The Gray Man Ch. 49C - Monica and Kelly

Dear Reader - this is a bit of a detour for Gray. I find myself in an interesting place in my life and want to try something that is a little bit different for our hero/anti hero. I hope you enjoy the short scenic journey on our way to Chapter 50, which will be Gray in all of his glory. This detour is also longer than I anticipated, so there is a part A, B, and C to this chapter. Thanks for joining along on Gray's journey. Thanks for reading ~ Pelican

Sunday around 1130, Kelly and Brent arrived at Russel and Monica's house. As usual, Brent was in a complete asshole. He loved hanging out with Rus because Rus was definitely not a threat. Short, overweight, introverted. Rus could attract all of the attention and loved the fact that most people who saw the two couples out thought that he was fucking Monica too. He was loud, obnoxious, and rude on his best day and this wasn't his best day. He started criticizing as soon as he walked in the door.

"Seriously, Russ?" Brent scoffed, eyeing the television with disdain. "When are you going to get a bigger television. Jesus, this is for watching some stupid ass Taylor Swift concert, not to watch my Commanders beat the shit out of the Li-Downs." He opened the pizza box, "What the fuck is this? Who ordered pineapple on pizza. Fucking pussies are taking over the world."

Russel's jaw tightened, but he forced a smile. "We thought we'd try something different."

"And Bud Light?" Brent added, pulling a face as he spotted the beer on the counter.

"That's not even real beer and they can't even tell the difference between a man and a woman." He strutted over to the kitchen bar, producing a couple of bottles of his own homebrew. "Now this," he proclaimed, holding up a bottle, "is real beer. Hefeweizen. Brewed it myself. Got a whole setup at home."

Monica shot a glance at TJ, who was descending the stairs. The moment Brent's loud voice carried the news about one of his Commanders would be missing the game due to back spasms, he couldn't resist another dig. "Back spasms? What a pussy, toss him a tampon and some Midol and tell him to toughen up. Fucking pussy can kiss my ass."

TJ's eyes narrowed as he crossed the room. He wasn't sure how he was going to handle taking Brent down before he started down the stairs, but now it was easy. He'd had enough. With a quick, decisive motion, he slapped Brent across the face. The big man's hand flew to his cheek, shock etched across his features.

He looked at TJ, "What the fuck? Do you want me to whip your ass?"

Kelly gasped, "Come on honey, he's not worth it. Let's just go. We will come back when Monica and Russel have taken their trash out."

TJ smirked, "You're not going anywhere, we have business to finish." TJ stood toe to toe with the larger man, "Unless you are a pussy."

Brent wasn't sure about what the hell was going on. "Kelly's right, you aren't worth it."

TJ smirked, "What a pussy." He walked behind Kelly as he kept talking shit, "You bragged about what you'd do to Evan, you bragged about your martial arts at The Pentagon and how you had made Marine's tap out, yet you won't defend yourself."

He reached around and cupped both of Kelly's tits, the large C cups filling his hands. She screamed but TJ hissed, "Shut the fuck up before I shut you up." He looked at Brent, How about it big man, will you defend your wife's honor? Let's go to the basement, big man," TJ taunted, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "Yoga mats are everywhere down there. You can put that martial arts stuff you brag about to the test."

Brent's bravado vanished, replaced by a flicker of fear. Kelly, infuriated by the insult to her husband, stepped forward, her eyes blazing. "My husband will beat your ass, Gray," she spat. "I'll put a hundred dollars on it."

Gray smirked, Kelly had big words, but she had zero protest as he blatantly fondled her tits in front of everyone. TJ's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with cold amusement. "You're on," he said, the challenge clear in his voice, but that's chump change. If you win, $5000 and I leave. If I win, I still give you $1000 but your bitch here works as a serving girl for the game. I'll even up the ante, if your Commanders win, another 5 grand, if the Lions win the bitch has to be topless because I need to tell ya, her tits feel amazing and I've been wanting to get a look at them since the other night at the game."

Brent was horrified. "I... I... I don't have my gi."

Kelly said, "Yes you do, we brought your car, you always keep it in the trunk. Show this asshole what happens to boys who challenge you."

Gray looked at Monica, "Get her keys and his bag while I enjoy your friends tits a bit longer."

Rus, Monica, and Kelly were stunned that their huge friend stood silently as his wife was groped. Monica sighed and went to the car and brought in Brent's bag. When Monica put it at his feet as TJ took ahold of Kelly's wrist. "I'm going to take her with me just so you don't run away. If you dont' come downstairs I'm going to fuck her brains out so you can listen."

Monica watched, her heart pounding. She should protect her friend, but she didn't dare. This was a side of TJ she hadn't fully seen before, and it both frightened and fascinated her. Brent had pushed too far, and now he was going to see just what kind of man TJ Gray really was.

Kelly found her voice, a bit breathless as she had always loved being manhandled and the fact that this man would overtly fondle her in front of her husband turned her on. She loved making Brent jealous, loved his protective side. She was a shameless flirt just to get her husband fired up.

"He's going to kick your ass. Brent fought guys from military and won all his fights. It's a lot harder in the military to fight. It was like 50 fights, or more than that I think. He is the only civilian to ever win The Pentagon jiu jitsu tournament. Right, honey?" she asked, looking at her husband with a proud look on her face.

"Um, y-y-yes. Right. I guess s-s-so." Brent answered in a meek whisper as he brought his eyes up from Gray's hands to her eyes. His eyes were pleading with her to be quiet. Actually, he wanted to actually tell her to shut up. As his opponent knew, there was not a civilian martial arts program at The Pentagon, Brent had never made anyone tap out. He was about to pay a huge price for his lies. TJ had seen through his bluster from the first minute. Brent was not nearly the man he claimed to be and knew at that time that he was not half the man that was standing in front of him playing with his wife's tits.

Gray just stood there with a smug look on his face, his eyes staring daggers into the larger man. Gray read Brent's eyes, they darted around looking for any escape, any distraction. That just fueled Kelly's words. "Look at him. He's still in such great shape, too. He never wanted to lose his edge, so he works out all the time." She looked at the very out of shape Russel, "That's just what real men do." she blabbered.

TJ looked at Brent, "Get dressed, I'll see you downstairs."

Monica wanted to shout how stupid this was, how juvenile it was. She would have until Kelly tried to humiliate Russel. She looked at Brent, "You know where the bathroom is."

TJ allowed Kelly to lead the way downstairs. When they reached the bottom she turned, "You are a piece of shit."

Gray laughed, "A piece of shit that made you bring a dildo to school and fuck yourself in the bathroom." Kelly gasped, "Monica told me last night after I fucked her."

Kelly froze, "There is no way you fucked Monica last night."

TJ patted her ass, "Just like I'm going to fuck you this afternoon." When the day started TJ didn't know where he was going to go with things, but in the words of his old Sergeant, "Sometimes you have to get ass deep in alligators before you figure out a plan."

Kelly shot a quick, "In your fucking dreams, asshole."

Brent trudged down the stairs, his GI looking stiff and unworn. When Russel mentioned this observation, Brent lied through his teeth, claiming he had to have it professionally cleaned after his last tournament to get his opponent's blood out of it. TJ shook his head as he walked to the center of the mats, an arena that was about to witness a harsh reality check.

"Black Belt? So we will do a black belt bout. Eight-minutes or first to tap 4 times," TJ said, acknowledging Brent's supposed black belt with a nod. Brent gave a curt nod back, completely oblivious to the customary bow that TJ offered.

From the very first second, Gray dominated. He threw Brent around like a ragdoll, applying holds that seemed designed not just to subdue but to inflict maximum pain. Brent tapped out three times in the first two minutes, a flurry of panicked slaps against the mat, each one marking another moment of humiliation. TJ started to toy with him, letting the clock run down while he continued his methodical dismantling.

"Thirty seconds," Russel finally called out.

With a sadistic grin, TJ executed one final throw, sending Brent crashing to the mat with a thud that echoed in the basement. The bigger man's lungs emptied in a pained wheeze. TJ leaned in, using his forearm to grind against Brent's face, turning it a bright, humiliating pink, blood pouring from his nose. Then, with a swift, practiced motion, TJ locked in a choke hold. Brent's struggles grew weaker until his body went limp, unconscious just as TJ had rendered the young punk in the parking lot.

The room was silent save for the heavy breathing of Russel and the quickened breaths of Kelly, who watched in horrified humiliation. TJ stood, stripped off his sweaty t-shirt. For the first time in the bright lights Russel and Monica noticed the scars on his back.

Gray looked down at Brent with a mixture of disdain and pity, walked over to the refrigerator where Monica kept cold water for her workouts.

He uncapped a bottle and poured it on Brent's face. "Guess that professional cleaning will have to wait," TJ said, his voice cool and controlled. "Bitches never fucking learn do you? Brent's blue eyes started to focus on the man that glared down at him. Fear was written all over him. TJ went on, "You WANTED to join but you didn't, you would have smacked a Drill Instructor, you made Marines tap out - funny that nobody has ever SEEN any of that. So another bitch boy talking a bunch of bullshit to his pretty little wife, huh?" he asked.

Brent's mouth was bleeding, his nose was bleeding as he got himself up on a knee. "Who the fuck are you?"

TJ smiled, "I thought you'd never ask. I am TJ Gray."

Brent threw up all over the mat. Gray had literally beat the living shit out of him. Even though he was 4 inches taller and 30 pounds heavier he was no match for the strength and fury of a very pissed off Ghost.

Kelly looked at her husband, his face was red, bruised and battered. His chest was bright red and she knew that there would be countless bruises on his body by morning from the relentless beating. In 15 years of marriage she had never heard her husband scream in pain until today. She had never seen him cry until TJ threw a towel at him, "Clean this shit up, Pussy, then join us for the game."

TJ winked at Kelly, "I'm the man your husband tried to have killed last week. I'll take a beer and a piece of that Pineapple Pizza that Rus ordered for me. He turned and walked back up the stairs, leaving Brent still gasping for air on one knee on the mat, a testament to the brutal lesson in humility he'd just been taught.

Defeated, Brent picked himself off the floor and grabbed a handful of smaller white towels from the rack mounted on the wall. He dropped again to his hands and knees and began to clean Monica's mats of sweat, blood, and his own vomit. He dried the floor, just as he had been told.

He had been intimidated by the man he knew as Patrick, but finding out he was The Ghost, a man that he had handed over to a terrorist was absolutely terrifying. He needed a plan but all he could feel was complete humiliation.

His face could not have been more red and the intimidation he felt was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Because of the fear, he couldn't even focus on the reality that he had been caught, and his wife was now in this killer's grip. He wiped the blood off of his mouth and out of his beard as he tried to dry his tears.

Just as he finished climbing the stairs he heard fingers snapping at him. As he looked towards the sofa he saw Gray who pointed to his own feet. "Come here boy, there's some more sweat here to clean up."

He wanted to run, but knew that would only lead to another beating. He timidly walked over to TJ and now stood about 5 feet in front of him. Brent tried to hand TJ one of the towels, his offering was met with laughter.

"Oh no, you clean the sweat boy, and if you do it well, maybe later I'll let you suck my cum out of your hot little wife's cunt, because before today is over, she will be my bitch." Gray lifted his foot towards Brent whose shoulders slumped in defeat.

Brent was cocky, but Gray took arrogance to a new level. He couldn't comprehend how he could be expected to do something so degrading.

Gray just laughed, "The question is will they send you to Gitmo, or to the Florence, or just one of the other Federal Prisons. I mean Gitmo is Gitmo - and of course with all of your clearances you know that even though we are told it's closed, it's not really closed. Florence though, 23 hours of solitary a day might suck, but at least there is less of a chance of being a prison bitch. A regular lock up though?" TJ laughed, "How well do you suck cock boy?"

"P-P-Please, Sir?" Brent begged, trying to avoid the inevitable situation as he began to cry again.

TJ smirked, "I am your only fucking friend, boy," he growled as he snapped his fingers and wiggled his toes. "Are we going to have a problem, bitch?"

"N-No, S-Sir. I-I don't w-want to have a p-problem." Brent stuttered as Gray's eyes grew harsh. Brent bent down to one knee and began to wipe TJ's feet clean. Years of frustration had boiled over as the smirk returned to his face.

"I thought so, bitch. When I snap today, you'd better fucking jump because US Marshal's will be here at 1700 hours.

"Y-Yes, S-Sir." Brent quivered as his wife descended the stairs. She was angry, humiliated, embarrassed, but there was something about Brent getting his ass beat that had strangely aroused her.

TJ nodded, "Damn, you look good."

Kelly sighed, "Have you fulfilled your part of the bet?"

TJ chuckled, "Rus, bring me my wallet please."

Rus picked TJ's wallet off of the breakfast bar and brought it over to him. Gray reached in and pulled out 10 $100 bills and counted them out. "I have, but you haven't. You had better hope your hubby does a good job cleaning my feet, because my first demand is a foot massage."

The trauma just grew for Brent, not only had he been made to clean his bare feet of his own sweat, but now Kelly was going to have to massage the beasts feet. As Brent looked up he realized that Kelly had borrowed a set of Monica's sleepwear. My God, he couldn't get over how hot she looked. Her full C cup tits were too large for Mon's B cup top and strained the buttons, and the small shorts stretched over his wife's ass almost obscenely.

TJ smirked as he looked at her, "Did Brent give me a concussion? I don't remember this being part of the bet."

Monica walked down the stairs as TJ spoke. She smiled, "Oh, there was more than one bet, Daddy."

TJ chuckled, "I am impressed baby girl. Very nice."

When Brent had finished it was Monica's turn to snap, "Your turn bitch," she said to her best friend, "Daddy said he needed a massage."

Unknown to Brent or TJ there had been no bet. Kelly wanted to know what Monica had experienced being fucked by TJ and Monica had told her that she would be the bad guy so that Kelly could degrade her husband with Monica's encouragement.

As Kelly knelt and gently massaged TJ's feet, her husband, Brent, slinked away and leaned against a chair, utterly defeated. Her fingers move rhythmically, kneading away the tension in TJ's muscles. Brent can't even watch, his face flushed with a mix of shame and exhaustion. TJ leaned back and opened the folder on his lap, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

"Brent Howard," TJ read aloud, his voice calm but edged with steel. "Six-foot-five, 240 pounds. Current Occupation: Program Management Analyst. Enlisted in the Army, never finished Basic Training - the note says they recycled you because you were homesick and your uncle pulled strings to get you released from contract. Damn Brent, you were investigated by the Secret Service for a possible affair with former Under Secretary of Defense Jennifer St. Jean. They found substantial circumstantial evidence but no definitive proof." Gray chuckled, "That explains a lot, Jenny always did like submissive men - until I buried my cock 9 inches deep in her and ruined her."

Kelly's hands faltered for a moment, ast the information sinks in. She looks at her husband with a mixture of pity and contempt. Brent avoids her gaze, his shame deepening. TJ put down the document and looked directly at Brent, his eyes piercing. "Is that why you betrayed me to a terrorist, Brent? To try to get back into her good graces?"

Brent blushed, his facade crumbling under TJ's scrutiny. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The silence in the room was deafening, thick with unspoken truths and shattered trust.

Kelly's hands resume their massage, but her movements are mechanical, her mind elsewhere. "You really did that, Brent? You invited her into our home? She stood up in church as a godparent for our daughter and you were fucking her?" she whispered, her voice barely audible but laced with disappointment.

TJ was in no mood to lessen the tension, "Trust me Kelly, he didn't fuck her, she fucked him."

Brent finally looks up, his eyes meeting TJ's. "I... I thought it was my only chance," he stammered. "I thought if I could prove myself, show her I could be useful... maybe I could get back in her good graces."

TJ shakes his head slowly, a mixture of anger and pity in his expression. "You compromised everything, Brent. For what? A woman who used you and tossed you aside? A disgraced woman? A woman without a country, a traitor. For what?"

Brent's shoulders slump, his defeat complete. "She... she... I'm sorry II made a mistake."

"A mistake?" TJ's voice rises, his anger barely contained. "Fucking her when you were married is a mistake. This though, this is traitorous. You betrayed your country, your friends, for a slim chance at redemption with someone who never cared about you. Someone who used you to climb the ladder. You got two men killed, Brent."

Kelly's hands still on TJ's feet, her eyes filling with tears. "How could you, Brent? How could you do this to us?"

Brent's head drops, his voice a mere whisper. "I'm sorry. I was weak."

TJ tossed two full color 8 1/2 X 11 pictures of the twins on the floor, the bullet holes visible just above the bridges of their nose. "This is what happens to people who choose St. Jean. Maybe you should call two attorneys, one for your divorce and one to try to keep you off of death row."

Gray reached his hand down towards Kelly who blushed, took his hand and stood. TJ pulled her to him and she settled on his lap, her head on his shoulder, her knees pulled up to her chest, her perfectly pedicured toes on TJ's thigh.

With one stroke of her blonde hair Kelly began to cry. "What am I going to do?"

TJ rocked her gently, "One step at a time. Today has been a lot. Let it go, give it all to me." Kelly started to sob, her tears felt like salt into an open wound for Brent, and nobody in the world gave a shit about his pain.

After 5 minutes Kelly sniffed, took a deep breath and looked at TJ. "One step at a time?: