The Bed
As soon as Susan saw the bed she knew exactly where the bed was going to go.
Here she was a divorced woman in her late 40s and had spent a number of years raising the kids, being married, doing the good housewife, mother and church goer that she was raised to be. After the divorce she had decided to be herself and had purchased a new house in a little development filled with older folks. A retirement area, there really weren’t that many kids around, and hers were now moved out, her son first (Russell doing the early 20s angst thing) and the last (her daughter Sarah) had just started University. Her life was now hers, save for the obligatory calls to relatives, the ex, her sister and her parent, both still alive thankfully.
Of course Susan could stand to lose some weight, but she was a mother, middle aged and divorced. Her hips were wide, her breasts large, skin was clear and creamy and her red brown hair bespoke her Irish heritage. She was the Venus of Villendorf of her neighborhood. Unlike her son Russel who was always average save in his charming sparkle or her red haired fiery daughter built like the proverbial gazelle. Neither of them seemed to inherit the thicker genes.
But they had left, she was what she was and now she was free to be herself.
So she had nested and made herself an environment at her house that was perfectly suited to her tastes. Always the type that marched to her own drum she had dogs as pets and giraffe’s as decorations. She often thought of herself as younger than her contemporaries, at least insofar as her acceptance of those around her and their quirks. Not like she didn’t have myriad quirks of her own for others to accept. She liked modern music, and despite being a larger woman would dance and sway like a 20 year old when a good beat hit her ears. Her former church goers would be appalled at such a thing. Mind you Mormons tended to be that way, especially in the southern states where their wiles held a stronger sway.
She had had to build a new life pretty much from scratch after the divorce. Through patience and perseverance she was building everything she wanted. A piece here, a piece there she put it together. Never in a hurry she did without certain things and forwent the convenience in order to get those things that would add to her personal space and her personal life, rather than just fill the empty spaces for convenience sake. She did the same with people. Those that were drags on her she had cut loose and those that added to her she pulled closer to herself. It was amazing to find how many people actually inhibited her from being herself rather than applaud her for being her own person.
She didn’t even have a proper bed, as she had been waiting for just the right item that would fit her. An air mattress over a regular mattress did the job until she could find exactly what she wanted.
And find it she did at an old estate sale that Susan was wont to attend.
There was always so much character to be found in such places and this estate was rather a good one to attend. The bed was large and imposing, rather masculine it exuded a strength that she found appealing, and identified as one of her own character traits. A strong woman. She knew that her female contemporaries would be intimidated by such a bed, but to her it was something that would reinforce her own strengths and was something to be conquered. She fell in love with it as soon as she saw it.
It was large and made of a heavy dense wood stained even darker so that it appeared to glimmer blackly even under the dust. It was the kind of heavy that spoke of craftsmanship and not just cheap wood thrown together. Her experience had shown her that there was heavy quality and heavy cheap and this bed exuded both quality and solidness. Carved with vines on the head and baseboard, the posts were large solid acorn shaped protrusions with a wide middle protrusion shaped like a large egg at the center of the headboard and the base board. Below the center point on the headboard was a carving like a family seal though she thought it might have been the face of a saint or somesuch carved into the wood. The ends were much like a 3 pointed crown with a slightly lower middle point. The base board was a mirror image of the headboard, but simply lower in profile. A beautiful piece that seemed lovingly maintained and Susan ,having done the antique thing for a few years, knew that this was an old bed and still in fantastic shape. Usually a bed that old would have been repaired or modified once the kids had carved a few initials over the years in its surface. But the bed gleamed like it was made yesterday and captivated Susan as soon as she saw it.
Of course she wouldn’t let her interest be too apparent. But she made surreptitious inquiries about the bed, and other items that she didn’t have an interest in hoping to get the bed for the proverbial song. Being a nurse didn’t mean she was rolling in money, she was frugal and worked two jobs (teaching and hospice work on weekends), but she had to have that bed.
She found out the bed was the bed of the former owner of the house a real nasty sort of fellow was what she found out by working the room. Died in the house of an exceedingly long illness in the bed itself. Which was a good thing for Susan. Being a nurse she didn’t care that someone had died in the bed, she had seen too many people pass on through working at a hospice to ever be bothered by the cycle of life, but it was something that she let drop in the room at the sale hoping that others wouldn’t be as accepting as she was of the bed. Although it didn’t actually help her cause that she appeared to be the only woman currently there other than the estate’s executor.
Death bothered people that were not acclimated to it. She knew that people would attach bad mojo to the bed were they to be aware of its history, so she made sure that everyone knew about it. Far from repulsing her, the bed intrigued her even more knowing that someone had died in it. Call it her fascination with the macabre or the fact the she was always trying to prove how capable she was. Besides, it was only a head board, foot board and frame. She’d sooner like to contract the plague than sleep on a mattress that had someone become deceased on it.
So between her working the rumor mill and chatting with the executor of the estate, she got the bed for much cheaper than even she had hoped. She almost clapped with glee when the price was agreed to. Check book whipped out and paid for, she looked smiling across the room at her new purchase.
‘When can you move it?’, the executor asked.
‘Well if I could get a hand I could tie the pieces into my SUV. The back won’t close, but I can rope the door almost closed and use a blanket to if that is all right’, she replied. Her hand stroked the head board soaking in the craftsmanship. She couldn’t wait to see it all set up. Her mind was already racing with ideas of accessories to the bed and where it would go in her large bedroom.
‘As long as you can get it out today’, she said. ‘Thing gives me the creeps.’
Susan looked at the executor a bit harsh. Already feelings of possessiveness were bubbling up. ‘It’s just a bed’, she said tersely. ‘Don’t worry, I will have it out of here today.’
She moved herself away to make he arrangements and hoping to recruit a strapping lad to help her with the promise of a few dollars.
She was giddy with excitement and somewhat to her surprise a little bit excited in a heated way. She hadn’t felt those particular pangs in awhile but she chalked it up to the great deal, the fabulous looking bed and how it would go in her bedroom.
She finally had it together.
The bed was perfect. A huge centerpiece of strength in the center of her bedroom. The headboard was against the north wall and 2 small end tables on either side of the bed were accenting the wood of the large behemoth in the center. Her sheets fitted well enough though she knew she would have to actually take in a queen sized set of sheets as the bed was slightly smaller than a queen but a fair bit larger than a double.
It had been no easy task getting it to her house and putting it together, but she had done so and prided herself that she had done most of the work. She had gotten a lad from the estate sale with the promise of a few dollars to load it into her vehicle. She pretended not to notice him ogling her rather large chest as she fretted over scratching or marking her new bed. Besides, she wasn’t above using some of her assets, what ones she had left of course, to further herself.
She repeated the same actions at home with two of the neighbors kids. They were teens, one of the few ones in the neighborhood and rarely there since they split time with their mother who lived a few miles away and only stayed with their father on weekends, her next door neighbor.
She had asked them sweetly when she saw they were tossing the football over in their yard when she got into the house. They helped of course and she paid them some money for their time. They didn’t ogle her like the boy did at the estate sale, and for some reason that she couldn’t quite put a finger on, she was rather frustrated about that. Perhaps she wasn’t their type, most seemed to like the bubble gum princesses of the day, but boys that age tended to look at anything with a few fun things sticking out of them. She made a mental note to see about getting some clothes that would help elicit help or attention. Nothing crazy mind you, but it had been her experience through life that a little cleavage did wonders for attention. No matter the ‘type’ of the individual. If she had a nickel for every time someone had talked right at her chest, well she would be a rich woman indeed.
She caught herself and her train of thought. She really was giddy today, but looking at the bed and running her hand down the smooth foot board was wonderful. It looked brand new and the bed for some reason was slightly warm to the touch. Blame that on the Arizona weather she would suppose. She ran her hand up and down the bed feeling the slight oil residue. At least she assumed it was oil and polish that had saturated the wood over the years. Whatever they had used to keep this bed looking so good was fused and soaked into the wood beautifully.
She wondered what it was that they used to keep it in such great shape?
But she was a bit tired and still a bit heated. The excitement of the day she supposed. A full length mirror was on the closet door and Susan took a look at herself lying on the bed. She looked a bit frazzled by the physical day, her red short set off the glints in her hair though and her jeans hugged her large thighs wonderfully. She really didn’t think about it all that often but looking at herself in the mirror, on the great big bed a bit mussed, she looked pretty good for a gal getting up there.
‘Why did those teens have to leave so soon?’, she thought and then caught herself guiltily. She never thought like that but for some reason, today, she was feeling quite salacious, and rather than feeling guilty about it she decided to accept it. She was an adult after all, a single and independent woman and she could think anything she wanted. She unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied them down her legs while lifting her hips. Her underwear slid with them and she tossed them almost to the laundry basket in the corner of the room. Her thick white thighs revealed and she cooed as she used her hands on herself below widening out so she could see herself in the mirror.
‘You know,’ she said aloud to her mirror. ‘You look damn good on this bed being a bad girl’. She smiled saucily into the mirror as she widened herself even more. One hand working at herself another feeling the smooth grain of the head board. Her hand danced below, her large lips below were wide and wet showing herself off in the mirror. She had always thought that her lips below were too large and unsightly. She had always been that way and thought herself strange, but in the mirror and on the bed she saw that wasn’t the case, they suited her perfectly.
She moaned and worked herself closing her eyes images flashed across her mind. The teens helping her over the end of the bed. Bent and clutching at the post as she imagined being hammered from behind. Her tongue snaking out to lick at the dark warm wood. She cracked her eyes and looking above her head to the saint’s image on the bed she smiled darkly licking her lips.
‘I bet you would love that’, she said to the image. She couldn’t believe what she was doing, but it just felt too damn good to stop. Too much pent up emotion and not enough release. She paused to take off her shirt and bra having them join her pants on the floor in the corner. Now free and clear she went to her hands and knees on the freshly made bed. Looking directly at the face carved on the bed with one hand below rubbing at herself, she let her mind go free staring into the eyes of the image carved there.
Her lips sucked greedily at her fingers as she worked herself. Rubbing hard then shoving inside. She snatched at her ample chest and pulled a rubbery nipple harshly to her mouth. Lips poised to accept she suckled and nibbled gently at first then harder and harder. Her hand worked furiously on herself below, her teeth gnawed on her nipple. Little ripples of pain from her tit and from below as more and more fingers were forced into her cunt. Anything to get herself off.
She pulled her hand from her dripping cunt with a small sucking sound. Breast still being chewed she fumbled with one hand to the night stand drawer pulling out the bottle of hand lotion she kept there. Reversing the bottle and pushing it below she rubbed the base around her moistened slit and then started pushing the large plastic container into herself. It wouldn’t fit. Nothing had ever prepared her for something like that to go inside her, but she did push out 2 kids, knew it was possible and so needed to get herself off. She wasn’t cumming and she needed to, there was no other option.
Not anymore.
She pushed and pushed the bottle hard into her cunt. Deep as it would go, then out. Lubricating it fully and trying anything to get it inside her. She wiggled and squirmed, breathed deep, tensed and moaned desperate to make it fit. She just knew it had to make her cum and she would do anything to make it happen.
Her mind was on fire as she pushed. Hard and harder. Her teeth ground into her nipple as she stared at the face carved into the head of her new bed. She drifted on waves of pain and pleasure trying harder and harder to feel. To reach that point that she knew was there.
‘Please’, she murmured to the face. ‘Please, I need...’. Her voice dribbled off into senseless mewlings and grunts as she pushed her cunt hard against the hand bottle.
She felt a shudder pass through her body as her cunt finally gave in to the assault. She twitched and moaned with one hand grasping at the head board and the other finally pushing the bottle deep into her. The relief and frustration she felt was palpable. She moaned with the sensation akin to swallowing something too large. She could feel it deep inside her. Her cunt throbbed in both pleasure and pain, her nipples puffy and swollen as she arched up pushing her ample ass out. She stared at the face in the headboard with pleading eyes.
‘Please,’ she begged at the image that was becoming the personification of her release. ‘Isn’t that what you wanted?’
So close. So incredibly close. The bottle working into her already hurting cunt she pushed it in and out. The pain and pleasure blended into something more, something Dark and twisted. She could feel even more Darkness rising like a Dark tide within her. Her cunt dripped around the bottle onto the bed as she pistoned the plastic in and out. Her hand clamped on the head board her large tits swayed with her penetration dancing forward towards the image then away.
‘Please’, she begged the image. She was coming to the realization that somehow it was the bed doing this to her, at least she was realizing it on a primal level. She wanted to stop, was trying, but it was so close. She had never done anything like this before, and now she couldn’t stop. She wanted to, but couldn’t. It was there and she knew when she made it there that it would be the most incredible feeling of her entire life.
She worked the bottle in and out of herself. Her hips bucking to help push at a higher pace. Her ass splayed her cheeks wide as she battered her cunt and she prayed for someone, anyone, to brutalize her ass like her cunt was being used. The neighbors, her ex, her son, the mailman, a random person. It didn’t matter it was the use that mattered. She knew that it was the key to her eventual release, and also the shackle that was set to bind her.
But she didn’t care.
Images flitted through her mind. Her ass spread for others to use the hole raw red and leaking Dark cum. Whoring herself to any and all. Working herself in dark rooms sucking the Darkness into herself more and more. Images of her ex husband simply using her like fuck meat, laughing as her son took a turn fucking her ass. Her father with Susan kneeling and bobbing her head in his crotch as he pulled her head down to swallow his cum. Walking her shift through the hospice and servicing the old and infirm patients there with everything she had, stroking them, licking them, letting them feel and paw at her body like the piece of meat it now was.
‘Please,’ she begged to the image. ‘Please. Anything. Please. Anything ...will do...’
Her mind suddenly snapped and a clear image lashed across her mind. As clear as if someone had stood beside her and talked clearly into her ear.
‘Give yourself to me. Freely’ it said.
She looked at the image on the bed. And knew. Images of an infirm man, lying in the bed stroking himself incessantly, mind fading into oblivion and only the Dark lust holding him. She saw women in the bed crawling like maggots over his flesh servicing his cock, licking his ass, feeding him, stroking him slavishly worshiping the Darkness that exuded from him. She saw rooms of flesh, flashes of Dark redness revealing the infernal pact the bed owner had made and the eternity trapped in the bed unable to satisfy the endless Dark that twisted through it.
The images of Susan clarified in her mind even as her hand pushed the bottle freely in and out of her now more than accommodating cunt.
Images of her family, friends, acquaintances and strangers abusing her twisted flesh. Her father pushing his cock deep into her cunt pawing at her ample chest as he bit and sucked the tongue in her mouth. Her legs pulling him in deeper and deeper feeling his seed shoot deep inside her as she moaned into him for more. She knew this was not a fantasy, but instead an image of the inevitable.
Images of her lying on her back skirt hiked and legs splayed wide in a dark and dirty alley. Shuffling unkempt shadows freely taking their turns using the meat that she now was and then moving along, only to have another unwashed cock forced into her mouth, ass or cunt in order to satisfy themselves. She knew this would come to pass.
She saw herself in the Darkened theater bent over the stained seats feeling the Dark masses take of her freely. Filling her in all openings, using her until red, raw and overflowing. Her mouth, whenever free, begging more and more use to her already over used body. She knew this would come to pass.
She saw herself lewdly servicing patients and doctors alike, making herself available to all, so long as she was being used like the good fuck meat she now was. Hands reaching under bed sheets to stroke, mouth descending to lick clean and service, feeling the hardness of them with her mouth as it should be used, seeing herself slip off her greens to ride vertical cock made that way by her tender ministrations. Of old hands reaching out during her work to feel and penetrate, to grasp and pinch, legs widening even as she smile to encourage more and more of such attention. She knew this would come to pass.
She saw herself inviting her son to the house and plying her Dark seductions on him. Slowly working herself for his gaze until his Darkness matched her own. Fucking her son and doing all the dark and twisted things he could only imagine all the while murmuring Dark platitudes into his ear as his cum flowed into the channel that spewed him forth. And she knew this would happen.
She saw her daughter on her bed, working her red haired cunt as furiously and as twisted as she worked hers now. Watching as she worked her red slight wider and wider. Images of the both of them face to face on the bed riding the posts as their tongues Danced in each others mouths, nipples worked and ragged. All to feed the growing appetite of the presence within the bed. And she knew this would happen.
It was the sexual energy that the bed needed. She was a conduit for that energy. What she did to herself fed the bed, the Darker her pursuits the greater the feeding for the bed. She could stop, and throw the bottle from her. Get off the bed, break it into kindling, burn it in the fire place or just throw it out, but her hand pushed the bottle deeper into herself, and she moaned in response.
‘That is what waits for you’ it said. ‘Just give yourself to me.’
Images flashed through Susan’s mind of whoring her daughter on the Dark bed, lines of men out the door, the neighbors, strangers, her landscapers, her father, all waiting to fuck her daughter even as her daughter’s belly swelled with darkness and her milky tits swung below. Susan imagined herself begging men to use her in the Darkest of ways.
She imagined standing in the doorway of a seedy motel, her tits on display, her cunt barely covered as cum dribbled down her bare legs. Beckoning the dark patrons of such an establishment into her twisted lair. Men walking into the room, door left wide and feeling one after another simply using her as she was meant to be used, smiling at the Dark.
She saw herself swaying obscenely down the street in whore clothes that would shame even the Darkest of sluts. The hard part of town bent over in alleys being used over and over. Then simply straightening herself and looking for more use.
She saw herself on her knees at the foot of the bed her mouth and hands hardening her son’s cock and pointing him at his sister’s pregnant cunt even as she started to lick her son’s ass as his cock pummeled his sister.
Her mind lapped up the depravity even as her cunt begged for release.
‘Yes’, she said. ‘I am yours. I am your slave.’
She rammed the bottle deep into her cunt as she felt the release finally give. Waves of energy blew through her mind and short circuited her senses as she shuddered and screamed out loud. Her skin felt sensation on every square inch as the waves rippled through her mind, down into her body and back up again. She couldn’t hear, couldn’t speak, couldn’t see a thing. Darkness and light flashed through her being and she lost complete control of herself. This was the moment that she had waited for, had wanted, her entire life.
She breathed. One breath. Then two. In and then out.
She heard a car pass outside the house as sound finally returned to her ravaged senses.
One breath. Another.
She cracked one eye to look. She was still in the kneeling position on the bed. She could see the face of the bed and a small smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth.
‘I understand, Master’. She said.
Her hand was cramped below her around the bottle. Most of it was still buried inside her. She felt the throbbing pleasure and pain still emanating from her brutalized hole. She smiled as she pulled it gently from her cunt, loving the gaping sensation she felt as the large lips dragged by the bottle.
Her right nipple was red and raw, not so much the left. But she smiled down at it and looked coquettishly at the face on the bed. ‘I want more Master’, she said.
Her hand was cramped on the head board and she pried it away taking great care not to mark her nails on the wood. Not that she thought she could, but it was the respect she owed to Him for owning her.
She turned and sat on the bed with her legs open and looking in the mirror.
‘Time to start Master?’ she asked.
‘Fuck yourself to death for me’, came the response through her mind.
She smiled Darkly even as her hand rubbed at her sore cunt thinking of the path set out before her. She needed some clothes, toys, everything. She stood and grabbed a bath robe from behind the bedroom door. She put it on with nothing below leaving the belt undone and her breasts and cunt showing.
‘Be right back Master’, she said walking towards the door hoping the teens were still throwing the football around. ‘I think I need more help in getting this bed moved.’
Susan walked out the door.