Enough Is Enough

Carla had shared her thoughts about her life with Mike before he took control. She described a relationship a lot like his and Brandy's. It got Bob thinking about how his behavior could be looked at. His wife misunderstood him, just like he misunderstood her. Then he thought about how he could change, how his marriage could change and if it would be worth it.

By eleven he was back in the suite. The sheets were fresh, the room smelled clean and the odor of fucking was gone. Bob showered, shaved and put on a robe. Carla was not coming to his room to check out his wardrobe. At precisely midnight he heard a knock on his door.

He opened it, expecting Carla in another great sexy dress. His big welcoming grin disappeared instantly. Carla was there... and so was another man. They walked in and Carla said, "Hi Bob. This is Mario. He needs a shower and I promised he could use your shower. He needs to shower before he goes home, otherwise his wife will smell me on him and that wouldn't be good."

Bob pointed to the bathroom and said, "Ok. The shower's in there."

Mario smiled and said, "I need the shower after I fuck Carla, not before. Have a seat. I love being watched."

Mild mannered Bob sat down, his mind spinning. They expected him to watch them fuck? In seconds Mario and Carla were naked and she was sucking his cock. It was long and his skin tanned all over. Bob noticed he was rock hard before Carla had sucked Mario for ten seconds. He watched and they put on an exhibition of fucking for him. Mario spoke to him as they fucked. Carla spoke to him as well. It was the hottest thing he had ever witnessed.

When Mario came he came in Carla's mouth. Bob watched as Mario's load shot the inch from the end of his cock into her open mouth. None escaped. When he stopped shooting she stood up and kissed Mario. She gave him his load back. She pushed him back onto the bed and hovered above him, letting the last of his own cum drip from her mouth to his.

"Are you watching, Bob? He loves the taste of his own cum. I love the taste too. Come here, Bob. We have a gift for you."

Bob stood and walked to the bed. Carla grabbed his head in her hands and kissed him. Her cum coated tongue invaded his mouth and he tasted the cum of another man for the first time. As they kissed a hand wrapped around his cock and stroked him slowly.

The kiss ended and Bob looked down. Mario was holding his cock! Carla said, "Honey, you don't have time! Get your shower and get home to Marsha. Next time Bob's in town you two can get together." Reluctantly Mario let Bob's cock go and got off the bed. He took another look as he went into the bathroom. Carla waved and he was gone.

Carla replaced Mario's hand on Bob's cock. "Did you like our little surprise?" She asked.

"It was a surprise. I liked it. It gets me thinking."

Bob moved her on the bed until her legs were tucked behind her shoulders and her cunt open wide. He knelt with his cock at her entrance and slowly pushed inside. Carla urged him on.

"Mario will be coming out of the bathroom in a minute. Show him how great a fuck you are. Be deep inside my cunt! Master me! Dominate me! Fuck me!"

Mario heard them and he came out, buttoning his shirt. He stopped and watched as Bob slammed into Carla. They moved an inch with each thrust. As he watched Carla's feet hit the headboard and stopped them from sliding further. Bob continued to slam into her.

Bob held her legs as he punished her cunt, his body pounding against hers, bruising her and bruising him as well. Thought was gone, it was animal fucking. Bob made noises as he pumped into her. No words, just grunts and groans. His hips moved as a blur and in one stroke he pulled back far enough he pulled out of Carla and when he pistoned forward his cock aligned with her ass and he slammed in! She screamed in pain and surprise. Bob felt like the skin had been torn off his cock. All movement stopped and he felt his balls unload.

Carla felt him unload too. Through the pain of being suddenly ass fucked she felt him unloading into her. She couldn't move. Her legs were still pinned behind her shoulders and his hands held them. His upper body weight pressed down on her legs.

It took a concentrated effort for Carla to speak. She finally got the words out, "You've got to move."

Bob heard her. He pulled back and watched as his cock came out of Carla. He noticed a tiny bit of blood, not nearly as much as he thought he'd see if the skin tore off his cock. The blood was Carla's. When he was all the way out he said, "I'm sorry. I hurt you." He said it softly.

Carla untangled herself and got Bob down on the bed beside her. She kissed his face a few times and said, "That was the best fuck of two thousand and eight! Don't apologize for making me bleed a drop or two. Honey, that was incredible!"

When they looked Mario was gone. Neither of them knew when he left. They stayed in bed the rest of the night, being tender with each other. Bob promised he'd be back soon and that he'd call Carla before he came to Vegas. She promised that Mike would share her with him and comp him a room again.

In the long drive back to L.A. Bob thought about Carla a lot. He also thought about his wife and the next step of his plan.

Brandy was at work when Bob got home. The trash cans were full, dirty dishes in the sink and the bedroom was a mess. The entire house smelled like sex. Bob went through the house opening all the windows. He discovered that Brandy had used the guest room bed, too. He started the wash, did the dishes and took out the trash after he checked the recording of what happened at home while he was gone.

Connor Estridge had been there twice, in the master bedroom. He was an energetic fucker. He used two positions with Brandy, missionary and doggy and he used them often.

The guest bedroom was used with a different man. Younger, taller than Connor. He got sucked and fucked three times while Bob was out of town. Bob put a new disc into the machine and put the recorded disc into a safe place so he could edit it later.

When Brandy came home she found the house restored to clean and orderly. She changed from work clothes to sweats without even looking for Bob. Bob wasn't home. He was at the store. He bought plenty of food and supplies so he wouldn't need to come back for a few days. He loaded some things into a cheap ice chest he bought and filled it with ice.

Back at home he came in through the back door and started loading his purchases into the kitchen cabinets and fridge. Some of the things he bought stayed in the car. Brandy came into the kitchen and said, "Thanks for cleaning up."

Bob noticed how she was dressed and how she didn't even say welcome home. She did thank him for cleaning up. In his mind he said, "Enough is enough." Out loud he asked, "Would you rather have chicken fajitas or some pasta?"

"Fajitas, but not too spicy." She turned and left the kitchen. He put the five bags of groceries away and made dinner. When it was ready he went to their bathroom and got two small pills from a prescription bottle. Past experience told him that two pills with dinner and she would be out cold for four hours.

He powdered the pills and mixed them into Brandy's food. He served their dinner and she ate all her dinner and a little more. She had a beer with dinner, too. After she was done she went back to the living room. Bob cleaned up dinner and when the kitchen was clean he found Brandy passed out on the couch.

A fireman's carry got Brandy to the garage and into Bob's car. Two hours later they were in the desert parked on a dirt road. Bob had grown up in the desert where he had taken Brandy. He knew he could stay there for days without being disturbed.

He got two lawn chairs out of the trunk and set them up. He undressed Brandy and got her nude body into one of the chairs. He poured lighter fluid on her clothes and watched them burn about thirty feet from the car. He put the keys to the car under a rock near the back tire of the car.

He checked the time and knew Brandy was asleep. The pills had worn off. He took a small bottle of water from the ice chest, took a good drink and poured a little on Brandy's tits.

She jerked awake and slapped at the tiny stream of cold water hitting her chest.

"What the fuck!" She yelled. Bob smiled and stopped pouring. He took another drink and sat down. Brandy sputtered, "Where am I? Where are my clothes? What the fuck is going on?"

"I wanted to have a talk with you, so we took a drive out here." He spoke quietly, calmly.

"I want my clothes!"

"You'll have your clothes, later."

"I want my clothes now and I want to go home."

Bob pointed to a distant light. It was at least a mile away. "Under that light is a pay phone. If you have fifty cents you can make a call from there. Between here and there is a mile of rocks, sand, cactus, thorns, lizards and snakes. From the light to the nearest town is eighteen miles. The sweats you were wearing are gone forever."

"I demand you take me to me clothes and take me home." She screamed.

Bob spoke calmly. He said, "If you use the word demand again I will hit you. I have never hit you before, but the days of you demanding anything from me are over. We are here to have a talk. We aren't going anywhere until we have that conversation."

"I can take you! I'll just slap the shit out of you and take the car, leaving your sorry ass out here alone."

"I don't have the keys to the car on me. Slap the shit out of me and you're still out here in the desert, bare assed, bare foot and shit out of luck."

She fumed and stayed in the chair. Bob was a patient man. No cars came by, no planes flew over. He sipped from the water bottle.

"Ok. If having a talk is so damned important to you, talk." She folded her arms across her chest and crossed her legs. The expression on her face reminded Bob of someone who had just sucked on a lemon.

"Ok. I've made some big mistakes in our marriage. I'm not exactly sure what all of them were, but I've learned enough to start correcting them. Mistake one, I'm too easy going. I avoided any kind of conflict. I can see now that isn't a good thing. Two, when our baby died we never talked about it, never did anything together to heal from the hurt. We should have. You made decisions about us and you changed your behavior towards me unilaterally. I still have no idea why. I didn't press you about it, not because I didn't care, but because I didn't want to add to the pain I thought you were experiencing. That too, was a mistake on my part."

Bob paused, hoping Brandy would say something. She didn't. She could have told him that she married him because the guy who knocked her up took off when she told him she was pregnant. She could have told him she wanted to divorce him after the baby died but he was so nice to her, took such good care of her that she stayed. She changed her style of dress because she didn't want to have sex with him. He didn't turn her on. She got turned on by forceful men. He was too nice. She didn't say anything.

Bob continued. "As time went on I saw you taking less and less care of the house, our stuff and yourself. I took up the slack. I didn't talk to you about it. Anytime I started to, you reacted negatively and I allowed that to push me away."

"You're a wimp! I push you away because I can. Remember what I told you I want for our anniversary? I meant it!"

"You want to be fucked senseless? Remember what I promised? I said I'd see what I could do." Bob got up and went to the other side of the car. He came back carrying a cot. Made of aluminum and green webbed fabric it was strong and light. He dropped it on the ground a foot from Brandy. He started undressing.

"Get on the cot, Brandy, or stand up and bend over, you're about to be fucked senseless."

"I don't want you to fuck me! I want a man to fuck me! A real man!" She was screaming.

Bob finished undressing, except for his shoes. He took the three steps to Brandy and jerked her to her feet. She tried to hit him and he slapped her across the tits. She screamed and fell back into the chair.

"Get on your back on the damned cot!"

She glared up at him and thought about grabbing is cock and ripping it off. He hit her across the face.

"Harm me and you'll die out here. The buzzards will pick your bones clean. Are you going to fight me all the way or are you getting the idea the wimp is gone and I'm in charge?"

"You're still a wimp!"

"Probably, but I'm learning fast. The wimp of a week ago would never had hit you. He loved you the way he had been taught to love a woman, a wife. You wanted a forceful man, one who would take what he wanted. The wimp wanted you to give him what he needed. A mismatched pair if one ever existed. You now have a choice before you, get your ass on that bed and open your legs for me or fight me and get left in the desert."

"You won't do it! You're a wimp who grew balls for a minute! The minute is over."

Bob sat down and took off his shoes. He pulled on his boxers and then his pants.

"See," she said. "You've wimped out again."

Bob pulled his shirt on and put his shoes back on. He folded the chair and put it in the back seat of the car. He said, "The weather forecast for this area says that by nine this morning it will be a hundred degrees. By three this afternoon it will be near one-twenty. There is no shade for at least ten miles. You have no shoes, no clothes and no sunscreen. You're so pale that I can see the veins in your tits. By ten you'll be bright red. By noon your skin will be so painful you'll fall down on the burning hot sand and by three you'll be dead. Before dark the animals will have eaten most of the skin off your body. All because you won't fuck me. You fuck Connor. He doesn't love you, but he treats you like a whore. No, that's wrong. Whores get paid. For Connor, you're just a slut. For Eric, you're a whore. Did the young guy who shot his load up your ass yesterday pay you? Are you his slut or his whore?"

"You know?"

"I was a wimp, not stupid. Before I go, tell me why you'll spread your legs for them and not me? You might like the new me. I don't care if you cum. I don't care if you enjoy fucking me. I just want to fuck you senseless once before the divorce. You can have all the fucking you want. What you can't have is the wimp back."

"You knew?" She looked bewildered.

"You did everything but fuck them in front of me. Think about what the house looked like when I got home. Think that it could have looked like that or smelled like that if you hadn't been a slut-whore while I was gone? As a matter of fact, you did fuck Connor Estridge in front of me. Then he stood next to your car and you sucked his cock while I watched."

She stood up and moved to the cot. She leaned back until she was on her back, legs spread.

"You look a lot like my wimp husband, but you ain't him. I need a good fuck. Come fuck me, please."

Bob took off his clothes again. He moved to her and as he assumed the position he slapped her pussy. She jumped and yelped. He hit her again and again. When he heard a wet slap he stopped. He shoved his cock inside her and said, "I read somewhere that having your cunt slapped gets you wet. I didn't believe what I read."

"Believe it! Now fuck me!"

He slammed in. The action was hard and fast and then stopped. Bob felt his cum rising and he didn't want to cum yet. He backed out of her and used three fingers to replace his cock. Twisting and jamming into her, he fucked her hard and fast with three fingers. She came and he acted as if he didn't notice.

He gave her orders and she obeyed. "Lift your legs, bitch." "Pinch your own nipples, hard!"

He pulled his fingers out of her and jammed his cock back inside. "Pull your legs up by your face!" She did. Hey were both breathing hard, grunting and making other animal noises. He pulled his wet cock out of her cunt and pushed into her ass. She screamed and he didn't even slow down. When he was all the way in he shoved his fingers into her cunt.

"Oh God! Please stop! You'll kill me!"

His hand twisted, his hips bucked and Brandy passed out. Bob continued to fuck her ass until he was ready to cum. He pulled out and moved so his cock was at her mouth. He opened her mouth and shot his load into her mouth. She gagged on his cum and came back to life. He back away from her and looked at her. She was spitting cum from her mouth and shit had leaked from her ass. She was a mess.

From the trunk of the car Bob got a gallon of water and some soap and washed himself. He used a small towel to get dry and then said, "Have you been fucked senseless?"

"Yes! I'm sore all over! I'll feel that fuck for a week!"

"No, you won't." Bob sat and started redressing. Brandy was still on the cot.

"I won't?"

"No. For you to feel it a week from now two things need to happen and they aren't both going to happen. One of them, maybe, but not both."

"What two things?"

"One, you need to be alive a week from now. Two, you would need not to be fucked again during that week. We haven't determined if you'll still be alive. I guarantee if you are alive you will have been fucked and fucked often between now and then."

"I want to be alive and I want to be fucked often between now and then." She squirmed on the cot. It was nearly sunrise and the temperature was rising.

"If you choose to live it will be by my rules. You'll agree to them now and live them the rest of your life."

"What are they?"

"You will fuck whoever I tell you to fuck, whenever I tell you to fuck them. That's the first rule. Agree?"

"Yes."

"You will never fuck anyone unless I tell you to do so. That includes hand jobs, blow jobs, eating pussy or any other sexual activity."

"I don't eat pussy!"

"You will if I ask you to. You will do whatever sexual activity I ask you to. Agree?"

"Yes." Her answer was almost a whisper.

"Say it louder."

At the top of her lungs she screamed, "I will fuck anyone anywhere you want me to! I will eat pussy or suck cock or anything else you want me to."

"You will keep the house clean, inside. I will keep the outside clean and take care of both cars. I will fix whatever breaks in the house. We will share cooking. When I cook for us, you clean up. When you cook a meal for us, I'll clean up. Agree?"

"Yes!" She yelled. Bob smiled.

"The only days you wear panties are when you're bleeding. You will get rid of any pants you can't take off in less than fifteen seconds. When you are with me you will dress in what I want you to wear. When you are to be with a sex partner you will wear what I tell you to wear. Agree?"

"Why the thing about my pants?"

"Because I might want to fuck you and I shouldn't have to wait. Agree?"

"Yes!" She still yelled, but not as loud.

"Any and all money you make comes to me. Any and all money you want or need comes from me. If Mr. Cameron or any other person gives you money, it comes to me. All of it. Agree?"

"Yes!" She yelled again and again it was not as loud as before.

Bob handed her the half full plastic water bottle and the soap. "Get clean."

She did. By the time she was clean the sun was up. The temperature was rising quickly.

"One last thing. You agree to take very good care of me. While I was in Las Vegas I paid someone to watch me. If something terrible happens to me he'll know and within a few hours you will die. He won't care if you did it. He won't wait to see if the police think you did it. You will just die. My life becomes your responsibility. Your life depends on it. Understand?"

"Yes." She said it with an even tone. She had surrendered.

He handed her a bag from the trunk. She looked inside and found clothes.

"You said my clothes were gone forever."

"The sweats you were wearing at dinner last night are gone. I burned them over there." He pointed to the ashes from the fire. "If you started walking towards the light you would have stopped before you'd gone fifty feet. The ground out here is sharp and hard. Your feet are soft."