Blitzkrieg ~ Closed for LitShark

[fuckmeat]

Blitz·krieg (blĭts'krēg')
n. A swift, sudden military offensive, usually by combined air and mobile land forces.

German : Blitz, lightning (from Middle High German blitze, from bliczen, to flash, from Old High German blekkazzen) + Krieg, war

Katherine (Kat)[I'll leave you to choose her married name]
Age 30
5ft tall, black hair, fair skin, green eyes, 32A bust

Kat was awake before her alarm sounded. She lay in the bed that had been hers alone for so many months and tried to imagine her husband's presence there again. Her fingers slipped down between her legs as she fantasised about his gentle, generous lovemaking and how it would feel to have him inside her again. Kat rubbed her clit and arched her back a little, her free hand stroking over a hard nipple. She closed her eyes and imagined his strong, calloused hands on her, his voice murmuring low in her ear,his intensely masculine scent and his cock surging inside her, spurting the thick white hot cum that could make her a mother. Kat came into her hand with a soft cry, then headed for the shower, where she went to the trouble of shaving her legs and pussy for the first time in ages.

She had spent the previous day furiously cleaning the house and stocking up with groceries that she knew he liked. Her husband's tour of the Middle East had gone for months longer than they had originally been led to expect. Kat hadn't laid eyes on him in almost a year, though he wrote regularly and sent her the occasional picture of himself. Kat also sometimes got a phonecall from him, though he was never able to tell her much about what he was up to. Kat had also joined a group that organised penpals for soldiers with nobody back home and she was writing to three other guys now, all currently based in Iraq or Afghanistan.

Kat emerged from the shower and put on a tight, fitted shirt-dress that she knew he liked. Beneath it, she wore a lacy black thong, bra and hold-up stockings. Her replica of his dog-tag hung around her neck and she left her glossy black hair loose, the way he preferred it. Kat chose vampy make-up but applied it with enough care not to look cheap. Black kohl outlined her green eyes and her lips were a slash of sheer crimson gloss. She pulled on some knee-high black leather boots to complete the look and threw a denim jacket over the top.

A car horn sounded outside and Kat hastily grabbed her keys and purse. She had never gotten around to learning to drive so her mother-in-law had offered to drive her to the [barracks/base?]. She raised an eyebrow at her daughter-in-law's choice of outfit but made no comment as they wound their way through the traffic.

Finally, Kat found herself waiting with the other families for her husband's plane to arrive. Anxious, bewildered children chased each other in circles and excited spouses shifted from foot to foot. Only the servicemen's parents seemed able to keep much of a lid on things. Finally, they were informed that the flight they had been waiting for was cleared to land. Kat began nibbling nervously on her dog-tag's chain.

 

[LitShark]

Travis Newhaven

http://www.pbs.org/mediashift/files/YouTube%20soldier.JPG

It was the same nightmare again, the little eight year old Afghani kid. Kids had never terrified Travis before he'd served his tour of the "Sand Box", now all of his nightmares featured kids who ought to have been in school. There was no school left in Lashkar Gah, a small province East of Quandahar, at least not anymore.

Travis knew it hadn't been his unit's fault about the school, not directly. The orders came in from the top that the school was a hotbed for extremist propaganda, their mission was to force admission of girls into the school system. The American imposed sanction lasted all of three contentious days before the bombing left behind only jagged shards of wall and fresh clouds of rust colored dust and sand.

The young boy looked at him, face expressionless but eyes so full of hate that even the 6'3" Master Sergeant whimpered softly in his sleep. What the fuck did he want?

Go away. It's not safe here.

The little shit was reaching, still expressionless in his face, mouth hanging open like he'd been struck to hard. Only his eyes betrayed the deep ocean of desperate hate that pounded between the boy's ears. He was reaching, clearly reaching into his vest. He could have been scratching at fleas or pushing a trigger mechanism, Travis had seen too many friends find their answer in the form of explosions.

Stop where you are. Don't move!

The kid never got to what he was reaching for, not quite. His flesh exploded from within his ribcage, firing bits of shrapnel out of his chest. Blood sprayed from the wounds, registering with the same sound as Travis's M-16 assault rifle. All shots fired by the kid's chest tagged a diagonal line of gaping holes in the Sergeant's chest.

***​

A loud gasp brought Travis Newhaven back to his present reality, sitting up in the thin, painful jump seat along the wall of the clumsy transport plane. He was clutching at his chest, hand closing around the cold metal of his dog tags, reminding him that he was still alive, that the smaller tag wasn't wrapped around his big toe just yet.

"It's too early for night terrors, you know?" The young, black Private sitting across the deck from Travis grinned. "It's barely afternoon yet Sergeant. You gotta get back on American time now that you're cycling back to the world."

"Thanks... I'll remember that." Travis mumbled, feeling his ears popping aggressively as the plane scooped down toward the runway. "How long you been away?"

"Three long months. I'll bet you're on your second or third trip by now, huh? I see you got a nice little collection of stripes there. Working toward the bars?" The young man asked, seeming obnoxiously upbeat for Travis' taste.

"It gets tough to keep track when the officers stack tours in on top of each other." Travis muttered, tightening his shoulder harness as the tires hit a loud, bouncing skid on the runway. "I've been out for nine. Quandahar, Bagdad and Al Barah. I guess that's three tours. I- I don't even know... I don't even know what this place is like anymore."

The young man only nodded in response, taking his own measures to brace against the predictably bumpy landing. As the tires finally managed to scrape out the momentum of the hulking plane and drag it to a stop.

"I heard that." Private Donnelly finally replied.

***​

Kat was waiting for him, wearing that long tight dress that Travis vaguely remembered complimenting once or twice. Over that she wore a denim jacket, he didn't remember that piece. It had too many pockets, pockets put Travis on edge.

She seemed glad to see him at least, Travis took her up in a hug, not because he was glad to see her, or even because he desired her. It was merely what a husband did to his wife after being away, it was what was expected of him. He felt her lips against his neck, the warm breath that felt like the first time she'd exhaled in months. He knew he ought to feel something.

Instead he was numb, assessing the situation as it unfolded. He felt like he was watching himself from outside. Travis moved to break the hug, but found his wife Kat still clinging insistently to his body.

"It's good to see you again." Travis muttered, his tone almost impatient with this show of affection. Affection was weakness, such things were better handled in private. "I missed you too."

 

[fuckmeat]

Kat put her husband's lacklustre greeting down to exhaustion. He looked like hell and she wondered when he had last slept well or had a decent meal. Suddenly aware that she was clinging to a man who was holding her in a perfunctory, impersonal fashion, Kat broke the embrace. She stepped back and allowed Travis' mother to greet him. Stepping back and letting mother and son have their moment gave her time to examine his face.

Travis looked so different. He was leaner and more muscular, which somehow made him seem taller. There was not a spare ounce of fat on his body and it had made his hug feel hard and alien. Like all army wives, Kat had been warned that men did not come home from war zones without emotional and psychological scars but like all army wives, Kat had dared to hope that her man would be one of those lucky few who took it all in their stride. Travis looked haunted, there was no other word for it. His face was gaunt and his eyes were everywhere, as though he expected insurgents packing C4 to leap out at any moment.

As his mother moved away, Kat hugged him again. She couldn't help it, she could hardly believe he was actually standing there and part of her needed to touch him just to make sure she wasn't dreaming. She gave him a reassuring squeeze but oddly, his free hand roamed over her jacket. Kat looked at Travis, puzzled.

"Do you like it?" She asked, anxious to make small talk of some kind. "Your mom gave me a gift voucher and I got it in the sales."

Sandra Newhaven, Travis's mom, was also anxious to coax him out of his monosyllabic shell.

"Your father is looking forward to seeing you. We thought we could all go out for dinner tomorrow."

They had reached the parking lot and Travis remained silent and distant. Kat took his hand in hers and looked up at the sharp jut of his jawline, the way his neutral expression was actually a mask of tension. Her heart went out to him but she had no clue how to reach him behind that mask.

"Honey? Are you ok?" She asked quietly, holding his hand in both of her own.

 

[LitShark]

Travis hugged his mother, then found himself rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses as Kat pushed herself into another hug. One ought to have been enough, but she was feeling needy, and he was feeling impatient. His hands roamed her back, feeling for weapons out of habit while also searching to find what it was she was looking for from him. He just wanted to get out of there.

Despite Travis' impatience, his mother had to weigh in. She wanted him to put on a show for the old-man, out in public to be shown off to any who would look. Worse yet, he knew it would be a trap stocked with remote relatives and young brats who needed role-models.

"Um, I'll let you know how I feel tomorrow morning." Travis muttered, making his move toward the door and succeeding in dragging his party with him. "I'd really just like to unwind a bit before committing to anything, you know?"

Mom seemed to understand, but she was giving him the trademark concerned mother look. She was searching for a way to ask him what was going on in his head, but Kat beat her to it.

"Honey? Are you ok?"

Travis only sighed slightly, pulling on the door handle just in case mother had thought ahead to unlock it. No dice, he was trapped. Kat squeezed his hand in hers, trying to be reassuring, but Travis pulled his hand away.

"Look!" He shouted, startling himself with his lack of composure, regaining it with visible strain. "I just- I just need not to be jabbered at and doted over for a few minutes. Is that so much to ask? I'd really like to get out of these sweaty clothes and shower before being bombarded with a million fucking questions and pleas for attention."

Kat seemed stunned and hurt by his outburst, while Travis' mother just seemed more worried than before. The reply came in the form of doors unlocking and lights flashing to signify the remote unlocking of doors. Travis got in the back seat and closed the door after himself.

Part of him hoped that Kat would join him in the back, still concerned about his mindset. While he had no patience for petty shows of cursory affection, he had missed the soft curves of a woman. He missed Kat more than he was willing to admit to himself, but it wasn't something to be told. It was something he had to show her...

 

[fuckmeat]

Kat took the hint and went to sit up front with her mother in law. Travis's outburst had startled her but he had had such a rough few months. It must be very hard to fight passionately for your country when Uncle Sam had sent him all over the planet without home leave, where worn out men using second rate equipment diced with death against a bunch of suicidal fanatics who refused to fight fair. Kat wondered what sort of debriefing Travis had had and whether he was scheduled to see the army psyche. Travis would blow a fuse if she mentioned it though, better to quietly ask his commanding officer.

The journey home wasn't entirely without incident. Some migrants tried to clean the windscreen at an intersection, sloshing soapy water into the car and then wiping it clean. A young boy clamoured at the driver's window, his hand out for money. Sandra was reluctantly handing over some pocket change when a nearby motorcycle backfired loudly. Kat heard Travis dive sideways and take cover but she thought that turning around and saying anything about it would only annoy and embarrass him further. She leaned over and pressed the button to close Sandra's window shouting,

"That's all your getting, ok?" At the bewildered migrant boy, who was eyeing Travis curiously.

Sandra pulled up in front of their little house and Kat resisted the urge to fuss over her husband, opting instead to walk ahead and unlock the door while Travis retrieved his pack from the trunk. The place didn't look much different to when he had last been here, though there were a few more ornaments and things and a row of cards welcoming Travis home. Kat checked there was plenty of hot water for him to shower with, laid out towels and some of his clothes in the bathroom, then went down to play hostess to Sandra, fixing coffee and making smalltalk so Travis could have a little quiet.

It was hard though, practically ignoring him when she had been missing him for so damn long. Kat reasoned that once Travis had had a shower and some decent food, once Sandra had gone home and they were alone together, then they could cosy up and watch a movie or something and then get reacquainted.

 

[LitShark]

Pent Up

The hot water felt good cascading down Travis' skin, this at least was familiar to him. He hadn't anticipated how uncomfortable he now felt without his rifle, that he had grown so accustomed to carrying with him everywhere. He felt that most acutely when the boy had run up on their car in traffic on the way home, the sound of a motorcycle backfiring bringing back everything Travis had been working so hard to push down. He felt like an alien in his own home, this town felt completely foreign and he didn't even know how to talk to his wife or his own mother for that matter.

Travis kept the scalding water cascading down his body until the hot water tank was empty and the water flow turned cold. Turning the water off Travis let a faint smile creep over his face. Surely Sandra would have left by now and he could be alone with Kat at last. Though the modern military was integrated with women, it wasn't exactly like they made up a large demographic and fraternization among enlisted men and women was hardly encouraged.

Most of the men used pictures from home or porno magazines to "handle" their carnal needs on their own. Travis, however, had never quite mastered the art of the "Combat Jack". Somehow the looming threat of death always seemed to make him lose wood halfway through. But now, safe back at home, Travis had nine months of pent up aggression, loneliness and sexual frustration to take out on her. He didn't really even care if she was ready...

She looked ready though, in that tight fitting dress and slutty eye makeup. Kat was going to feel how he really felt about being home. She had to feel it, because the words didn't exist to explain it to her.

Travis didn't bother getting dressed again, it seemed like a waist of time, given his current objective. With only a towel wrapped around his waist and his nine inch cock standing at attention, Travis made his way down into the living room.

Shocked and disgusted by the sight of his mother Sandra, still sitting on the couch making idle small talk with his wife; Travis lost his temper again. A violent shift from eager optimism to malevolent fury.

"What the FUCK?!?" Travis bellowed from the top of the stairs. "Mom, it's time to go home. I'll call you tomorrow about dinner, okay? Right now, I need to be alone with my wife, who I haven't seen in almost a year. Got it? I'm really glad to see you and so thankful that you picked me up, but now it's time for married people things. The kind of things I'd rather not have you watching. Okay? I love you, goodbye."

As Travis was ranting at his mother, he was also descending the stairs, his hard cock barely covered by the outward jutting towel. He helped her off the couch and nearly shoved her to the door, ushering her outside by the time he said 'I love you'. When he said 'goodbye' he slammed the heavy wooden door in her face. He hadn't meant to slam it really, but his temper forced his hand and the entire house shook from the impact.

After throwing the deadbolt shut to lock the door against any further interruptions, Travis turned to Kat. His green eyes glimmered with malice and intent, the smile was once again painted across his face.

"I can't wait another damn second, Kitty-Kat. I have to have you. Right here and now." Travis insisted, marching across the room to her and closing the distance in only three steps. "Take that stupid ass jacket off and stand up so I can get my hands on that body of yours. That body that I've missed more than anything."

As he spoke, Travis' towel fell from his hips, leaving him completely naked and erect. As Kat stood, Travis tugged the denim coat off her shoulders in one rough motion, his lips attacking hers in the first sincere gesture they'd shared since his return. The coat bound her arms behind her back briefly as Travis tried to shove the jacket off her wrists to no avail. He raped her mouth with his tongue just as his hands followed her arms up to her shoulders.

 

[fuckmeat]

Kat watched, mortified as Travis hustled his mother out of the house. He was beyond rude and the tent in his towel was quite obviously the reason why. He slammed the door shut on Sandra with enough force to shake the house to its foundations. Kat flinched as the impact reverberated through the building. She wanted to tell him he was being an asshole but it was his first night home and she was loathe to pick a fight.

Travis turned to her. His smile was at once familiar and yet subtly different. There was a hard, lecherous edge to his gaze. After a year without sex Kat suddenly felt like a born again virgin; shy, awkward and worried that it might hurt like hell. Travis was well endowed and she had had nothing in her pussy except a couple of her small fingers on occasion. Seeing the need in him, Kat began to feel naive and gullible. He said he hadn't slept with anyone else but what man on active service went all that time without any kind of relief? There must have been opportunities; local girls, whores, colleagues even, had he really turned them all down?

He closed the gap between them and kissed her deeply, ripping her jacket off her shoulders and trapping her in it. His kisses were hard and hungry. Kat was flattered and pleased that he still found her so hot but Travis was forcing his tongue deep into her mouth and clamping her against him in a way he had never done before. She tried to just relax into it and go with the flow but his urgency was actually making her a little nervous. Kat freed herself of the jacket and went to work on unbuttoning her dress, backing away towards the stairs as she did so, trying to get her breath back.

"Let's go up to the bedroom."

 

[LitShark]

Travis watched impatiently as Kat began to unbutton the top of her dress. When she turned toward the stairs he set his broad hand on her shoulder and forced her to turn to face him, his hunger would not tolerate a location change, nor would he. As he spun her to face him, Travis captured her face in his palm, his eyes piercing into her.

"Fuck that, you're mine and I'll have you where and when I please." Travis huffed, his pent up sexual frustration and rage bleeding together to form a thick cocktail of overwhelming malice. "Right now, I want you right here and now."

With that, Travis slipped his fingers into the collar of her dress and pulled with all the might in his arm, sending buttons flying in all directions as he exposed her body to his view. His naked hard cock reacting to her body, bared to him. Without even asking he tossed her over the back of the couch and pounced upon her, roaming his hands over her body possessively, his cock pressing against the crease of her ass. Only the thin scrap of fabric of her thong separating their hot flesh. He bent over her and whispered in her ear.

"I'm going to do with you as I please and use you roughly. If it hurts, then that's just too bad."

 

[fuckmeat]

"Fuck that, you're mine and I'll have you where and when I please. Right now, I want you right here and now."

It was the most chauvinistic thing she had ever heard him say. It seemed like his time in the army had turned her husband into a rude, overbearing pig. Her eyes widened with indignation but before she had time to ask him who the hell he thought he was, Travis had ripped her dress open and the casual violence of the action made Kat shut her mouth. Now was not the time to confront him. He had been away so long that he needed to readjust and learn tenderness again. Tenderness was about the last thing on his mind though as he ripped the shreds of her dress off of Kat and then threw her down over the couch. His huge hands roamed all over her, groping hard enough to make her wince. Kat was beginning to feel like a piece of meat and she didn't like it at all.

Suddenly his lips were at her ear and Travis' low growl brooked no disagreement. "I'm going to do with you as I please and use you roughly. If it hurts, then that's just too bad."

Kat gasped in shock at his words, hurt and humiliated. Where the hell had he learned this shit? This was not the man she had married at all. How could he not care about hurting her? Kat pitched her tone equally low, suppressing the rage that was building in her at being treated like a whore or something.

"You go easy Travis, you hear me? It's been a long time for me too you know."

She tried to rise from the uncomfortable position over the couch but he was pressed too close behind her. His roughness was scaring her now and Kat didn't think she wanted to have sex with him at all.

"Let me up." She stammered, the fear evident in her voice now. "I don't like this Travis, you're scaring me."

 

[The_PG]

"Has it?" Travis whipped back as she tried to declare it was her first time too. He roughly squeezed her breasts together, before pinching her nipples just as she finished telling him that he was scaring her. Kat whimpered underneath him, but he couldn't hear her anymore. Scared... He'd been scared too many times to count. Did he ever complain about it? He told them to stop, but they never did. He wasn't about to stop either. It was his turn to show them just how unafraid he was; they wouldn't be scaring him anymore. Nobody would, no matter what they said or did- he would not be afraid of taking whatever the fuck he wanted.

With a growl that froze Kat in the midst of her struggles Travis reached down and removed her panties with an easy tug; the thin material snapping almost immediately. Her tightly toned ass was now bare, and for a second he wanted to take her ass. Just how ironic would that be? After getting fucked in the ass for 9 months by the damn government he'd return the favor to his wife.

Only... He could smell her pussy, and nothing smelled better than pussy.

Placing one hand on the back of her neck and pushing forward he bent her over the couch. His other hand went to her knee; where he lifted and placed the extending leg on top of the couch stretched out sideways. He spit into his hand and slapped the spittle against her pussy. Even though she was scared now, something had aroused her earlier; she wasn't bone dry. Sawing his fingers in and out Travis spit again, and jerked his cock twice before placing it right again her cunt lips.

Before thrusting his hips forward he brings her head up so that she is standing straight up, with the one leg out to the side, "Fuck... You..." He whispers softly as he bends, thrusts, and rises. The force literally lifts Kat onto her toes as his massive hard-on slices through her pussy and slams deep inside her pussy against her cervix.

"Your my cunt again, bitch!"

With another thrust to emphasize, it was all he needed to begin the steady fucking he'd been waiting for, for nine months.

 

[fuckmeat]

"Yes it has!" She shot back. "And my tits are supposed to be on the outside of my ribcage." Kat squirmed and bitched as he groped her but to no avail. Nothing was going to thwart Travis now and knowing that made her disgusted. He didn't give a shit that he was hurting and terrifying her.

He pinned her to the sofa and ripped her thong off, ignoring the fact she was tensed and totally unaroused. He shoved her leg up and slapped a thick gob of spit into her pussy. Kat twisted around angrily, trying to look at him.

"That a trick you learned with an Afghan whore? Get off of me!"

She wanted to get up and put some distance between them but he had her bent over the sofa too far. Travis crammed two fingers into her and poked about a couple of times while Kat seethed. He yanked her up by the hair and growled into her ear; 'Fuck... You.' Tears clouded her eyes at the words, the utter contempt in his tone. Kat felt suddenly nauseous.

Then he shoved his cock into her. She was just about moist enough to keep from tearing but that was about it. He didn't care though, ploughed into her until he was balls deep, lifting her up onto his powerful thighs, impaling her while she squealed at the pain of it.

"Your my cunt again, bitch!" It was a roar of triumph and Kat could do nothing but take his cock, defeated. Travis was still fighting a war and he was making her the enemy.

"You fucking bastard! You coward, so big and brave to overpower a 90lb woman! How dare you do this to me! And I'm nobody's... pussy. Stop this Travis... please!"

 

[The_PG]

Travis physically could not hear his wife's desperate pleas for him to stop. There was just the raging pulse of his own heartbeat and the muted screams that Kat let loose from time to time. Each thrust brought him exponentially closer to the desired climax. The amount of control he possessed right now was... Thrilling, it, more than the physical sensation was giving him the exotic pleasure that he'd never experienced before. Each thrust seemed to cement his control over his tiny little wife. She was nothing more than his cunt, his little fuckpuppet, his little toy that he'd been missing all of those months in the squelching hot desert. With each thrust a little bit of fear was quickly replaced with power.

In less time then he imagined he climaxed; filling her abused little cunt with plenty of his well stored semen until it was dripping around the place where his cock was swallowed by her pussy lips.

She was moaning in pain, in fear now, and it kept Travis rock hard even after he was done cumming inside of her. He stepped back half a step and used his strong arms to spin her around and push her down onto her knees.

"Open your fucking mouth and clean me the fuck off you little prissy. You don't say fucking no to me anymore. It does not exist in your vocabulary, you fucking understand me, cunt? No. You're not allowed to say no anymore. You say sir, yes sir, and nothing the fuck else." Roughly he grasped her jaw and squeezed it, forcing her to open her mouth before pushing just the head of his cock into her mouth, and then thrusting as much of the rest of his large cock that he could fit. The force was so strong that it jerked her head back into the couch; where he kept her pinned with his hands and cock. With a grunt of satisfaction he removed his cock and bent until he was kneeling right in front of her.

Travis's mouth was screwed in an angry, grotesque impression of an angry devil, "Do you fucking understand me bitch?" He slapped her, hard, while holding her jaw still so that she couldn't turn away.

"Well?!" He growled angrily.

 

[fuckmeat]

By the time he was done she had fallen mostly silent, acknowledging the futility of appealing to a man as possessed as her husband was. He never let up the pace and the pain in her abused pussy did make her yelp and moan quite a bit. When he came in her, he held her down and took her deep, making Kat panic about another possibility. She had come off the pill while he was away so they could start a family when he got back. If she got pregnant now though, while he was treating her like this? Kat decided she would have to get an emergency contraceptive in the morning and see her doctor about getting some more pills. If this was how Travis had been spending his time abroad, she'd need a fucking VD screen as well, how utterly mortifying. What if he gave her AIDs or something, from some foreign whore? She knew she'd never get him to wear a condom.

Travis cut into her thoughts by dumping her on her knees at his feet and forcing her mouth open. He crammed his slimy, cum covered cock into her face, making her gag on it disgustedly despite the fact he'd just blown a huge load inside her. She could only kneel there helplessly as he called her a 'cunt' again and told her she would have to obey him now. Travis had never used the word 'cunt' before he went away, not in front of her anyway. Now that was all she was to him, the only part of her he was interested in. It made her feel ill. Where was the man she had married?

He pulled out and knelt in front of her. Kat didn't even recognise the sneering, livid face of the man slapping her face hard enough to make her eyes water, demanding her compliance.

"Do you fucking understand me bitch? Well?!"

White hot anger and indignation got the upper hand in Kat. How could he treat her like this and not be ashamed of himself? How could he think he had a right to demand anything from her now? How could he even assume she was still his fucking wife after what he'd just put her through?

Kat sprayed his own cum into his livid face, shocking herself at her behaviour as much as Travis. She totally lost it, screeching at him and trying desperately to fight off his iron grip, kicking and clawing like a wildcat.

"You've got no right to treat me like this you fucking bastard! I waited for you, I worried and feared for you, all I wanted was for you to come home to me! Now I wish you'd got yourself shot or blown the fuck up! The only cunt in this room is you Travis! How dare you treat me like this! I'm not some Arab whore, I'm your fucking wife!" She fell still and glared up into his incredulous face, doused with a dilute solution of his own semen. Her tone dropped low. "Now get off of me."

She was straining against his hands on her now, teeth bared as though she wanted to maul his face off... Kat wasn't about to give in to him. Besides, though he had slapped and fucked her, he'd shown no sign of really raising his hand to her. Her loving husband was in there somewhere, under the macho bastard, the trained killer and the traumatised veteran... he was in there somewhere, she had to believe that.

 

[The_PG]

Travis seemed genuinely surprised. Not at what he'd done, but Kat's rebellious attitude. His surprise quickly slipped into more boiling rage. The tension in the room snapped as he lifted Kat, by the throat, a bit off her toes and as she clawed at his face he brought his fist into her gut while dropping his grip on her throat. Then he stood back and watched her drop to the floor. Her weak attempt to rise didn't satisfy the sadist that had suddenly grown into a once tender and caring person. Whoever this was, it wasn't Travis Clayton who had somehow got the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen to fall in love with him.

This was Master Sergeant "Claymore" Clayton.

Reaching down he took a handful of Kat's hair and wrenched her back onto her feet. The fight might have still been there, he ignored it, but just in case he slapped her across the face. Twice more then, once as a backhand and the other an open handed punch. He twisted her hair; baring her neck to his angry gaze and open hand which closed slowly until she began to make weak wheezing sounds. His eyes watched hers dim, just as he had to the insurgent who'd killed one of his men with a dirty knife. He stopped just before the light winked out.

"If you don't learn your fucking place. Real soon. You're going to regret it."

With a shove, he pushed her small frame onto the couch and stomped into the kitchen. Suddenly he was thirsty, of course when he opened the fridge he spotted the bottle of red wine. 2001 vintage. The year they were married, how fucking touching... He thought with a smirk as he popped off the cork with his mouth and swigged it straight from the bottle. At first he was disappointed to find no beer, but then he realized the wine was quite tasty and he wouldn't have a hangover in the morning. Just the thing to keep him going, he thought was a devilish smirk as he heard movement in the living room and returned. His chiseled body was covered in a fine coating of sweat, and on his forehead droplets were already forming. It was not hot in the house. This was something else.

Wiping his eyes of sweat, Travis set the bottle of wine down on the coffee table and stood glowering over Kat's form.

"What are you going to say to me when I tell you to suck my dick?"

Before she could reply he added, "Do it. Suck me."

"And it better be the right fucking answer."

 

[fuckmeat]

Kat began to quail as Travis' face became even more twisted and hateful. When he grabbed her by the throat, she reacted instinctively, clawing at his fist and then his face as he lifted her up. His strength was incredible. For years she had relied on his strength, been turned on by how toned and fit he was. That was before he went on his extended tour of duty, now Travis was hard muscle from head to toe. The fist to her gut was another total shock and Kat crumpled like a rag doll as he simply opened his other hand and dropped her. She knelt on the floor, retching and gasping, winded and shaking. He had hit her, the man she had been with for thirteen years and married to for nine, the only man she had ever had sex with, the love of her life, Travis Newhaven. She still simply couldn't believe it.

Her husband yanked her up by her hair, clearly not done beating and humiliating her yet. She twisted around on reflex until a vicious backhand took her breath away, swiftly followed by a punch that popped her jaw and crashed into her cheekbone. Unable to snap her head back with his fist in her hair, Kat took the full impact, light as it was from Travis' perspective, seeing stars as her eye socket exploded with pain that shot down the side of her face.

Before she had time enough to beg for mercy, Travis twisted her body and grabbed her throat, squeezing hard until she was choking. Kat could only stare up at him helplessly as her mind clouded and her body shook and bucked, desperate for air. He stood over her, her own husband, watching the life go out of her with feral satisfaction. He was going to kill her, she became convinced of it. Her eyes clouded with tears but they weren't of pain or fear, they were tears of utter betrayal. Kat's extremities were numb and tingling, her eyes rolling up and blackness descending, when Travis told her to learn her fucking place. Then he simply dumped her on the sofa and walked away.

She lay there, wheezing, spluttering and hauling air back into her lungs. Kat listened as the fridge door opened and closed, followed by the soft pop of a wine cork. So he was drinking on top of his savage temper? Fantastic. He stalked back into the room, naked, dewed with sweat and swigging from the bottle. Kat shot him a look of utter loathing and disgust as he swaggered over to her. She scooted into the corner of the sofa, her eyes begging him not to attack her again. Her face was red where he'd punched and choked her, she could feel the hot, swollen skin pulsing. She'd have bruising by morning. By morning, she could go to the police or Travis' commanding officer. She wasn't about to let this become their new status quo, no fucking way. He set down the wine and towered over her, looking impossibly tall from Kat's vantage point.

"What are you going to say to me when I tell you to suck my dick?"

She shook her head slightly, reflexively but he moved closer, his flaccid cock and heavy balls swinging towards her face. Kat fell still... well, still but for the fact she was visibly shaking.

"Do it. Suck me."

Her mouth was suddenly completely dry. She didn't want to go near his cock, certainly not when it appeared he had been using women abroad and learning to totally disrespect them. As far as she was concerned, he could have any number of venereal diseases. Kat moved sideways and he shifted to block her, assuming she was bent on escape. There was nowhere to run though, she wouldn't outpace him so far as the end of the room. Kat didn't want to know what he would do to her if she tried either. She had decided that tonight she would have to do whatever he wanted. In the morning, while he was sleeping off his wine fuelled fuckathon, Kat could slip out and report his ass to somebody. Kat reached out and grabbed the wine bottle, taking a long pull.

"I hope you get crotchrot from your Arab whores Travis. I hope it fucking falls off." She informed him, mock cheerful.

Before he got around to beating her to a pulp for her smart mouth, Kat took hold of his soft cock and started sucking it. She had sucked his cock countless times before, had lavished it with attention over the years, learning what he liked best. This time though, she sucked him with the same enthusiasm she applied to household chores. Her head bobbed and she sucked rhythmically in a way that she knew would get him hard but that was all. She didn't want to be anywhere near his cock and they both knew it.

 

[The_PG]

At one point durign those nine months in the blistering sun and unbearable sandstorms Travis remembered thinking fondly of when he'd be able to say I saved it all for you. It was going to a romantic night, with the two of them having fucked most of it away as they rapidly tried to make up for all the time they had lost and the children they never had. He was going to whisper it in her ear as he took her from behind as they lay side by side, one of their favorite positions, exhausted and covered in sweat just as he came inside of her and rubbed her clit until she came seconds later. The saddest thing was that it was true.

There wasn't a time over there that Travis had given a woman a second look.

It wasn't even that the servicewoman were ugly or bitch, or that the Arab women were 'off-limits' because of VD. Travis just didn't want anyone else other than Kat. Kat, who he had right now, and could have anyway he wanted.

Only there weren't anymore romantic moments. Not even as he spoke those words he'd meant to say tenderly, and with so much love he had felt sure she would begin to cry, "I saved it all for you, baby."

For once he didn't use a curse to describe Kat, and she either appreciated it or got to thinking about something else. Her blowjob didn't get any better, but neither was she struggling anymore and as long as he'd been without this it didn't take much for Travis to shiver and unload a torrent of stringy cum down her throat. She swallowed it without any need for him to tell her too, but once again forgot to clean off his cock. With a light growl Travis took a thick handful of her hair again, and made her watch as he poured wine over his cock and allowed it to drip down his legs and over her face. The red tears reminded Travis of all the bodies he'd seen; the woman crying over her twelve year old son who had gotten caught in a firefight. The blood pouring out of his open skull, down her cheek; where it began to mix with her tears.

"No!" Travis barked. He didn't want to go back there.

He was here, with Kat, "Do your fucking job." He growled lowly, as he took a swig of the bottle and realized he poured a little too much of it out. With a curse he finished the bottle and tossed it in the general direction of the trash can, but missed. It didn't break, but rather it rolled over the wooden floor before thudding against the wall and forcing the last little bit of whatever was left over the white paint. More blood.

"No! No! No!" Travis screamed at the wall. He turned away from it and concentrated his unseeing gaze at his wife who had finally either figured out just how crazy he was or that he would hurt her again and again if she didn't do as she was told. Somehow Kat managed to clean him off without arousing him again, and at that point he began to feel both the jet lag and exhaustion of his sexual dominance. Picking her up off the ground he pushed her towards their bedroom and bathroom.

"Go get the shower started, you fucking stink. I'm going..." Nervously he glanced at the white wall stained with red wine. "I'll be right in," As soon as she left Travis got a rag and cleaned up the splatter, but he didn't bother with the mess he'd left in the living room. It didn't stand out on the black couch and it was easier to ignore. Before finally heading into the bedroom he reset the house alarm with a new code, and armed it. Then he ripped the phones out of the wall and took the battery out of Kat's cell, he threw them all out the window onto the lawn.

He found Kat in the shower standing nervously against one side of the wall.

Stepping in after her, he picked up a bar of soap and washcloth. He handed them to her with a look that said, 'You know exactly what to do. So do it, bitch.'

 

[fuckmeat]

"I saved it all for you baby." He informed her, his tone suddenly gentle.

Who the hell else would want it now? She thought but didn't say.

A few hours ago, when she would have believed him, that knowledge would have made her weep in his arms. Now it just made her even more hurt and angry. If it was a lie, he obviously thought her gullible enough to swallow it down with his bitter tasting cum. If it was the truth, it made his total metamorphosis into a violent rapist all the more chilling. She did cry but for all the wrong reasons, tears flowing down to mix with the saliva and precum coating the base of his shaft. When he groaned and came in her mouth, she swallowed it down without hesitation, hoping desperately that he would be done with her and go to sleep. When he had finished spurting into her mouth, she pulled away, refusing to look up at him.

That proved to be a mistake.

Travis grabbed her hair again, making her cry out in surprise. The next thing she knew, red wine was cascading down onto them both, coating his cock, his legs and her face. She swallowed some out of necessity but before she could make the grave error of asking him what the fuck he was playing at, Travis crammed his cock back into her mouth like he had the last time. Too late, Kat realised he wanted it sucked clean again. Fucking asshole. She bit down on her mounting fury and did as he wanted, anything to make Travis leave her alone and go to bed.

"No!"

He bellowed, there was no other word for it, an animalistic sound laced with desperation and fear. It went through Kat like a knife to the gut, yanking on her heartstrings even after everything he had just done to her. He was her partner of thirteen years, to ache when he suffered was instinctive now. She froze, then dropped his cock from her mouth as though it had burned her, clueless as to what he was refusing or denying. Her gaze travelled up his his body and kat actually flinched away from him, horrified at what she saw.

Travis stood over 6ft tall, lean and muscular, broad shouldered and powerful. He was an intelligent man and a capable soldier who had done an extended tour of the middle east and come back to her in one piece. Now though, he wore an expression of blind terror, his face grossly contorted like a frightened child. And he was looking at her, staring at his own wife who he had beaten, raped and poured good Italian wine over. Kat couldn't handle him looking at her like that but then his eyes focused and he seemed to see her again. Instantly the suffering left his features, like a mask falling away. And then, in another fraction of a moment, the menacing sneer returned in full force. She stared up at him helplessly, beginning to shake again.

"Do your fucking job."

Kat resumed cleansing his cock and while her face was buried in his pelvis, the wine bottle hit the wall. She flinched so hard she damn near bit him.

"No! No! No!" He was screaming now. At this rate she wouldn't have to worry about contacting the police, the neighbours would do it for her. Kat shook violently as she continued to clean him. Time seemed to shatter and slow down as she knelt there, too afraid of him to dare pause or look up, as afraid of what she might see as of what he might do.

Eventually he pulled her to her feet and even before she was standing Kat could sense that his rage had subsided. When he propelled her towards the bathroom she was so relieved. She turned on the water, as hot as she could stand and scrubbed herself clean. She even turned the showerhead on her pussy, parting her labia to clean herself thoroughly of all trace of him. By the time he joined her, she was done washing, just standing unsteadily against the cubicle wall, shellshocked. He thrust the soap and washcloth at her and she complied wearily, washing him as a mother might wash a child. There was no intimacy, no admiration of his body, no lingering.

When she was done, Kat stepped from the shower and dried off quickly. She pulled on a t shirt and panties, grabbed a blanket and stalked off to the lounge, where she curled up on the sofa. No way was she getting into the marital bed with a man who had just raped her.

She was too shaken and exhausted to notice that the phone had vanished or check the alarm. She just curled up and let the tears fall, deep sobs that rocked her battered and exhausted body.

 

[The_PG]

Only the smallest fraction of Travis wanted Kat to come to bed with him, well, only the smallest fraction of his brain would admit it. Underneath the nervous thoughts and swirling testosterone his body craved the soft sensuality of sleeping next to her light body. To feel her gentle breathing and listen to her soft snoring with a hand draped over her hip, or tucked up against her breasts; holding her against him as he slept. The urge was so strong that when the part of his mind that was in control directed him into the bedroom alone he froze halfway through the door and shook violently between going forward and back out into the lounge. The strangeness of the moment frightened him. He swallowed thickly and took several large breaths before he was able to plunge forward and slip underneath the covers. The bed smelled, wrong. It felt... Wrong.

It was too soft.

Rolling off the bed with a pile of covers and taking his pillow with him Travis slipped onto the floor. He was asleep in seconds as the firm ground underneath his body felt very familiar. Way too familiar. Just like the red wine splattered against the white wall. The dreams crept back into his mind and began to destroy any new found confidence from earlier with Kat.

Children with amputated legs and arms. Tugging on his satchel searching for candies. Then Private Wallawitz found one still bleeding, and in seconds... The child exploded, from the inside, and Wallawitz was dead. So was Private Newton. A rib from the boy went straight through his jugular. The corpsmen couldn't stop the bleeding in time. He'd watched- just fucking watched! As his soldiers life slipped through the corpsman's fingers.

Tears streamed down Travis's face and pooled against his hand and cheek. He looked as though he was praying as his knees curled up into the fetal position and whimpers left his mouth.

Then the real terrors came. Watching bad things happen to good people was terrible, but it was just like a sad movie. Doing bad things to people, good or bad, was not natural. Some men were born killers, but Travis was not. The first time he had shot a man was from nearly three hundred yards away, but he'd been the only one shooting and watching the body fall was like having his stomach removed through his throat. He held it all back in front of the men, but that's when things started to change. It seemed like every time after that it came closer and closer, so that two weeks later during a particularly well coordinated attack from the resistance he had chocked the life out of his first young boy. The others came later, but it got worse. Travis could still see each and everyone of their faces.

They asked too many questions. That was what the problem was.

Too many questions.

Why? Why had he killed them? Why had he choked the life out of a fourteen year old man-boy who was probably only fighting to protect his mother and sisters? Why, why were they there?

They kept asking him and Travis couldn't answer them. All he could do was beat them back. He punched and scratched, kicked and even shot them.

That as when he woke up covered in sweat and shivering from head to foot. His fist was sore, bleeding in fact, and the dresser that he was snuggled between with the bed at his back had several dents and scratches in it. He swallowed thickly and picked himself up off the floor. First he cleaned and dressed his wound before searching the kitchen for anything to drink, he found some Jack Daniels, but decided in the end to just go with water. His stomach had warned him violently when he got his first whiff of the Jack Daniels. Travis reclined against the fridge and slid to the base, before burying his hands in his face and sobbing, once. Silently the tears continued to drip. He felt... Crazy... Like nothing he wanted would ever happen. He didn't have anymore control, nothing, absofuckinglutely nothing.

Except Kat.

His head came up slowly at that thought. Very slowly.

 

[fuckmeat]

Kat leaped awake, confused and disoriented, her mind paralysed by fear. There was someone in the house! She sat up, lurching to her feet, surprised to find herself on the couch. Another thud and a masculine cry sounded from the bedroom. She snatched up a nearby ornament and stared at the hallway and staircase. Travis. Travis was in the house. Her husband. Her abusive rapist.

Kat padded across the laminated floor, then upstairs to the carpeted bedroom, nudging the door open softly. At first it looked like he had fallen out of bed but closer inspection revealed he had curled up on the floor. He was yelling something unintelligible, flailing against the dresser. He looked so vulnerable. Kat raised the ornament, wondering how much damage she was capable of doing with it. Not enough and she wasn't that kind of person anyway. She returned to the lounge and returned the ornament to its place. The clock on her DVD player told her it was 3am. There was wine staining the laminated wood floor and the bottle lying by the wall where he'd thrown it. Travis appeared to have wiped the wall clumsily, which was curious. Kat didn't have the energy to care or to clean it up. Let him see what he had done in the morning. Surely he would feel terrible for putting her through that? She looked over to where the phone should be, wondering if she dared call anybody. It wasn't there. She walked over, incredulous, touching the empty phoneline socket as though expecting it to be a trick of the light or something. He had ripped the phone out. Bastard had known what he was doing all along then, maybe he wasn't half as crazy as he looked. She searched her purse in the kitchen and her cell was gone. Kat began to panic. She looked around the house as much as she dared too but couldn't find the phones. Kat decided it was time for action, pulled on some clothes from a pile of clean laundry, unwilling to go back in the bedroom. She had to get out of here.

Kat pulled on shoes and a coat and approached the front door. A winking red light told her the alarm had been set. Fucking asshole had known she was going to run. Kat struggled to keep her breathing quiet, the panic threatening to overwhelm her and make her do something stupid. She punched her code into the keypad by the front door. It beeped at her indignantly, continuing to flash red. She flexed her shaking fingers and tried again, slowly. Nothing. Travis had changed the code, there was no other explanation. If she entered another incorrect code she'd set the damn thing off. Bastard had her trapped. Kat walked around the ground floor of the house but could spot no way of leaving without tripping the alarm. There was no exit from the basement onto street level. Defeated, she returned to the lounge and stripped back to her t shirt and panties, unwilling for him to realise that she had tried to run. She returned all her things to where she had got them from.

Kat made a coffee and poured some Jack into it. She sat on the sofa, trying to get her head around what had happened since Travis got home. She had been so proud of him as he fought in the Middle East, believing him to be a good man and an ethical soldier. What if she was wrong? What if he had been an abusive tyrant out there? He was a trained killer who didn't seem burdened with a conscience, how the hell had that happened? Was he the kind of man who gave people reason to come over to the states and blow up government buildings? All her faith in him, her respect for him had been shattered.

Kat finished her Irish coffee and took her mug back to the kitchen. Her gaze fell upon a woodblock holding a set of knives. Maybe her only way out of here was to take him by surprise. She took the biggest knife and ran it along the whetstone a few times until it was wickedly sharp once more. Kat stuffed it down between the couch cushions and curled in her blanket again, intending to stay awake until Travis rose. She was mentally and physically drained though, so it wasn't too long till she fell into a fitful doze, plagued by images of the nasty grin Travis had been wearing when he abused her, his sardonic tone ringing in her ears all over again.

 

[The_PG]

When he woke up Travis was startled by his surrounding. Gone was the dull tan fabric covering him. Gone was the clean smell of the desert. Gone was cacophony of men waking up and cleaning their rifles or polishing their boots. The deep, cursing voices talking about the kill's from the day before, the mission today, or the Dear John letter someone had received the night before. In it's place? Silence. The smell of clean sheets and a clean carpet. Where...? Blinking rapidly Travis vaguely recognized his location, but until he stood up and shook his head from side to side he wasn't quite sure that it was real. But then everything from the day and night before came flooding back to him. Incredibly the first part of him that remembered anything was his dick. It was hard as a rock and sticking straight up his boxers; the head just peeking through the elastic waistband.

The pleasure. Kat's pussy, her mouth. A shiver ran through his body and his toes curled in the thick, warm carpet.

Then his stomach growled. Food? Yes, he was hungry as fuck, but he was horny as fuck too and anyways... He needed to see what that bitch was up to. He vaguely remembered doing something to keep her locked in, but she probably found some way to escape. That was his fault, for falling asleep without securing her properly. If he'd been able to hear what he was thinking Travis would have laughed, but right now it felt deathly serious. It was the same morbid fear that took his gut and tied it in circles whenever something went wrong over in the desert, whenever some desk jockey made the wrong calculation and now he was responsible for the lives of his men. The cold fear gripped him powerfully and he stalked silently out of his bedroom and into the hallways, making his way carefully towards the open living/dining room area of his house.

In his eyes every corner held a new danger. Guns, stashed in the drawers. IEDs under the loose and slightly disjointed rug. Rebels hiding behind every door and window. Kat... Sleeping in a ball on the couch next to the blood, no, wine stained cushion and floor. Travis blinked and let out a long breath that he hadn't realized he was keeping held.

She wasn't gone. How could she not be gone?

He knew he'd done things. She had screamed and told him pretty much that she was leaving.

Travis walked around the couch until he was standing right in front of her; his bare feet made no noise and his breathing was both light and rapid. His eyes tenderly tracing her shoulder line where her tee shirt had slid just enough to reveal some of her bare neck. The soft lines of her cheek and jaw; now distorted by bruises that he'd caused. Why wasn't she gone? The question spoke directly to his paranoia; something wasn't right here. Something was out of his control. His mind demanded to believe that she would leave, yet she was standing right in front of him, defying what he had done to her last. Defying his control. Thwarting his demands that he made not so obvious. Leave him alone.

Suddenly rage welled within him.

Fine.

If she wanted to stay then that meant she wanted more, and so did he. The pressure in his groin that had vanished as fear took it's icy grip blasted back with a heat and passion so fierce for a moment he thought that he would cum just looking at her softly sleeping face. With a sadistic twist of his lips he realized he could do just that.

Stealthily he took his cock out of his boxers and began to stroke it. Long, hard strokes; the ones that never kept him hard over in the sand soon had him cumming in long white lines as fireworks burst behind his eyes. Two ropes of the sticky substance landed in her hair and on her face, two others drizzled onto her plain tee shirt. The last pooled in her hand where it gripped the blanket tightly. With a smirk he wiped the last bit off on her arm and returned his cock to it's place. Without a second thought he moved off to the kitchen to satisfy the two other urges that, with the sudden release of the previous one, were demanding to be fed. First food. A huge bowl of cereal would suffice. The second was a drink. He thought about drinking some coffee with his Jack but tossed the idea aside as the first bite of the alcohol entered his throat.

No, this was perfect.

Everything was perfect. Until he took his first bite of cereal. The cardboard taste didn't go down well.

With a snarl he dumped the cereal down the garbage disposal and returned to the living room. From behind the couch he reached over to pick up Kat and bring her right back to fix him some breakfast. "Thanks for sticking around you stupid cunt, I want my breakfast, time to wake the fuck up!" He snapped in her ear as he began pulling.

 

[fuckmeat]

Kat was dragged awake and to her feet. She yelped and touched her face, something warm and oozing was on her. Was she bleeding? No. As the cobwebs were blown from her mind by Travis' growled demand for breakfast, the scent of the substance revealed it to be semen. Filthy bastard had cum on her face. She grimaced in disgust, scowling at him. Hell would freeze before she cooked breakfast. Belatedly, Kat remembered the knife and leaned backwards, retrieving it from between the couch cushions. She could feel she was marked and bruised. She could run out into the street and ask the neighbours to call the police. Fuck Travis, she wasn't taking this.

Kat let herself be steered by Travis for a second, long enough for him to think she was complying but not long enough for him to clock the knife hanging by her hip. Then she took him by surprise, moved around him so he was between her and the couch. She brought the blade up into the juncture between the top of his left leg and his groin. Kat twisted the blade around, scraping his skin, poised now to slice off his cock and balls. She pressed firmly to show she meant business, making a shallow cut and keeping pressure on it. Kat looked up at her husband, rage and hatred blazing in her eyes.

"Take your filthy fucking hands off me, disable the alarm, unlock the front door and open it." She snarled at him, her voice low pitched and her teeth bared. "You're gonna let me go. You let me leave Travis and I won't report last night. You'll keep your career and I won't put you in jail." She was lying but he wasn't to know. "I'll do it. I can kill you and walk. It'll be self defence. You keep me here and I swear, every chance I get I'll tell the whole fucking world what a spineless, wife-beating, raping cunt you are."

 

[The_PG]

Startled to find himself feeling so comfortable in such an uncomfortable position at first Travis didn't answer. He stared Kat right in the eyes and wondered if somehow, one of those boys he had killed had a parent who knew someone that could make or pay Kat to do this to him. Then he realized the very idea was ridiculous. She was just trying to ruin his control, trying to upset the stabilizing factor in his unstable mind; her.

Still he was comfortable. Even with a knife to his Johnson.

Calmly he replied, "I can't do that with a knife between my legs, bitch."

"You better push it against my back, about six inches above my waistband." He continued to instruct her, "That way you'll puncture my lung and I won't be able to yell, and I can still walk that way." He waited, and could almost feel how much she wanted to just go ahead and remove his dick, but more importantly not cave in to his instruction. However, it was more then obvious that he really could not move with that thing between his legs, it was obvious he was right. Finally she complied, shoving the blade a little too hard into his back and puncturing the skin.

Travis didn't even blink. His mind was cool, his face impassive, there was nothing but a mask over whatever he was thinking behind the flesh and bone of his face. Walking towards the front door and the alarm gave him roughly three to four seconds to come up with a plan, and he did; calculating the fact that Kat was just holding the blade an inch from his back after she saw the blood dripping down his white shirt. She had just woken up, and he was walking in front of her. Since there was already movement a strange one wouldn't result in immediate death. Probably just a deep incision of some sort, or if he was lucky nothing at all.

It was like he was back there teaching his young soldiers how to disarm an opponent.

The skill was like riding a bike; it came right back to him.

Spinning to his left, away from the blade in her right arm, and forward at the same time gave him enough distance and separation to snatch the closest thing. Three pieces of mail. At first Kat looked shocked, and then angry that he'd gotten away. The mail quickly crumpled into something of a stick in his hands as he kept backpedaling while Kat came forward at him with the knife.

Travis tripped on a pair of boots, his he realized too late, and he hit the floor hard. Kat continued to come, but in the process lost her aim as she was forced to follow him towards the floor. He lashed out with his leg, catching her in the side of the leg just below her kneecap. In order to stop herself from landing face first Kat naturally extended both hands, but managed to keep hold of the knife in her hands even though she suffered several bruised knuckles for the effort.

In the deep recesses of his mind Travis gave her credit for such determination, but immediately the thought was replaced by his plans to end that determination with a little will of his own.

In a flash he returned to his feet and rushed at a halfway raised Kat who tried to protect herself by thrusting the knife at his gut. He slapped her wrist aside with the bundle paper; catching part of the paper but the mail was tightly packed and didn't quite slice yet, nevertheless it didn't make it to his skin and that was all that mattered. Their bodies collided and he tackled her to the floor. With a half-roar and half-snarl he snatched her tiny wrist with his hand and pulled the knife to his throat where he pushed it against his jugular vein.

"If you want to stop me. You'll have to take something that really matters Kat."

Travis's eyes blazed. Daring her to just push a little and end everything right at that moment. He really didn't care, maybe it would be better?

 

[fuckmeat]

Everything happened so fast. Kat acted purely on instinct but Travis was trained to know what people did instinctively when fighting over a knife. Her back hit the floor as he tackled her, knocking the wind from her. She couldn't even scream as Travis landed hard on top of her, his livid face inches from her own, grabbing her hand and pressing the knife to his own neck. Kat gasped helplessly as he taunted her, daring her to kill him.

Kat lost it. She'd been so utterly terrified for so long that something in her mind just snapped, compelling her to defend herself and finish the horrific ordeal her own husband had put her through. She screamed, a guttural and ragged cry laced with despair as she brought all her strength to bear on the knife hilt. Her eyes were closed, she couldn't look, she just screamed and pushed with all her might.

 

[The_PG]

Nothing thought through Travis's head.

It was pure instinct. When he saw her eyes close and felt her bicep, triceps, and forearm tense he knew what was coming. He had thought it would be better this way, just to end it all, but his instinct knew better. Deep down in his gut something rebelled fiercely against the remote possibility of giving in to his nightmares as easily as this. With a gut-wrenching cry he twisted away and pushed Kat the other way. The spinning motion of both bodies caused the blade to miss by mere millimeters.

That little bit of crazy inside of Travis took over. The part that wanted it's control back from his nightmares.

He rolled back and pounced on Kat's small frame. His large body pinning her to the ground on her belly as he grabbed her wrist and wrenched the knife out of it easily. He dropped it nearby and it clattered loudly. Using one hand Travis pinned both of Kat's small wrists against he floor just above her head. Then he waited; breathing heavily. He couldn't think of anything to say after what had just happened. She had just tried to kill him, perhaps out of desperation, but the fact of the matter was that little part inside of him had wanted to kill her too.

And then he didn't.

She had to suffer for what she had almost done. Trying to wrench control from his grasp and almost succeeding. Though in a strange way he had most of the control until she actually decided to kill him. Their mingled breathing, the feeling of her small, tight ass against his crotch, and suddenly Travis realized what he was going to do.

Picking the knife back up he sat up on her thighs, pinning her legs as he continued to lean forward and pin her arms. Without a word he slid the blade against her skin just above her ass crack, and then he dragged it all the way up her back; splitting her shirt in two. Returning to her ass he let it slide between her legs, the steel kissing her skin as it sliced through her panties. Then with a powerful thrust he slammed the blade into the wooden floor just in front of Kat's face and behind where he held her hands. With ease he brought her hands up to the hilt and squeezed them against the plastic handle. It was a bit too small, and a little bit of her skin slipped onto the blade, but he didn't notice.

When he looked down he found his cock was hard.

A cruel laugh left his throat as he spit on his hands and jerked it once or twice.

"Get ready, bitch,"

Lowering his hips, Travis lined up his cock with her pussy and thrust forward.

The slam jerked her head towards the sharp blade, and she was forced to grip the knife tightly in order to stave off a cut straight down her forehead and onto her nose. A triumphant growl left Travis's throat as he began to fuck her steadily. Ignoring the slight stinging sensation that came with such a dry pussy. The raw fucking felt good, and her whimpering cries made it all that much more enjoyable.

 

[fuckmeat]

Travis shoved her, sending her sliding across the polished wooden floor. She hadn't even the time to get to her hands and knees before he was upon her again, landing heavily on her thighs and wrenching the knife from her grip. Kat silently cursed herself for taking the bait. She flinched as the knife hit the floor but when he grabbed her wrists, she offered no resistance, perfectly aware that there was no fucking point. The fight had gone out of her now. She was defenceless once more and had just pissed him off royally. She knew he was going to make her suffer and that she could do nothing about it. Tears stung her eyes and the injustice of it all but Kat blinked them away, knowing Travis wouldn't care.

For a moment nothing happened, Travis panted above her, savouring having the upper hand once more no doubt. Then Kat began to shake as she felt his cock getting hard against her ass. It made her feel physically sick that her helplessness and fear were turning him on. She was incredibly sore after last night too and the savage way he had taken her. Her pussy ached and her labia had been tenderised by his pelvis. She couldn't take another round, not yet.

"No, please Travis don't. Don't do this to me again!"

Kat tensed and squirmed but she knew she was going nowhere and tried to calm the instinct. She froze as the quiet but unmistakeable sound of the knife being lifted from the floor reached her ears.

"Please don't hurt me." She was hyperventilating now, her words barely intelligible on strangled sobs. "I'm... I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me."

The knife sliced her T shirt and she struggled to control her shaking body enough to avoid being cut.

"Don't cut me Travis... please... you don't have to hurt me." She stammered, over and over like a mantra. Kat knew just how inured to violence Travis must be by now. She also knew he was irrational and mentally ill. Kat knew her husband was capable of anything and what he considered to be reasonable force could well make her collateral damage.

The knife slipped between her buttocks and cut her panties. He was being precise but Kat couldn't keep completely still. She exhaled with a shuddering sigh as the cold steel moved away from her skin.

When the blade slammed into the floor in front of her face, Kat shrieked as though he had stabbed her. Her body shook more violently, dewed with a cold sweat now as Travis forced her to take hold of the hilt, slicing a finger open in the process. Tears of terror began to fall, making her voice choked and desperate as she repeated her plea.

"Please don't hurt me, you don't have to hurt me."

He laughed at her, a harsh, cruel sound that reverberated around the hallway.

"Get ready, bitch,"

She shook her head as he lifted himself from her body and forced her legs apart. She heard him spit and grimaced in disgust.

"No!"

Travis rammed himself into her, nailing her to the hard floor and cramming himself balls deep into her dry, tensed pussy. She screamed as she felt herself tear inside, then fell silent as her body was propelled towards the knifeblade pointed at her face. Kat gasped as she realised why he had put the knife there, deliberately setting out to terrify and possibly disfigure her. She couldn't even begin to comprehend Travis' sudden and total hatred of her, his deep seated need for cruelty and violence. The calculation and premeditation in setting up her predicament just twisted the jagged blade in her heart that was already trying to process rape and standard domestic violence. This though, it was twisted, sick and spiteful. She yelled and cried as he raped her again, feeling as though her slender arms would break with the effort of trying to keep him from pounding her face into the knife.