Corrupted, Part 2

This fictional account contains adult language and explicit sexual themes.  If
such language and themes offend you, please do not read further.  The persons
and events described in this work are purely fictional.  Any similarity to
actual persons or events is strictly coincidental.  Copyright 2002 by
SSTORYMAN.  All rights reserved.  Permission is hereby granted to reproduce
this story in any form and for any purpose as long as this notice is
reproduced and no financial remuneration is received, directly or indirectly,
by the person reproducing or using it.

CORRUPTED

2.	Gwen Begins to Squirm Out.

   At six on Saturday night Connie came home and announced she was going out
for the evening with friends.  She literally reeked of smoke when she entered
the house after work.  But she wore a big smile.  She clearly felt good.  Gwen
remembered why.  She, too, used to feel that way after smoking at parties.
After Connie left to meet her friends, Gwen retreated to her bedroom to read
her Bible once more.

   Sunday morning meant adult Sunday School and then the church service.  Gwen
put on a Sunday dress and, Bible in hand, prepared to leave for the Baptist
Church.  Connie was on the porch, smoking and reading the Sunday paper.  Gwen
stuck her head out the back door.

   "Are you sure you don't want to come?"

   "Thanks, Gwen, but no.  They don't want sinners like me in the house of
God," she cracked.  "I'll stay here and read the paper.  I'll probably watch
Meet the Press and the Sunday morning news shows.  I might get together with
an old high school girlfriend for brunch later.  But you have a good time at
church.  Okay?"

   Gwen grimaced.  "Okay."

   Driving to church, Gwen felt more than a little jealous.  She loved slow
mornings like the one Connie would have.  In the church parking lot, she saw
the sign with the sermon title.  "Living In A Wicked and Perverse Generation."
She sighed.  Hellfire and brimstone awaited her.  Somehow, it didn't sound
nearly as attractive as sitting on the back porch reading the paper!

   By the time Gwen got home that afternoon, Connie was gone.  She puttered
around the house awhile, then retreated to her bedroom for a brief nap.
Getting up, she went to the family room to switch on the TV.  Football was on.
If Don was there, he camped out in front of the TV to watch the NFL all
afternoon.  Gwen didn't care much for football, but seeing it on reminded her
that she missed him.  Even if he was pretty overbearing, she still loved him.
She sighed and wandered into the kitchen to fix some soup for a late lunch.

   Something caught her eye.  On the counter was a half empty pack of
cigarettes.  Connie left them behind when she went to brunch.  She looked
closer.  "Marlboro Lights 100's" was prominently emblazoned on the white pack
with the gold trim.  She smiled.  It was the same brand she and her friends
smoked in high school during her rebellious period.

   As she fixed her soup, she repeatedly caught herself looking at the
cigarettes on the counter.  For years she hadn't thought about smoking, but
Connie's indulging now made her think about it again.  Connie was right; she
_did_ enjoy smoking in high school.  It was dumb, undoubtedly, and probably
sinful, too, but she'd liked it anyway.

   She sat at the kitchen table.  Finishing her soup, she brewed coffee.  Many
in their church looked down on coffee, but she and Don ignored that taboo.
They both loved coffee.  Smelling the pot brewing made her think of Connie's
cigarettes.  She used to love a cigarette with coffee.  It was a delicious
combination!

   "Gosh, what am I thinking?"  She snapped herself back to reality.  This was
insane; she hadn't smoked a cigarette in years!  She was 23; she was no longer
a dumb teenager.  Smoking would be stupid.  It'd make no sense.  And the
preacher said it was sinful.  But she couldn't shake the idea.  Finally, in
desperation, she left the kitchen to drink her coffee in the family room by
the TV, away from the Marlboro Lights 100's on the kitchen counter.

   Connie got home at four thirty, and blithely burst into the room with a
grin.  "Howdy, Gwen," she announced.  "Did you have a nice time at church this
morning?"

   "Yeah, I guess," she diffidently replied.  "I went to Sunday School, and
then to the main service.  It was pretty ordinary.  You've been there.  You
know.  Hellfire and brimstone."

   "Oh, yes," Connie smiled.  She seemed pleased by this cynicism.  "I know.
Well, I'm glad you had fun.  So did I.  I went to brunch and a movie with an
old high school friend."

   Gwen nonchalantly smiled.  "And does your friend smoke, too?"

   "No, Sheryl doesn't," Connie sighed.  "But she doesn't mind if I do.  She
was cool with it.  It was just like old times."

   Gwen nodded.  "That's nice."  The football game was still on.  "Do you like
football?  Don always watches it."

   Connie made a face.  "It's okay, I guess.  If you're watching, I'll sit
down with you."

   They watched the game for a few minutes.  Neither found it compelling,
though.  Soon Gwen switched it off.  "I mostly like football because it
reminds me of Don.  I miss him."

   "I'm sure.  Even if he is terribly controlling, I'm sure it's nice to have
someone to fuck every night."

   "Connie!  What a thing to say!"

   The younger girl smiled.  "Oh, that's right.  Folks at church don't talk
about sex.  It's taboo, isn't it?"

   "Well, it's just not something to talk about in polite company!"

   Connie shrugged.  "I guess it depends on your definition of `polite.'  In
college we talked about sex constantly.  I'm sure Donnie talks with his
friends about it.  Every man I know has sex on the brain constantly!"

   "You're wrong," Gwen answered.  "Don's not controlled by thoughts of sex
like so many men are these days."

   Connie raised an eyebrow.  "Yeah?  I bet you're wrong, Gwen.  Dead wrong.
I bet Donnie is as consumed by sex as any other man.  Maybe more.  Religious
guys are usually the horniest of them all."

   "What do you mean by that?"

   "I mean, I bet Donnie thinks about, and talks about, sex all the time.  I
bet he even has some dirty magazines stashed somewhere here in the house."

   Gwen was now completely flustered.  "I don't know how you can talk about
your brother that way!"

   Laughing, Connie replied.  "I can talk about Donnie that way because he
_is_ my brother.  I grew up with him; remember?  He's seven years older, but I
know what he's like.  He may not admit it to you, but I know.  I bet I can
even find his dirty magazines for you."

   Gwen looked at Connie in disbelief.

   "When we were kids, Dad kept a Playboy collection in his basement
workbench.  Donnie and I used to look at them, though Dad never knew, and Mom
never suspected they were there.  Mom never spent time with Dad's tools or
workbench."  She paused.  "Does Donnie have a workbench in the basement?"

   "Yeah, he does," Gwen slowly answered.  "Are you suggesting he keeps dirty
magazines in his workbench?"

   An impish grin covered Connie's pretty face.  "Dad used to, and Donnie knew
it.  He used to look at them all the time.  Let's run down and find out if
Donnie has any."  She stood up and, before Gwen could stop her, Connie was
running down to the basement.

   Minutes later the girls were pouring through the drawers of Don's
workbench.  At first they found nothing.  Then Connie opened the bottom drawer
and whistled.

   "Oh my God," she squealed.  "Look here.  I was right!  Bingo!  We just hit
pay dirt!"

   She pulled a stack of Playboys from the bottom drawer.  "What did I tell
you?  Donnie has the same dirty mind Dad did!  He even keeps his magazines in
the same place!"

   Gwen's hands trembled as she picked up five recent issues of Playboy.  Her
face turned white.  "I don't believe it.  Gosh!  I don't believe it," she
repeated.

   "I'm sorry, Gwen.  This must be a shock.  Donnie's more preoccupied with
sex than you thought."  She took the top issue and opened the centerfold.  She
whistled.  "My God, this girl has big tits!  She is a real honey!"

   Gwen stared in disbelief at the naked woman smiling in the centerfold.  She
said nothing.

   "Gwen, say hello to Miss June," Connie laughed.  "From the dog-eared look,
I think Donnie's spent some serious time admiring Miss June's beautiful tits."
She hesitated.  "I'm sorry, Gwen.  That's cruel of me.  But unfortunately,
it's true."

   All of a sudden Gwen felt faint.  "I need to go upstairs and sit down," she
gasped.  She stumbled toward the stairs.  Connie followed, bringing the
Playboys with her.

   In the family room Gwen tried to catch her breath sitting on the couch.
She felt like she'd been sucker-punched.  "I don't believe it," she repeated.
"That dog!  He's been gaping at those naked women in the magazines instead of
making love to me!"

   "Ah!  So things haven't been so great with Donnie in the bedroom recently?"

   "I don't talk about our sex life.  But Don's been cold for months.  He
almost never asks me for sex anymore.  I didn't realize he was getting his
satisfaction from - from her!"

   Connie smirked as she held up the centerfold again.  "Well, you have to
admit, Miss June _does_ look damn good!  You'd have to work hard to out-do
this air-brushed beauty."  She looked up.  "Do you want some coffee or
something?"  Gwen silently nodded, and Connie retrieved the coffee pot from
the kitchen and poured fresh mugs for Gwen and herself.  She gave one to Gwen,
who accepted it eagerly and sipped.

   "Uh, Gwen, I know it's a bad time to say it, but it's been awhile since I
had a cigarette.  Do you mind if I sneak out onto the porch for a minute?
I'll come right back.  But I'm dying for a smoke right now!"

   Gwen looked up.  She responded with a strange smile.  "That's okay.  And
you know what?  I'll come out with you," she offered.  "I don't want to sit in
here alone right now."

   Connie picked up her pack from the kitchen counter and went out the door.
Gwen followed, still shaking.  The mild afternoon breeze felt cool and
refreshing.  Connie took her lighter from her shorts pocket and quickly lit
up.

   "Ah, that's nice," she sighed contentedly, pulling smoke into her lungs.
"Yes, very nice!"

   Gwen held her coffee and stared.  The mild temptation to smoke she felt
earlier returned with a vengeance.  Before she thought about it, she spoke.
"Hey, Connie.  Can I have one?"

   The blond girl stopped in mid-exhale.  "What - what are you talking about?
You, Gwen?  Oh my God!  You don't smoke!  You don't want one of these?"

   "Yes, I do," Gwen firmly replied.  "Don's cheating on me, looking at filthy
magazines.  I think I deserve to have a cigarette right now!"

   "But you don't smoke," Connie repeated.  "The other night you said you hate
smoking."

   "Yeah, well, I lied.  While you were at brunch I considered having one of
the cigarettes you left behind.  Now I'm mad and upset.  I feel like doing
something to get back at Don."

   "Oh Gwen, don't," Connie pleaded.  "Come on.  It won't solve anything.  So
what if he ogles at Miss June and jacks off?  That's no reason to have a
cigarette, is it?"

   "I'll decide that," Gwen countered.  "Now, will you let me have one or
not?"

   Connie finally did turn over the pack.  Gwen took it, shook out a
cigarette, and put it in her lips.  "Now, the lighter," she commanded, holding
out her hand with authority.

   Connie surrendered the lighter.  Gwen clicked it, shielding the flame from
the breeze with her hands like a veteran smoker as she touched the bright
yellow flame to the long white cigarette hanging from her lips.  She hollowed
her cheeks.

   She took a strong first drag and sucked smoke inside her chest.  Somewhat
embarrassed, she pursed her lips and released a torrent of smoke into the
breeze.

   "Gwen, you dumb ass!  You'll regret this," Connie warned.  "I shouldn't
have got you so worked up about the Playboys.  I'm sure it's harmless.  It's
no reason for you to smoke, for God's sake."

   "God has nothing to do with it."  Gwen put the cigarette back in her mouth
and dragged harder than the first time.  "You said you like to smoke, Connie.
I thought you loved it."

   "Yeah, well, I do," Connie lamely replied.  "But that's not the point."

   "Oh, yes it is.  It's definitely the point.  Don's been leering at all
those Playboy models.  That infuriates me!"  She pursed her lips and exhaled
another thick stream of smoke.

   "Oh my God," Connie gasped.  "I hope you're not thinking about starting to
smoke after all these years, just like when you were a teenager?  Are you?"

   Gwen shook her head.  "Of course not, silly.  I don't know exactly why I'm
doing this.  But in those days, smoking calmed me down.  I guess it just
seemed like the right thing to do right now under the circumstances."

   Connie paused and broke into a grin.  "I understand.  Smoking _is_ very
relaxing.  So, what do you think?  Does it feel good to smoke again?  Is it
nice?"

   It was Gwen's turn to smile.  "Puffing on this thing makes my head buzz.
It's stupid, but I must admit, it _does_ feel kinda good to smoke."

   "I know.  Smoking is really nice," Connie quickly agreed.  "And I must say,
it's nice to smoke with you.  At school I liked smoking with my girlfriends.
Smoking alone isn't nearly as much fun as having a smoking buddy."

   Gwen nodded as she took another drag.  "It's pleasant, isn't it?"  She
tipped her head to exhale upwards.  "Gosh, I can't believe this!  But it's
really calming me down."

   "Yeah, nicotine works wonders.  Any time I feel mad or upset, having a
cigarette or two always makes me feel better really fast."

   They smoked in silence a moment.  Finally Gwen dropped hers to the ground
and stepped on the butt.  "Wow!  My head's spinning.  I'm not used to this.  I
feel dizzy."

   "But good?"

   She paused.  "Yeah, good," she said with a wry smile.  "I do feel good,"
she repeated.  "I forgot how nice smoking can be."

   "Yeah, well, who knows?  Maybe once in awhile you'll want to join me and
have a cigarette," Connie innocently suggested.  "It'd be fun if you joined me
sometimes."

   "Hey, wait a minute.  I thought you said I shouldn't smoke."

   "Of course you shouldn't.  But if you _want_ to, I sure won't object," she
grinned.

   "I'll think about it," Gwen agreed.  "But let's get back to that other
thing.  Tell me.  Why do think Don keeps the Playboys?  Is there something
wrong with me?"

   "Of course not, dumb-ass.  Men need sex.  But then, so do women.  You
_need_ it, Gwen, whether or not you admit it.  Maybe those girls meet some of
his needs.  And if Donnie isn't meeting your sexual needs, then you should
find some other way to satisfy those desires."

   Her eyes got wide.  "Are you saying I should cheat on him like he's
cheating on me?"

   "Well, I wouldn't call looking at Playboys cheating.  See, the church's
teachings have made you repressed.  You need to get out of your shell and live
a little.  There's nothing wrong with masturbating, you know?  I mean,
fantasizing while you play with yourself, to feel the satisfaction and sexual
relief when you need it, can be a very good thing!"

   Gwen was horrified.  "I can't believe you're suggesting that!"

   Connie shrugged.  "It's the way of the world, kid.  Everyone does it."  She
smiled.  "Even people in the church like Donnie do, apparently."

   Gwen frowned.  "I suppose he _is_ masturbating when he looks at them.
Gosh, I should confront him about it.  It upsets me that he keeps them hidden.
It's so - so hypocritical.  Or maybe I should tell the preacher, or one of the
elders."  She smiled.  "Now _they'd_ straighten him out in a hurry!"

   "Don't do any of those things.  Seriously, don't.  It's not strange, Gwen.
Guys like Donnie always look.  But you shouldn't worry unless he's sampling
someone else's sugar."  Seeing the shock on her face, Connie laughed.  "Come
on, get over it!  I'm just calling a spade a spade.  There's no reason to
believe Donnie's cheating on you, is there?  No strange, unexpected phone
calls from women, unexplained absences, that sort of thing?"

   Gwen thought.  "No, nothing like that I know of.  He's traveled on business
a lot more the last six months.  But there's been nothing like phone calls
from other women.  Except for you, Connie, no other women call him here."  She
sighed.  "So maybe he _is_ just looking.  But I'm still not happy about it.  I
feel like I should do something."

   "Confronting him won't accomplish a thing.  If you do, he'll beg you not to
tell the preacher.  He'll promise to reform.  But he won't, Gwen.  He can't.
No one can."  She got a sardonic look on her face.  "But maybe you should
think about catering to his fantasies."

   Gwen gave her a quizzical look.

   "I mean, he looks at those magazines because he likes them.  So maybe he'd
like it if you got kinky with him sometimes."

   Gwen sputtered, but Connie went on, as she got herself a beer from the
refrigerator.

   "Just think about it," Connie smirked, taking a sip of her Miller Light.
"Donnie controls you; he tries to make you a perfect saint.  But maybe, just
maybe, what he really wants is a little devil.  Miss June isn't exactly a
church angel, if you know what I mean."

   "No, she sure isn't."

   "So maybe you shouldn't be such an angel, either.  Kick it up a little.
Get in touch with that part of you that wants to have fun, Gwen.  Hell, maybe
smoking's a nice way to start back down that road again."

   "What do you mean?"

   Connie grinned.  "You're unhappy; you admit it.  You feel like you're in a
fuckin' straightjacket living like you are.  But if you raise a little hell,
either Donnie will love it, because he secretly wants you to be bad, or he'll
be incredibly pissed, in which case you get revenge.  Either way, it's worth
trying.  You can't lose."

   "What exactly are you suggesting that I do?"

   "I don't know," Connie shrugged, sipping her beer.  "Try smoking a little.
Drink some beer with me.  If you're up for something really wild, put on that
tight little blue dress, the one Donnie told you to take back, and let's go
dancing with my friends some night this week."

   "Gosh, I don't know," she muttered.  It suddenly sounded strangely
tempting.  "People at church would _not_ approve.  Do you really think I
should?"

   Connie nodded vigorously.  "Who cares what those damn busybodies think?
Make up your own mind what you want, Gwen.  Don't let them do your thinking
for you anymore."

   The phone rang, interrupting the discussion.  Gwen ran to answer it.  It
was Don, calling to check on her.  Connie overheard her talking to him.  Gwen
said nothing about the magazines or anything else.  She was acting like
nothing happened.  

   Connie smirked.  Her reverse psychology worked like a fuckin' charm!
Telling Gwen she _shouldn't_ smoke made the idea even more appealing.  She
grinned.  Hopefully Gwen _would_ think about smoking with her again soon.  She
lit up another Marlboro Light 100 and continued to smoke.

   And the rest of the day, Gwen _did_ think about it.  She understood the
logic of Connie's suggestion.  If wild, sexy women turned Don on, maybe she
should cultivate her wild side a little.  And if it turned out Don really
didn't want her to be like beautiful, sexy Miss June, well then, by doing it,
she'd royally piss him off, as Connie put it.  It'd serve him right!

   The most appealing part of Connie's suggestion was the smoking.  Having an
excuse to smoke seemed deliciously decadent.  She _did_ used to like smoking
in the old days, and her one cigarette on the porch was amazingly nice.  The
taste in her mouth, and feeling the smoke fill up her lungs again - it could
only be described as heavenly.  It might be smart to indulge just a little
with Connie from now on, to keep her sister-in-law company on the porch
whenever she smoked, and irritate Don in the process.

   She made one more decision.  After hanging up with Don, she took out the
June centerfold from that issue and put it up on the refrigerator.  The
beautiful naked woman would smile at her constantly, reminding her that Don
gave in to his desires.  Now she'd do the same, but in her own way.  And
whatever that led to in the next week and a half, well, she'd find out!

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