Killing Tink

Ch. 25. (Mature/triggers)

Alice sat in the chair dressed, as always, in an old Cotton T-shirt that used to be his. She despised clothing that constricted. All those days naked in a cage had ruined her. He started the session the same. The greeting, the handshake, leaning in for a kiss on the cheek.

Alice's posture slouched in an almost relaxed state and his spirit soared. He looked to his wife with a triumphant grin and found only her sour expression - distant and closed.

He squelched the disappointment. This wasn't about his wife. It was about helping Alice. Moving a step closer he talked about mundane things, weather, work, music, while resting his palm on her arm.

Alice didn't jerk herself away and his pulse raced. Perhaps she was truly getting there, a place she could begin to gain social skills and learn to live with people instead of around them. She was almost always animalistic and withdrawn during their touching sessions but today without her normal tensing and fighting, it was true progress.

He put his hand on her shoulder and kept the steady monotone topic of his conversations going. He mentioned Sophia, how she liked sunny side up eggs with syrup and from beside him his wife released a hiss. It was a rule. Sophia was never to be a topic of conversation in sessions. Alice's head snapped toward Calina and John turned to look as well. His hand dropped with the motion of the turn and landed on Alice's small firm breast.

The room sat silent and frozen and John knew he should move his hand back to a socially appropriate place, but he couldn't. He could feel Calina staring daggers into his back and it felt good. She wouldn't be upset if she didn't care. Perhaps he was important to her somewhere, beneath all the consuming feelings she had towards their daughter.

He slowly used the back of his hand to brush against Alice's nipple which perked and hardened in response. He knew it was just a physical manifestation, but it stirred him. He got on his knees in front of her and traced her lips and long neck with his fingers. He told himself it was about Alice, but in that moment it was all about Calina.

Calina didn't move. Alice's eyes glistened, and her gaze stayed straight on Calina. John felt dizzy as his breath quickened and his heart raced with the moment. He could feel a pulse in the room of building tension, an anger driven vibe that spoke to him.. it was a dangerous place, but he was the cause of it all...and it felt good.

He brought his body closer, ignoring the small twitches and new rigidity of Alice's muscles as he invaded her space. His heart pounded and His blood courses through his veins energized. He could feel Calina staring at Alice, and she stared back, the two locked together unsure about the shift in the room. John felt it too, the electric moment he had created and he sucked in that energy like an ancient succubus.

Alice flinched and John held her shoulders. Every thought screaming him to back up and regroup but every one of his senses telling him push further. He was helping my them all. If only he could help Alice, surely it would be proof to Calina. She'd be proud of him instead of disgusted. She'd see that he was worth something, and he'd never take a back seat to Sophia again.

He placed his lips on Alice's and the stillness of the room shattered. Calina gasped beside him and Alice made small puppy sounds unsure of what was happening or what to do about it.

Suddenly it was too late, the tsunami of pleasure of the moment rode over him demanding he take more, go further. It was more than a session, it was a consuming fire reigning down and he was God like--controlling everything but himself. Like a dog in heat his fully clothed pelvis began to rock back and forth with the pain of needing release. All thoughts of helping, caring about the process, or loyalty vanished below the waves of need.

Alice sat rigid, he panted, small particles of spittle sprayed her face as he lifted her shirt and took what he must, pleasure. He wasn't forcing himself, somewhere deep below the rigid muscles and terrified mask he could feel her wanting him too. He wedged his torso between her knees and roughly yanked down her underwear. Almost from outside his body he was aware of his wife clawing at his back. The scent of Alice filled his nose. It was too late, he needed this. He deserved this. Alice was his.

He drew his hand back and slapped Calina with all his strength. He had never struck her before and now it came instinctually. It was years worth of pent up desire to be noticed, heard, and felt, all delivered with one forceful swing. Even as his wife flew backwards it didn't slow his need. Her head smacked against the table and her body lay unmoving and it failed to stall his overpowering need. Something in him knew he should stop, go over to her and make this right but Alice. Sweet Alice gasped, and her eyes- those giant brown eyes alive with so much feeling that tears welled up. She cared.

* trigger warning*
He unbuckled his pants and yanked her off the chair. She fought him, clawing and grunting and it only intensified the fact that she was his. He climbed on her, thrusting himself forward until he felt her open, warm and perfect. Pinning her down with his arms he thrust over and over despite her writhing and cries. Finally, he came--a flood of release only achieved by embracing his feelings while staring at the shape of his wife's still body.
*continue now if you skipped above*

John shuddered with recall. That day had changed the course of it all. He remembered walking then, instead of checking on his wife, instead of locking Alice back in her room. He remembered walking. Right out the front door and down the street. He walked until darkness came and his feet hurt.

More memories hazy and dark tried to come into focus and he punched the shower door to stop them. This moment was. It wasn't about the past. It was about now. It was about Alice paying penance for her deeds. Tempting him, hurting him. Ridding him of his family, his future, all the labels that defined him.

Calina would be proud of him today. He was doing what he should have done a long time ago. Alice was a cancer. She'd done things. She'd made him do things. It was time to start over.

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If the sexual assault wasn't crucial to the storyline I would have dropped it--but it is. It was a breaking point for John and the set up on the first domino falling. Those hazy memories John holds that he isn't sharing with us- or even himself-- are the key to this whole story.

I apologize if this is triggering. It's not my intension to make anyone uncomfortable. Sexual assault is never romantic or acceptable.