Chapter 16
Michele Raimond had the chess book on her knee and the board and men spread out on the low table in front of her. She was really tired of going over the games of the masters, but there was so little else to do. She'd read so much that her eyes felt strained, there was no housework, no knitting or sewing and she couldn't keep on ringing up friends.
Whatever she did, thoughts of Pierre kept swimming into her mind. The injury to his head, casual though he'd been about it, had filled her with horror and foreboding. And she knew he hadn't told her the truth about how he got it. And he knew that she knew. It was part of the half-fiction which was supposed to stop her from worrying too much through keeping her ignorant of the facts. But if the facts were worse than the explanations her imagination provided for her it was all too grisly anyway.
She moved a black knight and removed a white pawn from the board. Perhaps she loved Pierre too much, just .a little too much. She always had and had always thought of it as more of a fault than a virtue-when she thought of it at all.
Even from the beginning. She'd always been unable to hide the depth of feeling she had for him. She'd hidden nothing from him, even telling him what had been such a shameful secret for so long, a secret she'd sworn would always be one-about the American soldier who'd had intercourse with her in a hotel bedroom in Montparnasse just like that, a stranger, because the family needed food so badly. She shivered even now when she thought of the American, who'd been so confident, so superior in the knowledge that he could do what he liked for a package of cigarettes. She had never told Pierre how much the American had demanded, how much he'd humiliated her. Never told him that it had happened more than once-five times in fact-always with the same American before his regiment moved on. She shuddered when she remembered the way he'd treated her. She could recapture it all with such chilling clarity if she let herself. How he'd forced her to walk around the room wearing nothing but a pair of high-heeled shoes, how he'd made her kneel before him and suck his hot erection until he came in her mouth and down all over her breasts, how he'd licked her vagina and sucked her clitoris, while she hated him with every second that passed, how he'd forced her to lie face down across his knees while he spanked her because it gave him a kick to see his hand sinking into her buttocks and to feel them quiver under his blows, how he'd made her do the same to him because that was another kick he got. All that, all that with a man she hated, all because he could get food and cigarettes which the family needed so badly in the shortage. She'd read later how the same sort of thing had happened in Germany. Indeed, how the German girls had sold themselves for a single cigarette or one piece of chewing gum.
And then there had been Pierre and she had loved him so much that she had told him and he'd been nice and understanding except that it had made him want her, insist on having her before they got married-"so that the other man didn't get anything I didn't"-whatever he had meant by that.
And so she had given herself to him with all her heart and with a chill in the pit of her stomach one day in the long grass and she'd found herself rising to a pitch of response and abandon that she'd never have believed possible. And they'd gone on and on making love every time they met until eventually they'd got married after she'd begun to doubt if he ever would really marry her. And she'd always loved him so much, more and more and never been able to hide the depth of her feelings although she'd known that his had become, to a slight extent at least, blunted. Sometimes she'd thought that perhaps she should have an affair or be a little distant just to make him a little jealous, a little more acutely desiring again. But these, she knew, were mere fantasies. She simply was too involved with Pierre even to notice another man or even to be capable of saying "I don't feel like it tonight" when he began to move his hand over her breasts ...
She was interrupted in her reverie by the buzz of the doorbell. She looked up from the chess board towards the door which led to the vestibule as if she expected to see somebody standing there. She got up, wondering who on earth this could be and walked into the vestibule and from it through into the little porch to open the door.
Three men were standing outside on the broad stairway in front of the lift. The red light was still illuminated on the lift where they'd just come up.
At the sight of them she began to close the door, uncertainly. They looked evil. She'd never seen them before in her life and she was sure that any business they had was bad business.
In the first place they were Algerian and she didn't like Algerians; in the second they had about them an air of menace which was frightening.
One of them quickly put his foot in the door as she tried to close it and, before she had time to think what was happening, far from what to do, he had thrust the door open again with a big hand and walked into the porch, followed by the other two.
"What-what's the meaning of this!" she gasped, keeping her voice firm. "Get out immediately or I'll call the police."
The big, broad man who seemed to be the leader caught hold of her wrist and a knife glinted in his other hand.
"No you won't." he said. "Or you'll get more than we really intended to give you." , She stood frozen, with his grip cutting into her wrist. Was this something to do with Pierre? She felt sick in her stomach but she said nothing to bring him into it.
One of the other men, a lean, alert animal with the most vicious eyes she'd ever seen went past them and found the telephone in the vestibule. She heard him cutting the wires and the nausea in her stomach pervaded her whole body. They were going to do something terrible.
"What do you want with me?" she managed to get out. "What have I done-who are you?"
"We've just come in to have a little friendly play," the big man said. "We just have to pay your husband out for his little play."
"Pierre? Where is he? What's happened to him?" Her voice broke, but the man's next words reassured her.
"He's all right now, but he's not going to be when he finds out that his wife's been unfaithful to him." The three men laughed. The big man had released her wrist but still held the knife in his hand, pointing it casually at her.
Her thoughts became confused. Over everything she was aware that at least Pierre was all right. And then the words sank in. They were going to rape her! These beastly Algerians were going to rape her! She felt physically sick again at the thought and looked round instinctively for a weapon, a way of escape. The three men grinned at her and the horror of her situation overcame her and brought a scream to her lips, a scream which was stifled immediately as two of the men seized her roughly, covering her mouth, holding her struggling arms.
"We are not averse to slitting your throat," the big man said. "But if you don't struggle or try to cry out only sweet pleasures are in store for you."
She tried to bite the hand that held her mouth but it simply crushed her lips with numbing force. She was lifted bodily and carried into the bedroom where they tied a scarf around her mouth and began to take off her clothes.
"Beasts, beasts, beasts!" sobbed through her head as she kicked and struggled. Worse than the American, horrible, unthinkable what they were going to do to her. She struggled and fought until she was on the point of exhaustion, but the two men who were stripping her seemed completely unbothered by her efforts. They held her firmly on the bed while they pulled at her garments, ripping them from her if they didn't come easily. The big man watched them as he slowly took off his own clothes.
Already they had her naked down to her underclothes. She struggled feebly as one of them caught her brassiere strap and ripped the bra off her, leaving a line of pain across her.
Her breasts soared free before their eyes and she saw those eyes as, ashamed and frightened, she struggled-vicious, avid eyes and then hands which mauled her breasts in the struggle.
"Good," said Mahmoud Taluffah, stripped now. "Pretty little duds. Let's see what else she's got." He came over, gloating, and with eyes deep in fear she saw his shaggy body and the great mast of a prick rising out from the forest of his pubic hair. She closed her eyes to cut out the sight and felt the ripping, pulling around her hips. She made a last desperate attempt to resist and then she was naked and helpless before their eager gaze. She was sick and chilled; strange sexual horrors sparked and knifed through her loins and through her heart.
Mahmoud Taluffah came right close to her while the others held her and he pulled her thighs apart with a force she couldn't resist. A tear slipped over her cheek and her head ached.
"A nice little quim, too," he said.
She felt his fingers on her vagina and she cringed her crotch away from him, but the fingers insisted and entered, filling her with dread and shame.
"Not too big," he said. "It will be very good. Turn her over.
Nakedly she resumed her struggle with a sudden lease of fresh life. It was then they hit her; a couple of punches on the back of the neck which seemed to bring bile to the back of her throat in a sickening pain and she slumped over onto her stomach, helpless, while they pinioned her arms.
"Beautiful ass," Mahmoud Taluffah said. "Just made for giving me a nice ride."
In a daze she felt their hands opening her ass, drawing the buttocks apart. She tried to tense her behind, holding the buttocks together, feeling naked, obscenely, horribly naked. But she couldn't stop the pressure and her buttocks were stretched away from each other until she could feel the cool air on the hot, perspiring interior of them.
"Ah," she heard Mahmoud Taluffah say. "That's ittight and smooth and hairless-lovely to fuck."
His words chilled her and them she felt his fingers exploring the tight skin of her anus until with a little painful shock she felt one of them enter her and go in up to the first knuckle joint. Mechanically she closed her buttocks, gripping his finger in her posterior hole. She heard him laugh and she relaxed again, not knowing what to do, how to keep him away.
"Tie her," he said.
They hauled her up the bed and attached her wrists with handkerchiefs to the bed posts, spread-eagling her so that her arms were stretched out in a large V across the top of the bed.
She felt garlic breath on her and then a great shaggy body rolled onto her and oozed and undulated all over her as if reveling in the contact of'their flesh. She wished she could faint, but she was fully conscious and bearing the ordeal with mounting horror. She could feel an enormous prick hot against her behind and rough hands ran all over her neck, shoulders and back. She was bitten in the neck and she squealed, opening her eyes and raising her head as far as sbe was able. The other two men were gloating over the spectacle, vicious grins on their faces. She closed her eyes with a gasp and dropped her head back to the bed. She had never felt so humiliated.
She felt a tongue running down her spine, felt his body moving up off hers. He forced her thighs which she was trying to clasp together apart and knelt between them. She felt his face on her ass and then he bit into a buttock. She heard his voice as she winced. It was uneven and excited.
"Delicious," he said. "Like butter."
She tried to cringe her buttocks away, but she only succeeded in waggling them in what seemed like sensual invitation.
"She wants it; she can't wait," she heard one of the other men say and there were raucous guffaws of laughter.
The knees between her thighs pushed them wide, hard and painful against the soft flesh of the insides of her legs. Her thighs were wide and helpless. She knew he could have her just as he wanted and another tear forced itself from her eyes although she was trying not to show any emotion.
She felt his hands on her hips, clasping them, digging into the soft flesh and he pulled her roughly up to a kneeling position. She could feel his hairy loins and his enormous prodding penis hard against her pelvis. She pushed out her legs stiffly, trying to flatten her body and he said:
"Hold her up-the sexy bitch."
Then fresh hands grabbed her, holding her hips high up in the air, keeping her legs apart. She felt his thumbs on the tender flesh on either side of her anus. Then she felt a hard, pointed thrusting against the anus, between the thumbs which were trying to stretch it apart. She chilled": with terror. "No-no!" she screamed through the gag. The words were just muffled, meaningless sounds grunting out into the room. She opened her eyes and tried to raise her head.
"Hold her," Mahmoud Taluffah barked, as she began to struggle. She was held in a vice as she felt her anus being stretched as if it would tear, by those rude fingers, as she felt the hard, thrusting thing pushing and being rebuffed and pushing again.
She began to pray, wild prayers, and she bit at the gag.
This was death, worse than death. To have this shameful thing done to her, this horrid, disgusting, unnatural thing by beasts, by strangers. Her soul cried out against the disgusting, loathsome horror of it and then she jerked wildly with pain as a red-hot iron seemed to brand her ass-hole with an unbearable, aching, splitting pain.
"Hold her, hold the bitch!" Mahmoud Taluffah wheezed again. And she was held, almost unable to move, her bottom high up in the air, buttocks spread, nakedly, helping his prick to enter in and bugger her and she began to sob as the pain spread and made her stomach convulse with a sickness which rose in her throat.
Her anus was splitting. It would tear into a great slit, the length of, the crease of her buttocks and blood would flow and all her inner organs would flow out to be drowned in the unbearable pain which with every second she felt she could no longer bear, but somehow did. Although she struggled, trying desperately to escape from the anal impalement, not just from shame now, but because the splitting pain was so terrible, she was held fast, held still in the kneeling posture best suited to his fucking of her ass.
She could feel the enormous intrusion of his cock, pushing solidly in now, widening her back passage, chafing and rubbing to a raw pain the soft skin of her rectum.
Once, involuntarily, she farted. And even that little occurrence, forced on her by the unnatural straining of her ass against the solid, sickening ravishment, added to her shame.
She became aware of his hand gripping her hips with a numbing pressure as he sawed and throbbed into her behind. The pain went on and on and each thrust brought fresh cringing sobs from her lips until the pain and sobbing was merged in a continuous alliance. Each time he thrust in he seemed to go deeper and to split her more as the broader base of his penis moved slowly towards the point where the entirety of his prick would be lost in the stretched, reddish hole which suffered and clung to it like a clam.
The gag was wet with her tears. She felt wounded and ruined at her behind. As it waved and jogged high up behind her flattened shoulders, she felt as if it was a great wet open wound.
He was pummeling into her with long, smooth strokes, running into her with the whole length of his member. She heard him gasping and she heard the heavy breathing of the other men who watched. She was still held stiffly in a bent position, her thighs wide and inclined slightly forward, her shoulders pressed down on the bed, her back, arched in a concave curve from the rounded hips where his body dominated her.
"God-it's tight. Ugh, ugh!"
He mouthed obscenities and descriptions to the other two men, which made her fiery with humiliation. As he lunged in at her, the other two men would let go and he'd pull her back onto his prick, slipping her over it as if she were some long boot he was pulling over his leg.
Her inside was a great, fiery, painful ball of sensation in the midst of which she was aware of that white-hot, rasping block of pressure, coming and going, which was his prick. She was a prisoner, there was no escape, she just had to kneel there, bent over painfully like a slave, while he thrust his penis harder and harder, faster and faster into the soft depths of her rectum, pushing the inflamed flesh aside with each long, ramming entry and insweep.
Her breasts heaved with her sobs. She would not be able to live after this, never able to look at Pierre or anyone else.
She would carry this ache in her nether hole as a permanent reminder of her shame and humiliation. Even when, physically, it had gone, it would creep back like a heavy phantom throughout her life.
Her body shook and trembled and her thighs, released now that resistance was broken in her, occasionally convulsed as an extra-hard thrust seared her rectum, seeming to push his cock right up to her colon, to fill her bowels.
Above and behind her his gasps and grunts filled the air, and she hated the pleasure and gratification and sadistic pleasure she was aware of giving him.
She longed as she gasped brokenly into the counterpane for the moment when he would finish and withdraw his deflated penis from her vastly enlarged aperture. The pain would be there still, but the solid, worming presence which seemed so repulsive would be gone-and gradually, too, the pain would go.
But with this longing went an even greater one that he should not finish his orgasm in her. It would seem like the crowning point of domination over her, of her helpless, humiliated slavery to him, at that point where he discharged into her all the pent-up concentration of his brutal passion, punishing her as the fleslipot receptacle of a climax which she in no way reflected.
But, with a growing horror which even stilled her sobs and made her sway and wait for the inescapable ejaculation with stifled groans, she knew that he was coming to the point she dreaded.
His organ was like a huge, rough-edged cudgel in her behind. like a cudgel with knots and nails sticking out from it. And now he was grating breath through his teeth and grinding slowly into her ass, joggling his prick around in her rectum once it had gone up her to the hilt-so that she felt his hairy surrounds against her buttocks and the inside of her thighs. .
"What an ass-hole!" he gasped. "God-it's here-here!"
She bit the gag with all her force and screwed up her eyes tight, trying not to think, but she couldn't maintain a vacuum in her mind and she relaxed and heard him again just at the point where he let out a long, choking gurgle and came right up in her rectum. She froze, seemed to empty of everything and as, shaking still, he emptied the last of his vicious sperm up at her colon, filling her soft passage with warm wetness, she began again to shed bitter tears.
After a while his great bulk moved off her and her rectum and anus felt as if cold gales were whirling around and through them. They felt coldly wet and aching and she felt hopeless and wanted to die or to awaken and rind it had all been just some horrible dream. But instead, as she sank down on the bed, aware when she moved of the ache in her back, she heard him say: "Go ahead, Mohammed. She's all yours-what's left of her."
"I'll find something left," said one of the other men. "Even if I have to dig a fresh hole in her belly."
Her hands were untied and she was rolled over. She opened her eyes, reluctant, but afraid to leave them closed. She saw the man with the vicious eyes pulling off his pants. He came at her in a business-like way, rolled her over onto her back, slumped on her, pulling apart her thighs and slid his prick straight into her cunt, making her cry out with pain where she'd thought there could be no pain left.
She didn't bother to struggle. She was exhausted and hardly thought of herself as a person capable of resisting. When his dark, sweating face came down on hers and he sucked at her mouth, she let her lips be crushed softly under his and tried to forget the moment as if it didn't exist.
His hands slid under her buttocks and when he told her to put her tongue in his mouth she obeyed mechanically, refusing to think.
She became aware of the other two watching before she closed her eyes so that there were only his mouth and his prick in her quim which seemed real.