84 comments/ 29862 views/ 21 favorites Please Understand Me By: Mordant96 I sincerely hope you like my second contribution to "Loving Wives". Whereas my first submission was based on my life, and was about 90% factual with the names changed to protect the innocent and the guilty, "Please Understand Me" is 100% fiction. No genitals were harmed writing this story. I just wanted to break the template of: "I came home early because __________ (fill in the blank) and when I opened the door I heard moaning and sounds of sex coming from our bedroom. I felt sick to my stomach. I noiselessly slipped out of the house hoping my wife and her lover didn't see or hear me. I moved out, shut off my cell phone, answered no emails for the next six weeks while I secured my assets, etc., etc. . . . .How about this. The wife is frantically trying to contact her husband to tell him her identical twin sister and her husband are visiting and they arrived early and horny. {This might be the basis of my next submission!.} There is no BTB or going silent for six weeks here. The premise of this story is based on sound psychological theories. Remember, it is fiction. Mordant96 ***** Prologue My name is Jake Franklin. Karen, my wife of fifteen years, and I, fell in love the moment we first met. At the time we met, I was a lieutenant in the US Army Special Forces on leave from a two year tour in Iraq, and visiting a buddy in Alexandra, VA. I had a few days before I was due to check in at my new duty station at Fort Myers, VA. My friend was in love with a beautiful girl, Janie, who was attending Georgetown University in the District. It was her idea to double date with her roommate Karen. The rest of the story would be boring if related here; but, I assure you it was not boring for us. Young love will find a way, and we were married six months after that first double date. After my stint in the Army, I landed a great job with a large company that was on the cutting edge of Internet marketing. There is a large, unorganized network of former Special Forces that take care of each other. The brotherhood of those who have faced death and stared it down is a powerful force. No brother will turn his back on a comrade in need. I owed my job to LCOL. Brian Gorman, my CO in the sandbox. He was the CEO of the company and was glad to both help a comrade and get a good employee to boot. In the first years of our marriage, Karen and I were looking forward to expanding our family of two and having at least a couple of kids. However, it was not to be. I was not fully sterile, but close. I was wounded in the second battle of Fallujah; not seriously enough to leave me with a permanent disability, but a few broken bones and shrapnel embedded in my legs required multiple X-rays. The machine in the forward hospital exposed the boys to enough mrem of radiation to diminish the quantity of the little swimmers, so Karen couldn't get pregnant the normal way. We discussed several options but, for one reason or another, we never took that course of action. Chapter I, The day began without any sign that it would be a complete life changer for me and my little family of two. I was up at six to get ready to fly to Chicago for a major presentation to a client of my firm. The details were unimportant, but I was to leave home this Wednesday and return on Saturday. Karen had her usual complaint that I was going to be absent three days while she had to sit home alone. My retort, as always, was that I didn't go out of town that much, and the trip was necessary to the firm, and was what allowed our rather high standard of living. She drives the latest model Mercedes, and we have a part time maid. Karen does some work, part-time. She spends about four hours two days a week at the Museum of Modern Art. I don't know what she does, but she seems to enjoy it. Karen went to a good school, Georgetown, but her liberal arts degree didn't prepare her for a high paying professional job and I'm glad of it. A higher paid position would have her being away from home (and me) so I'm just happy with the status quo. I was dressed with my bags at the door, having a second cup of coffee and waiting for the taxi. Karen declined to take me to the airport, citing having too much to do today. No specifics, just had a busy schedule. Karen joined me at the kitchen table fully dressed, hair and makeup flawless. I looked at her with love and told her that she looked especially beautiful for such an early morning time. She usually stays in her robe and slippers until mid-morning. The cab was due in 15 minutes. It was eight o'clock when my cell rang with the tone I selected for my boss, Brian. Wondering what was wrong, I answered it. "Jake, I'm glad I caught you at home. The meeting's postponed two weeks. Take the day off, and I'll see you tomorrow." "Hey, honey, I don't have to go to Chicago after all. What would you like to do today?" I was not prepared for what she said and the way she was acting. "I can't do anything with you, I'm very busy today. Why don't you go play golf or take the boat out?" She was looking at her watch with a very anxious look on her face. "OK Sweetie, you never tell me to go play golf, so I'll do it for you," I laughed. "I'll go get my clubs from the garage." Karen could never play poker. Her emotions were telegraphed by her facial features. I saw extreme agitation replaced by relief in the fraction of a second. I knew something was going on, but I wasn't going to get it out of her by cross examination now. She would just get pissed and I don't need that right now. I looked at my watch and noted it was twenty of nine. If I get cracking, I can be on the links by, say, 10:30. Damn, I just remembered I had left my clubs in my partner's garage last week. He knew a guy who would give them a thorough cleaning and buff them up to look like new. So much for golf today. I know what I can do. My rose bushes in the front of the house are in bad need of a good pruning. Most people don't know that the secret of keeping blooming roses in good health is correct pruning on a regular basis. I went to the back of the garage and broke out my gardening clothes. I noticed my pruning shears were a bit rusty and needed sharping. I put on my old bib overalls with a faded plaid shirt. My boots and large straw hat completed my "gardener" costume. By the time I had sharpened the shears, and dressed for work, it was just a few minutes to nine. I was deciding where to start when Karen stepped out of the front door and screamed, "Why the Hell are you still here!" I didn't expect that and, frankly, could not figure out what was going on with her. I noticed that she had her phone in her hand, as if she going to call someone. She rushed back in the house. I turned to my rose pruning when a sleek Porsche 911 Carrara pulled up in the driveway. The driver yelled at me, "Oy, hombre, donde esta la senora de la casa?" The dumb shit thinks I'm the Mexican gardener. I thought I'll not disabuse him of that notion just yet. Maybe I'll find out what the hell is going on. I walked to the door and called "Senora, hay un hombre aqui para usted" Karen came out with a small suitcase in her hand. The guy in the Porsche called to her, "Hurry up Karen, we've got a four hour drive ahead of us before I can jump your bones. Did you kiss you poor dumbshit husband good-bye this morning? Karen looked at me with a strange, woeful look on her face and, in a low voice that the driver couldn't hear, said "Jake, I am so sorry you were here to see this. I must go with him now. You should have played golf today. I'll be home Saturday afternoon and explain." As the Porsche backed out of my driveway, I heard Karen shouting at the driver. "You bastard, why didn't you have your phone on?" I couldn't hear his reply, and didn't really care. I did have the presence of mind to memorize the license number. I really wanted to know all about this son-of-bitch who just destroyed my life. I felt a cold fury and remembered words from my father, "Don't get angry, son, get even." Oh, but I'm going way past even. When I'm finished with him, the asshole will wish he was never born, and so will my cheating wife. How could I not have seen this coming? Karen was the perfect wife in many ways, but I should have known. With no children or job, she just had too much time on her hands. I would never have thought she would fill that time with a fuck buddy. Did she love him? If she did, she should get the Academy Award for acting. I had no reason to think she didn't love me fully, with no reservation. Unless, she was telling herself she could love two men at the same time. These were questions for which I really needed answers. Practically, I could do the typical cuckolded husband thing and get a shark lawyer, cancel credit cards, hide assets—all the things the husbands in the Literotica stories do, including turning off the cell phones and deleting text messages and email without reading them, for days and even weeks. Not me, dammit, I wanted answers that I could only get from her; there had to be a reason for her behavior. Maybe, the Porsche guy had a partner who was holding Karen's niece hostage to force her to do things she would never do willingly. Okay, I was grasping at straws with that scenario. I'd have to wait until Saturday afternoon to get the answers that would explain her bizarre, uncharacteristic behavior. I decided to finish pruning my roses and then plan my course of action. After an hour and a half of mindless gardening, I had formulated the framework of a plan. Whether it was a viable, doable plan that wouldn't get me 10 to 20 in the state penal institution remained to be seen. Chapter 2 I took a long hot shower, put on shorts and a T-shirt and sat down in front of my computer to make a list. This was a preliminary short list. I could always add to it after geting some answers from my loving wife. Please Understand Me In a calm, even cold, voice I said "Who did this to you Karen?" My cold voice frightened her as she dropped her head and whispered "My Mas..., I mean Victor. He was very angry when we arrived at the Outer Banks. He hadn't spoken ten words the whole trip. I asked him what I did to make him so mad." He screamed at me, "You don't remember calling me a bastard in front of that wetback in your driveway?" You worthless bitch, it's a good thing that Mex didn't speak English or I would give you more than you going to get." "He and Barry tied me to the bed and he whipped me for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Barry and Wanda made him stop." She was sobbing now and I held her naked body until she calmed down. I said "I came up to ask if cold fried chicken and waffles sounded good to you. When I saw your back I just lost it." Even though I was speaking in a normal voice, I was holding in a white-hot fury that I would nurture until Victor McDonald gets much more than just payback for this assault on my wife. The details were still sketchy, but my plan was coming together. Karen was under the shower and told me chicken and waffles would be wonderful, particularly since I was fixing them for her. After her shower, Karen came down and sat at the kitchen table, just as she had done so many times before this disaster hit us. I used the plural pronoun "us" because I am coming to believe Karen is not the typical bored housewife looking for a sexual adventure without hubby finding out. There is something going on that transcends the typical cheating wife sordid story. She finished her plate quickly, eating like a starving person. I refrained from making any smart-assed comments, but I thought to myself that if Victor was fucking her for three days the least he could have done was feed her. I put the dishes in the sink and told Karen to go in the living room and that I would follow. I got a chilled cabernet sauvignon and two glasses and joined her. Karen was sitting at one end of the big leather couch so I sat at the other end with the wine on the coffee table between us. Karen is not a very small woman, she is about 5'7" and 130 lbs., but as she sat facing me with her legs tucked under her and her eyes downcast, she looked very small and vulnerable. My first instinct was to pull her in my arms, softly stroke her hair and tell her everything would be all be right, we will resume our lives as we have planned. Obviously, that is not going to happen right now. Maybe eventually, but not until I have full knowledge of why she left with that scumbag in the first place. I sat down on the other end of the couch, and unnoticed by Karen, I laid my iPhone on the coffee table after first setting the audio record mode. When I started speaking, Karen gave a little jerk almost as if I had struck her. She is wound as tight as a dollar watch. I said "We are going to stay right here and you are going to start talking. I want you to begin at the beginning and leave nothing out. I do love you, but if I sense you are lying, or leaving anything out, I will throw your butt out in the street and call your sister to come a get you from the curb. Over the years I have a developed a pretty accurate bullshit meter, so if you value our relationship and our marriage at all you will tell me the absolute truth and not some sanitized cotton candy version. You will leave NOTHING out no matter how bad or embarrassing. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME! Karen physically recoiled when I raised my voice to her, but she replied in a strong voice, "Jake, I fully understand and I swear I will tell you the absolute truth, as I know it. I don't really know everything that has happened to me because, now don't doubt me on this, but for the last six months it is as if I am two people, I am your loving, faithful wife who would be disgusted and repelled at what my other self was doing, If I fully understood what I was doing. Jake, I know how that sounds and you may not believe a word of it, but I swear that is the only way any of this makes sense. I'm convinced I am two people, like a female Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. If you can listen to me with that hypothesis as a basis of this situation, which is the only way to make any sense of my behavior, I hope you can forgive and help me to become that good self all the time. When what Karen just told me sank in, my first thoughts were: Either she's telling the truth or she is the cleverest cheating wife in all of Christendom. One person is the faithful wife and the other person is a cheating whore. What a deal. Can I swallow this BS? I'll let her finish, but reserve credulity until it all plays out. What she didn't see was that I had put my iPhone in the record mode to capture everything she, and I, said. I will have a good use for this narrative later on. Chapter 4 Karen started talking in a normal, rational voice, "Jake, do you remember about six months ago, you were going on one of your trips to Chicago and I told you that one of my college roommates was in town and I was going to dinner with her while you were gone?" I replied, "Truthfully, I don't remember it. If I really tried I might, but because it was such an innocuous thing, you going to dinner with a former college roommate, female roommate I assumed, it just didn't make it to my long term memory." Karen gave a low humorous less chuckle, "That "innocuous" event is the genesis of this whole life shattering episode. When I got to the restaurant expecting to meet Wanda, my ex-roommate, the maître d' took me to a dimly lit part of the room and a round booth. Wanda was setting between two youngish men. Wanda said "Hi Karen. See, I told you guys she's a bit older than you two studs, but she still has that sex appeal." Karen, this big hunky guy is Barry. He's mine. The dark handsome one is Victor—he's yours. Oops, I should say you are his. They all laughed at that as if it was the punch line of an inside joke. "Jake, you must believe me on this. I didn't know what to do. Wanda sandbagged me with these two somewhat unsavory characters. I fully expected to meet just Wanda and we would talk over old college shenanigans and go home alone before ten. I've had a lot of time to ponder that first meeting. It was fully orchestrated by Wanda. Somehow, she knew you were out of town and would not be back for at least three days. In college, Wanda was by far wildest of the four roomies. For example, one night I came home from studying in the library and opened the door to the scene of Wanda taking on three guys at once. That was when I learned the meaning of "being watertight." Wanda was always trying to bring us, the three other roommates, into her sexual adventures, and some were way beyond being watertight. One of the girls did succumb to Wanda's exhortations, but Janie and I kept telling her NO until she stopped pestering us. Unfortunately, Betty, the fourth roomie did run with Wanda until she contracted several STDs and got finally pregnant, all in one semester. With that history you are probably thinking, why the hell did I say yes to the dinner date with Wanda? Believe me darling, I've asked myself that question over and over. The best I can tell you is I really thought that after 15 or so years Wanda would have settled down. I mean there are a lot of people that are wild in college and then get married, have kids, and become normal people. Wanda is the exception. Her behavior has gotten worse, not better, as she aged. Please bear with me on this Jake. I really don't know the details on this; that is, I don't have a clear memory of that evening. I do remember that during dinner Victor's hands were busy trying to get into my panties with his grubby fingers. I finally had enough and told them I needed to go the ladies room. I made sure to take my purse and planned to slip out and go home. Unfortunately, Wanda read my mind and followed me to the ladies room. When I told her that I was leaving she begged me to stay just a little longer. She insisted that if I stayed just thirty minutes more she would walk me to my car. The lying bitch. The best I can surmise is Victor or Barry slipped a double dose of some drug in my drink while I was arguing with Wanda. I'm sure she knew exactly what they were going to do when she followed me into the ladies room and was promising she would walk me to my car." Jake was listening intently to Karen and had to admit this all sounded just like the Karen he knew and loved. He also mentally added Wanda's name to Victor's for deadly retribution. He would reserve judgement on the Barry character until he knew more. "Jake, I know this is hard to believe. It is for me, so I know it must be for you too. My recollection is that one minute I was sitting at the table trying to keep Victor's fingers out of my panties, and the next I was stark naked and spread-eagled on a bed with rough ropes tied in slip knots on my wrists and ankles secured to the bed posts. I started screaming and Wanda came in the room." "Good Morning sunshine. How does the movie star feel this morning?" Movie star? "Wanda, Why do call me a movie star and please untie me. I need to pee and I'm very thirsty." "Just a minute, let me get the boys and we'll all watch the premier of your hit movie Karen's First Threesome. She laughed and said, "Remember back in college when you and Janie thought I was a slut because I liked sex and you two looked down your nose at me for three years? Well Sunshine, welcome to the world of a slut." "I still didn't fully understand what Wanda was talking about, but I knew if she was involved it wasn't something I would like. Just then Victor and Barry came in the room carrying a big flat screen TV and a VCR. They put the TV on a table in the corner and Victor said "ShowTime!" Karen's voice quivered and tears formed in her eyes. "Jake, I can't describe what was in that video. I hope you never see it. Do I have to describe every nasty detail?" At this point I have heard enough to know my love, my life is completely blameless in this sordid tale. I stood up, took the three steps needed to pull my marriage, my life, together. I grabbed Karen by the shoulders and enveloped her in my arms. I kissed her like I had never kissed any one before, even her. "My darling, my beautiful wife, I will not forgive you" She jerked back and looked at me with terror on her face. "You won't forgive me?" "No, I won't, because you did nothing to be forgiven for. You are a victim, and you need my love and protection, not forgiveness." Karen squeezed me in a tight hug and put her tear-stained face in the hollow of my neck. "Thank you, thank you, my big, strong hero. You have no idea what I was thinking when I walked in here three hours ago. I was so afraid our marriage was over and I had lost you forever. But, Jake I've only told you a small part of what I've been doing this last six months." I looked straight into her tearful eyes. "When you started telling me this I told you I would not tolerate any lies or prevarication of any nature. You have told me the unvarnished truth. Now let me tell you what I think happened since that night. Victor told you that if you didn't do exactly as you were told, he would send me a copy of this video, and probably to your family and where you work. Is that about right?" She looked at me with new appreciation of her husband's perception and knowledge of human nature. "That was exactly what he said. Jake, I could not face you if you had watched that horrible video. He owned me. I would do anything to keep that video away from you." I knew I had to assure her that I was with her all the way' "Darling, you are blameless for everything except this one thing. You did not trust me to know that you would not do the things on that video willingly. You could have saved us both a lot of heartache if you had told Victor to piss up a rope, and, if he didn't take you home immediately, your husband would rip his head off and shit down his neck. Before we go to bed, I want to read you something." I went to my office and brought my laptop into the living room. I booted it and Googled "Rohypnol." I turned the laptop to her so she could read from the screen: When used as a vehicle to incapacitate a potential sexual assault victim rohypnol is often dropped into a drink where it dissolves without the victim ever knowing they have ingested it. Very often people who have been slipped a roofie have no recollection of what happened to them when they were under the influence of the drug. The effects of Rohypnol typically begin being felt twenty to thirty minutes after the drug is taken, they peak within a couple of hours, and the effects may last anywhere between eight and twelve hours. Roofies are used to eliminate normal inhibitions and to facilitate rape. "Karen, you are the victim here and I will be by your side until we can put all this behind us." "But Jake, there is a whole lot more you don't know. Victor told the truth when he said he owned me. He became my Dom, and I was his sub. You don't know about the D/s life style. He became my Master and I am, was, his slave. Oh Jake, I don't know what would happen if Victor pulled into the driveway tomorrow and told me to get into his car. I just don't know. Do you remember what I said to you last Wednesday morning? I said 'I must go with him now.' The operative word was must. Even with you standing there and watching, I had to get in the car because my Master wished it." I was listening to her intently. She was trying to make me understand that this is a lot more than a simple blackmail based on one amateur porn flick. "Karen, did you begin this Master/slave -Dom/sub relationship right away?" "No Jake, at first when Victor called me and told me to come to his apartment or anywhere else he wanted, I did it because of the video. However, over time he became my Master. He would abuse me just like he did last Wednesday. He told me to lay face down while he put the ropes around my wrists and ankles, and I did. I just couldn't not do it. He is my Master." I was starting to get a bit heated up, as any real man and husband would. "OK Karen, who am I?" "Oh, Jake you are my husband, and I love you more now than ever. I told you, I am two people, when I'm with you, you are my world and I never think of my Mas . . . . Victor." I replied, "And when you are with your Master?" Karen answered like she was explaining a simple concept to a retarded person, "Yes Jake, when I am with Victor I never think of you. Don't you see, I cannot think of you? You don't belong in the world of Dom/sub. You are good and light. Victor is evil and dark." I still didn't get it, "But Karen, you are not two people, you are my wife. One person." "Jake, please understand me. I must be two people. I cannot exist as one person." I was trying to understand this and had one more question. "But Karen, you were one person before you were drugged by Victor, can't you go back?" Karen's gaze went to a point above my shoulder. Her eyes were out of focus and it was apparent she was in deep thought. I know she wanted to be truthful, but the truth could be hurtful. She came back to Earth and said very softly. "Not as long as Victor is still alive." I didn't have anything else to say, no more questions. I did understand. Karen gave me the answer and told me what I had to do. I reached over to my wife and pulled her to her feet. "Darling, I'm sorry about the doors, I'll put them back tomorrow so you can lock your bedroom. Tonight, you'll just have to trust me not to sneak into your bed in the middle of the night." "Jake. Please, please sleep with me tonight. You don't have to make love to me. I know there may be images in your head that you didn't put there, but you can't get rid of them. I have the useful trick of compartmentalizing my life into the good and the bad. I don't recommend it as a lifestyle, but it has kept me sane for six months." "Karen, let's go to bed now and tomorrow we will go to Mass and pray that we can get through this and come out the other end stronger and with the trust we had six months ago." We went to bed and we did hold each other tight. We did not make love. The holding was enough. Karen thanked me over and over for understanding that none of this was her preference. She never wanted to go to Victor. He simply had this power over her that trumped her own free will. Sunday was a day of rest and spiritual renewal. We both went to early Mass after going to confession first. We held hands throughout the service. I did wonder what Karen told the young priest at her confession, it seemed he was looking at her, more than any of the other parishioners, during the homily. After Mass we went straight home and tried to make this Sunday as normal as possible and as close to the Sundays in happier times. We made an unspoken pledge not to talk any more about D/s, Victor, or being two people. We tried to comport ourselves just as we would have nine months ago, BV. Before Victor. We went to a good restaurant that evening and tried to act as any happy early middle-aged couple. It was a good Sunday. Before we went to bed, I told Karen that I had to leave her alone for a while tomorrow. I had things to do and I did not want to worry about Victor coming to the house. I was going to secure the front door with a 2 x 4 bar. The back door was metal with a small window and a hefty deadbolt. I told her I would give her the Glock and, if Victor was stupid enough to break a window to get in, she should shoot the sonofabitch. I asked her if she could shoot him if need be. Her answer was short and positive, she said "Gladly." I told her to go on to bed and I would join her shortly. I made two phone calls. One to Brian to tell him exactly what was going on and he reaffirmed his unqualified support. The other was to Doug to ask him to have a patrol car check the house periodically tomorrow and keep a look out for a black, late model Porsche 911. I would bet a week's pay Victor has some wants and warrants or at least a bunch of traffic tickets. Then I downloaded the audio file from my iPhone and made two CDs of Karen's Saturday afternoon confession. Now for the list that I couldn't make until I understood what was going on with Karen. I am convinced that the very last thing on Karen's mind was to cheat on me with Victor. I realize there is more going on with Karen than I can fully comprehend now, but fortunately I know who can make sense of this Gordian Knot of Karen's undiagnosed psychological disorders. As a computer software engineer in one of the largest computer marketing companies, I also teach at Old Dominion University as an adjunct professor of computer science. I find it to be an excellent way to keep abreast of a fast moving field. I also keep an eye out for the exceptional students in order to recruit them to come work for us when they graduate. As adjunct faculty I made friends of one of the world's foremost clinical psychologists. He was a full professor at the University of Michigan until his love of sailing and a warmer climate motivated him to transfer to ODU a few years ago. Dr. Sean Erikson can untangle Karen's issues, if anybody can. Item #1 on my list is to call Sean at the university. Now to the list. Please Understand Me Please Understand Me "Yes, Honey. They have a dance floor, but no live music on Monday nights. We can feed the juke box, though, if you want to dance." Her eyes sparkled, it was nice to see that after all the tears she had shed since Saturday. "Let's go, sweetheart. Bye Sean, thanks for everything, and we'll see you in the morning at eight." The club was nearly empty for two reasons. Both carriers were at sea and it was Monday. I was a bit disgusted at the number of single women at the bar and setting by twos at the tables. When I went to the bar to get drinks for Karen and me, I didn't see any wedding rings but there were several with light skin where the rings should be. Oh well, not my problem. My problem is well on the way of being over. My mind kept going to the little cabin at the abandoned SecGru station. I was like a kid waiting for Christmas and his presents. Soon, it'll be over soon. Chapter 6 We got home about 11:30, and Karen headed upstairs. I set the house alarm, checked the first floor for security and made sure all the lights were out except the small nightlight in the kitchen. The bedroom door (recently reinstalled) was closed but not locked. The room was semi-dark, with several lit candles around the room. The shower was running and the bathroom door was half closed so I barely heard Karen when she said, "Jake, I need you in here. Please come in the shower with me and look at my back. It is itching and I hope that means it is healing" Did I take my clothes off and join her? You bet your sweet ass I did. I think I heard a few buttons hit the tiles in the process. I stepped in and stood behind her. This was the first time I'd seen her fully naked since last Saturday when I first looked at her damaged and striped back. It looked much better. No scabs and all the redness was gone. She said, "Honey, you know Jannine next door just had her baby a few months ago. I had her over for coffee when you were gone and asked her if she had any of the cream lotion that reduces stretch marks on a new mom's stomach. She said she did have some of that stuff and ran over to get a tube and gave it to me. I've been using it, and I think it is working. Would you mind rubbing some of it in my back? It is hard for me to reach." I said, "Of course darling, why did you wait until now to ask? "Oh Jake, I am just so ashamed of what I did and I didn't want to remind you of that terrible three days." "Baby, I hope Sean will help you to realize none of this is your fault, and more importantly, that I don't blame you for anything." During this conversation I was soaping her back, front, and everywhere else. "Jake, I want to believe that. But . . . . . " "But what my darling wife?" "Why don't you want to make love to me? Do you feel that I am dirty because of what Victor did to me?" I didn't immediately answer, because I wanted to formulate my answer in the very best way for Karen's sake. Karen gave a little cry and bolted from the shower, grabbed her robe from the hook and threw herself across the bed, sobbing as if her heart would break. "Oh Jake, you do think I'm dirty!" I know you don't want to touch me. Are you going to leave me? If you do, I want to die." OK asshole. How are you going to fix this? I'm supposed to be above average in IQ. Think quick. At that moment a flash of inspiration hit me. I rushed into the bedroom, grabbed Karen's ankles, being careful not to touch the rope burn areas, and flipped her over on her back. I threw open her robe and covered her smooth hairless pussy with my mouth. Hmm. I really like her smooth mound. This is one good thing to come out this mess. Karen gave a little gasp when my tongue licked from her clean little rosebud up to her hooded clit. A clit that wasn't going to remain hidden for long. I know that Karen is super sensitive all around her clit that when fully engorged is at least a quarter of an inch long. I gave it all my attention until she began her ascent to a massive orgasm. Her whole body shook and she was moaning with joy. The orgasmic plateau lasted nearly a full minute. When I sensed she was back on earth with me, I slowly moved up covering her torso and breast with my lips and tongue. When I arrived at her mouth, I let her taste herself on my lips. Her tears were gone and her face was glowing. I said, softly, "Do you still have that nutty idea in your pretty little head that I think you are dirty?" "Oh NO, Jake. I think you really do love me. Thank you for convincing me in the very best way." "My pleasure, Love. Now, I have a question." "Anything baby," she said, but her expressive face showed she was bracing for something unpleasant, possibly about the sexual play with Victor. I looked intensely into her beautiful blue eyes. "Do you want to do it missionary or doggie?" She laughed hard, loud, and long. "Both! And then surprise me." Wednesday morning we both looked at the alarm clock with hate. However, we said good morning with a deep, meaningful kiss. Morning breath be damned. "OK Love. This is your last session with Sean. Are you ready?" "More than ready Baby, I'm eager. I really think he is doing wonders for me. I knew that she really didn't have a clear memory of what went on at yesterday's session, and because of Sean's post-hypnotic block, she was simply stating the correct and polite thing to say. I am truly looking forward to hearing Sean's final diagnosis and treatment plan. I'm confident he will probe Karen's past and current issues and come up the total truth of her condition. I dropped Karen off close to Sean's office and, since she knew the way, I did not accompany her. I had something very important to do and not a lot of time to do it. Doug had given me Victor's address and now I was going to find out more about this bottom feeder. Victor lived in a bad neighborhood in the area south of the Little Creek Amphibious base. I drove by his small 40s era clapboard house, and noted it was not in a good state of repair. The address was 2907 Mattson Ave. I parked around the corner on Dominion St. and walked down Dominion until I was behind 2907 Mattson. I slipped between two houses until I was in Victor's weed and trash strewn back yard. I looked through the one grimy window into the garage. The Porsche was not there. I stealthily circled the shack and had a clear view into every room. The house was not occupied. The back door was secured by a flimsy lock that easily yielded to a credit card slipped between the door and the jam. Standing in the kitchen I almost gagged. The odor of rotting food that emanated from the stacked dishes in the sink would gag a maggot. Empty pizza boxes littered the floor. I exited the revolting kitchen and went into what could have been the master bedroom. It was the larger of the two bedrooms in the four room house. A cramped and filthy living room was in the front of the house. As I stood in the larger bedroom my mind recreated what must have gone on in this house of horrors. There was the 21 thread sisal rope tied to the four corners of the king sized bed that filled the room, two chairs were positioned to give a good view of the bed. Closer examination of the padded headboard revealed dark brown splatters that could have been Karen's blood from the whippings that happened in this room. I made a resolution that, when this shit was over, I'm coming back and burn this nauseating hovel to the ground. My goal here was to find the video that was made six months ago and was used to blackmail Karen. I brought a blank CD and a magic marker to mark and replace that video CD. That was a good idea, but when I found Victor's stash of homemade porn CDs under a loose board in the smaller bedroom I decided to take them all and let Victor guess who took them. There were about 15 CDs with different women's names. Thank God one of the CDs was labeled Karen Franklin. There was nothing else I need in this stomach-churning dump. I left thru the back door being sure to lock it. The foray into Victor's den of iniquity only took a few hours, so I decided to go home and touch base with Doug and Brian. I called Brian first and told him things were looking up and I would be back to work next Monday. He said he was still standing by if I needed anything at all. I thanked him again and said I would call him if anything changed. Next was my police detective buddy, Doug. I thanked him for the police surveillance of the last few days and said it would only be needed for a few more days. He asked if I wanted to come to the precinct for a face to face. I demurred, but said I would see him next week if all goes well and as planned. I spent an hour or so on the computer with CheckMate finding out all I could about Wanda and Barry. I hadn't forgotten their part in this play. I have been concentrating on the sadistic evil bastard Victor McDonald, but when I'm finished with him,I will visit a proper ration of retribution on those despicable pieces of shit. About 2PM, I received a call from Sean. He said he and Karen were finished, and he would like to have an hour or so with the two of us together. I told him I would be at his office in about 20 minutes. At 2:30 I knocked on Sean's door. He opened the door and asked me in, gesturing to one of the two empty overstuffed chairs. Karen was in the third chair and her expressive face was beaming. I sat down and said, "Sean, if Karen's face is any indicator you have something good to tell me. He replied, "I do indeed, and I am going to deviate from the normal practice of debriefing you out of Karen's hearing. I think she really needs to see and gauge your reaction to what I'm about to say. But first, I want you to read this: He handed me a single sheet and said "This is a copy of a page in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV-TR). The DSM - IV is the ultimate authority for professional who diagnose mental disorders. Please read this carefully. The highlighted sentences are particularly germane. ===================================================================== 300.14 Dissociative Identity Disorder {formerly Multiple Personality Disorder} Diagnostic Features The essential feature of Dissociative Identity Disorder is the presence of two or more distinct identities or personality states e.g. (Criterion A) that recurrently take control of behavior (Criterion B). There is an inability to recall important personal information, the extent of which is too great to be explained by ordinary forgetfulness (Criterion C). The disturbance is not due to the direct physiological effects of a substance or a general medical condition (Criterion D). In children, the symptoms cannot be attributed to imaginary playmates or other fantasy play. Dissociative Identity Disorder reflects a failure to integrate various aspects of identity, memory, and consciousness. Each personality state may be experienced as if it has a distinct personal history, self-image, and identity, including a separate name. Usually there is a primary identity that carries the individual's given name and is passive, dependent, guilty, and depressed. The alternate identities frequently have different names and characteristics that contrast with the primary identity (e.g., are hostile, controlling, and self-destructive). Particular identities may emerge in specific circumstances and may differ in reported age and gender, vocabulary, general knowledge, or predominant affect. Alternate identities are experienced as taking control in sequence, one at the expense of the other, and may deny knowledge of one another, be critical of one another, or appear to be in open conflict. Occasionally, one or more powerful identities allocate time to the others. Aggressive or hostile identities may at times interrupt activities or place the others in uncomfortable situations. Associated descriptive features and mental disorders. Individuals with Dissociative Disorder frequently report having experienced severe physical and sexual abuse, during childhood. Controversy surrounds the accuracy of such reports, because childhood may be subject to distortion with some individuals with this disorder are highly hypnotizable and especially vulnerable to suggestive influences. However, reports by individuals with Dissociative Identity Disorder of a past history of sexual or physical abuse are often confirmed by objective evidence.. Individuals with Dissociative Identity Disorder manifest posttraumatic symptoms (e.g., nightmares, flashbacks, and startle responses) or Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. Self-mutilation and suicidal and aggressive behavior may occur. Some individuals may have a repetitive pattern of relationships involving physical and sexual abuse. Certain identities may experience conversion symptoms (e.g., pseudoseizures) or have unusual abilities to control pain or other physical symptoms. Individuals with this disorder may also have symptoms that meet criteria for Mood, Substance-Related, Sexual, Eating, or Sleep Disorders. Self-mutilative behavior, impulsivity, and sudden and intense changes in relationships may warrant a concurrent diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder. "Jake, when Karen first told you she felt as if she were two people, she was spot on. She accurately self-diagnosed without any formal psychological training. Let me tell you something I don't think you know about your remarkable wife. First, I've administered the Stanford-Binet IQ test. Karen tested over 140 IQ. That is the fourth standard deviation from the normal IQ of 100. In percent terms, your wife is in the top 0.3% of the general population. She is right up there with Stephen Hawkins and Albert Einstein." Karen sat in her chair with her eyes downcast. The emotion on her face was acute embarrassment. "Now Jake, with that brain power, why isn't Karen a world class physicist, or CEO of a Fortune 500 corporation? Why? Because along with that incredible brain, she has an equally large false sense of inferiority. She simply doesn't believe she can succeed in any endeavor. How has she spent her free time during your marriage? In a volunteer position at the local museum. What a colossal waste of a towering intellect. Karen has told me she has never discussed her formative years with you. She was very resistive to divulging it to me, and I had to resort, with her permission, to deep hypnosis. She still does not have clear memories of her first 16 years. Only with powerful hypnotic techniques could I unlock those deeply suppressed memories. I have her permission to tell you now. Jake, she loves you very much to agree to share these hidden memories with you. I hope you appreciate the anguish she has been going through these last six months in the clutches of that master sadist and especially these last few days when she was confessing everything, of what she knew, to you." Karen's Story: as told by Dr. Erikson Karen's father was killed in the Vietnam War when she was an infant. Her mother struggled to raise her and her older sister. About 1975 her mother remarried to another Vietnam vet. I can only speculate on this; but, I believe Karen's stepfather was suffering from extreme PTSD. He was criminally abusive to both Karen and her mother for years. For an unknown reason he did not sexually or physically abuse Karen's older sister, Darlene. Not only did the stepfather sexual abuse Karen frequently and violently, he emotionally abused her by constantly telling her she was a slut and a whore. He called her slut or whore constantly and did not ever use her given name. He denigrated any and everything she did; telling her she would never accomplish anything except to be the best cocksucker in the whore house. Fortunately, for Karen, the stepfather was killed while robbing a convenience store when she was 17. If he was still in the picture, it would have been doubtful that she could have attended college. As it was, her grades did not reflect her true intellect. Her major was art history, which is not an academically rigorous field. The young Karen desperately wanted her step-father to love her, as improbable as that would be. She expressed that cry for love by doing anything and everything, that little girl could do to satisfy her step-father. The link between acceptance and sexual denigration was strongly forged early in her life. It was this perfect storm of Karen's damaged ego and an egotistical psychopathic sadist that caused her to become a submissive to the dominating Victor. In a very real sense, Victor became Karen's abusive stepfather. The other part of this scenario was the defense mechanism created by Karen that was the multiple personality. This was the way an extreme submissive personality could interact in a deviant sexual way that would not harm the "good girl" personality. I concluded that fact from the memory blackouts that allowed the good Karen to be a dutiful, functional, and faithful wife, while the "bad Karen" was Victor's sex slave, absorbing vicious physical and sexual abuse. In effect Karen was a throwback to her role under her stepfather. It was the "good" Karen that called Victor a bastard for not having his cell phone on and it was the "bad" Karen that whispered to you Jake, "I must go with him." Sean turned to me and said "Jake, stop beating yourself up because you did not discover Karen's secret life for six months. The unforeseen circumstance of your Chicago trip being canceled at the last minute and Karen's inability to phone Victor to head him off was propitious. I can project that if that phone call from your boss, cancelling your trip to Chicago, did not happen, there is no predicting how long Karen would be trapped in this horrific situation." Quo Vadis. . . Where do we go from here? Well first and foremost Karen cannot be allowed to fall under Victor's spell again. The trauma could very well do permanent damage or even suicide. Jake take this remarkable woman home and shower her with love and protect her with your life. You're a smart guy, figure out a way to use her superior intellect to make her and your lives productive and happy. My door is always open and I want you to come back every month so I can evaluate your progress and perhaps suggest things you can do to optimize her potential. For starters, I strongly suggest she enrolls as a full time graduate student here in ODU in a field of her choice, but not art history. Maybe astrophysics, or organic chemistry. Something her brain can push against. I dare say, it won't be too long before she eclipses her professors here and she will have transfer to MIT, Stanford, or CalTech. Chapter 7 Apparently, Sean had removed the post-hypnotic block to her memory because she talked non-stop on the way home about what Dr. Erikson had shown her and why Victor had dominated her for six months. He told her why she was afraid to show her incredible intelligence and suggested what she could do to realize her full potential. Jake was so proud of her. A lesser person could have just folded up and sunk further and further into this D/s morass of depravity, but not this highly intelligent, incredibly beautiful, faithful wife that has stood by his side for 15 years and will continue to be there for many decades in the future. Wednesday evening was a pleasurable experience of discovery. Both Jake and Karen took delight in showing each other how strong and deep their love really was. No area was off limits. Each revealed to the other their secret fears, hidden fantasies, ambitions and dreams. It was a magical night. Thursday morning Karen asked Jake if she could have her sister, Darlene, over to talk. Karen wanted to tell Darlene how their stepfather had foreclosed Karen's future and what effect he had had on her. Of course, Jake said Darlene was always welcome in their home. Please Understand Me There was one nagging issue that was unresolved. Where was Victor? It had been a week since his Porsche pulled in the driveway and left with a subservient Karen. Jake vowed he would find Victor and get him in that little cabin in the Northwest communications station, and, according to Sean, he quicker the better. Jake waited until Darlene had arrived before leaving. He made both girls promise that if Victor showed his slimy face they would call Detective Rawlins first and me second. I wanted to go back to Mattson Ave. and see if Victor was still living there or had gone to ground someplace else. I was getting out of the car on Dominion when my cell rang. It was a near hysterical Darlene. She said Victor had called Karen and told her he would be in the driveway in five minutes and for her to meet him. Darlene was incredulous when Karen went out the back door, walked around the house and waited on the porch. Victor must have been parked down the street because he was in the driveway in about two minutes. Karen calmly walked to the passenger side of the Porsche and climbed in. "What the hell is going on Jake? Why did Karen go with that total piece of shit? What can I do? Karen took her phone and I don't have Detective Rawlins' phone number. Why didn't Karen call him or you?" "It's complicated Darlene. Go home and wait. I will contact you later." I was already just a few blocks from Victor's house when I took Darlene's call, so I should be able wait here for him to bring Karen to me. I stepped on it and arrived at Dominion St. and parked so I could have access to the rear of Victor's house. I approached the house, looked in the driveway and the garage. No Porsche. I did my credit card trick on the back door thankful I had left it locked the last time I was here. Stupid shit, didn't he know cheap locks are the burglar's friend? I gambled that Victor would bring her to his house and not some other place and when I saw the black Porsche pull in the garage, I knew I had been lucky to win my gamble. Let's hope my luck holds today. I surmised that Victor didn't want his neighbors to see him taking Karen into his house and, because it was an attached garage, he could get her in without anybody seeing her. The attached garage would work for me as well. I stood in the kitchen just to the left of the door from the garage; when an unsuspecting Victor opened the door and took one step in the house, I quickly grabbed his shoulder and put him in a forearm choke hold from his back. Karen just stared at me and then started pounding me on the back with her little fists. She screamed "Let him alone. You are going to hurt him. Who are you?" Ah, that last scream gave it away. Karen was in her "bad girl" persona. Her beating fists were like a massage on my back, so I just let her flail way until I felt Victor go limp for lack of oxygen. I let him slump to the floor and whirled around and captured Karen's arms and gave her a deep kiss. She stopped struggling and I watched her give a little shudder and her eyes went from a wild non-focus to the clear intelligence of my wife. I said "Hello Karen what brings you here?" She quickly assessed the situation "I let Victor bring me here didn't I?" I responded "No, not really. You didn't. It was your alternate self that did." She looked at the comatose Victor at our feet and said. "And my knight on a white horse saved me again." "Right, I left my horse tied to the back gate." I dragged Victor to the bedroom, found some cable ties, and said. "You know how these things work. We need to tie Victor up and get him ready to transport. I need to stay here in case he wakes up. Here's the keys to my car. Go straight between those two houses and you will see my car. Open the trunk and bring me the motorcycle helmet bag, and the 21 thread sisal rope. Then go in the bedroom and get the rubber ball gag." Karen said, "I can do that, but where are you taking him?" "That is something you can't know right now. You still have your cell phone? Call Darlene and tell her you are all right. I need to bring our car around and put it in the garage so we can dump Victor in the trunk without nosy neighbors calling the police. " Karen was already at work with the cable ties trussing Victor up in a little ball. She took the D/s rubber ball gag and roughly jammed it in his mouth and pulled the black helmet bag over his head. She was possibly recalling the times he did the same to her. I had to chuckle to myself. This is a much better plan than I had formulated that involved slipping him a roofie. A good old-fashioned choke hold did the trick without the uncertainty of the dose of the drug to knock a man out long enough to transport him. You make a good plan and then are flexible enough to accommodate this kind of serendipitous situation. The Ranger Way. In his arrogant move to get Karen back to his house of horrors, he actually facilitated his road to retribution. I looked straight at Karen and said, "I left the keys in the Porsche, take it home and put it in the garage. Stay there and I will be home in a few hours. Karen's face was set in her "I will have my way" expression. She said with conviction "I'm going with you." "Oh no, you're not. What I'm going to do with Victor is way outside of the law and I don't want you beside me in court. I may go to court, but I want you watching from audience not in the dock." "Jake, I have no choice. Even Dr. Erikson said it. The only way I can be free from Victor is if he is dead. Not that you tell me he is, I need to see it myself. I want to see the light go out in his eyes. Please, please, I must go with you. Besides, you know I can't drive a stick shift." It was not lost on me that she used the same words that she used last Wednesday morning that seemed so long ago. On one side, I wanted to protect her from being a lawbreaker. But, she is so correct when she cited Dr. Erikson's words that this piece of garbage would haunt her for the rest of our lives if she didn't know exactly what Victor's fate was to be. I did not plan to kill him, but if Karen tells me it is necessary, I will. After he cuts his own cock and balls off. The fact that she can't drive the Porsche cinches it. I can't leave her here, and I don't want to drive all over Norfolk and VA Beach with Victor in the trunk. If Karen is going to be my partner, I'm going to have to read her in on the whole thing. I really wish I could confer with Dr. Erikson to determine if this intense event might damage her psyche. I held Karen by her shoulders and looked straight in her eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this? I warn you, my plan is not pretty. It can get bloody and disgusting, but I'm not going to change it just to satisfy you. Do you understand? Once we start, there is no stopping, no turning back." "Jake, I don't care what you are planning to do with Victor. How about we build a small fire and roast him like the pig he is? OooKaay, I guess if she is up to slow roasting Victor over a low fire, she won't flinch at cutting his cock and balls off, or making him cut them off himself with a dull, plastic knife. I'm just going to trust that my fantastic wife does have the strength of character to follow through with my plan. It appears I don't really have a choice, so I will take a page from that great US Navy hero, Admiral David Farragut, and say "Damn the Torpedoes and Full Speed Ahead"! I told Karen to watch Victor while I moved our car around and put it in the garage so we could stuff Victor in the trunk without an audience. I should have known my wife, the off the charts genius, was made of stern stuff. She said "Jake, whither thou goes, and I will add, whatever thou doest. I'm at your side or watching your back, whatever gets the job done." With Victor secure in the trunk of our car and the Porsche in his garage, we headed for the former Northwest Naval Security Group Activity. On the way I briefed her on what was going to happen and how I was going to include her in the script. "Karen, remember that day last Wednesday when Victor told you that, if that dumb wetback had understood English he would have beaten you harder?" Ah, my super smart wife immediately grasped the entire plan. "Of course, you are going to be that Spanish speaking wetback, and if Victor survives, he will think a poor illegal immigrant did it to him. You might be behind it, but there is no proof." "Bingo, smarty pants. So we must be careful in two important things. While the bag is off Victor's head he can only see me in my Mexican gardener's clothes—they are in the trunk along with everything else. He can't see you or hear you at all." Karen looked at me with an expression I have never seen before. I cannot describe the expression, but I think I can describe the emotion behind it. It was a combination of her strength that will be needed to pull this off, mixed with the extreme joy that full retribution will be served to the person who had made her life these last six months, a living Hell, and would have destroyed her and her marriage. "Jake, let's do it" With traffic heavier than normal it took over an hour to get to the little cabin. I had used the bolt cutters my last visit and positioned the cut lock to look like it was intact. I removed the chain and opened the gate. I was getting excited to finally get my retribution - not revenge - on Victor. I gave a thought to Karen, she has no idea what I'm going to do. Will it be too intense for her, will she beg me not to be so cruel? Down deep, does she have vestiges of feelings for this creep? Well, let's see. I pulled the car around the back of the little cabin just in case someone is snooping or if there is a modicum of security in place. Karen joined me when we popped the trunk. We did not speak, but I think we both were thinking the same thing. Victor is awake and struggling against the cable ties. Ha, Sunshine, it's going to get a whole lot worse than a ride in a cramped trunk. I grabbed one of the ropes that Karen had wrapped around this piece of garbage, and roughly pulled him out of the trunk to the ground. He gave a grunting sound around the rubber ball stuffed in his mouth. While Victor was on the ground, I reached in my goodie box and handed Karen a pair of paper booties and a hairnet. My uber smart wife grasped the concept immediately. No evidence must be left behind linking us to this area. I used a hair net under my straw hat, and put on the paper booties. When this was over we were going to burn all our clothes including my boots. I even brought a small broom to obliterate our tire tracks. I cut the cable ties and removed the rope that was around Victor's legs so he could stand. I grabbed his belt at the small of his back and frog marched him into the cabin. It was about four in the afternoon, and there was plenty of light in the little cabin. I secured him to the table in the face down position I had practiced on myself yesterday. Only this time I replaced the cable ties with the 21 thread sisal rope on his arms and legs and pulled the slipknots tight with all my strength. I motioned to Karen to leave the room. We went outside and I put Karen at one of the windows where she could see everything in the room, but Victor couldn't see her. Using hand signals I indicated she should stand here while I was in the cabin in my Mexican persona. We moved to the open trunk where I retrieved my gardener clothes. We walked two cabins away where one of the cabin's front doors had been torn off. I was sure that we could talk out of earshot. While I was changing, I told Karen that we were going to wait for about a half hour before going back in the cabin. I told her that the psyschwar courses I took in the Rangers taught us when a subject is left without sensory input, and we have deprived Victor sight and speech, so he will imagine the worst. He can still hear, touch and smell, but his mind is running a mile a minute. He will imagine every terror even before he learns the real terror. After I had turned myself into an illegal Mexican worker, I walked in the cabin. I looked at the little table in the corner to ensure that everything I was going to use was there. Ooops, the bull whip was still in the car. I pantomimed a whip and Karen left the window and in less than a minute, I saw an arm and hand holding the whip at the door. My clever wife only showed her arm and hand in case I had slipped up and prematurely removed the bag over Victor's head. Boy, she is really into this thing. I laid the whip on the table, took a last look around, walked to the head of the table and jerked the bag off Victor's head and pulled the rubber ball out of his mouth. He started screaming nonsense about what he was going to do to me when he got loose. I let him scream for a few moments and then I put the ball back in his mouth, not gently. I wagged my finger under his nose and said loudly, "CALLA TE!" I left the room and went out to talk to Karen. We walked over to the other cabin in silence together. When we got inside I asked her, 'How do you like this so far?" She looked happily excited and her voice matched her face when she said. "I love this, Wow! You are beyond clever. Becoming a Mexican with no English. Bravo!" I walked back with her to her observation window, and we looked in. Victor's eyes were wide when he saw the contents of the room, the table secured to the floor, the 21 thread rope in position at the four corners of the table. He stared at the seemingly unrelated items on the little table in the far corner of the room, the bottled water, the electric drill, the plastic knife, and the bull whip. Karen had looked at the same items through the window, but without the stark terror on her face. We are gathered here specifically so she will never again know the terror this total asshole had caused her in the past. Victor was trying to process all of this, including the scary bull whip when he looked at me. "I know you! You're Karen's gardener" he blurted out. "Lo siento, no hablo Ingles. I said, knowing he probably had no idea what I said. OK, Jose, You don't speak English, and I only have cantina Spanish. What now? I was a little surprised he understood me, but really, it was a pretty stock phrase that most tourists know. Time to break the language barrier. I took a sheet of paper from my pocket and handed it to him. {here is the text of the paper|} =================================================================== Hello Victor. You will read the rest of this letter out loud. Jose does not understand English, but he has a tape recorder in his pocket that will record everything you say. Start Reading the rest of this note out loud. You are not going to enjoy the next few days or hours. The length of time you spend tied to this table is entirely up to you. You will understand this shortly. First, when you finish this, Jose is going to use the bull whip on you much in the same way you whipped Karen to punish her for calling you a bastard in my driveway. Let's just call it an attitude adjustment. Your vicious beating of Karen has left permanent scars on her back, so I think it is only fair that you get a few, or a lot, of scars on your back, don't you agree? After your attitude has been adjusted, we get to the main event. As Karen's loving husband I am very cross that you fucked her repeatedly over the last six months. I am so cross that I am going to assure you never fuck anyone else's wife in the future. I know you agree with me so much that you are going to separate your cock and balls from your body yourself. Either that or you are going to die an excruciating death by thirst, your choice. You see the bottled water on the table? As soon as you get free from this table you can drink all six bottles if you want. As soon as you drink your fill, I suggest you apply the dressings I so kindly have provided. The gauze pads have anti-biotic cream on them. Put the gauze over your wound and wrap the elastic bandage, also provided free of cost to you, in a way to stop the blood flow. Comprende amigo? I suggest you go down the access road to highway 168, about a half mile down that access road. Flag someone down and plead with them to take you to a medical facility before you bleed to death, Good Luck and Adios ===================================================================== I stepped forward and took the paper from Victor and replaced the ball gag. Victor was like a person in a medieval torture rack. He just looked at me and moaned around the rubber ball. I took the K-Bar and cut all of Victor's clothing from his body. I then removed his shoes and threw them in the corner. If he takes the quick route, rather than dying of thirst, he'll need the shoes to walk to the highway. Aren't I the compassionate one? I went over to the little table and picked up the bull whip. I cracked it a few times—it sounded like pistol shots (I had practiced in the back yard last week). I drew back and brought the whip down in an oblique angle so I wouldn't hit the exposed beams in the overhead. Even though Victor had the rubber ball still in his mouth he made a pretty loud noise. I noted the first lash drew blood. Ouch, that had to hurt. I drew back again and laid even a stronger lash. After the first 20 strokes Victor passed out. It was no fun to whip an unconscious man, so I decided to proceed with phase two. This is going to be a bit easier than I envisioned. I thought Victor would be conscious and struggling. I loosened the ropes and flipped him over. He moaned when his back that looked like raw hamburger hit the rough surface of the table. I pulled his legs apart and bent them at his knees. Again I pulled the rope as tight as I could and secured the ends to the bench part of the table. His genitals were exposed, and his dick was tiny. It looked like little dicky knew what was coming and was trying to crawl up in Victor's belly. As I went to the table to get what I needed, I looked at the face in the window, Karen's face showed an expression I had never seen before and hope never to see again. Her expressive face was like reading a newspaper. It looked like REVENGE written in 32 point type as a headline in that newspaper. So should it be and what is the real difference between revenge and retribution? I am pleased that Karen was watching the pain and suffering visited on the person that inflicted both on her. He was getting a full measure of both. I first laid the steel strap on the line I had drawn earlier. I actually had to loosen his leg ropes and tighten his arm ropes to correctly position his body, so the junction of his penis and scrotum was over the line I had drawn and the pilot holes I drilled yesterday. Victor was still unconscious. I reflected this may the only time Victor was not experiencing horrible pain for a long time. I pushed the strap down in the proper place and put a 3" screw through the outermost hole in the strap. With the drill in screwdriver mode and the special security bit in place, I spun the screw in about a half inch. I did the same on the other end of the strap. Victor moaned and looked like he was about to regain consciousness. The pain signals were trying to reach his comatose brain. I decided to up the ante. I screwed down a bit on each end of the strap alternating until Victor came fully awake and screamed as loud as possible with a 3" rubber ball tightly pulled into his mouth. He tried to thrash around to get away from that awful pain between his legs. I pushed the remaining two screws through the inboard holes in the strap. One just wasn't going all the way into the wood so I turned the drill around and smacked the head of the screw. Victor outdid himself, the scream was pretty loud considering the placement of the ball. I looked closer and saw why the screw was giving me trouble. A fold of Victor's scrotum had been mashed out and was under the hole. When I hit the screw it punched through the skin fold. There was surprisingly little blood. It was kind of hard to tell because there was so much blood coming from the deep slashes on his back from the bull whip.