Glimpses of the Island

Action and Consequence

Ben went over the day on his way home from the clinic. That last patient's results had been worrisome. The combination of high blood pressure and preliminary tests full of warning flags, combined with a family history of heart problems, meant there was an excellent chance of a bypass operation in the patient's future. He had done the best he could, warning the man he was at substantial risk of a heart attack. Further tests were needed before he would recommend an operation, but his primary concern was time. He had given the man his business card and asked him to carry it with him. And he had alerted his answering service to pass the patient's calls through any time day or night.

He had brought Elise home on the same road that first night together. She had been asleep that evening, her head nestled against his shoulder. He had brushed a stray hair out of her closed eyes. In response she had snuggled closer to him. Or maybe he had been the one doing the snuggling. She did feel good.

She had looked so small and vulnerable. He knew what she had faced at the Facility. Strict unrelenting discipline, endless rules and no excuses for breaking them, and total dependence on the staff to care for her with no limit on the time she would be there. What could have driven her to willingly agree to such conditions? She had known what it would be like before she ever entered the gates. Yet still she gave up everything in her life for the chance to belong to someone else. Ben shook his head. To him it was incomprehensible, like volunteering for a life sentence in prison.

He would have gone crazy. She seemed to thrive on it, a chronic overachiever. He had gone through all her records at the Facility, and watched her several times on camera. They provided proof of her sincerity and commitment. As the Facility counselors had pointed out, she not only accepted the conditions imposed on her but also actively worked on her own to apply what she had been taught to new situations.

The question he faced now was one of degree. The advisors at the Facility had warned him that his first assumptions on how to treat her would be wrong. If he were to let up, go easy on her, she would lose her faith in him. Keep her busy, make sure she is focused on completing specific tasks , that had been their advice. And see to it those tasks are achievable but not too easy. Tell her when she does a good job, but don't hesitate to criticize. She will know if she hasn't done her best. If she wasn't held to his standards he would lose his credibility.

Ben respected the experience behind the advice, but found it difficult to put into practice. Elise was special to him and he didn't want to drive her away. His natural inclination was to take care of her by making her life easy and not be too demanding. According to the Facility that plan would be a quick course to disaster. As they explained it, her self-worth was measured in terms of what she could do for him. If he didn't provide her the opportunity to prove herself, or even worse discouraged it, she would be lost.

They had told him to be authoritarian. Impose rules, define her daily activities, and above all do not hesitate to demand. Don't ask her, tell her. In Ben's mind the question was in the degree of control he should apply. The difficulty was in determining how she would react. He just didn't know her well enough to judge.

The last few days had given him some basic impressions to work with. His idea of letting her pick out clothes, but vetoing those he didn't like, seemed to be a success. There had been no sign of any latent resentment when he had refused some of her choices. To her credit she picked up on his selection criteria quickly, rarely making the same mistake twice. For the moment he would proceed with the strategy of encouraging her to use her own talent and ability by setting specific tasks for her, but not supplying the details of how she was to complete them.

His attempts to draw her out in casual conversation weren't doing as well. He had avoided questions about her past on the assumption it was better she volunteer whatever she wanted to share. The Facility had promised her a place to start over, and Ben intended to keep the same promise. He had tried to keep to safe topics, like books, movies, or music that she enjoyed. She would answer if he asked, but he could tell she wanted him to talk. Of course she was doing the same thing, trying to encourage him to tell her about himself. He could appreciate, from her perspective, the urgency of learning who he was. On balance he had to concede it was better he talk and she listen, at least in the short term.

Ben pulled into the driveway and stopped the car. Elise knew he was on the way home so she would be watching for him. When he opened the door she would be there. She had to be, since he hadn't allowed her out on her own. He wondered how she took that particular restriction. When he had explained what he wanted she had agreed, with a few astute questions as to what she should do if there was a fire, some other emergency or someone came to the door. He had no way of proving she had stayed inside but he would have bet anything she had not even opened the door.

He got out and headed for the house. Over dinner he'd ask her about her assignment to explore the house, and what she had found. That wouldn't take long as he hadn't done much with the place. All evening alone with her, he looked forward to it. Tonight would be spontaneous since he hadn't planned anything definite.

When he opened the front door she was standing in the hallway, hands crossed in front and eyes down. "Good evening , sir," was all she said, accompanied by a quick glance up at him before she lowered her gaze again.

Ben opened the closet door and hung up his jacket. He kicked off his shoes, shut the door and turned to Elise waiting patiently for him. This was something she had started doing on her own, meeting him as he came in the door. The first day he had been unsure it was a good idea but it had grown on him quickly, to where he now looked forward to it. He held out his arms. "Come here."

In a blink she was in his arms as he kissed her. He finished with a hug and let her go. "What's for dinner?" He could smell something good on the stovetop in the kitchen as they walked into the living room. He noticed the dining room table was set for supper.

"I fixed a roast with potatoes and carrots. I'm not sure how it came out. The beef has a different taste than what I'm used to." Ben had to be careful not to laugh seeing her apprehensive look.

"It's a regional difference. The beef comes from east Africa." He explained. "The cattle feed is mostly local grasses. You'll get used to it." They sat down to eat.

After dinner she surprised him by asking permission to bring up something bothering her. Curious, he sat down on the couch and told her to sit next to him. This was something new from her. He told her to begin.

"Ben, I may have disobeyed you today. I didn't think about it at first, but all afternoon it's been bothering me. It is your right to punish me if I've done wrong." She stopped, unsure of how to continue.

Puzzled he tried to figure out what she meant. She had gone through the house, what else had she done? "Why don't you tell me what happened and I'll be the judge if any correction is warranted."

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry. When I went through the front closet I took down the restraint belt and put it on. I shouldn't have touched it. I promise I'll never do it again." From the expression on her face he would have thought she was confessing to a lifelong crime spree. Ben tried to remember if he had even put the items from the Facility off limits.

He couldn't figure out what she felt guilty about. She hadn't broken any rules or acted outside her boundaries. Rather than punish her he wanted to know why she put it on. All it took was a question, so he asked her.

Now she looked embarrassed. "Sir, I…I'm not sure." She looked up at him, an anxious expression crossing her face. "I don't mean to be evasive. It's just that I can't explain why."

"Did you take down the handcuffs or leg chains?"

"Oh no, sir! I would never touch those! At the Facility we were taught that such things are the sole province of our master."

Ben had an idea. "Show me. Let me see what you did." He took her hands and pulled her up. She followed him into the hallway. He opened the closet door and took out the leather belt.

He hadn't examined it very closely at the interview or when they came home. It was wider than a regular belt, with extra stitching on the buckle. The ring about halfway down the belt was mounted on a metal plate, and attached to the belt by rivets through a matching plate on the back side. The D-ring was large enough to accept handcuffs but much too small for a hand to slip through. The belt length was sized for a woman or small man. He held it out to Elise.

She hesitated before taking it out of his hand. She wrapped it around her waist and pulled it tight. As she was about to slide it around so the ring would be in front Ben stopped her. "That looks too tight. When you wore it during the interview, did it fit so close?"

She looked up at him. "No sir, should I loosen it? I can wear it this way if you like."

"Yes, loose. It doesn't have to hurt. As long as it stays in place I'm satisfied."

"Yes, sir." Elise let out the belt to where it wasn't so constricting but would still be too narrow to slip over her hips. "Is this okay?" She held out her arms.

Ben put his hands inside the belt to test the fit. He tried to pull it down but it wouldn't go any lower. He noticed a fleeting change of expression on her face as he pulled on the belt. She recovered quickly but he knew it had excited her. "At the Facility, did you normally wear this with the ring in front?"

She nodded. "Yes sir, sometimes the guards would handcuff our hands behind our backs, sometimes in front, but when they used a belt like this our hands were always in front." She put her hands on the belt and began to slide it sideways. "I can move it around."

Ben took hold of her wrists and gently pulled them off the belt. Puzzled, she looked up at him, unsure what he wanted her to do. "Turn around and hold still." She obeyed instantly, her back to him, arms loose at her sides. She sensed something in the tone of his voice that told her not to speak. "Put your hands behind your back."

She had to know what he intended next, but she didn't say a word. Ben reached in the closet and took the set of handcuffs off its hook. He checked to make sure he still had the keys in his pocket. Pushing open the bow of one cuff he took hold of her left wrist. He could feel a slight tremble as he closed the cuff around her wrist. He opened the other cuff and slipped it through the ring on the belt. Still she didn't move. He took hold of her right wrist and locked the cuff around it, imprisoning her hands behind her back. The trembling was more pronounced this time as he slowly closed the cuff.

Quickly Ben spun her around. She kept her eyes down. "Look at me," he told her. He held her tightly with a hand on each upper arm, below her shoulders. He was concerned she would be frightened or about to panic, but one look told him that wasn't going to happen. Her face was flushed, her breathing heightened, and through the thin material of her dress he could see her nipples were pronounced.

Dropping one arm to her waist he pulled her close. His other hand wrapped around her long hair and pulled her head roughly back as he kissed her. A suppressed moan escaped her lips as she melted in his arms, pressing against him. He could feel her hands struggling with the handcuffs. He grabbed one manacled wrist with the hand behind her back and she immediately stopped.

When he told her to put her hands behind her back Elise knew it could be for one reason only. She held her breath as she heard the familiar ratcheting sound. When he took hold of her wrist and she felt the cool metal encircle it she shook uncontrollably. Then he locked her other wrist in the grip of cold steel. She closed her eyes, savoring her helplessness.

She was caught by surprise when he spun her around. He had control now; she couldn't resist him. Faster than she could react he pulled her to him and grabbed her hair. The kiss crushed against her lips as she instinctively opened her mouth to accept his questing tongue. Swept away she didn't even realize she was fighting the handcuffs, trying to throw her arms around his neck and cling to him. But when she felt the pressure of his hand as it grasped her bound wrist she relaxed and stopped. His slightest touch could command her now.

When he stopped he held her at arm's length, studying her face intently. "I understand now. Let's go back into the living room." He led her back to the living room, her hands still confined behind her back. His tone of voice made her uneasy.

"You were right to bring this up, Elise. I don't consider this outright disobedience and I won't punish you for that. However, you were correct that this belt," he slipped a hand behind the buckle and pulled her close again, "should be off limits to you even if I had not explicitly told you so. I trust you to do what you think is right when I'm not here. You failed to listen to your own misgivings and for that you must now accept the consequences."

Ben pulled her over to a corner of the room and turned her to face the wall. "You're going to have a timeout. I want you to stand here, quietly, until I tell you otherwise. I want you to think about what you did wrong and how you will avoid that mistake in the future. In particular ask yourself why you didn't recognize your error immediately." He reached into his front pocket and took out a coin. When he held it up in front of her she saw it was a US quarter. "I want you to hold this coin against the wall with your nose. If you let it fall we will start over again. I don't want to do that." She leaned forward pressing against the large coin with her nose. He let go of it and walked away.

Elise heard him sit down in his chair behind her. From the rustling sound he must be reading the newspaper. She stared at the spot in front of her nose. This is it , she told herself, I'm being punished by my master. I displeased him. He's right too, I did know better . Being ordered to stand in the corner in itself wasn't really all that bad, and the fact her hands were locked behind her back was only an inconvenience. What hurt was that she had disappointed him. She would have to do better next time. Meanwhile she had to make sure she didn't let the quarter slip.

Ben sat in his chair, newspaper in hand, but it was Elise's back he was reading. Her handling the restraint belt was a non-issue, except that she had brought it up. By her own standards she believed she had failed him. He couldn't ignore that, so he settled on a mild punishment. He would let her stand in the corner for about fifteen minutes, enough time for her to work out her own emotions while showing her he took his own job as her master seriously.

The Facility director, Clancy Yates, had a name for it, the Broken Windows syndrome. As he had explained it one afternoon, a neighborhood where broken windows are tolerated soon deteriorates into a crime-ridden ghetto when no one is willing to take responsibility for anything. For a neighborhood, or a relationship to survive there must be minimum acceptable standards for everyone, and someone willing to hold others to that standard. The same principle applied on a smaller scale when a master did not take the time to properly address the minor infractions. Elise had pointed to a broken window; Ben had to acknowledge it and make the necessary repairs.

The ironic part, to Ben, was that if Elise had casually mentioned what she had done he wouldn't have even thought about punishing her. He would have ignored the whole matter, which in retrospect was the wrong approach. Her perception dictated his reaction more than the event itself.

She slowly flexed the fingers of her hands. Probably getting tired , Ben thought, and a sore nose too . He checked the time on the mantelpiece clock above the fireplace. She had five minutes to go. He spent the time organizing his thoughts.

When her time was up Ben stood up and walked over to stand behind her. First he took the coin away, next he released her wrists from the handcuffs, and finally he turned her around to face him. There were streaks of tears on her cheeks. He wiped them away with his hand and stroked her hair. "C'mon, let's sit down on the sofa." He took her hands and led her to the couch.

"I want you to understand my disapproval is only that you didn't trust your own judgment." Her look of apprehension turned to surprise. "I did not tell you the belt was off limits, so putting it on wasn't deliberate disobedience. In the future I want you to listen to your intuition. When in doubt do what you believe is best.

"I'll never punish you for that, Elise. The fact you told me, even though you could have kept quiet and I'd never have known, it means a lot to me. These are early days for the two of us. I have to learn about you too." He held up the handcuffs he had just removed from her wrists. "I have to figure out how best to use these, and the other tools at my disposal." She giggled as he pantomimed a crude leer to accentuate his innuendo.

Elise put a hand on his arm as she spoke softly. "If I can make a suggestion? Practice with your tools. Often. I belong to you, Ben. I'm listening to my intuition when I tell you not to hesitate. Remember? You told me to."

He had to concede she made her point. And what should he do next?

"Go put your shoes on. It's time you got out of the house. We're going to take a walk around the block and work off some of that delicious dinner. You can see some of the neighborhood." Ben stood up and took her hand as she followed. "We still have some daylight left, and there's a nice breeze."

At the front door Elise got her pair of walking shoes from the closet and slipped them on. She stood by the front door, waiting for Ben to open it.

But he didn't open the door immediately. "You're not ready yet." She looked down at herself, unsure as to what he meant. "Turn around, put your hands behind your back. I'm going to get in a little practice."

When Elise did go out the front door her hands were securely bound behind her back, held in place by the belt around her waist. It was a mark of how much she had changed since her arrival on the Island that she didn't even consider it unusual.