Matronly Duties

by Melissa Kendall

  He doesn’t say anything, just continues to kiss me. I enjoy the feel of his soft lips. Not having any idea what I should be doing, I try to follow his lead. As our lips meld, his hand slides up to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. I copy his gesture, loving the silky feel of his hair. Goose bumps cover my skin from head to toe as he skilfully parts my lips. The tingling feeling that’s been dancing around in my stomach moves lower as I lose myself in the sensations. Just when I think nothing can feel any better, his tongue gently brushes mine. Some primitive instinct kicks in and I pull him closer, wanting to feel his body next to me. Sitting beside him is a little awkward, though, so I lean in as near as I can.

  One minute we’re sitting next to one another, kissing passionately, the next Howard is lying on his back with me half on top of him. It’s a mystery to me how we got here, but Howard is laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. I just lost my balance.”

  “Oh.” I try to move off him, but he puts his hands on my waist, holding me in place. “I’m going to squish you.”

  “No, you’re not. Not even slightly. I like you this close to me.”

  My cheeks heat, and I’m not even sure why. Howard puts his hand on my thigh and tugs so I’m no longer half on him and half on the ground. Now I’m all on him, straddling his hips. It’s strange being on top of someone else. Parts of my body that have never been touched by anyone but me are now touching him. I wiggle around a little trying to get comfortable.

  “Whoa.” Howard groans, stilling me with his hands on my hips.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean—” I move to sit beside him again, but his grip tightens and he moans like he is in pain.

  “It’s okay. Just stay still for a second, will ya?”

  “I’m sorry,” I say again, feeling utterly foolish.

  “Oh, Beth, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “What did you call me?”

  “Beth,” he says again.

  “I like it. People only ever call me Bethanie, or Ms Greene, and it all sounds so formal.”

  “Well, if you like it, then I’ll have to keep using it, Beth.” The sound of his name for me rolling off his tongue does funny things to me.

  I smile, and his mouth is on mine again, kissing me with a fervour I feel all the way in the tips of my toes. His lips are soft and he tastes so good I want to feast on him all day. When his hips shift beneath mine, a bolt of energy the likes of which I’ve never felt before courses through me and I gasp at the shock of it. Subconsciously, I mimic him. A quiet moan slips from my lips as a pleasurable ache develops between my legs.

  Howard shudders beneath me and pulls away again. “Beth, you can’t keep doing that.”

  “Why?”

  “Didn’t they teach you the mechanics of sex at that fancy school of yours?”

  “They taught us about fornication.”

  Oh my, is that what we are doing? I thought it would be like what that man tried to do to me. I thought it would be something terrible. It should be terrible. Shouldn’t it?

  Howard’s hands are on both sides of my head, steadying my gaze on him. The frown on his face is etched with concern. “What did they teach you?”

  I try to move away, but when Howard holds me in place, I close my eyes and answer him. “A man has a penis, and a woman has a vagina, and when the man’s penis gets hard, he sticks it in the woman’s vagina, and then they are fornicating.”

  A shudder works its way down my spine as flashes of how close it came to fornication the night I was attacked play in my mind.

  “Oh, Beth.” Howard wraps his arms around me and holds me tight. “Shh . . .” His hands run soothing circles across my back, and I sink into his chest. “What you’re thinking about, what you told me, that’s not sex. That’s not what it’s supposed to be like. Sex is supposed to be mutual, and it’s supposed to feel good.”

  I blink, trying to stop the few traitorous tears that threaten to fall.

  “Real men, good men don’t force themselves on a woman.”

  I lift my head from his chest to look at him. “Really?”

  I can see the sincerity in his expression. “Yes, really. Only cowards hurt women. I would never hurt you like that.”

  “So before?”

  He chuckles. “Yes, that was an example of the good, how it should feel when you’re with someone willingly.”

  “It did feel very good.” I want nothing more than to experience more of the good, leaving no room for the bad in my memories.

  I lean in closer, hoping to entice Howard into another kiss. He doesn’t hesitate.

  As our mouths and tongues dance, the hardness that I felt before returns. Wanting to feel the pleasurable sensation again, I rock my hips in a to-and-fro motion. Though not as strong as before, it’s still good.

  “Beth,” Howard growls, stopping our kiss.

  “I’m sorry. I just wanted to experience a little more of the good.”

  “I can do that.” He brings my lips back to his.

  Howard wraps his arms around me and sits up again with me still in his lap. His kisses leave my lips and start down my neck towards the collar of my jumper. I’m not sure where he is going, but when I feel him slide his hands under my shirt, I am a little nervous.

  “Is this all right?” he asks, gently caressing my stomach with his hands.

  “I think so.”

  “Tell me if it’s not. I’ll stop.”

  Once he is sure I am okay with what he is doing, he moves his hands up my chest. I tense as he gets closer to my breasts. My body is warring with itself. On one hand, the feel of his fingers on my skin is extremely pleasant. On the other, a part of me thinks this is wrong.

  As if sensing my unease, he changes direction. He slides his hands to my back and runs them up and down my spine. For what seems like the longest time, I get lost in kissing him. Then I rock my hips forward and find his hardness again. Howard groans, but I can tell it’s not an unhappy sound. He presses into me every time I grind against him, chasing the pleasure our movements are causing.

  The feeling is overwhelming and for a moment I panic, wondering if I should fight it. I’m not sure what will happen if I let it take over.

  “Relax, Beth, let go. I promise it will be fine.”

  I hesitate for a second and then relax like he tells me to.

  At first nothing changes. Howard continues feathering my neck with kisses, holding me so tightly against him that I can feel every breath he takes. The pleasure continues to build as I thread my fingers through his hair, holding on like my life depends on it. Then it happens, a detonation inside me.

  Waves of ecstasy hurtle through my body, making me cry out. My head falls to his chest. I continue rocking my hips, not willing to lose this ecstasy. There is a hitch in Howard’s breathing followed by a deep rumbling moan. He stills, and I follow his cue. The pleasure slowly ebbs away, leaving me with a happy satisfied feeling. I sink into Howard’s embrace.

  “Are you okay?” Howard kisses me on the crown of my head.

  “Yes, more than.”

  We sit quietly catching our breath. It takes a while for my body to return to normal, for my breathing to slow, and my blood to stop pumping wildly. It reminds me of how I feel after I’ve been for a good, hard run. When I think I have use of all my faculties again, I lean back and meet Howard’s gaze. I suspect the ridiculous grin on his face mirrors my own. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He looks at his watch and his smile drops a little.

  “Come on, we need to return or you’re going to miss your ride.”

  Disappointment hits me. I don’t want our interlude to be over, but then this was never going to be long-term. It can’t be. He lifts me out of his lap, stands, and offers me his hand to help me up. Once I am standing, he grabs a bottle of water out of his backpack and offers it to me, then packs away the blanket.

  Taking my hand, he leads us out of the cavern and through the catacombs.r />
  When we arrive at the doors to the city, Howard stops me. “Beth, there’s something I need to tell you before we go back out there.”

  The scowl on his face has me concerned. “What is it?”

  “I wanted you to know . . .” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging on it.

  “What?”

  “I . . . I had a really wonderful time with you today.” A giant smile graces his features, making him look beautiful.

  “I did, too.”

  He kisses me quickly and then we push through the doors.

  When the lights of the city meet my eyes, I am momentarily blinded—and a little sad that I will be returning to my life of duty.

  Yet, as I walk amongst the deteriorated buildings of the outskirts, I realise I may be able to help the people who live here when I do return. We are about halfway to the Jameses’ when a loud boom echoes from behind me. I whirl around to see what happened, but Howard yells, “Get down.”

  He throws his body over mine like a protective barrier and we tumble to the ground. “Are you okay?”

  I nod, too scared to speak. Looking around, dozens of armed men are approaching from all sides. There’s no way we can fight them off.

  Howard pulls me to my feet, and I wonder what his plan is. “When I tell you to,” he whispers in my ear, “run.”

  I’m about to tell him I’m not leaving him when he steps away from me and yells.

  “Run!”

  I don’t even have a chance to move before the men surround him and he is writhing on the ground in agony, electricity from a Taser coursing through him.

  “Howard!”

  I scream as strong arms grab me from behind. My fight-or-flight response kicks in, and I try to wriggle free. “Help!”

  “It’s okay, Ms Greene,” a familiar voice says. “You’re safe now.”

  “George?” I stop moving, hoping I’m not making a mistake.

  “Yes, Ma’am.” He lets me go, and I turn to face him.

  “What’s going on?”

  “We are rescuing you, Ma’am, from the terrorist.”

  “Howard’s not a terrorist! He rescued me from my kidnappers.” I turn to where Howard is on the ground, still screaming in agony. “Stop it! You’re hurting him.”

  “Ms Greene,” George says, getting my attention. “Howard James is the leader of the Trads. He’s the one who organised your abduction.”

  “No, you’re wrong, he had nothing to do with that. He wasn’t even there. You were there. He rescued me from those vile men.”

  “Ma’am, it was all a cleverly crafted ruse.”

  “No, you’re wrong!” I run towards Howard, needing to help him.

  Someone grabs me from behind and lifts me off the ground. I kick and scream trying to free myself, but the strong arms hold tight.

  “She’s obviously in shock,” says a voice I don’t recognise. “We need to get her back to MITI and have her checked out.”

  “No! Let me go. I’m fine. You don’t understand.” Try as I might to loosen his hold, I can’t. “Howard!”

  I don’t even realise we are moving until suddenly we are in front of some kind of weird-looking cart with no windows. The person holding me shoves me inside and shuts the door, leaving me in the dark.

  With nothing else I can do, I curl up on the floor and cry.

  Chapter 6

  Four hundred and forty-eight.

  I sigh loudly and close my eyes after counting the ceiling tiles for a second time. It’s been almost two hours since we arrived at MITI, and they brought me to the infirmary, locking me in this exam room. George has stood guard the entire time, and after multiple failed attempts to engage him in conversation, I’ve been sitting here trying to keep myself occupied.

  My thoughts wander to Howard. I hope he is okay. I also hope that they’re not treating him as abominably as they are me.

  A loud knock sounds at the door and I sit up, hoping that finally I’ll receive some answers.

  George hops up from his chair, checking to see who it is before letting them in. A man enters the room and I recognise him as one of the staff physicians who work exclusively for MITI. Following close behind is Headmistress Carpenter, a scowl on her face.

  “You may leave now,” she says to George, who does as she says and closes the door behind him.

  The doctor steps towards me. “Hello, Bethanie. I’m not sure you remember me, but I’m Doctor Sloane,” he says and sits on the edge of my bed. “You have had quite the ordeal the last couple of days, haven’t you?”

  “I’m fine. I want someone to tell me what is going on, though.”

  He quickly glances at Headmistress, who shakes her head slightly and then smiles placidly. “Well, let’s check you over and make sure you don’t have any injuries first.”

  He hands me a medical gown. “Headmistress Carpenter and I are going to step outside for a minute. When you’re changed, please lie down on the bed and call out. I will come and complete your exam.”

  I take a little longer than necessary to disrobe, using the time to process everything that has happened since I awoke at the Jameses’ house this morning. Everything is topsy-turvy. I’m locked up like I’m the criminal instead of the victim, which leads my thoughts to Howard. I refuse to believe he is some evil terrorist mastermind like George said.

  He can’t be. Yes, they’re traditionalists, but . . . he and his family took care of me.

  I gasp at the thought that something has happened to his family because of me.

  “You ready, ma’am?” the doctor asks, his muffled voice startling me.

  “Almost,” I call out.

  I quickly finish up and call for the doctor. He and the headmistress reenter the room and I tense, wondering what exactly this examination is going to be. Dr Sloane pulls a tray of instruments over next to the bed and I glare at him wearily.

  “Relax, Ms Greene. I promise this isn’t going to hurt a bit.”

  He starts his examination with my head, feeling all over the surface of my skull. “Is anything sore?”

  “No.”

  He checks my vision and then my reflexes before making sure I can move my neck properly and there is no soreness.

  “The next part is going to be a little harder.” The hesitance in Dr Sloane’s voice concerns me. “I can see the bruises on your wrists. And after an ordeal like the one you’ve been through, I suspect they aren’t the only ones. I’ll need to catalogue all of your marks and abrasions, so I need to check all of your body.”

  Panicked at the thought of this man looking over my body, I glance at the headmistress for reassurance.

  “Go ahead,” she says in an emotionless voice.

  For the next fifteen minutes, Dr Sloane checks every inch of my body, making detailed notes of all my bruises, scrapes, and other injuries. He finishes up by asking me what I had to eat or drink while I was there. He writes down everything I consumed as I list it. When I am done, he gets a needle and takes a syringe full of blood.

  For a moment, I think he is through and relax a little. However, he isn’t finished.

  “Okay, lastly I need you to bend your knees and bring your feet up to your bottom so I can do a gynaecological exam.”

  In an instant, every muscle in my body is rigid. “Why?”

  “The marks on the inside of your thighs indicate someone tried to force themselves upon you, and I need to make sure you’re not hurt on the inside.”

  The doctor’s words cause the memories to bombard me again.

  I close my eyes and pull my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth. I wish these flashbacks would stop. It was horrible enough the first time. I don’t want to keep reliving it.

  A hand on my shoulder causes me to jump, and I open my eyes to see the doctor standing next to the bed with a look of pity on his face. “It’s going to be all right. I won’t hurt you.”

  Wanting it all to be over, I bend my knees and spread my legs, giving him access. I fix my gaze on the ceil
ing and return to counting tiles. It’ll all be over soon. I hope. Thankfully, it only takes a couple of minutes, and when he finishes, he grabs the bag with my clothes and asks Headmistress to join him in the hall.

  Annoyed he didn’t tell me whether I was okay or not, I hop out of bed, intent on getting dressed and heading back to my room. It takes me a second to remember I don’t have any clothes.

  As I open the door, I see the doctor and Headmistress standing very close together against the opposite wall and talking in hushed tones. Though I can’t hear what they are saying, the serious looks on their faces tell me it can’t be anything good.

  As I clear my throat to announce my presence, both of their heads snap in my direction, the expressions on their faces making them look like naughty children caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “Can I have some clothes brought down so I can get dressed?”

  “They have already been sent for,” Headmistress replies, then shoos me into the room. She closes the door behind me, and I crawl onto the bed and lie down, hoping a few minutes of peace will calm my raging emotions.

  Two hours later, I’m in my own clothes but still trapped in this damn exam room with George standing guard outside. I have waited patiently for someone to come and explain what is going on, and when the door opens to reveal George and Mr Denham, head of the Matron Selection Committee, I almost sag with disappointment. Then the door opens wider and a third man I don’t recognise, but has a very official look about him, becomes visible.

  “Come with us,” Mr Denham says.

  “No,” I reply, tempted to stomp my foot to get my point across. “Not until someone explains what is going on and why I am being held prisoner.”

  Mr Denham and the other man exchange a glance, and then with a nod, the man in the stuffy suit steps forward. “I’m afraid that’s my fault, Ms Greene. I’m Chief Detective Simpson from the investigations division of Oceania Security Patrol. I needed to make sure you wouldn’t speak to anyone before I could ask you what happened while you were a prisoner of Howard James.”