The chains of obsession, p.1
The Chains of Obsession, page 1
‘THE CHAINS OF OBSESSION’
A novel by
Brad Jones
CHAPTER ONE
No one could believe the gruesome find the mechanical digger revealed when excavating the apple orchard to construct the roundabout at the entry to the new road. Wrapped in the ragged remains of two rolled up carpets, were the bones of a young girl and a middle aged man. They were buried just two feet down, the surface covered with grass and shrub. Some ten feet along from that were the bones of another girl, headless, and further on still was another. It was established that all had been there at least ten years. The intact skeleton of the youngest girl would have been there perhaps three to four years longer than that. Say about 1965.
* * *
Oliver took Sylvia home. They sat in his new 1962 Ford Zephyr, some short distance from her home, parked in the shadow of the trees with the moonlight filtering through the leaves. They'd got quite used to a little petting now. A few kisses, breast cuddling. He'd never gone for more. Tonight though, Sylvia seemed more emotional. She'd had a drink or two, and she'd been a bit tearful saying goodbye to Bert and Annie who had left the wedding reception early to catch their honeymoon plane.
'Let's sit in the back for a change,' Oliver said. He felt like experimenting. Oliver Hickery was determined tonight to get his hand into her knickers.
The leather of the rear seat was a touch cold at first. Almost furtively he reached under her dress and rested a warm hand just above her knee. Sylvia tensed, but put both arms around his neck and kissed him with a little more feeling. This was a good sign. He put his left arm under her waist, drawing her closer, at the same time taking his hand up her thigh and resting it there. He stayed like that for some time, massaging gently, not moving further, and her kisses got sweeter, but when he tried to slide his fingers to the inner part of her thigh, he felt her hand rest on the top of his, stopping it there. Oh dear! It wasn’t to be! Resignedly he moved no further, massaging feebly where she had stopped him. He was just about to give up when she came loose from the kiss, as if she'd thought of something.
'Oliver?'
'Yes?' he answered, in as soft a voice as she had just used.
'Would it be all right if we got engaged?'
Oliver remained quiet. Her cheek was to the side of his. He realised he was still stroking her thigh where she held his hand lightly. He was still thinking: he'd lost Jane! No chance of ever getting her back now that she’d taken up with that other guy.
'Why not?' His voice was soft.
Sylvia moved from his cheek and kissed him, warmly, lovingly. She removed her hand from his and put it with the other around his neck. Oliver was lost for a brief moment, then, suddenly alert, he slid his hand to where it was warmer. Sylvia parted her legs ever so slightly to let him have the more intimate inside of her thighs. He wasn't greedy. He wouldn't go crazy like he would have done had she been Jane playing her little girl fantasy role. He simply stroked and smoothed the limit she'd given him, the cool fleshy bit above her stocking tops. He was a good lad and wasn't going to take liberties. But it was boring. He felt no emotion and no arousal. Then he became aware that Sylvia's mouth had gone a lot looser. Her legs were quite slack too. She allowed him to widen them, so that his hand was less restricted.
My God, she’s going to let me! All right! He'd go for it. After all, he'd just agreed to get engaged, hadn’t he? That meant marriage! He was entitled.
Tightening his grip under her waist, he lifted her further into him. He was beginning to enjoy her mouth now, reminded him of Jane. Hugging her more firmly still, he let his hand close over her crotch, outside her knickers. She swallowed, but still stayed in the kiss. Oliver kept his hand still and felt the warmth of her coming into it. Ever so gently, keeping his palm open and cupped, he rubbed her and began to feel himself rising. When her mouth opened to his tongue he figured she was ready.
Sylvia had been going out with Oliver, on and off, for more than six months now. She wondered if perhaps he was beginning to love her as she felt she loved him. He'd never been as affectionate as this to her before, showing such feeling, touching her so intimately. The only other person she had felt this depth of feeling for had been Jane. What ever would Oliver think if he knew how, at fifteen, she had such feelings for a girl? She was an art student back then and worked part time as a waitress in a café. The girl, Jane, worked in a local solicitor’s office and regularly went there for lunch. It was only because she had seen how other girls were so attracted to Jane that she had developed such a crush. Jane however didn’t appear to notice her, and Sylvia was to shy to reveal how she felt. It wasn’t sexual. She was afraid of sex. Well she wasn’t really sure about that with Jane. She only knew that the thought of having a man's penis inside her was scary. Once a boy had shoved his in her hand and it was like a little bullet. She was horrified.
Suddenly Sylvia was jolted to action. Oliver's hand had started to reach into her knickers. She squeezed her legs quickly together and grabbed his hand.
'No Oliver, please no!'
Oliver felt his growth shrink back and die. 'Sylvia! We've just committed ourselves to getting married, haven't we?' He began to move his arm from her waist. She held it to her.
'I'm sorry, Oliver!'
'I mean, Sylvia . . . its only sex! You can't get married to someone and then find out they don't like sex. Or even that you like different sorts of sex. Not every body likes the same thing.' He moved his hand back from between her legs and let it rest on her thigh. The sliver of moonlight coming through the leaves of the tree made her face appear extra pale. She looked sorrowfully into his eyes.
'I'm sorry. I just didn't want us to go so far. Not here, like this!'
The car was in the shadows parked no more than a hundred yards from her home. Her mother would know how long they were parked there having their goodnight kiss.
'Well sweetheart, I only want to feel you. That can't be wrong, can it? You don't think Bert and Annie didn't have sex before even they got engaged, do you? They didn’t go on honeymoon without knowing that they were going to enjoy being in bed together before they went!’
Sylvia looked tearful. 'I just thought we could wait awhile. It will be all right later, I promise!'
Oliver looked sternly at her. 'Well no! I want to feel you now. This is ridiculous!' He withdrew his hand completely and began to sit up. Sylvia stopped him and tried to kiss him. 'Kiss me, I'm sorry!'
Oliver looked at his watch. She put her arms around his neck and drew his face toward hers. 'All right then. You can if you want to!'
His face softened and he allowed her to put her lips to his. Her mouth completely melted. This was more like it. He broke the kiss to whisper to her. 'Just relax then and let me pull your knickers down!' He went straight back into the kiss so that she didn't need to say anything. This time he lifted her at the waist as he gently lowered her knickers. He didn't drag them off as he normally would have had she been Jane, wanting to play out her sexual fantasies. Instead, he lowered them only enough to get his hand in, to stroke her naked tummy, and round about. But he soon got bored with that. He hadn't got his hard back. So he eased her further along the seat. ‘Come on sweetheart; let’s have them all the way off. I can't feel you properly as I should.'
Sylvia allowed herself to be lifted and moved till Oliver had removed them completely. The feeling came over her that she was entirely naked, and she wanted to hide herself by trying to pull her dress down. Oliver laughed. 'Sylvia, sweetheart, don't be silly. I'm going to be your husband, aren't I? You can't have secrets from me!'
He lifted her on to his lap and opened her legs wide, placing his warm hand directly onto her, reaching underneath. He'd got it all now, soft and pussy cat hairy and completely his. There was nothing left to hide. She simply let herself go into his kisses and let his hand do as it pleased. What did it matter now? He knew this part of her. He was feeling it, stroking it, keeping her legs locked open somehow with his other leg. She felt she was going to cry. She'd gone so hot there. His hand was like fire. And now she was embarrassed because she was oozing all slippery under his fingers. He would be disgusted. It was awful. His fingers and his hand so wet and sticky all over and she the cause of it. How could he tolerate her? But he continued as if he loved it. His kisses, her kisses . . . almost as wet. Oh no, no! She felt his fingers sliding and pressing into her. She couldn't prevent herself opening. They were moving into her and she couldn't hold them back. She pulled her lips away from his. 'Oliver, please!'
His mouth went to her neck, biting her, sucking her.
'Oliver! Please . . . don't!'
And then she felt his single, middle finger enter her all the way up. She started to cry softly, but was powerless to prevent it. And her crying was something that turned Oliver on. He felt himself growing strong again. She was a helpless little girl, struggling weakly. He thought of Jane and the fantasy roles they played together. The movement of Sylvia's body, pulling herself this way and that, wasn't helping her. He was working his finger now deeply into her, slippery in and out. He knew she was protesting and sobbing a little, but nature was telling him her body was responding. She was getting wetter and wetter. He was getting squelching noises from her.
Suddenly he brought her to a body heaving climax. He had finger fucked her and loved every moment of it. He held her in his arms now like a baby, and rocked her, loved her. 'It’s all right sweetheart. Never mind, its all right now!'
Sylvia clung to him fiercely and sobbed her heart out.
'You will marry me, won't you Oliver? You do mean it?'
Oliver put his arms gently around her again and hugged her. 'Of course I will, sweetheart! I do mean it.'
CHAPTER TWO
Bert and Annie returned from their honeymoon, and on their first foursome get together, Oliver announced that he and Sylvia were getting engaged, and that their wedding would be on Sylvia's twenty-first birthday. They were delighted and there were hugs all round. Every one thought how sensible Oliver was to wait three and a half years, so patient, giving Sylvia time to know her own mind, and grow more mature. Her parents were especially pleased. But Oliver was not at all on their wavelength. He was looking for every excuse to postpone the inevitable. Sylvia wanted to be married almost right away, on her eighteenth birthday. There was no way he could hope to delay it beyond her twenty-first.
Oliver and Bert continued to flourish in their property development business. Sylvia worked with Annie in her flower shop, her talent for painting apparent in the artistic way she made up the displays. As a foursome, they got on very well and the months went by without Oliver hearing anything of Jane, though he thought of her often. His sex life was nothing like it used to be. Sylvia had said how important it was for her not to have full sex till they were properly married, because she didn’t want to feel a hypocrite or any sense of shame when wearing her white wedding gown. She wanted her wedding to be like her mother's and father's had been. The picture of her father in his RAF uniform, and her mother's beautiful white gown was like a fairy tale. They had kept the wedding dress and now they were looking forward to seeing their only daughter married in it. It would be so romantic and sentimental. And she didn't want to disappoint them.
Oliver had gone along so far with her wishes, but she had had to concede to letting him at least go as far as she had let him the night he'd agreed to get engaged. In fact, she'd got so use to it now; she even made a little light conversation, going quiet only when she was coming up to her climax. But over the months, Oliver had slowly encroached on her, and had she been able to step back, so to speak, and see what was really happening, she would have realised she was ever so surely being seduced and cajoled into yielding up more and more. All the time she thought she was keeping him at bay, saving herself for her wonderful wedding day, Oliver was ever so surely getting more of what he wanted. Just so long as she didn’t yield to full intercourse Sylvia felt she wasn't letting her parents down. Yet here she was, most nights of the week, allowing herself to be stripped of her knickers in the back of the Zephyr, and stroked and rubbed and even sucked to her climaxes now, as though it was the most casual thing, and going home happy and contented. It was no special moment for Sylvia, she just let Oliver do it because he wanted to and she felt he was content with that, and wouldn't insist on going the whole way. She never even felt uncomfortable about it anymore, as she had done when he had first shocked her by starting such a thing. But Oliver seemed to like it and he was so natural about it, so it was all right.
Come night time, however, when Oliver was alone in his bed, he still suffered his own private torment. Try as he might, he could not keep the memory of those experiences with Jane from entering his mind. It took great restraint on his part, not to carry out some of the urges that were rising in him while messing around on Sylvia. But that would just end it all, he felt sure. He had to keep in mind that Sylvia was not Jane. Although sexually he was not getting his needs, he was getting the love of a female, in the same way Bert was getting love from Annie. He now seemed to have grown out of the notion that he only had to get it up a female to make her want him. Probably Jane had cured him of that by showing him that she could take it or leave it. He had thought that Jane sexually needed him, and that had been his driving force.
CHAPTER THREE
A year further on much had happened: Bert and Annie were involved in a serious motorbike accident, with both ending up in intensive care. Annie stayed in a coma for two whole months and they said it was a miracle she ever came out of it, making a complete recovery with no foreseeable worrying side effects. The tragedy, however, was that she had to be told of Bert's condition, and this made her ill for quite some time. Bert, sadly, would never walk again. He had suffered irreparable spinal injury, and had no sensation in his legs. This was a terrible time for everyone. There wasn't anyone close to them who didn't cry. It took months to get Bert home from hospital and back with Annie who was so fortunately back to full health again. Oliver and Sylvia were their constant visitors. Sometimes, Bert asked to be alone with Oliver, so they could talk private things. He said he felt well, not sick or anything, and that at least he still woke up with a hard on!
During the next few months, Oliver felt burdened with things he had to attend to. He had no business partner now. Bert wasn't able to work, though had no worry about providing for him and Annie because of the hefty insurance pay out which afforded him a nice house specially fitted to accommodate his wheelchair. But Oliver had the full responsibility of an inheritance. His Aunt Laura had died and fortune though it was, he had to be very serious about how he behaved and organised his life. He wanted to make something of himself and not squander his opportunity. And furthermore, his wedding was in two months time. Oliver had the feeling that marriage would be too restrictive and confided in Bert that he wasn't entirely happy about it at all. Bert couldn't say much to the contrary because he couldn't compare it with his own marriage which had turned into something abnormal. He could only say that it was nice to have the love and company of someone. Restriction didn't come into it for him. For Annie, maybe!
A month before the wedding was due Oliver received a phone call. It was Jane. He knew her voice instantly, but could hardly believe it.
‘Jane?'
'Yes, Olly! How are you these days?'
Oliver took a deep breath. 'Well I'm fine Jane! It’s nice to hear your voice! I can't believe you're phoning me after all this time.' There was silence on the line, then she said: 'It’s not because I haven't wanted to. I've just had a lot of problems. I've thought of you often as it happens. And recently, which is why I've phoned. Didn't know you'd even be living at the same address. A whole world can change in three years. So, anyway, what's happening to you . . . having fun?'
Oliver carried the phone from his desk and put it beside him on the settee. He mentioned that his Aunt had died and he'd come into everything now. He was his own boss, lived a quiet life.
Jane was interested. 'How's your sex life these days? ‘Can't imagine you go short with your appetite!'
Oliver laughed. 'Oh, it’s all right! I'm actually getting married in a month’s time.'
There was a short silence on the line, then: 'That's good is it?'
He didn't know how to answer that. It was typical Jane. Not: Oh that's nice! Or, I'm so pleased for you! Just a straight out question which he ought to be able to answer but didn't want to either way. 'What about you? Still with Winston? How's Brenda?'
She laughed. 'All that's history. I haven't lived in Wolverhampton for ages. No future in filing. Told them to stick it! I'm phoning from Dudley.' Oliver was surprised. 'What! That's not your territory!'
‘No, but I work at the local hospital here now.’
‘Can’t imagine you as a nurse Jane. You’re too glamorous for that.’
She laughed again. ‘Worse than that . . . not exactly a nurse, I work in pathology and we do mortuary services.’
‘Bloody hell!’
‘It’s only for awhile. Just a stepping stone to better things!’
He hesitated. 'You with somebody now or what?'
