Cameras.Cameras. There are cameras. I had to keep chanting the words in my head in order to force myself to do as Pope and his mother had commanded. I knew Vivian would watch the footage of what was about to happen. There was no way she wouldn't. For one, the sick bitch would want to make sure that I paid for my crime properly, and for another, I think she actually would find pleasure init.
So, I had no choice. I walked to the corner of the room furthest away from the door as if somehow that made me safer, and stood in it with my face inches from the wall. The warm burgundy paint became my only view, and the ridiculousness of the situation actually had me smiling in that uncomfortable and awkward way one couldn't control. Even as a child, I never stood in the corner, though I didn't exactly have a childhood with parents who offered guidance ever. But as an adult... I was stuck in the most fucked up nursery rhyme.
Demi Wayne was a naughty child.
Standing in the corner for being toowild.
About to be spanked on her bare behind.
To teach obedience, Pope would remind.
I struggled to not giggle which then led me to wonder if I had lost my mind just as much as Vivian had. Was I just as fucked and broken as she was? Why did I want to laugh? Why did I have butterflies fluttering in my tummy? With nothing to do but stand with my nose in the corner, I remembered a scene I had watched on Little House On The Prairie where Nellie Olsen had been put over her husband's knee and spanked. She was an adult, and her husband had spanked her for being a brat. I remembered that I had been fascinated with the scene. It had given me butterflies then like the ones I had now. Was this really going to happen? Was I about to be spanked like Nellie Olsen had? But that television show was set in the 1800s. Not in modern times. The discipline of a grown woman didn't happen in today's time. Did it? But then again, being kidnapped by a deranged Asian lady to be groomed to be the obedient and perfect wife didn't happen to people either.
The door opened. My other senses were heightened due to the fact that I could only see where the two walls met. I could hear the sound of Pope's boots as he entered the room. What would he do? Was he also chanting camera, camera, camera?
I could feel his presence as he came up to where I stood. I could smell his masculinity as his lips moved closer. I could feel the electric bolt sizzle through my core as he kissed me on my neck and then whispered to me so only I wouldhear.
"This has to happen for the sake of Maria. You know this right?"
I whispered, "Yes." And without having any self control in my body, I leaned into his kiss when I was given another delightful caress right below my ear. I knew Pope was only kissing me like this to hide our conversation, but it didn't take away the fact that his lips against my flesh did something to me. Something powerful.
"We have to maintain the illusion."
"Yes."
"I'm going to tell you sorry now. But it is my one and only time. I'm doing what I have to do, and I need to know that you accept that fact. After this moment, you will let it go. You will not look at me as an abusive asshole. I will not look at you as a victim. We will see this as just another act in order to save a woman and herbaby."
"Yes," I said again, desperately wanting another kiss. A trail of kisses leading to more. What the hell was happening to me, and why was my pussy throbbing in hungry need like a horny teenager?
