"Pathetique!"
Jim could hear his mother-in-law snarl the word as he moved down the hallway past the living room. He didn't pause to find out what had sparked her disapproval; he already knew. It was him. He'd overheard several conversations between his new wife and his mother-in-law since her arrival from France. Not only was it clear that she disapproved of her daughter's marriage, but it was clear that she felt that Monique had shortchanged herself in life experiences.
"You need a man who will take control of you, Monique, not some milquetoast American who gives you whatever you want. You don't know the wonder of having an orgasm forced out of you, while your man takes control of you and makes you his salope. Once you give yourself fully to his control, it's la magie, the wonder. It's the way nature meant it to be! You give yourself to him and your whole body responds to him!" Jim almost laughed when he overheard my mother-in-law haranguing his wife with her theories of human relations.
"But, Maman, Jim gives me many, many orgasms, and he's wonderful. He's kind, and understanding, and..." his wife tried to respond.
"Then he should understand that you need a man who will take you, who will possess you, not kiss your joli cul every time you bend over!" Her mother sounded almost indignant at the thought of a man worshipping his beloved.
Jim had met Monique in Vietnam on his second tour as a 96C, an interrogator. His Queboise mother had taught him French, and the Army had spent a year in Monterey, CA trying to teach him Vietnamese. Jim didn't feel confident in the Asian language, but he had proven himself an ace interrogator in English and French. Monique had worked in the French Embassy in Saigon, and she and Jim had been introduced by a mutual friend. By the end of his tour, they were set to wed.
It wasn't until they returned Stateside and were settling into their quarters at Fort Holabird, MD, that he found out that her mother in France had expressed disapproval of their marriage, when she was notified, after the fact. Jim offered to pay for his mother-in-law's travel expenses to come visit her daughter, sure that once she saw how happy her daughter was, she'd rethink her disapproval.
He didn't understand when that didn't happen. If anything, it cemented her disapproval and disappointment in her daughter.
"Jim, Maman is very much a soumise, someone who needs to be dominated. I used to worry very much about her, because men use and abuse her, and then cast her aside. My father, whoever he was, put her in the hospital when he found out she was pregnant, and left her there. She still weeps for him. She tells me he was the strongest man she ever knew, and still feels she belongs to him." Monique shook her head at her mother's fetish.
Jim laughed. "She's nuts!" He didn't worry as her mother spent her time trying to convert her daughter to her way of thinking. Jim figured if Maman hadn't succeeded by now, everything was going to be fine.
Then Jim was informed that his particular talent was required again in Saigon, and he agreed to another six-month tour, even though it meant extending his enlistment by a full month. He'd planned to take his discharge now that he was married, feeling he would be able to better support his wife and eventual children as a civilian.
Monique's mother volunteered to remain in the States with her daughter while he was gone, and since that seemed to make his wife happy, he agreed. Besides, Sofie had found someone to dominate her on post, a Sergeant Major Jason Stroud, out of the battalion S-2. He seemed like a real bastard to Jim, and although he didn't like the way Stroud ogled his wife, her mother seemed to be able to control him. I did worry about the bruises that were evident on Sofie's arms and every other area of displayed flesh. I was concerned that I might have to step in, something that one attempts at their peril with Sergeant Majors.
"No, no, no," Monique tutted me. "Maman is very happy. This is what she loves. I don't know -- I've never understood it no matter how much she tries to explain. You go, do your duty. Don't worry about Mamie and me. We'll be fine."
So, Jim went to Saigon, and did his tour. He and Monique corresponded, and she always assured him that things were fine, that she loved him and couldn't wait for him to return. "I miss your loving," she would close each letter.
Jim had entered the service in Oakland, CA, and returning from Vietnam, he was shipped to Oakland for out-processing. Once done, he headed home to Holabird, ready to move his wife and her mother out of the base housing.
At the airport, Monique ran to him, jumping into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist. Their kiss was passionate and seemed to go on forever. Finally, they moved on to baggage to retrieve Jim's duffle and grip.
When Monique bent over to pick up his grip, her sleeve moved upwards on her arm and Jim saw three round bruises on her arm. She had been gripped and gripped hard enough to bruise. Jim grabbed her arm and pushed the sleeve all the way up to see the bruises. They weren't the only ones he saw. Monique stared back at him, then reached up and pushed her sleeve back down.
"Don't worry, Jim, everything is fine." When he went to question her, she shook her head and said, "We'll talk at home."
It was a quiet ride home. Scenarios ran through Jim's head, foremost being the expectation that Maman's Sergeant Major had grabbed his wife. Anger festered in Jim's brain. By the time they were home, he was ready to kill that bastard Stroud.
Inside the house, Jim instantly dropped his duffle and spun his wife around to face him. "Okay, now tell me."
"Jim, I love you. It's okay. Let's sit down." Monique pulled him over to the couch and sat, then waited for Jim to join her. "Jim, I love you. I love the way you make love, but" she paused, with a look of guilt that froze Jim's heart. "But Maman was right. There's something about being taken..."
Jim jumped up. "Did that bastard your mother submits to touch you?", he yelled.
"No, no. Mamie would never allow that." Monique nervously smiled. "But he has friends..."
The plural pierced his heart. He picked up his duffle and his grip and staggered out to his car. Monique pursued him, swearing she still loved him, and that Maman assured her that this wouldn't affect their marriage.
Jim controlled himself by squeezing the keys in his hand until they cut into his flesh. He wanted to kill his wife, her lovers, and her goddamned mother. He raised his hand swiftly but stopped its downward movement as his wife cringed. He got into the car, and quickly drove away.
[-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------]
Monique had ignored her mother's urgings to go out and have fun for the first four months of Jim's tour, but finally gave in one night. She was bored. She didn't really like any of the other Army wives, and without children or a job, had nothing to occupy her time. What harm could a night out cause?
It turned out, plenty. Maman's lover brought a friend, "to escort her", was the excuse, and he became her dance partner. It did feel good to have a man hold her. She really missed her Jim.
As the drinks flowed freely, Monique let her hair down, with her mother encouraging her. Her dance partner's hands roamed wildly over her body, and again, it felt good. When he suggested that they go outside to cool off, she agreed. When he kissed her, it didn't seem like much. When he pushed aside her bra and caressed her nipples, they sprang out and hardened, sending shock waves through her body. What happened next was fuzzy, but suddenly her sergeant was ripping off her panties and she was pushed over the fender of a parked car. As he entered her, her first thought was that she was being raped, but then she wondered -- she had been making out with him, enjoying his caresses... Had she said "No" at all? Had she, somehow, agreed?
Then her body began responding. Jim never abused her like this. No one ever had. He was slamming into her, hitting her cervix over and over again, slapping her on the ass, pulling her hair. When he slammed into her and held it as he ejaculated into her womb, her orgasm hit, and hit big. She was not a vocal person during sex; or rather, she never had been. Now she howled. She pushed back and howled as aftershocks sent her reeling.
As she came down from her high and felt the cum leaking out of her, her "lover" zipped up his pants and slapped her on her exposed ass again. "Come on, babe, let's get back in."
She felt guilty, and tried to object when both Sergeants accompanied her mother and her into the house when they went home. Her mother laughed as she was dragged back to the bedroom. Her mother laughed even more in the morning, recalling to her daughter's embarrassment the howling she had heard throughout the night.
After that, she found the joy her mother found in submitting. She loved Jim, but her body responded to dominance. It excited her to be treated like a whore. Over the next two months, Stroud and Maman brought over different men, all of whom dominated the young wife. Sometimes there was one, sometimes more than one.
Her mother's Sergeant never had her sexually, but Stroud would have Mamie tie her down naked and then he would whip her. It hurt, but somehow it impassioned her. She would lie, desperate for release after they had finished whipping her, still tied down as the two lovers frantically coupled. Watching them added to her desperation, and when they would bring in the men, she would orgasm, again and again, until they released her. Then she would submit to whomever they brought in.
She knew she wasn't thinking right. She knew she loved Jim, but even his sweet lovemaking couldn't coax climaxes like these from her, certainly not the rolling series of them she experienced after a good whipping. She allowed Maman to convince her that Jim would understand; that her milquetoast husband would want her to be happy. Everything would be fine once she explained it to Jim.
