A Tiny Saga

All the time she was yelling "nae, nae, nae" and "stop". She was scared and began to urinate. Finally, he was spent. She tried pull his penis from her rectum. But her sphincter was clamped around that huge head. It took about 10 minutes of frantic manipulation before his cock was finally free and with it came his brown stained cum leaving a mess on the bed.

Sigrun sat up surveying the mess. She glared at Francis." I want you out of the house," she shouted, "I never want to see you again."

Francis grinned. "Look what I have. He held up the handycam he had been concealing. I got some great nude shots of you leading me to bed and the piece de resistance was your arse on full display including those beautiful hanging tits inviting me to sodomize you."

Francis continued, "No matter, I think we shall be seeing each other again. Don't worry you will get used to it; they always do."

As he went through the door, she threw a bedside lamp after him. She was now stone sober and in such a rage she couldn't even cry. She sat on the bed until she heard his car start up and back out to leave. She then made her way to the shower.

As she limped to the shower her torso ached from top to bottom. She stood in the shower for a long time. There was nothing erotic about this shower. Eventually she started scrubbing, trying to rid herself of the guilt and the shame, the filth and every vestige of Francis.

For the first time she began to think of Grant. He would never do this. She never gave him the sex he craved but never in their whole marriage had he lifted his finger against her. He might not have been exciting, but he was a wonderful supportive father to the children. He was truly dependable and a gentle soul. The reality was that she had always lived the life she had chosen for herself so why did she blame him so?" She finally began to cry as she left the shower.

Sigrun stood naked in front of the mirror, her beautiful body now pink from the hot water and scrubbing. Angry red patches covered her breasts, neck and thighs; the tracks of that depraved godless rapist.

She thought of the video; She had no idea of what to do about that. She thought if he tried anything she would go to the police and wear the consequences. Ah, the consequences. She deserved anything coming to her.

Then she stared down at her stomach. My god! I must get the morning after pill; now where will I get that?

**********

Epilogue

Sigrun finally got the courage to go to church. She managed to avoid her friends and sat with a group near the rear so Francis would not see her.

She needn't have bothered as he wasn't there; instead, there was a woman, a stranger playing organ today. Sigrun felt relieved and hoped that he had, perhaps, left.

Finally, the vicar stood at the lectern and announced, "You may all, no doubt, know of the sad passing of our organist. We are lucky to have Susan with us to day to fill in until we get a new permanent player. We will give thanks today for the joy of Francis' playing and his presence in our lives. The body has not yet been released from the autopsy. When it has you will be advised of the funeral date.

What has happened? Sigrun was perplexed. Why the autopsy?

As she left the church after the service a couple of her old friends caught up with her, Angela and Jean. "You look a little ashen Sigrun, hadn't you heard?"

Sigrun shook her head and looked down.

"He had been up at Hazel's place. Apparently, he gives her piano Lessons."

They looked at each other smirking. There were alarm bells ringing in Sigrun's head; what did they know?

"Hazel's husband has left her now. She is in a real mess. He is a friend of you husbands, isn't he?"

"Yes, they are. They are in the car club together. They go right back to school days. Grant hasn't contacted me as he has been away on business so he must not know. He is due back next weekend so I will give him a ring."

Angela stared at her knowingly, "You were sweet on Francis, a little, weren't you? We used to see you on your tete-a-tetes on Saturdays at the red flame café. I said to Jean that you two spend too much time staring at each other's eyes. We thought he must have hooked you too."

Sigrun looked down her face flashing, wanting to run.

"You know his wife left him because of his philandering."

"I thought she died."

"Is that what he told you? Anyway, I think you dodged a bullet there my girl."

"How did he die anyway?"

"You don't know? It's been all over the news. He went through the barrier in the gorge below your place. It was at that really twisted part where the road is so steep. They have been saying for years that road needs work. They will hurry up and do something son now that has happened, I bet. The car dropped fifty metres so there was very little left. Apparently, he was drinking at Hazel's place, and he is well known for driving like a maniac so there you are. "

Jean added, "The car caught fire and was burnt out. Nobody lives in that area, and they did not find the car for a couple of days. People say they smelt the smoke, but nobody knew what it was, and nobody called the fire brigade."

Sigrun rushed home and she found herself showering once again. That shame just did not seem to wash off. She thought of the handycam. Hoping to God that it was destroyed in the fire. She thought of herself as Freyja. Freyja would have been in control of this situation; with Francis, Sigrun clearly was not.

She could not be and would never be a Freyja. She was Sigrun, wife of Grant. That was her fate nothing more and nothing less.

The following Saturday morning Grant arrived home. Sigrun rushed out to meet him. He got out of his car in front of the shed. He picked his suitcase from the boot they began to chat in a way that they had not for months.

She reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek. He returned the greeting with a warm smile.

"Thanks for ringing me and letting me know about Hazel and Bruce. I knew that there was something not quite right about that organist chap the night you brought him into dinner. I wasn't too happy about the piano lessons you know. He didn't do Hazel much good."

Grant put his suitcase down and was staring at the garden. Sigrun was watching him with new eyes. There was something new and different about him. He seemed to be more confident in his bearing somehow. And the way he was speaking he seemed relaxed as though a great weight had been taken off his shoulders.

"Darling."

Grant spun around. "My, that's new, what have you done?"

Sigrun blanched and stuttered, "No I have been thinking these past three weeks. I had trouble coping after Ragnheidur's death and I have come to realise I have been selfish these last years. I want to change and treat you better. I have even thought I might be good to have another baby."

"Whoa, whoa not so fast, what brought this on?"

"Oh everything. I have had it with the church. Some of the things Ragnheidur and I talked about before she died were unrealistic. You were always on about us going to marriage counselling and you were right, and I was wrong. I think, though, that I should see someone on my own. It's my head that has been so screwed and not yours."

"I will be frank with you Sigrun, you have put me through hell, but you know I love my family and I have always been committed to our marriage. I am happy to give it a go, I am open minded, but I want a new relationship with you. Maybe a baby will help with that." Sigrun broke into a broad grin; in fact, it stayed plastered on her face for the rest of the day.

"Just one more thing. This is only a beginning and what we have been through can't be cured by a few kind words. I need to know that you are committed so you are going to have to earn my confidence. I am committed as always but if we slip back to how it was I can't guarantee anything. Let's see how we can weather future storms. That will be the test."

Grant continued, "I do realise that I have to try and make and effort as well, make some sacrifice. We should be doing more together. Some shared project perhaps."

He picked up the case again and as they were approaching the front door Sigrun pointed at a bluish oil stain on the old carport concrete slab.

"That just appeared there, how can we get it off?"

"That's from a vehicle. Who has parked there?"

Suddenly Sigrun realised that's where Francis had parked his old Toyota. She reddened, turning away, "Oh it must have been someone delivering something." She then quickly slipped inside the front door.

Grant stayed. He knelt examining the stain. It was hydraulic oil. He chuckled and smiled, knowing where it came from. "Now I wonder who would cut that dear chap's brake line."

*********