35 comments/ 50280 views/ 18 favorites A Wife in Sheep's Clothing By: man_as_dog The front door to the home of Paul and Lynn Hew was almost never used. Mostly, they came and went through either the side door into the garage or the sliding glass doors onto the patio. To the right of the entry way was the formal living room, which was kept pristine and was the least used room in the house. At the end of the entry on the left lay the hallway that connected to three bedrooms, including a large master suite, and a guest bathroom. The formal living room was dark, with its massive curtains closed. There was a white camel-backed couch against the back wall and large wing-back chairs on either side, all facing a walnut coffee table. None of this was of any significance before that day. But late that morning, Paul was sitting in the wing-back chair that faced away from the archway between the entry and living room. He had sat there many times when his wife was gone, contemplating his life and running through scenarios, trying to calculate his potential losses if he dared to end his sorry marriage. The friends they had in common would decide for themselves if they wanted to remain his or hers. This house would be gone. He would probably be strapped for alimony payments for years. Half of his net worth would disappear in a flash, along with legal expenses. In the end, he would still have to deal with Lynn, and she was a very vindictive bitch. In the midst of his musings, he heard the side door open and knew that she was home from grocery shopping. He should have gotten up then and pretended that he'd been in their bedroom. If she caught him in the living room, there would be another argument. Arguments in this household were a dime a dozen, and they were all begun by Lynn and consisted of unwarranted criticism of Paul for minor infractions, for some made up reason, or for nothing at all. He knew that she did it to keep him off balance and just for the hell of it. Lynn could carry on a running argument for weeks over the least little thing, and in the end, Paul always found some way to placate her enough to end it. Life was just not worth living if there was constant friction, in his opinion. Better to settle a fight as soon as possible. The problem was that it was generally a short time until she started the next one. This situation was hopeless after their 10 years of marriage, and he could see no way out of it short of suicide, murder, or divorce. Still, he persisted in trying to make things better, mostly to preserve his own sanity these days rather than to make things nicer for his wife. Paul heard the freezer door shut, and he knew she'd put away the frozen food. She would be sending him out to get the rest of the groceries in a couple of minutes. She did that sort of thing all the time. She ordered, and he was expected not only to obey but to tolerate her criticism while he performed the action. 'No, I want the cereal in the other cabinet this time,' she might say. Wanting to avoid her for as long as possible, he remained still. He waited for her to call his name, or worse, whistle for him. That whistle was almost too much for him to take these days. Just like a dog, he thought. Instead of her voice, he heard light footsteps as she approached the entry way. If he had looked, he would have seen her stopping at the entry tiled floor and peering down the hallway, making sure she was alone. He waited quietly. Lynn was thinking, "I should have called him in the car before I got home. It's hard to drive and talk, though. Oh, well, I'm safe right here. Paul's probably out back working on the gazebo like a good little husband." In a few seconds, he heard the chirp of her cell phone as she dialed a number. She was now in the entry, just five feet away from the back of the chair where he sat. "Hi, Daddy. Can you talk now?" Daddy? Why is she calling him now? "We're good for Thursday afternoon. I'll call him at work after 1 o'clock. He should be back from lunch by then. If he's at his desk, we'll be fine for a few hours. I'll open the back gate like always and see you about 2." She was silent while the other party replied. "Sure, Daddy," she cooed. "You can put that thing anywhere you like. You know I looooove your big ol' cock! I've gotta go and find out where my boy is now. See ya Thursday!" He heard the flip phone snap shut and her footsteps trailing off across the carpet to the sliding glass door. She whistled and called toward the gazebo project he had been working on in the back yard. She apparently hadn't heard his labored breathing or the crashing sound of the blood pumping in his heart and head. This was not Paul's first time in a tense situation, and he had automatic responses developed from his experiences in the army and elsewhere. First thing, don't panic. Unless you are discovered and actively under attack, use your knowledge to your own advantage and choose your own time to engage. Make your face blank. Control your breathing. Maintain. Be normal. Paul stood and walked into the den. "I'm here. I was in the bathroom. I've gotta run to the hardware store and get parts for the gazebo," he said as he crossed the den toward the kitchen and the side door, trying not to look at her. He was amazed that he had been able to get those words out of his mouth. He was amazed also that he didn't have his hands around her throat at this moment. She turned to look as he strode by her and caught the redness in his face. "You need to wear a hat out there. You look like you're really getting sunburned. I don't want to look at your skin peeling off in a couple of days. By the way, there are groceries to bring in. Do that before you go anywhere, and don't be gone all day." She dropped her phone into her purse, which was on the kitchen counter, and headed out the back door to inspect Paul's work on the gazebo. There would be criticisms about it waiting for him when he returned. That was Lynn all over. Almost everything she said to him involved a set of marching orders and an implied or explicit criticism. As she stepped into the back yard, Paul retrieved her phone from the purse and looked up the last number she'd dialed. He memorized it quickly and placed her phone back in her purse. Then Paul brought in the groceries, put them away, and drove off in his small pickup truck. But he didn't head for the hardware store. He stopped at a local park a couple of blocks away. For the first 15 minutes, he went over and over the short conversation he'd just overheard. He wanted to rehearse it in his brain so that every word was memorized. To be sure, he made notes. There was no doubt at all what it meant. No room for mistake. His wife was having an affair, and she was doing it in his house. Probably in his bed while he was at work. He was furious knowing that he was subsidizing her infidelity, working to support her while she cheated on him. Who was the guy, the one she called 'Daddy'? It wasn't her real father, because the area code was local and her parents lived a thousand miles away in California. In the early days of their marriage, she sometimes called Paul 'Daddy' when they were making love. She had long since ceased doing that, but he remembered because it had seemed a little odd to him. He had initially thought that maybe she was signaling that she wanted kids, that she wanted him to be a daddy. But she had seemed relieved when, a couple of years into the marriage, they had decided not to have kids. She was definitely a daddy's girl, though. Then he began to think of practical matters to determine what his best course of action was. She was going to let her lover in the back gate on Thursday. That meant he would be walking down the alley. He could ambush him there, but what would he do with his cheating wife? If her lover was walking, his car had to be somewhere nearby. It hit him. Her lover would probably leave his car right here at the park. Who was this guy, and how could he find that out? The obvious thing would be to call the number he got off her cell phone. He could have someone else call it, as if by mistake, and try to get him to say who he was. A woman would be most likely to get that info. Who did he know that would make the call? Who else might know about this? That answer was simple. Lynn's best friend was Sue, and if Sue didn't know about it, he didn't think anyone else would either. Maybe Lynn's sister would know, but that was doubtful. Ever since she'd been ostracized by the rest of the family for her messy divorce, she and Lynn had not been close. Could he ask Sue? He had known her as long as Lynn had, and Sue had always been his friend, too. But women could be more loyal to each other than to their spouses sometimes. Sue was married to Nick, who was 15 years her senior, and the pair seemed to be the most loving couple in the world. He figured that Sue would tell Nick almost anything. Would she tell him about Lynn, though? He counted Nick as a friend. They weren't close friends, but Nick was an upstanding guy, and he would have thought Nick would have told him if he'd known about something like this. Paul decided to try Nick. That meant a drive to the golf course, where Nick, who was semi-retired, donated time on Saturdays as a sort of good will ambassador for the course, in exchange for a free round of golf during the week when the course was not full. On the way over, he planned his approach very carefully. He couldn't just blurt it out. What if the news got back to Sue and then to Lynn? He had to be cagey. "Nick, I have a hypothetical question for you." Paul was riding in a golf cart with him as he went to check on conditions at the seventh hole. "If you were to have a confidential conversation with someone, would you feel obliged to keep it confidential, or would you share it with Sue?" Nick gave him an odd glance and drove on several yards. "Are you asking me to keep a secret from Sue?" "I guess I'm asking if you and Sue always share what you hear from other people, even if you hear it in confidence. It's just a hypothetical." Nick pulled over onto the grass. He turned to look directly at Paul, almost expectantly. "Do you have a specific question for me? If you do, ask away," he said, with the same strange and intense look on his face. "If I do ask a question, can you keep this conversation confidential?" "Here's what I'll promise. I will never mention it unsolicited. But if Sue asks me, I won't lie to her. That's how I operate, Paul. I can keep a secret, but I won't lie to my wife, or to a friend." Nick obviously knew something, and Paul felt that he wanted to tell him. He composed himself and put the question. "Nick, do you know anything about an affair my wife may be having?" "May be having? Technically, no." "Let me rephrase. Do you know anything about an affair Lynn is having or has had in the past?" It came pouring out of Nick, like a dam bursting. "It was last New Year's, at the Holden's party. They were just about to do the fireworks display, and everybody was outside. Sue had gotten ill from the champagne. You know she hardly ever drinks. She went upstairs to the bathroom on the landing. She heard someone trying the door knob while she was getting sick in the toilet. When she washed up and left the bathroom, she heard noises coming from down the hall, where it turns toward some bedrooms. She was afraid that someone else might be ill, and she walked down there and looked. Lynn was up against the wall at the end of the hallway, and some big dude was...well, there's no good way to say it. He had her against the wall with her legs wrapped around his waist. Lynn saw Sue standing there, and she smiled and did a little wave-off, like, 'Get the hell out of here'. "On the way home, she told me about it. Sue and Lynn are old friends, as you know, and she wanted to talk to Lynn before we decided to do anything. I said we should tell you right away. In the end, she had a talk with your wife, who told her that it had been a one-time thing, due to alcohol and a spat with you, as well as very aggressive moves from the guy. His name is Buddy White. Sue knows about him. He has a real reputation as a bully. He married money. His wife is a lawyer. "So, Sue asked me to keep it quiet, since we didn't want to destroy your marriage over a single incident. But I told her, if you ever asked me about it directly, I wouldn't lie to you. It's been burning a hole in my heart these past five months. I'm so glad it's out, but I'm so sorry for you, man." "Lynn lied to Sue. It's not over. She's been carrying on with this guy, or maybe it's some other guy by now. I heard her talking to him on the phone an hour ago." "God, man, if I'd known I would've come to you. I'm so sorry, Paul. Let's go back to my place and see what Sue has to say. Maybe she knows something else." They left the golf course in their own vehicles and made their way to Sue and Nick's. He broke the news to his wife and she sat down, crying. She had so hoped things would work out for Paul and Lynn. She would do anything to help if she could. When she heard that the affair was continuing, her demeanor changed. Sue felt a bit of Lynn's betrayal herself now. She had been assured that the affair was finished, and had based her action (or lack thereof) on that lie. "Sue, there's one thing you might do for me. I checked Lynn's phone, and I have the number she called. Would you call him, pretend it's a wrong number, and try to get his name? I wanna make sure who she's seeing now." Sue worked at home as an editor. She had a PhD in English Lit, and she had a background in theatre. Using her best acting technique and social engineering skills, she planned the call. She would use her flawless English accent, which never failed to impress. She dialed the number with the phone set on speaker. "Hi, this is Buddy White." Sue blinked. "Sorry, wrong number." "Well, that was certainly not satisfying," she said, her whole scenario going out the window. But the information was clear. Lynn had not broken off the affair with White. One more bit of data established. They talked for awhile about what to do next. Paul was adamant that he was going to catch the pair in the act, and it was going to be at their next encounter on Thursday. But he wanted more ammunition. He wanted to be prepared with as many facts as he could when he confronted his wife. That way, he could catch her not only 'in flagrante delicto', but in all of her lies that she would undoubtedly try to cover things up with. "I can't really hire a detective to follow her around. I wouldn't know who to call, and she might not even see or talk to White before Thursday. Also, I expect a lot of expenses with the divorce and all. I need a quick way to get the goods on her." They were quiet, thinking, for a minute or more. "What if there was a mole?" Sue asked. "What? What mole?" "What if some friend of hers, say, her best friend, were to milk the story out of her?" "You would do that?" "Never underestimate a pissed-off woman, guys. I've had it with the bitch and how she's treated us all. I think I can come up with a story that will make her give it up to me." For the next hour, they planned. Sue would call Lynn, saying she needed help desperately. They would arrange to meet Sunday morning for coffee. Nick would modify an old purse of Sue's to hold a video camera, and Sue would put it on the table to record every word and facial expression. By noon on Sunday, they should know much more. ----- "Lynn, I need to talk to you as soon as possible. Can you meet me for coffee in the morning? I'm in a situation, and you're the only one I know who has the experience to help me. And I trust you." "What's up, Sue? Are you sick? Is Nick okay?" "No, it's not that. Lynn, remember the party last New Year's? I have situation kind of like that..." "Ahhh. I get it. I may be able to help you with that. How about 10 o'clock at that new coffee place at the mall? Pick us a nice quiet spot to talk. I'll see you there." Secretly, Lynn was smiling. It's about time her old friend came out of her shell. She has been with that old bugger of a husband for years, and she could do a lot better. She was still cute. It would be hot to have someone to share stories with, like she used to do with her sister. She would love to help her friend shed her outdated ideas. In time, she could teach Sue everything her sister and, more importantly, her daddy had taught her about life. Sue was at the coffee shop early and picked a table outside under an awning. She carefully set her purse up on the table and tried out the camera inside. She moved two chairs away from the table so that there was only one place for Lynn to sit. She made sure the angle was right and did some audio testing. The air was calm, so there shouldn't be any wind noise. She set it up so that she only had to reach in and click one button to begin recording. The 16 Gb card could hold lots of video. Nick had cleverly arranged the camera in the purse with Velcro straps to hold it firmly in place. He disguised the holes for the lens and mic so they appeared to be part of the pattern on the black purse. She was ready when Lynn appeared. "Lynn, can you get us some coffee and I'll hold our place. This is the most private spot." "Be right back." Sue clicked the 'On' button when Lynn emerged from the shop with the drinks, quickly checking to make sure she was recording. They got the preliminaries out of the way quickly, and Sue launched her saga. "Lynn, there's this guy, and he wants me. I don't know what to do. He's so cute, and it's been so long since Nick made love to me. Nick trusts me completely. I've never cheated on him, but I'm so tempted now. I'm asking you because I want to find out what you feel like, after the New Year's party... Am I gonna regret this if I do it?" "Go for it, girl! Frankly, I can't understand why you haven't done this before. Nick's nice and all, but, honey, he's way over the hill. You're still young and cute. I've always admired how you look, but I've never understood why you waste your time with Nick." "Wow, no remorse then? You sound like you really have it together on this. Was that party really just a one-time thing?" "Honey, I won't lie to you now. I had to tell you that back then, or you might have let the cat out of the bag. But now that you're in a similar situation, we can share all this stuff. In fact, we'll be having some real hot talks." "Lynn, tell me all about it. I'm so excited by this, now that I'm thinking about doing it myself. Where did it all start with you and Buddy? Are you two still...doing it?" "You should see the look in your eyes. If you're not wet right now, I'll bet you will be in a few minutes. Okay, here's the story with Buddy. We actually met two months before that, at the Holden's Halloween party. I was wearing that leopard outfit, remember? Buddy kept eyeing me for the first hour or so, and I eyed him right back. "When his wife was helping with the trick-or-treaters at the front door, and Paul was out back by the fire, Buddy came up beside me and whispered to meet him on the landing in five minutes. I just nodded my head at him. You know how big and crowded that party was, and the house is huge. It was easy to go back along the dark hallway and climb up to the landing. Nobody was around, since all the action was downstairs. "When I got up to the landing, Buddy kissed me hard and then led me into the bathroom and locked the door. I had my leotard off in two seconds, and he fucked me sitting on his lap on the commode. Sue, he is huge, and he takes what he wants. That's what I like about him. No bullshit. No 'I love you'. None of that romantic crap. He just fucked the shit out of me, and I came like hell. We did it probably 20 times between then and New Year's. We were trying for a repeat of Halloween that night, but you were in the bathroom, so we had to go down the hallway. I would have fucked him in one of those bedrooms, but the Holdens had the doors locked." A Wife in Sheep's Clothing "So, it didn't end there, did it? You're still...fucking him?" "Damned right, honey. He blows me away. Matter of fact, I'll be fucking him next week, in my own bed." "Wow. That is wild! But what about Paul? Don't you feel a little bad for him?" "Sue, Paul is a husband. You can't treat a husband like you do a lover. They serve totally different purposes. Paul is there to do what I want him to. Buddy is there for good sex. "Now, I'm not saying I don't ever enjoy sex with Paul. Hell, after a good session with Buddy, I like to have 'cool down' sex with Paul. You know, when Buddy has made me a little sore from fucking, I get Paul interested that night and he'll eat me for as long as I want him to. Then he'll do an easy screw and get me off. Of course, I'll be thinking about the royal fucking I got earlier, but Paul never knows that. "Sue, here's what I think about Paul. He was a good husband choice because I knew he was always going to be an okay provider. He didn't insist on having kids, which is nice. He takes orders well. He trusts me, and I can control him like a TV remote. All I have to do is act like I'm jealous or throw him off balance with an argument once in awhile. You know, I will sniff him when he comes home sometimes, like I'm looking for perfume on him. I do it to throw him off the real scent and make him think I'll never cheat. When there's a movie on and the husband has cheated, I make a point of going on and on about how terrible I think that is and how I would never tolerate him cheating. "Having Paul around is like having a little gay friend. He is so docile. I can treat him any way I want, and he just keeps coming back for more. He's pussy whipped, and that's how I like it. He gets some free pussy once in awhile, and I get all the freedom I can stand. I can come and go as I please, but he has to check out his every move with me first. I always know where he is, so I never have to worry about him catching me with a lover." "So, you've had other lovers?" "Suzy, I don't even know if I can count them all. The first one was that first year we were married. He was barely legal. He was staring at me in the super market, and I just picked him up. He never even knew my real name. I bounced around hotel rooms with him for six months, until he got too clingy. Gotta watch that with young guys. "I did a bunch of one-offs after that. Once, I had a salesman friend who liked kinky stuff. That was a good one because he only came to town a few times a year. I've kept Buddy busy for longer than almost any of them. Like I said, he's a hound with a cunt-splitting cock, and he's married to a woman who is apparently clueless. She works and he plays around. He can come see me almost any time, and I'm in control of that. "So tell me about your new conquest. Where did you meet him?" Sue ran through her prepared story about her fictional paramour, Rod. The details are not important, but her performance was impeccable. She had Lynn believing every word, and encouraging her to take full advantage. "Lynn, I just can't get over how in control you are. I don't know if I can treat Nick the way you do Paul." "Honey, in the animal kingdom, you have your dominant individuals, and then there's the rest of the pack. They take orders, you give them. The drones exist to service the queen bee. I'm the alpha dog with Paul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. The alpha gets her choice of mates, and so I take that privilege because it's mine. He could have taken that spot in the pecking order, if he'd had it in him to do so. But he didn't. He sometimes puts up a fight, but he could never out-last me. He hates to fight, but it doesn't bother me in the least. I have more stamina, and I make sure I always win one way or another. I'm the alpha bitch. "You can be the same easily. I can't see any problem with you running the show. Nick could never replace you at his age. All you have to do is take on the role, and freedom will be yours. Make plans to start fucking Rod, and enjoy every second of it. Nick will still be there, and the worse you treat him, the more he will fit into his natural submissive role. You could probably fuck Rod right in front of Nick and he'd just take it. It's just the way things work in the real world. You've always been in control. You just haven't taken advantage of it yet." "One more thing, though. What about STDs? Aren't you worried you'll catch something? Do you use condoms?" "Most of the time, I make the guy put a rubber on. With Buddy, it's different, because he's so aggressive. It would be like trying to get one on a stallion. But he's clean. Once I got a little scared because it hurt to pee afterwards, but the doc told me my pussy was just irritated from rough sex. She said, 'Tell your husband to be more careful.' I laughed my ass off at that one. "There was one time I actually did get infected. Gonorrhea. It was awful. I had to take an injection and pills for a couple of weeks. After that, I was more careful." "How did you keep that from Paul?" "That was pretty masterful of me. You know how he likes to play guitar?" "Yeah, and he's pretty good, too." "Whatever. Anyway, he told me he was going to jam with his pals. He was expecting me to tell him no, because I never let him out of the house alone. I just looked at him deadpan and said, 'If you really feel that's what you should be doing...' I didn't tell him he could or he couldn't. I gave him the choice, and he went to the jam. When he came back, wham! I nailed him with a running argument for two weeks while I took the antibiotics. If he hadn't gone, I could have turned that into an argument, too. And I never have to say 'no' to sex with him, because he won't initiate sex if we're fighting. He can't just fuck me like a normal guy would. We have to be all lovey-dovey or he doesn't initiate." At that point, the women had been talking for a long time, and Sue was antsy to get the recording back to Nick and Paul, so she thanked Lynn profusely and left for home. ----- The conspirators sat there appalled as the video rolled. Sue and Nick could hardly recognize Lynn, because she was never so hard on Paul when there were other people around. Paul was shocked, but not nearly as much as the couple. He had come to know that Lynn was capable of almost anything. "The one thing we haven't talked about is Anita White. Sue, do you know anything about her? She must know the bastard cheats on her. I feel obligated to let her know that he's fucking Lynn, just in case she doesn't know. But if she does, she might be okay with it and she might warn him off and ruin my sting." "I've only talked to her at a couple of parties. She puts on a good face, but she seems deeply unhappy some way. With her husband's reputation as a bully, I'm wondering if she is totally cowed by him. It would be a big risk to let her in on what you're planning to do. She really might blow the whole thing, and you'd have nothing but this video. If she cooperated, on the other hand, she might be able to help put the bastard out of commission. Maybe I could help with her, too. If she gets a call from you, then she knows you have them in your sights. I could just talk to her in a general way about his cheating and feel her out to see if she would likely be on your side or his." "You did a great job with the video, so I trust you to handle Anita White. The sooner the better on that, because it will affect my plans. "All right, folks. I thank you for your help. When I hear back about Mrs. White, you two are out of it. I won't involve you in what's coming, and it's best you don't know any more details." "Paul, you won't do anything stupid, will you?" asked Sue. "You mean, like the stupid stuff I've been doing for the past ten years?" "No, I mean something violent." Paul didn't answer her directly. "I'm going to handle this the only way I know how. Please, I'm asking you all to keep this strictly confidential. If she calls you, just don't answer. That way, whatever happens will be out of your hands. I take total responsibility." ----- Later that evening, Sue took a chance and phoned Anita White. "Anita, this is Sue Carter. We've talked at the Holden's parties a few times." "Hi, Sue. I remember you. What do you need?" "Anita, can you talk freely right now? Is your husband or anyone else around? I need to keep this conversation quiet." "Buddy's out right now, and I'm sitting here reading. What can I do for you? Is it some legal matter?" "Well, it could be, I guess. Anita, there's no good way to broach this subject, so I'll just be frank. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Buddy is cheating on you. Not with me, but with someone I know. I'm so sorry, but you have a right to know." There was silence on the other end of the line. Then Sue heard sniffles and sobs. "That bastard. He said that was all over. A year ago, he promised he was through with all that. I took him back based on his promise, and I told him if he did it again, I'd cut him loose." Sue consoled her and moved on a step further. "Anita, what do you want to do about this? I know it's not my place to ask this, but I may be able to help some way, depending on your answer." "Sue, I appreciate your concern. I'll tell you this, he will never again sleep in my bed. I have a cast-iron prenup, and I've threatened to use it. If I divorce him, especially if there is solid evidence of infidelity, he's cut off without a penny. He can't hold a job, and all he's good for is escorting me to events and fucking women on the side. He would be living in the gutter until he finds some susceptible woman to take him in." "Anita, I can get you the evidence you want. But you have to promise me that you will keep cool for a few days and not let on to him that you know something. Are you up for that?" "I promise. I will be cool as ice, and he won't have a clue until I have the evidence in my hands." "Can I send someone to your office tomorrow to bring you some preliminary evidence?" They set up a meeting, and Sue called Paul the next morning at work. He was to meet her in her office at 1PM on Monday. ----- Paul walked into her office with the video camera in his hands. He introduced himself and they shook hands before he sat. "Mrs. White, I'm the husband of the woman your man is...sleeping with. Here she is, in her own words." Paul set the camera on her desk, cued up to the relevant section, and pressed play. The small screen was barely visible, but the audio was excellent. When he saw the tears in her eyes, Paul walked around the desk and put his hand on her shoulder. "I know how you must be feeling. This is new for me, because I just learned about my wife's behavior. But you have known what Buddy is like for a long time, I take it. Anita, I'm planning something, and I'm asking you if you want to be part of it. It's going to happen, no matter what, so if you don't want to participate, that's okay. I wouldn't feel right if I didn't offer, though." "Paul, he has been intimidating me for years. I have taken it over and over. I've been physically afraid of him many times. I'm done with that now. I want to turn the tables. I want him to suffer now. "Paul, what you're planning...does it involve violence?" "It may well get messy. I'm not going to murder anyone, but I expect to have to whip your cheating husband's ass. Is that a problem for you?" "Paul, I'm 5'5" and he's 6'2". I have never been a match for him. No offense, but I'm not sure you can take him in a fair fight." "Won't be a fair fight. I'll take him. Right to the cleaners." She smiled a bit and nodded. "I'm in, then. Just one thing, Paul. Leave a little bit for me to mess up, too." ----- After his meeting with Anita White, Paul was in no mood for work. He was still stinging from the things Lynn had said about him on the video. Unfortunately, he recognized some truth in it, although he viewed things differently. He did hate fighting with Lynn, but he didn't view his conciliatory nature as a weakness. He could understand her perception of him as being pussy whipped. He'd chided himself that way many times. On the other hand, someone had to make an effort in this marriage to make life better, and Lynn certainly didn't. Maybe what hurt the most was her characterization of him as 'her little gay friend'. Gay he was not, and she would see him in all his macho male glory on Thursday. Maybe he should give her a taste of that before Thursday, just to see how she would react. What would she do if faced with a husband who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer? Would that make her want him more? Not that he would ever take her back at this point. The trust was totally gone, and that was the basis of any relationship. But maybe it would give her something to think about on those long nights she would be facing alone. He thought about his sex life with Lynn. Before marriage, he pictured having sex with her whenever he wanted. He would never have to masturbate. In reality, masturbation had been more frequent than sex with Lynn by a factor of probably 10 to 1. Hell, he could have gotten a lot more pussy as a single guy than he did married to her. Why had he been duped into thinking married people had sex all the time? Still, the thought of fucking his wife one more time had some appeal. It would be strictly for his benefit. He didn't care whether she came or not. He didn't care whether she was into it or not. Give her something to remember and give himself some of his pride back. If he were going to do it, it should be that night. If he were as rough with her as he thought he might be, she'd need time to recuperate before meeting her lover on Thursday. He definitely didn't want her to cancel that date. His final decision was made on the spur of the moment Monday night as they sat reading in the den. All evening, she'd been picking at him about one small thing or another. The gazebo project wasn't finished yet. Why not? When was he going to correct the list of problems she'd given him? Just the usual jabs and needles. He couldn't concentrate on his book. He looked at her over his reading glasses. "Can you just shut the fuck up? I'm trying to read." She went into a tirade, trying to bury him in rhetoric. To win by volume of words, as she usually did. She'd make him pay for cursing at her! She screamed for five minutes while he sat there, getting hard thinking about what he was going to do next. Paul closed his book and put it down. He took off his glasses, laid them on the lamp table, and rose out of his recliner. She was still yelling at him. He took two steps toward her chair and stared down at her. She felt vulnerable sitting below him, so she stood, her screaming red face inches from his. Paul grabbed both her arms and forced them behind her back. His legs were together, guarding his nuts from any possible assault. He kissed her hard on the mouth and she turned her head away. Holding her wrists in his left hand, he ripped open her blouse and jerked her bra above her tits, scraping her nipples. Roughly, he pinched her nipples as she struggled. Lynn took her screaming to the next level. She struggled hard against him. He forced her forward over the hassock, still holding her wrists. She was totally unprepared for this kind of behavior, and she raged and cursed as Paul reached under her skirt and ripped her white utilitarian panties off. She turned her volume up to 11. He had his lower leg holding her feet down. He bent down and bit her hard on the ass and her scream turned to a cry of pain. Her wrists were tight in his hand and he slapped her ass hard a few times. Roughly, he fingered her pussy to see if it was wet, and he felt it. He bent down and spat on her cunt, just for good measure. "No need to drag this out," he thought. Paul unbuttoned and unzipped his loose shorts with his free hand. No underwear impeded his erection as he pushed into her hard. She was crying now, barely resisting, as he fucked her hard against the hassock. "I've had enough criticism for one day. Now, I'm having some fucking pussy, so you can just shut your fucking mouth until I finish." It was satisfying to him in a strange way when he jammed his cock in her for the last time and flooded her cunt. He knew this was the end, and he'd done it on his own terms, for his own pleasure, not for hers or theirs. He didn't even notice if she'd cum, and he didn't care. Yeah, she'd remember this fucking. Lynn was still sobbing and limp when he stood, zipped his shorts, and left in his pickup. He came back late that night and slept in his recliner. He didn't even look in on her in bed. ----- On Tuesday and Wednesday, there wasn't much work being done in Paul's office. He spent a lot of time going over scenarios. There were too many variables, and he knew that line about the best laid plans. In the end, he worked out several possible ways it could go, as well as his preferred way. A lot of Thursday afternoon would have to be played by ear. He spent a few hours in the company gym, getting his flexibility and strength honed for Thursday. It was easy to do the workouts as he envisioned what was about to happen. Things were tense at home. They only spoke when necessary. Normally, Lynn would have been on his case hard, but his behavior had been so over the top that she wanted to wait and see if this were just some aberration. She needed to figure out what was wrong and get Paul back under her thumb, where he belonged. After all, he was a husband, and he'd acted like a lover. He had dared to make a play for control, and Lynn couldn't let that situation continue. If she challenged him now, he might do a repeat and she would drop further behind in the game. She started carrying a knife because it made her feel more in control, even though he never made another move on her. Surely, this was just a reaction to some problem at work. It would go back to normal, given time. At least, he did come to bed on Tuesday and Wednesday, although he ignored her. She found herself looking forward to Thursday even more. Maybe a good fuck session with Buddy would give her some insight. Tuesday night, while Lynn was showering, Paul rifled through his dresser drawers looking for something his grandfather had given him. Paul had played with it as a child, and when he joined the army, it had been his present. Paul's father and grandfather had both been in the service, and Grandpa had fought the Nazis in France after Normandy. He had taken a set of brass knuckles off a German body as a war souvenir, and Paul looked at it lying in his hand. It was a mean looking piece of equipment, steel rather than brass, and possibly illegal to own. His grandfather had told him to be very careful with it, but that it might come in handy some day. That day had almost come. This was war. Lynn and her lover had not played fair, and neither would he. ----- Paul forced himself to eat a hearty breakfast at work on Thursday morning. He would not be eating lunch, but he hoped his rival would. It would slow him down. Mostly, he paced the floor in his office, going over details. He had deposited a few items in the guest bedroom that he hoped to be able to utilize. That would depend on whether Lynn waited for her lover in the back yard or merely opened the gate and went back inside. No matter. He could adapt. He fingered the set of knuckles sitting on his desk. He paced and thought some more, stoking his controlled anger. By one o'clock, he had changed into jeans, a t-shirt and a stout pair of running shoes. He checked his pockets. Cell phone, keys, knuckles, billfold. Before leaving, he phoned Lynn from his desk phone so that she would be able to check the number and know he was really at work. That would preempt her call to him. He was calm and not at all threatening on the phone. He told her he had meetings all afternoon and wouldn't be near his phone, and his cell phone would be turned off, too. He said he might be an hour or so late getting home. Lynn took it as a good sign that he was drifting back to his normal docility because he had called to check in. She relaxed a little with this knowledge. Maybe she'd even give Paul a little reward with some "cool down/makeup sex" this evening. She began to get ready to meet her lover. A Wife in Sheep's Clothing It took twenty minutes for the two of them to drive to the park. Lover boy's car wasn't there yet. Anita dropped him off and he jogged down the street to his house and slipped into the back yard through the side gate on the end of the house away from the garage. He hid behind a photinia bush and waited, nervously checking the time on his phone, which was muted. At 1:45, Lynn appeared in the back yard, dressed in a string bikini, and headed to the back gate. She unlocked it and looked down the alley. Apparently seeing nothing of interest, she closed the gate and moved to a lounge chair under the big pecan tree. This was Paul's signal. He had left the side gate ajar, and he slipped back through the opening and around to the front door. Opening the door with his key, he walked over the spot where his wife's perfidy had been revealed a few days before. In the spare bedroom, he picked up a cordless drill and some hardware and walked into the master bedroom. In under a minute, he'd installed a hasp on the inside of the door and left a lock hanging on it. He placed a small piece of wood between the door edge and the jamb to prevent the door from closing, just in case his wife tried to shut it. His heart pounding, he took the drill to the guest bedroom, picked up the video camera, put the brass knuckles on his right hand, and waited. So many things could have gone wrong. He could have forgotten to do something. Lynn could have unlocked the gate much earlier and waited in the bedroom for her lover. Her lover could have arrived early, and he might have been caught in his preparation. But none of that happened. He did some breath control and waited for the final assault, planned and executed on his own terms. Paul was standing, looking through the slightly open guest bedroom door, the brass knuckles on his right hand, holding the video camera. The video quality wouldn't be good in this dark hallway, but he was sure the audio would be. He heard the sliding glass door moving and voices. Lynn was giggling, and a male voice was growling. He could picture the big man with his hands groping her. As they passed the guest bedroom, Paul could see that his wife's bikini top was already gone and hands were mauling her tits. They moved into the master bedroom, kissing and fondling, not attempting to close the door. Paul followed the short distance down the hallway, still recording. At the door, he knelt and peeked in. Buddy had his wife in a bear hug, tugging her bikini bottoms down while filling her mouth with his tongue. Lynn had her eyes closed and was working the buttons on his shirt. Buddy's hand squeezed her ass cheeks and slithered into her crack. He saw her react when his fingers found her pussy. Carefully, Paul set the video camera on the dresser just inside the door. He could see from the screen that it was pointed directly at the bed and the pair who were now falling into it. This would be the hardest waiting. He wanted to get the actual penetration recorded. No denials possible. No doubt whatsoever. God, he hoped she wouldn't give him a blow job first and slow things down. He was desperate to release his rage. He scooted back out the door and stood so that his legs would be ready for the challenge. He tried to limit the number of times he peeked, not wanting to alert them with movement. For a full five minutes, the couple stroked and caressed, both of them now naked. They would not be in a hurry today, since they had all afternoon to defile his marriage, but soon passion would overtake them. Paul heard them talking as he stood outside the door. Several times, Lynn called him 'Daddy'. Yeah, that fit his suspicions. She definitely had 'daddy issues'. "God, I can't wait for your pussy, baby. It seems like a year, and it's only been a week." It was Buddy's voice. "Mmm, me too. I know you'll keep my pussy busy all afternoon. My ass, too. You're so hard and I'm ready for you now. Go on, fuck me, Daddy." "I can tell you're ready. You're flowing like the Mississippi River down there." Paul peeked again and saw the bastard on his knees between Lynn's raised legs, lining up his cock. Then he saw him plunge and heard his wife scream in a way he never had before. They began moving together, uttering curses and unintelligible sounds. He'd seen enough. He touched the brass knuckles once more for luck and walked quietly to the bed. Lynn caught his movement just before he shoved the bigger man in the ribs as hard as he could, knocking him out of her hole and onto his side. "GET YOUR FUCKING COCK OUT OF MY WIFE, ASSHOLE!" he screamed. Buddy's shocked face took in the situation. It was her husband, obviously. Not a very big guy. He instantly reverted to type, and his type was 'bully'. He began to move off the other side of the bed, intending to deal with this annoyance. Paul stepped back a few paces as Buddy rounded the far corner of the bed and headed his way. Buddy mistook this move as a retreat. Lynn was now up on her knees, clutching the covers and screaming. "Get the hell out of here! Don't hurt him!" Which man was she talking to? Paul rocked back on his trailing foot, took a running step, and launched himself into Buddy's chest, bringing the brass knuckles as hard as he could into the solar plexus. They crashed onto the floor, with Paul's full weight collapsing the bastard's chest. When you can't breathe, all other considerations become moot. Buddy pushed, trying to get Paul off his chest. He made a high-pitched whining noise, unable to draw breath. Panic was in his eyes. Paul sat up, straddling his opponent, and Buddy's hands pressed on the floor, trying to get in a better position to take in air. Paul then delivered the coup de grace. Bringing his right hand high over his head, he brought the steel on his fist directly down on the center of Buddy's terrified face with as much force as he had. There was nowhere for the man's head to recoil and soften the blow. He heard bones give a satisfying crunch and watched blood start to pour out of his ruined face. Buddy's attempts to breathe were further hindered now by the blood flowing into his mouth and throat, and he was totally incapacitated. Paul got up and walked toward the door, satisfied with this first phase. He had been ignoring Lynn's screaming, but now he heard her words. "What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy? Get back here and help him!" He realized that she thought he was leaving. Running away. That was according to plan. A little psychological warfare. He kicked the small piece of wood away from the jamb and closed the door. He locked the hasp in place and turned to face his wife. Her looked turned from angry to frantic as she realized they were all locked in, and she naked and had no protection from this crazy version of her husband. Her tone changed instantly. "Paul, oh Paul! I know it looks bad, but he forced me into this. He's a bully. He threatened to hurt me, and you, too! He said he would kill you to have me. I had to do it. I didn't want to." He had been slowly approaching the bed as she spouted her lies, no expression on his face. Her eyes were so swollen with tears that she never saw the back of his hand coming. He knocked her across the bed onto her face. "Shut the fuck up, you lying cunt. I know you've been fucking him for months." Paul turned his attention back to the victim on the floor. He was gurgling, still gasping for air, and turning a little blue. Paul wanted him hurt, not dead. He pulled his legs so that he was positioned close to the iron bedstead. He put him on his side so the blood could drain. Reaching into his top dresser drawer, he brought out five pairs of handcuffs. He secured Buddy's ankles and wrists to the bedstead with four of them. Returning to his prone wife, he pulled her legs off the bed. Leaning over her, with his hips pressing against her warm ass, like they had on Monday, he pulled her arms down and cuffed them behind her back. Standing up, he jerked her by her shoulders to a vertical position and quick-marched her into the bathroom, where he deposited her ass on the toilet. "Paul, you hit me! I can't believe you hit me. Don't hurt me again, Paulie, please!" "This is the part where you spill your guts." Paul rubbed the brass knuckles as he spoke, making sure she saw them on his right fist. "I want the whole story. How you met, why you fucked him, why you thought it was okay to screw me over. I also want to know about all the other guys you've been fucking for the last ten years. We've got all afternoon, seeing as how you won't be spending it fucking that bastard after all." Lynn made a calculated decision. He obviously knew some things about her doings. How much did he know? Were there areas she could fudge to make her adultery sound less treacherous? Did she dare to lie to him again, after that slap he gave her? Her cheek was stinging and her jaw was sore. She knew it would take time for her face to heal from his blow. She decided she had to test the waters and go slowly. "Paul, I never wanted this to happen. He's such a big guy, and he's so aggressive. He came on to me at a party and lured me upstairs at the Holton's. I didn't know he was going to fuck me, but there was nobody around to help me. Sue saw it, and she can tell you he had me cornered." "And just what party was that?" asked Paul, fishing for more lies. Lynn calculated. It must have been Sue or Nick that told on her. Sue had only witnessed the New Year's party. "It was the New Year's party..." WHACK! She screamed from the pain of his second slap. "Liar! It was Halloween. You had fucked him twenty times or more by New Year's." "Who told?" she whimpered. "You'd be surprised. How many people do you think lover boy has told? Maybe it was one of them. But that doesn't matter." "Sue told you this. That bitch! I'll claw her eyes out! But I know something about her that will wreck her marriage, and I'll sure as hell use it." "Oh, you're talking about her new lover, Rod? Yeah, we all know about him. We made him up for your benefit. I actually came up with the name. Thought about calling him Dick or Lance. That got you talking, and Sue recorded the whole thing. It's copied onto a bunch of DVDs, just ready to send them out when I feel like it. Let's see, there's your daddy, your mom, that brother you hate..." Lynn cringed. "Actually, it wasn't Sue that told me what was going on initially. And Sue didn't tell me any details. She thought New Year's was your first and last time with him. Then you graciously dumped your whole whoring history onto that video. "And as for who tipped me off in the first place? We'll sweetie, do you remember a phone call you made to lover boy last Saturday, in our entry way? You said something about how much you looooove his big ol' cock. That's right, baby. You tipped me off. You told me everything I know about your whoring. "You know what? I don't think I need any more information. I pretty much know all I can stand to know. And you've just proven you can't tell the truth anyway. And anything else you want to say, you can say to my lawyer. You'll be served papers in a couple of days. The only thing left to do is to dispose of the two of you. I'll need to consult with an attorney about that." Paul pulled his cell phone out and dialed a number. "Anita, you wanna come in now and collect the garbage?" He listened and chuckled, and then closed the phone. Grabbing her shoulders again, he marched her back into the bedroom and showed her the sorry state of her lover, naked, handcuffed, wheezing and caked with blood. She almost vomited. Then he deposited her on the bed and shut off the video camera. He unlocked the bedroom door and opened it. Anita had been sitting outside in her car for several minutes, waiting for his call, and she entered the room within a few seconds. "Well, Anita, I saved you some of him. His face is not much to look at now, though. Here's his latest whore, my soon-to-be-former-wife Lynn. Have anything to say to her?" Anita approached Lynn sitting on the bed and slapped her hard across the left cheek, evening up the red marks on her face. "You stupid, stupid woman. Do you know how many times I would have traded you straight across for your man? All you had to do was ask. From all I know of him, he's just about perfect, especially compared to that trash on the floor. What a dumb fucking cunt you are!" "What are we going to do with them now, Anita? I'm inclined to toss this one out the door with no clothes on and see how long it takes her to find another fuck-buddy. Get it? Fuck Buddy?" "Well, I'm glad you saved his cock for me. I have a really sharp new hunting knife." "Oooh. We could cut off his cock and give it to Lynn! She just looooves his big ol' cock! And you can keep his balls in the vault so that the women of this town will be safe." "Actually, I'm going to exercise my prenup. That will put his balls in a wringer. He gets nothing if I catch him cheating, and boy have we caught him. We'll take him to the hospital and tell them what happened. I found him in the garage, where a heavy metal box had fallen and hit him in the face. He won't challenge the story, because he knows I can cut him off without a dime. If he cooperates, maybe I'll throw him a few crumbs. That leaves your whore to deal with. What do you propose?" "The only man in the world she really cares about is her daddy. He's her alpha dog. I'm wondering if maybe there wasn't a bit more to that story when she was growing up, but I don't have any proof. But if this divorce gets messy, Daddy will disinherit her like he did her sister. He can't stand the disgrace to his reputation. That will kill a pretty substantial inheritance and ruin her life, since half of what I have won't get her very far. Even after the divorce, I'll still have a couple of interesting videos to share if I feel like it. Maybe that will control the vindictive bitch in her. So, I'm gonna let her get dressed, take her car, and go find some place to curl up and cry for awhile. But Lynn, don't try the ATM or credit cards. They won't work for you. You probably have a few bucks in your purse, and here's another quarter for a two-bit whore." ------------ Epilogue: Paul remained friends with Anita, but mostly at a distance. Sometimes they call on each other when they're feeling low. Neither wants to jump into another relationship, having been burned so badly. One thing that really hurt Paul in the whole affair was his rough treatment of Lynn. That was not the real Paul. He had practically raped her that Monday, and he struck her twice. He likened it to war, where good men are capable of real cruelty, but he swore he would never be in that position again. On the other hand, he never gave a second thought to destroying Buddy's face. Anita's insurance paid for basic repairs to Buddy's face. She didn't spring for extensive reconstructive surgery. After she cut him loose, with a little more money than the prenup required, he found it very difficult to attract women. His depression deepened over the next few months, and he eventually dropped out of sight. Lynn took the offered settlement, which was reasonable. She begged her sister for help and moved in with her. She is still trying to figure out how she could have calculated so wrong. She gets ill every time she sees nature shows about predators and prey. She cringes when she hears the terms 'alpha dog' or 'pecking order'. Sometimes she has nightmares about what happened that night with Buddy and Paul. Sometimes, she really misses Paul. He doesn't miss her at all.