I know it has been far overdue for this update, and all I can do is apologize. I have had some bad trouble with writer's block. All I can do is hope some of you haven't lost your interest, and I look forward to input. Thanks again to everyone who has been reading. :)
"Madeline!" Judge Turpin yelled out sharply from within the bedroom, the sound of his voice making Madeline tense up. What was it now? It seemed as though no matter what she did, she was constantly irritating him these days. A year had come and gone since they said their vows, and while Madeline had grown to love Judge Turpin, the spark they once had seemed to already be dying. In fact, it had gotten to the point where she slept in a seperate bedroom from him, and no longer called him by his first name. She tried so hard to be the best wife she could, but it only seemed to make things worse, leaving her caught between a rock and a hard place.
"Yes, my lord?" she asked as she walked into the master bedroom.
"You told me you were going to have my clothes for today taken care of," he growled, a deep frown on his face as he held up the still wrinkled and dirty outfit. "I told you how important it was for me to have this ready!"
"I'm sorry, sir. I asked Nadine to take care of it as she always does, but apparently she either forgot or ran out of time," Madeline explained, hoping his temper would subside soon.
"And when you noticed it was still not done, why did you not take care of it yourself?" he demanded, and throwing the clothes at her added, "What good are you, you stupid girl? You cannot even complete one small task? You're lucky I don't throw you out in the streets where you belong! Now go and get me an outfit I can actually wear. It's the least you can do."
"Yes, sir," she whispered, her head hung in an attempt to hide her tears which threatened to fall.
"Get that look off of your face immediately. I haven't beaten you, and I give you everything you could ever need. You have no reason to cry," he snapped when he noticed her expression, and she quickly nodded, taking a deep breath as she looked through his closet, praying she found something he would consider acceptable. Finally choosing a deep blue set of trousers and matching jacket, she carried it over to the bed and quickly brought over to it a pair of black boots. As Madeline straightened up, Judge Turpin grasped her face and forced her to look up at him. Looking at her for a long moment, he finally murmured, "That's my good girl." Letting her go, he added as he removed his night shirt, "Now go and leave me be. I must be on my way soon."
Madeline nodded, and gave a small curtsy before quickly exiting the room, grateful to have the day alone to do as she pleased. She was grateful he at least had plenty of books for her to read, and help her get her mind off of the unhappy life she was leading...
) ) ) )
"Sir, are you alright?" Beadle asked, bringing Judge Turpin out of his thoughts.
Bringing his gaze from the window to his assistant, Judge Turpin replied, "Yes, I'm fine. I just have a lot on my mind these days."
Really, all Judge Turpin could think about was Madeline. He knew he was being rotten to her, and that his attitude was nothing short of atrocious. Why was he doing this? She had done nothing to deserve this sort of treatment. Yet, all he could do was be a monster to her.
Was it the stress of work?
Was it the stress of her father begging him for money?
...Or perhaps, he had simply grown too comfortable with having a wife. It never seemed to matter how much he cared for the woman he became interested in; after a certain period of time, it was as if a switch went off in his brain, and instead of showing the love he felt, he showed a hate which in reality was not there. He knew it was why he lost his first wife, and had to resort to the arrangement which brought Madeline into his life.
"Don't ruin this marriage, Joseph. You need her," he thought to himself, and noted just how strong his feelings for her were. He had never been good at showing affection, or any emotion other than anger for that matter, but he could not deny how much she meant to him. Deep down, he knew he would lose her if he kept up his ways.
Suddenly in dire need of a stiff drink, Judge Turpin stood up. "Would you care to join me for a drink, Beadle?" he asked the man sitting in the room with him.
"I would be honored, sir," Beadle replied as he stood up as well, and the two of them headed to the bar down the street to wash away the worries of the day.
( ( ( (
Madeline had just gotten settled in bed, comfortable under her warm cover and ready for slumber to overtake her, when she suddenly heard the front door slam loudly. At hearing this, her entire body tensed, for it meant one of two things: either it was an intruder, or Judge Turpin had finally came home. Her heartbeat quickened when she could hear the heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, and squeezed her eyes shut when the handle to her door suddenly turned. Turning her back to the door, she pulled the cover up over her head, and hoped it was an intruder, because an intruder did not have a key to unlock her bedroom door.
A sinking feeling came to the pit of her stomach when she heard the door being unlocked, and slowly opened by her husband. She kept her eyes shut, hoping if he thought she was asleep he would go back to his own room, and held her breath when she felt the sag of the mattress as someone got into bed with her. His breathing was heavy and hot on her neck as he leaned over her, the strong scent of liquor letting her know he had been drinking and was more than likely drunk.
"Madeline," he said in a loud whisper, shaking her in a not very gentle manner. Not in the mood to even see him, much less make love, she gave no response, hoping he would give up. Doing the exact opposite, he pulled her onto her back, and suddenly was over her, and roughly pulled her nightgown up to her waist.
Unable to pretend any longer, her eyes flew open, and she exclaimed, "What are you doing?"
He grinned. "I knew you weren't sleeping," he slurred, reaching back down to unbutton his britches.
"Sir, no," she protested as calmly as possible, and gently tried to stop him.
"What do you mean, 'no'?" he inquired.
"I'm not in the mood to do this tonight, my lord. Please...perhaps tomorrow?"
"I'm not waiting until tomorrow," he stated, and she let out a cry of surprise when he suddenly shoved two fingers inside of her.
"Please...please stop..." she pleaded, pushing on his shoulders, but despite everything, what he did still felt good, and she could feel herself reacting to his actions.
"I don't think you want me to," he murmured, bringing his hand up to reveal the wetness on his fingers, and before she had any time to react, he was inside her, moving quickly and deeply. "Oh Madeline," he moaned loudly, squeezing one of her breasts hard.
"No, sir, I don't want this," she once more protested, again trying to push on him, but when he painfully pinned her arms down over her head, she knew there was no stopping this, and looking over at the dark window by her bed, tears slid down her face as she waited for it to end. Closing her eyes, she tried to stop the building pleasure which came unwillingly, but her efforts were in vain. Her breathing grew shallow as the inevitable grew close, and she bit her lip hard when an orgasm hit her strong, leaving her feeling used and dirty.
Shortly after, he let out one more shuddering moan as his own pleasure overtook him, and she could feel the hot rush inside of her as he came. "You are too good," he panted, and gave her a sloppy kiss before rolling over onto his back, and promptly falling into a deep sleep.
"What if this is it? What if this is the moment in which we conceive our first child?" she thought to herself, and once more began to silently weep as he snored, her small body shaking with each sob. "I can't do this anymore..." she told herself, and once she was able to calm herself, she cautiously slid out of bed, and changed into the heaviest dress she owned. Slipping on shoes, and the warmest cloak she owned, she made sure he was still fast asleep before leaving the room.
As quietly as possible, Madeline made her way downstairs, and was successfully able to sneak out the front door into the bitter winter night. Despite the wind which seemed to chill her to the bone, she deeply breathed in the cold air, feeling as though as weight had lifted from off of her chest. Even if it were for just an hour, she needed to get away from the house, and pulling the hood up over her head, she made her way down the street.
Looking around, she was surprised by the number of people she saw also out and about, and could not help but to wonder why they were up at this time of night. Surely they were not having the same problem as she?
"Hello there, darling," a deep voice slurred behind her, and she whipped around, looking at the man standing there with wide eyes.
"D-Do I know you, sir?" she stammered, quickly beginning to regret the decision she had made.
"I was just wondering what you charge, angel," he asked, reaching out to touch her hair. It suddenly clicked with her what all of these people were doing, and she became angry with him for even thinking she was that kind of woman.
"I do not do that sort of thing, sir," she spat, and stuck her chin out. "Good night to you, sir," she added, and went to walk away, when he suddenly grabbed her and pulled her back to him.
"Where do you think you are going?" he growled, his face merely inches from hers. "I think you need someone to teach you some manners, little girl."
"Please, sir," she begged, trying to loosen his grip, but instead he tightened his painful grip and yanked her closer yet to him.
"Hey! What do you think you are doing?" another voice called out behind her, and the guy immediately let go. Turning around, she found a man even larger than the first standing there, an angry expression on his face.
"I-I was talking to her. Honest," the first man stammered, holding his hands up and backing away.
"Oh, were you?" the second man asked, stepping closer, and suddenly pulled Madeline to him. "You leave your hands off of my girls, understand? If I have another problem with you, there will be major consequences."
"Y-yes sir," the first guy quickly replied, and muttered an apology to Madeline before turning around and running away.
"Are you alright, miss?" the second guy asked once he was gone.
She looked back up at him, grateful that the angry expression on his face had ben replaced with that of concern. "Y-Yes...thank you," she replied.
"You're shivering. Here, drink this. It will help you warm up," he commented, and handed her a flask. She took it from him, grimacing when she smelled the heavy scent of liquor, and hesitated before taking a large gulp, grateful for the warm rush it brought to her insides. "Better?" he asked, and she nodded as she handed it back.
"What did you mean when you called me one of your girls earlier?" she inquired, the whiskey making her feel more bold.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I own a restaurant, and sort of implied you were one of my waitresses," he explained. With a shrug, he added, "It just came out, I was only trying to protect you. I hate seeing the scum which comes out at night try to take advantages of nice young ladies like you."
She smiled at this. "Well thank you."
He smiled back. "You're quite welcome. Say, are you hungry? Would you like something to eat? My restaurant is actually still open. You could even just come in to get warm for a bit, if you'd like. It's right up the road."
"That would be lovely," she replied, and the two of them made their way up the street. With each step, Madeline could feel her head growing fuzzier and fuzzier. Shaking her head, she tried to make herself think more clearly, but was unable to do so. Before she knew it, he was leading her into an establishment, and frowned when she found herself surrounded by women seducing men willing to pay for their attention. "Wh-where are we?" she slurred, and could feel herself sway a bit. "I...I don't..."
"Here, have a seat," the man offered, leading her further into the room.
The last thing she remembered before everything went black is falling back onto a couch, and hearing someone comment, "You found a good one, boss."