Home > Miscellaneous > Blood Will Tell > Chapter 5
He moved around and climbed the platform, sitting down on the bed and looking up at where she was still whimpering, tears running down her cheeks. A sick pain twisted in his gut. He'd always hated to see her cry. The first time he'd ever seen her, she'd been crying... on a bench in the park, tucked back in a little niche where hardly anyone went, the sun through the leaves catching a teardrop and turning it to a diamond. She'd been so lovely, all soft whites and golden hair, and he'd decided in that instant that he was going to have her, and anyone who ever made her cry again would suffer for it. And here he had...
No. That was wrong. That was just another lie. He had to remember that. Even if the little whimpers escaping the gag still had an effect on him, it was just... habit. She'd never been the sweet, gentle woman he'd loved. That was just a role she played to... to... Why? Why the lie? Why not just stay with the one she'd wanted. He'd accused her of wanting the security, but in the early days, there really wasn't any. So why ever pretend? Just for the fun of it? He crawled to his knees on the bed, and reached for the piece of tape. Moisture had loosened it enough that it was no longer tightly sealed, but enough of still held tightly that it yanked painfully at her skin as he ripped it off, and she screamed. He waited until the sound had died, then tugged the handkercheif from her mouth.
"I didn't take it out because I'm done with you," he said. "Maybe I took it out because I want to hear you better when you scream."
"What?" He looked at her in confusion, momentarily distracted from the question he'd intended to ask. "You can't possibly be so messed up that you liked that. I may be blind, but I would have known that."
"Don't you understand?" she said, her voice hoarse. "For sixteen years I betrayed you, and I couldn't even do penance. Every stroke is... is getting what I deserve, finally. I'm finally doing my penance for my sins." She licked her lips again. "I need you to understand. If... if I'd known what it would be like, I would have begged you to hurt me even if you wouldn't let me stay. I'm not here because you're forcing me. I'm not just enduring this. I want it, need it, deserve it." She swallowed, her throat clearly dry. "You want me to suffer. Do you want me to tell you if I'm not?"
"Why?" The question tore from his throat before he even knew he was going to ask it. "Why did you do it, Lexi? Why did you marry me? If you were going to stay with him anyway, why drag someone else into it?"
She looked up at him, her face open and despairing. "Because I loved you. I wanted you. I wanted to spend my live with you, grow old with you, die with you." She hung there, beaten, bruised, tears running down her face. "I still do. You can't see me as your wife anymore? That's fine. I don't deserve to be your wife. I... I never did. I was lying to myself, too. But I can be your slave. I'll be the best slave anyone's ever had. You won't have to worry about what I'm doing, because you'll know, every minute of every day, where I am. If you want, you can buy a pair of cell phones and leave mine going to a recorder, so that you know. I swear to you, I will never allow you to doubt me again. I'll make sure there's no way I could betray you even if I wanted to." Her chest heaved, her breathing ragged, but before he could say anything, she hurried on, "And I won't ask you for anything except... except enough food to live on. If you want to... to date, I'll make the bed and turn it down, and wash the sheets in the morning. I will never tell you no, Rafe. Never. The word will not come out of my mouth. Just let me stay. I love you, even if you don't believe me. Just let me stay, and teach me to be your slave, to be a good slave for you." She looked at him, her eyes hot and burning. "He never had that, Rafe. He had my body, my acquiesence, but he never had my cooperation, not beyond the absolute minimum. And I wasn't his sex slave. I was just a hole to him, just something to stick his... his cock in and get off. I want you to understand that. Everything you do to me, I give to you. You aren't taking it from me. You can't. It's already yours. You said you wanted me to be all yours? Then you have it. He never had this, not ever." Her speech was rushed, the words tumbling over each other. "And nothing you can do to me will change how I feel. Nothing. Bring home a different woman each night and fuck her in front of me, and I'll thank you for showing me my place. Do you believe me? You have to believe me— please tell me you believe me, please, please..."
For a long while, he just stared at her. He believed her. He knew he shouldn't, but he did. He'd never been so confused, felt so lost in his life. He'd told her that if she'd asked for help, he would have given it. Wasn't this asking, in a way? A bizarre, probably messed up way, but still asking. But it was too late, if it had to be forced out of her. It was too late when it went on for years. But why? For the life of him, he couldn't see why she'd done it. And if he couldn't understand that, how could he honestly believe that he understood her at all? She was so beautiful, stretched out like that. Helpless. He could do whatever he wanted. She wouldn't say no.
With a growl he slid off of the bed. He wouldn't let her distract him. He knew the facts. He knew what he needed to know. Anything else she had to say didn't matter. It didn't matter if she was sorry. Not when the pain was there, waiting on him to weaken, to soften the slightest bit. No. Letting her talk was a mistake, a dangerous one. He wouldn't repeat it, and he knew what he needed to do to avoid it. Without a word, he walked out of the room.
He wasn't gone long. It had taken a few minutes to find the soft rubber ball, part of some game Raeka'd played when she was younger, and the small, plain leather belt that didn't fit her anymore. It took only a minute to cut the slice through the center and thread the end of the belt through, and then he had probably the perfect gag. The ball was large enough to fill her mouth, soft enough to insert easily, and the strap would both hold it firmly in place and keep it from being swallowed. The hard leather would cut into her mouth, but maybe that was a bonus. She stirred up too many images when she talked. Images that he couldn't get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried.
The idea, for example, of fucking another woman in front of her was an appealing one on many levels. Revenge, of course, was the most obvious, but there was something intriguingly dirty about it, as well. He'd never pushed her. He had been the one to decide they should wait until after they were married, even though neither of them had been a virgin. He'd known from the beginning that she was different, that he wasn't courting just a lover. She'd teased him about it, and he'd told her that a wife was special, not to be treated like other women, that he didn't need to make love to her to know he loved her, and that, whether she thought it necessary or not, she would have the respect that he'd given to none of his other partners. He'd treated her as gently as the most fragile of virgins on their wedding night, and she'd cried, and he'd kissed away the tears and...
He gritted his teeth and thrust that line of thought from his mind. It hurt too much to consider. But she'd been so beautiful, and every little sigh of pleasure had been a triumph... He groaned, leaning his forehead against the wall. She'd been going to that bastard all along. That was what was important. He hadn't 'rescued' her as he'd more than halfway considered it. She just kept going back to him, anytime he asked. He'd spent hours seducing her... George just had to call her up and say "Let's fuck." It would serve her right if he did pick up some pretty little thing and fuck her brains out in front of her. Then at least she'd know what it was like, what it felt like to have those images forever branded in her head. He should fuck her first, though, so she'd know what women like her should expect. And for contrast. Fuck her mouth hard and come on her face, and leave her kneeling there while he took his time pleasing some sweet, lovely girl in a way that she could never expect to earn again.
By the time he returned to the bedroom, he'd almost decided to do it, almost worked himself up to that point, and his cock was hard in his pants. He kicked the door shut behind him, and it slammed loudly.
She jumped when the door slammed. "Please, please say you believe me, please... you don't know what it was like, how... how horrible it was to lay there while he used me, knowing that you loved me..." She sniffled. "Our first time... it was the first time anyone ever loved me. That's how I got through it, remembering our wedding night... please, please keep me, don't send me away... I'll prove it to you," she said frantically. "Take me back to your office and light the fire and give me a paperclip or your letter opener and I'll prove I mean it, that I'm completely yours, I'll prove it, I promise!"
He didn't answer, just threw the gag on the bed and then crawled onto it himself. He didn't look down at her as he reached into his back pocket and brought out a folding knife, then held one of her wrists as he sliced through the rope. When it was free, he yanked it over, holding it in one hand, pressed against the other wrist as he cut that rope, too, leaving her held up by his hand around her wrists, her legs still tied.
Alexia stared up at him. "Please, please, let me prove it I'm yours I love you please please please..."
He dropped the knife and slapped her. Not as hard as he could have, but hard enough to hurt, and his expression didn't flicker. "That's enough," he said, then yanked her forward across the bed. "You've got better things to do with that mouth than talk." He let go of her hands, then grabbed her hair, yanking her head up with one hand, fumbling with his pants with the other.
He managed the button, then yanked the zipper down, his cock springing out, hard and ready. "Don't talk. Suck," he said, as he shoved her face down.
She'd always been enthusiastic when it came to giving head, but an over-sensitive gag reflex had limited what she could do. He'd never pushed her, trying to be understanding, but this time he fully intended to do so. He was going to fuck her mouth hard.
He never got the chance; if she was normally enthusiastic, tonight she was inspired, forcing her mouth down on his cock. He could feel her gag, and tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn't back off.
His breath hissed through his teeth, and his hand clenched brutally tight in her hair. "Fuck!" The convulsions of her throat felt so fucking good. He shoved his hips, holding her unresisting head tight against him until she started to panic, then drew back just enough to let her breathe. "Take it, slut. Cocksucking little whore. Puta. Take my cock down your throat!" He groaned, totally lost to the lust, and knew he wouldn't last long. When her frantic efforts became just too much, and he knew he was going to come, he pulled out of her mouth. It was a habit, a courtesy he'd always shown her that he realized was ridiculous now the moment he did it, and the realization made him angry, so he yanked her head back, one hand going to his cock, holding it just at her lips. "You're going to drink my cum this time, slut." Just the thought was nearly too much. He'd never been so turned on in his life. "Keep your fucking mouth open and take it all!" he shouted, as the first spurt hit the roof of her mouth.
She didn't fight. Instead, she swallowed as he came, the opening of her throat brushing the tip of his cock, almost too much. It was the most intense orgasm he'd ever had. His cock jerked hard in his hand, again and again, until finally he pulled it, still oozing, from her mouth. Then he smeared the dripping head over her cheeks, leaving her face sticky and wet, covered in cum.
"Thank you," she said, staring up at him. She opened her mouth and slowly, deliberately, licked the cum from her lips.
He shuddered, his dick twitching again, and felt, suddenly, like he was on dangerous ground. He reached behind him for the gag, then pushed it into her open mouth. "You're done talking for tonight," he said huskily, as he buckled it behind her head.
He couldn't face the look in her eyes. It was too much, too intense, too... worshipful for him to be able to deal with right then. Brusquely, he pushed her face down on the bed, then pulled her arms up behind her, wrapping a bit of the severed rope around them and tying her wrists together.
He slid from the bed and walked around behind her, laying a hand on her thigh, just beneath the vivid marks left from earlier. Looking down at the marks... the bruises, the welts, the broken skin... he couldn't help but feel sharp pangs of guilt. That guilt pissed him off, though. Why should he feel guilty? Not only did she deserve it, she'd even asked for it. So why shouldn't he give the bitch what she deserved?
What she deserved... He realized, suddenly, that he'd been running his hand up and down her thigh, caressing it, and yanked it angrily away. She'd always been able to coax him out of being angry with her sweet words and soft skin, but not this time. He hadn't even thought to finish removing his clothes, or put them back on, she'd confused him so. Remembering the feeling of her throat on his cock decided him... too uncomfortable to stuff a half-hard cock back into tight jeans... and he took a moment to undress before reaching for the sack, pulling out the coil of electrical wire, and wrapped the ends around his hand, then cut the resulting loop in two with the knife, leaving two flexible cords dangling from his grip.
He hesitated, looking at the soft, vulnerable skin, then growled, annoyed at the automatic concern. Pushing any such foolishness firmly from his mind, he whipped the wire sideways across those wide-spread thighs, hard, leaving a vivid, raised welt with a line of red in the center where the skin split under the impact.
Alexia screamed, jerking, pulling her legs together... but only for for a moment, and then she forced her legs apart, spreading them widely, exposing her soft cunt lips.
His cock twitched, but then, as he looked at the cunt he'd thought of as his, and thought about how many times that other cock had sunk into it, the rage returned, hot and red, and he stopped thinking entirely. Without even hesitating, he whipped the wires in a whirring arc, aiming the vicious tips right at her tender cunt.
She screamed again, and he could see the blood welling from the cuts in her cunt lips. He snarled, then brought the whiplike strands down across her thighs again, the tips wrapping around and cutting into the fronts of her legs. Then again, up high, across her ass and cunt. The new gag worked better, muffling her screams quite well, though not completely, as he tore at the flesh of her thighs until they were red and raw all over, oozing blood, and her pussy was swollen and slick with blood. Only when the blood welled enough to run down her inner thigh and drip onto the floor did he drop the wire and step up behind her, grabbing her bruised, welted hips, and shove his cock into her sore, swollen cunt as hard as he could.
Her cunt was tight from the beating, but wet and slick with blood, and felt so hot as he shoved into it... He reached up and grabbed her bound wrists, yanking her back against him as hard as he could as he fucked her viciously. Hard, fast, his hips slamming into her sore, bloodied flesh, feeling his thighs grow slick with her blood, just using her cunt, taking it, not caring that it hurt her, wanting it to hurt her. Every muffled scream drove him to fuck her harder, more brutally, and he drove into her with all the force that 255lbs of muscle could manage. And then, the impossible happened. Her moans rose suddenly in pitch, and she came, writhing and then stiffening beneath him, screaming into the gag, her cunt clenching hard around his cock... harder than it ever had, more violently than it ever had, her muscles squeezing and milking his cock, and it went on and on and on... He yelled at the top of his lungs and buried his cock in her, yanking her up by her arms and grabbing her tit with his other hand, his fingers digging savagely into the soft flesh as he filled her cunt with cum.
Finally, he dropped her back onto the bed and pulled out, his cock sliding from her cunt and leaving a wet trail along her thigh. He staggered backwards, collapsing into one of the chairs, and stared at her.
She wriggled, hunching her hips up and scooting back on the bed so that she could pull her knees in, pressing her thighs together, writhing around in an obscene display worthy of any stripper he'd ever seen.
She couldn't get her legs quite close enough together to put pressure on her clit, though, and she whimpered. He stared in disbelief for a moment more, then stood shakily and walked back over. He slid his hand up between her legs, cupping her cunt and laying his fingertips against her swollen clit, and she moaned, pushing back against his fingers, rubbing her clit against him, shuddering as she came again.
He pulled his hand away and walked around to the side of the bed, leaning against the edge as he reached forward and tilted her chin up with his sticky fingers, looking down into her face. Her face was flushed, wet with tears and streaked with half-dried cum, and she stared back at him in shock and wonder. He frowned, his face full of confusion. "You... liked that?"
He let go of her chin, then grabbed the knife and walked around behind her to cut her legs free. He left the chain attached where it was, and her hands tied behind her back, though. Then he turned his back on her and headed into the bathroom.
After a long shower and a lot of thinking, he returned to the bedroom to find her kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed, waiting patiently. He pulled a chair over by the bed and sat down in front of her, his face expressionless. "Stand up," he said softly, and his expression didn't waver as she struggled to her feet, hampered by the chain and her bound arms.
When finally she stood in front of him, he sighed. "Nothing's ever simple, is it? Nothing is straightforward. There are always... complications, eh amante? You weren't meant to enjoy your punishment. It was hard, given what you seemed to be able to make the best of, for me to think of something that I could be sure you wouldn't enjoy. At least, if I wanted you to be sure to live through the experience, it was hard, anyway." He reached for the bag. "But fortunately, I am a resourceful man. Step closer."
His lips firmed. "You are far too proud, my little puta. Do you really think I'm going to allow you to keep that pride? Do you really think you deserve it?" He didn't bother to wait for any response, just reached out and grabbed her breast with one hand, pinching the nipple tight and yanking it out as he reached into the bag and pulled out a nasty looking alligator clip. Without hesitating in the slightest, he fitted the clamp around her nipple and let the metal teeth close, biting hard into the tender flesh.
She jerked back with a scream, then doubled over in pain. He'd expected that, though, so had let go of the clip before she could yank it off. "Straighten up!" he snapped. "Give me your other tit, slut!"
She stood up, slowly, fresh tears streaming down her face. Her eyes were earnest, pleading as she looked at him, but he ignored it as he placed a matching clamp on the other breast and watched impassively as she hunched over, shuddering in pain. "Now, on your knees, bitch," he said, spreading his own legs. "Here."
She dropped to her knees without hesitation, and he reached for the strap of the gag. At the sudden thankful relief in her eyes, he shook his head. "Not a word. I don't want to hear what you have to say right now."
"No. You don't get a chance to cloud things up with your words." He grabbed her hair and shoved her face down toward his lap. "Maybe later, when I'm done with you. If you're a good little slut and show me how much you want it."
She nodded, and opened her mouth, sucking his half-hard cock inside, tears still streaming down her cheeks. He shuddered. "Good girl. That's right, suck it. Show me what a little whore you are... ah god that feels good..." He looked down at her. "I wish there was a mirror in here, so you could see how filthy you look," he whispered. "You have cum all over your face, slut. And dripping out of your cunt. Your wet, slutty cunt. You look like such a dirty little whore..." His cock got harder and harder in her mouth, until it was pressing against the back of her throat.
She didn't slow down, and he could feel her gag, fresh tears running down her face. Her mouth vibrated with every whimper, and when she finally forced his cock into her throat the sensation was incredible. He groaned loudly. "Oh fuck that's good..." He shoved up, fucking her throat with his cock. "That's right, bitch, take it... ooooh fuck... woah. That's enough now." He yanked her head off of him. "I'm not coming in your mouth this time. Get up."
Alexia stood up, whimpering as the movement made the clamps on her nipples shift. He smiled grimly and stood himself, reaching out to flick one of the clips with his fingers.
Gathering the chain in his hand, he pulled her over to the low dresser. There was just barely enough slack to reach, and the chain was tight around her neck when he shoved her forward over it, pressing her clamped breasts into the hard wood.
He pressed down on her bound wrists, shoving her breasts hard against the dresser. "You're going to take it, slut! You're going to take whatever I do to you!" With his other hand, he reached into one of the drawers, pulling out a bottle of massage oil they kept there, and flipped the top, pouring some of it onto his dick and spreading it around before he pressed the head of his cock against her asshole.
"Yes! I know!" she cried. "Please, just let me explain!" She shoved back hard, suddenly, and screamed as the head of his cock slid into her ass.
He groaned, surprised but near mindless with lust, and pushed his cock the rest of the way into her, not giving her time to recover or get used to it. "Don't talk. Your mouth's not for talking. Not now." He pulled back, then thrust again, burying his cock in her ass. "Just take it slut, take it!" He closed his eyes in pleasure. Her ass was so tight, so hot. It felt so good to just shove his cock into her, to just fuck her hard, take her ass... Wild, out of control, primally satisfying in a way he'd never experienced. There was nothing that would stop him at that point.
She pushed back against him, hard, fucking him as much as he was fucking her. His hands gripped her hips, hard. "Fuck... oooh god!" He moaned, hips moving fast, slamming into her again and again, faster and faster. He slid his hands up to her waist, pulling her back hard, and then up higher, up under her breasts, then cupping them, squeezing and tugging at the clamps, biting his lip to keep from coming.
He pulled her up, her entire weight impaling her on his dick, and when she started to come, screaming at the top of her lungs, his hands tightened, yanking the clamps from her nipples as he shot cum into her tight, clenching ass.
She was still screaming when he came down, though from pain or pleasure he couldn't tell. He yanked his cock out of her ass and stepped back, dropping her and letting her fall to her knees, before twisting his hand in her hair and pulling her around to look up at him, her face inches from his dick. "Damn it! How much of a fucking whore are you?!"
He never would have done it if he'd been in his right mind. Never. No matter what she'd done. Not to any woman. But he was far from sane in that moment. Twisting his hand brutally in her hair, he shoved her face down. "Then show me! Suck it! Open your fucking whore mouth and suck it!"
And she did it. Reluctantly, unwillingly, she did it. He could see the revulsion on her face, and her stomach heaved as she fought to control herself... but she did it.
He groaned, a jolt of pleasure so intense it was almost pain shooting through him. He held her there for a moment, then shuddered and pushed her away from him, suddenly feeling sick and shaky. Without saying a word, he went back into the bathroom, washed up, and returned quickly. He walked over to the bed and bent, setting his shoulder against it, and lifted it enough to kick the chain out from beneath the pole before letting it fall with a grunt. "Go on," he said tiredly, untying her arms. "Go on and get cleaned up."
She scrambled to the bathroom, and he could hear her retching for several seconds before the water in the sink started running. After about five minutes, she stepped into the doorway, standing there, cum still on her face and running down her thighs. "Did you want me to shower, or just brush my teeth and use mouthwash?"
He shuddered and closed his eyes, momentarily disgusted with himself as much as her. Disgusted with everything, and achingly tired. "Everything. Go ahead and get clean. Take as long as you need."
She came out after ten minutes, and knelt down by the side of the bed. "May I speak?" she said, softly.
He sighed, then sat up and picked up the chain. "Not now," he said, wrapping it around the pole and using a small key to open the lock to fasten it again, then walking over and tossing the key on the table... in sight, but well out of reach. He drug the fur rug over to the foot of the bed. "Just... go to sleep, Alexia. I can't deal with this anymore tonight."
He'd held her every night. He was used to the feel of her body against his, in taking comfort from that when things went wrong, and now he ached for that feeling, and the longer he looked at her, the stronger the ache grew. Especially since she looked so hurt, so fragile right now. He'd taken care of her for so long, to leave her hurting now went against every instinct. Her sad, pleading eyes were more than he could take. He groaned again, squeezing his eyes closed, and leaned against the edge of the bed. "Talk then."
"You said I was proud," she said. "I'm not. Or at least not the way you meant it. I'm not proud of what I've done, but I'm proud enough not to turn away from what I deserve."
"No," he said softly, "your pride is in thinking you'll still have some control, any control. In thinking you have a choice in facing it. You made your last choice when you decided to stay, and you'll understand what that means soon enough."
She looked up at him. "Not only will I not resist you, Rafe, I'll do my best to help you. If you want me humiliated, I'll figure out the things that would be worst and tell you. If you want me hurt...." She hesitated, wincing. "Um. I don't know if I can help, but I'll try. And if you want me to be a slut...." She flushed. "You already proved I am one, but I'll be the best one that I can. Only...." She looked down, refusing to meet his eyes for the first time. "I guess I don't know how to be a good slut for you. I knew about blow-jobs, and I liked giving them to you, but... I never knew people did that! Not in real life!" Her face burned even brighter. "So you'll have to teach me how. Or... I don't know. Are there books? Maybe I could study them. Or I know there are all sorts of filthy things on the internet, and that's what I should be learning, so maybe one of your techs could fix up a computer so that you could know exactly what I do on it and I could study that?"
He swore quietly under his breath. "Jesus, Lexi..." He stared at her, then just shook his head. "I have to think. This is too much for me to deal with all at once." He reached for the gag and crooked his finger. "Come here."
He ground his teeth together, and said, warningly, "You're pushing it, Alexia. I don't have a lot of control right now. Don't make me hurt you more."
"First... I want you to know that my... my betrayal never had anything to do with any... any lack in you. It was a failure on my part, a flaw in me, not you. You have to understand that. It wasn't that I didn't love you. I did. I still do. I was just... a weak fool.
"When you were... fucking me," she said, her face reddening further as she used the unaccustomed word. "Both times. How did you make me come like that?"
He stared at her. "How did I make you... I didn't do anything to make you come, Alexia," he said coldly, his eyes growing angry again. "In fact, I did just about everything I could think of to keep you from coming. Don't blame your whorish nature on me! Now get over here and open your mouth. I've had enough of your talk tonight."
Confusion tore at him, mixed liberally with the beginnings of guilt. She couldn't act that way without being truly remorseful. She couldn't be that remorseful unless she'd truly hated what she was doing. If she hated it, then why do it? Was she just crazy? Had he punished her brutally for... something she couldn't help? He felt like tearing out his hair in frustrated confusion. He'd known better than to let her talk, damn it! With no further word, he shoved the gag into her mouth and fastened it tightly, then gave her a little push toward the rug. "Go to sleep, Alexia."
He lay down on the bed, folding his arms behind his head, and stared up at the canopy for a long time, worrying things over and over again in his mind, before giving up and getting out of bed and slipping into his pants. He headed for his office, intending to try and get some work done until he could sleep, and noticed her letter, still folded neatly on the desk. With a sigh, he remembered his promise, so took it down the hall to slip beneath his daughter's door.
He headed back to his office, had a small drink, did some rather haphazard work with his stock portfolio that he'd probably regret later, and then headed back to bed, to lay stretched out and staring at the ceiling for an unknown amount of time before finally passing out.