Newlywed GamebyCatalina Frisco©
"So, Bill, why do you think that you have such a need to control women? Why the need to punish them so harshly, or even at all?"
Dena continued taking notes as the man spoke, it was her job. Today she was doing her pro-bono work for the community mental health center and Bill was her last patient of the day.
* * *
"Actually, Doctor Bonner, I don't know," he responded quietly.
Bill had chewed his fingernails down to the quick and Dena noticed that one of them was bleeding. She reached over and handed him a Kleenex. As Bill took it from her, she saw that he had a tear working it's way out of the corner of his left eye.
His lower lip was trembling as he searched for the words to explain why he felt so helpless and why he had such an innate need to control another human being.
Dena had no way of knowing that he was sitting there, replaying his childhood in his mind. The memories of his mother beating his father and his younger brother were all too fresh in the young man's mind. Bill only wanted to be free of the memories of that hell he endured so long ago.
He felt that if he could dominate a woman he would no longer be an impotent child, but a man who could make a woman respect him. Obtaining self-respect was something his father had failed miserably at and he refused to be a loser like his dad. He just did not know how to tell Dr. Bonner what was causing him so much pain.
"Well, I think that you do know, and you are just reluctant to share what you think with me. Is it because I am a woman? If so, I can arrange for you to see a male doctor..."
The last thing Bill wanted was to share his misery with another man, a weak man, any man at all. Even telling a woman was difficult, and her suggestion enraged him. Bill jumped from his seat in protest, grabbed Dena by her jacket and threw her onto the floor. She could feel all two hundred thirty plus pounds on her as he took her petite throat in his hands.
Dena's only thought was of how much she wanted a child with her new husband, and how much he might miss her if this lunatic succeeded in killing her today. She always thought that the tale about a person's life passing before his eyes as death approached was just a hallucination, but it wasn't, and now she knew what she had to do if she survived this attack.
* * *
A long, terrifying day behind her, Dena relaxed in her tub and waited for her husband to arrive home from work. She contemplated several ways of explaining the abrasions on her arms and throat, and the massive bruise on her back. Only the truth seemed plausible. After all, she did have a dangerous job, (Eric knew that), but Dena was afraid that her sweet husband might demand that she no longer work with the outpatients at the center.
As she recounted the afternoon in her mind, she was acutely aware that if her husband demanded her to stop the charity work, she would have to agree. There was nothing more important in her life than her husband and she wanted a family with him.
Eric was a near-perfect man, a far cry from the little boy she met on a playground so long ago. All the teasing and pig-tail pulling was forgiven. He had finally become her husband, and she knew that the future held only wonderful things for the both of them.
Her eyes closed,she slid her naked body beneath the bubbles and into the warm water. Her soul was at peace and her body was getting there. As she held her breath beneath the water, she could imagine Eric entering the bathroom without her even noticing. Maybe he would take off his clothes and join her or perhaps he would pull her out of the water and make love to her right there on the marble floor.
Dena shivered at the thought of her tender skin being ravaged on the cold floor but there was something sinfully enticing about the thought of being taken in that way. The fantasy ended as the water became tepid, and she pulled her body out of the tub and reached for a towel. She wrapped herself in it and tip-toed into the bedroom to dress for a quiet evening at home with Eric.
Dinner was ready and she had a bottle of wine open and waiting; appetizers were warm in the oven. All she needed now was her tall, sexy man with strong arms to hold her as they slow danced to Sinatra.
The little black dress would be perfect for a romantic dinner at home. She complemented the dress with the string of pearls her mother had given her on her wedding day. Dena pulled her hair back and clipped it with a tortoise shell cloisonne clip.
The final touch was a spritz of Eric's favorite perfume. She applied a wisp of fragrance on her bare neck and pulse points in anticipation of him kissing every molecule of the scent off her. As Dena stood looking into the mirror, she realized just why Eric loved her so much. She was indeed a beautiful woman; petite yet strong, and she had emerald green eyes that rivaled the most precious gems.
She never had to doubt her allure as long as she had the man of her dreams to remind her how wonderful she was, and she knew she was very lucky to have such a terrific husband. She would never forget how he made her feel the first time he held her so gently and made love to her.
* * *
Eric and Dena had only been married three months when the man at the mental health center attacked her. The brutality of the attack made Dena aware that there was something inside her that she had trouble reconciling. Something, some part, of the attack had aroused her, yet she was reluctant to admit the fact to anyone. Not even to her own therapist.
When Bill threw her to the floor with such primal force she was shocked, but she attempted to imagine her husband treating her that way. Dena had never been brutalized by a man. Every sexual encounter she ever had was with her husband and she had no plans to look elsewhere for such an adventure.
She decided to tell her husband how she felt and see if he might be willing to explore some of the darker sides of sexual play with her. Sure, she was just the slightest bit embarrassed, but theirs was a close friendship as well as a solid marriage, and she saw no reason why he would deny her requests.
* * *
The evening went well, just as Dena had planned. Eric was constantly amazed at her prowess in the kitchen, and even more amazed when Dena exceeded his expectations in the bedroom too. He thought he had taught her everything she knew, and he watched in amazement as she worked her way up and down his groin.
He realized that she knew things that he could not have taught her. Maybe her techniques were just instinct, or maybe she had taken lessons in seduction that he was not aware of. Whichever explanation was the truth did not matter to him.
Her tiny mouth on him, all over him, kissing him and sucking him to completion. She would sit on her knees, bent over at her waist and put his penis in her mouth. Dena did things to him that he had thought impossible.
Wiggling back and forth, she moved like an entity that had been put here on earth just for him. There was not a single centimeter of his body that she hadn't licked or kissed at one time, and as he rested his head on the pillow, she brought him to orgasm after orgasm.
Her warm tongue flitting all over him; around, under, encircling the head of his manhood. Oh God, she is a princess, Eric thought as she held his sac in her hands and manipulated him into yet his third orgasm of the evening. He looked down at her, her head bobbing up and down and he was hoping that he could maintain long enough to lay her down and make love to her when she was done.
Dena loved him with every ounce of life that flowed through her body. She took a deep breath and swallowed the last bit of semen that he had delivered into her mouth. Taking her right hand, she brushed the hair from her face and smiled at Eric.
"Oh, baby, was that good? You are such a man!"
She did not say another word but knelt above him and opened her legs. She reached down and pulled her soft pink, hairless lips apart and maneuvered his cock inside her. As she slowly lowered her body onto him, all Eric could do was gasp and enjoy his wife.
How many men had a woman with a sexual appetite like his wife? Very few, he imagined, and he closed his eyes and let her pleasure herself on him. He could feel the walls of her vagina squeeze together as she came and she let out such a sweet little moan that he had to look up at her.
She was smiling. Dena was always smiling. That's what he loved most about her. She was the happiest person he had ever met and he knew of nothing that could bring her spirit down.
Two hours had passed and they were both warm and content, lying in bed dreaming about the future that awaited them. Dena decided to ask him if he wanted to play a little game with her.
"Well, sure, I will do whatever you want me to do. You know that, Honey."
"This is different, kind of wild, it might make you uncomfortable, so please don't get upset with me when I tell you what I want to do," her green eyes pleading as she spoke.
Dena knew he would not deny her pleasure of any type, even if it was forbidden and dangerous.
Eric continued to play with her nipples as she spoke, ever so often he would twist one and make her squeal out in pain. He realized that she enjoyed being pinched, and he reached down beneath the sheets and pinched her clit. As he looked over at her, she nodded her head in agreement, "That's almost what I want you to do." She winked at him, got up from the bed and disappeared into the walk-in closet.
When she reappeared she was holding a leather belt and several silk scarves. She hopped back onto the bed like a little girl joining her parents on a Saturday morning. Still smiling, she handed the scarves and belt to her husband.
"What in the world do you want me to do with these?" Was his delicious little wife actually requesting a spanking?
"You want me to tie you up and spank you?"
The words seemed foreign as he spoke them and when she smiled and positioned her body spread eagle on the bed, he knew that he could give her anything she wanted, even pain. It would not be a stretch of the imagination to say that Eric had thought about playing like this too, but he never said a thing to her; he didn't want her to think that he was crazy or cruel. He had to admit to himself that he was very pleased to see this side of her personality.
Dena was just lying there on the bed waiting for him to take control and spank her for being a bad little girl.
"Come on, do it!!!!! Spank me!!!"
She giggled just like she had when he pulled her ponytail on the playground so many years ago.
Dena was in the mood to play. She bounced off the bed and grabbed the scarves from Eric. She pushed him onto the bed and began dancing around the room, using the colored scarves as imaginary lovers. Eric watched her as she moved around the bedroom. She danced as though there was some beautiful music that no one could hear but her.
Her movements were so fluid and sexy he wanted to lie there and watch her forever. His enchantress moved in slow motion, pulling the scarves around her waist and between her legs. Her perky little breasts bouncing softly against her chest. Ever so often, one of her fingers entered her mouth becoming wet, teasing him. He was almost jealous.
"Where did she learn to dance like a stripper?" He wondered.
As he watched his wife tease a thousand imaginary, leering men, he flashed back to a scene he had been repressing for many years.
* * *
Eric was in a car with his mother and they were returning home from his father's funeral. He remembered what happened when the car was pulled over by a policeman all those years ago. Eric knew the officer that pulled them over and his mother did too.
As the young boy sat in the car he could hear his mother and the officer arguing from behind the vehicle. He struggled to listen without being discovered when he realized he could see them in the side view mirror.It was then he noticed that his mother had pulled up her skirt and the officer had his fingers in her panties.
The man was smiling and so was his mother. He did not understand why they were talking so loudly because they looked as though they were enjoying one another. Then, as Eric stared in disbelief, the officer slapped his mother across the face.
There were no other automobiles on the road that afternoon; no one around to help them. The boy was horrified! His mom was going to be murdered by a cop or at least that is what young Eric thought. As he watched the sickening scene unfold, he felt something happen to him. It was the first time he ever felt sexually aroused, and it was happening as he watched his mother being treated so cruelly.
He stretched out in the front seat of the station wagon and listened to his mother sob as the man forced himself upon her. It did not seem to matter that the little boy was in the car; the officer held his mother down, ignoring her pleas and exclamations that her son should not ever be a witness to something so horrible. After so many years, he remembered the officer's response.
"He's needs to learn that women like being treated like this. He might as well begin by seeing what a slut his own mother is, right?"
Eric went to sleep that night with the firm belief that his mother must truly be a whore since she never denied it. He no longer had his father to tell him what a wonderful lady his mom really was. For twenty years Eric had forced that horrible scene to the darkest part of his memory and somehow his wife's dancing caused him to remember.
He remembered how he despised his mother for not fighting back and he wondered if all women really did like to be taken. He watched Dena as she danced and tried to imagine if she would react the way his mother did all those years ago.
Eric watched her until he couldn't bear it any longer. He got up and grabbed her arms, pulling them behind. He knew it hurt; he wanted it to hurt. That was what she wanted and he intended to give it to her.
"Are you a little slut?"
"Answer me, NOW!"
Eric was surprised at the sound of his own voice demanding his wife to answer such a ridiculous question. He knew she wasn't a slut, and he had trouble pinpointing just where inside him such poisonous thoughts had festered. This entire incident felt so wrong, yet he was extremely aroused and equally as confused.
Disregarding the voice within him that was telling him to be gentle, he pushed Dena onto the bed, causing her breath to be forced out in a panicked cry. She was now on her back, naked and wriggling, trying to get up from the bed. He pushed the back of her head down into the sheets and pulled one of the scarves around her head. He forced it into her mouth and as he looked into her eyes, all he could see was terror.
Dena couldn't speak and there were tears streaming from both eyes. Suddenly, an urge to slap her overpowered every bit of tenderness he felt for his wife and he raised his right hand into the air and brought it down as hard as he could onto the left side of her face.
"Shut up! Stop crying, you will enjoy every minute of this, do you understand? Shake your head if you understand me! Do it again! Don't you fucking move! Do you hear me? I want an answer now! Nod your head yes! I mean it!"
The terror in Dena's eyes had been replaced by total disbelief. She thought she wanted to be abused by the man she loved, but he was no longer in the room. His body was there but she was convinced that the man on top of her was not her husband but some incarnation of evil.
As she lay there, she attempted to process what was happening to her. She could feel him tying her arms and legs to the bedposts with the scarves that she had supplied. She struggled to free her wrists from the restraints, but it was useless. The silk, though sensual and soft, cut into her skin. Almost instantly, Eric slapped her in the face again, punishment for trying to free herself.
The sensation of his skin stinging her face was tolerable, but the feeling inside her resembled death. I thought he loved me. How could I have been so wrong about him? He's an animal.
Another slap, followed by her nipples being twisted made her gag with pain as she choked on the scarf in her mouth. Dena tried to lay perfectly still and she prayed that he was just joking around and that he would stop at any moment, embrace her, and tell her he didn't mean to hurt her. It only took a couple more seconds for her to know for certain that she would not be released from the game she had invited her husband to play.
He leaned over her, a dark blue scarf dangling from his mouth. He removed the hair from her face and proceeded to cover her eyes with the scarf.
"I don't want to see you crying like a pathetic baby while I'm fucking you, do you understand? Nod your head Yes! Now! Don't make me have to hurt you, okay? Understand this, I will hurt you if I have to."
As Dena nodded her head 'yes,' everything went black. She could feel his warm cruel hands touching her. Pinching parts of her body that, until an hour ago, he had only caressed. She was already sore from being pushed and slapped, but she tried to ignore the pain, all the while thinking that he would make love to her gently, the way he usually did.
Dena could feel his hot breath on her stomach as he traced the muscles of her abdomen with his tongue. Oh, she moaned inwardly, that feels so good. That's my lover, my husband. She began to relax, her muscles giving in to the tingle and arousal of Eric's tongue on her body. As he made his way to her inner thighs, she could feel herself begin to tighten in anticipation of him kissing her inwardly.
The mere thought of his tongue darting in and out of her pussy made her ecstatic. The thought of him pleasing her like that was joyful. She could feel herself getting all wet, about to come. Eric could see that she was aroused and he became infuriated.
"I see! You like getting roughed up, don't you whore? It's turning you on! You make me sick, I can't believe I married such a damned slut. I should just sell you to some fucking Mexican slave trader, you worthless bitch!"
Dena remained perfectly still and remembered how terrified she had been when her patient attacked her. She had to admit to herself that what Bill had done to her was nothing compared to what her loving husband was doing right then.
She could feel Eric's hands positioning his cock inside her cunt, about to enter her. All she could do was hope that he would be gentle. She wasn't about to struggle or fight him. He had already hurt her and she was done playing. Maybe he will just fuck me and it will be over, was what Dena was hoping, but he wasn't going to stop with a single entrance into her.
He forced his thick cock into her unmercifully. Normally, he would work it in slowly until it was all lubed with their shared secretions. But now he seemed intent on making her see how violent provoked sex could feel. He was loving every second as he took his wife and watching her writhe in pain made it even better for him.
Dena waited and tried not to move as he manhandled her little body. So many times she had given herself to him and now he was fucking her like an anonymous whore. It hurt, she was humiliated, and she wanted it to stop. When she thought it couldn't get any worse, he removed the restraints, flipped her over onto her stomach and dry-forced his cock into her anus. Dena could feel the skin tearing as he pushed his cock inside her.
* * *
"Hey, Babe, wake up."
Eric was kneeling beside the bed washing the tears and sweat from Dena's face with a cool cloth.
"Get away from me you bastard!" She screamed.
As she moved she was aware of an intense pain in her belly and her rectum. She reached down and touched herself and when she saw blood all over her fingers she became outraged.