Chapter 2    I am lured by the bait

 

Gradually my life settled down again over the next few days and I successfully blocked out the sordid sex scene I had voyeured, as well as my disquieting phone conversation with Mark. I focused on the one thing that gave me what I thought was total fulfilment. Making money.

 

However I found myself almost dreading the morning, two weeks later, when I would again need to check if Mark and Diane had paid their rent on time. Quietly I scanned my bank statement three times, hoping that I had just missed the transaction. But the payment had definitely not gone through. Of course I was angry, but I was also concerned. Mark’s enquiring words again registered in my mind. What if….? What if they had know?

 

I resolved to wait one more day, but the following day saw no payment being made. Surely they would pay it today, I rationalised. They had after all been only 2 days late last time. However on the 3^rd day there was still no payment. I threw caution to the wind, as anger overcame my reticence to provoke another incident.

 

By the time I dialled the phone number at 17 Wisteria Lane I was fuming, and if I could have reached down the phone I swear I would have strangled the person who answered on the other end. As it turned out, it was Diane who answered. She sounded so sweet and innocent, with her child-like voice making her sound much younger.

 

Despite myself, I softened my tone slightly. At least I would not have to deal with the belligerent Mark.

 

However I was still direct and to the point, “The rent, young lady, is 3 days overdue. This is the second time this month, and is totally unacceptable.” I found myself stopping short of making threats

 

“Gee, I am so sorry Mrs Bentley. We have been so busy studying for exams we have not been able to get to the bank to deposit it into your account. We have the money here. If you come around this evening you can collect it from us.”

 

“Young lady. I do not run around collecting rent from my tenants”, I stated doggedly. “It is your responsibility to have it in my account on time. I did request you set up an automatic bank deduction.”

 

“Oh, please,” she pleaded, “Just this one time. We promise it will not happen again.”

 

Almost incredibly, I found myself considering her request. How could I even consider lowering my standards to this level? Yet, I did have to go out tonight to collect some papers from a colleague, and I would be in the vicinity of 17 Wisteria on my way home.

 

Not for the first time I found my mind befuddled when dealing with Mark and Diane.

 

I hesitated, and then took a deep breath. “Very well then. I will collect it but you had better understand this is definitely the one and only time. I will be there around 8.30pm. Please have the full rent ready for me to collect.”

 

“We certainly will Mrs Bentley, and, hey, thanks. Mark and I really appreciate it.”

 

I felt like I had been dealing with a child, and for some unfathomable reason found myself smiling.

 

For the remainder of the day I found myself dwelling on my arranged meeting with Mark and Diane. No matter how pragmatic and unemotional I tried to be, visions of a naked Diane tied spreadeagled to the bed kept flashing before my eyes. Along with Mark wielding that nasty little whip onto Diane’s pubes.

 

By the time I pulled up outside 17 Wisteria Lane at 8.30pm precisely, I could not believe how nervous and uncomfortable I felt. I tried to reason with myself, but my emotions were in turmoil. It was as if someone had thrown them into a blender and turned it on. I resolved to march up to the door, get the rent in my hand, and get out of the place as quick as I could, and with the minimum of conversation.

 

As I knocked on the door I almost prayed that it would be Diane who answered, but to my dismay it was Mark. For a moment we just stared at each other, before Mark stepped aside and with an exaggerated sweep of his arm invited me inside.

 

“I am in a hurry,” I muttered with contempt. “Please get me the rent and I will be gone.”

 

Mark walked over to a tin and pulled out a sum of money and began laboriously counting it. My nervousness returned and I began fidgeting, and I tried to mask it by making polite conversation.

 

“Diane’s out, is she?” I enquired, trying to sound casual

 

“No, she is home. Just a little tied up.”

 

“Oh” I responded

 

It was not until Mark looked at me over his shoulder with a smirk on his face that the double meaning of his response hit me. I immediately felt my neck flush but tried to show no outward sign of any emotion.

 

I looked away to avoid eye contact with Mark, and then glanced impatiently at my watch. “Hurry please. I am already late.”

 

Mark counted the money again, for what seemed to be the 3^rd time. Finally he turned to me and extended his hand containing the money. I walked over to him and took hold of the money, but he would not release it.

 

Our eyes locked, and I snarled, “Give me my money, you asshole.”

 

“Diane is being punished tonight for not finishing her exam report on time.”

 

His comment hit me like a sledgehammer and it took me a moment to get my wits back into some semblance of order

 

“What on earth do you mean?” I asked indignantly

 

“You know what I mean, Norah. Oh you don’t mind if I call you Norah, do you? You know what I mean because you have already witnessed her being punished once before. Haven’t you Norah?” Mark raised one eyebrow in an inquiring manner.

 

Confirmation that he knew I had watched them made me feel physically sick, and for a moment I felt faint. I struggled to control myself. I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. Almost before I realised it Mark had released his hold on the money, but then took hold of my arm. He began to lead me down the hallway and I found myself following like a mindless robot.

 

“No.” I protested. “Stop.” However even as I protested I allowed myself to be led further down the hallway until we were standing outside the closed bedroom door.

 

“No, I must leave. I want to leave. Please!” I pleaded to Mark.

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

“You are wrong. I want to leave. Now!” I pulled my elbow away from his grip, took a step back from, but went no further.

 

“Lets do a deal, Norah.”

 

“A deal?” My voice sounded like a pathetic squeak as I struggled to form my word coherently.

 

“Come into the bedroom and see Diane tied up and naked. I love for others to see her. It makes her so humiliated. Then if you want to leave before I punish her then you can.”

 

I shook my head from side to side defiantly

 

“No”, I mumbled, but still I made no effort to retreat. “I must be leaving…..”

 

Mid-sentence Mark swung the bedroom door open, and suddenly the words would no longer form, and came out as a groan. Before me was the beautiful, athletic, totally nude body of young Diane. She was blindfolded. She was kneeling on the bed with her buttocks high in the air, her back was arched, and her head rested on a pillow. Ropes tightly secured her legs around her thighs and ankles. Her arms were pulled viciously behind her and secured at her elbows and wrists.

 

For a long while Mark just let me soak up the scene from the safety of the hallway. No one spoke. I was transfixed by the scene confronting me.  Eventually Mark came to me, gently took my arm again and led me into the bedroom. I offered no resistance.

 

He stood me beside the bed, then moved over to the stricken Diane, took hold of her shoulders and lifted her so she was kneeling upright on the bed. Her arms were secured so tightly it looked as if they would be dislocated at the shoulder. This had the affect of lifting her chest cavity and thrusting her breasts forward luridly. I could not believe how erect her small nipples were. I was sure I had never seen my own anywhere near as erect. Again I admired her beautifully athletic body with its absolutely flat tummy and well defined muscle structure. I actually wanted to compliment her on her beautiful body, but somehow it seemed so inappropriate. Also I doubted that my mouth was capable of forming words coherently.

 

For several minutes I scanned her body, and she remained as still as a statue. The only noise in the room was the sound of heavy breathing coming from Diane and myself.

 

Again Mark gently took my arm and led me to the end of the bed.

 

“Bend over again” he instructed his secured goddess.

 

Diane bent at the waist and awkwardly placed her head on the pillow again. Without being asked she arched her back and thrust her buttocks high in the air. I was now looking straight down the cleft of her firm, round buttocks. Her puckered pink anus was clearly in view. Her vaginal lips squeezed into view between her tightly secured legs. Although I dare not admit it, even to myself, it was one of the most erotic sights I had ever seen. And this realisation frightened me.

 

I stared like a mindless idiot. The sight was like a drug that I could not get enough of. I was only too aware that I was again flushed and my brow was sweating. I was so focused on the sight that I was only vaguely aware of Mark addressing me.

 

“Pardon?” I enquired, forcing myself to look away from Diane.

 

“Punishment time.” Mark repeated himself

 

“Punishment time?” I repeated like the village idiot

 

“Yes, Norah. I am now going to punish Diane.” He then moved to a set of drawers, opened the top one and after rummaging around he pulled out a wicked looking whip. This was different than the one I had seen him using to punish Diane’s pubic mound. This whip was about the same circumference but much longer. Mark swung his arm above his head threateningly, making the whip whistle as it sliced through the air.

 

My eyes widened at the sight of the whip. I felt disgusted that Mark would even think of using such a terrible device on Diane. What right did he think he had to punish her in such a manner? I felt like screaming at him that no woman deserved to be treated in this way. But I didn’t. I just stood. My eyes moving from the whip, to Diane’s buttocks, then back to the whip.

 

“Are you leaving?” Again that quizzical look from Mark

 

I had to leave. I wanted to leave. But my legs felt as if they were riveted to the floor.

 

“Are you leaving, or staying to watch Diane be punished?”

 

I forced myself to focus on Mark. I stared deeply into his eyes. It was hard to comprehend they were the eyes of a nineteen year old. At 42 years of age I was old enough to be his mother. This thought caused another dose of self-loathing to course through my veins. What the hell was I doing standing in this room.

 

I lifted my nose into the air and muttered with contempt, “I am going. You are sick. You are both sick. I strongly suggest you get psychological help.”

 

But even as I spat out my condemnation I could not resist one last glance at Diane’s firm buttocks perched high in the air, then a quick glance at the whip, then back to the naked buttocks.

 

“Well?” Mark asked pointedly

 

I turned to stare at him once more. He now held the whip in front of himself with both hands, repeatedly flexing it into an arc. Tension radiated through the room.

 

“I think you should leave.” Mark pointed the whip in the direction of the door.

 

I tried to settle my breathing. I tried to think clearly. Bile began to rise in my throat as the realisation came to me that I actually did want to see Diane punished, as much as it disgusted me and was against all my principles. I felt my shoulders slump forward in defeat.

 

Quietly I muttered, “No”

 

“No what, Norah?”

 

“I want to stay.” It crushed me to admit such a fact to this teenage boy.

 

“Why do you want to stay, Norah?”

 

I could no longer look Mark in the eyes, and I glanced haplessly at the floor

 

“I want to see Diane punished.” I could not believe those words had come from my own mouth

 

“Good girl.” Mark smiled triumphantly

 

He strode to the end of the bed. I could see Diane’s body beginning to twitch in nervous anticipation. Her buttocks were clenched tight, almost causing her anus to disappear into the void.

 

“Why are you being punished tonight Diane?” Mark enquired

 

“Because I failed to finish my assignment on time, sir.” Diane’s voice was muffled by the pillow her face was buried in.

 

“Correct. Tonight you will receive six lashes. I want you to count each one. Now relax you buttocks.”

 

Diane mumbled an affirmative response as she relaxed her buttocks. Without ceremony the whip whistled through the air and connected with her left buttock. Diane groaned in agony, pumping her back up and down in an obvious attempt to dissipate the pain. A deep red welt was already clearly visible.

 

In a surprisingly strong voice she mumbled, “One sir, thank you sir.”

 

Out of corner of my eye I saw Mark raise the whip again and I tensed, waiting for the contact. However he just held it above his head for what seemed like an eternity. Diane’s body was arched in anticipation. I admired her courage. I knew I could never front up to such a beating.

 

Finally the whip whistled through the air for a second time, connecting viciously with her right buttock. Again Diane groaned loudly. But before she had time to recover and count the stroke Mark raised the whip again quickly and lashed her in quick succession with two further strikes.

 

Diane groaned and sobbed loudly and her body bucked about on the bed as it tried to instinctively avoid the blows. She rolled onto her side, then frantically tried to pull herself up to the kneeling position again. But with her arms secured so tightly behind her back this simple act was made very difficult. Eventually she repositioned herself, and without hesitation she arched her back down and drove her buttocks into the air. She was still sobbing quietly.

 

“Two sir, three sir, and four sir. Thank you sir.”

 

Mark smiled in what seemed to be genuine admiration. “Good girl.”

 

He raised his arm, and the fifth and sixth blows fell in quick succession. Bravely Diane counted them out between sobs.

 

My mouth was wide open, and for the first time I realised dribble was running out of the corner of my life. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve, then wiped the sweat from my forehead. My heart was pumping so fiercely I felt light-headed, and was sure I was going to faint. With a drunken swagger I made my way down the hallway, opened the front door, and took in gulps of the cool fresh air. Gradually my head cleared and I made my way to my car. I realised I was clutching tightly to the rent money, and threw it carelessly onto the passenger seat. Some of the money floated onto the floor, but I left it there. Although I did not fully understand it, I somehow sensed that my superficial, money-orientated values were going to be challenged by something that was both frightening but exciting.