I looked her straight back and said in a hoarse whisper, “Yes, I think I am too.”
What else could I say?
As we headed off towards our front door, her pubic notice was swirling around my brain.
My wife was about to strip down to a skimpy, long-string bikini in front of Kevin and his gang of wild bikers. And if those two words ever came into their view ………
And as my dumbfounded haze began to clear, it clicked where I’d heard them spoken before. It’s what Kevin had said SHOULD have be written on the bald sex of the doll he had tied in his bedroom.
But then I shamefully recalled several years prior when I’d also heard those very same words. It’s what Kevin had cruelly forced me to say, one night when we were way back in college.
And now they’re emblazoned as bold as could be, in black pen on the sex of my wife.
Had she also, somehow, been forced to comply, or had she deliberately placed herself in grave peril?
I wasn’t sure, but one thing was clear. She was using the exact same two words which had sealed my fate, one night when I was with Kevin in college …. and tonight could end the same way.
I closed my eyes and shuddered with goose-bumps as I recalled the vision of seeing my wife stepping out of the shower with those two little words written in large, bold, black letters on her white and clean-shaven sex.
I re-read the words ……
RAPE ME
___________________
THE REALIZATION AND REVELATION
We locked our front door behind us, and when Debbie, now dressed as a police-woman with her skimpy, long-string bikini underneath, and myself, now dressed as Bo Peep in wig and full make-up, reached the entrance to Kevin’s driveway, I had a sudden rush of blood to my head. I grabbed the sleeve of her costume, causing her to stop in her tracks, and we stood square eye-to-eye as I spoke :-
“I saw what you’ve got written on …. you know …. down there ….. and I think this whole set-up is too risky.”
“Why, what are you worried about?” Debbie replied, like she hadn’t a care in the world.
“It’s because I love you and I’m not sure I trust Kevin …. I don’t want anything bad to happen, so I think we just ought to go home.”
“And what exactly do you think might happen?” Debbie asked, almost as a taunt, and definitely in a challenging, abrasive tone I’d never heard her use before.
“Well, you know, down there, what you’ve got written. It might be that …..” I stated, it being obvious what I meant.
“So?” Debbie snapped back, as she twitched her sleeve to pull the fabric free from my grasp. “It doesn’t really matter now, does it?”
“Why, what do you mean…’So’ ? What are you talking about?” I asked, unnerved by her stark tone and unsure where this was going.
“I’m saying, it’s a bit late.” Debbie said, still cool and off hand.
“It’s never too late. I still don’t know what you mean.”
“You want me to spell it out? …. That jobs been done.” declared Debbie, like she didn’t care.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying? That you’ve been ….?” I asked, panicking now, but also flinching from a short, sharp jolt inside my cock-cage when Debbie cut my question short with slight but definite nods of her head.
“When?” I added in a croak.
“About six months ago.”
“Excuse me?” I blurted, incredulous, as she affirmed her catastrophic revelation with definitive timing, but which had also caused another sharp jab inside my cage. “Where? …. How?”
“That time I stayed over at Angie’s …. I had too many margaritas,” Debbie admitted straight out without emotion.
“And it was ….. like …. he forced you, right?”
Unnervingly, Debbie just shrugged her shoulders.
“Who was it? Did you report it? Why didn’t you tell me?” I spilt out.
“And then what? You write a stern letter?” she scoffed, as I winced at her hurtful, low blow.
“But you did report it?” I asked, still shocked and incredulous.
“Nope,” Debbie answered, nonchalant, like it didn’t seem to matter.
“Why not? Did you know the guy?”
“I didn’t at the time, no, not really.”
“What do you mean, at the time not really?” not understanding where all this was coming from.
“Angie knew him, and she’d told me all about him …. but I didn’t believe ….. expect …..” her words trailing away as she seemed to become distracted and wistful.
“But he did force you, though, right?”
Again, to my consternation, Debbie just shrugged her shoulders, as I recalled her ‘stay over’ at Angie’s had been for four nights.
I took a deep breath to steel my emotions before I asked the next question, having realised what her shrug may have actually meant :-
“And have you seen him since …. I mean, has he ….. you ……? “ I started, but trailed away. She knew what I was asking.
“Not since that weekend, no ….. he’s been away … was back in jail,” Debbie said.
“Oh,” was my blank response, but then realised the connotations of her wording, and added, “But he’s out now, yes?”
“Yes,” she admitted flatly.
“And do you know where he is, what he’s doing?” I asked, as I simultaneously realised that the couple of sharp jolt inside my cock-cage had morphed into an overarching, painful ache.
“If you want to know the truth ….. even you do,” she stated, and despite this cryptic new information, I still hadn’t grasped the handle of this monumental riddle she was unveiling.
“How would I know where he is? ….. Do I know him?” The riddle now starting to fry scars of my brain.
“That time at Angie’s, after he’d …. we ….. you know … afterwards ….. we got talking, and …..”
“You talked?” now realising they were more comfortable together than I’d first assumed.
“Well, yeah,” she stated, as if it was obvious they would’ve had a conversation ‘after’.
“Go on,” I conceded.
“Well, we got talking, and, you know, certain things fell into place.”
“And you see him now? …. You’ve got together?” I asked, the dull ache inside my cock-cage becoming decidedly painful.
Debbie gazed deep into my eyes for several long seconds …. analysing ….. scrutinizing …. then took a deep, long breath before she spoke, “Not long after he got out, next door came up for rent, so I rang him …. and he went and got it and moved in.”
“Oh my God,” I blurted out loud, mainly at myself in shocked realization, “And he’s been calling round to see you every day …. so has he … have you….?” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.
“Every afternoon this week …. and most of yesterday morning,” she said straight out.
“Oh, jeez,” I squawked, as I flung my arms and turned away so as not to face her, assuming everything I thought solid was now lost. But within a millisecond of hearing this new information I’d already started to join the dots, and some really weird coincidences were now starting to make sense. But that didn’t explain the excruciating pain inside my cock-cage, which was almost bringing tears to my eyes. I then turned back around to face her …. reassuring myself she was still in one piece and seemed unharmed.
“But it wasn’t, you know ……? He didn’t force you or hurt you?” I had to ask.
“What do you care, you weren’t there,” she threw back, then took a few heavy, deep breaths before adding, “You know what he’s like …. take a shot.”
“But we can put this behind us, right here and right now …… lets turn around and go home …. start anew.” I offered, my inappropriate pain slightly abating.
She again stared into my soul for an unnervingly long moment, then hammered another cuckold nail into my coffin :-
“He called his crew in special, you know, to celebrate his homecoming …. give them a treat …. and that treat, my dear hubby, is gonna be me.”
Her eyes then flared a defiant flare …. then continued to stare me down. I felt myself take a deep, reflex gulp under her oppressive gaze, and after several long, tense seconds, and as the word, “But ….. “ was weakly coming out of my mouth, she added :-
“ …. and you too, if you want ……….. So are you coming with me or what?”
She then turned on her heel and strode up the long driveway ….. and not once did she stop to glance back.
……
When she reached Kevin’s doorstep with me five steps behind, I called her name and she spun around to face me with a, “What?”
“But your ovulation …. I mean …. I don’t want …… “
“Oh, yeah, about that,” she acknowledged, as she started fishing with her fingers inside her uniform’s top pocket, then producing a little key dangling from a dainty little chain, “That’s not really your problem now, is it?” she proclaimed, before returning my liberation into her pocket.
She then turned to face the door and jabbed her finger into the bell-push ….
……. which caused me agony in oh, so many sweet ways …….
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