Warning: The following story contains scenes of domestic violence, some sex and a lot of bad language. If you are offended by this, please do not read the story. If you read it, thoughtful comments about the story are welcome, of course.
Hard Hal
by Pamela
The following story is inspired by a true event.
We are visiting the Mason's for an evening of dinner and bridge. My wife, Debbie and myself, Hal. The drive to their house is exactly one mile, but in the two minute journey we manage to get embroiled in a terrific argument. As is often the case, the subject of our conflict is our fifteen year old son, Bruce, who is acting out at school. I want his actions to be met by consequences. Debbie, on the other hand, who is enabling by nature, claims that his behavior is due to his teachers being "nutcases." She explodes in anger when I will not back down from my insistence that we ground Bruce until he improves at school and apologizes to his teachers.
As long as we have been married, Debbie has had an explosive anger - eyes darting from side to side, lips curled in a snarl. The truth is she often blames me for Bruce's acting out, irrational as that may be, and it fuels her hatred when I deny responsibility. I have learned that reason has no place in this discussion.
Betty is 5' 6" and I am 6'. She is a bit stocky and I keep trim. Perhaps we are not the most visually matched couple. She once had a great figure, now it sags a bit and her breasts have increased in size to the point that they are quite formidable. Thankfully she is still fairly pretty and I have always loved her long brown hair. After 17 years of marriage we think we know each other pretty well.
She is shouting when I park the car in the Mason's driveway. I try to calm her down as I always do in such circumstances. I apologize even though I believe I have no reason to. Anything to avoid a scene in front of the Masons. Nothing seems to work. This is not usual. She is much more worked up than normal and I am worried. I cannot seem to say the right things to calm her down. I suggest perhaps we should go home, but she starts screaming "what are you afraid of? Am I embarrassing you?" Well of course I am embarrassed. She is just plain nuts.
Debbie gets out of the car and I join her. She walks to the front door. She is calling me names and cursing at me. Much too loud. If the Masons have a window open they will hear. Luckily its cold outside. I am talking in a low soothing voice, begging her forgiveness. I beg her not to say anything to the Masons. She tells me for the tenth time to "go fuck myself." I am still awaiting the return of her sanity. She rings the doorbell. A fraction of a second before it opens she says in an even voice, "you'll pay for this, you fucking asshole."
The door opens and its George Mason greeting us with his usual enthusiasm. I have forced a large smile on my face. Debbie is scowling and barely says "hello." Fortunately, as fast as Debbie gets mad, she has the ability to calm down and in the presence of George she quickly becomes her usual self. If George did notice anything unusual about Debbie, he did not let on that he saw it. Ten times during the night I told myself how lucky I was to have dodged this bullet. There would definitely never be a next time since I vowed to never say anything to Debbie again about my feelings about Bruce.
****************
We ride home in silence. I say, "it was a lot of fun." but Debbie does not respond. Bruce and his younger sister, Emily, are asleep when we come home. Debbie changes into her night gown and goes to the bathroom. When she is done I go to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for bed. When I return Debbie is sitting up in bed with a dark look on her face. Since I sleep naked, my clothes are off.
"You're going to fucking pay, Hal" she says in a loud voice.
"What?" I say. A wave of tension sweeps through my stomach.
She comes around to where I stand.
"I'm sorry for what I said before," I lie. "I thought that argument was all done and over."
"How could you do that to me on the way to the Masons?"
"Do what?"
"Don't be a fucking moron. You purposefully started calling me stupid."
"I never said you were stupid!"
To contradict her is to call her stupid. It is a lesson I never learn. Someday I will have to remember this fact. Does it really matter if I voice my opinions about things?
I can see that I am not saying the right thing assuming there is a right thing to say. "Now you're saying I'm even more stupid," she says.
"No, I'm not!"
"You fucking hate Bruce and you won't admit it!"
"I obviously don't hate him. I just think we have the right to insist that he..."
I never get a chance to finish the thought since this seems to be the last straw for Debbie. She slaps me hard on the face and grabs my arm and squeezes it.
She has never ever hit me before. In seventeen years of marriage. I am so stunned that I cannot believe it. A million thoughts flash through my mind: What kind of marriage do we have? How can we have come to this? What kind of future can there be together? How can I live with a woman who is this crazy?
"You fucking ass-hole motherfucker!" she yells at me as I stand hunched over in pain, her hand gripping me and trying to find skin to pinch.
"Ouch," I say and struggle to pull her arm off me, "how can you do that to me?" How can this be happening? I have to fight back. How else to stop her? The thought of fighting to save myself with my own wife is a hard one to imagine and I gather up my strength and courage so as to challenge her.
"That's it. No more hurting me." She stares at me. I raise my arms and clench my fists getting ready to throw a punch if she comes at me.
"You scum bag. I hate you. You're such a little shit." She steps right at me and I throw a punch at her. She catches my arm and digs her nails into it and I see her other hand coming for my face. I instinctively lift up my free arm to protect myself and back off away from her. She lets go of me and says, "you're hard! You're hard Hal. You're hard you fucking asshole! You like it!" She comes back at me with clenched fists and punches me on the upper arm and almost gets my head except she hits the back of my hand.
"See it makes you hard!"
It is true. I have developed a monstrous erection. It is so strong I think my penis is going to burst.
"You're a fucking pervert!"
"I am not," I say. "Its nothing."
She comes flying at me and slaps my face again. "Don't hit me," I say.
"Look at that fucking dick!" she says. "Get on the bed you motherfucker!"
I sit down on the side of the bed with my enlarged cock between my legs.
"Lie down you perverted dickhead," she says and grabs my hair and pulls it.
"Ow," I say in a stifled scream. "Have you gone crazy?" I lay down looking up at her.
"Me crazy you fucker?" She takes off her pajama bottoms and straddles me and plants her vagina on the end of my almost uncontrollably large penis. She forces her herself onto it and begins screwing me. She is a bit dry and makes no attempt to be gentle and I say, "you're hurting me." She stops and slaps me on the face two times and then resumes. I know my cheek must be bright red and I hope it will not be black and blue the next day. "Grab my tits you pervert." They are dancing in front of me, swaying from side to side as she pumps her hips up and down. I reach up and stroke them and gently caress her nipples.
It is years and years since Debbie has been on top in our lovemaking. She pumps up and down forcefully and gets into a rhythm with the springs in the mattress. For my part the pleasure between my legs is intense, but at the same time she repeatedly slaps me and calls me names. She builds up to a climax in which her whole body shudders in orgasm. She continues screwing me and rises to a second orgasm and then a third. As hard as I am I am not able to climax. Every time I feel close to it she hits me again and I lose my concentration. I am getting terribly fearful of her next slap and I say "please stop hitting me. You're hurting me!"
"I have to keep you hard!" she says. She is approaching another orgasm and moves her vagina up and down on my shaft with relentless pressure.
"Please stop! I'm sorry for everything. You have to stop. You're hurting me!"
"Fucking whimpering baby. I have nothing but contempt for you. All those years of putting out for a pathetic weakling. You'll stay here as long as I want you to."
"Nothing I've ever done deserves this. You're being sadistic!"
"You're such a pervert you actually like being beaten."
"Its not true. I want you to stop."
"When I fucking well feel like it," she says "and one more word and I'll punch instead of slap."
She is so clearly nuts, I make a sudden attempt to turn sideways to get out from under her. I succeed only in getting sideways with her legs straddling me. In a burst of hysterical anger she scratches me, pulls my hair and says, "lie down motherfucker. Where do you think you're going?"
I have no choice but to once again be on my back. She quickly mounts herself on me and continues her motion. I am exhausted and fight back tears. She continues through I do not know how many organs and occasional slaps until she finally rolls off me and silently, without sound or speech goes to sleep.
My penis slowly relaxes and a profound depression settles over me as I ponder my future with Debbie. Eventually I go to sleep.
The next day when I look at myself in the mirror I see that I look like I have been beaten up. Debbie ignores me at breakfast, though I think that she should apologize for what she has done. She looks fairly depressed herself and I assume this is why she does not own up to the consequences of her terrible anger.
****************
A month goes by and I come to believe that our evening of hell was an aberration never to be repeated. My sores and black and blue marks heal in a few days time. We get along well in our day to day life and our love making resumes its normal pattern. For my part I get in the habit of not expressing any opinions about Bruce and his school status. I let Debbie decide everything and accept it. One day we get a phone call from the school Principal. Bruce has been accused of breaking some lab equipment. Bruce says it is an accident, the teacher says it is because he has been "screwing around." That night I say to Bruce that I believe the teacher. He will have to pay for the breakage from his allowance and odd jobs. Debbie says the teacher is weird and she can understand Bruce's attitude. I disagree and then realize too late that I have gone beyond a point I should have.
"You don't love him," she says in front of Bruce.
I tell Bruce he had better leave and Debbie says, "afraid for him to hear the truth!"
It is clear that listening to our argument is the last thing Bruce wants to do and he turns to go. "Of course I love him," I say calmly. The moment Bruce is gone I add, "you're right, the teacher is weird."
"He's only in trouble because of you!" she says.
"You know that's not true," I say as gently as I can. I can see her anger seething on her face. I do not know what I can do to head off her anger. In a low voice I say, "I beg you honey. Please calm down. I know I was wrong. Just don't get so angry."
She ignores me and recites her litany of charges against me: what a cold sick person I am, how she hates my sarcasm and my tight constricted soul. I obviously think her stupid for criticizing the teacher, even though she knows that the teacher is an idiot and she is not at all surprised that Bruce is sticking up for himself.
"Honey, all I said is to at least listen to the teacher's point of view. She has a hard job."
"You think you're so fucking smart." Her eyes are darting back and forth. "You're a fucking pervert. You get off on humiliation and you think you're good for our son? Dad's a pervert!" she practically shouts.
I pray that Bruce is out of earshot. I hear his door shut in the distance and hope he has turned on his stereo to blot out our yelling.
"I'm going to tell the kids," she says getting up.
"C'mon, don't say anything. You'll regret it tomorrow."
"You want me to lie to the kids!"
"I'm sorry. I said I was sorry. I'm sorry I said what I did, but please don't say these things to the kids."
"They need to know the truth about their dad."
The only truth is that their mom is crazy, I think to myself. "You'll do something irreversible if you say something."
"Is that a threat!"
"Huh?" I say.
"Don't be stupid. You're threatening to leave me?" She comes close to where I am sitting on the bed and glowers at me. It is hard to believe we have ever been in love. Our eyes meet and I look away quickly.
"Scared of me? I'm six inches shorter than you. What a fucking weakling. Bruce has got to know what kind of dad he has."
"Don't say anything! I can't let you." I force myself to look up at her.
"What are you going to fucking do about it?"
"What? Are we in the school yard?" I say and rush to add, "you can't say those kind of things to a kid. It can only needlessly hurt him. If you hate me so much, OK, I understand. I'll do whatever you want. You want to leave me? I'll do anything but don't get the kids involved!"
It must have been the last straw for her since she says, "I hate you," and she takes a nasty slap at my face with her hand, with her nails barred so as to cut me. Luckily I turn away enough so that she swats my cheek and misses my eye by an inch.
"Ow," I say and try to push her back. She lets out a flurry of slaps on my head and shoulders. I am wearing dark blue jogging pants that are loosely held by a tied string. She pulls them down.
"Fucking hard on, you perverted fuck head. You're not a man you're a fucking girl. Married to a fucking girl. Can you believe it? You fight like a little faggot girl. I've got to show Bruce what his father is like."
"I summon up my my courage and jump to my feet. "No. You won't! I won't let you!" I block the door. As I stand and face her I am terribly self conscious of my huge hard-on pushing out my underpants.
Debbie comes flying at me scratching and clawing. Her finger nails dig into my upper arm and I am sure I am bleeding. With her other arm she grabs my pole-like cock and drags me across the room to the bed. "Get on the bed you dick head mother fucker little wimpy son-of-a-bitch girl!"
I feel tears rush to my eyes and I lay down on the bed. Debbie rips my underwear off and takes off her clothes.
She mounts me and squeezes my nipples very hard. "Ow, please stop," I say.
"You cry like a girl."
The pain is intense and I try to grab her hands by her wrists to pull them off, but she is leaning forward with her full weight and I cannot budge them.
"I married a weak fucking little girl. I want a real man. God I want a real man." She mounts my rock hard penis and begins moving."If I had a real man, he'd be the one on top filling me up with his manhood. Instead I have to be the fucking man because you're such a sissy."
All I can think about is the pain in my nipples which finally eases up as she gets seriously into sliding herself up and down on my penis.
"You have nothing to say for yourself?"
"If I try to say something you'll hurt me even more."
"Spoken like a true man," she says sarcastically. "I'm half your size, dick head."
"I try to reason with you."
"So you're saying I'm nuts? I'm crazy?" She grabs my throat and stops moving her hips so my cock is fully inside her.
"No, I didn't say that."
"I don't believe you."
"You're choking me," I say.
"I know what the fuck I'm doing. Aren't you man enough to do something about it?"
She pushes down even harder and I reflexively grab at her hands to pull them off. She punches at them and then slaps my face.
Partly out of fear, partly out of sadness and partly out of horror at the apparent end of my marriage, I begin to cry.
Debbie eases up on my throat and begins fucking me again. She laughs contemptuously. "So all the girl can do is cry?"
"I'm not a girl," I say through my tears.
She slaps me again. "You're not a what?" I say nothing. This is hell. I feel like I am losing my mind. "You're a girl aren't you? A little Shirley Temple?"
"Yes," I say, "I guess I am a girl."
"You're no man," she said. "What you are is a little pervert who gets off on humiliation."
"You can divorce me and then you'll be free of..."
"Don't worry asshole, I'm not going to waste more of my life with you."
She continues to slide back and forth on my hard penis. I stop crying and wipe my eyes with my hands. Her boobs sway back and forth in front of me. Suddenly she says, "I just realized something. The corselette you bought me for Christmas is really for you!"
"What?" I say. Every so often I give Debbie lingerie as a Christmas or birthday present, accompanied by a gentle suggestion that it would be good for the marriage - help add a little spice to our love making. Debbie wore the sexy corselette once and then put it in her drawer and never brought it out again.
"The fucking corselette you bought. That ridiculous thing." It is pink lace and Debbie looks a bit ridiculous in it, what with her big boobs falling out of the top and the fat in her waist being squeezed.
"You wear it," she says. "It'll help with your humiliation, dick head." She gets up and fetches the corselette from her dresser drawer and throws it at me hitting me in the face. "You hate the way I look and you buy this shit to cover me up so you can fantasize," she says. "You fucking wear it. You're the girl. You're the pathetic little bitch who should wear this."
"Debbie, be reasonable," I say. "I only bought it because, you know..."
"Put on the fucking thing." She comes toward me menacingly. I think about running from the room but I am naked and the kids might be up watching TV in the family room. I would still have to confront her later anyway.
"The girl in the marriage wears the corselette. You're the girl. Your wear it."
"It won't fit me."
"Bullshit," she says and I know she is right. I am fairly slender and the corselette will probably fit me.
Debbie is starring at me and I look down at the corselette in my hand. She gets up and comes around the bed and stands beside me. "You don't have a choice," she says. "You'll wear the corselette or I'll beat the living shit out of you, and you know I can do that. Step into it," she orders. When I do not respond she grabs the corselette out of my hand and whips me across the face with it. One of the dangling pink garters stings my cheek. "Ow," I say.
"If you don't get up and put it on this instant I'll make you regret the day you were born." I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. Debbie slaps me twice on the side of the head with her hand, "faster, you fucking dick head." I get up quickly. "Here," she says and hands me the corselette and I step into it and begin pulling it up my legs. My penis is as erect as it gets and I have to maneuver it around the corselette as I pull the pink lace covered garment past my hips to my waist. I position the bra cups in front and pull it all the way up. It is tight but does fit where it is supposed to, covering me from my breasts down to just below my navel.
"What a dainty fucking girl you are. Your son is just going to love seeing his dad like this."
"What?" I spit out.
"Lie down! she says. "I'm going to rape the fucking little girl in her corselette!"
"What did you say?" I say.
"Get down on the bed!"
"Don't you dare tell him! What good will that do? It'll only just hurt him."
"His dad is a fucking girl who likes to be humiliated. Its the truth. He has to know it!"
The thought of her telling Bruce about this sick episode is more than I can bear. "No way are you telling him. I won't let you. It's totally sick thing to do!"
The moment I utter the last syllable I know that I have only made things worse. Debbie's eyes which had begun to calm down a little now widen and start flicking back and forth again. "Don't ever talk to your man like that!" she says with some flecks of saliva on her lips. She comes at me with both hands flying. I hold up my hands to protect my face from a rain of blows. She slaps and punches me. I roll over into a fetal position with my arms over my head and sob.
"Fucking weak useless girl. How dare you talk to me like that!"
My penis is rigid and Debbie suddenly stops hitting me and reaches between my legs and grabs my penis. I yelp in pain and start apologizing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll never talk like that to you again!"
She holds the top of my hard penis. I feel a throbbing pleasure midst the pain. She yanks my penis up and shoves my legs aside and mounts me as before and gets back into fucking me. She rolls slowly back and forth and says, "we've been married 17 years. I thought I knew you. I've taken your shit for enough years to know you. I've been the brunt of all your jokes."
"You know that's not true. I never wanted to hurt you. You always laughed along with me."
She pinches my nipples again. "Don't lie to me faggot. You always want the kids to laugh at me so you appear to be better."
"Not true." She pulls my nipple harder and I gasp "owww!"
"Seventeen years I take this shit and then I find out that you're a fucking girl yourself. Fucking little coward. You're the one wearing the corselette. I'm going to leave you and get myself a real man. A man who I couldn't put into a corselette. A man I can respect. Not a sniveling little girl like you, with your perverted hard on." She stops dead in the middle of fucking me and gets off and stands up. "I'm getting Bruce to show him his real dad.
"Don't!" I say and get up. Still my penis shoots out and I try to hide it.
"Get back on the bed and lie down," she orders. I sit down. "Stay there. If you so much as think about taking the corselette off I'll break every bone in your body. She takes a step toward me.
"I'm getting Bruce." She takes a robe out of the closet and puts it on over her head.
"I can't let you do it. No matter what you do to me, I'm not going to let him see me like this." I stand up again.
Debbie comes over and stares at me. Before I can react she hits me in the upper lip with her clenched fist and I drop down onto the bed. I cover my head with my arms and cry in pain.
"Like I said you'll stay here dressed like that until I come back. You don't have any other choice. Either you end up in the hospital wearing your corselette so Bruce can see you in the stretcher, or I show him here where you can try to explain to him why you are a pervert.
I nod my head. She says, "pathetic." She turns and walks out of the room muttering, "where the fuck can I get a real man?"
I can accept a divorce. It is clearly the only option left between us. I am going to have a hundred black and blue marks the next day. I'll have to take sick leave. She is truly nuts. She would probably have killed me if there had been a knife in the room. And to fuck with Bruce's mind this way is inexcusable. Debbie appears at the door and shouts at Bruce who is just down the hall out of sight. "Here is something you've got to see. Take a look at your real father."
"Mom. I don't want to be involved in one of our stupid fights with dad."
"This isn't a fight. Its just your true father. He's a weakling, and a sissy and he dresses like a girl. Take a look!"
"No, mom."
Bruce is right outside the door just out of sight. Debbie stands in the doorway looking at me and turning to look at Bruce. "One peek, he's right here. Your dad the girl."
"You're sick!" Bruce yells.
"Take a look he's right here!"
"Mom. You're nuts! You're crazy!"
Debbie looks at me. "Get up and come here. Show your son the fucking girl you are."
Suddenly Bruce explodes in anger. "I hate you mom. You're a fucking weirdo. You should be put into a home. All dad ever did is try to stand up to my shit at school. He should. You should if you were a decent mom. You don't deserve such a nice husband. And I don't want to be part of your sicko game. Leave him alone. Leave me alone. Just get lost and get some help!"
Bruce screams the last part and turns and runs away and slams the door to his room.
Debbie comes back into the room. Without looking at me she takes a suitcase out of the closet and fills it with her clothes. I think of saying something to her, but I do not. She gets dressed and leaves. I hear her close the front door and drive off in her car. I notice that I am no longer hard. I take off the corselette and get dressed.
*************
Epilogue
Debbie divorces me and moves to another state. Bruce becomes a model student, and I, in the privacy of my own bedroom, spend many a night enjoying my corselette.
The end
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