Chloe's Conundrum
Chloe's Conundrum
Chapter One
by Kristin
Copyright Ó 2006
Note: This is not a complete story. For the entire story, please join our website here.
“Stop kicking, young lady,” Tony DeMarco, owner of Disciplined Fitness, ordered the petite blonde squirming and writhing over his lap. “I mean it, Chloe. You’re in enough trouble as it is. Do you really want to add more fuel to this fire?”
“I can’t help it,” Chloe ground out as a thick, wooden paddle visited the base of her right bottom cheek for what felt like the thousandth time. “Please, Tony…you’re spanking too hard. I can’t take it!”
“You said that the last time, but obviously I didn’t spank you hard enough to get the point across.” With precision that testified to years of practice, the muscular man brought the paddle down again. A last moment snap of his wrist added extra “sizzle” to the raging fire he had so carefully stoked. “You can be darned sure I’m going to make a thorough job of it this time. Now just what,” he asked, the paddle emphasizing his words, “has gotten—into—you? And stop—kicking—me!”
Blonde hair flew as Chloe shook her head. “I don’t know!” There was anger in her voice, but it was the hint of desperation that got Tony’s attention. “Damn it, Tony! You try lying still while someone blisters your butt! It’s not as easy as it looks!”
Tony took a deep breath, carefully checking his surprise at Chloe’s language. No one was allowed to curse in his gym. It was one of the few rules that could get a young lady pulled aside, even in the middle of her exercise routine, for a serious paddling. DeMarco rarely had to enforce that rule, but when he did, he made sure it was a memorable lesson for the offender. He’d never once had to repeat the process—until now. The fact that Chloe Myers, his first client and wife of his best friend, had broken the rule twice in one evening told him that something was very wrong. Setting the paddle aside, he carefully maneuvered the squirming woman so that her legs were scissored between his.
“I’m going to give you one more chance,” he told her as she struggled to escape his grip. “You know perfectly well that I don’t tolerate that kind of language from anyone. Tell me what’s wrong, Chloe, or I swear I’ll give Ben a call and discuss your attitude with him.”
“Go ahead.” Chloe’s nonchalance took her personal trainer by surprise. “He was still at work when I left the house, and he probably hasn’t left yet. Even if you manage to get through to him, it’s not like he’ll care.”
“What?” Tony paused, laid the paddle lightly against his client’s reddened bottom. “What are you talking about? Ben loves you, Chloe. Of course he’d care.”
“No, he won’t.” Chloe tried valiantly to keep the tears out of her voice, but she couldn’t disguise her anxiety. “Obviously, you haven’t talked to him in a while. Or you’re covering for him. Is that it, Tony? Is this one of those secrets of the brotherhood sort of things? Are you just telling me what he wants me to hear?” Sarcasm crept into her tone. “Or are you honestly too dumb to see what’s going on?”
Tony allowed his paddle to provide an answer to what he considered a ludicrous question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’d best find a more respectful way to say whatever’s on your mind, young lady.” He picked up the pace of the spanking and, alternating from one bottom cheek to the other, thoroughly scalded his client’s backside.
Chloe struggled mightily, but there was no escaping Tony’s powerful grasp. She gasped and fought for air until a volley of spanks halfway down her thighs wrung an inarticulate cry from her lips. Then she was sobbing, hard enough that Tony feared she would make herself sick. Setting the paddle aside, he did something unusual. Rather than sending her directly to the stair climber in the corner, Tony rubbed his friend’s back and gently coaxed her into sharing her burden.
“Tell me what’s up,” he commanded softly. “I swear, Chloe, I don’t know what’s going on between you and Ben, but I would like to help. Talk to me…huh?”
Chloe nodded weakly, as though every ounce of her energy was suddenly spent. “Please,” she whispered between gasping sobs, “could I sit up? My head is pounding.”
“Sure.”
Tony carefully righted his client and, standing her on her feet, led her to his office. Her bottom was absolutely blazing, the deep scarlet flesh framed by the thong back of her gym suit, and he didn’t feel right making her sit on one of the gym benches while they talked. Apparently, whatever was going on with Ben had affected her attitude. He couldn’t regret spanking her—he’d only given her what was necessary to get her calmed down—but he wasn’t about to cause her any unnecessary pain when she was so obviously upset.
“Here.” Having settled her on the sofa, Tony disappeared just long enough to pull a couple of bottles of water from the refrigerator in his apartment. “Take your time. We can talk whenever you’re ready.”
Taking a handful of tissues from a nearby box, the well-spanked woman attempted to dry her tears. How could she possibly talk to Tony DeMarco, her husband’s best friend, about her fears? What if he went to Ben?
“It’s just this stupid Labor Day picnic that Ben’s got planned. He’s invited practically the entire office, and some really important clients, and I’m supposed to be the perfect hostess.”
Aside from one skeptical raised eyebrow, Tony remained impassive. “Try again.”
“What do you mean, try again?” Chloe looked as though she might fly apart at any moment. “Tony, my husband’s gone all the time these days…and when he’s home, he’s too exhausted and grouchy to be bothered with his family.
And now, on the last holiday weekend of the summer, he’s bringing business home with him and expecting me to make things perfect. Look at me, Tony. I’m a mess! I feel like I’m holding on by a thread as it is. How am I supposed to manage everything for a party this size, along with the kids and the bills and…?” Chloe swiped at the tears that spilled over to run down her cheeks. “I can’t do it. I just can’t.”
“I can understand that you’re feeling ignored and probably taken advantage of,” Tony said, his tone soothing, “but I can’t help but wonder what you’re not telling me. Come on, Chloe. Spill it. What else is going on?”
Chloe’s gaze slid away from her trainer’s stern expression. “That’s all there is. Really. I’m just overwhelmed.”
Tony shook his head and, moving one of the office chairs closer to the sofa, took a seat facing his friend. “I could spank you for lying—.”
“No!” Chloe’s stomach rolled, and she shook her head violently. “Please don’t spank me any more, Tony. I’ve had enough.”
Fully aware that she’d walked into a trap, she could do nothing but nod her assent. “This isn’t something you can spank out of me,” she whispered, not daring to look at the muscular man whose size dwarfed her own. “Please, Tony—.” Tears traced their way down her face. “It’s just something I have to figure out on my own.”
Sighing heavily, Tony moved his chair back to its rightful place. “If you don’t want to tell me what’s going on,” he said, “I guess there’s nothing I can really do for you, young lady.”
A slight incline of his head provided the dismissal Chloe had been waiting for. She scrambled up from the couch and, without a backward glance, fled to the locker room. The moment she was alone, her hands found and rubbed her red and swollen bottom cheeks. She hadn’t been spanked in a long time, and was surprised at how much it hurt. She hadn’t realized that her experience-toughened backside could return to the soft, ultra-sensitive skin she’d had before regular spankings became a part of her life.
It wasn’t until she’d sobbed her way through a shower and was standing in the center of the gym, bag in hand, that Chloe realized how foolish she had been. Tony was so much more than her husband’s friend. They’d been working together for several years now, and he’d seen her through more personal crises than she cared to remember. In all the time she’d known him, he had never divulged any of the things she told him in confidence, and he’d certainly never given her any reason to question his integrity. Squaring her shoulders, she returned to the office to find him bouncing a walnut-sized rubber ball off of a smooth plastic target on the wall behind his desk.
The rhythmic whop-bounce-catch, whop-bounce-catch indicated that he was deep in thought. Chloe wrapped lightly on the door frame to get her friend’s attention.
“I think Ben is having an affair,” she told the back of his chair.
“What?” Tony swiveled around, disbelief written in his expression. “Ben would never do that, sweetheart. He loves you.”
“Maybe he loved me once.” Chloe fought to keep her tears under control. “But now he just seems to resent me. I’m not smart enough. I don’t get enough done around the house. He wants me to take care of all the finances, not bother him with any details, but he complains about every decision I make. Everything I do and say is wrong.” Her voice became a thin, barely audible thread of sound. “I’m wrong.”
“Whoa…slow down, kiddo.” Tony left his desk to guide Chloe to the sofa, insisting that she sit down. “Look at me,” he directed. When she didn’t move, he gently slid a finger beneath her chin and forced her gaze to his. “I want you to take some deep breaths now. Remember the relaxation techniques I taught you a while back?”
“Y-yes.” She forced air into her lungs.
“That’s it.” Tony took his friend’s hands and gently massaged until she relaxed her tightly clenched fists.
“You don’t believe me.” It was the first thing she said when she was finally able to speak. “I knew this was a mistake. Just forget what I said. Okay, Tony? I’m probably just being neurotic. Please, let’s just pretend this never happened.”
Tony exhaled slowly. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just that I can’t see Ben cheating on you. But,” he added, “I don’t live with the two of you. Maybe if you told me how you’ve come to that conclusion, I’d understand better. Would you do that?” He squeezed his friend’s fingers in gentle reassurance.
Tony pulled a chair close to couch and sat down. “I won’t tell Ben that we talked about this,” he promised.
“Okay.” Despite her throbbing backside, Chloe settled into the couch cushions. “He works late all the time. And when he comes home he’s just — he’s not himself.”
“And every time I call him after hours, I either get his machine or his new secretary, Paula.”
“She’s after my husband, Tony. She’s all of 27, has the body of a supermodel, and she’s become very territorial where Ben’s concerned. Any time she answers the phone, she tells me he’s too busy to talk to me, and she’ll give him a message. But she doesn’t give him the messages. Either that, or he’s really choosing not to call me back.”
Tony’s brow furrowed as he turned that information over in his mind. “Did you talk to him about it?”
“Yes, but he just shrugged it off, like it was nothing. He says she probably just forgets because she’s so busy keeping the office running, and that I should make allowances because she’s the best secretary he’s ever had.”
“Because…I know this is going to sound stupid, but I just know what she’s up to. That little co-ed sees Ben as her step-ladder to the top, and she doesn’t care who she hurts on the way up.”
“Okay. I get why you don’t trust her, and for what it’s worth, I believe you. I think women see things in other women that men totally miss. But that doesn’t explain why you don’t trust Ben.”
Chloe scrubbed at her burning eyes in order to hold back the tears that threatened. “He’s just not himself, Tony. He yells at the kids and complains about everything I do and say. All I can think is that he’s hiding something, and I’m afraid that pretty little girl is the something in question.”
Tony sat quietly, mulling over Chloe’s tearful admission. “I suppose the picnic is upsetting because she’ll be there?”
“Yes. And I’ll be balancing trays and trying to keep a hundred balls in the air while she fawns all over my husband. I don’t want her there, Tony, but what can I do? Ben’s in such a foul mood these days that I don’t dare ask him to un-invite her. And if he’s not having an affair, I wouldn’t want to hurt him or our relationship by letting him know what I’ve been thinking. But darn it, I don’t want that woman in my home!”
“Okay.” Tony nodded. “I tell you what. You invite me to that picnic, and I’ll keep an eye on this woman for you. Maybe it will be a little more bearable if you have a buffer…someone to take her attention off of Ben?”
“I’ll do it for you, and for Ben,” Tony said. “I’ve never known two people who were more perfect for one another. I don’t want anything to happen to hurt your marriage. And if I see what you’re seeing, then I can talk to Ben — man to man — and maybe that will open his eyes. What do you think?”
Chloe wiped the last of her tears away. “It’s worth a shot,” she said. “Consider yourself invited.”
“Gee, thanks.” Tony’s grin faded to a sober expression as Chloe got up to leave. “Now I want you to do me a favor. Okay?”
“I want you to give Ben the benefit of the doubt for now. I’m sure you know what you’re talking about when it comes to this Paula, but I know my best friend. I’m guessing that he just doesn’t realize what’s going on.”
Chloe took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay, Tony. I won’t assume that Ben’s guilty. I just hope that you’re right.”
“Me, too,” Tony said to himself as Chloe turned and, moving gingerly, left the gym.
Labor Day morning dawned hot and bright, but the sun did not rouse Chloe Myers. Ben squinted as a shaft of light pierced the mini blinds. Rolling over, he was surprised to find Chloe’s side of the bed was not only empty, but had clearly been that way all night. There were no mussed sheets, no sign that her head had touched the pillow. Concerned, he rolled out of bed and padded downstairs in search of his wife.
He found her in the kitchen, cutting carrots into sticks, her eyes bloodshot and her limbs so obviously leaden that he wondered how she remained on her feet. She wore the same faded jeans and red t-shirt that he’d hoped to strip from her body last night. Clearly, she hadn’t slept.
“Chloe! What on earth are you doing?” Ben’s gaze took in the sheet cakes cooling on twin baking racks, the intricately frosted, flag-shaped sugar cookies and the mini croissants, each carefully cut in half and waiting to be filled with ham and cheese or his wife’s amazing homemade chicken salad. The stack of pots and pans in the sink told him that he’d find bowls of potato and macaroni salad in the refrigerator, as well, and two massive relish trays were nearly complete, save the carrots that she was working on. “Have you been up all night?”
Chloe jumped, looked up guiltily as her husband crossed the kitchen to take the knife from her hand. She didn’t realize she’d cut herself until he jerked several paper towels from the roll and pressed them to her left palm to slow the flow of blood.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “I know how important this picnic is to you, and I want to make sure it goes smoothly.”
Ben led Chloe to the sink, turned on the cold water and pulled the paper towels away from her bleeding hand. “And you think things will go smoothly if you’re about to topple over? Or if we spend half the day in the emergency room, getting you stitched up?”
Chloe pulled her hand away from her husband. “I don’t need stitches,” she said. Brushing past him, she rifled through one of the cupboards until she located a box of bandages. She pulled one of the large-sized strips from the box, peeled slick white paper away to reveal the sticky side, and quickly covered the cut with a “Blues Clues” plastic strip.
“There.” She held up her hand for her husband to see. “All better. Now let me finish this stuff and then I’ll get you some breakfast.”
“Oh, no you won’t.” Exasperated, Ben brushed dark blonde hair off of his forehead. The motion accentuated the frown lines between his eyes. “You, young lady, are going straight to bed. And you’re damn lucky I have so much to do. Otherwise, you’d be over my knee, getting the paddling of your life.”
Tears filled Chloe’s eyes. “Why are you mad at me?” she asked. “I was just trying to make this idiotic picnic a success. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She blinked hard in order to keep the tears from falling. “I guess Paula was right. I should have let her take care of the arrangements. God knows I can’t possibly run this thing to your satisfaction.”
“Shit, Chloe. Don’t start that again.” Ben pinned her with a hard, unwavering gaze. “Paula’s a good secretary and I’m sure she was just trying to help when she made that suggestion. She certainly didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, and I don’t know why you’ve picked today of all days to be so freaking sensitive.”
Chloe opened her mouth, intending to tell Ben exactly what she thought of his precious secretary, but the look on his face silenced her. She shook her head, and instead of continuing the argument, fled to the sanctuary of the master bedroom.
Ben stood in the kitchen, not sure whether to go after his wife or give her some privacy. She obviously needed a spanking, but there was so much to do and time was always an issue. Looking around at the messy kitchen, he decided to let her behavior slide. She was obviously exhausted, and he didn’t want to be too hard on her when she was only trying to make his business picnic a success. He poured a glass of juice, cut two dozen carrots into sticks and started the clean-up.
Chloe curled up on the bed she normally shared with her husband, and waited for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that he hadn’t followed her. After a time, she drifted off to sleep, the knowledge that Ben didn’t have time for her a cold, stone weight on her heart.
Ben woke his wife at 4:00. The guests were scheduled to arrive at 5:30, and he knew she’d want plenty of time to get ready. As far as he was concerned, she fussed entirely too much over her appearance, but that was Chloe. She liked to look nice, particularly when she was nervous or feeling unsure of herself. Tonight was most certainly going to be one of those nights.
“Come on, honey,” she said as he shook her shoulder. “It’s time to get up.”
Chloe stirred, blinked to clear her vision and rolled over to look at the clock. “Shit!” She sat up fast, and then paused for several seconds until the black curtain over her vision cleared and she was once again able to see.
“Why did you let me sleep so long?” she demanded of her husband.
“You were tired.” Ben had meant to maintain a good mood, but his wife was certainly making it difficult to be nice. “I thought it best to let you sleep as long as possible.”
“But the kids,” Chloe exclaimed. “I need to get them to Mrs. Wilson’s house —.”
“Done,” Ben told her.
“Okay.” Chloe said. “But what about the food? I have the sandwiches to finish, and the cakes to frost. And I haven’t even been to the store for ice cream and sodas.”
“Also done,” Ben said. “We have three flavors of ice cream and five different types of soda. There’s also beer — low cal and high test — and wine coolers for those who prefer something fruity. Oh, and Paula’s working on the daiquiri mix right now.”
“What?” Chloe could not believe her ears. “Paula is here? You brought that woman into my house, my kitchen, while I was sleeping?”
Ben stiffened and, leaving his seat at the edge of the bed, told Chloe, “I’ve had enough of your jealousy, young lady. Paula called and offered her help, and I took her up on the offer. It’s as simple as that.”
“Simple.” Chloe held the word in her mouth, tasted it. Tony had asked her to give Ben the benefit of the doubt, but her husband couldn’t possibly be that stupid. Could he? She wanted to scream, to rant and rage and throw things and tear the little witch’s hair out, but how could she?
“I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. She scooted over and got out of bed on the far side, so as to avoid contact with Ben. “I’ll go get my shower — that is if you still want me at the party. But if you’d be more comfortable with Paula playing hostess —.”
Ben’s green eyes darkened with anger. “She’s here to help, Chloe…to make things easier for you. Now go get ready.”
Chloe looked away from her husband’s angry expression. She had given up on talking out the issues between them. It wasn’t worth the fight any more. And besides, nothing would change. If Ben was having an affair, there was nothing she could do to stop him. The only question left was whether or not she could bear to live with the man who’d become a stranger to her.
Without another word, Chloe walked into the bathroom and shut the door.
To Be Continued...
