A Crossing of Paths

Chapter Seven

Melissa returned home feeling rather energized from having solved some, if not all, of the mystery of her neighbor, and unwittingly from the dreamless sleep she had enjoyed the night before. The evening was now advancing, so she prepared herself a light dinner, broke open a bottle of frangelico, and pondered her strange visit with the man called Sur. Of all the people she had ever encountered in her life, this one had to be the most intriguing one yet. She knew there were many more secrets to be revealed about him, if she were lucky, so she reminded herself to fashion a return visit to retrieve her basket.
After dinner, she tuned into the eclectic internet radio station she enjoyed and ran her bath. With the help of the warm embrace of the spa jets, the wine, and the music, she was soon ready to turn in for the night, but not before she attended to the tingle she was now feeling down below, beneath the frothing bubbles of the bath. By the time she was thru, she was feeling no pain, and stumbled zombie-like into her bedroom, shucking her clothes onto the floor and crawling naked between the sheets, out like a light bulb in less than a minute......
And right back where he had secured her, bent over the beam, legs splayed out, arms spread wide, her head held up by the chain attached to her hair. Her breath was ragged, beads of sweat beginning to form on her brow, as she felt the sting of his flogger across her ass. She jerked again, feeling the tug of the clamps and restraints, but not quite as violently as before, almost accepting the assaults with a resignation reserved for a sore joint or tired feet. But the anger and fear were beginning to overcome her curiosity as to what his motives were, and she twisted her face sideways to scream back at him, "I suppose you expect me to start begging you to fuck me or something, is that it, you fucking pervert?!"
"Fuck you? You honestly think I have any interest in your scrawny little ass? I can assure you, little girl, I've got better things to do with my time than getting my rocks off on some whiny little brat!" She felt the sting of the flogger as he punctuated that last with a healthy swipe, and chocked off a sob, her eyes already beginning to water from the pain and discomfort. "Then why, dammit, why are you doing this to me?"
He was suddenly next to her ear, speaking softly, gently....."Does it hurt, my dear? Can you admit the discomfort of your bondage is robbing you of your control? Admit it, something about it speaks to you, or you would have used that safe-word by now........and what is this? Is this a tear running down your face? When's the last time you felt a tear, my dear? When? Tell me....."
"I'm not a cold hearted bitch, dammit, I've cried before! You're hurting me, why wouldn't I cry, god dammit!" The words came out broken up with sobs, as she fault against them.
"Answer the question, Melissa, when did you last cry, for yourself or someone else? When was it Melissa, tell me..." His voice remained calm, but insistent.
The answer was clear, and it struck her harder than the flogger had. She couldn't remember. She shook her head attempting to clear her mind, only to be reminded of the clamps in her hair and elsewhere as she tried to shift her position. "I don't know, I can't think like this, how could anyone? Please stop it, I don't deserve this......" and Melissa could no longer hold back, as the tears and body wracking sobs shook her body.
Again, the firm but gentle voice....."Melissa, your Father died, why did you not cry for him? You didn't cry when he died, you didn't shed a tear at the funeral, and not one has come forth since. Why not, Melissa, tell me. Did you really believe that crap your mother told you about being strong for Daddy, for making him proud by not making a scene? Why did you allow her to rob you of your grief, Melissa? Why?"
She twisted about and stared him in the face, painfully, a shocked look on her face. How could he know about her Father, and how her Mother had browbeat her and her little brother into being staunch little soldiers, all for her husbands sake? She had loved her Father dearly, but he had always told them to mind their mother, and she always did what Daddy told her to do. How could this sick bastard know about that?
He struck again, not with the whip but the pain of his words,however gentle....."And what about Daniel, my dear, did he tell you not to grieve for him as well? Was Daniel such a hard ass he wouldn't let you grieve for him either? Tell me, Melissa, did you not love Daniel enough to grieve for him?"
Melissa was staggered by his accusations, yet could not answer them, could not come up thru the pain and the tears and refute him. Perhaps being obedient to her Father could have allowed her Mother to submerge her feelings the way she had, but what was her excuse with Daniel? No one had taken it upon themselves to tell her not to grieve, not to cry, not to let the loss she had suffered take it's natural course? What WAS her excuse, and how could she come to be here having to answer to a stranger, who had stripped away all her control and was even now bringing forth the pain she had avoided all these years and forcing her to deal with it? She did not have time to regain control and try to answer the questions, for it all faded rapidly away as it always had, leaving her wide awake, soaked in sweat, with strange reddish marks on her wrists and ankles, and light pink streaks fading into her skin all over.......leaving her for the first time frightened by what unknown thing had happened to her in the night.