Bounce Down: 1st Quarter: Start of Play (25 page)

“
Would we be
exclusive, you wouldn’t see anyone else?”

He frown at my question. “Of
course not, and I would insist the same applies to you. Now quit
stalling and tell me, please.”

Shyly, I lowered my head before
replying softly, “I can’t believe I’m saying this but yes, if
that’s what it takes, then I agree.”

I was immediately grabbed
around the waist and hauled over his shoulder cave-man style, with
my upper body hanging upside down against his back. I squealed with
shock and delight, as wordlessly he carried me up the stairs,
appearing to have no trouble bearing my weight.

In his room, he threw me down
on the bed almost winding me, where he quickly dispensed with my
well-chosen clothes and proceeded to ravish me. He didn’t tell me
what to do or ask what I wanted. In fact, he didn’t speak at all
and for me, that was the most stimulating part. The first night
with Brendon I was too embarrassed to tell him, but what had just
transpired was in fact, my ultimate fantasy.

Afterwards, he pulled me close
with my face against his chest. I could feel my body quivering,
almost like orgasmic aftershocks. He must have wrongly interpreted
my shaking, as he pulled away slightly and raised my face to his.
“Are you all right, I hope I wasn’t too forceful?”

He held my cheeks in both hands
and looked at me with concern, as though he was worried at how his
rough treatment had affected me. For the moment, I couldn’t speak.
I knew my face was flushed and my eyes must have been bright with
unshed tears, tears of joy and fulfilment; but he wasn’t to know
the reason. All I could do, was shake my head wordlessly.

“
I’ve missed
you. I was hot for you, for your body and when you said yes, it was
the final straw. I had to have you, there and then. I’m
sorry.”

I smiled up at him and finally
found my voice. “Don’t be sorry, I enjoyed every minute, it was
incredible.”

His expression changed to one
of surprise at my words, then recovering, he too smiled and drew me
into a tight embrace. I stayed what was left of the night, locked
there within his arms, as I thought, there was no place I would
rather be.

End of
1
^st
Quarter

“
Quarter
Time”

“
Paying the
Penalty”

2
^nd
QUARTER

As I lay in my suite, at the
exclusive Royal Retreat private facility, waiting for the surgeon
to finally remove my bandages, I reminisced about the night Brendon
had arrived on my doorstep. Desperate for my answer, he had whisked
me back to his place, where I agreed to his proposition, his
ultimatum.

After spending the rest of the
night within his arms, I didn’t think I could be more content. I
was wrong. The following night, New Year’s Eve, we went on our
first official date to a small night club in West Perth. I was
wearing a beautiful creation; a turquoise cocktail dress, silver
stilettoes and diamond drop earrings. But the highlight of that
last day of 2013 was when he sang to me on the dance floor.

We were slow
dancing, arm in arm, to a romantic song. The DJ then played
Are You Gonna Be My Girl?
The rest of the dancers changed tempo, while we continued to
dance cheek to cheek, with Brendon singing along to the lyrics. I
almost melted every time he sang,
“I said,
are you gonna be my girl?”

My surgeon, Dr Chris Taylor,
entering my private room, brought me back to the present. After
carefully removing my bandages, he handed me a mirror.

“
Now
remember, there will be some bruising and swelling. It will
diminish gradually over the next few weeks.”

I took my first look at my new
self. It was hard to overlook the purplish patches and the
puffiness, but I could definitely see an improvement. My nose was
narrower and more defined, more correct.

Even so, I was immensely
relieved that Brendon wasn’t there to see me like this, transformed
but not quite healed; a definite turn-off. I recalled our
conversation about my procedure. He had demanded to be involved
every step of the way, but I had been adamant we were not to have
any contact whatsoever.

I insisted on going ahead with
the operation on my own. I even stipulated that he was not allowed
to drive me; I had arranged for mum and dad to take me there and
pick me up. Thanks to Brendon’s organising and anticipation of my
agreement, I had virtually no waiting time before being admitted;
no doubt in case I changed my mind.

After the
doctor left, I gazed out my window, not even noticing the panoramic
water views of the bay below, as I wondered about my family and
friends. I had to lie to them about the reason behind having
cosmetic surgery, stating I had always hated my nose and that
Brendon had offered to pay. I did not like lying or keeping the
truth from people. I had been doing it quite a lot since I had met
him. Brendon was the only person that I
did not
lie to, I didn’t
dare.

Every so often he would text me
and while they weren’t the words of a person in love, they still
gave me some comfort and I would reread them on my bad days, if I
was in some pain or discomfort, or just feeling lonely. It was hard
not to reply to any of his messages, especially the ones asking
about the operation.

But I hadn’t
trusted myself enough not to let him know how I was feeling;
resentful and with some indignation at having to put myself through
all this, as a way of showing my total commitment to him.
What did it mean anyway?
I had asked myself that question many times. Were his words
just a cover-up for what he really meant, so I would be pretty
enough to be his girlfriend?

Yes, I still did have moments
when he was not my favourite person and, although I had never
considered having a nose job, I was starting to come to terms with
everything. After weighing up what I had endured, in comparison to
what I was gaining, I was in a win-win situation.

I spent several more weeks
recuperating, incorporating multiple visits from my surgeon. I had
been out of action for all of January and the first two weeks of
February. It was just as well that Brendon was spending a lot of
time training, in the lead-up to the start of the AFL season.

“
So, what do
you think of my handiwork now?” Dr Chris was again standing before
me.

Once again, I was looking at
the hand-held mirror, gazing intently at the finished product now
that the major swelling had gone down. The person who stared back
at me was quite attractive, but I couldn’t help wonder if I would
pass muster in Brendon’s eyes.

“
With results
like this, I don’t know why women aren’t throwing themselves at
your feet.”

He laughed and replied with a
wink. “Who says they’re not?”

Dr Chris had become almost like
a friend and, if not for Brendon, I would have been interested in
the young, good looking surgeon with the startling hazel eyes,
although I suspected his friendliness was just his usual bedside
manner. I did think, though, that he took pity on me because I
received no visitors during my stay. It had been my decision
because I didn’t want anyone to see what an ordeal I was going
through.

‘
I’m going
home 2day – do u want me to come over 2moro nite? Thanks 4 the
texts – sorry I didn’t reply Suzie x’

The next day
was a Friday, as well as being Valentine’s Day, making it the
perfect day to be seeing Brendon for the first time since my
transformation. I received a reply text within a minute,
‘looking 4ward 2 it – come @ 6’

After spending an inordinate
amount of time choosing what to wear, I finally settled on my red
strapless dress. It was now special to me, in that I was wearing it
the first time he saw me. So in a way, it was fitting to wear it
the first time he would see the new me.

After gaining entry through the
gate, I pulled a black veil over my face, to prolong the suspense.
I parked my car near the steps where Brendon was standing and saw
the puzzled look on his face. As he helped me out of the car, I
noticed him looking at what I was wearing. In addition to the veil,
all he could see was a black ankle-length coat, my stockinged feet
and high heels.

He reached for the veil, but I
pulled back. “Let’s go inside first.”

He held my hand in his. With
his other hand on the small of my back, he ushered me up the steps
and through the front door. He was handsome in his black trousers
and matching jacket, a pristine white long sleeve business shirt,
with the top two buttons undone.

After closing the door, he
turned to me. “We’re inside, so can I look at you now?”

I shook my head. “Turn
around.”

Once he had complied, I removed
both the veil and coat. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

He took his first look and I
saw he was happy, but not surprised as I anticipated he would
be.

He came towards me. “I like the
dress and what’s inside it.” I had tied a red silk ribbon in a bow
around my neck, indicating that I was his Valentine’s gift. He
leaned down and cupped my face, as he passionately kissed me. I
fought to keep my arms at my sides. I had resolved that I would let
Brendon make all the moves, as I didn’t want to appear too clingy
or needy, even though I was.

He gently kissed me on his
newly-paid-for nose, then nodded his apparent approval. “I like
it.”

Once again, his reaction was
somewhat understated, not what I had expected. The first thing that
came to mind was he had already seen my nose, but that was
impossible, wasn’t it?

“
Dr Taylor
said there’s still minor swelling, which should be gone within 2-3
weeks.”

“
Yes, I
know.”

“
Did you have
any contact with Dr Taylor after my operation?” The words were out
before I could stop them.

He hesitated slightly. “Of
course I did. I wanted to know how the operation went and I
couldn’t get any details from you, could I?”

Okay, so what
else did Dr Chris reveal, photographs of me perhaps?
“Did he send you a report, complete with
photos?”

“
Let’s not
talk about this anymore, you’re here now and you look great.” He
took my hand and led me to the breakfast bar. “What about a drink
to celebrate?”

“
Brendon, I
want to know. I didn’t want you to see me before, before I was
healed.” I began to tear up as I said the words.

“
Hey it’s
okay, I didn’t see any pictures, all right?”

I watched his eyes as he spoke.
I had received dating tips from police officers I had worked with
over the years. One that had come in handy was being able to tell
if someone was not telling the truth. According to my source, if
someone lied their eyes went upwards to the left. It wasn’t
definitive, but a good indicator. Sadly, I suspected he was
lying.

After our champagne toast,
Brendon stated, “Your Valentine present is up in your room.” He
glanced at his watch. “I have made dinner reservations for seven
o’clock, so don’t take too long,” as he motioned for me to go
upstairs.

At the top of the stairs, I saw
the door to the secret room was still firmly closed. I made a
mental note to ask him about it and its contents, once and for all.
But not tonight, I didn’t want anything to spoil our reunion.

On entering my room, I saw
there was another new dress for me to wear. So much for my
carefully chosen outfit. My new one was floor length,
off-the-shoulder in white chiffon, as well as some more stilettos,
also white.

But I received the biggest
shock upon opening the velvet jeweller’s box. Inside, was a gold
chain with a huge tear-drop emerald pendant and as I fastened the
clasp, the stone sat nestled between my breasts. As well as the
necklace, were some beautiful emerald earrings, which perfectly
matched my eyes.

During our candlelit dinner in
a secluded corner of La Grange’s, a quaint Italian restaurant, I
told myself he was lying about the photos in order to protect my
feelings. I didn’t want to ruin the most romantic evening we had
spent together, so I let the subject rest.

Later, back at Brendon’s, he
told me to have a shower and he would come upstairs, “to take
possession of my Valentine.”

I smiled as I
washed myself, eager for the sex to come. I could not believe it
had been six weeks since we made love, although
‘made love’
were probably not the
right words to describe our sexual encounters.

As I was reaching for the
shampoo, I heard the glass door slide open. Half turning, I saw it
was Brendon, naked and looking magnificent. Obviously he couldn’t
wait either.

Before I had a chance to fully
turn towards him, he put a hand on my shoulder and faced me back
towards the wall.

“
Bend over.”
His command was softly spoken, but resolute.

I leant forward, placing my
palms against the wall, but he still wasn’t satisfied.

“
Lower! Touch
the floor!”

As soon as I was in position,
he grabbed my hips roughly and thrust into me with forceful
strokes, staking his claim over me as he growled, “You belong to me
now slave, only me, got it?”