Deceit

Under torture, prolonged unbearable pain, human beings succumb. I'd known that intellectually, but to experience it was something else. It was crushing how each and every defense, every delusion that I'd be different, that I could take it and would stay strong, simply crumbled under duress. A bit-by-bit erosion of my psyche.

Of course the ultimate threat was the worst. Bull averred that, though he wasn't into it, if I tried anything, anything at all, he'd fuck my ass royally just so he could see me squirm and hear me squeal. All the times he'd stuck the handle of the bat between my butt cheeks drove that point home. And amused the hell of out him.

I did all the cooking, cleaning, and everything else the monster could dream up. Watching from close quarters whenever he screwed Liz was a given, as was licking up all his cum once he'd finished.

He'd had Liz call my office Monday morning to explain that I was very ill and wouldn't be in all week, and had her cancel her patients, so she only went out to shop. And to the bank to drain our account. Our $5,000 emergency fund looked paltry when in 100s, but Bull seemed pleased. He'd made it clear that my "vacation" was only temporary, as next week he'd send me back to work so I could bring my paychecks back to him.

His dominance was total and he had increasing cowed Liz, too. At first she'd been perpetually aroused, blissfully reveling in her new life and lover. She was always ready, always eager, and it's a good thing that orgasms aren't rationed, as she'd have used up her yearly quota by Monday night.

When things changed.

After the Celtics lost a close one to the Lakers, Bull was in a foul mood. And bored. God knows where he got the idea, but when I saw Liz coming into the living room with her urethral sounds, my overwhelming feeling of dread made me want to run. But where?

After I'd lain back on the couch as ordered, Bull said, "Okay Liz. Let's have some fun. Take the cage off the cuck, and get that itty bitty little penis hard." Then to me, "Cucky, when was the last time you came?" I was too appalled to answer. "Dude, you better answer me, or I'll ram this bat up your ass. Now, when was the last time you came?"

It had been 7 days since my cock had started misfiring, but Liz had been able to get me off one last time. When Bull loomed over me, bat in hand, I said, "A week."

"Then you must have a lot of thin, worthless gruelly cum stored up in those puny balls. I want to see it dribble out."

Liz had been working on the cage as he spoke, and it did feel great to have it off after a week of confinement. My penis just lay there, of course, so when Bull told her to, Liz started playing with it. It began to swell a little, but didn't take off.

"C'mon Liz. You know how to make a cock get hard. Do your stuff, babe." As Liz did her level best to get my prick interested, Bull continued, "I've been telling some of my bros about you, Liz, and they can hardly wait for Friday, when they're all coming over. Cuck, you'll need to make a lot of food. Those dudes get super hungry after a gang bang, and... Shit, Liz! You're not trying!" Bull viciously cuffed her in the back of the head, and she sucked me harder as Bull went on, "Show me what you're going to do to the guys to get them up for rounds 3 and 4."

My sense of alarm both at how he'd hit Liz and was planning on inviting other men to come fuck her didn't help my libido in the least, but I did feel stirrings. After Bull reached down and slapped her ass, hard, her eyes caught mine and I could see her pleading with me, begging me to try, to help.

I closed my eyes to concentrate. Myriad images cycled through my mind, and I finally found the right one. The feel of Liz's lips on my dick perfectly matched the hottest recollection I had, of the time we were driving on a winding, two-lane road through the Rockies late at night. Devil that I am, I started massaging her inner thigh, then unzipped her, sneaked my hand into her pussy and got her off.

She'd told me to pull over, and it was the most amazing blow job she'd ever given me. The memory did the trick, and after I was hard Bull told Liz to sound me. With the biggest probe. She'd bought a set of 5, but she'd only graduated me to the second smallest before Bull arrived. Again Liz's eyes beseeched me to go along, and I did. No choice. It was damed painful, but not as bad as my sniveling, moaning, and writhing hopefully suggested.

When it was half in, Bull said, "Smile for the camera, folks," and took several pics with his phone. Then he seemed to get bored, and said, "Liz, that's enough. Make him soft, put him in his cage, and come suck my dick."

As Liz squeezed the head of my cock in the classic Masters and Johnson technique, I glanced at Bull to make sure he was intent on the SportsCenter analysis of why the Celtics sucked. Seeing he was distracted, I answered Liz's alarmed and rueful look with a slight reassuring nod.

This morning, Wednesday, started out just like the days before it. I made breakfast after I was uncuffed, cleaned the townhouse, and then watched from the armchair next to the couch as Bull screwed Liz. It was his favorite spot, allowing all kinds of positions and giving me good views, which seemed important. He'd always leave the bat leaning against the couch right next to him, and look at me menacingly as he placed it. He also liked the couch because, after he'd finished, he could snap on the TV and watch sports as I cleaned up Liz's pussy.

This morning, Liz, who with me had always needed substantial foreplay to come from coitus, continued in her new mode, and I watched her put one foot on either side of his hips, squat down, and guide that huge dick into her. And start fucking herself with it.

She must have been angling herself so that her clit rubbed on the shaft of that monster, as I could tell by her sounds that she was quickly becoming aroused. My view was from the side and just behind, and I noted how her cheeks were first to redden, then watched the crimson ebb south to her neck, then the mounds of her breasts.

As she kept impaling herself, her ass and thighs also colored, and after her first orgasm -- she froze, trembling uncontrollably, but Bull grabbed her hips and started ramming his cock into her -- even her arms, shoulders, and back flushed pink.

Then Bull, who always seemed as if he was in a contest to see who could hold out the longest, invariably fucking Liz forever before he came himself, flipped her over and went doggie.

"Cuck, get over here, on the floor, close, so you have a better view." I instantly obeyed. My daily beatings were bad enough and I didn't need any more. My overwhelming feeling of dread spiked, however, when, to keep himself interested, Bull pushed the needle. He'd gotten bored and done new stuff before, and I didn't know how much further he could go before it had serious, permanent consequences for me. And Liz. Like a gang bang on Friday.

As the doggie went on and on, Bull thrusting into Liz over and over, making her butt cheeks bounce and jiggle, I noted the change. After she'd come several more times, Liz began faking it. Maybe she was just orgasmed out, exhausted, idk, but at any rate I could tell she was acting.

Unfortunately, after a while so could Bull. And he didn't like it. The vicious slap on her ass resounded throughout the room, as did her gasp.

"What the fuck, bitch! You're faking it! Damn you! Are you telling me that I can't make you come?"

I heard trepidation, real fear in Liz's voice for the first time. "Bull, sweetie, it's not that. You've made me come so many times already, and it's wonderful. You're the best ever, for sure, but I'm just really, really tired, exhausted, and need a rest."

"Fuck that! I'll make you come for real. No more faking." With that he pulled out, lined up that monster cock, drove it into her ass, and began pumping her furiously.

Liz sure wasn't faking anymore. Her cry as he violated her expressed extreme pain, and anguish and agony continued to color her sounds as he kept screwing her. Knowing she had to get off to get him to stop, she started frigging her clit madly. Her very real, very forced orgasms and the distress in her gasps and squeals seemed to be what Bull the Sadist wanted, what turned him on, and he came surprisingly quickly.

Once he pulled out and shoved her aside, he ordered me to clean her up as he sauntered off to the bathroom. Liz was lying in heap, face down on the couch, panting and sobbing. I surreptitiously grabbed a couple tissues and soaked up the mess oozing out of her still-gaping anus. Semen. And blood.

When Liz's sobs morphed into soft desolate weeping, something in my heart moved and my anger at her for bringing all this down on us eased. As I continued using tissues to clean her up, I stroked her back with my free hand and whispered, "Liz, I'm so sorry." Her hand, briefly clasping mine on her back, was her answer, and I was about to say more when I heard Bull's heavy strides.

"What the fuck, cuck! When I tell you to clean Liz up, I mean with your tongue. Now get to it or I'll get really mad."

I did.

Liz's fingers on my head stroking my cheeks brought me back to the present. To my dark room in the dead of Wednesday night. She had quit crying, and was giving me little kisses all over my face. "Oh God, Kurt, I'm so terribly sorry for all this. I had no idea where it would lead."

"I... I just don't understand. Why?"

"I was just so hurt by what you'd done, being so selfish and controlling sexually, and especially having an affair. That truly killed me."

"I'm so, so, sorry..."

"Shh. Keep it down. Bull's asleep, and we can't wake him. Anyway, I started looking around on the internet, and found this one femdom site, 'How to Manage Your Man.' It said to basically act like a coquette, get you caged, then dole rewards as you changed your behavior. It was totally B.F. Skinner's Operant Conditioning, which I knew worked, so tried it."

"I did have the sense that I was a frog in warm water, not noticing as the heat was gradually turned up. But you were so amazingly loving and sexy, everything seemed worth it."

It was nice to hear Liz giggle. It had been a long time. "It was so fun. And exciting. The sounding was part of getting you to accept whatever I wanted, whatever I introduced into our love life. I wasn't sure about it at first, but found that I liked how I could fuck your cock like you fuck my pussy."

That seemed so long ago, eons, like a fantasy from another life. "At first it hurt, but in kind of a nice way, and the ejaculations after my urethra was so inflamed were incredible. I wish we could go back..."

Liz's voice got serious. "The next step the site suggested was to have a get-even affair. I thought about that a lot, and started exploring sites that people use to hook up. Once I'd seen Bull's, I couldn't get it out of my mind. I tried to ignore it, but something in me was so pissed at you that I finally just said the hell with it and got in touch."

"I was a little surprised that you didn't go for a big black cock. Isn't that every white girl's fantasy?"

"Well, I was planning on that for the next one." She chuckled, then shook her head. "I did want to try a monster cock, but I sure didn't want the monster that came with it."

Liz paused. I could tell there was more, but she was reluctant. "What?" I asked.

"I'm so, so sorry, Kurt. I was just so angry."

"C'mon, what is it?"

"Once the affair started, Bull took charge. I think he planned to move in and take over all along. He kept telling me to do things that would humiliate you, so you'd be easy to dominate." She paused again. "I shouldn't have, but I was really mad and he insisted. You know how forceful he is. Anyway, he gave me these pills to give you. And I did."

"What pills? I don't remember taking any..."

"He told me they were Cyproterone, and that they'd feminize you and make it so you couldn't get an erection. I ground them up and put them in your coffee or orange juice. I'm so sorry..."

"Shit! That was nasty..."

"And then, like he told me to, I made fun of you, made like it was awful that you were impotent, such a disappointment to me. God, Kurt, I'm so sorry. I quit giving them to you 3 days ago." 


Well. I struggled to suppress my anger at Liz -- it wasn't useful -- and directed it towards Bull. My mind spun ahead, trying to imagine how to right our ship. Her voice focused my thoughts.

"We've got to find some way to fight back..."

I urgently interrupted, whispering, as softly as I could, "Slap me, Liz! Hard! Now!"

Just as she saw my eyes dart to the door, she heard it, too, and she hit me. As I recoiled from the blow, Liz hissed, "Goddamn you, Kurt! Don't ever touch me again! I'm going to...


The door crashing back against the wall ended Liz's sentence.

"What the fuck is going on!" Bull's enraged voice resounded off the walls and filled me with terror.

Liz did her best. "I was just checking on the cuck, making sure that I'd left him a piss cup. Like you told me to, Bull."

There was not a trace of irony in Bull's shouted, "Bullshit!" Liz had leapt to her feet but Bull's uppercut to her stomach put her back down, gasping and wheezing for breath. The metal bat clanged on the floor as he dropped it so both his hands would be free. For me.

I had one wrist cuffed to the headboard, but did my best to curl into a ball and protect my vitals. My head snapped back and I gasped as he slammed his fist into my cheek. He rolled me on my back and sat on me. After just the first fist thumped into my guts way too hard I knew I was in terrible trouble. Bull was so infuriated that he'd lost control -- he'd hit me in the face, which would leave a mark -- and was about to do irreparable damage.

Needing it to stop, absolutely needing it to stop, I played my hole card. My only card.

Bull jumped off me like he'd just discovered I had ebola, exclaiming, "Shit! You asshole! Liz, this scum is pissing himself! God, what a loser!" I winced and tried to get my free arm up in time, but was way too late. Fortunately, Bull stopped the bat an inch before it crushed my skull.

Bull was still grumbling when he picked Liz up like she was toy, put her under his arm and tromped off. Though I knew I was in for a damp, uncomfortable night, I felt the involuntary smile creep onto my lips. The tide had turned.

**

Thursday AM, The Next Day

"No! Oh God, please don't hit me again!" I cowered back as far as possible into the armchair, whimpering, sniveling and begging. Bull had hit me just once, and I couldn't have him beat me seriously enough to incapacitate me. Not today.

He grabbed my hair, pulled my head up, slapped me so hard I saw stars and tasted blood, shook his head and sneered. "God! You are one pathetic asshole." He laughed when I crumpled into the chair at just the threat when he just drew back his fist, then laughed again and told me to be sure to keep my eyes open so I'd enjoy the show.

It was nothing new, just him taking Liz on the couch. Fellatio, her mounting him, then doggie. The usual morning routine. I was heartened that it wasn't worse. Bull's innovations the last couple days had been scary, raping Liz's ass so viciously that she'd bled, losing control during his usual measured beat downs of me, and actually hitting me in the face several times. I was glad to have the bruises, but alarmed by his promise earlier this morning that he was going to ream my ass later. Because I pissed on him.

As I watched Liz trying to get as much of that massive cock in her mouth as possible, to distract myself I thought back to earlier this morning.

Though cuffed to the headboard, I had been able to strip the sheet and mattress pad off the bed, and did manage to sleep. Some. I awoke when Bull sent Liz in to release me, but I knew he was lurking just outside the door when she put her finger to her lips, then said loudly, "God, Kurt. Pissing the bed! You're disgusting! Right after you make breakfast you'd better clean this up and wash the sheets. Now, get a move on. Bull's hungry." I checked that the doorway was empty, then met her eyes and nodded.

I'd just finished putting the sheets in the washer when Bull sauntered into the laundry room.

"Jesus, cuck. Pissing yourself. Well, at least you didn't poop." As he laughed he feinted a punch and laughed harder when I whimpered and cowered, holding my forearms over my midsection in defense. "Get on out to the living room. It's time for you to watch a real man fuck your wife." The bat's tap on my cock cage caught a little of one testicle, and I gasped at the pain.

After I'd taken my usual seat next to the couch, he hit me once and sent me into my usual fit of sniveling, begging, and whimpering. Bull sat back on the couch and Liz, who'd stripped while he was abusing me, started fellating him.

I kept watching -- it was what he wanted -- being certain to keep the terrified, groveling look on my face. As usual the bat was leaning on the couch, close to his right hand so he could whack me if I closed my eyes. He grabbed it, waved it at me, then replaced it as I cowered in my chair. Tired of having his penis licked and sucked, he told Liz to mount up. She did.

Though I'd seen it all before, I was again amazed at how her vagina could expand and take the whole thing. The way his prick pulled her labia in and out, dragging the hood of her clit over its shaft and head, worked its magic as always, and Liz came, quickly and massively, over and over. I was puzzled. I knew she was now leery of him, even terrified, but perhaps the danger enhanced her arousal, and her body took over and just obeyed his cock's commands.

When Bull flipped her onto her knees on the couch, spread his legs wide, hunched over her and started to ream her from behind, I hoped that he wouldn't feel it necessary to screw her ass again. I bided my time.

After a couple more orgasms I could tell that Liz was spent, and saw how her body began reacting involuntarily, writhing and squirming as if trying to escape the massive, unrelenting battering ram bludgeoning her.

At long last I heard what I was waiting for. Bull started snorting -- how fucking appropriate -- and I knew he was about to come. I was prepared, and, when he looked at me to check, I recoiled defensively and blubbered a sniveling, "Please don't..." before he looked away.

Once I heard his first yelled, "Yaahhhgghh!" I knew he was coming.

And that, as always, his eyes were closed. I also knew that, finally, all my cowering, blubbering and sniveling had paid off. I posed no threat.

I was on my feet instantly, reaching out. Baseball had been my passion through my 18th summer, and though I was a switch hitter, I had more power right-handed. I kept my eyes on the target, made an uppercut swing, snapped my wrists and made solid contact. It was the first homer I'd ever hit with two balls.

**

7 Months Later

"Thank you, sir. If you want anything else, anything at all, just raise a finger."

As the waiter walked away, pocketing the ten dollar bill, his bare feet sank deep into the snow-white sand. I smiled. This resort was one of the best in the Bahamas, and I knew that I'd just insured prime beach service for our entire week-long vacation.

Yesterday afternoon when we checked in, I'd asked the concierge what was appropriate for tipping. Looking out for his staff, suffering through the doldrums of off-season November, he'd optimistically suggested 25%. Even his old, jaded eyes grew wider when I nonchalantly slipped him the Ben Franklin, guaranteeing that whatever else I asked for would happen forthwith.

The ten-spot I'd just bestowed on the waiter was three times the suggested rate, and I'd similarly overtipped in cash at dinner last night. The portrait of President Grant I'd given to the maître d' insured that we'd have the best tables for the duration, and the 40% added to the dinner tab guaranteed that service would be excellent.