“I’m not sure what to say, I’ve never been in this situation before.”

David placed his hand over hers………

“Do you want this marriage to continue, Juliette?”

There was a flash of anger in her look as she stared at David, but this soon gave way to the sort of look one might expect to see on the face of a person who has been about to push the wrong button, with disastrous consequences. Whilst the situation may not have been entirely her fault, there was no skirting around the fact that it was she who had brought the discussion to this point. Her tone softened, along with her look, which now exhibited more of the ‘little girl lost’ quality.

David decided that his gambling streak appeared to be going his way and so he persisted……

“I, believe, Juliette, that you want this marriage to succeed every bit as much as I do. Which is why I’ve decided to show you that I am not just a man of words. I mean to show you how much you mean to me and how I intend to give you unmistakable reassurance of that.”

There had been times when Juliette might have interpreted that latter statement as a portent of an addition to her jewellery collection, a trip to her favourite fashion house or an expensive weekend at a very special retreat, but this was not one of those times and a sudden apprehension seized her mind, to the point where she withdrew her hand abruptly and picked up the towel alongside her, as if she needed suddenly to cover herself. She adopted a ‘confused and a little afraid’ look and tried to keep her mind in check as it stumbled in the dark confusion of uncertainty.

David reached out and took hold of her hand again. Firmly, yes. Harshly, most definitely not.

“Juliette, I’m going to put my mark on you, to remind you of who has prior claim in your life.”

He hesitated before moving on, since he knew that the next statement could prove to be the coup de grâce to their relationship if it were misinterpreted. However, the prospect of what it would yield if his instinct were correct was so enticing that he had little difficulty in taking his final gamble of the day, the ‘all or nothing’ bet that sets the adrenal glands into overdrive.

Juliette was too preoccupied with her own uncertainties to note the minute beads of perspiration on David’s forehead. He leaned towards her and whispered quietly……….

“You will accept my closure of this incident or we will need to sit down and think seriously about our future. Do you understand, Juliette?”

There was a strange quality to David’s tone that created a huge tension between Juliette’s desire to flee, no matter where, and her fascination with the effect that his words were having on her mind – and, to her astonishment, on her body.

The Pain Files

Juliette’s stunned silence was as uncharacteristic as David’s previously unheard voice of complete authority in the situation. Acting still on his intuitions, David continued in the confidence that, on this occasion, Juliette’s silence really did give consent, even if she was not yet aware of what she was accepting from her husband.

Neither David nor Juliette was fully aware of the dynamics of what followed and it was almost as if they were actors working their way through an unrehearsed script.

Unrehearsed it may have been, but it was flawless.

Juliette’s mind had been taken over almost completely by her husband’s authority, leaving only her ‘stop’ button entirely within her control, yet she was so completely mesmerised by the combination of David’s voice, his manner, her mental and bodily responses – and the strangest of atmospheres that seemed to have descended upon the room – that she had neither the ability nor the inclination to reach for that button. She watched, almost in a trance, as David turned, sitting at the side of the bed, placed a pillow across his lap and then guided her firmly, but without even a hint of brutality, over the pillow. In her mind, she could see the vision that was now displayed below David’s gaze, as her bottom, encased in the dazzling white second skin that displayed every minute detail of the arousing pattern of intricate curves, was raised slightly above the remainder of her bent form. One of her hands rested on the thick carpet whilst the other sought comfort in the strong, moderately hairy right leg of her husband. Her feet were flexed upwards, the ball of each foot resting on the carpet. Silently, in astonishing compliance with David’s authority, she awaited what her husband chose to administer as ‘closure’. A part of her mind was asking what she – feisty, spirited, independent Juliette – was doing in this posture, awaiting her first-ever experience of a spanking, yet the lines of communication between the rebel centre and her body seemed to be completely jammed by David’s strong presence and control.

Even where there is no rebellion, the body still responds automatically to certain situations and stimuli and Juliette’s bottom was clenched as firmly as her teeth as she awaited her next step into the unknown. Stories she had heard at various times in her life, of spankings given to her friends in childhood and adult life, came flooding back. It was, therefore, something of a surprise to hear David explaining in his soft but authoritative voice why she was in this position and how he intended to put his long-term mark upon her mind, with only a very short-term, but sharp, impact upon her body. She was astonished to feel his right hand fold softly around her, just above the waistband of her knickers, whilst his left hand slid silently, warmly, comfortingly over the fabric of the soft undergarment, following every contour of her cheeks and hips and upper thighs. She became aware of a sensation almost of floating and of a curious mixture of apprehension and a most unusual relaxation filtering through her system.

David noted the visible change in the shape of Juliette’s bottom as she began to relax and felt her legs loosen from their tightly clenched tautness as the great muscles adopted an easier, more relaxed posture. He continued slowly, deliberately and gently, touching Juliette’s body with a great depth of love, almost reverence. He acknowledged to himself how surprising it was that there had been so little protest, but he resolved to continue with his plan. Gradually, he stopped stroking the bottom he adored and asked its owner to lift her hips. It was probably as much a surprise to her as it was to him that her compliance was almost immediate. Carefully, he slipped his hands inside the waistband and rolled the garment down until it formed a broad, white band across the very tops of Juliette’s thighs, exposing buttocks that showed only faintly the area normally enclosed within her bikini bottom.

Juliette had been lost in her own thoughts whilst David sat, as she supposed, reading quietly. She had welcomed him home warmly and sincerely upon his return from Birmingham Airport and there had been no lack of genuineness in her embrace and kiss, yet she knew that she was being torn, for there could be no denying that her affections were being drawn, in part, towards the alluring persona of this new light in her social life, a light so different from that safe light to which she had become accustomed. A light flecked with hints of mystery and wildness. It excited her and she was not entirely uncomfortable with that. Thus, it took three attempts before David’s quiet voice interrupted her reverie, as she was folding her jeans. Once the contact had been made, she turned and smiled at him.

“What’s up, Ike?”, she asked, in a voice that was pure delight to David, whose admiration of Isambard Kingdom Brunel had earned him this potentially misleading sobriquet.

David smiled and looked at her for a few moments, stirring very normally and healthily at the sight of his wife, standing, half turned towards him, wearing only a dazzling white bra and shorties – contrasting irresistibly with the golden brown of her diligently-maintained tan – and champagne-coloured hold-ups. The combination of curves, from her elegant shoulders down to her shapely legs, never failed to take David’s breath away – not that Juliette was always allowed to know this! David’s gaze focused momentarily on the beautifully enticing curvature of Juliette’s firm bottom, to which the tailored shortie knickers clung like a second skin. His mind was made up. Juliette was about to witness and experience something that would have one of two effects.

The Pain Files

As an engineer, David knew that there were, basically, two options available to someone faced with structural problems. Either repair them or take the structure apart and start again. The latter option, with the thought of losing Juliette, made David feel physically ill, but a new element was making its presence felt in his thought processes, a willingness to take a major gamble in order to save something very special. He suddenly realised how physicians and surgeons must sometimes feel, when going beyond the safe boundaries of established practice, in their endeavours to advance the cause of Medicine and Surgery. The nettle had to be grasped and there was no time to lose. Within a matter of days, the structural faults could prove irreparable.

David smiled at Juliette, put his magazine down and beckoned to her to come across and sit by him on the bed. She laughed and said something about his need to be patient and wait, as she had a busy day tomorrow and didn’t want to be late getting to sleep. Her continuing giggles and move towards the bathroom were halted in their tracks by David’s next question.

“Would Mark also have to wait, Sparks .. or should I say ‘Honeyvix’?”

Juliette was on the verge of demonstrating how she had acquired the first of those two nicknames when she wisely thought better of it and turned round, with an expression that was a strange mixture of astonishment, uncertainty, even a hint of contrition. David remained surprisingly cool – surprising even to himself – and beckoned once again.

“Come and sit here, please, there are things we need to talk about?”

Juliette tried a very brief foray into the ‘affronted party’ scenario and was about to accuse her husband of spying on her when the prudence function in her mind re-ran the mental record of how she had sent the email to Mark, signed ‘Honeyvix’. She flushed as she recalled how her finger must have slipped whilst entering the address and how she had not looked to check that it was the correct one before sending the message and deleting the copy from the ‘Sent items’ folder. A change of tactics was needed – urgently.

As Juliette’s arms flexed and her hands rested on her waist, just above the exquisitely feminine roundness of her hips, David realised that, thus far, the scenario was developing as he had predicted to himself. Now she would try the ‘what do you expect me to do on my own for days at a time’ routine, which had come up on previous occasions during pillow talk, although couched in different terms. Again, the prediction proved correct. David remained silent, and continued to beckon to his wife. For some reason, of which she was not entirely certain herself, her stubbornness refused to yield to reason and chose, instead, to persevere in ‘injured party’ mode. The stand-off continued, along with the monologue that formed the steadily weakening defence that Juliette was desperately trying to put together.

It was at this point that David faced his most difficult choice of all – when to fire the single torpedo which, if it went astray, could destroy all that he and Juliette had worked to establish over the past six years. In such matters, precise science has little part to play. Intuition is all. David pressed the ‘Fire’ button.

“Do you want this marriage to sink, Juliette?”

His wife knew instantly how serious the situation was, for David hardly ever used her real name – and then only for verbal rebuke. She had never had to face anything stronger than a well-reasoned, caring dressing down from the man who, she was confident, depended upon her as she, if she would only admit it, depended upon him. Somehow, though, she sensed that this was not to be such an occasion. The stakes were far higher and the torpedo was heading straight for her stubbornness hull. She had two choices…….. either she could call his bluff and walk out or she could take the gamble and see what lay ahead for the two of them. She shivered and her hands moved almost of their own accord, for no valid reason, to her bottom. She looked her husband straight in the eye and fixed him in her gaze. Her decision was made. Her position was held and the torpedo duly struck, with full impact, in a devastating broadside to her pride and stubbornness. For the first time in many years, a tear of remorse formed in the corner of her eye. Her left hand moved quickly to erase the evidence, but it was too late. Slowly, she walked towards David and sat on the bed beside him.

“OK, Ike, so you found out. What now?”

David remained silent for a few moments.

“What do you want to do now, Juliette?”

Juliette imagined, for a fleeting moment, that a quick and skilful back-hand volley might just catch David off guard and give her the edge, but she knew instinctively that she was wrong. She fidgeted with the duvet cover and looked down.

Just over twenty-four hours later, David was sitting in bed, reading a magazine, when Juliette entered their bedroom and walked across to the dressing table. She crossed her arms and took hold of the hem of her tailored white T-shirt, with her company’s logo embroidered neatly into the lower right-hand corner. As she often did, she watched her reflection as she pulled the garment up slowly and over her head, before shaking it out and taking it to the Ali Baba in the corner of the room, by the bathroom door.

David lowered his magazine and watched the ritual with interest, pondering the thought that this girl was still able to stimulate him as powerfully as she had ever done. Indeed, he was about to allow his thoughts to wander distractedly along that path when the more pressing need brought itself afresh to the forefront of his mind and his thoughts went back to the strange e-mail he had received that morning in his hotel in Nuremberg. At first, he had put the use of the wrong Christian name down to a lapse of memory, for Juliette had a cousin by the name of Mark, but as he had read the e-mail, it became apparent that the cousin had not been in her mind at all.

Lawyers would have had their time cut out trying to draw any conclusive proof of misplaced intentions on the part of Juliette, but a husband who suspects he may be losing his wife’s affections does not work to Judges’ rules and the instruction of his mind is not subject to the provisions set out in the Police & Criminal Evidence Act. Suspicion alone is enough to provoke a response from a man who feels threatened. This having been said, David’s response was not conventional – for one very good reason. His life revolved around Juliette and her happiness, so it would hardly have been appropriate to lay into her verbally and risk saying things that could do irreparable damage to their relationship. As for physical intervention, if this was to happen, it would have to be very different from that which he had witnessed throughout his childhood and adolescence, as his long-suffering but deeply loyal and devoted mother had tolerated, without demur, the violent manifestations of inadequacy to which his father -like his father before him – had always been prone, whenever things did not go entirely his way. David had been appalled at this, but had, at the urgent insistence of his mother, resisted the temptation to challenge his father. The abuse had, nevertheless, left mental and physical scars on both wife and son.

To many people, the options would have been either to leave home at the earliest date or to tackle the problem head-on. David, however, was not ‘most people’ and he had resolved to find a way of dealing this that would leave minimal problems in its wake. To an extent, he had been successful and information had actually reached the single neurone that usually controlled Bob Malence’ sad life, telling him that it might be wise not to provoke even a mild-mannered son, who might yet prove unpredictable and might not always acquiesce to his mother’s pacifying entreaties. Thus, once David had become a man, Bob had decided that the best way to cope with his inadequacy would be to pickle it in alcohol and hope that it would cease to trouble him. It had been an effective course of action, but one that had left him as inanimate on the inside as he was incommunicative on the outside. As for Juliette, it was difficult to tell which of the options would have been better, but at least she was no longer in physical pain.

Whilst David was processing these thoughts at lightning speed in his mind, a parallel process was in operation, seeking to work out a strategy for preventing the collapse of the most precious structure amongst all his designs. The conclusion that he reached, as he watched Juliette’s reflection in her mirror, as she lowered the zip fastener on her beautifully-tailored jeans, would have startled onlookers even more than news of the marriage had stunned the families.