Wife in a slave house

CHAPTER ONE

She never liked Sunday mornings. On Sunday morning her husband was usually interested in sex.

Angela Prentice lay in bed with her back to Ken. She wasn't certain he was awake yet. She hoped this was one of the days he would sleep until nearly noon. But then she felt him move. He was awake, all right. It was nine o'clock in Sunday morning and she suspected that in a few moments he would start something.

She was right, of course. Ken pressed against her. She could feel his cock pressing against her ass. His arm came over her, his hand moving up to cover one of her tits. He pushed his cock more firmly against her ass. He wanted to fuck.

"Awake, honey? Let's have a little you-know-what."

She could feel the heat of his cock pushing against her ass crack. She hated it. She'd always hated it. It just wasn't her thing. Maybe some women liked, but she didn't.

Now she pretended she was still asleep. Ken kept pressing against her. He whispered at her, his voice still groggy with sleep.

"Come on, baby, wake up and let's fuck," Angela groaned, pretended Ken had awakened her. "What?"

"I said let's fuck."

"Oh Ken."

"Come on, it's Sunday morning."

"I know what day it is."

"Don't you want to?"

"Ken, it's too early."

Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. She had to give it a try. She hoped maybe today it would work and he'd leave her alone.

But Ken persisted. "It's nice in the morning, Angie."

"You know I don't like to do it in the morning."

"You never give it a chance."

"Please, Ken."

"Come on, baby, let me put it in."

He kept insisting. She could hear the mounting irritation in his voice. If she didn't let him fuck her now, he'd be irritable all day long. She hated the feel of his cock pushing at her as. How awful it was that he was so eager to fuck her and she had no interest in it.

Finally she yielded. She knew she had to. She allowed herself to relax and Ken felt it. He played with her cunt from behind. She felt his fingers tickling her cunt lips, pushing between them, probing at her cunt hole. She was dry. She was always dry when he wanted to fuck her. He finally reached for the bottle of lotion on the night-table. She hears him mutter something about the dryness of her cunt. Then she felt his fingers again.

She felt him rubbing the lotion between her cunt lips and inside her cunt hole. As always, she found it repulsive. She hated it. But she said nothing. She lay there waiting for him. Finally he finished greasing her cunt hole and she felt the knob of his cock pushing at her pussy. He groaned as his prick slid inside. He pushed all the way in until his belly was against her ass. "Oh, yeah, that's good. That's a hot pussy, honey. My honey has a hot pussy." He giggled at his language. He started fucking her, the two of them on their sides, her back to Ken, his cock sliding in and out of her cunt from behind.

God, how she hated it. After two years of marriage she still found it awful. She hated the intimacy of it. She hated the feel of his cock in there, the feel of his prick ravishing her body. When they weren't fucking, she was happy with him. She told herself she loved him, but now she felt only hated as his hand squeezed her ass. He was like an animal behind her, grunting and sweating as he fucked her. She was always amazed at how he turned into an animal when he did it. Sex was so messy. Her attitudes towards sex had always been negative. She had no experience with it as a girl. In high school she wouldn't let anyone touch her.

She'd been a virgin when she married Ken. He'd seemed so delighted to pop her cherry. She remembered the bleeding. She remembered how miserable she'd been during their honeymoon. She'd made a show of it, though. For Ken's sake. For the sake of the marriage. A man had to make a show, of it.

Now he was into the fucking. His cock felt like a had pipe in her cunt-channel. He pumped away, his hand gripping her hip, his belly slapping against her asscheeks. He squeezed her ass, then he moved his hand to squeeze tits. She felt degraded by the fucking. All he was doing was using her body. Be fore long he would come and use her cunt like a toilet. It was awful. The bed creaked as he fucked her and she hated that, too. Why couldn't he be decent to her? She hated him when he was like this.

Then finally he was at the finish. As usual, he made noises when he came. He pumped away in her pussy as he emptied his balls. She felt the wetness, the sticky feel of his jism as he pulled his cock out and rolled away.

In a few moments he was sleeping again. He was finished with her. She waited until she was certain he was asleep, and then she slipped off the bed and went to the bathroom.

She closed and locked the bathroom door and then she sat down on the toilet. Ken's jism started leaking out of her pussy. She hated having his slime in her. She let it all leak out and then she mopped her pussy with toilet paper. She felt so used. She told herself she was nothing but a convenient hole for him.

She lingered in the bathroom, but then finally she went back to the bedroom. Now Ken was out of bed and seated near a window. He had his shorts on. He started picking on her immediately.

"You're an iceberg, Angie."

"Ken, we don't need another fight about that."

"You're a fucking iceberg."

"Please don't talk like that."

"But you are."

"And you're like an animal sometimes. Do you think I enjoy that?"

"A cold fish. I never thought you'd be such a cold fish."

It went on and on. He continued berating her. He said that after two years of marriage he expected more from her. Finally he left the bedroom. She heard him put his running suit on. Then he was out of the house to do his jogging. Angela was relieved. She was happy to be alone again.

She went down to the kitchen to have her coffee. She sat there awhile watching a stupid program on TV, then finally she went upstairs to the bathroom. She slipped her robe off, climbed into the shower and turned the water on.

It wasn't long before she responded to the feel other own hands on her body. She always did.

She could feel her pussy twitch as she lathered her tits. Well, go on, she thought. She hated sex with Ken, but not with herself. She wasn't such a cold fish, like he thought. She quivered as she ran the bar of soap between her cunt lips. She was a woman, after all. She had a pussy and it gave her pleasure. Secret pleasure. She put the soap away and she used her hand instead. She started masturbating.

She always liked it when she did it herself. Maybe afterwards she'd feel guilty, but now as she did it she loved it. She knew how to give herself pleasure. She rubbed the shaft of her clit. She liked to drag it out, does it slowly until she was in a frenzy of need. She pushed two fingers inside her cunt hole. Her pussy-lips felt so swollen now.

She amused herself by tickling her asshole, pushing the tip of her finger inside and turning it around. Then back to her cunt. Three fingers now. Stretch the old hole. Well, not really old, she was only twenty-eight. She gave her clit a quick rub, hard rubbing on the tip, and in a moment she groaned as her cunt spasmed.

Just a brief moment of pleasure. She thought of doing it again but she changed her mind. She was already feeling guilty. She always felt ashamed of herself when she used her fingers to get off.

When Ken returned, he apologized for what he'd said. "You're not an iceberg. You're my wife and I love you."

He was affectionate. He took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. She could smell the sweat on him. She felt that now she had the upper hand. She accepted his apology.

But soon his hands were moving over her body, squeezing her ass through her robe when they were in the kitchen. He wanted to fuck again. He kissed her mouth. He made her slip the robe off. He fondled her tits and ass. He wanted to fuck her right there. He wanted to fuck her in the kitchen.

Angela was desperate. She resisted. She made excuses. She said the kitchen was an awful place. She talked about the neighbors looking through the windows.

But Ken wouldn't be put, off. He continued to press her until finally she had to yield. She went limp. She let him do what he wanted with her body. He took her in his arms and kissed her neck. Then he bent his head to kiss her tits. He still had his running suit on. She looked down at him as he sucked her nipples. In a moment he was down in a crouch with his face pressed against her cunt bush. She let him sniff at her a moment and then she pushed him away. "Ken, please…" She told him if he wanted to fuck her they'd have to go to the bedroom. She told him she wouldn't do it anywhere else. "I just won't and that's all."

He went along with her. They climbed the stairs together. She felt awkward because she was naked and he still had his running suit on. But inside the bedroom he quickly stripped. He had a huge hard-on. He was obviously very excited. And sweaty. She could see the sweat glistening on his chest and belly. She found it repulsive. She was sorry now that she'd agreed to let him fuck her. She ought to have told him to shower first. But of course it was too late. He'd be furious if she put him off again. Now she had to let him fuck her while the sweat dripped off his body.

In a moment they were on the bed for the second time that morning. He was all over her. He kept her pinned down as he kissed her. Then he climbed over her. He pulled her legs up and apart and pushed his cock inside her cunt. He groaned as he went in. Then he settled down to fuck her. He had her legs hanging over his arms as he pounded her pussy. She kept her eyes closed. The only thing she could do now was wait for him to finish. She heard him grunting.

She could smell his sweat, and feel it dripping on her belly. She could feel his cock pummeling her pussy. He liked to fuck this way, hard and fast. Maybe some women would like it, but she had no interest in it. She prayed it would end soon.

Finally he came, pounding her cunt as he shot off, his balls slapping against her ass as the jism shot out of his prick. He always came like a bull and she always found it disgusting.

He rolled away from her and in a moment he was asleep. She suspected this time he would sleep until noon. For the second time that morning, she left the bed and went to wash in the bathroom. His sweat soiled her and jism and she wondered if she ought to have another shower. As she sat on the toilet, she lost control and started weeping.

But finally she pulled herself together. She had to get on with her life. As she expected, Ken slept until noon. She made lunch and they had it on the patio. They waved at the neighbors and Angela wondered what went on in the other houses. Most of them had kids. Maybe someday she'd have children also and the problems she had now wouldn't matter any more.

After lunch she wanted to be alone. Ken started watching a football game and Angela decided to take the car somewhere. Anywhere. Just to get away. Ken waved goodbye as she walked out. His eyes never left the TV screen. She was happy to have her freedom. At least for a few hours she could do what she wanted.

She drove out to the country. It was a pleasant day and the farms and orchards she passed seemed so peaceful. She finally picked a side road at random and turned onto it off the highway. After a few hundred yards, she pulled the car over on the shoulder of the road and she climbed out to walk.

She hadn't walked along a road like this since her childhood. The road was isolated, hardly any traffic, nothing more than a single old jalopy in ten minutes. She liked the silence, the open sky, and the smell of fresh cut hay.

Then a van came by, one of those vans with curtained windows and lurid colors on the outside. It slowed down as it passed Angela, and then it stopped about fifty yards ahead of her.

She continued walking towards it. She could see a farmhouse off on the right and she felt completely safe. What could happen out here at two o'clock on a Sunday afternoon?

The back of the van opened and a man and a woman got out. They looked at Angela and she felt even better because of the woman. A woman meant it was safe. She continued walking. Before she passed them, they smiled and the woman spoke to her.

"Need a lift, honey? Why don't you climb in?"

Angela thanked them, but told them no. They blocked her way and she was suddenly afraid. Now she realized she was all alone out here.

"Please, just let me pass."

The woman laughed and opened the back of the van. The man grabbed Angela's arm. She struggled. The woman came to help the man. They forced Angela into the van and then climbed in after her. The woman pulled the door shut. A second man was up front behind the wheel. He called back to them. "Okay?"

The woman answered. "Okay, Moose, get going."

Angela cowered on the carpeted floor of the van. She could feel her head spinning. She thought she was about to faint, but it didn't happen. The van was moving now and there was no way to get out. The people who'd forced her inside had the door blocked off.

The woman smiled at Angela. She was about Angie's age and pretty. She wore a tank top and one of her arms had a metal band around it.

"What's your name, doll? I'm Lola and this is Jerry."

Angela finally sat up. "You can't do this. Please stop this thing and let me out."

The woman chuckled. "We can't do that now. Once Moose starts moving, he doesn't like to stop until he gets where he's going. Just rein and everything will be fine. You still haven't told us your name. Come on, have some beer and you'll feel better."

Angela was terribly afraid. Lola tried to soothe her, but Angela could tell that Lola wasn't sincere. They were taking her somewhere against her will. Lola kept asking her name and finally she told it to them.

"I'm calling the police as soon as I can."

Jerry said hardly anything. Then Angela gasped as she saw him bring some rope out of a pile of junk near where he was sitting. Bath Jerry and Lola came towards her and she was helpless.

"Just to make sure you don't try anything," Lola said.

They tied her up. They soon had her ankles tied together and her wrists tied behind her back and a wad of cloth stuffed into her mouth. She lay on the floor and started crying into the gag.

"Oh shut up," Lola said. She sipped beer out of the can she held in her hand. She talked to Angela. She said Angela was pretty. She took another slug out of the can, and then she handed the can to Jerry. His eyes continually on Angela, Jerry finished the beer and put the can down.

"She's a knockout."

Lola laughed. "Yeah, she sure is. I think Cory's going to like her."

Jerry kept looking at Angela's legs and ass and tits, and then finally he touched her. He ran his hands over her tits, his fingers rough as he squeezed her flesh.

Lola laughed. "Don't break anything, love."

"Just looking," Jerry said. He opened the front of Angela's blouse and pulled one of her tits out of her bra. "Nice. Very nice." Then he pulled her dress up to look at her thighs and ass. He fondled her ass through her panties. "Yeah, she's a piece, all right."

He squeezed her ass. He pulled her panties down to uncover her asscheeks.

Angela closed her eyes and shuddered as he pulled her asscheeks apart to look at her asshole. She heard him laugh. She heard Lola laugh. She wanted to scream, but she had the gag in her mouth and a scream would be useless.

Then she felt Jerry's fingers in her ass crack. He probed her cunt, his fingers pushing inside her dry cunt-channel. The fingers finally came out and he tickled her asshole. She wanted to die. His finger rubbed around and around, then pushed inside her asshole with a screwing motion.

"Tight as a drum and clean as a whistle," Jerry said.

Lola laughed. "All right, let's fuck her and get it over with."

Angela sobbed in her throat as she squirmed away from Jerry's finger. She heard them laughing. She trembled from head to toe as she heard them laughing.