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From: Bookman <readebks@wolfenet.COM>
Subject: RP: Spamhater Decoded: The Blackmailed Wife 2--02
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(Note: I am not the author; I am only the decoder.

If you are the author, please email me.  I'd like to get your name
re-attached to your work.

There are two separate stories called "Blackmailed Wife".  I will
be reposting both of them, as BM1 and BM2.  See Subject line.)



                              BlkmWife.zip -- 2/8

                              The Blackmailed Wife
                                   Chapter 2

      With an unexplainable, cold resentment welling up into her
conscious
mind, Betty Ballard, carefully, replaced the telephone in its cradle,
breaking
the connection.

      It was all she could do to remain politely civil to Jay's new
secretary,
who had just called to tell her that her husband wouldn't be home...
until
late, again!

      Betty hadn't met the new girl, Friday, yet, but intuitively she
knew that
she must be young... and pretty.  Unbidden, a nagging suspicion rocketed
around
inside her brain.  Could Jay be taking her... out to dinner... and... 
She
shied away from completing the thought; it was too threatening... to
her... to
her marriage!

      Sighing disconsolately, she looked at the two prime steaks she was
marinating and had planned to serve for dinner that evening.  There was
nothing
to do but put them back in the refrigerator to cook for the next day. 
Since
she'd be eating alone, again, something simple was in order, so back
into the
fridge went the steaks.

     ... Of course, she had known, when she married Jay Ballard, that
his work,
as a private investigator, would keep him away from home... some of the
time,
but lately, it seemed that most-if not all-of his evenings had been
spent away
from home.  He'd told her it had been necessary... that the case he was
working
on, involving a night-club singer's murder kept him going to various
clubs,
shadowing the suspect, gathering information on him... and finally
getting
evidence and a motive that led to his arrest. There had been a big
splash in
the newspapers and on TV about the case, but there had been no mention
of Jay's
work on it.  Betty wondered about that.

      Jay had explained it to her.  "Actually... I don't want that kind
of
publicity.  I'd rather let the police take the credit... so I can
work... in
the background!"

      "It seems unfair..."

      "Maybe... but it's like being an undercover agent... you don't
want too
many people to know who you are..." he went on. "Anyway... I get my
fee... and
that keeps the world going around for us!"

      "... But you're away so much... at night..."  It was a plaintive
plea.

      "Hell... that's part of the job!  You knew that... when we got
married!"
he barked.

      She hadn't wanted to start an argument over it, again, so she
backed away
from it.  Anyway, the skirmishes had been going on... ever since they'd
gotten
married, two years ago.

      Jay was older than she was... quite a lot older, really.  He was
thirty-six, a few day before their wedding... and she had been about six
weeks
short of twenty; however, nothing would change her mind about marrying
him. She
had been sure that their difference in ages would never be a real
problem.

      Well... she had been mistaken.  Jay had been a bachelor for too
long to
be domesticated easily.  His habits, his working schedule and his
attitudes
were too deeply ingrained, and Betty, in her naivete had thought she
could
change him.

      It was sheer foolishness, she had found out... especially when she
had
had to face the reality that Jay could-and probably did-on occasion, hop
into
bed with some other woman.  She remembered her disbelief... that first
time,
when she had become suspicious of him.  Her husband had denied it... but
there
was the evidence: Lipstick... the dark hairs on his jacket... but even
more
damning, when she found them the next day in his car... was the
diaphanous
bra... and the sheer, nylon panties!  He lied to her.  She was sure of
it...
when he had told her, blandly, that it only seemed to look damaging.  It
had
all been a part of his work!

      Fervently, she had wanted to believe him, and in a way, she did;
after
all, she loved her husband, hating what he was doing to make a living
and not
wanting these things, he explained so easily, to come between them.  In
the
end, he always ended up taking her to bed and making passionate love to
her.
Jay was a virile, potent man... and if he were engaging in some
clandestine,
extra-marital sex... it sure didn't affect his desire for her.

      In a way, that was the trouble.  He was almost more than she could
handle... as far as sex went.  It seemed he was always wanting it...
wanting to
make love to her... sometimes at the oddest times...

      Unbidden, her luminous China-blue eyes brimmed over with tears,
remembering how it had been just two nights ago.  Ever since they had
been
married, Jay had been trying to make love to her in ways that seemed
unnatural... even perverted to her, but she hadn't reached the point,
yet of
letting him do some of those revolting things.  Then, as she had thought
about
it, she had decided...  If I'm going to keep my husband... keep him from
straying... I'd better learn to... d-do... some of those far-out things!

      She tossed her long, golden blonde hair back over her shoulders,
using
her hand to brush some of the stray hairs back as she went about getting
her
lonely meal ready.

      Gulping down his dinner, that evening, two nights ago, Jay had
rushed
off, telling her that he had a good lead on some new evidence.  It was a
currently hot case he was working on, and his interest in it was
intense.

     ... But, it was when he had arrived back home, at three in the
morning,
that she remembered most painfully.  She had heard him park the car, in
the
carport; glancing at the bedside clock, she had noted the time.  It was
an
ungodly hour.  Somehow she resented it.  Why can't he work at an
eight-to-five
job... like most other people do...?  It was her strait-laced,
conformingly
structured mind at work.

      As Jay came into the bedroom, the reeking fumes of alcohol
preceded him.
He was drunk, again.  Betty sat up in bed and snapped on the bedside
lamp, her
deep-seated feelings of resentment rising even higher in her.  He reeled
over
to the side of the bed and flopped down on the edge.

      "Hello, darlin'... I'm home!" he smiled, crookedly.

      "It's about time!" she said, coldly.  "It's after three in the
morning."

      "Sure... I know what time it is!... And you ought to be glad to
see me! I
got it all wrapped up... tonight!"

      "Why don't you tell me about it... in the morning... when you're
sober!"
Betty suggested, stretching out again, and pulling up the sheet.

      "Hey!  You don't get it... Baby!  I got something to celebrate
about!" He
reached out for her, roughly, to take her into his arms.  "... And I'm
going to
wind up the celebration... with you!"

      "No... please!  Wait Jay... until later!"

      Instantly, his anger boiled over.  "Like hell... I'll wait! I came
home
to you... like a good husband... and I'll be damned... if I'll be put
off"  He
hauled her up to him, forcefully slamming his mouth down on hers, like
some
savage animal, his tongue splaying her lips, as it shot into her mouth,
exploringly, tasting and savoring the sweetness of her mouth.

      ... But, Betty was having none of that... at that horrible hour of
the
morning and with her husband in such a drunken state. She tried to
writhe away
from him, to escape his mauling hands on her body and his plundering
tongue in
her mouth.

      Finally, she could twist her head away, breaking the unwanted
kiss, and
pleaded with him.  "Darling... Jay, darling... please... wait...?"

      Her husband had pinned her to the bed.  She was helpless. His
hands were
all over her, at first he pulled the sheet from her, then her filmy
nightgown.
She was stark naked, on the bed... but still she resisted him, stoutly,
as he
clutched and squeezed at her soft, sensitive flesh, his fingers digging,
cruelly, into the pliant mounds of her full-orbed breasts.  He was like
a
madman... and she didn't know how to cope with him.

      Then, as she had watched in helpless horror, Jay had pulled off
his own
clothing, stripping himself naked in a matter of moments... and she saw
his
fully erect penis, standing out, rampantly, from his hairy loins; it was
throbbing, hotly, with his sudden, furiously insane passion.  She knew
then
that there was no escaping him.  He would take her by force... make her
do
it... with him... whether she wanted to, or not.  My God!  My own
h-husband...
is going to r-rape me!

      Jay dropped his weight down on his wife's cringing body, wrenching
her
fear-trembling thighs apart and pressing the white, lusciously tapering
columns
back against her breasts.  He was breathing hard, and animal-like
grunting
sounds came from deep in his throat.

      Desperately, she begged him, further.  "OOoohh, Jay...! Please...?
N-Not... this way!  Please... D-Don't d-do it t-to me... like this!"

      "Not this way... my way... or any other God damned way... I
suppose... if
you had your way about it... isn't that right...?" he growled.

      "No... th-that's not... t-true..."

      "Bull crap!  You just don't like sex... and that's what keeps me
the most
frustrated son-of-a-bitch I know!" he spat, his handsome face a leering
mask of
lust, as he added, "Christ!  I was getting laid more... when I was
single!"

      Wedging his hips between her lovely thighs, he snaked his hand
down
between them to grasp the pulsating shaft of his massively hardened
cock.
Abruptly, she felt the smooth, blunt head of his penis, as he used it to
spread
the soft, tender flesh of her cuntal opening.  Then, crudely, he drew
the
bulbous head up through her unprepared furrow, to find her tiny
clitoris,
hidden in its fleshy folds at the top of her female slit.

      "Oh, God... Jay... why are you d-doing this t-to me...?" she
sobbed.

      He had laughed a hard, cruel laugh.  "Because... Mrs. Ballard...
I've got
a God damned right to fuck you!  You've turned me off... with so many
damned
excuses... that I'm fed up... right up to my eye-balls!"

      Rubbing the satin-smooth head of his cock against her clitoris,
savagely,
sending little, jolting spasms of unwanted arousal through her and
reveling in
his debasement of his lovely wife, he went on, "And, now... I'm going to
fuck
the hell out of you... for the last time, maybe... but Baby... you'll
know
you've been fucked!"

      Betty tried to make sense out of his drunken, coarse language...
and the
message that came over to her was: He's thinking about... l-leaving
m-me!

      "Jay!  Oh, Jay... darling... you know I-I love you!  I couldn't
stand
t-to... lose you!"

      "It's getting pretty damned late... to be worrying about that
isn't
it...?" he spat out, thickly.

      Then, with drunken, unfocusing eyes, her husband had looked down
at her
wide-splayed loins, placed the lust-inflated head of his cock at her
vaginal
opening and lunged into her with all his strength, to drive his aching
prick
deep into the softness of her cringing, unready cuntal passage.

      "AAAAaaaaaauuuuuooooohhhhhh!" she had cried out in pain, as his
impaling
shaft had gored deep into her tender belly.  She felt as if some
medieval
instrument of torture had been poked into her... after having been
heated to
flesh-searing temperature.

      It seemed to her that his plundering cock had torn into her,
scraping the
tender walls of her vagina raw... and she could feel the abraded flesh
of her
cuntal sheath as it was squeezed and pulled, desperately, around and
ahead of
the throbbing, bulbous head of it.  It was horrible for her... and all
she
could think was: It's Jay... my husband... d-doing it!  But, she
couldn't
believe it!

      With a desperation, born of fear, she attempted to squirm her hips
down
and away from the impaling shaft of his lust-filled prick... but there
was no
escaping it.  He kept pushing deeper and deeper, forcing it into the
warm,
unreceptive depths of her vagina, rolling waves of her tender flesh
before his
rampaging cock.

      Lying there, helplessly dominated, under her husband, Jay, she
shed tears
of pain, shock, humiliation, feeling as if she had been split in two, by
the
forcefully brutal entry.  Worse, though, she wasn't able to understand
his
horrible reasoning... an insane reasoning that had led him to this
unnecessary
and cruel rape.

      "Oh, God... Jay!" she groaned, as he had pressed her thighs back
even
farther and began to grind into her with animal-like, netting thrusts. 
"Take
it... ea-easy...!  Please... d-don't h-hurt me... any more...!"  Oh,
God...
Why...?  Why?  WHY?

      In Jay's drunken, alcoholic daze, he was in no mood for
gentleness, as
she lay under him, completely helpless... defenseless against his
merciless
ravishment.  He pounded his huge thick cock into her with pulverizing
force,
while his hands roughly kneaded and dug into the softly resilient flesh
of her
breasts.  She knew, without doubt, that his cruel hands were bruising
the
tender breast-flesh, and she whimpered in pain, beneath him.

      Unmercifully, he thrust in and out of her now moistening cuntal
sheath,
paying absolutely no attention ho her wailing tears and pathetic
pleadings,
skewering her even harder to raise additional whimpers of pain with
every
goring in-thrust.

      Then, up inside of her, she felt it; it was the kindling warmth of
sexual
arousal, and she found herself attempting to move her hips up against
him,
wanting his plunging cock, now.  She was sore, her delicate tissues,
inside her
vaginal passage burning with the abrasions of his abrupt entry into her
unprepared cuntal sheath.  It hurt beyond reason... but still she felt
suddenly
afire with a great keening sensation that was growing with building
pressure to
an ecstatic sensuality.  It seemed as though she could feel every
hardened
ridge of his ferally throbbing shaft... and it was getting bigger and
bigger,
expanding and pulsing deep inside her belly with every ramming stroke.

      Her whole mind and body concentrated on it then.  All she could
think of
was its enormity and the rapture it gave her, as he rampaged deep into
her, his
hardened cock seeming to soar high up into her, filling her completely
with its
potently turgid massiveness.

      Betty couldn't believe that it could happen... lying beneath her
husband... being forced, against her will-raped was the right word, she
had
decided-and being brought to the heights of rapture by it.  God!  It was
building... building... and she knew it could happen...

      But it didn't!

      Suddenly, Jay stopped.  He held himself rigid and immobile over
her, his
face contorted with a mask of pure lust as his expanding cock spewed
forth its
liquid cargo of hot, white sperm. She felt the jerking motion deep up
inside
her as his ejaculation pumped wildly to splash his cum deep up into her
now
hotly accepting vaginal passage.

      "Oh, God... Jay... darling!" she wailed desperately. "Don't...
st-top...
now!"

      She had squirmed her throbbing pussy up against him as she lay
helplessly
frustrated under her husband, trying to re-establish the lost rhythm...
to
regain the ramming potency of his hard cock deep up inside her.  Then,
she was
clutching at him, as she realized that he had cum to his orgasm... and
that now
his hard tumescence would disappear... leaving his cock a flaccid,
useless-to
her-tube of softened male flesh.

      "Darling... Darling... p-please... keep it up... a-and..."

      "AAaauugh!"  he grunted, concerned only with his own satisfaction,
as he
reveled in the ecstatic sensations of his spewing cock.

      Then, her husband collapsed on top of her.  He was relaxed,
satiated, and
no sooner had his head lowered to the pillow than he drifted off to
sleep, his
hardened shaft of flesh, sunk deeply in her needful cuntal passage
becoming
rapidly detumescent... and there was nothing for Betty Ballard. 
Nothing!

      Squirming from beneath Jay's sleep-deadened body, she rolled over
to her
side of the bed, shedding hot tears of real sexual frustration. 
OOoooh!  I was
getting... s-so close!

      She lay there, wide-eyed, miserable, her abdomen blood-swollen and
aroused, attempting to sort out her thoughts, but her mind whirled in
chaotic
disorganization.  She was unable to pin down anything important...
except that
she knew now that everything in her marriage would come tumbling down. 
H-He
threatened... t-to leave m-me...

      Finally, after hours, it seemed, she slept fitfully, awakening
once at
daybreak to pull the sheet up over her snoring husband.

      At mid-morning, when Jay finally got out of bed, showered and came
into
the kitchen where Betty was seated drinking a third cup of coffee, he
was a
different man... from the maniac, who only a few hours earlier had raped
her,
unmercifully.

      "Good morning, darling," he said rather sheepishly, "I guess I
really got
a snoot full... last night..."

      Betty looked up at her husband, unsmilingly, "You were drunker...
than
I've ever seen you!"

      "I don't even remember driving home..." he said.  "Lucky I didn't
have an
accident... or something..."

      She looked up at him, disbelieving.  "Y-You don't remember...?"

      "No... I can't seem to remember anything... after about two on the
morning... everything else is blacked out!"

      "Then... you were drunker... even than I thought...!"  My God! 
Then...
he doesn't remember... wh-what he d-did to m-me...!  She stared at him,
not
knowing what to say... or even to think.

      "What's wrong... Betty?" Jay asked.

      "N-Nothing... nothing at all...!" she said, covering up her
astonishment.
"What would you like to have for breakfast?"

      "Some tomato juice... to start off with."

      She had to believe it.  He doesn't remember...!

      But there is some truth... even in the words of a drunken man... 
And...
he inferred... h-he was going to leave me...! But, maybe now... I've got
another chance... t-to be... the kind of... loving wife... he w-wants
me... to
be!


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