The Name on The Mailbox Reads Jones (DeRe & AndNich123)

5:59. The numbers blared, lit up in red. In a few seconds they would change, bringing on the new day. As they changed, music was released into the air, and Amy stirred. Her fingers reached for the contraption, though her eyes were not even opened. It was a well rehearsed dance, one she did five days out of the week. Two buttons over to the left and press. Now she knew she had ten more minutes, but by the time the music sounded once more, she would not be in the room. As inviting as the softness of the satin sheets and the warmth the bed held was, the day would wait for no one. She would take a few minutes to brush her locks from her face and rub her eyes until the ceiling above came into perfect focus. He was in bed next to her, still sleeping peacefully. This was a part of her day, one she would not be denied, that she enjoyed. Him, resting, close to her, without a care in the world as he was lost in slumber. In the soft glow of the coming morning light he looked ethereal. It took everything she had not to reach over and touch his face, but she didn’t want to disturb him. Soon enough the alarm clock would do that. Minutes was all she had. It was all she needed to make her way into the kitchen and start the coffee.

‘Coffee,’ her mind beckoned, urging her to slip from the bed and tip toe into the kitchen. Her body needed the sweet relief the caffeine would bring. As far as habits go, drinking coffee every morning was certainly not the worst she could do. In no time at all, the machine barely made a sound as the blue light around the silver button let her know the aroma of coffee would soon fill the air. Yawning, she stretched before noticing the list on the refrigerator. As the first drops hit the glass pot, she pulled it from the magnet holding it into place. ‘Hmmmm. Let’s see. Flour, eggs, milk, sugar.’ Amy smiled. ‘Two cakes in one week. He’s going to become spoiled. I’ll just double up and make the same cake for his birthday that I’m making for the block party this weekend. Bailey needs to go to the doctor this week as well.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘That’s always fun.’ Lifting her gaze, she listened carefully. There was no sound from Bailey, and she wasn’t sure if she heard movement from the bedroom. Looking back at her list, she began again. ‘I need to stop by the dry cleaners today as well. I hope they were able to remove that stain. That is the last time I cook with hot sauce again. I need to stop by and pick up his birthday present too. I can’t forget that. Now let’s see. What can I get him this year?’ Amy was lost in thought when she was sure she finally heard movement from the bedroom. ‘I know!’ Her mind snapped closed on her idea, and her face lit up. ‘Perfect! I know exactly where to go to get it too!’ Turning towards the coffee, she left the list on the counter. As she poured two cups of coffee, she cleared her throat, ready to tell him her plans. “Good morning sweet heart. After work today I’ve got a few errands to run. I may try to take care of one of them on my lunch hour. The clothes are ready at the dry cleaners, and I need to go to the market. Bailey needs to go to the,” she paused, “you know what,” she finished, her tone deeper. “You know he hates it, but it’s time for his shots. I won’t have him infested with fleas or something. So you take him.” Amy wasn’t going to mention his birthday, but as she looked into those eyes, those mesmerizing eyes of his that gripped her heart and warmed her body, she couldn’t resist. “Happy birthday my love. I hope today is everything you want.” Putting her cup down, she made her way over to him and embraced him. “After I finish my coffee, I’m going to take a shower. Join me if you like.”

The morning passed, and Amy was out of the door and on her way to work. Her job wasn’t fabulous, or one that would earn any notoriety, but she was happy. Not having any children of her own, Amy decided to have a career in the school system. Those were her children in a sense, all of them. She would do everything within her power to take care of them. It was a career she always knew she wanted. Excelling in school, she plotted her course in college to put her life on the proper path. Never did she let anything keep from her goals. She had the few indiscretions from time to time, but Amy discarded them, knowing they could never keep her from the finish line. Only once did someone truly get to her so much so that she could not shake him, and in the end, she did the only thing she could do. She married him. It was days like today she recalled how they met, their first date, and how their relationship progressed. Had it been on his birthday when their relationship took a serious leap to the next level? No. It was her birthday, and she decided to treat herself that night. She had no idea just how much of a treat that night would be.

The dry cleaners was closed that day, a personal issue, or so the note on the door said. One errand done and far easier than she thought it would be. Her stop at the market went off easy as well. She even picked up some flowers for him. Granted some might think a woman should receive flowers instead of giving them, Amy did not care. To her, they were a symbol to her husband of just how much she loved him. One more stop to make, and Amy hoped it wouldn’t take long. It was during the week, and that might pose a problem, but getting him his birthday present was the most important thing. She was willing to pay handsomely for it if need be. Later than she had hoped, Amy returned home. With no time to bake him a cake, she decided to improvise. Frosting. That was all he would get, but in the way she presented it, she knew he wouldn’t mind. She was ready for him when he got home. Once more, she rushed to embrace him. “You’re home! I’m so happy to see you! I’ve got a surprise for you. I hope you don’t mind, but I wrapped your present. Oh come see,” she exclaimed, taking him by the hand and leading him further inside. “It’s here, in the game room. Oh I hope you like it baby.” Opening the door to their game room, she flipped the light on. There, restrained to a table with bright red ribbon, was a brunette. She was naked, the chocolate frosting intended for his cake painted on her body. Her mouth was gagged with the remains of her panties. She starred at him with wide eyes full of fear. The flowers were spread out around, as if framing her body. Amy squeezed his hand, her face beaming. “I hope you like her baby. Happy birthday. I love you.”

The morning sunlight landed across Clive's face like the soft kiss of his wife. So begins my forty-fifth year on earth, he reflected with a sleepy smile. That made seventeen years since he had come to the States from England; although his Coventry accent refused to budge after all this time and he still dragged his A's like a limping leg. It also marked six years since he had met the woman of his dreams and five since he had married her. Listening to Amy's cheerful, playful voice he once again thanked the universe for bringing the vivacious redhead into his life. There had never been a shortage of women in his past; but this one was superior to all the rest. Never had he met one who was so thoughtful, intelligent and obliging - and with the sexual appetite of a lioness.

A curling tangy smell of coffee finally brought him out of bed. Swinging his feet around into a pair of well-worn slippers, he regarded the impeccably groomed German shepherd waiting patiently in the doorway. "Morning, Bailey," Clive slurred softly to the dog. He rose from the bed with a sigh, idly scratching his beloved pet between the ears. "Let's go see what Mum's up to, eh?"

Their kitchen was elegant but homely, with a place for everything and everything in its place. He took his cup with a kiss, then leaned against the doorway as he watched Amy do her thing. There was nothing he needed to say, because she understood him intuitively anyway. Her invitation to the shower was not to be missed, and he drained his hot cup of joe so fast it burned on the way down. But such discomfort was washed away by the warm water and a loving, expertly delivered birthday blowjob. He looked down in quiet adoration into the fixed gaze of his wife's pale blue eyes, her gorgeous red locks turned a rusty brown by the water. A long low moan escaped him as she dug her scarlet nails in his firm ass, draining him dry. There would be a smile on his face for the rest of his day, and he knew that delighted her to no end.

Such a pleasant start saw his good mood continue even through another dull day at the office. Clive managed a rental car company, and it was a long way from the sort of career he had sought when he first washed up on the western bank of the Atlantic. Certainly he doubted his relentlessly normal co-workers would never have assumed their boss has been everything from a pickpocket to a porn star. Now he was the very image of a mundane suit, and despite the boredom he was forced to admit to himself he enjoyed the quiet pace for once. The matronly Meryl appeared early with the obligatory card, signed by all his hard-working employees. Despite her somewhat grating nature he felt positively fond of her today, and the peck he gave her on her rouged, aged cheek would have her buzzing for the week. Then he wasted the morning hours handling various accounts, and occasionally glancing out the window in hope of spying the hard-bodied blond beauty who jogged past occasionally before lunch. No sign of her today, and he slightly regretted it. While he would never cheat on Amy like some suburban house husband, he certainly appreciated such a fine piece of the feminine form. Once again he resolved to learn the mystery jogger's details someday, and talk to Amy about inviting her around.

He idled away the post-lunch day thinking about what his birthday present would be. One of his wife's many superb qualities was her impeccable taste, and his imagination ran riot with the possibilities. When Meryl cheekily hinted he could leave an hour early by way of a present to him, Clive needed no further prompting. "You're a gem, Mer," he grinned, already halfway out the door. With a nimble leap he hopped into his olive Jaguar, and ducked through the growing rush-hour traffic on the road back home. He could already feel an erection growing impatiently in his tailored pinstripe trousers, like a beast at the zoo which knew feeding time was approaching.

Clive rolled into the driveway, just another wage slave home to his adoring wife. He moved slower and more purposefully now, savouring what was coming next. Bailey greeted him with a vigorous tail-wag on the front step, none the worse for wear from his trip to the vet. Giving him a passing pat Clive strode through the front door, throwing his briefcase aside like a schoolboy dumping his bag and racing to his toys. Amy rushed to his arms and he embraced her passionately, inhaling the soft nutmeg and vanilla smell that fragranced her fiery locks. My surprise. She knew exactly how to excite and amuse him, having an almost telepathic ability to know his mind.

The games room was his favorite part of the house. Clive paused for a moment to regard the pretty young girl, bound and terrified, waiting for him. Turning to Amy with a beaming smile, he kissed her deliriously, then whispered in her ear. "Darling, I like it very much. You never fail to amaze me!" Landing another softer kiss on her cheek, he began to swiftly disrobe. His expression changed now as he looked at the struggling girl, shifting from that of a loving husband to a detached sadist. "I love what you did with the flowers," he said absently, as if thinking aloud. Once naked, he ran a finger across the fearful brunette's quivering flesh, licking off some of the chocolate icing. He kept his gaze fixed on the girl's huge brown eyes, which were swimming with tears and horror. "Where do you find her? Is this the teacher's aide you mentioned the other week?" He wasn't really paying attention to Amy, but nonetheless was keenly aware of her presence. It was profoundly important to him that she watch, and enjoy, what happened next.

Clive raped the girl savagely, with cruel tearing thrusts. He used her body as a plaything; twisting her firm youthful breasts, slapping her scarlet cheeks, throttling her slender white throat. Hurting her as much as possible energized him intensely. Muffled screams were choked by her panties; that was a small kink Clive particularly enjoyed - it was an extra little touch of debasement that always thrilled him. She was tight and tender, the velvet slip between her slim legs stroking his throbbing cock like a glove. The girl's screams rose in intensity, breaking into wails like a storm cloud bursting into rain. He always loved it when they fought; the ones who surrendered and submitted were no fun and were usually swiftly dispatched. But this lovely little creature would suffer for days, and fight for her life through every moment of it.

He finished faster than he would have liked, but with complete satisfaction nonetheless. Toweling himself off, he turned to Amy with his roguish grin. "Do you want a turn, love? Or should we let Bailey have some fun?" Sighing softly, he turned back to look at the girl. "I do like this one a lot, your taste is perfect as ever, babe. I think we'll cut this one, I want her to last".

The way her skin tightened with his touch, the redness that followed every blow, how she cried out, muffled into her own undergarments, watching how he ravaged her, knowing the destruction was far deeper than her skin could ever show, all of these things were things she relished. This was him, her husband, in his element, and yet it wasn’t the one thing she enjoyed the most. It was the look. Amy always waited for it, holding her breath at times, until it was there, playing on his lips and dancing in his eyes. She didn’t even know if he was aware of it. Honestly she didn’t want to ask him. He might change it if he knew he was doing it. So it was her silent reward, her silent pleasure, in times like this. It was the look on his face as he changed, shifting from her husband to the savage predator he was. Many times this look had been on his face, and every single time she always felt the same twinge running deep. It was bliss, and it was hers’, just like him.

She watched him take her, never wanting this time to end, but of course it had to. He was only human, and she was but a mere, fragile woman. Amy had already made many assumptions about her during their time at the bar where she picked her up. She only added to those as she watched her husband playing with her. She was his play thing after all. For now. At the bar, she had given off such a strong vibe. A confident woman who would settle for nothing but the best with the looks to make sure that was exactly what she got. In seconds her husband had reduced her to a sniveling pile of flesh begging and pleading a cloth gag shoved into her mouth. She was weak, pathetic even. He had that effect on women. She had that effect on women for that matter. They all wanted to appear to be so much stronger, so much more than what they really were. It always amazed her how this situation allowed a person’s true colors to show through.

His words caught her off guard. She wasn’t brushing him and the show before her aside, far from it in fact. Amy was lost in perfect thought. She burned the images into her mind for recollection at any moment. He was right. The smile on her face provided proof she agreed with him. Her taste was perfect. For a split second, Amy was torn. “Bailey has had a….trying day,” she replied, moving closer to the whimpering form. “But I think I would enjoy painting upon this lovely….lovely canvas. She is exquisite my love. See how her skin is already reflecting the brilliant shades of purple and black? Notice how the red marks still manage to be a striking contrast on her skin, and note how the blood, the beautiful blood has created these remarkable streak patterns. I’ll have to photograph her at some point, if you’re serious about keeping her around that is. I’ll add her to my portfolio. She’ll be a beautiful addition. Perhaps we could even record her. Her voice, it cuts,” she paused, smiling down at her, “through the air. No pun intended.”

Amy turned away from the two of them abruptly. In as much as he had his look, so too did she. It must have been plastered on her face. It wasn’t really a look. It was more of a moment, a moment where she ceased being Amy Jones, diligent worker, compassionate, caring, good listener, a pillar in her own neighborhood to what she was about to become. As she arrived at the counter, Amy began to remove her clothes. Her actions were not slow and graceful. She wasn’t doing this for her husband. That would garner style and finesse. This was no such occasion. Her hands rifled through the drawers, drawers that were full of her tools of the trade. She had her own devices for inflicting pain. Only when she was satisfied, did she turn back towards her and cross the distance between them. “And so it begins,” she said, giving the girl all the warning, all the time to prepare she would ever receive. Amy enjoyed every quiver from her flesh, every muffled cry of agony, every pull against the restraints she knew would hold. When she felt it, that moment when there wasn’t anymore fight left inside of her, Amy stepped back. She was covered in her own sweat, as well as that and the icing from the girl’s body. Her body had made patterns in the icing, revealing more of the girl’s body to them both. “Beautiful,” she whispered. “I’d hang on her the wall if we had the supplies. I don’t think we do though. Perhaps we need to make a trip to the hardware store.” She returned her items back to their home, and in turning back to her husband, it was clear her own predator had returned to it’s cage. “I think Bailey should have a treat as well. After all, we can’t leave her down her with the remains of the icing on her body. She’ll be disgusting for our next meeting. I don’t want that,” she added, wrinkling her nose slightly. It was an excuse to allow Bailey some fun as well as giving her a change to be close to her husband as they watched. She only hoped her husband didn’t see through her.

A satiated glow suffused Clive as he stood back from the girl. He felt like a bug which had just shed its carapace, and was reborn refreshed and unblemished. The whole experience had been cathartic, a purgative for his soul. Now Clive could take the time to step back and savour things, a connoisseur of sadism. He watched Amy step towards the girl, feeling an almost abstract detachment, like he was taking in a movie. A slight quiver ran through him as she spoke, talking about how she relished the colours of the girl's abused body. Always the artist, he thought, quietly reveling in the poetry of his wife's distinctively unique perspective. He saw the shift in character as it passed over her, like a shadow moving across a wall. Nobody but him could have seen the crisp frosty look that suddenly glazed over her bright and friendly eyes. She was showing him the private self that no-one else had ever known about. It thrilled him so utterly that she would shed her "people suit" for him alone; never had he experienced a more erotic thrill. Their complicity and mutual trust was an wordless bond, the unspoken language of love that only the most intimate of couples could know.

Then she went to work, as he sat back and watched. Clive had an undisguised fascination with the way his wife toyed with their playthings. In Amy's smooth, capable hands the girl was like a musical instrument, and she a virtuoso performer. Certainly, he marveled at the way he could do things to a body and a mind that Clive himself could never conceive of. For a few moments the struggling girl made eye contact with him, as Amy prepared her tools. Clive plunged deep into the terror-filled grey pools that blinked at him. It was a recognizable place, almost wearisome in its familiarity, as he knew wretched creatures like this girl quite well. No doubt she was some careless college kid caught in life's breeze, far less capable than she thought she was. After a few rough bouts with the knuckle-dragging louts on campus she had decided to be daring, and take a chance with another of her sex. That had led her to the club, and into the smiling kind gaze of Amy. No doubt the hapless ingenue though the confident, sensual older woman would have been the perfect guide into a new realm of happiness. But now that woman had turned into a flame-haired fiend, taking the girl's body to a place of pain so shocking, she had never imagined its existence.

It was with a swell of pride that he watched his beautiful wife climax as she tortured their toy. He had seen Amy sigh and shriek, cry and moan, in countless ways as he pleasured her. But never did she seem to enjoy such pure ecstasy as when he she was performing with him in a time like this. Clive knew that his gorgeous wife didn't solely enjoy violating the girl - her primary thrill came from doing it in front of him. It was, especially today of all days, the greatest expression of love he could give him.

"I really am the luckiest guy in the world," he said, standing up awkwardly as his erection throbbed angrily. Amy returned her tools to their place, chatting as nonchalantly as if making plans for dinner. Clive chuckled slightly as she wrinkled her nose, he always found it so adorable. "And speaking of lucky, come along now Bailey!" He snapped his fingers and the glossy-coated Alsatian bounded over from where it had been patiently sitting in the corner, watching its pack at play. Clive tore away the remnants of wrapping paper from the trembling girl, and released the catches holding her bound wrists and ankles in place. Then he rolled her off the slab as casually indifferent as if he were dropping a sack on the floor. Swiftly he seized the girl's slender hips, digging his groomed nails in tight to keep a hold on her sweat- and cream-covered body. He positioned her roughly on her knees, pushing her head down to the floor so that her petite, toned ass now flashed pale and slick in the dull light. Grinning at Bailey, he cooed "Wait for it boy! Wait for it!" Then he looked over at Amy, who was about to don a dressing down. "No need for that baby, stay in your glorious nakedness a little while more - consider it a final present." Then carefully placed his foot atop the girl's head, forcing it down against the floor beneath his black leather shoe. Bailey watched on transfixed, a thick coil of drool slowly snaking down from his panting maw.

"Mount!" said Clive in a sharp clipped voice. In a single smooth movement the burly dog leaped upon the struggling girl, penetrating her in a smooth practiced move. Its forepaws closed tight along her flanks as its powerful hind legs began thrusting rapidly. From behind her gag the girl began making noises that were barely human, as the dog's cock balled into a knot and began inflicting a unique and horrific agony deep inside her.

"I say, darling," drawled Clive, "but Bailey has certainly taken a shine to the little bitch!"

Amy’s lips melted into a warm smile. Slowly she allowed her garments to slip away from her body once more. She liked hearing him talk like this. Her glorious nakedness. Those were the words that stuck with her more than the reveal of something so grand as a final present. He need not give her anything more. Already he had showered her with more attention, more pleasure, than any woman deserved.

She watched as he moved their new toy with ease. There was no tenderness to his movements. Why should there be? She was nothing more than a piece of furniture to be tossed about at their leisure. His foot forced her head down, and Amy was transfixed. She took note of how the girl’s skin wrinkled and how her nostrils flared as her cheek was pressed firmly against the cold, hard floor. Her eyes were filled with fear. Seeing that level of fear within someone is intoxicating, addicting. This girl had no control over her own fate or body. That degree of power is something one cannot simply step away from. In Amy’s case, she refused to..

Her predator had been caged once more, satisfied by this toy. Now a new beast was emerging. She could feel the familiar tingle between her legs, the burning in her thighs, the fire of her hardening nipples, and the electricity dancing along her skin. She flinched slightly as Clive commanded Bailey. There was such authority in his voice. Even though she knew it was coming, it was the power behind his tone that took her by surprise. It only added to the building emotions. Her hand that had been resting on the counter slipped from it, grazing her own sex before she stepped forward just in time to get a better angle of Bailey claiming his own prize. The sounds, those tortured cries, were unique. Every person has a different one they make, and even then it varies on the pain inflicted upon them. This girl’s agonizing squeals seemed to come from deep within her belly. Amy liked that. Her hand gently touched her own belly as she watched Bailey take her. This was how a slut should be used. Quickly, roughly, with no regard for their own feelings. She had no say in what was happening to her, and that was how it should be.

As her cries grew louder, Amy knew what was happening. Soon enough Bailey would fill her up with his seed. Amy smiled, her eyes leaving the show to face Clive. “Indeed he has, and he’s been such a good boy lately too. Maybe we should keep her around. Too bad she can’t truly breed with him, but still honey I want Bailey’s seed to stay deep inside her. So what do you think about binding her once more and inserting something to make sure it doesn’t leak out. Of course if it does,” her expression slightly, as if she were the girl’s mother, “she’ll have to clean up every drop. I don’t want a mess down here. Her tongue will do nicely. I say we keep her around though. I do so love watching her.” Amy felt a growing need as she spoke, listening to the girl’s sounds of sorrow. It was one that drew her in. Slowly she sank down to the cold surface, giving Bailey soft sounds that let him know it was okay. She did not desire the dog. No, she wanted him to keep at his task. What she longed for was something far more sinister. Her eyes met the gaze of the terrified, abused girl. She was searching Amy’s, trying to find something, hope, a lifeline, anything. Amy slowly shook her head slightly. “No bitch. There is no help for you here. I just want to see your pain, your fear. It’s so beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Her hand reached out to smooth back her hair. “This is getting in the way of your beautiful face. I’ll have to shave it.” The poor girl’s eyes widened as she tried to shake her head no, all the while screaming behind the gag. “Shhhh. It’s okay. No one is probably going to ever see you again anyway, and this will be less upkeep on you. Maybe you can prove you can keep it, that it won’t be a problem, but I doubt it. Once we make up our minds, we always get what we want.” Amy leaned forward kissing her head and closing her eyes. “Come on Bailey. Take her hard,” she whispered, longing to hear the girl scream louder. She could feel her own sex growing wetter. The closeness to girl seemed to convey her pain even stronger. Her eyes remained closed as she heard the girl break into sobs, break into fresh screams, and simply break altogether. Amy knew Bailey was pumping her full, and it only made her long for the same thing, to feel a man filling her. “That’s it Bailey,” she whispered against the matted strands of the girl’s hair. “Fill her up.” Her lips remained close to the girl, but her eyes turned towards Clive. “Now,” she smiled. “My turn to be filled.”