ng quirt. "You are not thinking of _me. _ You are doing this
for _ME! _" He learned to think only of her as he masturbated, or, less
often, as she worked him with her hand. When he dedicated himself
completely, she counted him to orgasm at the perfect moment; she was
pleased; there was no whipping.

They went out to dinner several times, a normal experience--at least
externally. Beneath the conversation, Oliver was well aware of what was
coming after dessert. She would encourage him to be assertive and then
she would pull him back, reminding him of his place with a glance or a
small smile, a good natured cat and mouse game.

She told him about the two older brothers who had bullied her on the
basketball court. She was a power forward in high school but too small
for the team at the University of New Hampshire. "Same game, different
scale," she said. "I should have been a guard." Oliver was impressed.
She had trained to be a referee and still reffed high school games.

"You just like the uniform," he teased. "The black shoes."

"You'd like one of them on the back of your neck," she said. "I know
you, Oliver." He was rewarded that night.

Late one afternoon, toward the end of June, Jacky called. "I need you
to come over," she said and hung up. This was unusual; their meetings
were always planned in advance.

"Oh, oh, Verdi. She's not happy."

Things were going well for a change. The Wetlands Conservancy had asked
him to recommend and install an accounting system. They'd gotten a
generous donation, Jennifer told him, from a bank. "Did you know that
Jacky Chapelle is on the Board?"

"I didn't," he said, surprised.

Jacky smiled when he asked her about it. "Community money," she said.

"Small community," Oliver said.

"Keep it in the family," she laughed.

The marinas were filled with white boats. Bikers and pedestrians were
crossing the bridge in both directions. Oliver parked in Jacky's
driveway. "Hi, Bubbles," he said. That was a mistake.

"I've had a disappointing day."

"I'm sorry," he said instantly. Her eyes narrowed and she pointed to
the bedroom.

"Everything off."

He undressed quickly and knelt by the bed. She gave him the rubber ball
and handcuffed him. "Bastards," she said and swung the ruler. Oliver
groaned for her. He had learned to wait out the initial blows. When she
hit faster, she didn't hit as hard. It seemed that groaning sped her up.

"Don't bullshit me, Goddamn it!" What? She crack