I am is an amusing sideshow, tell me now. I won’t

try again. I won’t rescue you from bars, or peer into your soul, or bother you when you come to my

theatre. I don’t like being rejected, especially by women who ask for favors. There are plenty of places

in my life where I can play the fool. I certainly don’t need another one.”

“KC, no. It’s not a game, not a game at all. I was just afraid. After Friday night, I was petrified. It took so

much courage for me to see you the next morning, and when you weren’t there, I… I couldn’t do it

again.”

He had his warm hands on my knees sending a flood of sexual intensity through my body. Every bit of

me was quaking. All that I’d denied the last three days came pouring into my head and between my

thighs. Even my bottom started to tingle.

“So, you so want more?”

“In the worst way I want more.”

“From me?”

“Yes, from you.”

He stared around, I think for the first time noting the surroundings—my ultra modern office with its crisp

lines and cold form. Banks of windows surrounded me on three sides. He humphed amusedly.

“A liquid prisoner, pent in walls of glass…” he mused.

“What’s that?”

“Shakespeare. Fits, don’t you think. Or perhaps you’re more like fire under glass.”

“Pent?”

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Maybe so.”

He laughed again, to ease the tension that seemed to be splitting the air. “I suppose I look as out of

place here as you do in my theatre.”

I breathed a little easier. “So what? Might shake a few people up to see you here, or you just might get

called the new mail clerk, but I don’t care.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am.” I wasn’t even trembling, not my legs or hands. Though, my head was pounding and my crotch

was frantic with lust. But I did want this man.

“Good. Then tomorrow morning we’ll talk this out. I’ll see you at the theatre ten o’clock.”

“I’ll be there.”

“And since you’ve pressed the point, I suppose here is as good a place as any to start your discipline.”

He turned again as though he were looking for something. Having spotted what he wanted, he moved

to my desk and swiftly confiscated my thick wooden ruler.

A shock wave of desire swept my system as though he’d just hit me with an electric cattle prod. “Here?

Now?”

“You know of any better time? This is one you’ve earned.”

No. Of course not, I said to myself silently, while my mouth managed a hesitant, “No.”

I stood. Everything in my was body quaking now, toes to knees to crotch to shivering shoulders.

Spanked in anger has its own thrill; though it’s often gone too quickly to appreciate the feelings.

Spanked for discipline was something else. Time makes the erotic feelings emerge and mine were

soaring now.

KC sat in a straight-backed side chair while I zoomed to my intercom to inform my secretary that I didn’t

want to be disturbed. I suggested that she go to lunch and she agreed. Then turning toward KC, I

offered him a quavering smile.

“You think this room is soundproof?” he asked, as he motioned me to his side.

“I’m not sure how much.”

“Then we’ll wait until your secretary leaves.”

I felt only slightly better with that decision; but all my fears seemed swept away once I went over KC’s

lap. He held me tightly to him as I recalled from the first spanking in the theatre. I felt his powerful

warmth from the moment my thighs and groin touched his lap. My sexual juices started to flow so much

I could hardly keep from squirming against him.

As he raised my skirt—and this time it was one of my shortest ones, Dickerson’s doing again—I felt the

air on my skin, the immediate cool, and every small move of KC’s hand as he inched the tight fabric

over my hips. Finding my panties in the way, he slowly drew them over my ass and let them dangle at

my knees. Bared at last, my butt twitching, I waited, not daring to breathe. I remembered his hands.

Every time I saw them they fascinated my imagination—even minutes ago when he gripped the ruler as

he looked at my stunned expression. I could imagine the picture of us now—me draped over his thighs,

KC picking up the ruler gently laying it on my ass…

I wasn’t wrong in my fantasy. He was as tender with the wood as he might have been with his bare

hand—running it over the surface of my skin gently until he finally drew it back and let it fall with the

swift flick of his wrist.

Smack!

The burn was instantaneous!

I sucked in air and refused to cry. No telling who might be outside the office. I could only hope for

privacy, but it wasn’t guaranteed. The next strike landed with as much force as the first, and the

stinging burn began to effect my body. He struck repeatedly, bringing the ruler down fast. He changed

his pace and direction, and even the intensity so I couldn’t guess what he’d do next. For a time, his aim

drifted to my thighs where the sting was so great I almost lost my cool and started to complain. Sensing

my distress, KC held me tighter as my body started to rebel, my feet began to kick in maddening fury.

“Hush!” He almost whispered the command, though it was an unbending one. He bore down harder

now, his strikes repeated swiftly directly on the center of my ass, until I did cry out. I immediately

swallowed my tiny wail. Then, seconds later, KC stopped.

As my labored breathing subsided, the erotic heat in me began to build. With KC’s hand on my hot ass,

I couldn’t stop the raging torrent. I squirmed to meet his sincere caress, quite sure that my body was

taunting him to the same state of erotic need; but to my distress again, there was no sexual climax to

this spanking.

Having raised my arousal to a torrid pitch, he abruptly pushed me off his lap and had me stand. “Turn

around,” he said when I was on my feet. My ass to his face, he inspected the damage, his hand merely

grazing the skin.

I wanted to beg for his touch but I wouldn’t dare.

“So. Tomorrow, you’ll be at the theatre at ten,” he reminded me. The order was coldly stated, and he

started toward the door.

“That’s all?” I asked with a pitiful whine as I turned back to him. He knew what I wanted and knew what

it meant denying me.

“Yes. That’s all today. I have work to do, and so do you. Pay attention to your butt, Ms. Henry. Might

just teach you all sorts of things this afternoon.”

KC left me standing in the center of my office, bewildered once again. I was so in need of him, hating

him for not screwing me on the spot that I almost failed to lower my skirt as he opened the door.

Thankfully, I shook myself awake and quickly restored some decency.

***

In the morning, my journey to the theatre was much easier than any I’d made before. There seemed to

be a certainty about our relationship that I now trusted. His thorough probing of my thoughts in my

office had set me straight at last. Then his hands had done the rest of the work with both gentleness

and the coarse severity required to discipline. I was no longer allowing myself the luxury of confusion.

My mind was clear.

Going to the theater in compliance to his order, every desire for this uncommon lust engaged brutally in

my loins—nothing held back now. I opened the door and the door gave way, and the blackness poured

on me again. The place seemed to swallow me whole. I felt released.

KC met me inside the black box, and with a firm but comforting hand, led me to his apartment. I noted

first that his bed was mussed with the look of erotic disorder as though he’d spent the night with a

woman inside the messy sheets. Since KC took the lone chair for himself, his bed was the only place I

could sit.

“Still scared?” he asked. He seemed much more pleasant than when he came to my office.

“Yes. Scared to death, but I am here.”

He smiled warmly. “Good,” he replied as though I’d passed some exam.

I don’t know how things changed from there. We were awkwardly drinking coffee one minute talking

about a lot of nonsense neither us was really listening to—I think we were communicating with bodies

and the backs of our minds where a more honest conversation was taking place—and then suddenly,

we were on the bed, stripping clothes away and becoming close, closer than we’d been. We kissed.

We weren’t just ass to groin or ass to hand, but face to face and cock to crotch. My wanting was

immeasurable, a seeking sort of desire that poured out on him. I was so ravenous I should have been

self-conscious, but I don’t think men worry about a woman’s passion in the middle of sex. KC certainly

had no problem with my unrestrained behavior.

Regardless of my own eagerness, KC was definitely in charge, exactly as I wanted him to be. He

kissed me first before I kissed back. He struggled with my clothes before I searched to find his skin. He

clutched my mound before I laid a finger on his cock. When I did find that hefty meat, my curiosity

drove me down to explore it with my mouth and inspect it with my tongue. I drank its richness, tasted it

potent salty, sweaty state, while my nostrils breathed the essence of KC inside my lungs.

Maneuvering my bottom end with his hands, he had me straddle his face while I worked his prick with

my mouth. He teased my snatch with his tongue poking me so I was shrieking and everything in me

spasmed. Still, he did nothing but play his heartlessly sweet game of cat and mouse with my anxious

pussy. As his stalk grew proud and the head became engorged with blood, my insides seemed to cry

aloud. Still, he kept me titillated feeling as though I’d die without that cock’s first strike.

When he finally pushed me around and we were mouth to mouth again, we locked so tightly in our

embrace that I could hardly move. But I felt him firm between my thighs. He lay on top thrusting as my

head fell back and my breasts arched to meet his lips, and I came, shuddering slowly. His ejaculation

followed closely afterwards. Yes, this was like coming home, like finding who I am again.

KC’s apartment has the most amazing ceiling filled with a dozen theatre lights in the unusually high

rafters. By daylight, there’s not much to see, not as lovers after sex lying side by side in a sunny room.

“What’s it like here at night?” I asked, fixated on the possibilities those lights suggested.

“You’ll see for yourself soon enough,” he answered

“Oh, that must mean I’m coming back,” I said happily.

“I thought we had that figured out,” he snapped at my remark as though he was annoyed I’d even

asked.

I pulled up on one elbow so I could look at his face. “KC this is all really weird. I don’t do things like this

and I’m not used to any man, let alone someone like you.”

“I didn’t start it, Gail,” he reminded me. I fell back against the sheets. Suddenly KC was on top of me,

taking my hands in his and pinning them above my head. My crotch went off again, wanting him. As he

bent down to kiss me, I don’t remember, ever, knowing such tenderness. I was breathing hard, feeling

as though he’d sucked me into him, looking him in the eye and being scared.

“Tell me, Gail, who started this with you?” he asked.

“Who?”

“Who was the first man who spanked you?”

The question gave me instant shivers, tremors I’m sure he could feel with his groin locked tightly on

mine. “That was a long time ago.”

“Tell me about him,” he insisted.

“I’d rather not say.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s in my past.”

“As though the past doesn’t live inside you?”

I felt as though I was on the edge of a razor ready to slip. “Why’s it so important?” I wondered as my

fear increased and my breathing grew more labored.

“Because I asked.”

Because he asked, I repeated to myself. After such nurturing, loving tenderness, he was tugging at me;

pulling, tearing, wrenching me away with him back in time.

“You want to walk out on my questions?” he asked.

“No, I don’t want to walk out.”

“Then answer me,” he smiled rather charmingly, like a handsome pirate, “Besides, you’re in no position

to bargain.” I should have figured that, flat on my back, his body bearing down on me, weight, strength,

animal intent overpowering me. Finally, knowing he had me conquered, he rolled away. And moving off

the bed, he took a chair beside me, saying with the same enchanting smirk, “Talk, Gail. Just spit it out.”

“I don’t know what to say.” I tried. I really tried, but the words forming inside my mouth seemed stuck,

destined to remain garbled and crowded behind a locked door.

Seeing me hesitate KC talked instead, “I thought we had this handled. That we had decided what you

want. I give orders, you obey,” he made his case calmly and I knew I’d already lost. “You want to argue

with that, we’ll try the belt—it’s wide and leather and very effective. Or maybe a cane would get you

talking?”

“No, please,” I finally pulled up, resting my back against the headboard, while I pouted like a naughty

kid. “You know I’ll never get to work this way.”

“Oh? Is that important?” he shrugged.

“Well, not really,” I confessed. “I took the morning off, just for you.”

“See? I’m only giving you want you want.”