Perry Scope - When the loving gets rough

Karen nodded indifferently. Pat came over to the bed. She looked at Karen speculatively. A new excitement was dawning in her clear, pale eyes. "You've got to help with the burden of finances, Karen," she announced suddenly. Her laugh was grating. "The honeymoon's over."

"Is that what it was?" Karen asked dully.

Pat hadn't heard her. "It's about time."

"I told you from the start I'd get a job if you'd let me…" Karen retorted, the fine stirrings of anger getting the better of her desire for noninvolvement.

"I'm not talking about a job. You know what I'm talking about!" Pat began to knead Karen's stomach with lazy fingers. "I can get you a date in a minute. One phone call would do it."

Karen didn't know if she was pleased or disappointed to discover that nothing Pat could do or suggest surprised her anymore. She shook her head calmly. "I'll get a job, but forget that. It's out."

Pat colored slightly. "Are you telling me that you refuse?" Her hand stayed on the soft belly, but the fingers tightened convulsively.

Karen began to feel a slight tremor of fear. Pat had a will that had intimidated her from the first. "I'll work for you, if you want. But I won't do that. I can't, Pat! Don't you understand? It would make me sick! Don't ask me to do that!"

"Don't be a melodramatic idiot! It isn't so bad, you know. I can tell you how to do it so you don't feel a thing." Pat began to grow excited. Her hand moved to Karen's breast. She held one tightly. "You just lie back, smile sweetly, and think your way out of the room! It works! I do it all the time!" Pat wondered suddenly when she had done that the last time. She couldn't remember.

"Pat, don't." Karen tried to remove the hand without angering the girl. Pat was hurting the tender flesh now. "Maybe you can do that astro-projection stuff, but I can't! I said I'd work for you if you want. Why do you insist I do this?"

Pat let go of the full breast and reached for the other. She didn't notice the red streaks her fingers had made in the flesh. She thought of what a great kick it would be to take this girl after she had been ravished by a man! "It has to be this way. That's all there is to it. Don't argue about it anymore. I'll make it for tomorrow."

"Don't bother," Karen stated flatly. "I won't do it. You can't make me do it!" She had gone so far for Pat. First for love, then for peace, finally for pity. The idea of a paid alliance with a strange man sickened her.

"You must! If you love me, you should be glad to do it!" Pat threw herself on the girl, feverishly trying to arouse her to at least a physical response. She did all the things Karen used to go wild from. But Karen felt nothing, and Pat knew it.

"You don't love me!" Pat ranted finally, moving away from the blonde. "You never did," she accused.

"That's not true," Karen answered softly, wondering if it was.

"Don't lie to me!" Pat thundered. "If you did you'd do this, if it was important to me."

"Why is it important to you, Pat?" Karen asked in a whisper, fascinated in spite of herself.

"Because…" Pat closed her eyes. Her face was like a tight mask. "Because I want it! That's reason enough! You lived off the money I made that way, didn't you? It wasn't too good for you then!"

Karen flushed. Pat was right. Why hadn't she protested more then? Why had she allowed all this to happen to them, to her? "I don't care what you say. I won't do it."

Pat's face suddenly collapsed. It was as if a waxen mask had drifted too near a luminous candle. The features seemed to run together crazily. She buried her face against Karen's breasts, wetting them with her hot tears. "Do this last thing for me, Karen! Please! Show me you love me this way…"

Karen was horrified. Pat's slim body was quaking hideously against her. She had expected cold fury, even physical brutality from Pat. She could have coped with that. But these senseless tears, these body-shaking tremors left her more whipped than if Pat had flogged her body with lead-tipped quirts. She found herself agreeing mutely to whatever Pat wanted of her. "Yes, all right," she muttered hoarsely. "Anything you say, only stop. For God's sake, stop! Please, I can't take any more." Karen moaned weakly.

Pat dried her eyes quickly. She spoke into Karen's large breasts. "You'll see… it won't be bad. You won't feel a thing. Just do as I tell you and it will be fine."

The words had no meaning for Karen. How many more things could Pat think up? With Al, Karen thought hazily, it would have meant doing so little and getting so much! And with Pat, doing everything meant getting nothing, nothing at all… Pay! Suffer!

Karen watched the man remove his clothing. He wasn't really as awful in appearance as Karen expected him to be, nor was he at all vulgar in his speech or treatment of her. She had followed Pat's instructions to the letter, undressing in the man's presence, even saying the right things to him at the right time. She didn't know how she had accomplished it all. Pat had told her to think of herself as an actress playing a role. It hadn't been nearly as difficult as she had expected.

"I'll leave this up here, okay?" The man, graying and not out of his early fifties, indicated a folded stack of crisp bills. He came to the bed, brightly-colored shorts his only covering. His body was soft from the years of sitting at a desk.

"Fine." Karen felt the tension start in again as the man lowered his heavy body on the edge of the bed and removed his final garment.

He then stood up and turned to her. He was obviously proud of the one part of his body which hadn't aged or grown soft. He showed the readiness of a young man.

Karen hadn't minded his eyes on her naked body before this. She had left her modesty back in the house by the beach. But now, with his body alert and threatening, Karen had to fight against the urge to cover herself from his eyes. She steeled herself. It mattered so very little… Suffer!

"Move over, honey," the man said, easing himself in the bed beside her.

The touch of his bare flesh against her body was vile. She barely managed to suppress her repugnance. She remembered what Pat had said about not feeling anything. She hoped it would work.

The man's eyes became slits. "I want it to be good for you, too. Do you like to play around for a while, or get right to it?"

"What – whatever you want." Karen tried to keep her voice natural. It was one of the most difficult things she had ever tried to do. "I like it either way," she stammered.

"Good!" The man captured one of her mountainous breasts between his two hands and rolled it loosely. Then he lowered his face to a pink nipple. His teeth were sharp.

Karen closed her eyes. She felt no pleasure, but at the same time the feeling was not as repulsive as she thought it might be. His mouth was hot and hungry. Karen was unmoved by it. If only she could retain this feeling of distance, she could live through this.

"Beautiful, beautiful," the man was mumbling. He took her hand and placed it on his stiff meat.

Karen wanted to jerk her hand away. The touch of him made her want to be sick. But, with a nearly masochistic willingness, she allowed her hand to stay where it was. She was his, bought and paid for. The least she could do was see that he got his money's worth. She started, instead, to twist her thoughts away from the room. If there was anything at all in what Pat said, Karen was more than willing to give it a chance. But the only thing she found she wanted to think of was Al, and she couldn't think of him now!

The man was content to probe and kiss her body for a long time. He was especially fascinated with her breasts. He touched her young body obsessively, not wanting to miss an inch of its loveliness.

Karen thought of a scene she and Pat had seen from one of those cars in which they had hitchhiked. It was a simple, overrun garden blocked from human eyes by the thick walls of a fire-ruined home at the edge of a cliff. She had particularly liked an ancient apple tree, its trunk was ravished and gnarled, yet, small buds peeked out of the branches, assuring nature of its victory over disaster.