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9
Simon's client did arrive the following day. Simon called her at the house to tell her that they would be at the apartment that afternoon. "I will call you before we leave," he said. "You will be there, won't you, darling?" he added.
There was a choking sensation in her throat. She swallowed hard. "Yes, Simon," she replied.
"As you were yesterday?" he persisted.
Damn him. He knew the answer. What was he doing, rubbing it in? Showing her--again--that he could control her, that she would be what he called a good wife, no matter how difficult he made it for her? No matter what she had to do to keep him. And he was obviously right. She still couldn't fight her love for him, her need for him, in spite of everything. Just his voice on the phone was thrilling to her, even though what he was saying almost made her ill.
"Yes, Simon," she said.
.
She took a taxi to the apartment. At first she had wondered what she should wear, until she had realized that it didn't matter. Simon's client would probably never see her dressed. On the way there she told herself again that she didn't have to do this. Didn't have to do any of it. She could leave right now, tell the driver to take her to the airport, go away somewhere, start over. No more shame, no more pain, no more degrading humiliation. Find somebody else and lead a normal life.
Without Simon.
At the apartment she took off all her clothes and proceeded to chain herself up as she had the day before. She was still somewhat sore and stiff from that ordeal, which made it even more difficult. But she did it. And then she waited.
And, through the pain, she remembered. Remembered the first time. Remembered all of it.
Until the door opened, and Simon said, "Richard, I'd like you to meet my wife."
* * *
"Holy shit!" Richard gasped out. He seemed to be frozen there as he took in the sight of the naked, tautly stretched woman. After a long moment he turned his gaze to Simon, his eyes still popping. "This--this is your wife?" he choked out.
"Yes, it is," Simon replied. "Elaine, this is Mr. Barns, a business associate of mine. Say hello to him."
"Hello, Mr. Barnes," Elaine said. Her voice was unsteady but clear. Barnes didn't answer. He was staring at her again.
"Attractive, isn't she?" Simon said. "Especially that way. I do hope you approve, Richard."
"Jesus Christ!" Barns choked out. "I didn't--I mean, you said a girl--a girl who would--who I could--"
"Who would do anything you want. Yes. And here she is. Would you like me to take her down for you, or would you like to play with her for a while as she is?"
"I--Play with her?"
"Or whatever," Simon said.
.
"I can't believe this!" Richard said again. He was breathing rather rapidly, and there was a noticeable bulge at the front of his trousers. "My god, look at her! How could--did you put her up like this?"
"Oh, no," Simon replied. "Elaine has learned to do it herself. She's very obliging. As you will find out, Richard, if you put her to the test."
"And I--I can--" He reached out a hand toward the taut, straining body, not quite touching it.
"Yes, Richard. You can do anything you want. Within certain limitations, of course. I wouldn't want you to kill her, or to inflict any really permanent damage. That would be unfortunate. She is, after all, my wife, and I wouldn't want to lose her." He stepped up beside Richard and reached out to caress Elaine's face, gently pushing a strand of hair back over her shoulder. "I do love her, you see," he said, looking into Elaine's eyes. "And she loves me. Don't you, darling?"
"Yes, Simon," she said breathlessly. And she did. She knew that he could see that in her eyes. Behind the pain, and the strain, and the fear. He had to see it.
"Of course," he said, stepping back again. "Which is why, as I say, she will do anything you wish, Richard. Isn't that so, Elaine?"
"Yes, Simon," Elaine whispered.
"Tell him," Simon said. "Tell Mr. Barnes that you will do anything he wants. And that he can do anything he wants to you. Tell him, darling."
Elaine swallowed visibly. She turned her head to look at her husband's friend. Her voice was low, and trembled slightly, but again it was clear. "I will do anything you want, Mr. Barnes," she said. "And you can do anything you want to me."
"There you are, Richard," Simon said. "She's all yours now."
Richard licked his dry lips. Once more his eyes moved up and down over the naked, straining, helpless body in front of him. Then he reached out a slow, slightly trembling hand, and placed it over Elaine's left breast. He cupped the smooth, taut mound, rubbing it slightly. A small gasp came from his mouth. And he brought his other hand up to her right breast, holding them both, squeezing them gently. "Oh my god," he whispered.
Then he took hold of her nipples, holding them both between thumb and forefinger, and suddenly squeezed as hard as he could, at the same time twisting them sharply.
Elaine screamed.
Simon smiled.
.
Richard Barnes, although he obviously took delight in hurting her, did not have a lot of imagination. He seemed obsessed with her breasts, pulling and twisting the nipples, then biting them as hard as he could, until it seemed he would chew them off. The agonizing torment made her scream again and again, much as she tried not to, and made her tortured, straining body twist and writhe sharply within its limited capacity, which only added to her suffering. Simon stood to one side, watching, his eyes glowing softly. Through her pain she loved him and hated him, but though the hate was real, it could not stand up to the love. She tried to keep herself from acknowledging that love as she tried to steel herself against reacting to the pain, and just as unsuccessfully.
After tormenting her nipples for some time, Barnes took a step back and began to slap at her breasts, whipping his hand across them as hard as he could, first forward, then back, again and again. Then he used both hands, striking each of her breasts alternately. He was breathing heavily by now, and perspiring, but the blows didn't stop. Elaine couldn't scream any more, but her gasps and sobs and forced cries of agony echoed through the room.
Barnes stopped only when his arms got too tired to continue. He was panting strenously and his face was twisted with lust. "I want to fuck her ass," he gasped out.
Simon only nodded. "Do you want me to take her down for you?"
"No. I want her this way. Christ." Barnes walked around to stand behind her. Through his labored breathing, and hers, Elaine heard the sound of his zipper as he pulled it down. Other than that, he didn't bother to undress. She felt his hands on her buttocks, pulling them apart. Then he was there, prodding at her, finding, pushing into her. His penis felt damp, but other than that there was no lubrication. His hands moved around and slid up to clamp her breasts hard, and when he thrust up into her anus with all his force, Elaine found that she was able to scream again after all.
The agony now was excruciating, both in her searingly violated rectum and in her manacled wrists and ankles as he lunged again and again against her helplessly stretched-out body. Not to mention her previously tortured breasts, which he held on to as tightly as he could, using them for leverage as he slammed himself into her. Elaine thought she might pass out, but the the sharp stabbing anguish of his repeated thrusts prevented that. Somewhere in the depths of her mind she wondered vaguely if she might go insane.
Then Simon was standing in front of her, smiling into her eyes. HIs own eyes were shining. "Darling Elaine," he murmured. "Sweet baby. Hurting so much, aren't you, darling? Hurting for me."
Then he kissed her, his lips seeking and finding her moaning, gasping, open mouth, his tongue moving into it. And when the terrible ripping pain of Barnes's battering body caused her to jerk her head away and cry out in torment, he took hold of her hair with both hands and, pulling her lips back to his, used it to hold her in place, kissing her harder as she moaned and sobbed and panted into his mouth.
When he let her go at last, it was to step back and undress himself. His penis was ragingly erect. Reflexively, she shook her head, but even through her fear and agony and horror something inside her was rejoicing. He wanted her, he still wanted her, needed her. Even if it was her submission that excited him, her pain that he would be fucking, it was her, his wife, that he loved.
But she screamed again when he took her, and she continued to cry out her suffering as two men now battered away at her helpless, hanging, horribly stretched body, establishing a contrapuntal rhythm between them and fucking her hard, Barnes's hands still squeezing her breasts, Simon clutching at her hair and kissing her open, squalling mouth again and again.
Kissing her agony.
Fucking her pain.
Making love to her submission, to his possession of her body. And her mind, and her soul.
That was what he loved.
But that was what she was now.
That was all she was.
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