Milk of Human Hatred

Many thanks to HMAuthor and SevenSwans252 for all the hard work in editing and improving this story from a previous version.

*

"At last!" I shouted, after I sneaked a peek through the blinds.

I wanted to make sure the Gang of Four couldn't hear me for two reasons. One, if they did, maybe they'd turn around and come back. Two, they might high five each other if they heard my exasperation.

But Laurel, Felicity, Mimi and Bianca were already getting into their car in front of the house, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they had destroyed half of my Sunday.

"What is it with your friends?" I asked Ellen. "Whenever they come here and I'm around, they find ways to torment me."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I haven't complained before, but it happens almost every time," I said. "For instance, today they allegedly came to plan a bridal shower with you. You were all in the kitchen, so I tried to stay out of the way in the living room with my iPad. But each of them managed to get close to me multiple times and push me, nudge me, bump me, scratch me, step on my feet, slap my ass, give me a wedgie and worse."

"What do you mean worse?" asked Ellen.

"That sadistic Mimi. I can't figure her out. She looks like a little doll, but she's vicious. She attacked me twice. First she reached into my boxers and grabbed my balls and squeezed them. The second time was really weird. She tried to push a finger between my butt cheeks, and I moved away fast. I don't even want to think about where she was going with that one."

"Why didn't you put on your clothes and go out somewhere?"

"So I should just let them drive me from my own home? Sorry, I mean our home. You grew up with these girls, and I know you're closer to them than you are to me in some ways. So tell me what's eating them?"

"Do you really want to know?" asked Ellen. Her voice was suddenly quiet.

"Yes," I said.

"They hate you," she said.

"What? Why? What have I ever done to them?"

"It's not what you did to them. It's what you did to me?"

I waited for her to say something else, but she just looked at me quizzically. She knew I knew.

"That was eight years ago," I said.

There was only one bad thing I ever did to Ellen, but it was so bad that I try to suppress it. When I think about it, I get scared, and my brain feels like it will explode. Sometimes I dream about it, and it wakes me up, and I can't fall asleep the rest of the night. I spend the dark hours before dawn reminding myself how I dodged a bullet bigger than a cannonball.

I shouldn't be happily married to the most wonderful, most forgiving and most beautiful woman in the world, and I know it. The only time she ever got angry with me was after the umpteenth time I told her how perfect she was and how lucky and undeserving I was. She said if I didn't stop, she would leave me. She told me that she was as full of faults as I was, and it made her squirm when I talked about her like she was a goddess to worship. Then I told her a huge lie, which was that she had misunderstood me, and I promised her I would never bring it up again.

My friends never understood how close I came to jumping off a cliff. They'd remind me that we were all jerks in college when it came to women, and that often the women weren't much better. Then they'd tell me some of the things they did, and some of the things that were done to them.

But none of them is married to Ellen. When I met her my sophomore year, it was as if she stepped out of a cloud. We knew almost immediately we were soul mates, and we moved in together the next year and announced our engagement the summer before our senior year.

Then something came over me. She seethed with sexuality, and she drew me to her with a power I still can't understand. I became so obsessed with her that I turned into an animal. My veneer of humanity was stripped away and exposed the total selfishness and obsession with pleasure that took control of my mind. I had enough decency left to break off the engagement with Ellen before I began having sex with the woman, and I did it to her face. She was stunned and then devastated. She asked me again and again what was wrong with her. I kept trying to tell her that it wasn't her, but she wouldn't believe me.

The next day, I heard from each of the Gang of Four. The conversations all went the same way. They were concerned and wanted to know what happened, why did I dump Ellen, what had gone wrong? I gave them lame answers, because I didn't want to think about them or Ellen or anything else but my sex goddess and the next time we could rut together.

A few days later, I got a second call from each of them, and they let me have it. I was called every vile name in the book. Their imaginations knew no boundaries as they described to me the painful things they'd like to do to me. One of the milder ones was reaching into my sockets with their fingernails and tearing my eyeballs out.

Nothing they said affected me until they started calling my new girlfriend names. All of a sudden, I became chivalrous and stood up for her. I said I was sorry about Ellen -- which was a lie -- but it was nobody else's fault but mine, maybe the most honest thing I've ever said. How noble I was!

They told me that Ellen had decided she couldn't handle college and left for home, but that they were going after her. They wouldn't let her ruin her life, and they would get me for what I did to her if it was the last thing they ever did.

When I saw Ellen a few weeks after I broke up with her, she looked like a zombie, but I felt nothing except a slight twinge of relief that her friends had brought her back to campus. They had already taken everything of hers from my apartment. While they were moving her stuff, they called me a lot of things, and all of them were true. The only one that wasn't was that I was stupid.

Maybe I was for a while. It took me five weeks to realize that I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I awoke one morning shaking from a nightmare, but the more I woke up, the more I realized I was living the same nightmare. I wanted to scream. My brain felt like a ton of bricks had come crashing down on it. I guess something inside of my mind finally worked out what I had done. I had thrown away the only girl I ever loved and the only one I would ever be happy with. I had humiliated her and even driven her temporarily insane, to the point where she had thought there was something wrong with her. My life was over. I might as well kill myself right then.

But my survival instinct was strong enough that I fought the quicksand before I went under. When I tried to get to Ellen, the Gang of Four ran interference for her. I soaked up their vicious contempt like a sponge. I loved them in a way, because they had saved Ellen and they were defending her from a monster as ferociously as I would. But I had to find a way around them.

By stalking her, I managed to surprise Ellen alone in a clothing store. She was coming out of the dressing room, when I fell at her feet and begged for a second chance. Ellen is smart, but that day she was stupid. She forgave me, and in seconds we were on the floor together, holding each other and sobbing as customers and salespeople gathered around us. That's where Mimi found us, and when she saw what was going on, she became like a lioness protecting one of her cubs. She was slapping, punching, pulling and scratching at me to tear Ellen loose and pull her to her feet and out of the store so fast that Ellen seemed like she was flying away from me.

I wasn't allowed to see Ellen alone for two months. Each time one of the Gang of Four was with her when we met. It didn't matter because Ellen and I talked as if no one was there. I could tell that our words were making her friends physically ill, but I spoke from the heart instead of trying to play games. She believed me, but they didn't. All they saw was the monster who had trampled her under his feet just a few weeks earlier. They were angry that Ellen was keeping her promise to them to not do anything in haste, yet they could tell she was still in love with me.

Finally, Ellen put her foot down and said she would be seeing me alone. And then came the ring, the wedding and all the rest. I took the Gang of Four out to dinner by myself and told them how much I loved them for what they had done for Ellen, and I hoped that I would earn their trust by treating her the way she deserved. They were silent, which at least was an improvement over the imaginative curses and names they had shared with me up until the re-engagement was announced. I'm sure the reason they never brought up what I had done again was because they knew it would hurt Ellen. In fact, they loved her so much that I felt they might even sacrifice their lives to protect me, just because Ellen loved me. I guess that's why I had put up with their abuse up to now.

Ellen was responding to my complaint. "I know it was eight years ago," she said, "and I forgave you quickly. I've never regretted that for one moment. You make me the happiest woman on Earth. But I don't know if they will ever forgive you completely, and it's probably my fault. Because they don't think I made you suffer enough before I took you back.

"Jeff, I love them for feeling that way, and I love you. And I'm not going to give either of you up. And I'm sure, deep down, they don't want me to give you up. And you've even told me you love them for what they did for me."

"What about Tinker Bell invading my naked body?" I asked.

"If you want me to talk to Mimi, I will," she said. "There are a lot of guys who'd love her putting her hands all over their private parts. I'm not worried that she's trying to make a play for you."

"Never mind," I said. "I guess I'll just have to put up with their pawing and pinching to atone for my sins. But you can tell Tinker Bell that if she continues to explore inside my pajamas, I'm going to do some exploring on her."

"I will," said Ellen, and laughed.

A few days later, after dinner, I heard a big laugh coming from her desk in her home office.

"What's so funny?" I asked from the family room.

"I don't know if you'll think it's that funny," said Ellen. "You may not want to see what Mimi attached to her email."

My curiosity was aroused and I went and stood behind Ellen, who was sitting in front of her big monitor.

"I told her that you may be sticking your fingers where she won't like it if she continues doing that to you," said Ellen, "and this is her reply. See where she wrote, 'This is what I'd like to do to Jeff.' OK, are you ready for the video?

"Yes," I said, wondering what sick thing Mimi had come up with.

The video showed a naked man on his hands and knees. He was facing away from the camera, so you couldn't see his face, just his hairy ass. A small woman -- it wasn't Mimi, thank goodness -- came into the picture carrying a jar. She opened the jar and scooped out what looked like some grease and began smearing it into his butt crack. She also put the grease on his penis, which was drooping down between his legs, and his testicles.

Then she kneeled next to the man, facing his rear, and reached under him to grab his penis with her right hand and began pumping it up and down, sometimes letting it go to fondle his balls. With her left hand, she reached around and pushed a finger between his cheeks. His legs were spread, so you could see the finger going through the hair right into his ass.

She pushed some grease into him and began moving the finger in and out. Then she pushed in more grease and added a second finger, then more grease and a third. Finally, she slowly pushed her entire hand in past the wrist and moved it in and out at the same pace as her right hand was pumping the penis. Each time she did this, she pushed the hand in further.

All of a sudden, the man's heavy breathing turned to moans. He didn't move, and she wasn't doing anything different. She picked up the pace, and then there was a soft plopping sound as some stuff came out of the end of his penis and fell to the floor below it.

Now she grabbed his penis hard where it joined his balls and began pulling her hand down while squeezing his penis. As she did, come started to ooze out of it. It was like she was squeezing toothpaste out of a tube. The man was groaning in pain because of how hard she was squeezing his penis. After a few hard squeezes and pulls, there was a pile of white come under him. It was weird watching it because there was no sign that the man had an orgasm, except for the dripping semen. It seemed as if the woman had done all the work and just turned the handle on a semen faucet.

I heard Ellen's breathing, and it seemed heavy. "Are you getting aroused by this disgusting video," I said when it was over.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help it," she said. "Anyway, maybe this gives you a clue as to what Mimi's up to." She laughed. "I'm sure she'd love to make a video like that with you, and I know three others who'd love it see it."

"You forgot to count yourself," I said as I left the room.

It was two Sundays later that the Gang of Four was in the house working on the bridal shower again. I wore the boxers where the hole flapped open with my slightest move under a robe. I let my robe hang loose so the Gang of Four got an eyeful.

Mimi came out of the kitchen one time and saw me sprawled in a semi-exposed state across the couch. She was quick, and she almost reached in and grabbed something before quickly moving away as I reached out for the crotch of her tight shorts. She laughed as she spun away from my hand.

"I heard you really enjoyed that fisting and milking video," she said.

"Yeah," I said. "Is that the kind of thing you like to do with your boyfriends?"

"Don't knock it until you try it," she said with a laugh. "Look at this nice, clean fist. I even trim my nails short. Wouldn't you like me to put it up your ass and milk you?"

"What's all this milking business?" I asked. "It looks like plain masturbating to me."

"That's where you're wrong," she said. "Take another look at that video. The woman is pulling on the penis to get it ready, but it never really gets hard. It's the hand in the ass that makes it happen. The prostate is somewhere inside there, and it's like a button, sort of like a male clitoris. If you press it right, the come starts flowing. If the guy's in pain, he doesn't get to ejaculate. His stuff comes out, and he's done, but there's no satisfaction, except for the woman, who's in complete control. I think it's one of the most demeaning things you can do to a man."

"How many times have you done it?" I asked.

"Never," she said. "I respect my men. There's only one man I'd like to do it to. Bye."

She went back to the kitchen.

That was enough of that for me. From then on, when I knew the Gang of Four was going to be at our house for more than a few minutes, I was out of there. But they were so much a part of Ellen's life that I couldn't avoid them altogether. And whenever I happened to be with one or more of them out of earshot of others, I knew exactly what I was going to hear: some variation of the fisting-milking invitation.

Laurel, Felicity and Bianca were the crudest. They would compete to invent disgusting variations. One of them was how they would reach inside me for my lunch and then pull it out and feed it to me all over. Another was how they would scoop up my semen and frost a brownie with it that they would feed me. Felicity wanted to see how many of their hands would fit inside me, and Laurel wanted to see if she and Bianca could play handball with my testicles.

They tried to make it funny, but for some reason, Mimi always sounded serious enough to scare me. I shared the conversations with Ellen, and she told them she was starting to feel uncomfortable about their joking. They said if she gave the word, they'd stop, but she was always reluctant to pressure them unless it was for something that she knew was for their own good. She asked me what I thought.

"I think this is going to blow up sooner or later," I said. "Maybe that will be a good thing."

"Maybe not," she said. As usual, she was the smarter of us.

A few weeks later, after a girl's night out -- which in her case always consisted of a woman's movie with the Gang of Four and some dinner -- she came home and told me that I had made a good prediction. The nasty joking had come to a place where it couldn't get more bizarre.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"They all explained it to me at dinner, and I don't even know why I'm telling you, except for the strangest part of all. They told me that if you go through with this, they promise that they will respect you, they will never torment you again, they will put the past out of their minds and they will love you like a brother."

"What do you mean 'going through with this'?" I asked.

"Oh it's too strange. You know that video that they're obsessed with. To try to get you to do that, they've made it into a contest. It would be you against one of the girls. I'm not going to tell you more, because I've decided to butt out, so to speak. I told them that from now on, they would have to communicate with you directly, and I'm telling you the same thing. There must be better things for people to talk about."

"I'm curious," I said. "Are you going to be angry if I talk to them, just to find out."

"No," she said. "Just don't tell me anything until the five of you finally resolve this."

The next Tuesday, it was a girl's night out, minus Ellen and plus one man, me. We met at the Denny's near our home, and when I entered, I saw them all talking like conspirators at a table in the far corner, even though the dining room was almost empty.

They began as soon as I sat down and paused every time the waitress came within ten feet of us and didn't resume until she passed beyond that invisible line again.

"What did Ellen tell you?" said Laurel.

"Not much," I said, "except you've figured out a way for me to go along with your strange fantasy, and in return, you'll lay off of me. She wouldn't say anything more."

"Did she tell you that no matter what happens, if you agree to this, we will put the past out of our minds, we'll respect you, we won't torment you and we'll even go out of our way to be nice to you and treat you like a beloved brother?" said Felicity.

"A few of us didn't want to commit to that much, but we really want to do this, so in the end, everyone agreed. We are prepared to swear this in front of you, or write it down and sign in our blood, whatever you want."

"'No matter what happens' sounds like I would end up in the hospital," I said. "I'm here because I'm curious about exactly how much you'd be willing to hurt her husband. Then I'll probably tell you no."

"That's fair," said Bianca, "so I'll tell you. Please don't ask me any questions until I'm done, because we're so excited about this that we have to tell you, even if you end up shooting our idea down.

"It started with us wanting to make a video of you getting fisted and milked. Of course, one of us would be the one who does it, but the other three would get to watch and make the video. It would be for the five of us only, unless Ellen wanted a copy, and we swear it would never go on the Internet or be shown to anyone else.

"We tried to think of what we could offer you to be humiliated like this, but we were stumped until someone suggested maybe you might enjoy humiliating us as much as vice versa. Then it came to how we would handle that since none of us wants to be at the receiving end.

"Mimi is the one who came up with the idea of a contest, something like a wrestling match. We're all in good shape, and, I'll admit that since Mimi thought of the contest, we've all been taking some lessons from a former woman wrestler at the club. You're not going to get a chance to do that yourself, mainly because I got the impression from Ellen that we better do this right away or else forget it.