The Last Night

Part 2

Another familiar face introduces itself. Nancy is her name. I see that her hair is damp as she thrusts out a hand to shake mine.

“How are you? Is Stephaney here with you or couldn’t she make it?” she asks me, smiling. “Sorry for the damp hands. It’s started coming down out there and I just got in.”

Rain. I can hear it above the dull roar of the room, beating down just beyond the open doors of the auditorium. I think of the first time I saw you. But I always think of the first time I saw you when it rains.

We were in high school. It was our lunch period and you were standing with a couple of your friends, just under the shelter of the cafeteria. Your hair, long and dark, clung to you as you spoke to your comrades. I was captured, instantly, and I found that I could not take my eyes off of you.

As luck would have it, you noticed my steady gaze. I was embarrassed at having been caught staring and I knew that I should have ruined my chances at ever speaking with you. Still, I never wavered in my gaze.

Amusedly, you walked over and introduced yourself, flashing a smile. The voice that issued forth was as music to my ears, lilting and beautiful. For me, it was love at first sight and I could only pray that I would not say something stupid. I didn’t and you agreed to let me walk you home after school.

That day, standing out in the rain in front of your parent’s house, I leaned in under the damp cave of your hair and kissed you. I was afraid, never having kissed a girl before…not in that way. But, as I leaned in to kiss you, I saw your beautiful lips part, slightly. And then, as our lips met, we embraced, holding each other’s sopping bodies.

We were rarely apart afterwards, finding or making time to be together whenever possible. Even our yearbook, for the next three years, noted us as “the couple most in love”. A statement more true than any could have imagined.

Another voice shakes me from my memories. “Did you and Stephaney ever tie the knot?” asks a new face. The question makes me chuckle.

“Yes, we tied the knot” I tell the woman as I wander past her towards the open doors.

It was damp and cold the first time we “tied the knot”. Clouds filled the sky with darkness. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled through the dark night. I remember how the wildness of the night excited you.

You came to me, eyes wide and excited, hands filled with silken scarves. "Tie me to the bed and have your way with me, lover!" you exclaimed.

We practically raced into the bedroom, tearing off each other’s clothes. Stopping just as we entered the room, we kissed in a passionate embrace before I flung you to the bed.

In an instant, I was upon you like a rabid beast, pinning you on the bed.

To my surprise you put up a struggle, fighting my attempts to bind your wrists to the bedpost. Excited at your struggle I fought against you, finally securing your arms to the bedposts. I grinned from over you, ready to bind your legs similarly.

As I made my first attempt to grab your ankle, you lashed out, nearly kicking me. In retaliation I spun around and slapped you, reddening your cheek. Still, you fought, prompting another slap. Suddenly, rapt with power, I flung myself over your legs and wrapped my arms around your calves. I struggled to still your powerful and well-formed legs.

As our battle raged I became more determined, filled with power and lust. Finally, as I feared I might never achieve my goal, I had you bound to the bed, your ankles pulled wide to their respective bedposts.

I stepped from the bed to admire my prize: A beauty in bondage, helpless and ready for the taking, still struggling against the knotted scarves that held you in captivity.

Sliding on to the bed, I promised that you would pay for your struggles. I would take you now, as I wanted, and rape the resistance from your heart. For this you swore at me, promising me punishments and reprisals for my actions.

Aching to take you, I crawled on top of you, straddling your chest and commanding you ready yourself to suck my cock. You swore at me, eyes wild, promising that I would suffer if my cock came near your mouth. You did not lie. For, as my cock came to your lips you jerked forward, baring your teeth and snapping. I pulled back, surprised at your actions, falling between your legs and nearly toppling from the bed.

When I righted myself I promised suffering to be your reward. You screamed at me, promising to make me suffer for abusing you so. My demands at silence were met with more screams and more promises.

I bolted from the bed to retrieve your panties, promising that you would be silent. Then came the ensuing battle to pry your mouth open and fill it with your panties. It was a long and arduous battle but, when it was over, you were no longer able to speak. Still, you growled through your panties, fighting to spit them from your mouth despite the scarf, which held them securely in place.

Standing back, once again, I pulled the belt from my discarded pants and began to beat you with it. You screamed into your gag as I smote your inner thighs, reddening the soft flesh between your legs. Then your eyes grew wide as I took aim further up. And though a part of me feared to do so, I struck the tender flesh of your sex. You howled and arched you back as the pain filled you. And then, unable to wait any longer, I pounced on you, ramming my cock into your pain filled sex.

I stared down at you as I began thrusting. You eyes were clenched tightly: Evidence of your pain. Still, I thrust, beating into your body, an animal enraged with lust. I was in ecstasy, enjoying your agonized struggles. And when your pain subsided and you began to return my thrusts, I withdrew my cock from your sex to thrust into your ass.

Again you howled into your gag, unprepared for the sudden invasion. But I did not stop, nor could I. Instead, I pumped into you, stroke after painful stroke. Suddenly, I could take no more. My own eyes clenched and I thrust one final time, moaning as I came.

Later that night, I held you to me. You cried and shook, unable to utter more than a few coherent words. I was frightened at your state of being, horrified that my brutality had might have injured you. But you assured me, as best you could, that you were fine. And, when, finally, you were able to speak in coherent terms, you revealed your secret longing for such rough brutality and made me promise it would be so again. Of course, I promised. How could I not?

Staring out at the rain, I wonder that it should be so tonight as it was on the day of our first meeting. But then, I suppose, I should not be surprised at this. Most important days of our lives were graced with rain.

I turn back to see a man standing just the other side of the door. He is smiling, speaking to me, reminding me of the day when you caught your skirt on the fence as you climbed over it. No one would have described you as a tomboy but they never would have described you as a girlish, either. You were always so adventurous and never afraid to get dirty.

“She was so humiliated, that day,” he says to me. “She got hung up on that fence, her skirt pulling up to her armpits and trapping her against the fence. No one laughed at her, though. At least, not until she laughed at it later.”

I smile back at him, remembering the day. “Everyone loved her, didn’t they?” I ask.

“You two were both loved, really. Why do you think no one ever messed with you two? You guys were strictly off limits,” he says. “But boy, that was probably the most humiliating day of her life.”

I grin and nod my head as he walks off. As he does so I am reminded of so many nights when I humiliated you. Some nights I made you beg to be taken. Other nights I made you beg for pain or to eat cum. You loved those games.

Especially, you enjoyed when I treated you like an animal. The “puppy game” we called it. I made you wear a dog collar and bark to communicate with me. I taught you hand commands that would make you sit, lie down and roll over. And, though you always enjoyed it, I don’t think that any night compared to the first night I treated you so. I can never forget that night, though I do wonder how the notion came to me.

You had been waiting for me to come home. I had phoned you, telling you to be naked and to have your bottom lubricated. I’m sure you thought I intended to take you roughly when I got home. We had, after all, made rough sex a regular part of our marital activities. But I had a surprise for you instead.

You greeted my with a huge smile. You were excited and expecting. When we entered the living room I bent you over the couch. You moaned, expecting my entry. Instead, I pushed a plug into your waiting ass and told you not to move. Then I pulled the collar from my coat pocket and fastened it around your neck.

“Get down on all fours and show me how a dog behaves”, I commanded.

It was as you got to the floor that you realized that your plug was graced with a springy tail. You looked back and wagged your ass, watching as the tail wagged behind it. When you looked back to me, I had a rolled up newspaper in my hand. Then you noticed the bag you had failed to notice before.

“I don’t want to eat those”, you told me.

A quick smack with the newspaper silenced your protests, your face turning red. A moment of resistance rose and was quickly suppressed by another smack with the newspaper. Then I explained how the night, and the ensuing weekend, would unfold.

You were a bit difficult, at first. My commands were met with angry glances and you broke character several times. Finally, after grabbing you by the hair and pushing you into your dog dish, you gave in to the inevitable. Truthfully, I was quite unsure of my actions until I reached back to find your sex wet and warm.

For the rest of the weekend you begged at the table, being fed an occasional scrap. And, though there was no enthusiasm to do so, you ate the dog food and dog biscuits you were rewarded with.

As the weekend ensued you learned what I expected, becoming an expert at licking my cock, balls and ass with long strokes of your tongue. And, though it embarrassed you beyond any you embarrassment you had experienced before, you became accustomed to using the back yard for your bathroom.

You were a “good bitch”, I always told you so. Of course, despite the reddening this brought to your cheeks, you were prideful of being a “good bitch”.

A woman thrusts her face into my view. I recognize her but I can’t match it to a name. She hugs me, squealing kind words and, of course, asking about you.

“She was so nice to me,” says the voice issuing from the familiar face.  “ I don’t know if you know this but my parents were not very well off. Stephaney…well, she was so kind. Sometimes, my parents couldn’t send any lunch with me. We were not well off. Stephaney would share her lunch with me if I didn’t have lunch or the money to buy lunch.”

“Yes, I know.” I tell her. “Debby, right?”

“Oh, you do remember me!” She squeals. “You know, she never made me feel bad and she always…what was it she said? Well, I don’t remember it exactly but it was something along the lines of giving to others is nothing to be proud of if you have enough for yourself.”

I smile at her, remembering you always speaking of being well off as a privilege and responsibility. “Yes, she has always been that way.” I tell her.

“Well, when you see her, tell her that Debby is alive and well and that I run a non-profit organization to feed the hungry.” She says. “I call it “Stephaney’s House”…after her.”

Again I smile at her, nodding my head and telling her how happy that would make you. She begins rambling on as I make an excuse to extricate myself from her high-pitched company.

Stepping outside, I remember back to so many times when your generosity turned out so well. I remember how a poor family was allowed the dignity of an honest days pay working as our gardeners. We didn’t need a gardener. But you insisted on having them work for us. Two years later they started their own lawn care company. And, of course, as was always the case, your generosity was returned when they refused to take pay for taking care of our own small yard.

There were so many generous things you did. All of them, it seems were returned ten-fold. And anyone who worked with or for us fell in love with us…with you. Wasn’t it always the way?