I understand this may be a lovely thrill for some but the main purpose is to give authenticity to what Barnabas has to go through in terms of Maggie's kidnapping and her being Josette Dupres. It should provide some startling discoveries. Often I pick up from fans how Josette is lovable but not adequately developed. What with the research I do on Josette Dupres, the more I find good reason for Her to be the woman of his true desire and longing. She has amazing qualities indeed, and blended with the other two characters, performed by the same actress, She shines even brighter. I wanted to see how they would handle this together, and do what they've always done, "Endure". :) Thanks
Healing Part One: Shackled
A tickle along my ribs finally awoke me. Anything I'd worn she must have removed. When I reached my arm down from my head my wrist was yanked back with a rattling and I could feel the sturdy cuff of metal holding me, not tightly but enough to know I wouldn't be going far. I tried to move my feet. Same sensation around my ankles. One sheet covered me but that was being removed from my chest by her silhouette in the dark. Her form and face becoming clearer now that qualms of what was to come began rising from my center.
I knew this would happen to me sooner or later. I'd been hoping it was sooner, but my bride can be very surprising and I'd have her no other way. Perhaps Josette Dupres in her original form would never have been so extreme, but I knew with everything we'd gone through, and what I'd put her through in her other incarnations, I deserved whatever was coming to me and it was worth enduring just to know she was mine and I was hers.
However, I cannot deny I found some thrill here within her room. So many times I'd wanted her back, and promised myself I'd go through whatever torture was necessary to have her again. Now was the time to make good on that promise. And no, it did not remind me whatsoever of times I'd been chained before. Those memories were very far from my mind. What came to me in some slow occurrences were times when I'd kidnapped my poor bride, times we'd gone through together and separated with so much agony. What had I done to her when she'd disobeyed me? I cannot say. I'm sure I could recall it if I tried but it scared me so now to look back on it. Had I been so terrible? Yes I had. Would she return the favour? Oh yes, indeed she would.
"Barnabas...?" I heard her sweet voice call my name. Presumably she was beside me, so I tried to turn, but I barely could. My wrists were held in cuffs and my legs had little give. "Oh, dear," I thought, "Josette had requested some very solid craftsmanship on her new bed, didn't she?" These fixtures to the woodwork made it quite easy to understand which parts of the furniture held the chains to which she had shackled me. I heard the rattling of the metal as I tried to move. My eyes had not adjusted to the darkness. The fire was in embers and the candles blown out.
"So, my love," I said, "it has come."
"Yes," I could hear her smile from the dark, "any last requests?"
"Please," I uttered, "assure me that the door is locked."
"It is," she said lowly, and then I listened as the padding of her bare footsteps wandered to the door, twisting the handle so that I could hear the metal noises of it stalling as she attempted to open it against the closure. Ah, at least of this I can be thankful.
"Would you like to know what's going to happen? Or would you like to be surprised?" she asked, the softness in her voice creating a strange torment to my soul.
"What do you think I deserve?" I asked her.
"Well," she said, as her footsteps came closer, "that's the question, isn't it? Perhaps knowing will make it worse for you? Or perhaps not knowing exactly what's going on in the dark?"
I heard her feet shift, and then a rustling noise. A hard noise like rocks, or... Next I heard a very light squeak, something heavy being lifted and then put down closer to the bed, the rustling sound again like a bucket being placed on the floor. But a bucket of what?
I saw her silhouette lean down, a red glow from the embers around her. A very light, short nightdress, I believe. Something very sheen and soft. The thought of that comforted me as I lay there prone to suffer. The rustling noise as she reached down into the receptacle did not comfort me. The sound like when we'd shared the hang over cures that one morning ages ago.
Ice.
"You never did tell me what you were going to do. Remember, Barnabas?" she asked, again, softly, sweetly, with angelic wonder and grace, while plotting such deviltry.
"What..." I faltered, "what did I tell you?"
She knelt before the bed and stroked my face, "You said I would be punished. You repeated it over and over again. It drove me mad. It terrified me. You would never tell me what you would do, but you kept threatening me. That same word: punish." Then she breathed, almost a moan, "Ah, it has made me so sad to remember all of this time."
She glided her fingers over my lips which allowed me to kiss them, my only offering so far, "But tonight?" I asked with trepidation.
"Tonight?" she asked, "no. It certainly doesn't make me sad tonight, mon demón."
Automatically I attempted to reach for her with my left hand, there was some allowance of movement but I couldn't do it.
"I see," she told me, "too frightened to move at all. I did provide a little give, Barnabas. You aren't held tightly."
I exhaled gratefully and managed to touch her face. My skin tingled, not in anticipation but in this moment of safety. She hadn't hurt me yet. I tried to maintain a present mind.
"Will it make any difference to you, my love?" I asked.
"Will what, Barnabas?"
"That I'm willing... and... I am waiting..."
"Well," her smile an echo in the shadowy light, taking the back of my hand to her cheek, "some might say it defeats the purpose... but I... understand."
Then she let my hand drop as she stood up, the echo of the chains rattling behind my ear. No power betwixt God or Man could hold me in this grip as I was so held this night before her, my most giving, lovely bride.
She undraped the sheet from my lower half and a chill fell around my helplessness. "Let it come," I prayed, "let me endure what I must... for Her."
She stood above me. A chunk of burning log dropping in the hearth and sparking a semi-light in the dark, giving me a glimpse of her beautiful brown eyes, and her velvet lashes. She just stood there, making me wait in loss and wonderment of her beauty. Her pause stopped my wondering.
"I know it wasn't all your fault," she said taking my hand, "all the terrible things you put me through. But... all our time opposing each other in ignorance, I remember those little portraits."
"Josette," I breathed, not daring to move, "what can you mean?"
"People look at you in your eloquence, in your stolid manner and I admit I do as well. But I know the boy. I know he's in there still. I can look far into the dead centre of your eyes and find him. I know you're scared and I know who you're scared of and what."
"Who?" I asked, confused.
"No one outside this room..." she warned, no longer stabbing the dark with her words, but stabbing me.
"Will nothing tame my Josette?" I spoke, uncertain who I was asking.
"We can only wonder," she said, removing her hand from mine, "As you punished me well enough in the past, I'd have to have something in return for all of that."
I felt her hand course up my leg and fears of castration entered my mind. It wasn't nearly so bad, but she could make me speculate how close she was getting without truly causing any damage. All I could do was lie there, lie there and pray for her tender mercies. I would not object, I deserved whatever my Josette had to give me. She was under no spell but her pride to have won. I could do nothing more but welcome it... and of course... flinch.
To be continued in Healing Part Two: Punishment...