The moon followed Collette as she drove through the dark night.  It was as if it was spying on her, watching her every move as she drove towards Mark's hotel room.  She drove slowly, her mind spinning.  Why was there a contract out on her life and who was this woman to want it to happen?  Was it something that she had done or something that she was going to do?  Could it be a preemptive strike against her that prompted the attempt on her life?

    She sighed.

    The Holiday Inn appeared before her with the highway just past.  She thought briefly of just jumping onto the ribbon of road and drive until the sun came up.  The idea appealed to her and a small smile crept onto her face.  If only.  

    If only.  How many times had she said those two words.

    And as she pulled the car in the half-full parking lot of the hotel the past came unbridled into her thoughts.

* * * * *    

    The water lapped against the shore in a melodic whisper.  Pinpoints of light were smiling down on Collette as she lay on her back staring into eternity.  Her fingers were intertwined with the fingers of her fiance, with her left leg draped over his right thigh.  And she was smiling as she listened to his deep voice, "I have never been happier."

    "Really?" She was teasing him, she knew how he felt.  He had never been one to shy away from his emotions, always willing to share how he felt, the consequences be damned. It was one of his strength and she loved him for it.

    She could hear his smile, "yes.  And you know what else?"

    "What?"

    "I love making you happy."

    And she knew he did.  He seemed to unconsciously accept her suggestions as his own, always bending to her will, but never breaking.  He was a solid tree that could sway in the forceful gale of a hurricane only to remain standing and strong when the storm had passed.  She ran her thumb over his knuckles and replied in the darkness, "you do make me happy."

    She could hear him breathing and feel his chest rising and falling next to her.  The moon disappeared behind a stray cloud making the dark night seem even darker.  They held each other softly, listening to the water lap the shore and feeling content just to be wrapped in each other's warm thoughts and soft hands.  "You really do," she mouthed, no sound spilling from her throat.

    * * * * * 

    Stop it! 

    Her mind shouted at her, commanding her to drop her thoughts and to concentrate on retrieving Mark's suitcase.  Stop it, the words came again, stop it now.  Do you want to sit in the parking lot with your face in your palms crying as the past rushes through your thoughts, robbing you of your reason?  Do you?  Then stop it.

    No, she thought as a frown furrowed her brow and her dark eyes moistened, I don't.  

    But as she parked the car the past came unhindered and the tears did fall.

* * * * *

     She took a step, a big step.  Sitting with her knees crossed, her feet bouncing nervously she spoke the words that changed her life.  Her voice trembled, "I want to hurt you."

    Finally.  After six years of subdued jokes about her desire to inflict pain she finally was able to mouth the words, to bluntly say what it was she desired.  No, desired was not the word.  Need.  Need was the way to describe how she felt.  She needed to hurt him, but more importantly, she needed him to accept this last, tangible part of her soul.  She had thrown caution to the wolves and had bared the deepest secret of her being to him in the hopes that he would not crush that part of her beneath his heel, that instead he would accept this part of her as readily and with as much love as he accepted the rest of her.  She needed to hurt him and she needed him to both accept and understand that need.

    He could deny her nothing.  "Okay."

    So simple his acceptance and so earth-shattering that her feet fell apart and her eyes moistened.  She croaked a tender, "thank you."  And her heart leapt.  She had bared herself to him, revealing that last hidden piece of herself that she had kept hidden since her first adolescent foray into pain that she had experienced while experimenting with the boy that had lived across from her.  She had hit that seventeen year old boy and when he cried she had had to run home and masturbate into a furious orgasm that had made her whole body seem like an omnipotent stream of energy.  Since that day she knew what she was but had been unable to reveal the depths of her desires. 

    Until today.

    Now she had revealed herself and that revelation had led into a joy that she had never felt.  She had steeled up the courage to open that last hidden refuge from her fiance and he had accepted that as easily as he had accepted the rest of her.  Each time a quirk of hers had been revealed he had reveled in it.  He had cried with her when she had confessed that she just couldn't sleep without the stuffed bear that had been the last gift her father had bought her before he had died and he had laughed joyously at the amusing look on her face when she had admitted how she just wouldn't eat lima beans in any form.

    "They're icky," she had said and her face had contorted into an almost painful sneer.  Her head shook as the memory of the awful taste ran through her mind.

    And he had laughed.  Not at her, he had never done that, but with her.  Sharing with her another aspect of that part of her that made her who she was, the woman he loved more that life itself.  He had said to her that he would willingly give up his life for her and when he had spoken the words she knew that they were not just words, that the truth in them was as real as anything she could taste, touch, hear or smell.  

    She looked into his eyes, her fingers running tenderly over the knuckles of his hands, and said simply, "I love you."

    "I know." 

    The two of them were sitting at the small table that sat in the kitchen nook.  Collette's feet were firmly planted on the ground, as if she had prepared to run from the room if her feelings had been hurt.  Her fiance stood up and crossed the kitchen.  He opened the drawer next to the sink and pulled out a blue spatula.  Smiling he turned back to her, "will this work?"

    She shook her head in amazement, "oh, yes." Her voice was almost a choked sob of elated bliss.

    "Here?"

    "Please."

    "How do you want me?" He could not deny her.  It was her fantasy, what she needed, and he wanted it to be perfect.  He wanted her to look back and remember that first time as a time of perfection that would bring a smile to her lips no matter where the memory struck.  He could not deny her and he would not.

    "Naked.  Hands and knees." Her words were abrupt.  It was as if she was afraid of them, that uttering the words would chase away the reality of the fantasy as a shining light chased away the childhood monsters that lurked in the dark closets and under the small beds.  But they didn't erase the fantasy.  Instead they progressed it into reality. Like a caterpillar into a butterfly the uttering of her needs transformed her future into something more beautiful than it had been.

    She was complete.

    She watched as he stripped.  He dropped the shorts and underwear he had been wearing in one deft motion and stood naked before her.  With a wry grin on his face he crossed the kitchen and placed the spatula in her hand, "for you," he said.  He took one step back and spun around.  He crouched and then lowered himself further to the ground until he was on his hands and knees, his ass towards her, awaiting the first swipe against his body that would mark the beginning of her fantasies realization. 

    He heard her stand up and when she was standing next to him she asked, "are you sure?"

    He nodded, afraid of his own voice.  

    Collette hefted the spatula and slapped his naked ass.  The retort was as loud as a gunshot in the small kitchen and when her fiance rocked forward and gasped in pain her pussy became damp. By the time she finished an even twenty slaps against his upturned ass, her pussy was soaked.   "Thank you," she breathed throatily.

    His ass was red.  She had not deceived either of them by pulling the blows and his ass was screaming in pain and burning with the heat of her blows. He turned his head to look up at her.  His eyes were moist and he was on the verge of tears.  Those tears melted away when he looked into her dark eyes.  Her face was a mask of pleasure, her eyes glowing brightly.  She had been entirely honest when she had spoken of her need and by the look on her face he could read that truth.  She had enjoyed that more than she had stated and that pleasure was as evident as the moon on a cloudless night.  

    When he spoke his voice was weak, "you are welcome."  He had not enjoyed the spanking but he did enjoy the look on her face and the shining of her eyes.

    Collette held her hand to him and he took it.  She pulled him to his feet and pulled him behind her into the bedroom.  She dropped onto the bed and spread her legs wide, "eat me," she hissed.

    He climbed between her thighs and with the first stroke of his tongue against her clit she came.  Her hips bucked against his face and her fingers dug into the sheets of the bed, pulling the fabric into a ball in her moist hands.  She screamed loudly as her body exploded in pleasure and when her pleasure passed and her breathing returned to normal she commanded, "eat me again."

    And he did.  He ate her dripping sex until she came twice more.  Her moans filled the room and the sounds spurred his cock into turgidity.  He was hard and feeling the same need that she had felt, a need that reverberated throughout his body.  He needed to feel her sex enveloping his cock.  Needed to feel the pleasure of orgasm rack his body as her orgasms had raced through her body.  All he could do was whisper, "please."

    "Please what?" Collette taunted him, her voice light and raspy.  

    "Please, may I come?"  It was so easy for him to fall into a submissive role that when he realized what he asked his face fell in comprehension.  She had stated her desire to him and in turn had come to realize a deeper part of his own psyche.  He needed her to take control as much as she needed to take it.  She had been honest when she had confessed her desire to him and now he realized that there was a part of him that needed her to have control and to be as honest to her as she had been to him, he whispered, "control me."

    She paused, looking down at him as he knelt between her parted thighs. "What did you say?" Her voice was full of incredulity.  Had she heard him right?  Had that last piece of herself  that she had finally revealed been the catalyst in his own mind that made him reveal a deeper part of himself?  

    "Control me," he repeated softly.

    She nodded slowly and whispered with tears in her soft eyes, "yes."

    She had found that last piece of herself in him; his yang to her ying.  She was a complete entity now, he had completed her as readily as she had completed him.  Together they were a whole and together they were invincible.  She knew there was nothing that they could not do as a pair and as she shook her head in stunned disbelief she could only smile. "No."

    He looked at her and asked, "no.  You cannot come."

    He moaned as the reality of her words and could only repeat his plea, "please."

    She softly shook her head, "no."

    He moaned and she melted at the sound.  It was better than the serenade of any other animal singing to a prospective mate.  It was the sound of his submission and she knew by the tone that he would obey, that his request for her control was not a rushed decision that their tryst had been the catalyst for; it was real and he would obey.

    "I want to beat you some more," she breathed huskily. "Go bring me three items to beat you with. Surprise me"

    He climbed from the bed and whispered, "okay."  His voice was gravely when he spoke the lone word and Collette enjoyed the pleading tone.

    She watched as he left the bedroom.  She waited patiently, wondering what he was going to bring to her.  Her hand danced over her extended clit, slowly masturbating while imagining what items he would bring for his own misery.  Was he choosing the items carefully, trying to decide what would hurt the least? Or was he instead just rushing through the house just racing to return to the bedroom?  She was curious and she knew she would ask.

    He returned to the bedroom and returned with three different items for Collette to use on his sore ass.  In his hands he held a wooden spoon from the kitchen; a flyswatter, thin and flimsy; and a large hairbrush that she kept in the hallway bathroom.  He held them to her and she took the proffered items. 

    "Thank you," she said.  "Bend over, place your hands on the bed and don't move."

    He simply obeyed and Collette melted in desire.  He was obeying her every whim.  He positioned himself at her command knowing that it would lead to his pain and the fact aroused her. She watched him as he bent forward and leaned against the bed, his ass bared for the paddles he had delivered.  She climbed from the bed carrying the three items he had delivered into her arms and stood behind him, "tell me," she said, "what were you thinking when you were looking for these paddles?"

    She watched him swallow heavily.  When he spoke his voice was a hoarse whisper, "I..." he paused, grunted once and continued, "I wondered if it would hurt."

    "Go on."

    He continued, stammering occasionally, "I went into the kitchen, looking for anything that you could ...beat ...beat me with.  The first thing I saw was the meat tenderizer and I dismissed that by both the menacing way the large block looked as well as the disconcerting name."  He laughed nervously and continued, "I opened the drawer we keep the utensils in and found the wooden spoon.  It was small and I figured that it... it... it wouldn't hurt too bad."

    Collette purred.

    "I continued looking for anything that you could use, weighing items I found with my hands and imagining how painful it would be.  I found the flyswatter and remembered my mother spanking me with one when I was a child and I remembered that it didn't hurt too badly."  He paused moisten his dry lips, "finally I found the hairbrush and with the hollow feel to the back I figured that it wouldn't hurt too much."

    Collette moaned delightedly, "very good."

    He smiled at her nervously.  

    "Now," she said, "on the bed.  Face down."

    He obeyed.

    "Spread your legs," she commanded him.  

    Again he obeyed.

    Collette set the hairbrush and flyswatter on the bed and hefted the wooden spoon.  "Thank me," she commanded him.  With that she swung the spoon and struck his naked ass.  The retort was sharp in the room, echoing loudly.  Her body shook in ecstasy at the sound of his wet breath being drawn through clenched teeth.

    "One," he breathed, "thank you."

    "Mistress."  A simple word.

    "One.  Thank you, mistress," his acceptance spoke volumes.

    He counted each of the twenty-five strokes that Collette had given to his naked ass. She was dripping when she set the spoon down and picked up the brush.  "Count these as well," she breathed passionately.

    She spanked his ass another twenty-five times with the hair brush and by the time she finished her pussy was sopping and his ass was red.  He had tears in his eyes and his voice was strained as he finished counting, "twenty-five.  Thank you, mistress."

    "You're welcome," she said.  "Now, lay down on the bed, face up."

    He obeyed without hesitation.

    Collette picked up the flyswatter and said, "I'm going to spank your cock now." Her voice was throaty and full of passion, "I will only do five.  Try and take them all for me. Okay?"

    He nodded weakly.

    "Here we go."  With that she slapped his cock with the flyswatter. The blow was light but his reaction was amazing.  His hips lifted from the bed and his hands involuntarily flew towards his crotch to protect his penis.  His moan was deep and full of agony, low and mournful. Collette felt her body go weak at the sights and sounds of his pain and she shuddered.  "Can you handle another?" she barely squeaked out.

    He moaned and Collette purred.  He shook side to side and slowly, his breathing raspy and shallow gasps, like a fish floundering out of water.   His mouth opened and closed wordlessly.  He struggled to speak, want to say 'no more, please, no more."  He looked into her eyes and instead of saying 'no," he said, "yes."  

    "I love you."

    He looked at her.  His crotch was on fire, the pain radiating through his entire body.  He could see the passion in her eyes; could read the pleasure in her body as readily as he could feel the pain in his.  He struggled as he spoke, "thank you, mistress.  May I have another?"

    Her body shook as a small orgasm shook through her body.  The sound of his submission that countered the obvious desire of his body to run away screaming was music to her ears and her body responded.  She shook in pleasure and said, "yes," a pause as her pleasure climbed, "you can."  

    She struck his cock again.  He coiled up into a fetal ball, shaking slightly as the pain raced through his body.  "No more.  No more," he said, saliva dripping from his mouth.  His hands were trapped between his legs and he rocked painfully.  "No more," he croaked again.  

    She couldn't see his face as it was buried against his chest. "No more," Collette said tenderly.  "You did wonderfully."  Then, "thank you."

    He didn't hear her; he was trapped in a world of pain and gradually decreasing suffering.  His mouth was open and he could feel his own spit on his chest.  He knew he was speaking, but he was unconscious of the words that were spilling from his mouth.  Was he asking for mercy or begging for more?  He did not know and he wondered briefly if he wanted to.  If only I hadn't asked for another, he thought.

    If only.

* * * * * 

    The lobby of the hotel was well-lit and clean.  A large rug sat in the middle of a large room that was dominated by a large fireplace.  A fire was burning and the the sound crackled and shadows danced on the wall and floor of the room.  A long counter to her right was where customers of the hotel would check-in.  It was covered with flyers for the hotel chain and two potted plants rested on either end of the long counter.  It was unmanned, the employee hidden away behind a closed door that led into parts unknown.  

    Collette walked briskly past the counter and turned left into a short hallway.  She followed the large brown signs that read simply, "elevator."  She pressed the button the call the car and the door opened immediately with a single ding announcing the cars arrival.  She entered, spun around and pressed the number for the third floor.  

    She lowered her eyes, shook her head and whispered, "if only."  The past had been haunting her for years.  She had never been able to shake the memories that always appeared when she was not expecting them.  They snuck up on her like a kitten pouncing on unsuspecting toes of their owners, and they darted away nearly as quickly.  She was no longer surprised when the memories came and always saddened when they departed.  They reminded her of happier times and the melancholy that followed seemed to hover within her mind for days following the brief respite into the past.  

    The door opened, two dings followed, and Collette raised her head.

    Two separate signs pointed down opposite corridors.  Collette read the sign showing her which way to room 317 and she turned toward it.  The carpeting on the floor was plush and she bounced on it as she walked.  Small sconces lined the hallway, illuminating the walkway in a soft glow.  Her head shifted from side to side, scanning the room numbers until she found the room she was seeking.

    Collette pulled Mark's keycard from her purse and the light on the door flashed green and a loud click announced that the door was unlocked.  Collette entered the room and found the suitcase exactly where Mark had said it would be.  She looked around the room; at the bed, neatly made and the plane ticket showing Mark's return flight to Chicago two days hence.  She grabbed the tickets and put them in Mark's suitcase.

    Quickly she searched the room for anything that may have belonged to Mark.  She didn't find anything out of the ordinary.  Dropping the keycard on the bed, she grabbed the suitcase, and left the room.  Walking rapidly, her steps silent on the carpeted hallway, she returned to the elevator.

    And returning to her car, she was unmolested by any hotel employee.  Her visit to the hotel had gone unnoticed.