Intro: "This story is written from both characters' points of view, alternating back and forth. It starts out with Liz talking. Each time the viewpoint changes from Liz to Bill, a line of (*) follows."
-The Author
*
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. I can hear Bill moving about the living room, cursing under his breath. We had barely spoken over the past two weeks, ever since his return from his last business trip. The meetings had not gone well for him, making him moody and distant. I knew it was useless to even attempt a conversation when he was like this. So day after day, I've been 'tiptoeing' around him, only asking questions when it has been absolutely necessary. However, earlier this evening he seemed to have snapped out of it, so much so that he had even tried acting playful and affectionate with me. But I've grown weary of his dark moods, and find it increasingly more difficult to go from cold to hot whenever he decides the time is right. So, instead of continuing to ignore him, I finally decided I would go to bed. "Aw, come on Hon, wait," he had said sweetly, after I told him where I was going, but I just kept walking.
*************
I stop pacing and head into our room. I look at Liz as I take off my shirt and let it fall to the floor, knowing how much this annoys her. There is a distant, far-away look on her face. It's an _expression I know all too well; it usually means she's meditating, trying to keep her rage in check. That's when I notice what she is wearing and roll my eyes. It's an old night gown, one of her least sexy ones, the one she always wears when she wants to signal she is not in the mood. But it's semi-gauzy and worn, and she's lying directly in the stream of light coming from the hallway. I let out a sigh. I can see the outline of her breasts, her dark areolas visible through the material. From the way the gown envelops her pubic area, I assume she is not wearing any panties either. Damn her!
I finish undressing and sit on the edge of the bed as I pull off my underwear. The bed moves and I realize Liz is rolling over on her side, facing away from me. My anger comes back in waves. I can't believe how long it's been since I've fucked her. I feel like I'm going to burst. Maybe if I cuddle with her, she'll calm down. Lying next to her, I move my body close. Putting an arm around her waist, I pull her against me, spooning her.
"Fuck off," she says as she grabs my hand and tries pushing it away.
I'm shocked. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me, fuck off!"
*************
I feel my breast being grabbed, then kneaded, lightly. I hear his voice as he nuzzles my ear. "Lizzie, it's been over a month now. Come on Hon. Please, let me make love to you."
I pull his hand off my breast and push it away. How dare he think he can win me over just like that. I want to scream at him, but I control my tone of voice. "It's been over a month because you were away for two weeks. And then when you came home, you did nothing but act like a complete asshole!"
He's really annoyed now; I can tell by the way he's just sucked in his breath. His voice comes at me in a harsh whisper. "So that's it. You're just going to ignore me from now on?" His hand moves down to my stomach, and I'm pulled even closer to him. I know what he's doing; he wants me to feel his hardness pressing against my bottom. I try moving away, but his grip is too tight. His breath is hot on my neck. "Feel that?" he asks me. "I'm going to take it and shove it up your cunt whether you want it or not. Enough is enough!"
I feel my face flush as the rage I've been holding in overcomes me. I draw my arm forward and using all my strength, I shove my elbow back. I hear a loud hiss as I realize that I must have connected with his ribs. The words fly out of my mouth as I try to get away. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"
"I'm talking to you, you little bitch!" he's yelling now. "I've had it with your bullshit!"
"My bullshit?" I laugh sarcastically as I continue. "You fucking kill me. I HAVE had it, you hear me? I've had it with you! I've had it with your moods! And I've had it with the way you expect me to jump for joy anytime you show me a little attention!"
*****************
My blood is boiling now. "Fine," I tell her. I let go of her body and roll away. I watch as she lies perfectly still. I can tell she is wondering what I'll do next; I'm wondering myself. She understands me well enough to realize she's pushed me past my limit. I know she is dying to turn and look, but she's forcing herself not to move. A thought pops into my head, and I act on it. I go to the closet and grab a Federal Express box I have hidden. I walk back across the room and fling the box onto the bed, enjoying the fact that it just made her jump a little. I climb back on the bed, grab her arm and jerk her body toward the center of the bed. Before she can react, I push her on her back. As quickly as I can, I kick a leg over onto her other side and sit lightly on her hips. I see her looking at the box, a quizzical _expression on her face. I chuckle.
"Remember how we shared fantasies a few months ago, Lizzie dear?" I ask her, my voice thick with sarcasm. "Well, I was going to surprise you with these, but I guess now's as good a time as any to try them out."
Her eyes widen as it begins to dawn on her what my plans are. We had been looking at a sex toy website a while ago when we came across some soft leather cuffs. I had pointed to them and teased her about whether she had ever thought about being tied down. I remember her face reddening, but she admitted that it had always been a fantasy of hers. Now she realizes what I am pulling out of the box and her mouth flies open.
"Get the fuck off me," she screams at me, struggling to get out from under my legs. I look at her and laugh.
"But I thought you wanted to try this, honey." I say in my best, sickeningly sweet tone.
"Not like this. Not when we're both so angry."
**********
Bill shrugs his shoulders, as if to say 'too bad'. This more than anything enrages me, so much so that I lash out at him, trying to hit him, but he's too quick. My wrists cry out in pain as he grabs one, then the other, forcing them together. I struggle as one of his big hands wraps around both of mine, but he is much too strong for me. I continue to squirm under him, pushing and pulling my arms as I watch him grab one of the cuffs. I fight harder still, but it's no use. He buckles the cuff around a wrist, then releases that hand, reaching for the other cuff. I punch and claw at him with my newly freed fist, but he doesn't seem to care. He's now the got the other wrist cuffed. My arm is stretched and he attaches the tether to the bedpost. Still punching at him with my remaining free hand, he quickly pulls that arm straight, and loops the tether to the opposite post.
My mind is racing. I can't ever remember seeing Bill like this. My anger is giving away to a small amount of fear as I study his face. His brow is furrowed, his eyes have narrowed to almost a squint, and his lips are pursed tight. His face moves closer, until it nearly touches mine. I hear him whisper, huskily, "What are you going to do now, Lizzie darling?" Suddenly, his mouth is covering mine, hard. His kisses feel angry; his tongue is shoving its way deep into my mouth. I feel him let up a bit, and I bite down hard, catching his chin and drawing blood. He jumps back and raises his hand as if he's going to slap me. I flinch, and he holds up. I can tell that it just took every last bit of restraint on his part not to follow through and hit me.
"Go ahead, keep fighting me. It's not going to do you any good." His voice sounds icy.
I start using my legs, trying to push my lower body, trying to get out from under him. He moves further down the bed. I kick at him, but again, he is much too quick. I let out a yelp as I feel him pin my legs to the bed. The grip on my left leg lets up. I look down to see him concentrating his efforts on cuffing my right ankle. My body is yanked because he is now pulling my leg as hard as he can, tying the tether to the bottom edge of the bed. I suddenly realize that all the pulling and yanking he's doing is an attempt on his part to make me totally immobile, my body taut. Although I know it's probably useless, I try kicking him with my free leg. The son-of-a-bitch laughs, as he grabs at it and buckles a cuff around my ankle. I feel as if my thigh might rip from its socket as he keeps tugging, and he tethers the cuff to the other side. My legs feel as if they're stretched as far apart as they can go; I can barely move.
************
