The Guardianship
Part Seven
by Jack Lennox* * * * * * *
7
Friday, July 10th, had started as a pleasant and uneventful day. She was simply living in the present. Following the routine. Tomorrow just another predictability. It did not occur to her that every day is a door to the future; that the future can come but one day at a time, yet a single day can shape all days yet to come.
She and Dan had both managed to beat rush hour traffic home, had eaten a light dinner, and had set out on an early evening walk. They had taken a direct route straight down Clairmont Avenue for about a half-mile before cutting north on a path leading down into a ravine with densely wooded hillside on their left and the backs of large multi-storied homes above tiers of freshly moved grass on their right. It was her favorite time of summer day, everything lit by a softer light from the west, and that evening seemed especially fresh, fraught with an invigorating air of restless prospect. The sun had relinquished its stranglehold on the day and what remained was a pleasant warmth. Dan was dressed in a thick gray sweatshirt and shorts, Nina was wearing thin blue sweatpants and a white T-shirt.
She was feeling energetic and welcomed the exercise after a sedentary afternoon at work. Much as the ravine split the wild on one side from the ordered on the other so, it seemed, had the spanking she had received over a week before. Psychologically, that day seemed to divide her life in two - before and after. She had spent the week following the dramatic punishment in a state that felt almost drug-induced -- not hallucinogenic, not stimulated or depressed, not exactly narcotic, but definitely mood-altering. It had been an extremely cathartic experience. The spanking had overwhelmed her. The wounded little girl full of fear, who had failed to hold up to life's injustices had been, in a sense, liberated -- forced to confront her demons; poisons within her had been purged. Someone had cared about her, supported her, and through their strength and determination, had allowed her to be completely dependent and vulnerable.
The previous Thursday, eight days before, began a reinstated week without Internet access. She did not really miss it. What she sought was normalcy - as in the typical life that a normal adult might lead. She was perfectly content to plod through the mundane, in fact, seemed to crave it. At work she embraced the most menial or repetitive task and performed it with a Zen-like calm. At home she finally got her checkbook balanced and organized all of her receipts and financial records in neat folders. She finished a hundred of the word puzzles she enjoyed, her concentration focused. In the evenings she went for her long walk, even without Dan accompanying her, and also rediscovered her love of reading a good book. Before bed she would draw. It seemed all the passion restrained that day would pour from her, and she would sketch feverishly until bedtime, masturbate, then fall into a restful night's sleep.
As the curving path turned slightly west, Nina noticed that a fairly large thundercloud was building over the city like a nuclear explosion. She hadn't seen any storm warnings on TV, but then she had only flipped by a few channels briefly when she got home from work. Chances are it was nothing to worry about but it, nevertheless, made her uneasy. They crested a small hill and found themselves crossing a neighborhood park. They followed the path around a large amoeba-shaped area of sand where several children were running and screaming, climbing over several pieces of colorful plastic playground equipment of yellow, red, and blue. She laughed as she saw a little blonde girl glide down a 360-degree slide after a little dark-haired boy, and then chase him across the sand before bringing him down like a lioness after an antelope. At twenty-eight years of age, she was beginning to wonder about having kids herself; however, it was not something she was going to tackle on her own.
After that momentous day, in her centered state, she had begun to think about her future. She had first examined her options from a practical standpoint. She could seek further education, perhaps relating to business, in order to upgrade her job skills and aim for some kind of promotion at work. She could even look into other opportunities elsewhere--Denver was a major center of activity for the technology fields. The idea failed to excite her. What she really wanted was to pursue her art. Whether it meant taking classes at night or quitting her job completely and enrolling full time, she had a hunger to learn more about her craft and to explore and appreciate the great works that she saw hanging in museums and galleries. She knew it wasn't an easy way to make a living, but she envisioned several possibilities including teaching, becoming an agent, working for an institution, and perhaps even selling her own work. She had not mapped out any final strategies, but for the first time in her life, she felt like turning her art into a living could become a reality.
The park was behind them, and after following a curving track along a dry creek bed and through banks of wild scrub-covered hills, the path led up a short steep slope that ended at its entrance or exit, depending on which way you were going. It let out on a residential street much like the one they lived on, and they continued their brisk pace, stride-for-stride, on standard sidewalks. They had followed this route several times, and Nina knew that around the corner they would come to Highlands Parkway, the main boulevard, cross it, then would find a new path entrance that led down into a large valley that would take them north and west. She barely noticed the fairly stiff breeze of cooler air they were walking into as they discussed a documentary they had seen the night before about South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission. They were still affected by the terrible atrocities depicted as people caught up in apartheid confessed their sins in order to gain amnesty, but also inspired by the unadulterated truth being sought by a nation in order to heal itself. Neither of them could be described as political activists, but Nina learned fairly early in their relationship that she and Dan shared common fundamental social and political values. In past relationships she had mostly kept her opinions to herself, and she had been surprised to realize that their ideological compatibility mattered to her.
She had not brought up, with Dan, the discoveries she had made about his past. She still felt guilty about her invasion of his privacy and his possible reaction made her a little apprehensive. She would bide her time, wait for the right moment; she knew that her heart would not forever be content with secrets held between them. In the quiet moments of her week, she had come to see the paddling that he had administered on her bottom as a new watershed in their relationship. It had forged a bond between them that was primal - a supreme act of intimacy. In some strange but fundamental way, he had become her daddy, the only man on earth who could straighten her out when she needed it. She felt a sweet vulnerability knowing that he would use his power to guide her and that his discipline would truly compel her, yet she did not feel trapped by it. If her heart must hunger when she thought about him, then it would only be that much sweeter when their love was someday fully realized. The rugged valley they were crossing had darkened, and a strong gust of cool wind hit her in the face blowing the cap right off her head and her loose shoulder-length hair into a wild mess. The cumulonimbus cloud above and ahead of them had grown substantially, towering above the city like some mythic beast. Nina felt a clammy sensation as she recognized the dangerous anvil-shape into which it was forming. Retrieving her cap, she heard the growl of thunder. It meant that they were within 10 miles of dangerous lightning. Crossing an open field was a prime location to avoid in the case of a thunderstorm, and she now sensed that this was going to be a severe one. She saw a flash...counted to ten before she heard thunder. The lightning bolt she saw was probably little more than two miles away.
She did not like lightning, never did. When she was a young girl, her uncle was struck. He survived, but had terrible burns on his head, neck, and shoulders, lost his hearing, and never seemed quite right in the head afterwards. She had gone to the library at school and read everything she could about thunderstorms ...still could not seem to pass up a story or article that broached the subject. Although the chances of getting hit were unlikely, she knew that 50 to 100 people are killed each year in the U.S. by flashes that can heat air to 40,000 degrees Fahrenheit. Several hundred people are also injured every year by lightning. Cardiac arrest is the most common cause of death. "This is not looking good," Dan confirmed what she already knew.
"I know. We're kind of exposed out here, and we've got tall trees to go through ahead." She knew that trees made great targets for lightning, and you did not want to be under one when it was hit.
The sky was rapidly darkening. She felt a few drops of cool rain on her forehead and arms. The path was but the thinnest of ribbons lain over and through the wild landscape, and as stronger gusts of wind began to stir all that was around her, she had a sobering sense of her own tiny and fragile place in it. Her life was frozen for the tiniest moment as another white hot flash split the sky ahead of them in a ragged fork that could only belong to the devil himself. When her senses could adjust, she counted to four this time before she heard a sharp crack of thunder that seemed to physically push her backward and left a ringing in her ears. Her stomach turned over. It was closer, the storm likely heading towards them. She knew that thunder is caused by the expansion of heated air and that sound travels much slower than light. A sound that is five seconds away measures about a mile. The oppositely charged particles that surge upward toward a cloud - that complete the awesome electrical circuit that is lightning - possibly hundreds of millions of volts - could already be gathering on the ground on which they were walking.
"There's that big building behind those trees up ahead -- across the road," he offered.
"It's some kind of plant, probably closed this time of evening," she added through labored breathing.
"Well, we may have to make a run for it and take our chances. If so, try to stay as low to the ground as you can."
It was scary how abruptly the storm was upon them. The rain had picked up considerably and was being blown in gusts almost horizontally into their faces, everything around them in violent motion. They had climbed a small hill and the path was leading into what could pass as a small sparse forest. The trees were more than restless. Blasts of wind ripped through their branches causing even large trunks to sway precariously, and Nina imagined a giant invisible hand trying to shake the life out of them. She was frightened. The full force of nature seemed to have picked the spot they were occupying to throw a furious tantrum.
She could feel it in her hair, smell it in the air. Something was imminent -- something even more potent than the wind and water. They were running now, but she knew she could just as easily be heading closer to danger than farther from it. Dan jogged at a pace she could maintain, but she soon realized that her conditioning extended to power walking and not much beyond. Her lungs were beginning to ache when a brilliant explosion just ahead of her on her right blinded her, and as she fell to the ground she experienced a tingling sensation that spread over her extremities. The clap of thunder seemed to drive her further into the ground and hurt her ears. Completely disoriented, through the sound of pounding rain and driving winds, she heard a voice.
"Nina! Are you okay!?"
"I think so," she shouted over the storm. She didn't feel any pain. She could move her fingers and toes. He had her hand, was pulling her up, and they were running through what had become a wall of water. There were more bright explosions all around her, not as close, but her nostrils were assaulted with the heavy sweet smell of ozone. With head down, guided only by his hand and the puddled gray path at her feet, her thought was to put as much distance as she could between where she was and wherever she was going.
Her breath came in ragged wet gulps as they sprinted up the final grade to the roadway above. She felt him slow down and looked up to see a large pile of branches lying across the path in front of her. To her right she could see the tree it came from, split down the middle where the current had flowed through it, mud splattered everywhere from a jagged trench blown out of the ground. He lifted her over the obstruction, and they were racing again, soaked like drowned rats from the sheets of rain that swirled around them in dangerously high downburst winds. She shut it all out of her mind and concentrated only on keeping up with Dan.
The land flattened and the ground changed to darker pavement. They had reached the road, and through the downpour, the long rectangular building loomed like the ghost of an ocean liner. A new sound frightened her. It started as a few pops, like tiny fizzled firecrackers, but soon built into a clamor...a drum roll ...as small chunks of ice bounced off the cement in a thousand small splashes; she felt a brief pain on her forearm. Strong updrafts were carrying water droplets above the freezing level which then fell as hail. A frozen droplet could be lifted several times, adding layer after layer of ice until it is heavy enough to fall to the ground. Some of the hailstones looked to be as large as a ping pong ball in size, posing yet another danger. Coincidentally, the last reported death in the U.S. due to hail, an infant, had occurred in 1979 in Fort Collins, Colorado.
She felt Dan let go of her hand. Panicked, she looked up as they ran and saw him stripping off his sweatshirt. Covering her head with it, he took her by the shoulders and hunched over against the new onslaught, he guided her across the street towards their only hope of shelter from the vengeful storm.
The main gate was closed and locked, but after following a chain-link fence for several yards, they found an opening. They raced to the top of a small hill of mown grass and then a walkway that led up to and ran along the backside of the building. There was no overhang from the roof, and they were still being pelted by hail and the world around them electric. She couldn't see a thing, only knew they were running in a straight line. All of a sudden she was jerked to the left and the sky that had been falling on her abruptly stopped its assault. As she tried to catch her breath, she pulled his dripping sweatshirt off of her head, brushed sopping strings of hair out of her eyes, and looked around. They were in a small recess; the storm raging just outside its only opening. She realized they had stumbled on a remote service entrance, the door bolted, a bare bulb above them protected in a wire cage illuminating the approximately 8 x 8 foot area with a warm yellow light.
She turned and saw Dan sitting drenched, back against the door, rubbing his head. With a groan of frightened concern, she kneeled at his side, asking him if he was okay. He assured her he was just a little sore, but she gently fussed over his head looking for bumps or bruises, then moved down to check his bare shoulders and back, running her fingers over his taut muscular torso. He interrupted her, taking her hands in his; he managed a warm smile for her and again assured her that he was fine.
The air in the small space was humid, and feeling uncomfortable in her wet clothes, she turned away from him, stripped off her top and wrung it out. She knelt, untied and removed her Reebok Princess walking shoes, then slipped off her socks, which also relinquished a surprising amount of water. Fairly certain that nobody would see her but Dan, she pushed her sweatpants down, stepped out of them, and tried to squeeze as much rain out of them, as well. The cool air was welcome on her bare skin covered only by her panties. Turning back, she stood in front of him with her arms folded over her chest and beginning to feel a little heat. The storm that raged outside was already a part of her past, and she had future designs on the man sitting so close to her in the confined space. She wondered if she had the nerve to try and persuade him into making it their very own private little world.
The storm continued to bluster only a few feet away, but the rain had slackened, and the wind had abated; the sound of hail on the roof of the building had quieted. The center of the storm had passed over them, but they would not be reasonably safe from lighting for many more minutes. Slipping her shirt back on, and spreading her damp pants on the cement floor as a cover, she sat down next to him, hip-to-hip, her bare leg touching his.
"I'm sorry, Nina, I almost got us killed out there today... I should have checked the weather forecast."
She turned, her face inches from his. "It wasn't your fault... I should be thanking you for saving me... you were like my superhero tonight." She grinned at him and put her hand on his broad shoulder. She liked the way he felt, the way he smelled. She thought a moment, looked for words. "I have a confession to make... Promise you won't be mad at me?"
"I don't think I could be mad at you, Nina," he grinned back at her.
She hesitated before continuing. "Last week, when I was using your computer, I was looking for something and spotted the news clippings in your drawer. I was curious, and the next day I went back and read them." She spoke softly, "...I know about Anabella." Dan just looked at her. She couldn't read his expression. "Are you mad?" She looked at him hopefully.
"No," he managed. "I guess if I really needed it to be a secret, I would have locked the information away someplace."
Nina felt relief. "I just had to tell you how sorry I am...about your loss."
Dan squeezed her knee. "Thanks."
"So, you were an actor."
"Yes."
"It looked like you were starting to make it big. Why did you quit?"
"It takes an energy... After Anabella... I just didn't have that any more. Besides, without her, any success would have seemed pretty hollow."
"You really loved her."
He let out a short wry laugh. "Yes." She saw the pained look on his face, took his large hand in her two smaller ones.
"I hate to see you so miserable."
"I'm okay."
"No, you're not okay," she whispered the words, trying to make them as gentle as she could. "It's been over two years, Dan."
"What is the time limit on grief, Nina?"
She didn't know. For several minutes they sat next to each other in silence.
"Do you know what the cure for grief is?" she asked him quietly, while seemingly intent on rubbing a sore spot on her knee where she had fallen earlier.
"What?" He sounded like maybe he knew the answer.
"Hope... it shows you new possibilities." She turned to look at him, again their faces close. "You need hope in your heart, and you have to be willing to listen to it."
He looked at her, then back ahead of him into space. "There's a saying... death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal."
His words deflated her. "That doesn't give hope much of a chance, then."
"I guess it depends on what you're hoping for. I'm not doing so bad as you think, Nina... What are you hoping for?" His gaze remained fixed in front of him.
"Well...to be honest, I'm hoping you'll give me a good spanking for prying into your personal life," she laughed nervously, not sure where she came up with that one.
He looked at her, seemed he couldn't help but smile. "I really don't think that's necessary."
"Spankings don't always need to be necessary," it sounded a little silly to her, but the look she gave him was completely serious. She could not read the look on his face, but his mouth was so close to hers, she leaned slightly and placed her lips against his. He didn't move, and she began to kiss him, gently on one side of his mouth, gently on the other, then gently in the center. Her tongue slipped out ever so slightly and she traced from left to right along the entire length of where his mouth would not open. Her need was palpable.
He turned his head away. "No, Nina. I'm sorry..." He looked back in pain, then got up abruptly, grabbed his sweatshirt off the floor and slipped it on over his head. He walked to the entryway and stood there looking out at where the storm had passed.
She sat with her back to the door. Somehow, the concrete floor kept her from sinking to the center of the earth. Eventually, she could not say how long, she redressed into her damp clothes, and they were walking through what the storm had left in its wake. She could only put one foot in front of the other, wondering how many steps it would take before she was home...a million? ...a billion? They walked beside each other, matching strides, saying nothing...two hearts without hope...two hearts that could only grieve for what would never be.
* * * * * * *
"I don't want you to go." They were standing face-to-face in Dan's office. He had been seated at his desk when she told him she could no longer continue their relationship. She had already packed up several of her things.
"Why?" she asked even though she really did not expect an answer that would change anything.
"Because I want to take care of you."
"Why?"
"Because I care about you."
"You care about a little girl, Dan." Her voice was soft. She tried to keep her emotions out of it, but was not very successful. "I need to be more than that."
"I don't see you as a little girl."
"You don't see me as a woman... I'm not Anabella. I know I'll never be..." She looked in his eyes...searching. "You really don't see me as a woman, do you?" It was more a statement than a question. She saw no confirmation. She saw no answer.
There were wet tears on her cheeks, but calm resolve in her voice, as she reached out to touch his hand. "This is my fault. I just didn't know what I was getting into here. I don't blame you. You've taken good care of me in the only way you can, and I thank you for that... Goodbye, Dan."
In what used to be her room, she grabbed as many things as she could carry. She would have to get someone to pick up the rest of her belongings. She had dried her tears, would leave with dignity. She walked down the hallway, into the living room, felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned. "No, Dan, please. There's nothing more to say."
"Nina. I see you as a woman."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I see you as you are." He had her delicate shoulders in his hands, looked at her squarely. "I wish you saw you the way I see you."
She just stared up at him, her lip quivered. He leaned close, whispered. "I wish you could see your own golden glow."
He kissed her forehead.
"I wish you could see the eternal gentleness in your own eyes."
His hand soft on her cheek.
"I wish you could see your own heartbreaking fragility ...your grace ...how your sweet mouth begs to be kissed."
He pressed his lips to hers, kissed her gently, then pulled back. There were tears in his eyes. "I might have known before I ever saw you but I thought it a betrayal; then, I didn't think I could ever risk it again... She wants me to move on... I want to move on." He kissed her mouth again. "You're my hope, Nina... sweet angel... I love you."
The evening sun spilled through windows infusing the room with an ethereal radiance, turning her world upside down in its timelessness. Nina believed. She was again that little girl - special in someone's eyes. She was a woman - could take care of herself, demand respect, seduce the man she wanted. She placed her hands at the base of his neck, kissed him back. She would not even think of letting him go until he had made glorious love to her. Their arms were in a tangle as they tried to hastily undress one another.
Shirts, shoes, socks, pants, underclothes, everything removed so that they could be naked - nothing to come between the love they were about to make right there on the living room carpet. He wrapped her body in his arms, lifted her, and held her tightly against his body as their mouths tried desperately to quench the long-suffering thirst they had for one another. His torso was both hard and soft, and on arched foot and bended toe, she rubbed her tiny breasts, smooth belly and supple thighs up and down him like an amorous kitten. She reached down and placed her fingers on his manhood; it was rigid against his stomach, as hard and erect as it would ever need to be. She felt his fingers tracing her cleft, spreading, exploring; she was panting and as wet as she would ever need to be.
They dropped to the floor. She felt the plush carpet on her back and buttocks, and he was on top of her, sliding into her expectant inner fire, impaling her full and deep, but she tightened her muscles around his eager cock and pulled him in even deeper. She had never wanted anything more than she wanted him to be inside her. Her internal walls expanded and contracted, gripping him, squeezing, releasing, making him thrust harder and faster until he began to growl. Neither of them had experienced anything like it for a long time, and there would be no subtleties...no restraint. She felt the flood as he poured himself into her, but she was being rocked by her own explosion. He came for a long time, and while he remained hard, she clung to him, showers of fire igniting her, until they finally collapsed completely spent.
He pulled out and rolled over on his back. He lay there slack, breathing gradually slowing. She turned on her side, fingers tracing along his arm, all of a sudden tentative. She searched his face for a most important answer.
He turned his head to her. "Wow!" he beamed, loving her with his eyes.
She was up, swung her leg over him and was straddling his midsection. "That's it? Wow?" she snorted, her smile radiant. "Very effusive."
He tickled her ribs and she giggled, grabbed his wrists. He allowed her to fall towards him, and she pinned his arms over his head as she kissed him. "I love you, Daniel Foster."
"I love you, my warrior princess," he grinned.
"Looks like I've slain the mighty giant." "Only temporarily, my angel." He ran his thumb over her lips, and she opened her mouth to suck on it as if it were the sweetest lollipop she'd ever tasted. "But maybe we'll need to redefine our relationship a little," he suggested. "You might be getting too big to be spanked."
"Don't you even think it!" she eyed him seriously, then broke into her most adorable smile that made him laugh.
"Okay then. I think I'm going to have to institute the good-girl spanking around here."
"Oooh! Now you're talking, Mister. Sounds like you've been doing your homework," she approved, as she let go of his hands and returned the favor by tickling his ribs.
They wrestled, she squealed, and he was standing up with her still straddling him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, he walked with her down the hall to what used to be his bedroom but would from then on be theirs. He sat on the edge of the bed and Nina offered no resistance to being positioned face-down across his knee so that she could be properly spanked. She sighed as she felt his hands become acquainted with her back, her thighs, her tender cheeks. As he fondled her, it was as if she could feel her own softness against his hard-but-gentle palm, her own smoothness from the friction of his rougher flesh. She was being teased, and she yearned for the tingle ...the sting ...the heat. She arched and spread her legs to show him her sex. She was a bad girl who needed it bad.
He must have taken her gesture as an invitation; she felt his fingers slip into her, then out, then sensed his slickened thumb that slid down to find her burning clit, rubbing it lightly. She moaned, and he answered her by raising and bringing the palm of his hand down crisply on the fleshiest spot on her right bottom cheek. She felt a sting unlike any she had experienced. His relaxed hand remained there as she squirmed with pleasure, holding in her warmth before treating the other cheek to an identical ministration. When he took his hand away she imagined faint outlines of his fingers painted in pink on her alabaster skin.
She arched her bottom further and felt cooler wet kisses on her warmer flesh. He was back to caressing... and kneading... and teasing... but slowly building her fire with loving spanks on her upturned bottom.
Suspended over the fulcrum of his virile lap, her hips moved, prodded by her desire; her legs flexed, straightened, toes curled in answer to each infliction of sweet torture. She was a captive; she was a temptress ...she had never felt so sexy in her life. Fueled by wanton arousal, she begged for him to be more stringent, needed the sting to match the intensity of her love and her lust. He shifted her position over his one leg so that she was completely accessible and exposed, and then with one hand above and one below, delivered her to oblivion.
Pushing him onto his back on the bed as she lay prone, their bodies formed a "T-shape", her feet as its foot and her mouth at its cross. She gripped the base of his cock, and with her eyes and the tips of her fingers, slowly examined the rigid stalk that sprouted from her fist. She took her time, because she was fascinated by its beauty, and because she wanted him to hunger for her before she started. He moaned and, with her tongue extended, gave him one lazy lick across his width and just under the head. He moaned again. She repeated the stroke several times, and with little enticing kisses, before she felt his hand on the back of her head, urging her forward. Instead of giving him what he wanted, she skillfully attacked him with wet little darts, each making him even more desperate for her. The power she had over him excited her, but she wasn't thinking about herself just then. She relinquished, opened her lips to take in just the head of his penis and demonstrated for him the wicked talents of her tongue. Finally, with languid sucking, she enveloped him fully in the sweet wet heat of her mouth. She was pouring all of her concentration into his pleasure, and she knew she was good at what she was doing. She wasn't sure exactly what she would be doing with the rest of her life, but she recognized fulfillment -- taking care of the man she loved.
Sounds were coming from somewhere deep within him, and he was rotating his hips in time to beg for her continued attentions. Her intention was to suck him dry, but he interrupted her, needed to be inside of her again. As they were repositioning themselves, they caught each other's gaze, stopped for a moment, perhaps an eternity... His eyes shown with a new light, and she looked into their depths, and knew... a winding path, indeed, but they both were home again. She felt his mouth on her breast, her belly, then a warmth on her delicate folds before his tongue found and began teasing her tumid and agonizingly sensitive nub. She groaned. Pushing her still heated bottom upward off the sheets by the balls of her feet to meet his mouth with a desperate impatience, Nina Marie Andersson embraced the journey into her delicious future.