This is a Valentine's Day contest story. Please vote.
*
A wife makes a Valentine Day deal with her husband never believing that he'd go through with it.
Today was the day. It was Valentine's Day. Even though I knew Jason wouldn't, couldn't possibly do it, knowing him, I knew he would do it. Over the years, he had grown sick, twisted, and perverted enough to do it. I wouldn't put it past him to do it, only I hoped to God he didn't do it. A bet is a bet and if he did do it, I was fucked and I'd have to keep my end of the bargain, otherwise, he'd make my life holy Hell and I'd never hear the end of it.
I never should have married him, especially after meeting his best friend Tom. If I could change any one thing in my life, it would be marrying Tom, the best man at our wedding, instead of Jason. Yet, before we married, Jason was different back then. So loving and caring, he adored me and I loved him, I truly did. Now, believing that I want every man, jealousy has twisted him. So insecure, if only he'd stop all the nonsense about asking me if I liked this friend or that friend, which one of his friends would I have sex with if I were cheating on him, and if he were dead, which one of his friends would I marry.
"Stop! Just stop! Enough. None of them! I'd have sex with and/or marry none of your friends because they are all fucked in the head and as twisted and perverted as you are. I'd become a Nun or a lesbian, before I allowed any of your friends to touch me."
I was so nervous walking up to the house. I looked to see if I could see anything in the windows, but all the drapes were drawn. Loving how the sun lights up and warms my little house, I never pull the drapes close. Seeing the drapes pulled shut caused my stomach to sink and I knew something was amiss. With a heavy heart, as if going to my own execution or funeral, I walked up the front porch steps with dread and anxiety.
As soon as I walked up to the door, I could smell the floral scent. Fearing the worst, I inserted my key in the lock, turned the key one way and the doorknob in the other, and pushed the door open. Then, as soon as I opened the door, with the whole house colored in red, the fragrance was overwhelming. It's a good thing I'm not allergic to flowers because I would have died in a fit of sneezing at the front door. Bathed in the color crimson that even made the white walls appear tinted red, there were red roses everywhere.
Instead of wondering where he got all the roses, I wondered, instead, where he got all the vases for so many flowers. He must have bought every vase in Wal-Mart. There were fresh roses everywhere, in the reception hall, the dining room, the living room, the kitchen, and even in the downstairs bathroom.
I was shaking with dread of what was to come and with remorse for making the bet with my husband in the first place. Then, I followed the trail of rose petals that littered the hall floor and up the stairs. Once upstairs there were even more roses. Roses were everywhere, in the hall, in my office, in the bathroom, and in the guest bedroom. I couldn't look anywhere without seeing dozens of roses.
The trail of rose petals stopped at my bed. In the way that they were arranged, I could tell that he had fun with roses and rose petals. My bed was filled with rose petals fashioned in the shape of a giant Valentine's Day heart the size of the bed with more rose petals forming more hearts inside the big heart and with one rose in the middle. He won the bet and I knew when I saw all those roses that I'd have to relent and give him what he wanted for Valentine's Day.
I was in big trouble. No doubt, today could possibly be the worst day of my life. As soon as I saw all those flowers, I knew I was in for it.
Jason entered the house a few minutes behind me. I heard him bounding up the stairs. As if turning to give him my final good-bye before facing a firing squad, I turned to greet him with a blush, a smile, and a kiss.
"Hi honey," I said giving him a nervous smile and a big hug. "Thank you for the flowers," I said with a laugh.
"Did you like my red rose surprise, Susan?"
I didn't dare tell him my favorite color roses were white. Had I known what he had planned, a technicality, as my way to weasel out of the deal that I made with my husband, the Devil, I would have told him that because he used red roses instead of white roses, his Valentine's Day surprise doesn't count. Only, knowing him, he'd dump all these flowers and go out and return with white roses.
"I did, I think. Thank you. The roses are all so beautiful," I said. Now that he met his part of the bargain, fearing what was in store for me, I was hoping he wasn't serious. Only, after seeing all these roses and knowing him in the way that I do, I knew he was. "What did you do hi-jack a funeral flower car?"
"Nah, I have a buddy who works at the flower mart. They throw out and give away more flowers than they sell, it seems, sometimes. These are some of their rejects. I bought them for three bucks a dozen. In case you're curious, there are one hundred dozen roses, twelve hundred flowers," he said with a laugh. "That's a rose for every square foot of this house. I think I overwhelmed the house with roses," he said with a gloat.
"Well, they don't look like rejects to me. There's a few droopy ones and some that haven't opened, but they all look pretty good, beautiful, actually, especially seeing them all together like this. I feel as if I died and went to rose Heaven," I said looking at him and giving him another hug and kiss. "You've made me feel so special. Thank you, Jason, for the nice Valentine's Day surprise."
"Roses for my blonde haired, blue eyed honey, they pale in comparison to your beauty," he said returning my hug and kiss, while cupping both my ass cheeks in his hands and pushing me forward by my ass to hump me.
Subtlety was never his strong suit and he always makes me feel dirty when he grabs my ass like that and slutty when he humps me like that. Why can't he just hug me, in the way he used to do, when we were dating? Now, he treats me, as if he owns me, as if I'm his whore.
I hate feeling that I totally belong to him, body and soul, for him to use me and abuse me, however he wishes, to love, honor, and obey, until death do you part. Wondering how long I'd serve for justifiable homicide, I suddenly wished I were dead. No matter, at the very least, I wish he'd respect me more as a person, instead of a sex object and even though I told him that, he doesn't understand how I feel.
Jason loves my ass, his favorite part of my body and he's always trying to coerce me to have anal sex with him, something that just doesn't appeal to me. Sorry, but that onramp is just an off ramp. Closed to incoming traffic, that exit is just a one way off my poop highway. That road is closed to thruway traffic. Sorry, I guess you can tell that I'm a traffic cop.
"Thank you, sweetie. Happy Valentine's Day," I said giving him a kiss and a hug.
"Happy Valentine's Day, doll," he said reaching in his pocket and pulling out red ropes, while giving me a lecherous smile.
"You're not serious," I said looking at him, as if he was crazy or hopefully just kidding. "You are serious," I said giving him a stunned look. "You're really going to do this?"
"After you said, when Hell freezes over, you relented and said that I can tie you to the bed and have my wicked way with you, if I overwhelmed the house with roses on Valentine's Day."
Hoping to wiggle out of our agreement, I was so tempted to say white roses and not red roses, but I couldn't be like that. He went through so much trouble buying one hundred dozen roses, one thousand, two hundred flowers. Between the flowers and the vases, he spent several hundred dollars. How could I disappoint him now? He did it and that was the deal we made. He overwhelmed the house with roses on Valentine's day. If this was his fantasy to tie me to the bed, what's the big deal?
"Jason, baby, you don't have to tie me up to have your wicked way with me," I said stepping closer to him and giving him a long, wet kiss, while fondling the bulge in his pants. "I'm agreeable to anything you want to do to my naked body, baby, that is, so long as it's not anal sex."
I've learned to be legally exacting with Jason, otherwise, he'd turn and twist my words to coerce and force me to do sexual things that I don't want to do to, while satisfying his sexual perversions.
"That's just it, Susan," he said. "I don't want you naked."
"You don't want me naked?" I just looked at him, as if he was out of his mind, which I was beginning to think that he was. "How do you want me?"
Now, I figured, I hoped, that he just wanted me on my knees to give him a face fucking, head banging blowjob. Maybe he changed his mind and decided not to tie to the bed, after all.
"I want you fully dressed," he said with a shit eating grin.
If he wants me fully dressed, then definitely, he just wants a blowjob. That's fine by me. I can do that, so long as he doesn't fuck my face as hard as he did the last time. He nearly knocked my teeth out. I'll give him one Hell of a blowjob for Valentine's Day and for all that he did in decorating the house with roses.
"Don't you want me to have some fun, too? Don't you want to give me pleasure, too? You can't take care of me, if I'm fully dressed, baby," I said kissing him again, while groping his package.
"Don't worry about your clothes. I'll take care of your clothes," he said pulling out a pair of shears from his cargo pant pocket.
"Jason, are you insane? You're actually going to cut off my clothes?"
I looked at him trying to read if he was serious and he was.
"Yeah, so you'd better wear something that's old and clothes you don't care about, like those clothes you wear when painting."
"What did you always have a secret fantasy of working in the hospital emergency room and cutting off people's clothes?"
"Nah, just your clothes," he said with a laugh. "It would excite me to think that I was forcing you."
"Raping me? You want to pretend you're raping me? Eww, I don't know about that, Jason. Sorry, but I'm not into that. Your rape fantasy is not a turn on for me."
"It's just a fantasy, Susan. My fantasy is with you and not with anyone else. Don't worry. You're safe with me."
Safe with him? I'm beginning not to feel safe with him, especially if he tied me to the bed. Trusting him was my first mistake.
"You're really seriously going through with this, aren't you?"
"I am," he said holding up the scissors, while opening and closing them, as if he was Jason Scissorhands, instead of Edward Scissorhands.
"I'm telling you right now, Jason, if I agree to do this, if I agree to have you tie me to the bed, no anal sex."
"I just thought, if you were tied, that we could--"
"No and I mean it, Jason. I'm not into that shit."
