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Retribution

By: Ahabscribe



Here's a story that's been kicking around in my head for many years and finally decided it had to be written. I'm not sure what to make of it other than my reoccurring oedipal issues are back...lol.

I look forward to hearing your comments and criticisms, both positive and negative. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters exist only within the confines of my imagination. Enjoy!

*

Maybe it's my Irish blood that makes me an optimist -- that helps me believe that no matter how bad things can get, there is always hope for a better day. I'm sure my Da would disagree. He was always a dark soul -- morose and brooding and wishing he could return to the "Old Country" one more time. With his dying breath, he was grousing and complaining about the raw deal that life dealt him.

Maybe that's why I married, Jimmy Halloran. He was the exact opposite of my father -- a happy go lucky charmer and an up and coming police officer in the small city I grew up in on the Northeast Atlantic coast. He was always smiling and laughing and his brilliant blue eyes and easy smile literally charmed me out of my panties and off my feet. Alas, Jimmy was no great lover -- I enjoyed the sex, but I always felt it was missing something and my orgasms were far and few between -- not that I ever let him know. I made him think he was the finest lover in the world. In my optimism, I always thought he would get better at it.

I remained an optimist even when the marriage went sour. My Jimmy lost interest in me sexually after I gave him his long desired son, the apple of my eye, James. I think Jimmy had mother issues and gradually could not bear to be with me sexually after I gave birth and became a mother. In the end, when he was with me, he was completely impotent. He blamed it on me of course. I wasn't woman enough anymore -- I'd let myself go, were his accusations. I'd stand naked in front of my bedroom mirror and know that that charge was a bald lie!

I'm not an immodest person, but I know that I am a good looking woman that got as many longing glances from a man when I was thirty-five as I did when I was twenty! My bright red hair betrays my Irish heritage, red as a fire truck and hanging down in wavy tresses past my shoulders -- a thick mane of red hair and my best feature. My face is pleasant enough, with brown-green eyes and pale skin and a wee, button nose. I've got a luscious figure that would tries to run to fat, but with lots of work and a hard life, I've kept the same twenty-six inch waist I had before I gave birth to my James. I am amply endowed in the tit department -- with my heavy, teardrop shaped 38D breasts being what attracted my husband to me in the first place! I stand five foot, nine inches and I'm not ashamed of my legs, although Jimmy forbade me to wear a hemline above the knee.

All in all, I'm a fine looking woman most of the time. Of course, as things went bad between Jimmy and me, there were times I dare not leave the house for fear of someone seeing just how rough Jimmy treated me. Jimmy changed. His happy go lucky attitude vanished to be replaced by something angry and hard bitten. Maybe it was the job -- I've no illusions about police work -- Da was a beat cop for thirty years and many's the night I sneaked out of bed and heard him pouring his pain out to my mother. What I didn't know then was how bad a cop Jimmy had become...but that's getting ahead of myself.

Maybe it was me -- that having given him a son and now being a mother, he couldn't bring himself to fuck me and he could never ask for a divorce and that in the end he was disappointed by James, a quiet and sensitive boy who was totally uninterested in his father's obsessions with football and boxing. Jimmy declared his feelings often, "The better part of you, boy, ran down your mother's leg!" The gulf between Jimmy and James widened over the years as James realized what his father was doing to me and resented it. Whatever it was that created Jimmy's anguish and anger, it provoked in him a terrible hatred and when the hate grew too strong and he was liquored up, well -- I wore a lot of sunglasses and long sleeve shirts and stayed indoors for days or weeks at a time.

By the time, James turned ten things seemed to grow worse with each passing day. Jimmy would stay away for days, even weeks at a time and then show up drunk and pissed and oh, Jesus, how he could make me hurt! One would think I'd relish his absence, but James and I lived in constant fear when he was gone of finally hearing his footsteps on the porch, the creaking of the front door opening and what he'd be angry about this time. I found no solace in the Church -- my priest admonishing me to "Be a better wife to the man, Charlene! He deserves that much doing the job he does." 

I pressed charges once, after a brutal beating landing me in the emergency room with three cracked ribs, a sprained wrist and a bruised kidney. For one fleeting moment, I thought I might be free of the man -- but that was the day I learned of the "thin blue line" where the police force protected their own. All that came of that was Jimmy getting a stern reprimand from his precinct commander about minding his personal life with more discretion and Jimmy teaching me that there is lots of ways to inflict terrible pain without leaving marks...at least those that could show. They say the police are better about dealing with spousal abuse these days -- I hope so.

Still, I believed that someday, somehow, things could and would change for the better. James was fifteen when I first thought this happened. Jimmy was off duty and sitting in his favorite bar when one side of his face began to sag and he fell off his stool with a massive stroke. The doctors told me he would never completely recover -- that he was likely remain paralyzed completely on one side, bedridden for life. Despite all the beatings, it broke my heart to see him so and I accepted my new role as his caretaker, one I would have worked at to my grave, but my troubles were just beginning.

Three months after Jimmy's stroke, the city prosecutor announced the findings of a police corruption probe and at the heart of it was a small cabal of cops including my Jimmy. He had been neck deep in drugs, gambling and protection scams. He lost his pension/disability and his insurance. We lost our house and our car to something called the RICO statutes. Then it was revealed that Jimmy was also involved in prostitution, running a small string of women out of a sleazy apartment in the worst part of the city.

To add to my humiliation, it was to this apartment that Jimmy had leased for a year in advance where we were forced to retreat to when they seized our home. Can you imagine how it felt to clean that pit up? It was a miserably small one bedroom walk-up apartment on the fourth floor of an apartment building that we shared with drug dealers, hookers, and more roaches and rats than I ever dreamed could exist.

It was a crowded existence too. We had Jimmy in a hospital bed situated in the living room and I would sleep on the couch while James slept on a small bed in the one small bedroom. James and I learned to co-exist within the crowded place and of all the things I think I missed the most -- it was having my own bathroom.

Medical bills drained what little savings we had left and we barely managed to scrape by. Jimmy needed around the clock care that we could not afford once his pension and insurance were lost and I couldn't leave him to take a job to make ends meet. Thank the Lord Jesus for my son, James.

My sweet darling son, James -- as good and smart and brave boy as ever lived. He bore the shame and hardship stoically, never speaking a word of complaint, never crying or whimpering. Even when he had to leave his good school and dear friends behind and move into another world of slums and poverty with a joke of a school, he was there for me, helping me deal with it all. And as we faced total and complete poverty, without a word, my sixteen year old son became the man of the house and went out and found a job. He stayed in school -- knowing I could never bear it if he dropped out, but at four in the afternoon, he rode a bus down to a local textile mill and using a fake ID, got himself hired out as a common worker on the second work shift.

I honestly don't know how he did it, but he did. James was a student by day and a factory worker by night, coming home to sleep for a few hours and then do it again. On Friday nights, he'd bring his check home and drop it on the kitchen table. Saturdays and Sundays, he found pick-up jobs to do to bring in much needed cash. And we needed the money. Jimmy was anathema to the city and any hopes from aid and relief agencies were dashed at every turn. When the system turns it back deliberately on you, there is no hope from that end. We barely had enough to pay the rent, buy Jimmy's medicine and eat, but somehow we did it.

One might think at least with Jimmy being incapacitated, at least there was relief in one sense, but, now we had Jimmy with us 24/7 and his anger was still there, still palpable in his presence. His face was locked into a perpetual sneer and hatred blazed in his eyes. His ability to speak was almost gone, but he could make noises that we quickly were able to interpret as anger or annoyance and I swear upon my soul, a vindictive and self satisfied expression at us being trapped with him in this life.

Feeding him, cleaning his messes, showing him every kindness, it all seemed to enrage him further. He was like a cancer in our lives, slowly eating away our spirit. Over the next two years, my eternal optimism began to fade, especially as I watched my son sacrifice his youth for our well being. It broke my heart to see him come in night after night, exhausted and dirty and yet find the strength to smile at me, kiss my cheek and whisper, "I love you, Mom," before collapsing into bed.

Jimmy slowly got worse -- another major stroke rendering him completely incapacitated. His mind was intact and full of the hate that was so evident in his eyes as he angrily glared at me all the time. Still, I persevered and tried to hope for a better life. All that sustained me was the love I had for my son and the love I knew he felt for me. The world might kick us down, but we clung to each other as we struggled to rise back up.

Things changed one Friday night in May, shortly after James turned eighteen. It had been a long day. Jimmy had discovered he could still spit and had spent most of the day amusing himself by trying to spit at me while I fed him or to let it drool from his mouth so I had to clean it up again and again. It was after midnight and having finally seen Jimmy off to sleep, I had changed into my ratty old nightgown when James came through the door, carefully and quietly setting his lunch pail down at the small table in the kitchenette. Not sparing his father more than a cursory glance, James made his way to me and gave me a quick hug and a kiss and whispered, "How are you, Mom?"

I gave him a weary smile and shrugged my shoulders as I replied, "I'm fine, sweetie -- he was the usual."

James nodded, he understood. He tried to give me an equally weary smile, but it only flickered across his lips before disappearing. His eyes stared into mine for a moment, glanced downward quickly and then back to meet mine -- his eyes seeming to be so much older than a young man should be. I stiffened suddenly as I realized his downward glance was at my chest and I blushed as I realized that my gown was gaping open and my tall son could look down at my exposed braless breasts. I quickly moved to pull the nightgown closed and whispered, "Sorry, James," in an embarrassed tone.

My son sighed and nodded. "It's okay, Mom." He started to say something, but stopped and said, "I'm whupped, Mom -- I'm gonna rack out." 

As he passed me, I reached out and touched his arm. "Son, are you -- is everything alright?" My fingers closed and not for the first time was I surprised at how muscular he was -- his arms were well defined -- not simply the well toned muscle of youth, but the hard muscle of a working man. I felt him shiver slightly.

"I'm fine, Mom -- just a long night at work. All I need is a good night's sleep."

He leaned over and kissed me on the forehead and whispered, "I love you, Mom." and slipped off to his room, pulling the door shut behind him. My heart ached for my son and I felt so helpless to ease his weariness and pain. I went about finishing getting ready for bed.

I was about to turn out the light when I heard a commotion outside down in the street. From my window, I couldn't see anything and I moved to James's bedroom door and knocked quietly. "James, is everything all right?" I said as I opened up the door. My son was sitting in the window, his room dark. From the dim light from outside, I could tell he was wearing only his boxer shorts. Even though he was partially in shadow, I could see how my son was indeed a man -- a well muscled man. I confess my heart beat a little faster and why not. James was handsome and I was still a relatively young woman of forty-three and it's only reasonable to have a slight physical response to a beautiful, barely clad man...even if it was my son.

"James, what's going on?" I said softly as I crossed the room coming to stand by his side. "Who's making all that ruckus?" 

I peered over his shoulder and saw three young couples dancing and laughing their way down the street -- the young men in tuxedos and the ladies in long formal dresses complete with corsages. The answer hit me like a blow to the stomach even before James could get the words, "It's Prom night," past his lips.

Now I thought I knew what was bothering James and I felt the guilt flood over me. I'd been so focused on dealing with my husband I'd forgotten all about what should have been one of the most special nights for my son before he finished school. The tears began streaming down my face as I wrapped my arms around my son from behind and hugged him as I sobbed, "Oh my darling boy. You've missed your Prom! I'm so sorry!" I hugged him tight to me, pressing my aching bosom against his bare back.

James let out a sigh as I cried, ashamed of myself and hurting for my son. "Damn your father for all he's done! You don't deserve this. I shoulda done something!" I sobbed, hunching myself against him.

My son sighed again and slowly turned in my embrace and I became acutely aware of my breasts, nipples hardening, sliding across his body, his flesh separated from mine only by a thin, threadbare cotton gown. It sent a shiver through my body -- a sensation I rarely felt anymore...a sensation that ended in a growing warmth between my legs. James put his arms around me and hugged me back and we embraced tightly there on the window sill, James's face pressed into the soft pillows of my tits, murmuring in a strained voice. "I don't mind, Mom. It's okay. I love you and I'll do whatever it takes to take care of you!"

My son raised his head and I could see the tears in his eyes as he continued. "I don't care about all that stuff, Mom. All I want is to take care of you, Mom!" 

"And you do, James, my dear son, you do," I whispered. "But you've had to sacrifice so much." I leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I love you, too!"

Suddenly it seemed much warmer in the room and despite the heat, I shivered again. It dawned on me that a handsome, strong man had me in his arms...and a barely clothed man at that. It felt good to press myself against all that hard, warm flesh and I had a terrible urge to look down between my son's legs and see if he was responding the same way to his mother's embrace and the thought stunned me! I let my arms fall away and slowly stepped away from him, now incredibly embarrassed. My arms went up and crossed as I didn't want my own son to see his mother's thick nipples hard and trying to poke through her thin gown. James let me go reluctantly, a frown crossing his face as he stood up, his arms still momentarily held out. 

I trembled as I saw it then. Partly in shadow, but distinct nevertheless, my son's erection stood out in his boxer shorts! I started to speak and stopped and then whispered in a voice full of strained lust. "You are all a mother could ever hope for, James, my sweet. I'm so proud of you. Get some sleep, dear." I turned and fled the small room, rushing to the little bathroom and locked myself inside.

I felt all churned up inside -- angry at Jimmy for our situation and ashamed at myself for not figuring out a way for James to have a better childhood and aroused as I hadn't felt in a long time and ashamed of that since it was my own son that had turned me on! I could hardly believe the sudden urges wracking my body, spreading my legs wide as I sat on the toilet and finding my hands down between my legs, rubbing my suddenly wet pussy for several seconds before I realized what I was doing. Fresh tears streamed down my face and I silently cursed Jimmy for putting us into this terrible situation that could lead me to such lurid thoughts.

I had myself a good, long cry and then wiped my eyes and got up. I hurt and ached for my son's plight and my own lonely existence, but knew there was nothing to do but go on. Life is what life is, all we can do is try to survive it day by day!

I came out of the bathroom and as I passed by my son's room I heard him cry out, "Oh, God, Mom!" 

I responded completely on motherly instinct, hearing pain and distress in my son's voice and burst into his room without knocking. "James, what's wro-..." I stopped, stunned by the scene before me and rooted in place from shock.

James was stretched out naked on the bed, his boxer shorts on the floor. His right hand was wrapped tightly around his cock...his hard and bigger than I would have ever believed possible, cock! My son's eyes were closed and he was covered in sweat and his fist was stroking that long shaft and squeezing that huge, plum colored head and he groaned, "I love you, Mom! Fuck it...fuck me, Mom!" It wasn't pain I heard, but passion! James was so deep into his fantasy that he didn't realize I was even in the room. 

At that moment, understanding and revelation exploded within me -- I suppose it was what they call an epiphany. My head spun as I let the truth burst free within me and assimilated what I had forced myself to never acknowledge.

My son and I had been thrust together into this hostile and crowded environment for two years and in my loneliness and misery, I had denied what should have been obvious. In the span of a heartbeat, a million images of my son looking at me...not just as his mother, but as a woman, a weary, but attractive woman...seeing me in that threadbare and worn nightgown night after night or in a slip and bra as we wiggled past each other going to and fro that tiny bathroom, or asleep on the couch, gown accidently pulled up, exposing my long legs and God knows what else, returned to my mind and I realized with amazement that each glance had been filled with love and more...with a young man's hungry lust.

And now a million returned glances exploded in my memory -- a million moments of desire and longing for my son's ever maturing and handsome body, a hard and chiseled body that housed a heart that put me first above all else -- a heart that truly and completely loved me! And I knew...I knew the real truth -- the truth that I had denied every single day for years while I toiled to take care of the sorry son of a bitch I had married, the truth that was real source of my optimism, the wellspring of hope that allowed me to get up everyday and keep going. I loved this boy, my son. I loved him as a mother and I loved him as the man I wished his father had been. I loved James and I wanted and needed him.

"James," I said softly as he masturbated, still moaning "Mom," over and over.


Retribution



My son's eyes opened wide and he saw me in the doorway, light from the window spotlighting me. His mouth worked and nothing came out and he sat up, his hand releasing that magnificent penis and reaching for the blanket to cover up. In a panicked, wet voice, he sobbed, "Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I'm sorry, Mom!"

"No," I replied sternly, taking a step towards him. "No, don't you be a bit sorry, my love!" My hands reached down and I pulled the worn gown up and over my head, revealing my naked body to my son. I threw the old garment aside and climbed up on the bed.

As I swung my leg over my son's body, his thick, erect and hard cock brushing my thigh, leaving a warm trial of precum, James's eyes widened in shock and maybe fear and he gasped, "Mom -- what the hell? Mom -- you can't..."

Then I was on top of him and lying down, trapping his swollen, throbbing meat against my crotch and stomach while my heavy breasts flattened against his strong chest and I said, "I can and I will! You want this, James, darling. I want this." I teased him with a kiss, soft and loving and ending with a wet lick of my tongue across his lips before I added, "Momma's gonna make all your dreams come true!"

James stared at me in wide eyed shock for a moment and then I was engulfed in his embrace as he kissed me, his tongue hungrily slipping into my mouth and finding my own for another taste while his hands roamed over my flesh, squeezing my ass cheeks and stroking my back before intertwining in my hair and holding me firmly in place as we kissed like lovers for the first time.

I had grown up a relatively good girl. I confess to having performed oral sex on two boyfriends after high school and before I met Jimmy. I was still a virgin when Jimmy laid me on our wedding bed and until now his was the only cock I'd ever had inside my pussy. Now I was consumed with a sudden terrible need and desire to know the sinful sensation of having my son's huge dick inside me.

Jimmy hadn't been a good lover all those years before, but I was sure that it wasn't just poor memory that told me that his son's lovely cock dwarfed his own and I wanted it right now! I broke our kiss, saliva splattering over both our chests as I sat up. I felt like I could barely catch my breath as my meaty tits heaved, the nipples swollen up like ripe berries. I ran my hands slowly down James's chest, his muscles now engorged and swollen in his arousal. I could hear my father's lilting brogue in my husky voice as I rasped, "I'm gonna fuck ya now, my son! I want that fine man's cock buried deep in my pussy!"

I rose up on my knees, stretching high as I wrapped one trembling hand around my son's big dick and brought it between my legs where the thick red pelt of my bush was now split by my swollen and slick lips. It had been better than ten years since I'd known a cock and now...now my son was coming all the way home to relieve me of all I'd missed.

"I love you, James," I whispered as I felt his head spreading my pussy. "Momma loves you so much!" I sobbed as I slowly lowered myself, pleasure mixing with pain as my son's thick cock went deeper and deeper into my tight hole -- spreading my cunt wide and never stopping, never pausing, just creating one sweet and continuous sensation of becoming filled with something wonderful!

As I impaled myself on my son's cock, I reached out and took James's hands and placed them on my breasts, guiding him and urging him to sink his fingers into my tit flesh, showing him how to tease his mother's hard and sensitive nipples with his palms, his work roughened flesh delightfully scratchy against my blood engorged nubs. "Oh Mom, I can't believe it...I've dreamed and wanted this." Tears of joy flowed down my son's face as he sobbed, "I love you!"

After what seemed to be an eternity, James's cock was in me to the root -- his reddish blonde wiry pubic hair entangling itself in my thick red bush. I had never felt anything like it. He was so big, I felt stuffed and my son was incredibly long, his cockhead nestled in placed that his father had never touched. I felt dizzy as the erotic bliss of the moment almost made me swoon. I ground my crotch against him and arched my back and stretched, letting my weight settle more on James's body -- seeking to somehow drill a little more of my son's penis inside me.

A blazing fire of lust erupted between my thighs and I began to ride James -- slowly at first -- he felt that big and I felt so tight, but with each incredible up and down motion, we began to move easier -- still tight and delicious, but wetter and slicker as I coated his cock with the creamy juices of my cunt. The fire spread outward from my loins until I felt I was being consumed by flames of incestuous lust and desire. My hair was whipping wildly around as I continued to piston up and down on my son's cock, sweat falling from my body to splatter on James's slick skin, his hips thrusting upwards to meet my downward slide in an almost bone-jarring collision of bodies.

I heard a keening wail a long time before I realized it was me, crying out in orgasmic pleasure as for the first time in years a hard cock made me cum! My pleasure turned white hot and increased a thousand fold as my orgasm swept me up and I surrendered to this incestuous love body and soul, continuing to fuck my son as I quivered and shook with unbelievable pleasure.

With his cock buried deep inside me, James sat up, his mouth coming to cover one of my nipples and sucking on it like a hungry babe, his teeth making me moan lewdly as he nipped and teased my sensitive flesh. As my orgasm waned, I was helpless in his arms with barely enough strength to kiss him and stroke his back. With a hungry growl, James took a firm hold on my body and literally flipped us around in midair and I found myself landing roughly on my back on that narrow bed, my breath whooshing from my body as my son's hard cock still deep in my cunt drove itself a little deeper with the impact.

I shivered as I looked into James's eyes and saw in them more than just love and lust. There was a hunger in his brown-green eyes that promised never to be sated...that demanded to be compensated for all that had never happened before and an insistence that this would never end. I shivered from the intensity I saw there and because I felt welling up inside my soul the same hunger and insistence. What my son and I did here and now could not and would not ever stop!

James ran his hands over my heaving tits and down my sides, stroking my thighs and then my ankles which he then took hold of and then my son lifted my legs and spread them as wide as he could while he began to thrust into me. I flung my head back as I felt him stroke deep inside me, opening me up to more and more of his long, thick penis. James fucked me like a madman for what seemed an eternity and while part of me reveled in the seemingly endless flow of orgasmic joy that washed over my body, another part of me marveled at the amazing control my James seemed to possess. 

He let my ankles go suddenly and I somehow managed to wrap my legs around his thrusting hips, digging my heels into his tight ass cheeks while he eased his body lower onto mine and showered me with wet, sloppy kisses -- our tongues dancing and flirting and making love on their own.

James began to fuck his mother with mad abandon and I held on to him for dear life, trying to thrust back even as I slipped into yet another orgasm and then my son howled like wolf and thrust deep one last time and I screamed in passionate delight as I felt his cockhead swell and then he was flooding me with hot, thick cream and I was insane with pleasure as my son filled my womb with his semen, searing my insides with more of a man's seed that I would have thought possible. Heavy jet after jet of sperm burst forth from his cock -- so much I wondered if it would ever end...not that I minded. It was hot and beautiful and in the haze of my incestuous orgasm, I wept with the beauty of the moment and of the unbelievable sensations.

The world went away for a bit, leaving only sweet and incredible pleasure that was my entire world and then I was back and in my son's arms and his lovely cock still inside me as he kissed my face tenderly, whispering over and over again, "You, Mom, you are all I ever wanted or will ever need...just you, Mom. I love you."

I kissed him back, somehow finding the strength to raise my hand to stroke his cheek. "I love you, James, my dear sweet boy. Your mother will never let you go -- it's you and me, now and forever!"

We fell asleep then in each other's arms and for the first time in longer than I could remember, I had a good night's sleep, feeling safe in my son's arms. My last conscious thoughts were of how good and warm he felt, the light hair on his chest tickling my nose as I pressed my face to his body, smelling his earthy, sweaty scent while his arms held me close in a strong embrace.

In the light of a reddish colored dawn, we both seemed to awake together, James's cock still in me and growing long and hard again. We both looked at each other, the hope and joy that it all wasn't just a wonderful dream evident in both our faces. We were cuddled on our sides and my son rolled us so that he was more or less on his back and we had a long, slow fuck with his hands cupping my ass and moving me back and forth on his stiff dick -- neither of us in a hurry, both of us just enjoying the moment. 

It was lovemaking as I'd never known before. With Jimmy it had been straight up, lets get going sex -- good in a basic way, but this was more...this was what it meant to have someone make love to you who truly believed you to be the end all and be all of their world. As my son fed me his sweet, fine cock we whispered our desires to each other, bared our souls to each other and with each long, drawn out thrust I fell more and more in love with my beloved James, my heart swelling and breaking as he gently told me of his secret longing for me for several years and how it grew with each passing day. James told me how he had longed desired to see me treated like the wonderful woman he knew I was deserved to be treated.

It eased my guilt for his lost youth with James telling me of how it had made him so happy to be my man in so many ways and I wept with joy as he confessed his dreams for us -- a world free of his father and this sad, decrepit place, someday making a home for us where we could live happily ever after. This last part he told me in a strained voice amidst my escalating cries of pleasure as he brought us both to an exquisite orgasm that seemed to go on and on...carrying me to heaven's door as his cum filled my pussy amidst his soft whispers of, "We will live happily ever after, Mom. I swear it!"

It seemed like we lay there basking in the golden glow of the newly discovered depths of our love for an eternity, but all good things seem destined to end and so did that wonderful moment as I heard Jimmy's demanding noises from the living room...noises that indicated that he needed to be cleaned and fed.

With great regret, I left my son's bed and dressing quickly, I began another day's chores -- cleaning Jimmy up and seeing to his breakfast. Cleaning him was always the biggest chore, but as I rolled him over on his side to wash him, I felt a hand on my shoulder and there was James, a smile on his face as he moved to help me -- a smile unlike any I'd seen in years -- a happy, hopeful smile and one that prodded a similar one from me. As my husband glared at me and his son, we finished him quickly and I sat about fixing our breakfast.

In our financial state, all we really could afford was plain oatmeal which while nourishing, was as bland as cardboard. Because I felt so happy that morning, I splurged and added a bit of my hoarded coffee to our meal...Jimmy loved coffee and was spiteful when he didn't get it. This morning he was spiteful despite getting his favorite treat.

His eyes seemed to convey a deeper level of hate this morning and it dawned on me that he might have heard us in the night or this morning making love. In any case, while James washed up in the bathroom, I tried to feed Jimmy, but he was angrily spitting food at me after the first few swallows. "You need to settle yourself down and act right, Jimmy," I begged, wiping spit and oatmeal off my gown. "What's wrong with you this morning, anyway?"

By way of answer, my husband turned his eyes towards the bathroom door and then spit at me again. "Damn your soul you hateful bastard!" I cried as I looked at my now filthy gown. Jimmy's eyes were full of fire and hatred and he mewled something almost indecipherable...but it sounded like he called me a whore.

He knew then. There was no doubt about it -- Jimmy knew that our son and I had fucked each other like mad lovers in the night. Jimmy trembled with effort and he managed to mumble, "Cunt...Whore," and spit at me again. And for the second time within a few hours, I had that perfect moment of clarity and all the years of abuse and neglect came to the forefront of my consciousness and my anger welled up as I stood up and said, "That's enough, you son of a bitch." I raised my fist back to strike him, but I caught myself as I suddenly realized that there was a better way to get my revenge...no, my retribution for all the years of hell my husband had put me and my son through.

"James," I called out loudly. "Come here!"

There was a momentary pause and then my son emerged from the tiny bathroom -- a threadbare towel around his waist. "Mom, are you alright?" he said.

There was a fine razor edged quality to my voice as I replied, "I am absolutely fine, darling. Please bring Momma a chair from the kitchen." I pointed to one of the plain, wooden straight back chairs that we used at the tiny round table. "Set it here directly in front of your father."

James obeyed me quickly, a confused look on his face. I centered it, facing towards Jimmy at a distance of five feet -- making sure to be outside my husband's spitting range. "Mom?" James said softly. "What's going on?"

I glared down at Jimmy and then as I turned towards my son, I quickly pulled my gown over my head and again tossed it aside. "Retribution, son!" I hissed and then I flung my arms around his neck and kissed him hard as I pressed my naked flesh against his hard body. James stiffened in surprise as I pressed my tongue into his mouth, but as our tongues danced together, I felt him relax and he didn't resist as I reached down and tugged his towel free and tossed it away to land next to my soiled and discarded gown. 

I moaned appreciatively as my son's hands began to roam over my back and hips, slowly stroking me one moment and kneading handfuls of flesh the next. I heard an indignant snarl of sorts from across the room, but ignored it, losing myself in the embrace of my loving son. I could feel James's cock growing against my belly, its inevitable rising up evoking a delicious sensation as it moved against my skin.

The kiss ended with us both practically breathless and I turned to Jimmy, savoring the anger in his eyes now and I ground myself against James as I said, "Doesn't our son have a fine body, Jimmy. He's got the body of a real man..." I slipped my hand downward and wrapped it around his erection and continued, "And our son has the cock of a real man...a fine, big cock, much bigger than yours ever was, don't you agree?" I slowly stroked it, feeling it pulse in my hand. "And Jimmy, it feels so good inside me -- so much better than ever your puny little thing did!"

I felt James's cock swell at his mother's words and while facing towards Jimmy, I rubbed my cheek against our son's chest. "And Jimmy, he makes me so wet just thinking of him inside of me, fucking me, Jimmy -- cumming in me and making me cum harder and better than you ever did."

I slipped in front of James, shivering as I felt his erect cock nestle itself in the crack of my ass. My son pleased me by instinctively joining in on the torture I wanted to inflict on my sorry spouse. James's hands slipped up and cupped my heavy breasts, kneading and bouncing my plentiful tit flesh and pinching and tugging on my swollen nipples till I was ready to scream.

"Isn't Mom beautiful, Dad?" James chimed in. "She is absolutely fucking gorgeous!" I sighed happily as my son ducked his head and kissed me softly on my shoulder. He looked down at his father and continued, "You were a fucking idiot not treating Mom like a queen, Dad." Then, even without seeing his face, I knew my son was displaying a wolfish smile as he said, "But don't worry, Dad. I'm taking care of Mom now...and I'll fuck her like she deserves whenever she wants it!"

I giggled and as I wiggled my ass against my son's erection, I said, "Mmmmm. I want you to fuck me right now, James. Will you fuck your Mom good...right now, son?"

James's fingers intertwined in my hair, both between my legs and on my head. He leaned my head back and kissed me while running his fingers through my thick, red bush to find my slippery wet labia and split them, revealing my sodden, pink flesh.

As the kiss ended, he eased himself down onto the wooden chair, pulling me towards his lap, but I had a sudden new inspiration. I knelt at his side, glancing at Jimmy whose face was almost as red as my hair and I gave him a sweet smile as I again took our son's cock in my hand and slowly stroked it up and down.

"Isn't it lovely, Jimmy -- hard and long and thick!" I moved my head towards James's lap, planting little kisses on his thigh. "I've been dying to taste it, but I've been enjoying our boy's cock in my pussy so much." I paused with my mouth hovering over James's cock, feeling the warmth coming from the swollen head and smelling his scent -- his musk mixed with the smell of semen. 

I reached out and flicked James's cockhead with my tongue and said, "You always said I wasn't much of a cocksucker, Jimmy. I wonder if your son will agree?" I ran my tongue up and down James's shaft and licked his large balls and added, "I'm out of practice of course, but I'm going to be getting lots of practice with our son from now on!" I rolled my tongue up the length of James's penis and then took him in my mouth -- never taking my eyes off my husband as he glared at us. I sucked my son deep, taking as much of his length as I could before letting him slip almost completely free, my lips holding him while my tongue busily explored and washed his crown.

James groaned and sighed as his mother went down on him, murmuring to his father about how good I was. I would occasionally take my eyes off Jimmy and look to our son and we would share a moment of perfect bliss flavored by the sheer perversity of the moment. I suppose we should have been ashamed at torturing Jimmy like that, but to this day, I've never felt any guilt -- remembering only the sheer lewd excitement of not only making love to my son, but rubbing my bastard husband's face in our incestuous passion.

Finally, I could take waiting no more and I let James slip from between my lips and with his help rose to my feet. "Now's the moment you've been waiting for, Jimmy," I hissed as I moved to straddle our son's lap facing my husband. I felt completely liberated as I felt James's wet and hard cock press against my cunt flesh as Jimmy stared deadly daggers at us. "Your son is going to fuck your wife, Jimmy. Your son is going to fuck me better than you ever dreamed of doing and your son is going to make his mother -- your lawfully wedded wife cum her brains out!" I began to lower myself onto my son's thick penis and as it disappeared inside me, I moaned, "And you can't stop me, you limp dicked bastard!"

I'm sure we looked incredibly erotic and lewd with my legs draped over James's thighs, my feet barely touching the ground, levering myself up and down on my son's cock by my toes, while he groped my bouncing tits and nuzzled my neck and ear, both of us grinning and moaning while staring at Jimmy -- humiliatingly cuckolding him while he helplessly watched.




Retribution



"Oh God, Mom," James groaned as he pinched my nipples and planted kisses on my shoulder and neck, his lips making me quiver almost as much as that thick penis buried in my cunt did! "Your pussy is soooo fine, Mom! I love it! I love you, Mom!"

"I love you, James, my sweet motherfucker!" I crooned back to my son as I rode him -- savoring every moment of his thick meat slipping deep in. "You're a fine lover, son -- much better than your daddy ever was!" I twisted and writhed in my son's lap, taking his hands and helping them squeeze my tits, urging him to pinch and pull on my nipples ever more roughly. 

Our bodies were soon covered in sweat and the room quickly reeked of our scent - fuck sweat and hot pussy. I could feel the pleasure roiling inside me, becoming more intense with each passing moment, threatening to explode into orgasmic fire and I was bucking and bouncing on James's cock as I screamed, "He's wonderful, Jimmy -- a real man fucking me -- making me cum like a man should. Your son's a better man than you, a better lover...a better fucker than you ever were!" Then I was screaming with the overwhelming joy of orgasm as James pulled me down hard on his cock and with his fine penis buried deep in my womb he began to pump his hot seed inside me!

Jimmy in his bed seemed almost to vibrate with impotent fury and in the midst of my son induced orgasm, I found myself laughing -- the first full bodied happy laugh I let out in longer than I could remember. After all these miserable years of suffering and abuse, I was happy again! 

As I felt James's cock begin to shrink in the aftermath of our lovemaking, I stood and turned around and began to shower his face with kisses -- his father now the farthest thing from my mind. "Take me to bed, darling," I gasped between kisses. "Make love to me again!" 

"My pleasure, Mom," James replied as he stood up, bearing my weight easily and carried me into his small bedroom where for the next few hours, I forgot all about the bad part of our lives while my son made me remember all that is glorious about being a woman in love. I marveled at James's endurance and ability to recover. Perhaps it was simply his youth, but I think that there was a lot of wished for loving that inspired my son to continue to perform and please his mother.

Later in the day as we took care of Jimmy's physical needs, I felt enveloped in a cocoon of love unlike anything I'd ever experienced -- one that shielded me from my husband's ever present hate. Now he was something more or less to be pitied. Filled with my son's love (not to mention his hot semen), I could face any thing.

I also discovered that while I savored every moment James and I shared in the bedroom, I also was enjoying every moment that we could rub Jimmy's face in the fact that our son and I were now unashamedly lovers. That Saturday night as we watched television on the little black and white set we'd found in a second hand store, James and I were sitting on the couch holding hands as a Red Sox game unfolded. It was a hot night with no wind and the box fan on the fritz so my son was wearing only his boxer shorts and I was in a ragged slip. Jimmy was oblivious to the game, instead looking angrily at us. 

Perhaps I am a terrible person, but I couldn't help myself. "You hoping for a little more of a peek, Jimmy?" I asked in a sweet voice. "It'll be my pleasure!" Winking at James, I slid to the floor and moved between my son's knees. I sighed with pleasure as I reached out and palmed his crotch, my heart beating faster as I felt James's cock pulse and grow. 

"Ah, Jimmy -- you should be proud of James. He's already cummed in my pussy at least four times today and our fine man of a son can still get hard for his mother!" I said in a happy, laughing voice that I scarcely recognized as my own. I looked up into James's eyes and felt the heat again grow in my now well fucked pussy and said, "Would you like Mommy to suck your cock, sweetheart?"

James sighed happily, his face smooth and clear of many of the premature lines that the recent years had marked him with and he replied, "I would love that, Mom!"

It was with great relish that I fished his cock from his shorts, once again marveling at is girth and length and I leaned in and kissed the head tenderly before taking him in my mouth and letting my tongue roll slowly over his swollen glans, savoring the taste of the precum already building in his slit. I glanced over at Jimmy and saw his face, red and infuriated as he stared at me orally pleasing our son.

It thrilled me to humiliate him so -- not as a sadistic thrill but as retribution for all the pain and anguish he'd inflicted upon us. Satisfied, I turned my gaze again to James and held his gaze as he watched me suck his cock. All my energies turned to pleasing him and I tried to note which movements of my lips and tongue seemed to make him happiest. It took a little doing and I thought I would choke once or twice, but I managed to take all of him in my mouth -- doing that deep throat thing and reveled as I watched my son throw his head back in sheer ecstasy as I sucked him and sucked him and sucked him some more.

The day's events left him with considerable staying power and with nothing better or more enjoyable to do, I tried to give him the blowjob of a lifetime. When he would approach climax, I would back off, letting his blood swollen penis slip from between my lips to cool off a bit. I would fill these moments with pointed comments at Jimmy, asking him if I was sucking our son's cock correctly and informing him of how superior James's cock was to that of his father. "Don't you wish, Jimmy, that it was your wee little cock I was sucking?" I said tauntingly. "All your cruel words to me now, I bet you're wishing you could take back."

I licked the head of James's dick and smacked my lips as I grinned up at my husband, his anger almost turning him purple and then I added, "But from now on, the only cock these lips will taste is that of our son!"

Again and again, I took James deep in my mouth and throat, my tongue licking and exploring every ridge and vein of my son's wonderful cock until I was almost shivering from exhaustion. Finally, I could wait no more -- I began vigorously sucking James's cockhead, urging him with my eyes to cum for his mother and after a few minutes of exquisite torture, James moaned, "Mom, I'm -- I've got to cum!"

I sucked all the harder and was immediately rewarded with a tremendous blast of delicious, hot semen. I almost choked from the quickness and amount of sperm as my son shot streamer after streamer of thick and hot salty semen into my hungry mouth. I held off swallowing so I could let my son slip from my mouth, long and messy strands of spunk extending from his cock to my lips and show my husband how much seed our son could produce.

James's hands were intertwined in my hair and he was gasping, "That was incredible, Mom. I love you so much," while trying to catch his breath.

"I love your cum, James," I replied, licking a glop of his sperm from my lips. I turned and grinned at Jimmy who looked near enough to having another stroke. "And we're going to do this a lot from now on, I promise!"

As I got off my knees, James reached out and took my hand. "You know, Mom -- turn about is only fair play."

I raised an eyebrow and cocking my head to one side, said, "Now, whatever do you mean by that, son?"

In reply, James placed his hands under my slip and between my legs, palming my tender cunt. "I haven't gotten to taste your pussy yet, Mom!" He said with a leering grin and licking his lips.

My hands flew to my mouth in shock and in a breathless voice, I answered, "You'll be wanting to lick my pussy, James? No one -- your father never did that!"

James stood and waltzed me around and sat me down on the couch. As he knelt, he looked over at his father and said, "Dad, you're such a fucking idiot. How could you not want to eat Mom's pussy?" He flipped my slip upwards, revealing my red bush and my now well fucked cunt, almost as red as my pubic hair, my labia thick and swollen, glistening with my juices. James ran his hands along my inner thighs and then rubbed both palms over my sensitive puss -- almost making me cum just from his light touch.

"Oh son, have you ever done this before?" I whispered in wonder. I had never been licked before! Jimmy had thought it a foul and dirty thing to do all those years ago and now my son was eager and drooling to put his mouth on me where not but a few hours before he'd pumped load after load of sperm inside!

The bravado in his voice faded as James said softly back, "No, I haven't, Mom, but I've dreamed of eating your pussy and I promise you, I will become good at it!"

I spread my legs wide as James plunged his face into my tender flesh, crying out in delight as his tongue, thick and warm washed across my pussy lips and delved into my cunt. It was wonderful and in just a few seconds I was on fire like never before and my head was swimming as my son's tongue just seemed to devour me. 

I cried and squirmed as James's tongue seemed to be everywhere...probing deep into my cunt or licking up and down my labia or probing for my clitoris, urging it to emerge from its little hood. His breath tickled as it blew warm air through my thick mat of red hair. As my son sucked and chewed and licked my pussy, I felt myself cumming over and over again, my body jerking about and stiffening up as orgasms swept me up...I was even aware of a sudden and strange, but intensely pleasurable sensation of ejaculating pussy juices into James's face as the incestuous pleasure took me time and time again.

Through it all, Jimmy stared and fumed, his mouth working impotently to form incoherent curses as he watched his only son kneel between his wife's legs and devour her pussy, pleasuring his mother while his father could only helplessly stare.

The pleasure was so incredible, so intense that I think I blacked out at least once. I know I suddenly realized that I was naked and that while lapping my pussy, James was also mauling my tits, pinching them hard as his tongue brought me off again, intensifying my pleasure in ways I would never have dreamed possible!

I was in a daze as our first full day as lovers ended and James and I dutifully made Jimmy ready for the night. Having prepared Jimmy for bed, I turned to my son and wrapped my arms around him. James's hands found my asscheeks and he lifted me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist, his hardening cock trapped between our bodies and we both wished Jimmy sweet dreams before my son carried me to his bedroom to make love to me one more time before we fell headlong into dreams of what might be yet to come.

And just that quickly the world seemed to change. Life was no longer a continuous drudge of hopeless labor and poverty. Taking care of Jimmy was a breeze knowing that my James would be transporting me to another world of delicious, incestuous pleasure, both in the near privacy of that tiny bedroom and with our blatant and lewd exhibitions in front of Jimmy. His anger now was muted by his wife and son's lust and love for each other.

Economically, things gradually improved as well. When James graduated in May from high school, he began applying for better jobs and found one. We were still poor, but now James had a better paying daytime job and supplemented that with some part time work that allowed us to spend more time together. We all were eating better and James took great delight bringing me the occasional little gift -- a new negligee and my first decent dress in years and perfume!

The doctor at the free clinic noted that even Jimmy seemed better health wise. "Although his spirits seem in decline -- I'm not seeing that old fire of his anymore," remarked the doctor. I had no answer for him, but I smiled with the secret knowledge that my retribution against Jimmy was visibly taking its toll. His anger at being openly cuckolded by his wife and son was extinguished fraction by fraction with each act of fucking or sucking that James and I performed in front of him. You can call me a spiteful and callous bitch if you want, but never once did I ever feel any guilt or remorse over making my husband watch me being pleasured by our son or making him witness my sluttish devotion to James. Indeed, it made the sex special and delicious in its own way.

Life went on this way for the next two years until the morning I arose from bed, my thighs sticky with my son's semen from a night of passionate lovemaking, and found Jimmy dead. The doctor's opinion was that a final stroke had killed him and I imagine that it indeed was the physical cause -- but in my heart, I proudly know that with every son induced moan of pleasure and with every combined cry of incestuous orgasm that Jimmy endured, we killed a bit of his black soul. I feel no shame. It wasn't revenge we'd earned, but a just retribution for the long years of pain that man gave his wife and son.

It might be melodramatic to end our story with a revelation that after Jimmy's burial in the city's pauper's graveyard that we found Jimmy's hidden stash of ill gotten cash and that James and I lived happily ever after, but of course that's not quite the way it happened.

Freed of the obligation of caring for Jimmy, I found work for myself and at my insistence James enrolled in the local college and went back to work part-time. The next few years were a struggle financially although we were wealthy beyond measure in terms of love as my son and I truly became one. Finally, James graduated with a degree in business and today we live in the Midwest, with James rising rapidly within the banking industry. 

We rarely speak of the old days preferring to savor the present and dream of the future...a future in each other's arms, free of reckless and futile hatred and filled with the love of a mother and son. I'm still an optimist -- I've been wronged, but I had my retribution and life is once again wonderful.

The End 



Retribution



It was a look that she knew well. While it terrified her, it thrilled her at the same time. She felt herself throb with desire to be given another opportunity to please Him. 

She remembered what happened last night and His promise of retribution. Wanting nothing more in life than to satisfy Him, she had tried desperately to bring Him to orgasm while sucking His cock. When she felt the muscles in her jaw cramp from the tremendous force of His thrusts and from being stretched to accommodate his immense girth, she feared that she might involuntarily clamp down on His massive member. She pulled back, more for His safety than for her comfort. It enraged Him. On the brink of climax, He finished himself, shooting His spunk on her face while she knelt before Him, disgraced. She had failed Him miserably. 

His hand, obscured by her dinner napkin which was draped over her lap, reached beneath the hem of her black cocktail dress under the table. 

In the dimly lit chophouse, their dinner companions were oblivious. The two older couples were busy discussing their recent Alaskan cruise. Both of the males, His bosses, were gentlemanly fellows and were happy to mentor their new protégé. It was the first time the young couple had been invited to socialize with the partners. She knew that she had best make a good impression. Smiling often, but adding little to the dialogue, she felt like His butterfly under a glass dome. 

His hand ran along her thigh high silk stocking, until finding soft, bare flesh. She could distinctly feel His fingers and the warmth and strength of His palm. She fought back the reflexive shuddering tendencies that His tactile stimulation caused. She opened her legs slightly, allowing Him access. Her heart quickened and she wondered if the tale-tell signs of her desire showed prominently on her face; the display of her aching nipples evidenced the rage of sensations under the bodice of her dress.

The subject of the table banter among the males was the impending settlement of a large case. He managed to interject His thoughts, all the while His index finger made its way to the crotch of her juice soaked panties.

She took a sip of Merlot, scanning the faces of her dinner companions as she replaced the wine glass on the table. 

Meandering under the fabric, He found her opening, which was hot and flooded with her passion. Using discreet force, He penetrated her with one finger. With all fortitude she resisted her cunt's demand that she open her legs and ride His hand. 

Attempting to distract herself, she individually fingered each of the exquisitely matched pearls which comprised the simple choker-length strand, resting in the pit between her clavicles. 

He never missed a verbal cue from the partners. It was though His hands conducted a symphony below the table, while He had the presence of mind to proffer inventive legal theories to those whom He needed to impress. 

She felt another finger enter her, stretching her pleasantly. He removed a coated finger and located her clitoris. He expertly began to unpeel her micro-heart which was swollen and throbbing. Delicately, He began to finger stroke the hard bead. She wanted desperately to thrust her pelvis forward, meeting His digits which were the immediate source of all gratification. However, He needed no assistance from her, as He strummed her body with greatest of familiarity. 

The forbidden nature of their play, the urgency and the risk caused sensations which she had never experienced. The slightest grimace of ecstasy or groan of elation would be cause for His wrath, which she had already awoke the previous evening. She prayed for the ability to be stoic and endure the impending orgasmic wave...

Like watching television with no sound, she smiled at the strange faces and watched their lips move, but heard nothing. Breathless, she grabbed the table for support, as she struggled to repress the involuntary convulsions as the orgasm overtook her. 

She caught a glimpse of Him in her periphery. He smiled and filled her glass with the dark burgundy liquid.



Retribution



We couldn't get in the door fast enough. As soon as he slammed it behind him, he pinned me against the wall, clawing at my clothing and assaulting my lips with his.

Reaching for the buttons on his shirt, I undid the first one, then ripped it open, ignoring the ping of the buttons bouncing off the walls around us and feeling his hot, hard chest under my questing hands. I raked my fingernails over his nipples and felt him let out a groan against my mouth.

Threading his fingers through my hair, he tore his lips from mine and trailed hot kisses down my throat to my now exposed breasts. I felt him smile against me. 

"You weren't wearing a bra the whole night?" he managed to rasp out, capturing a taut nipple in his mouth.

"No," I breathed, knowing it drove him crazy when I didn't wear a bra.

I hadn't told him on the trip to his parents' house and I, of course, hadn't mentioned it either there or on the way home. 

When we were alone at his parents', which was only for a brief few minutes in their kitchen, I'd teased him endlessly, watching his discomfort when his mother had walked into the kitchen. I had smiled wickedly at him then offered to help his mother with desert.

The look on his face had promised retribution for my tormenting and I had felt my body tingle in anticipation.

"You little tease," he said, releasing a nipple with a pop, then finding the other. "I should take you over my knee, but I know you'd like that far too much."

I tangled my fingers through his dark hair and held him to me, arching to push my sensitive mound deeper into the hot depth of his mouth. 

I cried out when he pulled away, a look of pure lust on his handsome face. His blue eyes were clouded with desire, but also sparkling with mischief. He took another step back and pulled his ruined shirt from his shoulders.

Dropping it to the floor, he reached for the snap on his jeans. When I reached out to help him, he slapped my hands away.

"Oh no, you're gonna pay for teasing me, sweetheart."

Keeping his gaze locked with mine, he dropped his jeans to his ankles, then toed off his shoes. I tore my eyes from his and allowed them to roam his magnificent body. My mouth went dry when it dawned on me he hadn't been wearing any underwear either. I ogled the protruding proof of his arousal. I could see it throbbing and I felt my body scream with need for him. 

"God, please," I begged, reaching out to pull him against me.

He smiled and shook his head. Taking my hand, he led me to our bedroom. Pushing me back onto the bed, he lowered himself over me, devouring my lips in a hungry kiss. I felt his hands roam my heated flesh, pausing to cup a breast before he reached between us and pushed one hand under the waistband of my skirt.

"Bad girl, no panties either."

I opened my legs to allow him access, and whimpered when he ran a finger along my wet slit, then pulled his hand away. Raising my hips, I tried to keep his finger where I wanted it most, but he pulled his hand from my skirt then stuck his finger in his mouth, lapping up the proof of my arousal.

"Mmmm, sweet as honey," he whispered, reaching out to unsnap my skirt and pull it down my legs. In his haste, he ripped the material and I chuckled. If we kept up at this rate, we'd both need a new wardrobe.

Pulling the torn garment from my body, he lowered himself over me again and entered me in one slow thrust. Apparently the retribution for my teasing was over.

"Yeah, fuck me," I breathed against his lips. I felt him smile again.

His movements inside me stilled and he broke the kiss. Gazing down into my eyes, I saw he was fighting for control. 

"Tell me, did you enjoy teasing me at my parents' tonight?"

I sighed, knowing I wasn't going to get what I wanted until I answered him. "Of course I did."

"I should let you suffer, you know." He pulled out and thrust back in, then held himself still again. "Just because you're so wicked."

I purposely clenched my muscles around him, smiling when he let out a deep grunt of frustration. "But you love me anyway." I raised my hips to take him deeper. "Now stop teasing and fuck me, dammit!"

He pulled himself almost completely out again, then drove deep. He stilled once more, then repeated the process. Smiling down at me, he continued his torment three more times. The man was driving me absolutely crazy.

"You know my mom knew what you were up to."

"Can we not talk about your parents right now?" I wrapped my legs around him and reached down and grabbed his ass, squeezing it and silently begging him to fuck me. I was so close, it wouldn't take much, and he knew that.

When I clenched my muscles around him again, the look on his face said he'd lost his control. His movements were frenzied as he drove in and out of me, harder, deeper than he'd ever done before. I could actually feel his cock hardening even more inside me.

My orgasm worked its way through my body, starting at where we were joined and radiating outward until I was writhing and crying out beneath him. With my arms wrapped around him, I dug my nails into his back and rode out the waves of intense pleasure.

His body tensed and I felt his cock swell before it erupted, bathing my womb with his seed. He held his body over me on trembling arms, then leaned down to kiss me. Rolling to his side, he pulled me close and I rested my head on his shoulder.

He took a few deep breaths, trying to regain his composure. "So much for retribution," he said, placing a kiss on the top of my head.

"Yeah. Next time you can tease me."

He chuckled. "Oh, you can count on it. Happy Anniversary, sweetheart."

"Happy Anniversary," I mumbled in reply, scooting in closer and drifting off to sleep.



Retribution



Author's note: This is the second part of the trilogy. The first part I cannot place on the site because of the content involving the age of the character. The first part can be found on my personal site however. Also reading this trilogy will spoil the character a little if you have not read at least the first three CATU novels.

Makings of an Assassin: Retribution

The time had finally come for Talilith to fulfill her promise and allow me my retribution against the demon responsible for my parent's death. After spending nearly a year doing small tasks for her, I felt it was time for her to fulfill her end of the bargain. She told me it wouldn't be easy to get in, get close or even kill him, but it didn't matter. When I began a mission I completed it, no matter what.

"You will have to go to New York," Talilith instructed me. "There you will need to find Delfonis or as he goes by the human name Tony DeMarco. He's Cephalon's number one for the Sanguine Consortium."

My task was going to take me to the other side of the world. I had hoped Cephalon was here in Sydney, but as my luck would have it he wasn't. I had asked Talilith once why she has chosen Australia as a place to reside. Her answer was simple: It's a good place to go unnoticed.

"And how do I accomplish this?" I asked.

"Go to the Borgo Antico Italian Restaurant. Ironically Cephalon enjoys the whole Mafia idea and treats his organization as one," she explained. "Just go there and ask for Tony. Tell him I spoke of him and since my operation fell you are seeking greater employment."

"It's going to be that easy?" I asked knowing nothing in the world is easy and everything comes with a price. I had to sell my soul to a demon just so I could get my revenge. At the time it wasn't such a bad idea.

"Of course it won't," she replied with a grin. "He will have you do some kind of job or task, but I'm sure you won't have any trouble completing it."

"No of course not," I said assuredly. There really wasn't a job I couldn't do. Even if there was one I would do what I had to in order to get my vengeance.

"Excellent," she said with a coy smile. "If you survive, I have a few tasks for you."

Of course you do, I thought to say. It wasn't that I minded doing her tasks; it gave me purpose after all. "You think I won't survive?" I asked instead.

"I would hope not, but there really is no telling. Humans after all are so very frail."

"And you would miss me," I stated knowing my words were false.

"I would miss your skills," she answered. As an afterthought she said, "And maybe your company."

Talilith Maykov was once human. Humans needed company, a presence, the need to not be alone. I felt certain it was the part of her that was once human that craved this. I didn't dare address this. I was not yet able to defeat her, though I knew in the future I would be.

"Then I will guarantee my survival," I said meaning it. Once I gave my word, I followed through. I had a feeling I would eventually regret my agreement I had made with her, but there were always ways to break an agreement without losing honor.





Retribution



My wait took less time than I had expected. The hostess returned and gave me directions to where I was supposed to meet with Tony DeMarco. The directions took me to the back through the same set of doors the hostess entered and exited from.

I followed a path through the kitchen and through another set of doors leading into a well lit hallway. The walls were white and bare giving the place a lifeless feel. I continued until I reached the far end and went another set of doors.

The restaurant was large but after covering the distance I had, I suspected the back part of the next building served as the office area for the restaurant. Passing through the doors a new hallway appeared with the options to go either left or right. I chose the path to the right because the directions were to go that way.

I came to a door near the end of the hall and knocked. A voice bade me in and I proceeded in.

"Beautiful for a human and assassin," the man sitting at a large oak desk said as I entered.

"You speak as if you are not human."

"Don't play with me girl. You claim you belonged to Talilith so you know of what she is and of what I am," he said sternly. "Indulge me and tell me what has happened to her."

Talilith had told me some of the demons directly involved in her dealings would question of her or her whereabouts. Until the next Winter council was summoned she could ultimately stay hidden. I was told to play ignorant in the matter. I was tempted to reveal the truth and would have had I not chose to honor our agreement.

"I can only presume she is dead," I lied. "I went to a designated place to meet her after things went bad, but she never showed and to this day I have yet to hear word of her."

"Hmmm." He stroked his beard as his eyes cast all around me. "And you have done what all this time?"

"What I can. I am a person of many trades."

"My boss may have use for someone, but he seeks someone that is skilled enough to fall under his employment."

"I am as skilled as any Delfonis."

His eyes perked at the mention of his real name. He stared at me for another few moments, studying me. I stood silently waiting for him to make the next move. He would either dismiss me and I would have to approach things in a different way or his curiosity would get the better of him.

In the end, curiosity won out.

"Who are you?"

"Tsyr Ker," I said solemnly.

He sat back in his chair just a bit. "Indeed you are skilled. Perhaps one of the very few humans even we demons fear."

I thought to push him. To see if he himself feared my name or if he'd answer honestly. Regardless how a demon felt they never showed it. Pride and overconfidence was how they expressed themselves.

"So do you have a place for me or what?" I asked beginning to lose my patience a bit—something I very rarely did.

"Not yet," he said a moment later. "First I have a task for you to prove you are who you are and to prove yourself to the boss."

"Very well," I said. "I can handle whatever task you have for me."

"We will see," he said with a smile.





Retribution



I pulled my pants on barely paying any mind to the girl in my bed. "Yea that was good." I glanced at her as I plucked my wallet up off the nightstand and pulled a dollar out. "Here's a buck for your time; you know where the door is when you get dressed." I threw the bill in her lap and left the room not caring whether I hurt her feelings or not. "I'll call ya later." I knew later would never come it never did.

"You used me!"

I waved a dismissive hand though the air. "You were the one that kept calling me. I never said we were in a relationship." I didn't bother taking my eyes off the TV as I continued; I got what I wanted from her and that was enough. "I figured since you were hanging on I might as well get something for the trouble so I did." I shrugged. "Though if you want to keep a man you better learn to be a better lover then that." I stared at her with a mocking smirk. "A rock would have been a better sex partner."

I looked back at the television. "Now if you don't mind you're distracting me from my show. The door is that way." I gave a curt nod in the general direction of the door.

I could see from the corner of my eye her mouth opening and closing trying to put together a cohesive sentence.

"You sorry son of a bitch! I'm not some fucking whore you can just use because you feel like it!" She balled up the bill in her hand and flung it at my head.

I snorted and smirked as I looked over at her. "Apparently you are and I did. Now get the fuck outta my house." I again jerked my head towards the door.

Her shrill voice once again rattled my brain just having to have the last word. "You WILL pay!" With that she stormed out of my house slamming the door behind her.

I barely paid much mind to the girl storming out of my house my attention was more focused on the TV. "Dumb cunt." I mumbled and dismissed the whole event to quickly be forgotten.

~*~

It was some weeks later when I was working my next hook up or more specifically my next steady fuck that my life suddenly took a dramatic turn. I had just left the girl's house debating on whether or not to go to the bar and get a quick one night stand when just as I opened the door to my truck someone placed something over my face.

I tried to fight them off but the chemicals coating the rag were quickly draining me of my strength and consciousness then everything went black.

I don't know how long I was out but when I awoke I found myself in a dark room with a single bare bulb hanging overhead. Of course the first thing though my head was 'Uhhh what happened?' followed by actually repeating the question out loud or did I? It felt like my mouth moved but I couldn't tell if I made a sound or not.

As the cobwebs in my head cleared and my vision became more focused I quickly noted that several things were wrong with my current situation. One; I was tied to a small metal twin bed covered in a thin sheet from neck to knees, and completely naked underneath. Two; I definitely wasn't at home, and three; the small room, the blinding light bulb dangling above me, and the darkness outside the circle of light meant things weren't boding well for me.

"Let me the fuck up!" I yelled with a struggle against my bonds only to be met with silence. "I mean it let me up right now who ever you are or you'll be fucking sorry!"

Still nothing. Where was I? Who did this to me? What was going to happen? Was I being held for ransom? If so who were they trying to ransom me to? My family didn't have a lot of money nor did I.

"I'm going to beat your ass to a bloody pulp when I see your ugly face!" I bellowed getting more and more frustrated as the seconds ticked by and no one answered. Granted it was only a mere second between one rant to the next but that didn't matter to me. What mattered was that I was bound against my will and that was illegal!

"I will see you rot in prison for the rest of your miserable fucking life for this!" I jerked hard against the bonds feeling my flesh become tender around my wrists and ankles.

I tilted my head back and noted I was bound with a coarse rope which with every movement I made it rubbed another layer of skin away. Much more movement and I wouldn't only be rubbed raw but bloody as well. I didn't care though I just wanted untied and out of here wherever here was.

"LET ME THE FUCK UP!" I screamed as loud as I could which finally brought someone into the room I was in.

I looked in the direction where I heard the door open and close but couldn't see anything beyond the small circle of light surrounding me. "You sorry bastard let me go!" I demanded when the being was standing just out of sight beyond the circle of light. I gave another struggle against my bonds and felt a small trickle of blood roll across my wrist.

"Silence" The obviously male voice ordered darkly and laid a belt across my midsection sharply.

The suddenness of the action caught me off guard causing me to yelp against the sharp sting. "I'm going to kick your..." I began to yell when I regained my senses from the shock only to be hit again.

I arched my back off the bed against the pain with a hiss. "You fucking..." I started only to have another hit followed by the sheet being jerked off my naked body.

"Fifty lashes for fifty words spoken without permission." The voice from the darkness ordered.

"What?" I questioned wide eyed as I looked in the being's direction and was only able to make out a dark figure that looked to be dressed in a black robe.

"Fifty-one." The voice had said then brought the belt down across my stomach in smooth quick motion to draw out the maximum amount of pain. "Every word spoken without permission will result in a lash." The voice said darkly then brought down the belt across me a second time cutting across my chest and biting at my nipples.

This time I did let out a cry of pain and before I could finish I felt the belt across my torso three more times.

"You will only speak when TOLD to do so." The voice ordered then whipped me three more times while counting down each strike.

"You are never allowed to look anyone in the face." He said then three lashes. "Eyes always on the floor." Three strikes.

He had only given me fourteen strikes across my body and my entire midsection felt like it was on fire. "Please" I pleaded.

"That's thirty-eight." He ground out in irritation and gave me three more strikes. "You will only speak when TOLD to do so." He repeated again followed by the belt lying across my body three more times.

I could feel hot tears seeping from the corner of my eyes along with the blood trickling from the open skin on my wrists and ankles from my struggles to get away from the pain.

"Now repeat everything I say." The voice ordered and gave me three more lashes.

He didn't wait for me to respond before he continued. "I will never speak unless told to do so."

Apparently I wasn't quick enough to respond as he brought the belt down across my hips and thighs cutting across the top of my dick causing me to scream as loud as I possibly could. Granted I like most men in the world have been hit in my crotch and more then once but this... I had never felt such pain.

"Now say it." The voice ordered when my scream finally died down.

"I will never speak unless told to do so." I whimpered in a whispered voice.

"Good" He growled and whipped me three more times. "I will never look anyone in the face."

"I will never look anyone in the face." I repeated his words and again I felt the sting of the belt three more times. I could feel the hot welts building up on my chest and I was sure by the time he was done I was going to be bloody.

"I will obey any command given."

"I will obey any command given." I repeated and though the haze of the pain from the lashes I could only wonder what this was about. Maybe I was kidnapped for the purposes of slavery since there wasn't much money to be had for my life; who was there to pay for it?

"I am never allowed to speak unless told to do so." I repeated followed by my lashes. "I will never look anyone in the face." Three lashes. "I will obey." Three lashes and I kept repeating it until the last lash fell.

I was in so much pain; the ropes were rubbing my opened raw skin and the burning, stinging, opened, welted chest was trying to out shine the pains from the ropes. It was a contest between the two to see which one could hurt worse and me caught in the middle.

"You will continue to repeat the rules until you are told to stop or you will feel the sting of the belt another fifty times or until you are dead."

The threat rang loud and clear through my ears and I continued to repeat the rules. "I will obey." I answered and could practically hear the man smirking at me.

"I will never speak unless told to do so." I watched from the corner of my eye as the man turned and left the room and was sorely tempted to disobey but all the pain shooting through my body kept my mouth working properly.

"I will never look anyone in the face."

I don't know how long I lay there repeating the three sentences but before I knew it I could feel my eyes feeling heavy as exhaustion pulled at my mind and body. I tried to keep awake and continue to repeat the words for fear of another beating but it was a losing battle and before long I was out cold.

~*~

The next time I awoke I was no longer tied to the bed and I heard myself mutter that I would never speak unless told to do so. I looked down at myself and noted that my wrists and ankles had been bandaged and my burning red welted chest was covered in a Vaseline like substance.

I gently touched my chest and hissed against the stinging pain the contact caused. I decided after a thorough examination of my body that I would live for the time being anyway. I still didn't know where I was, who had me, or what they planned on doing with me. So I opted to look around the room beyond the lighted portion of me and the bed I was sitting on.

As I turned to put my feet on the floor and stand up I spotted a bowl of salad with another bowl of water sitting next to the bed. The thought that there was no silverware to eat the salad with struck and I had to wonder why that of all things would cross my mind.

Why wouldn't I be more concerned with the salad and the water and the possibility that it might contain poison or drugs or something? With that thought I decided against eating or drinking the stuff on the tray for now and opted for exploring my surroundings like I initially planned on doing.

The concrete of the room's floor was cold against my bared feet but I paid no mind to it as I stood up and moved to the edge of the circle of light around me. Beyond the light and in the darkness could be anything, the man with the belt, a rabid dog, a bottomless pit... that last one was ridiculous and snorted I at myself for being so stupid.

I tentatively stepped into the darkness with my hands held up in front of me to feel for anything and make sure I didn't crash into a wall or trip over something. It wasn't long maybe seven or eight feet until I felt my hands land against a concrete wall. 

I kept the number of steps in my head from the bed to this wall then moved to the side following the shape of the wall while trying to keep count in my head. It was at about the fifteenth step that I realized I hadn't found a corner in the wall and with a glance back at the bed sitting under the light I realized that this room was round.

However that didn't stop me from following the wall feeling for a door or a crack that indicated a door. Yet as I circled the room I couldn't find a single thing other than the wall, no cracks, no hinges, no door knobs or handles, nothing.

I looked back at the bed and realized I was right back where I started from when I found the wall. I knew there had to be a door in here somewhere that man that had beat me came though one I saw him; but where was it?

I sighed deeply knowing that if I hadn't found it I wasn't likely going to and with it being so dark in the room beyond the single light there was nothing I could do. With a deep sigh of defeat I slowly shuffled back to my bed and sat down heavily.

What was I going to do? Was anyone looking for me? Most likely but the question was would they know were to begin looking? No one knew where I went the night I was kidnapped and no one would notice I was missing until Monday morning that I was missing. Which made me wonder what day was it? How long had I been unconscious? Were people out there looking for me right now?

Better yet when was my kidnapper going to let me know what was going on? Wasn't that proper kidnapping protocol? Not that I've ever been kidnapped before but from all the movies I've seen on the matter the person always either knew their kidnapper or at least knew WHY they were kidnapped.

As I pondered on why I was here my stomach grumbled loudly causing my eyes to cut to the bowl on the floor. I really didn't want to eat it but there was nothing else and it was that or starve. I picked the bowl up and stared at the contents trying to see if there was something wrong with it but couldn't see any signs of poison; not that I knew what I was looking for anyway.

I took a deep nerve calming sigh and plucked a lettuce leaf out and stared at it for a second covered in what looked to be bleu cheese... ranch maybe? I didn't know I just knew I was hungry and this was all there was to be had.

With a quick sniff to make sure there wasn't something whatever that something would be I didn't know laced in the dressing I popped the lettuce in my mouth.

As I sat there chewing I realized that something was off about the dressing and I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. I furrowed my brows deeply, picked up another piece of dressing covered lettuce, popped it in my mouth, and chewed it slowly trying to pull the flavors out of it. What was it?

I knew it was salad dressing; it was bitter, kind of salty, and a small after taste that I couldn't put a name to. I grabbed the bowl water off the floor, rinsed my mouth after giving the water a thorough examination, and took another bite of my salad trying with all my might to figure out what it was I was eating.

"Are you enjoying your dinner?" The voice echoed through the room.

I startled slightly nearly dropping the bowl to the floor and looked around trying to find the man. "Who are you?" I questioned demandingly.

"That's three." The voice responded and I knew instantly what he was saying. "I will ask you again; are you enjoying your dinner?"

I looked around nervously but the darkness beyond my little circle of light revealed nothing of the secrets it hid. "Yes?" I answered with a flinch expecting the lash of a belt.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" The voice demanded and I could hear the irritation in his voice.

I nodded my head and answered again. "Yes."

"Yes what?"

I looked down at the bowl in my hand and took a deep breath through my nose. "Yes I'm enjoying my dinner." I answered just above a whisper keeping my eyes locked on the bowl.

"Good then you will eat it all and lick the bowl clean then if you are a good little bitch I will give you desert after your three lashes."

I snapped my head up and looked around the room wanting to ask so many questions and demand to be let go but I knew if I said anything those three lashes would climb much higher.

"Oh and one more thing." The voice surrounded me. "You will put the bowl on the floor and eat your dinner like the bitch you are. You will lick your bowl clean and lap your water like a dog. You've seen dogs eat and drink haven't you?"

I slowly nodded my head not believing what I was hearing. He wanted me to eat and drink like a dog? Was he kidding?

"I will obey." The voice ordered coldly.

That triggered my memory to the lashes; I already had three waiting for me and I certainly did not want more. "I will obey." I repeated then set the bowl on the floor, got down on my hands and knees, and began eating my salad like a proper dog would.

"Good little bitch." The voice echoed around me. "Eat all your dinner and you shall be rewarded with a treat."

I did not like the sound of that. What ever this treat was I was sure I wasn't going to want it.

I plucked the last bit of lettuce out of the bowl with my teeth and chewed it still trying to figure out what this dressing was. As near as I could figure it wasn't actual salad dressing for it was lacking the spices needed; actually it was rather bland in comparison.

I swallowed the last bite then licked the bowl clean as instructed and began to get up only to stop when I heard the man's voice.

"No you will stay down and keep your eyes on the floor!" He ordered.

I remained where I was and cut my eyes to the floor. I felt a being coming up behind me and nearly turned to see who it was only to stop; my stinging chest reminded me of what happens when I disobey.

"Three lashes for disobedience." I heard him say followed by the sharp sting of the belt across my bared ass.

I hissed sharply through my teeth but kept still and quiet not wanting to add to the number.

"Good girl." He purred after the third lash and patted my stinging bottom. "Now did you enjoy your dinner?"

"I guess." I whispered as I kept my eyes focused on a small chip in the concrete.

"Yes" He growled and slapped my ass with his hand. "You will answer with a 'yes' no matter what is asked." He gave me another hard slap. "Do you understand?"

"Yes" I answered not wanting another slap.

"You're learning quick." I could hear him grinning with his words and a cold chill shot up my spine. "Now did you enjoy your dinner?"

"Yes" As soon as I answered I felt his hand pat my stinging cheek gently. 

"I was told you loved eating cum."

My eyes snapped wide as my head tilted up. Cum?! I was eating cum?! I opened my mouth to respond to that and get up and kick this man's ass when I felt the sharp sting of a slap on my ass.

"Eyes on the floor!"

I immediately looked back at the crack on the floor knowing what was in store if I didn't.

"Now bitch it's time for your desert. Get on the bed, hands and knees, and keep your eyes down. You move and you will regret it." He bit out from behind me and I knew he was granting me a warning the first one since I awoke and in a sick way I was grateful for it.

As I kneeled on the bed keeping my focus on the bed he came up beside me just out of my peripheral view and slipped a leather collar around my neck. My eyes widened when he buckled it just tight enough to make me feel like I was choking then twisted it around my neck so the buckle was to the front.

I watched as a glove covered hand appeared in my vision with a padlock and a chain. He hooked the last link of the chain to the padlock then locked the chain to the buckle of the collar around my neck. With that in place he led the chain to the frame of the bed and with another padlock chained me to the bed.

"This is your kennel bitch you can not go beyond the light." He wiggled the chain in my face then dropped it to the bed and moved back down behind me. "Here is where you will remain until properly broken." I could hear the smirk in his voice as he patted my ass. "If you misbehave you will be corrected and when you are good you will be rewarded."

I felt him moving around behind me and could only think that none of this was rewarding. I was in hell; I didn't know where I was, who had me, and what his plans for me were. I knew if I asked I would be beat so I had no choice but to wait and hope someone would find me and find me soon.

I suddenly felt another leather like collar wrapped around my thigh just above my knee on my left leg then another one placed on my right thigh.

He moved up beside me with another piece of leather with a small bar attached and wrapped the leather band around my wrist with a padlock; he then repeated the process with my other wrist. I could feel the pull of the two bars between my wrists and my thighs and easily figured the point. It was to make me crawl or force me to constantly be bent over or squatting if standing up.




Retribution



Once that was done he placed another set of leather collars on my ankles. I could hear him chaining something to the foot of the bed and easily figured it was my feet to keep me from going anywhere for the time being.

It was at this point that I really began to feel my stress and panic levels rise and was partly shocked that it took this long for the panic to start.

However when I felt him slide something between my ass cheeks seeking out my little hole I could in no way keep my mouth shut.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?! Stop that!" I jerked trying to break free but found with my feet bound to the bed and my wrists to my thighs I was very limited in my movements. "Let me go you perverted son of a bitch!"

A scream tore from my throat when I felt the leather laid across my ass buckle side down followed by at least a hundred more hits. Though I knew it was only twenty based on him counting each one off but to me it felt like a hundred.

I could feel the blood trickling down the backs of my legs flowing nearly as fast as the tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Do you have anything else to say?" He questioned mockingly.

I shook my head keeping silent wanting to prevent him from hitting me further and causing more pain.

"Good girl." He purred and wiped down my bloody ass in a none to gentle fashion. "If you were a good bitch I wouldn't have to punish you." He sighed in mock disappointment though I could hear it in his voice that he enjoyed beating me.

I again felt him pressing the thing against my hole until my muscles which I was squeezing tight were forced apart and the thing slid right in. I heard a click and felt the warm water begin to trickle in filling my insides. I gave a small squirm with a clench of my muscles trying to dislodge the thing only for it to remain right where it was.

I suddenly gasped when I felt his large hand wrap around my flaccid cock with a cool jelly in his palm and begin to stroke me slowly up and down. I could feel the warming sensation from the jelly and along with the movement of his hand I could in no way prevent my body from responding.

Before I knew it I was as hard as a rock, trying to thrust against the hand working me over, and moaning lightly in pleasure. I was so close to spilling my seed all over the bed that a moan of pain passed my lips when he stopped jerking me off.

I squirmed miserably against the burning need in my gut along with the filling of my bowels only to be forced to suffer further when he slipped a cock ring on me. I whimpered pleadingly only to be ignored.

"Don't worry girl you'll get yours." He purred from behind me then stabbed a needle deep into my hip.

It didn't hurt as much as being beat with a belt but it did sting like a bitch. I don't know what he injected me with and was tempted to ask but knew better. Besides I wasn't feeling any effects from it so whatever it was it wasn't a concern at the moment anyway.

"I'll be back to change your bottle." He chuckled and gave a flick to the tube sticking out of my ass then left the room leaving me to wonder what he was going to do to me next.



Retribution



Margaret Blake turned the key to her house in the East End of London. It was Friday evening and she was tired. It had been a long week at the supermarket where she worked on the till. She was thirty-eight, a single mother, with an eighteen year old son, Joey, who was unemployed. His main preoccupation was hanging around with Tony Spencer and his gang. They were a gang of five or six youths in their twenties that terrorised the shopkeepers and also ran drugs. This, she knew, would lead to trouble. Her fears came true in an unexpected way.

As soon as Margaret entered the house, she knew there was something wrong. She could smell cigarette smoke. It came from the living room. When she went in, she saw Tony Spencer sitting in the armchair puffing away.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house?"

"Hallo, Mrs. Blake, or is it Miss? I'm never quite sure."

"I asked you what you're doing in my house, get out."

Tony simply ignored her.

"Where's Joey?"

"I thought he was with you. He hasn't been here for several days."

"He's hiding somewhere and I want to know where."

Something in his voice chilled Margaret.

"Get out of here before I phone the police," and she reached for her handbag to retrieve her mobile phone. A hand suddenly grabbed her arm and another forced her handbag to the ground. She was held by two of the young men.

"Please, you've got to believe me, I don't know where he is," she whimpered.

Tony walked over to her.

"You are telling the truth, aren't you?"

"What's this all about?"

"It's about the five thousand pounds your precious son owes me."

Margaret was shocked.

"What? How?"

"He was carrying a 'shipment' for me. When he saw cops he panicked, dumped it and ran. I want my money."

"I haven't that sort of money. With what I earn I barely break even."

Tony nodded and one of the youths produced a knife, placing it to her throat. He began to open Margaret's blouse, button by button.

"Please, don't do this," she begged.

"You're not a bad looking woman, Margaret," as the last button was opened, revealing her plain black bra. He sliced through it with his knife, as if it were butter and the nipples of her medium breasts hardened as they made contact with the cold air.

"Please. I've told you all I know."

"I know you have, but I have to make an example. How do you think it would be on my reputation if I didn't?" and his mouth engulfed her right breast and he sucked enthusiastically. At the same time, Margaret felt the belt of her jeans opened and both they and her plain knickers were forced to the ground.

"Oh God. No, please," yelled Margaret.

"What neatly trimmed pussy," said another of the young men as he knelt and began to ravage her with his tongue. She felt something hard being pushed up her arse, obviously a hardened cock, and she was pounded mercilessly. 

Tony, meanwhile, licked between her breasts and settled on her left breast, once again sucking and licking with vigour. Margaret closed her eyes, in a vain hope that somehow it would take away the pain of her ordeal. She could feel a burning sensation as hot cum exploded inside her arse, making her yell out. 

The licking and sucking of her breasts stopped too, and the young man licking her pussy was pulled away by Tony. It was only a temporary reprieve, however, as Tony then drove his large, hardened cock deep inside her, making Margaret scream in pain.

Tony's rhythm was slow at first, but then gradually built with each movement. As much as she tried, Margaret was unable to stop her body reacting to Tony's movements and her love juices began to built. She was lost in the lust and began to moan deeply. Eventually, Tony came just as her juices flowed, leaving them both breathless.

At that moment, they were all startled by a mature sounding female voice from behind.

"What the hell are you doing to my daughter?" 

It was a woman in her mid fifties, well dressed, large breasts and slim figure. Having pulled up and zipped his pants, Tony walked over to her and grabbed her by her hair, making her yell.

"Where's your precious grandson?"

"Mom?" screamed Margaret but she was pushed into a chair, with a knife at her throat.

"I don't know. I swear," responded the frightened woman.

"What's your name, granny?"

"Paula. Paula Jacobs. Please, I don't know where he is."

Tony began to feel under her skirt and rub her pussy through her knickers and tights.

"No, please."

"Amuse yourselves with mom," and Tony and two others dragged Paula upstairs to a bedroom and was she helpless as she heard her daughter's muffled screams. Paula tried to resist as they started to strip her but Tony punched her hard in her stomach and she was subdued. Her blouse, skirt, slip, bra and knickers ended up in a small pile on the floor. Tony held her down and one of the other gang members mounted her and forced her unwilling mouth to accept his cock.

"Suck, you bitch," yelled Tony, "Or I'll beat you to pulp."

A terrified Paula conformed and began to suck the huge organ. At the same time she felt a huge cock enter her pussy and began rhythmically push in and out. Tony sucked on the woman's huge breasts with relish.

Paula's head was systematically bobbed up and down as she continued to suck hard. The pounding of her pussy too, took on a rhythm; even Tony's licking and sucking of her breasts were systematic. As the rhythms picked up pace, Paula became absorbed in her own lust. The tingling of her nipples excited her. The cock drilling her pussy caused her juices to gather with speed and her sucking the huge dick was an added bonus for her. She not had sex for many years since her husband had left her and although she had been forced to do this, she did not want it to end.

Eventually her mouth was flooded as the cum flowed wildly and at almost the same time, hot cum erupted inside her pussy and juiced flowed as if to meet them, creating a sensation of joy she had not had for years. Paula was brought back to reality when Tony spoke to her.

"Well, for an old woman, you are quite a fuck. I think you even enjoyed it. Let's get her downstairs and see what the others are up to," and Paula was dragged, naked down to the living room.

At the same time as her mother was dragged to the bedroom, Margaret Blake, naked, dazed and exhausted, was forced to her knees. Another huge cock was forced into her mouth, stifling her protests and she was forced to give hand jobs to the two remaining youths. Gradually she developed a rhythm with both her hands and mouth. "Mmmm" was all she could utter. 

When the youths came in her hands, they quickly rubbed it onto her naked breasts and her head was yanked back, forcing her to swallow the cum in her mouth. She fell, exhausted, to the ground. Almost at that moment, Tony and the others appeared and a naked Paula Jacobs was thrown down beside her naked daughter. They huddled each other in shame or embarrassment.

"You two could do with a wash."

The youths laughed. Tony nodded and the nude women were dragged to the shower and hurled into it. The women screamed as jets of hot, steamy hit them.

"Nothing like two naked birds having a shower, eh Benny?"

"No, except if we join them."

They all laughed.

"Well, we haven't time for that. Good thought though. You got away lightly this time ladies. Tell that bastard that if he doesn't come up with the five thousand, you'll be having more than just sex," and they all left the house.

When they got outside, Benny spoke. "Tony, what if they go to the police?"

"They won't. Not without implicating that little wimp."

*********

Two days later, Tony Spencer received a phone call from a friend. Joey Blake had been seen on the other side of town. Judging by the description of the woman he was staying with, Tony deduced it was Frances Portman, Margaret Blake's sister and therefore Joey's aunt. Frances Portman was tall, slender woman with long black hair. She owned a successful hairdressers. Of these sisters, Tony thought Frances was the more sexy, dressing in skirts and blouses, seldom in pants. She was a tease.

The following day he got the gang together and drove in his van to Frances' house. Her car was in the drive, so Tony knew she was there. He signalled two of the gang to work their way around the back. Tony calmly walked up to the door and rang the bell. The door was opened by Frances Portman. Realising who it was, she tried to close it and yelled at Joey to run but it was too late. Tony jammed the door with his foot and pushed it in and Joey ran out of the back, into the arms of the two youths waiting for him. Both he and his aunt were herded into the living room.

"Ok. Let's not get excited," said Tony, admiring Frances Portman standing there in her skirt, blouse and knee high black boots.

"You bastard. I'll call the police."

Tony picked up the receiver and handed it to her.

"Be my guest. Before you do though you better ask yourself are you prepared to send this little bastard down?"

Frances hesitated and Tony replaced the receiver.

"I thought not," he responded with a grin.

"Look Tony, I'm sorry about the shipment..."

"Fuck the shipment. I want the five thousand you cost me."

"I- I don't have that sort of money," stuttered Joey in shock.

"I can get you the money," said Frances.

"That's good. Let's go."

"I can't get it now. The bank is closed but I can get it first thing in the morning."

"Well it looks like we have a whole night to kill. Boys, keep your eyes on the fugitive here. You come with me," pointing to Frances.

The others sniggered, realising what was about to happen.

Joey leapt to his feet yelling, "You bastard," as he launched himself at Tony Spencer. Two of the gang caught him and proceeded to punch him hard.

"No, Joey, don't. It's ok," said his aunt.

"That's enough for now lads. Remember, he's no good to us dead."

They all laughed.

When they reached the bedroom Tony sat on the bed. He observed his prey, dressed in her work attire of white blouse, red knee length skirt with black leather boots that, combined with her skirt almost but not quite hid her tight covered legs.

"You know, I've always thought were sexy. You really know how to tease a man. Always wearing those skirts. Making sure we see your sexy legs, even lowering buttons on your blouse just enough to let us see your tits."

"That's not true," protested Frances.

"Oh please. We all know you fucked Jack Lesley, the assistant bank manager for the cash to start up your business. It's a well known fact, so don't bother denying it.

Frances couldn't deny it. She had fucked him and she had got the money. His wife left him when she found out and he, himself was forced to resign. Frances was forced to pay back the money at an exorbitant rate to keep the bank happy. It almost broke her.

"Look. I told you I'll get the money. Surely that's enough for you?"

"Like I told your sister. I have to make an example, otherwise people might not tow the line."

"You, you fucked Margaret?" stuttered Frances, in shock.

"Yeah. She's not a bad fuck either. In fact, I think she really enjoyed it."

"You sick fuck."

"Look. We're not here to pass judgement on me. Your wimp of a nephew is downstairs and one word from me and he'll be pulverised by the others and believe me, they are only too keen to do the job."

"What do you want, Spencer?"

"I thought that's obvious. Why do you think we're in the bedroom?"

"Alright. Let's get this over with."

"Not so fast, Frances. Lift your skirt."

Reluctantly, she did so. Tony put his hand to the rim of her tights and pulled them down, along with her plain white knickers, to her knees.

"Wow. You keep a nice neat pussy. I always knew I'd get to eat it some day," and he knelt and began to lick and suck at intervals.

Despite her disgust, Frances began to feel a certain pleasure in this gentle probing of her pussy, although she desperately hid it from him. It took a lot of will power to subdue a moan. To her disappointment Tony suddenly stopped.

"Well, enough of that. Get your clothes off. I've always wanted to see you naked and remember, tease me as you tease your lovers."

Humiliated and angry, Frances knew she had no choice. She went over to the music centre, pressed a button and slow sensuous began to play. She moved with the music, in an expert fashion.

'She has clearly had done this before, probably even for Leslie himself,' thought Tony. She discarded her blouse, skirt and boots in the same teasing manner, at the same time smiling as if to please a new lover. She turned her back as she unsnapped her bra and slowly rolled her tights and knickers down. Pausing for a few seconds, she wiggled her shapely arse. When she turned to face Tony he was already naked and his hard on was huge. Tony pushed her on to the bed and climbed on top. He kissed her deeply and began to move down her luscious body, finally settling on his fetish, her enormous breasts. As with her sister, Tony sucked and licked with a crazed sexual energy. Frances couldn't take it any more as she finally exhaled a moan and then another.

"Oooooh," she moaned in a slow sensual tone.

Tony pushed his huge rod into her waiting pussy. The slowly building rhythm suited both. As the speed picked up, the excitement also built in both of them. Their breathing became deeper with each stroke. Their bodies moved in tandem and their body heat created lust that neither were willing or able to pull back from.

Frances could feel that Tony was close to climax and her own orgasm was almost upon her. Finally, an eruption of cum and her own juices made them both gasp for air, as if it were their last. For a few moments both 'lovers' remained motionless, catching their breath. Finally, Tony spoke. "I always knew you were a good fuck. I just didn't realise how good."

He got out of the bed and began to dress. Frances was about to do the same.

"Where do you think you're going? You've got five more of us to service yet. Like I said. We've got a whole night to kill."

"What? Please, no."

Hey listen. Don't blame me, blame it on your wimpy nephew."

Tony walked into the living room. "Ok Benny. You're next, and remember, don't take all night." Everyone else laughed.

"You're Aunt is a great fuck, wimp. No wonder you like hanging out here. How often have you fucked her?"

It was too much for Joey. He sprang at Tony, missing him as he ducked. Tony punched him hard in his stomach and delivered an almost knock out blow to Joey's jaw and he crashed on his back, disorientated. 

"Never lead with your right wimp. It leaves you too open."

All the gang filed up the stairs, one by one and each had their own sexual fantasy fulfilled by Frances Portman. By the time the last was finished it was almost eight in the morning. Tony turned to Joey.

"Well wimp, you didn't answer my question. How often have you fucked her?"

"Never. She's my aunt."

"Never?" responded Tony in a mock tone of surprise. "We'll have to remedy that." He went up to the bedroom. Frances was lying there, totally exhausted. He threw her a dressing gown. "Put it on and get downstairs."

Frances did as she was told. She was shocked to see Joey all bruised.

"He had a little accident," smiled Tony. "He tells me you two never fucked before. Well that's about to change."

"Oh no. Please. Don't do this," begged Frances Portman but it was to no avail as Tony ripped open the front of her gown revealing to Joey her bodily nakedness for the very first time.

"Hey look. The wimp's turned on," yelled one of the gang.

"Unfortunately we don't time for you to get your full jollies wimp," said Tony as he forced Frances over the coffee table, lifting the hem of her gown and exposing her naked arse to her nephew.

"Ok wimp. Start fucking her arse."

"No. I wont do it," screamed Joey.

He was punched several times. Frances cried out.

"Joey. Please, do what they want. Just close your eyes and pretend I'm someone else."

"Listen to your sexy aunt wimp. Just close your eyes and pretend she's your girlfriend."

Joey placed his hands on Frances' bare hips and gently inserted his hardened dick into her arse. He began to push in and out slowly. The others began to shout and clap.

"In, out, in out," they taunted, each taunt increased in speed, as did Joey's rhythm.

For Frances, this was something new and she certainly never even dream of being arse fucked by her young nephew. The sensation of this pounding made her tingle. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, hoping to hide any sign of sexual pleasure. The burning sensation of Joey's hot cum flowing into her arse made her exclaim a subdued moan and Joey was left breathless.

"Well wimp. You finally did it. You fucked your aunt." They all laughed.

Tony grabbed Frances by the arm. "Come on you little whore. We've got a date at the bank. Get cleaned up and dressed."

In the shower, Frances scrubbed and scrubbed like she never did before. She enjoyed sex enormously but this was different. She had been violated in every way possible. Even her own nephew had been forced to fuck her arse. Although she wouldn't openly admit it, She had rather enjoyed breaking that taboo, although she would much prefer to have done so on her terms. She went to her bedroom covered in a large bath towel, only to see Tony Spencer sitting on the bed.

"Can I at least have some privacy while I change?"

"Just get fucking dressed," responded Tony, in a not too sympathetic manner.

As she took her tights, Tony pulled them from her hand. "You wont need them, any way, I don't have all day."

Finally the they came down the stairs and Tony turned to one of the gang.

"Benny, keep an eye on the wimp. We won't be long. They both left house.

"Give me the keys to your car and then get in the passenger side," demanded Tony. He drove to the bank car park.

"Give me your knickers."

"What?"

Tony put his hand under her skirt.

"All right, all right," protested Frances and eased them down and handed them to him. Tony sniffed them and smiled. They both got out of the car. Frances felt naked as she felt a cold puff of air drift up her skirt. Tony grabbed her by the arm just before they reached the door. "Remember. No funny stuff or the wimp gets it and you won't come out of it smelling of roses either, trust me."

After signing the withdrawal slip, the cashier put the fresh notes neatly into an envelope and both Frances and Tony left and drove back to her house.

"Ok boys. We've got what we came for. As I told your mother wimp, you got away lightly this time. Next time it wont be so 'pleasurable'." He put a sarcastic emphasis on the last word and all of the gang laughed.

Once again anger raged in Joey and he hurled himself at Tony. Two of the gang caught him and held. Tony proceeded to punch him without mercy.

"No. Please," screamed Frances as she tried to stop him but was held by another gang member. Tony finally stopped and Joey fell in agony to the ground, gasping for air. Frances was released and went to her nephew's aid, holding him like a caring mother. She looked up in anger at Tony.

"You fucking bastards."

Tony bent over and put his hand to her chin.

"Yeah. You're probably right. We are that. But like I said before, you're a good fuck. We'll probably have to do this again sometime, and if I know the wimp, and I do, we will. We'll see ourselves out. Come on boys," and they left the house, filing into the van and driving away, left Frances cradling her stricken nephew.



Retribution



The Angel of Death sped on midnight wings as the dying rays of the setting sun disappeared upon the horizon behind her. Catching an updraft she was lifted effortlessly high above the city, giving her a better vantage point to locate her prey. The rooftops of the sprawling desert city were all beginning to look the same, but no matter, the man she was after would not be found within one of the cookie-cutter, gated communities, she was headed to a seedier part of town.

Soon the homes she passed became smaller, some little more than shacks, then even they gave way to the burnt-out husks of building that were once the heart of the industrial part of the city, now left to rot and crumble. 

Here, she knew, her target would be.

The angel folded her wings close to her slender body, dropping like a stone through the cooling air before landing gently upon a rooftop. Her bare feet barely made a sound as she padded across the worn surface, still warm after the heat of day. She'd descended two flights of rotting stairs before she found him, balled up and rocking in a far corner, obscured by shadow.

"Ambrose."

Her melodious voice filled his ears, snapping him out of his drug-induced stupor to stare in awe as she stepped within a shaft of light. Her tiny body, clothed in nothing more than a few strategically placed bands of black leather, nearly glowed as if from within, porcelain skin soft and unmarred. A black cloak, edges in tatters, swayed gently as she stepped, hood obscuring the majority of her face. It was slung haphazardly across the left side of her body, but on the right, pristine black feathers reflected the light at her side. As she approached him, the massive wings pulled up and back, revealing the dark angel in all her glory. 

Ambrose was dumbfounded, unable to pry his eyes from her devastatingly lovely form.

"Ambrose," she said again, stepping in to kneel in front of him.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered, wide eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Are you an angel?"

"No," she breathed, "I am the gatherer. I've come to collect."

He was pitiful, she thought. Brown hair too long, mussed and neglected. His once clear, near black eyes were glazed over and bloodshot, framed by a five-o-clock shadow and a dirty face. He still had on the remnants of a business suit, now filthy and torn, jacket lost long ago and shirt unbuttoned. His still muscular body was bare beneath, showing the pride and care he once took upon himself. His left sleeve had been shorn off above the elbow, revealing a bruised and track-marked arm.

"Tell him I'll have it tomorrow," Ambrose groaned.

"It's not your money I want, but your soul." 

The girl brought a slender white hand up and removed her hood, revealing piercing eyes, a blue-rimmed silver. Ambrose couldn't help but bring one of his large, shaking hands up to her face, tracing a finger along the jaw line. Surprisingly, she allowed it.

"What's your name?" he asked, voice raspy from disuse.

"Rook." Hers, on the contrary, was clear as wind chimes.

Ambrose stood then, the girl following suit. He was easily two heads taller than her, body heavily laden with muscle. Rook found him quite attractive for a mortal man who was about to die. She took her two tiny hands, and placed then on either side of his rough-skinned face, index fingers at his temples, and closed her eyes. In no time at all she was within his mind, seeing the chain of events that had brought him here in the first place.

Three weeks ago he had been a happy, successful man. Ambrose Little worked in a huge skyscraper encased in mirrored glass on the edge of the city, putting in long hours and bringing home fat paychecks to his trophy wife. 

He was content with the life he'd built for them until one day, after coming home early, he caught her in bed with another man. Ambrose was furious.

"I worked so hard to give you everything, everything! And this is how you repay me?" he'd shouted at her. She didn't even have the decency to beg forgiveness.

"I hate being here alone, this huge house with nothing but money to comfort me. It doesn't buy happiness, Ambrose! And it doesn't buy love!"

"You think that's what that is? Sneaking around with some punk kid who works for minimum wage? Is that your idea of love?"

His pretty blonde wife had looked to the boy next to her, tanned from the sun and well-built due to hours of manual labor, but he did not look back. 

He stared instead at the richly carpeted floor beside the bed, the sheen of their lovemaking just beginning to dry upon his skin. She hesitated a moment, then rose from the sheets, her surgically altered body completely nude. 

"Ambrose, I made a mistake," she started.

It was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? For her to beg him for mercy? To forgive her, and she'd never do it again, and she's sorry, and she loves him, wont he just look at her? But all Ambrose heard was pitiful lies, and he bored into her with his eyes like hot pokers. He'd heard enough, seen enough. There was no forgiveness here, for her or the boy who could not look either of them in the face. Ambrose turned sharply on his heel, and stormed down the hall into his office. In the third drawer of his mahogany desk lay the solution to all his problems, and Ambrose felt the thrill of an adrenalin rush before he even touched it.

The trigger guard was unlocked and dropped upon the floor as Ambrose held the Glock in his hand, spinning to storm back down the hallway. His wife had been arguing with the boy, asking why he couldn't act like a man and stand up to him, that she thought they had something good going, and didn't feel anything for her? She was practically shrieking when Ambrose walked back in. She quieted when she saw the gun.

"What are you doing?" she asked, barely more than a whisper.

"Fixing this little problem."

The boy had slid out of bed while Ambrose had his back to him, and was creeping along the wall towards the door, but he'd heard the sheets rustle when the boy left them, and knew exactly where he was heading. Ambrose turned and fired so quickly the look of shock was still crossing the boy's face as he slumped to the floor, bullet between the eyes.

Ambrose walked up to his wife, now backing up against the wall in horror, and pressed his lips to hers before sending a bullet into her chest. One broken heart deserves another.

The subsequent weeks had been a blur, he turned to drugs, left his house in shambles, gambled and drank away most of what had been in his bank account. Somehow he had ended up here, in a decrepit old factory building, shooting heroin and wondering what had happened to his life.

As Rook backed out of his mind, she came to realize his hands were upon her. He'd snaked them around her waist, holding her close with his head dipped near to her own. She should have been offended, furious, but she was not, instead his skin warmed hers and she found a sort of sick comfort within his embrace. 

Help me, his eyes begged hers as he brought his head back around to face her, and something within called out to her. She wanted to be with him.

For centuries she'd been collecting souls and never felt a twinge of anything more than contempt for these disgusting, self-abusing strangers. But here he was, touching her with calloused hands, the way no one has ever done before, and she liked it. 

Rook drew up on her toes, and allowed her bee-stung lips to touch his, and that slightest touch was all it took to break the floodgates within herself. Her arms wrapped up and around his neck as Ambrose deepened their kiss, pulling her against his body with crushing strength. His muscular chest heaved against her soft, round breasts, and Rook reveled in the sensation of his skin upon hers. Holding her aloft with one arm, Ambrose deftly removed her cloak with the other, sliding it up over her head and twisting his fingers into her windblown hair. Rook peeled the remnants of his shirt from his shoulders, and it fell into the rapidly growing pool of clothes at their feet. 

Ambrose turned, then, pushing Rook up against a concrete pillar which stood in the center of the desolate room, and she followed suit by wrapping her long legs around his torso. Their hands were more or less free now to roam and explore each other's bodies, and Ambrose slipped one beneath the leather thong about her breasts, fingering a nipple between thumb and forefinger. Rook gasped and her hips bucked against him, increasing both of their desires.

Her fingers moved nimbly down his sculpted torso and along the top of his suit pants, unhooking the button and clasp holding them in place. Ambrose held her aloft beneath her bottom as he stepped out of the clothing, his growing manhood barely contained by silken boxers. He turned, Rook held securely in his arms, and laid her gently among the mass of discarded clothing, her wings creating a cushion of feathers large enough to easily hold them both. He removed his shorts, and then pulled away the remaining barrier between them, leaving Rook in stark white contrast against the void of black feathers. 

Prolonging the moment, Ambrose took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking and gently nipping at the little nub, as his roving hands landed between her thighs. He cupped the delicate mound of flesh within his large palm, Rook squirming beneath him, her fingers wrapped in his hair and bringing his lips to hers. She spread herself eagerly for him, but he would not take her yet, instead inserting his fingers into her moist folds and rubbing with his thumb. 

Rook, never knowing the touch of a man before, was beside herself in ecstasy. Her body moved as if with a mind of its own, squirming and thrusting against his hand, her breath starting to come in little pants. 

When she thought she could stand no more, he finally stopped. Rook wrapped her legs around his buttocks, drawing him in until his aching phallus touched her vaginal lips. She knew they both wanted nothing more at this point than to loose themselves within each other, and he wasted no more than half a second before plunging deep within the recesses of her body. 

Rook's body arched up against his own, and Ambrose wrapped an arm beneath the small of her back, holding her close as they began to rhythmically move together.

Rook was filled near to bursting with Ambrose's large member, which seemed to grow only larger as he thrust within. The sensations from inside her body had completely taken over her mind, and the only goal now was release. Rook matched him stroke for stroke, digging her nails into his back and crying out in the sheer joy of the thing. Ambrose grunted next to her ear before pulling the little lobe into his mouth, sending her even closer to the edge. She soon felt him swell to indescribable size, filling her to capacity and setting her off like a rocket. As his warm seed spread within, Rook cried out in orgasm, clutching him as close to her as possible, their bodies shaking and convulsing against one another. 

Finally she laid back, tight muscles beginning to relax as Ambrose gazed upon her from above. "That was incredible," she whispered, panting and out of breath. Ambrose smiled above her, kissing her lips one last time before pulling out, the cumulative juices of their lovemaking pooling beneath her. 

She sighed contentedly.

"Amazing," she reveled.

But as Rook sat up, she realized something was horribly wrong. Ambrose, still in a daze both from the drugs and the sex, had not yet noticed. The pile of feathers beneath them now was just that- a pile of loose pitch black feathers. Her wings were gone.

"Weren't those..." he started.

"Yes." Rook didn't need him to state the obvious. Her coupling with him had been a sin, and she'd paid dearly.

Whatever tenderness Rook had felt in the afterglow was gone now, and it was back to business as usual. She pushed him aside, shimmying into the leathers and cloak, ignoring his pleading for her to come lay back down with him. She wandered over to the corner he'd been laying in when she'd first arrived, finding several syringes and the bag of heroin he'd been shooting from. She gathered up his meager supplies, and carried them over to where he lay amid her fallen feathers. 

"What are you doing love?" he asked, as Rook carefully cooked and drew the narcotic up into the syringe, several doses more than he'd been used to.

Without looking into his face, she grabbed his needle-tracked arm and pushed the syringe into it, immediately getting the blood return from the vein. Rook hesitated only a moment before pushing the plunger. 

Within seconds Ambrose's pupils dilated and he let out a sigh, before letting his head loll back. She let his increasingly heavy body drop back onto the floor, as his breathing slowed and his heart stopped. Job done.

Rook padded down the remaining two flights of stairs, past the graffiti covered walls and junk strewn rooms, onto the brick street below. Outside, a black Harley Davidson was propped against the stone wall of the building, looking like it had been laid over more than once. She propped it up and settled in on it, and despite it's haggard appearance it started up on the first try. Rook was pulling away as Ambrose was taking his last breath.

By the time the paramedics found him her feathers would be scattered by the wind across the city, and she would be far gone from here. The Harley picked up speed as she raced out of town, the sensation so close to flying. 

She was almost contented, as she mentally received her next hit.

At least she'd not fallen completely out of the Reaper's good graces, she thought as she sped off, leaving Ambrose and his memory behind.



Retribution.



Toni had been a freelance photographer for nearly three years, ever since walking out on her job as a photo journalist for a national newspaper because of some over-intrusive pictures she was asked to take. There were some aspects of a person's life that she considered should remain private, and so she began working for herself. Now, at the age of twenty-eight, she had the freedom to take whatever shots appealed to her, specializing mainly in landscape and the great outdoors, anything scenic and whimsical. 

Her current project was a coffee table book based on the countryside of southwest England, and what she as looking for on this particular day was a shot of a derelict agricultural building of some kind, a barn would be good, or a stable, or even an old abandoned farmhouse, something with a bit of character, something moody. She didn't want anything too spooky, although she was looking for a bit of atmosphere, but just the right place was proving hard to find. So far she'd driven miles without finding what she wanted, and now time was marching on and she was worried that she would have to call a halt for the day. 

Right now would be ideal if she could only find somewhere. With the sun low and the shadows long, and with the summer brightness mellowed by evening there would be a lot of potential. Golden light on red brick would be good, or a sunset through the broken walls of a long abandoned yard. Anything like that would give her something to work with and her photographer's eye could do the rest. 

Then, just as she was about to give up for the day she spotted the ideal place, an old deserted farmhouse complete with derelict buildings, just what she was looking for. She pulled her car into a weed speckled, brick paved yard and parked. 

Normally she would have at least made an attempt to obtain permission, but time was against her and she decided to risk being classed as a trespasser and just go ahead anyway. There was nobody in sight, except a tractor working the field behind the farm and even that was heading away from her, the bright red shirt of its driver receding into the distance.

She grabbed her camera bag and headed for the barns, looking with her photographer's eye for the most atmospheric, the one that would yield the 'stop them in their tracks' photo that would complete her book. Instinct told her to head for an old cowshed, with a broken pantiled roof and half door hanging at a crazy angle. The angle of the sun and the position of the holes in the roof, rafters crosshatched with laths would surely shine agreeably on something within. 

But for some reason she found herself heading for the shed next door, an old workshop with a workbench down one side and a table pushed up against it in the middle. The bench was littered with the dirty detritus of long abandoned repairs, oil cans and paint tins were still stacked on shelves, but other than that the place was empty. She stood for a few moments looking in through the door, trying to see what had pulled her towards this particular spot, but there seemed nothing photogenic, nothing that leapt out at her as 'the' photo. She frowned and tried to remember what she was thinking when she was first directed to this place, to remember what it was that had triggered the impulse. She stepped through the door into the already cool interior, looking around, confused and feeling let down by an apparent failure of her professional eye.

There was nothing here, nothing that stood out except a couple of dirty rucksacks piled into one corner, and nothing except the girl standing in the corner, a pale dark haired girl in her late teens or early twenties, dressed in a white shift dress and gazing silently at Toni with sad brown eyes. At the time it didn't seem at all out of the ordinary that a girl should be standing alone in a tumbledown farmyard. It did later, when she had the time to mull over the events of the day in the bright light of hindsight, but right then it seemed the most natural thing in the world. 

Nor did it seem unusual for the girl to walk silently across to her and put her arms around her, looking up with her lips parted for a kiss. Impelled forward by some force that she was unable to comprehend, heterosexual Toni allowed herself to be embraced, allowed her own arms to go around the girl, and lowered her own mouth to kiss that of another girl. Her mind was spinning, inside she was alarmed by what was happening, but her heart started to race, her legs turned to jelly and she felt a burst of adrenalin run through her from an unexpected sensation of pure pleasure. She had never kissed a girl before, nor ever wanted to, but now she wanted the kiss to last forever, and if it went further then she would welcome it, even though her conscious mind rebelled against the idea. 

The passion of the kiss was hot, but the girl's lips were cool, almost to the point of being cold, and her hands felt cold through her thin blouse, but although it registered, once again Toni found nothing untoward in the fact. The girl had, after all, been standing in the damp shade of a derelict workshop. Toni kissed her back, parting her lips to allow the cool tongue to explore her mouth, whimpering softly with delight and then pressing her own tongue between the stranger's lips to return the pleasure.  

She felt slim fingers tugging at her blouse, trying to pull it clear of her waistband, and she breathed in automatically to help, shivering slightly as the cool evening air and cooler hands found her skin even before the blouse was released, the hands running around under the material to stroke her back. It wasn't right, something in the back of her mind insisted it was wrong, but it felt so good.

Her own hands were flat against the girl's back, feeling the smoothness of her bare skin, The fact that the girl as now naked, that her simple dress had disappeared unaided didn't bother her, and nor did the two other girls who were now watching from the far end of the workshop. There was obviously something weird happening, her logical mind told her, but that didn't matter, it was too nice to matter and they weren't about to harm her.

The two new girls stepped forward, walking silently towards her, their clothes dissolving as they advanced so that by the time they had joined their friend and Toni in what amounted to a group hug, they too were completely naked.

Toni spread her arms to enfold the newcomers, smiling happily as she turned her face first one way and then the other to receive deep and ardent kisses from each of them in turn. Their hands had found their way into Toni's clothing, six cool gentle hands playing over her skin, going everywhere and anywhere, unhampered by clothing that had not been removed, touching her breasts, her nipples, the flat of her stomach, even the twin orbs of her bottom. One hand made it between her legs from the front, while another investigated her from behind, both finding her pussy and sliding inside her at the same time. She groaned and spread her knees awkwardly, trying to give the girls room that they clearly didn't need.

She was getting rapidly turned on, her nipples were hardening and her pussy was reacting to these double invasion by lubricating copiously. She didn't understand what was happening and nor did she care, she was in ecstasy, offering her mouth to any of the silent trio to kiss whenever they wanted to, surrendering to their magical touches, even draping her own arms over the shoulders of two of them so as not to hamper their explorations. But all the time, behind the pleasure she could detect darker undertones, not directed against her, but definitely present. What was happening had a purpose, and that purpose seemed simply to be to make her want a man inside her. It was, she thought, a shame that girls just don't have the necessary equipment, because her need to be fucked was growing by the moment. It was as if something inside her head was urging her on, making her want it, telling her that sex with a man was now the most important thing in her life. The fluttering caresses of these beautifully anonymous girls were fabulous, but they couldn't beat a good old fashioned fuck. God, how she ached for a cock. Never mind, the girls would make her come soon anyway, and that would relieve the pressure.

It was as if that thought was a trigger, as if giving her an orgasm was not the purpose, only to arouse her to the edge of desperate frustration, for at that point she became aware that the hands on her body were fading away, the mouth that was pressed against hers was becoming softer, until abruptly her arms that had been on shoulders fell to her sides and she was alone, her sexy companions gone without trace or explanation.

For several seconds she stood confused and panting, looking down at her undisturbed clothing, feeling her bullet nipples pushing against the inside of her bra and the wetness from her pussy on her briefs. It had not been a dream - she was sure it hadn't been a dream, if only because she was so turned on it was unreal. But she still wanted to fuck, no matter how she had got to that state, in fact she needed to fuck, she was desperate to have a man fuck her. That's it, said the voice in her mind, go and find yourself the man, find the man who wants to fuck you and bring him back here. Bring him back here to do it. The man with the red shirt.

She didn't understand, the implications of her own thoughts, if such they were, had escaped her. All her focus was on finding herself a cock. She stumbled out into the yard, looking around her almost frantically, searching for a man, any man. No, not any man, the man, the right man, the one who could satisfy everything. In the field the tractor was working steadily back down the rows, a haze of dust following it, the man in the red shirt looking over his shoulder at what he was doing.

He's the one I need, she thought. He's the one for today. Yes, he's the one, her mind agreed, he's the one, and he's the one we need. She stood out on the edge of the field and waved urgently at him through the gathering twilight, not knowing or caring what he looked like, how old he was, if he was married, or anything just so long as he wasn't gay. But somehow she already knew he wasn't, and she knew that he'd be more than willing to take her, but on his own terms. His arm rose in answer to her wave, but his machine carried on down the row, coming towards her all right but so damn slowly. Couldn't he see how frustrated she was, how much she was gagging for it.

Finally the tractor coughed to a halt and he climbed down looking at her curiously. He was handsome enough in a rough red faced farmer kind of way, heavily built, a couple of decades older than Toni, his brown hair heavily shot with grey. He was smiling a confident, chauvinistic smile as he came towards her, hands thrust into his jeans pockets.

'You know this is private land I suppose?' He asked her calmly. 'What is it that you're after?

'A good strong man like you would be a good start.' She played up to his macho man demeanour, instinctively knowing that he'd go for it.'

He cocked his head on one side. 'And just what do you want a strong man for?'

'Now, what do you think?' She raised an eyebrow and thrust one hip forward provocatively.

'Like that is it?' His grin was getting broader by the minute.

'Very much.' She answered, answering his smile with one of her own.

It was against her nature to act so provocatively with a stranger, or with anyone for that matter. But then it was against her nature to feel so damn randy. She supposed she had those three girls to thank for that. She drew a deep breath, the memory of those wandering hands so recently touching her was only increasing her frustration, even though she didn't have a clue where they had come from, or where they had gone so mysteriously. That was a puzzle for later, right now the answer to her disappointment stood in front of her. He was the right man for it; she knew he was the right man, though she wasn't sure exactly what 'it' was. Her mind was carrying fragments of dark thoughts, but she couldn't make a whole picture out of them. All she knew for sure was that this man would fuck her like she'd never been fucked before, and that was what she wanted. She'd wanted it ever since the strange girls had planted the idea in her mind, along with the knowledge that it had to be this man, and no other.

'Well, I suppose we'd better see what we can do about that then, hadn't we?'

He came forward and grabbed her, his arms encircling her and his mouth suddenly covering hers, forcing her lips apart for his tongue to force its way between them. She couldn't help but respond, pushing herself against him and letting her tongue fence with his.

'My, you really do need a man, don't you?' He was surprised at her fervour. 'Come on in here and we'll soon sort you out.' 

He gripped her by one arm and almost frogmarched her into the workshop, pulling her along although she'd not shown any sign of reluctance. She had no idea why, but somehow she'd known that this is where he'd bring her. At least it was still reasonably dry, unlike some of the deserted buildings.

'Lets get rid of some of those fancy clothes, we don't want them in the way, now do we?' 

He didn't give her the chance to unfasten anything, his hands reached out and tore her blouse open, buttons popping across the floor. A surge of adrenalin and lust shot through her, and she stood breathing heavily and faced him, as if defying him to do more. 

'Come on, let's get a look at those boobies.'

Again his hands came out, pushing her bra up and letting her breasts fall free, her hard nipples catching painfully on the underwire as it went past. He grabbed at them, squeezing and mauling them, making her wince at his rough handling.

'So, you don't like it too rough then?' He grinned at her pained expression.

'Not too much.' She confirmed, wondering about the little voice in her head that was telling her it would get much more intense yet. 'But you can fuck me if you don't hurt me.'

'I can fuck you anyway, and I'm going to. Just don't try and spoil my fun if you don't want to get hurt. After all.' He reminded her. 'You called me over.'

Even through the haze of lust that had enveloped her she could sense a note of menace in his voice, a note even more threatening than his words. She shivered, partly from arousal and partly from fear, although she wouldn't have liked to have separated them. He gripped each nipple between finger and thumb and pulled her to him squeezing and twisting until she cried out with pain. His kiss this time was almost predatory, but she responded just the same, her control given over to the voice in her head that kept telling her to go on, to let him believe he was in control. 'Funny' she thought on another rather frightened level, because he is.

He stepped back a pace and looked at her, eyeing up her breasts and then letting his gaze wander down, fixing on her skirt where it covered her pussy. She knew what he was thinking and what he wanted, and so she reached down and undid her belt, unfastening her skirt and letting it fall to the floor. He watched her and nodded, indicating her briefs with the wave of a hand. 

'And those.'

She was not quick enough. The conflict inside her head made her hesitate just those few seconds, the few seconds that caused him to reach out, grab the waistband of her briefs and tear them from her, the sudden unexpected force and the jolt when the nylon of her briefs gave way sending her sprawling on the dirty workshop floor. He threw the remains of her underwear away and stood over her. She rolled onto her back and spread her legs, showing herself to him and inviting him to take her, part of her mind rebelling at the action, but the other, unfamiliar part urging her on, increasing her arousal, reminding her how much she needed him to fuck her.

'Get up.'

She climbed to her feet and stood in front of him, the torn blouse and displaced bra her only clothing, and watched warily as he undid his fly. He fiddled inside his clothing bending a little to ease his cock from its hiding place, and then straightened, his long uncircumcised cock standing proud between his fingers.

'This is what you want, isn't it. You want it bad, don't you?'

She nodded, licking her lips. She couldn't deny it, she was desperate to be fucked and looking at that rigid weapon only increased her need. But still, something in her mind wasn't happy. She just didn't do this sort of thing. How did she know everything would be all right, how did she know he wouldn't hurt her, or worse, murder her? 

Because we'll make sure he doesn't, another part of her mind answered. Unexpectedly her brain dropped into gear. We? Who are we? Suddenly she knew the answer and everything dropped into place. We are the three girls, aren't you, she asked herself, mixing her pronouns as she thought it through. You're ghosts and you've got yourself inside my head, haven't you? 

'Yes.' The voice was clear now, as if whispering in her ear. 'We know you want him, and we'll be here to protect you.'

'But it was you who made me want him, wasn't it?' She thought the question.

'Yes. We need you to do it with him.'

'But why? What....' Her mental conversation was rudely interrupted by a hand clamping itself around her wrist.

'I'm talking to you.' He said angrily. 'Do as you're told when I talk to you.'

She looked at him blankly, trying to remember what he'd said while at the same time trying to come to terms with the girls inside her head.

'Get on there.' 

He sent her reeling over to the table, grabbing her legs as she clambered up and spun her around and roughly arranging her until she lay on her back and he stood between her widespread feet. She loved the way he just took what he wanted. Her pussy was on fire, throbbing for his cock. 

He shuffled forward, pulling her to him and guiding his cock to her entrance, thrusting inside her hard and deep. There was no finesse; he just plunged repeatedly into her, pulling right back and then ramming himself in as hard and fast as he could.

She didn't complain, she didn't want to complain, this hard merciless fucking was just what she needed, just what the three girls had primed her to want. All of a sudden she remembered her question, why had they wanted her to let him fuck her? His hammering abruptly faded into the background and it was as if someone had pressed the video play button in her mind. 

In her mind she saw the workshop, and the table she was sprawled on. But this time the person on the table was a girl she recognised as the smallest of her three ghostly companions, and she was struggling with a man, the man who was at that very moment thrusting between her legs. In her vision he had one had holding the girl down by her neck while the other groped between her legs, pushing her skirt out of the way and pulling at her panties. Her screams were silent inside Toni's head, but it was only too clear what was happening.

As soon as she grasped the meaning the vision shifted to show her a patch of bare earth, darker than the rest, at the back of the workshop. The vision flashed back to the table, where a second of the girls, totally naked, was thrashing about under his weight. A second patch of dark earth was displayed. Toni felt herself go cold. The message was all too clear. 'You will bring us justice and we will help,' the voice in her head told her matter-of-factly. Her arousal disappeared like snow in a furnace and she lay cold and frightened under his sexual onslaught.

He was gathering himself for a climax, his face was reddening and his movements were becoming erratic, but, more worrying, he now brought a hand across and placed it across Toni's mouth, pressing down hard so that she could only breathe through her nose. She began to panic, sure that when the moment he came he would kill her too. Her hand reached out scrabbling over the surface of the table, looking for something, anything that would help. But all too clearly she remembered that he had swept the top clear when he 'arranged' her on it. But still she scrabbled, hoping against hope that he had missed something. His movements now were becoming more urgent and his hand moved from her mouth to her throat, tightening, squeezing, cutting off her air.




Retribution.



Then, as she flailed desperately out across the table she felt someone place something in her hand. She gripped the handle gratefully and raised it, seeing a long slim chisel in her grip. In blind panic she plunged it down, into the man's back, feeling the steel grate across bone as it penetrated between his ribs. Suddenly he wasn't thrusting into her. Instead he was groping wildly at his back and sagging to his knees, his cock, incongruously hard, waving in front of him as collapsed to the floor.

For a short while she lay there, gulping air, but then she rolled from the table and found her camera case, reaching inside for her phone. Looking down at him she dialled the three digit emergency number.

'I've just been attacked.' She gasped out to the police operator. 'And I think I've killed him.'

At the back of the workshop three naked girls smiled at her and faded from view. 

'Thank you. He's ours now, and now we will have our revenge.' She heard the voice in her head whispering for the last time.



Retribution



I was standing at the window of my front room, looking out into the street and thoughtfully considering Karen. Let me tell you what I know about her.

She's nearly nineteen and she is a pixie. Put her in Santa's workshop and you will instantly believe that elves exist. She's petite, about five foot two, slender, short curly hair, an infectious smile and a bubbling personality. You can call me a male chauvinist pig if you like, but in my opinion she has a lovely pair of knockers and a really cute bottom. Sex on a stick covers her description quite nicely.

She is also Neil's putative girlfriend. Neil is my next door neighbour, and a grade-a arsehole in my humble opinion. Neil was bitching to me about Karen, yesterday. As far as he's concerned, if she's his girlfriend she should be putting out for him, and for some reason she has so far been able to withstand his manly charms and stay out of his bed.

This enforced celibacy was annoying Neil, and he was moaning that he thought she must be frigid. How else would she be able to withstand his manly charms? I thought his arrogantly obnoxious personality was probably a good reason, but you never can tell with women. He told me if she didn't come across soon, he was going to dump her.

That potential for dumping may explain why I was at the window of my front room, looking out into the street and thoughtfully considering Karen as she very busily trashed my car. It appeared that to go with all the nice things I said about her, she also had a hot temper.

I wandered outside and approached Karen. When I say wandered, I probably should say I nipped out quite smartly, hoping to stave off some damage. 

Karen looked over at me as I approached and glared. She was furious, and my poor car was suffering accordingly.

"Don't you try to stop me," she snapped. "I'm teaching this arsehole a lesson he won't forget in a hurry."

"So I see," I said. "Do you think you could tell me, just as a matter of courtesy, what I, as the arsehole who owns that car, have done to offend you."

"That bastard is sleeping with Patsy, when he's supposed to be my boyfriend," she yelled at me. "He said I was frigid and probably wouldn't be any good in bed anyway. He said I...."

She stopped, as what I had said finally registered with her.

"Your car?" she said. Her face had gone from red with fury to white with shock, and for a moment I thought she was going to faint.

"My car," I told her again. "I know it looks the same as Neil's, but this particular car is mine."

"Oh. Ah..." Karen gulped and looked at the car, now thoroughly adorned with large splotches of variously coloured paints saying things that, while quite true of Neil, I didn't really want on my car.

"Oh, ah, indeed," I murmured. "If you've quite finished your playing you might like to step inside and we'll discuss this."

It was plain that Karen did not at all like the idea of stepping inside to discuss this. She swallowed nervously, looked at me, looked at the car, swallowed again, and then reluctantly let me usher her inside.

Once inside Karen turned and started talking, and some of the sympathy I had felt for her promptly departed when she told me it was my fault.

"Why did you have to buy a car the same as Neil's," she demanded. "If you hadn't done that it wouldn't have happened."

"Vice versa, actually," I said, "I brought my car first. Neil liked it and got one the same. Now why don't you explain what is going on, since I seem to be the target of all this hostility."

Karen was marching back and forth across the room. She was obviously feeling hard done by, and didn't think that my attitude was helping.

"It's all Neil's fault," she stated now. "He's the one you should be blaming."

"I see. It's odd. I didn't notice him out there, vandalising my car. Was he on the phone directing you, perhaps?"

"Oh, very funny," Karen snapped. "You're quite the comedian aren't you?"

"No," I snapped back. "I'm the guy who's car you were working over. Remember? Now why don't you take a big breath, hold it for a moment and catch your temper. Then you can explain what the hell you thought you were doing."

Karen stopped her pacing and gave me a killing look, but she was also starting to calm down a little. I could see the full realisation that she had screwed up was starting to sink in.

"Ever since I've been dating Neil he's been pressuring me to sleep with him but I didn't want to. Today he tried to make me and I thought for a few moments he was going to, but my parents came home and I was able to make him leave.

We then had a big argument and he called me a frigid little virgin who was too scared to have sex with a real man and that he was going to go and have a nice fuck with Patsy who didn't mind being a real woman. Apparently he's being sleeping with her for weeks and I never even suspected.

We finished up dumping each other, but he's a cheat and a liar and I'm not frigid. I just didn't want to sleep with him and the only thing I did wrong was not to see what a creep he really is."

"And how does my car get into the act?" I queried.

Karen blushed. "I'm sorry. I was so mad at him and the things he said that I just grabbed the paint cans from the shed and came over and started writing what I thought of him on his car. I'm not frigid and he's just a swine who needed a lesson."

"But still a virgin," I said, grinning as she blushed hotly. "And one with a hot temper it would seem. I'm surprised that it hasn't got you into trouble before."

"It nearly has," Karen admitted, suddenly all winsome charm. "I've had to talk fast a couple of times. But I truly am sorry," she added, laying her hand on my chest, and looking straight at me with a tear in her eye. "I don't know how to apologise or how to make it right, but I will try. I really have to learn to control my temper, I know, and I am working on it."

It was a masterful performance. I almost felt guilty about what I was going to do next. Unfortunately for Karen, this time she wasn't going to get away with it.

I looked pointedly out at my car. "And how much do you think it's going to cost to have the car resprayed I asked? Several thousand dollars?"

Karen paled at this. "Can't it just be cleaned off," she pleaded. "I'll be glad to help."

"I doubt it," I told her. "It'd probably be best if I just tossed it to the insurance company and let them worry about it. Trouble is, they'll expect me to inform the cops and they'll want to press charges and pass the cost on to you. You just may find this expensive."

Karen was really pale now. "I can't afford thousands for repainting," she gasped, "and you can't call the police. You'd get me into so much trouble."

"Not me, you," I pointed out quietly. "You landed yourself in this mess when you lost your temper. Do you have any other suggestions?"

Karen just stared at me, not knowing what to say.

"I'll make a deal with you," I said. I held up my hand when she seemed about to protest. "Wait for it," I told her.

"I will see if I can remove the paint myself. If you're lucky, a cut and polish, after I've removed the bulk of the crap, may serve. However, you are not, and I mean NOT, going to get away scot free by flashing your lovely smile and turning on the charm. What you are going to do is go across my knee and get your pretty little tush soundly spanked until it's glowing like a stop light."

Karen went blank faced. I don't know what she had expected me to propose (but I could take a good guess) but a spanking hadn't been on her short list.

She sat down abruptly. "You not really going to spank me, are you?" she pleaded.

I nodded. "Maybe," I pointed out, "it will help you control your temper the next time you're tempted to do something rash. And before you say OK, assuming that I won't be too hard on you, I should point out that I'll be spanking you naked. Just to make sure you get the message that I'm really annoyed with you.

That is you naked, not me," I added.

Karen shook her head. "I can't," she whispered.

"That's OK," I assured her. "It has to be your choice. I'll just go and call the cops to come and check out the scene and get a report number for the insurance. Are you going to stick around until they get here or would you rather leave now and see them when they come round to speak to you?" 

I stood up, indicating the way to the door. 

Karen bounced to her feet. "Wait!" she said. "I didn't mean I wouldn't take the spanking. Just that I can't do it naked."

I shrugged, apparently indifferent to her answer. "Like I said, your choice. If you can't agree, you can't."

She looked at me with puppy dog eyes, tears welling slowly. It was amazingly effective. It was designed to melt the hardest heart, guaranteed to earn instant forgiveness for the little girl who was so patently sorry for screwing up.

I laughed. "Nice try, but no dice," I said. "What's it going to be."

The tears vanished instantly and the temper was again showing. Apparently I was a miserable, hard-hearted bastard, and it served me right that my car had been painted. If she'd know how mean I was she'd have started working on it with a hatchet.

"You are not helping your case, you know," I observed. Although I spoke softly my words cut through her tirade like a knife and she just shut up and stood there breathing hard.

I shrugged and started moving to the door and her nerve snapped.

"All right," she snapped. "I'll take the spanking. I can't get into trouble with the police. My parents would kill me."

"And you can't afford to pay for the damages, either. Am I right?"

Karen nodded sullenly. "What now?"

I sat comfortably on my couch and looked up at her. "I assume that you would prefer to take your own clothes off," I murmured. "You can stack them on that chair and then come here."

"It'll be a cold day in hell before I let you take my clothes off," I heard her muttering under her breath, as she turned away from me to start undressing.

Karen took her own sweet time undressing. Understandable I suppose, but there was only so long that she could take. Eventually she turned to face me. Although I really wanted to thoroughly check out her lovely young body I kept my eyes firmly on her face, just letting the rest of her beauty seep into my conscious through my peripheral vision. Thank god I had such excellent peripheral vision. She was gorgeous and, surprisingly for a virgin, she had a shaved pussy. I had anticipated au natural, or lightly shaped to a bikini line.

I indicated that she should come over to me, and she oh so reluctantly approached. Still keeping my eyes on hers, I reached up and took her arm when she reached me, getting her to turn and then gently encouraging her to lie across my lap.

My not openly ogling her body had seemed to calm her a little, and she was resigned to her coming spanking, even while dreading it. She lay across my lap and I guided her into a slightly better position. 

Her bottom was now directly above my lap, giving me an easy swat at it and a nice view of her pussy, peeping between her thighs. I noticed with interest that her lips were already slightly flushed and swollen, and I suspected that heat and dampness were starting to gather within her, even though I suspected that she didn't fully realise the meaning of it. She would be putting it down to nerves about the spanking.

I could see the muscles of her bottom were tightly clenched, with her legs pressed firmly together. I laid my hand on her bottom for a moment.

"Relax," I told her, patting her pretty little tush. "You will find it easier if you just relax a little. It is going to smart anyway, but tensing up like that will only make it smart more."

I let my hand rest casually on her bottom, not moving it, just waiting for her to feel a bit more comfortable and easy. After a few moments I could feel the tenseness seeping out of her, and her bottom was warm and tender under my touch. I was intrigued to see that as she relaxed her legs drifted slightly further apart, exposing her pussy more fully to my view.

I raised my hand and brought it smartly down upon her cheek. Karen gasped, and then gasped again as another spank landed firmly on her other cheek. I quickly settled into a rhythm, giving her a proper spanking. She was starting to yowl now, telling me it hurt and that that was enough. She was also staring to wriggle but couldn't do much with my other hand holding her firmly in place. 

Karen's legs were kicking and flailing, spread wide apart as she presented herself, unconsciously trying to shift my attention from the beating to more pleasurable activities.

By this time her bottom was showing a nice red flush and I had no intention of stopping yet. Reaching a point when her bottom no longer just smarted but was actively painful and calling attention to itself, Karen started to squeal in earnest.

I paused for a moment. "Stop your squealing," I told her. "You've earned this and you know it. Besides, you'll probably need your breath when I attend to your other little problem."

Karen shut up at this comment, though little squeaks of protest still jerked out of her in time to the spanking.

She suddenly spoke. "What do you mean, my other little problem?" she demanded.

"We'll discuss it shortly. Right now..."

I smacked harder, asking her some pointed questions.

"You will try to control your temper in future won't you?"

A squeal and a nod.

"You will also come around and help me clean up the car!"

A squeal and another nod.

"And you will co-operate when I address your other little problem."

A squeal and a frantic plea of "What other problem?"

"We'll discuss it shortly," I repeated to what was probably her total frustration. She was crying now, so I thought the punishment part of the spanking had gone long enough.

The next time my hand came down it was further down, landing lightly but firmly along her pussy. There was a stunned silence from Karen, and a large intake of breath which she promptly lost as my hand again landed firmly on her pussy, my middle finger landing neatly along her slit, which opened slightly in encouragement.

This time I left my hand on her pussy, softly kneading the tender flesh.

Karen squawked and heaved her bottom up, which suited me nicely.

"What do you think you're doing?" she wailed.

"Well, the spanking is over and now I'm moving on to your second problem," I told her. The hand that had been holding her in place drifted down and around and neatly cupped her breast.

Feeling the restraining hand removed Karen tried to rise up and off my lap, only to find that all she was doing was grinding her pussy harder into my eager grasp.

"This will be rape," she wailed. "I don't want to have sex with you."

"Stop panicking," I told her. "When you have sex with me it will be consensual but, unfortunately, it won't be right now. You're second problem is that you're afraid that you might be frigid. I'm just going to show you that you're not."

While I was talking my hands were busy, playing with her delightful breast and manipulating her pussy, encouraging it to flower and open. My fingers were now blatantly darting inside her, stroking and probing. I could feel her tense when I gently prodded her hymen. 

"I look forward to attending to this very soon," I told her, while my hand moved away, slowly tracking towards her clitoris. 

"Not going to happen," she gasped. She was writhing slowly, wanting to twist away from my intrusive fingers but also finding her body was delighting in the touch and actively encouraging it.

She shrieked, when my fingers eventually found her clitoris and started teasing it. Now she was softly screaming and twisting in earnest as I sent waves of delicious torment pulsating through her. 

"Oh, god, stop. Please." She twisted around, trying to wriggle off my lap, and then stopped and screamed as, with one last flick on her clit, I caused a climax to come rushing through her.

Karen lay across my lap, gasping and shuddering, dazed and confused by what had happened. I held her lightly, one hand gently cupping her mound, the other her breast.

After a while I felt her start to move, and I reached quickly to help her up. Karen suddenly found herself sitting on my lap, staring at me with a slightly stunned expression.

"I could tell you were concerned about that idiot's accusation of frigidity," I told her innocently, "so I thought that I should demonstrate that you're not."

Karen tried to glare at me, but her heart wasn't in it. "You had no right to do that. I was terrified. I thought you were going to rape me."

I shook my head sadly. "I'm always being misunderstood," I sighed. "I told you that sex between us would be consensual."

"It's not going to happen," she snapped. It appeared that her temper was recovering nicely. The spanking hadn't broken her spirit. I didn't think it would.

"Am I free to go now?" she demanded.

"If you like," I said with a smile, "but you might like to get dressed first."

It was lovely to watch the sudden flush on her face as it dawned on her that she was sitting there talking to me in the nude.

I laughed at her. "Just a suggestion," I said, "but would you like me to rub some liniment onto your bottom? It will help take the sting out. It will be easier for me to do than you, and I suspect that you won't want to ask your mother to do it."

"No, thank you," she said, icily polite. "I'll manage."

"You should," I said earnestly. "We can discuss a solution to your remaining problems now that the first two are resolved."

"I did now have a frigidity problem." Karen almost bit me she snapped that out so fast.

"I know," I said. "That's why I demonstrated that to you." 

"And what other problems do you think I have anyway?" she demanded.

"Lie face down there and wait while I get the liniment," I said. "I'll answer you in a second."

I slipped Karen off my knee and onto the couch. She lay there, plainly undecided and not sure what I was up to. I was out of the room and into the bathroom, fast, returning with a tube of liniment and a pair of plastic gloves before she could make up her mind.

She was just starting to get up off the couch when I was back and pressing her gently back down. I squeezed liniment onto both cheeks, watching as her bottom arched up at the cold feel of the cream. I slipped on the gloves and started gently massaging the cream into her cheeks.

"What problems do you think I still have?" Karen gasped, squirming slightly at the feel of hands massaging her bottom.

"Well, the next obvious one is, now you know you're not frigid do you try to get back with Neil and give him your all?" I was honestly curious. The size of her temper tantrum might have been because she genuinely cared for him.

"Not in this life," Karen stated, coldly and decisively. "He showed me just what he's really like and how little I mean to him. As far as I'm concerned he's history."

I continued kneading her cheeks, making sure the cream was well rubbed in. The soothing motion of my hands on her bottom had soothed her, and she was lying prone, relaxed and, while she wouldn't admit, slightly turned on.

"The only other problem is do I take care of your virginity now, or leave it until tomorrow?" 

The idle question seemed to sink into a dead silence. Karen just seemed to freeze slightly. I continued. 

"If I take it now, then when you come around tomorrow you won't have to worry if I'm just chasing your virginity and you'll be able to relax and make love a second time. If we leave it until tomorrow, you're going to fret all night about it, and you'll be a bag of nerves by the time you finally get here. Far better if I take you now."

With the cream now gone, I stripped off the rubber gloves. It could have proved awkward stroking her pussy with liniment on my hands. 




Retribution



Karen still hadn't answered the question, so I reached down and ran my hand smoothly along the inside of her leg until my fingers reached and lightly stroked her pussy. I reversed direction and my hand drifted down to her knee and, with a bit of light outward pressure, I encouraged her legs to move further apart.

"What are you doing to me," whispered Karen.

"It's alright," I murmured. "I'm just preparing you for my eventual entry. You're still excited from earlier so you'll find a few touches will get you ready."

"But I haven't said yes," came the whispered protest.

"But you haven't said no, either," I gently reminded her. "Take your time and think about it. I won't take you til you agree. I'll just touch you lightly to keep you interested."

My hand resumed my earlier playing with her pussy, and having felt it once her body moved naturally to accept it. It wasn't long until her bottom was moving up and down in a gentle rhythm, pressing her pussy against my touch and seeking more.

My hands moved onto her hips, gripped and gently lifted, encouraging Karen to lift her bottom higher. A bit of gentle guidance and she was kneeling, legs spread was wide as the couch would allow and her head resting on her arms.

Now I was kneeling behind her, continuing to stroke back and for the along her pussy, scratching lightly along her slit, which flowered slightly to encourage me to enter. 

I stood for a moment, holding Karen's pussy cupped in one hand, while I undid my belt and dropped my trousers. Back to a kneeling position I let my cock drag back and forth across her lips, gently probing her slit with the head. Karen's head was now pressing deeply into the couch while her bottom held itself high. She was willing, even wanting, to let me take her, just unwilling to say yes.

I moved off the couch and knelt next to it. Karen turned her head slightly to look at me, her eyes slightly glazed with need. 

"What?" she asked. "Why have you stopped?"

"I'm still waiting for you to say yes, remember?" I said, gently smiling.

I reached over and lifted Karen off the couch, held her in my arms for a moment and then lowered her onto the carpet. I do like a rich, soft, shagpile carpet. I reached down with one foot and snagged her ankle, drawing it to the side. With her legs nicely spread I moved between them, leaning forward so that my erection was hovering slightly above Karen's pussy, threatening but not touching.

Karen stared down to where our bodies were not, quite, touching. She reached down and her hand settled lightly on my erection, before taking a firmer hold and squeezing it. (I nearly came on the spot at that point. It was very disconcerting.)

Now she looked back at me, pleading. "Yes, please, now!" she gasped, trying to pull my staff into her.

I reached for her and gently eased her lips apart, before permitting her to drag my cock down and in. Releasing her lips they sprang closed, clasping my erection in their heated embrace. Karen let go and sank back, sighing with relief, now that the journey had at last commenced.

I let myself sink slowly until I was touching her treasure, then I hovered above her, holding myself in place as she twisted gently, coaxing me to come deeper. Knowing that the full penetration might hurt, I reached for Karen's breasts and gave them a sudden hard squeeze at the same time as I dropped heavily onto her, letting my cock plunge through her delicate barrier and slide smoothly into her vagina.

Karen gave a sharp scream, half pleasure and half pain, and then lay there gasping as I slid fully into her and lay on her, holding her impaled. She looked at me, waiting, knowing there was more but not sure what to do.

I pressed down and relaxed, and the same again. Karen blinked and copied what I'd just done, pressing hard against me and then relaxing. I laughed gently at her expression of interest, and she smiled tentatively back, and then laughed as I again pressed down and relaxed.

Joyfully now, Karen was pressing to meet me, relishing the movement deep within her and eager to encourage it to do its best. I knew this first time wasn't going to last long for either of us. Her body was still highly sensitive from the earlier orgasm I'd given her, while I was just on the boil from waiting so long before plunging home.

We were thrusting hard against each other, it would be just a case of who came first and how soon. I think it was me, but Karen was so close behind it didn't really matter. We lay sprawled on the floor after, gasping and laughing.

"So," said Karen, "are there any other little problems of mine you think you can resolve."

"Just one," I observed. "You need to learn to last longer. We can work on that tomorrow."

Karen giggled. "I think you came first," she said. "You'll have to learn to last longer to make sure that you can satisfy me. That's what we'd better work on.



Retribution



I'm a patient man, not one who requires instant gratification. Unlike so many of my peers, I'm willing to wait for my pleasures, to savor the anticipation of enjoyment rather than rushing headlong into the surf. So after very carefully tying Ashley's hands together and fastening them to the headboard and then each of her ankles to a bedpost, I left her, still sleeping, and went into the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee and retrieve my bagel from the toaster.

The jewish people have contributed so much to our civilization: The Ten Commandments, Hollywood, the Atomic Bomb. No one could argue otherwise. But all of these pale in comparison to perhaps the greatest culinary achievement known to man: Bagels, Lox and cream cheese. And as I layered the succulent pink flesh of the Salmon onto the pure white coating of Philly's best, I was certain we owed a debt that could never be repaid.

I placed my breakfast on a tray and returned to her room to await my wife's awakening. I sat in her ridiculous Chippendale settee and watched. It didn't take long. As she tried to turn over, her peaceful sleeping face took on a look of puzzlement, then concern and finally panic. Her eyes flew open as she thrashed about, vainly tugging on her restraints

"What the FUCK! JOE!" she screamed. It took her several moments to realize I was right there in the room with her.

"Good morning, sunshine." I said, munching contentedly.

"God damn it Joe, what the fuck is this?"

"Oh my," I said, "Such language. And first thing in the morning too. Do you kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?"

This froze her for just a second. Then, "Untie me you crazy bastard and I won't call the cops."

I stroked my chin and pretended to consider her offer. "Hmmmm, I don't see a deal here. I mean if I let you go you SAY you won't call the cops but if I leave you tied up you CAN'T call the cops, right?" I said.

"Listen you son of a bitch, untie me right fucking now. Do you hear me? Right FUCKING NOW!"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. We really must do something about that mouth of yours. How am I supposed to enjoy my breakfast with you making all this noise?" 

I got up and rummaged through the bag I'd purchased the day before from the Adam and Eve shop. It was where I'd gotten the restraints.

"Hmmm, let's see where is it? Ah, here we go." I pulled out the ball gag and untangled the straps as I leaned over her.

"Now hold still." I said.

"Get away from me you sick motherfucker!" She said and spit at me. I slapped her face. Her eyes went wide, but she stopped moving

"I said HOLD STILL!" 

I fastened the gag around her head and moved the ball into her mouth before tightening the straps

"There," I said, "that ought to do it." And I went back to my chair and took another bite of my bagel.

"This Lox is fantastic," I said, "I think I'm going to miss Murray's Deli most of all." She looked puzzled.

I finished the bagel and drained my coffee cup. I wiped my mouth and rubbed my hands together.

"Now, let's get down to business, shall we." I went to the bed and slowly removed the covers exposing her a little at a time in order to increase her uneasiness. When finally her bare feet came into view I dropped the covers on the floor and went to her desk where I took out a pair of scissors. 

Ashley became extremely agitated as I approached the bed with scissors in hand and began a renewed thrashing about. While I couldn't understand her words I knew what she was saying.

"Yes, sweetheart, I know. This is a lovely $700 lavender peignoir from Neiman Marcus." I said as I cut the left shoulder strap. "I know because I paid for it. Now hold still so I don't cut you." I cut the right. She was screaming against her gag opening her mouth wider than the ball and making the most obnoxious noise. 

"Hmm, they assured me at the shop that this was the best ball gag they had and promised it would do the trick." I said showing mock disappointment. "I'll need something else." I went to her desk and found the scotch tape dispenser and returned to the bed I removed the ball gag. 

"God damn it, Joe, what the hell's wrong with..." 

"Shut up!" I said and raised my hand as if I were going to slap her again.

"Close your mouth," I said. She did as she was told. I tore off a strip of tape and pasted it diagonally across her mouth. I fastened a second strip making an X across her full beautiful lips.

At this point I could have merely unbuttoned the nightie but her fear of the scissors was adding a new dimension to her torment and I was beginning to warm to my role as tormentor. I placed the cold steel of one scissor blade against her chest and maintaining contact with her skin as I went, I slowly snipped the material all the way from neckline to hem. I spread the two halves and pulled the entire peignoir from beneath her and threw it on the floor. Then I went to the panties. I slowly pulled the material away from her hip and sliced it. I did the same on the other side and gently lifted the now free front flap to expose her completely. I was surprised to see her pussy was bare; it had been a very long time since I'd seen it.

"Ashley, my love, you've been sheared. Is that the way Eduardo likes it?" I put a special sarcastic emphasis on her lover's name relishing what I knew about her Guatemalan stud that she didn't. As I said, I'm a patient man.

I stood back a bit to take in my wife's still beautiful form. Partially the result of excellent genes and partly the result of excellent plastic surgeons, Ashley was a vision. No one could have halted the effects of twenty years of aging but she'd come damn close. Her breasts were round, full and firm and had very little sag. The areolas were dark pink and puckered and the dark nipples, I noticed, were hard. Her belly had a voluptuous feminine roundness as did her hips. Her thighs were still muscular and her shapely legs ended in tiny perfect feet. The plump outer lips of her naked pussy and the deep cleft between nearly took my breath away.

I had never been a devotee of that subset of the pornography pantheon known as BDSM. Nothing against it, assuming mutual consent, or against those who practice it, it's just not my particular kink. Seeing a woman tied and helpless has never blown my skirt in the air, but having my beautiful emasculating bitch of a wife helpless and spread open before me...well, I could become a fan.

This was no skinny teenager; this was a woman in her prime with a visceral sexuality that could peel paint. I felt that nearly forgotten hard knot in the pit of my stomach I always got whenever I looked at her. She still had a power over me that I was going to have to fight against if I was to finish what I'd started.

I took a deep breath. Sitting on the bed I let my hand trail over her smooth skin.

"You know I actually blame myself." I said as my fingers lightly stroked her thigh. "I loved you so much and gave in to you so easily." My fingers were toying with the labia majora. (I liked those words; as if giving her pussy a Latin name could make it less sexual.)

"You were always hungry for things, expensive things. And I wanted so much to give them to you. But it didn't matter how much I gave you, you always wanted more. I thought I could win back your love. But it was just the opposite wasn't it; the more I gave in to you, the more "stuff" I bought you, the less you appreciated it. And the less you respected me." 

Ashley tilted her hips as I slipped the knuckle of my finger into her vaginal cleft. It was damp.

"Darling, you're nether region is all dewy," I laughed. "Does this excite you?" I slid my finger up and down the slippery channel as Ashley began to squirm. 

"I worked hard to give you whatever you wanted but it was never enough, was it?. And you perceived my catering to you as weakness and began to resent me for it. You started to ration sex to get what you wanted from me, teasing me by flaunting your body and then finally, denying me altogether. A shrink might say that I sublimated my frustration by pouring all my energies into my business." 

I slipped my finger into her and felt her pussy clench.

"And I did alright, didn't I? There'll be a press conference this afternoon but, well, let me be the first to tell you, Seymour Systems is being bought out by for a little over eight hundred million dollars and other considerations. I'm signing the papers as soon as I leave here."

I slid a second finger inside her and pushed in deep tapping her cervix. Her eyes went wide and she grunted.

"Don't worry, the lawyers have drawn up the paperwork and you get half of everything, I do want to be fair; after all, if you hadn't kept this from me," - I wiggled my fingers inside her -"I would probably never have been so driven. You'll find the papers on the dining table; they just need your signature. You get the house, and the little "shack" in Aruba. I'm giving you the Benz and the Beamer and the Escalade. I'm keeping the cabin in Montana and the Mustang." It was a '65 that I'd taken from a rusted hulk to near mint condition - more sublimating I suppose.

My two fingers inside her were pressing and stroking her G spot and my thumb was rubbing her clit and I could feel her cunt opening for me. I loved the smooth feel of her mound, and the dampness that coated my fingers as I explored the warm wet folds inside her. My cock was leaking and throbbing with lust. Maintaining control was going to be a bit more difficult than I had anticipated.

"Don't look so shocked, Ashley, you must have known this day was coming." I removed my fingers from inside her and, using her juice as lubrication, began a slow gentle stroking of the tips of her hard little nipples. When we were dating, and in the first months of marriage, when her body was still available to me, I could sometimes make her come simply by stimulating her breasts and nipples which were extremely sensitive. I began rubbing her areolas in a circular motion and up and down the perky buds. She may have had murder in her eyes but there was lust in her hips which were rolling side to side as I pinched and stroked.

I removed my robe and, naked, straddled her, placing my cock between her breasts. I rubbed and squeezed the generous mounds of flesh before pressing them together around the hard shaft and, rocking my hips, began to fuck her tits. I was leaking precum like faulty plumbing and the lubrication it provided plus the look of her tits squeezed together took me close to the edge and I nearly lost control.

But I wanted more than just having her helpless before me. This wasn't just about sex. I wanted to humiliate her, to make her pay for the years of torment and shame I'd been living with. Pay for the succession of lovers who came through my door, drank my liquor, ate my food and fucked my wife in my bed. Make her pay for not even having the decency to try and hide her perfidy. I moved further up her body.

"Darling, you're still making much too much noise." I removed the tape with a quick jerk and she cried out and took a deep breath.

"Joe, please, we really need..." she began

"Now see, that's just what I'm talking about, too much noise. Maybe this will shut you up."

I lifted her head and brought my cock to her lips. Surprisingly she opened her mouth. I shoved my cock inside.

"How 'puny' does it feel to you now?" I said as I buried her nose in my pubic hair and felt the back of her throat constrict in a gag reflex. I was not at all "puny" but she had taken delight in telling me how tiny my little dick was compared to Eduardo's who apparently was hung like a Guatemalan mule.

Rocking my hips I fucked her mouth enjoying the sight of her plump lips stretching as I withdrew and then plunged back in. I released her head and she began bobbing up and down sucking me and massaging the underside of my cock with her tongue, her warm, wet mouth pulling and tugging.

"It's been so long, I'd forgotten what a great little cocksucker you are."

Beneath me, I could feel her hips grinding, pressing down into the bed and then lifting, opening, perhaps to receive her imaginary lover. Was she thinking of him between her legs? She was working my cock in earnest now as she looked into my eyes. What was she expressing with those eyes? Apology? Or pity? Whatever it was, she was no longer afraid, and that angered me. 

My orgasm hit me with surprising force and I held her head as I fucked her mouth, pumping my cum down her throat in spasms that made my cock jerk as my seed splashed against the back of her throat. I watched as she desperately tried and failed to swallow all of it and white frothy cum leaked from the corner of her mouth.

I withdrew and she gasped for breath and I felt angry with myself for having lost control and climaxing. It all seemed unfinished. Surprisingly, my cock seemed to think so too and remained hard.

------------------

I went to the foot of the bed and undid one of the ankle restraints from the bedpost. I braced myself for her reaction, expecting her to scream and kick wildly but she remained docile. Puzzled I fastened the Velcro to the other post then did the same with the other restraint. In this way I turned her onto her belly.

Now let me just say this: the naked female form is obviously a visual delight and a woman with nicely shaped breasts, belly, legs, and feet can take my breath away anytime. But a firm round bottom, upturned, with legs parted to expose her plump pussy lips, well, all I can say is God created this to make a man's head soft and his cock hard and Ashley's ass was as fine a work of art as can exist on this earthly plane. Along with her cunt with its pink inner lips now visible and moist, it could easily cause a coronary

"Lift up." I said. When she raised her hips I slid two pillows beneath her. She was squirming slightly and making soft almost inaudible moans. I stroked the soft smooth flesh of her bottom and legs, letting my fingers trace a line from the back of her knees up her inner thigh toward her pussy. She held her breath as she arched her back, lifting her hips to grant me access and exhaled, disappointed as my hand moved away. I stroked and teased in this way for several moments.

"I need to tell you about Eduardo, darling," I said as my fingers made another pass up her leg. "I had him checked out. Cost me a fortune but I felt you should know. Turns out his real name is Edward Barnes, a slick little hustler from Akron. And the only thing Latin about him is two years of high school Spanish and a Guatemalan stepmother."

My fingers slid up and down the crack in her ass.

"Seems our Eddy is quite a naughty boy. He did time for check fraud back in Ohio. Since then he's ripped off several widows and wives. So far he's always gotten away with it somehow; I guess you were gonna be his big score. Turns out there are a couple of warrants out for his arrest and being the civic minded individual that I am, I've let the authorities know where to find him. Oh, and that three hundred and eighty thousand the two of you squirreled away in the Caymans? That's being included in the settlement."

I pressed a finger against her anus and she shivered. "Joe..."

"You'll find the detective's full report on the dining table too along with a copy of some of the videos I've taken of the two of you. That's right, I've recorded some your little fuck sessions."

Without warning I brought my hand down hard on her right buttock. The sound exploded in the room and was followed almost simultaneously by her loud gasp. I immediately spanked the left cheek and was rewarded with an additional gasp and a grunt and the sight of my hand print in pink on her white skin. I began spanking her hard and fast, smacking one cheek repeatedly, making the skin pink, then moving to the other until her lovely bottom was blushing and she was breathing hard and unable to process one smack before the next one landed. 

Surprisingly her hips continued to grind against the pillows.

"Joe." she said softly.

"Not a word or I'll tape your mouth again."

I went to the bag from Adam and Eve shop and retrieved the Rabbit. I had never seen one before I went in looking for a vibrator and the clerk recommended it. She threw in some lube but from the look of Ashley's wet cunt and the small wet stain on the sheet below I didn't think we'd need it. 

I turned it on and spread the wet lips of her vagina. She arched her back trying to avoid my hand. I smacked her bottom as hard as I could and she yelped.

"Stick you ass up and open your legs." I demanded. She did as she was told. Again I spread her cunt lips wide and shoved the vibrator inside her. She cried out at this sudden intrusion but gradually calmed down. I positioned the ears on her clit as the sales clerk had shown me and adjusted the vibration rate until she was purring and rocking her hips.

"Getting close sweethear?" I asked.

"MMmmmm, uh huh" She said.

She was clenching her thighs together and grinding her hips against the pillows as I worked the vibrator in a slow circular motion making sure the ears never lost contact.

"I want you tell me when you're about to come."

"Oh baby, I'm almost there!"

I could see her asshole starting to pucker and I knew she was right on the edge. I quickly removed the rabbit and spanked her ass hard again and again and again. The plump flesh of her bottom was wobbling deliciously as she pushed her hips into the mattress and rolled side to side in vain attempts to avoid my punishment. She clenched her buttocks in defense.

I had also purchased a paddle with holes bored in it that the clerk said I should be very careful with as it can cause considerable pain. Well pain was what I was after but there was something much more visceral in the feeling of my bare hand on her naked flesh

"Yeow! Stop it, please! You're hurting me! OW! Please! Just tell me what you want."

"This IS what I want!" I said, relentlessly continuing her spanking. "This! I want to hurt you! I want you to feel a little of the pain I've been feeling for all these years. I want to punish you for the countless lovers, the continuing humiliation. I want you to beg me to stop. I want your tears, I want your screams." With tears of my own streaming down my face, I relentlessly spanked that magnificent bottom.

Her pleading and her screams did not satisfy me. 

My plan had been to torment her sexually, bring her to the edge again and again and then spank the hell out of her each time she was about to come, pushing her orgasm back down before arousing her again; to tease and then deny. It was an elegant plan, but I was completely out of control now. Her ass was red and I continued punishing her, slapping one cheek in the same place over and over until she was nearly hysterical before moving to the other one. My palm was on fire. Her flesh was beginning to bruise, turning a dark purple at the base of her bottom where I directed most of my punishment.

She was sobbing uncontrollably, her lungs taking in huge draughts of air before releasing her breath in explosive, racking sobs. She was saying something over and over but it took me awhile to understand the words.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry..."

I stopped spanking her. My cock was rock hard and leaking and I had one more final act of humiliation to perform. I climbed up on the bed between her knees.

"Lift your hips." I demanded

She lay there sobbing, "...sorry I'm sorry I'm..."

I pulled her hair, "I SAID LIFT YOUR HIPS!"

She raised her ass, "HIGHER!" I grabbed her hips and roughly pulled her to her knees which tightened the restraints around her wrists, keeping her head down low on the sheet.

Ashley had never allowed me to fuck her from behind even in the early days; she said it was degrading. We had once watched a movie where a couple was doing it doggy style and she remarked, "How can she find that enjoyable. It's humiliating" All right then.




Retribution



I moved in behind her. 

"Spread you legs!" I demanded. "Wider! Arch your back and offer me your pussy." Still sobbing she did as she was told. 

"Now beg me to fuck you."

"Please..." 

"Beg me!" I slapped her ass hard

"Yeow! Please, please fuck me, Joe."

"What?"

"Fuck me. Please. Fuck my pussy."

I positioned my cock at the opening of her cunt. It was soaked. Something about being beaten and humiliated had turned her on.

I drove my cock deep inside her and began pumping her, my abdomen making slapping sounds against her tender bottom, my balls tapping against her clit. I was possessed, ramming my cock into her as hard and as violently and as rapidly as I could. I pulled her hair hard lifting her head while with my other hand I dug my fingers into the outraged flesh of her ass. I pushed my thumb into her asshole up to the first knuckle.

"How is it?" I said, "Does Eddy fuck you like this?"

I knew the answer; I had it on video, the two of them like a couple of Jack Russell Terriers. 

She was making agonizing moans and I thought I was hurting her the way I intended but soon I felt her cunt contracting squeezing my cock.

"Please, please fuck me! Please, Joe, fuck me, fuck me, fuck meeeeeeeeeeeee!

She was screaming now, "YES! YES! OH FUCK YES! COME WITH ME! COME INSIDE ME! COME, WITH ME, JOE. COME, YES!"

And I did. I came so hard I thought my head might explode. I pumped my cum deep inside her and she yelled with every spasmodic ejaculation, "YES! YES! YES!"

I felt I was pouring my entire being deep into her and disappearing inside her. I wanted to fill her with my cum as again and again it pumped out of me until I was completely spent.

I collapsed on top of her and my weight brought us both to the mattress where we lay trying to catch our breath. 

"Oh God," she said, gasping for breath. "Oh God, Joe," she gasped again. "Why didn't you do that 10 years ago?" For a brief instant I felt a stab of the love for her that she had killed so long ago. In that moment I wanted to put my arms around her and hold her. But like smoke the feeling vanished.

I got up and went to my room and showered. I selected a suit and dressed for my meeting. I closed my bedroom door for the last time and went down the hall. At her open bedroom door I saw that she had somehow managed to free herself - I really needed to speak to those folks at the Adam and Eve shop. She was naked and rubbing her bottom. Her eyes were red and streaked with tears and there were bruises on her breasts where I had grabbed and slapped them. Her imperious attitude was gone, the haughty disdainful stare which she had fixed on me so often and which had distorted her beautiful face had vanished. She seemed humbled and contrite.

I stopped and looked at her "Well, then..." I said. I could think of nothing else to say and I turned and walked on down the hall.

"Joe." I stopped.

"Please..." I turned. The light was coming from behind her. She looked like a child, lost and scared. 

"What do you want, Ash?" I sighed. I was exhausted. The exhilaration I had felt at humiliating this woman who had made my life hell, had evaporated and I just wanted to leave.

"Please don't go."

"What?"

"Please? Stay? I love you. I always have."

END