Chapter 2
June Ryder pulled heavily on her cigarette and stared unseeingly ahead. The television was flickering soundlessly ... she had turned it down because she couldn't stand the noise. She had had two gin and tonics and felt she could do with a third. But already she had the beginnings of a nagging headache and she was afraid another drink would aggravate it.
It was already eleven-thirty and the pretty brunette hadn't heard a word from Don. Anger and resentment had faded to worry, and even now, worry was abating and she was beginning to feel infuriated again. Surely if anything had happened to her husband the police or someone would have gotten in touch with her. She thought of the beautiful duckling she had prepared with a special black cherry sauce. Now it was hard and dry in the oven and the sauce was reduced to less than half its size. Where the hell is he? she kept asking herself again and again. When eight o'clock had come round, she phoned his office but there was no reply.
So she had waited ... and waited. She hadn't felt hungry herself and now the two drinks were playing havoc with her empty stomach. Oh God, how could he do this to me? He knows how much I wanted him to be home on time tonight.
Don seldom worked overtime, but often he didn't get home until seven-thirty or so, because he stopped to have a drink or go bowling with his buddies. But unless he was only half an hour late, he always tried to let her know. Unable to help herself, the unhappy young wife began pacing up and down the living room. What a way to spend our anniversary, she thought resentfully. Her eye caught the fabulous brilliancy of the dozen long stem roses that had arrived that afternoon and her mood softened. At least, he had thought of her and she had been thrilled to get them. Maybe something had happened to him ... an automobile accident or some other mishap....
A shiver of apprehension curdled through her and she wondered again if she should phone the police. Maybe even now, Don was lying hurt somewhere, in a hospital, or worse still, maybe even....
Her straining ears caught the sound of a car turning into the driveway. Her first reaction was one of immense relief. Oh thank God he's home safe!
Still concerned, she threw open the front door and called out:
"Don, is everything all right?"
"Why the hell shouldn't everything be all right?"
The rough reply stung her like a whiplash. Her concern faded and was immediately replaced with cold seething anger. He sounded as if ... as if he was drunk!
A spasm of guilt convulsed Don when he saw his wife standing there and heard the concern in her voice. But he couldn't stop himself from making his cruel retort. He had successfully obliterated all concern about her and her plans from his lustfully enflamed brain as he sat through a second performance of Wanda Wallace's scintillating striptease. It was only when he realized that the tantalizing blonde was not appearing any more that night that he had begun to think again about June and what he had done to her.
He was sure she'd be furious-she had every right to be-and he had no excuse whatsoever. He certainly couldn't tell her outright what he'd been up to. Misery and guilt had consumed him as he sped home, hoping that the cops wouldn't come his way. He had had far too many drinks at the club and his head was feeling rotten. Not to mention his wallet. Christ, he must have blown about thirty dollars on their goddamn second-rate drinks! What a stupid ass I am, he kept telling himself as he bleakly considered what he'd say to his wife. He knew it was nearly midnight and that she had been waiting all this time without a word from him, not knowing what had happened.
When she'd opened the door, he had been prepared for anger, abuse, a tantrum. But not for concern and worry. Now he'd blown it completely with his crude answer.
"You goddamn bastard!" June screamed vehemently, not caring which of her neighbors might be listening. "How dare you come home at this hour of the night and in a state like this?"
Her eyes were blazing and her rage was registered plainly on her distorted face.
Don pushed his way past her and strode into the living room.
"You've a right to talk!" he snarled bitterly, "screaming like a witch at the front door. What'll the neighbors think?"
"I don't give a damn what the neighbors think, and neither do you apparently. Well, what excuse have you got? I'll be pretty anxious to hear what kept you out till midnight on our anniversary!"
"Mind your own fucking business! I'm a free agent ... I don't have to report my comings and goings to you! You're not my keeper!"
"No, but by God I'm your wife! And I've a right to know where you've been. I've been worried sick about you and all the time you've been boozing it up in some sleazy dive!"
"Yeah, celebrating our ten glorious years of marriage!"
His contemptuously sarcastic tone chilled her to the marrow.
"Yes, it's been a real party for me these last ten years, waiting around for you to grow up! Only it hasn't happened yet and I doubt if it ever will!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"What do I mean? I'll tell you...." June's voice was icy calm and belied her tumultuous feelings inside. "You know what you are? A perennial college boy ... Still right there on campus, ogling the sophomores, sneaking beer into the dorm, slipping off to gang-bang a whore with your buddies...."
It was then that he hit her.
It was a reflex action and he didn't know what he was doing until he saw her reeling backwards on the sofa. But he couldn't take her jeering assessment of him any longer. It wasn't true ... she was being unfair. Just because he still liked to meet his old college buddies, have a drink or do a little bowling ... that didn't mean he was immature. They were normal male activities. Nothing wrong in that!
June stared at him with hate in her eyes, her jaw and cheek stinging from his blow. She knew she shouldn't have said those things to him, but they were true. Sure, that had been part of his attraction for her initially ... his boyish good looks and his youthful enthusiasm for everything. But sometimes ... if only he were a little more mature. Now she had spoken her mind for the first time in years and look what happened.
"Honey, I'm sorry. I guess I lost my head."
"Stay away from me!" she hissed venomously, cowering away from him.
He could feel the hatred emanating from her body and it kindled something cruel and implacable inside him.
His eyes narrowed and a dull angry flush suffused his cheeks. He'd had enough. She had told him what she really thought of him and now she was acting as if he was dirt.
"All right, I've had enough of your little game. Just because I'm a little late for some lousy dinner ... "
"A LITTLE late-"
"And you're a shitty cook anyway! But we'll celebrate all the same. Go get me a drink and make it quick!"
"You're drunk already!"
"I said go get me a drink!"
"Get it yourself! I'm not your slave!"
Infuriated beyond control, the enraged husband sprang at her and grabbed her long brown hair. Then he pulled her toward the liquor cabinet, ignoring her cries of pain.
"Fix me a Scotch on the rocks before I break every bone in your body!"
June hesitated, quivering in his cruel grip. Then she decided to comply. It was the easiest thing to do. Her husband was in such a fury that if she objected too much, he might really get rough. She poured him his drink and silently handed it to him.
"Well, here's to us, the happily married couple!" He raised his glass exaggeratedly in the air and then proceeded to down the contents in one gulp.
He had released his wife by this time and June was wondering if she should slip away into the bathroom until he had cooled down. But she wasn't quick enough.
"Now, honey, it's time for my anniversary present," he said drunkenly and June's thoughts flew to the set of Executive Monopoly she had bought for him. It was his favorite game and this particular set was a new, more complicated approach. Some anniversary this was!
"Get your clothes off, baby and give me a real treat!"
"You're crazy!" June spat back.
"I said get your goddamned clothes off before I tear them off!"
"What are you going to do?"
"Now what do you think? After ten years of married life, what do you think I'm going to do?"
"If you think I'm going to let you-"
"You don't have to 'think' and you don't have to 'let me'. I've got my rights as your husband, don't forget!"
"You're disgusting ... an ... an animal!"
"Well, well, well! So I'm an animal! And what does that make you? A bitch?"
June flinched from his taunting words. Oh God, what was happening, and what had she got herself into? She ought to have kept her mouth shut when he'd come home and then none of this would have happened. But where was it going to end?
"Listen, baby, take your clothes off and do it quick!"
His voice had changed. It was no longer just the voice of a drunken rage. It was colder, more insistent and infinitely more menacing.
Don watched as she stripped off her clothes with frightened, careless movements. So completely different from Wanda, who had made a real art of it. Wanda! He knew that she had cast a real spell over him and he couldn't stop thinking about her. He had to figure out some way of seeing her again ... really seeing her. Just to watch her on the stage with all those other guys was not enough. She held a complete fascination for him and already she had come to embody the personification of woman. At least as he envisioned her.
June stood there trembling in her white nylon brassiere and panties. Don was so strangely silent that she didn't know what to say or do next. And he was staring at her so fixedly.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" he barked suddenly. "For the last time, get naked!"
Mortified, June began to remove her last protection. Reluctantly she unclasped her brassiere and let her fearfully heaving breasts swing free, and then she eased her brief panties down over her hips and long slender legs until she finally stood there naked before him.
The scared young brunette couldn't bring herself to look at her glowering husband. She felt more ashamed and humiliated than she had ever been in her life and, as well as that, she was waiting with trepidation for her drunken husband's next move.
She was of medium height, with a slender but well-proportioned body, yet Don thought that compared with Wanda, she looked slight and almost insignificant. The long glossy brown hair that he had always admired seemed drab and dull compared with the stripper's golden tresses, and he wished with all his heart that it were the glamorous blonde who stood naked in front of him. The second striptease show had afforded him only another brief glimpse of her voluptuous naked body, but it had been enough to inflame him even more with lascivious desire for her. And now he felt his wife to be a poor substitute.
"Why don't you get on with it?" June said resignedly, unable to bear the silence any longer.
"I can tell you're really looking forward to fucking," her husband sneered, as he stumbled closer to her.
Unconsciously, June cringed backward, unable to stand the thought of his hands on her trembling naked body. Her gesture of disgust was not lost on Don and his anger flared into a raging flame of violence again.
"Come here, you goddamn bitch ... I'll show you who's boss around here!"
He pulled her roughly up against him and ground his mouth down on hers in a tight demanding kiss. June struggled wildly in his unwelcome embrace, her fists hammering against his hard-muscled chest.
"By Christ, I'll teach you," he gasped as he flung her face downward on the sofa. His pride had been mortally wounded and now his anger was uncontrollable. His only thought was to punish the woman who had humiliated him by puncturing his ego.
June's body was wracked with helpless sobs. Fear convulsed her and her heart was hammering in her chest. She knew that she ought to do something to placate him, but she couldn't bring herself to try it. Anyway it probably wouldn't work-it was too late for that. He was in an ugly unpredictable mood and a lot of it was her own fault.
Oh God, why didn't I leave well enough alone? she moaned inwardly as she quivered in panic-stricken apprehension. Her heart nearly stopped when she felt his hard clawing hands on her body again. They kneaded her flesh roughly, running along her sides and dropping to the smoothly rounded half-moons of her buttocks.
The liquor-inflamed husband began to knead the flaccid nether cheeks, pulling them crudely apart, straining the dark trembling crevice unbearably. His wife's moans of fear and pain only incensed him further, banishing any tenderness that was in danger of creeping into his anger-deranged brain.
He could only see this woman as his enemy and he was determined to subdue her, to put her in her place for the hurt she had caused him.
A deep ache gnawed incessantly at his loins, left over from the vibrant urgency of his desire for the lovely blonde stripper a few hours earlier. His cock felt as if it were on fire and his testicles felt heavy and full. His hands kneaded her quivering flesh furiously while his brain became more and more inflamed with lustful anger and lewd desire. Lewdly he ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, all the way to her wetly shivering cunt, and she pulled back instinctively from his unwanted touch as his fingers tightened even harder on her quivering pussy-flesh.
"Keep still and take what's coming to you...."
June heard him fumbling with the zipper of his fly and a surge of terror shuddered through her. Oh God, he's really going to go through with it!
"Please, Don darling, let's talk about-"
"It's too damn late for that," he snarled viciously, "now's the time for action...."
Pulling out the throbbing length of his fully erect penis, the revenge-minded husband guided it towards the cringing split between her satin-smooth ass-cheeks. The huge bulbous head was flushed purple with the suppressed blood of his lascivious desire, and as he trailed it along the moist dark crevice, a chill of forbidden pleasure lurched through his liquor-sodden body.
I'II show her who wears the pants in this house ... perennial college boy, hah! ... I'll teach her that it's no college boy she's dealing with....
His middle finger began to circle luridly around the crinkled hairless opening of her anus and his eyes bulged with perverted excitement as he stared at the tiny brown orifice. He began to prod at it, jabbing his finger against its rubbery resisting surface.
"Oh please stop, Don ... don't do that." June begged, outraged beyond belief at what he was doing to her.
But her plea was like a green light to the young angered husband and without further hesitation he rammed his middle finger into the tightly clenched ring.
"Aaahhhhhh ... Aaaggghhhh ... Aaaggghhh ... Please stop ... pleeeease!"
But Don was oblivious to her cries as he screwed harder into the dark tight passage, feeling the ridged inner membrane closing in like a rubber band around his intruding finger. Desperately June tried to wriggle her impaled buttocks free of his finger, but her every frantic movement only served to allow him deeper illicit entry into her forbidden depths.
Shame surged through the debased wife and her face crimsoned from the realization of what her husband was doing to her. He's ... he's gone crazy, she told herself again and again and it was her only consolation. Nothing else could explain his obscene gesture ... something she had never dreamed he'd ever do to her.
Christ, it's really tight, Don thought as he finally began to withdraw his finger from her virginal rectum. His cock was now pounding heavily, the surface flushed and quivering and little pinpricks of licentious pleasure were stabbing at his feverish flesh. His whisky-soaked brain urged him on to put into practice the salacious thoughts which were fermenting in his deepest consciousness and he was filled with uncontrollable bravado. All he wanted to do was to subjugate his wife in the most debased way possible, to make her realize that she had underestimated him completely.
June crouched on the sofa in an agony of fear, the pain in her ravaged rectum burning throughout her loins. She didn't know what her husband intended to do to her ... nameless imaginings tried to surface in her dazed brain but she extinguished them. It was better not to think about anything, but just try to bear whatever humiliation he was bent on heaping on her.
Once again she felt his hands crawling over her trembling buttocks and felt them being pulled and forced apart cruelly.
"Oh please, Don, you're hurting me...."
Her husband smiled sadistically, his lips drawn taut over his strong white teeth.
"Nothing like I'm going to, though...."
June's blood ran cold and her heart nearly stopped. What did he mean? What punishment had he in mind for her?
Then she felt the unmistakable contact of his hard spongy cock-head against her finger-spread ass-cheeks and a chill of paralyzing horror ran through her vulnerably pinioned body.
Oh dear God, no, surely he can't be thinking of that ... it isn V human ... he'll kill me....
Don positioned his massively swollen cock at the tiny shivering aperture of his wife's anus and he felt perversely exhilarated at the sight of the appalling difference in circumference. He flexed his hips forward in an exploratory nudging and he heard his defenseless wife whimper with new pain.
"Oh please don't, Don ... don't do this to me...."
"Quit whining, bitch ... the time has come for you to pay for all your insults...."
"But please, darling, not this way...."
"Why not this way? Getting fucked in the ass is the only way to deal with someone like you!"
Oh God, then he is going to do that ... Oh, someone help me ... he'll split me in two....
His eyes nearly popping out of his head with sadistic pleasure, the young husband tightened his savage grip on his wife's hips and surged forward with all the strength of his pent-up anger.
"AAAARRRRHHHHHHHHHHHH ... OH GOD, STOP...." June cried out agonizingly as a sheet of blinding pain enveloped her. Desperately she tried to pull her imprisoned buttocks down and away from the savage attack, but escape was impossible. She was a slavish victim to her husband's cruelty and there was nothing or nobody to save her from this awful outrage.
"Aaarrgggghhhhh!!!!! Aaaaaahhhhhh ... nooooooooo...." she sobbed piteously as her husband thrust hard against her futilely resisting anus. Pain exploded in blinding bursts throughout her distorted body and she suddenly wished she could die, anything to be spared from this terrible crime that he was so wantonly perpetrating on her.
Don's face was flushed from his exertions and he was beginning to think that he could never storm the barricade of her virginal rectum. But he couldn't admit defeat. Summoning up his strength, he charged forward like a rampaging bull and finally succeeded in embedding his blood-bloated cock-head in the tight, clinging opening.
"Oh God, you're killing me ... you're going to split me in two...." June moaned helplessly as she felt her rectum cleaved by the ruthless penetration of her husband's lust-engorged penis.
"Quit moving ... and for Christ's sake, stop whining...." Don gasped between clenched teeth as he strove to insert more and more of his passion-hardened penis in her warm rubbery rectal depths. He hadn't realized it would be quite this difficult to fuck her in the ass. Still he was glad he'd decided to because he knew it was really hurting her and it would amply pay her back for her insults and abuse. He was hurting her now just the way she had hurt him not half an hour ago. He knew deep down that he shouldn't have spent the evening at the Club Oasis, mesmerized by that blonde stripper, but if she had given him a chance he would have made things right for her.
June felt as if she'd be crippled for life. Her loins were on fire with the pain and she was sure her rectum was torn and bleeding. But her physical lacerations were nothing to the anguish she was suffering mentally. She felt bathed in shame and degradation, sure she could never look the world in the face again-and all because of her husband's brutal temper and perverted instinct. He was acting like some kind of animal and making her the defenseless victim of his illicit desire.
Never in all her life had she dreamed of such a thing happening to her. And on her wedding anniversary, of all times. They should by rights be lying warmly in each others arms now, satiated with tender love-making. Instead, she was broken with pain and misery, ravaged in a savage sadistic way by her drunken bestial husband.
"Oh dear Lord, why can't you leave me alone?" she moaned aloud, tears running in streams down her cheeks.
Don heard her sobs and felt intoxicated with the evidence of his masculine power. Inch by inch he was succeeding in sinking his blood-heavy cock up into her sorely stretched back passage. He could feel the bruised inner flesh slowly giving way to his superior strength and in a few moments, it would be all the way in!
"Aaahhhhhh ... it's all the way into your asshole now!" he gasped triumphantly as the sperm-laden sac of his balls slapped wetly against the cheeks of her helplessly upturned buttocks.
June cringed from his obscene words as much as from the overwhelming pain of his complete impalement. She was past caring now anyway. It was no use resisting. Struggles were futile against his liquor-goaded power and nothing could turn him from his lascivious desire, she realized. She could only endure the mortification he was heaping on her, just as she had to bear the terrible pain he was causing her by his unnatural penetration of her rectum.
Don held his lust-inflated cock inside her for a moment, feeling triumphantly victorious, excited by the sight of his wife completely powerless against his wishes. He had subjugated her and now she knew who was boss. He had degraded her in a way which she'd never forget and because of it he could always maintain his superiority over her.
He began to withdraw his long hard cock, easing it slowly out of the still dry passage, wringing fresh moans of pain from his defenseless wife. When just the lust-bloated head was still embedded in the tight sphincteral ring, he rammed forward again, this time regardless of her futile resistance. A tiny amount of inner secretions helped him to establish a slow laborious rhythm as he began to fuck in and out of her ass with savage brutish strokes.
"Well now, Miss know it all, how do you like this coming from a college-boy?" His voice was taunting and for the first time June realized fully how she had wounded him with her careless angry remarks. She had attributed his sadistic act to the drinks he'd taken all evening when he'd been out, but now it was obvious that her own reaction to his behavior had a lot to do with this final outrage.
"You think you're such hot shit," he panted raggedly, "now maybe this fucking you're getting in the asshole will bring you down to the level of the rest of us...."
He's wrong, he's wrong, she thought miserably. I don't act superior, I don't ... it's not fair....
Don continued to batter against her upraised buttocks, sweeping her thighs aside with each flesh-splitting instroke. His churning balls weighed heavily against her bottom and her entire body was wracked with unbearable pain. Oh God, will it never end ... Even though the "end" would mean him spurting his white hot sperm into her forbidden depths, she still wanted it to happen so that she could be free of him. So that he would release her from this hell on earth. Then she'd decide what to do, how to pay him back ... in fact, whether she would leave him for good. She didn't think she could bring herself to even look at him after this disgusting act, never mind go on living with him. But she'd work all that out, just as soon as this terrible ordeal was over.
Don felt all his anger and passion and lust converging on the tingling center of his balls. His head was filled with a strange roaring and he felt as if his blood was cascading hotly through his veins.
"Move that goddamn ass of yours...." he commanded roughly as he pounded against her sorely strained backside in a fiercely gathering momentum. Already he could feel the tumultuous churning in his balls give way to a volcanic rumbling and then....
"Aaaaaaagggggghhhhhhhhh ... I'm cumming ... shove your ass back, for Chrissakes...."
He was cumming in her ass! The hot sticky fluid of his sperm shot along the jerking tube of his cock and erupted in a roiling torrent in the raw, seared depths of her helplessly flooded rectum.
June flinched from the burning pain of the salty liquid as it seeped into her torn back passage and flowed into the secret forbidden recesses of her bowels. This then was the final ultimate insult and she closed her eyes tightly in a futile effort to block out the sickening reality.
She was utterly degraded now by her husband's depravity and nothing would erase the memory of these shameful moments. She could still feel her husband pumping into her from behind and hear his labored, grunt-like breathing as he emptied his last into her forever stretched rectum. She would never be the same again and she was sure she could never forgive Don for what he had done to her. Although she was the helpless victim, he had destroyed her self-respect and ruined the sanctity of their marriage. In fact, nothing would be the same again. An outrage such as his uncaring assault on her rectum was against everything she had ever believed in-he had swept aside all her life-long concepts in a single drunken act.
With a gasp of heartfelt relief, she realized that his rapidly deflating penis was at last slipping from her cum-flooded rectum, and moments later, she heard her husband trudge heavily off toward the bedroom. She was alone again and gratefully she slipped down onto the living room floor, too dejected and beaten in spirit to do anything but be thankful for the end of her ordeal.