A Twisted Fate

The change in their relationship started before the baby came. His moods turning sour as her belly grew. He touched her less, kissed her less, fucked her less. By the end of the pregnancy, his only acts as a husband were to pay the bills and to take her from behind, hard and fast. For his pleasure only. She was his, he said, he could treat her as he pleased.

The baby came, a beautiful girl with her curls and his nose. Her form slowly returned to its pre-pregnancy state, minus some stretch marks and a slight distension that her abdomen now carried. She thought that he would come to love her again, as he did before the pregnancy when their love was new and full of promise for the future. She hoped that he again would see the woman he had loved when they were first married.

He doted on their daughter making sure she had the best of everything. He took her on business trips around the world and brought her expensive gifts when she could not accompany him. As she got older he attended all her plays, recitals, and games.

In front of the girl and any others he treated his wife like a queen, but behind closed doors, he was mean, spiteful, and cruel. He would comment about her ruined body, tell her that the whores he fucked were better than her and the only reason he kept her around was for the sake of their daughter. Sometimes he would take her against her will, telling her it was her duty as his wife. She belonged to him. But he would never strike her. Leaving marks would ruin his facade.

For many years she tolerated his cruelty. She stayed to give her daughter a good life, where she would never want for anything. Her husband was a well-known man in the community. Who would believe a wife that didn’t work and lived a life of luxury, that the man that the public saw could be so vicious? Who would believe that he could be anything but the charismatic, charitable man he’d shown to be?

Over time, his interactions with her became limited. He started seeing another woman, one much younger. He gave no care to who saw the affair or what people thought. He told others that his wife was not fulfilling her end of the bargain and that they had agreed that he could have a mistress. He moved his lover into their home and gave his paramour the run of the house, and the care of their daughter. But he would not let his wife leave. Divorce was not an option.

They lived separate lives. His as a man of power and authority, hers as a prisoner.

Online dating become all the rage. Meeting new people as simple as flicking your screen left or right. She met a man and they formed a connection with the use of email and online chats. She was terrified to give him her number in the event her husband would find out. Their relationship blossomed. He made her feel like a woman again. He spoke to her with respect and admiration. He got upset when she told him of her husbands’ callousness. He would ask for sexy images and compliment her on her beauty, her womanly assets. He made her feel like a sexual being again. Eventually, she gave him her number.

Each morning he would text her a lovely message, telling her all great things about herself. He would say to her that he loved her even though they hadn’t met. She would tell him that he made her happy and that she couldn’t wait to meet him, to touch him, to love him in person. Their relationship progressed over messaging and eventually led to phone calls, videos of her masturbating, and calling out his name. The calls short as to not be noticed by her husband, the videos proof of new love, a new romance. Eventually, they agreed to meet.

The day came and her new lover text her confessing that he was nervous and would she be okay with meeting him blindfolded the first time? She had already seen his picture but thought that it was fun and kind of naughty to have this secret so, she agreed. She checked into a hotel room, changed into some brand new lingerie, covered her eyes, and waited for his arrival. 

When he entered, he told her she was even more beautiful in person and that he had waited his whole life to meet a woman like her. He was lucky to have found her and he believed her husband was an idiot for not seeing what a wonderful woman she was.

Leaving the blindfold on, he made love to her. It had been so long since she’d had someone make her feel this good, this forward to the future, this alive. The sex was better than she could ever have imagined. His whispered words a reminder that she was worthy of love. Valuable as a woman. She believed she had found her soul mate.

They met again, and once more he asked for the blindfold to stay in place. Because the previous time had been so wonderful, almost erotic, she agreed. This time he was rough with her. Less making love, more passionate, and hurried. She enjoyed it and appreciated the less careful approach. They spent hours exploring each other’s bodies, doing acts that she had only fantasized about. She felt brave wearing a blindfold, grateful for the mask, hiding, yet in plain sight. He made her feel  whole for the first time since she was pregnant with her daughter.

They continued to communicate through phone, text, and email. Their daily messages full of wonder, delight, and hope. She came to savor those stolen moments, freedom from her prison.

The third meeting came and he said that he would like to have her blindfolded again, but only for a short while. He wanted her to finally see him and know her thoughts. He was ready for her to know all of him. They met in their usual room, her waiting in lingerie, blindfolded.

He entered the room, not saying a word. With care he undressed her, kissing the length of her, devouring her sex. His lovemaking becoming indecent. He fucked her with abandon, making her climax again and again. On the height of their passion, as she was climaxing for the countless time, she confessed that she wanted to see him, to know who her great lover was. He said that she should come one more time and then he would show his face.

Flipping her over to take her from behind, he placed her in front of a mirror. Fucking her relentlessly, his thrusts pushing her forward on the mattress, the echoes of their flesh crashing together, he whispered in her ear to tell him when she was going to come. Thinking that he wanted to come with her, she screamed out that she was there.

Grasping her hair in a vise-like grip, he swiftly removed the blindfold, exposing his reflected image. Yanking her head up, he plunged deep into her and said: “I told you, you are mine!” Then he let out a long groan.

In the reflection, taking her from behind, was her husband.

To see who else is writing for #WickedWednesday prompt # 414:Twists, click on the badge.

This is my first story of this type. Usually I write more fiction based and less based on real life. This story impacted my greatly when I was first told and I knew it needed to be shared. I’ll let you decide if the situation was as abhorrent as I thought it was. 

For another real life story and something a little less gloomy, see Role Play with Mister K.

For erotic fiction see Fiction by MrsK. If you’d like to see something else, try Submissive Journal, or Let’s Talk About.