Chapter 13

I instinctively curved when he removed the clothing off me and placed me on the bed. I swiftly gripped his shoulders as he leaned against my body after unbuttoning, half-ripping his shirt. I lusted after him once more. My entire body was burning. When each cell could perceive everything a hundred times better, it gave off an effect similar to being high on narcotics.

I can't recall how long we were there or how many times we changed positions. The only thing I could recall was the intense heat and longing I was experiencing. I was so horribly enamored with him that I could feel his hands, his lips, his tongue, and the entirety of his body. My inside excitement was glistening and becoming stronger. Nothing existed for me at that wonderful time; I didn't feel his movements, thrusts, or voice. He and I simply wanted him to keep going. We were moving like if we had known one other for a very long time, and it appeared that we had united as one.

"Wait... Wai-t... Wait!" I felt the intense emotion start to well up inside of me, overflowing into an irrational urge to pee. "If you go on, I'll wet the bed!"

I spoke in sporadic, raspy tones. He didn't stop, though.

He wheezed, placing my dress beneath me, "Then wet the dress."

My body cramped violently, and I was knocked over by a massive, unexpected orgasm. The hot flood of sperm and urine sprayed onto the dress as I started to shake. My body was being rolled over by the climax as I yelled.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" I cried out in agony, feeling as though a fine thread was pulling everything from inside my squeezing body outside. "FUCK!!!"

My limbs tingle and go numb, and I fall over in an orgasmic jerk. I went insane.

***

It was already late morning when I woke up. On the bed, Ranold Hamilton had me in a close embrace. There was no more loud music or people's voices outside. My body ached from weakness. I then felt a warm breath on my neck.

I muttered, "Damn," realizing that Ranold Hamilton and I were once again sharing a bed.

When my husband inhaled deeply and shifted to the opposite side, I crept forward a little. I sat down on the bed. Naked and shagged. Again. I looked back at my husband and noticed red scratches on his back.

'Fuck!' I swung my hands to my chest and swiftly turned away. 'Did I scratch him? No... No, that can't be true... I need to drink some water to refresh my memory of what happened yesterday.'

I dragged my dress to me after spotting it at the foot of the bed. It smelt awful. The smell of urine made me shudder, and I smacked my nose.

"Shit..." I murmured under my breath when I noticed anything on the opposite side.

As I pulled the white wad of cloth to me, I stumblingly rose up while leaning against the plush mattress. It seemed to be my husband's shirt. I didn't care whose the cloth was; I just pulled it over my hands and looked for some buttons to fasten them. I was walking a little wobbly to the door while petting the unkempt shirt.

The house was incredibly silent. I walked downstairs. There were a few people there, mostly young boys and girls with a few middle-aged men. I went into the kitchen to get a drink. I drank it all at once after filling the glass with tap water. I heard a car outside. It was fading away. I refilled the glass and drank it. I took a few minutes to stand there and stare out the window at the brilliant blue sky while attempting to recall what happened the night before. But everything appeared to have been erased and saved in a corner of my mind.

I sighed, realizing that certain things were never meant to be recalled. I returned upstairs after placing the glass there. Just as I was about to take the last steps, I paused after hearing what sounded like a gunshot. My ears didn't make sense to me. When I heard the door opening, I quickly clenched the rails and went upstairs. The chilly rifle barrel on my temple caused me to instantly freeze as I was on the second floor. I slowly turned to gaze to my right and was startled to see a man putting his fingertip to his lips. My entire body trembled a little bit. I could feel the barrel on my forehead after he cautiously raised my arm and slowly turned to face him. He had nothing to murder me for, so I raised my hands to show him that. My eyes started to well up with tears.

I took a little step back after being slightly pushed back by the man with the gun. He also took a tiny step before pushing me once more. I complied. He could see my trembling fingers, and I knew it. I was aware of how sluggish and little my steps were, but it seemed he didn't care. I believed that once we entered the room and he saw that I had nothing to do with him, he would release me. I had no idea who he was. I'd never seen him before.

My heel flinched as I took a step back and felt the door open. The man motioned at me to continue walking as he slowly opened the door. I heard water flowing into the bathroom. My husband was taking a shower. I felt a hot tear start to fall down my face as I stared in horror at the unknown man.

The man persisted in pushing me forward till I ran into a bad sitting at it. I carried on as he gave a small nod. I felt suddenly exposed as he spread my clamped legs apart. The moment the gun passed over my lips and down my nose, I violently shook. I swallowed out of panic as he slid the barrel along my chapped lips.

With a quick glance down at my body, he said quietly, "Undo."

My fingers shook as I complied and started to unbutton the shirt. I looked down while squinting. I suddenly noticed my husband standing behind the door, close to the wall.

"Good," the man remarked roughly as he pulled back my shirt and stripped my body.

I had to lean on my elbows as he again pressed the barrel to my forehead. My neck, chest, and then my nipple was rubbed by the icy pistol as it moved down my body. I winced as I felt another tear start to fall down my cheek. My husband was in the same room when I closed my eyes, and I knew it. He didn't do anything while he saw the other man mistreat me. The man started to press the barrel across my nipple to enlarge it. When the pistol slid down my tummy, I cried out in an abrupt moan.

***

In the position when the black King was being checked by the white Queen, Ranold Hamilton said, "Let's start with the basics. "Take note of the condition on the board. Checked by the White Queen. The game's rules inform us that the King is capable of capturing the White Queen while evading checking. But…" He indicated the bishop in white. "There is a problem since the bishop is defending the White Queen. The black King cannot win in that circumstance, hence checkmate results."

***

As the black King between the stranger and his icy gun, I was taken prisoner. I was helpless, but I didn't understand why Ranold Hamilton didn't move along with me. He was there, and I knew it. I could sense him. I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye.

The man quietly lowered the gun to my penis before saying abruptly, "I will fuck you. I then allow your husband to see it. The last thing Ranold Hamilton will remember in his life will be your crying face because I will shoot a bullet into his head as I am fucking you."

Then, while observing my trembling insides, he pulled my delicate skin off after giving me a barrel to the asshole.

That's it, baby," he said, pressing the barrel on my rectus. "Shrink your fucking ass for me before I put my huge dick inside."

He pressed the trigger on my forehead as he started unzipping his pants, and I started crying. I felt like something had been torn apart inside of me when I saw his firm cock. I instantly realized that he could fuck me there and then. He pushed me to the bed with his hand, dropped the gun, and shoved his dickhead into my asshole. I started bawling. For a brief while, I sensed him inside of me before I realized I was being fucked by a total stranger. When he abruptly pushed me, I saw my husband with the gun on the man's nape. The shot was released.

My husband immediately firmly grabbed my mouth with his palm, and I shivered, sobbing through my shut lips. He lifted me by my arm as he drew the guy away. Desperation filled me. I was dying to howl. I felt his dickhead enter me, I was almost raped, and I was defamed. In spite of my painful tears, Ranold Hamilton continued to tightly squeeze my mouth. He pushed my back to his body, and I grasped his arm, holding into his skin with my claws. I was furious with him. I was indignant. I wanted to punch him with all my strength and run as far as I could.

As we approached Jane in the hallway, she muttered, "Ranold, I heard a gunshot."

My husband nodded. Jane was dressed in a little red silk robe. She welcomed us inside by opening the door to her room. She kept quiet. She gave me an odd look of disdain before leaving the room to use the restroom. Ranold Hamilton dragged me to the bed, sat on my hips, and then abruptly squeezed my neck.

"What do you think you're doing?" He hissed as he violently pushed me and struck my forehead with the barrel. "Who do you fucking think you are?"

I was sobbing beneath him, my hands clinging to his arm.

He murmured, "You are mother fucking Hamilton," each syllable booming loudly and firmly in my face with raw wrath. "Nothing in the world could protect you more effectively than that name. What do you wish for? That someone will constantly stand by your side to defend you?"

He took hold of my hand and pointed out the finger that had his ring on it.

He continued, "This is not simply a ring. "This is my wedding ring! You ARE my husband. That's you, Olivier Michel Hamilton. I didn't give you my last name to catch you jiggling around like a bitch, though."

At last he stood up and placed the gun on the bed. He was more incensed than I was. I cupped my palms to my chest and sobbed silently. In order to avoid seeing him any longer, I closed my eyes. I was done listening to him. I no longer wanted to get to know him. At last, he got to his feet and left me alone. He silently left the room after checking the pistol. I bit the blanket with my teeth as I twisted to my side and yelled into it inaudibly. I sank to my knees on the bed in agony. I wanted to cry so hard that everyone on Earth would be able to hear me. I couldn't, though. I simply couldn't. Hearing some gunshots downstairs made me shiver. On the first floor, I heard someone yell and shout. I then heard the cars driving away.

Jane helped me sit on the bed and said, "Let's go, stand up. Take this. This is from my wardrobe. Change your clothes in the restroom."

While Jane spoke, I went to the restroom. I received a sweatshirt and leggings from her. I put them on with shaky hands. I took a look in the mirror when I was dressed. Red eyes, matted hair, and smeared makeup. For the first time, I began to cry frequently and loudly before abruptly ceasing. The words my husband had said were still echoing in my head as I looked in the mirror at myself.

'What do you wish for? That someone will constantly stand by your side to defend you?'

'Nothing in the world could protect you more effectively than that name.'

'Who do you fucking think you are?'

I muttered to my reflection, "You are Olivier Michel Hamilton. Olivier Michel... Hamilton."