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“Tell me again what happened the day that Jarrett Cain came to the house.”
She hesitated a few seconds, a little scared, then finally turned around. “He wanted me and Jolie, to make be the instruments of payment for Beau’s debt. It was obvious he intended to rape us. We resisted, and were both strapped, then he and the two boys with him used me… in the ass,” she ended quietly. It was still a shock to put into words that terrible scene.
Daniel nodded, sure now what he would do. “Bend over, Hannah and raise your skirt. I want you to relive that day with me.”
“Sir?”
“You heard me, bend over.”
Her body trembled, not knowing whether to vent relief or rage, but then, there was little time to check her confused emotions or act on them. She bent over the kitchen table and hung on as she had that other time, while Daniel raised her skirt with hands so dear to her that she could feel the love and longing pouring from them. He then stepped back and removed the belt from round his waist. Doubling the lengthy leather, he strapped her bottom hard. The sting of the belt was as vicious as any she’d endured in the past, but she sensed that her husband was more concerned with what would follow. Her heart leapt on that thought with hope.
Once her ass was smarting meanly, Daniel dropped the belt and moved into her roughed-up behind, with his hands prying apart her rosy bottom. He toyed with the opening he unveiled and she reacted with a shuddering tremor that aroused the erotic feelings she’d being trying so to squelch. “Oh, dear God,” she quietly vented.
“So they shoved their erections in dry?” he asked.
Her entire body trembled as he continued to gently work the place. “N-No, sir. They used lard to grease the path.”
“What? From the can on the stove?”
“Yes, sir.” She closed her eyes and let that dark eroticism wash over her once again.
Daniel moved to the stove and grabbed the can and scooped out a wad of the slick, white substance, which he smeared between her pink, plump cheeks. This was the first his hands had touched her body in a sexual manner since he’d brought her home. The simmering fire exploded inside her, and she wriggled quite lewdly but caught herself.
“Be honest, Hannah. Did you like the way it felt?”
His hips moved against her bottom with his throbbing member pressing at that taut gateway. Backing off, he aimed for the center, then shoved his erection into the receptive portal.
“Ah, ah,” she gasped as his hard erection massaged her deep.
“Did you like the way it felt?” he asked again.
“Ah! No sir, not at first. It hurt.”
“Does it hurt now?”
“No, sir.”
“And later?”
“It stopped hurting.” Her voice became more ragged as he began to move in her.
“And you liked it then?”
“No, no,” she shook her head, overwhelmed, confused, loving the feel of her husband so deeply united with her, but at the same time, despising the memories it brought to mind. “No. No!” she shook her head, “I didn’t like it at all. They were cruel and disgusting…” her voice trailed off.
“But did your body really think that?” He could feel her inner temperature starting to rise and the involuntary movement of her body, the squeezing, the milking action of her cunt and the dark pulsing channel he’d just claimed as his. He began to move in her more rapidly.
“Oh, how my body betrayed me!” she exclaimed.
“The way it’s betraying you now,” his voice dropped low.
“No, I mean yes,” she spit out, being too confused to know what she meant.
Seizing her two plump rounds in his fists, he thrust briskly now, finding her welcoming the touch. He’d been denied and this was like heaven to him now.
“You like getting taken this way?” His voice was dark, sounding coarse like those other men’s.
“Oh, my yes, sir,” she wriggled like a savage tart, like the saucy bride who could stay up all night making love like a common whore.
