Later that evening, after nearly three bottles of wine, an amorous Daniel was kissing her mouth and stripping away her clothes with very little protest from the inebriated Madeleine. Having no intention of being excluded, the horny Michael was suddenly at her back with avid hands caressing her rear and poking fingers between her legs. By the time the last of her clothes were stripped way, the trio was headed toward the bed, where Daniel flopped down on his back, and Madeleine crawled forward to take her lover’s prick into her mouth. She lovingly circled the head with her tongue, enjoying the taste of his body and the warm feral scent, then she sucked the rising organ until it was ready to ride. When she climbed up further on his body, she straddled his hips and sat down on his groin, feeling his erection pulsing inside her wet pussy. For a while she danced on his hips feeling the joyful inebriation through every vein of her body, until Daniel finally pulled her forward into his chest and began kissing her face. She had almost forgotten the other man in the room, but he was not about to be left out. Just as the fucking between the two was starting to get more vigorous, Maddy felt a pair of probing fingers begin to ease into her ass.
She sat up shocked. “Ohmygod!”
“Hey, pretty girl, nothing to fear,” Michael told her. “I’ll be gentle.”
She had to assume that Daniel set this up and she would surrender, which meant that her first double-penetration occurred just minutes later when Michael slipped his long erection into her ass while Daniel was working her pussy with his. There’d been no time to object, and if she had, it would have done no good. Soon the torrid feelings in her body began to climb and her worries fell away.
She moaned crazily, her body taken over by forces over which she had no control. Her mind was zoning out—too much wine, maybe—or maybe just too much pleasure overwhelming her senses. She drank in the feral fragrance of both men; the redolence of their bodies blending with the scent of her own pheromones almost made her mad with want. She began to come, moving as wildly as her lovers. No one particularly cared what was happening to the others in their trio; they were each moving in the direction of their selfish satisfaction. The explosive clash of men banging away inside Madeleine’s surrendering body went on for nearly an hour until all three finally fell away in exhaustion.
Before she’d come back to her senses, she heard Daniel call to his wasted submissive:
“Clean us up.”
She instinctively obeyed the order, first cleaning Daniel’s wet cock, then moving on the earthy smelling prick of the man who’d been inside her ass. This first time for such a nasty act went down better than she might have anticipated, but she was still so drunk on wine and pleasure that feelings of disgust and panic and, for once, even shame, just couldn’t take hold.
They fucked again sometime after midnight in a much more subdued way—although she took the double-penetration one more time with little effort—and this time she wasn’t even drunk. Because Madeleine had to work the following day, the two men slipped from the bedroom after they were finished and let Madeleine sleep the rest of the night while they stayed up talking for several hours.
In the morning, a bright sun blinded her eyes when Madeleine woke—it was still early and she could have gone back to sleep, but when she started to stretch like a lazy cat against Daniel’s sleeping body, she realized how sore she was from making love. Memories of the night returned and when she rose to go to the bathroom she half expected to see Michael sacked out on the couch. When she spotted the empty couch, she breathed a sigh of relief.
For a long while she stared around the loft hugging her naked body with her own arms with a feeling of dread creeping back into her mind.
“So, what’s Maddy feeling this morning?” Daniel’s voice climbed inside her thoughts.
She turned. “I didn’t hear you get up.”
“Nor did I hear you.”
“But you’re awake.”
“I am. And you still haven’t answered my question.” If things seemed a little stilted between them, it was because she still was unclear about what happened the previous night. She knew she’d made love to two men, but how that actually took place was a little fuzzy. And now a terrible but all too familiar feeling of disgust rose up inside her and wiped away any pleasing feelings that might remain. This scenario of shame was growing painfully old.
“What am I feeling?” She looked at him wanting to brush off this new adventure in infidelity, but that was impossible to do. “I’m feeling bad, very bad, if you want to know the truth. Like last night was really way way out of bounds. Not that it wasn’t fucking hot, but now we’ve knocked the shame thing into a whole new dimension.”
“Maddy, you had a great time,” he looked at her annoyed. “Why ruin it now?”
She shrugged. “It’s how I am, Daniel. I can’t help it. I’m fine with everything we do most of the time, but I can already feel that sorry self of mine clawing at me.”
“Like how?” He was leaning against the doorjamb in a pair of pajama pants looking about as sexy as she’d ever seen him. Must have been the morning light, the tousled hair, the firmness in his solid presence. Then there was the question he raised, which would not go away.
Giving herself a little time, she moved to the couch and sat down, staring at the messy coffee table with its empty bottles of wine and stale food. The memories of her raucous night of sex quickly surfaced, and she finally looked up.
“You know what I think about? I think about punishment, getting it cold and cruel and so demeaning that I finally get so low inside myself that I stare that thing in the face and know exactly what it is.”
“What thing are you talking about?”
“The thing that makes me feel so worthless. The thing that drove me to you, that needs to be punished. I keep thinking that maybe I’d understand it if I could look it in the eye.”
“And that would be your answer?”
“I would hope so. But I really don’t know. The punishment would have to be something extraordinary, not your usual caning or a hot paddling on my behind…even crawling your hardwood floor or being locked in that miserable closet wouldn’t be enough. Although I can’t imagine what would be enough for me to understand what drive’s my shame.”
She looked at him for answers, while he gazed back at her, so remote from her now that she shivered from the chill.
“You know, Maddy, this is one I won’t do.” He shook his head in disgust. “I don’t even want to.”
He might as well have shot her in the gut. “What’s that mean?”
“I’ve had enough of your demands for the heavy punishment.”
“You have?” She looked totally baffled.
“I have. Sure, I like whaling on your pretty rear. I even love making it black and blue from time to time—my own demons, but it’s time you went a little deeper and found out why you can’t let go of the guilt.”
“It’s about Robbie, Daniel!” she blurted out. She really wanted to scream. Her head hurt just thinking about it.
“Yes, but it’s more than that. You said it yourself. If you think punishment is the answer, then I suppose that’s what you need to do.”
“But you say you can’t do it.”
“I won’t do it.”
“Then if you’re not up for the job—” She was sounding almost bitter now.
“I know someone who might be. And aren’t you lucky, he just happens to live about twenty miles from here.”
She heard what he said, and when the words sunk in, everything inside her trembled. “You’ll give me to someone else?”
“For this one thing, yes. I’ve already arranged it for tomorrow night.”
She stared at him astonished: “But—I thought we were going to the theatre?”
“I canceled.”
“You already had this planned?”
“I have it planned now…although it was in the works a couple weeks ago. You have a choice. You don’t have to go, but if you don’t, you’d better plan on spendin
g some long hours getting your answers some other way, because I’m not going to punish you again until this matter is resolved. I mean that. It’s been eating away at me for a while now. It’s either this solution, or you come up with one of your own, but we will not go on like this, we might not even be lovers if you don’t find some resolution to what’s been troubling you all these years.”
***
The old house several miles south of Half Moon Bay was barely visible through the fog when they drove up to the mysterious stone edifice. All the way from the city—in fact since Daniel had announced the plan—Madeleine could feel her anxiety build until it seemed to be pounding inside her brain. While she was dreadfully afraid, her arousal gnawed at her in fresh new ways. Who was this man Daniel was taking her to see? What would he do? How much would she hurt? Most importantly, would the punishment work, or would it leave her with the same nagging questions about her tortured psyche?
When Daniel finally stopped the car, she was shaking so badly that she could barely move.
“Go on, Maddy. You have nothing to fear from him. I know him well.” She was almost in tears as she exited the car.
Nothing to fear. As if she could actually believe that considering that this man, this stranger she’d been sent to see, would take her spiraling into the great unknown of her troubled psyche.
She quickly moved down a flight of stone steps to a landing overlooking the ocean, then through a door with a quaintly rounded top that made it look like a hobbit house from the outside—although it was nothing like that sort of cheery dwelling on the inside. Candles, incense, murky shadows bathed the spaces before her with a rich and arcane amber glow. She felt as if she were entering a 10th century chapel, an underground lair, a Middle Eastern brothel. Her senses came alive, her fear amplified, but so did the physical thrill of this terrifying experiment. She’d spent the last twelve hours getting used to the idea of being taken down to the elemental level of her being by a man she’d never met. Though she would never get used to the idea, it seemed to be the only way to hang on to the man she loved. But was it even conceivable to think that the truth that had evaded her for so many years would finally reveal itself? Her mind was spinning, her control quickly vanishing. The bizarre affair was happening so fast that she was shaking uncontrollably, she could barely move forward, and there was no Daniel to lean on.
He’d told her to crawl once she was inside the chamber, which lead to the question, how would she know the chamber when she saw it? He answered with, ‘Oh, you’ll know’.
And he was right. From the relatively open entry way, she almost felt like Alice falling into the rabbit hole when she reached the second doorway in the strange house. It was there where she took to her knees and crawled forward when she heard a voice before her say: “Come in, Madeleine.”
To say that she expected some wizened old man to appear before her was an understatement. Her visions were almost unearthly, and yet what greeted her was someone very different than her imaginings. The man was a little older than Daniel, wearing jeans and a sloppy sweater that reminded her very much of one that Daniel often wore when he was working. Grey-haired. Trimmed bread. Dark eyes under thick brows. They were cruel and his demeanor utterly cold, as remote as Daniel on his darkest days. He sat on a stool working on what appeared to be a metal sculpture, and swiveled around as she approached.
“In here, come close,” he said when she hesitated to move forward. She was on her knees now feeling like a lowly beast.
He shook his head as she crawled closer, a look of disgust in his grim expression. “I always get the tough cases, and the tough cases are always the most unlikely females. The ones you’d think should have their submissive inclinations locked down.” He gazed down at her almost spitefully. “Daniel says you want to get punished like you never have before. Is that right?”
“I guess so.”
“You guess?”
“No, I know… I…know what I need,” she stumbled over her words.
“I doubt that. If you did, you wouldn’t be here. But punishing women, getting to the heart of their angst is something I’m very good at. Now get up and get naked.”
By then, she was anxious to get on with whatever the man would do, even though she was scared to death, worse than the first times with Daniel. She’d come to trust that no matter how hard her lover punished her, she’d come out okay. This time, she wasn’t sure. There was no Daniel to fall back on, he’d left her at the top of the hill, pointing out where she needed to go, then he sped away in the black SUV with the intention of returning when his friend called him to pick her up. She’d felt nothing but a chilling cool from him the entire day, reason enough to go through with Daniel’s bizarre plan. It was obvious that he needed this over as much as she did.
Fending off feelings of panic, Madeleine undressed quickly, pouring her faith into the process. If it worked, she’d come out clean, pure as the driven snow—if it worked.
Naked, she felt the man’s lust assault her, an urgency arising from his groin that was both feral and seductive. She could have easily opened her thighs and taken his cock, but she was sure that he wouldn’t be fucking her anytime soon, if at all.
The stranger took some time inspecting her body with a critical eye, then he bent her over an old worktable that looked as if it made its way to the New World on a sailing ship. It was as battered and stained as she felt, as gnarled as her twisted thoughts. She expected him to hit her, hurt her, to leave vicious marks on her body, but instead he was jamming fingers into her cunt, then her ass, then her cunt again. Trying her on for size, he seemed to mutter.
Then came the birches, which were followed by the cane. Her entire backside was lit up for an hour’s worth of grief, not in one round, but a dozen, with pauses in-between that cleared things out for a time before he started again. She hurt in every place there was to hurt. Her pussy suffered, although her back and ass took the brunt of the beating. The birches were ruthless tormentors driving the truth from the basement of her psyche although there seemed nothing new revealed, just the knowledge that she’d never been hurt like this before. She suppressed her cries for a while, as if that was what he wanted, but when she finally couldn’t contain her misery any longer, she wailed in a stream of woeful rants. He didn’t seem to care. Maybe he liked her screaming—although he didn’t like her trying to get away. When she wrenched particularly hard, he latched onto her and held her down until she finally calmed. Then he started back up again in the same punishing way, taking her down into another level of surrender. She belonged to him until the end, and the end didn’t come quickly. A long journey of pain continued until, at last, he had her on his table, on her hands his knees, with his greased fist sliding into her clenched bowels as if the whole of it would actually fit.
She learned it did; she learned that being fisted in the ass could actually make her come. It hurt like hell, as if her entire body would be split in two, but she did come, screaming loudly as the spasms wrenched her body. When he finally pulled out, she wished he would go right back in for more.
Then came the cane, brutalizing flesh that had already been well-beaten. Between the ruthless cuts, her unnamed interrogator demanded answers.
“Who fucked you over, Madeleine?” he tersely bit off the words just as the cane landed another blow.
It took a while to realize that he wanted her to speak. Several times he repeated the question—Who fucked you over, Madeleine?”—until she finally shouted:
“I don’t know what you mean!”
“Who was it that said you were a no good slut…?” he tried again.
She wracked her brain and when she said nothing, he went on:
“It’s usually a daddy, sometimes an uncle, sometimes the high school guidance counselor, but I think for you it happened much earlier than high school. Who was it, slut?”
She had no answers, but that didn’t seem to stop the probing, the browbeating, the cane coming down on her ass as hard as his barrage
of questions.
“You were just a little girl, weren’t you? Lost and alone,” his probing finally took her on a flight of fancy…
…with her thoughts suddenly careening back to that time on the cliff overlooking the Atlantic. She shivered now like she did then. Cold. Scared. Her brother Breslin playing a game of chicken, his laughter ringing out. She told him to come back. She shouted as he backed up but she was afraid of the cliffs. He jumped around like a dancing elf, still smiling, one minute there…the next gone in a flash. She screamed, frozen in place. They rushed passed her, Daddy stretched out on the ground reaching toward the far side of that scary cliff and finally lifting Breslin away from the rocky precipice where he’d been barely clinging to the rock. He fell into Daddy’s arms, sobbing.
Everyone was overjoyed, relieved, even little Madeleine breathed easier now—until Daddy handed Breslin off to Mommy and came back to her. He shook her shoulders, wagging an accusing finger in her face, his face in a fury, his eyes like the devil’s. She failed Breslin, she failed Daddy, she would never be any good, the awful lecture went on and on until Mommy pulled him away and half-heartedly hugged her. She was still worried about the poor, bruised Breslin.
Daddy never again looked at her without that fury lingering in the corner of his eyes. He’d never trust her again with anything so precious. Such a small thing, such a big drama, such a lasting and enormous guilt. To see it in her father’s eyes every day until he died broke her. Breslin was hardly wounded in the accident, he bragged about that day for years, how he almost fell to his death while his sister just stood there frozen. He didn’t hold it against her because it was no big deal for him. Everyone that loved the brash and charming Breslin suffered, and Madeleine would never be trusted again.
“You would have thought he died,” her confessor said. “And for that you’ve allowed yourself to suffer all this time?”
“My Daddy said that he wasn’t going to punish me. I’d have to think about what I’d failed to do and that would be enough. Breslin never let me forget, and then I married a man who was just like him.”
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