"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.
