"I don't know..."
"You're my slave, aren't you? I'm giving you an order. I want it rough and I want you inside me and I want you to come. I need to be punished like a disobedient slave girl. Good-bye." I hung up before he could protest further.
My belly was tight with excitement as I drove. It wasn't easy to go slow, though some parts of the highway were sheer ice. When I turned onto I-55, the sand trucks had already been through, and the heavy Saturday night traffic sped up to fifty or even fifty-five.
I thought about the paradox of my situation. To expiate my sin against Craig, I'd have to be rougher on him. He'd asked me once to whip him with his belt, but I'd refused. I could do that for him now, but it would only be out of guilt. Instead, like the selfish mistress he wanted, I'd look after myself instead, and do my penance by forcing him to rape me. And I'd never have to hurt him by telling him about Mike and the trailer.
I found myself looking forward to getting back to our apartment. I imagined him grabbing me and holding me down, ripping my clothes off, perhaps slapping me to stop my struggling. Then he would force my legs apart and spend himself into my body.
* * *
By the time I walked into the lobby of the apartment building, I was a nervous wreck. The car had skidded dangerously a few times, and I'd nearly collided with another driver who'd spun his car in a complete circle. Even when I arrived at the apartment, Craig's parking space was drifted with snow. Instead of getting the shovel from the trunk and clearing it, I just rammed the nose of the car into the drift until it was clear of other parking lot traffic. That was good enough for now.
I grew nervous as the elevator clunked and bonged its way up. The dangerous drive from Morris had taken a lot of energy, and I found myself nearly devoid of both aggression and regret. I had no idea what to expect when I got to the apartment. There was about an even chance that I'd find him naked and on his knees, holding a glass of wine, as he usually greeted me. Or he might be sitting imperiously in his recliner, cock at full attention, demanding the same service as I'd given Mike.
I unlocked the door and stepped in. The dead silence made me nervous. I expected Craig to jump out from somewhere naked and scare the crap out of me. But was he even there? I kicked off my boots and hung my coat in the closet. His coat was there and it was dry. But before I could turn around, hands reached around my waist from behind, grabbed my breasts, and squeezed.
"Hey! That hurts!"
"Bitch! I took you long enough to get home! What were you doing that took so long, slut?" he growled against my back.
Christ! Does he know about Mike already!
I wondered if Mike had called, crowing over his triumph and reclaiming me for his own.
I twisted from side to side, trying to break free. It occurred to me for an instant how ridiculous this must look, a five-foot-eight man grappling with a strong, six-foot-two woman from behind. But as I'd discovered before, Craig was stronger than he looked. He reached his fingers inside the buttons of my blouse and pulled, ripping the fabric and popping buttons onto the floor.
"You wrecked my shirt!" It was my good one, too, and cost ten dollars new.
"Too bad," he said. He pushed the straps from my shoulders and yanked the bra down to my waist. He reached for my breasts again, pinching the nipples and pulling me away from the closet. He grabbed the waist of my skirt at the back and, keeping one breast in his grip, frog-marched me into the bedroom. He tossed me face down onto the bed, unzipped my skirt, and pulled skirt, slip and panties off in one motion. All that remained of my clothing were my nylons, garter belt, and the bra tangled around my waist.
"Up on your knees!" he commanded, but before I could move, he gripped my hips and lifted me. I tried to turn and look at him, but he smacked me hard on the ass. "Straight ahead, bitch."
Something hot and silken touched the lips of my pussy, and I grunted, unable to keep from bucking back at him. In a couple of strokes, his cock had slipped into me. This wasn't quite what I'd asked for, but it felt good. As he thrust, more and more of his cock entered me, and I matched his movements with my own. I'd rehearsed things I was going to say, to taunt him or anger him, but I forgot all those as his lovely cock filled me and began to move. I bucked my hips toward him and cried out in pleasure.
He had never gone deeper into me than this. Goose bumps rose on my arms and all over my body, and I already raced to climax. But as good as it felt, I couldn't quite get over the edge. He pumped harder and cried out, his hips smacking hard against my ass. Warmth spread through my pelvis, bringing me very close to the edge, but my body still refused. I wished he'd reach around and just once touch my clitoris. But I was getting what I'd demanded and I had to accept it.
