As weeks passed into days, Alex and Kitty were riding the danger of their office romance-to keep above water in the undertow of disapproving coworkers and the constant risk of discovery. Despite fewer, farther-between stolen moments, their love remains fierce, a defiant flame that keeps burning bright even in the worst hardships. But Kitty concealed a secret, a black cloud over her life that was poised to consume her at any second. She had not told Alex about the meeting with Mr. Johnson for fear of only this: that if she left the burden, she would be stoking his fury and killing their bliss stone dead. She struggled to banish the memory to the recesses of her mind and reject its very existence. But the shame and terror lingered, an itching, bitter hurt in the stomach.
And that evening, when the sun dipped below the city, casting an unwholesome glow on everything, Kitty was once more alone with Mr. Johnson. He had called for her, his voice a low, threatening rumble down the telephone. She had tried to say no, to think of an excuse, but he had cut her off, his voice forbidding. And now, here in his office, the door closing behind her, she could feel the same tide of fear wash over her, the room shutting down, growing smaller.
Mr. Johnson went around her, his gaze dropping on her body in a sweeping look that caused her skin to prickle. "You see, Kitty," he began, his voice low and foreboding, "I've been very forbearing with you and Alex. More than forbearing. I have turned a blind eye when you kissed, your pathetic attempts at secret romance. But I think now that was an error."
Kitty didn't say anything, her eyes fixed on the ground, her fists clenched in each hand. She senses his breath on the nape of her neck, the heat of his body against her back. She mustn't take a step back, run and hide.
"Maybe it is time I reminded you who is in charge here," he continued, his tone a gentle whisper, lips against her ear. "Maybe it is time that I had to show you the price of disobedience to me."
Inside her chest, Kitty's heart was pounding, her mind racing wildly as she ran, tried to find an exit, an opening from his hold. But she was immobilized; her body screwed her up, not moving as he wrapped himself around her, hands on her hips, pulling her into him. She could feel the hardness of him against her back, his hot breath and stinking on her skin.
"Please, Mr. Johnson," she gasped. "Don't. You don't have to."
He laughed at her husky, copycat one; and with a mere look, sent shivers running down her flesh. "You should have thought of that before you ran around advertising your little tryst for everyone to see. Now, though, you will pay."
His hands moved everywhere over her body, as if availing themselves of their freedom to act without permission: squeezing, fondling, taking whatever he wanted. Kitty's eyes filled with tears to blur her vision as she struggled to block out what was happening. She could feel his teeth against the back of her neck - biting into her skin - his tongue tracing along her spine with a wet, sick trail.
"Such soft skin," he murmured his voice almost a growl. "Such a shame to mark it. But I will. I'll mark you as mine, Kitty. Everybody will know who you belong to."
His hands smoothed over her breasts, his fingers sliding over them roughly, his palms digging into her skin. Kitty panted in pain, her eyes screwed shut, tears running down her face. She could feel his cock, hard and unyielding, prodding into her ass, and she knew that if she didn't wriggle, he was going to take her, there and then, on his office floor.
With a burst of adrenaline, she shoved at him, turned from him, staggered from him, her body twisted with tears. Mr. Johnson rose and stood there, his smile sly and complacent, his eyes flashing with a corruption of lust.
"Run all you like, Kitty," he growled low and menacing. "But you can't keep hiding from me forever. And when I do catch you, I'll make you pay for this little trick."
A few days later, Mr. Johnson's overtures grew even more brazen. Kitty is pinned again in his office, the door closed behind them. He moves towards her and pushes her back against his desk. "You want this, Kitty," he whispered; his warm breath against the back of her neck. "Don't play coy with me."
Kitty's heart was pounding in her chest, her mind racing through and barely able to think of a way to get away. She was pushing at his chest with her hands, but he was too powerful. "Please, Mr. Johnson, " she tried to whimper. "Do not do this."
He listened not and his hands roamed over her body, pinching and gropping. Kitty was overwhelmed with sickness as he held her down on the desk, his body descending on top of her. She rolled her face to the side, her eyes furrowed closed, as he wrestled with the buckle on his belt. He pushed her to her knees, his hands in her hair, taking over her movements as he thrust himself into her mouth. Kitty held back the tears, her brain fogging over, as she went through the motions, her body tense and unyielding. She could taste the salt of her own tears, the bitter taste of his desire, as he used her mouth for his pleasures.
He seemed to take an eternity before shoving her away last, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his face. "There you are," he said to her, zipping himself back up into his zipper pants. "That wasn't so terrible, was it?"
Kitty said nothing, her frame shuddering as she sprang to her feet, smoothing her clothing, trying to erase the feel of his touch across her. She wanted to wash her mouth, to wash out the flavor from him, but she knew she couldn't. She mustn't. She had to leave. "I must go," she could whisper.
Mr. Johnson merely smiled, the right line on his lips, with the perfect right to have acted just as he did. Kitty ran out of the office, shaking the body, the mind seething with humiliation and disgust. Running, she felt a sense of trespass, a feeling of outraged anger against Mr. Johnson, and a growing resolve never again to let him touch her. But for the time being, she wanted to forget, lose herself in Alex's arms, soak in his love.
She did not know the horror had far from ended. The shadow of Mr. Johnson's threat loomed big, a huge black cloud on the horizon, ready to engulf her at any second. For when it did happen, she was going to have to bear all that flowed from it, not just for her sake but also for Alex' sake. For their love was a soft flower in the midst of thorns; so it would be insufficient only to be loving alone in order to ride out the storm coming down upon them.