Frankie was surprised when Roy came home and said he'd seen Chisel, the schoolyard bully who had created such havoc in his life as a kid back in Philadelphia.
"It's amazing, Frankie" Roy was saying as they had dinner.
"Chisel's changed so much, he's a Buddhist now, and a probation officer as well."
Frankie cocked her head, and a blonde curl fell into her cleavage, and Roy took an intake of breath...every time he saw her, even after seven years of marriage, seemed like the first.
"Really? The guy who used to bully you? I would have thought he'd be on other side of the law. Didn't you tell me he used to take your lunch money and vandalize your car?"
Roy nodded.
Roy had been shocked when he'd ran into Chisel, walking through DC Superior Court with his fellow prosecutors, seeing the familiar big squarish head and beetle brows of Ernesto "Chisel" Fantucci. Ken, Roy's second chair for the O'Malley trial, had turned to him and said
"Roy, you're white as a sheet!" and Roy himself had felt the familiar dampness in his shorts.
He'd peed his pants just like he'd done in the old days whenever Chisel had grabbed Roy by the shirt and slammed him against a wall, before dragging the honor student into the locker room.
But fortunately, today Roy had been wearing dark pants and the urine stain hadn't shown .
Chisel had recognized Roy at the same time and come up and shaken Roy's hand- -and apologized!
"Dear, you were saying? The guy's not a criminal anymore? " Frankie asked.
He looks so white when talking about this guy, she thought.
"Well, Chisel went into the Marines and then got some therapy somewhere, and went to school, and now he's just a regular guy.
" But it couldn't be. Frankie knew her husband had some kinks, but didn't think he was a fag. Frankie reached over and stroked Roy's crimson cheeks.
. But Roy was like a child at times.
She wondered whether whatever happened had happened in a locker room, as Roy always changed his clothes at home or even in the car rather than change in the locker room of their country club, or in a changing room at any hotel.
Anywhere where there were other men, it seemed.
Today, of course Roy had to remind himself, things were different.
Elroy Myers, titular head of DC's Corporation Counsel, had had a coffee with Ernesto "Chisel" Fantucci, a lowly probation officer, and Chisel had said respectfully.
"Mr. Myers, you are a great guy, and I'm so sorry I behaved that way back then."
Roy had thought of telling Chisel that he could call Roy by his first name, but rather enjoyed the way "Mr. Myers" sounded in his old enemy's mouth.
"If there's anything I can do, Mr. Myers, please tell me."
Roy of course had been quite gracious and realized that now he, Roy was in much more of a power position. Those old days were over forever!
"Darling, don't you think about whatever it is that happened."
Frankie said to Roy tenderly. "It's over now and you and that awful man can be friendly, or you can just avoid him. But you're an adult, and a very important one."
Frankie stroked Roy's hair and tugged her sweater down a bit, further emphasizing her full cleavage, and Roy smiled, as she knew he would.
Roy prized Frankie over anything else in the world, it seemed.
He smiled at Frankie worshipfully.
"Tell you what, why don't we play one of our little games tonight."" Frankie said with adventurous eyes.
Roy smiled widely.
"Yes Miss Francesca."
Frankie's voice grew steely.
"Then I want you to clean up this table, the dining room and the entire kitchen, spotlessly, and I'll be in to check in twenty minutes."
Frankie slapped Roy lightly on the face and he looked at his plate ashamedly.
"Twenty minutes, Elroy.
And when I come to inspect, I want you naked and kneeling on the kitchen floor, with EVERYTHING SPOTLESS, as I said in twenty minutes."
Roy arose hurriedly and undressed, folding his clothes neatly on one of the dining room chairs.
As he cleared up the dining room, Roy thought gratefully of how wonderful Frankie had been in understanding his fantasies.
They'd started out during the engagement with Frankie giving Roy an occasional bare-bottom hairbrush spanking.
Roy could recall Frankie, who he had met as a young stripper being prosecuted for cocaine possession, walking into Roy's living room, her 40DD chest heaving in a snug sweater, ordering Roy to take down his pants.
Roy could still feel his naked penis itching as it was pressed against Frankie's scratchy tweed miniskirt as she slammed Mummy's old elephant-tusk hairbrush against his bare bottom, as Roy's legs tangled miserably in his bunched up trousers.
Frankie's boobs would press against Roy's back as the hairbrush fell again and again against Roy's miserably scarlet buttocks as hard or harder than Mummy had ever whipped him with the same brush!
Frankie laughed as she went to her bedroom to change into the black satin bra and panty set that always drove Roy so wild.
My God, sometimes she thought he was hotter for her in that outfit than when she was naked!
Not that she was naked around Elroy that much these days.
As Frankie attached the clasps together that connected her bra cups from the front, she breathed impetuously in the mirror, and watched her cleavage shake and bounce in the tiny black cups.
Yes he'd like this. And was Roy in for quite a night!
Roy of course thought that "spotless" just meant that he was to clear the table and wash the dinner things, but he had another think coming. Spotless was as Miss Francesca defined it.
And of course Roy would whine when Frankie began punishing him for the shoddy work he'd done-
Roy whined easily, and in a way she couldn't blame that guy Chisel for bullying Roy a little bit.
Frankie could imagine what a wuss Roy was in high school
This as even now Roy was such a nerd, he had his stamp collection and enjoyed things like putting together jigsaw puzzles.
Yes, unlike the chopper cycle building losers that Frankie had grown up around.
Yes, Roy was a bit of a whiner, but he'd given Frankie such a new life, helped her give up drugs and the stripping/prostitution lifestyle she'd been so accustomed to.
She should have more patience with her wimp, really.
Well, Frankie could take out some of her annoyance on Roy tonight.
After she'd adjusted her lingerie, Frankie pulled fishnet stockings on, applied eyeliner and bright red lip gloss, and painted her nails the color of blood.
What fun tonight would be!
Roy began washing dishes in the kitchen after having carefully wiped down he dining room and put up the chairs.
Frankie had really begun to enjoy the games more and more in their first year of marriage, after learning that Roy, the slave-boy would do as much housework as needed.
The first eighteen months of marriage, it had been a normal sex life, with occasional bondage evenings, that Roy really looked forward to.
He would be chased around the house naked in an apron with a feather duster, and Frankie menacing him from behind...
By their fourth year of marriage, Frankie and Roy had escalated to an entire weekend of mistress/slave activity.
This with Roy tucking Frankie in bed in the evenings and then going down to sleep on the basement floor.
Now, they occasionally played during the week, and Frankie's punishment implements had advanced way beyond hairbrushes and willow switches.
"Is this a game or not, Roy?"
Frankie had asked the week before as Roy sniveled that Miss Francesca had gone a little far and too hard on his buttocks with her cat o' nine tails.
Frankie had locked him in the closet that night and made loud moaning noises, playing with her vibrator.
"I don't let crybabies lick my pussy, Elroy!"
Roy had wept miserably, crouching naked under Frankie's fur coats in the boxy, hot little wardrobe.
Now Roy scrubbed all the pans as cleanly as he could, and made sure everything was looking pristine.
He knew better than to use the $15,000 dishwasher he'd bought Frankie for her birthday; during punishment sessions, slave Elroy had to wash everything himself.
She'd taught him this by turning the dishwasher on and sticking Roy's head in it.
Frankie took nearly forty minutes adjusting her makeup and putting up her hair but she still knew Roy wouldn't have been done cleaning.
Stepping into her high heels, Frankie picked up her bamboo cane and her Spencer paddle with all the lovely little holes in it.
Frankie then went to check on her husband in the kitchen.
She came upon Roy frantically wiping up the counter, stark naked, of course
When Roy saw Frankie, he immediately threw down the rag and dropped to his knees in front of her, staring at the floor.
"Why weren't you kneeling here already?"
Frankie looked at her watch and thwacked Roy's shoulders and back with the bamboo cane.
THWACK! THWACK!
The cane bent slapping on Roy's back and welts arose against Roy's pale, flabby skin.
"It's been forty fucking minutes you little faggot, I expected you to have this kitchen ship shape in about seventeen minutes.
Stick up your butt and put your face on the floor."
Roy stuck his rear in the air and pushed his face in the floor. Biting his lip, Roy awaited the onslaught.
Now, Frankie let loose with the Spencer paddle.
WHACK WHACK WHACK. Frankie loved the way the air sailed through the holes in the paddle as it landed on Roy's bright red buttocks.
Roy bit his wrist to keep from screaming, he knew that his sobbing would enrage Miss Francesca.
The wooden Spencer paddle was certainly painful, but he had to learn to take it better.
It was amazing, as titular head of DC's Corporation Counsel, Roy enjoyed the respect and fear that he tended to bring up in clients and defense attorneys.
Roy remembered the day he'd see in that tousled blond girl in that drug trial.
Roy hadn't prosecuted this one, he had just shown up to watch one of his former law school students handle the case.
The judge, who had worked with Roy in the past, had also greeted him with respect.
It had been quite a day, except that the defendant, this tousle haired druggie stripper, had smirked at Roy.
She'd giggled at him in the defense box and stuck out her tongue.
