I was stunned--absolutely speechless. My lips were moving, but no sounds were coming out of my mouth. I sat frozen in the chair, unable to move, my eyes wide as saucers with total disbelief, as my girlfriend, Luanna, stood up from the couch, opened her jeans and slid them and her panties down to her knees and displayed her bruised, purple buttocks to her old high school friend, Pat.
The strange woman I'd never met before, gasped loudly, and asked indignantly, "When did he do this to you?"
"L-Last night," Luanna answered with a sniffle.
"Why? Why would he hurt you like this?" asked Pat with a growing rage.
"He said he wanted to 'spice-up' our love-life--that he always wanted to spank a woman but never had the nerve to ask before," said my girlfriend. Then she quickly added, "...and no, he couldn't just use his hand--no, he wanted to use his leather belt on me!"
"OH MY GOD--WHAT A LITTLE PERV!" yelled Pat as she whipped her head around and glared directly at me.
I could feel the daggers her eyeballs were throwing at me. A cold shiver of fear raced-up my spine. Pat is a formidable woman, slightly taller than me, and a good fifty-pounds heavier, and the way she clenched and unclenched her fists made me worry she wanted to take revenge on me--maybe even beat the hell out of me...and I knew she could do it, too!
"No-no-no--I didn't spank her that hard--it only lasted, like, two-minutes...it was all in good fun--we wanted to try something new in bed...she agreed--she said I could do it!" I excitedly said defending myself.
"Luanna, dear, did YOU have FUN? Did you enjoy being belt-whipped by this little perv?" the woman asked my girlfriend.
Luanna began to pull up her clothing before she answered, but Pat stopped her.
"Honey, stay like you are--I want to take some pictures of what he did to you!" she said to my girlfriend, and immediately brought out her cell phone and snapped three quick photos of Lu's horrifically bruised buttocks.
Truth be told, I didn't think I spanked her that hard, and it definitely didn't last very long. She must be one of those people that bruises easily. I wasn't aware of that.
Pat abruptly stood, and menacingly came at me.
I flinched in self-protection. "Get over there, little perv--I want you kneeling next to Luanna!" she said in a threatening voice.
I momentarily froze, but the crazy look in her eyes told me she meant business, and there was no telling what she'd do to me if I didn't obey her command.
My face was next to my girlfriend's butt and when I saw her bruises close-up they looked far worse than from across the room.
"Oh God, Lu, I'm sorry--I didn't mean to hurt you--I just wanted to try something new...can you ever forgive me?" I asked in sorrowful voice.
I became aware of the scary redhead snapping photos of my face beside the purple bruises.
This isn't good, I told myself.
"Is that the belt you used to beat my best friend?" the large woman asked pointing to the belt around my slacks.
"Well, uh, I--"
IS THAT THE BELT?" she shouted.
"YES...yes, it is...I'm sorry...it won't happen again!" I said with conviction.
"You can bet your scrawny ass it won't happen again! Take it off and hold it up next to her!" she said.
I hesitated too long. She screamed, "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ENGLISH, BOY--I SAID 'TAKE IT OFF'!"
At times like this I hated being who I am. I avoid confrontations at all costs. They make me nervous, and unsure of myself. My mind goes blank--I cannot find the words to adequately defend myself. My body trembles and shakes. I hate being the fearful little man that I sometimes can be.
My fingers were trembling so much I had difficulty opening my belt. Finally, I managed to unfasten it then slide it thru the belt loops of my slacks. I did as I was told, and held it up next to my girlfriends bruised and battered buttocks.
And while the imposing redhead snapped more photos, I thought of my father...how he had raised me and my brother and sister with an authoritarian iron-fist--he made sure we never developed any self-esteem--to the outside world he was all bluster and bravado, but deep down we all knew he was a con-artist and bully--we saw thru his 'act'--he was simply a scared, and insecure little man and I hated I had inherited those traits from him.
"Lu, honey, I've got enough pictures for now, go ahead and pull up your pants!" the woman said to my girlfriend.
I was getting to my feet when she shouted, "DID I SAY YOU COULD STAND, PERV? STAY ON YOUR KNEES!"
The anger inside me was growing. Yes, I had conned my girlfriend into letting me spank her, and yes, the bruises look terrible...but the way this woman was treating me was way over the top...but I just couldn't bring myself to express my outrage.
"Luanna, dear, my glass is empty, and fix yourself a drink, too, okay?" the woman said to my girlfriend.
"Good idea--I can use another one!" she replied and grabbed Pat's wine glass then went to the kitchen and re-filled it then poured herself another strong vodka and tonic.
When they both settled into their seats, Pat asked Luanna, "How did you hook-up with this little twerp? Better yet, WHY did you choose this loser?"
That was it--I couldn't stay silent any longer. "Hey, wait a minute Pat--I'm not--"
"QUIET, BOY--WOMEN ARE TALKING!" she screamed at me.
Her bulging eyes and the tenseness in her arms and shoulders made my heart jump into my throat. I became afraid she would physically hurt me. I decided it would be better to let my girlfriend explain our relationship...she'll clear things up for her friend.
"You know, Patty," she said from the kitchen, "...he seemed like a good idea at the time!"
Huh? What does she mean by that? I wondered.
She patted my head on her way by me before she sat down, and said, "Just look at how pretty and cute he is--I wanted him the moment I saw him...too bad you can't judge a book by its cover!"
Uh-oh, another insult...she's getting drunk, and from my experience, there's no telling what she'll say now.
"Well, you know, the first two-weeks I worked at the bar he was on vacation, and all I heard from the manager was 'We're short-handed, I can't wait for John to get back'...I asked about him and everyone--especially the female customers, all praised him as the best bartender in the place, and damn cute, too...and as it turned out, he was a far better bartender than anyone I worked with..."
Okay, I thought, that sounds pretty good.
"It was funny when he returned to work," she continued, "...when I ordered drinks from the other bartenders, I tell them a drink then wait a few seconds to tell them the next one--that was the only way they could keep up...well, the first time I did that with John, he gave me the most beautiful smile and said, 'Contrary to popular belief, I'm not mentally challenged--give me your order faster and list them in order."
"List them in order?" asked Pat.
"Yes, this is the first cocktail serving job I've ever had, and didn't know there was a specific order to calling out drinks--none of the other bartenders said a word to me!" she explained. "I would order drinks in the order I received them...like, bloody mary then a whiskey then a beer then another whiskey then another vodka drink then another beer...when I did that to John I noticed he was just staring at me...when I was done he said, 'I like all liquors together--all vodka drinks together-all whiskey drinks together and so on...then tell me any soft drinks or juices, and then tell me how many of each beer you need'..."