Simon Says

8

She had expected Simon to whip her again, to punish her for her little outburst, but he didn't; this time he seemed to be satisfied with her eventual submission. She was relieved to be spared the pain, but part of her had looked forward to the outpouring of love, passion and tenderness that had followed the previous whippings, and now once more she wondered if she would ever see that from him again.

But something had changed in her now. It was as if she was standing apart from herself, watching indifferently as this silly person with her name went about her life, with no will of her own, with no wish except to be loved by a man who made that life a hell. With the servants her shame and self-consciousness were still there, but she let no sign of it show now, giving them orders and instructions and dealing with problems just as if they had never seen her naked, had never been inside her, never had her mouth around their penises or her tongue inside their vaginas. And when, from time to time, Simon told her it was time for one or another of them to take his turn with her, she did what she had to do, following Simon's orders, performing as well as she could, but impersonally, unemotionally, watching herself all the time as if it were someone else doing these things, or having them done to her.

Then one day at breakfast Simon said, "I want you to go to the apartment today, Elaine. I will be bringing a client there after work."

Very carefully Elaine put down her coffee cup, forcing herself to swallow the sip she had just taken. She said nothing.

"Jason will drive you there this afternoon," Simon went on. "He will also secure you in the manner I will prescribe. He will have strict instructions, and will do only what I tell him to do. But you will allow him to do that."

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "Must I be 'secured,' Simon?" she said. "Do you think I'm going to run away?"

"No," Simon said. "But as I have explained to you, Elaine--"

"Yes, I know," she interrupted. "It adds to the atmosphere. It makes it more exciting. I don't really understand that, Simon. But I suppose I have no choice."

"Of course you have," Simon said. "You are free to leave right now, or at any time during the day. You have already abjured that choice on several occasions, Elaine, but you can always change your mind. You are, after all, a free woman."

The deliberate irony of this last statement pierced her like a sword, and the sudden shame and anger that flooded through her made her think again of actually leaving him, if only she could find the strength. But when he rose to leave, he came around the table and bent to kiss her goodbye. It was a loving, lingering kiss, gentle and sweet and yet full of the promise of passion, and as always she couldn't help responding. "I'm looking forward to tonight, darling," Simon said then, and left her there.

Tonight.

.

She sat in the back of the limo as Jason drove her to the apartment. The chauffeur's manner was respectful, even deferential, and they were silent as they went up in the elevator. He opened the apartment door with a key, and once inside she moved into the living room and then turned to him with her head high, doing her best to conceal her trepidation. "I take it my husband has given you instructions," she said flatly.

"Yes, ma'am," Jason replied. "First you need to get undressed, ma'am. Completely, please."

"I see." She was determined not to show her reluctance, or her fear. Of course, Jason had seen her naked before. But somehow that didn't lessen her self-consciousness as she began to strip before him. She thought of going into another room to undress, but what was the sense of that? She took off her clothes as matter-of-factly as she could, neither rushing nor hesitating. When she was naked she looked him in the eye as before. "What now?"

Jason led her to the foyer then, to the set of manacles set into the floor and hanging from the ceiling. There he fastened her in the position which was to become familiar to her, with her legs stretched wide apart and her arms pulled high above her head. An inverted Y. Aside from whatever manipulation was necessary to position her properly, he did not touch her body or make any advances. When he had secured the manacles around her wrists and ankles, he adjusted the chains so that she was drawn tight, her body straining painfully. She could not hold back a gasp of distress as he made the last adjustment. She was pulled so taut she was almost quivering.

Having secured her that way, Jason left without another word. Locking the door behind him.

It seemed hours that she waited there, and with every minute her pain and discomfort got worse. She didn't think she could stand it. She must pass out. But she couldn't; the anguish was too great, and the effort of trying to control the agony, first by hanging from her wrists to lessen the strain on her tortured legs, then by forcing those legs to support her in order to assuage her wrists, arms and shoulders, was unrelenting. Her head fell back; her breath came loud and harsh from her mouth; sweat ran down her tormented body in rivulets. How long must she wait this way?

Until Simon came, she thought. Damn him. Damn you, Simon. I love you, why are you doing this to me?

By the time she heard the sound of a key in the lock she was moaning continuously, moaning and whimpering in her cruel position. Her head came up quickly as the door opened. Simon was alone.

He took a few steps into the foyer and stopped still, gazing at her. His face was glowing, absolutely glowing. For several long moments he took in the sight of her stretched and aching body, her open, panting mouth, her outstretched, quivering legs, her tautened, heaving bosom.

"Magnificent," he said finally, his voice throaty. "You look magnificent that way, Elaine. Incredibly so." And standing there before her he began to take off his clothes.

Elaine stared. Through her pain she mustered up strength to speak, though her throat felt dry and raw and each word was an effort. "Simon," she rasped. "I thought...you...your client..."

"Unfortunately, he was unable to keep our appointment," Simon said. "His flight was delayed. I am hoping he will be here tomorrow." He finished removing his clothes and took a step toward her. His penis was erect and throbbing.

"Oh god." Elaine felt a mixture of relief and despair. The thought that all of this pain and suffering had been unnecessary was galling to her. And though she had at least been be spared the shame and degradation with a stranger that she had been expecting, that release would be only temporary. Tomorrow again... She couldn't bear it. "Take me down, Simon. Please. Take me down. I'm hurting. I'm in pain, Simon, please."

"I can see that," Simon said. He reached out a hand to touch her breast, then stroked it tenderly. "I can see you are, darling. It's lovely. So lovely."

The passion on his face and in his voice thrilled and frightened her at once. And as he came closer to her, pressing himself against her stretched and straining body, then reaching down to adjust himself at the entrance to her open vagina, a sudden cry escaped her gasping mouth. "Oh god, Simon!" she choked out, and then she screamed as he thrust himself up inside her. There was agony in that scream, but not agony alone.

Her shrieks and cries continued as Simon's arma went around her, his hands grasping her buttocks, pulling her tightly against his body as he proceeded to fuck her with strong, hard strokes. Each thrust sent bolts of terrible pain through her body, pulling her wrists and ankles cruelly against the metal cuffs, torturing her stretched and aching muscles. But even in her torment she was grateful that it was Simon who was doing this to her, her husband, her lover, not some stranger or a servant or a business associate. Not today anyway. Not right now. Simon was moving harder, his face buried in her neck, gasping and grunting as he reveled in her helpless hurting body. "Sweet Elaine," he panted, his voice mingling with her cries and moans. "Sweet hurting baby. My sweet suffering wife." As usual, his passion thrilled her, but even in the midst of her suffering and confusion the thought came to her that he was making love to her pain, not to her. Loving her agony. Fucking her helplessness. And though a part of her was still aroused by his wanting her--for whatever reason--she was unable to respond as strongly to him as in the past. Whether because of the all-consuming pain, or her unwanted thoughts, or the memory of Sarah, or a combination of all those things, for the first time in their life together Simon's lovemaking failed to bring her to climax.

If Simon was aware of that, he didn't acknowledge it. With a final lunge that made her scream more loudly than ever, he came inside her holding her tightly and agonizingly against him until he had finished shooting. Then he let her go and stepped back, panting. Gasping for breath and moaning, she was unable to speak, but her eyes pleaded with him to release her from her bondage.

But it was only after he had gone in to wash himself off, and then had dressed again, that he produced his keys and unlocked her fetters. Elaine crumpled to the floor, unable at first to stand on her legs or even to move much at all without cramping pain suffusing her stiff and throbbing body. She lay there in a kind of foetal position for a long time, moaning softly, while Simon sat and watched her. When at last she was able to uncurl herself and, with some difficulty, to sit up, Simon went into the kitchen and made drinks for both of them, bringing hers back to her.

"This will become easier in time, Elaine," he told her. "Your body will adjust, to some extent, to the necessity of your circumstances. Though not too much, I hope," he added.

Elaine stared at him. "God," she croaked out finally. She was still breathing heavily. "Why do you hate me so, Simon? Why?"

His eyes widened. "Hate you? I don't hate you, Elaine. I love you. Why else did I marry you? Why else do I want you with me?"

"I don't know," she said hollowly. "Maybe because of the pleasure you take in my pain. For the satisfaction it gives you to make me do these...these terrible, shaming things. Maybe for that."

"But, darling, those things wouldn't give me pleasure if I didn't care for you. What you call my satisfaction comes from knowing that you return my love so much that you willingly give me what I ask, so as to make me happy."

"Willingly?" she said bitterly. But how could she refute that? She could always leave him. Even now she could leave him.

"Tomorrow," Simon said after a pause, "my client should finally arrive. I will instruct Jason to bring you here again, and to position you in the same way. I am sure he will be pleased with you."

Again there was a long pause. Elaine finished her drink. Finally she took a deep breath. "Simon?" she said.

"Yes, darling."

"If I--if you insist on putting me up that way...must you have Jason do it? He...he's so..."

Simon's face darkened. "Has he been offensive to you, Elaine? Has he overstepped his orders?"

"Offensive?" She almost laughed. "He has been nothing but offensive to me, but not in any way that you--" She hesitated. "That you haven't approved of," she finished, a trace of bitterness in her voice again. "But he--I--I don't think you need him for this, Simon. I think I could--I'm sure I could do it myself. If necessary."

Simon raised his eyebrows. "Do it yourself?" he repeated.

"Yes." She swallowed. "I'm sure I could. Just fasten the manacles around my ankles and then...and then stretch up and...Yes, Simon, I know I could. Can't we dispense with Jason, at least for this? Please, Simon."

Simon looked doubtful. "Even if you could do that, Elaine, Jason would still have to drive you here. So he might as well--"

"Why?" she said. "I can get here on my own. I'm not a prisoner, Simon, as you have so often pointed out. There are taxis, you know. There is public transportation. I'm not helpless, Simon. Not in that way, anyway."

Simon just looked at her. "Show me," he said finally.

"What?"

"Show me you can do it. Put yourself up like that."

So she did. It was terribly painful and difficult, with her body still aching and stiff from her earlier ordeal, but she forced herself to do it. With Simon watching her every move, she spread her legs as wide as she could to secure her ankles in the floor manacles, then made herself stand erect and stretch her arms up as far as she could reach in order to close each of the hanging cuffs around her wrists. The effort brought cries and moans and grunts of pain from her open mouth, but she managed after a number of tries, and at last stood there before her husband as she had when he first came in, utterly helpless, naked, stretched and straining, panting and gasping and perspiring.

"Very good, Elaine," Simon said, and his voice was hoarse with renewed arousal. "All right, then, I agree that we can relieve Jason of this duty. In fact I quite like the idea of you preparing yourself this way for the entertainment of my friends and colleagues. You are indeed a marvelous wife."

Those last words, which once would have thrilled her, went almost unheard in her agonized state. She was conscious only of the torment in her body, and her desperate desire to be taken down from there. But Simon was undressing again, and this time, as he once more vented his lust upon her tortured body, she couldn't keep herself from screaming with pain. With pain and despair. And self-loathing.