Levirate (Google and skittish_butterfly)

Constance hung up the intercom and pressed the button to unlock the building's front security door for her dad to come up. It was about Rory was all he'd said, still using her husband's name like it was some kind of epithet, like even now he couldn't acknowledge she'd married him over the strenuous objections of her father and the High Council of Elders. And even that, just hearing his name in her dad's disdainful voice, was enough that the hot tears threatened to spill down her pale porcelain cheeks yet again, their wet heat scalding her sad green eyes.

Three months since the crash, two months since the last search was called off, one month since the High Council of Elders had petitioned the courts and had her husband declared dead, making her a widow and starting all the legal proceedings about Rory's estate, proceedings Constance didn't give a damn about. She couldn't shake the feeling they had killed him, the Council and her father, so eager to get that certificate declaring him dead so they could start forgetting about how she, one of the faithful, had all but been stolen out from under their noses, out from under their control. Five years of marriage and now he was just gone, with no body, no closure, just an aching, gaping whole in her heart, throbbing anew just from hearing his name again.

The elevator was stately and slow in this swanky old building so even though their apartment -- no, HER apartment, which just sounded so wrong -- was only on the fifth floor, Constance had a good couple minutes to try to straighten up the living room and herself, to pretend everything was ok so her dad would just get his visit over with and leave without making her feel any worse while thinking he was trying to make her feel better.

She grabbed a spare shopping bag and bent her slender legs to crouch and stuff into the bag all the pictures she'd scattered around herself on the floor, the vacation shots of the two of them skiing in Switzerland, their bathing suits in Barbados, the wedding pictures, Rory's adorable first grade picture and his college graduation looking so handsome in his valedictorian robe, the big party when his company had gone public. So many pictures of what she'd lost, and none with her dad in the shot. Obviously none with her mom, whose pictures she kept in a separate special place, a place she'd probably add Rory's pictures to. But not yet. She wasn't ready.

Constance swallowed hard to avoid having to add any more tear-dampened tissues to the pile she swept from her spot in the middle of where the pictures had been strewn. On the mantel she paused to check how her face looked in the small mirror, finger brushing her long silky red hair back over one shoulder the way Rory had always loved so much, not finding it all sexy now but trying to smooth it out so she didn't look like she'd just been sitting in the apartment grieving for the last three months rather than finishing her own senior year in college. Jenny and Mark were emailing her assignments and class notes and she made a vague stab at trying to keep up, but even with her professors allowing for the loss of her husband, it was going to be hard to graduate on time now. She didn't care. After how hard she'd worked just to get to college, to graduate high school against her father's wishes, unlike any woman in their family history according to him, now she couldn't stomach the thought of going back. Rory had been such a part of it, of helping her keep her high school grades up when they'd gotten married, getting her out of her father's house and religious control to make it possible in the first place, urging her to shoot for the state university rather than settle for city college.

Her lips looked pale and it wasn't just the dim light in the darkened room. Constance fumbled in her bag for her lip stick, trying to put a little color back on her face, to pretend she was alive and not half dead, like Rory. He wasn't dead, not fully, just half dead in her mind. They hadn't found him. Only half dead. She applied the lip stick until at least her lips looked a little like her picture on the mantel again, the one Rory had picked so he could look at it every day, the way she'd looked back when she was happy, confident and unexpectedly married to the kind of man she'd never even imagined existed when she was a little girl listening to her dad's plans to marry her off like a business transaction, when he'd planned to marry her off to Rory's awful brother.

Constance stared at her own photo for a bit, and at her reflection in the mirror set above it. She looked nothing like it now, at least in her own eyes, her face pale despite the lipstick, no joy in her eyes. She was wearing an old tshirt and comfortable shorts, nothing like that black dress in the picture Rory had insisted she wear for her first day of college, making her look so independent and free and other things Rory had explained to her without needing words later in bed that day. Another life in that picture, not the one she was living in now, not without Rory. She brushed off his picture, his kind face, so handsome, blond hair and blue eyes shining with life and love for her, his picture in the frame right beside hers.

[img=392x500]https://gs1.wac.edgecastcdn.net/8019B6/data.tumblr.com/tumblr_m9qnviI7q51r0bhwho1_1280.jpg[/img][img=310x500]http://img.spokeo.com/public/900-600/christopher_masterson_2001_02_06.jpg[/img]

The doorbell startled her from her reverie, tore her eyes from her beloved. She'd missed the sound of the elevator doors squeaking open down the hall. Constance crossed the living room's cream-colored carpet, taking no comfort from the plush feel of it against her bare feet. Without even bothering to cheek the peephole she took the door know in her slender fingers, suddenly aware she hadn't worn nail polish now since the morning he'd left for that three day meeting. The door opened with that swishing sound it made as she pulled it open against the resistance of the thick carpet beneath it and she did her best to greet her father with words that could at least charitably be construed as pleasant. "Dad, how nice to s--" The sight of the Council Elder at her dad's right shoulder stifled her greeting. And the sight of Rory's brother at his left shoulder brought a frown to her lips, making clear the lie of her lip stick, that she wasn't happy to see them, not one of them.

http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CKIogGTT5gU/TguBDRjnbYI/AAAAAAAAB2Q/dBzxf-6bJ2Y/s1600/www.he99.blogspot.com+%25284%2529.jpg

Jacob Nielson had woken up earlier then normal that morning, even though he was usually up 0600 that morning he had woken up two hours before his alarm had gone off, unable to sleep because of his excitement. Today was the day that was five years coming, what should have been his so long ago was going to be his by the end of the day. He had of course wanted to claim her two months ago when the council, at his urging, had gotten his treacherous brother Rory declared dead but Constance's father, Joshua, had plead with him for a little bit of time so that his daughter might be allowed to mourn in peace. Two months, he had convinced The Council of Elders, would be good for Constance and would be make what was to come pass a little more smoothly.

Of course Jacob had been annoyed by this, it had taken every ounce of self control in order to keep from storming out of the council chambers in the Temple Office, he had gone along with the particulars of their faith for nearly six years at this point, since he had converted when he and Joshua had first started discussing the particulars of a business deal that was to include his marriage to Constance... a deal that had gone through only for his brother to steal his young bride to be away from him at the last moment as they eloped.

She should have been his and while the business deal had befitted Jacob immensely, the money he had invested from his inheritance making him a very wealthy man, he was not used to loosing out on anything that he desired. Where before he and his brother had been distant but friendly things had changed when Rory married Constance and stole from his older brother. He had not shared a kind word with his brother since that day, saw him rarely, and was more irritated then proud when he heard that his brother had turned his own share of their inheritance into a successful internet start up that had gone public and was making a fair amount of money... though he was more successful in his own investments it was still a source of immense irritation to know that Rory was experiencing any good fortune.

Today that was all going to change, the two month period of morning was up and Jacob was looking forward to what would soon follow.

Awake early then normal Jacob felt he might as well not waste the time, turning and grabbing the red haired young woman in bed next to him, the latest in a string of lovers who had a fair resemblance to Contance, young woman who he had taken a fair amount of pleasure in using and abusing until he just tossed them aside, each and every one of them had been little more then a distraction to help him pass the time and even as he roughly fucked Jessie for the last time Jacob was still looking forward to what would soon be following.

As soon as he was satisfied he was throwing her out, not even giving her time to properly dress before he was pushing her out the door of his private penthouse.

He remembered little of what followed after that, the next few hours passing as little more then a blur as he got ready to see Constance for the first time since the funeral for his brother where she had worked quite hard to avoid him. Without really thinking about it he showered, ate a quick breakfast, and somehow drove to the upscale apartment building where his brother and his soon to be bride had lived. At the apartment he was met by Joshua and the five men who made up the rest of the Elders from the Council, the First Elder, head of the Council approached him with Joshua and Jacob quickly put the proper mask on, that of the happily converted believer rather then the ambitious and sadistic agnostic man that he was.

“Joshua, Elders...” Jacob greeted each with a smile and a handshake, pleased to see that while the Father of the bride might look a little apprehensive the Elders all looked ready for what was to follow. “I am gladdened to see all of you here but I think that we might be better served if it were only Joshua and the First Elder who went up to see Constance, too many people might make her feel as though we are trying to confront her and I wouldn't want her to think there were any hostility.” Oh no, that would follow soon enough and it seemed that the others were in agreement with him.

It had all been planned out in advance and when before long there were before Constance's door, Jacob smiling when he saw her open it, taking pleasure in the fact that she was clearly unhappy to see them. Her own happiness didn't matter right now, she had been given a chance to embrace what had been in store for her but instead she had tried to find a way out of it and in doing so had only delayed the inevitable and made what was coming all the worse.

“I am sorry to drop by unannounced dear but there is something that we must discuss.” Joshua assured his daughter. “Do you mind if we come in?” Of course the question was rhetorical and while he wasn't pushing he took a few steps forward into the apartment, the first Elder and Jacob following.

A few moments awkward silence followed, Joshua clearly a little uncomfortable and the Elder not wanting to be the one to broach the topic but Jacob coughed softly and Joshua spoke again, breaking the silence. “Now Constance, we were all understanding when you married Rory and while we might not have approved of you marrying outside of the faith we didn't want to break the marriage in divorce... but we have to face facts, Rory is gone now and there are certain things that be done...” His voice died off, clearly this was an awkward moment from him and while he knew what he must do he also wasn't sure how to continue with what was coming.

Fortunately the first Elder was more then willing to pick up the slack, his voice soft but his tone confident, a gentle smile on his face as he looked over Constance with hooded eyes. “Your brother in law Jacob has been a member of the faith for six years now, he is a respected member of the community, and has remained active even as your own attendance at services has been less then constant. Now you and your husband failed to have any children, too busy with your studies and his career I suspect, and so there are some formalities that must be observed.”

Before she could speak Joshua was quick to inject a little more. “Constance this has been coming for a little while now, I convinced the Elders to give you two months but this can't be put off any longer.” It was unspoken but he suspected she knew what was at stake for him, one of the Elders was soon to step down and Joshua was a strong candidate to take the position, only the fact that his daughter had married outside of the faith had been holding him back but if she did what she knew was expected of her then she could make up for all of that.

Jacob the entire time was working to keep his face neutral while inside there was nothing but triumph, he was going to have the woman that should have been his and with her would come his brothers wealth... of course he wasn't able to hide his joy completely and his eyes were alight as he looked at Constance, she had to know what was coming next.


(Joshua
First Elder )

Constance couldn't help that old stubborn look on her face as her father took for granted his right to simply barge in to her apartment -- and Rory's of course -- as if it was still her room back home with the family where his word was law and she'd had to live with whatever he decided.

This time was different though. As her eyebrows lowered and her pale cheeks gained the most color they'd felt in months, it wasn't just the futile tantrum of a little girl caught in the trap of her religion, where the man of the house had the final say on everything and where women existed as biblical after thoughts, barely even needing names in most cases -- just Lot's wife and such in most of the Council's favorite Old Testament tales. Her slender hands balled into little rebellious fists at her sides, making Constance feel 16 again and just wanting to study rather than cook and mop and wash her brother's clothes so he could play outside.

But she was a college girl now, no, a college woman and even though she was still caught in the same religion she'd grown up with the resistance in the heat of her green eyes' blazing glare came from the fact she was now 22 and married, so she was no longer subject to her father's whims! Yet still, her father didn't seem to recognize this simple fact, all but marching right past her and ignoring her resolute expression, looking around as if he was about to criticize her for being too busy studying and not careful enough with cleaning and household chores. The Elder walked in too as if his position entitled him to whatever he wanted, and then Rory's smirking older brother followed right behind, disgusting as always in his arrogance especially for a man whose only connection to the faith was a quickie conversion he'd pretended to take seriously just enough for a marriage between them she'd barely managed to avoid. All these men with their religious entitlement traipsing right past her into the living room made Constance slam the door with enough force that old Mrs. Hubbard down the hall would almost certainly complain about "that infernal racket" again at the next tenant's meeting.

Constance fumed, grateful only to be feeling something beside grief, but wishing it was something other than the familiar old rage she'd always had against having been born a girl into her such an Old Testament faith, into a family that took it all so seriously. With her arms crossed defiantly in front of her over her small chest, she rounded on the three of them, ready to inform them this was her house and she was a married woman and needed no man to tell her what to do or what to talk about when, and certainly no business just bursting right in when they pleased like she was 16 with no right to privacy again.

Her dad didn't seem any more interested in her thoughts or feelings than he ever had when she was growing up. Did he ask, "why are you upset, Constance?" or "Is there something wrong?" No, of course not. He just stood there with his perfectly coiffed gray hair and expensive glasses and that suit of his he always wore even though nobody wore suits anymore, like he was getting ready to issue new demands for her. She'd be damned if she was going to come to his house and continue mopping and cooking like he'd still expected even in her early months of marriage. She had her own life and he could pay for help just like anybody else!

Constance waited for him to speak, through that nervous cough of his that always told her whatever this was it was big, and she slowly backed against the wall, her arms dropping slightly to her sides. The only times she could remember him acting this way were when Mom had finally lost her battle with the coma she'd slipped into years earlier after giving birth to Constance, when Uncle Marcus had gone to prison for tax evasion and been excommunicated, and when her brother's poor grades senior year in high school cost him the football scholarship offer and Constance had been blamed for focusing on her own studies rather than making sure Dan was taken care of. She'd missed a month of school after that, and it had almost cost her own college admission several years later, if it weren't for Rory.

She couldn't imagine what could justify her father acting like this now, no more sick or old relatives could have died, Uncle Marcus still wasn't up for parole for another year, and Dan was married and working for Dad's company and not worried about college or depending on Constance for anything anymore, since he had his own wife to serve him now.

It was the old marriage criticism again, about her marrying Rory who treated her well, rather than Jacob who was clearly such a jerk he would have made her life miserable and only could have married a girl like her because her father had the power to declare that his daughter must marry. He hadn't counted on her finding a better match, another man (another Nielson brother willing to marry her in fact) who would treat her nicely. Constance was already opening her mouth to defend Rory and her own rights as a married woman... except he trailed off awkwardly, mumbling about certain things which had to be done.

Constance's face looked from man to man to man, her Dad's nervous smile, the Elder's resolute expression like a man who was in his element with some religious duty to perform, and Jacob worst of all, looking like he'd just cooked someone else's golden goose and eaten it all himself. "What? What in the name of..." She looked down, old habits returning all to easily in the presence of the men of her family and faith, avoiding even the hint of blasphemy that all so easily crept into her speech at university and with Rory. "What are you talking about?"

It was the old, bald Elder who spoke, starting the explanation like he was delivering his Sunday sermon in that slow raspy voice of his, his eyebrows moving with each word more than his hands even. Constance stifled a derisive laugh as the Elder extolled Jacob's piety -- please, the man who'd squeezed her ass and made such impure comments about her that would have made Mary Magdalene herself blush. She glance at Jacob's annoying face and saw he was eating this up, like he'd lived his life for this moment, which was so odd because Constance knew there was no way that cretin gave one whit what the old Elder thought of him. And yet he'd gone to services enough over the last years to register with the old man.

No children. The elder finally got to the point, and wasn't it always, every time any of the men of the community spoke with her or asked about her, it was always her womb or her broom they cared about. She shook her head, proud of not having children yet even if she felt some sadness there was no one to step into Rory's shoes now, making his loss somehow feel more final with no one to replace him.

"Formalities?" She stepped closer to the Elder, her finger already pointing at his chest and ready to poke and remind him she'd signed every paper when Rory had married her, the contractual obligation to obey her husband, legal powers, how she'd signed every document they'd put in front of her when the court had declared him dead. What more could they expect from her. Formalities!

But it was her dad who took over, sort of stepping between them before Constance could vent her fury at the old man. He spoke of convincing the Elders to give her more time... more time, two months. For what? She looked from Father to Elder, perplexed her slender frame showing how deeply each breath was coming as she struggled to keep calm, her face feeling as red as her hair.

It was almost gleeful look in Jacob's eyes that told her something was up. One to the other she searched the three faces, her dad and the Elder looking at her as if it would have been obvious to her if she had just paid attention in Sunday School instead of gossiping and checking her makeup the way they were sure all young girls did. "What formalities? For Heaven's sakes... Sorry, I mean, just, I've signed everything already, there is no funeral, no kids, not even a will to read. What else could you possibly want from me?"

The Elder opened a bible at the tasseled bookmark and put it in front of her, his gnarled finger pointing at a yellow highlighted passage, looking at her with a stern expression fitting of the Book. Constance read it aloud in a soft bewilder voice that grew softer with each word as the meaning started to come clear to her.

Deuteronomy 25:5-6: "If brethren dwell together, and one of them die, and have no child, the wife of the dead shall not be married abroad unto one not of his kin; her husband's brother shall go in unto her, and take her to him to wife, and perform the duty of a husband's brother unto her."

Click to expand...

Constance looked up from the book at the Elder and her dad, almost sick to her stomach and unable to face the smirk on Rory's brother's face. "You can't be serious. Why, that's ridiculous. That's primitive..." She saw the look in the Elder's eyes and backtracked, "I just mean... that was for marriages like 2000 years ago, when everything was different, not now. You can't just... it doesn't make sense!"

The Elder raised a hand to stop her. "Of course, my dear, of course. Do you think you are the first childless widow of our faith? I've dealt with this before. Don't you believe in a loving God who knows what is best for his beloved creations, even women?" Constance nodded, biting back vitriol to hear him out as her heart pouned in her chest almost too loud for her to hear. "So, of course there is a ritual, a 'formality' to dispense with this. Keep reading child." Constance bristled at being called a child but read more:

Deuteronomy 25:7-10 "But if the man does not wish to take his brother's wife, the brother's wife shall go up to the gate, to the elders, and say, 'My husband's brother has refused to perpetuate his brother's name in Israel he does not wish to perform the obligation of a husband's brother with me.' Then the elders of his city shall call him and speak to him, and he shall stand up and say, 'I do not wish to take her.' Then his brother's wife shall approach him before the eyes of the elders and remove his shoe from his foot. And she shall spit before his face and declare, 'Thus shall be done to the man who will not build up his brother's household! And that family shall be called in Israel 'the household of the one whose shoe has been removed.'"

Click to expand...

Constance looked up from the book with a small smile on her lips as she met Jacob's smirk with her own. All she had to do was basically spit on Jacob? That was the formality? The Elder finished explaining: "You see child, the Lord thinks of everything. You just need to agree,swearing on your husband's soul that you wish to complete this ceremony and we can get it over with and get out of your hair." The old man handed her a well worn 3x5 note card with a handwritten passage on it, clearly worn over time.

Constance scanned it briefly. The words came easily to her as she looked right into Jacob's obnoxious eyes before reciting it with true feelings, thinking of spitting on him as her final parting gift. "Of course, Elder. I solemnly swear on my dead husband's grave to complete this ceremony and obeying all the laws connected to it, so that my husband's memory should remain blessed." She glanced up from the card, certain she'd heard Jacob snort, as if her husband's memory was some kind of joke. "Excuse me, Jacob, but some people take their faith seriously you know! Rory was your brother too, and you should show some respect for his memory. This ceremony involves you too!" Oh boy did it. She just hoped his shoe wouldn't smell too bad. "Now take off that shoe, let me spit on you, and then get out of my life!" The Elder and her dad looked appalled that she spoke to a man with that tone, but it didn't matter. She was a married woman not her father's little girl and this was her house. God loved her too, enough to give her this ceremony, even if she was only a girl.

For Joshua this was an exceptionally awkward exchange, he knew that it was the right thing to do, he knew that it was of course the will of the lord that it be done, but at the same time he knew that his daughter was still grieving and he wanted to find the right words to comfort her. He hadn't been a perfect father, he knew that, but he had tried. After the death of her mother he knew that he had been a little withdrawn, perhaps a part of him had blamed her for what had happened though he had also blamed himself... he wasn't a perfect man and he regretted how things had gone. A grieving single father had not been the best man to raise a daughter but he had tried.

Arranging her marriage to Jacob in the first place had been an attempt to ensure she would have a good life, he had met the young man through some associates a few years before and been impressed by his drive and ambition. Perhaps an arranged marriage was considered unfashionable these days but his own marriage had been arranged through the Faith and though it had not always been perfect they had quickly come to love each other. Rory had perhaps been the more romantic choice but he was gone now... and he wanted to make sure his daughter would be well cared for.



For Jacob this entire experience was taking far too long. It was amazing how he had managed to keep control for so fucking long but now he was so close to getting what was already his but he was having trouble remaining silent for even a moment longer. He heard the First Elder droning on and on, hardly able to keep from yawning as the mans tone always brought the temptation of sleep. Still he focused on Constance and her reaction to what she was reading and hearing, it looked as though she was having a hard time restraining her anger and that made this all the more enjoyable for Jacob. Of course it didn't last, when she finished reading about the ceremony she looked at him, clearly thinking that this would be something downright simple for her and maybe even something that she might enjoy but the look on Jacob's face didn't change even slightly, did she think that he was going to give her up.

He had spoken this over with Joshua and the Elders of course, it had been a long and delicate conversation where he had been careful not to seem too eager for what was coming. He had spoken of the obligation that he felt, the desire to carry on his family line and of course ensure that his beloved but estranged brother's wife was well cared for and was returned to the faith. Oh they had swallowed it all hook line and sinker... a few more moments patience and he would have her all to himself.

Her words though, oh she had a sharp tongue before but now it seemed that young Constance had had sharpened it a great deal, the smirk on Jacob's face quickly twisted into a sneer as his eyes narrowed, how dare she speak to him like that.

Oh she would regret each and every word soon enough, he had been dreaming of how he would make her suffer and this was going to be the day of reckoning for her.

He managed to recover faster then Joshua or the First Elder did, putting on a mask of shock to mark the looks on their faces. “Constance...” He spoke slowly as though recovering from shock when in truth he was just working to restrain his anger for a little while longer. “You have this all wrong. I know that things between my brother and I because a little strained in the past few years and there is nothing that I regret more then that. There is no one in the world who I cared for more then my brother, he has been my only family since my parents died ten years ago...” A moments pause, as though choking up when in truth he was working to keep the act up though it seemed that he had convinced at least two people because both the Elder and Joshua both looked a little bit moved by his words, taken from the shock and awe at the way Constance had spoken to him to a moments sympathy and understanding.

Now was the time, his eyes locked on Constance's own because he wanted to savor every moment of this, wanted her to understand just what trouble she was in. “First Elder, my brother has passed away, leaving behind a wife and no child. In order to ensure the continuation of his line and the well being of his bride I shall take Constance as my wife, and perform the duty of a husband's brother unto her.” The words were archaic and sounded a little odd even though he had practiced them several times to ensure there would be no mistake when the time came but he had spoken them and that was all that would be needed in order to ensure that she would be married to him.

His moment of triumph, the patience of years had payed off and with Constance having agreed to to go through with the ceremony, swearing on his brothers grave in fact, there would be no backing out of it. He couldn't keep the smile from his face, he couldn't hide his joy in that moment, had she not seen this coming?

And of course the complete lack of reaction from Joshua and the Elder made it rather clear they had expected it, in fact the Elder only nodded with a small smile on his face and Joshua looked relived, as though afraid his daughters outburst might have been enough to keep Jacob from going through with what had discussed.

Looking back and forth to their faces, her dad and the First Elder looking completely fooled by Jacob's theatrics, Constance felt utter disgust for Rory's brother. "No! No no no!" Constance stepped toward her father, one gentle hand on his shoulder hoping to elicit some small shred of concern for his daughter even if he'd never really showed it before, at least not in a way she wanted it. "You can't, Daddy, you can't believe him." Why did her voice come out like that, as if she was little again, and calling him Daddy? And would it even work? Would he remember she was his little girl, not some piece of property to sell of to the vilest bidder? "He doesn't care about Rory, he never did, he hated him. He's lying!" Her father had this look of pity on his face, but not a useful pity. More like he pitied her for a lack of faith or something. "Please Daddy, don't listen to his lies."

She turned to the First Elder, her father a lost cause. He was supposed to have the intellect and reason of a judge as well as being ministering clergy, for he led the Council which settled all disputes and adjudicated the requirements of religious law. Despite her growing panic, Constance knew better than to touch the First Elder. She stepped in front of him, making him look her in the eyes, trying to make him see her as a human being and not some biblical possession. "Elder! You can't do this to me. What if Rory is still..." The sad little shake of the old man's head stopped her exploration of that line of thought. "He... You... You can't just come in here and..."

Constance couldn't stop the frustrated, defeated groan that came out, the one so familiar from her many years under her father's thumb, and one she could scarcely remember ever making in this apartment, with Rory. She collapsed back onto the big leather sofa, but not to put her feet on the glass coffee table and read while sipping a nice cup of coffee from the end table. She stared up at the men, one after the other, struggling to believe that these neanderthal mentalities were actually alive and well in this modern age. Looking straight up at Jacob now, her voice soft, sad. "How could you have sprung from the same woman that gave birth to Rory? What would your mother think of you?"

Constance closed her eyes for a moment and prayed silently inside with the same intensity she'd been feeling ever since the night she first heard about Rory. She prayed with every scrap of her intense faith, a faith in God and his love for his People still strong, even if her faith in those people was pretty much puppy poop by now. Yet she prayed with fear too, because after listening to her heart's every whispered, fervent request for five years, sending her Rory and a life and education and independence, it was as if He'd given her all of her life's rewards in one brief burst, and now turned a deaf ear to her every plea.

Constance opened her eyes after a few seconds, a few seconds all God needed to truly hear and understand a heart's pain. She could see Jacob's staring at her. "No, I don't accept this. This is not some stupid wedding ceremony. It's a formality. That's what you said! So let's just get it over with! I demand you let me finish this 'formality'!" Staring straight at Jacob, she made sure she knew, "Rory was better than you, and smarter than you, and kinder than you... and that's what he would have wanted, so if there's even the tiniest scrap of that repulsive heart of yours that really does care about your brother, you'll do this for me." She slipped from the couch, half crawling the three steps to Jacob. She didn't look up at him with the fury she felt in her blazing green eyes. It was his shoe she wanted. Take the shoe. Spit on him or near him or whatever. Get him out of her life. Just do the ritual she'd sworn to do and be done with it. Surely she had some say in this.

Her fingers grasped at his shoe, tugging, untying, all the while intoning, "This is what I do to the man who doesn't deserve me! This is what is done to the man who hates his brother and lies about it!" On and on, growing closer and closer to tears as her frustration mounted, his leg just so big, not able to lift it to get the shoe off, making her arm feel so slender and weak by comparison. "Lift your stupid leg so I can finish the formality you... you.... you asshole! God damn it Jacob, don't do this to me!" She didn't even hear or care if the men gasped at her blasphemy. God would understand, wouldn't he? And so should these mortals, who should have no right to decide her life for her.

Joshua was not happy to see the state that his daughter was in at that moment, clearly she was devastated, still clearly in shock about the loss of her husband. Perhaps it was still to soon to do this, perhaps they should have waited a little while longer. He was not a heartless man after all, he adored his daughter after all but this was really for her own good. A young woman all on her own would be in a great deal of trouble and while Constance might have some very fond memories of her ex husband he knew that Jacob was a good man. As his daughter plead with him he had trouble meeting her eyes, looking away. Perhaps they should have done this another way, perhaps they shouldn't have just sprung this on her... but the Elders had for some reason insisted that they do this in a specific way, that Constance might cause more trouble if she were to know what was coming.



Jacob of course was no fool, he had expected that Constance would try and plead and find some way out of what she had agreed too. He could have just chanced it all on the reputation that he had built in the church but that wasn't his way. Over the past few years he had carefully been gathering information about the Elders, only the First Elder seemed to be as squeaky clean as the followers of the faith expected, the other four all having vices that ranged from embezzling money from the faith to having a fondness for homosexual prostitutes that also supplied him with some less then legal substances. Of course Jacob had been quick to take advantage of the knowledge he had gained, even putting pressure on the embezzling Elder of Finance to announce that he would be stepping down and encouraging the other three that he had dirt on to raise Joshua to that position. Constance had never stood a chance, he had influence over the council of Elders and the Elder of Finance had bought into his conversion hook line and sinker.

He watched with immense pleasure as she tried to beg the First Elder, a true lost cause because the man was a true believer. Jacob had his doubts about others but he knew that the First Elder was a believer to his core, that he felt that the god he believed in wanted women to serve the men in their lives, first their fathers and then their husbands. Constance had failed to obey her father when she married Rory... and because of that she wouldn't be getting much by way of sympathy when it came time for her to make a case about a marriage to Jacob.

But then, she was crawling at him, it was absolute perfection. This is what he had wanted to see for the last six years, he had wanted to see her humiliated, broken and unable to keep control of herself while he stood tall on her. The sight of Constance on her knees was one that he had imagined many times but he hadn't been able to get it just right, this was perfection, this was her proper place.

As she blasphemed he put a shocked look on his face, looking from her to the two men who had come up with him. “First Elder, Joshua... Constance is in shock and doesn't know what she is saying. I beg, please forgive her... if you would permit me a moment alone with my bride I would be greatful.”

For a moment Joshua looked hesitant, starting to take a step forward before the First Elder's hand on his shoulder stopped him. “There will be some paperwork for you to sign later on Jacob and a ceremony to formalize the union but those things can wait until tomorrow.” He smiled, the scene before him uncomfortable and so he chose to ignore it as he looked to Joshua. “Come friend, let us leave them for now so that they can be more acquainted.” He turned, making his way from the apartment and Joshua was right on his heels without a glance back as though looking at his daughter might keep him from leaving.

As the door slowly swung shut behind them Jacob knelt down so that he could look Constance in the eyes. “Five years ago.” He said slowly, gripping her chin roughly and forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Five years ago you were to be mine and yet my brother stole you from me.” He was smiling now, no longer needing to play nice now that the men who had any power to stop things were gone. “But now you belong to me.” An there was an edge in his voice, as though just waiting for her to say the wrong thing, as though waiting for some kind of excuse. “I am going to enjoy each and every moment of what is coming next.”

His breathing was growing heavier now, oh he wanted her, his cock so hard that it was painful and soon it would be painful for her as well. “You can beg me if you like... I would enjoy hearing you beg.” Quickly his hand shifted from her chin to her hair, yanking her head back as he stood again, making sure she was staring at the long bulge that ran down the right leg of his slacks, pulling her against it so that he could feel the warmth of her flesh.

Constance was still on her hands and knees trying to tug Jacob's shoe off to ritually and religiously force him out of her life forever. Her bitter, blaspheming words still hung in the air like a bad smell that just wouldn't go away, yet her recklessness wouldn't have bothered her one bit were it not for Jacob's smug sanctimonious tones. If she offended her father or the First Elder, fine, so be it. Maybe it would wake them up from this stupid farce and remember they were talking about her, Constance, the little girl they'd both known since forever, and not some biblical sacrificial lamb. But Jacob...

She could hear it in his tone of voice even without looking up from his stubborn shoe how he was staking out the religious and moral high ground, as if HE was the one who'd been born into this religion, sacrificed an entire childhood and almost tanked an entire education just to keep a father and brother clothed and fed like it was some holy duty to sacrifice everything for them. What had Jacob ever given to justify him acting so much holier than her, pretending with her father and the elder that he was begging for mercy when they couldn't see he was just MANIPULATING THEM into giving her to him! Constance gave a cry of frustration and pounded her fist into his hard shoe leather and then looked up from the floor as the first elder pulled her father back and the two men, the last men in the world she would ever turn to for help and yet the only two men she had left would could save her, turned to walk away talking about paperwork as if it was more important than her.

"Noooo!!!, nooo! I'm not his bride, don't go, you can't go, please!" She was slumped on the floor watching them go, hitting the shoe that wouldn't come off, the shoe that was supposed to save her, over and over, her small fist having no effect at all. The two men weren't even looking at her. Her own father! Not that she should have any reason to expect anything else from such a rigidly religious man, who probably consulted the good book before calling the First Elder every morning to figure out which shoe to put on first.

Footsteps on soft carpet. Her heart pounding and her own fading protestations as she heard them walking out. The bottom of the door sliding against the carpeting as it closed on the men's receding footsteps out in the hallway. And then the final slam of the door. And silence.

She was alone with Jacob. Alone with that disgusting excuse for a human being, who somehow now had the fantasy firmly planted in his head that she was to be his bride. This had to stop. Constance loved God with all her heart and valued her religion, had made the hard sacrifices all her life to show it was true. So she felt qualified, more qualified than Jacob could ever be, to speak the truth to him, that this was a farce, an ancient ritual gone haywire in the hands of a vile snake with no respect for God or his dead brother, Rory. Rory. Why couldn't he have taken the later flight, why couldn't he be here to put a stop to this. He had always been her shield and protector, keeping religious craziness at a safe enough distance she could live her life and love God at the same time.

The silence seemed to grow louder and louder in her ears with every heartbeat, as she stayed on the floor, afraid to look up at Jacob, as if that would somehow validate his crazed expectations. She pretended he wasn't in the room, that this had never happened, just waiting for him to disappear too, to realize how foolish this all was and leave.

Silence but for the sound of fabric, Jacob's slacks shifting. Constance stared at the floor, aware from the way his shoes bent that he was crouching down, her face reddening even more hotly as she realized he wasn't leaving. The touch of his fingers at her chin, so much like Rory's and yet so utterly different, rough and uncaring, lifted her eyes from the floor. She glared back at him defiantly as he made his little speech, the one he'd probably been hashing over in his head for days or weeks as he hatched this little fantasy plot of his.

She heard him out, how he'd thought she had been his 5 years earlier, how Rory had "stolen" her from him. Her answer was firm and quiet in its resolve, trying to sound like she was so much more controlled emotionally than she really felt. "I was never yours, so no one could steal me from you, do you understand? And Rory was everything you are not, kind and understanding and so much more. I gave myself to him, he didn't take me, get it? I'm not a possession to be argued over, at least not in the real world outside this little religious context you seem to be obsessing over. Let it go, Jacob. I don't belong to you or anyone. My heart only belongs to Rory, and it went down in that plane with him." Her throat closed up, thinking of Rory and couldn't say anymore.

He spoke a little more, a few last words, something about begging him. "Beg you?" She looked at him like he was insane. "If I was going to beg anyone it would be my father and the First Elder, the ones who hold the real power here. You? You're nothing to me. I'll get them to come back, to make you give me your shoe.... Or... Or I'll make them give me a divorce right now, so you could have married me and then it would be over right away! See? You? You don't have any power here. I'll just..." She looked around for her bag on the floor just out of reach against the couch, aiming to get her cell phone and call them back right away.

Only as she forced her face free of his touch under her chin, Jacob's hand slipped up the side of her cheek and next thing she knew she was yelping in pain as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and it really HURT as he pulled on it, forcing her head all the way back and arching her neck uncomfortably just to keep her hair from being ripped out at the roots, or at least that's what it felt like. Her hands instinctively went to his, trying to claw free of his grip as she gasped at his feet. He was making her look up, staring at him as he rose from the crouch, still gripping her. And yes, she could see the shockingly large lump in his pants that he made no effort to politely conceal. Constance was no naive virgin, she'd been married to a loving man for 5 years and knew perfectly well what that was.

She scowled at him, her hands still trying to get a hold of his strong wrist, to push his grip away from her hair. "Let go you... you asshole! You're nothing compared to Rory! He would NEVER treat me like this!" She gave a wicked bitter bark of a laugh, trying to wound him the way he was hurting her. "I would never ma..." He jerked on her hair, cutting her off as he pulled her face against his leg, making her cheek feel that hard bulge pressed against her, making her shriek with disgust. Her hands shifted from their failed attempt to free

Alone with Constance for the first time in five years, he had only seen her a handful of times before they were to be married in the first place and only had a few minutes alone with her before Rory had managed to ruin everything... but now things were going to return to how they were supposed to be. A part of Jacob felt that it was unfortunate that his brother was now gone, he was the only family that Jacob had... but he had stood in the way of what Jacob wanted and it was hard for Jacob not to enjoy the opportunities that the untimely death had brought about. Only an idiot wouldn't take advantage of this, only an idiot failed to act when they had a chance.

It hurt a bit when she clawed at his hand, trying to get free from his grip on her hair but really it didn't matter. The pain was an annoyance and nothing more, Jacob tightened his grip a bit and twisted to make sure she was hurt even more but the incident was filed away, going into the same part of his brain where he had stored her earlier behavior, cursing him, insulting him, and spitting at his feet... each and every thing she had done would just be brought up again while she was suffering, while she was being broken. “Rory was soft with you.” He said slowly, his tone cold as he shifted his hips to grind his covered cock against her face through his slacked, knowing that she would be humiliated by the touch, more important then the physical pleasure was the pleasure that came from knowing the power that he had over her and how little she could do about it.

“Rory was far to gentle with you... I am sure that it was very sweet and enjoyable but compared to what I would have offered it would have been nothing at all.” Pulling her back from his crotch he sneered at her, his tone might have been neutral but the look on his face was a twisted mix of lust and anger, bordering on hatred. “You would have been the perfect trophy wife, my virgin bride who would have learned everything about the pleasures of womanhood at my hand...” He knelt quickly, pushing her head down to the ground next to his feet and holding her there, where she belonged, where she would learn to stay.

Oh he wanted her so bad, he could barely think straight in that moment, every moment near her was driving him wild. She was so fucking gorgeous, even in the comfortable clothing rather then dressed for appearance he still had been struggling to restrain himself from the moment he had entered the apartment, even with her father in the room he had wanted to fuck her like a wild animal, to dominate her, to control her and claim her as his woman.

Releasing her hair his hand pressed down on her shoulder to pin her in place as he shifted, leaning down closer to her, his face just above hers, he wanted to taste her, wanted to devour her. “You should remember Constance, our marriage is to ensure the continuation of the family line... it can only end when you have given birth to my child and that would still require my consent.” She had to remember that, she had to know that her own faith was what would ensure he had her for as long as he wanted her. Unable to help himself, unable to go without tasting her sweet flesh for the first time in over five years, since a stolen kiss in a rare moment alone with her, a moment where he had pulled her small body tight against his and pressed his tongue into her mouth before she had been able to object or even react.

He didn't kiss her just yet though, instead he slowly ran his tongue along her face, from her cheek to her lips, the taste of her making his cock throb painfully. “I am going to fuck you now.” He whispered, his voice tinted with the excitement of the moment. “My brother might have been able to enjoy your body before me but I suspect there is still one virgin hole I can have.” As he spoke his free hand moved down her back, hooking a thumb in her shorts and starting to slowly pull them down her legs, revealing perfectly smooth flesh to him. “I wanted to fuck you ass the moment I saw you...” Oh yes, she didn't deserve to enjoy the experience, if she had behaved then it might have gone differently but since she had chosen to be an annoying cunt he was going to make sure that he was the only one enjoying what was coming.

He shifted carefully, moving along the floor as he continued to lower her shorts, sliding so that he was behind her ass, enjoying the view as well as her struggles.

Constance was struggling like a small animal caught in a bigger stronger trap, but Jacob's painful fist in her hair was too much to free herself from. She couldn't get up, couldn't lift her head or shoulders higher than the vile bulge in his trousers he wouldn't stop grinding her cheek against. His cruel grip left her with nothing but tiny gestures of futility, gasping and cursing at him as she pounded on his shoes and pushed at his lower legs, trying to get herself away from him but only making her scalp hurt even worse.

But it was his words that hurt the most. His mockery of Rory was more than she could take. "Don't you dare talk about Rory like that! Don't you dare speak his name in this house -- in HIS home! He wasn't soft. He was good! Something you would just never understand!" She all but spit the words down at his shoes as he just ground her face against his growing erection even more as his response.

Finally her face was jerked back from the disgusting contact with his third leg, forced to face up to him as his pull in her hair hurt even worse. Ever since she learned about him those years ago, when she'd faced the prospect of being forced to marry him, Constance had formed a deep association in her mind that Jacob was crude, and lewd and uncaring. But seeing his face staring down at her as she twisted in his grip of her hair made it so much worse. She was flinging words back at him even as he was talking, trying to talk over him, to wipe his horrible words out of existence with her own, her voice both pitched high with anger and trembling with emotion, "You're evil! I would never be your wife! You have nothing to teach me! Nothing..."

Her last words were cut off by a squeal of pain as he jerked her face down to the floor at his feet, his pull on her hair rough and demanding and adding to her gasps of dismay. This was her floor, where she walked every day, where she and Rory had made love that first week in their sleeping bags before the beds had arrived. She screamed at the floor in frustration, "No!!!! You can't do this, stop! Stop this you jerk!!! You asshole" With her father and the Elder her anger and frustration started to leak into her words, "Let me go you... you *fucking* asshole!" Her hands flailed but she couldn't barely even tell what they were flailing for with her eyes only able to stare at his shoes and the floor.

She had used that ultimate curse word, the one she'd only used in anger once before in her life and could still remember the taste of the soap it had brought her, and it seemed now as if all of the righteous indignation she'd packed into it had somehow gotten to Jacob because he let go of her hair, just for a second at least. His hand went right to her shoulder, still holding her down, but at least she could bend her neck, look up from the floor, could see him crouching down, her eyes on his knees and feeling the heat of his malevalent gaze burning the back of her head.

Instead of showing he was sobering up from this wild outburst, Jacob seemed to be doubling down on all he'd said, as if he believed this was all somehow... just... like he really meant it all. "No!!!" She yelled it at his knee but her words were aimed right at his heart. "I would never let you... impregnate me!" Even to think of it made her want to vomit. "I... I'll tell the Elder you raped me! I'll have you excommunicated! If they say I'm married to you... I..."

The disgusting feel of something warm and wet along her cheek, like a sweating snake that she knew immediately was Jacob's tongue licking her like a dog. Everything was narrowing down to just her and him and panic as his taunts grew worse, more specific, more threatening and immediate. Constance didn't even think, her hands just pushing at his legs again, trying to struggle free of him. "NO!! You can't!" He was whispering but she screamed her response, clearly the old lady down the hall not wearing her hearing aid or maybe playing her soap opera too loud. "Don't you dare touch me! My body belongs only to my husband! And he would NEVER touch me like that!" She understood all to well what Jacob was hinting at, repulsed by his crude desires.

But his hands were already working their way down her body, tugging at her shorts with one hand while he tried to grip and control her with the other, his body working its way to kneel behind her, like he was going to take her crudely, like a dog. Constance's scream was wordless, a scream to get her moving, to get her away from him. She began scrambling on hands and knees, twisting and squirming from his grip with all the strength she could muster from the Hip Hop abs workouts she'd stopped doing a few sad short months ago, struggling to crawl away from him even as she felt her shorts tugged over her hips taking her panties with them. She believed him, in her heart believing he was every bit as cruel as he sounded, that if she couldn't crawl free to the door and out into the hall to get away, he might well rape her. "Stop!" She tried to slap his hand away, but not stopping her struggle to get away on hands and knees, on the living room carpet now, staring at the door just 10 feet away, knowing her father and the elder weren't coming back at this point. She'd have to save herself from Jacob's cruelty if she didn't want to have to face the council of elders later in utter shame and have to explain what he'd done to her so they would get Jacob out of her life.

All Jacob could really do for a moment was stare at her ass and as she struggled he even got the occasional glimpse of her pussy from between her legs. It was unfortunate that things had turned out this way because he KNEW that Constance would have enjoyed being his bride, oh she might have been nervous, her cold feet and the kindness of his brother causing her to run away from her obligations but she would have been happy if she had gone through with it. He would have ensured she wanted for nothing, jewelry, a large home, and his hard dick stuffed within her tight little cunt as often as was possible. For a moment all the anger was forgotten, as if lost in a trance the hand that had just been yanking down her shorts slowly moved forward, lightly tracing a single finger along the delicate lips he saw, disappointed but not the least bit surprised to find that she was completely dry... but that wouldn't matter as he would soon have her conditioned into the demure little slut of a bride that he desired.

He was brought back to the moment as she finally managed to slap his hand in her struggled, it was a meaningless gesture as he had all the leverage over her and while she might work out to look good he went to the gym at least five days a week... she just didn't have the strength to fight him in a meaningful way. The anger returned though, all in a moments rush and he was seeing red, he hadn't been gentle earlier but he hadn't been trying to hurt her and in an instant that changed.

The hand that had been touching, exploring so carefully suddenly drew back and then snapped forward, up between her legs his open palm slapping against her pussy with a loud smacking sound carrying through the apartment. There was a moments pause, his breath coming faster now, deeper, his body feeling flush with excitement and then the blow was repeated twice more just for the pleasure of it.

“Shut the fuck up!” He barked, uncaring that anyone might hear her, the veneer of civility dropped after she had started to swear at him so enthusiastically. “You don't seem to understand just what situation you are in right now. When you married my brother you signed quite a lot of documents and I suspect you didn't read them very closely. I did read them closely though, I have read them over and over again for the last five years and I suspect I could recite them from memory if I wanted, I even had a lawyer look over them and they would hold up in court. You agreed to uphold the Church traditions in your marriage, you even agreed to take part in a Levirate marriage should anything happen to Rory. As far as the church is concerned you are married to me and a divorce will not even be an option until you give birth to my child.”

Smiling as he spoke, maybe she wouldn't understand what this all meant but he still enjoyed saying it, enjoyed the change to gloat. “You see Constance I can't rape you because you belong to me, if you try and tell the Elders I raped you then they will only remind you that you should be doing your duty on Earth and being fruitful or cleaving to me or some other religious drivel that was cherry picked generations ago to ensure women remained meek and eager to fuck.” No reason to hide it from her, no reason to hide from her the amount of scorn that he had for her faith. Oh he would continue to play that role for a few more years, until he was sure that Constance was to broken to fight or run and then he would sever all ties with the faith. “You are my property, everything that is yours is mine now, even this...” One more slap to her cunt, this time harder before with his hand pressing after the blow.

It wouldn't wait much longer, he needed to fuck her and soon, he needed to finally claim her. Still holding her in place, leaning in to put more weight as she had managed to just claw forward just a few feet and that wouldn't do at all, he fumbled to undo his belt, strange how such a normal motion became so difficult when you were so distracted, He managed to unbuckle it and pull it free just a moment later but in that moment an idea had occurred to him. Why should he bother to fuck her here on the floor, he could easily take her into her bedroom and fuck her on her bed, he could taint so many good memories she must have by taking her roughly in the bed she had shared with his brother.

The pressure on her shoulder was let up for a moment but even as she raised her head he was slipping one side of the belt under her neck and grabbing both ends, pulling it taunt against her throat as he stood up and using it to hold her against his body. “I am going to fuck you...” He whispered as he started to drag her towards the door that he suspected led to the bedroom. “I am going to force my cock deep in your ass and take you again and again... the only time I will touch your cunt is when you are ready to beg just so your ass can have a break.”

Constance had managed to struggle three or four feet toward the door on hands and knees with Jacob still on top of her, but as he got her shorts down the crawling grew even harder and more awkward and it started to seem more like a futile act of defiance than an actual chance to escape him. She was breathing hard from the effort and her bare knees felt raw from how hard she had to work against the carpet to fight his strength holding her back.

But even as her squirming, shuffling motions seemed to be getting her nowhere, each grasp of her hand slapping down onto the same spot of carpet she'd already reached, Jacob made it even worse. His finger felt like warm sandpaper, a gentle yet obnoxious touch right between her legs, slowly tracing the entire length of her now exposed slit before she managed to squirm her abdomen and bend herself around to slap at him, yelping with outrage. "No... no! Stop... I don't belong to you! I don't belong to anyone! I belong to Rory! Don't you dare!" Her words weren't thought out, enraged outbursts of desperation and revulsion as she saw the look in Jacob's eyes staring down at her exposed bottom.

He stopped, but it only made it worse. Constance flinched, her slender slapping hand now weakly trying to fend off what she saw coming but no match for his greater size and leverage and strength. And cruelty. She felt his hand brushing hers aside with ease before doing as he pleased and she cried out even before the blow struck her between the legs, her mind knowing in a flash what her body hadn't even felt yet, how his open palm slapping her that hard would hurt, not just physically, but emotionally too, spiritually, like he was conquering new territory and marking it his.

The blow made her whole body jerk in shock and pain, an instinctive protective gesture as her yelp of pain and the sharp crack of his palm echoed in the modest living room. The hand she'd tried to fend him off with trembled and returned to her front, trying to claw her way across the carpet again, away from his ability to hit her with impunity. Cries of no and stop just sounded like gasps and moans and still she made little progress, and then two more painful slaps right on her exposed lips made her gasp and writhe, drawing her knees up into a protective ball that still left her bottom exposed, collapsing onto her side as her lungs drew the pain in and out in short sharp little cries. The worst was that on her side, looking up at him behind her, it was as if she'd given up, no hope of crawling away like this, her body surrendered and just trying its best to weather whatever Jacob wanted to do to her.

Her eyes were a little blurry as she saw the happy pictures of her and Rory over Jacob's shoulder as he leaned in and rudely yelled at her to shut up. Green eyes flinching and blinking back tears, she went quiet, just gasping softly, wrapping her arms around her legs as she curled up beneath him, staring up at his face as he lectured her on what he thought her new world was to be, the parameters of his ownership, for that was what he was talking about, religiously sanctioned ownership, not marriage. Marriage was what she had with Rory. What Jacob wanted was nothing like that, and yet her own God seemed to demand this of her. Constance felt the pain of that knowledge stabbing her right in the soul, the knowledge that her belief in God's word, her own goodness, had put her in this situation, put her in this man's hands. And it felt just like getting slapped between the legs all over again.

He spoke and she heard even as she cowered on the floor, soft carpet rasping against her naked hip, her shorts and panties tangled around her ankles. Documents she'd signed, believing she was agreeing to something holy, something beautiful, only now being used for this? Lawyers and courts, Jacob spoke as if he had a legal team dedicated to making her life miserable and she could almost believe it except as slimy as lawyers were even they wouldn't stoop as low as Jacob. Would they?

Give birth to his child.

Constance shook her head as those words sank in, a low steady moan of the word no stuck in her throat as she stared up into the cruelty and unholy lust of his gaze. And he was smiling, which made it worse. She shook her head again and again in denial as he talked about the Elders backing him up, that she belonged to him. "noooooo" soft and low and guttural in her throat, like a small animal slowly realizing its caught in a trap. "Nooo. I'm not property, not YOUR property!" Her desperation sparked anew as he spoke of her like some pleasure object that belonged to him, property rather than person, as if he owned a collection of body parts rather than a human woman -- not that he owned a human woman either!

Her sudden outburst was slapped into silence again and she whimpered her pain, body writhing on its side, the carpet digging into her bare hip as she pulled her knees up even tighter, trying to cover herself with her feet but not sure how she could possibly stop him. There was no one to hear her cries. He believed he was entitled to whatever he wanted so there was no talking him out of this. And he was just... too... damned... strong.

The last slap, the one to silence her last objections to this insanity, had been even harder, and she was sure she could feel bright red pain slaring hot between her legs, not sure she'd be able to walk out of here even if he did let her get up and go. He put his weight on her, pressing her down into the carpet, harder than Rory had that first night, and his hands let go, correctly confident there was no way for her to escape as he reached for his belt. Constance shook her head even more frightened by the sight of that, whimpering no and mumbling in pain from the slaps she'd already absorbed, not at all certain why he was taking his belt off but utterly unable to concoct an explanation in her head that was acceptable, that didn't bring the tears brimming in her eyes just short of running down her cheeks.

He moved the belt up her body. She felt it graze her top hip, leather against bare skin as she lay curled on her side beneath him. Then across her shirt, bumping one nipple through her shirt and light bra before reaching her neck. Constance started to panic and one hand left her legs to push at his arm, shaking her head again, mumbling no, but this time a tone more pleading than defiant. "Jacob, don't do this..." Using his name, trying to remind him they were two humans, both God creations. "Think of Rory, what would he say, plea..." Her words were cut off as the belt circled her throat, trapping red hair between leather and bare neck, pulled tight with his arm and all but choking her into silence as he rose above her, dragging her up to hands and knees as she gasped and choked, one hand scrabbling at the belt around her neck, the other holding her up on the carpet along with her knees like a shaky tripod.

Before Constance could try to struggle to her feet he pulled on it, pulling her against him, pulling her up awkwardly to her feet as her shorts and panties around her ankles made it feel almost impossible, and yet to avoid the choking pull of the belt around her throat she managed it, her half bare body pressed against him, feeling his slacks against her bare thighs and pelvis. He spoke of fucking her, crudely, like he was talking to a whore, and the belt around her throat kept her from even shaking her head, to busy trying to get her fingers between the belt and her neck, her other hand pushing at his bicep to no avail as he started walking and dragging her down the hall, her bare feet briefly feeling the cool kitchen tiles as he passed through, and then scrambling after him, tangled in her shorts so taking small steps, stumbling down the wooden hall, passing the door to Rory's office she hadn't been able to open for three months, toward the bathroom and bedroom at the end of the hall.

He kept whispering cruel words of what he would do to her, and the only response she could hear from herself was the gasping effort to breath and keep up with him as she stumbled along with her shorts pulled down. He was going to fuck her. My God no no no, but he was going to do it wasn't he? And she had stopped taking her pills months ago. Did it even matter, given where he said he was going to do it to her? But she knew she couldn't get pregnant, not from a monster like him. They were from two different species and she probably couldn't even conceive from his seed it was so alien to her body, but even if it was physically possible, she couldn't. It would be a repudiation of her marriage to Rory and their love. It would ruin her spirit. And it would make him happy, which she never ever wanted. She would make Jacob miserable if it was the last thing she ever did. And she wouldn't get pregnant, not for him, not for anyone. If she didn't get pregnant for Rory, then she would never get pregnant.

He opened the door to the bedroom and she saw the master bed with the comforters and pillows, right under the window with the view of sunset and the moon she'd shared with Rory, the placid landscapes on the walls, her nightstand with lotions and her novel beside the alarm clock, so familiar, yet from a world she could no longer reach, Rory's own nightstand still exactly as he'd left hit. The carpet matched the living room, and the room was done in off white, with a printed comforter to match. She'd left the walk in closet open, showing the spill of her clothes as she'd not been careful this morning, not expecting guests and not having the energy to keep things as neat as she would have for Rory. But she didn't care, none of her usual embarrassment at the thought of anyone coming into her house without it being clean. Because Jacob wasn't a person, he was a monster. She pushed against him again, punching weakly against his arm as her revulsion rose again, her face red as she gasped for air but focusing on trying to hurt him more than futilely struggling against the belt around her throat.

As he pulled her through the apartment, choking her all the while with the belt around her neck Jacob took his time to examine his surroundings, taking it all in with a great deal of curiosity. The apartment was significantly smaller then his own penthouse but there was something beyond just the size there that he had a hard time putting into words. This place wasn't just a place where someone lived, ate and fucked, this was a home for people who cared for each other. His own penthouse was very large, expensively furnished, to him it was near perfection but compared to this place it felt... sterile. Oh he loved his penthouse, it was a monument to his own success and pleasures but after just a few minutes in here it felt a little bit cold... and an idea occurred to him, a thought that would make her suffer.

“I love your apartment...” He whispered as he finally let go of the belt and gave her a little push towards her bed, the belt still hanging in his left hand like a threat that was moments away from being acted on. “Of course I call it your apartment but right now its essentially mine. I think perhaps I might stay here for a few days, that way we can have our honey moon somewhere that you are already very comfortable.”

Before, oh before she had allowed his brother to get her out of the marriage, Jacob had prepared a honeymoon for her, he had planed to take her to Hawaii for two weeks of fun, sun, and introduction to countless carnal pleasures. Oh she might not have loved him but she would have come to love him, learned to crave him with her every breath. Of course she still would end up learning to love him, it was surprising what time and torment would do to a woman.

Standing between Constance and the door, knowing that she wouldn't be able to get past him and confident that she was smart enough not to fight him when she would just suffer in the attempt, Jacob looked around the room and took in the details. It was so different from his own bedroom, the soft colors no doubt a comfort to her but his own bedroom was wonderfully rich crimson that seemed almost blood red when the sun was allowed through the large windows but without the sunlight, in the dark they seemed nearly black, it was a beautifully sensual effect that offset the similarly colored silk sheets on his bed and the rich hardwood that the furniture was constructed from. “Of course if I am going to stay here then I will need you to clean up a bit, I can't stand that kind of mess.” Of course he was just tormenting her at the moment, a way to make her suffer as he started to unbutton his shirt. Perhaps it was petty cruelty but he had been looking forward to this for quite a while, even when it had been unlikely that he would ever be able to have the sort of power over her that he desired he had dreamed of the day he would be able to make her suffer.

Shirt unbuttoned, chest and abs earned through hard work revealed before the shirt was tossed aside to fall on the floor, more that she could clean up later on. His hand then went to work unbuttoning his slacks, much easier to do with one hand then undoing his belt had been and as he worked he spoke a little more just to torment her. “Of course for the last five years you were the only thing I thought of, I have fucked half a dozen young women, all slim and gorgeous red heads... I broke a few of them.” He was proud, he sounded proud of that, he wanted her to know that he was proud of the fact that others had suffered in her place. “I called them practice...”

Zipper pulled down, slacks allowed to fall and pool on the floor at his feet, he hadn't bothered with underwear that day so his cock stood free in an instant, sticking out from his body in ten inches of thick flesh that he would soon be stuffing into her even as she objected to it. Crouching slightly he reached into the pocket of his fallen pants, pulling out a small bottle of clear and slippery fluid that he held up so she could see it... oh he was cruel but fucking her ass dry held little appeal to him as it would just hurt him as much as it hurt her. The slight comfort that the lube provided her would give him an immense amount of pleasure and still allow him to enjoy her suffering.

Stepping out of his pants he was quick to kick off his shoes and then his socks as he advanced on her, taking his time just to frighten her as she was backed towards the bed. She climbed up onto the bed, no doubt just trying to scramble away from him but in truth she was just making it easier to get a hold of her, the belt dropped on the edge of the bed as he snatched at one of her ankles to pull her to the edge of the bed, her ass just barely resting here at the perfect level for what he would be doing next. “You could close your eyes and pretend this isn't happening.” He pointed out with a smirk as he thumbed open the lube bottle, pouring a generous amount of the thick warming gel over his cock and then another measure poured out over her, down onto her cunt and allowed to slip down, it was tempting to just lean down and take a taste, he had always wondered what she tasted like but there was no way he would be playing nice with her right then and the thought was discarded even as he threw the half emptied bottle of lube over his shoulder.

“But if you do that I will take my belt to your cunt, I will hurt you in ways that you can't imagine... so keep yours eyes on me Constance and think about how much easier it would have been to marry me all those years ago.” Jacob shifted his hips, bent his legs a little bit, grabbing her other ankle in his now free hand, lifting and spreading her wide for him. A smile on his face, this was the moment of triumph, there was nothing that could stop him as he slowly pressed forward, the head of his cock pressing against the perfect little pucker of her ass, rested there for a just a second as he savored the moment, and then he was pushing forward, taking his time as he began to penetrate her ass, robbing her of her last virgin orifice.

Jacob's reaction to her punches, even weak as they were, surprised Constance. He let go of the belt around her neck, or at least released his grip on one end of it so it slipped free to just dangle to the floor in his one hand like an uncoiled whip, leaving her free to breathe and touch at the reddening irritation where the skin of her throat was indented. Her other hand raised to smack him again but he raised his other hand, bigger than hers and his arm longer than hers, and put it right against her chest and shoved her backwards into her bedroom, away from him.

She stumbled on the carpet back toward the bed, looking at his larger frame blocking the door and realized suddenly why he let go. "Let me out!" But he didn't move, just standing there, talking about her apartment, looking at her apartment as if he was moving in, like he was trying to decide where he'd keep his beer bottle collection, which Constance was certain he was the crude kind of man to have. "It's not your apartment! You don't live here, you don't belong here!" She wanted to scream at him, her face as red as if she did, but her voice just came out as a croak, still affected by the choking of the belt.

He ignored her, which infuriated her even more, making her feel powerless, like she was too weak to affect him even with her small punches and even her words made no mark on him. She stood, watching his eyes move around her room, taking in the mess spilling out of the closet, the book shelf with one shelf for Rory's business books, one for his dumb science fiction novels -- one of Rory's only weaknesses that she easily forgave -- one for her text books and one for her good novels. The bed. Hearing the word Honeymoon from that animal's lips while he had the nerve to look on her marriage bed drove her mad and she managed something closer to a scream. "This is no honeymoon! There is no honeymoon you asshole! I don't love you, I hate you. I'll... I'll make your life miserable every second you try to stay married to me! I'll..."

Constance sputtered into frustrated silence as her words had no affect on him except maybe to put that amused smile on his lips. He just started unbuttoning his shirt, slowly revealing abs she knew most girls would be all aflutter over, that even she had to admit were impressive, but that she always tried to think of herself as a girl who saw the heart inside the body, not just the body, and inside his perfectly sculpted chest and abs was a heart that was rotting and decayed, beating only to pump vitriol through his body.

His shirt fluttered to the floor as he tossed it aside with no concern for the cleanliness of her room. She was a grieving widow, or at least was, she wasn't sure what her status was now, but she was grieving, so a little mess in her closet was justified -- what was his excuse! "Pick that up you bastard! This is my room, Rory's room! I am NOT cleaning up your mess, you pig!" And he had the nerve to comment on how she kept things, which despite a little recent fray around the edges had always made Rory very happy.

Jacob started at his pants, still blocking the door, and Constance could feel her pulse accelerating fearfully with each little action he did, his eyes making clear to send a message of his intent. She looked away, looking around the room herself, wishing Rory had some bowling trophies or something big and heavy she could smack him on the head with and run out. She'd probably get in trouble, maybe even get thrown in jail but at least he couldn't rape her in jail. But no, she couldn't go to jail. He'd just make her miserable during a trial and then be waiting to pick her up anyway when she got out. Plus there was nothing she could use. Not even a phone cord to strangle him with, the phone by her bed side being cordless.

The phone. She looked away from it immediately.

He was rambling about having fucked others, as if it would make her jealous. She guffawed out loud to ridicule the idea, only he made it clear that wasn't his purpose and her laugh went silent, her face blanched. Practicing for what he'd do to her. Starting right now. And then his pants were down, one hand tugging them down to free himself while the other still held he belt. As they went down, she got a sight at how he'd broken the other redheads, and her eyes went wide with understanding of how he could have done it. He was huge. Rory's cock was perfect, just the right size for her, just the right shape for her, as if God had formed her husband's sexuality using her own body as the mold so the fit was perfect. God hadn't done that with Jacob, more like he'd just taken a huge slab of rock and chiseled something huge and threatening and attached it to his body. Like Jacob's personality, his cock looked like it was made for abuse, not love.

Constance she realized she was shaking her head no over and over in little motions of denial, not even sure what she was denying but certain in her constricting chest that she should deny it whatever it was. She didn't speak, her throat to afraid to allow words to pass as Jacob eyed her evilly, slowly advancing on her after plucking something from his pants pocket at his feet. She backed away without even thinking until the backs of her legs hit the side of her bed and she fell back to sitting on it, squirming back still away from him, cowering as he came closer to stand over her beside the bed, showing her the little bottle with a wicked grin, his cock seeming to grow larger still.

The belt dropped from his grip on the side of the bed, but it was no relief as it seemed like it was still close at hand if he decided to choke her with it again, or drag her to some new place in the house to taunt and abuse her, or hurt her with it in other ways she was trying hard not to imagine. He reached for her right ankle, his hand so big and unyielding around it as he pulled her to the bed that her little kicks at him had no effect. Her shorts were pulled off now and her naked bottom was right at the edge of the bed and she was staring right up into his eyes from down on her back on the bed.

He didn't let go of her ankle and every few seconds she gave her leg a good jerk to try to twist free from his grip, to make him stop touching her, but it didn't work. He just smirked and threatened, warning her as he dribbled what turned out to be some kind of slippery oil out onto his huge cock. Pretend this wasn't happening. That's exactly what she wanted to do, pretend Rory was still alive, that he was coming to give her flowers and presents from his trip and talk about her feelings while he'd been away.

The feeling of him casually dribbling the same oil between her legs that was all but dripping from his cock made it clear to her that loveable Rory wasn't here, just cruel Jacob. And his words made it clear to her in a way she truly believed that if she didn't look at him, keep her eyes on him as much as she hated whatever he was going to do to her, and acknowledge him with her attention, if she tried to hide herself in a fantasy of Rory, that he would know, and he would beat her in a way even her mind couldn't bear to repeat as she trembled at the thought. The oil started to run very slowly between her legs, down her slit to tickle between her cheeks and she shook her head again lying on the bed, this time making sure he knew she wouldn't, her lips and sensitive parts suddenly alive with the feeling of the oil and the fear of his threat, not wanting him to beat her like that and believing he would.

She tried squirming back from him even though he had one ankle in his powerful grip, but he just grabbed her other ankle in response and spread her like he was making a wish until it almost hurt, pushing her knees back at the side of the chest so she felt like her nakedness was on lewd display for him, but there wasn't a thing she could do about it, even her hands unable to reach him except to reach back to the edge of bed and touch his naked torso as he came closer, but no leverage at all to try to stop him or push him away.

So out of fear, and hatred, Constance kept her eyes on Jacob, blinking back the tears that threatened to betray her, as he bent himself a little. She knew what he was doing, some part of her inside just knowing where his cock would be after his little movement even without seeing it. She stared into his cruel eyes as she felt his huge hard flesh against her slippery oil slicked parts, and she grimaced at the thought of him entering her. She didn't think of being married to him, for it would not have been easier, and because thinking of marriage would make her think of Rory and that would just make her disintegrate.

An anxious animal whimper rose in her throat as she saw his muscular body tense and knew what was coming, only she was wrong. He didn't push into her like Rory ever had. He'd really meant it when he'd said what he planned to do, not just some vile threat to scare her. His huge head dipped lower and she felt him pushing her cheeks apart with his thickness, pushing against her, making her moan and grip the edge of the bed, gnashing her teeth as he pushed and pushed, until inevitably her tightness yielded to his strength with a scream. She felt every inch sliding into her, slowly, like he was making sure she felt every bit of him. Her heart broke and the tears rolled down her cheek as she cried out for Rory. She looked up into Jacob's face as he pushed his painfully thick cock into her bottom, a cruel parody of his brother. She arched and twisted and pushed back against his grip on her ankles and she begged him to stop but nothing did any good, nothing stopped the pain of him penetrating her, pushing himself into her body as painfully as he'd pushed himself into her home and her life. Moaning and gripping the bed cover with small fists bunched up tight against the pain, she kept herself from closing her eyes, from looking away, from denying what he was doing to her, having to accept his cock and his reality and let him see it, her left hand feeling the little edge of the belt lying threateningly beside her hip as his torso finally smacked against her bottom, making it excruciatingly obvious he'd planted his flag full and deep inside her. She sobbed, feeling every inch of him, the girth of his shaft spreading her hole open in a way God never intended, humiliating and hurting her in equal measure.

Her desperate mind spun madly, seeking any way out of this, any way to end the pain

He could see it in her eyes, she hadn't believed that he would go all the way through with what he had threatened her with. Oh he had no doubt that she expected him to fuck her, the fear in her eyes when she had seen the same cock that had ruined and broken so many others was perhaps the most delicious experience of his life. She should have known better then to underestimate him though, of course he was going to try and make her suffer, of course he wanted to cause her an immense amount of pain and humiliate her however he could... a few rough ass fuckings and she would be more then eager for him to fuck her cunt if only for a break from the pain. His experience told him that she wouldn't be able to hold out for too long, that she wouldn't continue to accept his cock in her ass when there would be only a simple thing she needed to do in order to have a much more enjoyable experience.

Even when she begged though, even when she finally had enough and started to beg him, debase herself for a break from the pain... oh he would still be fucking her ass on a regular basis.

From the moment his cock began to enter her he knew that he would never be able to stop fucking her ass, it was absolutely perfect, it was incomparable to anything he had ever experienced. It seemed to cling to him, embracing him as she would soon learn to embrace him if only to gain his favor, wonderfully tight but not so tight that he would leave her torn and ruined just by entering her. “The prefect ass...” He whispered more to himself then for her as he pushed the first few inches into her, hearing her call out the name of his brother but beyond caring at that moment.

He wasn't just smiling, in that moment, the moment where he was finally able to enjoy what he had been craving for five years, it was a moment of elation and he was grinning from ear to ear even as he looked down at the tears rolling down her face, not stopping the patient and steady push until he felt his balls resting against the base of her spine and his thighs pressing against the perfect cheeks of her ass. Ten inches of thick cock were buried in her ass, there was no way that he could be fucking her any deeper and it was everything that he had dreamed it would be. To savor the moment he had to stop right there, giving her just enough to to feel it stretch, to feel his pulse lodged deep within her, to push her ankles back further so that he could get a better look at her stretched and tortured little asshole.

“You call my brothers name.” He mocked her, thrusting his hips a little bit though he was all the way inside of her just to humiliate her a little bit more, just to cause a little more pain. “What you need to understand if that he is the reason you are suffering right now.” Bending forward he pushed her ankles back as well until he had her bent nearly double with quite a lot of his weight bearing down on her body. “If you had just married me like a good little girl then you wouldn't have my cock buried deep in your ass right now, instead you be bouncing up and down on it, eyes rolled back and body practically limp with pleasure.”

It was with the last word that he started to move and fuck her, shifting back down so that he could fuck her properly, a position that was less difficult for her but allowed for him to thrust quickly and with a great deal of strength. Both feet were firmly planted on the ground, his hands were on her ankles and his hips were starting to move. He began to withdraw slowly at first until about half of his cock had been pulled from her ass before thrusting forward with a great deal of strength, hearing the bed rock slightly as he pressed against her and hearing the sounds she made in that moment. For Jacob this was almost like falling in love, the noises she made, the look upon her face, the feeling of her ass... in this moment he began to suspect that this was what love felt like and wanting to feel the the sensation all the stronger he began to fuck her harder and faster.

That wasn't enough though, oh he could hurt her and he would enjoy doing it but he wanted to do more then just cause her some physical pain and humiliation... he wanted to break her emotionally and he knew that since she hated him so much there was only one way to do this. His experience with the others, so similar and build and appearance would be perfect here and he moved her legs together, blocking that wonderful view of her ass but he was able to trap both of her legs against his chest with a single arm and not interfere too much as he fucked her and now his right hand was free to torment her.

He recognized the shirt she wore, one that his brother had worn a few years ago, no doubt a part of her regular wardrobe, something that brought her comfort and that couldn't be allowed to stand. His hand gripped it at the collar, a sudden and quick jerk of it, ripping it down her body and pulling away a massive strip of it until the shirt was only kept on her by its sleeves, revealing some wonderfully perky tits to him that were just begging for a piercing or a rough bruising bite.

That wasn't enough though for him, ruining the shirt was a moments impulse and his hand swiftly moved lower to the cunt that he had so recently been abusing just to cause pain. The female anatomy held no secrets from him and while he knew that every woman was a little different he also knew they tended to have enough in common for him to take full advantage of.

The lube that he had poured out still pooled there, some of it no doubt having slipped inside and making her cunt look utterly delectable, soon it would moisten for him, Jacob swore to himself as he slipped two fingers into her, palm up with his thumb brushing over her clit. He was going to do whatever it took to make her cum, he wasn't just going to rape her ass but he was making sure that she felt some pleasure from it, making sure that he could taint each and every moment of carnal pleasure that his brother had provided, carefully curling his fingers in search of her g-spot while his cock was still thrusting in and out of her ass.

Constance felt the horrible emotions swirling in her chest boil even hotter as Jacob thrust himself painfully deep, his thick shaft hurting her as it stretched her open, and his words wounding what dignity she had left as he whispered about her ass being perfect, like some package of meat in the butcher's section. "As if you have any right to judg...." Her word cut off with a squeal of pain that she clamped off with a bite of her lip at the pain of him in her, fully deep, his body pushing her legs back even harder and making the angle that much more painful and awkward. And her breath that much shorter. Worst of all was the look of joy on his face, like he'd converted to her religion and gone to heaven by sending her to hell. She could see him, looking and staring at the lewd space between them, staring at how he was hurting her, smiling like it was the finest work of art he'd ever seen.

She held the phone in her hand off to the side, trying not to move her arm or draw any attention to it until it would be too late for him to stop her, clinging to it for hope in her head as tightly as her fingers clenched it physically. Jacob thrust, rocking her back on the mattress with a soft complaint from the springs and a whimper from the pain as he tried to drive himself all the way through her. Constance was certain he was so deep he'd come out the other end, in her throat or something, feeling like she had no insides of her own anymore and was just filled with his cock. He mocked her, mocked Rory, and thrust the pain of his cock even deeper, making the humiliation and hatred burn right on the surface, her eyes blazing with the agony of the penetration and revulsion for him.

He bent over her, closer, pushing even harder, folding her up like she was laundry not a person, until she could barely breath and his weight was heavy on her, unable to move, staring up at him helpless, her only hope the phone in her hand waiting for her dad's tinny voice from that distance to tell her he was there and she could cry out to him for help, to come save her. Appalled to depend on that man to save her, hating the fact he would see it as confirmation of what he taught her all the time and she never accepted, that women depend on men, are nothing without them. But this was different!

She shook her head over and over as he tried to retell reality, to convince her of his lies, all the while taunting her. She whispered between pained gasps, not even waiting for him to stop, denying his words as fast as he could spew them at her. "No... ohhhhh, no... not my fault... you are ohhhhhh.... you are an evil man that's .... ohhhhh.... that's why! I would never be your good little girl, never would marry a man like ohhhhhh.... like you... and if I did I would have suffered like this anyway...ohhhhhh never would... I would never ohhhhh" The rest of his words were too lewd to even try to understand and rebel against, the image he painted to crude to possibly describe her, and she just turned her head aside, carefully staring away from the side where the phone was, her hair in her face and staring at her ankle beside her face, his big hand gripping it, seeing the muscles rippling in his forearm as he held her down on the bed.

And then it hurt. Hurt worse. Constance felt the force of him, felt it driving into her, ripping her guts apart, probably tearing her open. She cried out, yelled in pain, calling him a bastard and names even worse that if her father answered in that second he would be appalled. She glared at him, then anywhere else but him, only he was right on top of her and there was almost nowhere else to look but his face, her world filled with nothing but Jacob as she moaned and squealed in pain and shock at how deep a man could get inside a woman.

She groaned, struggling to control herself, to quiet down, to keep her suffering quiet so he wouldn't get to have this obvious sadistic pleasure she saw in his face staring down at her. Don't give him the satisfaction. Constance winced and grimaced, gasping with each deep thrust because she no matter how hard she tried she just couldn't control it completely, but stifling the yelps of pain, hating him silently with her eyes and her heart without calling him an uncaring jerk again. Only he moved, still holding her down but shifting his body against her a little until his grip on her ankles pulled her legs together against his chest so he could wrap one strong arm around her ankles and calves and as much as she squirmed still couldn't get free.

She heard a click on the phone, blinking and ready to talk, only at that moment she saw him reaching for her, right at her neck and she tried to press back away from him, into the bed, but there was no escape and his fist gripped the collar of Rory's old college shirt and pulled, hard, a sudden jerk that almost gave her whiplash and made a shredding sound as the fabric, four years old and well worn now, gave way. He ripped Rory's shirt down to her belly, until it was just tatters hanging from the sleeves at her shoulders, her belly and breasts exposed to him. She tried to keep quiet but a moan of anger and indignation boiled up in her. The phone was still silent other than that one click, like her dad was doing that usual thing of his where it took him 5 or 10 seconds to figure out which button answered the phone and which was was up before he could actually say anything.

Constance couldn't keep quiet. It was her husband's memory, one of the most precious things she had from him, the shirt he'd worn in bed on their honeymoon after they'd made love the first time, and which he'd never worn again because he said she looked so much sexier in it which delighted her of course. It already had his smell, and she wasn't even sure if it still smelled like him anymore for real because she just had to look at it and she couldn't help imagining the scent of him even though she knew it just had to be love and imagination rather than anything real. And now it was shredded. "You son of a bitch! That was...." Before she could state the obvious his hand found its way between them, down low, so close to where his shaft was buried in her, and he touched her, stroking and then slipping in with the lube he'd poured all over, making her gasp and suck in a breath through her teeth, before groaning again as he thrust his cock and fingers together, one hurting her ass, the other teasing right on the spot it had taken her and Rory two years to figure out she had. She turned her head so her cheek was buried against her shoulder and murmured "No... don't.... don't do that... stop... that's... that's Rory's... not for... ohhhh..... not for y-y-yoouuu."

She moaned, sounding like the worst porn imitation she could imagine, little as she'd ever seen the stuff. Precisely at the moment she heard that familiar voice, quiet with the distance from the receiver in her other fist, knowing even before he said them what the words would be. "Hello daughter. What do you need?" Tears welled in her eyes at the words she always hated, hated how they implied she needed and couldn't handle herself, how they communicated his believe she would need him constantly until she finally married a husband and then would switch to needing him, no clue how she would do well in college on her own, how a career could be hers. Only here she was, naked and pinned to her bed with Jacob's thick cock buried painfully in her ass and his fingers wantonly doing what he wanted. And she couldn't stop him. And this had gone too far. And she needed her Daddy. "Daddy!" She cried out, wincing at a deep thrust and then groaning again as he stroked her, hating how it made her sound. "Please, Daddy, help me...ohhh.... He's raping... ohhhh.... raping me.... ohhhhhhh, Jacob raping ohhhhhh... save me!" She said it as fast as she could, but it took multiple breaths as every movement Jacob made inside her, whether the pain of his cock or awful pleasure of his stroking fingers, made her gasp and groan and start again with a fresh breath.

The fact that Rory hadn't known how to properly please his wife from the start would have made Jacob laugh uncontrollably but it wouldn't have surprised him at all. While neither brother had been religious growing up Rory had always been more... conservative in how he saw things. When Rory had turned sixteen, before the relationship between the brothers had been soured by the rebellious little redhead that Jacob had his cock buried in, Jacob had taken him to a strip club, a high end sort of place that catered to those who had money and taste... but when Jacob had arranged for a 'private' dance for his younger brother Rory had instead slipped out of the club and later explained that it felt awkward for him to objectify women like that. Oh the sentimental younger brother had been saving himself for marriage rather then having all the fun that was possible... and that left his bride just as inexperienced which would give Jacob much more to work with.

His fingers in her cunt, as tight as her ass but starting to lubricate itself rather quickly as Jacob put his years of experience to work in order to torment her with pleasure even as he humiliated her with his cock stuffed in her ass. Oh the things that occurred to him when he heard just how responsive she was to the ministrations of his fingers, he could make her cum, he could leave her screaming and crying unable to keep the pleasures from rushing through her body and robbing her of any particular sense or he could just leave her on the edge, letting her know just how easy it would be for him to make her cum against her will and yet torment her by not giving her that pleasure. That could of course be fun, teasing her and bringing her to the edge over and over again until she was even more motivated to beg him to fuck her cunt.

She was crying out for her daddy, as if her father would save her, Jacob couldn't help but laugh at her until he heard more, like she was actually talking to her father rather then just crying out in pain and desperation. He glanced to the side, saw her grasping a phone, how had he missed that, how had he possibly made that mistake? His teeth clenched, his eyes narrowed and he thrust harder into Constance while the arm that was holding her legs tight together moved quickly, his hand clamping over her mouth and nose while squeezing tightly, to silence her, make breathing harder, and of course to cause her pain. “Joshua!” He called out, listening carefully so that he would be able to hear her father over the phone, forcing his rage down for a little while in order to sound casual about it. “Constance here is quite a spit fire, I mean I try and kiss her but she starts screaming about rape... going to make consummating this thing pretty tricky but I suspect she will soon learn her place.”

The lie was a blatant one and from the silence on the other end of the phone it sounded like Joshua was taking a few moments to figure out what he should do. “Constance...” He said softly, as if struggling on his own end with what was happening at that moment. “You shouldn't be over reacting and calling me with things like this... Jacob is your husband now and I want you to be happy with him. Give it time...” A few more moments of awkward silence and the phone went dead, Jacob suspecting that Joshua hung up before he heard anything else that would make his position all the more difficult... a man of faith in a position where the faith hurt the daughter he could barely relate to, oh it was almost enough to make Jacob start laughing again.

His fingers curled all the more now, oh she was going to be screaming in pleasure soon, the idea of just teasing her with the potential pleasure was not nearly as delicious as making her understand just how powerful the pleasures he could provide her with were. Leaning over again, his face right before hers as he released her mouth to snatch away and toss the phone across the room. “I am going to make you suffer for that Constance.” He warned her, every word dripping with menace even as he worked to hold back his climax, wanting to make her as he was filling her ass with spunk. “I am going to burn all the clothing that my brother has left behind, I will be pulling you from your education until you learn to submit to me, and I will be fucking your ass until you are ready to beg for my cock in your cunt...” Not ready to give her a chance to object he kissed her, no sign of affection but instead just another way to show her that he was in complete control over her, his lips pressing roughly against hers, his tongue dipping into her mouth, their second kiss much the same as the first from all those years ago.