Chapter 5
Still, John's jealousy did not subside. She had cheated once, she would cheat again. John was like a man possessed. He was like a madman. Every evening, he kept grilling her, asking her again and again what she had done during that day.
"I was all by myself," Selina had protested on one such occasion. "I haven't seen a man in God knows how long. Why must you keep tormenting me like this? What happened with Wendell should be gone and forgotten with. It was so long ago when it happened. It was in December. Now it's already July. Aren't you ever going to forget?"
"No," said John, like a vicious dog. "I may forgive you, but I'll never forget. You cheated on me. I can never forget something like that How can I ever trust you again?"
Though Selina had become a perfect wife after that incident she could not please John. Lately he had taken to drinking and staying out late. When she asked him where he was he told her to fuck herself.
"It's none of your goddamn business," he said. "You cock-sucking bitch. I'll come and go as I please, and you'll just mind your own business. Dig?"
Selina was speechless. It was a very hot July evening. She stood in her negligee, and she was utterly speechless. What could she say. What could she tell her husband to make him forget that incident? How could she placate him?
Suddenly his powerful hand was upon her. He slapped her across the face viciously. Again and again, he kept beating her pretty white face.
"I should have done this to you a long time ago," he said. "You're a harlot and you have to be punished. You have to be chastised for your sins."
He lilted his knee and kicked her in the belly. Selina fell to the floor. She was bleeding from a cut under her lip, crying loudly, as her husband thrashed her. Suddenly he grabbed a leather belt from the hall closet Selina was in tears, as he ripped the soft white negligee from her body. She lay on the floor, naked, except for a pair of black, silk panties which her husband had bought her as a present. There was a hole, in the crotch of the panties. John had seen it at a novelty shop in New York, when he had been there the month before on some business. Though she didn't like the panties, John had insisted that she wear them to bed.
"All the whores in New York wear them," he had explained. "It saves them time. This way they don't have to take off their panties, when they're getting laid. All they have to do is lift their dress, squat over, just like a dog, and a guy can stick it right in There's no mess at all."
"When I heard that whores buy them, I got a pair just for you. After all, I can't let my little Selina be undercut by the competition"
"That's not funny," Selina had protested.
"I don't care if it's funny or not," John had said. "I want you to wear those panties, when you go to bed with me. I like them. And from now on you do as I wish, remember?"
"Alright," Selina had said reluctantly. She agreed to follow these insane demands. At least for the time being.
But John had gotten worse and worse. And now she lay on the floor, and he was thrashing her with a leather belt, laughing like a wild man.
Selina tried to get up and run away. She managed to kick him in the groin. John fell to the floor, only to get up a moment later.
"I'll show you," he was screaming. "You filthy whore. I'll show you to kick me in the balls. Wait all I get at you-you'll be sorry you were ever born."
Selina tried to escape, but it was no use. John was mad. She suspected he was drunk. He finally caught her, grabbing her around the waist and carrying her upstairs to their bedroom.
He flung her over his knees, and started spanking her. Treating her like a little child.
First he pulled off her panties, so that her pink buttocks were naked and exposed to his lecherous gaze. There was no escaping, in spite of the extraordinary struggle with which Selina responded. There was no way out.
Selina was cursing under her breath as John's vicious palms came down upon the soft voluptuous flesh of her rump. John kept slapping her backside, at first gently, and then harder.
Selina screamed as she felt his teeth bite into her already aching buttocks. John took a large juicy bite out of her ass. She cried, as he flung her across the floor.
She fell across a night table, and her head struck the sharp protruding edge. In a moment she was unconscious, lost in oblivion.
When Selina awoke she found herself tied to two beams in the basement, her naked body red with welts. John stood over her, like a task master, a whip in one hand, and a knife in the other. He was dressed in leather, wearing a costume which he had bought while on a visit to Germany. He looked vicious, like an apparition. Like the devil himself.
"What are you going to do with me?" asked Selina, mustering all the strength in her body. She was scared. She could never remember being more frightened.
"What are you going to do to me?" she asked once again.
"When I get finished with you," John screamed, "You'll look just like chop-meat. You're own mother won't even recognize you."
"Please," begged Selina. "You're mad. You don't know what you're doing. You're drunk. Why don't you put that whip and knife away. Wait till tomorrow. We'll straighten it all out. Please listen to me."
"Ha-ha-ha," John laughed. "I'm through listening to you. You're a filthy slut. A cheap tramp. You're gutter trash, and when I'm finished, that's where I'm going to sweep you out I'm going to throw you right out into the gutter. Don't think I haven't found out about you. I know all about you and your family. Don't think I don't know that your sisters are all whores. I knew from the beginning. I knew before I married you. But I thought that you would be different I thought you were a decent girl. I thought that if I brought you to America with me that you would feel grateful and be a good wife to me. But what do I find. All I have to do is turn around, and you're fucking my brother."
It was no use to try to reason with him. John had gone beyond that stage. He had cracked his lid. He was a raving lunatic. Selina had seen the transformation taking place, at a slow pace, ever since the incident with Wendell. Something had sent him over the brink. Selina wasn't sure what it was, but she finally realized that, whether she liked it or not, she would become John's sacrifice to his crazed ego. John had been humiliated. Now it was his turn for revenge.
Selina gritted her teeth, as she felt the last burn against her naked buttocks. John brought down the whip with a flaming intensity. With a burning fury. There was no mercy in his eyes, as he slashed against her young, smooth body.
Again and again, Selina could feel the burn and sting of the lash as it ripped across her back, and buttocks. John beat her against her loins, and milky white thighs, without mercy. He smashed her against the breasts, and her satin smooth belly. Such a voluptuous belly. Such a delicate belly. Such a warm, sensual belly.
Selina winced as she felt the large red welts, as they grew on her body, like intense fireballs. Their sting was painful. But at the same time exciting. Salina wasn't sure of the exact moment when the pleasure sensations started. But they were there nevertheless. Selina was enjoying herself, as John beat her. It was a sexual enjoyment.
An intensely pleasurable tingle started in her vagina and then spread itself, like wildfire, across the rest of her pushed himself inside of her. It was that same unmistakable tingle. That same exhilarating friction. It sent a cold shiver down her spine, and a warm excitement to her loins. Her clitoris throbbed. A pleasurable sensation seized her breasts. Her nipples were beginning to erect, like two delicious cherries.
John watched with amusement, as her nipples grew firm. He stopped beating her, watching the metamorphosis. Like the bud of a flower, those ruby red nipples burst open, a testament to the pleasure she was experiencing.
"Just like a whore," said John. "Even while I'm beating you, you can't control the hunger in your flesh. You're a shameless sensualist. You only think about one thing. The only thing you got in that bird brain of yours is ideas of sex. If you want cock so badly, then I'll give it to you. I got a cock that's as big as a snake. You know what it looks like. You want it?"
"Yes ..." Selina nodded. "Yes, I want it."
She wasn't lying. She wasn't only trying to please his vanity. It was true that she wanted it. Standing there, wearing those tight leather pants which he had bought in Germany, John looked better than he ever had. He was more desirable than he had ever been.
She wasn't sure what it was that was causing this insane reaction. She loathed this man, standing in front of her, and she desired him at the same time. What was it about him that suddenly made him so attractive?
In Barcelona, when Selina was a little girl, her father used to beat her mother. Selina never understood why she stood for such treatment.
If I were her, she used to think to herself, I would leave him immediately. If a man ever beats me when I grow up, he sure won't be seeing me for too long.
But now Selina was all grown up, and she was learning why her mother had been so docile. Women like to be beaten. Women enjoy being degraded and humiliated. It's in their nature. They love a man who exercises authority over them. They like to be whipped and badly treated.
Humiliation, as Selina was now learning, serves as a sexual catalyst. It gets the juices running. It sends stimulation to the insides, and unlocks the vast panorama of erotic desire and lust.
Selina suddenly realized what she had found so repulsive in John She suddenly realized why it was such a task to have him next to her. He had always been so kind and gentle. He had always been nice to her. He had always obeyed her wishes. When she didn't feel like having sex, he had always conceded to her demands.
Women don't want docile men. Women don't want men who concede. They want men who'll brutalize them. They want men who'll beat them and whip them. They want men who'll rape them. They want a man who'll force himself upon her.
"All right" said John abruptly. "I'll give you my cock. If you want it so badly, I'll give it to you. I'll let you have it just the way you like it"
He untied her, and carried her trembling body up the stairs, from the cellar to the bedroom.
"Get down on your knees," he commanded.
Selina obeyed without objection. She was eager with anticipation. She could never remember feeling like that She could never remember being filled with so much desire. She could never remember being so wickedly lustful.
But then again, she could never remember when John had been such a man. She could never remember when he had been so masculine. Indeed, he had never been more dominating. Never in all the time that she had known him.
As she got down on her knees, she watched as John unzipped his fly. She smacked her lips at the tantalizing thought. Soon she would be given something to suck. Soon she would take his phallus into her mouth. Soon she would bite into his rock hard cock. Soon ... very soon.
"Do you like it?" asked John, as he held that magnificent creature in his hands. It radiated and sparkled, just like an emerald covered scepter. It was so beautiful, that Selina found that it was impossible to describe it accurately. It was impossible to describe it accurately. It was impossible to describe the pleasure that it would bring. It was such a tantalizing sight. Such a tempting morsel. Selina felt like running towards it and grabbing it between her lips and kissing it fondly and passionately. She restrained herself, however. She didn't want to appear too eager. This would only make John more convinced that she was a slut Somehow, Selina had learned, that American-Puritan ethics teaches men to despise girls who like sex. It's only a whore who's supposed to enjoy sex. Nice girls are supposed to be demure and restrained, and they're not supposed to enjoy themselves.
This, in Selina's way of thinking, was a perverted outlook. It was a sterile outlook. And it was just such an outlook which caused all of the hangups and sexual frustrations experienced by the American male.
Why, Selina wondered to herself, do American men play around with girls who put out, and marry girls who don't. Why do they think that a girl is a tramp, just because she enjoys sex?
That Selina believed, was the basis for John's problem. That was the reason he was so insane with jealousy. So, even though Selina wished to leap at him, and touch him, and feel his touch as it explored the secret passions of her body, she restrained herself. She stood on her knees, her naked body glistening in the moonlight that poured in through the curtains, waiting for John's orders.
"You know what I'm going to do to you?" he asked, drawing near to her, still holding his mammoth phallus with his hands.
"What?" asked Selina.
"You know," he laughed. "First I want you to eat me, they way you ate my brother Wendell. Suck my cock dry. You understand, honey?"
"Yes," nodded Selina. She was only too glad to do his bidding. Nothing could have made her happier.
She got up from her knees, and unbuckled John's leather pants. Slowly, and with delicacy, she took his cock into her mouth, and began to lick at it and suck at it. It was the most tender morsel that she had ever eaten. Such a tender morsel. She couldn't remember ever eating a cock that tasted so terribly delicious.
She quivered with delight as John's hand descended onto her breasts, and towards the thick triangle of hair above her pelvic area. She kept sucking, until she could feel the surge of energy explode in her mouth.
John came in less than five minutes, shooting off inside of her mouth. Selina dutifully swallowed the semen, afraid that if she would spit it out she might inadvertently offend John. He was still a mad man, and she would have to be very careful as to what she did or said. He was still in possession of a knife. There was no telling what he would do. He was liable to explode at any moment
"You liked it?" asked John, apparently satisfied.
"Yes," replied Selina. "You were good. I never thought it would be so good. I never thought it could be so good."
"Fine," said John "If you like it so much, then I have another little surprise for you."
"What?" asked Selina.
"Close your eyes and open your mouth."
Selina complied. It was an unpleasant surprise. John began urinating into her mouth. She coughed and gasped for air.
"You better keep your mouth opened, if you know what's good for you," John warned. "You better remember that I still have a knife on me. If my little bitch of a wife isn't cooperative with me, and if she don't do like I tell her, there's no telling what I could do. Hell, why I might even cut off your two beautiful titties."
John gave out a loud, resounding belly laugh. It was a cruel evil laugh. But its effect was not lost on Selina. She opened her mouth as her husband, John, urinated. She drank it all up as John commanded. Then she kissed his cock.
"Say good night," ordered John. "I'm going to put him into my pants. Say good night to him."
"Good night," stammered Selina. She was a woman dragged down to the lowest depths. John had robbed her of the slightest trace of dignity and self-respect which she still possessed. She swore revenge. She would get even with him.
"Ha-ha," John laughed, collapsing on the bed. In a moment he was sound asleep.
Selina looked at him with a contempt and a loathing which boded like lava. Now was her chance for revenge. She picked up the knife which he had placed on the table. Now she would repay him for his humiliating treatment of her. Now was the time ...