| Title: Fugitive
Keywords: mf, nc, bond
A new dramatist of the absurd
Has a voice that will shortly be heard.
I learn from my spies
He's about to devise
An unprintable three-letter word.
by Caesar, copyright(c) 1991-2002
$Revision: 1.8 $ $Date: 2002/04/15 14:07:23 $
Marnie set the hot pot of stew onto the table. The sound of
her husband chopping wood outside stopped. She knew he would be in to
eat his lunch, as he did every day. Every day of the weekend, Dave
worked on his large house. During the week he slaved as a bank loan
officer. He loved the secluded house. She hated it.
She was always alone, except for her husband. There wasn't
anyone within ten miles and she didn't have a vehicle. And even if
she could, Dave wouldn't let his out of the house. He had made
that perfectly clear. Marnie had the bruises to prove it. In fact
she often had bruises, and her bottom was often too sore to sit down.
Her husband believed a woman belonged in the home and always obeyed
He came in, smelling of sweat and damp wood. Without a word
he sat at his place at the table - the head, of course. She handed
him a damp towel with which he wiped his hands off. Then she sat on
his left-hand side as he filled his bowl with the meat stew. He tore
off chunks of bread and ate heartily. Marnie barely ate and certainly
didn't talk. A woman only spoke when spoken to.
The happy couple had been for six years, two years
after Dave returned from Western Front. He never let her forget that
he had almost singlehandedly beat the Nazi hoard.
When he finished eating, his hand reached out and grabbed at
her chest, roughly squeezing a large breast. A shudder ran through
Marnie, knowing what she would have to go through in the next couple
of minutes. He pulled her dress apart, revealing her bra and ample
cleavage. Dave's eyes gleamed as he pulled her over onto his lap.
His breathing was already quick, and the look in his eyes was one of
hurried lust. Roughly he pulled his wife's clothes off her body,
tearing and ripping buttons off in the process, while leaving welts on
the women's still-young skin. He shoved his mouth over a dime-sized
nipple and bit hard; a hand roughly forced her thighs apart and
without preliminaries he shoved two fingers up his wife's dry vagina.
Marnie hated her husband, she hated her life, and she hated
herself for allowing herself to be in this situation.
The sex was as it always was, fast and hard. Remembering that
he was a "man", Dave threw his over the front of the table after
dumping his empty bowl onto the floor, then shoved his short stubby
cock into her still-dry vagina. His hands held onto her hips and
narrow waist, and he pounded fast and hard into her pained hole.
Thankfully, it never lasted long, and he came deep into her only
a moment after entering her.
Once before, she complained about their sex life, but never
again. He beat her so bad she took two months to heal.
Dave left the house, leaving the door open as he left,
buttoning his fly. Marnie sat up and without emotion dressed herself.
Then she closed the door and cleaned up the lunch mess.
The perfect marriage?!
Marnie stopped washing the dishes after hearing a car coming
up the gravel road. She looked out the window, seeing her husband
standing, watching the car approach. Any distraction to her life was
A dark man, wearing a brown hat and a suit, stopped the car
and got out. Dave put down his double-sided axe and walked towards
the stranger. Marnie wished she could hear what was being said; her
interest was sparked by the obviously well-off man. When the stranger
suddenly hit her burly husband in the gut, then followed with a knee
up into his crotch, Marnie yelled out, surprised.
The stranger looked up and directly into the eyes of the wife. She jumped back, hoping he hadn't seen her, but knew he had.
Her husband had collapsed onto the ground after getting hit, and
Marnie peeked around the window corner to see her husband being
dragged towards the house.
Her heart was beating fast; her hands trembled and she broke
out into a cold sweat. She heard the two come across the wooden
porch, one walking steady, the other stumbling, half- dragging.
Marnie stood rooted to the spot, unable to do anything to help her
husband nor to stop the stranger. She thought about going out the
back door, but couldn't make herself move.
The door flew open.
"Don't move, girl!" The stranger was holding onto her
husband's arm, half-dragging him, a revolver poking into her husband's
ribs. "Are you his wife?"
She nodded, unable to get enough nerve to speak up.
The stranger threw her husband into his chair, the one at the
head of the table, the "man's" chair. The dark nodded to her
husband. "Tie him up, real tight, doll!"
She couldn't budge.
"Move!" he yelled.
She took a cord from the under the sink, tying her husband's
hands to each side of the chair, then she tied his ankles to the legs
of the chair. The idea of letting a knot loose didn't even cross her
mind. She was too scared.
During this time the stranger had taken off his hat and
watched her work while browsing around their small house. He opened
the two doors out of this room, and looked in. Nothing. When she was
finished, he nodded to the pot of stew.
"That warm?" She nodded. "Get me a bowl." She jumped to
comply with this dangerous as he sat down at the table, facing
inward towards the room. Her husband hadn't said a word yet but just
glared at the stranger.
Marnie set the bowl and a spoon down in front of the well-
dressed man, then worked up the nerve to ask a question. "Bread?"
Her mouth was dry and only sounded like a raspy grunt. He looked up
into her eyes. "Would you like bread?"
"Sure, doll." He waited until she dropped a quarter of a loaf
in front of him, then he asked her, "How long you been married?"
Nervously, she answered, "Six years." She looked down at her
Between mouthfuls he mumbled, "That much? You hardly look
She noticed he ate slowly and daintily, relishing every
mouthful, enjoying his meal. "I'm twenty-two." She realized this
stranger was talking civilly to her, something her husband rarely did.
Marnie sat in a chair next to the dark man, her fear slowly
disappearing and turning to something else.
"How you get stuck with a like this?" Dave was about to
say something, but the stranger picked up the gun and pointed it at
his right eye, stopping any conversation. "Dame like you should be in
the city, the of some rich man." Marnie blushed, and the
stranger smiled at her. "Yup, should be proud to have a fine doll
like you! Hey, knuckle head, hope you treating your right."
Dave only glared at the man.
Marnie noticed his bowl empty. "Would you like another?" He
smiled at her and shook his head. She felt the blood come to her
cheeks and took his dirty dish to the sink. While she gently dumped
the dish onto the pile, she could feel the gaze of the dark handsome
man on her backside. Slowly she turned her head to look behind her;
there he was, staring at her behind, and as she turned he looked into
her eyes and smiled. She dropped the spoon onto a plate, causing a
crash, and she jumped. The stranger laughed.
"Yup, you sure have a fine looking wife. Hard to believe a
man like you could hold onto a looker like that. Hell, I'd sure
wouldn't want to lose a dame that foxy - make a nuts! Yup,
crazy." Marnie could hear him standing up. "Hey, doll, stuff that
dish towel in hubbies mouth."
Nervous and uncertain, she pushed the damp dirty cloth into
her husband's mouth, shoving until most of it was in. Dave just
stared at her, his anger written over his face.
"Go stand by the window." She did as ordered, wondering what
he was doing. She stood her back to the window the sun warm on her
back, facing the dark man. "What's your name, doll?"
Marnie noticed his eyes were looking up and down her body, and
she realized with the sun behind her, her inner thighs were revealed
through her dress. "Marnie."
"Pretty name. Are you happy with this pig, Marnie?" He was
standing behind her husband's chair, both of them watching the woman.
She nodded yes, but watched the floor lest he could see her
"Hmmm. That dress you're wearing doesn't really do you
justice. A figure like that should be wearing silk." He studied her
for two, maybe three minutes. She clenched and unclenched her hands
together in fear and something she could not identify.
She worked up the nerve to ask a question. "W..what's going
to happen to us?"
He ignored her, and continued to study her body. Smiling, he
looked directly into her eye, "Marnie, take off your dress!" It was a
She almost collapsed.
Marnie looked to her husband for help, but he just glared at
her. She realized if she disobeyed the stranger had the power to make
her do anything he wanted - look how easy it was to stop her husband.
No man, besides her husband, had seen her naked or even in her
underwear. Just the thought of being seen by this dark sent
shivers down Marnie's spine.
He frowned at her pause. His gun lifted up and pointed at
her. Marnie could see down the dark barrel. She was very scared.
Her arm felt like lead as she brought it up to her waist. She undid
her belt. Marnie felt her dress loosen on her hips, then it dropped
In truth, nothing but two inches down her front could be seen,
but the stranger squinted at her. Marnie shivered, knowing her
panties and bra were revealed to this total stranger. She could feel
the sexual heat from him, as she would from her husband, but she felt
different about it.
Again, the dangerous motioned with his gun, and she
returned to her work. Both her hands pulled the dress off her
shoulders, then she let it drop. She could feel the fabric fall past
her semi-naked back and past her buttocks. The cheap dress collected
around her ankles. Again her hands came up and then undid the hook on
the front of her bra. Marnie took a deep breath to steady her nerves;
her hands shook so much she couldn't even undo the familiar hook.
It opened, and Marnie looked up into the dark man's face,
pleading with him with her eyes. He smiled.
Marnie bit her bottom lip as she pulled the cups from her
heavy breasts, then let the bra fall from her shoulders to the ground.
A new feeling ran through her, one of rebellion. She stood straight
up, her shoulders square as the two studied her bare chest, both
sets of eyes focusing on her large nipples. She froze, watching the
enjoyment written all over the stranger's face. Her husband was mad;
his face was and looked like it was about to explode.
"Yup, a great-looking doll!" The stranger obviously enjoyed
what he saw. He pounded her husband's shoulder with his free hand.
"You're a damn lucky - hell, no wonder you live out here..." The
dark motioned to her panties, a look of expectant pleasure written
over his face.
She was determined to control herself throughout this ordeal,
but her hands shook uncontrollably when she hooked a thumb into the
hips of her waist band. Marnie closed her eyes as she pushed her
panties down her round hips and then her long legs. She straightened
up as she stepped out of the last of her garments. A shiver ran
through her; she could feel the nippy air against her furry sex, and
her nipples were hard and aching. The only comfort was the warm sun
on her back and ass.
"If you are real nice, doll, I may let your husband live."
The stranger smirked while leering at her naked form. "Go in there."
He pointed towards the door to her bedroom. "I'll be in presently..."
He was about to say something, but Dave began to struggle on his
binding. A quick chop with the butt of the pistol silenced him.
Marnie didn't see anymore, since she followed the intruder's
instructions, and with head down entered her marriage room. The sound
of her husband getting hit was still loud even in this room. She was
very nervous, her body shivering. She realized she was probably about
to be raped. But she wondered how different it would be from her own
husband's love making. As if she were awaiting her husband, she lay
on the bed.
The dark stranger entered the bedroom, and he slammed the door
behind him, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. Marnie wanted it to
be over - her husband only jumped her, then a few seconds later left
satisfied. But the walked to the end of the bed and just stared
down on her form.
He asked, his voice loud in the small room, "You happy, girl?"
A queer question, one Marnie realized she couldn't answer.
"Doll like you needs a real man. Not like that." He pointed
behind him towards her bound husband. "Spread your legs, girl, lets
see what's there!"
Immediately, Marnie obeyed. She forced her legs apart, wide
as they would go, knowing the stranger could see her flowering vagina.
Her most private spot was exposed, and she didn't feel anything, but
just watched the man's expression, oddly enough wanting him to enjoy
what he saw.
"Put your hand down there, make it real warm for me!"
Marnie was surprised. She wanted this sex-rape to be over.
Why didn't he just "fuck" her?
Her hand cupped her mound, and she felt a unfamiliar sensation
down between her legs. Of course she knew what it was...excitement!
Her flowered inner lips were indeed warm, and wet. Never with a had she been this excited, and not for five years had she felt this
enjoyable feeling between her legs. It confused her. How could she
be excited and not have felt it earlier, and with this strange
dangerous in the room?
Not for him, but for herself, she pressed her palm against her
clitoris, feeling the almost-forgotten familiar feeling of the jolt of
electricity spreading from her love button. Marnie bent her knees and
spread her legs as wide as she could, her eyes closed and her other
hand cupping one large breast. She went from cupping and rhythmically
pressing her sex to running a finger up and down the flowered-open
inner lips, stopping to diddle the hard little clitoris. Marnie
tensed up, not from the immediate situation in the other room, but
from sexual excitement. She moved her hips up and down in time with
her finger. The pleasurable noise coming from her mouth could be
heard throughout her little house, the moans, the little screams, the
heavy breathing. Visions of tenderness and warmth flashed through her
fantasies, hard throbbing cocks, a beach with rolling waves, a soft
tongue. Many random thoughts ran through her head, but none involved
Marnie orgasmed with a small delightful scream, her whole body
tensing up, her sex quivering excitedly, both her hands working on her
cunt. It lasted almost a full minute. She rolled over onto her side,
still feeling the after affects of her delicious self-fuck.
Only after her breathing came back to normal did she remember
she had a witness to her pleasure. She rolled onto her back and
opened her eyes. The dark stranger was standing in the same position,
his body naked and shining with sweat. He looked half-mad, his eyes
wide open staring into hers, his lower lip quivering. His hands
holding the foot of the bed were white knuckled.
She didn't feel fear or the need to just get "it" over with as
the walked around the bed towards her, only anticipation. As he
came from around the foot board, his naked sex was visible to her
hungry eyes. She watched its hard rough surface come towards her, a
new quivering from between her legs as it came up onto the bed and
then descended between her legs. Marnie watched the throbbing cock
until it disappeared from her view, then she closed her eyes and
Marnie felt the blunt end of the penis press against her slimy
slit. It forced itself into her accommodating vagina, slowly and
steadily, stopping only when it was seated fully, both sex mounds
pressing together. She could feel the unfamiliar hands rub and
squeeze both her sensitive breasts, focusing on her aching nipples.
Still he didn't move his cock, but she felt his mouth and tongue play
with first one, then the other nipple. She needed to feel the motion
that she had always dreaded from her own husband; she tried to move
her hips, but his weight crushed her against the bed.
Only when he was finished playing with her bosoms did he begin
to fuck her. His hands pressed her legs back to her chest, her knees
against her boobs. With slow in and out strokes, the stranger began
to fuck the wife, the renewed sounds of her enjoyment loud in
the small house. He began to accelerate, pounding his prick between
her soft wet nether lips, causing their bodies to smack together, her
cunt to make vulgar loud sound, the bed to squeak and groan.
When he was very excited, the stranger began to talk, not too
softly. "Fuck...you're fucking wet, doll...hold your legs
back...tighten your cunt... yesssss...fuck, you're sweet...come on,
fuck me, babe..." Among other things. Her husband never spoke during
sex, and this was something new, and somehow exciting.
Even his cock felt wonderful, slightly wider than her
husband's, the head capped with a distinct ridge that rubbed deep
along the walls of her vagina, the smell of the man's sweat, his musk
drifting into her nostrils. Every sense her body had was heightened
to new levels by this stranger. He fucked differently, and definitely
longer than she was used to. She could even feel another orgasm
building, but something was needed.
When the dark shot his load of sperm into the pretty wife,
it set off her own orgasm. For the first time in her life, Marnie
shouted loud and long with enjoyment, the sound accompanied by the
stranger's own yell of delight. He clenched up and forced his pelvis
against hers, the head of his cock deep inside her. Marnie enjoyed
another delightful orgasm, smaller than the first but still enjoyable.
The stranger lay above the exhausted woman, his breathing
quickly returning to normal, his weight heavy. Very soon he sat up
and quickly dressed. Marnie turned over onto her side, enjoying the
after-glow of her orgasm. She heard the dress, his movements
hurried. After a few moments his hand came out and gripped her raised
buttock, and he kissed its soft surface.
"You deserve better, doll." He closed the door after him.
Marnie lay enjoying the throbbing between her legs. She could
almost feel his hands gripping her breasts, his cylindrical cock
inside her warm tube. She moaned happily.
Three shots rang out; the first caused her to jump at the loud
noise in the small house, the latter two came quickly afterward.
Marnie sat up in bed, staring at the wall towards the other room. She
knew what it was, but could not believe it. She felt no sorrow for
her husband, only bewilderment.
She ran out of her bedroom into the kitchen.
Slumped over the table lay her husband, one in the back
of his head. A wad of money lay next to her dead husband. The
stranger was nowhere to be seen. Marnie collapsed onto the floor,
vomiting, the sight of the blood and gore over the far wall and floor
testament of the violence that just happened.
The car sounds startled her. She ran to the window and
watched as the dark stranger drove away, leaving her alone.