The Monster Within Ch. 03

When the core members of the gang were dead, the police were finally able to overpower the rest and arrest the corrupted members of the force. I then turned towards the chief and the mayor. But they had escaped my grasp. When they realised that the gang was defeated, they turned themselves in, confessed to multiple cases of corruption, fraud, theft and various other things. They were sentenced to serve twenty five years in prison. In reality, that means they will serve fifteen years and then be freed on parole.

Of these fifteen years they have twelve years, seven month and sixteen days left to serve and in twelve years, seven month and seventeen days they will be dead." I fell quiet. Halfway through the story I had closed my eyes reliving the events as I spoke. I didn't cry. Deep inside of me there was an ice-cold sphere that waited for my revenge to be completed. It wouldn't let me cry.

"The state prosecutor, the psychologists and the courts babbled something of a breakdown, of unaccountability, of self-defence. But I, deep inside, know the truth. I did it with my mind fully intact and I would do it again. That's why I pleaded guilty and requested a life sentence. But the judge followed the prosecutor who requested a not-guilty verdict and I was freed of all charges. It was a weird situation with the defendant requesting a higher punishment than the prosecutor. I was even awarded a medal of honour for 'outstanding services in the defence of the people'. Maybe they will understand how wrong they were when the chief and the mayor are dead."

***

I was drained, emotionally drained. I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't know if Beverly was still here or if she had fled my house. I neither wanted to see her still here, with the disgust about my actions in her eyes, nor did I want to see that she had left. What I wasn't prepared for was consolation. But that was what I got.

"Stan, my poor, suffering, broken Stan. How have you been able to take this? How can one man suffer so much and still come out sane? How have you been able to bear that burden all alone with no one around to support you? My poor man, my poor love."

She pulled me to her bosom. I didn't understand. Why was she still here? Why was she comforting me? Didn't she just listen to me tell my story? I pulled out of her embrace and opened my eyes.

"What are you doing? Don't you see what a terrible man I am? I killed, I tortured, I enjoyed it and I will do it again. I can still feel that monster deep inside of me, waiting to get out, to complete its revenge. I don't want to expose you to it, I don't want you harmed by it. It's not gone. It's not even asleep. It is waiting. Impatiently waiting for the chief and the mayor to leave the safety of their prison cells."

She took my hands in hers, forcing me to turn towards her, "Stan, it's not your fault, you were not sane."

I averted my eyes, "Yes, I was."

"No, you weren't."

"Yes, I was."

"No, you weren't. You might think you were and yes, you made conscious decisions, you made plans and you acted on them but that's not the definition of sane, you are not accountable for those actions."

"How would you know?"

"You were not accountable. Do you think the court took this decision lightly? You must talk to a psychiatrist about it."

She lifted my hands up to her mouth and planted soft kisses on the back of them, "You need help to process these events. Please let me help. You said yourself, I can show more empathy in a minute than you can in a month. Believe me, nobody will abandon you, nobody will turn away from you. Those of your friends that I've met in the last few days, all know you suffer, but they all think it's because of Sandra and the twins. So did I. But that's not it. You have accepted their deaths. I can see that now. You suffer because you are still deep in a depression from which you never recovered. You suffer because you erroneously think that you're a bad man."

"Stan, my love, you are not. You are the strongest, nicest and most perfect man I've ever met and you are that man despite the horrific events in your past, not because of them. Please, let me help."

I raised my eyes to meet hers, the confusion I felt most likely there to be seen, "You don't know... I don't understand..."

"I know. But you will. Please let me help."

She pulled me back in her embrace and I let it happen. I almost cried but the monster deep inside still didn't let me. The revenge was not yet completed and it wouldn't let me find peace until the last two involved were dead. Beverly rocked me back and forth, soothing me, comforting me. Maybe she was right, maybe I should see a shrink. I could see her reasoning but I was still scared of the outcome. What if the shrink found out that I had in fact been accountable for my actions? Being emotionally drained and exhausted from telling the story I fell into a light troubled sleep, my head still pressed to Beverly's bosom.

***

I woke an eternity later. My head and upper body had dropped into Beverly's lap. She had been with me the entire time.

"Hi, love. How do you feel?" she asked, looking at me affectionately.

"Exhausted. Confused. Crippled. What time is it? How long did I sleep?"

"It's 16.00h, you've slept for about an hour."

"And you had to sit here the entire time instead of doing something useful?"

"Ok. A change of topic you want, a change of topic I grant. But I will convince you to get professional help. I will not forget, I will not wane and I will succeed.

No, I didn't have to sit here, I wanted to sit here and it was the most useful thing I've ever done in my entire life."

"I need to walk the pack."

"Then I suggest that you take your pack for a walk while I later prepare dinner."

"Why don't you join me and we cook dinner together afterwards?"

"Because I think you should spend some time alone with your thoughts."

***

When I came back from the walk, she had prepared some pasta with a tomato sauce pepped with yesterday's leftovers. Delicious but nothing I couldn't have created myself. After we had eaten, we cleaned away the dishes.

"Stan, I hope I haven't crossed any borders but while you were walking the pack I called an old friend of my mother. She's a quite well-known psychiatrist. I gave her a rough outline of the situation: a close friend, severely traumatised, needing help, but so far refusing to accept it. No names, no details. If you say no, I will call her and cancel, but if you agree you have an appointment with her on Saturday, 14.00h, here in your house. I just need to tell her your address."

"I've talked to shrinks before. None understood. I don't think she can help. What's her name?"

"Elaine Fish."

I stopped my prepared answer short. She was good. She was so good, that I had stopped going to her because I feared she would find the truth. She was the one who might have understood.

"I know her. She was one of the psychiatrists I went to for a short time before and after the trial. I still think it's a waste of time but I'm willing to give her another chance because you ask me to."

"No, that's not how it works. You will not do this because I ask you to. You will do it because you know or feel it is the right thing to do. You can compare this to drug withdrawal. If you don't do it for yourself, you will not make it through. So if you just do it for me, I'll call her and cancel."

I reflected on it, "Then cancel."

"Ok. I will. But this is not the end of it."

***

That night we still didn't have sex but we came closer than we had since the bust up. We lay in bed together, holding, comforting, kissing, cuddling, snuggling and caring. We exchanged affection rather than lust. I was far too drained emotionally, far too confused to be ready for sex. But her touches, her care, did not only touch my skin. They reached far deeper, soothing in places no one but Sandra had ever touched. It was terrifying that Beverly could reach these places after such a short time and it was wonderful that Beverly could reach these places after such a short time. It obviously didn't help to clean away my confusion but it helped to see a dim light at the end of the tunnel.

"Bev."

"Hmmm."

"It will probably take some time before I can say that I love you and I won't say it unless I really mean it but I want you to know that I really like you, that I really do care about you and that I want you to stay close."

She hugged me tightly, giving me a caring, tender kiss. "Thank you for telling, thank you for your honesty, my love."

"And Bev, please call that shrink. I guess you're right. I need to see her."

She hugged me even harder, buried her face in my shoulder and started crying. I continued to share my affection, trying to sooth her, not understanding her tears.

"What's wrong now?"

"Nothing, my love, nothing. These are tears of joy."

She drew up her nose, trying not to smear the snot on my shoulder.

"Now that's my sexy girl," I joked as I tried to reach the tissues I had dropped on the night stand yesterday.

A long while later we fell asleep. I was still confused, maybe even more confused than ever, but deep inside, where that cold sphere of hatred waited for its release I felt something different, something resembling warmth or at least reduced coldness.

***

The next morning I went to the city before Beverly got up. I had a few things to prepare. When I came back, I found her in the kitchen drinking coffee, surfing the web on her phone.

I got myself a coffee and sat down next to her.

"Morning, Bev. I have a few thing I would like to discuss with you. Are you sufficiently awake?"

"Sure, I might sleep long but once I'm up, I usually fine."

"Here, first of all I want you to take this."

"Your banking card? Are you crazy?"

"The jury is still out on that question but don't worry. It's only linked to an account with a few thousand Francs in it. My accountant makes sure it remains in the black. It is intended for house-hold expenses like food, cleaning stuff and so on. If you plan to take the money and run, you should be aware of the fact that it won't get you much further than the border," I smiled at her. "But it's much easier than supplying you with cash like I did over the last few weeks. And as you are unemployed and without income while I have money to spare, it's blatantly obvious that I cover the living costs. It makes absolutely no sense for you to spend your savings."

"What? No! You can't just take such a decision alone."

"That discussion is finished. We will share all other tasks in the house. We will keep it clean together, with the help of Elizabeth of course, we will both be responsible for cooking and for groceries shopping. We will share the tasks of washing clothes, changing bedsheets, replacing empty toilet paper rolls, and so on. And don't forget the garden, there's a lot of work to be done there too. I do not want you to think I buy services from you or something. As long as you live here, we will run this household together as equals with equal rights and duties and joint decisions. But money is not an object."

"I hate garden work."

"And I hate washing or more precisely putting the washed clothes back in the wardrobes. So maybe we jointly find a reallocation of tasks. Ok? Please! Don't make it more complicated than necessary," I gave her my best puppy eyes to take out a bit of the seriousness of the moment.

"Ok. I agree. I might take some getting used to spending other people's money."

Technically speaking she had already done this, as I had covered the costs for food in the past weeks but I was smart enough not to mention that.

"It does but the other way around is far more difficult and I never told you to burn it. Despite all I have, I don't eat filet every day and when I buy groceries I always look out for bargains. Now that was only the first point I wanted to discuss. We might be in for a long day," I smiled. I knew I had tackled the most controversial topic right at the start.

"I want to give you this as a gift and a thank you for being the wonderful woman you are," I handed her a flat package wrapped in fancy paper. "I'm sorry for the tasteless packaging but they didn't have anything else around in the shop and I neither had the time nor do I have the talent to do it myself."

Curiously she tore the paper off. "A tablet! Wonderful! Thank you!" She gave me a hug and a kiss.

"The morning coffee is so much more enjoyable with a tablet to read on than just a phone. If you need help to set it up, just tell me. I'm much better with IT stuff than with gym machines."

Beverly laughed out loud as she remembered my clumsy attempts at helping her assemble her fitness machines. "I think I'll manage myself but I know where to find you if I fail."

"And the last for today is this here," I handed her a piece of paper.

"That's the change of address for the registration office." Tears welled up in her eyes. "You want me to move in?"

"Well, technically you have already moved in and you already have my banking card, so..." I joked, still not really comfortable with openly shown emotions, "But yes. I want you to move in here. I told you I want you to stay close and this is the best way to support that goal."

She hopped over from her chair in my lap, gave me an affectionate kiss and then buried her face in my shoulder, crying. Again. Why did I always make her cry? It was the opposite of what I intended. Her crying finally slowed and she looked up at me.

"You're such a stunningly non-empathic man. When a woman sits in your lap and cries tears of joy on your shoulder, you are supposed to seduce her, you Dumbo. Let's see if you understand this sign then."

She started to wiggle her hips in my lap, rubbing my cock.

"Hmmm. Restless, unsettled, moving your hips. You need to go the bathroom?" I asked feigning stupidity but at the same time I used one hand to support her back and lifted one leg to make her lose her balance. When she tipped backwards, I caught her, leaned over her and moved my mouth to hers. We kissed, softly at first but quickly our kiss became more intense, more forceful. Our tongues didn't tease this time, they fought a war. The way she sat on my lap, I had her full front side to roam my free hand over. I took full advantage of her exposed position as I rather clumsily pushed the T-shirt she used as pyjamas upwards. I fondled and carefully but insistently kneaded her breasts alternately, I teased her nipples, I caressed her flat stomach, her wonderful thighs, her soft pussy. All the while our tongues were fighting but with her body at my mercy she was fighting an uphill battle. I reduced the area of roaming, focussing on her marvellous, round and full breasts, her perfect little nipples, her moist pussy, her inviting slit, her exposed clit. Soon I felt her stiffen, I remembered the sign and increased the pace with which I pumped my fingers in and out of her pussy. She tensed, I continued finger-fucking her, she held it, I massaged her clit, she exploded and while I let her shake, I made sure my fingers stayed in her pussy and my thumb continued to tease her clit. She shook, she trembled, she screamed, her orgasm prolonged by my ministrations. She finally slumped. I held her, provided support with my hand behind her back, kissed her softly, slowly and let her enjoy the afterglow of her orgasm.

"Holy crap. You're better at getting me off than I am myself," she panted as she slowly recovered. After a minute of soft stroking she had caught her breath.

"You know what the best thing about being a woman is?"

I shook my head.

"We can be multi-orgasmic," she grinned widely. "I'm not done with you, my love."

I put my free hand under her ass and without a reply I rose from the chair, her lean body in my arms and carried her towards the stairs.

"Man strong. Woman impressed. Fuck now!" she gave a cave woman imitation.

When we reached the bedroom I laid her down carefully on the bed and was just about to move in above her when she quickly turned around resting her upper body on her elbows and presented her perfect ass with her sopping pussy high up in the air. I accepted the invitation, bent down and pulled my tongue from the clit all the way to the other end of her pussy. She moaned loudly, surprised, she hadn't expected me to lick her, she had expected penetration. I continued to eat her pussy, teasing her, licking her, getting her worked up again, a finger on her clit, two in her pussy and my tongue darting back and forth in between. When I felt her orgasm approaching, I loved how she stiffened, it was such a perfect way marker, I stopped my oral attack, raised and positioned myself behind her. I used the juices from the fingers I had pulled from her pussy to moisten my cock, I positioned the head at her opening and slowly but firmly pressed in. It took some juggling, I had to pull out a bit once but then buried my rock hard shaft to the hilt.

"Oh so wonderfully tight."

"Oh so perfectly full." We spoke simultaneously. I grabbed her by the hips and pulled out. When only the tip of the head was left in her, I pushed back in, no juggling this time, no need to withdraw. She groaned loudly, I repeated the movements, out to the tip, in to the hilt. Again. Again. Again. Again. She stiffened and I smiled knowing what was about to happen. I didn't stop, I kept pounding rhythmically, she tensed up, I increased the speed, bottomed out, hard, again, she couldn't hold it anymore, she came, she screamed out her release, her whole body shook. I continued, I wanted to pound her forever, and her orgasm went on and on, the shaking didn't cease. I felt her stiffen while still cumming, I kept going, she tensed, she took off again, "ohmygodohmygodohmygod." I still didn't stop. When my balls started to tighten I increased the speed, she stiffened, tensed, exploded again.

I roared, "Yesssssssssssssssss. Oh god, yessssssssssssss."

I spurted my load deep into her sensitive pussy, feeling me cum, set her of again.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmyg..."

She fell quiet and went limp. She dropped forward. She had passed out. I laid above her, exhausted, supporting my weight with my arms to avoid crushing her.

When I had recovered some strength, I carefully got up and went for the bathroom. I brought a few warm washcloths with me. I gently lifted her upwards to her pillow and pulled her into a sideways position. I gently placed one of the washcloths between her legs, covering her pussy, catching our leaking juices, I used another one to softly clean the sweat from her face and neck and then laid it over her forehead. The last one I used to wash away the sweat on her bosom, her stomach and her back. With all blankets beneath her, I got a fresh one from the cupboard in the closet and covered her to keep her warm. I then lay down behind her, holding her, guarding her. After a few minutes she started to stir.

Confused she reached up to her forehead and found the washcloth. "What...?" She then must have felt the cloth between her legs because she reached down to it.

"Ouch," she whimpered, turned on her back and looked at me. "What happened? Where do these washcloths come from?"

"You passed out," I grinned proudly.

"What? I remember you carried me up here, I offered you to take me from behind and you... you licked me. You licked me to the brink of an orgasm and then took me. I came and came, oh holy shit, I remember, how often? Five times? Six? Then you came and I had the strongest orgasm ever. It felt as if an orgasm had an orgasm. Oh my god." Her body trembled as she remembered her last orgasm and experienced a soft after-shock.

"Then the washcloths. Oh my god. You fucked me unconscious! You'll pay for that! You can't just fuck me unconscious! I'm supposed to be the experienced of us! I should teach you, not vice versa."