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After her confession, he remained silent.
As his eyes bored into her, she quietly asked her own burning question. “How did you know that I would even be open to coming to a place like this, Markus?”
His face turned to sheer pain before he replaced it with a hard, determined facade. When he spoke, he ignored her question completely and his tone was hard, angry. “You should have told me Brianna. You should have fucking told me a long time ago.”
His anger rekindled her fear. Was it possible he knew about Jake? Why else would he bring her here and ask her these things? Her mind raced to find a way to explain her unforgivable behavior, but before she could reply, the entire room was thrown into pitch darkness. The techno dance music had stopped, replaced with the heavy beating of drums and a lone electric guitar.
Markus had released her chin and they both turned their attention to the stage where the curtains pulled open. Brianna’s stomach dropped when she saw that the stage was basically one huge dungeon. It looked like a scene straight out of medieval times, or a BDSM porn movie. The St. Andrew’s cross along the back wall caught Bri’s attention first, but as she allowed her eyes to glance quickly across the stage, she was shocked to see a whipping post in the middle of the stage, and an already occupied pillory.
The naked slave girl whose wrists and head were locked into the wooden stockade structure appeared to have been there for some time. She struggled to keep her balance, and each time she began to collapse, the heavy weights clamped to her nipples and labia swayed, causing her face to grimace in pain. Her legs were being forced uncomfortably wide apart by a wooden spreader bar attached to her ankle restraints. Even with the dim lighting, it was clear she’d been crying as her face was puffy and red.
Until Brianna noticed this small detail, she’d assumed they were here to watch a pre-planned and rehearsed sex show, but something in the way the submissive was behaving set off more alarm bells with Brianna. She had a sudden fear that what they were about to witness was less about rehearsed play, and more about real-life punishment, and that terrified her.
Finally dragging her attention away from the suffering slave girl, Brianna took in the spanking bench made from a sawhorse with a padded top. Heavy leather straps hung from the padded arm and leg rests and looked sturdy enough to immobilize the strongest of spanking victims. Brianna’s pussy almost convulsed at the thought of Markus strapping her into the cruel device and lighting up her ass with a heavy paddle or belt. She was so turned on that she stumbled backwards against her husband’s chest. Sweet relief washed over her as he wrapped his arms around her protectively, holding her to him.
Bri forced herself to move from the tempting spanking bench to a nearby diabolical-looking gynecological exam table. The stirrups were high and wide, with heavy locking straps and rings to immobilize recalcitrant patients. A huge red enema bag hanging from a wheeled stand sat waiting by the bed, along with a cabinet filled with probing medical instruments.
Near the medical scene was what looked to be a tall stool with a padded backrest. The subject sitting in the chair would have their legs pulled wide apart and strapped down at the thighs in a similar fashion to the medical table stirrups. At first Brianna didn’t understand this device’s purpose, but then she noticed the five-gallon bucket placed directly under the opening of the stool seat, and realized this chair was meant to restrain anyone unlucky enough to release their enema on stage for all to see. The mere thought of witnessing—let alone being forced to participate in—such a humiliating punishment caused Brianna’s knees to buckle underneath her. If not for Markus’s supporting embrace, she would have crumpled to the floor.
Bri was transfixed as she took it all in. Her thoughts were a whirl of fear, doubt and—against her better judgment—excitement. There was no denying the scene below had unleashed a torrent of submissive feelings in her. She wanted to turn around and beg Markus to take her down to the stage and use every torturous device on her. After all, she’d felt overwhelming guilt all day since her time with Jake. In her heart, even though she could blame it on being blackmailed and tricked by her ex, she knew she deserved to be punished by her husband. But even as she considered this, she remembered what he had told her in the car: he wasn’t that kind of man. He was tender to a fault.
So why did Markus bring her to this club?
It was clear he knew the bouncer and it almost seemed as if he’d been here before, which meant heknewthis was a BDSM sex club. She just couldn’t reconcile the gentle Markus she was married to with the man standing behind her right now. Regardless, she realized she was grinding her legs together in an attempt to get friction to her neglected clit. She was ready to combust from the growing sexual need and Markus ran his hand up her thigh until he grazed her sensitive nub. The second he brushed her clit, she groaned with pleasure.
In a tone she had never heard him use, Markus commanded, “Take off your panties. Right now.”
Without hesitation, Brianna blurted out, “Yes, sir.” The submissive response seemed so natural to her. She was more than happy to comply and hoped he planned on plunging his rock-hard cock into her. Once she handed the scrap of fabric to her husband, he slipped her panties into his pocket.
Before Brianna could beg Markus to take his cock out of his pants and impale her, her attention was drawn to a bulk-of-a man entering the stage through a door at the back near the St. Andrew’s cross. The guy had to be at least six foot two, with dark, thick hair that just brushed his shoulders. He had a five o’clock shadow, tanned and tattooed skin, and carried himself as if he owned the world. He was dressed simply in well-worn jeans and a black tee shirt that showcased his broad shoulders, muscular arms, and trim waist. Bri didn’t miss the riding crop hanging from a hook on his wide leather belt.
When he spoke, it was clear he had a wireless microphone attached to him because his voice boomed throughout the club. “Members, welcome back to The Punishment Pit!” The music softened as he began to talk and Bri wondered if he was an announcer about to welcome actresses and actors to the stage for a BDSM role-play performance. “You picked a great night to be with us because we have some very naughty boys and girls tonight in need of proper punishment. You’re also all in for a special treat as we welcome an old friend of mine back into the club. He’s come to me with a problem he needs my help in solving. I think you’re all going to enjoy watching me do just that.” An evil grin lit up his handsome face as he very clearly raised his eyes up to stare directly into their private box.
As his words started to sink in, Bri reluctantly turned around to look at Markus. His eyes were dark and hard, tinted with a hint of pain. He seemed about to say something but stopped and looked at the stage before turning back to his wife. Brianna was beginning to feel sick to her stomach by the time he finally addressed her.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl, Brianna.”
Her heart dropped. He knew.
Chapter Nine
Brianna
Brianna’s mind was racing. How could Markus have possibly found out about Jake? Her first instinct was to try to declare her innocence and deny any wrongdoing, but it only took a few torturously long seconds to know that route would only make things worse. There was no denying the pain and hurt in her husband’s eyes, and she knew it was too late to feign innocence. Still, maybe he didn’t know everything. Maybe he just knew that she hadn’t been where she said she’d been this afternoon. Even if he somehow knew that Jake had come to the salon looking for her, he couldn’t possibly know where they’d gone or what they’d done together? Could he know she’d been blackmailed by her ex?
The rest of the club melted away for Brianna. She turned her focus on Markus, searching his eyes for any hint of softness or love, any hint of what he might know. What she saw was a stranger staring back at her. Markus’s face was a mask of anger. With each passing second, she could see his resolve strengthening and she watched with growing terror as the last remnants of his pain and hurt were replaced by a steely hardness.
By the end of the longest minute of her life, Bri was physically ready to collapse under the weight of her fear and guilt. She had to dig deep to find her shaky voice. “Markus… honey… please talk to me. What’s happening?”
“Oh, I think you know exactly what’s happening, Brianna. You did, after all, put this entire night into motion with your traitorous actions, didn’t you?” Markus waited several long seconds before confirming her worst fear. “I sure hope he was a great fuck since he’s gonna cost you everything.” His voice dripped with venom.
Until now, Brianna had been in shock—too afraid to internalize what was happening to her. Now her body began to quake with fear as hot tears flooded her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. A rush of overwhelming guilt and self-loathing rocked her to her core.
She didn’t remember making a conscious decision to throw herself at his mercy. In fact, she didn’t remember much about those first fateful minutes of her doom. All she knew was that when she emerged from her trance, she was at her husband’s feet with her arms wrapped around his legs, holding on for dear life.
“Markus, I’m so sorry! I swear to you, I love you so much! You have to believe me. I’m so very sorry! I didn’t want to go. It’s just that he has info… damning… shit… believe me, honey… I just wanted to protect us… I am so sor—”
“Enough! It’s too fucking late. I don’t believe anything you have to say. Let go of me.” He easily tore her away from him, roughly shoving her backwards. She fell on the floor behind the balcony seats, her short dress riding up enough to give her husband a glimpse of her bare pussy.
