Punishable Offenses

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Punishable Offenses Page 5

by Lizbeth Dusseau


  “Robbie, will you string her up?” he called to his friend while keeping his eyes trained on his girlfriend.

  Madeleine shivered as she watched her lover stride forward purposefully and attend to Zack’s wishes. The room was already set with a pair of chains dangling from the ceiling as they simply dropped from small trap doors that had been cleverly disguised in the ceiling mural. When they were no longer needed, they would pop back in place, unseen without close examination. How convenient!

  Seeing Robbie work with such willful intent had a curiously erotic effect on the waiting crowd of seven, and especially on Madeleine. Her stomach must have somersaulted a dozen times as he led the victim to the center of the room and attached her wrists cuffs to the dangling chains. Her regular cuffs had been exchanged for a pair that were especially suited for the scene. Not only were they secured to the chains with embedded ringbolts, there were extensions of the leather that allowed her to grab them with her hands. Once Robbie had Rachel in place he stood back as Zack moved forward, however, much to Madeleine’s surprise, the scene did not unfold as she expected.

  “Time for a little penance, slave,” Zack tersely bit off his words, while sneering at his waiting girlfriend. Her face recorded no emotion, but her eyes were darting back and forth from one man to the next, as if she too were uncertain exactly what would take place. Instead of proceeding to whip Rachel in his usual ruthless way, he turned to Robbie, announcing to Madeleine’s amazement:

  “She’s yours to use and abuse. Knowing my Rachel, if you hold back you’ll be doing the bitch a disservice.” He scowled again, then went back to where he stood before.

  A shaken Madeleine watched as her lover strode to Zack’s side and retrieved the whip. Several times, he cracked the leather against the steamy air, leaving the room bristling with expectation.

  Mary gasped and pressed her face into Elliot’s shoulder; Madeleine clamped her hand over her mouth; and the naked Carly stood at attention, unmoving, looking very much as if she was trying to disappear into the ethers so no one would notice she was there. Would she be next? was one of many questions left unanswered for the moment.

  The once stoic Rachel bristled too, her body tightening, her head bowed, tears glistening in her eyes—perhaps the first she’d ever seen from the woman. As awesome as the picture of the submission was, however, it was not where Madeleine’s eyes were trained. Her gaze would remain firmly fixed on Robbie throughout the entire scene.

  He seemed to swagger differently, with a forthrightness about him that was difficult to describe and difficult to watch. She could sense a fury behind his moves, behind his determined stride as he circled his victim, in the way his eyes were set and how his jaw had tightened. She thought of him redressing an old wound, though if this were true, she had no knowledge of what that might be. Still, the longer he paced about the woman, the more his ire seemed to swell, and the more his actions confirmed what she believed. Everything about him felt dark and threatening. This was not the Robbie she knew and loved.

  Even Rachel’s mood was different on this occasion, and nothing like what she was when anticipating a punishment from Zack. The quivering blonde could hardly take her eyes from his impatient stalking; her being seemed to reflect his peculiar mood. When, after a thorough stalking of his victim, Robbie began to lash the whip against her body, she let out an unearthly howl—not Rachel’s normally controlled behavior in these circumstances. Did he strike harder than Zack? Was there some special power behind the cutting blows? Or was there something more, something particular between the pair that sparked such a dreadful show? She couldn’t imagine Robbie being more frightening than Zack in his delivery of the punishment, but he was. The punishment play continued for nearly thirty minutes of torturous theatre. Hardly a soul moved, not a word was said, all eyes in the room focused on the scene—most on the petrified girl who danced madly with every blow that laid a streak of red on her milky flesh. Through it all, Madeleine’s gaze did not waver from Robbie. She tried to square her knowledge of him with what she saw before her, but none of this made sense. At one point she became so disturbed by the strange synchronicity between the pair that she almost panicked and ran from the room. She ended her flight before it started when she noticed that she’d have to walk past Zack in order to leave the room. She had no plans to tangle with that man and make a scene of her own, and so she stayed to the very end.

  The peculiar end was as odd as the scene itself. For a few seconds, Robbie moved to Rachel’s side and spoke in her ear a message Madeleine could not hear. Whatever he said made the bound woman flinch, and when he laid his palm against her left ass cheek and squeezed, she seized up, grimacing, tears trickling from her eyes. Then she finally bowed her head as Robbie moved away.

  On the way out the door, the single-mined Robbie motioned to Madeleine, like he was summoning his horse. She dutifully followed him from the room, the door closing behind them, but when he decided to take off to the stables, Madeleine chose to remain at the house. “Suit yourself,” he said, without emotion—his mind was obviously preoccupied with the events of the last half hour. He offered no further explanation about his whipping Rachel, so Madeleine was left to wonder exactly what had just taken place.

  In the kitchen later that day, she and Mary were preparing a tray of hors d’oeuvres for the cocktail hour, Mary mentioned in passing:

  “That was some scene, wasn’t it?”

  “You mean Robbie and Rachel?”

  “Who else?” she replied.

  “Yes, it was amazing,” Madeleine replied, realizing that she was still befuddled about the scene.

  “But then,” Mary’s eyebrows knitted in concentration, “she was owed that.”

  “Owed? Why would that be?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Obviously not?”

  “No. I guess you weren’t around then, were you? Couple years ago. Rachel used to be Robbie’s lover. It’s common knowledge that she took his virginity. But then she started playing around on him, until Zack stepped in. Boy, that was a scene you wouldn’t have wanted to see. Probably the reason why Elliot and I have chosen to stay clear of this crowd and their nasty house-parties. But, it’s seemed to work out well. Zack seems to be the only one who can make the woman behave herself. I can’t see that she’s worth the trouble. Must be damned good in bed. After the nasty break-up, Zack always said that Robbie could tie her up and make her suffer any time he wanted, but it’s been so long now, I’m surprised Robbie still cares. I mean, especially when he’s dating you.”

  “Well, who can know a man’s mind?” Madeleine came back, trying hard to sound unperturbed by the entire scene. All the while she felt as if someone had just stuck a knife in her gut—not Mary but Robbie. Her Robbie. Her Robbie keeping something this important from her. If a summer shower hadn’t suddenly burst from the sky with pelting rain and fierce winds, she would have taken off in search of him and demanded an explanation. Instead, she was left to sit by the window and wonder until he returned.

  An hour later, Robbie was dripping wet when he finally returned to the estate house through the kitchen door where he found Mary still in the kitchen thumbing through a cookbook. “Where’s Madeleine?”

  “I have no idea, maybe in your room,” she looked up only vaguely interested.

  “She didn’t say anything, did she?”

  “She says a lot of things, Rob, what in particular did you mean?”

  “About Rachel?”

  Mary shrugged, as she picked up the book and moved toward the study. “You might want to ask her yourself. That was some scene. Please tell me this is not going to repeat every time we join you at one of these parties.”

  “You know I can’t do that, Mary.” He was in as much a hurry to leave the kitchen as she was. “You’re just afraid it’ll be you next,” he said as if he really meant it, no joking in his voice this time. Though she might have been shaken by the comment, he didn’t wait to see her response or give her time to
reply. He took the backstairs to his guest suite on the second floor.

  Robbie found Madeleine in the bedroom reading a book—or at least trying to read; she was barely able to concentrate. She looked up when Robbie entered and stared into his eyes. It was difficult to see if his menacing mood had eased off.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about you and Rachel?” Madeleine finally spoke. She made every effort to remain composed, but there was little doubt that her raw emotions were still roiling under her calm demeanor.

  Robbie shrugged as if he didn’t care, saying simply, “I didn’t think it was important.” Despite the fact that he’d quickly zeroed in on his girlfriend once he returned from a vigorous and soaking horseback ride, he left her still wondering exactly what had happened in the billiard room.

  “Well, at least someone decided it was important that I knew.”

  “What? You sound angry.”

  “And I should be. Unless you’ve been messing with me all this time, there’s something important between us, and you don’t even bother to clue me in when you take a whip in hand and flog the daylights out of the woman. I could see the way you looked at her.”

  “You sound jealous.”

  “Jealous? No. Totally confused, yes. You expect me to see something like that and not have an emotional response, not wonder what the hell is going on?”

  His face darkened at that comment, and now he looked very much like the man who’d earlier strode from the billiard room while beckoning her to follow, the same remote expression dominated his face. The same coldness ruled his behavior.

  “I don’t even know you now, Robbie.” She looked at him sincerely and he looked back, for a long while appearing unperturbed by what she said. But then as the minutes ticked by he began to connect with her, with the look of worry, confusion and mistrust written on her face. Her lovely figure loomed large before him, and soon his emotions stung him in the heart where the ache for her that initiated their relationship resided.

  “I’m sorry.” He let out a weary sigh. “I should have said something, I know. But I was lost in the past. A bad place to be, but it was finally time to get things off my chest. Hurting Rachel like that had always been in my thoughts. I can’t count how many times Zack encouraged me—you know he’s not one to hold anything back. He doesn’t do grudges. You know how he says, ‘he’ll whip a bitchy broad first and decide later if it was justified.’

  “No, I haven’t heard him say that but that sounds just like him. And I’m very glad you’re not like that.”

  “But there is that side of me. You saw it today. Maybe it was a good thing that it came on unexpectedly—but I swear, it was not planned.”

  “No?”

  “No. Honest. Zack just suddenly turned her over to me. Sure, we talked about it once but not recently…then he hands me the whip… and I saw the same woman who used me and threw me away like a toy…it all came back like a bad nightmare, stirred up the worst in me.”

  He stared at his girlfriend wanting her to say something, but what could she say? This conversation was as astounding as the scene earlier.

  “Now you know that I’m not always a nice guy. Not inside. The big smile, the fun-loving me, sometimes it’s just an act.” He shrugged like this shouldn’t be big news, but it was news to Madeleine. He saw that in her befuddled expression and his own turned anxious in seconds. “Oh, but not with you… never with you, Maddy. I love you. You’ve never hurt me, used me, cheated on me, I know that.”

  “You’d better know that.”

  “I do. This was about Rachel and me, nothing else. It’s over now. Done. Never again. I swear to you.”

  She wanted to believe him, and while she couldn’t imagine him going after Rachel again, what about that dark side of his personality? Would that go back to where it had come from, curl up like a sleeping bear and stay put? Was that even reasonable to assume?

  Likely not. But what more could be said? This was dangerous territory for her—too close to her strange fixation for rough sex play and sexual domination. If she kept up the probing questions, she might end up confessing the darkness in her own psyche, and she was not ready to do that. She might never be.

  ***

  A year later…

  It had been a rough week, too much work, too many hassles with the Endowment to put Madeleine in the mood to party with Robbie and his friends.

  In two years their relationship had taken on a degree of normalcy like any good relationship might. On the good side, there were fewer house parties in the country—a positive change from Madeleine’s point of view. They had a way of making her uncomfortably edgy, bringing up the dark fantasies she’d just as soon forget. Zack would never stop demonstrating his ownership of Rachel and Rachel would never stop earning every nasty whipping she received.

  Madeleine wondered if the parties had lost some of their importance for Robbie after the scene with Rachel. Perhaps he’d just been waiting to wreak his revenge and once he did, he no longer needed that scene anymore—not when he had Madeleine in bed for the sex he loved.

  On the bad side—which was really not so bad—the dreamy days of being in love were no longer as seamless as they once had been. A few arguments, a few irritable battles developed when Robbie insisted on getting his way. Sometimes Madeleine just needed time to herself, a few days on her own, maybe a night with her old friends who she rarely saw anymore. Robbie didn’t like to share her, but he did give in, eventually. While the hubris of wealth and youth still triumphed, sometimes the power of a determined woman could trump even that.

  Their biggest row so far began the day Robbie announced they’d being going to the McKellar country house for the weekend. “The old crowd will be there,” he added in the next breath, which was when Madeleine objected. It had been nearly ten months since they’d been to one of the parties and she had no desire for one now.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll pass on this one.”

  “What do you mean ‘pass’?”

  “You know, pass, as in not go, stay home and get some rest.”

  “This is rest. Why do you think the rich have country homes but to get away from the city, the grime, the nasty air, the cloying people?”

  Cloying people? Who exactly would that be? she wondered silently.

  Robbie went on, “You want to roll in the misery here or get some fresh air, sunshine and a little good old-fashioned fun?” He was only mildly charming, which should have been the first sign of real trouble.

  “Trust me, I won’t be much fun as tired as I am.”

  “But, Maddy, that is the point! Don’t you get it?” He was practically in her face—something he rarely did. Something she never liked. “You go to the country to unwind, or do I have to spell it out for you?”

  She stepped back.

  “Why are you being so…so…”

  “So, what?”

  “So aggressive about my going with you. Can’t we spend one weekend apart?”

  “Is that what you want…to be free of me?”

  “Don’t you dare go getting ideas like that, damn you!”

  His eyes flashed. Hers flashed back. He was about to sputter on, but she stormed off to her bedroom and slammed the door.

  They had kept separate apartments since they started dating, even though they spent nearly every night together. Although Robbie’s apartment was much larger, they almost always stayed at hers because it was clean and generally tidy. His was not.

  The slammed door meant that he’d wait in the living room for Madeleine to calm down and come out apologizing, but he was too steamed to stay. Slamming the front door on the way out so she was certain to hear, he went back to his apartment two miles away and fumed the rest of the night.

  The next day at work, the two barely saw each other until afternoon, and what communication they had was frosty. When Madeleine finally popped her head in his office door, she saw Robbie staring out the window obviously deep in thought.

  “Hey, I’m sorry I got so
pissed last night,” she said. “I was tired. I’m tired now and I’m going to be tired on the weekend, but if it matters so much to you, I’ll go.”

  It took a long time before he swiveled around in his chair and looked at her, and when he did, there was that signature Robbie McKellar smile beaming from his handsome face, not a wrinkle to suggest there was any more rancor between them. His sunny disposition had apparently returned.

  “You know you are a gem,” he said.

  “You really think that?” Her mood had lightened too.

  “You know I do. I was pissy too. This stuff with my dad… you know how it goes…” He shook his head in disgust.

  “Yes, I know how it goes,” she sighed. His father was always leaning on him to quit the Endowment and take his job with McKellar Corp. He laid the guilt on thick as molasses. It would ooze through him for weeks until he finally dispelled all but a few lingering traces. Charities were for females and sissies—that was his implication. After all the beating around the bush, this was what it finally came down to. Regardless, Robbie resisted, and Madeleine could do nothing but support his decision. She was rather proud that he’d taken such a firm stance in face of the continuing pressure.

  “We’ll just go, Robbie. Make the best of it. Maybe you’re right. Maybe the country is what we both need.” She candidly hated every word she said, she wasn’t even sure she sounded convincing, but he seemed to buy her change of heart and the war between them ended there.

  ***

  Though Madeleine reluctantly agreed to the weekend, it was difficult to hide her lack of enthusiasm. She said little on the trip, though for that matter, Robbie seemed preoccupied himself. Was this just a remnant from their earlier battle, or was it a sign of something deeper? Was their relationship going down that predictable path of terse accommodations and frosty silences?

 

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