"So, you finally decided to come," Gaston Larreau smirked broadly at his adopted nephew's wife standing in the doorway of his elegant, if, compact little downtown hideaway. "Took a bit of time for you to make up your mind, eh?" He chuckled, a certain licentious note prevalent in the sound. "Well…? Don't stand there, come inside. You look like a half drowned rat. What the hell've you been doing, crawling in the gutter?"
With downward cast eyes, Madeleine entered and felt a cold little chill ripple along her spine as he closed the door behind her and locked it securely. But she didn't look at him; she couldn't as yet. Again she heard him snigger deep in his throat.
"You better get those clothes off," he said matter-of-factly. "You must be soaked to that pretty soft skin of yours. Wouldn't want you catching a cold on my account, eh? Antoine would never forgive me." This time, he laughed loudly.
She stood with her back to him, yet to speak her first word since he'd answered her ring, and now he walked up to her, slipping one arm around her waist affectionately, then letting his hand slide down over the full round line of her hip and back to smooth over her buttocks as he bent forward to peek up into her face. She felt her flesh cringe and grow taut to his touch beneath the clinging wet garments, and she steeled herself to keep from bolting and screaming.
"Ah, chere, I see you've taken a more sensible outlook on things today," he said, leering up at her. "Not quite to my expectations… but passable, temporarily. Now… why don't you run into the bedroom and undress so that we can get these clothes dry. You'll find a choice of feminine wear to your liking… but don't overdue it, ma chere, eh? After all, you won't be needing it long." He laughed. "Now, go ahead while I mix us a drink…"
"U-Uncle Gaston… please… I-I…" Madeleine started, hesitantly, the fear and shame distorting her lovely face obviously even to him.
He surprised her then by taking her firm, pointed chin delicately in his pudgy hand and raising it. "Look, Cheri, don't be afraid. I'll protect you… and I'll get your baby for you, just as I promised last night, but… but you must be good to me," he said, moving in close to her, both arms encircling her while his hands cupped familiarly the full round orbs of her lush buttocks. Playfully, he squeezed, massaged and joggled them in his fat little hands, while a degrading sensation of incestuousness raced through her; then, he drew her tight to him, pressing his massive belly against her own flat one, his heavy thighs crowding hers, and the hardness of his obviously jerking member grinding into her pelvis. At equal height, his lips sought hers hungrily, and closing her eyes to shut out the sight, she suddenly felt his wet, open mouth ravenously suck in her soft lips, while his thick tongue brushed over them, then crashed brutally between them into her mouth and throat.
Madeleine didn't fight him; instead, just as she had closed her eyes to the sight of him, she now closed her mind to his actual existence and the despicable, nauseating things he was doing to her. One thought, and one thought alone filled her repulsive mind… Igat… her own little Igat…!
Dear God, forgive me… forgive me…
"Please…?" she managed at last, gently pushing back from him. "L-Let me get these… these wet things off…"
He backed away, smiling crookedly, displaying his gold teeth. "Oui, oui, but hurry, chere, I think it's about ready to burst a blood vessel, eh?" He laughed obscenely and watched her walk quickly into the bedroom, closing the door. He called after her: "I'll mix us a drink…"
Madeleine lay back against the closed door, her hand immediately going to cover her face as a sob burst from her throat. Her mind suddenly raced backward in time to a similar horror in her life in a shabby little motel at Riviere du Loup and a chilling sliminess crept over her, causing her whole body to tremble repugnantly. Mother of God! She couldn't go through with it! She just couldn't…! There was no way…! Yet, even as her tormented mind churned in painful turmoil, she was unzipping her dress from behind and stepping out of it… choking back little convulsive gasps as she lifted her slip over her head… whimpering to herself while simultaneously she stepped out of her shoes, then, rolled her pantyhose down over her lush round hips and buttocks, finally lowering herself to the bed where she could more easily slide them along the long white columns of her legs… and the tears continued to dribble in fine rivulets down her lovely cheeks. She stood, then, and reaching behind with both hands, unhooked her bra to let it slip away and reveal her trembling, full, erect breasts, while a cool rush of air brushed over them causing their tiny nipples to tauten of their own volition. She emitted one last little sob as she stared at the reflection of her soft, naked, voluptuousness in the full-length wall-mirror, realizing suddenly that her natural instinct had been the superior force dominating and guiding her hands… that all other self protecting emotions were subservient to this most natural of inborn proclivities… and abruptly she raised her chin in a gesture of defiance, her deep dark eyes leaping to life with a sparkling glint of determination… She could and would do anything to get her Igat back! Nothing or no one else mattered… especially herself! Yes, she could and she would…!
The door opened suddenly and Uncle Gaston entered, drinks in his hands, only to stop short as he gaped in breathtaken dazzlement at the magnificent splendor of her unexpected nakedness before him.
Madeleine, hardly use to even the thought of her determined, if, artificial sang-froid, fell backward a step with the shock, grabbing up her sheer slip to hold it protectively in front of her beneath her chin.
"Jesus Christ!" Uncle Gaston gasped. His mouth hung open as if hinged, his little colorless eyes beading excitedly as they fell to the almost completely exposed delightful extremities of her rounded soft white thighs and tapering calves below the short silken garment she held raised protectively. "Y-You're beautiful, Cheri… Goddamn…! Beautiful…!"
Madeleine couldn't speak; she stared at him in immediate wild-eyed confusion, the first waves of shame and fear taking precedent over all else, and then, as he slowly began to move toward her, she automatically retreated… forgetting that only the bed lay strategically behind her.
The drinks in his hands forgotten, Larreau set them on a table, never taking his hungry, lecherous eyes from her. Spontaneously, his thick tongue darted out to lick at his dry, rubbery lips as he continued to close slowly in on her.
In near terror now, Madeleine's eyes screamed her fright at him while her brain raced in wild chaos as she backed ever closer to the bed, her head beginning to wag negatively, causing her still damp, long raven tresses to brush about her shoulders in mild frenzy. At last, a word formed on her lips and she blurted it out: "N-No…! No…! No…!"
Larreau was already breathing heavily while his eyes devoured the outlined contours behind the clinging, almost gossamery slip she held in front of her, a flickering sight of black, silken, pubic hair at the joined apex between her thighs briefly catching his eye her every backward step. Again, he ran his tongue over his lips.
"Be nice," he hissed, "That's all, Cheri… just be nice… like we agreed, eh…? Everything'll be all right… I swear it will… Maybe… maybe, you'll even like it if you give yourself a chance… I'll be gentle… and… and you be nice… okay…?"
"Oh… Oh God! U-Uncle Gaston… God Almighty, I can't…! Oh please, I just can't…!" She let out a scream of surprise then, the edge of the bed catching her behind the knees and she fell backward, her legs spreading apart as she lost her balance, the delectable sight of the tight pink slit in her sparse, hair-lined loins sending a licentious charge of lust jolting through him and quickly he forced his knees between her scissored thighs, clutching at them so that she could not slither or roll away from him while he knelt upright above her.