Chapter 10
When Amanda awoke, she found herself in the room where Ambrose had initially forced her to fellate him. The sofa-bed was open, and she realized she was lying on it. She had, in fact, slept the whole night through, and even at this moment felt exhausted.
Closing her eyes, she let herself drift off again. She slept for quite a period of time, and when she awoke, the position of the sun told her it had to be somewhere near noon.
Getting up, she discoverd a small bathroom nearby, and took care of all her needs, climaxing everything with a long, hot shower. Not once did it occur to her to be sorry for what had happened, other than to regret having to have felt so much pain at initially being stretched. Somehow she had the feeling that tight as she was, her membranes had acquired a greater elasticity, and in the future, the pain would be minimal, if it would exist at all.
When she emerged from the bathroom, she found her way to the kitchen and there prepared a hot cup of tea while making herself some toast and margarine. She was washing the tea cup when she heard the font door open and close, and then Ambrose walked into the kitchen. "You passed out, last night," he told her. "I went and got your pills from your apartment, but I wasn't able to wake you to take one."
"Too late now," she shrugged.
"Well what the hell d'you want me to do?" he snapped. "Come on, blame me, tell me it was all my fault."
"I don't have to tell you," she said. "You've already said it."
"Well, I'm not apologizing," he insisted.
"I didn't think you would," Amanda replied. "It would look rather ridiculous to apologize under the circumstances. I mean, it was an out-and-out rape. One almost never apologizes for something like that."
"I suppose you're going to tell me you hated it," he said to her.
"On the contrary," she told him. "I liked it very much, though it would have been better had it been less violent."
"You bitch!" he snapped. "You know damn well you'd never have agreed to be fucked on such short notice. You're the kind of woman who has to date a man for a long time before you even let him cop a feel, much less do what I did to you."
"Yes," she nodded. "What's more, I don't apologize for my lack of promiscuity. I know I'm your prisoner here, and I know you can force me to do it all over again, but that's the way it'll have to be every time. You'll have to force me from now on. I won't willingly do anything for you after what you did to me, last night."
"Are you telling me you would have willingly fucked if I hadn't scared the hell out of you?" he challenged.
"I'm telling you I have no respect for a man who drinks, and though I can't vouch for what I might have done had you been sober, I'll always be opposed to anything with a man who is drunk."
"If I swore never to drink again?"
"It's easy to talk," Amanda insisted.
"If I threw out every bottle of liquor in the house," he pleaded.
"Why?" she asked. "After all, I'm your captive, your slave. You can force me to do anything you want. Why make concessions to me?"
"You're right!" he nodded. "You're goddamned right! I don't owe you shit, except that you're probably pregnant by now, carrying my kid in your belly."
They fell silent after that, because it never occurred to either one to abort the child. But it was a silence Amanda knew she was winning.