Chapter 22: Roxanne redux

While Martha and Sandi became evermore fast friends, somewhat the same was going on with Roxanne and Lisa ... Lisa told Sandi privately that Roxanne had been good after she'd been chastised and not been a problem. She referred to Lisa as Mistress Lisa when they were alone at work, but had never made any other reference to her 'correction'.

But one day, Roxanne asked Lisa to go to lunch with her and, on 'neutral territory' as it were, poured out her heart. She said she'd been waiting for Lisa to make some move to incorporate her into Lisa's social life but now realized it wasn't going to happen. She also said her old boyfriend, who had 'introduced her to her inner self', had evidently gotten bored and dumped her; now she felt as if she was 'adrift' since she had no one to take control.

Lisa told Sandi, Sandi told me.

"Why are you telling me about this, Sandi? Both you and Lisa should know more than I do how to handle this."

"We do know ... that's what I'm telling you."

"What..."

"All she needs, Jake, is a stern father figure to make her feel secure."

"What she NEEDS is a shrink!"

"She's going to therapy, in fact her second attempt. The first guy tried to take advantage of her and she got up the nerve to quit him and tell him off. Now she's going to a woman therapist."

"Well, then..."

"Jake, you know those things don't change overnight. The doctor says she can overcome it eventually, but she needs a friend as a safe harbor, in the meantime."

"Aw, shit, Sandi ... you know I don't like that crap."

Sandi paused a while to gather her thoughts.

"Jake, you're avoiding the nature and nurture issue. You think that any man worth his salt will treat a woman with respect and as an equal. And that a woman should settle for nothing less than that respect. But you know as well as I do that it's not in our genes to act like that."

She threw that steely gaze at me. "The nurture aspect has a very thin skin. You have told me about your family and what you HAVENT mentioned is anyone in your family mistreating their wives or daughters. Am I right?"

"Well, yeah ... I don't know of any of my dad's side who did that ... and only one on my mom's side."

"There you are ... there may be generations in your ancestry where the man didn't beat his women. But everyone doesn't have that in their genes."

I shook my head.

"It takes time and effort, Jake, to overcome that sort of thing ... and we can pretty well guess that someone broke the thin veneer of nurture in Roxanne's character."

"Dammit, Jake ... we're not asking you to abuse her. Just give her enough of what she feels she needs to keep her from going to bars to find someone else to give it to her."

Then Sandi did the coup de grace. "Don't forget you implicitly PROMISED to discipline her ... and you haven't done anything about it, since."

"Well, she hasn't misbehaved, have she?"

"No, but she's beginning to wonder if the boundaries are still there, she struggles against acting out because she's not sure."

I thought about it for a while, in fact overnight, and I didn't get much sleep.

In the morning I told Sandi I'd go along.

About three days later, Lisa called me at 8:30 in the morning.

"Jake ... how are you?"

But she didn't wait for me to answer. "Roxanne came in this morning wearing dark nylons and a black bra and garter belt. I think she wants to see you ... even has her tongue stud in."

"How do you know..."

"Because she never dresses slutty at work. And she looked at me with some 'whipped puppy dog' stare and made sure I saw the tongue stud."

"Well, I guess that's a sign..."

"I'm going to make up a long lunch appointment, so I'll be out ... why don't you sorta 'drop in' at 11:30?"

"No ... I want her to come here."

"She'll be disappointed."

"Who cares what she thinks ... who's the master?"

Lisa giggled. "You are, sir."

"That's better, and don't forget that! I'll deal with you later."

"Is that a promise, sir?" She laughed and hung up.

The doorbell rang just before noon, as I was washing up my lunch dishes. I pushed the intercom button. "Yes ... who is it?"

"Roxanne ... uh ... sir."

"Who is it?"

" ... Your slut, master."

"Come in slut, and leave your blouse and skirt on the hall tree, along with your shoes, there in the foyer. I'm in the kitchen."

"Yes, master." I could hear a little tremble in her voice.

As I expected, she was delectable ... dark red lipstick, and the black lingerie set off her white skin very nicely. Her nipples were definitely proud and erect through her translucent bra-cups.

She stood there with her hands clasped in front of her crotch.

"Did I tell you to come in here, slut?"

"You ... err ... no, master." I thought I saw a little shiver.

I pointed to the patio door. "Go lean against that doorframe, and assume the position."

She seemed a little confused for a moment. "Yes, master." She went where told and leaned forward, feet back and pooched her butt up. She slowly turned her head to look at me. I decided to let that go, let her enjoy it.

I did decide, though, that I didn't want her to call me 'master' ... sounded too "I dream of Jeannie-ish".

"From now on slut don't call me master, just call me sir."

"Yes Sir."

I took my time getting my shirt and jeans off, but I made sure to whip the belt out of the loops, with a distinct 'whoosh'. The belt was as humane as I could find in my closet, it was the padded kind and soft leather on the outer and the edges were smooth and soft.

I doubled the belt and stepped forward. And smacked the belt against my palm several times, while I looked at the lovely sight in front of me.