Patricia's penalty

She arrived just a little after six am. She looked tired, but dressed in jeans and a cropped t-shirt. The dog collar was locked with a padlock dangling clearly in front of the clasp.

Pats eyes where red and puffy, she'd been crying. Words failed me and her, but actions proved there was still life in us. She dived into my arms. Held me like I was the last person on the plant.

When she disengaged, she looked me on the eye, and something in those pretty green eyes frightened me. Slowly, gently, she walked up the stairs to our bedroom. The door closed and a few moments later I heard the shower run.

My heart was breaking as I stood outside the bedroom door, almost afraid to enter. And then the questions came in my head like an overpowering command to find answers. Something stopped me from opening the door, going ballistic, in my head the questions where running free, but the contents of that last text message came into my head. Don't.....

" Coffee?" I asked,

"Yes please" her voice soft, cracked tired.

I poured two mugs, set just the way we always liked it. Set them on the breakfast bar, as pat came and gingerly sat on a stool. Our eyes met, but fear was in hers. I opened my mouth to speak, but she silenced my mouth with a single fingertip.

"You need to get ready and go to work" her words tired, frightened, soft. " you need to go to work" and she sipped the mug, as if the fluid inside was an anesthetic. So I'll comply, I'll obey, I'll go to work.

Showered and a fresh suit, keys phone, cards to get in, and pats kiss as I left the house of horrors behind me. I realised, that she was silent because everything said inside the house was being listened to, maybe even watched. Who ever was doing this, to us, was listening.

By the time I had got to work, I had figured out that what ever this was about, she was reluctantly agreeing to it out of fear. So until we worked out a way forward, we do as we are told. I logged unto my terminal, and started my day.

Lunch time brought a single text message. My daughter Meg, was at college, she wanted to visit this weekend, I could not risk her getting involved so I blew her off with a tummy bug. I felt like shit when I texted her this. But I didn't dare her getting involved in what ever this was.

End of trading brought that alarm, and I closed down the terminal and grabbed my coat, almost at the lift when the text came.

"I love you, I am sorry, press play when you get home." It was from Patricia, and my stomach almost rejected the contents. As I drove home. I searched the house, nothing out of place, until I got to the bedroom.

The large screen was filled once more with a hooded wife, this time stretched in a star shape, naked save the collar and hood. The image was from behind.showing her arse, back and legs, held outstretched by what appeared to be leather cuffs.

Swallowing I pressed play. The image once more came to life, as a black line stripped her back, the red welt raising instantly, as the scream filled the room. After what seemed like a lifetime, " One thank you" her words ragged as the second whip mark raised a angry welt on my wives back and snaking to her right bun cheek.

The scream that followed is etched in my mind as ever a sound could be. " Two thank you " on and on it went as I found myself crying watching her body react and my wife scream in pain.

Then it stopped, she was at twenty strikes, her back looked like a map of red roads, not cut the skin, but is damn close. All I wanted to do was find her, rescue her. Save my wife.

The text came as I sat there watching the screen, " she was punished for you. Your daughter comes this weekend. Fix this now, and we will release her by morning, fail and she fails, obey"

I shook as I texted Meg, asking her what time she wanted to come home? , and of course we would be fine by Friday. I put the phone down as the screen came to life, my wife was being let down from her hanging star prison, helped onto the floor, by a much older woman, also naked, save for a hood, a dog collar, and a deep red hair under the edge of her hood.

She helped my wife into what looked like a hot tub, helped her into soothing water. And from the noises, both where crying under their leather masks. As was I.

I had betrayed my daughter, brought her into what ever the fuck this was, and my wife, oh my wife. I wiped my eyes after the tears stopped, as the screen went blank, the older woman was bathing my wife, who was in obvious pain.

The text read," Patricia will be home, tomorrow morning, she will be sore, you will follow these simple instructions :- you will not talk about this to her or anyone else, or I will know. You will not contact the police, you will comply with texted instructions. Fail and She fails. Obey and this will all be over soon. "

It took me ten minutes to pour my coffee, every sound made me jump, every jump, I heard those screams, I saw that back, and I cried.