Dianne could hardly remember now what Phillip had said, or how she had coped with it. They had gotten up, straightened their clothing and avoided looking at one another, saying little more. At the door, he had gazed at her for a long moment, his expression troubled, ashamed… kissed her quickly and left. She hadn't seen him again.
To say the least, he'd left her in a state of mental and physical disconcertion. She'd barely slept a wink all night. He hadn't been man enough to take her, and that was truly what she had wanted; yet, simultaneously she was aware that had he raped her she would've hated him for all time. She'd been terribly upset and confused; Mark Coleman couldn't have picked a more strategic moment to approach her.
The following afternoon he'd burst from his office a little before five, studied her for a passing of seconds, then, with a seemingly handsome impulsive smile, said: "Dianne… I want to ask you a question… a rather important question…"
Her mouth had fallen open slightly; he'd never called her Dianne… always, Miss Lovell.
"Well?" he pressed.
"Yes… of course, Mr. Coleman," she'd managed after a moment. "What is it?"
"Over dinner this evening, eh?" He continued to smile.
"Dinner…? This evening? Well… I…"
"Fine. I'll pick you up around seven." He'd spun away, then paused again before his door to turn back. "Don't forget to leave me your address, eh?"
"No-No… that is, yes, of course… I'll remember…"
God, he had simply overwhelmed her, Dianne realized as she stepped from the shower to towel herself… charmed her at a time when her defenses were at lowest ebb. The candlelight, the champagne, his handsome smile and gallant air… my God, she'd have gone to the ends of the earth with him that night.
"Yes… oh yes!" she'd answered with the same spontaneity he'd used in proposing the question. "I will marry you, Mark! I will…!"
And she had, that very night! Insanity! Wild, exciting, insanity!
She remembered how unbelievably happy she had been clinging tightly to him as they flew from Los Angeles to Reno… and the way both of them had weaved a little tipsily from the champagne while they held to one another before the Justice of the Peace… and then had followed the sudden horror of the bridal suite, shocking her back to the depths of reality, and beyond…
He'd started to drink heavily the moment they were alone, tipping the bottle up to his lips and angry with her because she wouldn't do the same.
"Please, Darling… don't drink anymore?" she'd tried, forcing a little smile, the first twinges of apprehension beginning to stir inside her. She'd crossed to where he stood near the dresser, the half-empty champagne bottle in his hand, and slipped her arms around his neck. "We… we don't want anything to spoil this night… do we, Darling?"
He'd stared at her through rapidly glazing eyes, his thin-lipped mouth suddenly quite bloodless and cold looking. At last he took her wrist gently but firmly and put her from him.
"It's already, a bit rancid, my dear," he said thickly. "The Justice of the Peace managed that… but I suppose it's a necessary evil… Damnit."
Dianne doubted that, he could've stunned her more had he struck her a vicious blow with his fist. She had stood there dumbfounded, staring at him in perplexed disbelief. His words had jarred her backwards several steps, and now she recalled how she'd begun to shake her head as she watched the almost salacious grin twist at his mouth while obvious lust mounted in his drunken eyes.
"Mark…! I-I don't understand… Wh-What're you trying to say…!"
"Trying to say?" he'd repeated, the champagne slurring his words. He chuckled dryly. "A wife I needed… a wife I got. A good politician should have a comely wife… or at least, so think the constituents. It has to do with the image, Darling… pillar of the people and that sort of crap. So… I decided if I had to take on a millstone she was going to be the sexiest one I could swindle, a luscious dream who wouldn't make me sick everytime I fucked her… a virgin preferably, but not necessarily… not too intelligent and not completely stupid…" His eyes had raked her sensuous contours with increasing lasciviousness. "…And you just fit that bill, Dianne."
He was joking… had to be joking! It was all some horribly warped piece of macabre humor and done in very bad taste… and filthy words… dear God! It couldn't be true! Impossible! She'd backed further away from him, gaping in near horror… He was drunk… didn't realize what he was saying! Yes! That was it! She must help him… get him to bed. Sleep… sleep… he needed sleep…!
"You can strip now," he'd said, interrupting her frenzied thoughts, setting the bottle down onto the dresser and beginning to pull at his own clothing. "It's time you started paying for all the luxuries I'm going to be forced to lavish on you, Mrs. Coleman."
She had backed to the bed but caught herself before falling onto it. Then, she saw him stagger toward her causing her breath to catch in her throat, and in confused panic she had dashed to the door, pulling frantically at the knob.
Mark paused and laughed behind her. Too late, she'd realized that it was locked and he'd taken the key! She swung about to face him. He grinned at her loosely, almost evilly, his tongue slipping out to wet his thin lips.
"Strip, I said!"
"M-Mark… my God… no, please… not now… not this way," she pleaded. "I can't… I just can't…"
"A bit late, my pet," he said, a cold cruel grin beginning to play around his mouth. "Way too late for anything but fucking, now…"
"Oh, my God!" she'd gasped, cringing within at the vile sound of the obscene word she couldn't remember ever having heard uttered before this night, and its very significant meaning to her at that petrifying moment, while he continued to remove the clothes from his tall, muscular body; until, at last, he stood before her licentiously naked, his thick hard penis lancing out from his lean, hairy loins like some brutal instrument of torment.
She gaped in sheer disbelief as he dropped his hand to it and with a lewd grin, began stroking the heavy, uncircumcised foreskin back and forth over the purplish, bulbous head. It jerked to his own touch and as she stared in abhorrence she thought she detected several drops of white fluid seep from the tiny split at its tip…
"Fascinating gem, isn't it, Darling?" he leered drunkenly, reveling obviously in the shameful torment he was subjecting her to. "I'll wager you had no idea that your new husband was so generously endowed… right?" He laughed lewdly. "Well now… just wait till I slip it into that tight little cunt of yours, then you'll really appreciate it. I'll tell you the truth, Honey… it's made more than one bitch beg for mercy." He started to laugh again, then, caught himself. "By the way, you do have a tight little cunt, I hope…?"
"Stop it! Stop it!" she had shouted at him, tears spilling uncontrollably down her cheeks as he went on with his tormenting, watching the contorted expressions of shock and near-paralyzing fear pass over her wan face in a kaleidoscope of sheer repugnance.
But he hadn't stopped… only continued to grin lewdly at her while she stood as if glued with her back to the door, watching, hypnotized by his stroking of the rigid fleshy shaft with his hand… the unbelievable thickness of it causing her subconscious to recall his words of a moment before… more than one… beg for mercy… My God, no woman could ever take such a thing inside her… it would tear her legs apart!
Again, he started toward her.
"D-Don't come any nearer, Mark! You hear…? Don't touch me!" she'd managed to blurt at him through her loathing and fear, yet realizing that her words were futile… that he was going to take her helpless, virginal body no matter how she pleaded with him… and worse, dear God, that he had a perfect right to do so! She was his wife!
"Are you going to remove those pretty clothes, Darling… or do you want me to rip them off your ass into shreds?"
She recalled how she had stood there completely defenseless, still frozen in semi-shock and near-terror, until he had reached out for her, jerking her to him and clamping her face between his strong hands, his wet lips encompassing hers tightly, his tongue bursting deep into her mouth while the hardness of his prick had gouged into the soft flesh of her belly… then he was stripping her.
She hadn't tried to fight him. As terrified and sickened as she was, she realized the uselessness of struggling. She was his wife and completely at his mercy to do with as he wished. Dear, God, she'd thought, what a monstrous farce she helped to perpetrate on her own self…
"That's my precious little wife," he'd hissed at her. "Come let Daddy prepare you for the fucking of your life."
Once more, she'd cringed at the vile sound of the obscene word he had breathed hotly into her tear-stained face. Actually, she'd been but dimly conscious of his eager hands moving over her body, tugging at zippers and unfastening snaps, until the air caressed her naked flesh, hardening the nipples of her unleashed, full white breasts, and then she felt her panties being pulled down over the softness of her smooth rounded buttocks.
He'd stepped back then and gazed at her while she closed her eyes and stood, chin high, trying desperately to control the tears attempting to flood from them, near losing her balance as she swayed dangerously in her self-inflicted darkness… There was nothing left but shame now…
"Christ, you're a luscious sight to behold!" he'd gasped, pulling her against his lust incited nakedness, crushing her breasts flat to his powerful, hairy chest, his hands cupping the round full globes of her buttocks and hauling her close until his hard jerking staff burrowed tightly into the white softness of her flaccid belly. "You're all that I thought you were going to be… when I watched this tight little ass of yours whip around the office… Damn, how I wanted to fuck that little pussy of yours, Baby… but without benefit of any wedding ring… just flip you onto your back and throw those long legs up over your head… and stuff this cock into that soft white belly until you could taste it…"
"Oh God," she had moaned almost incoherently, her face resting on his shoulder, suddenly unable to comprehend the erotic tingle of excitement his obscene description was arousing in her. And then, he had caught her by the hair, jerking her head back, his open mouth finding hers while his hand clutched and kneaded her left breast mercilessly, pinching and twisting at the nipple, immediately quenching the fleeting passion of a moment before.
She'd whimpered against his lips from the brutal mauling of her soft sensitive breast, her eyes blinded with the tears of her shameful and humiliating deception, while deep within she knotted with the dreaded fear of the inevitable moment when he would try to penetrate her virginal passage with the horrendous cudgel pressing hard against her stomach.
Oh, my God, what had she done? What had she done? And then, suddenly, he was leading her to the bed.
"Oh… oh, please, Mark. My God, be gentle…" she'd tried as he moved her around and pressed her down onto the bed before him, quickly placing one knee between her automatically closing legs. "I-I've never… my God! I'm a virgin, Mark!"
He poised himself above her on all fours, only the one leg between hers, and grinned down at her in his lustful drunken state.
"Really?" he said thickly. "Well now that's some phenomenon these days, even for a successfully practicing attorney and future state senator." He chuckled excitedly. "All in your favor though, Darling. At least, it makes me fell I'm getting my money's worth. So… spread them beautiful legs, and we'll change all that."
"P-Please, Mark… My God, be gentle…"
"Spread 'em damnit!" he'd snarled, as if nothing else mattered to him but burying his hard cock inside her chaste tender flesh, and reluctantly she had opened her thighs while he lifted his other leg and planted himself commandingly between the long white columns, his now red-rimmed eyes gaping down lustfully at the pink moist flesh of her slightly opened cuntal lips. Then, he sat back momentarily on his haunches, still staring at the completely exposed sight of her sparse, golden, hair-covered vagina, and as she watched in near-paralyzed fear, he placed his palms flat against the inside of her soft, smooth thighs, his thumbs resting on the soft downy flanges of her cunt. Her breath had hitched in her chest as with a slow, tantalizing outward movement, he drew the gently pulsating lips slowly apart, exposing the moist coral flesh to the mercy of his drunken gaze.
"Christ!" he gasped once more. "Baby, that's the tiniest little pussy I've seen in a long time!"
"M-Mark… Mark, please… don't hurt me…?" she'd begged; the words tumbling pleadingly from her trembling lips.
He'd said nothing, only sucked in his breath and suddenly dropped down onto her, his hands plundering greedily over the soft lush contours of her fear stricken young body, squeezing her full, succulent breasts sadistically, his mouth lowering to chew hungrily at one nipple then the other, while she had writhed painfully beneath him.
"Oh… oh, my God…" she'd moaned beneath his depraved attack. He'd held her imprisoned to the bed with the weight of his strong sinuous body, her head rolling back and forth wildly while his hand sought his prick and jammed the blood-filled head between the moist, tender lips of her vagina, working it up and down briefly to part the soft, sparse pubic hair, and thrusting it forward against the tight, cringing mouth of her reluctant cunt.
Abruptly, her terror had gotten the better of her; she'd tried to scream… couldn't! Then, she'd felt the agonizing pressure beginning. For one brief moment, she'd thought she could endure it, but it quickly became obvious to her that it would never fit. Again, she tried to scream.
He flicked his hips forward.
"OOOOooooohhhhh Godddd, noooo, nooo!"
Her brain reeled, but more from fear than the pain. She'd heard him curse vilely, then he'd pressed into her again, flexing his buttocks with brutal strength, until suddenly it gave. The tight elastic ring of her vaginal entrance had popped open with a snapping, unexpected sound and the huge spongy head slipped wetly inside her with a rush that left her gasping for breath.
"Aaaaaaaaaaagggggggggghhhhhhhh!"
She flailed her head insanely and tried to get her talon-crooked fingers up to claw at his face with her nails as she'd squirmed and twisted like a madwoman, endeavoring to escape the cruel and agonizing impalement of her helpless cunt.
She'd squealed as might a speared animal thrashing in its final death-throes while he caught her wrists and pinned them back to the bed; she kicked her legs out frantically in a futile attempt for relief, but the move only worsened her position, and he'd sunk his massive prick deeper into her yielding flesh without benefit of mercy while she'd begun to half-screech incoherently from the unbelievable pain. Brutally, his stone-hard cock had bored further and further into her unprepared, virginal passage, expanding the sensitive moist walls until she'd been certain her thighs would split asunder from the outward, relentless pressure… then, his pelvis had smacked resoundingly against her own and she'd felt his balls dangling heavy between the upturned cheeks of her tightly clenched ass.
She had tried to speak, beg, anything… but couldn't raise the words from her throat. He had whipped her breath away with his cruel penetration of her unreceptive and unwanting vagina, the scalding pain emitting from it and her whole crotch area assuring her that he had torn her badly, and as the vile, massive thing lay entombed beyond reason deep in her quivering belly, the warm and wet stretched walls of her cunt wrapped like a salved bandage around it, she'd been certain she could feel the blood trickling down the cleft between her buttocks to form a warm, wet pool beneath her on the bed.
But he'd never stopped. Like some mad rapist, he'd never even given her an acclimating moment of adjustment to his sudden invasion deep inside her womb. He'd simply commenced to fuck, plunging in and out of her in the manner of a feral, rutting animal. Half in shock from the pain, as well as the heartbreak, shame and humiliation, she'd gaped up helplessly at his drunken lust-contorted face, trying with all of her heart to fathom what lay beyond that mask as he hammered inhumanly in and out of her. Her eyes had blurred with her tears, but more from the mental anguish as the pain slowly began to subside and she determined that his only thought was to spew his waiting load of white, hot semen deep inside her in the age old heritage of the dominating male animal.
And he had! Again and again that night, he'd emptied his lust-filled loins into her, flooding her belly with the hot white liquid of his passion… but never once waiting for her own need to be fulfilled.
In time, when the pain had passed completely, and her moist tingling passage had flowered open to him, fiery tongues of ecstatic pleasure had begun to lick hungrily at her soft sensitive flesh. Uncontrollably, her whole body had begun an uncontrollable twitching and writhing beneath him and she'd found herself groaning incessantly up into the wetness of his mouth, shoving her tongue with wild and complete abandon deep into his throat. Her legs on either side of his impaling cock had jerked and quivered of their own volition, and she'd drawn back her knees tight against her throbbing breasts, presenting the naked plane of her loins wide-open to his pile-driving thrusts, and he'd ground hard and deep, his cock boring far up into the hidden, never before touched, sanctuary of her womb.
Oh God, yes! She loved him! Would always love him… no matter what he was or what he did to her… She loved him!
At that moment, she had nearly begged him! Her body had screamed for release; he had driven her desire to that point with his liquor-sodden lust; but seconds before she had reached the hair-away pinnacle he had again shot the warm white dregs of his loins into her… then, with a long groan, passed out cold on top of her…
Such had been her wedding night… and all nights she'd ever spent with him since. Now, as she came from the bath to her vanity, once more attired in the provocative sheer negligee, Dianne realized that she loved him no less than she had in the very beginning. Good God, she didn't know why she should… but she did. Perhaps it had become a masochistic thing with her, she thought, picking up the brush and beginning to stroke the heavy cascade of silken blonde-hair.
He didn't love her, nor had he ever. That much she knew. She supposed she should be thankful that he'd been honest enough to tell her that at the start. At least, there was no deception on the score; he'd married her to enhance his vote-getting image. In exchange, he had lavished her with every luxury wealth could buy. She wanted for nothing material… only his love… but he couldn't give what he didn't possess.
Over brandies at dinner last evening, he had remarked what a lovely first-lady of the state she would one day make… and momentarily she had thought she detected a softening to his usual ruthless eyes, a gentling to his cold hard smile… and then, he had left. Of course, she had no idea where he went or when he would be back. He never told her that.
It was almost impossible for her to believe that the man she had dined with and the man whose bed she shared on those rare occasions were one and the same. Dear God, what happened to him in the interim? Liquor? Perhaps. Anyway, she loved him; he was her husband. Forgetting all else, he was her husband, an he was taxing himself beyond reason, either for a personal or inherent family goal… she didn't know which. But whichever, she would stand beside him, through campaigns and country club dances, until all was right between them, even their lovemaking; then, perhaps, she would be his first lady.
Really, that was all she wanted… wasn't it…?