down a thousand times. Suppose we say the eight guns correspond to eight different parts of your body? Here ..."
She felt the whip caress her inner right arm and she jumped at the touch.
"Here ..."
Then her left arm, moving from shoulder to elbow. She jumped again.
"Here and here ..."
Her inner thighs.
"Here, of course."
Her butt.
"And here ..."
Belly .
"And finally here ..."
Moving slowly, almost torturously over her breasts.
"... and here."
The whip brushed her pubic hair.
My God, could he really be considering using a whip there ?
No way. This was crazy.
"Arthur ..."
"Let me finish. Here's the game. I touch you someplace like I did just now. Then I name one of the guns. You tell me the caliber of the gun. If you get it right, I don't use the whip there. Not at all. You get it partially right, I use it, but only lightly. You get it wrong, a little harder."
"Uh-uh, Arthur. No. Not possible."
"You can't refuse, Liddy ."
"Arthur, it isn't funny."
" Liddy , you can't refuse."
"The hell I can't. Want to hear me scream?"
He laughed. "If you do that, you know what's gonna happen? You'll wake up Robert. Now how are you going to explain all this to Robert? You could have a problem there, right?"
"Arthur, you son of a bitch."
She was furious. How dare he?
And how did I let myself get into this?
"If you do this, Arthur, if you go through with this, I swear we're finished," she said. "I'm telling you. I'll divorce you. I'm not kidding."
"Lydia, it's a game . Just a game. Stop taking it all so seriously . Look, I know what's bothering you. We'll start with what you're obviously so damn worried about. Here ..."
He let the whip move down over her pubic hair again. She flinched.
"Magnum," he said.
"What?"
"Magnum."
He brushed her again.
".357."
"There," he said. "See? There you go! You're playing. And you win, right? I don't do a thing."
Great, she thought.
I don't know your goddamned guns. I don't know half of them.
She felt the whip drift over the soft inner flesh of her right thigh. "Walther PPK."
She got the .3 in .380 right.
So that was an easy one.
Also, later, the Ladysmith .38 revolver because he'd made a point of telling her that this particular gun was hers, that he'd bought it for her protection. Though she'd never once fired it.
She also got the 12-gauge shotgun.
So that her right arm and her belly were spared.
But her buttocks weren't spared and he hit her hard there. She could feel the sting even as he moved on to the soft skin of her left thigh and her left inner arm.
Her breasts weren't spared.
And even though he used the whip more lightly there than anywhere else on her body in deference to their tenderness and sensitivity she wanted very much to scream then, only the thought of Robert holding her back, of Robert waking and wanting to know what was going on with mommy and daddy behind the locked door to their bedroom.
There were tears in her eyes when he was done.
When he released her she cursed him and showered and then she slept in the other room.
Another cold. More germs. Mommy this time.
"It was only a game," he said as she walked out the door. "Come on. You'll get over it."
The marks faded in an hour or so.
The memory never faded. She stored the memory like a chipmunk stores chestnuts for winter.
She never saw the handcuffs or the little black whip again. She assumed he'd thrown them away. Probably he was disgusted with her. Spoilsport.
She couldn't have cared less.
She threw the expensive black silk scarf in the garbage.
And for weeks there was nothing remotely like sex between them. Not so much as a peck on the cheek. She found that she didn't much mind that at all, either.
Arthur was withdrawing anyway. Spending more and more time away from the house. At The Caves. On the road. With his parents.
There were times she wondered if he had a girlfriend.
She wondered if she'd react the way she had with Jim.
She doubted it.
There were nights he'd come home with
Jeanne M. Dams
Lesley Choyce
Alyson Reynolds
Ellen Emerson White
Jasinda Wilder
Candi Wall
Debra Doxer
John Christopher
Anthony Ryan
Danielle Steel