Rape

It took me twenty-three days to figure out what I wanted to do. After driving for most of three days, I bought camping supplies and hiked to a remote campsite. I spent almost all of my time away from other people. I watched a lot of sunrises and sunsets. I sat up at night and watched the stars. I sat in my tent when it rained. Through it all I thought about what I was feeling. It didn’t make me feel proud.

Although I had limited sexual experience before I met Jeannie, I was still the one in our relationship who was the expert, the one who knew how it was done and how it was not done. I’d had terrible sex and I’d had hot sex. Jeannie had only had sex with me, and that gave me security. I knew I wasn’t the world’s greatest cocksman, but she had never had any reason to think otherwise. Until now.

Knowing that Jeannie had experienced better sex than I had ever given her sliced the center out of my sense of myself as a man. Knowing she had done things that I had never done made me like the sexual rookie in our relationship. My self- confidence couldn’t handle it. I was afraid that she’d never be satisfied with my penis again, and when I didn’t give her the satisfaction she had learned she could get during sex, she would get it from somebody else. Like Paul. Or like Jack with his huge dick.

Once I realized how pathetic this all seemed, I began to laugh at myself. And then I began to heal. I realized how much I missed the love that Jeannie and I had once shared. That love was more than sex, even though sex was a part of it, too. And I loved my daughters, and I really missed them, too. How could I abandon them? How could I go on living without being a father to them?

Then I thought about everything that had happened. Even in my state of mind, I could see that Jeannie really hadn’t had a choice, particularly once things reached a certain point. If I had been a supportive husband - even after Paul had drugged her - things would never have gone so far. It wasn’t entirely her fault. My ego was damaged because she had learned to enjoy what she had been forced to endure.

On night twenty-one, I tested myself. I took out the manilla envelope and I removed the sets of pictures. One by one I threw them into my campfire, face down, without looking at them. Finally I threw the plastic bag with Jeannie’s cum-stained panties into the fire. There was no physical evidence for me to use in a divorce case. There was nothing to remind me about our nightmare. All I had to do was learn to cope with being Jeannie’s husband, even if I wasn’t the only man who had rung her bell. Even if I wasn’t the best bell-wringer she had known. Even if she knew more about sex than I did.

I remembered burning her pantyhose at the party, and I began to cry. I didn’t know if she would allow me back into her life and the lives of our daughters. I had been extremely close to killing her several times. Could she forgive me that, even if I knew I could probably forgive her for fucking Jack and Paul?

After driving two twenty-hour days, I pulled into my driveway and parked my car next to Jeannie’s car. I left everything in the car in case I wouldn’t be welcome, and I walked up and rang the bell. Jeannie opened the door and stared at me with her mouth wide open. I was so overwhelmed with emotions that I couldn’t speak.

“Thank God you came back! I can’t imagine how much I’ve hurt you, Jim. You can do anything you want to me. Even kill me. But please don’t hurt our girls! Not any more! They really missed their father. So did I.”

Jeannie had misread the expression on my face. I grabbed her and I kissed her, the first real affection I had shown her in several months. Her response was immediate and passionate. I went inside with her and we clung to each other. Both of us were crying. “God, Jeannie! I’m so sorry! I don’t even know what we were fighting about! Was it my fault? If I hadn’t driven you away, this would never have happened!”

“I don’t remember what we were fighting about either! But if I had been willing to give a little, I would never have talked to Paul. This isn’t your fault, Jim, it was mine!”

For another half hour we kissed while each of us tried to take the blame for Jeannie’s terrible ordeal. We were staring into each other’s eyes when we realized that neither of us was entirely to blame, and we stopped talking. Our kisses evolved into erotic touches, and we made loud, frantic, passionate love on the rug in the living room. My climax was so strong it felt like my penis was burning with each shot of cum. Jeannie’s entire body jerked and shook as she came. Yes, she screamed, too. A few minutes later we did it again.

We rolled around on the rug until it was almost time for Jennifer to come home on the school bus. Jeannie got dressed and walked over to get Lizzie. The girls didn’t recognize me at first. Once I shaved the three weeks of stubble from my face, they accepted me back into their lives. That night at dinner Jeannie and I smiled at each other. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. The girls kept interrupting each other to tell me all the things I’d missed by being away. I was a father again. And a husband.

I thought I’d experienced a nightmare, but what Jeannie had endured was far worse. I told her so and we held each other that night. We didn’t make love, but we were intimate in every other way possible. It was strange, but for the first time since the party, we knew there was a real chance that we could save our marriage. At least we would try to put this terrible ordeal behind us, even though we knew it would be the most difficult task we’d ever attempted. We both felt it was worth the effort.

Two days later I went back to work, much to the relief of my coworkers who had barely managed to keep up without me. Life quickly returned to normal, and Jeannie and I devoted ourselves to rebuilding the love we had once felt for each other. The embers were there, but the fire had been mostly snuffed out. We didn’t know if we could do it, but we tried.

There were some incredibly difficult problems for us to solve. Jeannie would remember the way I’d humiliated her by turning her into a twice-a-day cocksucker, and she would be unable to get excited enough to climax. I would remember seeing her lying in bed with Paul between her legs, and I would feel my erection fade away. I tried to go down on her, and I found I couldn’t. I kept thinking about Jack’s huge penis having ejaculated inside her, and I couldn’t put my mouth there. Jeannie felt overwhelming guilt because she had enjoyed having sex with Paul and Jack. She also felt guilt about telling me that she had experienced powerful orgasms with both of them.

Then there were Jeannie’s nightmares as she remembered Paul raping her - and her experience on the machine. Several times she woke me as she screamed. Neither of us could go back to sleep after these episodes, and I would hold her like a little girl as she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.

We talked about getting professional help, but neither of us trusted marriage counselors. So we struggled on, rarely ever achieving satisfactory sex, but sometimes putting our demons to rest long enough to recapture a few moments of our previous love. I kept wondering what would happen to our marriage if Jeannie realized that she needed the sort of stimulation that only a large penis could give her. Would she seek out other men who were better endowed than I was? We couldn’t find any way for me to restore my sexual self-esteem.

After eight months of this nightmare, I almost couldn’t handle any more, and neither could Jeannie. Our sexual failures were so much more frequent than our successes that we were beginning to avoid sex entirely. We had slowed to having sex about once a month. It was not as good as masturbation for either of us. We were talking about how to divide our property if we got divorced. Then an article appeared on the front page of our local paper and we were galvanized to put our efforts into something else.

TIME TO TAKE ACTION

The headline announced: “Local Realtor Chosen as Man of the Year.” The story went on to describe how Paul Keener had been selected by the local Chamber of Commerce for this special honor. The accompanying photograph showed a smiling Paul with his arm around his beaming wife. They had two children from his wife’s previous marriage. Paul was described as a “real family men” and a “man who is fair and honest in his dealings with everyone. A selfless man who makes our town a better place to live in.”

Jeannie saw the article first, and she immediately handed it to me. “Read this piece of fiction!” She demanded. She sat back and waited for me to finish the article. When I looked up, she said, “We’ve got to destroy this monster! I can’t believe how much hate I feel for him! We’ve got to find a way to show this town what he really is!”

We had always heard - and believed - that people seeking revenge always end up destroying important parts of themselves in the process. It came as a complete surprise to both of us that we were once again able to enjoy sex with each other as soon as we decided to avenge ourselves on Paul. Almost certainly we were trading one set of demons for another.

Our new demons allowed us to enjoy our most passionate sex since the unforgettable party. Just thinking about getting even was getting us hot! The night Paul was honored we weren’t in the mood. We tossed and turned, each of us lost in our individual thoughts and bad memories of him. We plotted and planned.

Our terrible anger fueled our excitement, and two weeks after Paul became “Man of the Year,” we were ready to begin. While we waited for out day of revenge to arrive, we made love morning and night.

TAKING CONTROL OF PAUL

I drove several hundred miles to another state and purchased a stun gun. For less than $30 I bought one that was about six inches high, used two standard nine-volt batteries, and delivered 300,000 from it’s two electrodes. It was not one of those that shoots tiny darts. This one had to be placed directly against the skin of the person being shocked.

I read the directions, inserted the batteries, and finally talked Jeannie into testing it on me. When she touched my biceps with the electrodes, I felt an abrupt jolt. It only hurt for a moment, but I lost control of all of my muscles. I was completely helpless for about fifteen seconds. The electrodes left two little red burn marks on my arm, but otherwise I was completely normal within five minutes. The way I went limp frightened Jeannie so much that she was afraid to test it on me again.

Jeannie’s parents were happy to keep our girls for a few days, and we completed our preparations. She put the stun gun and our other supplies in a large purse, and we drove both our cars to the neighborhood where Paul had his apartment. Our vengeance was at hand.

I sat in a car across the street from the apartment. I was pretending to sleep, and my eyes were just barely above the level of the bottom of the car window. Jeannie had parked her car around the corner. We kept in touch by talking in code using inexpensive walkie-talkies. She saw Paul’s car coming. I heard “Arriving,” through the tinny speaker of the radio.

Paul didn’t even glance around. He parked his car at a vacant space about fifty feet from the front door of the apartment building, hopped out of his car, and walked quickly to the front door. I could hear him whistling, obviously in anticipation of getting some tail. He had his key out, and he unlocked the door and went inside. I said, “Inside.” into the radio. I saw a light come on in Paul’s apartment thirty seconds after Jeannie acknowledged my transmission with “Okay.”

Now we had to wait for Paul’s victim to arrive. Every time a woman approached the building I said the name of a bird into the radio. Each time Jeannie would slip out of her car, move toward the door, and wait for my signal. I had gone through “Robin,” “Wren,” and “Sparrow” but they had all been false alarms. Each used a key to get in, so they apparently lived in the building.

I had a sudden sickening thought. What if Paul gave each of his woman a key? Maybe he was planning to give one to Jeannie but I had broken things up before he could do so? If that was the case, our plans were completely screwed.

I fretted about this possibility for another five minutes. Another woman approached the building and I said, “Dove.” Into the radio. I saw Jeannie approaching the door. The woman reached up and pushed a button. I had the binoculars against my eyes, and I could easily see that the button was Paul’s. I touched the horn and gave a short beep to signal Jeannie. The woman said something into the little speaker/microphone, and she pushed against the door.

I got out of my car and crossed the street. Even from twenty feet away I could hear the buzz as Paul released the lock from his apartment. The woman opened the door and moved inside. Jeannie stepped up and stopped it from closing. “My husband’s coming. Would you please hold the elevator? Thanks!” I thought her voice sounded suspiciously tense, but the woman did as she was asked.

I closed the door and Jeannie and I crossed the lobby and got into the elevator. The “woman” was a child! I held the elevator door so it wouldn’t close. The security desk was empty once again, and there was nobody else around.

“How old are you, honey?” Jeannie whispered. The girl looked back and forth between Jeannie and me. She was starting to get scared with the two of us standing there. We were tense, too, and I could smell my own sweat.

“Wh . . . Whazit to you?” The girl muttered. Then she tried to lunge past me to and get out of the elevator. I grabbed her arm and threw her back inside. Her face was white with fear, and I knew she was about to scream.

Jeannie grabbed her arms and whirled her around. “I asked you a question! Tell us how old you are and we’ll let you go!”

“Ay . . . Eighteen!” The girl whispered. She was probably still in high school!

“There’s been a screw-up, okay? I’m doing Paul today. You come back in two weeks. Now beat it!” Jeannie was tense, and her voice sounded really strange.

But it worked. The girl slipped past me, almost ran across the lobby, and then she was out of the door and gone. Jeannie let out a loud breath.

We slipped thin latex gloves onto our hands. I used my handkerchief to wipe everything we had touched. I released the door and Jeannie pushed the button for the eighth floor. The doors closed, and the old elevator rattled its way upward. A muted ding announced its arrival on the correct floor.

Jeannie walked over to Paul’s apartment, knocked on the door, then turned around so that Paul would only see her from the back. I was worried because her wig was not the same color as the girl’s hair had been. I stood flat against the wall about a yard from the door.

Paul cracked open the door, then opened it wider. I could see he was barefoot and wearing a thin robe. “Hey, did you do something to your hair? You look different and . . . ”

I moved past Jeannie and pushed Paul back inside his apartment. I held my gun against his cheek. “What the fuck? Look, you can’t get away with . . .”

I pulled the gun away from his face as Jeannie came up behind Paul and pressed the Stun gun against the back of his neck. He jerked a couple of times, and when Jeannie pulled the Stun gun away, he collapsed to the floor.

He was breathing, but he couldn’t control his arms and legs. He struggled to speak, but he only made inarticulate sounds. Jeannie dumped the contents of her purse onto the floor. I grabbed a handful of self-locking plastic ties and watched a roll of duct tape roll halfway across the room. I rolled Paul onto his face and began putting ties on around his wrists. His arms were soon secured behind him.

By the time Paul could speak, we had his hands and feet secured with several plastic ties. He struggled to free himself, so we knew the effects of the Stun gun had worn off. I leaned down and looked into his face. I saw his eyes change as he recognized me.

Then he looked at Jeannie and shook his head. “I have no idea what you two are trying to pull off, but it isn’t going to work. You might as well cut me loose. The longer you keep me tied up, the worse it’s going to go for you. I’m not a forgiving person, and I’m already really pissed. You musta chased Cindy off, so I’ll have to fuck you, Jeannie. With your asshole husband watching. So cut me loose and let’s get to it and stop this circus. I’ll show him how you like to be fucked.”

I kicked Paul in the side of his chest as hard as I could, He groaned and rolled onto his side. With his hands tied behind him, he really couldn’t move very well. He recovered quickly. “Well fuck this shit! I’m gonna get loose and when I do I’ll fuck you in the ass while she watches and then . . . ”

Jeannie cut off Paul’s threat by jabbing the Stun gun against his chest. She held it longer than she had before. When she pulled it away, he struggled to get air into his lungs. Obviously he couldn’t breathe while it was shocking him.

I left Jeannie standing over Paul. I wanted to see if his safe was open. It wasn’t. We’d expected this, and I returned to the front room to let her know. She was leaning over him, and it was obvious from his gasping breaths that she’d shocked him again.

“He called me . . . something vile. So I gave him another hit.” I was afraid that Jeannie was getting a little too eager to hit Paul with the Stun gun.

I stared down at Paul as he struggled to breathe. He recovered and took a couple of long, deep breaths. “What’s the combination to the safe?” I asked.

Paul just laughed. “That’s my own little pussy gold mine! Ain’t no way you’re gonna get inside it.” This, too, is what we had expected. I had a little speech prepared.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to drag you back to the room with the safe in it. If you try to fight, if you try to kick, if you do anything to make problems for me, Jeannie will jolt you with the Stun gun. One way or the other we’re going to get you back there. Hard or easy, it’s up to you.”

Paul glared at me and somehow managed to spit on the floor. “Fuck you! You don’t have any idea who you’re messing with. You’re gonna pay for this shit. But go ahead. Drag me around. I don’t want any more of that electric crap.”

It took me longer than I had expected, and I was hot and sweaty when Paul was finally lying on the floor in front of the safe. The only effective way I found to move him was to grab him under his arms and drag him on his side. I could only move him a couple of feet at a time. He made no effort to resist, but he laughed at the trouble I had. Paul laughed again when I asked him for the combination. I loosened the belt of his robe, and I pulled his silk boxers down to his ankles. “Hey! What the fuck? You gay or something?” He tried to kick me, so I hit him as hard as I could in his groin. He groaned and doubled up as best he could.

I left Jeannie kneeling over him with the Stun gun, and I went to the closet. There were only a few things hanging up, and I dumped them onto the floor. I removed the five-foot-long piece of wooden closet rod and used duct tape to fasten Paul’s ankles near each end of the rod. I had to cut the ties off his ankles to do this, but Jeannie held the stun gun an inch from his balls, and he didn’t struggle as I pulled his shorts off and taped him to the closet rod. His legs were wide apart, and his penis and balls were now completely exposed.
This man had fucked my wife. And she’d enjoyed it. Of course I checked out his equipment. His balls were almost twice the size of mine, which wasn’t a particularly good omen as far as my ego was concerned. But his flaccid penis was just that. Flaccid.

Paul obviously wasn’t impressed that I’d tied him down like this. Jeannie and I had thought that doing this might convince him that we were serious. Once again I asked him for the combination and once again he laughed. He didn’t believe that we were really prepared to hurt him.

Jeannie got down on her knees and stared at Paul’s genitals. We wanted him to be erect, and we knew she could stimulate him. She reached out with one gloved hand and began to fondle his balls. Within seconds he was getting hard. “Can’t stay away from it, can you Jeannie? Did you tell him how you yelled and squealed again and again as you rode my stiff pole? Did you tell him how it felt when I shot my wad deeper inside you than he had ever gone? Did you . . .”

Paul shut up when Jeannie wrapped one of the plastic ties in a triple loop around the root of his penis and balls, right where his genitals came out of his body. She pulled on the strap through the one-way lock until it was firm but not too tight. She stoked his half-erect penis and it began to stiffen even more. “Paul can’t stay erect for very long. He has to use a cock ring. This is a bit lower, but it should work the same. And I’ll bet it doesn’t feel as good,” she said. I had been surprised when she’d told me about the Paul’s cock ring, even though I’d seen it in several of the pictures. I simply hadn’t known what it was.

Jeannie’s touch rapidly brought Paul’s penis to full erection. Jeannie hadn’t quite told me the truth. His penis was an inch longer than mine and a little thicker. She slowly tightened the tie. It bit into his skin and he cursed. She released her hold on the tie, and his penis stayed erect. More blood was flowing into his penis than was flowing out, and the skin on his erection was stretched until it was shiny. The head of his penis was dark red, bulging and swollen.

Jeannie spat on Paul’s face. “You pig! Yes, I had orgasms and I screamed when you fucked me! You tortured me on that machine and I had no choice. But now I’m going to make YOU scream. Unless you tell us the combination to the safe.”

“Fuck no, you stupid cunt! As good as you are, Jack and I decided it wasn’t worth the trouble to keep you as a fuck toy when limp-dick here took your pictures back. Well, now you’re goin’ into the stable, bitch! I’m going to . . . ”

What I did next wasn’t part of our plan, but Paul’s comments had really triggered angry memories about what he’d done to Jeannie. I picked up the stun gun and pressed it against the head of his penis. His face turned white and he arched his back. The stun gun made a faint humming sound and an occasional crackle. None of us was breathing, Paul because he couldn’t. I was puzzled by his comment about a stable, but I ignored it as I watched his body tremble. I gave him a long jolt.

Paul’s eyes were bulging when I finally pulled the Stun gun away from his penis. He moaned, then gradually caught his breath. He looked at Jeannie. “I’ve got . . . one of those toys . . . too. And . . . I’m going to use it . . . on your husband’s prick . . . while I fuck you . . . in front of him.”

Paul took several long, deep breaths. “Jack and I’ll fuck you for two or three days to break you in. And we’ll use our new equipment to make a video of you screaming your ass off while we fuck you. Then you can join our stable.” Stable? Of prostitutes? That made sense. And this was the first I’d heard about videos.

I nodded to Jeannie, and she left the room. I couldn’t help looking at Paul’s erection. I could see two bright red marks that the stun gun had made. He was still defiant. “Take a good look at it. Jeannie loved having me put it in her. She screamed and screamed and begged for more. She couldn’t get enough. She would cum and cum until she passed out. I’ve never had such a hot fuck before. And when I get loose I’m going to make her beg for it again while you watch. You’re never going to satisfy her again. Ever.”

Paul’s comments were digging into my psyche, and they hurt. But I kept thinking about what we planned to do to him, and I managed to smile. I could see the confusion on his face when I did so.

Jeannie came back in with a gallon jug of water. When Paul refused to drink it, I pinched his nose shut while Jeannie poured water through his lips. He fought us, and Jeannie had to make two more trips for water, but we finally got him to swallow most of a gallon. There was probably twice that much soaking into his robe and making a puddle on the floor.

“What the fuck are you two doing? Water isn’t going to hurt me! But I think I’ll have to piss on you in a couple of minutes. It’ll serve you right.”

THE DESCENT INTO HELL

I looked at Jeannie. “It’s time. Did you get the gag from the other room?”

Jeannie pulled the ball-gag from behind her back. “Remember this, Paul? You stuffed it into my mouth when you forced me to endure that machine. Well, now it’s my turn.”

Paul kept his jaw clenched tightly closed, so I grabbed his balls and gave them a firm squeeze. Jeannie forced the gag into his mouth when he groaned. She fastened the strap behind his head. Paul was really agitated and he was probably trying to curse, but we couldn’t understand anything he said.

I lifted Paul’s balls and got a firm grip on the end of the plastic tie with one hand. With the other I held the one-way locking fixture. I waited until he was looking at what I as doing. When I had his full attention, I pulled on the plastic tie as hard as I could. As I tightened the tie, it almost disappeared into the skin at the root of his genitals.

Paul made a high-pitched squeal through the gag. He gasped for breath through his nose. He jerked and pulled at the ties holding his wrists and ankles. I waited for him to calm down. When he did, Jeannie spat on his chest, then left the room. I timed two minutes with my watch before I spoke.

“In case you don’t understand what I’ve done, let me explain it to you. If we leave you like this, you’re going to die. Slowly and painfully.” Sweat had popped out on Paul’s forehead, but he still looked angry and defiant.

“The cable tie has cut off the blood to your cock and balls. Do you know what ‘necrosis’ is? It’s what happens to an organ when the blood is cut off. It immediately begins to die. Eventually gangrene sets in. Everything that makes you a man has been dying for just over four minutes.

“You can even watch yourself become a eunuch, Paul. You’ll see the skin turn blue, then get darker. You’ll end up with a black dick. And balls.” Paul’s eyes now looked worried. He was staring at his bulging penis. Jeannie came back into the room and grinned at him. Her look frightened him more than my words.

“Once everything dies, the only way to save your life and keep you from getting gangrene - which would certainly kill you - is to cut everything off. Your dead prick and balls. No more fucking. Ever.

“But that’s not the only problem you have. The cable tie has clamped down on your penis so hard that you can’t piss. Your full bladder will swell up. That will really hurt, but that alone won’t kill you. But after several hours your kidneys will shut down when they can’t get rid of the urine they produce. Then they’ll start to die, too.

“We don’t really know how long it will take, but probably in a few hours you’ll be screaming into that gag from unbelievable pain, knowing that your nuts and prick are completely dead, knowing that you are no longer a man. A few hours later kidney failure will slowly poison your body, and other organs will start to die. I doubt a hospital could save you then. The pain will gradually get worse and worse. And you’ll know that nobody could save you. I’ll be you go completely insane from the pain before you die.”

“Jim, it’s already working! His penis is getting dark and his scrotum is turning blue!” The look in Paul’s eyes was pure horror.

I reached down and gave Paul’s balls a gentle squeeze. He flinched, but that was all. “That should have made you pass out. But you could barely feel it. Jeanie’s right. Your nuts are dying. And your prick, too. Jeannie wants to stay here and watch your face until the moment you finally know that the only sex you’ll get is when somebody fucks you in the ass. Whadya think, Jeannie? Another half hour? Hour at the most?”

Paul flopped around on the floor but he couldn’t get loose. I could hear him moaning through the gag. His penis really was getting darker by the minute.

“Here’s our one-time deal, Paul. If you agree to tell us everything we want to know, starting with the combination to the safe, I’ll cut the tie off. Maybe there has only been a little damage, and maybe you can recover fully. But if you don’t take the deal, Jeannie and I will just sit here until we know that you will never fuck anyone again. Then we’ll leave you here to die, probably after a couple of days when your kidneys fail.”

Paul was staring at me in obvious pain. “If you agree to talk, nod your head. Otherwise . . . Well, in a few minutes you won’t be a man anymore.”

Paul stared at me and violently nodded his head. “Good choice, Paul. Now be still. It would be a shame to have me cut off your balls while I was saving them, wouldn’t it?”

I carefully cut through the tie with a razor knife. The cable tie sprang loose. The sudden pain as blood began flowing again must have been unbelievably bad. Paul made a terrible sound into the gag and passed out. A steady flow of piss dribbled out of his penis. His erection began to go down as blood flow resumed.

Jeannie removed the gag from Paul’s mouth. In a few seconds he groaned, then blinked his eyes. He opened them and looked down at his flaccid penis. The flow of urine stopped. “God! It really hurts! And everything’s still blue, you bastard!”

“At least you know the nerves aren’t completely dead. You’ll probably recover, eventually. But that was only a few minutes. Think about what would happen if we left the tie on for, say, a couple of hours. Bye, bye balls. Bye, bye penis. Then a few really painful hours later, bye, bye Paul.” Jeannie laughed. Paul’s face was deathly pale. I was really enjoying this. I was even getting erect.

“Right now I want the combination. If it doesn’t work, we’re putting another cable tie back on. So? What is it?”

Paul slowly spoke a series of numbers which I wrote down. The combination worked, and I opened the safe. I pulled out a pile of envelopes. It was almost time to get out of this place.

COMPLETING THE PLAN FOR VENGEANCE

We left Paul in the room with the safe, and we made two trips carrying the bulky envelopes into the front room of the apartment. There were thirty-three with first names and a variety of crude comments written on them. They were numbered from one to thirty-four, with Jeannie’s number three missing. There were five other envelopes which were much thicker than the others. We saw what was written on them and decided to save them for last. A small ledger fell out of somewhere, and I put it on top of the five thick envelopes. We looked at pictures in each envelope to see which women we recognized. Jeannie gasped, then handed me the one she was holding from envelope Number 2. It showed Jennifer’s first-grade teacher fucking Jack. “She has four kids!” Jeannie whispered. Seeing this woman was an interesting coincidence. I’d never told Jeannie that I’d hallucinated and imagined I’d seen Jennifer’s teacher at the orgy.

I found the pictures of Cindy, the girl we’d encountered in the lobby. She was number twenty-four. Amid the fuck-shots, there were several up-skirt poses of her wearing a cheerleader’s uniform from one of the local high schools. Jeannie found pictures of another girl about the same age as Cindy. She was wearing a similar uniform from another school. “This was hard enough for me!” Jeannie wailed. “But these girls are so YOUNG!” She began to cry.

We recognized three other women in the group of thirty-three. One was the wife of a local minister. The other two were the wives of men with whom I did business. Jeannie and I had eaten at both of their homes.

We separated the women into two groups. Slightly more than half had first been fucked by Paul, the rest by Jack. I felt a terrible, hot rage well up inside me. “I want to kill him!” I whispered. But the worst was yet to come.

Two of the women were shown on the fucking machine, just as Jeannie had been. All but the two women numbered thirty-three and thirty-four had been fucked by both Jack and Paul, and in every case both men had also fucked them at the same time.

As the numbers went higher, the number of apartment visits and thus the number of sets of pictures diminished. The envelope for Number 34 contained only one set of pictures. But it also contained something new - a video. This woman was young, perhaps twenty. The pictures were clearly the ones taken while the woman was drugged and unconscious. Perhaps she hadn’t been back for her second visit yet. But what was on the video?

Jeannie and I found a video player and TV in the front room, and we played the tape. It was dated from the previous day, and we saw that yes, Number 34 had definitely had her second visit to the apartment. The tape was graphic, clear, and it had good sound quality. I remarked that the camera must have been on a tripod, and Jeannie said that she had seen it when she had gotten the jugs of water. Obviously that was the new video equipment that Paul had mentioned earlier.

The first scene showed Paul and Number 34 lying naked on the bed. He told her that he was going to fuck her until she screamed with pleasure. She told him that nobody else except her boyfriend had ever had sex with her, and she wasn’t going to enjoy sex with an old guy like him. When he tried to rub her breasts, she stopped him and said, “Just do it. Get it over with so I can go home.” She screamed in obvious pain when he angrily forced his penis inside her. When he finished she lay on the bed, crying. As her tears flowed, Paul loosened his cock ring and wiped his sticky, flaccid penis on her cheek. He told her to suck it. She just lay on her back and didn’t respond.

Then the camera abruptly moved. Number 34 looked toward it and screamed. Paul took the camera, and he panned until we could see Jack’s big penis almost touching her face. She adamantly refused to give him a blowjob, and she said she wasn’t going to allow herself to be filmed having sex with anyone else. Paul put the camera back on the tripod. She sat up on the bed and said she was going to go to home and never come back. “If anybody ever sees those pictures, I’ll go to the police! You raped me! Twice!”

Jack forced the ball-gag into her mouth. Paul pinned her to the bed and held her arms as she kicked and struggled. Jack spread her legs apart and held her feet against the bed. We watched Jack rape her as she shrieked, again and again, the sound muffled by the gag. Jeannie had to look away. “It was painful for me at first, and I’ve had two babies! I can’t imagine how she could relax enough to not feel terrible pain.”

When Jack pulled out, her vagina squeezed out a bubbly white mess. They rolled her onto her stomach, and Jack held her down while Paul raped her in the anus. Once again we could hear the shrill squeaks as she screamed, over and over. Then Jack said it was time to train her to be good by punishing her with the power-fuck.

The scene suddenly changed, and Paul and Jack were forcing Number 34 onto the fucking machine. Her moans through the gag were pitiful, but they just laughed as they tied her hands to the wall. When the machine first began its motions, she was in obvious pain. But after about ten minutes, her eyes closed and her body shook in a powerful orgasm. She had another every few minutes. I used the fast-forward for a couple of minutes, then started to play the tape again when I saw them untying her. The tape ended with a closeup of her lying in a limp mound on the floor as her own urine made a slowly spreading puddle around her legs. In the background Jack could be heard talking. “Next time she’ll fuck us and enjoy it. She lasted four hours on the power-fuck.” He laughed. “At least this one didn’t crap herself! Shit, she enjoyed it so much I’ll bet she’ll beg us to put her on it to her again!”

Jeannie had told me about her experience on the machine, and I had seen photographs of several women on it. But I was still unprepared for the video. My hands were trembling when I looked at the remaining five envelopes. They were labeled “Mare 1″ through “Mare 5.” I recalled Paul’s threat to put Jeannie in his stable, and my hands were sweating inside my vinyl gloves as I opened the first envelope.

It took me several seconds to completely understand what we were looking at. A woman we had seen in earlier pictures was apparently being fucked by a group of men, including Paul and Jack. There were eight other men, and the photos chronicled the woman being used as a sex object by them all, repeatedly. In her mouth, in her cunt, and in her anus. In the final pose she was lying naked on her back, legs wide apart, her entire body clearly covered with cum. Jacks’s penis looked gigantic as the woman tried to suck it. Her face had almost no expression. Her eyes just stared into space.

The other four “Mare” envelopes contained similar photos of four other women being used by multiple men. In one set the naked men were holding up a banner with Greek letters on it, so they were probably members of a college fraternity who had paid for the “Mare” as their entertainment for the evening. There were pictures of Mare Two with three different groups of men. Mare Five had been given to two groups. The other Mares had each only been in one gang fuck, apparently.

The small ledger detailed everything about the operation that Paul and Jack were running, including the names, addresses, and telephone numbers of their Mares. Paul and Jack had “rented” them to various groups of men, charging five-hundred dollars per man for a four-hour party. The smallest group was eight men, and the largest was eleven. He and Jack always participated, too. They were collecting about $12,000 each month from their stable.

We unfolded three large mailing envelopes we had brought with us in Jeannie’s purse. They were covered with plenty of postage and addressed to the Chamber of Commerce, to the police, and to Paul’s wife. We put two or three dozen pictures showing both Paul and Jack fucking different women into each one. We planned to mail them after we set Paul free.

We knew we had to protect ourselves for several days until the three envelopes were delivered. Our girls were already with Jeannie’s parents, and she was going to leave early in the morning to visit them for a week or so. We hoped that Paul and Jack would attempt to break into our home. I was fully prepared to kill them if they did. I’d even purchased an additional handgun.

We assumed we wouldn’t have to worry about Paul and Jack once the police, the Chamber, and Paul’s wife saw the pictures. This was the weakest part of our plan, and I was worried that we might have underestimated either how angry Paul and Jack would be, or their resources. We didn’t even know who Jack was. What would he do once Paul’s activities were exposed? Would he come after us?

We went back to question Paul. He had regained his defiant attitude. “Fuck you! You aren’t going to leave me tied up to die. You don’t have the guts! In a couple of days you’ll get to watch this cunt begging Jack and me to fuck her. Then we’ll do her while you watch. We’ll tape it and sell the video to . . . ”
Paul shut up when I triple-looped another cable tie around his genitals and started to tighten it. “Not you, Paul. We’ll just leave this on for a couple of hours. You’ll never fuck anybody again. That will be worse than killing you, won’t it?” I pulled it tighter. He groaned, then he readily answered all of our questions. The makeshift cock ring caused his penis to slowly become erect as he talked.

Jack was Paul’s brother-in-law and partner in this blackmail operation. Their wives were sisters, the daughters of a wealthy stockbroker. When their parents had died in a plane crash, the women had become rich. They had received good legal and financial advice, and both had wisely demanded prenuptial agreements from their husbands-to-be. Paul and Jack both wanted more sex than their wives were willing to provide, but they knew if they got caught having affairs their wives would divorce them, leaving the men without any money.

Paul and Jack had set up the apartment so that they blackmail women into being sex toys. They chose women who had good bodies and were pretty. They also selected women who were most likely monogamous, both to avoid diseases but also because they were more easily blackmailed. What had worked to trap Jeannie had also worked with most of the others. The two highschool girls were babysitters whom Paul had seduced (I presumed raped) while his wife was out of the house.

Paul and Jack had shared all of the women except Jeannie. Jack had been really mad when he’d found out that Paul had kept her for himself. I didn’t ask him why he hadn’t shared her with Jack. I wasn’t sure I could handle the answer to that one. Perhaps I already knew.

A couple of months earlier they realized that they could also generate a lot of tax-free money if they “rented” their sex-slaves to other men. Apparently some of their women, particularly the “newer” ones, went into hysterics the first few times they were fucked by both Jack and Paul at the same time. So they began their stable with the women who had been having sex with them the longest.

Although they all resisted become true whores, only one woman adamantly refused to be sold. She agreed to continue Paul and Jack, but she wouldn’t do more than that. They believed her threat that she would reveal having sex with them before she would allow herself to be gang-fucked. I couldn’t imagine the sort of reasoning would enable her to draw the line at that point, given that she had already fucked both of them at the same time. Paul and Jack recently realized that they could make even more money by selling videos of the women in action. Paul had planned to tape Cindy fucking him today. Jack wasn’t in the apartment because Cindy had never met him, and they wanted to get a really hot tape. They knew that Cindy would eventually have to fuck both of them at the same time, and a tape of her doing that would be worth a lot of money. Cindy, like Jeannie, was a screamer - as a comment on her envelope attested.

They planned to put most of their women into the stable. They were even going to make and sell videos of them being gang-fucked. Paul told me what I had already discovered from reading their journal, namely that they had eight more parties already scheduled for their Mares. That was the fate Paul had planned for Jeannie.

We left Paul alone again, and returned to the front room. “I don’t think our plan is going to work right,” I whispered to Jeannie. “Once Paul is free, he’ll get Jack and come after us. They won’t quit until the stuff we mail gets delivered. That could be too late. They might even come tonight.”

Jeannie frowned. “And what are we going to do with all these pictures? We can’t destroy them here, and I really don’t want to take them with us.”

“I don’t think we can kill him, but we need some way to . . . you know, keep him occupied so that . . . so that we aren’t his biggest concern. We’ve got to keep him tied up until then. But we can’t hold him for several days! He’s already figured out that I can’t kill him - even though he had sex with you. So what do we do now?”

“As much as I want to kill him, I can’t just leave him to die! But I want him to really suffer for what he made me do with him!”

It took us most of an hour to figure out a new plan. Jeannie frightened me by the look on her face as she quickly agreed. She even improved it with several suggestions. I was reminded of stories I’d read saying that captured warriors were more afraid of being turned over to their captors’ women than anything else. I’m sure Paul would have agreed with that sentiment if we had explained our new plan to him.

FINAL ACT OF VENGEANCE

Jeannie and I went back through some of the envelopes. We chose some pictures to be left in plain view on the floor after we left. We selected additional ones for the Chamber and for the police. We also put the ledger and the video into the one for the police. We sealed them carefully, using water from the bathroom rather than our own saliva. We would no longer need the envelope addressed to Paul’s wife.

We gathered up the huge remaining pile of blackmail photographs and carried them to the bedroom where Paul was. He was visibly surprised when we put everything back inside the safe, then locked it. His penis was erect, thought not as fully as it had been the first time we’d put the cable tie around it.

When we were almost ready, I went back to Paul. I used more cable ties and duct tape to secure him to a radiator under the window. Paul glared at me. I heard Jeannie leaving the apartment, so it was time to get things going. I tightened the cable tie just enough so that his penis was so erect it probably hurt.

“Here’s the deal, Paul. You can’t move, and I don’t think you’ll be able to get loose without help. But we’re not going to risk leaving you alone and having you die. So I’m going to call your wife and tell her to come over here to set you free.”

Paul’s face turned pale. “She’ll kill me, you bastard! She’ll fuckin’ kill me!”

“Maybe not. You’re a salesman, so sell her. I’m going to motivate you to really work hard to convince your wife that she should cut you free. As soon as Jeannie sees her arrive, I’ll tighten that cable tie like I did before. As tight as I can. I’ll leave the knife on top of the safe. You have to get her to cut you free before - well, before you become a man who is only useful as someone to fuck in a gay bar. You’d be neither man nor woman. Think you can sell her that?”

Paul called me several names. I managed to laugh. His proud erection looked red and sore as it stuck straight up. “Better save your voice so you can talk your wife into letting you keep it, Paul. Or maybe you should just tell it goodbye?”

I walked out to the front room and made the call. A maid answered, and I couldn’t get Paul’s wife on the phone for several minutes. Finally she came on the line when I told the maid that it was a matter of life and death.

I told Paul’s wife that he was in serious trouble, and for her family’s sake she wouldn’t want the police to find out what he’d been doing. But he needed her immediate help or everything would come out. I wouldn’t give her any details. She was hard to convince. She wanted to know who I was and I wouldn’t tell her. Twice she said she wasn’t going to fall for something like this, so I told her it was about sex. She cursed several times. Paul was going to have a hell of a hard time saving his genitals. But she finally did agree to come to the apartment.

I turned on the walkie-talkie and called Jeannie. She answered on hers. We kept them on while we waited. It took longer than I thought it would.

Paul had told us the plate number, color, and type of car she would be driving. I was listening to the hiss on the radio when I heard Jeannie’s worried voice. We hadn’t had time to prepare any new codes. “She’s here. But there’s someone with her. Another woman.”

“How long do I have?”

“Maybe a minute or so. They had to park down the block, and they’re still sitting in the car, talking. I don’t think they like the neighborhood. Wait! They’re getting out now. Hurry!”

I ran back to Paul and told him not to scream. I pulled the cable tie as tight as I could. He groaned and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “Shit! That hurts even more than before!” As I got to my feet, he opened his eyes and stared at his slowly dying manhood. It wasn’t blue yet, but it would be in a few minutes. Saving it was up to him - and to his wife.

I ran back to the front room and I only had to wait for a few seconds before I heard the buzz of the intercom. “Yeah?”

“I came like you said. I brought my sister, too. Buzz us in. This better not be a trap. We’re armed.”

“Take the elevator. I’ll leave the door ajar.” I pushed the button to release the downstairs lock. Jack’s wife was with her! This was going to work better than we’d planned!

I used a photo to keep the door latch from catching. With both sisters here, it was particularly appropriate. It showed several naked men around Paul and Jack as the two of them did a double-penetration on one of their Mares. She was screaming and the guys were all grinning.

I avoided the women by walking down the stairs to the first floor. I doubted they would have shot me, but I didn’t see any reason they should see me, either. I left the building, crossed the street, and got into my car. I called Jeannie on the radio, then turned it off after she answered.

Jeannie and I had left a trail of photographs, showing both men fucking different women, leading back to the room where Jack was tied up. We’d decided to include pictures of Jack because we wanted Paul’s wife to realize exactly what Paul had been up to. It hadn’t occurred to us that Jack’s wife would also arrive at the apartment, but now both women would find out the truth about their husbands.

We knew that Paul and Jack would be so busy dealing with their angry wives that they wouldn’t have time to come after us. Once the Chamber of Commerce and police received what we’d mailed to them, Paul and Jack would have even more problems. Jeannie and I would be the least of their worries.

Now it was up to Paul to talk his wife into saving his manhood. The real wildcard was having Jack’s wife, her sister, also in the room. I doubted either woman would be understanding or sympathetic, and we expected them to let Jack suffer. We thought it likely that he would suffer considerable damage before they got him to a hospital. That thought caused my penis to stiffen. I didn’t have to figure out why. I wasn’t proud of the answer.

Jeannie joined me in my car. I left her there while I took the two envelopes to a mailbox about a block away. The envelopes were so thick I had to be careful pushing them through the slot. I went back to my car. We sat together and watched the front door of the apartment building. How long would it take until they came out?

“It’s been over ten minutes already. If that tie is still on, his dork and balls are already turning blue. I’ll bet it really hurts! I wonder how long his wife will wait before she saves him? Think she’ll do it before he’s permanently damaged?”

“Can’t you imagine the scene?” Jeannie giggled. “He’s tied up and helpless. His organ is sticking straight out and slowly getting darker and darker. His wife is looking at it after just finding that collection of pictures of him using it on all those different women. And he’s begging her to cut him loose so that he won’t lose it! I wish I could be a fly on the wall in that room!”

I laughed, too. “C’mon, Honey! Cut me loose so I can share this big, hard stiff one with you. You KNOW how popular it is! I mean, ALL of my women really like me to fuck them with it! Don’t you want it, too?”

“You’re terrible, Jim!” Jeannie giggled again.

Several more minutes passed as we stared at the door. Jeannie voiced what we were thinking. “I think she’ll cut more than the plastic tie. Maybe that’s what she did and they’re cleaning up the mess. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

An hour later a man in a security guard’s uniform let himself into the building. Jeannie and I were getting worried. Events were not following our plan. We stopped talking and just stared at the building, hoping to see all of them come out. Three more hours dragged by.

“What’s taking them so long?” Jeannie asked.

“Beats the hell out of me! We didn’t plan on this. I figured their biggest problem would be getting Paul out if he couldn’t walk because of the pain. What are they waiting for?”

“I’ll bet they’re waiting until they’re sure he’ll lose his penis and testicles. Then they’ll take him to a hospital.”

“I hope you’re right, Jeannie! I’m getting really worried. Why are you moving around so much?”

“I’ve really gotta pee!” Jeannie moaned.

“Maybe you could just squat in the street. It’s pitch black out here. Nobody would see you.” Jeannie hit me on the arm and muttered something about guys not understanding women. I began to squirm on the seat, too. What if he still had the tie around his genitals? This thing could be going too far!

It was about fifteen minutes later when both women came out together without Paul. They were having an animated conversation as they walked to their car. I quickly rolled down the window so I could hear.

” . . . really give a shit! Let his nuts fall off before he croaks! Somebody did us a favor!”

“God I’m pissed at Jack! Drive me back to my car. I’ll go home and take care of that cheat by myself.”

ABRUPT CHANGE IN THE PLAN

They pulled out, drove away, and disappeared down the street. “Jim, they’re going to let Paul die! If we don’t cut him free, we’ll be guilty of murder!”

“Dammit Jeannie! We didn’t plan this out right! I left his key inside the apartment. There’s no way we can get back inside!”

“There’s a pay phone over there. I’ll call 911.”

Jeannie made the call, then returned to the car. “I’ll stay here, Jeannie, just to make certain they come. I’ll call 911 again if they don’t. You take your car and get the hell out of here.”

Jeannie nodded, then crossed the street. A couple of minutes later I saw her driving away, so I knew she was safely gone. I looked at my watch. Shit! That cable tie had been around Paul’s genitals for much too long! Almost five hours!

It was several more minutes before I heard a siren and the paramedics finally arrived. The security guard let them into the building, and I could see everyone running toward the elevators. Paul was in serious trouble, even if the paramedics immediately cut the tie. And if they did so, would blood suddenly flowing into his dead organs poison him?

I was worrying and sweating really hard when the paramedics came out with Paul on a stretcher. I heard them say “critical” and “unconscious” before I pulled away from the curb and drove home.

Jeannie and I were worried about getting caught, and since we didn’t know what had happened to Paul, we were worried about that, too. We held each other and hugged all night long. It was later the next day before a newscast told us more of what had happened.

“This from the Channel 6 newsroom. Local Realtor Paul Keener, shown here a few weeks ago receiving the Man of the Year Award from the Chamber of Commerce, was rushed to Memorial Hospital early this morning after paramedics found him unconscious. The hospital would only confirm that Keener had required emergency surgery after he was admitted. He remains in critical condition.

“In a possibly related story, Jack Brewer, Keener’s brother-in-law, was admitted to the same hospital a few hours later. His wife has been charged with attempted murder and was released after posting bond. Channel 6 obtained a copy of the police report which alleges that Mrs. Brewer used a kitchen knife to sever a portion of his penis which she then destroyed in the garbage disposal. Hospital authorities would only confirm that Jack Brewer received surgery this morning.

“We’ll keep you updated as these stories develop. Now the national news. Congress began debating . . . ”

Had Paul passed out when they cut the tie? If so, why hadn’t they called for help? How did his wife’s comment about his balls falling off fit in? What had the women done to him?

A few minutes later I answered the phone. “Just listen. No matter what, you don’t know who this is. I’m calling from a pay phone. You can say it was a wrong number.” I immediately recognized the distinctive sound of the police officer I knew from church. The one I had planned to ask to use his reverse directory to find out where Jeannie was.

“Okay. Sure.”

“You stupid ass! There were video cameras - no sound - in the lobby and elevator. You’re on tape. Better get a story together before you have to tell it to the police. They’ll figure out who you are in an hour or so.” He hung up.

The police didn’t actually call until the following day, and it was late afternoon before they talked to me - after first interviewing Jeannie. We had taken plenty of time to review everything that could have been videotaped, and we concocted a mixture of truth and believable (we hoped) fiction.

We told them that we’d gone to Paul’s apartment because he’d been blackmailing her into having sex with him. We’d seen a young woman in the elevator, and we’d scared her off since she was going the same place we were. When Paul had seen me with Jeannie, he’d argued with us but had finally given us her pictures. We didn’t know what had happened to him. He was fine when we left. We described the robe he was wearing.

Under questioning I admitted I’d threatened Paul with my handgun. I denied hitting him or hurting him. I claimed that he had said Jeannie wasn’t worth keeping since I knew about it, so he gave me the pictures.

Where were the pictures now? I’d burned them and flushed the ashes down the toilet. How come I wasn’t carrying them when I came out of the apartment? I’d hidden them inside my pants. Where was my gun? At home. Could they have it? Certainly. (It hadn’t been fired in months.) They didn’t believe either of us, but they couldn’t find any reason to detain us. We were surprised when they never called us back for more questions. They never even bothered to come get my gun.

I knew that the envelopes I’d mailed had arrived. Four days later it was the hottest story on the news. The Chamber rescinded its award to Paul, stating that they had incontrovertible evidence that he was a sex criminal. A reporter knew a cop who filled in most of the details. For several weeks the news was full of stories about blackmail, pornographic pictures of local women, housewives participating in organized prostitution, and the pornographic video business. Although partly based upon truth, most of the stories were pure speculation.

Jack’s wife had indeed severed his penis. The news media went into a frenzy when all charges against her were dropped. At least a dozen theories were proposed to explain this obvious travesty of justice. After all, could women be allowed to take such action against unfaithful husbands - and then suffer no penalty?

Paul’s wife actually appeared on television after she filed for divorce. Her comments were inappropriate for the early news, but she was interviewed for the local 11:00 o’clock news. She said that Paul always needed a mechanical device to maintain his erection. “He must have been experimenting with a new one in his secret sex apartment. When the hospital called me, they said he had necro-something. They had to operate to save him. They cut everything off. My soon-to-be ex-husband is no longer a man. In any sense at all.”

For several weeks Jeannie and I worried about the police figuring out that we had tortured Paul, but we tried to act as normally as possible in public. We managed to make love once, but it was so frantic and hurried that neither of us enjoyed it. Waiting to be arrested for torture and attempted murder - murder if Paul died - is hardly an aphrodisiac.
However our worry and guilt did encourage us to become regular members of our church. Lizzie and Jennifer had fun in Sunday school, and our Sunday morning family breakfasts evolved into post-church-service family brunches. We’d experienced the Devil, and now it was time to get to know God. Sure.

THE GOOD/BAD NEWS

It was after church a month later when I finally found out enough to realize that Jeannie and I were in the clear. Remember the cop I mentioned? The one who tipped us off? There was a church picnic one Sunday afternoon, and I innocently asked him about the Keener-Brewer sex scandal. He looked around to be certain nobody was listening to us, and told me what he knew.

“We don’t know a lot of the story. The doctors thought there were marks from a stun gun on Paul, but they couldn’t be certain and he denied it. The paramedics had found Paul unconscious in a back bedroom. There were red marks on his wrists and ankles, and there was tape-glue on his feet, but there was no trace of anything in the apartment that could have been used to tie him up. Paul had a plastic tie around his genitals, but his wife stated that Paul used a cock ring, and she said she thought he’d been trying some new way to keep his erection, and he had probably pulled it too tight. That’s crap. But we can’t prove otherwise.

“His wife claims she knew nothing about the apartment, the bedroom with sex- soiled sheets, or the sex machine we found. But we know she went bonkers when she found out, so we believe her about that.

“There was semen from both Jack and Paul on that bed. Plus vaginal secretions from half-a-dozen women. Their wives have them for adultery. Cold. No way for the guys to fight it.

“In the room where Paul was found, there was a safe full of photographs. The only ones missing were Jeannie’s. Hard to believe he gave them to you without one hell of a fight.

“Paul has tried to kill himself twice. He’s under twenty-four-hour watch. Everyone at the jail knows he’s got no nuts or prick, and several guards, including two women, had been disciplined for teasing and mocking him.

“Jack has a quarter-inch stump where his organ used to be. We found traces of his penis in the garbage disposal. We charged his wife with several crimes, but her high-priced attorney persuaded the district attorney to drop everything. She claimed that somebody had slipped a pile of photographs under her door in the middle of the night. When she found them, she suffered “temporary insanity” and doesn’t remember anything after that. Everyone knows she’s lying through her teeth, but she kept the pics, and the D.A. knows that once a jury saw them, they couldn’t possibly convict her of anything.

“Jack’s agreed to testify against Paul in return for a reduced sentence. The District Attorney agreed to that before we located most of the women in the pictures. It’s too bad. We don’t need him to make the case.”

Several people came within earshot, and he stopped talking. “Let’s go for a walk, Jim,” my friendly cop said to me. When we were well away from everyone, he turned to me, a frown on his face.

“Funny thing. At first Paul claimed his wife is mistaken. He said that you and Jeannie tied him up and put that plastic tie on him. Then called his wife.” He stared at me.

I was too surprised to say anything. He nodded. “I thought so.”

I couldn’t look him in the eye. He stood in front of me and let me suffer for a couple of minutes. “It’s about over, Jim. If Paul did what he first claimed he did to Jeannie, you had a right to do what you did. Not a legal right, maybe not even a moral right. But I’d have killed him if I’d been in your place.”

“Will they - you - arrest Jeannie and me?”

He smiled. “It sure sounded a lot like Jeannie on that 911 tape. You know, the call that saved Paul’s life. Funny thing. Nobody can find it, and there aren’t any copies. So we’ll never know for sure who made the call. Whoever it was had to know what was going on. I’m glad we can’t prove it was your wife, aren’t you?”

I looked him in the eye. “Thank you.”

“What makes you think I had anything to do with the tape getting lost? I don’t want to know anything else, so don’t tell me anything. But one more thing I think you’ll find interesting. The detectives found a witness who says two women came out of the building just before the 911 call. They were talking about a couple of guys who were cheating, and he remembers something about a guy losing his nuts. The women he described could easily be the two sisters, the guys’ wives. But it was dark and he couldn’t make a positive ID. Besides he was pretty dammed drunk at the time. So nobody’s going to try to build a case against those two rich broads. Besides, the word at the department is that Jack and Paul got off easy. From what we can figure out, they got justice. Maybe not legal justice, but justice all the same. So forget about it, Jim. It really is over. Well, almost.”

I wondered what was coming next. He obviously had most of the story figured out. What more was there to say?

“Paul’s wife had a talk with him in jail, and after that he just sat in his cell and stared at the walls for a couple of hours. And ever since that visit he denies you and Jeannie had anything to do with what happened to him. You know what I think? Paul’s wife is involved in this, but probably you are, too. Anyway, revenge is funny. If she got even with Paul, she probably couldn’t resist telling him all about it. You know, to rub it in.

“Then Jack’s wife talked to him a couple of days later, and he’s not talking about Jeannie, now, either. Before that visit he claimed he’d had sex with her. Now he’s changed his story. I think his wife told him exactly how she caught on to his cheating.

“I believe those sisters - those rich bitch wives - found out about their husbands foolin’ around and got vengeance the old fashioned way. If they did tell their husbands what they know, Jack and Paul may be able to put everything together. So if you and Jeannie were involved in any way, you better watch your back. Paul’s goin’ away for a long, long time. He’ll be some tough guy’s bitch within a week, and he probably won’t survive. Even if he does, he’ll probably be harmless if he ever gets out. But Jack’s another story.

“Jack’s saving his ass by testifying against Paul. Not that it really makes any difference since the case against Paul is rock-solid tight even without Jack. We keep identifying more women all the time. Paul acts like he’s mad at Jack, but maybe that’s so the two of them can get revenge on you and Jeannie. They even had a face-to-face, and Paul didn’t act angry until after Jack left. Strange, huh? I’m not saying you were involved, but it sure is funny that they stopped talking about you and Jeannie all of a sudden.

“Anyway Jack cut a deal, and he’ll be out in two or three years. He’s a mean son-of-a-bitch, and now he can’t fuck anymore. But his balls are still pumping out the testosterone, making him want to. He’s going to be frustrated and dangerous. The rich-bitch sisters have plenty of security. But if somebody else is involved, and if Jack and Paul compare stories with what their wives told them, well you get the idea.

“You’ve got your wife back. Your two little girls need both of you. Take care of them, okay?”

With that he wished me well and sauntered back to the rest of the picnic. I just stood there, staring into the nearby woods, wondering what would happen when Jack got out. Jeannie and I could be in real trouble.

GOING FORWARD

When we promised “for better or worse,” we never anticipated anything like what happened. We also have our children to think about, and we are making slow progress as we try to put our marriage back together. We remain unable to take our problems to a professional therapist, partly because we don’t trust them, but mostly because they might feel compelled to turn us in. We found several fairly good marriage books, and we’re working through them together.

The passing of time seems to help - a little. We’ve had infrequent, though passionate, sex several times lately, although not nearly as often as before. Because our living nightmare was about sex, we can’t completely forget what happened when we become aroused. My feelings of inadequacy are probably most of our problem.

Jeannie knew that I had screwed other women before we got serious about each other, but that was all in the past and had nothing to do with her. But she fucked two men after we were married. One even got her pregnant, an incredibly intimate and important event in every woman’s life. Even though she had been blackmailed into committing adultery, she had really enjoyed having sex with them. And they both had bigger dicks than I have.

The same opportunity isn’t available to me, so I can’t get even with her. I could probably seduce a couple of women, but that would be deliberate cheating. Jeannie didn’t choose to cheat; she was blackmailed into adultery. If I fucked someone else, I would really be betraying Jeannie. Can I really say that she betrayed me? Even if a women maneuvered me into a situation where I could get away with fucking her, I would almost certainly still have the choice of saying no. Jeannie didn’t have a choice.

Yesterday I spent several hours seducing Jeannie, and it appeared to help. At breakfast I slipped up behind her and rubbed her breasts through her robe. “Jim! What if the girls see us!” She muttered as her nipples became stiff. I slid one hand down her front and rubbed between her legs as I kissed the back of her neck. She moaned as she pulled away from me. In bed last night we had good, although not great, sex. It’s a start. I managed to forget, for a short time, that Jeannie had experienced exciting extramarital sex with two men. I’m trying to live with it - and the fact that both of them were better endowed than I am. I don’t always succeed. Jack may get out on parole in about eighteen months. I had a security system installed, and we now own three handguns. Our fear of what Jack may do haunts our lives. And I really can’t forget that Jack and Paul could once give Jeannie better sex than I can.

Jeannie and I got revenge. So did Paul’s and Jack’s wives. Now we’re waiting for Jack and Paul to try to get theirs. Thinking about that doesn’t help us to get past what happened. Sometimes I think it would have been better if I’d just killed Paul the night I caught him with Jeannie. Sometimes I think it would have been better if I’d never found out the truth. Sometime the truth hurts too dammed much. Jeannie and I are still Paul’s victims.

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