"Fantasy"

by H. Jekyll

Part Four of Four: Alice 

* * * * *

Copyright 2004 by H. Jekyll. Permission is 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.

"Fantasy" previously appeared at "Ruthie's Club." 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.org/files/Authors/h_jekyll/),
and at "Ruthie's Club."

* * * * *

"Fantasy, Part Four: Alice"

Alice showed up. Listen to it. Three simple words with 
monstrous meaning. She wasn't there, and then she was. She 
was announced by the doorbell. 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. 
Then she was standing in the doorway, looking straight at 
my chest, silent, like a ghost or a zombie or something. 
No! No, no, no, no, no!

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

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 paced as quietly as I 
could. Don't let her hear you. Maybe she'll go away. 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 
had 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. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. But you 
don't know everything she did. I can't 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 to her. 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 Moriarty control your life! That's all I have 
to say." 

What had I done for weeks - months? - but try to talk with 
Alice? She wouldn't consider that while she had him. She'd 
had her chance. 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. I can't take it.

* * * * *

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 two breaths. I took the 
glass back. Our hands touched. "Stay there." 

I closed the door, went to the sink, refilled the glass, 
and brought it back to her. Again she stopped once 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." 

"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. 
"What have I done? What have I done? 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! 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!" She was screaming and begging virtually at the 
same time. She pulled her arms up in front of her face, to 
protect herself.

"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 moment before 
she could manage to say anything. "I'll do it! Please!" I 
slapped her again. She tried 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 staggered. 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 again, 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. She grabbed herself. "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 stopped responding. No cries, no squirming. 
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 as much as 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 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! Think of it!

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. Don't do that, Alice. Not that. Don't ruin my 
lovely rape, my beautiful torture, my vengeance. 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. 

* * * * *

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 and wondered 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, "No 
more! Please! No more! No more!" She scurried back 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 like you would at the man who was going to 
carry out the hanging and drawing and quartering. She 
shook, and her breath came in little bursts.

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. What could I 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." 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 still feel her 
trembling. 

"Have you eaten anything?"

She shook her head and burrowed her face 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's gone. Motels mainly. My car broke down. I used the 
last to try to win a stake at blackjack." She coughed and 
burrowed 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.

She answered, though, in a weepy 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?"

"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 openly.

"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. 

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

"I'm sorry. Really. I shouldn't have said anything. That's 
all past. Things will get better." 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. I decided I couldn't 
take the chance of infection. I'd have to take her to a 
clinic. They would recognize those wounds. They'd know. I'd 
have to turn myself in. 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 
over her, my hand in hers. "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 heard 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.

* * * * *

There was nothing more to be done. Wait for the curtain to 
fall. There I was, with Alice, but alone. 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 need me. Pacing. 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 straightened them out. Be careful. Don't wake 
her.

I finally went to bed but I tossed for the longest time, 
and then I fell into the dream of Alice. It was the usual 
dream, her on the bed and inflamed, me on the floor, the 
men jerking off over her body. Suddenly I was awake. Is she 
home? Damn! Of course she's home, for now. Remember? Is she 
really here? Go look in on her.

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. For an instant I thought she was dead.

"Alice. Alice. Is something wrong?"

She half-turned to look 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 just 
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 as long as I 
could. Just as I began to fall asleep, she jerked. It was 
like an explosion.

"Alice?"

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

"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 won't bother me and it'll help you. You have to trust 
me." 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 my body all the way up against 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.

