Chapter 7
When Teddy pulled the station wagon up in front of the cottage, it was obvious that no one was home. The doors were shut and the shades were all drawn. But he wasn't satisfied until he had walked through the house calling Ellen's name at the top of his lungs. When he woke up this morning, his head was throbbing painfully, but some of the alcoholic haze had lifted. And in the cold, clear light of day, things began to take on a different perspective.
When he staggered drunkenly onto the base last night, he had been irrational and in no condition for logical thought. Fortunately, a couple of his buddies were on night duty, and they spotted him before he got himself into trouble. One of them had gotten the bright idea of stowing him in a rag bin, and they half-dragged, half-carried him into the maintenance building where he spent the night curled up like a rat on a pile of clean rags.
When morning came, he dragged himself into a mop closet where he splashed cold water on his face and tried to gargle away the foul, putrescent taste which filled his mouth. At last he managed to clear some of the fog befuddling his brain. And when he was almost lucid again, he reviewed the events of the previous night.
Perhaps he had been too hasty in believing Siegel's words. They had sounded true last night in the steam room. But now that his brain had dried out a little, he realized that they might just as well have been the raving lies of a drunken, loudmouthed braggart. It simply wasn't possible for his wife-his sweet, innocent Ellen-to be guilty of the things that Siegel said she had done.
It was true that she had been neglecting him this past week, brushing him off every time he tried to get into her; but that didn't mean that she was cheating on him. Last night he was drunk. Drunker than ever before in his life. And in his intoxicated state, the resentment which he felt as a result of his involuntary celibacy might have prompted him to accept, too quickly, the handy explanation offered by Siegel for Ellen's strange behavior. And like the pigheaded fool that drink had made of him, he had been unfair to Ellen, convicting her without a trial.
Now, standing in the living room of their little cottage, and certain that she was not at home, he wanted nothing more than to throw himself at her feet and beg her forgiveness for getting drunk and failing to come home last night. She was a good kid. And he was sure that she would understand. After all, boys will be boys.
And as for Siegel, he'd attend to him personally, first chance he got. There were a lot of things he'd take from a buddy, but nobody was going to talk that way about his wife and get away with it. He saw no reason, however, to say anything to Ellen about what he had heard or how he had reacted. After all, she'd have a right to be mad at him forever if she knew that he had, even for one drunken minute, believed her capable of committing adultery.
He looked quickly at the clock and did a double take, opening his eyes wide in surprise. It was really late. They'd have him marked AWOL if he didn't get his ass in gear. There was barely time for him to shower, shave, and get into a clean uniform before reporting to the base. But first, maybe he ought to stop in and see Marilyn, the woman who lived down the road. Maybe she would know where Ellen had gone, and he'd get a chance to talk to her before he left for work.
He left the cottage quickly, leaving the door open in his haste, and heading for Marilyn's cabin at a trot, his feet pounding noisily on the packed dirt road. Stepping up to the door, he knocked loudly, waiting a moment before knocking again. "Hi," he called. "Anybody home?" Nobody answered his knock, and he was about to leave in disappointment when he remembered hearing Ellen mention that the photographer and his wife had converted the cabin's back room to a darkroom where they spent a great deal of their time. Maybe they were in back and didn't hear him calling.
He put his hand on the doorknob, turning it cautiously to see whether it was locked. He heard a click, and the door swung towards him slowly, creaking on its rusty hinges. "Hello," he called, stepping inside. "Anybody here?" He walked through .the tiny kitchen and on into the long, high-ceilinged living room.
Holy shit, he thought. Looks more like a photography studio than a living room. Attracted to the expensive looking equipment which ringed the bed at the far end of the room, he strolled towards it for a closer look. Obviously, no one was home. And he knew that the right thing for him to do would be to leave at once. But he wasn't hurting anything. And he was sure nobody would mind if he just took a look.
As he walked past a small table in the middle of the living room floor, a stack of pictures caught his eye. They looked like dirty pictures, and he couldn't help bending over the table to examine them more closely. When he glanced at the top one, he couldn't believe his eyes. It was of Marilyn, the photographer's wife. She was stretched out on the bed, stark naked, and her hands were touching her tits while a seductive expression played across her face.
He picked up the picture and held it in front of his eyes, feeling his cock harden against the front of his pants as he studied the photo of Marilyn's naked body. Her tits were fantastic. Even better than those on the girl at the massage parlor. They looked firm and full, standing straight out from her body like boulders on the prairie, with no hint of sag. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to imagine what it would be like to hold those two perfect boobies in his hands.
Looking at the picture again, he noticed for the first time that Marilyn was not alone. There appeared to be someone else on the bed with her. But the camera had cut off all but a single naked shoulder which protruded into the picture at the lower right hand corner. Teddy moved the photograph from side to side, trying to get a better look at Marilyn's cunt. But the angle of her leg put it in a shadow, and all he could see were a few curling strands of bristly pubic hair.
Then he remembered the rest of the pictures. Maybe some of them would be of Marilyn too. And maybe he would be able to get a clearer view of the redhead's gorgeous body. Reaching for the stack, he lifted it, trying to remember exactly how he had found it so that he could return it to its proper place before he left. Taking a quick look at the second photograph in the stack, he gasped in shock and horror.
Marilyn was in it all right, naked as before, and lying on her back. Only this time, he could see the person with her as well. And what he saw made him want to puke. Sitting next to Marilyn, one hand on her huge creamy tits, was Ellen, his wife. She too was naked, and, like Marilyn, her face was a mask of sheer animal lust. She looked as though playing with the other woman's breasts was the greatest thing that had ever happened to her. Her eyes were riveted to the redhead's body and she was smiling fiendishly. Teddy simply couldn't understand it.
He thumbed quickly through the other pictures, not wanting to see any more, but unable to stop looking. Each one was more horrible than the last. In one of them, Ellen's fingers were tangled in the curling hair of Marilyn's pussy, tugging at the ragged pink lips and pulling them wide apart. And in another, her lips were pressed to one of the redhead's nipples, sucking on it like a baby with a bottle. In that one, she was on her knees bent all the way forward over Marilyn's recumbent body. The cheeks of her boyish little ass were parted, presenting the camera, and Teddy, with a remarkable view of her cunt and ass-hole, both of which were coated with a thick and slimy moisture.
Teddy was completely aghast. He couldn't believe that Ellen was capable of such filth. But here was the proof. And the camera didn't lie.
He studied the pictures carefully, becoming sicker and more furious with each one that he saw. The worst, by far, showed Ellen lying on top of Marilyn, her face buried between the older girl's legs. The camera had been in the perfect position for this one, and he could see, very clearly, that Ellen's tongue was in Marilyn's pussy. The thought of his wife licking and smelling the woman's slimy cuntal membranes, which probably stank and tasted of urine, made him gag. And, for a moment, he thought that he would vomit all over the photographs.
But Ellen looked like she was enjoying it. Her eyes were glowing with a strange light, one which Teddy had never seen before. And although he couldn't be sure, it looked like Marilyn was doing the same thing to her. He could see the top of her head, framed by the cheeks of Ellen's sinewy ass, her face apparently pressed against the fount of his young wife's snatch.
Folding the picture with trembling hands, he thrust it angrily in his pocket. He was not certain that he could ever bring himself to look at the filthy thing again, but he refused to leave it there for the perverted, prying eyes of Marilyn or her depraved husband. It was their fault that this had happened to Ellen. For until she came to this terrible place, she had been pure and unspoiled. A fragrant and delicate flower, fresh from a country meadow.
Now she was damaged. Forever soiled. Siegel had obviously been telling the truth in the steam room last night. His wife had betrayed him, giving her body to his buddy like some streetwalking whore. He had been fucking her regularly, he said. She did anything he asked, he said. Ugh! It was making him sick.
Teddy could only begin to imagine what acts of filth and degradation were included in Siegel's "anything." After looking at these pictures, it was evident that there was nothing she wouldn't do. And she was even part lezzie! That was the worst part of all. She must have done the same things to Siegel that she did to Marilyn. Oh, how horrible. Teddy had heard about women who were willing to do things with their mouths and tongues to the cocks of men. But to learn that his own wife was one of them....
"Nnnnnnnnn," he groaned, his hands clenching into fists and his body quivering in anguished frustration. He ground his teeth and slitted his eyes, filling himself with hate .and simmering it in the pressure cooker of his crazed mind. You did this to her, he thought, looking around the little cabin. You did this! Then he exploded, flames of fury burning incitingly at his brain.
"You fucking bastards," he screamed, flinging the rest of the pictures across the room and lashing out with flying feet at the table which had held them. He kicked at it until it flew crazily against a wall, two of its legs snapping as it fell.
"You mother fuckers," he howled, picking up an ashtray which had fallen to the floor and hurling it at one of the floodlights which surrounded the bed. "You bastards. You lousy cocksucking bastards." He began kicking at the tripods which held Ralph's cameras, sending them toppling in all directions and not stopping until they had all fallen to the floor. Then he walked among them, kicking and stomping until the floor was covered with shards and splinters of broken glass mingled with bits of bent and mangled black metal.
"You dirty shit heads. You rat mother fuckers." He continued the stream of invective, now in a softly murmured voice, as he walked around the room, methodically destroying everything in sight. Then, still mumbling, he headed for the door, kicking it open with a vicious swing of his leg.
He walked from the cabin in a blind daze, his mind intoxicated with the violence of his emotion. A few steps out of the door, he bumped into Marilyn, who was returning from a walk to the post office.
"Hello, Teddy," she said brightly, not yet noticing that her cabin door was wide open and swinging on its hinges. "Looking for Ellen?"
Her words ended his silent angry soliloquy. And her smiling face rekindled the fury which gnawed at his vitals. "You cunt!" he spat at her, his voice a shriek. "You lousy rotten cunt." Lashing out with one clenched fist, he hit her hard on the side of the head.
Marilyn rocked, almost losing consciousness from the force of his blow. "What...?" she sputtered. But Teddy hit her again, this time in the belly, putting all his weight behind his flying fist.
"Ooooooooh," she moaned, her knees buckling. Blackness was beginning to close in around her and she pitched forward, falling against Teddy's wiry and muscular body. Wrapping his arms around her, he caught her and dragged her backwards into the cabin. Through half-closed eyes, she saw the shambles which he had made of the place, and she turned her head to look up at him, an expression of astonishment on her face. She had no idea of what had gotten into him. But he seemed to have gone berserk. He was like a crazy man, his bloodshot eyes rolling in their sockets.
"Bitch," he spat, shoving her away from him. She tripped over a broken piece of camera, toppling onto her back on the floor. The long faded-denim dress that she was wearing hiked halfway up her legs when she fell, exposing her smooth white thighs to his hostile stare. In spite of his anger, he felt his cock stirring as he looked down at her.
"Please, Teddy," she said, her voice almost hysterical. "I don't know what all this is about, but try to calm down."
"Calm down?" he said, aiming a kick at her but missing by an inch. Marilyn tried to struggle out of his reach, her skirt rising higher. Teddy could see a flash of white as her panties were momentarily exposed. It touched something in his brain. "I know what you deserve," he shouted. "To be fucked like the filthy bitch you are."
Bending forward, he grabbed her skirt, twisting its material in his hands and pulling with all his might. The cloth gave way, parting with a loud rip. He pulled the tatters from her body and flung them across the room. Then he reached for the soft fabric of her white cotton panties.
"No, Teddy," she said, pleading for reason. "Don't make this mistake. You'll regret it all your life. Stop and think about what you're doing."
But the young cuckold was too immersed in his rage to be conscious of her words or of the look of terror which darkened her pretty face. Inserting his fingers under one of the leg bands, he gripped the step-ins at the crotch and tore them from her. Marilyn whimpered as a tattered shred of material pulled deep into her cunt, bruising the sensitive inner membranes. Then he stripped it from her and she was naked from the waist down. Teddy licked his parched lips when he stopped to stare down at her uncovered pussy. The hair-fringed slash was puckered open, its interior exposed and winking a glistening, shiny pink. Marilyn, seeing the look in his eyes, tried to snap her legs together to seal the portal of her sex, but he grabbed her ankles quickly and held them in his vise-like grip.
Pulling them open, he dropped between her thighs, kneeing his way to her crotch. Then, letting go of her ankles, he unzipped his pants and took out his cock. I'll show this perverted little bitch, he thought. I'll fuck her to death. Marilyn tried to wiggle away from him, her body writhing about on the floor in her effort. But he grabbed her hips, pinning her helplessly to the carpet. Her legs, wedged open by his body, kicked futilely in the air behind him. But she didn't scream, knowing that there was no one within a mile to hear or to help her.
Teddy humped viciously with his hips, jabbing at her cunt with the head of his hard-on. His prick struck the soft, silky surface of her inner thigh, bruising her painfully. But, undaunted, he rocked forward again. This time he came closer to hitting the mark. His cock, like an unstoppable battering ram, beat against her, injuring the thin band of skin which separated her dry but pouting vagina from the tight little slit of her ass-hole.
"Oooooowwwww," she wailed, the pain of his clumsy fumblings bringing tears to her eyes. "That huuuuuuurrrrrrts."
"Then help me," he commanded. "Help me find the hole." He drove forward again, this time attacking her tender clitoral mound with the bludgeon of his dick.
But Marilyn refused to cooperate. She couldn't. Not even if he killed her. She continued to buck and roll in a vain attempt to break free of his grasp, her gyrations constantly changing the position of her pussy and making it impossible for him to do anything but beat her all about the loins with his club-like erection. Then, because it was inevitable, his penis found its goal.
"Noooooooo," she cried as she felt his cock prying at the lips of her cunt, pushing them out of its way as it forced entry into her rubbery-dry vaginal cavity. He drove forward quickly, penetrating her with one long, abrupt stroke. The un-lubricated friction of his first punishing thrust made her scream in agony.
"Ungh," he grunted, the sudden entry of his cock in the too-dry orifice hurting before him. He drew back, withdrawing his sword from her cruelly stabbed pussy until nothing remained inside but its deadly pointed tip. The outer lips of her vulva closed tightly around the fist-like head of his cock, squeezing it erotically in spite of Marilyn's groans of protest. Her sensuous response was automatic, the conditioned reflex of a body which had been fucking for more than a decade.
Its effect on Teddy was extreme. It sent his dangling testicles into a flurrying whirl of activity, working to churn out the sticky white fluid which bloated his scrotum and flooded his tubes. His cock throbbed rhythmically, swelling and contracting in conversation with the well-exercised muscles of her pulsating pussy. Groaning mightily, he rolled forward, burying his bludgeoning cock to the hilt in the tormented chamber of her cunt.
"Oooooooooohhhhhhh," he bawled, feeling the tip of his probing penis crash bluntly against her cervix and eliciting a little grunt of pain from her twisted lips. She was becoming a little looser now, her cuntal walls moistened by the reluctant flow of her lubricating juices. When he pulled back, cocking his hammer for another blow, her cunt lips lapped gently at the silky surface of his penile shank.
They followed its retreat, turning out when his cockhead threatened to slip from their grasp. Marilyn's face stung, where he had struck her, and her belly ached from the force of his punch, but her pussy was beginning to tingle. She had heard that when rape was inevitable the best course to follow was to relax and enjoy it. And she tried to force her body to follow the old one-liner's advice, but she could not. Although her cunt had moistened and the violence of his thrusts were no longer causing her any pain, she continued to fight him with all the strength that remained to her.
She was not horrified at the physical fact of what he was doing to her. She had been fucked violently before, taken by force. But never raped. Being taken against her will was an offense to her integrity as a woman. As a person. And although he was obviously being driven by an insanity which robbed him of all reason and relieved him of responsibility for his acts, she had to fight him. To resist him with all her power or be forever dishonored.
But she didn't have long to fight. For each grinding forward stroke of Teddy's undulating body brought him closer to climax. The tension building inside him was monumental, pressing against his brain from all directions at once and filling his vision with whirling patterns of flashing light. His ears rang to a cacophonous erotic symphony which had started pianissimo but was rapidly building to a mind-shattering crescendo.
"Ooooooooohhhh," he wailed, and Marilyn felt his cock jump inside her. The first hot gush of semen bubbled from its tip, filling her womb with sticky warmth. When his orgasm began, she went limp, her struggling over. He had beaten her. But he hadn't won an easy victory.
She sobbed softly as his penis discharged itself inside her. Unable to prevent it, she had become a receptacle for his lust. She remained perfectly still while he rolled and bobbed atop her, sating his desires now without regard to the violent hatred which had originally impelled him to assault her. Soon he would be finished. And then she would bathe.
When it was done, Teddy rose quickly, buckling his belt and zipping the front of his trousers absently. His eyes were vacant, like the empty windows of a long-deserted tenement. He stood for a moment, looking woodenly at the rumpled figure on the floor. Then he glanced around him, mindlessly surveying the carnage wrought by his tantrum of revenge.
"Not enough," he muttered. "Not e-fucking-nough." Turning his back to Marilyn, he strode purposefully from the cabin.