Infidelity

"Deep down, all the while, she was waiting for something to happen. Like a sailor in distress, she kept casting desperate glances over the solitary waster of her life, seeking some white sail in the distant mists of the horizon. She had no idea by what wind it would reach her, toward what shore it would bear her, or what kind of craft it would be -- tiny boat or towering vessel, laden with heartbreaks or filled to the gun-whales with rapture. But every morning when she awoke she hoped that today would be the day; she listened for every sound, gave sudden starts, was surprised when nothing happened; and then, sadder with each succeeding sunset, she longed for tomorrow."

MADAME BOVARY, Part I, Chapter IX

*

A woman does not embark on an affair in order to destroy her marriage.

She seeks to escape the pain and guilt deep within her soul, which make her feel ugly and unloved, and by doing so she finds solace in the arms of another who tells her repeatedly that she is beautiful and good.

At least, this is what I have discovered about myself.

I hid something from my husband, the horror of which I could not even admit to myself, so when the ugliness inside spilled outwards, I looked in the mirror and saw a monster. I withdrew from my husband, for fear that he would recoil from my hideousness, and he eventually became distant from me not understanding my retreat and becoming resentful in the process. As he waited patiently for me to return to him, I sought to escape my misery and turned my back against the man who had the power to either be my salvation or my perdition. I could not risk unburdening my iniquity, only for him to choose the latter.

And so I awoke each morning looking for solace and redemption but finding neither at home, I wandered further afield and found a man who knew nothing of my demon but instead discovered an elegance and bloom in me long-forgotten and buried. He saw a soft sensuality in my curves which masked the brittleness I felt, and he beheld purity in my eyes which belied my transgression. The stranger broke through the impenetrable walls I had carefully constructed around myself over many years and infiltrated my troubled mind, bringing with him the intoxicating fantasy of who I could be. A connection was made, something so rare in my life, and I although I did not fall in love with him, I fell for him hook, line and sinker. A month of duplicity and I am slowly losing my mind, silently screaming out for help.

This morning my husband discovered my infidelity.

He is both incredulous of and devastated by my actions. He demands to know who the stranger is and I cannot speak. He storms out of the room and I follow him to try and explain, knowing I have no words to do so and caging my demon tighter inside me lest it shows itself.

"Do you love him?" my husband demands.

"No, of course not!" I yell back. "It's not love, it's...." I cannot finish the sentence because I do not know how to confess that another man, not my husband, made me visibly resplendent again. How do I explain that I opened myself up to a stranger who explored parts of me I could not share with my husband? How do I disclose that I made this unimaginable connection with a man who became my life-line, without whom I would sink and drown? This was more than simply sex and the intimacy of my betrayal is unforgivable, so I have nothing to offer. I drop my head and look down at my feet.

"How long has this been going on?" my husband barks, "Weeks? Months?"

I shake my head, still staring at my feet. I cannot speak.

Incensed by my silence, his voice cracks as he snarls, "I don't know what you've done to me, but all I can think about is either killing you or fucking you right now."

As he says these words I begin to cry and I am still sobbing as he swiftly lifts me up and carries me into the bedroom where he throws me onto the bed and tears my clothes off. I offer no resistance.

He is possessed and in his fury does not restrain his strength or wait for me to lubricate, but simply pulls his trousers down and rams his rock-hard penis into me as if to reclaim me. I scream in pain as he rips into me and the tears are now freely spilling down the sides of my face, both from the agony of being pounded without mercy and from the grief in my heart for causing this man to lose his trust in me. My eyes are closed and he commands me to open them as he pumps me harder and harder. I cannot look at him for fear of seeing the pain in his eyes mirroring the shame in mine, but he shouts at me to look at him and as I do, a small piece of me dies as I confront my betrayal staring back at me. He is a broken man, but even as I hold his gaze, I see that anguish turn into something darker as his black eyes glint angrily and I know he is going to punish me.

Fear propels me to quickly raise my knee to his chest as I attempt to push him away but he is so much stronger than me. I've always known this about him, but I truly had no idea how much he restrains himself every day when handling me. He circles his muscular arm around my small waist and effortlessly flips me over as he slams my breasts and stomach across his knees. He quickly hooks one leg over both of mine to keep them still and fastens my upper body tightly in place with one arm so I cannot move. I am utterly immobile, an unwelcome feeling of being completely helpless and at the mercy of another person. I cannot tolerate this suppression and start flailing when I suddenly feel a sharp sting followed by a flood of heat as my husband smashes his open palm into the right cheek of my arse. I stop struggling as the shock of the smack washes over me. Then the blows begin. Hard slap after hard slap after hard slap without stopping so I am afforded no respite whatsoever. He does not hold back and the pain is excruciating but I can do nothing to stem the pummelling, which seems endless and I feel myself slowly drifting into a black abyss.

He seems to sense I am about to pass out because suddenly the beating stops and as the gruelling burn rises in my tender cheeks, I am unexpectedly assaulted by his large fingers being shoved into my cunt. After the battering of my arse, the relief and pleasure I feel from this intrusion floods my pussy and he murmurs to himself, "you fucking whore, you're so fucking wet." He continues to slice four fingers in and out of my cunt and, against all reason, I begin to writhe on his knees in bliss, which enrages and excites him further. "You'll get no pleasure from this," he growls and lifting me off his knees, he flips me onto my back on the bed and pushes my knees apart with such force I think a tendon is going to snap. Wedging his strong body between my thighs he raises his right hand and smacks my wet cunt so hard I cry out in distress and almost pass out again. He continues to brutalise my vagina and as I struggle to squirm away from the agony being inflicted, he pushes me further up the bed so my head is now banging against the wall and the force of every slap on my cunt is smashing the back of my skull.

The dull thumping breaks his raptness and he stops to check if I am still conscious. My head is lolling and my naked mound starts to bruise. He asks if I'm okay, a fleeting concern, to which I quietly beg for him to stop. Instead, he straddles my shoulders, gripping the sides of my head with his muscular thighs and securing my outstretched arms with his legs. He forces his huge erection into my mouth, all the way to the back of my throat and I gag violently since my reflex is unprepared. Rather than gently easing his cock in and out of my mouth as he has always done, his fury drives him to defile my mouth with the entire length of his penis and as I gasp for breath, I begin to weep uncontrollably again. This seems to turn him on even more. He yanks me up, lies back and gripping my hair he shoves my head up and down onto his hardness as he throat-fucks me. I cannot break free since he has gathered my hair so tightly in his fist I know it will tear from my scalp if I try to move away. My natural instinct kicks in and I open up my throat fully to allow full penetration and prevent internal bruising. There is nothing to do but suck his cock and as my tears and saliva dribble down his length, he seems to grow even bigger and harder in my mouth with arousal and I begin to wonder if I will survive this rape.

Self-preservation detaches my mind from my body and I float upwards looking down at my body being violated by the man I love. My head bobs furiously up and down on the thick length of his erection as I pump his cock with my mouth, milking it so hard as if my life depends on it. He degrades me without compunction yet I feel no hatred towards him; the loathing I feel is inwardly directed for I am useless and worthless. I have no redeeming qualities and deserve nothing but hatred and revulsion from all those I touch with my poison. I am incapable of doing anything in life that is good.

I am a fuck-slut, a rape-whore, a filthy tramp to be maltreated and abused. I am an empty vessel full of holes to be filled and overflowing with cum, then left to languish in degradation after strangers have had their turn with me. I feel as if I am incapable of doing anything in my life with any aptitude. I no longer have the ability to cook, or drive, or rise each morning to go to work. I am unequipped to organise the household or even write a shopping list. I have lost the desire to listen to music, or watch television. I can no longer breathe without someone telling me to inhale and exhale.

I am filth, so I stop resisting this rape and surrender to my punishment.

My husband senses my resignation which does not please him since he does not want me to submit. He wants me to suffer the anguish of my infidelity and so he pulls his cock out of my mouth, tosses me onto my front and places his fist firmly into the small of my back to hold me in place. I feel the warmth of his spit being rubbed into my arse hole and I scream as he simultaneously wraps his arm around my throat, pins my wrists above my head with his other hand, and plunges his cock into my buttocks with the full weight of his body. My wail is strangled by the pressure of his forearm on my larynx and he ruthlessly proceeds to shred my backside as he buries his cock deep inside me. I can feel drops of his sweat trickling down my back as he grunts and pumps in a frenzy of ravishment and torment.

My body becomes limp and I withdraw into myself, blocking out the physical pain and the mental abuse I am being forced to endure. But he will have none of this for I am not allowed to escape my fate so easily. I am jolted back into the reality of my penance as I begin to gasp for air and realise my husband has removed his arm from my throat and has now placed his hand over my mouth and nose.

He is going to kill me, I know it. I crossed a line when I bared my soul to another man and now he is going to kill me for my treachery.

I panic as I search for air, but he is pinching my nostrils shut and the weight of his body is purging the air out of my lungs at the same time. My vision begins to blur and my body bucks and spasms in the throes for survival. My anal muscles clench tightly around his cock and with the guttural cry of a maimed animal, my husband shoots his load inside me as the force of his exertion rips my anus apart. His hand releases my nose and mouth and I greedily suck in oxygen while my husband, spent and exhausted, collapses on top of me.

I wait.

Eventually, he rolls onto his back and I feel his sticky seed dribble out of my ruined arse. He stands up and looks down at me with disdain. "This is how it's going to be from now on, you filthy whore," he spits at me. "I own you now, mind body and soul, and don't you ever forget it."

He walks towards the shower and I crumble with the realisation that my life is no longer my own and I will spend the rest of it atoning for both my sin and my demon.

The End