The Perseverance of Compulsive Love:
Sylvia’s sacrifice – Part -3 – From our book,
‘The Unconquerable Heart’
‘Well, that was expected anyway.’ Tretan sighed loosened himself from Sylvia’s vagina and he walked towards his sofa on the dais, ‘Yahweh, seems to be working here a little bit, but Fuhrer is not gonna relent.’ he declared, swinging his right index finger at her. Though Sylvia could not see his theatrics, she understood the tone in his voice.
Tretan sat back on the sofa, picked up the glass plate again and snuffed the remaining six big lines of cocaine in one go. Six big lines of cocaine in one go was a little too much for a regular like Tretan. His heartbeat raced up drastically and his brain resonated with a thousand drumbeats. He silently collapsed back on the sofa as his body tried to adjust to the abrupt shock. The sudden lull in the room caused Sylvia to wonder what was happening, but then Tretan suddenly choked and vomited on the floor. The sound of the choking vomit, made Sylvia ascertain to herself that Tretan was overdosing.
‘So, where were we?’ Tretan asked wiping his mouth with the hand towel that was already on the table. Sylvia stayed silent. ‘Speak up, bitch!’ Tretan shouted.
‘You said, your Grandpa was an officer at Auschwitz, Fuhrer.’ Sylvia replied.
‘Aah, good gal.’ Tretan poured himself another peg of absinthe and took a sip.
‘So, one fine day,’ Tretan, gulped down a sip and continued the story, ‘this particular middle-aged Jewish lady in the camp offered to make my Granddad filthy rich, in return for a safe exit for herself and her son from the camp.’
Sylvia listened carefully. She already knew Tretan was a sworn hater of the Jewish faith, but then she wanted to know how deep it ran in him.
‘This lady, she was the wife of the wealthiest Jew in all of Poland that time. She was like royalty. My Grandpa, he retrieved all of her jewels from hidden locations. Booty was really big. Fetched him a mighty bomb, when he sold em in the US later on.’
Tretan continued, pausing in between to sip on Absinthe and occasionally stare at Sylvia’s naked rump. He desired a hard on desperately, but it was not coming for him naturally. That day, somehow he was very anxious and doctors had strictly advised him against using Sildenafil when he did cocaine. But then he was not someone who really needed an erection to satisfy himself. He always had other means. His psychotic brain always conjured up wicked and innovative means to deliver him the perfect bliss that equalled a hundred oxytocin shots in one go.
‘Mother fucker, he was not satisfied.’ Tretan broke into wild peals of laughter. He went on laughing wildly for well over a minute and then the laugh slowly spilled over into a chronic cough that resulted in him falling back in the sofa and gasping for breath. He filled himself up with another glass of absinthe. Water was a strict no-no for him and his attendees never placed it near his table unless they were asked to.
Hearing Tretan cough up and fall back into another bout of silence, Sylvia felt pity for Tretan. She concluded that he was too consumed with hatred, that he had lost control over his body altogether. She also concluded, that his mind fed off his body like a parasite and it would eventually lead him to a total breakdown very soon.
Having had enough, Tretan left the half-emptied glass and walked over to Sylvia, ‘This cunt, she had a pious tag attached to her.’ he continued the story even as he walked over to her. ‘His diary said, even at the camp, she prayed almost every day. My Grandpa, he was intrigued and fascinated with her outlook and demeanour.’
Tretan stood over her and looked at her for a wee second and then bent down to look into her eyes. ‘Like I’m with you now.’ he said making a firm eye contact with her. Sylvia looked at him with bland eyes. She tried to understand where he was getting at with the story, but his psychotic mind was beyond her comprehension.
‘You have a soul.’ he said in a diabolic tone maintaining the eye contact. ‘Just like that woman from the camp.’ he mentioned, then suddenly straightened himself up and walked away from her towards the closet. Sylvia still couldn’t understand what he really meant by wanting her soul and how he planned to tarnish it.
‘My Grandpa was hell-bent on unravelling her mysticism.’ He continued even as he walked. ‘So, he proposed. He wrote, and the pious lady readily agreed. Probably in a bid to save her son.’
Tretan picked up a hollow strap on from the closet, ‘Interesting as it may sound, she requested that he never remove her Tichel. Just, no matter what.’ he continued with the story even as he slid his penis into it and then fastened it around his waist.
With the mention of the lady, from his grandfather’s diary, requesting not to remove her Tichel, Sylvia now precisely understood why Tretan had extracted an answer from her beforehand about her devotion to Munna and why he’d commanded her to tie a Tichel.
Tretan had a fetish for pious women and the presence of Tichel, along with the acknowledgement of her devotion to Munna, established that she was, in fact, a pious Jewish woman fiercely sworn to just one true love for eternity. She now understood what he really meant by saying that she had a soul. It was her soul that he wanted to sully and not her body. But this was something that she’d thought of even before she signed the agreement. Her soul was not with her for Tretan to dip his malicious fangs into. It was already with Munna and there was no way Tretan could even touch it.
‘See, you bitches would do anything to survive, yet you wanna score with the world and your YAHWEH’ he said aloud as he walked back towards her with the dildo dangling by his crotch.
He stood over her and Sylvia got a glimpse of the ten-inch dildo that was about to pillage through her body mercilessly. She was scared, but she assured herself that physical pain was nothing in front of what she was about to achieve. She visualized Munna’s innocent smile and it gave her tremendous tranquillity.
‘My Granpa agreed.’ Tretan said looking amorously at Sylvia’s Tichel. After a brief glance, he stepped backwards and positioned himself between her thighs, ‘In his book he wrote, the Tichel’s presence gave him a monstrous high.’ He positioned the dildo right against Sylvia’s vagina, ‘Whenever he jabbed the pious Jew sow’s holes,’ with those words, he thrust the dildo into her vagina with a big push, and the large, stiff rubber dildo, tore open into Sylvia’s vagina. Blood spilled over and she let out a heart-wrenching shriek. But, for Tretan, the sound of Sylvia’s helpless cries sounded like soothing music and they overwhelmed him with a sense of extreme tranquillity and he mindlessly continued to molest and tear apart her vagina mercilessly.
Meanwhile, outside the suite room, an eerie calm prevailed. The room was properly sound proof and there was no chance of anyone hearing Sylvia’s helpless shrieks. The anti-depressant pills that Miranda took were finally showing up on her. She felt sleepy, her senses dulled, but she forced herself to stay awake. Sylvia’s phone vibrated incessantly. It was Hazeem, but Miranda was in no mood to take the call, she switched it off finally and sat back in the sofa, tapping her feet and biting her nails. There was nothing, she could do except wait until dawn when the time mentioned in the agreement lapsed.
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Meanwhile, in the suite, Tretan had had his fill on the spanking bench and gotten Sylvia gagged up and strapped to the upright stocks. Sylvia’s entire body had turned red. The constant slaps and beatings she had at Tretan’s hands had taken their toll and ruffling and pulling at her hair had caused it to turn unruly and shabby. Her face had completely lost its charm and her eyes had gone sore. She just hung in there, bearing excruciating physical and mental pain.
But Tretan was never known to be compassionate. He was in no mood to relent any sooner; he’d just gotten her on the upright stocks and was keen as mustard to get the most out of her from that position. He just humped her, humped her and humped her even more. It didn’t matter which hole the monstrous dildo slipped in, he just humped her. Sylvia was just a meat bag now that needed to be punished. He had gotten his point across. It didn’t matter whether she’d agreed with it or not. He didn’t need anybody’s acceptance. He just wanted their subjugation.
Sylvia, on the other hand, tried hard to focus on the power of her love to give her the courage and the will to tide over those heinous barbaric episodic sessions.
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END OF CHAPTER