A Threesome in a Covid 19 World Ch. 09

But he wasn't finished with my mons yet. He kept rubbing it before turning his hand sideways and stroking his thumb up and down it.

I could sense Frank was almost reluctant to move on from this stage. His eyes were obsessively boring into my crotch, his erection surging as he teased himself with its visual delight. I could almost sense he was torn between his need to take revenge for being denied its pleasure for the last six years and yet, with the reality of once again savouring playing with it, confronting the realisation what he was about to do would destroy it and deny it to him forever.

He ran a finger down the front of my mons, pushing the front piece of my bikini pants deeply into the crease that ran up most its length. He contemplated it, then flattened it out again, stretching the material into a smooth covering of the bulge.

While I shook and whimpered under him, I contemplated whether this was the moment. But the knife still rested on my stomach and he was squatting lower on my thigh, almost sitting on it, offering a limited angle of attack to his balls. If his old habits could be relied upon, his rise into an upright kneeling position as he took the panties off was the optimum moment of attack.

Eventually it seemed Frank decided to move forward. He lifted the string waistband of my bikini pants off my right hip and slowly slid the knife under it in a way that emphasised the push of the blunt edge against the top of my thigh. Looking me evilly in the eyes, he slowly severed the thin elastic exactly where it joined the top right corner of the front piece...

"I'm enjoying this. I should have cut your clothing off you when you were with me and you might have realised the stupidity of going."

I could see he was enjoying it. His erection was surging and copiously leaking pre-cum from the tip.

The cut edge of the side elastic had sprung back, but still came to rest on the edge of my hip. With all the pedantic care of someone with obsessive compulsive disorder, he carefully laid the side elastic out straight on the cushion next to me, momentarily leaving the material covering my mons in place.

He stared down at his handiwork for a moment, clearly exciting himself; obviously still postponing the completion of his task to let him saviour it for longer

I could see it was almost reluctantly that he eventually cut the waist elastic on the other side; once again laying the severed elastic in a straight line next to my hip.

With the waistband severed, with the knife resting across my stomach, slowly he peeled back the material covering my mons with his left hand.

He stared at it as he peeled it back. He stroked his thumb along the length of that part of my crease that ran vertically up the bulge of my mons. Then he seemed to have a change of mind, placing the material back on my mound and ironing it out smooth with his fingers, staring at it some more.

I can but guess that, feeling in total control, Frank could feel unperturbed by indulging himself in one final play with and visual absorption of the pleasure my mons gave him.

But I could sense his brain torn between his desire to pleasure himself with it and that to destroy it with my death.

Again he delayed by peeling it back again, fingering my exposed mons and replacing and smoothing out the material.

Through all of this I was still shaking uncontrollably while begging Frank to let me go, not to rape me and not to kill me and squealing appropriately when he intimately manhandled me. But I was also looking for the moment to strike back.

My time was limited. It was very likely that once he ejaculated, my death would quickly follow. I suppose there was a chance he might wait for another erection and another round, or even give me a beating first. But his refractory period was never short, Frank might feel the time pressure of Ned's return home, I would have already been stripped of the garments he obsessed over and his sense of perfection would have been spoilt by his own cum spilling out of my vagina. The odds weren't in my favour.

I sensed my moment may have come as he used the right hand, in which he held the knife, to forceful pull my bikini pants from under me. His purpose had been to humiliate and hurt me by pushing the butt of the knife into my crotch as he did it. But I'd forced my own butt as hard into the cushion as I could, to pin the pants under me, and to resist his pull. When it suddenly released and came out, he nearly stabbed himself in the stomach.

Gloating at having stripped me, he still knelt upright towering over me as, still holding the bikini pants in his right hand, he raised the gusset of the pants to his face, sniffing deeply at it. The knife now was under his nose, the shaft horizontal, pointing to his left...

"I'll take this one last opportunity to take in the smell of the living Amy. I always liked the smell of you. Think about it though. Your body isn't going to smell so nice as it starts to rot, is it. Pity. I might keep these pants because that moment is not very far away. Aren't you sorry you left me now?"

He closed his eyes as he sniffed deeply at them again, almost mewling in the pleasure he seemed to derive from it. The moment had come. If I didn't take it now his prophesy would come true.

I did something he didn't expect me to do, because I hadn't done it in the ten years he'd had me, even though he'd been in this position innumerable times.

I brought my knee up hard between his legs. As he cried out and bent forward in pain, I rose to a sitting position and hit the side of his head with my left fist. I'd needed to hit with my left hand to avoid the pointy end of the knife, and in the hope he might tumble him off me and onto the slate surround of the pool on which the sun bed sat. Unfortunately both the fact I had to hit him on the rise and with my left arm meant it wasn't the hardest hit I could have achieved.

But it caught him off guard and caused him to half sever the tip of his nose with the knife, leaving him leaning half off the sun bed, dripping blood from his nose and bent over with his left hand between his legs to deal with the pain in his balls.

He was momentarily disorientated and in a state of surprised shock and pain. I had to keep up the momentum of my attack until he was disabled. Whether it was in preparation to stab me or just to get the weapon away from his face didn't matter. As soon as I saw his right hand and the knife in it start to move, I used my right hand to push it hard back repeatedly against his face. This caused him multiple cuts his cheek and, with it getting close to his eye, to drop the knife onto the ground, just as I landed another blow to the side of his head with my left fist and raised my knee for another hit on his balls.

The knee to the balls wasn't as effective as the first kick because his hand was partly in the way and I didn't have as much swing room with him in his bent over, squatting down, state. But the punch to his head carried with it all the power my body could muster.

Stunned, he tumbled limp onto the ground, the knife somewhere under his body and his head hitting the hard slate with a noticeable crack as he got laid out flat on his back. But I still wasn't taking any chances. As my eyes followed his path, I saw as he landed his right arm start to rise from its landing position out to the side.

I rolled off the sunbed, landing a knee to his groin as my right hand pinned his right shoulder and the left pushed his right hand down with all my weight. With his forearm resting over the edge of the pool, I managed to dislocate his shoulder and cause a compound fracture of his forearm as I snapped it against the edge of the pool, all in one fell swoop.

Frank was now screaming and writhing in pain.

I got off him, as much to get away from the convulsions of his body as anything.

As I stood between his legs and looked down at his pathetic naked body, I wondered how much further I should take it while he was in this vulnerable state.

I won't say the thought of improving the world by stabbing him through the heart, or even just cutting off his cock and balls, didn't occur to me. At the least it would stop him ever hurting another woman like he did me; and very possibly whatever woman he was dominating in the years since I'd left.

Surprisingly, it wasn't hate I felt. Just an overwhelming desire for him never to be part of my life again, or for him never to hurt anyone else.

But I was thinking rationally enough to know that would put me in jail. The point of self-defence had passed. And I certainly didn't want the rest of my life burdened by the thought I'd actually killed someone; however vile they might be. That would actually be letting Frank cause the ultimate psychological damage to me.

His disabled arm was dripping blood into the pool where the bone stuck out. So without any great kindness, I brought it back over his body, causing him excoriating pain though the dislocated shoulder. Then I just couldn't resist giving him one last kick to the balls by stomping down on them with the back of my heel.

Frank was now screaming like a banshee.

Still keeping an eye on him, given the knife was still under his body, I reached for my phone to call the police; suggesting they might need an ambulance too.

Because we were out in the acreage area, it took them fifteen minutes for the first vehicle to reach us - the ambulance - finding me only partly wrapped in a towel, with a dried cum stain from where I'd cleaned up after having sex with Ned positioned right on my left nipple. But I was but otherwise naked, since I couldn't leave Frank to go and get dressed least he accessed the knife. He was still squealing in pain when they arrived; me ever ready to crush his balls again if he tried to move.

When I pointed out he'd tried to kill me and the knife was still under his body, they decided we could wait for the police before they attended to him however much he screamed in pain.

The first police car arrived a few minutes later, followed by a second, making four officers in attendance.

I briefly told them who he was, what had happened and that a knife was under him; also indicating I thought my phone had videoed the whole thing, or at least so much as was in focus after my hasty setting up of the camera.

It turns out the knife had penetrated his back as he'd fallen. Not deeply, but enough to compound his problems and leave even more blood on the poolside slate. With the help of the ambos, the knife was removed and, with my bikini pants which had ended up wrapped around it, put into evidence bags. That allowed the paramedics to more comprehensively access Frank and let me go and get dressed.

When I came back out, the ambos were still trying to reduce Frank's pain and get him ready for transport, the police standing by. I took the chance to show them the footage I'd recorded on my phone. It was better than I thought. It had captured my body from my jaw down to my knees and Frank's up to his neck when he was kneeling up; so more than enough, combined with the sound, to provide the full story.

But that meant my phone had to go into evidence too, as did my cut away bikini top.

Ned arrived home while the police and ambos were still there and was horrified by what had happened in his absence, almost in tears at the thought of what I'd been through and the possibility of losing me.

And Ellen, when she arrived home was almost inconsolable at the turn of events. The irony was, I had to comfort her; but very much appreciated the love inherent in her reaction.

As the word spread, I was almost overcome with the love shown to me by so many friends. Issie, Julie, Tash all our neighbours, my boss and work friends and so many others. My shoulders seemed permanently wet from people crying on them. It was clear these emotions were heart felt, not token gestures to comply with social norms. It really made me appreciate how lucky I'd been in my new life in Australia and what a contrast it was with my life with Frank in the UK.

Far from traumatised, I felt stronger than I ever had. Frank had come after me and I'd defeated him.

In hospital, he was found to have a cracked skull to compound the injury to his shoulder and arm, and a testicle so damaged it had to be removed. Personally I thought the world would have been better if they'd both been terminally damaged. A missed opportunity.

I now knew he'd spend time in jail, be deported back to the UK and I could be certain he'd never be allowed in Australia again.

In the next 24 hours, more of the story emerged.

Just outside the property, he'd parked the hire car he'd used and sat waiting until Ned had left the property. In the boot were several bottles of bleach, horse syringes, gaffer tape and a plastic sheet. The police said the bleach was probably intended to try and destroy any DNA evidence. In short, rape had always been part of his intention. As for the gaffer tape and plastic sheet, we never did find out. Although they did wonder whether the threat to tie up Ned might have involved an inclination to commit a second rape of me in front of him.

It was also found Frank had got into Australia notwithstanding the ban by becoming part of a film crew and getting a special exemption and then quarantining. So he'd gone to a fair bit of effort.

The video, the knife and the cut away clothing all made the case easy to prosecute and took a lot of heat out of the defence's cross examination of me. It's not that the defence lawyers didn't try to make me look like the party at fault.

My bikini pants were found to have on them traces of Ned's cum and my juices, in addition to Frank's pre-cum. But their attempts to slut shame me came to naught and made Frank look even more like the creep he was. If they thought I would be embarrassed by having to admit to being part of a polygamous relationship and having intense sex with someone twice my age, they didn't know me very well, or of my willingness to happily download the full story on anyone silly enough to ask.

I could answer all their questions with my head held high and my voice clear. Better still, in explaining I'd only ever had two lovers in my life, one who abused and raped me and another who'd offered me unconditional love and thoughtful, wonderful sex, it let me give them a full picture of what life with Frank had been like.

They also tried to slut shame me on the bikini I was wearing. But apart from the fact I was in my own home, I wasn't afraid to tell them that after being controlled by Frank and made to wear ugly, unflattering clothing, I enjoyed the ability to wear clothing that displayed and flattered my figure. And I gave them a similar answer when they tried to use the sexualised travelogue YouTube videos the Screw Girls and I had posted on our channel against me.

Finally they tried to paint me as a mere gold digger. I could see Ned almost incandescent with rage at that attack on me. But here again I felt I had nothing to be ashamed about. Ned let me live cheaply and save most of my income -- in contrast, I was able to say, to Frank who took it all for himself and controlled my spending. But that had let me buy and pay off a house in Mona Vale which I had rented out. I had low needs, asked little of Ned and I was providing for my own future and when Ned had wanted to change his will to let me share his estate with his children, I had asked him not to. I was confident of my future ability to stand on my own two feet.

There was little doubt Frank had committed a well-planned sexual assault with intention to rape or that he had come to kill me.

As I stepped down from the witness box the judge congratulated me on the clarity of my testimony and on the left hook which the video showed me knocking Frank to the ground with.

But on that first night, Ned didn't know how to deal with me; almost afraid I'd develop a permanent dislike of men and not want to be touched by one.

I had to persuade him it wasn't the case. Ned's love and caring was the very opposite of Frank's attitude to me, and I desired his love and touch, and a whole lot more of his body, as the best medicine for the trauma of the day.

He was horrified when he found me out cleaning up the blood around the pool later in the day. He'd been too busy fussing after me to even think about that being important yet, but I was looking for something to do.

That night as we settled into bed, I had him cuddle and penetrate me, wanting to and succeeding in falling asleep in his arms with his manhood inside me.