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My husband watched the television. I showered and prepared for bed. My husband came up to the room and turned on the television. That's how it went that night. I stayed active, he said inactive. Just like nothing had changed.Then, surprisingly, he spoke up, just as I was drifting off to sleep. "Remember, dearest wife, tomorrow is a new day." Suddenly, I didn't feel much very sleepy. I laid beside him, muscles tense, as I imagined what was in store for me tomorrow. And all the tomorrows to follow.Nothing, not even my imagination, had prepared me for the morning of my first "tomorrow." He didn't have me cook him breakfast, as he'd always requested. He didn't even head to the privacy of the bathroom to take care of his morning rituals. He woke me, bright and early in a most untraditional manner. He straddled my face, pried my lips apart and slipped his semi-hard cock in between the pillow cushions of my warm lips.My eyes flew open as I was callously awoken. "It's time, bitch." My eyes. As soon as he closed the back door behind him, I scrambled for my phone. My eyes darted between the phone and the sight of him walking around the car to the driver’s seat. I placed the call to 911 and hit the speaker button before shoving the phone back into my pocket. Jason turned to me briefly once he was behind the wheel and I hoped my jeans would muffle the operator’s voice. Can they even track my phone? Or is that just something they show on TV? I wondered. I tensed when I heard a distant voice on the phone, glancing at the back of Jason’s head. He didn’t move or seem to hear it. I nudged part of my phone out of my pocket and mentally crossed my fingers. ‘Where are you taking me?’ I asked, my voice squeaky with fear. ‘What’s going on, Jason?’ ‘I told you not to speak,’ he said calmly. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered. ‘I’m just – scared.’ ‘You brought this on yourself,’ Jason told me. His voice still sounded eerily casual. ‘I gave you plenty of chances to talk to me, but no. You forced.
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