| Subject: This I Offer 5/10 |
Author:
Athena4
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Date Posted: 19:13:49 03/05/02 Tue
In reply to:
Athena4
's message, "This I Offer" on 14:58:36 03/03/02 Sun
Joseph led them back down the main corridor, finally stopping before one of the sets of double doors. Pulling a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door, gesturing for them to enter. He entered behind them, turning on the overhead lights.
“These work on a dimmer,” he said, gesturing to the knob on the wall. “You can adjust the lighting, but you’re asked to leave it above half-way. Mr. Ryker has dimmer control as well; if the lights dip below half-way he will remedy the matter – and you may not like his choice of illumination.”
Joseph paused, waiting for acknowledgement. Madeline looked up at Paul forlornly as he nodded his understanding.
“Good,” Joseph continued, nodding towards an oversized mirror on the far wall. “It’s best if you ignore your audience. Aside from that…you’re free to do this however you choose.”
“Thank you,” Paul said.
Ryker’s lackey nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Madeline heard his key turn in the door and felt her heart jump into her throat. You can do this she thought. Distract yourself…give yourself time to prepare.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she studied the room. It was sparsely decorated, but the furniture it did have added to the warped piety of the entire compound. A queen-sized bed was pushed up against the wall opposite the door. The headboard, a ghastly design, stood like an altar behind it, casting an eerie shadow over the pillows. Two identical side tables sat on either side of the bed, matching chairs opposite them on the far wall.
The chief feature of the room was the oversized mirror. It was prominently displayed on the wall, a gaudy gold frame clashing with the flowered wallpaper. Madeline could sense Ryker and his cronies watching her from behind it, and she suppressed a shudder once more. If she listened carefully, she was fairly certain she’d be able to hear the beginning strains of Wagner reverberating through the walls.
She turned back towards the doorway to find Paul approaching her. His jacket and tie were long gone, tossed across one of the chairs by the door. He pulled her into his arms, leaning in to whisper in her ear.
“Two cameras. One directly above the bed, facing downwards. The other just above the headboard – pointing towards the bed.” She nodded against his chest, leaning in towards him and allowing her hands to drop to her sides. As his hands slid down her back, she pulled away, escaping to the far side of the room, opposite the mirror. It was time for the real show to begin.
“Paul, we can’t do this,” she said resolutely, tears forming easily in her eyes. “We’ll go home. We’ll ask Momma for a loan.”
“Madeline,” Paul growled, stalking across the room towards her. “There is no other way.”
“There is always another way,” she snapped.
“No!!” Paul’s voice was almost a yell, and she cringed visibly. “I will not ask your Mother for anything. I can take care of you. We don’t need her, dammit!”
Closing her eyes against the fear that was beginning to well up in her, Madeline stepped back from his rampage. You can do this…It’s only a mission…
Paul was before her now, his hands grasping her arms tightly, his body blocking her from the mirror. It lasted less than a minute, but she opened her eyes and met his.
The anger wasn’t there. It was in his voice, it was in the power of his hands; but it wasn’t in his eyes. The fear calmed slightly, and she continued her act, struggling against his grip until he was finally forced to slap her across the face.
She stared at him in stunned silence as he turned her body so that her back was to the mirror. “Don’t sabotage this, Madeline,” he grunted, pushing her down onto the bed. “We’ll do this my way.”
Madeline lay where he’d tossed her, staring at the camera in the ceiling. Before she could think of moving, he was on top of her, his hips straddling hers, his hands working to undo the buttons on her dress. Her breath caught in her throat, the memories of her past flowing quickly to the forefront of her mind – Paul’s face replaced with another, angrier countenance.
“No,” she moaned, barely a whisper. It’s not real, her mind told her. It’s an act – a mission. Her subconscious held a precarious hold on the trust they’d built, using it as a foil against her growing anger and fear. She writhed below him, trying to free herself from his weight, but his hands pinned her arms, forcing her back against the mattress, his grip marking her skin.
“Don’t move,” he grunted, sitting back on her legs to unbutton his own shirt. For a moment, her naked chest was revealed to the camera above, and she resumed her struggles, almost succeeding in removing his body from atop hers. But just as quickly as she’d achieved her goal, she lost it again when Paul struck her across the face, driving her back against the mattress, her face stinging from the blow.
Tears forming, she shut her eyes tightly, focusing her mind, trying to keep herself from struggling away, or worse, from giving back as good as she got, and destroying the mission completely. It’s Paul, she thought, repressing the desire to knee him in the groin. It’s a mission.
But, that was the trouble: it was Paul. He was above her. The sting of his hand on her face had sent her mind reeling. His hands tugged roughly at her panties. They tore away the arms she had unconsciously folded over her bared breasts. His body kept hers pinned to the bed. It was his voice that whispered in her ear…
Madeline’s eyes shot open. Paul was above her still, his hands cupping her face, a sheen of tears glistening in his eyes. He broke their shared gaze, leaning in to whisper in her ear once again. “Trust me,” he said softly. “I’m sorry….”
She closed her eyes again, feeling tears flow down her temples to mingle with her hair. She wanted to trust him. Wanted to ignore the broken promises.
But all she could feel was the pain…
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