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"I never thought anything like this would
ever happen to me," he said. "I never thought I'd be in a lawyer's
office even once, and I've been here three times now. And absolutely nothing's
been accomplished. I've always hated lawyers." He looked as though
he expected me to take offense.
"A lot of people do," I said.
"It was either that or I would've shot those
miserable blankety-blanks next door and I'd have to get a lawyer to defend
me anyway. You know the story?"
I did. He was suing his neighbors because they
had a dog that "barked all goddamn day." I listened to him talk.
It surprised me how this short conversation quickly restored my sensibility.
Everything seemed perfectly normal by the time the lawyer came out of
his office to greet the client. I noticed he had my letter in one hand.
Just before he turned to lead the client away, he handed it to me, smiling.
"Good letter," he said.
When I went home that night, everything was the
same. My life had not been disarranged by the event except for a slight
increase in the distance between me and my family. My behind was not even
red when I looked at it in the bathroom mirror.
But when I got into bed and thought about the
thing, I got excited. I was more excited, in fact, than I had ever been
in my life. That didn't surprise me, either.
I felt a numbness; I felt again that I could never have a normal conversation
with anyone again. I masturbated slowly, to put off the climax as long
as I could. But there was no climax, even though I tried for a long time.
Then I couldn't sleep.
It happened twice more in the next week and a
half. The following week, when I made a typing mistake, he didn't spank
me. Instead, he told me to bend over his desk, looking at the typing mistake
and repeat "I am stupid" for several minutes.
Our relationship didn't change otherwise. He was still brisk and friendly
in the morning. And, because he seemed so sure of himself, I could not
help but react to him as if he were the same domineering but affable boss.
He did not, however, ever invite me to discuss my problems with him again.
I began to have recurring dreams about him. In
one, the most frequent, I walked with him in a field of bright red poppies.
The day was brilliant and warm. We were smiling at each other, and there
was a tremendous sense of release and goodwill between us. He looked at
me and said, "I understand you now, Debby." Then we held hands.
There was one time I felt disturbed about what
was happening at the office. It was just before dinner, and my father
was upset about something that had happened to him at work. I could hear
him yelling in the living room while my mother tried to comfort him. He
yelled, "I'd rather work in a circus! In one of those things where
you put your head through a hole and people pay to throw garbage at you!"
"No circus has that anymore," said my
mother. "Stop it, Shep."
By the time I went down to eat dinner, everything
was as usual. I looked at my father and felt a sickening sensation of
love nailed to contempt and panic.
The last time I made a typing error and the lawyer
summoned me to his office, two unusual things occurred. The first was
that after he finished spanking me he told me to pull up my skirt. Fear
hooked my stomach and pulled it toward my chest. I turned my head and
tried to look at him.
"You're not worried that I'm going to rape
you, are you?" he said. "Don't. I'm not interested in that,
not in the least. Pull up your skirt."
I turned my head away from him. I thought, I don't
have do this. I can stop right now. I can straighten up and walk out.
But I didn't. I pulled up my skirt.
"Pull down your pantyhose and underwear."
A finger of nausea poked my stomach.
"I told you I'm not going to fuck you. Do
what I say."
The skin on my face and throat was hot, but my
fingertips were cold on my legs as I pulled down my underwear and panty
hose. The letter before me became distorted beyond recognition. I thought
I might faint or vomit, but I didn't. I was held up by a feeling of dizzying
suspension, like the one I have in dreams where I can fly, but only if
I get into some weird position.
At first he didn't seem to be doing anything.
Then I became aware of a small frenzy of expended energy behind me. I
had an impression of a vicious little animal frantically burrowing dirt
with its tiny claws and teeth. My hips were sprayed with hot sticky muck.
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