11 comments/ 18407 views/ 4 favorites Karma Ain't Always a Bitch By: Karma Ain't Always a Bitch Vanessa loved when he did that, it seemed like he was shielding her from everything and there was nothing that could harm her. Too soon, Mark rolled to the side; he always thought he was squishing her when she would snuggle under him. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled into her neck, falling asleep like that for a nap before he had to go back to the real world. The memories faded and Mark realized he had pretty much zoned out for the trip back to the house. He assumed that the lack of blue lights in his mirrors meant he hadn't run over anyone. It had been four months, and remembering the incredible sex the morning they got underway had given him a hard-on that was running down the leg of his jeans. He glanced down and saw a wet spot where his pre-cum had soaked through. All he could think about was Vanessa wrapping her legs around him, and spending the weekend catching up for the last four months. He parked across the field behind the house so she wouldn't hear the growl of the engine, grabbed the flowers and bear, and headed to the back fence. He had just reached the back door when he heard the front door open. Sneaking around the house to surprise Vanessa, he saw the driveway full of cars and three men walking out of his house. Vanessa had finished locking up, dressed for work, and walked down the stairs to her car. Vanessa's words the last time they pulled into port were echoing in his head, "Welcome home baby, I missed you so much!" They had thrilled him then, now they curdled his stomach. She slipped into her 911 Carrera and followed the parade into town for work. He waited until everyone had gone, then went out to the separate garage to check on the last love of his life. He unlocked the door, silenced the alarm and gazed at the gleaming black '80 Z-28 that had been part of his mom's estate. He spent a few minutes thinking and collecting his thoughts, steeling himself for what he would find when he went in the house that accompanied the car after his mother's death. With a feeling that the two Z's were the only family left to him, he started the trek to his back door and what would likely be the end of his life with Vanessa. He saw the flowers and the teddy bear sitting on the steps where he left them what seemed hours ago, it had really been a little less than 10 minutes. He took a deep breath to steady his shaking hands, disabled the alarm and opened the door to a nightmare. The first thing that hit him was the smell of sex. He walked through the remnants of a party in the kitchen to the den. There were bottles of lube on piles of towels that were next to the couch, chairs and even the coffee table. A pile of used ones were in the middle of the room like they were ready for the washer. Stepping around the mess, his rage growing hotter by the second, he went through to the hall that would take him to the bedrooms. Stopping at the guest bedroom door, he saw that there were piles of clothes on the bed and floor. In his dulled state it took a minute to figure out that it was his stuff, that used to be in his bedroom. He stood, mind occupied with happier times when he had been a kid and this was really his bedroom. That only lasted an instant until the sound of remembered gunshots shattered his pretense at calm in the hurricane of emotions. Dreading what he would see, he turned and walked into his bedroom. If there were any doubts, they evaporated when he took in the carnage around him. The sheet and blankets for the king size bed were all thrown against the wall and there were cum stains littering the fitted, crimson satin sheet, some still wet. The room smelled like a whorehouse and there were at least a dozen dildos and vibrators strewn about. Just out of curiosity Mark glanced in the closet and saw that all of his clothes had been replaced by things that were obviously Vanessa's live-in's stuff. Mark had noticed a glow in the office when he passed through the den on the way to the master bedroom and backtracked to investigate. Opening up the desktops on each of the computers on the desk, Mark started digging. About thirty minutes later he had two folders open and what he saw horrified him. The laptop was full of still photos of Vanessa in various stages of sex with a number of people. The worst was one of her with five men, a cock in her mouth, ass, pussy and each hand. It was date stamped shortly after midnight so it was probable that the men in the picture were in that group he saw leaving. Mark noticed that all of the men had wedding rings and with that in mind copied all of the files onto a thumb drive. The desktop computer was worse. That's where they had stored the movies the stills had come from. Mark was shocked to see some from as far back as six months ago and even a few from when he was just gone overnight for a duty day. Some sick, twisted curiosity pulled at him and he opened the latest movie. She was jerking the two cocks in her hands and all three of the men using her body were ramming into her, the one using her mouth brutally fucking her throat using her hair for leverage. Vanessa started quaking as she started cumming, setting off the men one at a time. They all pulled away and jerked their loads onto what he had thought was his faithful, loving wife. When they were done, she was covered in cum and her ass and pussy were gaping open. All of the guys were high fiving and talking about what a great fuck she always was. The video ended with a close-up of her cum covered face. The videos were too big too copy, so he did the next best thing. He shut the computer down and took the hard drive out. What was left he threw in the fireplace followed closely by the laptop. Mark looked for an untainted spot to sit, but ended up on the back step with his head in his hands trying to calm his simmering rage, the video kept looping through his mind, driving him closer to the edge of restraint. He had to start moving or he would end up in jail, soon. He changed the alarm codes and the keywords that would satisfy the monitoring company. Next was his attorney Scott, another childhood friend, who agreed to meet him at the house in an hour and begged him to not do something rash. The last call was to Amy. "Amy, I need Jack," his voice flat. "He went to the cabin, what's wrong? Mark? Mark, dammit, answer me! Where are you and what's going on?" "I'm in the garage and every fucking thing is wrong," all of the pain and desperation seeping through. "I'll be there in five minutes, no make that three...you stay where you are. Promise me Mark," she insisted. She had a strong protective side, and had it in spades when Mark was involved. He may have towered over her 5'3" frame but that made no difference to her. "Whatever," was all she got in reply. Amy threw the phone down and was in her truck before Mark could end the call. Just under two minutes later he heard the rumble of her truck as it barreled across the field behind the house. Anyone watching would have thought that she was going to drive through the fence. She slid to a stop next to it, opened the door and jumped from the truck, over the fence into the backyard, running to the garage and tearing the door open. Mark was sitting against the front tire of his mom's car, knees pulled tight and rocking side to side. She had only seen him like this twice, and that had led to his ownership of the car he was anchoring himself to as well as the one she saw when she pulled up. "Mark, what's wrong? Is it Vanessa? Where is she?" With that he looked up at her and she recognized the face but his eyes were glazed over and filled with something that scared her with the intensity they held. He didn't say anything, settling for pointing at his laptop. "Give me your keys, both sets. Mark. Car keys, NOW!" Numbly Mark handed over both sets and watched Amy walk to the laptop. When she moved the mouse, the picture of Vanessa and her five friends was displayed in all its gory details. The 42" monitor making it almost life size. After a loud gasp and a wide eyed look at Mark, "I'm going to kill that fucking whore. Where is she?" Amy snarled, and headed for the door. She ran face first into Mark's chest, and while not as solid as her brother, he was still solid enough to make her stumble and grab her nose. "Move Mark, I've got a slut to strangle!" Amy growled and did her best to escape his arms. They were still doing their best big time wrestling impersonation when Scott walked in. After not getting an answer at the house he circled the house, heading to the garage when the swing was empty. "Umm, I'm not interrupting anything am I? "Just me getting my hands around that cunt's throat," Amy spat, and pointed to the monitor. Mark hadn't moved or done anything other than grabbing Amy, but he'd had all he could take and buried his head in Amy's hair and broke down. He sank to the floor pulling her with him and did his best to curl up in her lap, crying like a baby. All Amy could do was hold him as his shock and anger ran its course. Mark was calming down and glanced at the monitor, starting fresh again. Any glanced at Scott, who hurriedly switched the monitor off. He had seen enough to have an idea what Mark wanted though. To protect the inheritance in the aftermath of losing his mom, Amy and Jack had adamantly insisted on a pre-nup agreement when Mark and Vanessa married. The only thing they needed to do now was keep him from doing something stupid. "I saw her leaving with them this morning," Mark croaked and pushed up to his knees, Amy hovering at his side. "Once I got the thumb drive and the hard drive, I kind of shut down and ended up out here." With that he headed toward the house with the others in tow. When the trio reached the den Mark turned, "Scott, can you get the locks changed for me and I want to know who those guys are. They all looked like they had wedding rings and I think their wives deserve to find out just what they're doing. As for 'her', she'll get her clothes and what she came in with. If you can get the papers ready to sign, I'd really appreciate it." There was only cold anger; the grief would be back later. "Thanks Scott, leave the front door lock for later. Amy, come with me please." Mark was clearly back in "boat mode" where he told people what to do, and they didn't question. Scott went to make phone calls and Amy trailed in Marks wake. Their first stop was the shed where Mark handed her some gloves and trash bags while he brought a rake and a snow shovel. Curious, Amy watched as everything that Vanessa owned or had soiled went into the trash bags and were unceremoniously thrown into the attached garage. "Hold this for me please," Mark asked, handing her a new bag, as he took the sheets and blankets that were still sticky and added some of Vanessa's designer label clothes. He knotted the bag and shook it to make sure everything had an even coating of the leftovers of her playtime. All of her make-up, perfume, and toiletries went in the bag with the pile of towels, and with an evil grin he handed her Vanessa's toothbrush to add the finishing touch. The last thing on the list was airing out the stench to purge the remainder of the nightmare from the house. Once everything was "Vanessa free", as Mark so aptly described, he disabled the garage door opener, leaving the front door the only way she could get in. It was only noon, but Mark felt like it had been at least two days. Needing a break and not caring about tradition, Mark and Amy found themselves in the tree swing hanging from the old oak tree in the backyard, a six-pack sitting between them. Neither said anything, just drinking with their thoughts. Mark broke the silence, "I need to do something and I need you to trust me. I'm not asking for you to help or even approve, but I need to do this," he said while watching a hawk soaring effortlessly on the summer breeze. Amy stared at him for a time trying to figure out what he was saying," I'm not going to let you end up in jail; you can't ask me for that. Anything short of that, I'll accept," she responded. Mark wasn't so sure, but he laid his plans out for the evening to her nonetheless. Her eyes got big, and she objected to a couple of things, but didn't say anything else. The two friends sat and played the "cloud game", where you name the clouds and whoever had the most outrageous thing that could be verified won, until Scott made it back. He brought a copy of the pre-nup for Mark to review and was filled in on what Mark had planned. With the exception of a worried frown, he voiced no objections and agreed to his part.