Demon from the Past,

WC 800

Demon from the Past


My cell phone jangled just as we finished in the shop. “Take a break,” I told Jake stepping outside for better reception.
It was Beth. I had sent flowers after our “night-over at the office,” and had been hoping to hear from her.

“I’m having a Gumbo party,” she said excitedly, “can you come?”

“What’s that?”

"A party with a New Orleans theme. “Yesterday the Agency reached the Ten Million Dollar sales mark and I'm throwing a celebration.”

“Hmmmm,” I pondered stroking my jaw.

“Please Frank, it’s here at the office Friday night and I’m dying to introduce you.”

“OK," I answered, "can I bring my friend Jake?”

“Of course and by the way, thanks for the flowers… nobody ever did that before…” The connection broke.

“Friday night…It’s party time!” I told Jake.

“Cool,” he answered.

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When we arrived a song was blaring…”Jambalaya, catfish pie, fillets gumbo…” The door stood open and inside were a throng of revelers, eating, laughing and having a good time. Beth walked us around making introductions. At the serving table we got a beer and a steaming bowl of Gumbo. A pretty girl helping Beth was giving Jake the eye.

"Clarisse, this is Jake, Frank's friend, why don't you make him feel at home."

The party went on until nearly midnight before beginning to thin out. Beth and I slowly made our way back to the condo.

She took a deep breath exhaling…"Whew!... Now I have you all to myself."

We hastily undressed and I carried her over to the bed. She seemed pensive and unexpectedly subdued. “This will be a night to remember.” I whispered. lowering her onto the mattress. My lips brushed her neck and she pulled nervously away. She shivered in my arms and began to tremble. What’s this? I thought, everything was fine last week. In her eyes I could see an inner struggle taking place.

"Frank, I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything,” I replied. “What is it?”

“I want you to tie me down.”

“Huh?” I blurted out, “I don't understand.”

“To the bed… She reached into the nightstand and took out two pairs of restraints, cotton straps with Velcro sleeves. On the ends were quick release plastic inserts and a cinch.

“Why Beth, please tell me why.”

“Because this is the way I was introduced to love…and while I hated it then, my feelings have gradually changed. Sometimes I just need to have it done this way."

"Dear God! What kind of a man did this to you?"

“Please Frank, don’t ask.”

She trembled looking up at me with pleading eyes. Raising a thigh she extended a foot in my direction. With a shrug I attached one end to her ankle. It snapped shut with a "click." The other I fastened to the footboard. She lay back on the bed spread-eagle. Her sex yawned. I don’t believe this, I thought, cinching down the other ankle.

As I walked to the bedstead her eyes followed, locked on my erection. Mesmerized she watched with a panicked look. Taking her wrists I secured them likewise to the pillars of the head-board. She seemed caught in a flashback; nervous eyes and pale face, symptoms of a past trauma. Crawling on top I positioning myself, nudging her thighs with my knees. She threw her head back and groaned as I entered.

“It’s OK Honey,” I said reassuringly.

My hands guided her waist and my fingers pulled up as she arched backward. “I’m not going to hurt you, Sweetheart.”

She began to tremble as perspiration beaded and began to flow. Her hands gave slack and fingers closed tightly around the restraints.

“Not like this” she pleaded…as I began to stroke.

“Easy now,” I said soothingly

“But I'll give you anything...” she cried out, becoming more agitated. Her voice spoke to a haunted past, words intended for a memory. Sweat glistened on her stomach and breasts. “Please turn me loose,” she whimpered, kipping her shoulders.

I picked up the tempo as she thrashed feverishly.

“Don't do me like this,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. “Why? Why?”

Her body began to heave and I felt an orgasm coming. It welled in intensity feeding off the power off repressed emotions. I answered, exploiting those vulnerable moments with an almost cruel and shameless eagerness. A cry of anguish filled the room. It hung tortured in the air, on the cusp of dark ecstasy...."I hate you!" she screamed, in a throes of cathartic passion. It reverberated off the walls, shrill and full of pain. Sobbing Beth collapsed, wracked with emotion, spent and exhausted.

As her breathing began to calm I got up. “What was that all about?”

“A bad dream," she replied...still her eyes gleamed…"Well don't just stand there staring!”