DON'T RESCUE ME, PART 5?Utter defeat and forced capitulation.
By Elrohir, Elrohir57@gmail.com
She takes him beyond his last boundary. 


Part 5

When he awoke she was already up, had locked the door to the master bathroom
and was in the shower again. He slipped on his t-shirt and pajama bottoms and
went down to the kitchen to make coffee as usual. He was in a slightly better
mood. Their lovemaking on the couch the night before had been as sweet and
loving as when they were first together, even though he was still a little mad
that she had publicly humiliated him in the elevator of his office building
the previous day. That day and night had been just another reminder that often
she could be really mean to him, but could be surprisingly loving at other
times, and there seemed to be no way for him to influence her to be one way or
the other. Still, he thought, last night's love had been almost worth enduring
yesterday's humiliation.

He was standing at the counter waiting for the Keurig to finish when she came
into the room wearing that damn shorty robe that made her so irresistible,
making him tremble with both fear and anticipation. She slowly undid the belt
and let the robe slide off her shoulders to the floor to reveal her body in
all its bodacious glory, naked except for -- what the hell was that??? A big,
black, strap-on dildo, he soon realized. "W-w-what are you gonna do with
that?" he stammered, as if he didn't know.

She laughed at the silliness of the question, which galvanized him into
action: he bolted past her toward the door, but she tripped him as he went by
and he went sprawling face down on the floor. He got up and tried to get away,
but she caught him from behind and wrapped her left arm around his neck,
trapping his Adam's apple in the crook of her elbow. He went to his knees to
try to throw her forward, but she simply pulled him up and backward, then down
until he was in a sitting position on the floor with his feet splayed out in
front of him. He grabbed at her arm futilely and was once again reminded how
much stronger than him she had become. He swung his right elbow back behind
him blindly, since he couldn't tell exactly where her head was. He only
lightly contacted her forehead, but it was just enough to enrage her: She
responded by using her right hand to roughly push the back of his head
forward, trapping his neck further in the vice-like grip of her left arm.
"ACK!" was the last sound he made before going unconscious.

When he came to, she was lifting him up off the floor by his armpits. She felt
him stir and knew he would likely try to resist, so she shoved her arms
through and up, clasping her hands together behind his neck and pulling down
in a half-Nelson. She threw him around and forced his torso face down on the
big kitchen table. Before he could react she released the hold and grabbed his
right arm, twisting it up behind his back in a painful hammerlock. When he
tried to move she poured on the power, making him feel like his shoulder would
separate at any second. "AAAGH!" he cried in pain and fear.

He turned his head to the left and came face to face with an open can of
shortening, which made him squirm until she again twisted his arm and powered
him into painful submission. Keeping the hammerlock on with her right hand,
she dipped into the fat with her left and smeared some up and down the shaft
of her big, black rod. It looked HUGE to Stanley, and he trembled and
instinctively tightened up when he felt the tip of it nuzzle at his anus. "Oh
Baby!" she chuckled, "Don't fight it! That'll just make it harder for you."

"UGH!" he grunted as slowly, inexorably she pushed the phallic invader through
the gates of his nether region. At first he felt a strange need to defecate,
but as the shaft probed deeper that feeling went away and he began to feel
completely filled; his insides melted around the hard, smooth shaft like it
was becoming part of him.

She, too, had to adjust as she began slowly thrusting in and out. The little
nub on her end of the device intensely stimulated her clit in a way she'd
never felt before. Once she found a comfortable position, however, the feeling
was glorious. As a result, her thrusts became more and more rapid and
insistent. Soon she too was grunting with every stroke just as he was, but in
her case it was from pleasure.

Once he had been stretched, Debra's thrusting no longer seemed to hurt him,
physically. But the humiliation of her aggressive pounding still wounded his
psyche with every filling push. The big fuck rod would partially withdraw for
a moment, but that brief respite was filled with the anticipation of yet
another distending push. "UGH! UGH! UGH!" he grunted along with every powerful
thrust.

Eventually she was deep inside him, vigorously stimulating his prostate, and
it was sending electric pulses though him he'd never felt before. He would not
-- could not -- admit to himself that the sensation was pleasurable, but his
cock seemed have a mind of its own, growing in spite of his conscious denial.
He soon felt that his prostate had its own, automatic reaction approaching.

His flagpole was only up to about half-staff, when suddenly he felt the
involuntary explosion it triggered. "AAAAAAAAAGH!" he cried as globs of white
lava spewed across the space under the table in three or four bursts. The last
of them was markedly weaker than the others; the dying expulsion merely
dribbled out and fell onto his bare feet.

She smiled with satisfaction as she felt him in spasm beneath her, knowing she
had made him come against his own will even as she continued to use his spent
body for her pleasure, pounding toward her own thundering orgasm. As she
neared her peak she drove ever harder and deeper into him, causing his whole
body to flinch with each violent thrust. Finally, with one great cry, she
herself exploded, her body tensing all over for one instant. The hand
maintaining the hammerlock on Stanley reflexively clenched, straining the
ligaments in his hand and wrist almost to tearing. She flowed in one big
torrent as she came, the juices overflowing her love vessel and running down
her leg.

His sobbing cries of pain somehow brought her out of her reverie. She backed
out of him a bit and relaxed, leaning forward and resting her breasts against
his back. She paused until he stopped sobbing, sniffed up his tears, and
gradually returned to breathing normally. "That was so GOOD, baby!" she
whispered in his ear.

She had intended to have him give her faux cock a good cleaning blow job and
then make him clean the juices from her legs and pussy with his tongue, but he
appeared to be in no shape to accomplish either task. He looked physically
destroyed and utterly exhausted; tears were again welling up in the corners of
his eyes as he lay there, unmoving. She unbuckled the strap-on leaving it
embedded in him. She bent down, kissed him on the cheek and quietly said
"Clean up this mess before you leave for work, baby." Then she turned and
headed for the stairs. Traumatized, he stayed there motionless, bent over the
table, his eyes open and staring at nothing, giving no indication that he'd
heard what she said. As she climbed back up the stairs to return to bed,
however, she heard him again sobbing, albeit quietly.

* * * * * *

He didn't make it to work until almost lunchtime, and then he couldn't
concentrate. Even so, he stayed later than usual and returned home only when
he thought he'd better do so to avoid some sort of punishment for staying away
too long. She did not meet him at the door this time. He found her on the
couch in the living room, dressed in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, eating
pizza from a delivery box on the coffee table. She had an open beer to go with
it, and there was another one unopened on the table in front of his usual
seat.

"You're late," she said, but not in a mean way. She knew he would not come
home until he had to; the pizza was there to emphasize that she had started
without him.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

"No problem," she said, again very evenly. "Here," she said, opening his beer
and handing it to him. He took a swig; it was almost warm from having been out
on the table waiting for him, but it tasted good anyway. He took a piece of
pizza out of the box from Vito Provolone's, noticing that it had pepperoni and
green peppers, both his favorites, and in the box there was a little cup of
anchovies on the side just for him. He fished one out and put it on his slice.
It was delicious.

He was suspicious, though, because she was being so nice to him. He had missed
most of Jeopardy! due to being so late, but they watched the rest of the show
in silence while they drank the beer and ate most of the pizza. He went into
the kitchen and got her a beer and two more for him, his prescribed ration for
the day, and brought them back to sit with her in front of the TV.

She saw that he had two beers and said, "You don't have to stop with those
two, you know."

"Why not?" he said quizzically.

"Because I don't care about how much you drink, anymore. It was just a way of
mentally controlling you, really, and I no longer need to do that. I know I
said you get obnoxious when you drink more than three drinks, but in truth
that only happens once in a while, so there's really no need to limit how much
you drink. From now on, if you get obnoxious, I can just beat the hell out of
you, or rape you, or whatever punishment I decide is appropriate at the time.
It should become a self-correcting problem."

"Are you planning on punishing me tonight?" he said, trying not to show fear
in his eyes.

"Not unless you do something later that merits punishment. I mean, I no longer
need to mentally abuse you in order to try to manipulate you to do my will.
That indirect, passive/aggressive stuff is over. For the last week and a half,
I've abused and overpowered you physically and sexually in just about every
way possible. And it's been such a rush, so much more gratifying than mere
mental manipulation, and there wasn't a lot more I could do in that regard,
anyway. Our new situation has been quite freeing for me, actually. From now on
if I want you to do something, I'll just make you do it. If I want something
from you, I'll just take it. This war's over, and I won. Wouldn't you agree?"

"So, the rape, the rough sex whenever you want it, all those other things were
just..."

"My way of conquering you, yes. You've taken everything I've done to you and
come back for more. I was pretty sure after this morning that you were
completely humiliated and broken, and yet you haven't left me. You're still
here, and now we're sitting here talking and eating pizza like nothing
happened. There's really no point in me doing anything else to you, is there?
Anything else would just be piling on."

"I suppose not," he said tentatively. And that was the last thing either of
them said for quite a while. They watched TV together without speaking or
looking at each other. Several times she took out her phone and read or sent a
text message, then put it away again. When, much later, the news came on and
the headlines were generally uninteresting, she finally turned toward Stanley
and looked at him appraisingly for what seemed like forever. He knew she was
looking at him but he didn't look back at her because he was unable to come up
with anything to say, afraid of what her response might be.

"Do you want some more pizza?" she asked, finally. He shook his head. "I'm
going to bed, then." She stood up, leaned over and kissed him on the forehead,
then picked up the pizza box and took it into the kitchen to put in the
refrigerator.

Stanley just sat there thinking, overwhelmed by the impact of what Debra had
just said as well as the events of the last week and a half. Her words this
time had hurt him almost more than anything else she had done to him. She was
so matter of fact, telling him how things were, and that he would have no say
about it. He felt lower than low, as if he no longer mattered to her. He was a
pet dog, or a tool to be used, perhaps no more than a living dildo. He
wondered how long it would be before she tired of him as a plaything. Heck, it
sounded almost as if that time might have already come, since she made it
sound like there was nothing more for her to do to him. Unable to think of
anything else to do, he went to bed and slipped in beside her to spoon,
putting an arm around her middle, but she was asleep and did not stir, snoring
softly.