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[b][u][center]The Boss’s Sow

Part 4

For Foogo

By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

The boar fucked her face twice, but he thankfully left it at that rather than bending her over in front of Philip. He could have taken it that far, and much as Sallie would have been humiliated by it, she knew that there would have been no point in her trying to stop him. The deal, apparently, hadn’t been ended just yet. She had to make more ‘payments’ with her body to keep him from doing worse, and her husband, apparently, was more than willing for her to keep making them.

With her face splattered with boar seed and more than a little bit of it running down between her breasts, she leaned back against the wall and stared at the big pig as he zipped himself back up. He wheezed, chuckling and squealing.

“Well, look at that. The sow’s got it in her to do it, after all.”

“Mmmph…”

“You’ll not need to eat tonight, hehe.”

“…”

“Heh. You and your hubby better talk, Sow. Maybe you better tell him who the real man is.”

“Get out…” Philip whispered.

Sallie slowly looked back at her husband. Broken-armed and everything, he had finally said something, but it was so quiet that she was sure that she was hearing things. Too late, too, after he had already told her to suck the boar off so that he didn’t get hurt again, but it must have been real, because the boar looked at him, too.

“You say something, shrimp?”

“…”

Philip looked down and away, and the boar smirked.

“I thought not. You just sit over there while the real man has his fun.”

She shook her head. She didn’t want to think of her husband that way. Philip had always been the man that she loved, the one that appreciated her for more than her body, the way that so many others had. They’d loved one another, despite the secrets that he’d kept from her. She wanted that again…

But she couldn’t have that when he wasn’t willing to stand up for her.

The boar patted her cheek, guiding some of his seed down to her mouth. It was already starting to split, no longer so cohesive, so it was both slippery and wet and slimy as it went into her mouth. There was almost a crunch to it.

She gagged slightly, but swallowed obediently.

“That’s a good sow. Talk to the fucker; make him understand the deal if you want to keep this place…”

And with that, the boar was gone. She heard his trotters on the cement outside, knew that he was going back to his car and that he would be gone shortly. Yet, all of that was still a distant second place to the real issue of the moment.

What in the hell was she going to do with Philip?

She waited for the roar of the engine to fade, then slowly got to her feet. Her shirt had been ripped off, and so had her bra. Her flesh stunk of boar-cum and boar-sex, and there were chunks that weren’t cum on her chest. Smegma and more. She knew that would be marking her, too.

As she turned around, Philip took one look at her…and then he ran to the bathroom, running inside and puking. She stared after him, her mouth hanging open. She was the one that had been raped, that had been violated, and [i]he[/i] was the one that was going to run off and throw up? He was the one that was going to beg for someone to make it okay, when all he had to do was watch? No, when all that he’d had to do was say something, and he hadn’t even done that much?

She stared after him, another stake going right through her heart as she tried to imagine him as her husband still. Weren’t they supposed to look after each other? Had he ever looked after her? In all their years together, had he ever?

She wished she could say that she could think of a time when he had, but she couldn’t.

She shook her head, following him in. He was still bent over the toilet when she reached for the knobs that would start the shower. He was still wiping his mouth when the water started running.

“How could you?” he whispered.

“You asked me to,” she said in a voice as dead as his.

“He…he would have hurt me, but…but you…”

“You. Asked. Me. To.”

She couldn’t not be angry about that. There was a betrayal there, something that had pushed her to see things in a way that she didn’t want to. Now, there was no divorcing the mental image of her husband from the fact that he had begged her to suck off a boar. Was there much of a choice? No, but he could have been the one to actually man up and take it for lying to her for so long. He could have said something to at least slow it down, to show her that she mattered to him enough to be brave.

Instead, she’d just had to take it. Suck it, swallow it, get painted with it. She stunk of it, and that was enough to get her husband to throw up again.

She felt some small sense of satisfaction and revenge from that.

As she pulled her pants down, she could see him staring at her. She wondered if there was a sense of lust, still, or if the sight of her covered in cum got rid of that. She was still in shock, probably. Sallie knew that she should be feeling something, not be so analytical about everything, but there it was. It wasn’t stopping.

The water was hot. She ran her fingers through it and stepped one leg into the shower. Philip grabbed the other one.

“You shouldn’t have…”

“Then why didn’t you tell me not to?”

“…”

“You can’t be angry at me for this.”

“I’m not!”

“Then you can’t tell me what I should have done.”

“I…I…I’m sorry…”

The apology was something, but not enough of something. She pulled her leg free and stepped under the hot water.

“Order dinner,” she muttered. “I can’t cook tonight.”

#

Food ended up being Chinese, and not much of it, for that matter. She had always overestimated their resources, apparently, because he only ordered a couple of chicken fried rice dishes, and that was it. They sat together in the dining room, silent and staring down at their food for nearly ten minutes.

He finally broke the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Are you?” she asked.

“I…I am. I promise. I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I thought…I thought I could handle it. I thought I could make it go away. I thought –”

“Did you make any payments?”

“…Some.”

“They came for me. They came here, looking to get something while you were in the hospital. They told me…they told me the truth. They told me what you refused to tell me.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how many more times I can say it. I’m sorry!”

The thing was, she didn’t know if he was sorry for what had happened, or sorry that she knew. Sorry that he had done it, or sorry that he got caught? She didn’t know him as well as she thought she did, and he had lied to her already. What was to stop him from lying to her again, right here, right now?

Nothing. That was the answer. Nothing.

She stuck a fork in her dinner, slowly dragging another mouthful to her lips. She still stank of the boar, and she knew that was going to linger. Forcing the bite down, Sallie looked at the rest of her food. It didn’t seem like enough. It didn’t seem like anything near enough for the work that she’d put in so that they didn’t get kicked out of the house, or so that they didn’t get themselves beaten to hell and back.

She looked at the food on Philip’s plate. He was just pushing it around, not even bothering to eat. Did he feel that bad? Or was he –

No, he was just sick from her stink. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Give me the food.”

“What?”

“I said, give me the food.”

“But – but I need to eat, too.”

“You could have eaten for the last ten minutes. Instead, you’re just poking at it.”

“Well…well…you stink…”

“I got [i]face-raped.[/i] Because of you.”

He blanched at that, and he didn’t resist when she reached across the table and took his plate. She slapped it down in front of her and dug in, unable to help herself. Maybe it was angry eating, maybe she was stress-hungry, but it didn’t matter. She needed more stuff in her guts, and the chicken rice would do for now.

She devoured everything, taking a deep breath as she cleaned her plate and put it off to the side. Philip stared at her, his eyes wider than before, and she narrowed hers in return.

“What?”

“I…you…You’ve never eaten that much in one sitting.”

“I don’t think a pig is going to care about my figure.”

“What about me?”

“Well…well…”

Sallie wanted to be furious, still, but there was something in Philip’s patheticness that still reminded her of the softness that he had, and the gentleness that was under all that fear. She sighed, shaking her head.

“I don’t think either of us are going to get much time for that for a while.”

“But…but you and me…”

“If he smells you on me, he’ll be rougher.”

“…Oh.”

She didn’t know how she knew that, but it felt right. The boar had been an utter beast, intent on making his mark on her, leaving so much cum inside of her and on her that there was no question that she had been fucked by the big guy. Something about that made her feel like it would only make things worse if she and Philip had any kind of intimacy together. The boar would fuck her harder, use her worse, and it would…well, it probably wouldn’t go well for her afterwards, either.

They sat there in awkward silence for longer than they should have. With the way that things were going, she should have ended it, either going to bed or taking the dishes to the kitchen. But instead, she sat there, waiting, hoping that he would say [i]something[/i] to show that he understood what she was going through. A little empathy, a little bit of…of anything that might give her hope that he might actually want her to be okay, that he was worried about her rather than himself.

The closest thing to that was a slow, tentative reach across the table, taking her hand as she leaned against her elbows. He squeezed it, but didn’t say a word.

He was probably as lost for them as she was, honestly.

It wasn’t what she wanted, though, not nearly what she wanted. Sallie cried softly, covering her face with her other hand. He squeezed the hand he held, and she could feel his helplessness. He hated this as much as she did –

[i]No, he just doesn’t like you unhappy,[/i] some nasty part of her said. [i]He doesn’t know how to handle it, so he just stares, and hopes we stop. We make him uncomfortable like this.[/i]

The voice might have been right, but it didn’t make her feel better. She squeezed Philip’s hand back, trying to get some comfort from it. She felt a little, just a tiny, tiny bit, but it was enough to make her feel that little bit better. It was enough to remind her that he was still there, that somewhere, he still mattered.

She hiccupped, the sound cutting off the rest of her weeping. The tightness in her chest faded, and she shook her head as she finally let go of her husband’s hand.

“I think we should sleep.”

“That’s…probably a good idea,” he said.

“Come with me?”

“…Could you…”

“…Could I what?” she asked.

“Maybe try some more of the deodorant? The shower didn’t…you know…it didn’t help much.”

“…I…sure,” she said, shaking her head, getting to her feet. This wasn’t how she wanted to do this, but if he wasn’t going to shift, then she supposed she’d have to. Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to help them both.

[i]Please…just be better…be better for me…please…[/i]

Her unspoken prayer was like many others: unacknowledged and unlikely to change anything.

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: The breaking down continues, and Sallie starts to see just how unhelpful her husband actually is.

Tags: M/F, facial, boar, human, cuckolding, series, emotional, marked, musk, stink, humiliation, pain, cum,