Lara Santiago - Menagerie

by Lara Santiago

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  She whirled at the apologetic tone of his voice. Her breasts, exposed to the sudden chill in the air, pebbled. Why was she so cold?

  “No. Of course not. I just thought you might like to change our regular routine a bit.” Her eyes couldn’t meet his. The truth was, she wanted to hurry and have sex with him before her mind strayed to someone else.

  “Why do I get the feeling that you want to hurry and get this over with, darling?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t you want me?”

  Standing nude before him, Valerie reached her hands up and stroked her breasts and nipples. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he watched her stroke and pinch herself. The fly of his trousers tented in reaction to her bold actions. That was new. She’d never seen Frasier with an erection until they got to bed.

  “I do want you.” His hands went to the fly of his trousers. Shockingly, he unfastened and unzipped his pants. He freed his cock and stroked his stiffening member one-handed. The very breath in her lungs stilled in astonishment. She’d expected to have to convince him to participate in her ‘shake things up’ evening. The prurient vision of Frasier with cock in hand, pumping his erection to full girth, was slightly unsettling. Perhaps it was a bad idea to shake things up.

  “I didn’t expect you to acquiesce so quickly. If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

  Frasier drilled her with a fierce stare. “Don’t be silly, darling. That’s what you’re here for, after all.” Pump. Pump. Pump. His cock seemed bigger than she remembered.

  Something was wrong.

  Even to shake things up a bit, Valerie would never be this forward with Frasier. Her initial plan had been to entice him through dinner with the fact that she wore nothing under her robe, not fling it off in the first second and flaunt her taut nipples. They never started with such aggressive foreplay and Valerie hadn’t intended to go so far so fast.

  On any other night with Frasier, once they did make it to bed, he practically had the lights off when they got down to the business of having sex.

  “I think you’re trying to change the subject.” Frasier didn’t seem to mind watching her play with her body. Something was really wrong, but she couldn’t make herself stop. She pinched and rubbed her nipples until they stood at attention. The tingle of arousal spun down to her clit as she stroked her own flesh.

  Feeling suddenly far removed from the action happening in Frasier’s room, Valerie heard herself say, “No. This is the subject. I came here to fuck you. Isn’t that what you want? I know you need sex. Here I am, ready to give it to you.”

  She never swore in front of Frasier. What was going on here?

  Tilting his head to one side, a never-before-seen leering gleam came into his narrowed, distrustful eyes. “Are you ready to give it to me, darling, or once I stick my cock inside your pussy, will you be thinking of him?”

  “Him?” She stopped touching her breasts and dropped her hands to her sides. Frasier absolutely never, ever said the word pussy.

  She had to be dreaming. But she never had dreams. Not here.

  Wake up. Wake up!

  Frasier crossed the room, stiff cock bobbing as if leading the way, to where she stood rooted to the floor still naked with her nipples protruding. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t stop him or the dream. Frasier put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed too hard. “Him. The one you always think about when you’re with me.”

  Alarm washed down her still frozen body. “I don’t think about anyone else when I’m with you.”

  “Liar.” Frasier’s fingers squeezed harder until his carefully trimmed nails pierced her flesh.

  This wasn’t like him. Always the epitome of gentle, he treated Valerie like she was spun glass any time he was in her presence.

  “You’re hurting me.” Valerie tried to pull away, but in what she sincerely hoped was a nightmare, Frasier held her fast to his body.

  His fingers dug into her skin cruelly as he leaned in and whispered, “Am I? Good, I’ll hurt you worse before I’m through.” Twisting around to stand behind her, Frasier maintained his vise-like grip on her shoulders and pressed his chest into her shoulder blades. His fully erect cock pressed into one butt cheek uncomfortably. Now that she couldn’t see his face, a wide swath of fear rushed down her body.

  Frasier bit into her earlobe painfully and murmured, “Let’s try something new, darling. How about I fuck you up the ass until you stop thinking about him? Would that work?”

  “No!”

  Please be a nightmare. Please be a nightmare.

  Valerie closed her eyes and thought about how to get away. Nightmare Frasier was angry and forcibly physical and not the calm, rational gentleman she’d come to know and adore. He was a quiet lover, not experimental. He barely did oral sex and only on rare occasions when she asked for it. She’d only been on top twice in all this time with him and even then only because she’d insisted. He was most comfortable in the missionary position. She suspected he didn’t even know what anal sex was let alone want to do it.

  Valerie’s rational mind tried to cope with the realization that logic wasn’t going to work here in this ethereal nightmare world.

  Wake up. Please, wake up!

  Suddenly, there was a pounding knock at his door and Frasier screamed, “Come in, boys, I’ve got her pinned and ready to be punished.”

  The lights went out, drowning her in pitch black and Valerie let loose a scream from the depths of her soul.

  Frasier, still hugged up close behind her, laughed maniacally. He removed one hand from her shoulder and brushed her butt several times as if priming her to be fucked. A sudden shaft of light came from an opened door a short distance away. The silhouette of another familiar figure emerged into the framed light. It looked like Dominick, although she couldn’t distinguish his face in the darkness. He stood as if with arms crossed and watched her struggle with Frasier.

  In the next moment and with a blur of movement, Valerie was immobilized further, held aloft by several arms she couldn’t see. Someone was behind her. Frasier whispered in her ear, “Get ready. Get set. Go!”

  A burning sensation centering between her ass cheeks prompted her to release another scream from the depths of her frightened core. Mouth wide, Valerie screamed in terror at the violation, until Johnny, holding his swollen dick, crossed her view. “Suck me. Suck me hard, bitch or I’ll punish you.” She tried to turn to the side, but he moved with her and shoved his cock brutally into her mouth. He didn’t stop pushing until it rested at the back of her throat and she gagged.

  Another dick from someone she couldn’t even see penetrated and filled her pussy. She heard loud sweaty grunting all around her. She was in a sea of sweating, unidentified bodies that sounded like the men in her life, only they were raping her. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t defend herself.

  Please wake up. Please. I’m so sorry.

  Valerie woke with a start and flung herself forward into a sitting position from her pillow. The memory of her nightmare dissolved slowly as she gasped for breath and fought panic. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped them away with shaking fingers. It had seemed so real.

  She had been having a nightmare, right? It was over now, right?

  Beside her, she saw Frasier’s tousled hair as he stirred against his pillow, and Valerie slid away from him to the edge of her side of the bed as the viciousness of the dream permeated her once again.

  Was she really awake?

  Pushing up on his elbows, Frasier turned a sleepy-faced frown her way and mumbled, “What’s wrong, darling?”

  Valerie trembled uncontrollably. The nightmare had seemed very real and she wasn’t convinced she wasn’t still ensconced in it.

  “Are you mad at me?” she whispered. Her frightened and trembling tone was telling.

  “What?”

  “Do you hate me for…?” She’d b
een about to confess her love for Dominick and admit that she’d been spending every moment with him. Damn, she hadn’t even told Dominick she loved him. But she did. Valerie clammed up and scooted further away from Frasier. One cheek of her butt hung off the edge of the bed. She’d be on the floor if she moved any further away.

  Frasier narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Darling, I don’t hate you for any reason.” He twisted his body beneath the sheets until he sat up. Resting a shoulder against the headboard, he rubbed his face vigorously, crossed his arms like he did when he wanted to solve a problem and asked, “Now, what’s this all about?”

  Valerie opted not to explain her feelings for Dominick, although if she could, she’d run and beat his door down until he held her in his arms and convinced her everything would be okay.

  Instead, she cleared her throat and whispered, “I had a bad dream.”

  Nodding, Frasier asked, “What was it about?”

  She absolutely did not want to tell him about this awful nightmare. “I don’t remember,” she lied. “Just that I was scared.”

  Frasier smiled a friendly smile and opened his arms, as if silently inviting her to hug him with a promise of soothing her fears. His expression was sweet and caring, but the memory of his personality change from the dream flooded her brain. She flinched away from his reach, lost her balance and flipped off his bed, landing on her ass against the hardwood floor. She sprang to her feet and used the wall to help hold her up. It was time to go.

  Valerie couldn’t look at Frasier before she rushed out of his room, even as he called out in alarm. She bolted out of his room and ran down the long hallway to her bedroom. She closed the door, checked the lock and went straight to the bathroom. Glancing at her wall clock along the way, she realized she’d only been asleep for three hours before the nightmare had woken her.

  The air shower wasn’t as comforting as what a real hot water shower would have been, but it was better than nothing. She went through four cycles and then curled in a ball on the floor and cried off and on until morning, unable to close her eyes to rest or even think about sleep. After five hours of staring at the wall in deep contemplation of her previous evening in between bouts of sobbing over her fear of the horrible dream, the lights in the bathroom flashed.

  Breakfast time.

  She had to leave the bathroom soon or an annoying buzzer would sound throughout the house. The bathroom sink had a small reserve of drinking water that she splashed on her face for courage.

  Unsure of how she would face her mates as anxiety pelted her nerves, she took several deep breaths and focused on just getting through the morning meal. She looked in the mirror and grimaced. Even makeup wouldn’t cure her puffy red eyes.

  For as much as she longed to see Dominick to secure the comfort she needed, she didn’t want to explain why she looked like crap. Once in the kitchen, for better or worse, Dominick had already left for work early. He’d left a note on the table so she wouldn’t worry.

  A bad dream easily explained her puffy eyes to the others. Frasier hung around longer than usual and tried to catch her eye all through breakfast, but she refused to engage in private conversation, even the non-verbal kind. When Frasier acted like he would stay to ask about the night before, Valerie pointedly requested that Mark remain behind so she could speak to him privately.

  Mark was her date for tonight, but more than anything, she didn’t want to take a chance that Frasier would be able to coax the truth out of her. His wounded expression as he left hurt her heart worse than memories of the dream.

  “So what happened to you last night?” was Mark’s first question.

  She cleared her throat. “I had a terrible dream.”

  “Must have been a monstrous bad one to make you so…” He paused and glanced nervously at her eyes once more. “Upset.”

  “It was.” She looked away. She didn’t want to explain the dream to Mark either.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” he asked politely.

  Valerie was at a loss for words. She just hadn’t wanted to talk to Frasier. “Nothing. It’s not important. I’ll see you tonight.” Valerie forced a smile and while Mark narrowed his lids momentarily in suspicion, he didn’t press her.

  Of the five, Mark was probably the most intuitive of her moods and feelings, second only to Johnny. But Mark was more like her best friend. He understood her without the need for words. He exited their home without another word and earned her eternal gratitude for knowing when to back away slowly and not press for details she wasn’t ready to reveal.

  Left alone, Valerie hid in her room staying well away from the living room and the sliding glass doors. She didn’t want to take a chance on seeing Daisy. They didn’t have any plans today, but Valerie knew that Daisy had some sort of sixth sense where she was concerned. If Daisy were to see her moping around, she’d be over with hot tea and a list of questions before Valerie could say, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Curled beneath her covers, she contemplated the idea of asking Goldie and the crew if nightmares were a sign of something dire, but figured they’d blame her or her extra time with Dominick. Either that or they’d invent some other rule she’d broken. Her punishment would be worse nightmares to teach her a lesson about following the rules, so she stuffed the guilt down and reevaluated her extra time spent with Dominick and whether it should continue.

  Tonight she was with Mark, tomorrow was Johnny and then the next night was Hauser. Perhaps the nightmare would fade. Then again, perhaps if she cut back on her extra time with Dominick and spent some time alone, she could gain some perspective.

  There were no easy answers. Return Day had never seemed so far away as it did at this moment. What a difference a day made. This time yesterday, she’d been so full of optimism.

  One thing she decided for certain was having Dominick gone before coming out looking like crap this morning was definitely a good thing.

  Unlike Mark, he likely wouldn’t have departed without a carefully outlined explanation.

  Chapter 13

  255 until Return Day

  The ‘fucking’ nightmare, as Valerie referred to it, continued sporadically over the next three months. It was always the same. The dialogue, the setting, the participants, the panic, the darkness, the shaft of hopeful light dashed when one silhouetted figure watched, arms crossed in anger. The pain of the humiliation of being violated by men she knew in her heart would never harm a follicle on her head endured.

  Every single fucking time.

  After the first incidence, Valerie had convinced herself it would never come again, until a few days later she’d woken to see Hauser’s stricken face. She’d backed away from him in horror, mumbled that it was a bad dream and raced to her room to shower and cry. Spending the day after curled in the fetal position hiding under her covers didn’t help much in the long run.

  Knowing it was only a bad dream didn’t help at all. Not even when she came to recognize the scenario. A knock on a door. Frasier answered. And then the ‘fucking’ nightmare ensued. She woke, ran from whatever mate she happened to be sleeping with as her heart pounded wildly in her chest and allowed the fear to promptly cripple her for the entire day afterwards.

  Valerie never knew when the nightmare was about to pop up. Sometimes days would go by with nothing. Sometimes she’d have the bad dream four days in a row.

  She couldn’t stop it, she couldn’t prepare for it and she couldn’t make herself tell any of the men in her household what the dream was about or why it was happening. The pattern was consistent. She never dreamed when she was alone. She’d never had the nightmare and run from Dominick. And she didn’t want to. They all tried to discuss it, but she refused. Fearing she’d accidentally say the wrong thing and end up confessing, Valerie remained stubbornly silent. She convinced herself that revealing the horrible dream would only worsen the stability of their household and the precarious relationships therein.

  Breakfast had become a chore t
hat all of them wanted to get through as soon as possible. Valerie put the food out, silently nursed a cup of coffee while they ate and refused to look at anyone. Lately, Dominick missed all of the morning breakfasts, anyway. She was glad because she didn’t know what she would do if he demanded she confess. She likely couldn’t keep secrets from him. So she avoided being alone with him.

  Valerie hated how the recurrent nightmare impacted her extra private time with Dominick. Unable to control or understand the pervasive nightmare, she crawled inside herself in retreat. Most days she tried to sleep during the day so she could stay awake at night to fulfill her obligations.

  The precious time with Dominick went back to just twice a month, like the others.

  He never asked why. Not even on the subsequent nights they were together for his turn. That he never questioned why they weren’t together on her free days anymore bothered her very deeply. More than Valerie was willing to admit out loud. On the other hand, she was grateful not to have to explain why things were so tense and screwed up in her mind.

  She suspected saying the words to the dream aloud would end any possible harmony and patently refused to discuss the problem with anyone. Not even with Daisy.

  Valerie half expected Goldie and the gang to call her in and at least ask why she was back to the regularly scheduled sexual rotation, but they didn’t interfere. They had probably cheered and done a high five, happy dance in the high committee chamber when she went back to the authorized routine. More likely, they didn’t care.

  Even with her self-imposed time diet from Dominick, he was the only one always on her mind. She missed him desperately, but decided that the time away was the best plan for her sanity.

  One other aspect of the ‘fucking’ nightmare, which Valerie tried not to over analyze, had to do with the fact that it hadn’t occurred on any night when she’d slept with Dominick. Part of the reason for her retreat away from him was to keep her demons at bay.