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From: thedisciplen@yahoo.com (DiscipleN)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 23 May 2002 03:33:42 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} What for the Husband? [Pt. 1] (MF, drugs, coerc, incest, torture)
Date: Thu, 23 May 2002 08:10:02 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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The following is a work of FICTION.

What for the Husband?
by DiscipleN

Copyright (c) 2002, by DiscipleN. All rights reserved.
This work may not be used for any commercial purposes without prior,
documented consent from the owner.

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


"Master of Hell, I beseech you! Let me rot in your dankest cave. Boil
me in your fieriest cauldron. Skewer my body with icicles and freeze
my organs. Tear out my limbs at dawn and stuff them into my orifices
come twilight. I ask not forgiveness, but grant me my due." An
emaciated corpse groveled low before his new king.

"Why should I listen to even the scraping of your fingers, villain?"

"I lived in abeyance of everything moral and deserve your wrath, but
there is one sin that I beg you not to punish."

"Insolence!", the mighty Lord of Hell blasted. "I shall pour acid into
your veins for suggesting there exists a sin I shouldn't avenge." The
powerful voice ripped the man into pieces, and for long years did he
wail in agony, until his body was renewed for fresh torment.

"Master, it is true, this I have earned, I who have raped and seduced
and impregnated and betrayed and abandoned one so pure. That victim
has fallen in my absence, but I beg you let her pass above."

"Compassion and mercy are not allowed here, foolish despoiler. Yet I
would hear your story as I gnaw on your bones." CRUNCH!



"Yeeeaaaaaaahhhhh!!!  ...as you command, my master."



I was barely out of high school when I met Her. In fact, I had
narrowly survived expulsion. My exploits were not legend, for I
carefully blackmailed any who knew. There were at least three
pregnancies in the school which were a direct result of my education.
Some of those frightened girls had felt a sharp knife to their
throats, and others were black and blue from my fists before I had
unleashed my seed into their wombs. Bigger, stronger kids in my
classes had tried to play the hero, but none survived either the
poison I slipped into their soda cups or my offers to let them bury
their cocks into trembling, bruised cunts.

She was a new student, innocent as fluttering snow and as warm as
summer. Her face melted my heart for nearly a minute before I decided
she would be mine, forever, until death did we part.

Her name was Joclyn. I spent two years wooing her in the traditional
fashion. Her parents found me a devoted and sincere young man, ready
to make his mark in the world of business. My heroin enslaved, nun
whores and junkie fundamentalists did not make me wealthy, but I wore
fine clothes and drove fast cars. I sucked up to Joclyn's folks like a
lamprey on a dolphin. I would have sucked her father's cock and made
sincere love to her mother in order to win their affections.
(Eventually, I did rape her mother, and hooked her as well, but I race
ahead.)

Joclyn eventually swooned. I showed only my best, and I courted her
with the least attention to my personal, villainous affairs. I
remember one day we were walking along the main boulevard, having seen
a romantic film, just talking, when she first kissed me.



"Wow," I eased off of her full lips and sighed. The streetlights and
traffic lights swirled around my head. The roar of automobiles dropped
away as if into a deep well. I could have taken her then and ripped
her clothes and scarred her body and dug my cock deep, but her beauty
and grace were armor my heart refused to pierce, directly.

She told me then, "You have been so kind and patient. I know I have
dawdled too long, considering your proposal, but the warning I was
given, before we first met, melts day by day in your presence. After
two years of your kindness, my doubting intuition has certainly proved
false. Never have I met a more giving and attentive man. I can no
longer deny you." Joclyn swooned and hugged me.

For one minute only, Master, I doubted my mission. Her hair smelled of
lilac and her skin was like cream. I met her eyes and recognized Eve
before the fall. I could have forsaken you then. I could have changed
my ways, and become a decent man deserving of her perfection. Yet my
prick pressed painfully against my tailored trousers, and it was, by
far, the ultimate persuasion. I held her tenderly but my brain swirled
with victory and the many spoils I would take. Twenty months of
perfect facade finally won her over, and I cursed her weakness and
ignorance as I kissed her forehead. I told myself she deserved nothing
but my worst until the end of our days.

We married in autumn, and winter was her honeymoon. I hurt her first
on our wedding night. My hands mauled her perfect body, and my teeth
left marks which lasted for days. My prick fouled her cunt and ass
repeatedly with cum, and the blood on our sheets and nightclothes were
my bride price. She cried and screeched, but her pure heart believed
my profuse apologies in the days that followed.

"I did not know." I lied. "No one ever explained to me how a man
should act with his wife. I curse the day I listened to my friends'
stories. I beg your forgiveness. I am on my knees." She found,
afterward, only tenderness and thoughtfulness in me, for a while. The
most rewarding way to break a woman is to constantly assure her of
love and provide hope, all the while you grind it away. It is an art
few can learn. Joclyn would be my masterwork.

In our first year, I gave little opportunity for her to despair. I
would rarely arrive home drunk and missed hardly a handful of our
romantic rendezvous. She thought I was a manager of a jewelry
distributor, but it was only a cover operation for primary school
prostitution and life insurance investments. I would ensure the life
of my junkie debtors as long as they pimped their adolescent children
to pay their debts.

Do not think my fair Joclyn was spared so much humiliation. I still
insisted on fucking her like a madman, cumming in her ass and cunt as
I pleased, and I swiftly added her mouth and face to the list of my
sperm receptacles. I told her it was all I knew, but wasn't I a near
perfect gentleman at all other times? If only she could accept this
one flaw in my makeup, then I promised I would keep her happy in every
other way.

She reluctantly agreed.

I knew she felt no joy in my lovemaking, no, my raping of her. Yet by
day and evening, I took her on picnics and to dances and bought her
piles of flowers and thoughtful gifts. By night, I bound her hands and
used butt plugs and gags and clamps and straps. I would tie her to the
stove with the oven burning and I would lash her naked ass with wooden
switches, lovingly carved from a peach tree in our yard.

I would spill my seed upon her and within her. I did not allow her
contraception, nor would I even look at a condom, but I did not
intentionally try to impregnate her. It was my private game of Russian
roulette. I told myself I would have any child aborted, and if she
refused, I would slip pennyroyal into her tea. It was my first, but
perhaps my only mistake.

The peach tree died from over-cutting the next year. I grew steadily
bored with Joclyn. The wounds of my rapes began to show more upon her
once satin skin. Welts and bruises turned into small scars and
callouses. I tried to withhold my hand from inflicting permanent
injuries, but passion often blossomed beyond restraint. My words of
endearment dried up, and my nights away and drunken returns increased.
I would apologize with flowers and drives to the country, and she
continued to forgive me. But in our second year, she became pregnant.

I was furious! She had deliberately delayed in telling me. Only when I
began commenting on her steady gain of weight did she reveal her true
condition. She tried to pose it as a blessing, but already I was
thinking of a doctor who owed me plenty for his weekly fix.

Joclyn was not a stupid woman, by any measure. Certainly, I played her
for every advantage, but I was the best. She must have suspected, even
in the early, happy days, that I might not prove the greatest of
fathers. Hiding my contempt for children has always been my most
difficult act.

She defied me then, when I accused her of conceiving without my
consent. She said she would live with her parents before she would
abort her child. I nearly lost it and my future exploitations with it.
I could have strangled her, but until then I had never raised my hand
to strike her, unless my cock was already delving within one of her
pummeled orifices. If she had left me who knows how I would ever bring
her back into my elaborate plans of ruination. We compromised, and I
still believe I won the better part of the bargain. We decided to let
her mother move in to help her during the pregnancy.

Her mother soon took over the regular schedule of home life. I was
thwarted in my plan to sneak something into Joclyn's food, as her
mother did all the cooking. But it has been said so true, 'When in
beauty the fawn dwells, so does the doe excel.'

Joclyn's mother, Jennifer, was an incredible specimen. Age seemed
never to have knocked upon her door. Her body was fit and trim, but
her curves were a little larger and little looser than my wife's.
Jenny's round ass was a mighty example of flesh rendered just large
enough. Her breasts hung better on her than other women half her age,
except for her daughter's slightly smaller but firmer tits.

I called her 'Jenny' from the start and tried to create a pleasant and
informal atmosphere. Fortunately, Joclyn's grace was a direct
descendant from her mother. We got along merrily. For the next two
months I returned to my role of husband perfectus. I even let up my
harsher treatments to Joclyn in our bedroom, and perhaps for the first
time, my wife may have glimpsed of the possibilities of actually
enjoying sexual intercourse. Of course it didn't not last, nor did I
consider to what she might have associated that glimpse.

During the first two months of Jenny's company, I began a stealthy
campaign to enslave her will. I employed the tools with which I was
familiar. Every night, after my wife was asleep, I would sneak into my
mother-in-law's room and apply a topical anesthetic to her calf. Once
it's numbing effect had time to work, I stuck my needle into her
muscle tissue and injected a carefully measured dose of the white
horse. My doctor 'friend' was invaluable for advice. Heroin doesn't
addict a person as quickly or as deeply when delivered into muscles.
Only when it is mainline into the bloodstream does it take full hold
of one's mind.

I didn't want to turn Jenny into a zombie over a weekend. I wanted
something far more seductive. At first, the only signs of my activity
were the occasional comments Jenny would make about her exceptionally
peaceful dreams. She was sweet enough to ascribe them to the pleasant
atmosphere of her daughter's home and to how very welcome she felt I
had made her. It was close enough to the truth that I nearly laughed.

After several weeks of injections, I cut off her supply almost
completely. Poor Jennifer didn't know what had happened. It was like
something was suddenly missing in her life. She was quickly beset with
headaches. She soon had difficulty getting out of bed and helping
around the house. Her thoughts became confused and were easily
distracted. I would occasional sneak to her bed and relieve her
suffering, but only to ensure the addiction wouldn't peter out from
cold turkey. After two weeks of Jenny's 'illness', I offered to bring
a doctor to examine her.

Fortunately for my 'friend', he performed exactly as he was told. He
gave her a perfunctory examination and prescribed a daily injection.
He told her it was something that was going around, and soon she would
be fine. I of course was the person in charge of the medication. I did
not trust my 'friend' the doctor with more than a few doses for his
playing part. I quickly volunteered to give the injections each
morning. Jenny thought I was a dear to help her.

Perhaps I should have paid more attention to what my wife thought, but
Joclyn was more concerned with her fetal brat than her once again
charming husband. When I left our bed, each morning, to administer to
her mother, my wife would curl up and hug contentedly the basketball
that had become her stomach.

Now that I was openly supplying a fix to my mother-in-law's habit, I
began flirting with her more. I would play games with her about
withholding the needle. When I injected her I would often target her
vein, and then she was out like a light and sent to her own personal
heaven for the rest of the day. I would fondle her beneath her
bedclothes and jack off at her side. I probably could have fucked her,
but I wanted her to know it when I did that. I wanted her to beg me.

Not too long thereafter, Jenny learned to fear when I teased her about
withholding her treatment, because occasionally I would do so. I would
complain that we were out, and I couldn't get to the doctor's that
day. If she offered to go herself I would remind her how much her
daughter needed her with the baby, now enormously pregnant with that
grotesque creation of my loins.

I know that she and my wife looked for my stash of 'medicine', or
perhaps the prescription, because Joclyn came to me one day and asked
me about it.

"My love," I reassured her. "Let me fetch the doctor, and make sure
we're following his exact orders. I think you mother's recovery is
taking too long. We seem to run out of medicine so quickly."

"Perhaps we should find another doctor. I'm not sure I like this one."
Joclyn suggested.

"Perhaps." I mused, plainly considering it. "First, I should ask your
mother if she want's another doctor. If she's willing, I'm open to
whomever you would like."

"Thank you, dearest." She brushed my forehead tenderly.

I smiled and stood up. I walked into her mother's room.

"Jenny?"

"Oh, son. Forgive me if I don't get up. I'm feeling so drained. Did
you bring my shot?"

"Yes, I did mother." I took a syringe out of an interior pocket of my
robe. "Unfortunately, I can't give it to you."

Her eyes shot open. "W-why not?"

"Well, your daughter, my dear Joclyn, has asked me to fetch another
doctor and get his advice. You see, you haven't been recovering as
well as we expected. If we were to send for a second opinion, I don't
think it would be right to continue the treatment that was originally
prescribed. I wouldn't want to make things worse."

She caught her breath.

Here was the turning point I had sought. I looked deep into my
mother-in-law's eyes. My every pretense fell away, and for the first
time she realized exactly the kind of person her son-in-law was and
the position I had placed her in. She was my slave.

She gulped. "You t-take me too seriously, s-son. I'm feeling better
every day. I just need a little start to get me going. You can see
that, right? Son? I-I don't think we need to pay for another doctor's
advice."

"Of course you are improving. I should have been more considerate. You
look beautiful." I turned on my charm, but she knew it was just
another facet of my horrible sham. She stared at me with a look of
utter helplessness as I called her daughter to join us. Her face
immediately brightened, deceptively, the moment Joclyn came in. I hid
the syringe in my robe.

"It would be best if you told her, mother." I commanded in a natural
tone.

She gave a big smile to her daughter. "Honey, you're so kind to think
of me, but let's not jump to conclusions. I'm sure your husband's
doctor is perfectly qualified and very experienced. I liked him."

"Okay, whatever you say mother. You seemed so distraught earlier."
Joclyn knelt at her mother's bed.

"I was thinking more of myself than you. I'm here to help you, don't
you remember."

"And here we are trying to help you. Are you sure you don't want to go
back to dad? He's missed you."

"But I'm almost well. I would hate to waste an airline ticket to
arrive home perfectly fit to assist here, let alone miss the
celebration of your delivery."

"Okay, if that's what you want."

Jenny dared to look at me, with a quick glance. My eyes for her hadn't
changed.

"That is what I want. Let me get a good night's sleep, and I'll be up
singing and folding the laundry come morning."

They kissed, harmoniously. Joclyn returned to the living room. I
smiled terrifically at my mother-in-law, and then I injected a full
dose into her arm.

Jenny was up at dawn, folding clothes, but she wasn't singing. I went
off to 'work', knowing that she could not now betray her need for the
drug.

A couple days of freedom is all that one needle can give, before the
cravings return. I woke up early one bright morning and went to
Jenny's room. She looked like hell. She hadn't slept, and her head was
no doubt pounding. I closed the door behind me and pulled out the
syringe.

She licked her lips and gave me an 'anything' look.

My wife was in her last stage of pregnancy. I knew I could have sex
with her right up to the day of delivery, theoretically, but my
personal disgust for the thing that lived inside her robbed me of my
desire to fuck my still fuckable wife. I had been getting blow jobs
and ugly ass from my own hookers to sate my desires. Now I had a new
toy to play with.

I placed the syringe on the dresser, well out of Jenny's reach. She
stared at it longingly. She wasn't even distracted when I unzipped my
pants and pulled down my briefs. I walked over to the bed, half naked.
My cock jutted over the bed expectantly.

Joclyn's mother wasn't stupid, but she was naive.

"Please son, don't do this to me. I-I know you can be forgiven. Help
me, and I'll pray for you."

"It's too late. The only thing you have left to pray to is this. Now
get pray'n." My voice left nothing uncertain.

She looked down and reached out for my prick. I let her jack on it a
for a little while, but when I brushed her hand away, she looked at
me, questioningly. She had tears in her eyes. I pointed at her covers.

She could have been quicker to pull them down, but she wasn't slow.
Again, I was struck by her beauty. Her curves were accented by a thin,
power blue, negligee. Dark nipples hinted in just the right places.
Her pubic hair was closely trimmed. If I were not already married to
the loveliest creature on the earth, I would have set my sights on
Jenny's one notch lower. My cock tried it's best to throw me on the
bed, but I held back.

"Tell me, what do you want?" I commanded.

"Please, just give me my shot." Her last plea vanished into silence.

"It's right there on the dresser. I could get it for you, but I seem
to have a problem."

"Wh-what?"

"I need to fuck you."

"Then just DO IT!" Her nerve finally shattered.

I slapped her face. "Shut up! I don't want another word of disrespect,
or you'll never feel that needle."

"F-forgive me." She dripped tears directly onto the bed.

"I need you to beg me, bitch."

"Please, m-master," The word did please me. "Let me give you release."

"That's right my sweet, slave, bitch. Again, but with feeling this
time!" I sneered.

"I-I beg you, master. Let me be your b-bitch. I would do anything for
you, if only you would inject me."

"I will inject you mother, my bitch. Twice!" Still, I hovered over the
bed.

She shook her head. "At least wear a condom, please..."

I hit her, hard.

She fell away to the bed and huddled naked before me. "But I might get
pregnant!"

"This cock wears condoms only when it enters a diseased pussy. Are you
diseased, cunt? Diseased cunts don't deserve this kind of medicine!" I
pointed at the syringe.

"No. I'm not diseased. I've never made love to anyone but my husband."
She fell to pieces. "It hurts so bad!"

"Love! Love is bullshit. I'm going to rape your three holes and you're
going to beg me. Got that?"

I'll give her credit. She faced me when she finally spread her legs
and begged me.

"Please son, fuck me."

I crawled into the bed and immediately placed my hand between her
tits. I felt the negligee's thin material in my fingers. I could feel
her heat through it. Her nipples were soft, exhausted as the rest of
her. I rubbed her tits not gently, and I leaned over to stick my
tongue down her throat. She only moaned from the pain in her head.

This wouldn't do. I had dreamed of more life from my conquest.
Fortunately, I had the solution. I got up again and brought forth the
needle. I injected her with a third of the fluid inside. In a few
minutes, she was halfway between heaven and hell. Jenny looked at me
more fearfully the second time.

I tore her nightgown off and told her to never wear clothes to bed
again. She cried and nodded. I tied a gag over her mouth and raped her
hard. My dick hadn't spent that much time in three wet holes for
months. I poured enough cock juice into my new bitch to breed a dozen
creatures like me. I didn't give a damn about laying a bastard into
her, but I got turned on, all over again, at the idea. If I hadn't
heard my wife begin to putter around, I would have fucked her mother
all morning.

It was great fun, and I wanted to keep this new cunt around. So I fed
her the rest of her medicine, and she dreamed until sunset.

Over the next few weeks, I took some real risks. I preferred to fuck
Jenny when she wasn't in a stupor and when she wasn't jonesing. I'd
catch her cleaning the bathroom and I'd have to have her. I'd poke my
cock up her slit and into her ass even when her daughter was in the
next room. Joclyn nearly caught her mother sucking on my cock one day
when she came into the kitchen craving a snack. We pretended Jenny was
sewing a button on to my pants, an emergency procedure. I left for 'an
important meeting' immediately thereafter.

The safest times I threw a fuck into Jenny was when she was just going
to bed. As per my orders she didn't wear any clothes. I would sneak
into her room after telling Joclyn I was going to have a chat with her
mother about her mother's health. (Jenny was doing much better now
that she was getting regular shots.) I'd start out fucking her cunt
and chewing on her tits, and then I'd stick a plug up her butt and
force her on her knees to suck me. I never sucked her. I don't do
that.

The funniest thing is, I think the old bitch started to like it rough.
I'd be giving her some dick to cunt action and pinching her nipples or
slapping her face and suddenly she'd start to cum, sometimes even
before I shot a load of potent cum into her. To be sure, she hated my
guts, but the intensity of her orgasms really surprised me. I thought
the notion of women liking the rough shit was a figment of bad
storytelling. Maybe she was faking it, but she didn't have any reason
to. I'd fuck her just as hard if she never moved.

I began to fuck her harder. Jenny learned a new level of torment to
her body. Soon she was sporting bruises and even deliberate scars.
Only the regular doses of H gave her a measure of relief. I don't know
how Joclyn was able to miss all the fucking that was going on under
her own roof.

At her best, my mother-in-law didn't shirk her duties to her daughter.
When the dreaded time came, Jenny told me in no uncertain terms that I
could go fuck myself while she helped my daughter give birth. Both
women knew that I refused to hire a doctor for the procedure, unless
there was a threat to the mother. It would be 'family' thing, is how I
spun the event. Only I wasn't included and didn't want to be. The
moment my child screamed and sucked air into his lung for the first
time, I was slapping the face of the doctor who owed me life itself as
he sucked on my barely interested cock.

As every parent knows, the introduction of a child into a family
changes everything. At least, that's how I expected it. Sure, the
squalling lump woke me up at the worst times, and since I blamed my
wife, while she went to coddle it, I crept into grandma's room and
fucked her violently. I had expected the house junkie to leave within
a month of the child's birth. She had her own husband to abuse her,
and frankly, I was getting bored again. That she could cum when I was
beating her tits with a leather belt was a new turn on for me, but
even that paled as her skin began to wrinkle and grow cluttered with
marks. The drug was having it's wasting effect. God, how I hate
junkies! They never last.

Grandma kept inventing excuses to stay, (either the baby or its mother
really needed an extra pair of hands), but when I promised her a
month's supply of pure shit, she finally agreed to return home. Joclyn
cried at the airline gate. Sonny boy bawled all the way back home. I
was smiling. I had laced Jenny's departing supply of heroin with
poison. I called grandma and warned her of the 'bad batch', adding my
sincere apologies, hah!

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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