127 comments/ 285389 views/ 32 favorites The Art of Revenge By: charleybear Note to My Readers: Those of you who have read the other stories I have posted probably have noted a tendency on my part to be very vindictive. In "Cheaters Never Win" the vengeance came with the ultimate high price of murder and suicide. In" What Was I Thinking?" it came at the cost of a marriage. "Game Boy" had very little actual revenge but I hadn't worked through how to handle it at that time and I was critiqued on that point. Make no mistake, my intent was to raise your emotions to new heights, and the many comments to my stories showed I succeeded to do that whether you loved or hated any particular story. As you read this work and any future works I may post, please remember that it is a work of fiction based upon what might occur in real life, but not necessarily so. I also recognize that any such story might open wounds in the souls of some readers and I apologize for any pain my stories might cause you, it is not now and never will be my intent to hurt anyone. Finally, just to give you a hint, the reason I lean toward vindictiveness is revealed in this story. Enjoy (or not) Charleybear My name is John Carlson and I had been in Tokyo on business for a week. I left LA on Saturday at around 1:00 pm. and arrived in Tokyo on Sunday at around 4:00 p.m. even though the flight is actually only about 11 hours. The International Date Line plays havoc with those not used to it, but I was accustomed to the nuances of time change between the west coast of the USA and almost all of Asia. I am a self employed engineer, specializing in designing buildings to resist the stresses of earthquakes. I don't want to brag too much, but I am very good at what I do and am in high demand all throughout the "Ring of Fire" countries. Because of that I travel about one week out of every month. Hence, my current trip to Tokyo. My week had gone well and I was right on schedule to get back to LA for the weekend. I had called my wife Nancy and told her, "I will be leaving Tokyo on Friday at 5:00 p.m. and should be arriving in LA at around 11:10 a.m." I told her, "I miss you and I can't wait to see you." She asked me, "What time do you think you will be home?" I told her, "By the time I get my luggage and pick up the car I will probably there around 1:00 p.m. or maybe a little later." She said, "Good, I can't wait for you to get home, I love you honey." I smiled to myself and said, "I love you too baby, bye." She said, "Bye." I should probably tell you a little bit about us. I am 36 years old, 6'2" tall and weigh around 200 lbs. I have dark hair and I have a rather rugged appearance since I do spend some amount of time in the outdoors. I also work out at the health club so I am pretty well toned up. I am sure most guys think of me as being in good shape and no women turn away in disgust. Actually, I am an attractive man if I do say so myself. Nancy is more than attractive. She could be a model if she chose to be. Her looks are stunning and her figure never fails to turn heads, both men and women. She is 34 years old, has long dark hair, is around 5'5" tall and her body is proportionally perfect for her height and weight. Alright, for those of you who need to know she is 36C 24 35. Any man who wouldn't rate Nancy a 10 is probably on Arnold Schwarzenegger's "Girlie Man" list. She is a 10 plus. Can you tell that I am madly in love with her? As I said, I am a self employed engineer, specializing in designing buildings to resist the stresses of earthquakes. I make a comfortable monthly income, but as part of the fee for my services I have always received a small percentage of the monthly lease value of each building I have consulted on. Also as I said, I am very good at what I do and I have been very busy for the past 8 years and the total from all of the buildings amounts to over five million a year. My wife knows about the income we have but she pays very little attention to money. We only spend a small portion of the lease income and unless we have major purchases like vacation homes, automobiles or special items like jewelry and art. We do give quite a lot of money to charity and the rest is invested. Nancy just goes with the flow on what investments we have so I make almost all of the decisions. I do try to keep her informed though so she isn't out of the loop. One of the investments is in three health club franchises in the LA area. One is in Thousand Oaks, one in Santa Monica and one in Rolling Hills Estates where we live. I got in on the ground floor of a new franchiser that claimed to be "a step up" from the others and they are. We have done really well financially on those three health clubs and regularly work out at the one near our home. Only the manager knows we own the place and we get no special treatment. We just like to go there because it is very nice and close to our home. Nancy does not need to work and she chooses to not work. She is involved with a couple of charity activities on a weekly basis and does some fundraising activities for one of the nationally known hospitals. She also spends quite a bit of time at the health club keeping fit. Her week is usually quite busy with all she is involved in and enjoys being with me on evenings during the weeks when I am home and on weekends. Once in a while she will travel with me on my business trip. Well, back to the present. I arrived in LA on Friday at 11:10 a.m. as planned. That's right; I arrived 6 hours before I left. That sounds oh so wrong and pretty funny, but it is true. You have to remember the International Date Line and it just happens. Another example is if you fly from Detroit to Chicago you can also arrive before you left since the flight takes less than an hour and the time difference is an hour. That has nothing to do with the International Date Line, but it should help you understand my arriving so early from Tokyo. From Detroit to Chicago you beat the clock but from Tokyo to LA you beat the calendar. When I got in I immediately called home to let Nancy know I had arrived on time and she wasn't there. I left a message on the machine and went to get my bags from the baggage claim. It took a bit longer than usual for the bags to come out so I was just hanging around. As soon as I had my bag I headed to the shuttle to take me to my car. I knew that Nancy wasn't home so I decided to go over to my office and get some of my paperwork caught up so the next week wouldn't be so hectic. I got home a little after 5:00 p.m. and Nancy's Beamer was in the garage. The problem was that there was a Ford F150 parked in my stall in the garage. I parked behind Nancy on the driveway and went into the garage and closed the door. I snooped around the pickup truck a bit to see if I could tell whose it was. I saw a paycheck stub lying on the seat from the health club and noted the name. It was Roger Williams. I immediately got a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Roger was the epitome of the perfect male specimen. He was a personal trainer at our club and except for his facial features he could be Arnold Schwarzenegger's twin when he was thirty years old. And no, I don't mean he looked like Danny De Vito. Roger is about 6'4" tall, probably weights 230 lbs with not an ounce of unnecessary fat. He is sculpted to perfection. That feeling in the pit of my stomach didn't get any better as I thought about these facts. I went into the house and called out to Nancy. I didn't get a response so I knew she must be upstairs. The feelings kept getting worse and worse. I decided to move forward with stealth and caution to see what was going on. I crept up the stairs and down the hallway to our bedroom. As I neared the door I could hear talking and moaning. I was beyond feeling bad now, I was downright sick. Sick with the knowledge that the love of my life, my darling wife, my confidant, my lover was having sex with Roger. Apparently Nancy had made the mistake of thinking I was coming home at 11:10 a.m. on Saturday morning. She must have forgotten that the International Date Line plays havoc with the calendar. She must have thought that she had the whole night to be with Roger and have him leave in the morning. She thought wrong. I just stood there, I couldn't move. I stood in the hallway outside our room and listened. I listened for 15, 20, who knows maybe even 30 or more minutes to the sounds of their sexual activities and their conversation. I was churning inside, my rage was growing with every second, but I listened. "Oh Roger, you fuck me soooooo good," she growled. "Ohhhh, yess, ohhh fuck meeeee,"she wailed. "Your cock is so good in me, oh oh oh oh oh yessssssss, fuck me hard," she literally spit it out. "Come on slut, beg me to fuck that pussy of yours like you have never been fucked before," he shot back. "Oh God fuck meeeee, yes fuck me like you always do, hard and fast," she cried. "Fuck meeeeee, pound your cock into meeeee, make me your slut." I could hear him slapping up against her but I didn't know if he was taking her doggy style or missionary style. I just know he was pounding it to her big time because I could hear her grunt as he hit home every time. "Who gives you the best cock bitch?" he asked. "Oh God Roger, you do by far the best cock I have ever had," she answered. "I have loved having you fuck me while John is out of town." "Even better than that wimp husband of yours?" he prodded. "John's not a wimp Roger, but you do fuck me better than he does," she answered. "Now just shut up and use my pussy baby, use me hard and fast." I am sure if you took my blood pressure right then and there it would have blown the top off of the gauge. I was churning inside. I was in a rage. I was so hurt and disappointed but at the same time I was a steam engine ready to blow. I screamed, "You Sons of Bitches!!!!!" I stormed into the room. There they were with him fucking my wife doggie style and both of their backs to me. They jumped apart as I entered the room and both just stared at me with shocked looks on their faces. "Get off my wife you lowly mother fucking bastard!" I yelled. "Get your miserable ass out of my fucking house this minute you cock sucking slime ball. Get Out!" Nancy started to scream and cry and I told her, "I will deal with you next you fucking whore slut." "Now get your ass moving Roger," I yelled again. With that I grabbed him and started to push him around. Big mistake. He was a guilty son of a bitch for fucking another man's wife, and had I not grabbed him he probably would have left and I am guessing it wouldn't have taken him long. But, I grabbed him and he immediately turned defensive. But, you know they always say that the best defense is a good offense and he used that principle to the utmost. He grabbed me by the arms and started to shove me backwards. Nancy was screaming at him to not hurt me but old Roger didn't take much heed to her words. He kept pushing me back down the hallway and when we got to the top of the stairs he shoved me backwards and down I tumbled. I heard Nancy scream again as I tumbled backwards down the stairs. I felt bones breaking and the intense pain that followed for a few seconds before I blacked out. When I regained consciousness a paramedic was kneeling beside me putting a foam cast on my broken left arm. I had an oxygen mask on my face to help me breathe and my chest, arms, legs and head hurt like hell. They had lifted me onto a stretcher and were just finishing up on me before they were going to transport me to a hospital. I indicated to the paramedic that I was awake and that I wanted to talk. He took the mask off for a little while and started asking me questions. Before I would answer him I said, "Under no circumstances do I want you to take me to Mount S Hospital in LA. I want to go to the O. P. Hospital in Inglewood." My wife had a lot of connections at Mount S and I didn't want her to have any influence over my treatment. "Also," I said, "I do not want my wife to be allowed to be with me or see me or be in my room, no matter what happens to me." At that moment I heard her gasp, "Oh John no, please don't do that, I want to be with you and take care of you." I literally yelled, "No way, I don't want to see her face, you hear me?" Only, it didn't come out as a yell, but more like a gurgle. And man, did that hurt. I knew I had some broken ribs at that moment and other serious problems. The paramedic nodded his understanding to me and they transported me to O. P. Hospital. Later, after they had finished working me over I spoke with the doctor. I was in Intensive Care in critical condition. I had a concussion, a broken left arm, four broken ribs and a collapsed lung. I was on oxygen and they had a tube in my side to help re-inflate my lung. I guess I was in pretty pathetic shape. But, I was lucky I hadn't broken my neck or back. Nancy tried to see me numerous times but the hospital staff honored my request to keep her away from me. She called me on the phone and I wouldn't take the calls. She sent messages but I tore them up without reading any of them. Friends would stop by to see how I was doing and always said that Nancy wanted to see me, to talk to me. I refused. All in all I was in the hospital for three weeks. Ten days in intensive care and eleven days in a regular room. The police interviewed me a couple of times about what happened and wanted me to press charges against Roger but I refused. During that time I had a lot of time to think about my life and where I had been and where I would be going from here. I was born with a temper. That is a simple statement, but the depths of information that conveys is not so simple. My mother and father knew I had a temper and would do just about anything to keep me from getting upset. Oh, there would be times when something would go wrong and I would go off, but not too often. When it happened, you didn't want to be around me because I would go way out there over the edge. That is what happened when I walked into my bedroom. I was going to be out over the edge but unfortunately Roger was a better specimen than I was and temper or not he got the best of me. But, the rage was there. Getting back to my earlier years, around the time I was eleven years old I was working on the gears of my bicycle to get it to work better. I had a problem with the gears sticking and it made it more difficult to shift while I was riding and I was getting pissed. Finally I had had it and I picked up my bike and threw it as far as I could throw it. The front fork snapped off and both tires went flat. I had also bent the wheels so it wobbled when you moved it. It was a total mess. I looked at the bike and just screamed, "I don't give a fuck if I never ride this piece of shit again." Then I stormed in the house and told my mom that they would need to buy me a new bike because mine was broken. To her credit she said, "John, I saw what happened and this time you are going to have to live with the consequences of your temper. We do not have the money to buy you a new bicycle right now so you will either have to fix this one or live without a bike for a while." I did throw a fit, but I got over it very fast. At that moment I realized that my temper would do nothing but get me into trouble if I let it get the best of me. At that moment I knew I had to change the way I lived my life or endure some pretty awful consequences. Oh, I knew I still had the temper, but I vowed to control it so I wouldn't pay the price I was now paying. Well, my dad helped me fix up the bike so it turned out pretty good, but the lesson was learned and I rarely went out over the edge again. My parents noticed the change in the way I acted too and I am sure they were very thankful for that. They no longer had to walk on pins and needles around me. How did I control my temper in the years that ensued? I plotted my revenge. If someone had wronged me I would think for hours on end how I would get even with them. How I would make them pay for what they had done. With the plotting my temper would cool and I never actually got to the point of exacting my revenge. The bomb was diffused and life moved on. I knew that was not going to happen this time. While I lay in the hospital I started plotting my revenge. I would fix Roger good and I would fix Nancy too. I would make them pay. It didn't take me long to determine what I was going to do. Now, all I had to do was put the people in place to help me and get out of the hospital so I could make it happen. I called Jim Burton, the manager of the Rolling Hills Estates health club that we owned. He came up to the hospital to see me and I asked him to poke around and find out everything he could about Roger on the QT. When I asked him to do that he got a very funny look on his face. "John, I already know some things about Roger, but I will look into his activities further," he said. "What is it you know Jim?" I asked. "Well, his name never has come out, but I am certain he is the reason for several marriage breakups among members of our club," he shared. "Well Jim, he is the reason I am here and he is the reason my marriage is in a shambles too," I groaned. "I understand John," he replied, "And I will do everything I can to get you specifics on him." "Thanks Jim, and until I tell you, just keep all of this under your hat, ok?" I asked. "Sure," he said, "Get better quick boss." When Jim got back to me he told me that rumor had it that Nancy and Roger had been having an affair for the last two months. He was her personal trainer and those around the club had heard him coming on to her a number of times and she never told him to stop. All of the ladies liked Roger because he was a first class hunk, and most of them were speculating that he and Nancy were getting it on. Jim told me that Roger fucked Sue Johnson, Mary Jo Lewis, Jane Baldwin, Sally Doral and others. Three of the marriages were ruined and ended in divorce. One lady had a nervous breakdown because of him and numerous marriages were in trouble. I told him to lay low on that information until I told him when to move. Then Jim was going to fire Roger for sexual harassment of members. It would be quick and easy with no repercussions to the club. When I got out of the hospital I went home and saw my wife. She begged me, "Please John, can't we talk about this?" I told her, "I am not going to discuss this with you at this time Nancy. I am going to move out for a while, but eventually I will be back." I packed some bags and got ready to leave. "Nancy," I said, "I am going to move into the condo. Please do not come there and do not call me there." After I moved into our downtown condo I made all the necessary contacts to execute my plan and waited until my body was healed. Nancy did not listen to me and called me every day while I was there. Eventually I started to take the calls but always just told her that she needs to wait for me to work through the problem that she had created. I refused to meet her or discuss what had happened and certainly not what I was going to do. Then it was time to execute my revenge. I told Jim to have Roger stay late at the club on that Friday night. He was to meet a new client that needed a personal trainer. It was a natural way to get him there alone. At 9:30 p.m. I walked in with five masked men. Three of the men were husbands of women that Roger had fucked and two were body builders from our Thousand Oaks Club. We brought them along just to be sure that we would have no problems with Roger. Roger tried to run out but we all cornered him. They restrained him and we took him by van to a small rundown motel in a seedier part of town. The Art of Revenge You must know that the three husbands did exact some of their own revenge on Roger before they left. Each man in turn beat on him a while as they said, "This is for what you did to my wife and me." No serious damage was done, but he won't be forgetting that beating any time soon. The body builders hog tied him for me and they also left. He was groaning a bit but basically was not hurt. With him hog tied, even in my condition I was able to handle him by myself quite easily and I let him know that he was mine for quite a few hours. It was time for "The Art of Revenge." I had arranged for a local Asian tattoo artist to arrive about that time and a few minutes later there was a knock on the door. He came in with all of his tools and started to look Roger over. "Yes sir," he smirked, "This is going to be one fine subject for me to work on boss." I held him in place and over the next several hours the tattoo artist tattooed the following on Roger: Forehead: "I AM A WIFE FUCKING ASSHOLE" Left Arm: I fucked Sue Johnson and ruined her marriage. Right Arm: I fucked Mary Jo Lewis and destroyed her marriage. Left Pectoral: I fucked Jane Baldwin and her husband left her. Right Pectoral: I fucked Sally Doral then dumped her, she had a breakdown. Back: I have fucked a lot of married women and have ruined their lives. Abs: I fucked Nancy Carlson and her husband did this to me. Each tattoo was embellished with little symbols: an asshole, a dripping pussy, a dagger in a heart and so on. It was truly a work of vengeful art. The process of all those tattoos was very painful for Roger. He was groaning almost the entire time. I didn't care. When we got through with him I knew he wouldn't be so proud to show off his buff body anymore. We left him hog tied in the room and left the motel. It was around 10:00 a.m. and we were long gone from the motel when I called the motel manager and said, "I left a hog tied asshole in Room 17 and you need to go free him." Then I just hung up. Now I needed to attend to Nancy. I went home and walked into the family room where she was sitting. I held out my arms to her and she rushed into them. Only I wasn't looking to give her a hug, instead I restrained her and took her up to the bedroom and tied her to the bed. The Asian tattoo artist had followed me home and I went out to have him come in. Over the next several hours he tattooed the following on her: Forehead: "CHEATING SLUT WIFE" Left Breast: "I am John Carlson's Slut Wife" Right Breast: "I was Roger's Slut Whore" Right and Left Legs: "I Opened these Legs for an Asshole" Belly just above her pussy: "If you Fuck me, John Carlson will Fuck You" She was in pain from the tattooing also. But again, I didn't care. When we finished with her I untied her and left. When I got back to the condo, LA's finest were waiting for me. They handcuffed me and took me downtown. Roger had filed charges against me. I didn't care. I was charged with kidnapping and assault. Nancy never filed charges. During my trial, Nancy was in the courtroom every single day. All of the tattoos on Roger indicated he was a slime ball, but the evidence of what I had done was overwhelming. They showed pictures of each and every tattoo and it was really quite a show. The prosecutor asked me about each tattoo, if I had done that one to Roger and I always answered truthfully that I had. When my attorney revisited each photo he asked me why I had done that tattoo and I gave him the entire story behind each one. I testified about each and every marriage that was ruined. While I testified I kept my eyes on Nancy. I could see the pain she was in with each new revelation. Everyone in court heard what a slime Roger was and that made me happy. When the guilty verdict came in Nancy sat in the courtroom and cried her eyes out. The judge asked me, "Is there was anything you want to say before sentencing?" I simply said, "All I have to say is that if my wife Nancy wants to stay married to me she needs to serve her sentence while I serve mine and be here for me when I get out. Her sentence is to live with the marks of her betrayal until I get home." I added, "If she is unwilling to do that then she should just divorce me." I was sentenced to five years in prison to be served at North Kern State Prison. Nancy cried out again. The judge told me that the nature of my crimes was pretty disturbing but the circumstances under which I had committed them did weigh on his decision in the sentencing procedure. When I got to prison I was worried about how things would go there. You know how you hear about the sexual abuses that take place between prisoners and that had me a bit anxious. Word of what I had done must have gotten around though because lots of guys would slap me on the back and say "way to go." No one messed with me the whole time I was there. A couple of times I heard whispers about what I had done and how one would be crazy to mess with a guy who would do what I did. I wasn't proud of it. It had been the result of my temper blowing, plotting revenge and, because I never got it under control, the executing of my revenge. But, they didn't mess with me at all and for that I was thankful. I know that there are many in your ranks who think I must have been one sick man to do what I did. I know you are right in a way but that action was brought about by the devastation of my heart and mind from what I had discovered. I had changed my life for the better, but my anguish over her cheating on me had moved me out over that edge. One day I received a long letter from Nancy. I really didn't want to read it, but frankly the isolation of being in prison had really gotten to me. Personal contact of any kind was something I really missed. I set her letter aside for a while but finally I couldn't take it anymore and I read it. Dear John: I have tried to visit you in prison but they keep telling me that you do not want to see me so I am writing this letter to you. I hope you will read it. I am so very sorry for what I have done to you. When you came into our bedroom and found Roger and I having sex I could see the rage in your face and hear the rage in your scream. I was shocked into the reality of what I had done. I knew that moment that I had hurt you beyond repair. I knew that I had destroyed our wonderful marriage. I had never seen you like that and it scared me so much. I am so sorry. I knew that you had lost control and I had no idea what you might do. I knew I had made a horrible mistake. I shouldn't have had the affair with Roger. I will tell you how it started and all the details, but I want you to know that I was going to end it that night. I obviously never got the chance, you ended it for me. I am so sorry you got hurt John. I never thought you would find out. I thought I would have this one fling and it would be over. Oh John, I just want to die. How could I do this to you? I love you so much and now I have gone and destroyed you. I suppose it doesn't matter much now, but I want to tell you all about what happened. Roger is the only person that I ever cheated on you with. There were none before him and will be no others now either. Roger had been working with me at the club and all of the women were drooling over him and I thought he was attractive too. I honestly didn't know he had caused problems in so many marriages. I know it isn't an excuse, but if I had known I would not have given in to his advances, I would have stayed away from him. He was so attentive to me. He never came across as an asshole. Just complimented me on my workouts, on how attractive I was, how well toned my body was, you know all the things a woman wants to hear. I let my ego overrule my common sense. He created excitement in me John that is all I can say. I know I love you more than anything in this world, but there was less excitement in our lovemaking and in our life than there used to be. It isn't your fault and it isn't my fault. It is just something that happens to married couples. You become familiar with one another and the excitement cannot remain as intense as it had been. Anyway, he excited me and I liked it. Two months before you caught us he knew you were out of town and asked me if he could take me to dinner. I enjoyed his company and his flattery and I didn't see any harm in going to dinner with him so I agreed. It was a stupid mistake. As you already know, one thing led to another and we ended up in our bed having sex. He left that night at around 2:00 a.m. In the morning I felt so guilty that I cried almost the entire day. I also knew that I liked the excitement he brought out in me. That afternoon Roger called me and asked if he could come over. I told him yes. I wanted that excitement again. That night he spent the night and left in the morning before you got home. We didn't get together again for almost a month and we never got together while you were in town. When you left for Tokyo, Roger knew somehow and called me. We did the exact same thing this time as we had the first time. We went to dinner and he came over to the house and we had sex until 2:00 a.m. when he left. I felt guilty again the next morning and knew I needed to stop seeing him before I destroyed our marriage. On Friday afternoon he came over again and was going to spend the night and I was going to break it off in the morning. It was going to be over. John, I can't lie, I liked what he did to me. You heard me tell him that he fucked me better than you and it is true. I am so sorry you had to hear me tell him that and I know that it hurt you but it is true. He did things to me that you and I had never tried and I liked them. I was going to figure out a way that you and I would do those things together after I broke it off with him, to put some more excitement into our lovemaking and lives, to improve our lovemaking, but now I know we won't get that chance. I cannot believe what a fool I have been. I am so so sorry. John, you have hurt me badly with your revenge. The tattoos were extremely painful and the humiliation I feel every day is overwhelming. I damaged our marriage with my actions, but it was never my intent to hurt you. I know what happened that night to bring the vengeance out, but I sure don't understand it. I also don't know how you could hurt me like you did, but I know that I am responsible for that change in you and I will never forgive myself for that. I don't know if there is a chance for our marriage to survive after what I have done to you and what you have done to me, but I want to give us the chance to find out. I will serve my punishment. I will wear the tattoos you put on me. I will face the shame, humiliation and looks of disgust and disrespect that I get every day. I do deserve them all and I will endure them as my sentence as you asked in the courtroom. John, I will be here when you get out of prison. Please come home to me and give our marriage a chance. I love you, Nancy I was paroled after two years of good behavior. I was released after a psychiatric evaluation. The evaluation determined that the incident that triggered my actions was an isolated event and that in general I was not a threat to society as a whole. I was to be on probation for five years and would undergo psychiatric therapy during that time. While I was in prison, Roger had sued me in civil court for the disfigurement of his body. My lawyers settled the case for a sizeable amount of money. I really didn't care about the money, but I still did take some consolation in the fact that he would no longer be the ladies man that he had been. I was happy that women would reject him in the future. I had not divorced Nancy and she had not divorced me. When I got home she was there with all of the tattoos looking exactly as they had when I had left. She said "I hate you for what you did to me. These two years have been a living hell for me, but I know that I still love you. Do you still love me and want me?" I said, "I hate you for what you did to me and our marriage but I will allow you to stay. It will have to be on my terms. I love you, but we will have to see if that is enough and if we are able to make this marriage work." She agreed. We stayed together. Her life wasn't miserable, but everywhere we went people saw her tattoos and knew she was a slut. I could see the humiliation on her face every time we met someone who had not seen her before. I treated her well, never denying her anything except the outward demonstration of my love. I don't really know why Nancy stayed with me but she did. Maybe she saw that I really did love her. After one more year my anger and vengefulness were gone. During that year we gradually became more sexually intimate. Nancy demonstrated to me that she really did love me and I realized that I really did love her too. We had gone through some counseling and had worked through most of the problems we had. It was a long haul but we loved each other and our marriage was important to us both. I hired the best plastic surgeon available to remove the tattoos. Well, I should say all but one. She insisted that "IF YOU FUCK ME, JOHN CARLSON WILL FUCK YOU" remain. I didn't argue. Roger didn't fare so well. He was of course fired from his job for sexual harassment of patrons. He had the money from the settlement, but I heard he burned through that in a hurry because he couldn't get a job anywhere else. He had all of his tattoos removed, but his surgeon wasn't as good as the one I hired for Nancy and there was significant scarring. Very few women are interested in sexual interludes with a man who is severely scarred on his face, chest, arms and back. So, his life is kind of miserable. I don't care. As a result of my therapy I now have mini explosions once in a while when I am angry, nothing that causes anyone alarm. I no longer plot my revenge and I feel the anger within me subsiding very quickly. No rage is allowed to build up in me. I believe with proper counseling years ago the tattoos would not have happened but I do not know how I would have reacted to Nancy cheating on me. Maybe I would have left her. Maybe I would have just forgiven her. I do not know. We will never know. Will Nancy and I ever regain what we had before her affair with Roger? Probably not. Will I ever forget that she betrayed me? Probably not. Will she forget the depths of my revenge upon her and what it cost her? Probably not. Will we live happily ever after? Probably not. But, we will live. And, we will enjoy what we can with each other. And, we will never give up trying to regain what we once had. The End Author's Note: There have been no more broken bicycles and I never lose my temper. All my revenge is in my mind, but now I also have the outlet of writing stories of revenge. Please feel free to comment on this story with suggestions and your likes and dislikes, but if you vote, do it based upon the quality of the story not whether or not you agree with the outcome. I believe each author has the right to end his or her story as they see fit. Also, if you feel the need to criticize, sign your name. Nothing is as insulting as criticism from someone who does not have the balls to sign their name. CB