tagMind ControlIt's The Thought That Counts

It's The Thought That Counts

byjuanwildone©

This was just strange. Diane looked across the table, shifting her gaze from Paula to Tami and back to Paula. Tami had just refilled Diane's wine glass after being told "No thanks, I've had enough." Paula simply brushed off Diane's refusal and encouraged Tami to pour the wine. Strange indeed, first they cancelled their mall crawl, and now they seemed determined to get her drunk. Diane sipped her wine, set the glass down and pushed back from the table. "That's enough for me. Now does either one of you care to tell me what's going on or is it time for me to go home."

The startled expressions that danced across Paula and Tami's face were unsettling to say the least. It didn't help when they yell "No" in unison.

"No...no to what? No to telling me what's up with the two of you or no to me going home." Diane was flummoxed to say the least. The three of them had been friends and neighbors for over three years, yet over the past couple of hours Tami and Paula had been acting peculiar if not actually down right strange. "Well..."

Paula and Tami glanced at one another and at Paula's nod, Tami spoke. "You know that we care about you..."

Diane shook her head and started to stand.

Paula burst forth "Do you remember when we all went to the spa last month." Diane nodded. "The masseuse who gave you your massage pulled Tami and I aside while you were dressing. She said that she saw all kinds of things in her work. She asked if you ever said anything about your husband ... about him being overly physical."

Tami jumped in, "She said that - oh Diane - she asked if we knew that your husband beat you ... that he sexually abused you."

"What?" Flummoxed became gobsmacked quicker than Diane could spell it.

"She said -- oh oh -- she told us that she noticed a number of very faint bruises on you body in areas that are associated with women who have been beaten and sexually abused. She told us to "just be on the lookout." Well, yesterday you were wearing a long sleeve blouse on a fairly warm day which normally wouldn't have meant anything but...well, we both noticed..." Paula pointed to Diane's wrists. "He tied you up before he beat you didn't he?"

Diane didn't know whether she should laugh, cry, or scream. If it weren't for the deep looks of concern on her friends' faces it would have probably been the laugh. She was as surprised as the two of them when she blushed. God how was she going to explain this?

Tami felt her heart sink as Diane's face got redder and redder. She couldn't imagine how embarrassing it must be. She had taken a class in college and seemed to recall that victims of abuse often felt tremendous embarrassment and vulnerability at their situation. "Don't be embarrassed Diane, we want to help."

Diane looked at her with unmasked incredulity. "I don't need help ... look Tami, Paula, I appreciate your concern."

"It's true Di, we're here for you. Let us help you." Paula reached across the table, placing her hand on Diane's.

Tami quickly followed suit. "You're safe now. You don't have to go through this alone. We won't allow him to hurt you ever again."

"What are you talking about? Mark hasn't hurt me."

"There's no need to protect him anymore."

"I'm not protecting him."

"It's okay -- you're safe with us."

Diane fought the urge to roll her eyes. She knew Tami and Paula meant well, but really, could they possibly be more out of line? This really was too much. Paula had a death grip on Diane's left hand and would not let go. While Tami stared goggled eyed at the red abrasions the circled Diana's right forearm. Both sputtered on in growing outrage.

"You don't have to put up with this abuse. We'll protect you ..." Tami spoke with such sincerity that Diane untangled her wrist from Paula's grip to pat the back of Tami's hand in reassurance. Paula chimed in again, "I have the number for an abused woman's shelter - we can call ..."

This went back and forth as Diane sought to dissuade her friends from action. It was only when Paula started punching numbers into her cell phone that Diane took control of the situation. Diane sighed as she realized a simple explanation wouldn't satisfy - this was going to get very uncomfortable.

"Close your phone Paula," Diane pitched her voice low and authoritative. "Right now." She nodded when Paula quickly complied. She was going to pull her sleeves down over her bruises but decided to leave them in view. She sighed again.

"Oh God there's no way to explain this except to tell you things that really are not any of your business, but I can see from your faces that if I don't tell you, poor Mark will be on your shit list for the rest of his life." Diane reached for her abandoned glass of wine. She downed it in one healthy gulp.

"I can't begin to tell you how deeply touched I am by your concern and willingness to "protect" me. But the simple truth is I don't need protection. You are right about these rope bruises and the lash marks the masseuse saw on my bottom last month - Mark is responsible, but its not his fault." Paula and Tami erupted in disagreement. Diane shook her head and raised her voice.

"Wait, wait, wait a second will you and I'll tell you everything. There are occasions - maybe once every couple of months or so when Mark is forceful in the way that he takes me..."

"Forceful, it's abuse Di. He's an animal! He has to be stopped before he really harms you! Why are you making excuses for him!"

"Stop it you two. Stop it right now and let me talk - please. I am going to tell you things about me that no one else knows and I am placing my trust in you that the two of you will honor this confidence.

"I love Mark with all of my heart, he is without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to me in my whole life. But the reason I have these (Diane lifted her forearms) goes back to a time long before I even thought that someone as wonderful as Mark would ever want someone like me."

Diane looked at her two friends and smiled, "Hello, my name is Diane, and I am the child of alcoholics, and I myself am an alcoholic and a drug addict."

Tami and Paula sat in stunned silence; mouths slack, eyes wide, breath suspended.

"Good, now that I have your attention. A little about me ..." Diane smiled. "My mom and dad were raving alcoholics; they were abusive to each other, and they were abusive parents too. My mom would beat the hell out of my dad when he was passed out drunk - I mean she just wailed on him sometimes. Dear old dad would get back at her when he sobered up - which wasn't often - by dragging my mom to their bedroom and sexually assaulting her. First you'd hear her screams of resistance when she knew he was in "one of those moods", then her pleading, begging, her agony as he would beat her and whip her with his belt. Then he would start ... fucking her, and her screams became those of pleasure; "don't stop, harder, deeper, fuck me baby, fuck me." They'd be all lovey-dovey for a couple of days then one would start drinking again and the whole thing would repeat.

"I responded by staying away from home as much as possible and poured all of my efforts into school. I only applied to colleges that were many states removed from where we lived. Once I got accepted I left and I literally never went back. In college I had to study to keep my grants and scholarships viable, so I didn't party or even date much. I did have a couple of relationships, real low energy stuff - nothing even overtly passionate. I was better at giving myself orgasms than any guy I hooked up with.

Diane refilled their three glasses with white wine. "Then I met George."

"I was working in a small cafe when this older - well at the time I was all of nineteen so a guy in his mid thirties seemed so very ... mature," Diane waved her hand dramatically. "Anyway this guy, George, came in one day and ordered a coffee. He kept looking at me - nothing creepy, just a quiet, smiling, nodding appreciation. When he left, there was a twenty dollar bill sitting there. He started coming in every day and did the same thing - $1 cup of coffee, fifteen maybe twenty minutes of quiet sipping as he glanced at his paper, then leave with a twenty dollar bill sitting there. I wasn't complaining, I needed the cash - but I it did make me think. One day curiosity got the better of me and I sat down after giving him his coffee. I was about to ask him what he was trying to prove when he just took my hand and asked me out on a date. I started to say I hardly knew him when he just smiled and said, "I'll be happy to answer any and all of your questions over dinner. Please dress formally."

"He picked me up in a limo and we went to this incredible French restaurant. He was charming, witty, and a great conversationalist. When we got back in the limo he looked at me and asked if I was going to let him kiss me before our date was over. I said yes and right then and there he kissed me; a long, slow, soft kiss that took my breath away. He was a very sensual man, always touching, always close, very much a man in charge. Well, to make a long story short, George swept me off my feet. On our second date he screwed me silly in the back of that limo. I moved in with him a couple of weeks later. I was so happy and secure. I honestly thought I had found The One.

"About three months after moving in we hosted a huge party - nothing but the young, the hip, and the beautiful in attendance. The alcohol was flowing and so was the blow; it was the first time I tried cocaine. George said it would make sex incredible - he was right, it did indeed do that. Very quickly coke became a regular part of my life - turns out I met George while he was recovering from time spent in rehab. He'd gone in to get his usage under control - he had no intention of stopping. Within months of my doing coke with him he was back into coke in a huge way. He took me along with him - pretty soon I was doing coke every day, sometimes a couple of times a day. Just like that I was an addict, although at the time I didn't know or even consider that I was one.

"For close to two years everything was great. Then George was in a serious accident - a car ran a red light and plowed right into him. He was in the hospital for two weeks and then had months and months of intensely painful physical therapy. Due to his injuries he was in constant pain and the pain killers they put him on didn't mix well with his cocaine usage. The mix of drugs really messed him up emotionally - he'd always had a temper, but he'd always gotten over things quickly. After the accident he didn't get over things - period. He was angry all the time; it was only a matter of how pissed he was.

"While he was hospitalized I decided to stop using coke. It was partly because of the accident, and partly as a reaction to how few of George's friends were there for him when he needed them. I decided to rededicate myself to school; by then I was in my senior year. George was jealous of my sudden studiousness, he wanted me to spend more time with him - meaning doing a lot of coke; I told him no way. I didn't deny him anything else. Although sex was ... well some of the pain relief drugs he took had a negative affect on his ability to perform. I was available, he just wasn't always able to get it up.

"One night he wanted sex and I was studying for a test so I said "no." We got into a huge argument and I held my ground about the importance of studying. I mean why waste an hour sucking on a limp dick; that was time I could use more wisely. Being the smart ass I was I came right out and told him that. He went ballistic in a way I had never seen. He grabbed me, dragged me to our bedroom and he tied me to our bed. I punched and kicked him, that just made him crazier. He ripped my clothes off, then his came off. Damn if he didn't have an erection and he damn well used it. He fucked the living shit out of me. It was without a doubt the roughest sex I had ever experienced in my life." Diane sighed, the memory of countless orgasms always had that affect on her. "And I loved it, I absolutely loved it. I just kept cumming and cumming."

"The next morning we talked about it. He kept apologizing over and over and I kept telling him I was okay, so everything was okay. It was only after I reminded him how wet I was and how hard he was that he finally realized how much I had enjoyed it. We ended up making love. I was so happy, I thought I had my sweet George back. I was wrong, I was so wrong, but then I was still love stupid. George started picking fights so he could lose his temper; he was really getting off tying me up and fucking me. It didn't take long for things to get out of control. One night he got so coked up crazy that we never even got around to the sex, he just knocked the living crap out of me. I mean he beat me really really bad.

"The next morning - after he fucked my ass, he untied me. He went off to work and I just lay there for the longest time. Finally, I had to go to the bathroom. It really hurt to move. When I looked in the bathroom mirror I swear I saw my mom looking back at me. I can't begin to tell you how scary that was. I packed my things and moved out that day. George tried to get me to come back but I was so intent on graduating that I refused and he finally gave up. I had to find out who I really was. I needed to learn how to live on my own. And even though I missed George, I wanted to finish school.

"George did come to my graduation and he gave me the perfect gift, an American Express card. He told me to take a year and see the world - so I did. It was one of the best things I ever did, it gave me a lot of time to think. I figured staying away from men for while would be best - did I mention that George and I had gotten into swinging?"

Paula and Tami slowly shook their heads.

"Oh, well we did. Before the accident, George got off on sharing me with his friends. I was usually so coked up at the time that I didn't care - the more the merrier; men, women, either or. When I stopped using, I also stopped swinging. But "no" doesn't work very well when you're bent over and tied to a table. After what I went through with George, I was tired of men. So I stayed away from men, sex-wise, for the next couple of years."

"You were celibate for two years?"

"Good God no! I mean that I only had sex with women." Diane noted the shocked expressions. Her clarifying comment of "I mean everybody experiments at one time or another" was received with slowly shaking heads. "You mean you never ... neither of you, not even once? Oh, well I sure did. You may not know this but Europe is a great place to be into women and to find like-minded girls who like to combine sex with travel."

"Anyway after a year and a half of traveling I came back to the States. I realized I needed a good steady job and I eventually ended up here. At the time I wasn't seeing anyone ... of either sex. I was just trying to get established. A couple of months later I met Mark - it took me a while to realize what a great guy he was and then it took even longer to maneuver him into asking me out. Once we started dating, I knew immediately he was the real deal; Mark is the kindest, sweetest, most loving man I've ever known." Diane smiled as her eyes began to tear up.

"Mark makes love me every day in every way; with his eyes, his touch - everything." Diane wiped a tear from her cheek, only to have it replaced immediately. She sniffled and sighed dramatically. "Mark's love for me is unconditional."

Paula couldn't contain herself any longer, "Yeah, it's the quiet ones that no one ever suspects. They're the ones who end up crazy. When did he start beating you?"

Diana silenced Paula with a glare. "On our third anniversary Mark and I went cruising in the Bahamas. That's when I ran into George."

Paula gasped, "Ohmygod you had an affair and Mark found out!"

"What?" Diana slammed her hand down on the table. "I did not have an affair, I could no sooner cheat on Mark than - how could you even think me capable of ...?"

Paula fell all over her self apologizing. Tami apologized too.

"I SAW George at the airport. We talked for maybe five minutes - that was all. But it did get me reminiscing and thinking. George and I were together almost three years - the one constant was sex - lots of it. And toward the end, lots of rough sex. Before he lost control and beat me I had realized that I really enjoyed the rough stuff - I like the physicality of it, the struggle, the resistance. I tried to introduced some rougher elements into our sex life ... but Mark is just too nice."

"But your bruises ..."

"Yes, I'm getting to that. One of the reasons we went to the Bahamas was to check out a new client I'd been assigned to at work; they're a talent booking agency for cruise ships; you know, musicians, magicians, dancers, that kind of thing. Part of our vacation was to spend a week on a cruise ship and do a little public relations surveying. Anyway when we got back I was going over the agencies acts when I noticed they had a number of hypnotists, some described their acts as highly erotic - adults only stuff. Suddenly I had an idea and decided I needed to contact them directly.

"It took awhile but I finally found a hypnotist who could understand what I wanted and was intrigued enough to see if it could be accomplished. It took a lot of time and persistence but we eventually succeeded. I needed rough sex occassionally. I wanted rough sex and I wanted my husband to be that alpha male take charge guy. So the hypnotist and I created a fantasy persona for Mark - Macho Marco."

"Macho Marco? Just what do you mean by fantasy persona?" Paula looked skeptically at Diane.

"I won't go into all the details but it involved a tremendous amount of research to find out what type of erotic triggers Mark had - what were his subconscious turn-ons. We found that a certain kind of erotic situation with some very mild bondage and dominating elements could arouse Mark. I started searching for stories with those same elements and changed the characters around so that the guy was either named Marco or matched Mark's physical description. Naturally the woman always matched me. Even the sexual descriptions and behaviors, in the stories were changed to resemble Mark and I.

"The hypnotist used those stories as a script for Mark and I to play out. She would take Mark into deep hypnosis and then have him play at being Macho Marco. Once we got Mark comfortable with being rough with me she devised a triggering process and an escape word that only I could implement. One thing we included within his programming is that he is not able to gag me for the most part."

"What do you mean for the most part." Paula looked at Diane with real interest. Diane blushed deeply and shrugged. Paula nodded her head and beckoned Diane to talk.

"Oh God this is embarrassing. Okay, one aspect of rough sex that really gets me revved up is rough oral sex ..."

"He bites you down there?"

"No, rough sex that might lead to extended gagging." Diane looked for signs her friends understood but seeing none she continued. "Oh God, okay - one of the things that turns me on is being face fucked. I like having a man grab handfuls of hair and pull my face into his crotch ... jamming ... his ... hard ... cock ... down ... my ... throat."

Diane shrugged when Paula blanched at her statement. Tami's reaction was a surprise; she didn't say anything but her nipples swelled immediately. "When Mark does that he's has to pull his cock completely out of my mouth every twenty seconds."

"Aren't you afraid that something might go wrong and Mark would get out of control?" Tami looked sympathetically at Diane. "I mean what if things went bad? How can you be sure everything will work according to plan."

Diane bit her lower lip and looked sheepishly at her friends.

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