John Friday: Captive wives

"Not tonight, Stan – please, I have a headache." Alice Thurmond pushed her husband's hand from her naked thigh and then stroked her forehead as though to soothe an awful pain.

"Not tonight, not last night, not the night before that. For Christsake, Alice – my cock is so hard I can't stand it! What the shit is wrong with you?"

"I told you, I have a headache!"

"You always have a headache!"

"No, I don't!" she said sharply.

"You're right… last night you were too tired. The night before, you'd just had your hair done, and you didn't want me to mess it up."

"Stan!" she said impatiently, "you know I can't go to work in the morning tired and looking like a sleazy whore."

"That's it!" His eyes gleamed in their darkened bedroom. "That's when it all started – when you got that stupid job!"

"Being the assistant buyer for this town's biggest store is not a stupid job. You know – I earn more than you do now…"

"You don't have to remind me!" That had been a sore point ever since Alice got her last raise.

"And you know how much we need the money I bring home," she added, like twisting a knife in an open wound.

"What money you bring home? You spend most of it having your damn hair done, eating out and buying new clothes. We had to get another car, buy gas and pay for parking. Shit, I'll bet we end up in the hole."

She gave him a look of total disgust and turned her back on him, angrily fluffing her pillow. "I've got to get some sleep. I have an important meeting firt thing in the morning."

"You have an even more important meeting right now!" Stan grabbed her shoulder and pulled her toward him, flattening her on her back.

"Stan! What are you doing?" He had never acted so forcefully before.

"I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago. I'm going to fuck you whether you like it or not!"

"Staaaaannnnn!" His name became a prolonged screech of disbelief.

Stan grabbed the scooped neck of Alice's filmy nightgown and ripped it open clear to her crotch. Then he snapped on the lamp above the bed and gazed hungrily at her heaving tits.

Alice had a beautiful figure. That made her frequent excuses to avoid fucking all the more painful. Her breasts were full and soft, crowned with dark nipples that bulged invitingly, especially now when tensed with fear.

"You've gone crazy!" she gasped when she saw the wicked gleam of lust in his flashing eyes. "You're jealous because I have such an important job…"

"Alice…" Stan said with a grin of mocking sweetness, "…shut up!"

He tore a large wad of lacy film from the neck of her gown and stuffed it into her mouth.

"Mmmuuunngh!" she groaned, raging with frustration when he caught her wrists and swept her hands away from her face.

Fear and fury gave her startling strength. Stan didn't think he could hold her for long with just his two hands. He threw a leg across her chest and dropped on her with such force that a gush of breath almost popped the gag from her mouth. He pinned her flailing arms beneath his knees and calmly began tearing her nightgown into long strips.

"Bbbrrraaahhh!" She forced the gag out with her tongue. "Stan, you can't do this to me! It isn't right – it isn't fair!"

"Neither is turning your Goddamn back every time I want to fuck!"

As he spoke, he twisted two long strips of filmy material until they were as taut and strong as braided rope. Then he knotted one tightly around each of his wife's flapping wrists.

Alice gazed in horror, stunned by the violence of his angry desire.

"You-you were always so kind and understanding!" she gasped, watching with widened eyes as he pulled the knots tight.

"What that got me was a lot of shit and an aching cock!" He grabbed her right arm and tied it to the heavy wooden bed post.

"Stan! You can't DO this to me! I'm your wife!"

"I thought sure you'd forgotten," he said with a chilling grin.

Then he leaned down, stretched out her left arm and knotted it to the far side of the bed.

"Stan!" Alice never could stand restraint. She wouldn't even ride in a crowded elevator.

Satisfied that both of Alice's arms were securely tied, Stan slid off of her and stood beside the bed, his gaze drifting toward the wide, thick spread of gleaming black pussy hair between her two long and elegantly tapered legs. While he stared, amiously wetting his lips, he twisted two more long strips of cloth into tight ropes.

"No!" She kicked both her feet so hard and fast that he had trouble grabbing one. "Uuuugh!" she grunted angrily, lashing out with her free leg.

Stan's leering grin tightened like the knot of twisted cloth around her ankle. He dragged her right leg down, bending it at the knee over the end of the bed. Alice kicked for his head when he bent down to bind her ankle to the bed leg.

"Oooooh, God!" she moaned.

She couldn't twist enough to deliver a good kick, and suddenly she felt another sharp tug and could not move at all.

"I'll have your ass for this!" she warned. "I'll divorce you, take every damn cent you ever made and have them slap your ass into jail where it belongs…"

Stan's icy stare cut her off. "Alice…" he said again sweetly. "SHUT UP!"

He bent down and stuffed the gag back in her mouth, bunching it hard this time. She fought him, clenching her teeth and twisting her head, but it was no use. He was too strong – insanely strong, she thought with a shudder.

With the gagging wad wedged firmly in place, Stan took another long strip and tied it around her head. No way now could she spit it out. Her eyes looked like two glazed pools, wide, lifeless and still.

Stan circled back to the foot of the bed and stood gazing at her, a crooked smile on his lips. Satisfaction. Satisfaction at last! Sweet revenge for how many months of headaches and other flimsy excuses?

His gaze followed the sharp V of her wide-spread legs to the pink lips of her cunt. Those were spread too, and pulsing. Maybe in anger, maybe in fear – it didn't really matter. Before that joyous moment, Stan thought her fucking cunt had died and shriveled like a prune.

He smiled hungrily and traced a slow circle around his lips with his outstretched tongue, remembering how rich and musky his wife's pussy used to taste… a long time ago. A long, long time ago.

He wanted to dive on her once again, bury his face in that thickly furred pussy of hers and lash at it with his tongue. But she'd made him wait so long now, a little longer wouldn't hurt. In fact, he thought with a wicked twinkle in his eyes – waiting is going to make it even better!

Alice lay rigid with fear. A look of contempt blazed in her eyes. That sonuvabitch! His fragile male ego can't stand my success.

It never occurred to her that it was her neglect that hurt him so. When she had gotten her job and then a promotion, her husband had become less important in her life, and she had never even noticed the change.

Stan wished he had a bullwhip – ten feet of gleaming black braided leather with a forked popping tip like a serpent's tongue. Like his wife's sharp tongue!

"How many people did you have to tell when you started making more money than me?" Stan asked. He scratched his head, like he was trying to remember. "There was that party at Frank and Jana's across the street. You could hardly wait to get it out – tell everybody and make me look small!"

Alice cowered, trembling with fear. She wanted to say she was sorry, but she really wasn't. She was very proud when she got that promotion, prouder still of the raise that made her take-home pay more than his.

Stan could read the look in her eyes. "Too bad you forgot to tell them the difference is a fucking three bucks a week, that you spend double that just to park the Goddamned car downtown. Or that twenty a week comes out of my check for the credit union so we can take a nice vacation every year. I get nicked for all the medical and dental insurance too. Your fucking fancy job doesn't even offer that!"