The Finest Line (22 page)

He walked away to a bedroom
coming off the lounge. With just her briefs still on, Mairead was
still very tempted to run but to what avail? Nothing would change
except her choice of fate where everyone else paid dearly. Only
when he returned did her resolve begin to weaken.

Mark had a cane. He brought it
to her and held it up for her inspection, “My attitude
adjuster.”

She tried not to show her fear.
“Would you like me to use that on you?”

He laughed and shook his head.
“I’m not the one with the fucking smart mouth.”

Strangely she wasn’t afraid as
she probably should have been. The thought of being punished was
almost comforting. If only it was James holding the cane, she would
welcome the retribution of her crimes. Perhaps it was justice that
it be wielded by someone she hated as much as herself.

When Mark produced handcuffs,
she didn’t resist as he put them on her, but she shook her head.
“You don’t have to restrain me.”

He laughed. “I think you’ll find
that I do.”

To the handcuffs he clipped a
long silver chain and then used it to lead her to a black leather
couch. Along the front of it were long strips of leather that had
been tied into bows.

He put his arm around her. “I
had this couch especially made for bad girls like you. You’ll find
it very comfortable, thickly padded in the finest leather and with
a few interesting accessories.”

He pushed her forward. “Kneel on
it and lean over the back.”

Mairead did as she was told and
was surprised at how comfortable it was. Her body and knees sank
deeply into soft leather. Her breasts rested snugly on top. She
stared down at the back of the couch and saw black metal rings at
the bottom. It reminded her of the ones on James’ bed.

Mark came round and took the end
of the chain, pulling it down and attaching it to one of the rings.
Her arms were stretched down the back and held securely, making her
lift up on her knees, sticking her backside out. He crouched down
to look at her and was surprised by her composure.

“You really should be getting
scared by now.”

She looked back in contempt.
“What’s the use of being scared? You’ll do it anyway.”

He shook his head and his eyes
wandered to her nipples. He took one in his fingers and rolled it
gently between his fingers until he squeezed it hard. Mairead
screamed until he let go. She cried as the last lingering agony
faded.

“It’s called pain,” Mark told
her casually. “That’s why you should be afraid.”

As she wept, Mairead summoned
every drop of saliva in her mouth and spat it straight into his
face. Mark flew to his feet and immediately and went to slap her
face. He stayed his hand and glared down at her, wiping his face
with his sleeve. “You fucking slut.”

Mairead laughed weakly. “That’s
called spit and that’s why you shouldn’t get too close.”

He smirked, “I don’t think I’ve
ever wanted to hurt a bitch so much.”

Returning to the front of the
couch, Mark took hold of her ankles. Mairead cried quietly, the
fear beginning to rise in her, as she felt the leather restrain her
feet, spreading her legs.

He leaned into her again. “Are
you wearing a pad or a tampon?”

Mairead started to laugh, as her
body sought release from a storm of emotion. “Are you fucking
kidding me?” She turned to look at him, laughing harder when he
pulled his face away. “You’re not really good at this are you?”

“I don’t want to see your
filth.” He told her angrily.

She contemplated not telling him
but didn’t want to risk him attacking her back on any other exposed
areas. Sighing she said, “Tampon.”

She didn’t flinch as she felt
her briefs pulled down to just below her cheeks. He was taking no
chances on that tampon escaping. His hand wandered over the surface
of her buttocks and gave some tentative pats. Again she felt the
response between her opened legs and Mairead hated that he could do
that to her. Her body and mind had become opposing forces.

“You are quite the package
deal,” Mark was breathing heavier. “Great tits, great arse, just a
pity about the mouth, but then again I haven’t used it to its full
capacity.”

To torment her further he
swished the cane near her, an almost tangible whoosh cutting the
air powerfully. Her courage began to wane.

“Mark please,” Her voice was
small and pleading. She pulled against the restraints, “Don’t do
this.”

He began tapping the cane
against her buttocks. “I thought you weren’t scared Mairead. Are
you beginning to understand who is in charge here?”

She nodded furiously, her voice
louder and tears adding to her pleas. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for
what I did. Please don’t hurt me.”

“I’m sorry too Mairead, that I’m
not convinced.”

The first stroke of the cane bit
violently into her flesh. Mairead screamed in agony, pulling to the
limit of her restraints. This was pain beyond anything she had
experienced. It vibrated through her lower body, keeping its
intensity long after the hit.

The viciousness of it unleashed
her fear with the realisation that this was not the application of
punishment by someone who cared for her. This was pure brutality
and she was in the hands of a man whose only motive was sadism and
revenge.

Mairead cried loudly. She was in
a situation beyond her control and now frightened beyond
belief.

The cane was tapping her again
but before she could plead, it was slammed against the centre of
her buttocks. She released a long guttural scream and strained
again, welcoming the pain of pulling against the handcuffs,
anything but the pain in her backside. Why could she not
refocus?

Somehow she knew the mistake she
had made, resisting her own arousal. Her body had been preparing
her and she had allowed her shame to dictate. It was now up to her
mind to reactivate that much needed lust for punishment.

Closing her eyes she pictured
James clearly, standing behind her holding the cane. As her
concentration increased, she thought of the hurt she had caused
James. Caning her this hard would be justified. Kylie had said that
his eyes were red from crying. Her agony could not compare to
his.

Mark was tapping the cane
against her. No, not Mark, it was James punishing her for hurting
him so badly and when he had finished he would love her and comfort
her. All her evil deeds would be paid for.

A whoosh ended with a loud
thwack upon naked skin.

Mairead screamed through gritted
teeth but this time she didn’t move allowing the path of the pain
to radiate deeply into her reaching its apex well after the strike
and gradually dulling.

By the fourth strike she was no
longer screaming, though her crying was loud and agonizing. James
was really angry and reminding her that there were consequences to
her actions. Slowly she was becoming thankful and calmer. James
would stop as soon as she was properly punished and it was for him
to know and her to obey.

Her mouth turned up into a weak
smile as she felt the tapping. James was going to punish her again
because he loved her completely. She welcomed the fifth strike with
a long groan. Her body had now surrendered and the pain was losing
its impact.

Her buttocks were burning and
stinging furiously. Blood was coursing to her vagina engorging her
clitoris, bringing the wonderful pulsation and tightening she
needed so desperately to feel. At each subsequent strike, the agony
grew sweeter and her vagina contracted deeply. With the ninth
stroke, she climaxed and her caning ended on the tenth.

Mairead remained still,
breathing heavily, her tears increasing as her thoughts of James
faded away. She already knew that movement was going to be
agonising, but she was given no choice when Mark released her and
pushed her down to the floor on her knees.

Knowing what was expected of
her, she allowed his hard penis to push into her mouth, still
aroused enough not to be sickened by what he was doing to her. She
accepted it as part of her punishment and her lips and tongue
responded. His fingers grasped her hair, as her hand worked his
penis with her mouth.

It was over in less than a
minute and Mairead pulled away to spew his come onto the floor. She
retched and spit, trying to remove the taste.

Mark was trembling and breathing
deeply as he looked down at her. “There’s something not quite right
about you.”

Mairead got up slowly, resisting
the urge to buckle under the pain. She wiped her mouth. Tears were
still streaming down her face as she nodded. “It’s the knowledge of
having nothing left to lose. You ever beat me like that again, and
I will find a way to kill you.”

Mark smirked, “After what you
just did then, I think I would die a happy man.” He studied her
curiously, “You take a hell of a hiding Mairead. If I didn’t know
better, I would have to say, I think you enjoyed that.”

She stared at him blankly, “Can
I get dressed?”

He nodded. “Yes but not in the
shit you were wearing. There’s a dress on my bed. Put it on and
then make yourself beautiful for our first public picture.”

As she pulled her briefs back in
place she gasped as she felt the sting. Every step hurt and she had
to move slowly to the bedroom, knowing that he was watching
her.

Lying on his bed was a plain
short black dress. She hated black but at least he had gotten the
size right. Looking past the bed she saw a built in mirrored
wardrobe. Every step was hell as she approached it apprehensively,
rotating and pulling down the back of her briefs.

She whimpered as she looked at
the long thin red welts which crisscrossed her cheeks, some that
had stained her skin with tiny droplets of blood.

When she emerged dressed from
the bedroom, Mark was waiting to hand her a pair of high heels, a
gold chain and matching earrings. “I figured you wouldn’t dress for
the occasion and so I was well prepared.” He also tossed her a bag
of make-up. “Be perfect or despite your warning, I will hurt you
again.”

He stayed with her while she
made up her face. “Don’t look so miserable Mairead and that’s an
order. You have ten minutes to discover the joy of our romance and
it better ring loud and clear in the photos. Is that
understood?”

Mairead smiled. “I’ll just think
about where I’d like to stick that cane. Is that romantic
enough?”

“Whatever turns you on,” He
answered dryly. “And I’ll just be thinking of a week from now when
I’ll be fucking a lot more than you’re mouth.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

During the interview with the
journalists, they sat on the very couch where he had beaten her
only an hour before. Mairead leaned into Mark, to keep the most of
the weight off her backside, the pain still rampantly radiating.
She felt subdued and tired and hoped her quietness would be
mistaken for a love struck girl. There was no denying that they
seemed the perfect couple and Mark’s contrived love story was the
very fodder of romance novels.

In that time, Mairead learned a
lot more about her fiancée. Like her, Mark knew how to play an
audience and was quietly confident. He played his part perfectly,
kissing her as the moment required, keeping his arm around her and
holding her hand. He spoke clearly and plausibly, spinning his tale
of whirlwind romance.

She was indifferent to playing
the blushing bride to be and allowed Mark to do most of the
talking. When one journalist fired a question in her direction she
found herself caught off guard.

“Mairead, how does your father
feel about you marrying the son of the very man who is giving him
so much grief at the moment?”

She dug a nail into Mark’s hand
but he was already answering for her. “The answer to that one my
friend is...” He grinned and gave the journalist a wink. “We
haven’t told either of our fathers yet and we are both really
sorry. This was the very reason we tried to go our separate ways,
but a few days apart and we knew we couldn’t do it. Our love for
each other was too deep and we had to believe that love conquers
all, even politics.”

His response brought sighs and
smiles from the media. Another called out. “Do you think that this
union will be the final catalyst needed for Sean Kavanagh to sign
off on your father’s unpopular development proposal?”

“Unpopular to whom,” Mark
challenged back. A small number of residents in some run down
apartments that should have been pulled down years ago?”

“Fifteen hundred people to be
exact Mr. Lewis,” someone called out. “Low income earners who can
barely afford to eat, let alone relocate and start again.”

“Beneficiaries, drug dealers and
child abusers I’m led to believe if one can believe the very
stories you people print about the area.” Mark eyed the journalist.
“My father wants to completely redevelop it and provide a safe
environment for families.”

“As long as they have a six
figure income,” The journalist scoffed and received a murmur of
support.

“Money isn’t a dirty word,” Mark
smiled unscathed. “The construction of the homes, for those with
your so called six figure incomes, is going to provide extensive
employment, up to a thousand jobs, so there doesn’t have to be
beneficiaries, drug dealers and child abusers.”

His answer received a slightly
greater support and Mark went on quickly. “Are you lot deliberately
trying to get me in trouble with my beautiful fiancée here. I
promised her no politics and when this woman says no to me, she
means business.”

He received laughter and someone
asked his opinion of her walk on the scaffolding. Mairead groaned
inwardly.

“I wasn’t happy, I can tell
you.” Mark grinned and put his arm around her. “We’ve had a few
discussions about it and Mairead has promised me she’s going to
keep her feet planted firmly on a gymnastics beam.”