“If you don’t take off the towel, I will ask Ethan to come and remove it from you.”
I swallow. I know she means it. I unwrap the towel and drop it to the floor.
The doctor is still working on unpacking his things or at least he has the courtesy not to look up, but she looks me up and down, up and down.
“Turn.”
I do.
“Not a mark on you.”
“All the Willow Girls have perfect, beautiful skin,” I taunt, turning back to face her, because I think I understand at least some of her hate for me. For all the Willow Girls.
But she grins. “Makes it that much more gratifying to mark an unscarred, arrogant whore.” She points to the bed. “Lie down and open your legs.”
“I’ve already had my exam, and Sebastian said this was for birth control.” But then again, he already betrayed me, didn’t he?
But is it betrayal when he is my enemy? No, not at all. His behavior is in keeping with his role.
“I need to be sure you’re not diseased. He should have taken one of your sisters. I don’t like the idea of my sons fucking a used Willow whore.”
“It’s not necessary. I’m clean.”
I’ve had sex exactly once for the sole purpose of ripping through that membrane. And look where it got me.
“Ethan.”
She doesn’t even look away and, as if he were standing right outside, Ethan appears in the doorway. I can’t scoop up the towel fast enough.
“Help her,” she tells him.
Sebastian is punishing me. This is what I get for standing up to him. This is all a part of that breaking.
“No.” I keep the towel around me but sit on the bed. “He can go. I’ll do it.” Lying back to prove my point.
“Open the towel,” she instructs.
I’d kept it wrapped around me.
Looking up at the ceiling, I open it.
“Now open your legs.”
“Ethan can leave. I’ll do it.”
“You’ll do it regardless.”
Ethan steps to the foot of the bed. I guess he wants a front-row seat.
I glance once at his mother and know it’s pointless to ask again, and I won’t beg. I open my legs. The doctor says something to Mrs. Scafoni in Italian, and she kindly translates.
“Pull your knees up.”
I do. And I’m wholly exposed to them, and all I can do is lie there and stare up at the ceiling and fist the bedsheets as the doctor conducts his examination, the instruments he pushes inside me cold, his old fingers poking me and just when I think we’re done, he’s given another instruction I don’t understand, not until I watch him smear lubricant onto his thickest finger and poke at my other hole and when I tighten up, it’s Ethan who speaks.
“It’s easier to take something up your ass when you’re relaxed,” he says. “And what I’m going to put in there will be much thicker than the doctor’s finger.”
Is this part of Sebastian’s punishment? This utter humiliation, this being taken down about a hundred notches?
My face burns as the doctor pushes his finger inside me. I don’t understand the point, but there isn’t one. It’s to humiliate me, that’s all. And he does. And when he’s done, I’m given a shot. The birth control, I guess.
When it’s over, he stands and takes off his gloves. Mrs. Scafoni approaches and, her eyes on me, has a discussion in Italian with the doctor. A moment later, the same girl who rolled in the cart returns and rolls it out. I reach for the towel.
“Roll over onto your stomach.”
I glance from her to Ethan, who is grinning, his hand on the erection evident through his jeans. I swear he’s not right.
“Why?”
“Ethan.”
She doesn’t even entertain my question, and I roll onto my stomach before he can lay his hands on me.
A second later, before I can process the whooshing sound, a line of fire burns across my ass, has me gasping, jumping from the bed.
But Ethan pounces, and I’m desperately covering myself as he roughly grabs hold of me, dragging me back down.
“You’re owed three more for your refusal to do as you’re told,” Lucinda informs me. “He can hold you down, and I’ll double it, or you can submit on your own and take the three. Decide.”
“What refusal? I did what you said!”
“That’s another strike. Ethan.”
I shake my head, but I know Lucinda won’t give me another chance. She likes this too much, and Ethan too, and I watch, helpless, as two cuffs, attached to the headboard, are exposed.
“No!”
But he, like his brother, is too strong, and my arms are bound and I’m on my belly and he takes hold of my ankles and has me stretched tight.
“Eight more since I’m doubling. Next time, you’ll know to submit immediately.”
And with that, I receive the first caning of my life, because that’s what the stick she’s holding is. A fucking cane.