Leah Pt. 01: Run

Sunlight burned hot through the large windows when she walked into her house. It was still early, but he had told her he would be home late. She locked the deadbolt on the door then made her way into her kitchen, setting her purse down on the table in its normal place. The dishes were still stacked in the sink from the morning, and there they would stay, at least for the next thirty minutes or so.

The hallway to their bedroom was dark, the walls covered in photos of them. Lying smiles reflected back towards her. She ignored them, just as he often ignored her. The door to the bedroom was open, and she shut it behind her.

Her need was already soaking the slacks she had worn to work. She kicked her shoes into the closet then quickly pulled off her pants and underwear, leaving on her white button-up blouse. Her vibrator, simple and pink, was in the nightstand where it always was, waiting to sate her for another day. She laid down on the bed and pressed the silicone into the folds between her legs, listening to the buzz as she ran it over her clit.

Her mind wandered to where it always did, away from this life and all that was coming with it. It went to the dark place, the place she told herself she should never be. But she couldn't control it. It was the only place she ever wanted to be. The faceless men caressed her, their fingers pressing into her, into places they should never have been.

She sat up, brushing the blonde hair away from her face as her frustration grew. The vibration wasn't enough. It never was. It wasn't what she needed, what she craved. She got up and walked to her closet, pulling out the shoebox for shoes she had thrown away several years before. She took it back to the bed with her, tossing the lid to the floor as she laid back down.

What was wrong with her? The thought always crossed her mind as she pulled out the purple butt plug. This wasn't the part of her she was supposed to want to be used. Out in the world, at her work, in her car, she thought about it. It was no longer a want. It was a need; one that haunted her wherever she went until she caved.

She reached back into the box, shuffling around the other items until her hand wrapped around the bottle of lube. She poured it over the plug, uncaring of the mess, just needing to feel it inside her. Her hand ran over the bedspread until it found the vibrator. She rolled onto her side, pushing the vibrator between her thighs until it hummed against her clit. She shifted her body, bending her knees and shoving her backside out, then pressed the tip of the plug against herself.

Her eyes closed, her mind racing back to the dark place, imagining it was one of the faceless men pushing it inside her. Maybe the man would tell her she couldn't take it out. He would make her wear it all the time so he could use her whenever he wanted. She would squirm at the discomfort as he roughly shoved it in place, thinking about how it would feel to wear it somewhere other than the privacy of her home.

But her home was where she was, and she slowly pushed the purple plug inside herself. She wanted to relish the feeling of it opening her, the slight burn as it stretched her farther. The burn increased, letting her know the widest part was making its way in. Then her body sucked it inside, closing around the narrow base.

Her left hand pressed the vibrator harder to her clit, her right hand playing with the base of the plug. She twisted it, turned it, pushed against it, pulled it out slightly then shoved it back in. The faceless men in her mind held her down. Teasing her, tormenting her, informing her the plug was nowhere near large enough to stretch her as they wanted her stretched.

Her hand flew back into the box, tearing around inside until it wrapped around the wide shaft of a dildo. Her hands were shaking as she poured lube over it, wondering if it was too big. It was, she knew, but she didn't care. She pulled out the plug, tossing it aside before pressing the tip of the dildo to her ill prepared back entrance.

She spread her legs slightly, repositioning her vibrator and turning it up. Her legs closed back down against the vibration, then her right hand began to push. She imagined one of the faceless men behind her, telling her to relax as she clenched down. But he wouldn't care, she was his to use as he pleased, and he would force himself inside.

She pressed harder, the fire starting as the tip stretched her open. She could feel every vein, every ripple of the realistically sculpted toy as it slowly made its way in. The discomfort increased as it forced its way through her muscles. She would never be able to explain why it was one of her favorite sensations. She continued pushing it in, groaning when her muscles finally gave way, and it slid through to its destination.

It was far too big but the discomfort was never enough to overtake her need. She pulled it out then pushed it back against her entrance, wanting to feel her favorite part once again. She went slow, the break through only slightly easier. The minute it slipped past her muscles and easily slid the rest of the way in she pulled it back out.

She sometimes wondered how badly she could hurt herself, but in the moment she didn't care. The third time she pushed it in she left it there. The faceless man in her head began to thrust so her hand followed suit. The dildo was far too thick to slide effortlessly, and unlike the man in her head, she wasn't strong enough to violate herself easily with it.

She wanted the feel of being penetrated. The feel of being taken. The feel of the stroke of someone inside her who couldn't care less how it felt to her. She pulled out the dildo, unable to use it how she wanted, and threw it to the side. Back into the box her hand went, pulling out a slightly smaller blue dildo. Her hand grasped at the lube bottle, her trembling fingers already slick with the clear gel. She popped it open and poured it over the blue silicone. Without hesitation, she slid the toy inside herself as far as she could.

Her left hand went back to the vibrator, shoving it against her clit as her right hand guided a merciless ravishment. The faceless man in her mind pounded into her, his length shoving inside her then sliding back out before shoving inside her again. She writhed and groaned, the orgasm building. She twisted the base of the vibrator with her finger, slowing it down, not ready to be done. But her control was fading, her body unsure which felt better, the way the dildo felt forcing its way in or the way it felt sliding back out.

"Leah!" His booming voice brought her heart and hands to an immediate stop. "Not this again!"

Yes, this again. This always. Again and always.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

She didn't know. She rolled off the bed, shaking as she stood. Her cheeks burned as she stared down at the lube covered toys scattered over their white bedspread. She tried to wipe her lube covered hands on her shirt, then on her legs, but it was stuck to her like blood after a murder.

"I married a God fearing woman, not some slut who..." he paused, his face reddening as he stared down at the bed. "Who..." His head began shaking back and forth, his brown eyes hunting the room for anywhere else to look. "I can't even say it!"

She watched as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, already knowing who he would be calling. Her tears began to fall, her humiliation now absolute as he began to speak.

"She was doing it again... You know what... I can't even look at her right now... Okay... Okay... Thanks."

She wanted to pack a bag. Run away even though she had nowhere to go. She used to love him. But he used to be different. And why would she leave? He was right. He was always right. There was something wrong with her. Women weren't supposed to want what she wanted.

"Adam said you can stay with him tonight if you want. You're not staying here. I don't care where you go."

"I'll stay with Adam." She had been naturally submissive her entire life but had never hated herself more for it.

"Get cleaned up so you're not as much of an embarrassment to yourself. And throw all this shit away before you go," he said, his hand gesturing over the bed.

*******************

Her eyes stared into the red brick outside her windshield. The house stood solid and strong, but her tears blurred the familiar paint. When the front door opened, her hands wiped the drops rolling down her cheeks. The smell of lube lingered on her skin, refusing to allow her to forget what she had done.

"Are you going to sit out here all night?" Adam's voice drifted through her window.

She peered through the glass, his smile diminishing all the similarities he shared with her husband. She turned off the ignition and stepped out, wondering if he was inhaling the scent of her guilt.

He reached into the trunk, grabbing her bag and carrying it towards the door. She followed behind him, her eyes lingering over his greying hair. Even at eight years older than his brother, the scattered white strands couldn't erase the charm her husband never inherited. Adam had never been married, but there was always a beautiful woman, one far more beautiful than she was, on his arm.

"Abel's pretty mad," he said, setting her bag down on the bed.

She avoided his gaze, instead letting her eyes wander around the room as if it was the first time she had been inside it. But she knew every small crack in the ceiling and which of the floorboards creaked under her weight in the middle of the night. "He has a right to be."

"Why?"

The question surprised her, immediately bringing her eyes to his. "Because of what I did." She searched the amber, trying to decide if this was a new type of humiliation her husband was determined to subject her to.

"And he should be mad about that because?"

The tears she had managed to get under control now refused to oblige. For all the times she had run to her brother-in-law's house, he had never questioned her. He had been her safe place. He had allowed her to hide, to disappear into the shadows until her husband decided she could come out. "Because obviously there's something wrong with me."

"Why do you think there's something wrong with you?"

Maybe he was tired of her tears. Maybe he now understood how sick she truly was; ruled by impulses she refused to control, no better than an animal.

"Leah, you shouldn't be ashamed of the things you want. And your husband shouldn't be so closed minded he refuses to acknowledge your needs."

She stared at him, trying to hear his words for what they were while fighting against thoughts of what she had expected them to be.

"He's my brother, and I love him because he's my brother, but I get so tired of hearing about this ridiculous problem. If you were my wife—" He stopped, his eyes moving to the ground as he bit into his lip. "I'm sorry. I'll let you settle in."

She stood frozen as he walked out, leaving the air heavier than it had been in her own bedroom. Her mind spun, arguing with her heart. She needed to hear what he had left unsaid. She needed to hear the admission that he was just as sick as her come from his lips. Then he could shove her down onto the bed, pull her hair back as he pushed inside her. She wondered how he would feel penetrating through her. But he wouldn't. Nobody ever would. Her need would never be satisfied. It was the true punishment for her imperfections.

No. She had to know. And it didn't matter anymore. What more could they do to her? In how many more ways could she be humiliated? She stormed down the stairs, her bravery dissolving when she found him rinsing a glass in the kitchen.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, turning towards her as he dried his hands.

Her mind screamed the words she couldn't bring herself to say aloud.

"Leah?"

"If I was your wife?" The words burst from her lips, no longer willing to be contained.

"I should never have said that—"

She shook her head, years of anger and frustration flooding through her. "Tell me!"

"I can't. It's not that simple—"

"Nothing in this life is simple. I deserve to know!"

His head turned, his eyes avoiding hers. "There are too many things about me you don't know. Abel doesn't know. Nobody in this part of my life knows—"

"You know my darkest secret. My greatest sin. I deserve to know something about you."

"Why do you do it?"

She paused. How could she explain the unexplainable? It was just a part of who she was.

"I'm assuming because it feels good..."

She bit into her lip. She didn't know if she would describe the feeling as good. It wasn't the same type of good her vibrator against her clit caused. In truth, the parts that felt the best, the ones she repeated over and over, were the ones which caused a slight discomfort.

"What do you think about when you do it?"

The heat rose into her face, her mouth refusing to allow the thoughts to escape.

"Do you think about Abel fucking you in that way?"

"No!" The word shot from her mouth before she could stop it. She quickly pressed her lips together, horrified at her admission.

"Then who?"

Nobody. Anybody. Everybody. "It isn't about who's doing it."

"Then what's it about?"

The submission. The domination. The force. The discomfort.

"Tell me, Leah."

"They make me do it."

"Make you do it?" He raised his eyebrow. "Like rape?"

No. Yes. She wasn't sure. "They aren't violent." But they did hold her down. Or strap her down. They didn't give her a choice. But she didn't want a choice.

"I think I get it." He crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. "How long have we known each other?"

"Over ten years."

"And for all those years, Abel's called me to complain about this problem. And all I think about when he calls is how unfortunate it is you married such an ignorant man. You deserve to be satisfied."

"And if I was your wife?"

His hand rubbed over his chin, a defeated smile on his face. "Okay, you win."

She tensed as he moved towards her, her heart stopping until he walked past her. For as different from his brother as he was, his escape attempts were too familiar. She followed behind him, waiting to hear him scold her with each step.

He walked into his study, making his way to the bookcase. His fingers ran down the spine of a book she had never heard of. "Marquis de Sade" glinted in gold as he pulled the hardback from the shelf, the name of the novel itself hidden beneath his hand. The pages ran through his fingertips before falling open somewhere in the middle. He pulled out a white business card then closed the book and slid it back into its place.

He stared down at the card in his hand as he made his way to the leather couch. "Do you want to know my secrets?"

"Yes. Please."

He sank into the cushion in the middle, putting the card into his shirt pocket. "Take off your clothes, Leah."

"Excuse me?"

He patted his lap then folded his hands together. "Come bend over my lap, Leah, and I'll show you my secrets."

Her hands moved to her shirt, pulling it off over her head. Part of her warned her it was a trick. She glanced around the room, wondering if there was a camera as she pushed her pants to the floor. She waited to hear Abel's voice screaming from down the hallway as she unhooked her bra, but the air was silent as she stepped out of her underwear.

"If you were my wife..." he started as she walked towards him, "this is a position you would find yourself in often." He grabbed her hand, pulling her down over his lap.

Her cheek pressed into the leather, her hips resting against his thighs as her need stirred.

His hand squeezed lightly into her right cheek, then caressed it before moving to the other. "Relax, Leah."

She tried to release the tension in her muscles, her breath catching in her throat when his fingers grazed between her thighs.

"If you want me to stop, say 'Home.'"

The word repeated in her head, but it was nowhere near her lips. She squirmed when his fingers ran up between her cheeks, brushing over the entrance only she had ever used.

"I like you like this..."

She bit into her lip, unsure if his words were awaiting a reply. "What do you mean?"

His hand broke contact, sending her heart tumbling. When his skin touched against hers again her breath only had a moments reprieve before his fingers moved between her cheeks, no longer warm and calming but cool and wet. "That is my secret, Leah."

She whimpered when his finger pushed inside her, gently breaking through the entrance she thought would never be used.

"I like you here, laying over my lap, your body mine to explore."

His words sank into her skin, her body relaxing as his finger continued its descent. For the first time, her soul felt calm. Quiet. Accepting and anticipating in a way she had never known. When another finger pushed inside her she groaned, raising her hips as he opened her, a silent plea to be taken.

"Does it feel good?" he asked, his fingers sliding out before pushing back in.

Her breath caught, the words lost on her tongue.

"Answer my question, Leah."

"Yes." The word was lost as soon as it left her lips, overtaken by a moan when his fingers scissored inside her, stretching her farther.

"Good. It should."

When his fingers pulled out again she lifted her hips, wanting to cry out for them to return to her.

"You're too tight for me, but I can fix that, if that's what you want."

"Yes. Please. Please don't stop." She needed his hands back. She needed to feel them moving through her, opening her.

"Stay."

She rolled to the floor as he rose from the couch. His directive was a wasted breath. She remained where she landed, unwilling to move. Her empty body clenched and unclenched, the wetness of the lube her proof she wasn't dreaming.

When he came back into the room, she recognized the toy in his hand. He sat down, his hands once again patting his lap. She jumped up from the floor, uncaring if her eagerness was obvious as she positioned herself back over his lap.

"Relax."

She grunted when he pushed two fingers inside her. Her hips pushed up, unable to hide their enthusiasm. When they disappeared she held still, anxiously awaiting what she knew was coming.

"Relax."

The small tip pushed against her, easily sliding inside. Then came the familiar heat, rising into a slight burn. She moaned into the leather cushion, clenching down as he held the plug in place, preventing it from slipping the rest of the way inside her.

"No. Relax."

She took a deep breath, trying to force her muscles to concede. The burn felt different somehow. Her body knew it wasn't in control. Only he got to decide how fast or slow the plug would be placed, and how long she would endure each centimeter as it passed through her ring. All she could do was relax and accept what was done.

She closed her eyes, allowing her body to drown in its submission. The plug slipped inside her and was immediately pulled back out. She whimpered as it was pushed through her entrance again, this time more easily embedded within her.

"You'll wear it tonight and we'll see where we're at in the morning," he said as he gave the base a final twist.

***

She clenched down on the plug, squeezing against it, still amazed it was there. She rolled onto her back, pressing her hips down into the mattress. It pushed inside her, moving within her, bringing the ache back into her soul.

Her hand went to her clit, slowly teasing as she rubbed her hips against the bed. Her eyes closed, allowing her to get lost in the feel of the object inside her. It filled her, just enough and not enough.

She slid her hips down the mattress as her fingers played over herself, the heat beginning to swirl within her. She rolled onto her side, grasping at the base of the plug. He had told her to leave it in, and she had no desire to take it out. She twisted it, turned it, pulled it out slightly to feel the stretch then shoved it back inside herself. It was a need she could never explain and never suppress. But in the darkness she could let it possess her; give it the control until there was nothing left to take.