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From: "H. Jekyll" <h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Fantasy, Part 3 of 3: Life Among the Ruins. (MF, d/s, cheat, oral, torture)
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Date: Thu, 21 Apr 2005 11:10:02 -0400
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"Fantasy"
by H. Jekyll

"Part Three: Life Among the Ruins"

*  *  *  *  *

Codes: MF, d/s, cheat, oral, torture

Copyright 2004 by H. Jekyll. Permission is freely granted 
to post on any site that does not charge for entrance, as 
long as full attribution is given to the author. The story 
should not be read by anyone under the legal age to read 
sexually explicit stories, or by anyone in a location where 
it is illegal to read such stories. 

This story previously appeared at "Ruthie's Club," which I 
recommend to readers. An illustrated and formatted version 
can be found there. See: http://www.ruthiesclub.com/.

I love to correspond with fellow netizens: 
h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com

The H. Jekyll stories are archived in the Alt Sex Stories 
Text Repository (http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/h_jekyll/), 
and at "Ruthie's Club."

*  *  *  *  *

"Fantasy, Part Three: Life Among the Ruins"


It came to pass that I went mad. Not insane, but mad. I knew what I was
going to do and it filled me with joy, tremendous joy, for the first
time since Richard took Alice. I would kill him. This thing would never
end. It wouldn't die unless he did. He was a vampire, sucking my life
away, leaving me barely human. He'd done it. He'd destroyed me. Now he
was going to die. I had daydreams of killing them both in various ways,
while they were doing any number of things, mainly in the middle of
fucking. In my madness a plan came to me. 

I had, first, to get away from his surveillance. Richard was always a
step ahead of me. How did he know where I was, where I went? How did
his men always intercept me? How indeed? Maybe he was having me tailed.
That's what Mickey said. But maybe he had a fix in with Mickey. Or
maybe he had me wired. I had to slip everyone.

I was mad, but not demented. I knew I had to be methodical. I hired
another investigator to do a discreet check for electronic
eavesdropping devices. My house, car, phone. Eureka! There was a bug
attached to my car and another to my landline. Nothing else. No nanny
cams or hidden mikes or anything else, though he warned me about cell
phones in general. The two things were probably enough. They weren't
even very expensive. 

While I talked to the investigator, I had a vision of Alice smearing
come all over her body.

There were two days before Richard and Alice would return to Las Vegas.
I had to work fast. I walked out my back door and went three blocks
over, where I bought a used car for a thousand dollars cash. I drove it
to City Hall, to the trash department, gave Richard's name, and
complained that my trash bin had been vandalized. Then I went to a pawn
shop where I bought a pistol and bullets and an old City Works
Department badge. It was more official looking than today's badges. One
step follows the other. Follow the plan. I put on a baseball cap and
drove the new clunker past Richard's estate a couple of times, not
closely together in time, looking for ways in. 

I went to a firing range and practiced with my pistol on human
silhouette targets for an hour. Whenever I hit it I imagined Richard.
So far, so good. Richard, you're dead. I'm going to make sure you know
it's me before I do you.

I thought, it's too bad they don't have bitch silhouettes. 

I drove the used car down to Palm Springs, to a contract parking lot
near a resort hotel, where I parked it. Within an hour I had bought
another cheap car. I drove it back to Las Vegas and parked it in a
contract parking lot a half mile from my house. I was chuckling and
rubbing my hands together all the way back.

Now time for the misdirection. I called the resort hotel in Palm
Springs to make a reservation. Then I called Mickey. Sorry, Mickey. I'd
like you to report on Richard and Alice, but I can't take any more of
this. I have to get away for a bit. He was sympathetic. 

I drove my bugged car to Palm Springs. In the mirages of water on the
highway, I kept seeing Alice's body stretched out, glistening,
dripping. 

At the hotel I went to my room and turned on the TV. Then I walked all
the way down the stairs to a back entrance, retrieved the used car, and
left. It was a long ride back to Vegas, slowed by wreck. At one point I
thought I might be late, but everything was fine. One step follows the
other. Stay with the plan and fucking Richard's a dead man.

Richard thought he was so careful, and that he had good security. I
guess he did. Still, people aren't defense minded all the time. It's
why airport security always fails its tests. There was a back entrance
to Richard's estate, with dumpsters and a gate the staff kept open so
they could get out and back easily. So could I. I wouldn't have to
shoot my way in. I didn't care one way or the other, except that this
upped my odds of success. There were probably security cameras, so I
was taking a chance. But while the cat's away and all that, plus if I
were caught I'd flash my badge and pretend to be an inspector for the
city trash department. I laugh about it now. Crazy man Henry, did you
really think you wouldn't be recognized? I parked as close to the
estate as I could, walked down toward the dumpster like I knew what I
was doing, and slipped along the house. There was a thicket of bushes,
pretty far from the sidewalk, where I simply sat down to wait for dark.

I could tell when the two of them arrived, because of the ruckus. It
went on for maybe an hour, after which most of the staff began leaving.
While they were going out the back way, I went in through a side door.
I stepped into a closet and waited. It got quiet. Okay, do it. One foot
follows the other. I walked down the hall toward Richard's favorite
room. Oh, you fucker, I know this house better than any burglar would,
and I know where the staff stays when you don't need them. You're mine.
When I entered the den with my pistol ready, I wasn't surprised that no
one was there. Not exactly no one. Richard was there, alone.

* * * * *

Richard looked just like he always did, except that he was in
shirtsleeves. By the time he saw me it was too late to do anything but
sit in his chair and focus on the gun. But he never looked panicked,
merely focused.

"I enjoyed the photos, Richard. But now we play this game my way, not
yours. You bring Alice out and no one gets hurt. She and I can have a
conversation."

He kept looking at the gun. 

"You don't want that, Henry. I promise you. Just leave and I won't
report this."

"You have to ten." I felt phony, like someone in an action thriller,
but I made up my mind to shoot him right away if he did anything I
didn't like. It was my only leverage, and what was there to lose,
really?

"One."

"Henry..."

"Two."

"Okay. Okay."

"Three."

"Armand! Henry, Armand will get her. It'll only take a minute."

"That's all you have,"

A lovely dark boy came into the room. When he saw me he stopped dead
and his eyes went big.

"Armand. Go fetch Ms. Alice. Mr. Henry wants to speak with her."

Lovely Armand backed out of the room and skittered down a hall.

Silence in the room. Finally Richard said, "Care to sit?"

"Shut up."

"We can still talk this out."

I fired a shot past his leg, exploding a large vase. From down the
hall, a voice with a Spanish accent screamed. "Señor Richard!"

"It's okay, Armand! Everything's fine. However, please be quick with
Ms. Alice." Richard looked at the gun again.

"Are you wondering how many more shots I have? It's a 9mm, you know."

"Yes. I know." His voice was dead calm. "I figure at least nine more."

I didn't answer. I might have, I don't know, but things sped up too
much. There were sounds in the hall, noises of hurrying, of Armand's
voice saying something in fractured, desperate English, of Alice's
voice asking something. I turned my head toward the doorway and Richard
cocked his head like a sparrow, and at that moment Alice and Armand
stum-bumbled into the room, Armand pulling her by an arm, the two of
them looking something like a beautiful Larry and Curly running to
Moe's call. It would have been amusing, as Richard might have called
it, if I hadn't been considering killing him or maybe Alice and him
both, or first killing them and then blowing my head off. What was I
thinking? The gun felt heavy. I let it drift from Richard to Alice and
then back toward him. Alice turned her head back and forth between
Richard and me. 

"Henry?" 

It was clear Armand had been too flustered or ignorant to tell her
about me, and while I chewed on that fact I was knocked to the floor by
the two large, polite young men who took the pistol from me and pinned
me down.

* * * * *

It took two or three seconds to realize the change the men on me had
wrought, two or three seconds with the two behemoths twisting my arms
behind my back, with Alice already gravitating toward Richard even as
she stared at me, drifting over until she was close enough to put the
fingers of one hand on his arm. By the time she looked up into his face
it was as clear to me as anything, the answer I'd come for, clear
enough to make me curse being so stupid as to let myself lose the gun.
It would be several more minutes, though, before I found what anything
meant.

Richard took charge, of course.

"Don't hurt him, but do keep the gun away from him. He's not to be
trusted just now." 

I had the chance finally to really see Alice. We stared at each other
as I was pulled upright. She couldn't hold the stare, though. She kept
looking at me, then turning her eyes away. Then back. She was wearing a
simple little shift with thin straps like a full slip. It might have
been silk. I could see her shoulders and her arms and her legs just
above her knees, the tops of her breasts, and it seemed Richard had
half-lied to me. She was thin, thinner even than in the photos. I'd
expected that. What didn't I expect? Almost anything else. My image of
her had been as a survivor of Auschwitz. She was nothing like that. She
was leaner and more nicely muscled than showed in the jpeg picture, as
though she worked out a lot. There were no obvious bruises on her body,
none at all. She was perfect.

"Alice, Henry. Henry, Alice. You two have met." Richard was beaming.
Had he ever been worried about the madman with the gun? "Henry here has
become impatient. He wants to hear from you directly, love, in detail,
that it is true you have left him to be with me. I'm afraid he's
insistent, so this can't be put off any more. You'll just have to tell
him."

Then, yes, there was something. I thought I saw reddish discolorations
on Alice's wrists. Thin lines. Like ligature marks. He hadn't exactly
half lied. He'd at least partly told the truth.

Alice fiddled. I thought she might not say anything, but Richard was
patient. He smiled at her as though she was a creation of his, about to
demonstrate his creativity. Finally she couldn't not speak anymore. 

"Oh, Henry!" she began. 

What an awful start. That had been a joke with us. O'Henry. I was her
favorite candy bar, the one she ate slowly to savor the taste. How long
ago had that been? It certainly wasn't a joke now, just a sign that she
didn't know what to say. Another false start. "Why did you come here?
I'm not coming back. I'm sorry for hurting you, but it's over. You have
to move on, Henry. It's over. It's really over."

Richard nodded at me. My time to speak.

"Why?"

"Why did I leave?"

"Why did you leave? Yes. You said you loved me. And why with him? You
hated him. How could you go to him? How did he brainwash you? You! Tell
me how it happened. Explain it!"

Alice looked at Richard, then at me. She started to say something.
Finally, "It's too complicated. I can't tell you everything. I was
suffocating. I wasn't fulfilled. Richard fulfills me."

To that there was no answer. I didn't fulfill her. What could you say?
We didn't fulfill each other. I'd been unfulfilled for years. It was
the way of things, except that Richard could fulfill everything. Come
one, come all. All yearnings will be quenched. All desires will be
sated.

"How long?"

"How long what?"

"When did it start?"

"After New Year's." He had been truthful, no? I didn't try to say
anything, to argue with her. It was silent again, so Richard stepped
in. He had a big grin again.

"It's like I told you, Henry. I offered what she needed and she came
over. Now she's mine. She does what I want. Tell him, Alice."

Alice looked down at the floor. She hesitated again. She really didn't
want to say anything else to me. "Richard is right, Henry. He's so full
of life. He takes charge ... and we satisfy each other."

"You fucking bitch. I wish I'd killed you." I said it but I couldn't
put any force behind it. It was over. Beyond over. That last faint
hope.

Richard's smirk grew into a grin. 

"Actually Henry still loves you. He'll hope against hope. You need to
make it final, Alice. Look him in the eye and tell him. Show him how
proud you are to be my girl."

Something was stirring. Something was going to happen. Alice moved her
head to look at me. She spoke more softly.

"It's true, Henry. I'm his. I'm sorry for you."

Richard spoke again when she said she was sorry, so quickly he almost
cut her off. "Let me demonstrate, Henry. Alice, strip for us." She
jerked around toward him. She spoke directly to him in a half whisper,
cutting her eyes over toward me two or three times.

"Richard! Please. Not in front of him!"

Again it could have been almost cute. She didn't want me to know what
she said. She spoke between gritted teeth, in a half-whisper. She could
have been warning, ix-nay in front of the ildren-chay.

"Alice, you'll do what I say or you can leave right now."

She looked like she'd been slapped.

"Please, Richard. You know I'll do anything for you. Everything. I've
shown you that." She raised her hands, palms upward, supplicating.
"Just don't make it be in front of him."

"It's a simple concept, Alice. Either you do as I say or you don't. I
won't remind you again."

I knew she would strip, that I'd see her body, the one I'd known
innumerable times, though not for weeks and not in person since she'd
improved on it. I wanted to see it. It would almost be like seeing a
new woman's body for the first time. I hated her but I began to grow a
hard-on. That's right Richard, you fucker. Why don't you humiliate her?
I'd like that. My keepers didn't seem at all interested in what was
happening, though. Ho-hum. Another stripping in front of the betrayed
husband. Their grips never changed.

And she did it. She lowered her head and lifted her arms to begin
pulling the shift. Up it came, slowly, showing her thighs. When it
reached her vagina I saw she was naked under it, and that she was bare.
Smooth, pale skin with brownish tips to her labia. No unsightly hair.
Her legs were smooth. Her body was smooth. She lifted the shift higher
and I saw a little ring at the top of her slit, right where her
clitoris was. He hadn't mentioned that and it wasn't in the jpeg files.
Well, it fit the scene, didn't it? There was another in her navel. When
she'd lifted the silk high enough I could see rings in both nipples.
They went through the nipples themselves, not through the areolas above
them. He'd been busy with her. Then her hands were over her head and
she dropped the shift to the floor. She stood with her arms at her
sides. Nothing was hidden. Her body told me more. There were no welts.
There were no bruises. What had he done to her? What hadn't he done?
God, I wanted to fuck her!

Richard put a hand to her left breast, grabbed it, and moved it around
in a perfectly proprietary fondle. "Look at Henry," he said.

She raised her head. Her eyes were slits when she looked at me, but
she'd done it. She'd shown herself to be Richard's toy. Do whatever he
wants. Richard's special little thing.

"Now let's show him what else you've learned, sweet Alice." She turned
back toward him. "I need your mouth again and you need more of my seed
inside you." She didn't move. She didn't even breathe. "Get on your
knees and unzip me."

No one else in the room moved, either. To me it was as if the earth
stood still for the moment. Alice opened her mouth a little and began
to breathe again, but she didn't say anything. She looked once more
toward me, just a glance, turned back toward Richard, and dropped to
her knees. It's stupid, abysmal, but they reminded me of a tableau of
the virgin Mary, depicted from the side, worshipping Jesus as he
emerges from the tomb. Oh shit, Alice. Can't you see what he's doing?
But it's a simple concept. He says. You do. And he won't remind you
again.

"Very good, Alice." Richard sounded like an indulgent father coaching
his child.

She fumbled with his zipper. It took her two or three tries to get it
all the way down. She stopped for a second before reaching inside his
pants. His penis came out bent, the middle first. The head was tangled
in his underwear, but then - pop! - there it was, big and fleshy and
almost ready for action. Once it was completely out and had begun to
rise up in a curve, she slumped back on her heels and her hands fell to
her lap. Her breasts were rising and falling, her mouth still slightly
open. It would be open much further in a few minutes. 

I had a raging erection by now. Suck me, you slut! Suck me!

After a few seconds had gone by, Richard put a hand on top of Alice's
head. "Show your love, dear." She took a large breath, rose up on her
knees, reached out her right hand, and grabbed Richard's penis in the
middle. She pulled it down toward her face. Only the head was showing
past her fist. She brought the head to her mouth, took another large
breath, leaned to it, stuck out her tongue and licked entirely around
it. She opened her mouth further and took the head entirely in, slid it
through her lips, sucked, and pulled it back out through tight lips.
She was staring, it seemed, straight into Richard's fuzz while she
worked it.

"Ahh!" said Richard. "You see, Henry? This is what she does when she's
really yours."

Alice pulled his dick to her mouth again. She sucked on it like a
lollipop for a minute, in and out. Head goes in, head goes out. Repeat.
Again. Then she took it in deeper and started to pump him.

"Not so fast, Alice. Slow yourself down. Savor it." He drew in his
breath in a hiss. When he came out of his little frisson he looked at
me again. "You train them to take their time, to see to your full
pleasure to make it slow and worthwhile. That's how she can best be a
helpmeet when you come home late and tired. I've had Alice suck me for
an hour in the evening, while we watched a film, right Alice?" Alice
stopped sucking. She didn't remove the dick but nodded through it. She
didn't look at anyone, not even up at him. Finally, she pulled
Richard's meat out again, licked it, and sucked it back in.

Richard hissed again.

"Now you're going to be privileged, Henry. You're going to see her do
something many women can't. She's going to take me all the way in and
get throat fucked." Alice paused and looked up at him. "Are we ready,
dear?"

Oh God, here it comes! The pièce de résistance. But the men holding me
weren't affected by this either. Ho-hum. Just another blow job in front
of the betrayed husband. Do we get overtime? Or maybe they got to live
that lifestyle the feminists accuse all us guys of living, so they were
jaded. I'd like a chance to get that jaded with Alice. I wanted to fuck
her mouth and make her take it.

Alice prepared herself. I guess. I'd never seen a throat fuck done
live. She pulled Richard's erection so it was pointing almost down, and
she shifted her head and her body. Richard said, "Here we go," and
pushed his hips to her mouth. Damn! He went a short way and stopped.
Alice made a retching sound. "Remember, Alice, swallow it like a nice,
big sausage." He pushed again and this time continued until her mouth
was all the way up against his groin. 

"Fuck, Henry!" He was breathing harder. "You don't know how good this
is, in so deep and tight. I could asphyxiate her, you know." 

He pulled back out, almost all the way out. I could hear Alice make a
little sound. It was just a little bark. When it was gone I could hear
her breathing, fast and deep, and her chest was rising and falling.
"Round two, Alice." He pushed in again. This time he made it in one
smooth thrust. Again he held himself in her for a moment before pulling
out. You can't know how wonderful it was, my slut wife's jaw open wide,
her throat distended just behind her chin, her face mashed up against
his body. Wonderful. He didn't give her time to catch her breath.
Another push. Alice slapped at his thigh with one hand. I could see her
face was changing. She was turning red. Her eyes were wild. He slapped
her hand away and held himself inside her another few seconds, until
she began to wriggle. He pulled out about half way, just enough that I
could hear a phlegmy wheeze from Alice, then he went all the way in
again. Alice's face was red. Her eyes were watering. Her chin was
becoming covered in saliva. Each time he pulled out there was the sound
of her wheezing and coughing, bare wet breaths, before Richard plunged
again. He thrust all the way in three, four, five more times before
finally pulling all the way out. 

Alice leaned against Richard's leg, her breath rattling in her throat,
wiping her mouth on his slacks. Her breasts were heaving - such a nice
nineteenth century phrase. Richard's dick was completely 21st century,
standing straight up.

"You'll have to work on your breath control, dear girl. This is nice,
but I want to finish for the good audience, so come do me right." 

I didn't think she could still have it in her. But she righted herself
and took his dick again and brought it to her mouth and sucked. She
started jacking him inside her mouth, and he began to thrust. "That's
my little girl, that's it!" He was hissing again. "Almost there. Show
little Henry how good you are. Show it! Now!" At `now' he pulled out of
her, took his dick in his hand, and shot onto her face, one, two, three
good splashes before he put it back to her mouth so she could finish
getting everything. I could see come meandering down one of her cheeks.

* * * * * *

It seemed to me that everyone was acting oddly calm. I was exploding,
full of hate and lust and depression and madness, but I couldn't move.
My handlers still seemed all business. Armand stood with his hands
across his chest, looking down at Alice with something like distain.
Alice herself slumped back on her heels again, still breathing fast. 

And Richard? He unfastened his pants, put his penis back inside, tucked
his shirt in nicely, and fastened himself back up. All business, as
though he were just getting ready to exit the executive men's room.

"Well, there you have it, Henry." His voice was already back to
booming. "That's how a well-trained woman will show her devotion. Quite
a show, no?"

I started to say something, but he cut me off. 

"There's just one more thing, Henry." Here came the beating. No. "I see
you're still infatuated with the sweet thing. I can understand why, and
I don't want her to come between us. So, in order to let bygones be
bygones ... I'm giving her back to you as a present. Enjoy her in good
health."

Alice's jaw actually dropped. The room went completely dead for a
second.

"What!" Alice almost screamed. "What are you saying, Richard? Don't
joke like that. It's not funny!" She tried to laugh.

"No joke, Alice. It's over. You're going back to Henry." He was
completely calm, self-composed, efficient.

"Richard! No! You can't mean it!"

"It's time, Alice. We had fun."

"Richard, no! I've done everything for you! Everything!"

"And in return you received more than the standard nine and one-half
weeks of glorious fantasy. It was a fair exchange."

"I gave up my whole life for you!" She looked around the room with
little, jerky movements of her head. She was rubbing mucous from her
face. "My job. My ... marriage. Richard!"

"Well, those were your choices. Time to go back to the real world,
dearie."

"No!" She lunged at him from her knees but he pushed her away.

"Armand, will you get a couple of people to take Ms. Alice?"

"Richard!" Her voice was shrill, almost hoarse, desperate,
uncomprehending.

"Give her a change of clothes and see that she gets off the grounds
with Mr. Henry."

From nowhere three or four people, men and women, came in to take Alice
away. They had to grab both her arms, two on each side because she was
struggling so much. She was sobbing, screaming "Richard! No!" over and
over. She'd been completely blindsided. I hadn't. I'd had an inkling
from the moment he made her strip that he was almost finished with her.
It was the first time I was able to predict his action. As they started
to pull her away he told everyone, "This is unacceptable decorum! From
now on Ms. Alice isn't welcome here."

"Richard!" I tried to boom up at him.

"Yes?"

"There's just one other thing. I don't want her anymore. I won't take
her back!"

Richard smiled a large, friendly smile. "And after I'd worked so hard
to train her! Well, that's your choice." He turned toward the hall. You
could still hear Alice struggling and crying. "Armand! Give Ms. Alice a
couple of thousand and escort her to a hotel. She won't be going with
Mr. Henry." He looked at the larger of the two men still holding me.
"George, we will have to work on our security. And oh yes, once Mr.
Henry is off the grounds you can return his pistol to him. But Henry.
Don't you ever come back or I'll file a complaint." 

As they were pulling me away his voice boomed out one last time, "No
hard feelings!" I don't know if he meant mine or his.

* * * * *

Richard's game was the kind you'd play if you were a son of a bitch, if
you planned on burning all your bridges to past friendships, if you
hated them, or at least held a grudge that made you want - being a son
of a bitch - to hurt both of them as much as possible, individually and
as a team. How better to do it? Seduce her. Ruin their marriage. Rip
apart his manhood. Humiliate her and cast her aside. Richard managed it
beautifully and as a bonus got all the pleasures of domination and sex.
He's a loathsome beast, but you have to appreciate his creativity. It's
a rare gift.

I was done for. That was clear. 

Nothing mattered, not anymore. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing at
all. There were millions of happy people in the world, I'm sure, just
not here. I lay around the house, wouldn't take my calls, didn't eat. I
was a man in solitary. Why wouldn't they arrive to put me out of my
misery? Every day was the same. Nothing happened, nothing changed,
nothing had meaning. I sat in an overstuffed chair and listened to the
CD of Richard's first call, while I went through the sex photos, but
mainly I replayed the scene of Alice doing Richard. How proficient she
was with her mouth! It was like a hamster's wheel in my head, spinning
around so I saw the same actions and heard the same sounds in a
never-ending cycle. My wife, acting out a pornographic script. I
couldn't get away from it no matter what I did, and I did all the
traditional things of betrayed husbands. I threw things. I punched
holes in sheetrock. I cried. I took pills, drank until I threw up. Even
with that I couldn't sleep and I couldn't get the energy to do
anything. Occasionally I had to go to the office. There was still
business to attend to. At least I hadn't given up my career like Alice.
That stupid bitch. But I tried to go in mainly at night, when no one
else was around and let my office manager handle everything as best she
could. I took long drives in the desert, in the night air.

One day I got another DVD in the mail from Richard. It had the whole
last scene from his den on it, in the blurry black and white of a
surveillance video, and he had written "Enjoy!" on the jewel case. 

That afternoon I filed for divorce. At least I didn't have to give
Alice some easy, no-fault, quickie, Vegas divorce. Oh no! I wanted it
to be on grounds of infidelity, mental cruelty, and abandonment. I
filed a civil suit, to get as much of her property as possible. The
only problem was they couldn't locate her, so she couldn't be served
papers right away, but my attorney said there weren't going to be any
big problems. I had plenty of documentation. He even got me a temporary
injunction, giving me control over the house. I felt better after that,
sold the gun and the used cars, cleaned up the place. My place. I
changed the locks, threw out things of hers I didn't like, trashed her
photos, boxed up her clothes and sent them to charity, and did
everything else I could to remove her from my life. This was much
better. The dreams stopped. I began working regularly. Weeks passed. I
thought of dating.

Then Alice showed up.

* * * * *

The doorbell rang. The damned doorbell again! I should have heeded its
warning. One instant everything was looking up and I was finished with
that part of my life. The moment I opened the door and saw her standing
there, I fell into a black hole. 

She looked straight at my chest and didn't say anything. No! No, no,
no, no, no!

"Get the fuck out of my life!" I slammed the door. 

The doorbell rang again. I didn't answer it, but I was shaking and
hyperventilating. Is this how it's going to be? You can't be prepared
for it. You can't know what it will be like when she reappears.

She rang for an hour, every few minutes, and she knocked and called to
me through the door, "Please. Henry. Please talk to me." I stayed away
from it. I thought of her as a vampire. Just like him. She couldn't rip
my chest open if I didn't invite her in. Yes she could.

Finally she grew quiet. After I'd looked out the window and not seen
her, I decided it was safe to leave. I opened the garage door and
backed the car out. It was explosively hot. Spring in Las Vegas. It
felt like Hell, and to make sure I knew it was Hell, there sat Alice,
on the porch, beside the front door, in a patch of shade, not looking
at anything. I made sure to close the garage door, staring at its white
panels moving down through the sunlight and urging it on. Hurry, hurry!
By the time it was down I saw spots. Alice raised her head and started
to rise, stiffly, using the brickwork to help her up, but I was quick.
I lowered the window: "You aren't welcome here! If you want to talk,
see my lawyer. If you're still here when I get back I'm calling the
police." 

She stood up and said something, I think it was "please," and took a
few steps toward me, but I didn't give her a chance.

Fuck. How to get rid of her? Fuck. The police would probably side with
her. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Go away you Richard-sucking whore! I stayed the
night in a motel.

The next morning I told my office manager to call security if Alice
showed up there. "Don't you think you should talk to her?" she asked.

"Maybe you'd like to look for a new job, Sherrie!" 

She stiffened. 

"Look, okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. But you don't know
everything she did. I can't even tell you the long version without it
being sexual harassment." 

Sherrie was quiet much of the day, canceling appointments for me again,
while I sat in my office and stared out the window. About 4:30 she came
in and shut the door. "Look, Henry, you can fire me if you want, but
I've known you for a long time. You need to clear the air. Talk. Then
you can go your different ways. You don't know all of why she did what
she did, and it's time you stopped letting that asshole Richard control
your life! That's all I have to say." 

What had I done for weeks but try to talk with Alice? But no, she
wouldn't consider it while she had him. When I walked over to Sherrie
she flinched like she thought I was going to hit her. I gave her a kiss
on top of her head. "I know you mean well, but I just can't do that
anymore."

All the way home I thought please don't be there. Please be gone.
Please don't do this to me.

* * * * *

Alice was still sitting in that patch of shade. Had she even moved? Was
she going to sit there until she died? When she heard the garage door
she got to her feet again, very slowly. I pulled in and closed it.

She didn't ring the bell, but when I peeked through a side window she
was standing, leaning against the wall, her face in her hands. She
looked sunburned. Jesus. Shit. What do I do now? What in the world do I
do? I filled a large glass with water, walked to the door, opened it,
and held the glass out to her. "Here." 

She was only about six or eight feet from the door, but it took her the
longest time to get to me. She took the water and gulped it down. She
drank it in three breaths. I took the glass back. Our hands touched.
"Stay here." 

I closed the door, went to the sink, refilled the glass, and brought it
back to her. Again she stopped twice for air while she drank it. I took
the glass away again and closed the door. The third time I opened it I
stood in the doorway and asked, "What do you want?"

She hesitated, as if she wanted to formulate some words. She made a
raspy little crying sound, though there were no tears. When she spoke
her voice was hoarse. "Oh, Henry. I want to come home." That was it.

* * * * *

"You can't stay with me."

"I want to come home. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." Her voice trailed off.

"Go away." There was a silence for a minute.

"I don't have anywhere to go."

"Get yourself a place!"

"I don't have any money, or a job. I don't have you. I don't have
anything..." She began moaning, sounding again like she wanted to cry
but had too little water in her.

"Go to Deb's!" Now she began crying. So she had tears after all. She
didn't try to wipe them. They rolled down her cheeks and onto her
blouse.

"She won't speak to me." Huh?

"Why not? Just because you left me?"

"No. It was more. Please, Henry, listen. When I was with, you know, he
said he wanted to do a thing with me and her together. So I called her
and tried to get her to do it. I ruined everything." She put her hands
to her face again, and this time her shoulders started shaking. She
could hardly talk, gasping and sobbing and snarfing like she was. "How
could I do it? I don't know what got in to me! Please help me, Henry.
Help me!"

"So as a last resort you come to your old patsy Henry. Maybe you could
make this more interesting by fucking someone in front of me!"

But she just kept shaking. Eventually she'd have to stop, wouldn't she?
Finally she tried to talk again, though she stopped every few words to
pant. "Henry. I know, I know you hate me. I did the most terrible thing
to you. But I need help. Please help me. If you could just let me stay
here a few nights. Just a few? Please, Henry. You can do anything you
want to me, I don't care! Just help me, please."

Let her stay. Let her invade my house and bring all that back. I didn't
even ask why she didn't try to talk to Richard. Of course she'd tried.
I bet he'd enjoyed that. What would Richard do anyway? An idea
developed. What? Yes, that. Oh yes! Yes, this could be good, you whore.

"Come on in. I have something to show you." I led her to the den and
put the DVD - yes that DVD - on the player. "Look at this, Alice." She
was wiping her eyes and looking from me to the player, uncertain. When
she figured out what it was she put her hands to her mouth and moaned.

"No! Not that! Henry, turn it off!"

"Why? You were the main entertainment. I thought you'd like to see
yourself perform. Didn't you like it?"

"No!"

"You didn't? Isn't it your perfect little fantasy?"

"No!"

I yelled at her. "And then you have the balls to come to me as your
last resort? Poor dear Henry's supposed to let you use him again!"

"No, please! I need help!"

"At least you didn't completely lie! You didn't even bother to try to
say you loved me!" 

That was when I slapped her face as hard as I could. She huffed and
turned almost all the way around, and her hands came up. When she
turned back to me I could see my hand print on her cheek, much larger
than the hand she held over it. "You fucking bitch! You said I could do
whatever I want with you. Well, this is what I want!" I slapped her on
the other side of her face. God, it felt good, and her cry was
delightful, wonderful. I wanted to hear it over and over again.

"No! Please!"

I yanked one of her hands away and slapped her again. "You'll take your
damn medicine..."

"No! Henry!"

"Take off your clothes!" I hit her in the belly with my fist. She half
crumpled. "Do it now, you fucking slut!" My penis was swelling. Hit her
again. Do it! Oh, sweet Jesus, she was going to pay.

I'd knocked the breath out of her. It was a few seconds before she
could manage to say anything. "I'll do it! Please!" I slapped her
again. She was trying to unbutton her blouse but she couldn't with me
hitting her, so I grabbed it and tore it all the way down the front. I
grabbed her arm to turn her around and yanked the fastener to her bra.
Suddenly her back was smooth and bare and lean. It gave me an idea. I
slapped her back hard, leaving another lovely red handprint, and she
gasped. I was completely erect now. Fuck, yes!

"Your skirt and panties! Hurry!" 

"Please!" We were both yelling. She hurried, unfastening the skirt and
pulling it and her panties down together. While she did that I took off
my belt. The moment she was naked I whipped her with it.

"Take it, you bitch!" Alice screamed and jerked and twisted around,
pulling her arms in front of her face, but she didn't try to run. I
whipped her again. She made a sound like a neighing horse. I liked it
more than the other cries. In the middle of this I noticed her vagina
was still bare. She was still shaving. The bitch! I turned the belt the
other way. Hit her with the buckle end! "Take that for your cunt!" The
belt whistled and made a jingling sound when it hit her labia. "This
one is for sucking off Richard!" The buckle hit her side, and she fell
to the floor. I pulled her onto her back. "Take that for soaking
yourself in their jizz!" I whipped her on her belly. 

She kept twisting. She was screaming continuously, begging me, "Please
no! Please no!" I saw blood. 

The next one hit her hip, the next one her side. "These are for ruining
my life!" The one thing she never did was try to run. It was too bad,
because I'd have liked to chase her down. I hit her again. Again.
Again. Again. I hit her again and noticed she had stopped responding.
No cries, no squirming, nothing. I pulled the belt back and held it.
Her arms had fallen away from her face. I hit her once more, but all
she did was moan, low and soft, the sound of air seeping through a
corpse's throat. I lifted an arm and dropped it. It was like cooked
spaghetti. I hit her again, just to make sure. Nothing.

The idea came that I could tie her to the bed and whip her still more
once she came around, then fuck her any way I wanted. "Stay there!" I
yelled, and went to get my neckties.

It was in the bedroom that I realized I was covered in sweat. I was
shaking. I could hear my pulse beating in my ears. Shit! The bitch!
Fucking bitch, getting me like this! She was going to stay here
forever. She was never going to get out in the world again. She was
going to be mine no matter what, and she would beg me to kill her but
I'd make her keep taking it. I'd make her do things she'd never done
for Richard. I'd start by making her suck me while I finished whipping
her. I just had to make sure she never got away.

But she hadn't tried to run. What was that? There was this voice. It
was mine. She didn't run. Why not? It was like she knew she deserved
the whipping. She knew she deserved it. 

Don't think of that!

That's why she'd sat outside so long. To punish herself. 

Don't think of that! I have to go whip her some more, and make her suck
me! Then I'll make her eat my shit!

But she didn't run, you bastard!

A huge wave rushed from some earthquake far under the sea, along the
coast and then deep into the desert, where it jostled the room, rocking
it, making me sway, making me dizzy. I had to sit on the bed. There was
no earthquake. Alice was the earthquake. She thought she deserved being
whipped. No. Please don't do that, Alice. Not that. My chest was tight.
My head was exploding. It hurt. It was killing me, but I didn't care.
Not that, Alice. Please, no. I put my head down in my lap and felt my
blood pound inside me. Please don't ruin my vengeance.

* * * * *

When I could get up I went out to look at her. My shirt was wet. My
hair was plastered to my head. I leaned against the doorframe,
wondering how to approach her. What had I become? She was making little
sounds, but I really couldn't tell if she was completely conscious
until I knelt over her and touched her. She opened her eyes wide, and
shrieked, and backed up to the coffee table, moving like a crab, then
brought her arms and legs up until she was curled in a ball, almost
fetal. She stared at me as you would at the man who was going to carry
out the hanging, and drawing, and quartering. "No more! Please! No
more! No more!"

How much do you have to beg before it does some good? I sat myself
slowly onto the carpet. 

"I won't. I won't. I won't hurt you any more." I sat for a minute,
wondering what to say. "No more." I moved to her slowly, to keep from
scaring her. I placed a hand atop her arm, gently, and left it there,
just resting on her, while I looked over her body. "I promise. Never
again." Had I hit her that many times? Three or four wounds were
bleeding, and I was afraid others would start seeping. "Wait here. I'll
get some bandages."

I had to concentrate on the task, to get through it. One thing at a
time. One step follows the other, I thought, but there was no course to
be followed here, no good outcome. Alice shivered when I pulled her
arms and legs out from her body, and when I helped her lie on a towel.
She shivered some more while I sprayed cold antibacterial mist over her
major wounds, washed them, and bandaged them. I had to ask her to turn
on her stomach so I could do her back. I was speaking in a soft tone,
to keep from frightening her more, and she was growing calmer, but she
was still quaking. She watched me and responded to what I said. She
didn't say anything herself. Dear Lord, her left cheek and lips were
swollen. I went for an ice pack. It made her shiver more to hold it
against her face

Now she needed clothes. The next task. Take things in order. There were
no clothes of hers in the house, so I got an oversized Las Vegas
t-shirt.

"I'm sorry. I dumped all your clothes. This will have to do for now,
until I can get you some new things." She shifted her hips to help me
pull up her panties, and she sat up so I could get the tee on her. I
had to help her sit.

"Can you stand?" Not without help and not very well. She put down the
ice pack and I took both her hands to pull her up, and she was so
wobbly that I had to let her lean against me, to hold her up. I could
feel her still quaking. "Have you eaten anything?"

She shook her head and burrowed it into me. I'd have thought she
couldn't stand touching me. And me, I was afraid to let her do that,
afraid of what I would want to do. When she spoke, for the first time
since the storm, her voice was still hoarse, and so quiet I had trouble
hearing her. "Not much. I didn't have any more money. I was sneaking
... from casinos, but I was caught and sent away."

"What about the money Richard gave you?" I could smell her hair.

"It didn't go very far. Motels. My car broke down. I used the last to
try to win a stake at blackjack." She coughed and burrowed her head
into my shoulder again. "I lost it all. Just like me." 

By then I was somewhere out in the cosmos. She could have gotten access
to our money if she'd really tried, if she had any survival skills at
all. I had this image of her starving in the midst of plenty, dying of
thirst beside a cool spring. What happened to her? She had always been
smart and practical. Then I knew what had happened. Oh, dear God. Dear
God, indeed. It was an act of contrition.

"Well, come on. Let's get you something." She leaned on me all the way
to the kitchen. I helped her sit down and poured her some milk. There
were fresh grapes. She liked grilled-cheese sandwiches, so I started
making one. She sat passively and watched everything I did. Every few
minutes a fit of shaking swept through her.

What was I thinking? That my hatred had evaporated. It didn't matter
what she'd done. She wasn't even my Alice anymore, just a poor, lost
soul. I wanted to be kind to her.

Her cheek looked awful. I gave her the ice pack again and told her to
keep it on until the skin grew numb. What was she thinking? Was she
wondering if I'd help her? Or if I'd decide to hurt her again? I think
she knew the answers. Neither of us spoke while I cut the sandwich.
What small talk do you make with a woman you've just whipped
unconscious? 

"You kept yourself looking nice."

She tried to smile. "I washed my clothes in restrooms and wore them out
into the air to dry."

"You stayed shaved." Why did I bring that up? It really didn't matter.
Maybe better not to talk.

After a moment she said something in a weepy-sounding voice: "At first
I thought he might take me back. Later, I thought I could sell myself.
And I should look right. For the customers." A sigh. "I was trying to,"
she paused, "sell myself when another casino ... well, security caught
me loitering. They passed my picture around."

"And you tried to kill yourself."

She startled. 

"How did you know that?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't say these things, but it just came to me. It
fit with everything else."

She began to cry again.

"I'm sorry, Alice. It'll be okay. You'll see." I got a dish towel and
began to dab her eyes, but she pushed my hand away. When she spoke it
was just over a whisper.

"I didn't really try. I almost did. Twice. But I wasn't brave enough. I
thought of it every day." 

"I'm sorry, Alice. Really. I shouldn't have said anything. That's all
past. Things will get better. You'll see." This time she let me dry her
face.

More trouble: she wouldn't eat. "You need to, Alice. To get your
strength back." But she said she couldn't. Finally we agreed that I
would eat half the sandwich and we would each take bites in turn. She
took tiny ones. She finished half the glass of milk but only a quarter
sandwich. She'd nibbled a little bit of grape. That was it before she
faded. 

"Come on, let's get you to bed." She began swaying again the moment she
stood, so I let her lean on me again and helped her to the bathroom. I
found a toothbrush. Then I helped her to the guest bedroom. Some buckle
wounds were already seeping through the shirt. After everything, I
decided I could face taking her to a clinic. I couldn't take the chance
of infection. They would recognize those wounds. They'd know. I'd have
to turn myself in for aggravated assault or something. That was for
later. First she had to be strong enough to manage on her own. I
bandaged her again, while she sat on the bed, and I got her a clean
tee.

In bed, the sheet pulled up, Alice was more fragile looking, and - even
with her swollen face - more beautiful, than anyone I had ever known.
Yes, not my Alice, but mine in a way. She took my hand as I rose.

"Henry. The reason I didn't tell you I loved you." I stood quietly over
her. "It was because I don't have the right to tell you that. Not any
more. I don't have the right to put that on you." She was going to cry
again. My Alice. I sat back on the edge of the bed. I wanted to fold
her in my arms and carry her away. All I did was keep hold of her hand.

"Don't you think you've been punished enough?"

"That's not it, Henry."

"Alice, I'm not an idiot. You have an IRA. Until a few weeks ago you
could have gotten money from our accounts. You could have gotten a new
credit card."

She lay there looking up at me, holding my hand, and I knew she knew I
knew. 

"You know what I think, Alice? I think you decided you deserved to be
in Hell. That's what I think. Well, I don't agree with you." I saw
myself whipping her. I winced when I remembered her begging. "Earlier I
did, and I was wrong too. I'm so sorry."

I bent to kiss her forehead. So soft, so soft, so soft, so soft, so
soft. I'll never get to kiss you again.

"And it's okay. You don't have to pretend you love me. We'll work
everything out."

I had to leave quickly. I didn't want to be weak in front of her.

* * * * *

Flipping through the TV channels. Picking up books and magazines.
Tossing them. Web surfing. Pouring a glass of Scotch and leaving it
standing. Pacing. Pacing. Pacing. Thinking I'd like to drive through
the desert again, but then Alice might wake up during the night and be
afraid. Pacing. Picking up the glass of Scotch, sipping it, putting it
down. Web surfing. Kicking books and magazines. Flipping through the TV
channels.

I got a navel orange from the refrigerator. It was cold and sweet and
bright-tasting. Remember how Alice's vagina tasted like something
citrus? Why had she stopped wanting me to eat her? Don't go there. In
some way it's part of everything that happened. 

I showered, brushed my teeth, pulled on shorts and a tee, and walked
out onto the porch to let my mind wander. Here was the spot Alice had
stood, then sat for so long, tormenting herself. Absolutely alone in
the world, hating herself. There was a sweet smell in the desert air.
Something blooming. We were far from the casinos, so far I could see
thousands of stars. I wondered if I should call my attorney before I
went to the police. It seemed reasonable. He might help me get quick
bail, so I would be able to pick up some clothes for her, something she
could wear when she went to find real clothes. How long would she need
to stay with me? It might be better if I put her up in an apartment.
Wait! A shooting star! If only I were superstitious, I'd wish for
something good to come of this. I kept smelling the desert air so it
would stay with me when I went back inside. I'd miss it in jail.

I looked in on Alice. She was asleep, but the sheets were tangled.

I tossed in bed for the longest time until I fell into the dream of
Alice. It was the usual dream, her on the bed and inflamed, me on the
floor, the six men jerking off over her body. Suddenly I was awake. Is
she home? Damn! Of course she's home, for now. Remember.

I turned to look at the clock, and when I did I saw a long lump on the
floor beside the bed - Alice, wrapped in a blanket.

 "Alice. Alice. Is something wrong?"

She half-turned and looked up at me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to be alone. I didn't mean to wake you. You
looked so peaceful." 

If only.

"Were you having nightmares?"

"No. I was afraid. At first I was okay but then it came over me. I
couldn't stand being alone. Can I stay in here? I promise I won't
bother you."

"Sure. Look, come on up."

She didn't move. 

"No. I don't want to bother you."

"It's okay. You'll be more comfortable up here and it won't bother me."


She climbed into the bed, atop the spread.

"In the bed, Alice. You may as well be comfortable."

She nested herself under the covers, on her side, turned away from me,
on the far edge. I watched her until I grew sleepy again. I began to
fall asleep when she jerked. It was like an explosion.

"Alice?"

"I'm sorry, Henry. I'm bothering you." She sounded scared.

"You had a fright attack."
 
"Uh-huh."

 "Okay, let's try something a little different." I was afraid to offer.
"Let's do spoons." 

"Henry, no. I don't want to bother you." 

"It'll help you, and you know I can sleep like that." Dear strange
woman, let me nurture you, if only for tonight, if only for a few days.
I realize I never completely knew you, but I know you need someone now.

Alice didn't argue or, in fact, say anything. She moved to the middle
of the bed, turned onto her right side, and snuggled back into me. She
put her head on my right arm and her left hand in my right. I draped my
left hand over her waist, pulled myself all the way up to her, put my
face to her hair, and kissed her.

She whispered something. "Thank you, Henry."

I squeezed her hand and kissed her again. In a few minutes her
breathing became deep and regular, and I could let myself fall asleep.

End.



Find H. Jekyll's stories at --http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/h_jekyll/
and 
"Ruthie's Club" -- http://www.ruthiesclub.com/


		
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