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I woke up with a swimming nausea and that feeling of dread. Something bad happened last night. Dread. Something really bad. Pieces started coming together and I almost started to cry as the memories assembled hazily.
Fruity cocktails, shots, a huge beer. My friend, Sarah, and I got kicked out of the bar for being obnoxious. The Uber was 17 minutes away, fuck that.
It’s not that far, I can totally drive.
Ugh, I remember puking before I got in the car. Probably a little in the car, too.
Sobering up a little – I am driving and probably shouldn’t be. Heart pounding a little — I need to get to Sarah’s house so we can sleep it off. Just a couple of miles.
The music is so loud. Please, turn it down. Come on.
She’s singing so loudly, practically screaming. She loves this song.
No, I can’t think. I have to concentrate. I reach over to turn it off. She has the goddam radio hooked up to her Bluetooth on her phone.
Where’s the fucking button?
Oh my God…we rear-ended that guy.
Sickening, confusing, jarring crunch.
My friend, shouting hysterically. Just shut the fuck up.
No, no, no, no, no…I literally shook my head trying to will what happened next away…
A big, angry man. I hit his truck, smashed my front end, put a big dent in his back fender.
Was I hurt? Who knows, I can’t feel a thing. I start to cry.
He was so pissed at me, and I couldn’t hide how drunk we were. His anger turned sneeringly amused. We must have looked like hell. Bleary-eyed, crying, messy hair, clothes disheveled from sloppy dancing at the bar.
He’s opening the door and dragging me out violently. Calling me names, awful names. Going to call the police. Jail. Stupid bitch.
Please, please can we work this out?
Sneering…what do you have to offer?
Confused, I don’t know…
What happened next? It’s even blurrier after.
The cab of his truck, my skirt is off, my panties down, my ass in the air. I am choking on his cock. He takes turns smacking my ass and fingering my pussy.
I just have to finish and then we can go.
The door is open, my ass and pussy exposed to the air, his hand roaming over me as I bob my head up and down on his cock…he yanks me up by the hair
Cums all over my face
Which is when my husband steps up to the car.
Oh my God, Sarah had called him. She didn’t know what else to do. He was nearby, got there within 10 minutes. Saw everything.
Sobbing in the car, my shirt barely covering my pussy. Where was my skirt?
Dropping Sarah off, she was crying too.
He didn’t say anything.
Oh my God, oh my God… I raced to the bathroom in time to dry heave. Nothing was left inside of me.
I stayed in my room all day. After puking I looked in the mirror and recoiled. His cum was still on my face, my makeup smeared, my hair had puke in it. I cried in the shower and scrubbed my skin, shampooed three times. Threw my disgusting shirt into the hamper and put on my cuddliest sweat pants and sweater. The sheets smelled. I threw them in the hamper and put the hamper in the hall. Dropped back into bed with a blanket wrapped tightly around me. Where was he? How could I face my husband again?
It was late in the evening when I finally ventured out.
He xslot was in the kitchen, with his coat and shoes on, like he was about to go out. But he was sitting at the table, writing in a note book.
“I’m so sorry,” I said from the doorway, tears already coming.
I had startled him and he looked up, his face blank.
After a moment, he said, “I’m leaving.”
I swallowed hard. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to Mike’s cabin for a couple of weeks.”
My stomach dropped. “Honey, can we please talk?”
“Not now,” he said firmly but calmly.
“Please, baby — just for a few minutes?”
He looked at me and I saw a flare of anger. “I’ve got nothing to say to you right now, Becca. Trust me, if I did it wouldn’t make you feel any better.”
Tears fell. “When are you coming back?”
“I’ll be back in a couple of weeks. I put some thoughts down in a letter that you can read and think over. I don’t want to hear from you. I’ll call you when I’m back. We’ll figure out what we’re going to do then,” he said.
He stood up and for the first time I noticed his duffel bag was packed.
Desperately, I rushed over to him, “Can I please have a hug?” I begged.
The flat look was back on his face, dead. “It would just be fake,” he said and walked out the door.
*****
It took two days for the hangover to go away. And it took all of those two days to work up the nerve to read his letter. I went to work on Monday and the normality of it made me feel a little better. Sitting in the empty house wondering if my drunken fuck-up had ruined my marriage had been killing me. I got home and worked out, then took a hot shower. I made some tea and forced myself to eat a piece of toast. I hadn’t eaten more than a few bites since it happened.
I sat at the table and sighed. I grabbed the notebook he’d left there.
Becca,
If it was just last night, I might somehow be able to move on. But it’s not. You’ve been disrespecting our marriage, and shitting all over me for the last two years. I know you think our life is boring and maybe you think you could have done better. But it’s cowardly of you to stay and treat me like you do rather than leaving. And it’s cowardly of me to let you.
I can’t imagine I’ll get over this. I can’t imagine we’ll be able to move on. But if there’s any chance at all for us, then everything will have to change. When I got the call from Sarah all I could think about was how much danger you were in, and I was so afraid for you. When I arrived, I can’t begin to describe the humiliation and rage I felt at what I saw. I thought you had some decency.
I am going to spend the next few weeks thinking about whether or not there’s any point in trying. I’ll let you know when I get back if I want a divorce. If you want a divorce, just move out by the time I’m back — I will not fight it. If I think we can try again, be prepared for a completely different marriage.
Todd
I lowered my head and swallowed the painful lump in my throat. He was right. It wasn’t just that night. But I didn’t even think he’d noticed. He seemed so content, he never complained. Was I bitchy sometimes? Yes. Pouty and depressed? Absolutely. Did I find our life boring? Agonizingly so. Did I think I could have done better? Well, no…but xslot Giriş part of me wondered if I should have just stayed single.
We’d been married a little over 3 years. I loved him, but there had never been a lot of passion and it got worse almost immediately. I ceased to find him attractive and he was not assertive in bed so we rarely had sex. I resented it. I wanted to be desired, even when I didn’t want him. I wanted to go out and have fun, but he was such a homebody. He let me go, wanted me to be happy. I never cheated on him…
…depending on what you consider cheating. I drank a lot. I flirted. I sometimes exchanged phone numbers and sexy texts. Never fucked anyone.
I was a coward.
And I realized now, too late, that I loved him. He was a good man, a selfish man who sacrificed a lot just to try to make me happy. I hadn’t even tried to make him happy.
I deserved him to leave me, but I hoped desperately that he wouldn’t.
*****
Saturday — two weeks from the morning after the incident. I hadn’t heard a word from Todd and hadn’t tried to call, respecting his wishes.
In the two weeks I’d done nothing but work, work out, clean the house and watch television. I ignored my party friends completely. I’d dressed in the most conservative clothes I owned, not wanting any of the attention I’d so craved before. The admiring looks, the conversations laced with innuendo. I didn’t even watch porn or masturbate — a daily habit previously. None of that was what I wanted. I wanted my husband’s arms around me.
I wondered if he’d call me today. Would he have me served with divorce papers? Would he want to go to counseling? Would he make me wait? For how long? Would he torture me?
But Todd wasn’t like that. Not even when he had the right to be. It was barely noon when I heard a knock at the door. Wrinkled brow, but heart full of hope I ran downstairs. If it was him, why would he knock?
But it was him.
My face must have betrayed all of my hope. He looked calm but resolved.
“Why did you knock?” was all I could think to say.
He shrugged. “I haven’t been here for two weeks. Figured it was the polite thing to do.”
I reached to him but he put his hands up.
“We need to talk.” He said.
I gulped but nodded, backing up to let him in.
“Let’s sit at the table,” he suggested, taking a seat.
“What did you think of my letter?” he began the moment I sat down across from him.
I paused, looking down at my folded hands. “I thought it was fair,” I said.
“Fair?” he asked, his eyebrow raising. “How so?”
I told him how I’d been thinking about my behavior, how I’d been lashing out, been selfish. How I appreciated his patience and love and that I wanted to make it work.
I was encouraged that he didn’t seem angry by what I’d said — and by how intently he listened.
“So you agree that some things have to change?” he asked
“Of course, Todd. The drinking, it’s got to stop. The partying. Being…unpleasant around you. I need to try harder –“
“Yes, good,” he cut me off. “That’s a start. But this dynamic between us has to change.”
“What do you mean by dynamic?”
“You being the queen bitch, doing whatever the hell you want, treating me like I don’t mean shit, xslot Güncel Giriş ordering me around. I don’t know why I put up with it as long as I did.”
I didn’t exactly know where he was headed, but I agreed, “Yes, Todd – you’re right.”
He looked at my thoughtfully.
“If you really believe that, Becca…”
“I do!” I exclaimed.
He put his hand up to silence me. “I can’t just move on.”
“What can I do?” I asked tearfully.
“You don’t know how much you hurt me,” he said huskily. My heart ached looking at him. My big, strong husband, his beautiful green eyes misted with tears, his jaw clenched as he tried to keep his composure.
“I’m so sorry,” I choked out.
“I need you to feel it,” he whispered.
“I do!” I promised.
“No, Becca. I need you to feel it.” He said slowly, looking into my eyes for the first time in weeks.
Something about his tone and demeanor made me hesitate.
“What do you mean?” I asked, visions of him fucking another woman in front of me starting to rise.
“I need to punish you,” he said
“Okay,” I said slowly. “How?”
He paused. “48 hours of punishment. You will do exactly what you’re told without hesitation for 48 hours. It will cause you embarrassment, anger, and pain. You may end up hating me. But it’s what I need to forgive you,” he said coldly.
I looked at him, “Well, what kind of punishment, exactly?” I asked, confused and feeling nervous.
He looked me in the eye, “Well the punishment must fit the crime. It will be mostly sexual,” he said with steel.
My heart started pounding. “What the hell does that mean?” I blurted out.
“I’m going to humiliate and punish you sexually. I will not cause permanent physical harm. You can expect marks and bruises, but only on your ass, pussy, and tits.”
I flinched at the word “tits” — he knows I hate it. “Well, like you’re going to hit me?” I asked, an edge creeping into my voice.
He pushed back from the table, “I’ve told you all I’m going to tell you. If you accept your punishment, it begins immediately. If you don’t, I leave immediately.”
I felt anguished. What on earth did he have in mind? Was he seriously going to beat me? After a moment, “If I say yes, but then change my mind what happens?”
He anticipated the question, “Then it stops. And I leave.” He said simply.
I gazed at the table, thinking. In a way this could be a good solution. If it would make it easier for him to forgive me, I could handle being ordered around and — I guess spanked? — for a couple of days. It would certainly be worth it to get him back. And maybe it would help things going forward…
I met his eyes, “Okay. I have to try.” I said.
I saw him relax. It made me feel better. He wanted me to say yes. He wanted to make it work! I smiled a small smile at him. He looked at me with almost tenderness for a split second,
“Okay, Becca. Before we begin, I’m going to say that I’m only doing this because I still love you. But it might not feel that way throughout the punishment. I’m telling you that now, and you know how hard it is for me to say that I love you after all you’ve done. But I’m telling you it so that you know no matter what happens, that I love you.”
I felt exhilarated by his words, but also a sense of real alarm. What in the world did he have in mind?
I nodded, “Thank you. I love you too, baby.” I said softly, my eyes brimmed with tears.
One more beat passed between us and then he nodded decisively. “Okay, let’s get started.”
Part 2
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