Chapter 7

It was evening by the time I woke up. Bear was still looking at the door. "Bear, off," I said, and he came up to me wagging his tail. We walked out and down the hall. When I came into the living room there was a near naked Cynthia on her knees there. She was wearing a very sexy set of bra / panties / garter belt and stockings, all in the palest of greens.

I went over to the window and looked out. The Ford was gone.

"Is this something you bought for him?" I asked, with an edge to my voice.

"No, sir." SIR? "I bought this yesterday in Dallas, once I knew that you were coming home soon. I hoped to wear it for you."

"Let me see the fuckin' receipts." She wasn't going to be allowed to have anything she said go unchallenged.

She rose and walked down the hallway to the guest bedroom, her hips swinging. How do women do that? I looked after her, and all I could see was the rise and fall of her buttocks, encased in a pale green lacy pair of boy shorts. No boy ever looked that good. She came back in a moment with a register receipt from 'Shoppe for Him – a specialty clothing store for His pleasure.'

"It says here that you bought two complete sets of 'In the mood' garments," I said. "For $523.50."

"Yes sir." Again with the 'sir.' "The other one is in blue. I can get it if you want. I thought the expense was warranted, sir, if I hoped to save my marriage."

"What's with the 'sir?'"

"I've given this a lot of thought. You deserve to punish me. You need to punish me. And I need to be punished, whether I stay or go. Since I intend to do anything you tell me to do, it's like I'm a slave. So, until you say otherwise, I'll call you 'sir.' ... or anything else you want.

"Before we get into this further, I've made some food for you. I know I don't cook very well, and I will improve on that. So, there are tacos ready for you to eat. If you're hungry, now." She paused for effect, then: "sir."

I pondered this for a moment. It was a start. "Okay. Let's eat." I walked into the kitchen, and looked around. Everything was set for one person to have a nice taco dinner.

"No, sir. This is for you. I'll eat later, when you don't need me anymore, tonight."

Still okay, I guess. "Very well. Stand by me as I eat then. Pah-RAID ... REST ... No stand so I can see the front of you. It's better scenery. The boy-pants she wore had a deep V in the lacy front. I could see the top of the landing strip she maintained over her cunt.

I made tacos while she stood, with rigidly upright torso, her hands clasped behind her waist, and legs apart. It was a sight to raise the cock of any red blooded male.

I addressed her around bites of the taco: "What have you decided about Sr. AssHole and Carbunkle?"

"Carbunkle is history. I'll send a resignation letter tonight, unless you direct otherwise. Sir."

"And what if it's really the CIA?"

"They can go fuck themselves, too. Sir. I want to prove myself to you, if possible. I can't do that if I'm off in Dallas or anyplace for twelve hours or more every day. I can help you keep the books in your business. I want you to chain me to the desk, or put me on a leash and take me around to every place you go. I'll be like Bear, only more loyal."

"What of him?" I asked somewhat quieter.

"He can rot in hell for all I care. He just wanted me as a plaything. Not like you. You..." I could hear her voice break as she sobbed. "you showed me love. I want to be yours, again."

I pulled down her panties, and they stretched around her spread thighs. I put my hand on her pussy. There was a sharp intake of breath, but she maintained her position.

"You're dry," I said. "I'd like some pussy juice on my taco."

"I can't lubricate on command," she apologized.

I slapped her cunt lips twice, moderately hard. She gasped and I began to feel some moisture. Then I slithered up to her clit. It was still hiding.

"You will learn to do everything on command," I said. Then I gave that little bundle of hiding nerves a hard, twisting pinch. She groaned and doubled over, collapsing around my fist. "Understand?"

She grabbed my arm with both hands, as the pinch continued for long seconds.

"Yessss. Ssssssssssir," she moaned in a whisper. "I th ... think I'm wet for you now. Ssssir."

I released the clit pinch slowly and she regained her Parade Rest stance, also slowly. My upturned hand found her labia, gathered the wetness there and slapped it on the taco I was making. I looked at her clit and the poor thing was red and throbbing. But I could see the head peeking out. It wanted more attention.

"I'm not going to show you love for a long time, slut. That's what I'm calling you, until we meet with Sr. AssHole." I watched as her eyes widened in surprise at that. "Yes, we will meet him ... Now, tell me what you feel is appropriate punishment."

"I don't know. Sir," she looked at me, and there was some steel in her backbone. "I know that I will allow you to do anything you want. It should be something that you'll... 'like' is not the right word ... maybe, 'be satisfied with.' It would be better if you like it as well. It should be something I'll hate. I mean ... I don't think you'd cut off anything – well except my hair. But if you want me to get a tattoo, or carve your name in my ass, or brand me. That would ... would ... be okay. If you want that."

"Hmmm. I'll give that some thought. Perhaps I'll use a soldering iron across your belly; I'll leave my mark: 'James' Pussy.' Or something. And then kick you to the curb. That okay with you?"

"If that's what would please you, I'll endure it. You are the man for me, sir. I mean it when I say I'll do almost anything ... Sir? May I say something?"

"Always, slut. I'm listening."

"It's about ... well what I did with him," she said warily. She had my full attention, now. I listened with bated breath. "I want you to know that I never did anything with him that I hadn't done with you. Vaginal, oral and we didn't do anal..." here she mumbled a comment.

"Speak up, slut. I won't have you lying again." The damn bitch was getting to me. I took a quick look at my life starting tomorrow. Without her, I'd be alone, and I knew it would be a long time before I recovered. I needed her in my life. With her I'd be living with someone I couldn't trust. It would take a long time to trust her again. Maybe it would take forever.

She spoke louder, but wouldn't meet my eyes. "We didn't do anal until you took my ass-cherry and had used me there for nearly a month ... And I never let him give me the pleasure of pain, like only you've done." Her eyes met mine now. "And continue to do. Sir. Thank you for that at dinner time."

So, she'd 'given' me free access to her ass for nearly a whole month. Whoopdy-do. It was good to know that she'd 'given' me her ass. It was bad to know that she also gave it to Sr. AssHole so soon after. Ten years later would have been too soon. I was angry again. "Understand this, slut. Until we're done with this, if I detect that you're enjoying something, I will stop. I used your cunt for a taco sauce device, tonight. Nothing more."

There were tears in her eyes, because she found no compassion in mine. "Yes. Sir. I'm glad to see you use me as you wish. Because I know that's the only way I have to save my relationship with you. I really do want to be with you. I was stupid. That doesn't excuse what I did. Somehow my mine was clouded. I felt that if I did it for a good reason..."

Enough of that bullshit. "It doesn't matter what your reason was. You didn't have to marry me."

"Yes I did, sir. I wanted ... I want to live with you and be yours."

"Now go take off your panties. I'm going to want to use your mouth, your cunt, and your ass tonight."

"Yes, Sir!" She tried to control her happiness. We'll see how happy she was when we went to bed.

"Wait for me by the bed," I said, on my way to the office. I had a little to do, but it was mostly for show. I wanted her to anticipate having a good time. Then the reality of it would be more punishing.

The 'ooh baby' recording was still playing for the benefit of Carbunkle's audio pick ups. I took the listening devices back to the kitchen and picked up my ball peen hammer. "STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE," I shouted at them. I assumed Superman and Batman were somewhere within range. Then I turned them into rubble, with a couple of hits of the hammer. The lipstick bug made a real mess, on the counter and the hammer turned a shade of bright pink. I left it for the slut to clean up later.

I checked the lock on the front door and set the house alarm to 'instant, ' meaning that if any window or door were opened, it'd start blaring.

When I entered the bedroom, she was kneeling again, on my side of the bed. I pulled off my polo shirt and then my slacks. I went over and sat on the bed and shuffled over to be right in front of her. The prosthetic legs were almost touching her bra-encased breasts.

"Take them off for me." In all the time we'd been together, she'd never done this. I'd always taken care of that before coming to bed.

She reached up and began to look at the straps and buckles that held them in place.
"I don't want to hurt you," she said, her fingers touching her and there, looking for a starting place.

"You already have hurt me. Taking off my legs won't hurt," I said, coldly.

She began by unbuckling everything she could find. Then with a little popping noise, my left leg came off. She held it in her hand like it was a strange animal. Then she took the stocking off my stump. She'd never really looked at it before. Slut-Cynthia ran her fingers over the stump, touching the scar gently. A butterfly's touch.

Then she moved over and repeated the maneuver on my right leg. This one was below the knee, so it was different. She did the same thing, fondling the stump of my leg.

"I never really understood what happened to you before," she said softly.

It took a lot of will power to get the harshness back into my voice. "Now you do." I wrapped my hand in her hair, and pulled her face to my semi-hard cock. "Suck it slut. Like you did for him."

"No, sir. Not like that. I'll give you my best." And her mouth descended on me and she took me into that warm liquid place where her tongue gave pleasure.

I reached over to the clock/radio and plugged the thumb drive into the USB port. It soon began playing.

'Yes, baby. Suck it. Take all of it.' The rich, baritone of Sr. AssHole came from the speaker. 'You know you want it. Can't you take it in your throat?' There were gagging sounds. 'Yes ... like that... ' and so on. We both knew that there were hours and hours of that recording.

She stiffened at the first words, halting all motion with her mouth. I pulled up on her hair, moving her face part way up the shaft, and then pushed back on her head. She opened her eyes and looked up at me, with tears in her eyes. At least the slut kept sucking in time to the sounds on the recording. Up and down, her tongue swirling. Sometimes entering her throat, only to return to the softness of her lips. Over and over. It was exquisite.

I erupted into her mouth before Sr. AssHole did on the recording. Maybe he wasn't as excited as I was. It was a release, so it was enjoyable. But it wasn't good. There were tears in my eyes too.

"You got me soft, slut. Now get me hard again," I barked at her.

I could feel her tears on my thighs, but she complied. Out of the speaker, I heard the sounds of their fucking. If I thought they were making love, I'd throw the bitch out the door and drive a stake through her heart. Like she'd done to me ... So fucking it was.

When I was hard again, I pulled her off me. Now the speaker was putting out her voice. 'Yes. Just like that. You are so deep ... More more ... I want it... ' and he was grunting in time with what was obviously a fast pace.

"What are you doing with him now?" I said. My voice was quiet, menacing.

"He ... he liked it ... doggy," she said.

"Was he bigger than me? Was it better for you?" I didn't want to know. I had to know.

"N ... not really. Maybe a fraction of an inch longer. He ... he was not as big as you. He..." her voice cracked. "He didn't fill me as much ... Why are you doing this?" she sobbed at hearing her own voice.

I grabbed her by the hair and almost threw her to the bed, in the doggy position. "Because my slut gave her body to some one else. Because you deserve to hear what I had to hear. It goes on for hours, you know. Hours and hours." I got behind her and stuffed my hard cock into her cunt. She was crying loudly, face down on the pillow. "I don't think [I stroked in, hard] I could punish you enough [Another stroke] for each fuck. [Another. I hit bottom, pounding into her cervix.] You were with him hundreds of times [Another]. Days and days and weeks and weeks. [Another and another. My cock head almost getting bruised from the pounding on her cervix.]

"You fucking lied to me. [Another] 'I take you for my husband.' [Another stroke.] 'Forsaking all others.' [Another faster stroke] You lied. [Almost all the way out, then quickly in.] You fucked him. Listen to yourself. [I grabbed her hair and jerked her head back, so she had to arch her back.]"

The recording droned on and on. 'Yes. Just like that ... I want it. I want you. Cum in me ... Yes, baby. Cum ... Oh fuck me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck... ' and him just grunting like a pig.

I came in her cunt. But I didn't soften. So I kept pounding. Now I was a jackhammer. My belly slapping at her upraised ass.

Her hands reached back and spread her cheeks, giving me room to go deeper.

"Yes, James. Do it. Do it. It's yours. I'm yours. Oh god," she was listening to herself on the recording. "I was a stupid slut. Do it ... Take me. Rape me." She was babbling. Half sobbing. I let go of her hair and she fell face first into the pillow. The tears only made me fuck her harder.

Finally, I came again. I pulled out abruptly, rolled over and manhandled her out of the bed. "Get out, slut. Sleep somewhere else. I don't want you any more tonight."

The sounds of her fucking him were still coming from the speaker. I pulled the sheet over myself and curled into a fetal position, listening to the pornographic fuck sounds. I snapped off the light and listened 'til I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up to the sounds of soft snoring coming from the floor. The thumb drive containing the 'ooh baby' recording of the fuck session was sitting on the end table, next to the clock radio. I looked at the floor to find the slut, sleeping under a blanket. I looked around and couldn't find my prosthetics.

I reached over and shook her shoulder. She woke with a long stretch and shoved off her blanket. I saw that she was curled around the prosthetic legs.

"Morning, Ja ... uh. Sir."

"Good morning, slut. What are you doing on the floor with my legs?"

"I couldn't go to the guest room; I wanted to be a close to you as I could be. So I slept here. And I didn't want you leaving without me, so I stole your legs," she said in a bright, chipper voice. "Will you show me how to put them on you? I can do that from now on, if you want."

This certainly didn't seem like the 'Gotta go to the office. See ya. Love ya.' woman who'd been so brusque in the mornings.

I had to remember, she was a very good actress. Last night didn't seem like she was acting. But then, so did the time she'd come back, freshly fucked, with his sperm leaking out of her, and proceeded to fuck me.

I showed her the procedure I had to go through to put on my legs each day. I had it down to a science ... buckle here, Velcro there, push it on, tighten it up so it wouldn't chafe. I slowed it down so she could learn. If she really wanted to. She said she did.

I wanted to believe, to trust her. I couldn't do it.

Once upon a time, I'd trusted guys I didn't hardly know. But they had the same shoulder patch I wore. They were in The Unit. They had gone through all the same shit I'd gone through. They placed their lives in my hands, and I placed my life in theirs. I trusted them. I didn't even think about it.

She'd lied to me for months and months. I'd had one day and one night with her, with her telling me she was trustworthy. She hadn't shown me shit yet.

I pulled up my tighty-whities, my pants – same ones as yesterday – and a new polo shirt. She sat on the bed watching me. She wore the same bra, garter belt and stocking as last night. Her panties were on the side table. She just looked at me, as if waiting for instructions.

I looked back at her.

"You said you wanted to use my ass last night, sir. So I thought..."

"That was last night. I'm not in the mood for hearing any more of that tape right now." She nodded her acceptance. "Go and change to the blue outfit. Get your raincoat. We're going out."