"He doesn't have a mother. I don't have a wife. You don't exist."
J.R. held his head in his hands and let the pangs of guilt for his cruelty wash over him. You're out of line, J.R., his brother's voice echoed in his mind. Bobby was Sue Ellen's eternal defender.
The sky had faded to a dull shade as the day drew to a close and J.R. said a silent prayer that it was almost over before he retreated inside the house. All inhabitants sought solace in the privacy of their respective suites, yet J.R. suspected the bleak emptiness would be a permanent fixture. He poured himself a Bourbon neat, wearily climbed the staircase and made a beeline for John Ross' bedroom. Quietly, he opened the door to discover the little boy's tiny body curled into his mothers.
"J.R.," she whispered from their son's bedside, and there was audible terror in her voice. Sue Ellen braced herself for a repeat of the verbal whiplash his fury awarded her earlier. She had bolted from his brutality until she reached the perimeter of Southfork, the site of the car crash that resulted in Mickey Trotter's death, and the memory of her brother-in-law halted her tracks. Why God afforded her the fortune of survival above Bobby was beyond her scope of comprehension, yet she did understand it would be foolhardy to fumble the second chance.
J.R. silently withdrew from the doorway and Sue Ellen sealed her eyes shut, thankful he hadn't physically snatched her from the bed and thrown her out the door. With a tender kiss to her son's forehead, she crawled out of the bed and mustered the nerve to follow J.R. into their marital bedroom. He lay in wait, the silhouette of his broad shoulders at the French patio doors which led onto the terrace, and a stray moonbeam was all that illuminated the room. "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear earlier." He sounded less furious, at least.
"I couldn't leave. John Ross needs me," she replied, and hesitantly added, "You need me."
J.R. vocally sneered at the sentiment and threw back the final remnants of Bourbon in his hand. "It's a little late to play the dutiful wife."
"I know I've disappointed you," Sue Ellen shut the door and nervously leaned back onto its panel, one hand curled around the doorknob in case a hasty exit should be required. "I'm sorry." Her husband discarded the empty glass and rewarded her with a disinterested expression. The turn of his heels was an invitation to plead her case further and she dared to close the physical distance between them, "Let me take care of you."
The faint hint of desire in her voice stirred a similar emotion within him. He always wanted her - even when she betrayed or despised him. Blackout drunk, she was still the most beautiful woman in Texas.
She cautiously coiled her arms around him and buried her face into the crook of his neck. He stood motionless and he didn't bother to return the embrace, his arms locked to his side. "Sue Ellen…" The warmth of her breath, as she wordlessly hushed him and ran a hand into his hair, sent a shiver down his spine.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you." Her lips planted an array of fine kisses from his neck upward, until her nose nuzzled his and their eyes met for the first time. "Punish me."
He instinctively recoiled and removed himself from her embrace. The way they made love had always been gentle, bar one or two exceptions, and even those were merciful in comparison to his sexual tendencies with other women. Sue Ellen was too delicate to withstand the depths of his carnality. "It's late," he dismissively cleared his throat and situated himself on the foot of the bed.
Undeterred, Sue Ellen descended to her knees and gently massaged the inside of his right thigh with her thumb. Slowly but surely, the palm of her hand slid upward until she could feel his partial erection; it bolstered her to reach forward and unbuckle his belt. The only noise to be heard was the zipper of his trousers, followed by the quiver of her own breath when his swollen member sprung free. Sue Ellen chewed her bottom lip as she fondled him and J.R. held her eye for every stroke. "I deserve to be punished."
She traced the tip of her tongue from the base of his cock and steered the head into her mouth. The combination of her lips enveloped around him and the way her breasts were exposed beneath the silk robe devastated him, and J.R. tilted his head back. "Damn," he audibly exhaled, affected by her technique.
Sue Ellen deepened enough to feel him penetrate the back of her throat before she reluctantly removed him from her mouth, inch by inch. She hitched her slip up, straddled his hips and proceeded to rock back and forth along his shaft, so that he sensed her arousal. "I want you to hurt me," she repeated her earlier rhetoric in a breathy voice. "You want to hurt me, too."
J.R. seized the cheeks of her derriere, vaulted to his feet and abruptly launched Sue Ellen onto the bed. She shuddered somewhat as he loomed above her. It was difficult to decipher whether his eyes darkened with lust or malice when J.R. freed the belt entirely from his waist and his eyes travelled the reckless curves of her body. "Turn over," he ordered, his voice low in decibel and tone. Sue Ellen abided by his law and felt her stomach flutter when her husband coiled the accessory in his hand.
She winced as the leather cracked upon the flesh of her backside. Once, twice, three, four times… and every whip exposed the extent of his ire. "J.R.," she whimpered, her skin a blotchy red from the assault.
"Shut up." J.R. slammed her face into the sheets by the force of a hand upon the nape of her neck. He swiftly kicked off both boots and removed his pants, naked from the waist down, and roughly entered her. Her cry out was muffled into the blue satin but J.R. could assimilate the pain he had caused her by the way her hands clawed at the material, and it offered him mild satisfaction. He did want to hurt her and this is what she had asked for; him to unleash his wrath, punish her for the humiliation and torment her actions had caused him. "What's the matter, darlin'? Isn't this what you wanted?" J.R. growled and viciously pounded his wife at a slow tempo to increase her discomfort. Ordinarily, he explored her body and set her every nerve on fire first but it was different this time. It wasn't about her pleasure anymore.
J.R. encircled an arm around her front, her breasts locked in the nook of his elbow, and reeled her back into his chest while he continued to thrust himself deep inside from behind. "Hit me," Sue Ellen pleaded between shaky breaths, as his hot breath fanned her left earlobe. Without hesitation, he struck her face with an open palm and proceeded to backhand the other cheek.
He snatched the tie draped around his collar and shoved it into her mouth, in order to stifle her moan. Both arms pinned behind her back, Sue Ellen was powerless to his perversions and it became apparent that the self-destructive demon inside of her liked it that way. She released a whine of pleasure and J.R. sunk his teeth into her shoulder; the harder she strained to escape his assault, the more ruthless he became and Sue Ellen clenched her own teeth into his tie in an attempt to bear the pain. "Turn around," he eventually demanded.
Once she swivelled to face him, J.R. tore the straps of her slip off of her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Sue Ellen withdrew from his intensely fixed eye on her wholly exposed body. "J.R. -" He hauled her body back into his arms, hooked her knees over his arms and bounced her slowly up and down his manhood. "Oh God…" Sue Ellen trembled and the sharp tip of her nails threatened to claw his back.
"Shut up," J.R. panted as he haphazardly removed his shirt and propelled them into the nearest wall. She ached to kiss him, hold him until his sadness went away but J.R.'s hand clamped her jaw and forced her lips from his face. With every buck of his hips, her head smacked against the wall and he quickened his pace.
J.R. switched positions multiple times, always dominant and intended to defile. Finally, he maneuvered them to the bed, her body restricted beneath the weight of his, his breath heavy and laboured. "Punish me…" Sue Ellen steered his hands to her neck, so close to sweet rapture.
J.R. clamped both hands around her throat and restricted her breath, while he squeezed every inch of himself inside her. The pressure applied intensified Sue Ellen's euphoria until she climaxed over him and the flood of her ecstasy drove J.R. wild. No woman he had ever known - and he had known plenty - enjoyed being debased and degraded the way she did. He balled his fist in her hair and rammed into her one final time. "Fuck," he collapsed on top of his wife, his face nestled into her bosom and Sue Ellen tenderly stroked his back.
"J.R. -"
He slowly pulled out of her and recoiled from her affection. She had already started to bruise and there were at least two obnoxious bite marks evident to the naked eye. "I'm sorry," he sounded calm and contrite - her punishment had been the release he needed.