Price of Abuse

This is kind of usual for me I guess, but you might be surprised. Living with someone that has been abused is difficult, but there is a bright side that can be reached, eventually. This is one type of outcome, not necessarily the only or best, just a possible. Enjoy it.

As a disclaimer, these people are made up. They aren't someone you know and any resemblance to people living or dead is more a statement about our culture than this work. All characters here are over eighteen even though they are made up.

Please vote and comment so I can get better as a writer. Thanks!

"Not right now, I'm not in the mood," came the reply I hated. Mother of God, it was getting bad.

"Come on baby," I cajoled, "what is the problem? Are you getting it from that dude up the block, Marco or whatever his name is?"

"Marcio, and no," she replied and rolled over. "I'm going to sleep."

Fuck. I mean what the fucking fuck. When we were dating it was all, 'after we get married'. Then we get married and everything is good for like a year. Then we are back to this shit. Me with thrice damn blue balls and her, oh so sexy body, laying next to me in our bed. I grab my pillow and move to the couch.

I lay down and try to sleep, but I can't. I have a raging erection that just won't relax. I decide to walk it off because Vicky hates it when I relieve myself. I remember last week.

"Why are you masturbating?" she asked me totally angry. "I'm right here."

"And you won't touch me," I replied, angry as hell but determined not to yell. "I want you, I want you all the damn time. But it has been two years, baby. I need you. But if you can't do it, or won't do it, what am I supposed to do?"

"You're supposed to understand and wait for me to feel better!" she yelled. Then she stormed into the bedroom and closed the door, sticking the chair under the doorknob.

I don't know what the fuck to do. And it doesn't help that the super won't fix the damn AC. I have a fan running in the window in the back and the front window. But the airflow is not enough. So, I lay here, erect as hell, hot as shit, and angry as a mother f... well you get the idea.

I grab my pipe and move to the side window and smoke a couple tokes, hoping it will relax me enough to let me sleep. I check the sky, the moon is low, almost the dark of the moon. Then my eyes wander back to the neighborhood. We have a new neighbor. I saw the moving truck yesterday. No sign of the neighbor. Maybe it was a cool dude and we could hang out. Most of my friends don't come around any more. They say it is the tension between Vicky and I. Maybe it is, but... I sigh.

Then I see there are no shades yet on the side windows of the house next door. I catch a glimpse of the new neighbor. Whoa, totally hot chick. Long hair, big boobs, at least in silhouette, thin waist and the rest was hidden by the damn wall. I chuckled to myself. Then she was getting undressed. I noticed her windows were closed Her AC was working.

Maybe it was the lighting, larger shadow or whatever, but the frontal view of her breasts before she put on the tee shirt was spectacular, even though they weren't as big as I thought. They were round and firm and very perky.

I finished the bowl and moved back to the couch. No way my erection was going to relax after that. So, I pulled out some lube and stroked one out into the tissues. Then lay down. I went to sleep pretty quickly after that.

The next day was just like usual. Vicky got up, kissed me good morning and spent most of the day, touching me, running her nails over my shirt, pressing against me, nibbling my ear. It was a normal day, you know, seven or eight raging erections and no relief in sight. I finished doing my chores, some laundry and the yard work. Then I watered as the sun was going down and stepped through the sprinkler to get a little heat relief. At least the landlord sent some guy over to replace the pump on the AC. So tonight, I'd get cool as I sat in the house.

In the late afternoon when Vicky came by with our new neighbor. "Hey Chad, this is our new neighbor, Marge. Marge this is my husband, Chad."

Now I got a good look, though, seven years of dating and marriage later, I was smart enough to avoid staring or even overlong looking. That said, she was hot, and I mean hot. Just about two inches taller than Vicky, she had long, dark red hair, full lips, brilliant green eyes and a body that would not quit. I stuck out my hand.

"Hi, nice to meet you?" I said with a smile, "You renting or buying the house?"

She laughed loudly, "Do I look rich or something? Not buying, renting. Are you guys buying?"

She turned and asked the question directly to Vicky, so I went back to rolling up the hose and tried not to think about the heat her hand left behind on mine. It would not do at all to get erect for a while at least. Shit, I hate the lack of relief, it puts my piece of mind at risk.

"Chad, are you listening?" asked Vicky.

"What, no, sorry, I was thinking about something else," I replied. "Did you ask something?"

"I was just asking, I don't have a mower or anything yet, could I borrow yours? It looks like the lawn hasn't been touched for six weeks or more."

I looked over at Vicky and she gave me the 'help her out' look. "How about I come over in the morning, while you're at church or whatever? I'll just mow and trim your bushes," I turned to Vicky, "That okay with you babe? We didn't have plans, right?"

"Of course it's okay. I told her to ask," she smiled and held my arm. No nails digging in, I did the right thing. Whew.

"If you don't mind, I certainly don't," Marge replied looking relieved. "I did tell the landlord I could manage the yard."

I barked a laugh, "That saves the cheap bas... er dude, some money. I'm going to finish putting things away."

I wandered off with the hose and sprinkler. Put them away and watched out the side window of the garage as they walked back toward Marge's new residence. Fuck she was hot. Short shorts, cropped top, I found myself rubbing my crotch and filling my pants. So, I took a breath and escaped to the house. I took a shower, then at the end, turned off the hot water and let the frigid water take away my readiness.

I put on a pair of slacks and a polo and went to Vicky. She was just looking at the pantry to decide what to cook.

"Hey babe, why don't you grab a quick shower, change your clothes and let me take you out for a nice dinner, maybe a movie?"

"Really? Dinner sounds good, but I don't know about a movie," she said. "Maybe we can skip that and just watch something on television. Maybe we can find a good rental on our cable channels."

"That sounds good," I said and folded her into my arms. I kissed her, just a kiss, no tongue, hands on her waist. But after a few seconds, she pushed me back and fled the room. Once she was upstairs, I sighed.

She came down in a little evening dress, red, and oh so sexy. Her hair was done up, making the wait well worth it, and she was wearing full on makeup. She'd skipped the stockings, but was also wearing the big ass heels she used to wear frequently, size not the specific pair. I took her hand, grabbed the hot rod keys and we went out.

I have a putz car for every day driving, I got her a mini-SUV, and I have a hot rod. Mine is one of the new Chargers, with all the extras and the big engine. I handed her into the car and she slid in, looking over to see me scoping her legs. Damn.

I took her to dinner. It was the place she loves, Seafood Helper, or some shit. I think the food is mediocre, but she loves it, so I take her. I do love the shit out of her, even though I don't like her from time to time. I mean that's not true either. I don't like one thing about her. Just that one thing. She teases me, makes me hot, gets me worked up, then nothing. All the rest about her is the bomb. She works, doesn't complain and she loves me in all ways but one.

After the meal, we walk through the mall attached to the restaurant and, inevitably, we wander into the jewelry store. I put my arm on her waist and she pushes closer as she looks. I notice a couple things she likes and make sure I will remember later. We have an anniversary coming up. Then we wander out to the car.

"Want me to drive a bit?" I asked.

"Like when we dated?" she smiled. "Up to the strip? I heard they changed it, made it private, or more private."

I dug in the center console and pulled out a card. It would open the gate and timers for me.

"Remember when we met, guapa," I asked her. She was hanging out with her friends, cholos and hot tamales every one. She was alone though, no boyfriend. After two weeks, I asked her out. A month later, we were an item. We dated for four years, then married, three years now. "I remember you were, and still are, the most beautiful woman out here."

"And you were the daring driver, not the fastest, but strong inside. You made my heart flutter, and um, my tummy."

"Hold on, babe, we're almost to the off ramp," I said and she tightened the seat belt.

The place was definitely different. Lots of lights, in the distance, I could see a track. The run in from the freeway was well lit, slightly curvy and wider than I remember. Near the track, a parking lot and concession area. I rolled down the off ramp and the lights recognized my card, then I got the green.

You really need a bit more in this moment. When I was fourteen, my daddy taught me to drive. He was a hotshot, dirt track driver, hobby stockers. He loved it. When he taught me to drive, I got the bug. Oh did I love the thrill. At sixteen, I was running full out round and rounds and he was retiring, helping me work my car. At seventeen, I won the local regional races and got out to the next level shows. I was running a rebuilt Impala at the time and tearing it up. So, I am a race car driver. The run into parking is about a mile and a half. Coming off the freeway, the fastest safe speed on most street cars was around fifty until you hit the straight. If you were good, you could push double nickels.

Now, all cars are different. This Charger had spoilers front and back to keep the car on the road. I had special shocks, tires, weight distribution. I am not the fastest, but I came down off the freeway at sixty-three mph, screeched through the turn and into the first quarter mile. Vicky was laughing out loud as I screamed down the road, pedal to the floor. There was a slight S ahead and I slipped into it like butter, only losing a little speed. I hit the OD button on the transmission and shot out of the curve into the last half mile of the track.

Then I was in the slow down area and I reduced to parking lot speed. I looked over and Vicky and she was breathing hard, just like the old days.

"Damn, babe," I told her, really feeling it in that moment. "You are so fucking hot. I want you so bad."

She smiled and held my hand as I pulled in to park. They moved me into the number three slot and I proudly slid in. I glanced up at the board. My time put me firmly in third place for the night. Though I was almost five mph off the top two times. They were a half a mile off each other, and the next one under me was just under six mph off my speed.

"Chico!" came the call as we stepped out of the Charger. "Where you been esse?"

Ronnie was one of my friends from the day. He was Mexican and played that up in all his mannerisms. He saw Vicky coming.

"You still dating that hermosa chica, esse?" he said and moved to her. He hugged her and said loudly, "You should leave this loser, come sleep in my bed, bebe. I'll treat you like a princess."

She put on the accent and attitude, "Ah, but he treats me like a queen, guapo."

"Ah, I am struck to the core," he smiled. "Good to see you Vick, and Chad. Long time my friends. He raised a hand and beckoned. Up walked Cynthia.

Cynthia was a skinny little thing back in the day. Five foot five, maybe ninety pounds. But when she walked up, she wasn't tiny. She was eight months pregnant and glowed with a figurative inner light.

"Oy, Cyn, what this esse do to you?" I said in mock horror. "Bebe, come give papi a hug."

She hugged Vicky on the way past, then came to me. "You no come for me, papi. I wait, and you no come. So, I pick other man. Him mi papi now."

I kissed her lips gently then placed my hands on her baby bump. "My god, Cyn, this thing going to be bigger than you when he's born?"

"Dios, I hope not," she said, her voice tired. "I am already worn out carrying him. Vicky, when you going to have one? They can grow up together, amigos like us."

Vicky didn't answer, just hugged her and set up her chair. "You look so beautiful."

"I am fat, but he still make love to me," Cynthia said and reached out for Ronnie's hand. He kissed her.

"You need a drink, Mami? Some of your juice?"

At her nod, he moved off and I followed. He went to his car, an old Camaro, and opened the ice chest. "Dude, three years and you ain't knocked her up yet?"

I looked around, nodded at a couple people I knew then answered, "Man she won't even let me touch her. Two years now."

He looked shocked, then sort of nodded and said, "Wait here, man. I'll be right back."

I looked in and he had several Mountain Dews, so I grabbed one and stuck a dollar in the tray. Then I sat in a chair and waited. He came back a few minutes later. Vicky was talking with her old friends as they hung around Cynthia. He grabbed another Dew, handed me back my dollar and sat down.

"Look man, I never told you this, because it is really not mine to tell, you know?"

He waited for me to nod, then he continued. "Vicky bloomed kind of late, she was eleven. And she bloomed fast. One year, she was a skinny little kid, a year later, she was a gorgeous young woman. Her momma was dead and she had two older brothers and her dad. They were assholes. They used her, from the time she was twelve, until she was sixteen. Me and a friend went to her house one day and caught them pulling a train on her. I filmed it and the next day, we confronted her brothers."

"They got pissed and we ended up beating the shit out of them," he told me. "Luckily, I had the film. I made some copies, posted them where someone would find them if something happened to me or my phone. Then we went to her dad. I threatened to release the film to the press if he didn't stop. He had to sign papers allowing her to take care of herself, Emancipation papers and divorce papers."

"He signed them, then hung himself, giving a complete confession. Her brothers were arrested and sentenced to thirty years for rape and incest, with no possibility of parole. She met you the next year and you two started dating."

"Oh fuck me," I said.

"I thought she would have told you by now," he said. "If she hasn't gotten it, she needs therapy. That kind of shit fucks up your head. She needs to see a therapist, maybe even inpatient. She needs help and when I saw you two today, I could tell. She has that look like when I met her back then."

"Next weekend is our three year anniversary," I said. "We've been together for seven years."

"Maybe you need to see someone too?" he told me. "Look, I know a lady. She is a great counselor. When Cynthia and I had trouble, she helped us." He dug a card out of his wallet and gave it to me. "Get Vicky to go. She deserves to be happy. You deserve to be happy."

I stood up and he did as well. We hugged, you know, bro hug. Then I moved back to the car. I looked at Vicky as I did and she came to me. We said our goodbyes, got kisses from Cynthia and Vicky promised to call her, then we left.

About halfway home, Vicky said, "He told you."

I took a breath, "I should have heard it from you," but I paused and she drew breath, "I understand though, why you couldn't. That is some fucked up shit. What do you want to do about it?"

"I can't do anything about it," she told me, her voice angry. "My asshole father killed himself. One of my brothers died in prison after being gang raped. They put the other one in solitary for five years and he is crazy as a loon now. He will probably never get out of prison. I am stuck with no resolution for the rest of my life."

"Have you tried going to someone, maybe they could help? If not, you are out a little time. If they can help, maybe you can feel a little better." I pulled off the freeway as I spoke and into a little gas station. "Look, I love you like hell. Nothing is going to change that. But this thing with sex, it poisons us, me. Ronnie gave me a card. He and Cynthia went and saw this lady, a couples counselor. Will you let me set up an appointment?"

She looked over at me, down at our hands, joined, fingers lace. She saw the ring, her wedding ring on her finger. She looked up at me, eyes filled with tears.

"What if I can't do it? What if I am too broken? Will you divorce me, throw me away?"

I pulled her to me and hugged her, kissed her face. "Bebe, you are my girl. That's not going to stop. We have to do something about this one area, but in every other way, you are everything I want, everything."

"Oh papi," she sobbed and buried her head in my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, so sorry."

"Shh," I shushed her, "Relax, babe. Do you want to be my girl?"

I used the words I had used the first time I asked her and she pulled back to look at me.

"I do, papi," she told me.

"Then it is settled. I'll make an appointment and we'll give it a try."

"Okay. I love you Chad," she said.

I smiled. "I love you to, bebe."

I climbed out, put some gas in the car. Then I gave her a minute to put herself together and got us a couple HoHos, and a diet soda to split, and went back to the car. She grinned at me and we headed home.

At home we went to the bedroom and I held her on my lap while I kissed her. I unzipped her and pullet the dress off her shoulders. She unhooked her bra and removed it. I played with her nipples and tits as she stroked my hair and shoulders. Then I pulled off my shirt and she stood in front of me. I pushed her dress down and she pushed down the panties. I stood with her and kissed her while she wrapped her arms around me. I cupped her ass, then stepped back slightly and removed my pants, stepping my socks off as well. We were naked.

She was breathing heavily and I was highly excited. She climbed up on the bed and spread herself open. "Quick, papi, come and just do it. Fuck me and take your pleasure."

It hit me then, in that moment. She didn't want it, really didn't want it. She was going to do it only because I wanted it. She just didn't feel free to say no. I deflated. I lay next to her and rolled her away, then carefully held her, as non-sexually as I could with both of us naked.

"I'm not going to rape you," I said and she flinched. "I don't want to take away your ability to say no. I don't want to take you when you don't want it. I want you to want it, the joy of a full relationship with your husband. And bebe, if that mother fucker wasn't dead, I'd fucking kill him."

She cried and cried until she fell asleep. I crawled out of bed, covered her with the blankets and kissed her back to sleep when she stirred. I went to the living room and filled a bowl. I sat on the window seat, where I always sit, still naked and smoked my bowl. When I finished, I looked out at the world. Then I noticed there was Marge, sitting opposite me, maybe twenty feet and two panes of glass separating us. She was as naked as I. She sat staring at me, lightly rubbing herself.

I looked her in the eye and she looked back, pinching her tits, pressing her mons. I gasped at her beauty as she brought herself to fruition, then she left the window seat and disappeared from view.

I went and laid down with my wife, snuggled up to her and fell asleep.