Sweet Discipline (4 page)

Come to think of it, the only real interaction she’d felt was with Angela, who’d giggled and talked to her like a person, not a child to be chastised for getting into the cookies. Or as something subhuman.

“Discipline takes many forms,” Adrian said, reinforcing her growing perception of him as a coldhearted machine. “Mental, physical, emotional. Any method I choose will fit the infraction and you will accept and learn from it. Do you understand me?”

She hesitated. If she said yes, she’d be giving him permission to do…what? If she refused, what?

“Maybe I’d do better with another trainer after all,” she suggested. She gave him a polite, hopeful smile. “Maybe you could switch with someone else? Man or woman.

Even if they aren’t the best?”

“Trainers are assigned according to a client’s profile.” He glanced at the clipboard in his hand. “Based on your answers on our questionnaire and your actions since you arrived here, you are temperamental and willful. You need me.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

He eyed her from head to foot. She was immediately aware of every ounce of fat, every bulge, every droop of her body. His gaze settled on her face. “Any trainer could 20

Sweet Discipline

work you through the physical part of our program. The mental and emotional part is harder. With your history, you need a firm hand.”

“I’m not a child!”

“True. You’re an adult and it’s going to be harder to retrain yourself.” He paused.

“Your answer?”

She answered his question with one of her own. “How do you know so much about me?”

He paused, making her wonder if he’d answer. At last, he said, “We do our homework.”

For an answer it lacked something and left much more to the imagination. What did they do, spy on her? The thought left a bilious taste in her mouth.

“I’m still waiting.”

“I’m still thinking.” Stay or leave and try another spa, another trainer?

No matter that she’s just counseled herself to stay and get her money’s worth, she could still walk out. Admit defeat. The image of Kendra’s sleek body and smug look flashed through her mind. If Kenny could do it, so could she. After all, this man, this machine, would only be a part of her program. She could put up with whatever he dished out while she focused on the rest of the activities here. “Okay. All right.”

He nodded. “First, you will learn respect. When you are with me, unless I tell you otherwise, you will kneel to me.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re out of your freaking mind!” This was a health spa, not some kinky club. When his expression didn’t change, she knew he was serious. “What’s kneeling got to do with losing weight?”

He blew out a breath. “Norris, I am going to say this only once. Our methods at
Sweet Discipline
are effective. Any of our clients will vouch for that.” He spoke patiently, as if correcting a fractious child. “Any instruction I give is to help you achieve your goals. You are here to lose weight. You want your life to be more fulfilling, more pleasurable, more successful. Right?” He paused, as if giving her a chance to disagree.

She seethed at his reasonable tone, but couldn’t argue with what he said. She imagined the awe on people’s faces when she returned to work, skinny, sexy and successful. She imagined the impressed looks on her client’s faces when she made a presentation. She imagined surprise changing into desire in Jack Rodriguez’s eyes.

“I have never failed a client. I won’t fail you.”

She didn’t like him but she believed him. After all, a place like this wouldn’t attract any business if the clients weren’t happy with the results. It was the same in her business. If his interpersonal skills ranked a minus ten, she could force herself to put up with them. The methods might be unusual, but all she was interested in was the final product. All she wanted from him was results. She blew out a breath and nodded.

“Very well. No more questions?”

“Not at the moment.”

21

Bonnie Hamre

“I’ll tell you whatever you need to know as we go along. Now, on your knees.” His voice was inflexible.

Slowly, joints creaking, she lowered herself to the floor. “Ouch.”

“Sit back on your haunches.” When she did that, he added, “Now, place your hands palm up on your thighs. No, don’t curl your fingers. Leave them open.”

She flicked a glance up at him.

“You will keep you head lowered, eyes on the floor unless I give you permission to look at me.”

This was too much. “Now, just a minute here—”

“You will not speak until I tell you to,” he said harshly. “And when I speak to you, I want an immediate response. Understood?”

She blinked but lowered her eyes.

“Better. You are wondering why all this is necessary.” She nodded. “Changing your usual positions opens your mind to change. Leaving your hands open signifies acceptance of change.” He waited while she absorbed the concept. “To learn a new habit, you must get rid of the old one. To become a new person, the old person must go.

Or, better put, pieces of the old person must go.”

She could agree with that. There was a lot of her she wanted gone. His methods might sound crazy, but he’d promised he wouldn’t fail her.

“Now, I have some questions. You will answer fully and truthfully.”

All right, she’d expected to go into detail about her eating habits. The questionnaire had been long, very explicit, but there was always more to explain. She’d expected a disparaging look when she confessed her addiction to bread and butter, but on her aching knees, she wouldn’t have to see his face. Maybe it would be easier this way.

“Okay.”

“Your name is Norris Aileen Brownell. You are thirty-two years old, a self-employed consultant. You specialize in human resource issues. You are unmarried though you were engaged once. He left you when you preferred your career to him.”

He paused to consult another page. “Still, you must have felt something for him since you suffered from depression for months. In consequence, you gained weight. You lost it while you were starting your business, and then gained more. What does that tell you?”

“How do you know all that?” she demanded.

He didn’t answer, though it was increasingly obvious someone had done a thorough job researching her. “You are,” he referred to the measurements Angela had taken. “Five foot seven,” he glanced at her groin, “a natural brunette, and currently you are thirty-two pounds above preferred weight. Hmm, a pound per year.”

He flipped a page. “You’re generous to your friends, ambitious, creative in your recommendations. You are hard-working and generous with your associates. You support several charities and give them both time and money.” He nodded 22

Sweet Discipline

approvingly. “You are also stubborn, like your comforts and are in need of personal direction.”

He studied her face. “You’re a complex woman, Norris. Many-sided, and some of them contradictory. Your family and friends have warm feelings for you, yet you have a smart mouth and a temper that gets the better of you. Outside this building, you are regarded with professional and personal respect.”

Warmth flooded through her. Her shoulders straightened.

“Inside these walls, however, you are nothing. Nothing until you empower the inner woman, the one who can control herself and her destiny.”

Warmth fled. Now resentment and anger warred inside her. “But—”

“I have not given you permission to speak.”

She bit her lip to hold back her exasperation. She heard him turn a page, then another. “You don’t exercise. You indulge yourself with food and alcohol. Given the choice of walking or taking a cab, you ride. In fact, you’re quoted as saying walk is a four letter word.” He studied her, as if cataloging her physical imperfections. “There is no suggestion that you use drugs.”

“I don’t. Never have.”

“A point in your favor. However, you are lazy, indolent and disrespectful of your body.”

She was really beginning to hate that deep voice detailing her flaws. What would he do if the positions were reversed, if he were down on the floor with his knees breaking and she stood above him reciting his faults? Taking comfort from the image of him cringing as she blasted his autocratic manner, his lack of personality, his coldness, she couldn’t hide a smile.

“Something amuses you?”

She was silent.

“You may answer me.”

Still, she said nothing.

“Very well. Your first deliberate act of disobedience.”

She glanced up at him, letting him see her grin.

“And second.” He stood. “You may rise. Come.”

He walked to the door without looking to see if she followed him. It was only when she was two steps down the hall that she remembered she was nude. Too late now, but she walked more quickly.

He opened the door to her suite and once they were both inside her suite, he locked it.

That made her nervous. “Leave that door open.”

Ignoring her, he crossed to the closed interior door, took a key from his pocket and unlocked it. He went in, flipped on the lights, turned and waited for her.

23

Bonnie Hamre

Uneasily, glancing at her bedroom, which belatedly she realized had no door, she moved toward him with apprehensive steps.

He waited, saying nothing. She saw a large armoire on one of the padded walls and exercise apparatus like those she’d find in any upscale gym. A cycle, weight bench, treadmill, several machines and bits of equipment she couldn’t identify but made her stomach hurt. There was also a metal bar stretching above her head from one wall to the other, a comfortable looking chair and an exercise mat on the floor. If all the client rooms were fitted out with individual exercise rooms and top-of-the-line equipment, no wonder the fees were so steep. She knew she’d be spending a lot of time in here. Ugh.

He gestured her to the middle of the room, then locked this door, too. How come he got keys and she didn’t? The meaning suggested to her did nothing to ease her mind.

She waited, discomfiture coiling in her as without a word, he went to the armoire, opened a drawer and brought out a pair of black cuffs.

This was outrageous! He could only mean to use them on her. She’d never been into the kinky stuff, bondage or domination. As he started toward her, she darted for the door. He was on her in an instant, grabbing her hands and in a flash, subduing her frantic efforts to pull away, he had the soft leather cuffs locked around her wrists. She cried out as he secured both wrists together.

She tried to twist free. She kicked out, landing a glancing blow on his shin. He grimaced, but said nothing. She elbowed him, but he sucked in his gut and her elbow bounced off tight muscles. She cursed.

Ignoring her words, he stretched out a hand and brought the hanging bar down. He unraveled a chain wrapped about the middle portion, secured it to the ring on the cuffs and raised the bar until she was on tiptoe.

She couldn’t believe it!

He’d tethered her to the bar.

24

Sweet Discipline

Norris gaped at him, mouth open, panting in surprise. He fixed the bar so that no matter how she tugged, she couldn’t lower it. Wide-eyed, she watched him return to the open drawer and return with something black.

“Take these things off,” she demanded and yanked at her chain.

He flicked her a glance. He didn’t say a word.

She edged away from him as he moved to stand behind her. She kicked back at him, but standing on tiptoe didn’t give her any leverage. He held her by the neck with one hand as he drew a smooth black leather hood over her head. She twisted her head this way and that, but that didn’t slow him down as he tucked her hair out of the way and tied the drawstrings at the back of her head until the mask was secure. It covered her head and eyes, leaving only her nose and mouth clear. “Wait until the Better Business Bureau hears about this! And the cops!”

He stepped back, not even breathing hard while she panted as though she’d run a mile. “I’m sure they’ll be very interested.” He didn’t sound worried.

She heard him pull the chair closer. He sat. Some nerve. Sitting comfortably while she hung like a Thanksgiving turkey!

“You’re setting a new record, Norris. Very few clients reach this point within hours of arrival.”

She grunted and tried to ease her shoulders. What did he mean
very few clients
? Was this standard procedure? Was this what Kenny meant about the first few days being hard?

“When you’re calm and ready, we will start over.”

“I’ll scream! What will other clients think?”

“Suit yourself.” He spoke calmly. “Though it might interest you to know that all the treatment rooms are soundproofed.”

“Soundproofed?” she echoed, her voice rising in disbelief. “How can you get away with this?”

She heard tapping and thought he must be tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. Maybe he wasn’t as cool as she’d thought, not if he was giving in to a nervous gesture. Maybe there was a human being under that austere exterior.

“Let’s get something straight here.” He paused, waiting until she stopped trying to free herself. “Everything we do here is with our client’s permission and cooperation.

You signed the contract, giving us that permission. The cooperation is up to you.”

“I never expected or agreed to this!”

25

Bonnie Hamre

“But you do expect to lose the weight and leave here looking like you want to look.”

She said nothing.

“So now it’s up to you. If you want to leave, just say so. I’ll unhook you. You can get dressed and walk out the door. No one will stop you.”

The only thing stopping her was her pride. How could she face Kendra after boasting she could stick with this diet spa? She’d have to admit she’d left within hours of arrival. Couldn’t even last a day! Worse still, how could she face her staff or her clients?

“What’s it going to be?”

“I didn’t come here to be abused!”

“You recall the clauses about submitting to discipline?”

“But not this! This is abuse.”