Disclaimer: I'm only doing this for fun. If I owned Harry and Co. I'd be richer than the Queen.
"Come."
I turned towards the voice and gave a slight, inaudible sigh. This was the voice that I had longed to hear for the last three months of my life, yet still I could not move. I could not breathe. I lowered my head as a reminder of my submission.
"Come."
This time I stood, knowing from his tone that I would do as I was told or risk punishment. I took one look at the seemingly stern expression and ran into his waiting arms. He pushed me away and held me at a distance and briefly looked me over. Moments later, a hand sped towards me, striking me across the face. In a move of defiance I chose to look directly into his eyes, not expecting what I saw. There was no anger, no sadness or fury in his eyes. Just pure unadulterated disappointment, the presence and intensity of which, forced me to lower my head once again.
"I'm sorry sir." I whispered.
"What?"
I repeated myself, with tears in my eyes. "I said that I was sorry."
I felt smooth, firm fingers grasp my chin and lift my head so that I was inclined to meet his gaze. "What are you sorry for?"
"I'm sorry for being wasteful with the money that was entrusted to me."
Silence.
Finally, he heaved a sigh. "Why?"
Again there was no discernible emotion in his voice, not even a meager hint of amusement just… disappointment.
"I- I don't know. I was lonely and thought I could comfort myself in your absence." Here, I faltered, unsure of how to continue.
"Go on." he said, encouragingly.
Although that I was still to be punished, I gained the strength and confidence to continue.
"I took the money that was given to me and I went out with the other girls to the opening of a nightclub." I thought back to that night. It was an evening of cold, exquisitely torturous wonders that I'd witnessed. The pulsating lights, fast-paced music, gyrating bodies, freely flowing drinks... and the sex-saturated atmosphere
His grip on my chin clenched tighter, almost bruising.
"I see."
Still he showed no visible sign of emotion, simply the growing disappointment that I had come to know intimately in the time that had passed. With my admission went all that we'd built together: the laughter, the tears, the passion and even anger that we had shared. All that was left in its wake were the remnants of antiquated reason. Then he spoke, his voice cold and detached "The relationship that we had and the years that we've spent together? Did this all mean so little to you that you would throw it all away? For what? A single night of 'comfort'?"
He took one last look at me and shook his head, mournfully. He turned, opened the door and left, closing the door with an ominous bang.
In that instant every ounce of resolve that I possessed evaporated.
A single tear fell to the floor , thunderous in the silence that prevailed.
There's the first chapter. I'm thinking of writing up to nine more chapters if my readers like this enough.