~~~~~~~~~~

137 Q Street
Part Seventeen
by sarAdora

~~~~~~~~~~

Watching her eat the meal he had prepared, he couldn't help marveling at her beauty. Neysa wasn't shy about displaying her luscious body but she wasn't vain, either. She didn't flaunt her charms; rather, she wore her beauty like Adam's Eve, unaware, and moved with a natural grace. He reached across the table and cupped her cheek, startling her.

"Why am I here?" she asked, pushing her chair away from the table.

"To be interrogated," he answered in the confident voice of one long associated with law enforcement. "To answer my questions truthfully," he added.

"What questions?" Neysa asked, still calm. This man might be an assistant director of the FBI, but he was also a man she had slept with, a man she knew intimately.

"Questions?" he queried. "Whatever questions I throw your way, little girl."

She didn't have a chance to protest; he picked her up and quickly handcuffing her hands behind her back, sat her in a straight-backed chair and took one facing her. His thighs surrounded hers, the seat of his chair touching the seat of hers so she couldn't kick him. Going nose-to-nose with her, he asked her if she was ready.

"For... for what?" she asked, clearly unhappy about this turn of events.

"For interrogation," he answered simply. "I'm going to ask questions and you're going to answer them. You're not going to escape through self-hypnosis and leave me talking to dead air."

"I'll do whatever I have to do to survive," Neysa replied with a calmness she wasn't feeling.

"Give me control," he said softly as he leaned into her.

"I can't..." she whispered, the mantra of self-hypnosis dragging her under and away from his relentless stare.

Her body was blossoming, on the brink of womanhood, the beauty she would become slowly rising to the surface. Ausma watched her little sister as she washed the supper dishes, aware that Neysa would need more protection than she and Inta could provide. It was time to teach Neysa how to defend herself physically. The girl knew how to ignore taunts but she was still an amateur at self-defense.

"What did those boys do to you, Neysa?" Alex asked in the soft voice of the good cop.

When she didn't answer him, he quickly upended her and immediately seared her butt with a heavy hand.

She yelped once, her eyes flying open and then drifted away again.

Ausma clucked over the black eye Neysa sported, washing it gently and then rubbed ointment into the young girl's knuckles. "Didn't I tell you not to pick on them, first?" she admonished her little sister. "The one who strikes first always loses. Where is the element of surprise? Wait, little one. Let them aim for you, then strike! If you don't learn this lesson, you will end up the worse for wear."

"But I thought I *was* surprising them," ten-year old Neysa protested. "I thought I'd get them before they got to me."

"And you were wrong, weren't you?" her sister shook her head. "One girl against the likes of those boys? You weren't thinking at all!"

"What did the boys do to you, Neysa?" Alex asked again. "How old were you? Tell me what happened."

They finally caught up with her, tearing her dress, exposing her budding breasts, their jeers and taunts unbearable, their hands on her worse. When the fat one put his hand between her legs and tried to push his fingers up into her soft virginal opening, she kicked him, hurting him badly.

The others held her down, their swift decision to rape her an enraged one because she had hurt their buddy. The "pack mentality" drew them to her, she on the ground, exposed and helpless. They surged forward... and froze when a shot rang out. Ausma wielded a rifle and she wasn't shy about using it.

The cowards ran for their lives. But the damage was already done, the confrontation had made a lasting impression. Boys would always harm her, the young Neysa thought. They'd always put their hands on her, hurting her, touching her in places they shouldn't touch.

He tossed her over his lap, his hand searing her bottom, bared now and about to blister from his continuous assault. "Come back to me," he yelled at her."

Neysa came back... threw up the contents of her stomach... and exhausted, fell against him.

"Tell me," he said quietly when he had washed her face and wrapped her in clean towels. "I won't hurt you, just tell me. Give me the control," he reminded her. "Give it to me and I'll take the handcuffs off and..."

"Why should I trust you?" she asked simply, surprised she could speak when her bottom hurt so much... her mind in a whirling turmoil... tumbling... slight nausea keeping her still. She ducked her head beneath his chin and leaned into his arms that held her close. "I don't even trust myself."

Not ready with a viable answer, he rocked her, cradling her in his arms, his breath warm on her neck as he tried to convey all the thoughts in his head, the deep feelings in his heart. He wasn't completely sure of how he felt about her but knew enough. He wanted her in his life... for the long haul. And that's what he told her, his heart on his sleeve, as exposed and vulnerable as she.

Neysa wanted to believe him but exposing herself to this man... giving up control of her body, her memories, her inner core... her need to remain independent... in control?

"Let me love you," he murmured. "Let me love you unrestricted... Don't hide from me," he urged her.

"Why?" she asked again.

"I'll keep you safe," he promised as he uncuffed her wrists. "I'll keep the demons at bay and love you. You'll be safe with me. You'll never have to hide again."

She told him what he wanted to know - all the ugly things that had happened in Latvia, the name calling, the endless childhood that was filled with loneliness, the taunts and terrors of the bullies, the beatings and the near-rapes. She cried when she related the memory of stabbing a boy in the butt so he wouldn't rape her and she sobbed when she told him how cowardly and helpless she felt until the knife went through his flesh. Rallying, she told him of her inner strength, the need to never give a man control of her body again, her vow to always be in charge, on top, and in control.

Until she met him...

"And now?" he asked as he lay beside her in the bed.

"I don't know," she answered and she didn't. "What happens next?"

"Next," Alex murmured as he gathered her close. "You get to be on top and make love to me."

"And then?" she asked as she straddled his body.

"Then I take you into the shower with me, love you with my mouth," he murmured as she impaled herself on his hard shaft. "I'll love you again and again until you beg for mercy," he promised.

"That's what you think!" she laughed softly as her hips moved against his.

"I'll keep you here on Q Street if you don't behave," he warned, delivering a hard swat to her searing butt, making her yelp in pain.

"I'll hypnotize myself," she promised. "It's a habit I don't need to think about; it just happens."

"I'll blister your butt black and blue if you do," he promised in return. "And I'll break you of that habit if it's the last thing I do."

"I think I love you, Alex Morris," she told him as she rode him hard.

"I know you do," he smiled, picturing the years ahead and grinning in anticipation. It would be rough for awhile but they were on their way. She trusted him which was a very big step for her and he knew it was a beginning. He vowed to keep her honest to herself and to him and to whatever future they might share together. He told her he'd help her rebuild her home and even teased her, saying that she could bring a few strays home, too.

She laughed, saying she'd do whatever she wanted to do. "I don't need your permission, Alex Morris."

"As long as I maintain control, you can do whatever you want," he chuckled.

"What?" she paused on top of him to stare, his audacity rendering her speechless.

And in those seconds of silence... he rose up, pushing her onto her back and thrust deeply into her, one hand cupping her very sore bottom, the other on the back of her neck. His mouth covered hers and when they reached the peak of their pleasure, he let her up for air, whispering... "And to be sure you know who's in control," he murmured, "I'll keep you very well spanked and so very well loved."

~ End ~

Return to Spanking Fiction - Main Menu.