Unckown - The Willing Mrs. Talbot

But the woman seemed on fire with passion. She twisted and turned as if in the throes of an unbelievable ecstasy. Her face was drawn tight, her teeth bared in a snarl of pure, exquisite agony, by this time.

She shuddered and jerked about the floor, moaning and gasping, as an orgasm began to boil in the pit of her tortured cunt. She screamed softly as her husband slammed into her cunt again, driving his prick to the very pit of her throbbing chamber.

Again and again the man drove into her. She twisted and turned under his assault, nodding her head, violently, now, as her powerful urges overcame her. "Ohh, God, yes, Masters the pain, yes, it's making me come," she groaned. "I'm going to come, Winston! Fuck me harder, I'm going to come!"

She screamed with pleasure, then, bucking fiercely as the climax exploded in her cunt. Maggie could see Winston driving hard and viciously into her, then, thrusting his meat to the pit of her bursting tunnel in a final burst of passion.

He shuddered and quaked inside of his wife, laughing as his orgasm tore through him, then. "You pig, I'm coming, too, I'm coming too, you bitch!"

Maggie watched as the two of them quivered and rocked on the floor, Nola's hands straining at the tight strips of pillow case that bound them to the bed. The woman's face was etched with ecstasy as her climax roared through her, and Maggie pulled away from the sickening scene, unable to watch it any longer.

She hurried back to the room she shared with Dashiell, her belly churning with the sour bile of horror. As she lay back down on the bed beside him, she had to wrap her arms around herself to keep from shaking.

She could not believe what she had just witnessed. It was the most savage and violent act of passion she could have ever imagined. It was cruel and brutal and the man had been nothing less than an animal. But what was worse, was the way his wife had responded. As if the attack was not only just, but intensely pleasing, besides.

Maggie did not know what to do about this. She lay on the bed, staring into the darkness of the room, horror and fear racing through her almost at will. Her mind was raging with a thousand thoughts, not the least of which the violent episode with her husband just a few hours earlier.

She could not get it out of her mind that all of this was somehow connected. That Dash and she and the rest of them were all caught in a web of brutal and savage horror that she might not be able to escape. Standing in the center of her fear, was the massive figure of E.G. Talbot, grinning his cruel, mocking smile, almost beckoning her to join him in whatever twisted pleasures the man seemed to enjoy.

When she awoke, to a sun that was deceptively bright and cheery, it was as if her worries and fears were mocking her with the contrast of a pleasing dawn. She yawned as she sat up, gazing over to where her husband lay, still sleeping.

Usually, Dash awoke when she did, for they both liked to face the day early, so to have as much use of it as possible. She smiled at him, allowing her gaze to linger on his still frame for a few moments, remembering the many dawns they had shared in the past.

It was always after a long and delicious night of love-making. They would watch the sun bursting slowly into life, and sip wine as they sat as close together as two bodies can ever get.

Her life was filled with meaning, then, she had her career and she had her man, and it seemed as if nothing could harm them. Then things began to change. Dash grew more and more distant.

Each, visit they made to his family's home seemed to take more and more of the life and love from him. He seemed to be drained by his father, sucked dry of the living energy that compelled him. She had tried to fight it from a distance, but had lost the battle, and now she would have to fight it on E.G.'s home ground, it appeared.

She did not know what hold the man had over his sons, what horrible, secret power he possessed, but she dreaded making the discovery. She was certain that violence played a part in all of this, and she began to fear for her own safety, as well.

She had witnessed a savage beating and rape by Winston, and had suffered an equally as brutal attack by her own husband. The only difference in the two events, was Dash's obvious restraint, and Nola's eager acceptance of her abuse.

These two, things troubled her. On the one hand, it appeared that her husband had been acting not quite out of his own will. Almost as if he had been compelled to beat her, to force her into the oral gratification she had given him. On the other hand, the vaguely disturbing aspect of a woman so eagerly submitting to such abuse as Nola had, frightened her.

She sat up on the bed, then, stretching and groaning, hoping to awaken Dash with her moans. He slept on however, and she finally rose from her bed and went into the bathroom to wash the sleep from her face and eyes.

When she finished, she slipped on a robe and slowly made her way down the stairs, wondering if the servants were up. She was hungry, now, being used to an early breakfast, and she hoped that one of the cooks was already going to work.

As she slipped out of the door, her husband listened for the click of the latch, and when he heard it, he turned with an agonized moan and stared at the door she had left by. He reached over to his pack beside the bed and lit a cigarette, puffing hungrily on the tobacco.

He had hardly slept at all last night, though he had cleverly made it seem as much to his wife. He was terrified that things were quickly getting out of control, and uncertain as to how to deal with them.

In many ways, she was much stronger than he was, and Dashiell Talbot was worried deeply, that his wife might stumble into something they could not easily get free of. He had known exactly what his father meant at the table the night before. His memory was rich was events that he had lived through, and once thought he had escaped.

He puffed on the, cigarette, remembering with fear and trembling how he had watched as Maggie slipped down the hail the night before and observed the happenings in his brother's room.

He didn't have to see what was going on, he knew only too well what Nola had goaded her husband into doing to her. He could even see her face, fat, and eager for the abuse, pushing, with vile words and insults, poor Winston to the limit.

Once, his older brother had been completely free of their father's curse. The two of them had vowed to each other that they would never submit to the old man's passion for punishment and discipline. All the years they had been growing up, E.G. Talbot had tried to train a taste for beatings and harsh commands into them, but they had resisted.

They had promised each other that the old man wouldn't be able to make them give in. That they would fight him every step of the way. They had suffered much for this. They had been beaten themselves, forced to beat each other, and equally, forced to beat their mother on a number of occasions. But still they had resisted.

The pleasure had not appealed to them, the delight in punishing another, in subjecting someone to vicious and painful discipline had not invaded their souls. It seemed as if they might yet be able to escape the old man's madness.

Then they drifted apart. Winston had left home, leaving Dashiell behind to suffer on his own. His older brother had struck out in Hollywood, hadn't, become the star he was supposed to become, and the old man had laughed and taunted him.

Then, Winston had met Nola. From the beginning, Dash had been able to see through the woman, able to see the greed in her eyes. He could tell the old man saw it, too, but E.G. did not protest.

His father seemed to think that Nola was just the woman for his eldest son. One that could wrap him around her finger, bring him to her desires, and those too, of E.G. Talbot. It wasn't very long before Nola saw what the old man liked, and had Winston performing in the required fashion.