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From: thedisciplen@yahoo.com (DiscipleN)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 23 May 2002 03:36:21 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} What for the Husband? [Pt. 2] (MF, drugs, coerc, incest, torture)
Date: Thu, 23 May 2002 08:10:04 -0400
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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.

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



I think Joclyn was surprised when I didn't immediately return to tying
her up and raping her. She certainly wasn't looking forward to it, for
my little black bag of toys had mysteriously relocated itself to the
back of a walk in closet and under a pile of diapers. I didn't notice
it for a week. I had much to think about.

What next? I felt strangely dispossessed of direction. So many things
had fallen my way, except perhaps for the brat, although my run with
granny had its high points. I reassessed my relationship with my wife.
She seemed as devoted as ever, except, like any mother, the little
piece of shit came first. She prepared my meals, and spread her legs,
and talked about everything my son did and didn't do. I thought I
wanted to fuck her silly and make her pay for bringing my sperm to
fruit. But my efforts in the sack were meager shadows of my original
passions. Her milk filled breasts were now much larger than her
mother's. I enjoyed sucking on them as much as the brat did. I played
with their milky streams until I grew bored again. I even tried
playing the overjoyed father, but that lasted until the first time it
puked on me.

With a terrible insight, I realized that I wasn't important anymore.
All of my attempts to destroy this woman's life for my pleasure were
now empty memories. She had found true fulfillment. I wondered if my
still beautiful wife even loved me any more.

"Of course I love you. How would your son and I survive if we didn't
have your strength to protect us?"

So, I was just a tool. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. She was
suppose to be my ultimate trophy. I contemplated a dangerous plan to
reverse this fate that had come upon me.

Many a stupid person would think that if I got rid of the child, much
would be solved. Only, I'm a pusher and a pervert, not a murderer. I
know my limits. The poison I gave Jenny was carefully calculated to
look like an overdose, as prescribed by a doctor. He would take the
heat if anything went awry. I was in the clear.

No, my plan had to do with usurping the defacto control my wife had
over my life. Legally, I was her and the child's sole support. I may
sell drugs to fools, but I pay my taxes. Some evils must be worshiped.
I had a respectable audit trail all the way back to my first deals in
high school. I was going to legally ruin my wife's credibility.

I started on my knees. I decided to break one of my rules, and I
sucked that gorgeous woman's clit until she creamed heavily into my
face. It didn't happen overnight. I had to work her up to it, but I
told her that she deserved to feel joy in our marriage bed. I had been
cruel only out of ignorance. I told her it was time I learned to give
her more than my seed.

For nearly six months, we reignited our romance. I was determined to
explore fresh methods of control. I already knew how to enslave a
woman with drugs, but I didn't like the eventual results. Now, I knew
that orgasms were no match for a mainline of china white, but I was
willing to experiment. With a little luck, an orgasm might be an
interesting gateway to even greater power.

By the time word of grandma's death arrived, I could console my wife
in a new way. The old bitch had held out for more than four months. I
can imagine how she tried to tough it out, time and again, trying to
rid her neural receptors of their artificial dependency upon a
superior opiate. But when it's as easy as reaching into a bag to ease
the agony of withdrawal, Jesus himself would have poisoned himself
with the shit.

I gave head to Joclyn nearly every night, for half a year. At the end
of them, she might not have been hooked, but she sure looked forward
to it. She started calling her cunt, her 'slurpee'. Of course, she
never had called it her cunt. I rarely called it anything else.

One night, I observed her first, significant behavior modification. I
was down and juicy, with several fingers stroking inside her cunt. My
lips were perfectly curled around her aroused clit when the baby
started caterwauling. Oh, shit there goes lunch, I told myself. But
then I felt Joclyn's hands pressing the back of my head.

"Hurry baby, please! Don't forget to drain my slurpee all the way."
She said with surprising vigor. I couldn't see her face, but it must
have been torn between the need in her cunt with the duty of her
station. I didn't disappoint her, but I didn't hurry either. I wanted
to see just how long she'd let the brat wail before she went to him.
When she finally bucked her loins into my head and spread her
lubrication all over my face, I was most pleased. The kid had to yell
for nearly two minutes. Finally, she rushed off. I toweled myself
proudly.

I didn't let her first sign of sexual capitulation hasten my plans. I
merely added a little more 'normal' sex into the mix. I fucked her
slowly, bringing her to orgasm with my hands, as my cock rutted her.
Again, ignorant men who think orgasms are won solely by prick
technique, haven't had sex with more than one, unlucky bitch. Odds
are, the second woman would have required more deliberate measures to
please.

I could tell when Joclyn began to believe she lived in a perfect
world. She had a healthy son. Her husband was dutiful, kind, and
generous, and now that I had finally fulfilled her sexually as well as
as economically, she could rest her worries, once and for all. I
prided myself on being a master world builder. Soon I would earn the
title, Destroyer of Worlds, to my credentials.

I felt a perverse pleasure, knowing that I would soon reach my
ultimate goal of my wife's total corruption. It enabled me to stay
focused on my efforts to undermine her goodness, just long enough to
ensure it.

One day, Joclyn wept at my side after I announced that I had grown
bored of her. Quite true. The moment her tears soaked into my tailored
shirt, I knew that my gambit had won. She was now only a book I had
written, and I could foresee the ending, needing only to be written on
paper.

"Husband, perhaps there is another way I can please you?" She seemed
eager to return the joys she had learned and had grown accustomed to.
I acted perfectly sincere in pleasuring her, often faking my own
climax.

"You please me that you are willing to continue our marriage. It is
all I require." I told her. "But I have not found joy in our bed for
many months. I grow weary of my efforts to please you there. It has
have become a burden."

Her head fell.

"But life is not lost. You are my wife, whom I love beyond physical
vows. Keep faith in that, remain true, and I shall never forsake you."

"Yes, my love." She wept openly. My shirt trembled in anticipation of
future drenching.

I took the next step towards her doom months later. She had not been
pleasured in bed in all that time. Her only comfort was taken in my
lifeless arms at night and at her breast by day as she nursed the
brat. I told her that formula was by far the more efficient and proper
nourishment in modern times, but she defied me in that.

I realize now it was not a small thing. Her loneliness grew. I would
not have been dutiful, if my next step had not sought to relieve her
of sexual isolation, among other things.

It is true that I was a vile, enslaver of human lives and corruptor of
their souls. In this I fed you, oh Master of all Evil, far more than
the flesh of mine you swallow as I account my deeds. But, I was a man,
and I found friendships that suited my human needs for company. Other
beasts of man live upon the world and we found occasional fraternity.
One man, a giant, black hulk, muscular and lean was Jim Ferris. He
sometimes supplied me with my raw stock, but I was wise enough to not
rely on a single source.

We often swapped lies about our cunning evasions of community servants
who sought to capture us. We drank and boasted of our sexual conquests
and laughed at the mighty we had brought low with primitive chemicals.
He claimed to own an entire police precinct, one of his more reliable
sources of shit.

I had never boasted of my wife to this man, and he occasionally asked
about her, knowing I was married. I only told him, she was a plaything
I used to keep honest appearances. I told him she was pretty enough,
but lazy and stupid, and that she lay like a tuna in bed. I convinced
him she was not worthy of his curiosity.

Now I began to reverse this impression. I casually commented that I
had accidentally stumbled upon a dildo she kept hidden. I hinted that
it was a bit lengthier than my more 'comfortable' size. I do not
remember if I mentioned the first time that it was black. When I did,
his eyebrows raised involuntarily. Jim and I conducted business
together once in a while, and sometimes we were confidants of petty
information, but we were primarily competitors and rarely shared our
true emotions.

When I confided that my wife was wholly ignorant of my real business,
he was intrigued enough to inquire further. Eventually, our
conversations led to a invite to visit my home. I extracted his
promise not to reveal our profession, warning him that my wife could
not be trusted to keep it in confidence. I did not lie about that.
Joclyn's moral fiber was likely stronger than our marriage bond. No, I
needed something much stronger to bind her when I finally possessed
her.

Jim did not hide his smile when I offered to share my home and table
for an evening. He was totally blown away when my wife answered the
door. Five years of marriage, the birth of a son, and the loss of her
mother had left Joclyn's figure barely less than a goddess'. The
purity of her soul never failed to enchant her smile. My utterly
ruthless, occasional, business partner was reduced to a soft-spoken
and polite guest before he even could enter our home. Yet in his
heart, he smoldered like a log newly placed on a bonfire. No more than
time was required before he burst into flame.

The dinner went famously. Joclyn had never entertained one of my
equals in business, and instinctively she knew he was far more
important than the rare idiot invited to lend credibility to my
supposedly legitimate industry. She had outdone herself as hostess,
dressing conservatively but alluring in her innocence, serving hearty
food and rich desserts for powerful appetites, conversing
intelligently but almost suggestive with sweet tones. My wife could
not have been rightly accused of tempting Jim. He fell like a tree,
his magnificence humbled by her chaste glory.

Still, I did not hurry my plan. It had to execute perfectly for reason
greater than simple success. My goal was absolute victory, constructed
solely by my will.

Similar to continuing her mother's injections in order to maintain her
addiction, I would, once in a while, present myself to my wife and
seduce her until she was personally satisfied, but I left her in full
knowledge that I had not shared in her comfort.

Jim often asked to visit, and I did invite him again and again, after
lapses undoubtedly painful to his patience. He was so blinded by his
passion for my wife he failed to conduct himself as he once might. I
lacked any contingency if he had simply invaded my home and raped her
during one of my absences. Fortunately, the truly evil are often
ignorant of good's power to ward corruption. I felt myself incredibly
superior to Jim in that knowledge. I would triumph where he succumbed.

Already, you have deciphered my plan. I will not delay in telling it's
course. My absences began to overlap periods where Jim was welcomed to
visit. Joclyn must have felt great accomplishment in finding a new
friend, one platonically committed to her. Jim could be coarse. More
often he was jolly and bright. I'm sure my wife found him an imperfect
but warm acquaintance. Truthfully, her godly soul could not restrain
Jim's lust forever.

I was never far when they met, although I claimed distance. I was
fortunately close enough to witness the inescapable event when it
erupted.

Jim was nearly kissing sweet Joclyn when he finally took her in his
arms and ravished her. She screamed, of course. Her belief in Jim's
virtue shattered.

"Stop, Jim. Release me! This is madness!!"

"Teasing bitch, shut up!" Jim did not strike but shook her instead. He
buried his face between my wife's breasts.

"I thought you were my friend!" She exclaimed.

"Damn, you smell like the freshest cunt." Jim was lost in his desire.

She lashed out with her hands and tried to kick him, but she was like
tissue to his steel. "No! Get out!" His hand pressed into her skirt.

"Scream if that'll make it better for you. Today, I will not be
denied."

She did scream, loudly and long, but what neighbor in this age of
fractured community would dare aid her? Not that one would have
survived Jim's determination.

His ripped her dress like it was cheese cloth and he threw her on the
coffee table. Her naked, trembling body lay before him.

I spied them through a convenient window. My binoculars shook from
excitement.

My wife might have escaped him, temporarily, as he unbuckled his
trousers and heaved them to his knees. I smiled at her sudden lapse of
fear, or was it a different fear that paralyzed upon the hard, cold,
smooth wooden surface? A hard bound book pressed into the flesh of her
back.

Jim's iron shaft transfixed her. I too was significantly impressed,
not so much by it's size, but its strange expression spoke of
overwhelming power. Did poor Joclyn's legs relax their defensive
tightness somewhat in its presence? Their strength insignificant to
her fate, Jim grasped her ankles and spread them like sheaves.

"God have mercy!"

"I am your god, bitch! Beg me for my blessing." The giant now smiled
confidently.

"Never!"

He impaled her.

"AAAAHHHGGGGGG!!!!! NOOO!"

His cock fucked like a black, steam piston.

I didn't think even Jim could sustain fully fucking my wife for more
than a minute, considering his pent up lust, but I was wrong. He
lasted nearly two before his nigger sperm injected in between my
wife's child bearing hips. If he impregnated her, it would just be
more fuel for my own engine.

"Oooohh, Noo, I'm not protected!"

Jim shouted with his release. "I've got all the protection you need.
I'll kill your husband if you like." He didn't slow his fucking even
if his cock had begun to soften, as I imagined.

"No, he must never know!"

"Know what bitch?"

"Oh, god no, I- I'm cumming!!! OOooooohhhhh! Oooohhhhh!!" Her body
convulsed with unwanted pleasure.

A smile the width of the river styx lit Jim's face like a bonfire. He
waited for her to stop hollering before he withdrew his cum coated
prick. But he had only begun. Jim grabbed Joclyn's hair and dragged
her face before his drooping cock.

"Suck it."

My wife gave him only one pleading look before she knelt and bent to
his will. Jim was better than I had expected. It was nearly time to
make my move. I discarded an expensive pair of binoculars in my
attempted un-haste.

The black giant wanted her mouth on his prick just long enough to
return it to full mast. Her cunt had drained him too quickly for his
ego. The second time he took her slowly and mauled every part of her
fantastic body.

I know my wife came almost continuously from his deliberations. I was
there, standing just out of sight of their pinhole pupils. He fucked
her for nearly an hour before issuing a second load of his seed into
my wife.

Finally spent, in so many ways, Jim raised himself to his feet. Sweet
Joclyn nearly fainted from passions so fully released.

He discovered me then, standing a safe distance away.

I smiled with a satisfaction that could only have confused him.

He found clarity suddenly at the sight of the gun in my hands.

Joclyn screamed.

Before the mighty soiler of my bride could lunge, I shot him,
perfectly.

I am not a murderer, I told you.

He fell to the floor grasping his thigh. Bright blood spilled between
his fingers.

I ordered my wailing woman to go to our room.

She looked dreadfully at her rapist and ran up the stairs.

If I had killed Jim, all would have been ruined. By catching him in
the act and wounding him seriously, I knew I would never have trouble
from the bastard ever again. He knew I had every right to shoot his
heart out of his rib cage.

I tossed him a hand towel from a carefully measured distance, weapon
at the ready. He bound his wound efficiently, his lips curled in pure
hatred.

Minutes after having raped my wife, Jim hobbled out of my house
forever.

I locked the doors and bolted the windows. Then I replaced the gun in
its rack in my den. Then I climbed the stairs.

Joclyn was a trembling heap on our bed.

I removed my clothes, contemptuous of her her rueful wailing.

I raped her.

Once more my cock buried itself into her cunt and her ass and then
between her choking lips. She did not move one finger against me. I
came twice but not in the hole already dripping with black spume.

She did not get pregnant.

It might have been due to the fact that she was still breast feeding
the brat, which can act like a mild, contraceptive pill. I didn't care
either way.

I owned her, completely. After fucking her so gloriously, so
reminiscent of my first rape when she worn a bride's raiment, I spit
upon her.

She flinched but did not speak.

I told her she was a whore that she was unfit for my bed and for being
my wife.

She whimpered, fully ashamed. For we both had witnessed the power of
her orgasms from the ministrations of another man. I didn't even have
to mention it.

Instead, I played my ace. I told her she was unfit to be a mother.

She bolted up in terror! "You can't..."

"Shut up." I silenced her. 

"If you ever try to, or even imagine that you can escape me, I will
take your son away, and you will never see him again!"

She grasped my legs and pressed her face into my feet. "Please!"

"You will obey me."

"Yes!" She swore.

"You will never contradict me."

"Never!"

"You are nothing more than trash."

"Please, our son."

"Fuck him. I only want you, utterly and forever."

"I promise, husband." She stared up at me begging.

"Don't ever call me that again."

She dropped her head. "Yes, Sir."

"Now go stuff something in that brat's face and smother his
screeching. I'm sick of it."

She raced from the room to touch her son.

In that one regard, I was weak. I should have tossed the kid into some
abusive foster care family, but he was my one, perfect hold on my
wife's total capitulation."

 From now on, I would rule my house with an iron fist.

I should have taken a lesson from my wife's continuing strength. With
her son in her care, she never fell completely apart. The house
remained tidy and efficient, even when I brought junkie whores and
jail bait home who often trashed the place If they didn't, I would
thunder in from a night of serious drinking and smash everything in my
way, including my beautiful wife.

I would rape my wife to remind her of her place, but I never again
gave her an orgasm. I only restrained myself from cutting her in
obvious places, but her ass and torso and thighs and cunt were a maze
of scars.

I should have seen her quiet strength, but I was too confident in my
perfect victory. She never raised herself against me, but as has been
said before, 'When in strength the fawn lives, so does the buck give'.

Twelve years into my marriage, the father of my bride heaved a wood
axe through my face. He caught me sleeping in my bed. It had taken the
simple fool, nearly a decade to piece together what had happened to
his beloved wife and his dearest daughter.

Every plan has it's wrinkle.



My Master guffaws and nearly chokes upon my fetid corpse. "This is the
sin of your wife, to summit to your evil? That is no sin."

"Wait, Supreme in Hell, before you grind my skull in your teeth. Let
me conclude."

The Master stared, his black eyes burned into my rotting skin.

"Poor Joclyn was left with nothing. Every potential source of comfort
died with me. Her father was imprisoned for my murder. My business was
quickly taken over by Jim, but he lost all emotion for Joclyn after
seeing the scarred flesh I had left for him."

"My wife was able to establish a small income from savings she had
invested, secretly. In that she had defied me, but it is a pittance,
and she barely escapes a hand to mouth existence."

"You ANGER me, fool!" The Master chomps my torso neatly in twain.
"Your bride's theft is no sin."

"I must explain!" I screamed and did not wait for the next bite. "To
my bed, she has taken the child of my corrupt seed!"

My remains drop from his slackened grasp. The neck that connects my
maggot ridden face to my crushed body snaps as I fall upon sharp
rocks.

Suddenly, I am buried beneath such vomit as a land fill might contain.
His stomach acids dissolve my flesh and bone.

"Now I understand, you thing that was once a man." The Prince of
Darkness laughs once, and sneers. "She has one comfort left in all the
world. It is the thing you hate most of all, a shadow of your own
self.

"I like it." He laughs again.

My last words escape as I vanish from immediate existence. "I beg you,
let her pass above."

"That is not my privilege. I punish only those who arrive, but I can
see into the future and know her reward." His bony heel grinds my half
digested remains into the rocks. "Even better, I know your eternal
punishment. These initial torments have been but play as I am wont to
do with new toys.

"Hear this day, your fate." My master proclaims. "Even now, as your
son pokes his young cock into the holy place that gave him life, there
are those who smile. They write in their books, and they type upon
their machines. They have heard this story, as it is legend from the
beginning of life. Their aroused pricks and cunts juice at the thought
of it.

"This mother is an archangel, neither held high nor fallen as her son
crawls up her skirt. She lives between heaven and hell, joyous, yet
grieved. Above her, the father morns for his own secret lust. Below
her, lies you, the dreck that was discarded.

"Eternally reviled in lore, 

"Where the son assumes your place, 

"In every story where mother is whore, 

"All shall learn of the husband's disgrace."



THE END

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