To Love and Obey

Jealousy, submission, obsession fuel the growing estrangement between Cassie and Robert.

(Thank you Gustavca for assisting with the editing of this story)

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Through half closed eyes, I recognized Robert's shadowy outline as he walked through the doorway into my bedroom. At the sight of him, I felt dampness and warmth blossom and spread upward between my legs.

He turned and saw I was awake.

"Good morning, Mrs. Grafton," he said, pulling back the drapery allowing the early morning light to filter into my bedroom.

"Good morning," I replied.

Despite his often abrasive and abusive attitude toward me, Robert had awakened in me the sexual needs and desires of a woman that struggled with the naiveté of a young girl making me feel confused and anxious when we were together. He walked toward the bed and I held my breath when he whispered into my ear, "You were very good last night. You did everything I asked of you. That's exactly what I expect from you, Cassie."

His hand brushed across my cheek when he smiled and continued, "There are a few business matters that I need to attend to today, I'll be home late."

"Alright," I murmured.

My heart began to beat faster when he knelt in front of me, parted my legs and let his hand inch up my inner thigh to my damp center. In feigned mortification, I tried to close my legs and reached out to stay his hand. He looked at me and smiled wickedly.

"I'll see you tonight then," he said. I watched him gather up his coat and hat. He paused at the door about to say something, but apparently changed his mind, turned abruptly, closing the door behind him. Allowing time for him to get down the stairs and out of the house, I flew to the window and watched as he climbed into his buggy and rode away from the house.

I sat there gazing out the window, thinking of him and recalling the rumors I had recently heard concerning his first wife. Talking in polite ladylike whispers, the good Christian women folk in town gossiped that less than a year after their marriage, Robert had caught his wife with another man. In a fit of rage, he had severely beaten her lover and sent her packing, eventually divorcing her. The men folk however saw it differently; his first wife deserved what she had gotten. To their envious male eyes, Robert was generally well liked, and had remained alone because he was just a mean, crazy bastard who used women, enjoyed sex and had enough money to afford either or both whenever he wanted. More power to him, if he had decided to remarry and had picked a sweet, pretty, young thing to train.

*****

I felt myself being pulled from a warm, safe sleep, coming to half awareness when he pulled back the bedcovers and I felt the coolness of the air against my skin. He undressed and bent over me smelling of alcohol, tobacco and whores. It became hard to breath, as he covered me with the weight of his naked body. He roughly fondled my breasts before letting his hand drop down and finger me. The friction, the pressure as he rubbed over my swollen, exposed private area was continuous. I stiffened initially then relaxed as he continued to pleasure me, slowly coaxing my legs open wider. Feeling myself succumb to his attentions, I searched his face questioningly, as my arms reached up, encircled his neck and tongued his mouth.

"You're a greedy little slut, aren't you Cassie?" he said laughing aloud.

He rolled his hard, warm, body off mine and stood up. With seemingly little effort, he lifted me off the bed. "Wrap your legs around my waist," he instructed. Carrying me, he walked across the room and sat down in an armless chair. I leaned forward as he lifted then lowered my small bottom so I slid onto his enormous swollen penis.

"Now, ride me, bitch," he said, his voice heavy with lust.

"Robert, I don't want to do this . . . please," I whimpered against his neck.

"You remember what happens when I have to repeat myself, don't you, Cassie?" he said with an implied threat in his tone.

With his words ringing in my ears and the thought of his belt or hand across my bare behind, I began to slide ever so hesitantly up and down his thick member. Obviously aroused by my reluctance, he reclined further against the back of the chair and with each upward lift and downward thrust, I could feel myself being stretched and the growing friction of the rub and pull against that special place between my legs. As the heat ignited and started to build, he pumped faster and harder, all the while growing bigger inside me. I instinctively began grinding against him until I shamefully experienced a hard, wrenching wave of pleasure wash over me. Surprised by the intense sensations I clung to him tighter, weeping against his neck, my hips still swaying and humping, wanting to wring the last bit of pleasure from him; just like the little whore he said I was.

As my breathing slowed, he began stroking into me again. With each deep thrust, I felt the hard, full length of his penis, and just as he was about to ejaculate he pulled out and thin threads of white shot into the air, droplets falling and landing like pearls on my breasts.

*****

To Robert, I was a warm body; pretty, well mannered, reasonably educated but above all very young, obedient and sexually available to him. He wanted sex constantly and said it was his responsibility as my husband to teach me to please him. He kept assuring me that I would want him to do these things to me and enjoy them and that my primary "wifely duty" was to accommodate his desires and needs.

I think what made his treatment of me so hard to understand is that I grew up in a loving, close family but somehow I had married a man who was emotionally distant, and determined to exercise physical and sexual control of me. My relationship with Robert was so foreign to what I had expected. I could never have imagined Daddy treating Momma so callously or my brothers being demanding brutes with their wives. So why was Robert this way toward me?

In the beginning, I wanted to love Robert, to be a good wife to him, but he made it very difficult, rebuffing my attempts at emotional closeness and intimacy on the one hand, but wanting me sexually, whether with my consent or without it. He could have sexual relations with any number of women, willing women. I was hurt and emotionally overwhelmed when I finally understood and accepted; he didn't love me.

My heart screamed, "This is not a marriage, leave him, go home." But I couldn't.

I remember a few months after our wedding, I was so troubled, I did attempt to talk to Momma, to tell her what he was doing to me. As soon as I broached the subject, I could see the look of shock on her face. Her repeated admonitions for me to "do what my husband wanted," only deepened my apprehension and depression. I so wanted to believe that if I would just let him have his way that everything would work out for the best. I never mentioned it to her again. I didn't blame her, her relationship with Daddy could never have been like this. I would have seen some cracks in their marriage, if it had, wouldn't I? Anyway, I doubted Momma could ever have imagined what my emotional and sexual existence with Robert was like.

*****

A significant turning point for me was the morning Janine was helping me after I had gotten out of my bath. I stood there naked, dripping water, about to wrap a towel around me when I felt Janine gingerly touch my hip.

"Did Mr. Robert do that?"

I looked at her puzzled and asked, "Do what Janine?"

She looked into my face and saw I had no idea to what she was referring. "Did he put that bruise on you?"

I looked down and for the first time saw a bruise, vaguely resembling a hand forming high up on my right hip. It took a moment, and then I remembered how it must have happened.

"Did he do that, Miss Cassie?"

I felt a hot flush rising up my face and I lowered my head so Janine wouldn't see. In a barely audible voice, with tears of shame starting to brim and fall, I told her how the bruising had happened.

"Last night, Robert was stretched out on the bed and made me sit on top of him straddling his middle. After I got on top of him like he told me to, he slipped his thing inside me. He put his hands on each hip and held me in place as he moved in and out of me. It seemed to go on forever Janine, and the whole time, I could feel him getting bigger inside me, filling me. When he was about to finish he pulled me closer to him, pushed into me real hard and held onto me so tight I couldn't move. I guess that's when he must have left that bruise on my hip."

She shook her head disgustedly and finally said. "He's a man, sometimes careless and just think'n about what they want."

Janine got up, but said nothing as she helped me into a thick Turkish bathrobe and began drying my hair. Looking at me with sad, concerned eyes, she said, "Honey, even though you a married lady now, you ain't no woman yet . . . you still but a child yourself, ain't you? Mr. Robert, he's your husband sure nuff, but that don't mean he always knows what's right for him or for you. Mr. Robert is way too wrapped up in hisself, old hurts, and I think he's too scared to let hisself care about anyone."

"And just how would you know that, Janine?"

"You probably didn't know this, but a long time ago, I worked for the Graftons."

"When you were born your Momma asked me to come and work for her. She'd raised your older brothers and then all of a sudden here comes a precious little girl baby, and she was fit to be tied thinking she needed help. I worked for your family, but always kept in contact with the Graftons. Before Mrs. Grafton died, I would sometimes go over, help her out a little, and keep her company. When Mr. Robert's marriage fell apart, I helped him get straight again."

I stood there, speechless by what she had just said. For the briefest moment, an image of Robert coming out of Janine's room very early one morning flashed through my mind and just as quickly faded.

"You knew Robert before? Why hadn't you said anything Janine?" I asked.

"Because that was in the past and not important," she replied without looking at me.

"Mr. Robert is a good man, Miss Cassie and I hope he comes to his senses. He's changed some from when I knew him, I think it was because of her, his first wife. He loved her and she hurt him something terrible."

"I know you've had a hard time and he's treated you bad," she continued, "I told him you were a good girl and I tried talking to Mr. Robert about what he's doing and warned him if he didn't stop, you'd end up leaving him. I told him you were a sweet girl from a good family and he couldn't keep treating you like one of his whores."

I turned and walked to the balcony window, silently watched the dogs scampering about in the yard.

"Janine," I said hesitantly, measuring my words, "he frightens me. I know it angers him when I don't give myself to him and so I try to do as he wishes. I try very hard not to fight him anymore when he comes into my bedroom at night, like Momma said, I let him do what he wants. I say nothing when early in the morning he wakes rock hard and wants relief. I try to go to him willingly when he sits in his chair and pulls me between his legs. It's humiliating to know that the things he does with me, wants to do with me, are things he's done with his whores."

"Baby, you don't have to fight him. He can be a bastard, but Mr. Robert would never intentionally hurt you, even with everything that's happened between you. I think you know that. In his own way, he does care about you, Miss Cassie, it's hard for him to show it. Just be with him, let him teach you to enjoy him as much as he obviously enjoys you.

"Oh my god, Janine, I don't know what's happening to me or how I'm supposed to feel. He's a horrible man, but I think I've come to like his touch, to want his hands on me. It's just that each time he uses me like that, each time he makes me have that special feeling between my legs, my dislike of him grows."

I sank into the chair at my dressing table, embarrassed by all I had said, but now needing to say more. I turned to Janine and continued, "You know, the first time he made me feel that warm wave of pleasure flow through me, it was unexpected, frightening and wonderful. I didn't understand what was happening to me, but I knew I wanted it to happen again, but even more, I wanted him to treat me as if I mattered to him. "

*****

Robert had been in his room working and, as the hour grew late, he came into my bedroom as I prepared for bed. Seated at my large mirrored dressing table, he stood behind me and slipped the thin, yellow ribbons that secured my nightgown off my shoulders allowing the top of the gown to fall and gather in soft folds about my waist. My high, full breasts were exposed, my chest rising and falling with anticipation. Reaching around me, he teased my nipples until they were hard and pointed, almost brown in color.

"Open your legs and touch yourself, Cassie, I want to watch you pleasure yourself in the mirror." I looked up at him with pleading eyes silently asking him not to make me do this.

"Do it now, Cassie."

Resigned, I pulled up the hem of my nightgown, spread my legs wider and began lightly touching, caressing myself with my right hand. He clasped my left hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it as he stared intently at our reflections. I could feel his growing hardness pressed against my back as he watched my center became swollen and wet with excitement. I let the pressure against my pearl increase, and as if from outside of myself I could hear my moans and whimpering. My head lolled backward against his chest and I squeezed his hand and cried out when a hot orgasm flooded through me. I sat there exhausted, my face covered in a light sheen of sweat.

He kissed my neck and shoulders voicing his approval, "That was very nice, Cassie, I enjoyed that little exhibition." Still holding my left hand, Robert guided me to the floor and positioned me on my knees and coming behind me on his knees pushed inside my wet, sensitive core and began thrusting into me. I began to moan and push back against him wanting him deeper inside me. I was on the verge of another orgasm when he stiffened, and ejaculated, mouthing 'fuck, fuck, fuck,' until he was spent and I was sated, in the afterglow of my orgasm.

*****

The feeling of dislike and anger toward him and myself for enjoying what he had made me do the night before lingered. I spent the afternoon wandering about the large old house unable to stop thinking about the previous night. Even now, I felt used and humiliated at how he had finished with me, abruptly throwing on his robe and leaving the room, leaving me alone.

I made up my mind to leave Robert. My intent was to get home, though I had no money or transportation, I made up my mind to walk if I had to. I hurried through town and once on the main road, tried to be as inconspicuous as possible whenever a wagon or rider would pass. By late afternoon, I had encountered one or two people on the road who offered me rides, but I was too afraid to accept, to involve them. Tired, thirsty and hungry I stopped back from the road and sat down to rest under a tree, closing my eyes for just a minute.

I started awake to someone roughly shaking me, calling my name. I opened my eyes to see Robert bending over me. At first, I thought I saw a flicker of relief on his face, but it quickly changed to anger when he realized I was unharmed.

"Get up and get in the buggy! I should beat the hell out of you right here!" he said sternly.

By the time we reached the house, he had fallen into a morose silence. He told me to go upstairs but this time directed me to his room and not mine. He followed me up the stairs and, lighting up a thin, strong smelling cheroot, ordered me to undress. I did as I was told and stood there in front of him naked and shamed. He came toward me and reaching out his hand undid my hair so it hung in thick, chestnut waves down my back and over my shoulders, barely covering the hardening nipples of each breast. He stood so close my nipples brushed against his shirtfront. Robert let his fingers comb through my tangled hair as he inhaled the faint scent of jasmine that wafted from my loose hair.

With an effort, he took a step back, lifted my chin making me look at him. "Jimmy came to my office and told me he had passed you on the road . . . walking . . . Damn it, girl, what the hell were you thinking? Do you know what could have happened to you out there alone on this road?" he said, almost sounding concerned.

All the while he stood there berating me, I could see him becoming aroused, the bulge growing between his legs. He reached out and I flinched thinking he was about to strike me, instead, he pushed me roughly onto the bed and I went sprawling on my back, legs opening wide and whorishly. I quickly sat up and watched him as he undid his trousers and pulled himself free.

Taking me by my ankles, he dragged me across the bed so that I was on my back and my behind at the edge of the bed. Bending my legs at the knees, he spread them open. Positioning himself between my legs, he began rubbing and teasing my private with his engorged cock. I blushed with embarrassment as my hips began to sway slowly at first, and then with increasing urgency and desperation as I fell into rhythm with him.

"Stroke it, Cassie," he said. It began to grow thicker and harder as I held and caressed him, until he brushed my hand away and, with a deep, sigh, thrust into me. As he had once taken my virginity, he now took my will. My legs opened wider and encircled his waist. With his mouth next to my ear, I heard him whisper my name, "Oh, Cassie, Cassie." His long, thick cock buried inside me, he pulled me on top of him and holding my hips in his large hands, he thrust upward to get the most pleasure as he moved in and out, rubbing, grinding, his cock pulsing inside me. He rolled me unto my back so I was trapped beneath him and, with a loud, grunt, he buried himself in me as deep as he could. With a final painful thrust, he spilt his seed into me. I held him, wanting to give him everything, but knowing I was nothing to him, a body, a warm receptacle for him to use . . . I accepted this.

*****

The next several weeks were very busy, Robert with the farm and other businesses and I in planning a big party to celebrate my parents' upcoming wedding anniversary. Janine and I, along with a few of Momma's friends, had beautifully decorated my parent's main house with paper streamers and flowers from Momma's garden. The party was a great success. My parents were obviously happy and genuinely in love after forty years of marriage. To my surprise throughout the evening, Robert displayed a consideration and affection toward me that I had not felt before.

Robert was magnificent in his tuxedo, a very handsome and desirable man at thirty-six. Tall at 6'1", firm tight muscular body, rugged, strong face, the deepest blue eyes I'd ever seen, and a thick head of dark brown hair flecked with gray.

My best friend Johanna was there with her new husband Philip Earle. Johanna and Philip were currently residing in Houston, Texas where Philip practiced law.

The best surprise of all was seeing Jack. It was so good to see him. When I realized how vehemently jealous of Jack, Robert was, I put some distance between Jack and me, and I hadn't seen or talked to in a very long while. Of course, Robert saw Jack and questioned me about his being there, but to his credit he managed to behave civilly. The party lasted until well after midnight. Rather than make the long ride home, Robert and I eventually said our good nights, and adjourned to bed in one of the guest rooms and were quickly asleep.