Chapter 5
Sue abruptly came awake; it was as though a switch had been thrown
in her body. She was fully aware of everything ... the moonlight
streaming in through the windows, the fading echoes of the clock
downstairs striking two, the breathing of the man who stood beside the
bed.
Perhaps it was the moonlight that made everything seem as though it
were happening in a dream, that her mind was elsewhere -- confined to
limbo.
"Sue?" Even Dick's voice seemed different, accented.
She turned and looked up at him. In the unreal light he seemed
taller, older than Dick. He looked like someone she knew ... but the
vaporous quality of the moment refused to solidify. "This man is your
husband," a voice in her brain whispered.
"Yes ... Dick."
"Good, you're awake." The covers were pulled back and the figure
slid into bed with her. She felt his body move in next to hers; then
that body was pressing nakedly and urgently against her side. With a
sudden tightening of her muscles and a feeling of despair, Sue realized
Dick had an erection and was probably going to try to make love to her
again. Against her hip, his penis felt different -- considerably
smaller, but hard!
"Are you all right?" she asked, knowing full well what he wanted.
Dick laughed; he sounded so very different, but her mind kept
saying, "This is your husband."
His voice said, "Well, darling. I'm not really all right. I have
this problem which only you can take care of." He moved his penis
suggestively up and down against her side.
"Dick, I don't think I can do it again tonight. I'm much too sore.
It's so painful."
"Then we shall simply have to do it another way, won't we, pet?" He
had taken her chin in his hand and turned her face toward him. His
breath had a vaguely exciting hot brandy smell as his lips kissed her
eyes closed. His hot wet tongue sought out her ear; she stiffened as it
shot into the cavity like a small darting fish seeking shelter. The
sensation, though strange, was definitely erotic. Dick had never kissed
her this way before! Then his tongue was in her mouth, tracing wild
abandoned designs against her teeth and inner folds of her lips. This,
too, was exciting in a way it had never been before. She began
responding eagerly; once, when her tongue hit his upper lip, she
thought: How strange ... Dick has grown a mustache.
"You wonderful creature," he said, just as his hands began moving
all over her body. He went first to the flushed bulbs of her breasts,
and each individual pore of his fingers seemed to be minute vacuums
tugging at her flesh. He tongue-kissed her again, then his lips
fastened -- gently sucking -- at a place where her gracefully sloping
neck muscles joined the top of the shoulder. A tingle of excitement
arched along the muscles. He moved her elbow out from the body and his
mouth moved down until it was licking and kissing the sensitive flesh on
the inner arm and armpit. A moment later, slowly and tantalizingly, his
lips kissed their way to the left breast. She felt him there at her
nipple, like a thirsty person sucking juice from luscious fruit. Not
once, in his gentleness, did he hurt her.
As his teeth teased sensuously at her nipples and his knowing hands
kneaded the flesh of her buttocks, Sue suddenly realized that her body
was reacting ... in a most pleasurable manner. She purred deep in her
throat as his lips moved on to her right breast, then to her right
armpit, and traced an exciting trail of fiery desire down across her rib
cage to her navel. One of his hands left the pleasantly tingling mounds
of flesh on her buttocks and, using the fingertips only, began stroking
the underside of her knee and the soft inner sides of her thigh.
"Ummmm," she purred, as his tongue flickered at her navel. Sue
wasn't exactly sure when his fingertips brushed against her pubic hair,
all she knew for sure was that suddenly he had reached the vagina. She
gave a little gasp of fright and flattened her buttocks down into the
mattress; his hand was trapped, unable to move. He sought to move his
fingers, but her thighs were like a hot flesh vise.
"Sue," he said, "open your legs."
"No ... it hurts."
"Daddy will kiss it to make it better."
What had he said? What did he mean? Kiss it? "Dick?" she began
questioningly, but she had her answer in the next moment, for his tongue
had left the warm cottony cave of her belly button and marched boldly
across the bare plains of her abdomen and into the silken forest of her
sparse young pubic hair.
"Dick?" she groaned again, not certain exactly what he was doing.
In her anxiety, or perhaps it was merely subconscious desire, she eased
the pressure of her thighs and his hand was freed from captivity. She
tensed again as he nuzzled his cheek in the fleece of her pubic mound
and used his thumb and forefinger to slightly separate the soft fleshy
lips of her vagina. Oddly enough, he was so gentle that she hardly felt
his touch, much less pain. She was suffering from apprehension and
indecision, however. Whatever Dick had in mind was something totally
alien to her -- something she had never heard about, never even
suspected. He moved his head down to her thigh and kissed it --
starting once again with that extremely sensitive area behind the knee,
moving upward -- ever upward -- occasionally taking large sucking erotic
bites of the inner thigh flesh into his mouth, and at other times using
his tongue as a stylus to sear flaming trails of desire into her
trembling body.
Then his tongue reached the soft protruding folds of her young
pulsating pussy. She sat upright, forcing his head away. "No, Dick.
No."
"Why not?"
"I hurt there."
"I'll kiss it to make it better," he repeated softly, his voice
droning smoothly like a recording.
"No ... it still hurts." She pulled his head up to breast level.
She felt it necessary to say something -- anything! She took a deep
breath. "Dick, I've never told you this. I don't know why I'm saying
it now. But you must be gentle and understanding with me. My mother
and her mother and all the females on my mother's side for as far back
as we can remember have had something wrong with them. I didn't know
about it until the day before the marriage or I would have told you.
Sexual intercourse is extremely painful ... it hurts. So you must be
gentle and not expect too much out of me." Even as she said it, her mind
was reeling in guilt and she felt like weeping. She had planned to keep
this her secret; and now, for some reason, she was blurting it out.
Maybe, she thought desperately, I'm really looking for help ... maybe
Dick and I working can solve this thing. She was not prepared for his
sudden bark of laughter.
"What absolute rubbish," he said, unkindly.
"I mean it, Dick," she said, pleading for understanding.
"Look, my little pet, I know something -- a great deal -- about
women's problems. What you claim is something that simply is not
organically possible. Psychologically possible, yes! We have a name
for acute painful sexual intercourse. It's called mental vaginismus, or
more plainly, monosymptomatic hysteria. Get that word 'hysteria',
because that's exactly what it is -- a form of nervous hysteria.
"I tell you it hurts; it's excruciating."
"You think it hurts. You've been brain-washed. And I am going to
prove it. Remember, I am your ... husband. Repeat that!"
"You think it hurts. You've been brainwashed." heard the words,
they seemed to come from someone other than herself. She had no will to
resist; her body felt as though it had turned to foam rubber.
"I am your husband and I will not harm you ... You will answer my
questions truthfully."
"I will answer ... your questions truth-fully."
"Sue, have you ever reached a climax -- had an orgasm? Any kind of
orgasm, even from masturbation?"
"No ... I have never masturbated to ... completion. It is self-
abuse ... sinful."
"I thought so. All right, now lie there ... relax ... and let your
body speak to you about how it really feels." He began kissing her
breasts again.
His mouth moved away from her breasts after a moment and began
nibbling at the small fold of flesh right below her navel. He gently
bit a particularly sensitive area where her hip bone and upper thighs
joined. Her body had begun to purr again. Then his hot hungry mouth
spread the soft fleecy pubic hair and fastened over the fleshy opening
of the vaginal tunnel leading to her womb. A sudden jolt of pure
feeling arched through her loins as he began noisily sucking the vaginal
lips; it was a gentle vacuum, tugging and caressing the nerve ends.
"Aahhhh," she crooned softly.
"Ahhhh!" she repeated, this time loudly, as his tongue began
licking the entire length of her open cuntal slit -- running from anus
to clitoris.
"Ahhh ... oooooh," she gasped, as first his lips and then his teeth
found the hard little clitoris. She strained her hips up to his mouth,
arching her back and planting her feet in the mattress in an effort to
rise and meet him.
"AAHHH ... AHEEEEE!" she screamed, as his hot quivering tongue went
boldly into the tunnel of her cunt, moving in and out as though it were
a small sure penis. She was aware that her breath was coming raggedly
from her taut lips, that she had reached down to his head -- not to push
him away, but to keep him there ... forever! Some shrill hysterical
voice -- which sounded somewhat like a tinny hollow echo of mother's --
was screaming in the nethermost regions of her mind that this was
wicked, perverted, that it was painful! The gratifying, wonderful
sensations in her snatch pushed that shrill voice back, back, back until
it was obliterated by another scream; this scream was one of passion
boiling out of her lips, out of her soul.
Oh, how his tongue and lips and teeth all worked together in a
fully orchestrated symphony of pure feeling! She could feel things
happening down there -- wild, uninhibited, beautiful things ... of nerve
endings singing and screaming in delight, of muscles flexing and
unflexing in joy, of flesh and bone and pores all in harmony. She was
revolving her hips in a grinding, circular motion against his
avaricious, indomitable mouth.
"Don't stop, Dick. Oh, God ... don't stop, darling!" she panted,
for now something else was happening down there. Everything was rubbing
against each other -- like nylon and wool -- throwing off sparks which
were igniting the ganglions. She had never thought she would feel this;
she thought she was incapable of it. And then, as though a miracle, she
was cumming! She could tell because body and soul were separating.
"Uh ... uhhh? Ahhh ... ah ... ah ... ah?" It was a question, a
plea! She raised her buttocks clear up from the mattress and, as she
did so, his tongue left her vagina and his teeth and lips clamped hard
on her gently pulsating clitoris. She screamed, and she knew she was
screaming loudly. "Go on ... Go on. Go!" Now, like desert mirages in
midday's heat, her womb began to dissolve -- shimmering into
incandescent nothingness. Her insides had become roaring cataracts
racing and dancing toward the sea ... and their white waters bubbled,
raged, boiled, and spurted from her cunt -- like torrents from a broken
dam -- as she screamed again, "I'm cumming!" There was nothing in the
universe but that one great pit and pendulum of sensation and release.
Her ears heard not, her eyes saw not, her mind thought not. Only the
cunt was there -- the almighty cunt! -- stronger than all her other
organs put together, and it screamed out a song of ecstasy that would
not be denied. That sweet, intolerable delight stayed with her for ten
million eternities, and during it all she lay gasping, and thrashing
that only sentiment thing in her body against his voraciously hungry
lips.
It finally ended. Not with a bang, but like the slow fading of
summer's first sunset. She felt him kiss the warm flooded area between
her thighs once more then his mouth moved back to her hips. She could
feel her cum cool and damp on her thighs and buttocks. Then he used his
free hand to turn her on her side. He kissed the right buttock, then
continued to press her over until she was lying face down. Sue didn't
resist; her will power had been completely vapourized by the velvet
explosion that had only moments ago torn her still quivering belly
asunder.
Sensation was slow to return, but when it did, she was aware that
he was reverently kissing her smooth, oval buttocks. Occasionally, he
would desist to lick a teasingly sensitive spot at the base of her
spine, but he always came back to the soft rounded mounds of flesh to
kiss and gently nibble. A warm glow began to spread throughout her anal
area as new and recharged blood pounded through the revitalized muscle
paths, arteries and capillaries.
She heard him mutter as though he were an art connoisseur, "Such
untouched beauty ... such a sweet, young little ass ... so supple, so
soft and warm, so charmingly shaped and virginal."
Now he gradually began to change his activity there. He
interspersed his kisses with occasional sharp little bites. They
weren't painful -- not too painful. They were, she had to admit, rather
exciting. Sue sensed he was getting ready to do something different
again, and she mentally told herself that no matter what he did it would
be heavenly if it were even only half as delightful as the thing he had
just done. Nothing, though, bad prepared her for what came next. His
kisses, his rabbitlike nibbling, became more urgent. Suddenly, he
pushed her legs apart and then knelt behind her. She felt him use his
thumbs to spread her soft yielding buttocks wide apart and then ... his
tongue was moving again, now licking the inner crevice that joined her
vaginal slit below.
Once she had recovered from her momentary flush of embarrassment,
she thought that it was an odd sensation. Not displeasing, not really
pleasurable or erotic ... "strange" was the word. His hot, wet,
trembling tongue moved the length of her anal crevice; she felt the
first stirrings of excitement when it lingered over the base of her
spine again. Then he backed off and down. "Dick," she gasped, as she
felt his tongue tip quiver against and then wetly worm its way into her
tiny puckered anus. A forbidden, wicked pleasure shot through her
loins. "You mustn't," she groaned, "it's not right."
Now he pulled his mouth away. "Anything is right between a man and
a woman -- so long as it gives pleasure and not offense. And I know
you're having pleasure ... you're a natural for this. Believe me, I can
tell."
"But ... but ..."
He laughed. "But is right. You have a delightful little 'butt'.
And I'm going to make love to you there. I'm going to fuck you there,
Sue."
"Oh no, darling, you can't," she protested.
"Pray tell why not?"
"It isn't right, darling it just isn't right," she moaned down into
the pillow.
He repeated, "Anything is right between a husband and wife," Then
he lowered his head again. She felt his hands beneath her hips pulling
her belly up off the mattress. She wasn't kneeling exactly, but her
smooth rounded buttocks waved up in the air like an ostrich's. She felt
foolish in that position; she felt obscenely naked with her unprotected
behind upturned that way. But, still, he was her husband ... and he
wouldn't hurt her?
She felt his tongue leave her anus, to be replaced by a finger that
probed as if it, too, wanted to enter the tight forbidden passageway and
she immediately tensed. Then suddenly, he reached up, grabbed a pillow,
and slipped it beneath her stomach to keep her from failing flat again.
At the same time, the finger back there had begun a gentle little sawing
movement against her tightly puckered anal ring. Now he was pressing in
tighter, tighter. She winced and groaned, trying to push her belly down
into a pillow and abruptly the fingernail portion of the digit was
inside her. She was rather surprised. Somehow she had thought it would
hurt, but it didn't. It was, if she were honest with herself, sort of
pleasant ... as long as she relaxed and didn't fight it.
Now he was sawing continuously -- nothing abrupt -- always gentle,
but always pressing in a bit deeper. She moved her hips experimentally,
then discovered the best movement was one using the leg and belly
muscles to raise her buttocks back.
"That's a good girl," he said soothingly. "Such a good girl, with
such a fine little asshole. You'll need next to no instruction. Pure
instinct, I wager."
"Dick, you mustn't talk like that," she protested through her soft
mewls of pleasure. Her protest was rewarded by laughter from him.
Finally the finger was in all the way up to the knuckle and his
palm was pressing tightly against the cheeks of her buttocks as he began
to make tiny circular motions inside with his finger -- almost as if he
wanted to expand the opening. A moment later, the first finger
withdrew. She wanted to pass wind, but held back -- much too
embarrassed. When the finger returned, it seemed much thicker. Then
she realized he was using two fingers. "That hurts," she whimpered
slightly, knowing it was a lie but feeling she had to protest anyway.
"Be calm, my love. It can't hurt very much ... you'll be fine in a
second."
Actually, she thought, it really wasn't painful ... but she knew
she was being stretched there. She supposed that his two fingers,
however, were less in diameter than her evacuations; she remembered as a
child having wondered how something so large could come from such a tiny
opening.
The two fingers were sawing in concert now. She wiggled her
buttocks in the air and she felt her muscles, deep in her belly, milk at
the finger. This brought delighted laughter from her husband.
"Wait," he said, "until I get in there ... then do it all you
want." He took a deep breath, "I knew you were a natural."
Sue's thoughts were jumbled. She knew instinctively that this
wasn't right. Yet, at the same time, it was mysteriously exciting. She
felt subjugated, completely at the mercy of her husband. She blushed
deeply when the pressures became so intense that she farted loudly. The
sound was rewarded by a laugh and a hard bite on her right buttocks.
His two fingers made circular motions in her rectum; it was being
stretched ... stretched ... stretched. Now she began to feel a
compelling urge to have his fingers in there deeper. She pushed back
against them, groaning slightly once as she felt his fingernail hang up
against a fold of membrane, and tossed her head abandonedly from side to
side in rhythm with his finger fucking motions in her rectum.
Then suddenly he withdrew his fingers. She could feel the rubbery
elasticlike ring of her asshole clinging to them -- reluctant to let
them go. And then, out they came with a wet hissing noise like that of
a deflating balloon.
She turned her head, disappointed, to find out why he had stopped.
He was stroking his penis, and she could see the thick white foreskin
moving back and forth over the instrument's head. Then he was between
her legs. His hands reached beneath her and cupped her thighs --
holding them tightly. She felt him move forward until his penis was
pressing against the puckered brown aperture. She suddenly realized
that his prick was considerably larger than just two fingers; she
wouldn't be able to take it. He should be able to see that! Still, the
pressure continued, the prick moving gently, always gently, gradually
insinuating its way through the tiny tight opening stretching it wider
and wider until finally the head of it was completely in. She was
pleasantly surprised, even proud of herself; it hadn't hurt very much at
all.
"Try to shit or fart," her husband said.
"Dick!" It was a shock to hear him use language like that.
"Try ... it'll go in easier."
Sue pressed down with her abdominal muscles and was relieved to
discover that part of the pressure had been removed. It was fine ...
just fine.
She felt him begin to move in deeper, and all of a sudden -- at
about the two inch mark -- he began to hurt her, terribly. She tried to
push forward into the pillow, but his hands held her thighs captive.
"That hurts," she winced, meaning it this time. "It's hurting
horribly!"
He paid no attention to her ... just continued his inexorable
pressure inward.
Now there was genuine pain in the pit of her stomach. Not vaginal
pain, but pain from her protesting bowels as the fleshy reaming rod
moved deeper and deeper against the normal flow of traffic in the
rectum. "It's too big," she whimpered. "Please stop! Oh God, darling,
please stop!"
Escape was impossible. She was impaled there like a captured
blonde butterfly. He was using her body like a wheelbarrow, his hands
holding her thighs, his legs keeping her legs well separated.
"Raise up," he ordered.
It was so painful that she would gladly obey any order, just to
relieve the pain. She raised her buttocks a bit, and the prick slid
smoothly and deeper into her rectum. It moved quickly until suddenly
she felt his pubic hair slap hard against her ass.
"Gaaaggh," she groaned. God, how it hurts! It was simply
impossible to think. The pain was even more intense because now she was
feeling degraded, abused. The excitement she had felt with his fingers
in there had gone -- being ripped away by the reality and overpowering
presence of that hot, pulsating log lodged in her rectum.
He began moving in and out like a well-oiled piston. Her asshole
made gasping, sucking noises with each movement. "Oh ... hhh," she
gasped with each new thrust inward.
He stopped for a moment, and Sue realized he was panting in
delight. He asked, "Do you remember what you did a moment ago with your
belly muscles? I want you to do it again."
"I don't ... know ... what you ... mean," she gasped through pain
contorted lips, not really remembering.
"Imagine you are standing with your legs spread wide apart.
Imagine you have a string attached to your navel; at the end of that
string is an apple. Without moving your feet, lift the string. Lift
your navel and pull the apple off the ground."
Sue concentrated for a moment, then inhaled deeply and at the same
time tightened and lifted her stomach muscles.
"Ahhhh ... God!" he shouted, his voice gurgling with glee. "Again.
Ahhhhh ... Oh, God! Again ... and again! Keep doing it, baby."
Each time she lifted the imaginary apple, she was rewarded with a
joyous shout and a deeper thrust into her clenching anal passage. He
sawed in and out of her asshole -- rhythmically -- plunging deep into
those softer, darker areas of her being which she had never known
existed.
Sue had begun to feel a change in her rectum, and this was
accomplished by a change in her attitude. She wanted to please her
husband. She still felt degraded and helpless, but the mere
hopelessness of her position made it all acceptable. She was beginning
to experience some masochistic enjoyment from those thrusts, and she
knew instinctively that she could enjoy them even more by rearing back
to meet his thrusts. She began doing so, and was pleased by his low
pitched moan of responding pleasure.
She moved her firm white buttocks in tiny little circles -- weaving
it in the air like a balloon on the end of its tether. She pulled up
imaginary apples by the dozens; she pressed down as though she hadn't
shit in a year. His yelps of contagious enjoyment encouraged her.
Gradually, she began feeling a weird glow illuminating her inner bowels.
It wasn't possible, she thought. Not this way ... not this way! Can
woman reach a climax this way too? Nerve ends were beginning to
telegraph messages, and muscles were beginning to vibrate like steel
rails precursing the train.
After a moment's experimentation, she discovered her rectal passage
could be tightened two or three times at the apogee of each outward
stroke -- bringing greater pleasure to her and deeper groans of
happiness from him. With the perigee of his inward thrust, she flexed
her deepest anal muscle against the head of his cock. "God!" was all he
said. She suddenly realized, as she tossed her head wantonly from side
to side that she was enjoying this cruel debasement. She also realized,
with a rapid catch of breath, that she could cum like this if she worked
at it ... concentrated on it.
Now, breathing stentoriously, her husband pulled the hot throbbing
cock all the way out to the glans, then shoved it desperately in as a
prelude to the final act and curtain.
"Ahhhh," she moaned, and there was no longer any pain in her voice,
only encouragement and lust.
Now, with long hard unending thrusts, he began to batter her
quivering buttocks. He gasped like a man who had run the thousand-metre
race. She was being skewered like a wounded carcass, split right down
the middle. And she didn't care. She didn't care! She became aware of
a velvet feeling throughout the pit of her stomach. Once again she
thought: Could it be? Could it really be?
"Eeee ... aaahhh ..." He was making noises like a rusty door
creaking open.
"Ahhh ... ahhhh," she returned, attempting to say, "deeper, deeper,
harder, harder," but unable to put the words into speech. She was
astonished, hopeful ... pleased.
Her head was tossing back and forth uncontrollably now as the two
bodies moved like suddenly insane puppets released from their master's
strings.
He murmured incoherently as his hands finally let go of her thighs,
and she felt his fingernails cruelly bite into the folds of skin in
front of her hipbones as he sought new purchase. It hurt her. It hurt
her! And she wanted to be hurt!
Then she felt the one last mighty thrust which drove the swollen
rod up to the furthest point it had been; she made her muscles up there
grab hold of it and milk it. The prick spurted, then began twitching as
he came deep, deep in the rectum, giving her a love enema. He cried
out, and his strangled voice was the thing that triggered her own
explosion ... it was a different feeling than before ... much different,
deeper, a different set of muscles, nerves, and bones crying out their
happy defiance to normality. "Ahhh ... aieeeee!" she screamed, and
above her own shouts, she could hear his, "Beautiful ... wonderful ...
aaaahhhh." He smartly whacked at her blushing buttocks with his open
hand as though he were encouraging a race horse on to greater effort.
Some time later, as she lay there feeling the velvet and warm satin
of her glands and nerves, she seemed to hear the far-off sound of a
stranger's voice saying, "You have been dreaming ... dreaming. You will
awaken tomorrow; it will have been a dream ... about your husband.
Tomorrow night, you will awaken at the same time and your husband will
be your husband. Tonight was only a dream. Repeat please."
Her voice, from beyond the furthermost part of the galaxy,
answered, "It was a dream. Tomorrow night I will awaken ..."
And once, just before oblivion came to her, she thought she heard
the satanic snicker of a triumphant male voice and a pair of hot lips
reverently kissing her buttocks.
But, of course, it was all part of the dream ... it had to be a
dream ... and deep in her mind and heart, she knew and felt
disappointment that it had been just a dream ...
