“So you say you can follow instructions, we will see.” The debate was over. It was the outcome that frightened Claire. A few hours ago he had been another person. Now the man standing before her was the same one who abused her so violently the first two nights of her stay. His grin wasn’t playful, it was ruthless. “Let’s start with you taking off your clothes.”
Doing her best to be obedient, Claire did as she was told and removed her clothes, starting with her shoes and ending with her sweater. Next he told her to lie down on the carpet, face first and keep her eyes down. She did and felt the plush carpet rough against her skin. The vulnerability of the position alarmed her, intensifying her trembling. She couldn’t see or hear his movements. Straining to listen she eventually heard his belt as it passed each loop. The first lash hit so unexpectedly that it made her scream out in agony and shock. She moved her hand to her mouth, bit down, and refused to scream anymore.
When she didn’t respond he turned her over, stood above her, and removed his tie and slacks. He didn’t say a word but watched for her reaction. Perhaps she was in shock. Whatever it was, Claire was unable to respond. She watched, knowing that whatever he chose to do would be bad. His hands forcibly moved her legs as she watched, disengaged as if in another dimension. The scene she saw was brutal and domineering. By the grace of God, she felt everything in a removed yet present fashion. She watched his actions and heard his demands. She was present, saw his expression, felt his body, smelled his skin, and tasted her shame. Yet she was somehow detached, not there. By the time he finished, her body exhibited various rug burns, and her hair was tangled and matted from the same lush carpet.
Anthony Rawlings callously stood and dressed. He paused for a moment, standing six feet above her, and then silently walked to the attached bathroom. There he combed his hair and replaced the tie he’d removed. Meanwhile, Claire sat in the middle of the room involuntarily shivering, holding her clothes, and silently weeping, unsure what to do.
Returning to the office he looked at her with disdain, his tone flat and cold. “You may go to your suite, clean yourself up, and get ready to demonstrate to me again your ability to follow instructions.”
Claire began to gather her clothes and dress when he added “Do not leave your suite until I decide. Your pass to roam is revoked.” Her mind was beyond comprehension, thinking outside of the box was more than she could handle. She remembered an agreement with herself for self-preservation, conceding to demands. Yet at this moment in time, Claire didn’t know or understand what she was doing, agreeing to, or being forced to do. She was lost and most likely suffering from shock. She only remembered his directives to go back to her suite and clean up.
Leaving his office she turned toward the grand staircase. Beyond the stairs through the magnificent foyer with the high ceiling Claire saw the double doors that led to the outside. They were tall and ornate. Without thinking she walked toward them, perhaps she should have run, but no one was around. The house was empty, like a museum. She could hear her heart pound in her ears as she approached the handle wondering if it would open. She wouldn’t learn. Suddenly, she heard the sound of shoes on the marble floor of the corridor. The footsteps didn’t sound rushed but determined and were getting closer. Claire quickly turned and began the ascent to the second floor. She didn’t look back down. She didn’t want to see the person that produced the footsteps, especially if that person would meet her gaze with a black-eyed stare. Instead, she walked toward her suite.
By the time she closed the door her internal monologue was in full gear. He actually hit me with his belt! My god! The man is mad. I have to find a way out of here!
At that moment, she didn’t search for an escape. Instead, she showered, redid her hair, her makeup, and put on another outfit. While she cleaned herself up she contemplated fleeing. Questions arose. Where would she go? How would she get there? How far to civilization? And what were her chances of success? And most importantly, if she failed, what would he do?
Her lunch arrived. Even though she missed breakfast she barely ate. She sat quietly on the sofa, read a book, stared into space, and waited for instructions. A feeling of helplessness settled into her chest like nothing she’d ever known.
About four thirty, the beep sounded, the door opened, and she dutifully obeyed. His demeanor, less malicious than before, seemed merely callous. The forbearance of the early morning and the tour were gone. Anthony had a goal for his actions. Claire needed to understand who was in control. She had done this to herself, he told her. She needed to do what she was told. But did she? No. He made her say, “No, I didn’t do what I was told.” And behaviors have consequences. Could she remember that? “Yes, I understand behaviors have consequences.”