Bounce Down: 1st Quarter: Start of Play (21 page)

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 apparently 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?”

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.”