“You don’t have to do that, honey. I know you don’t like it. I won’t force you to do something you don’t like,” he told her, and she smiled.
“I’ll let you do whatever you want tonight. I’ll let you use the ropes,” she stated, and his dick hardened beneath her.
“Okay, baby. Go lay on the bed and I’ll get the ropes.”
She slowly repositioned herself on the bed. He watched her, and beneath the dim light, he could see how scared she was. It turned him on. Her fear would feed his sexual appetite. He could do this. He could fuck his wife and pretend it was Stacy. That was the only way to get through this. Tomorrow he would contact the investigator. The guy had to be getting closer.
Barry got undressed and grabbed what he needed from the closet. He had removed the ropes, bindings, sex toys, and whip from the bedside table a week after they were married. Claire had demanded that he remove them.
He looked at her and crawled between her legs as he tied the rope to the two posts on the head board.
“You really like this kind of thing, huh?” she whispered, her voice cracking.
“You’ll like it, too,” he told her and continued to imagine that the woman below him was Stacy.
“No. I don’t think I will. I’m trying to understand you.”
“Don’t analyze me during sex. You asked for it and now you’re going to get it.”
A few minutes later, Claire lay naked and tied to the bed. The special bindings allowed him to roll her to her back without hurting her arms or crossing them.
He flipped her over, and she squealed.
“What are you doing?”
“You’ve been a naughty girl, Claire. You n
eed to be punished.”
“No!” she screamed, but he ignored her protests and showed her a small glimpse into his world. A world she could never be part of. By the time he was through with her, Claire would never question him again or accuse him of anything.
* * * *
“How is she?” Max asked Eric as he walked out of Stacy’s bedroom.
“Passed out.” He chuckled then adjusted his cock. Just the sight of her got him all fired up and ready for another round of sex. He hadn’t even bothered to zip up his jeans. It was too uncomfortable.
Max smiled. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”
“Sure is. My dick’s been hard since the first day I met her,” he smirked then took the beer that Max offered. He knew that Max wanted to talk to him. It was probably about the phone calls today from Stacy’s boss.
Max began to explain about what was on the voice messages. With each detail, Eric became angrier and angrier. “Holy shit, this guy is sick. So are the cops in New York going to arrest him?” Eric asked, now feeling on edge and concerned for Stacy’s safety.
“They can’t.”
“What the fuck do you mean, they can’t?” Eric asked, annoyed.
“They don’t have proof that it is, in fact, Barry Weiner. He used a voice distorter and called from an untraceable number.”
“But it is him. He’s the one she has had a problem with. He’s the one who stalked her back in New York.”
“I know, Eric, but the system doesn’t work that way. I know it’s him, and you know it’s him, but there’s no actual evidence proving that it is Weiner and that will stand up in a court of law.”
“Fuck!”
“Exactly. I couldn’t wait to get here and to hold her in my arms. She doesn’t even know half the shit this asshole left on voice mail for her.”
“Like what? I mean, what did he say exactly?” Eric instantly felt sick to his stomach.