I looked down at my plate. “I’d rather forget all about last night.”
He was silent for so long, I glanced up. He was glaring at me from across the table, obviously waiting to look me in the eye before continuing. “You know your behaviour was not acceptable and we need to deal with it?”
What? It didn’t happen here under his rules; I wasn’t even with him!
“That’s not fair, we weren’t together and you weren’t even supposed to go up to the bar.”
“Regardless, I still would have seen you had drunk too much.”
“You’ve never complained about my drinking in the past.”
“Those times have been within my control, last night wasn’t and I didn’t like it.”
He paused for a moment, as if considering his next words. “I am going to let you choose how you will be disciplined, from your chastise words.”
Chapter 17
How many times had I regretted making that damn list? I glanced down at my dress; another gift from Brendon. It was a sweet summer creation, white sleeveless with a full skirt that barely reached my thighs.
Both the dress and the enamel white ankle strap sandals were brand new, and had been left in his room for me to wear. The dress was draped over a chair, with the shoes placed neatly on the floor.
What was missing from the outfit was any form of underwear. I had considered getting some from my room, but I gathered he had deliberately not provided any bras or pants for a reason. I assumed he had something pleasurable planned, but now I knew there would also be pain.
I mentally ran through the remaining words. The least harsh sounding was castigate. This was the word he had threatened me with when he left me alone in the house, or repress; which meant to limit or hold back.
What would happen if I choose not to be disciplined? Would it be the end of our relationship? In fairness to Brendon, it wasn’t as if I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. If the wording of his ad didn’t tell me, then he had clearly outlined what he wanted, that first day sitting in his car. He wanted someone who was submissive, someone to chastise to comply with his wishes.
“Suzanna I’m waiting, or would you prefer I decide?”
“No... repress.” I held my breath, hoping I had chosen wisely.
He nodded and then stood up. “You’ve got five minutes to clear the dishes off the table.”
As I watched him walking up the stairs, I pondered what was going to happen, certain there was more to my discipline than housework.
By the time he came back, the table was once again returned to its bare state. He stood near the end of the table. “Come here.”
As I walked around the breakfast bar, I studied his features and noticed he didn’t have his usual disciplining expression. He almost looked like he wanted to....
He took me by surprise as he grabbed my arm, then bent me face down over the table. He held me there with an arm across my back, as he manoeuvred behind me.
What had brought this on, and how did this relate to repress?
He removed his arm with the order, “Don’t move!” and I felt him making adjustments, probably freeing himself from his shorts and putting on a condom.
A few seconds later, he was lifting the skirt of my dress. Its short length, combined with my lack of undies, made it easy to flip up and allow him access.
He plunged deeply inside me, with no preliminaries. His forced invasion made me gasp and I struggled to hold my position against the hard surface. Now I knew why he had wanted the table cleared, I reflected with a wince of pain.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw... what looked like some guy, with his tongue down your throat.”
“But I told you he wasn’t....”
“This is also for losing control and drinking to excess.”
As his demanding rhythm continued, my discomfort soon turned to enjoyment. It seemed I didn’t make too bad a choice, after all.
He must have been in tune with my body’s reactions, which prompted him to say, “This was supposed to be for my enjoyment, not yours. You already had your fun last night.”
So he wanted to repress my enjoyment? Repress suddenly seemed similar to restrain.
I tested my theory. “Do you want to repress my pleasure?”
“Repress also means to subdue and overpower.”
I gave a shaky laugh. “Well, you’ve certainly achieved that.”
My legs wobbled with the onset of an orgasm; my body simply couldn’t resist his, even so it seemed, without any foreplay.
He followed my lead and gripped my hips. He swore and almost growled as he reached his peak, continuing to ride me throughout his climax. He eventually released me and stepping back, delivered one sharp slap to my butt. “It looks like you need another shower.”
He helped me up and held my gaze. “Then we will talk further about your indiscretion.”
He didn’t move, obviously waiting for me. With as much dignity as I could muster, I turned towards the stairs. I hoped he meant talk literally as I was not feeling up to a harsher discipline session.
I was opening the door of the spare bathroom as he came up behind me, wrapping an arm casually around my waist. He bent down and whispered in my ear. “Join me in the en-suite, there’s more room.”
I turned and glanced up, happy to see him smiling, knowing the shower to come would be more pleasurable than our rushed coupling over the dining table.
It still amazed me how gentle and caring he could be, especially after having been on the receiving end of his rough and callous treatment. He had a Jekyll and Hyde personality and I was shocked to realise I liked both of them, for totally different reasons. His tender side made me think it was possible we could be a couple, while I had to admit a certain attraction to his bad side. After all, I did enjoy myself even though I wasn’t supposed to.
After another shared shower, along with shared pleasures, we were back downstairs; this time on the lounge. Instead of sitting next to me in the corner, Brendon chose the end of the shorter section of the L shape; still close enough, but out of arms reach.
“Would you agree to no alcohol until say, Christmas Eve?”
He was asking me to refrain from drinking for ten days. I may have agreed, if it didn’t include the week leading up to Christmas. As I gathered my thoughts about the upcoming week, I noted he had not ordered me, he had asked me.
Puzzled, I stared up at his expectant expression. “Why are you requesting, instead of demanding?”
He laughed at my question. “Because I’m not going to be here to keep a check on you.”
He wasn’t? I knew he was going to Melbourne over Christmas but… “When are you going away?” I asked quietly.
“Friday night.”
Oh. This meant we wouldn’t be seeing each other after the weekend.
He leaned towards me. “Suzie, are you considering this, or have you gone off on another tangent?”
How did he get into my thoughts, when I had no idea what he was thinking? I mentally shook my head and concentrated on his request and its implications. “I have considered it and my answer is no.”
“No?”
“If it wasn’t the week before Christmas, I probably would agree.”
“But?” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for my response.
“But I have several functions to attend.”
“Several, in one week?”
“Yes, Tuesday is Racing and Gaming Squad’s Christmas do, that’s where Mandy works. Then on Thursday it’s the CIB function, where all sections are invited. And on Friday, Homicide Squad are going out to dinner with their partners. I was going to ask if you wanted to go but... you won’t be here.”
There was no need to tell him I had not planned on attending Mandy’s or the CIB one. Just like I hadn’t wanted to go to the Sundowner. It seemed the enjoyment of these events had lost their attraction, since Brendon had arrived on the scene. How pathetic to think my life now revolved around him, but apparen
tly not vice-versa.
I lowered my eyes briefly, not wanting him to see how important he had become. I felt him move and glanced up to see him sliding next to me. He cupped my chin so we were eye to eye.
“You know we’re not partners?” I nodded.
“But it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
This raised my hopes. “Is that why you carried me upstairs and stayed with me until I went to sleep?”
His reply was delivered in a sharper tone. “I carried you in case you fell and hurt yourself, and I showered with you and put you to bed for the same reason.”
He must have noticed my crestfallen expression. “Tell me truthfully, how you feel about our arrangement?”
Should I ask him about the other women? No, I couldn’t. Not only did I break his trust, but I had kept my actions secret for too long – I definitely did not want to be disciplined for it.
“Sometimes I think all I am to you is convenient, I suit your needs; the same as any other girl would, had she answered your ad instead of me.” Had he met her that was as well?
The look on his face was like I had slapped him. After a long pause, that I didn’t feel inclined to interrupt, he slowly shook his head. “I’m shocked you think you mean so little to me. We already had this conversation the night you almost walked out on me.”
My mind recalled the night we had argued and later our conversation, when he had convinced me to stay. He had said he was happy with me and how things were going. Of course nothing had changed for him, but it had for me. Every day, every week I craved for more from him, more than he was prepared or able to give.
“But I’m not your girlfriend, I’m little more than a friend.” I expressed my biggest disappointment regarding our relationship.
“That’s not true, you are definitely more than a friend. And as far as being my girlfriend….” He paused for effect. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Oh my god, I could not quite believe what I was hearing.
He continued speaking, before I could formulate a response. “I know you want more, but so do I.”
I recalled his phone call about his proposition and his ultimatum. My heart seemed to stop beating; it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I took in a large gulp of air, held it and then slowly released it; all the while my eyes never left his.
Surprisingly, Brendon was the first to break eye contact. He rose and walked to the fridge. I was shocked to see him take out a bottle of wine. Surely he wasn’t going to allow me to drink alcohol, not when he had expressly asked me to refrain from drinking?
As he reached for some glasses, he called over his shoulder. “Have you ever considered improving your body, changing what you don’t like?”
“Do you mean cosmetic surgery?”
He nodded, confirming his strange question. Was he talking hypothetically, or was he trying to tell me something?
He returned to the lounge with a white wine for each of us.
“Well, I’ve always wanted larger boobs.”
“No way, you’re breasts are the perfect handful as they are.” He seemed horrified at my suggestion.
I took a tiny sip of wine, not wanting to appear like I was hanging out for a drink, as I digested his flattering comment.
“Anything else?”
Why was he was still fishing for an answer? I initially assumed it was a random question, but now I was not so sure. I shook my head and peeked up at him over my glass, as I took another sip.
He ran his fingers through his hair and then downed half his glass in one gulp, before placing it on the coffee table. I cringed at his sombre expression. “Would you consider having a nose job?”
Chapter 18
A multitude of feelings came over me at once; anger at his suggestion, despair at my imperfect shortcoming, and defensive of my bruised feelings. To make matters worse, I could feel my cheeks suffusing with heat, knowing I was blushing under his watchful gaze.
I didn’t know which emotion he saw, but it caused him to sigh and hang his head. After a few moments of awkward silence, I knew he was waiting for a response.
All of a sudden, everything became clear. His insistence on not taking me out in public, yet he was photographed with a beautiful girl. Why he made me stay upstairs when he had visitors and finally, ultimately why – oh, my, god! He had wanted to talk about being his girlfriend – this was his ultimatum!
Surely he could not be so crass as to force me to undergo a surgical procedure, in order to be good enough to be his girlfriend? I was horrified, as I acknowledged how all the pieces fell into place.
It took every bit of willpower to refrain from getting the hell out of there, as quick as I could. But of course, it was exactly what he expected me to do. It also explained the phone call, preparing me for an important decision about our future together. Nothing could have prepared me for this eventuality. I was stunned!
In a role reversal I reached for him, touching his chin and tilting it up until he was looking at me, “You mentioned we both wanted more – I want to be your girlfriend, is this your want – for me to have a nose job?”
I almost whispered the last two words. Surprisingly, I sounded calm, in total contrast to my inner turmoil. I knew what his answer would be, but I really wanted to know why and what would happen if I flatly refused?
He removed my hand from his face and held it between both of his. His words were thick with emotion. “Suzanna, I would like it very much if you would do this, as a way of showing your total commitment to me.”
I found it hard to comprehend what he meant. “So, becoming your girlfriend is not enough? It’s what most couples settle for.”
He gave me a small grin. “But we’re not like most couples. Think about it, everything I’ve done to you or you’ve endured up to this point, has been with your total agreement. This is one more step in the relationship.”
I shook my head at this. Where would it end, would I have to get a tattoo next, branding me as his property?
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking, I wish I had my car here.”
“So you can leave?”
“Something like that.”
He sighed again, as if he didn’t know what to say or do next. “You know I could keep you here until you give me your answer, but this decision is too important. I want you to take your time and if it means you need to be alone to do that, then so be it.”
I considered the questions I still needed answers to. “I couldn’t afford to pay....”
“I will be paying all medical expenses and any other out-of-pocket costs you may have.”
I nodded at his response. I had assumed this would be the case, but wanted confirmation. However, there were other more demanding questions I still needed resolving. I straightened my back and plunged into the most important one. “What happens if my answer is no?”
Brendon lifted my hand, still in his grasp. He leaned over and tenderly kissed it. This was without a doubt the most romantic gesture he had ever made. A pity it was immediately followed by his reply. “I’m sorry, but I can’t see a future for us.”
I hung my head for a moment, before again looking up at him. “I want to go home to think about everything. Will you drive me to pick up my car from work?” The previous evening, Peter had organised for my car to be driven from the pit to the secure CIB car park.
“I can’t see a future for us.” Those words kept replaying over and over in my head. I thought about them from every different aspect and kept coming back to the same conclusion. What he really meant, was he could not see himself putting up with my large nose in the future and the ball, or rather the nose, was in my court. It meant I had an agonising decision to make, keep my oversized appendage, or keep Brendon. Damn it, I wished I had asked him about that other room and the owner of those beautiful outfits. Was she his past, or was there a simple explanation for the clothes? And worse, if I said no, would he be with her instead?
&nbs
p; I had locked myself up in my room for the past three hours. I saw Diane’s door was closed; she was probably catching some sleep before her night shift. That suited me fine. The last thing I wanted was an interrogation on why I was here, instead of Brendon’s.
I punched my tear-soaked pillow for the umpteenth time, as I wished once again for a normal relationship; to have a boyfriend who bought me flowers, took me out to dinner, or even to a club to go dancing. The irony was we could have this kind of relationship, there was one thing holding us back. But as I gazed at it in the mirror, my heart sank. I did not think I could do it!
An idea came to me and I decided to act on it, as I picked up the phone to call my best friend.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Who is this? It sounds a bit like Suzie but it can’t be, not on a Saturday.”
“Ha-ha, very funny Jeanette, just answer the question.”
“Well, actually I was….”
“Well you’re going out now, with me. I want to go somewhere loud and wild.”
After a pause, she laughed. “Well it sounds like we’re going to RAZORS!” We both yelled out the last word.
I may not have someone to buy me flowers or take me out for a romantic dinner, but I definitely had someone to take me clubbing. Razors had been a favourite of ours over the years. It didn’t really have the best reputation; most of its patrons were biker types and the DJ catered to their tastes by playing heavy rock songs. And that was why we went there, not for the company, but for the great head-banging music. An added bonus was there were no long queues to contend with.
As I glanced around the dimly lit club I appreciated how good it felt to be out with my best friend. It had really been too long since I had let my hair down, and Jeanette was the person to help me achieve that uninhibited state. We were so alike, both in personalities and looks. Being the same height and weight had come in handy over the years, as we could share clothes, even shoes.
Although she knew something was up, she didn’t pry, didn’t question or try to console me. She just did what Jeanette did best. To make me feel special and loved.
Bounce Down: 1st Quarter: Start of Play Page 15