Chapter 6
James threw himself suddenly and violently, on his wife's trembling body.
"Now you're going to get fucked," he husked, pressing his body into hers, while he maneuvered her into position. He spread her legs harshly wide, with his knees, having forced them between her trembling legs.
Serena was weak from the beating, and from her own pent-up desires, and it wasn't too much to expect that she would feel faint.
She did, much to her joy. She felt overpowered, weak, and small, and at the same time, secure in the hands of this brute with whom she had lived on terms of easy familiarity for so long.
If familiarity is, indeed, what breeds contempt, then Serena felt her contempt whisked away with the violence and the powerful charisma which her husband was exuding now, his weight pressed into her.
And Serena wanted him now in the worst way!
As she lay beneath him, holding out for one more delicious second, made all the more sweet by the knowledge that if she didn't give in, and she really wanted to, he would take what he wanted.
And she adored him! Adored this sweet, gentle, predictable man turned caveman before her very eyes. She loved the gleaming look of lust in his eyes, the feel of his cock throbbing against her quivering, helpless flesh.
She felt herself, trembling on the brink of her orgasm, and lost it as her eyes seemed to bore through the eyes of her husband, as they pierced through her, heating her with their lustful, passionate glow.
She raised her knees, so it would not be difficult for James to gain access to her. Serena moaned, as James's hands came up, and pulled her hair, jerking her face up to his. Then he kissed her, violently, with bruising pressure that caused her lips to swell. His rough tongue snaked between her resisting teeth, forcing them apart, and he invaded her mouth, his tongue running wild in the warm wet oral womb.
His tongue reached all the way back to her soft palate, almost causing her to gag. Then she felt his throbbing merciless mauler at the door to her wet, weak-with-desire, all-too-willing pussy.
She gasped against his tongue as he pushed hard, ramming his cock balls-deep into her aching cunt. She felt his balls slap hard against her ass cheeks. She hadn't felt that full in a long, long time, and never had her husband's cock felt so hot, so driving, so demanding.
She almost fainted with ecstasy. She closed her eyes, and abandoned herself to him, arching her hips up into his hard-thrusting groin, feeling his pubic hairs slamming into her mons pubis, as he pulled out to the tip of his cock, and then rammed home again.
He fucked her without mercy, and seemingly without end. Serena flew to the heights of passion, and stayed, trembling on the brink of an ecstatic fall into space, willing herself to stay where she was, surrendering to the hard-driving stud who was raping her.
There was no gentleness, no consideration of her sensitivities evident in this violent man, no soft sweet nothings whispered with civility into her ears.
This was a wild man, who was bruising her, his strong, iron-hard fingers digging into her flesh, causing her pain, and more pleasure than she had ever known with him before.
His fucking had a wild, demanding rhythm to it that required no cooperation on her part, indeed, it would have been impossible to meet him thrust for thrust, as his cock abraded her delicate pussy membranes, grinding in and out of her twat without mercy.
She felt the first shivers of her passion run through her, lightning like in their effect. The pleasure was an agony of joy. And the joy was augmented to a frenzy by the knowledge that this man, this strange, wild rapist, was her husband, and she loved him.
She loved him to distraction, loved the abandon with which he fucked her. She felt his lips oh her neck, felt the hard bite of his teeth, as he left a hickey on her white flesh, his mark of possession. She was bruised and marked all over, her whole body a story of his passionate possession of her.
She went wild under him, her body quaking with violent spasms that wrenched her free from all constraint, as his cock drove home again and again, driving her orgasm higher and higher.
And then she was screaming, and her mouth was being covered by the wide, demanding mouth of James, striving to stifle the scream, and it was buried in his mouth. His teeth bit down hard on her lower lip, and Serena tasted blood. The pain eased up some of her mad frenzy.
Then she felt her husband coming, in great warm gushes of spunk that splashed against the walls of her brutally fucked pussy. She felt his manhood spewing into her, spreading to all the secret places of her womanhood, melting her with liquid fire.
Oh, please, she thought, let it be a baby. I want a baby from tonight! Tears of joy and passion coursed down her cheeks, as her husband, his passion spent, at least for the moment, collapsed heavily on top of her, his chest heaving, pressing against her breasts. His body, as it relaxed, seemed to spread, covering her.
They were glued together with their private juices, and the sweat that had poured freely from their bodies, as they joined in their lewd coupling. James's hands relaxed their mauling movements, and he forced his arms under her back. She winced as the pressure exaggerated the pain from the whipping she had received.
He squeezed her into him, seeming to want to press her whole body deep within his, until they were truly one. Serena ran her tongue over her husband's quivering shoulder, tasting the salt of his sweat, her tongue outlining the quivering muscles, the pulsing veins.
Wonderful! How sensitive a tongue is. The tip can pick up taste, and odor, detect the delicate coursing of blood through a vein, and through skin. It was an erotic organ that was seldom acknowledged she felt. She wanted to suck her husband off.
She looked up at him, relaxed and warm and comfortably, erotically sticky, under his still heaving body, looked questioningly into his eyes. The lust was unabated there, and the face was still the face of a rapist. Again Serena felt her pussy melt with desire. Their night was by no means over. The very thought sent shivers running up and down her spine, as she felt her husband's cock shrink slowly, throbbingly, in her well reamed-out snatch.
His arms did not release their grip on her back. James was not about to relinquish his proprietary rights. Serena buried her face in James's shoulder, and lay there, quietly breathing in his heavy, musky, sexy aroma, and waited, as the slave she had become, waiting for his next demand.
She knew it would be a heavy one.
James pulled out of Serena with a heavy plopping sound. Serena's pussy almost cried out with agony at the loss of James's cock.
Serena looked doubtfully up into James's face. He was looking at her, the lust still unbridled in his face and eyes. He rolled off her, and lay beside her. Serena turned on her side, running her hands over his washboard belly. James slapped her hands away, brusquely.
She lay back, and turned her head away, her eyes filling with tears. Could it be that now that she had discovered her great love for him, that James no longer cared for her?
James, for his part, was wondering at the disparity between desire and reality. He wanted her again, wanted to take her all night, but he was temporarily spent. He heard her sniffeling quietly, unobtrusively beside him, and he felt the heat grow in his loins.
He had her in his power, finally! The cool, easy-going, distant Serena had behaved like the hottest sow in heat when he took her by force. Was that what she wanted? He had felt guilty when he first kicked the door down. Now he was basking in his own pleasure, and the fact that he knew Serena had climaxed, too.
Then he remembered some of the magazines he and his wilder girlfriends had read. Serena could suck him off! Now James was a fully-sexed man, but he had not had much feedback into sexual practices. His father, a bona-fide member of the Old School in good standing, had taught him to be gentle and respectful to his wife, and to sow his wild oats with the wild women, who'were "not ladies." James had followed his father's advice to the letter, until tonight.
He had been wondering how he could make up this act of violence to his wife, how he could prevent her from leaving him for the outrage he had committed. However, the memory of Serena, squealing and climaxing under him, as no woman had ever done, gave him courage.
James rolled over, and straddled the sobbing Serena, his knees braced on both sides of her lovely tits, his .cock pointing to her averted jaw. He reached over and slapped her face toward him. Serena's lovely, tear-filled eyes looked up at him. She was frightened.
"Suck me up again. I'm not finished with you yet," he growled, hating himself for the roughness with which he was treating her, and the surly sound of his voice. He wasn't being a gentleman at all!
Serena's eyes roved to the semi-erect penis, lying on her chin. She reached down without a word, and sucked in the tip of James's demanding dork. James threw his head back as he felt her soft mouth embrace his penis wetly. He felt his cock jump, felt the blood pumping into it. He moved up farther on her lovely, soft breasts, squeezing his thighs against her sides to get a better feel of their spongy, sexy texture against his rough, hairy inner thighs.
Then he leaned down, pressing his bruising weight against her shoulders, as Serena sucked. She licked up and down his long, and rapidly-growing cock, her mouth acting like a vacuum, sucking the spunk up from his balls.
She looked up and watched her husband's face, twisting lewdly into a mask of passion. She felt the bruising grasp of his passion-ridden hands, pressing into her shoulders, leaving black-and-blue marks. She knew she would be covered with bruises in the morning. And she didn't know how she would explain the black eye she had received from James's rough slapping of her face.
But she loved the rough way he was demanding his pleasure from her, loved the feel of his long, throbbing pleasure-pole, growing in her mouth.
"Stop!" he bellowed. She paused in her journey down to the base of his cock. She was aiming for his balls, wanted to feel them in her mouth. James pulled his massive, throbbing dick out of Serena's sucking mouth. Serena could see the drop of pre-come oozing from the slit, and she knew he was about to come.
He moved down the bed, still straddling her, until he was at a level with her knees. He slapped her roughly on her white haunches.
"Turn over," he husked. Serena's heart was beating violently, as she did as she was told. She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, as she contemplated the possibilities, and she was pretty sure which one he had opted for.
She had her suspicions confirmed, when she felt his rough hands yanking her hips up into the air, until her white ass cheeks were waving obscenely in the air. They were covered with welts, and as James caressed the welts, occasionally pinching the soft white skin, and making Serena yelp with pain, he thought with a perverse pleasure that he had caused these welts. They were his brand on his woman, and he was going to make her completely his woman tonight, or kill her in the attempt.
He spread her ass cheeks wide, feeling her muscles cringe under his rough handling. He stared at the brown, puckered entrance to her ass hole. He had had her pussy, and her mouth, and now he was going to take her ass.
He was going to shove his prick into every orifice he could. If he could have made it in her ears and her nostrils, he would have done that, too, but her ears were too tiny, and so were her nostrils. He would have ripped the flesh trying to enter her.
He aimed his red, angry-looking prick at the quivering entrance to her shit chute. There was a sardonic grin on his face, as he thought how obscene this act was. But James was a man obsessed, carried away by his lust for his own wife. He didn't care anymore, how degraded the act was. Never in his life had he done this, not even to the call-girls he had had. The very thought of it had repelled him. But James was not himself, or at least he thought he wasn't, and his pent-up passion had got the better of him, was master of his finer instincts.
And so he humped his hips forward, and heard Serena squeal with pain, as the thick, mushroom-shaped head of his cock pushed past her resisting sphincter muscle, and wedged itself in her nether channel.
He could hear Serena gasping, felt her ass cheeks trembling as he pushed hard, harder, striving to bury his cock in her shit chute.
"Ohhhh, nooooo...." moaned Serena. She felt his massive, throbbing cock pushing inward, into the very depths of her bowels. Tears of pain were streaking down her cheeks. Nobody had been this rough with her ass, since the two beasts she had picked up on the eve of her wedding. And James was even rougher, and his cock was bigger, stuffing her painfully, filling her asshole as she had never been filled before.
It was like poetic justice. Serena tried to relax, but James's demanding dork was drilling its way up her rectum with a ferocity that was driving Serena crazy with pain.
She really didn't want this pain-it was too much. She started to struggle under his driving ramrod, and the effort only further impaled her asshole on his pile-driver.
"No, James, pleeeeeaasssee!"
James was driven to further fury by the sound of her pleading, by her gasping, by her frenzied struggling under him. He pushed harder, and heard Serena scream, saw her mouth open and her eyes close shut against the fierce pain as he pushed himself deep into her, balls deep.
He reached his hands up from her hips, where he had been holding her, pressing her ass onto his spunk-filled male javelin, and ran his hands up her belly, feeling the muscles contracting against the pain, feeling her quick heavy breathing, as she panted in agony.
Her body felt warm and soft, and beneath the soft skin he could feel the muscles, contracting violently as he inflicted this cruel punishment on her. James almost relented of his perverse punishment. He felt a growing wave of pity for his much-abused wife, and the pity only served to further inflame his driving cock.
In a fury, he slammed home again, driving his rod deep within her bowels, hearing her squeal with pain, and then moan. He felt the walls of her rectum being dragged along with his cock's movement, watched the puckered rectal opening flower out obscenely, stretched to its ultimate capacity.
And as he drove his pleasure pole home again, violently, he got more and more turned on by the very obscenity, the very violence and perversity of the act he was committing.
He was reaming out his wife's asshole. Serena's moaning was becoming softer, more prolonged. It couldn't be! She was enjoying this? As he slammed his hard-driving rammer home again, he reached down with his hands and felt her pussy.
The lips were swollen and hot, and sticky with her pussy cream. The very idea of it sent James into further paroxysms of passion, and the speed of his plowing in and out increased, and the intensity of the strokes increased, as he fingered her twitching clit.
Serena had relaxed a little, which opened her rectum a bit more to her husband's painful plowing rod. The pain and heat from his cock's friction against her rectal walls was traveling upward, coursing through her whole body. She remembered, with a start, the eve of her wedding, and the way she had shamelessly courted degradation, violating herself before her wedding, cheating on her husband-to-be.
She was getting it all back in spades now.
Her pussy creamed more, as she thought of the poetic justice involved in this humiliating act which her husband was performing on her now.
She could feel her whole body singing with her impending orgasm. Her head felt light, as she realized who was doing this to her. Her conventional, ordinary, impassive husband. Dork-man couldn't have been wilder or more brutal in his taking of her, as her husband was being now, and Serena was loving every minute of it.
She wanted him to go on and on and on, to kill her with his passion, to drive his cock right up to her throat.
She moaned, long and low in her throat, her head bouncing from side to side, from the impact of her husband's hard-driving cock.
The reaming out her ass was getting was driving her crazy, the agony shooting wildly to her head, making it buzz with pain, spreading to her arms and legs, causing them to tremble with weakness and anguish.
Then the pain and the warmth was traveling slowly to her pussy, warming it, making it wet and ready to come again. She clawed the pillow with her hands as she felt the impending violence building in her. She knew that her body was going to go wild again, and her husband's rough finger on her clitoris was increasing the speed with which she was climbing.
She braced herself, feeling her rectal walls give under the enormous spreading plow as it rammed in and out of her. She had broken out in a cold sweat, as her body began to shiver uncontrollably.
The first orgasmic spasm rolled over her like a juggernaut, destroying all vestiges of her rationality, turning her into a jibbering, squealing writhing animal, as her husband rutted over her, labored with his long, manly plow to bring her to fruition.
As her pussy began its white-hot spasms, her anus contracted around her husband's driving cock, sucking the gism out of his rod. She felt the first splash of come coat her abraded asshole, soothing the fiery pain into quiescence, and after that she remembered nothing. Just felt the wild, all-encompassing waves of pleasure flow over her again and again and again, felt her husband, dominating her, driving her to her highest peak of pleasure. The pain still flicked through her, lighting and contrasting garishly with the pleasure that had drowned her reason.
She was frothing at the mouth, her body taut as a strung bow, her ass now grinding wildly into her husband's humping hips, as they came together, in insane, erratic, bruising, beating rhythm, which drove them both wild. The waves receded almost as suddenly as they had come, leaving them both collapsed, breathing heavily, glued together in their sweat, and come and passion. Serena, lying prone on her belly, felt the weight of her husband almost smothering her, as he lay, covering her. She felt his cock dwindling slowly, until it popped out of her-rectum with an obscene squishing sound. Still her husband's body covered her, silently.
Serena lay under him, savoring the warm, wet feel of him, feeling his heaving chest, as he strove to fill his tortured lungs with air, felt the hard puffs of his breath blowing against her neck, wetly, sexily. Serena was turned on again. She wanted more of this wild man her husband had become, this stud who had driven her mad with passion and lust and pleasure.
But James lay there, silent for the longest time. She felt his wet, sticky body relaxing by sudden little jerks against her. She realized that he had fallen asleep. She lay there for the longest time, feeling his breathing turn rhythmical once again, and deep, as James plunged into a deep, after-fuck sleep.
Slowly, Serena wiggled out from under the dead weight of her husband. She winced as she sat up slowly in bed, and gazed at her flawless body, marked by her night of passion with her husband. Her body felt alive, tingling. She was by no means spent.
Serves you right, she thought to herself, ironically. If you hadn't deprived yourself, trying to deprive him, you wouldn't be such a rutting sow now. She got up and went to the bathroom. As she looked in the mirror, she gasped at the welts and bruises covering her body. And sure enough, just as she suspected her husband had given her a black eye.
Serena smirked at her bloated, abused face in the mirror. The marks would all go away, and she was amused to think that James, gentle, over-refined, over-civilized James, had become a raging, rutting brute and had given her a black eye, just like the lower classes!
Serena laughed out loud. It was worth all the deprivation to have him come on like that. She was hoping he wouldn't be too guilt-ridden in the morning. She didn't want such a wonderful thing spoiled. She didn't want her husband scared off the rough stuff.
She turned on the shower, and bathed her aching body under the steaming spray, caressing herself with the soap. She guessed she would wake him up early in the morning. Have a good rousing fuck with him, if he weren't too hung up on tonight's proceedings. She also knew that she would have to talk to him more, explain what she wanted.
Yes, there had been a lot of drawing room talking, but precious little intimate communication between the two of them. And that would have to cease. She could get the ball rolling in the morning, by waking him up. She grinned as she thought how she was going to do it.
She got out of the steaming shower, and dried herself off. She was hungry. She smiled. She had forgotten how good an appetite sex always gave her. She quickly calculated in her head how many calories she had consumed, and decided she still had a reserve left. She could have a bowl of consomme. She dried off quickly, and threw on a gorgeous satin robe, and quietly left the bedroom, closing the door carefully behind her. Her husband was out like a light, and snoring slightly.
She had never known he snored, but then, they had seldom slept together, each having their own room. James had been so proper before the marriage, that after she had seduced him, she strongly suspected that his desire to make an honest woman out of her was one of the reasons he married her. She smiled, before closing the door, and blew the dear, sweet man a kiss.
She reached the kitchen, and turned on the light. She had seldom been in the kitchen, and it took some looking before she found a can of consomme, and it took more opened and slammed shut cupboards before she found cooking utensils. She would have to take care of that. She used to be a good cook. She hadn't touched a pot or pan since she had been married.
As she sat down at the table with the steaming warm bowl of soup, slurping it happily, her mind was planning tomorrow.
It was going to be a big day. Martha, Marvin and she were going up to the prison, to start a new program there with the cooks. And of course, the highlight would be her waking up her husband. She slurped her soup with some anxiety growing in her.
What would their relationship be like now? Would James have scared himself by his violence? She remembered the perverted way she had spent her wedding eve, how awesome the guilt felt the next day. Well, she was sure she could take care of that, especially, if she made the approaches in the morning. That would at least tell him that she hadn't been turned off, still loved him. Still loved him?
Had just found out how much she loved him!
The clock in the kitchen ticked a comforting, steady tattoo in her head, and Serena started to get sleepy in the quiet, warm, homey atmosphere.
Then she heard a noise. It startled her out of her warm, sleepy mood. She was not initially alarmed when she heard it, until she heard it again. A sharp, cracking sound, a moan, and the muffled, evil sound of a man's laughter. It was coming from the cellar.
Slowly, Serena rose. Should she go get Marvin, or her husband, or should she just call the police? Serena decided against those more rational alternatives.
Gutsy as she was, her curiosity could not be quelled, even in the midst of anxiety, so she wrapped her satin robe tighter around her, and crept to the cellar door.
She opened it cautiously, and winced as she heard it squeak on its hinges. There were no sounds in the dark cavern below, and she descended slowly, feeling her way with her hands. She knew that at the foot of the stairs there was a light switch. She had been down here a few times to get the children's bicycles.
As her hand reached, fumblingly for the light switch, her heart froze in her breast. She felt a rough, masculine hand clamped over her mouth, and a powerful arm around her waist, lifting her and carrying her into the gloom beyond.
The shock set her senses reeling. She had no ideas in her head and only fear in her heart.