Angry Husband follows cheating wife

It was an upscale bar, guess I should really call it a Cocktail Lounge. But it was a friendly place. When I got into a casual conversation in the john with a guy who came in with some fellow workers he invited me over to join their group. Nice bunch, too, four guys and a couple gals just leaving the office on Friday afternoon. From what they said this was a regular routine of theirs for Friday after work. The gals and three of the guys were married; the guy who invited me over was divorced. From what he said, I gathered he’d be staying a while longer than his fellow employees.

They gave me a warm welcome, and we had a great time until the marrieds got up to go, leaving me and Phil behind. I told him I was in town on business, and wouldn’t be going home until tomorrow afternoon. That’s what I told him, and in a way it was true.

I had needed to get away after Monday nights ‘event’ and was quietly celebrating. My wife had taken the kids yesterday morning, and taken a long overdue trip to see her parents. The kids had been ecstatic, even if they wondered why I wasn’t coming with them this time. They would be back home Monday.

After what had happened some would find it strange that Alice and I weren’t spending the weekend cuddled together. We had spent all day Tuesday snuggled and sniffling. Then the rest of the week we just kind of hung all over each other. Except for my meetings with the other members of the support-group-to-be and figured we needed a day or two apart to just think and get ourselves together.

Yeah, I was doing some of the sniffling, too. And if you think that makes me less than a man, go to hell. And I’ll be glad to make something of it, too.

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Me, I decided I had to celebrate in a quiet way and figured the only safe way was to get away from the small city I lived in and into someplace big where I could work off steam. Don’t get me wrong, no women for this Daddy, but I did have to blow off some steam. Just get a new perspective, as they say.

Phil told me he wasn’t planning on heading to his apartment until after dinner and asked me to join him. It sounded like a good deal.

We ate in the restaurant connected to the lounge we were in, and a nice one it was, too. Then he showed me to a fine little jazz club where we had a few more, and I guess I got too mellow. No harm done, he didn’t know me, and had no idea where I was from.

“Hey, Phil! I’m celebrating tonight,” I told him. “If you’ll listen to my story, I’ll pick up the tab for the club.” Jeez! Sometimes I wish I could keep my mouth shut! That little bit cost me a couple hundred. Next time I’ll look and see what they’re charging for drinks and cover before I open my mouth.

He gave me a quizzical look, and nodded his OK. “Is this a single malt story, or Four Roses?” he asked.

“Well, order the scotch if that’s what you want to drink,” I told him. “It’s a pretty good story, and it’s just winding down. But it looks like a happy ending. You be the judge, OK?” With that I swung into my story. = = = = =

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It started a few weeks ago, on a Tuesday. At breakfast I noticed that Alice was really down. She was moving stiffly and acted like she was pretty sore. I asked her what was wrong. She told me she must have slept funny, she’d be all right as the day went on.

I went on to work, not thinking anything more of it until I called her at lunch to find out how she was doing. She answered the phone kind of angry, something like, ‘What do you want NOW!’ Stopped me for a moment, and when I said hello, she gave a gasp of surprise and stumbled all over herself apologizing. She passed it off as thinking I was a telemarketer. She told me she was fine, and loved me. She was a lot more lovey-dovey than usual.

After I hung up the phone, I started thinking. Monday was her night out with the girls, they got together for cards and didn’t get home until late. They were real cutthroat players; several were into Tournament Bridge and the games meant a lot to them. She had been out until almost two that morning, much later than usual even for her Bridge night. Just a little more thought and I remembered the same thing had happened the week before.

It was about then that I realized she hadn’t bent my ear that morning talking about last night’s game. I usually listened with one ear, the same one she used when I talked about my golf game. But I was still interested because I was interested in her, but she hadn’t mentioned one thing about it this morning. Very unusual!

And last Tuesday she woke up grouchy and moving like she was sore then, too. I passed it off as coincidence, and got back to work.

That night I waited for her to tell me about the tricks she had finessed, the foolish bids her partner had made, who she had partnered with and so on. She never said a word. I asked her how the game had gone, and she just told me it was pretty good, like usual.

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This wasn’t usual at all.

On the way home Wednesday I stopped for some groceries Alice had asked me to pick up. At the market I ran into Fay, a casual acquaintance to me but one of Alice’s favorite partners on Mondays. I was going in as she was leaving and we hardly slowed down as we passed one another. She said, “Hi, tell Alice I missed her Monday, and hope she can make it next week.”

I had taken a couple steps into the store before what she said registered, and when I turned around she was already in her car. That set me to thinking.

Something was going on, and it didn’t sound good. We had been married for a dozen years, and I had never doubted her in all that time. Suddenly I was seriously worried for my marriage and family. This wasn’t at all like my Alice.

The sudden doubts made me feel like a heel, too. All I had were a couple of coincidences and a casual comment. Maybe Fay had been the one missing Monday. Nevertheless I figured I’d better look into this. If I didn’t it would be bugging me and I would find myself looking jealously and doubting my best friend. I’d never been jealous before, and it would put a sour smell around our relationship.

At the same time, I couldn’t bring myself to tell my love that I doubted her. It was too preposterous to be true and she would either get mad or think it hilariously funny, or both.

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And I sure didn’t want to give her ideas.

Now THAT was exactly the kind of thing I’d start thinking if I didn’t get this cleared up!

Now I’m not a very impressive physical specimen, and I wondered how I would handle myself if I found out my Alice was having an affair. Sure wouldn’t make sense for me to rise to my full 5′ 7″ and 180 lbs balding head and all. It would make me giggle and I would be the one doing the rising!

So that might take some thought too.

If anything was happening it was going down Monday nights while I was watching the kids, and she was supposed to be at bridge. That weekend I did a lot of scheming and planning. By Monday morning I figured I had covered every contingency.

That Monday I called Alice and told her I had a lot of work I had to do. She said she would call our regular babysitter to come over so I could be undisturbed. The sitter was to come over just before Alice left which allowed me to ‘suddenly remember’ I had to get something from the office and the kids would still be taken care of.

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I left about forty-five minutes before Alice would normally leave. I just drove down to the mall where I’d parked a rental from Rent-A-Wreck. She had to pass the mall on the way out of our little community so I just waited until Alice drove by in her Volvo station wagon. When I saw her go by, I fell in a safe distance behind her. Almost immediately I knew she wasn’t going to play bridge. They were scheduled to play tonight just half a mile down the street from the mall. Instead she drove out of our little development, and I followed her to a small house in a questionable neighborhood a little over seven miles away.

She parked in the driveway, and after dithering in her car a while, she got out and walked to a side door I could see from where I was watching. She stopped on the porch, burying her face in her hands for a moment, straightened her shoulders, opened the door and walked in. From where I was sitting I could see the window and watched my wife’s shadow as she stopped in front of the window. The shade was drawn, but where she was standing the light was behind her. As I watched her shadow, she seemed to be stripping off her clothes! When she turned out the light I figured she was leaving for either the living room, or the bedroom. It didn’t make much difference. An attractive naked woman is a utilitarian ornament any place she goes.

Emotions I didn’t know I had slammed me hard. For a moment I was sure I was going to throw up my dinner, but I managed to hold it in. I had already switched off the overhead light in the car so when I opened the door nothing called attention to me. Making sure I had the fanny pack strapped on with my ‘possibles’. The possibles kit included brass knuckles, a bottle of ‘muscle relaxant’ I’d managed to cumshaw, some pepper spray and a couple of other things I thought might ‘possibly’ be helpful.

I made my way to the side door. It was still unlocked, and opened into a utility room off the kitchen.

The dark clothes I was wearing pretty much hid me in the night, and my soft-soled shoes made no sound as I stepped onto the porch and eased open the door. Stepping inside I heard a deep male voice, “Hey bitch, where the hell is my Dago?” I heard the meaty thunk of a hand or fist on flesh. “Now get the fuck back to the kitchen and get it!” I saw a bottle of red wine was on the counter, already opened.

I jumped over to it, unstoppering the muscle relaxant as I went and poured some in. I hoped it was enough, didn’t really care if it was too much; not then anyway. Whipping silently back into the utility room I waited with the door into the kitchen almost shut. It turned out I didn’t need to hurry. I was safely in the pantry when I heard my wife whimper then again cry out with pain. After a thump that sounded like someone falling on the floor I heard her sniffling as she shuffled to the kitchen.

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“Bitch, clean your face off. I don’t like sniveling cunts. Be looking good when you get back here! You’re not dealing with that wuss husband tonight,” came the male voice.

My naked Alice walked into the kitchen, snapping on the light. She was rubbing her breast where a large red splotch stood out where it looked like someone had hit her. Picking up the wine she looked at the cabinets for a moment, opening one, closing it, then opening a second one and pulling out two glasses. Leaving the kitchen she turned out the light.

Well that was moderately good news. She hadn’t been here often enough to know where things were kept in the kitchen. I knew my Alice. If she had been here regularly she would have been very familiar with the kitchen layout. It was something she seemed to study whenever she visited a strange house.

And I knew she wasn’t into pain.

I would bet good money she wasn’t here voluntarily. And everyone knows I never bet on less than a sure thing.

Now I had to wait for the relaxant to work. And that was going to be hard, just sitting here waiting. Let me explain about the muscle relaxant. In some medical procedures, the medicos need a patient totally relaxed, and they have a couple of drugs that do that. Doesn’t mean one can’t use one’s muscles, but those muscles would be as weak as a kitten.

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Don’t ask me how I got my hands on it. I won’t tell you.

It was hell sitting there. I could hear the SOB berating Alice, and a few smacks. The guy was into pain; into giving it and not taking I was sure. The hardest to listen to though, were the muffled little sounds of him doing things to Alice, and ordering her to do things to him.

Finally I got up and headed out of the kitchen in the direction of the ‘voice’. The wait had not helped mellow my mood and everything I looked at seemed to have a tinge of red around it. When I got to the end of the hall and a half open door I could hear Alice whimpering and whispering. I just silently cursed him as I slipped on the gloves I’d taken along, just in case.

“Please, please let me go. I’ve never done anything to you, please. I have a family, don’t do this. Jesus, I’m going crazy with this…”

There was the sound of another slap, then the ‘voice’, “Shut the fuck up, cunt. Now you are on your knees for a very good reason. I want a better suck job than you gave me last week. And if you don’t drink it all down, I’m going to ram it up your ass again; this time no lubrication. No reason for me to be a nice guy if you don’t do your part, whore-slut. Now start sucking.”

I peeked in the room and there was my wife on her knees in front of this huge monster of a man. Hell he must have weighed three hundred pounds. Ugly as sin, with a badly pock-marked and scarred face. He had his pants and skivvies down around his ankles, and was pouring more wine into the glass in his hand. The bottle was now over half empty. There was a second glass still on the bedside table that looked clean from where I was standing. My surmise was that Alice hadn’t been allowed to drink any of the wine. Man-Mountain had sucked half a bottle down in thirty minutes.

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As I watched, my wife opened her mouth and sucked the guys cock into her mouth. She had a problem reaching it where it lay under his big belly. He put one hand behind her head and lunged his hips up into her mouth. I could hear her retching as it hit the back of her throat. The big gorilla laughed.

The guy I got the relaxant from told me the stuff was usually given intravenously, and took less than sixty seconds to work that way. But it could be given orally. It would take twenty minutes to take effect if it was administered orally. Faster if any alcohol had been taken. It had been a little over half an hour since Alice carried the wine in. It figured he had been drinking pretty steadily ever since. It was damned sure he had drunk enough for it to be effective. For maybe two seconds I worried he might have had an over-dose. Then I shrugged my shoulders. As things stood, I might have trouble not trying to kill him with my bare hands.

I hoped I was right about it taking effect, because I couldn’t take any more of this shithead abusing my wife. I pushed open the door and stepped into the room. The bastard’s eyes got big, and he pushed himself to his feet. The first effect was bad for Alice, as in standing up he drove his cock further down her throat. He let go of her head and she fell to her side coughing and retching.

The bastard had to be six foot five if he was an inch. He roared real loud and stepped forward to smash me. Unfortunately for him he forgot his pants were around his ankles. He pitched forward, landing on his nose. It was gratifying to see he didn’t catch himself with his arms as he fell; they seemed to collapse under his weight as he landed.

I looked down at him and sneered, “Get up, shithead! Mommy’ little fat boy afraid to stand up to a man?”

The guy’s eyes got even bigger as the blood poured out of his nose. I guess my attitude surprised him just because he was a foot taller and one hundred fifty pounds heavier than I was. Hell, maybe more, maybe he was over 200lbs bigger. He was huge!

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He started to struggle to his feet, and I told him if he wanted to take his pants off he should just go ahead and do it. I’d let him. If he didn’t want to, I’d take them off for him. He tried to yank them up, but they were so tangled they wouldn’t come so he did just what I said. I mean, he pushed and prodded at them until they were off his feet, taking his shoes with them. It seemed like real work for him, so the relaxant must have been working.

As he got to his feet, I slipped one of the brass knucks on my right hand. Then I stepped in close to him and jumped on his toes. I landed on the edge of my heel and he screamed. Damn it that HAD to hurt. Then I put all my meager weight behind my shoulder as I tried to lift him off the ground with my fist. I actually raised him up on his toes. What did the job though was the muscle relaxant. His abdominal muscles had been relaxed also and my fist just sank into his gut. Seemed to me that my arm was more than wrist deep into his belly.

The air whooshed out of him and he sagged backwards, landing on the bed. Then the wine spewed out of him. I didn’t wait for him, but stepped forward and began lacing him around the head with my fists. With my hands encased in the heavy gloves, I was trying to place as many punches on his temples as I could. Alternatively I was aiming at his throat. My goal was to make him groggy without breaking my hands on his head.

The asshole was just pawing at me. I guess he thought he was landing blows, but he didn’t have the strength of a kitten. I’m sure he had no idea why he couldn’t seem to hurt me. Couldn’t have ever happened to him before. After maybe ten minutes, he just gave up. He started to cry, falling on the bed and rolling into a ball he tried to cover his head with his arms.

I turned to Alice who was sitting on the floor, staring at me open-mouthed. “See if Shit-For-Brains has any ties in the closet, girl. Bring them to me.”

She just looked at me for a moment, until I barked at her, “NOW!” She jumped up and ran to the closet. Grabbing a handful off the rack she hurried them over to me.

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Grabbing SFB’s far hand I yanked on it, turning him onto his belly. Then I wound a tie around it and tied it on, tight. Jumping on the bed I pulled his other arm back and fastened a tie around it. Then I tied the arms together behind his back.

Stepping back onto the floor I told him to get all the way on the bed. He just looked at me over his shoulder. Reaching down I pulled a sock off one of his feet, then pinched his nose closed. When he opened his mouth to breathe I shoved the sock in it.

“Now you know what I mean, Shit-For-Brains, when I tell you to put a sock in it!” And I laughed at him. The joke wasn’t all that funny, but the situation was to me, now.

My anger and hatred of this thing were threatening to overwhelm me. I stopped for a moment and took a couple deep breaths. I didn’t care what happened to him, but my kids needed their dad, and Alice was going to need me around after I got her home. My family couldn’t afford my losing control.

Keeping his nose pinched closed, and a hand over his mouth to keep the dirty sock in it, I asked him again to get on the bed.

By this time he was sobbing real tears, gasping and unable to take a real breath. Being unable to breathe took any last wisp of fight out of him. He slithered himself into the middle of the bed, where I had him get on his knees, with his head on a pillow. I then pushed several pillows under his belly before whipping his ass with the belt I pulled off of his trousers. It was a pleasurable ten minutes beating on him before I drug myself out of the nasty loop I had fallen into. Every time I began to stop I remembered Alice holding her tit where the son of a bitch had hit her. When I did stop his ass was a brilliant red, already purple in places. Blood was seeping out in others.

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Untying his hands I pulled each to a post at the head of the bed, and retied them there. After a little adjustment, you couldn’t see that the hands were tied. It looked like he was holding onto the bed.

Stepping back and studying the bedroom I saw a video camera on the dresser next to a digital camera. A computer setup was in one corner. I asked Alice if he had taken pictures of her. She hid her face in her hands and nodded yes. I told her not to worry about that now, that we would talk this out later.

Some ideas were beginning to bubble into my head. I told Alice to go to the kitchen, get dressed, and then bring any carrots, cucumbers or other long vegetables with her when she came back to the bedroom. While she was gone, I booted the computer up and started looking for floppies and zip disks. There really weren’t too many of them, but I started a full format on every one I found, tossing them into a wastebasket when each was completely reformatted.

I’d reformatted every floppy by the time Alice returned. She looked a lot more comfortable with her clothes on, and the look of hatred she directed at ShitForBrains was classic. She handed me a bunch of carrots, a couple zucchinis and two cucumbers.

Asking Alice to start reformatting the five zip drives I found, I started inventorying what was available in the bedroom.

Now I am no homosexual. As the saying goes, I’ve nothing against the lifestyle as long as they keep it away from me. I mean, if you get hot buggering some guy, or sucking him off, that’s your thing. I’ve got something with whole different plumbing that lights my fire. Real hot! But what I saw in SFB’s house, he was possibly a real homophobe. Lots of these big rough men were. I always figured they were worried because they had maybe done some experimenting when they were real young and were worried down deep that they were gay.

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Hell, I read that almost every guy has experimented with loving another guy when he was just learning how his own plumbing worked. No big deal! Girls are kind of hard to cum by when a fellow is just into puberty. With the way he was treating my gentle wife, he was probably very loud in bragging about hating those ‘motherfucking queers.’ With his size and temperament, I guessed he’d be aggressive about it, too. It would surprise me if he hadn’t been picking fights with men who he only suspected of being gay. Damn, I knew of a couple pro football players, and a pro wrestler that would like to ask to discuss his problem with him.

I found a pair of scissors in a bureau drawer and used them to cut Shit-For-Brains shirt off. He was now sickenly naked. It was really an unappetizing sight. I had been intent on rescuing my wife, but now I really felt sorry for her. There was no possible way she had been with this slug willingly.

Calling Alice over, I handed her the video camera and told her she was now the family cameraperson. She was to take some really nice pictures, with as many good shots of SFB’s face as possible. She was to make sure my face appeared in NONE of the shots she was taking.

With that I stripped my clothes off. What I wanted to do, I might not be able to do. I mean, looking at this pile of lard did anything but make my cock hard. But maybe if I thought of Alice’s sexy body or Victoria Principal’s things would work right.

SFB was lying on the bed, on his belly and with his big ass stuck up in the air. I grabbed the biggest carrot, and just shoved it up his ass.

He let out a bellow, and tried to lurch up, but the relaxant was really working now. He couldn’t even get his knees under him. Reaching over I pinched his nostrils shut again, then told him to shut up if he wanted to breathe. Picking up the sock he had spit out, I added the one off his other foot to it and crammed them into his mouth again. Working the carrot back and forth, then in and out a little, I told him it was all right to hurt, just not to make any noise while he did so.

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As I worked with the carrot, it began to go in easier. At the same time SFB seemed to be relaxing a little. I guessed his bowel was opening up a little bit. So I switched to a zucchini, a little bigger. That seemed to get his attention again.

While I was doing this, Alice had been video taping the festivities. Every once in a while she would put down the camera and swap one Zip disk out of the computer and put another one in. She had just finished setting up and taking a close-up when she told me all the Zip’s were reformatted. One close-up is worth describing, and it was Alice’s idea. She turned SFB’s face to the side so it could be in the shot and made sure his mouth was fully closed. She didn’t want the socks to show. Then she got behind him and got a great shot of the zucchini being fucked in and out of his ass, while we could see the agony on his face and the tears streaming down his cheeks. SFB was blubbering like a baby!

When the video shoot was over I asked Alice if she wanted to play with a cucumber while I finished with the computer. She very literally jumped at the idea. My sweet, gentle wife, the one who couldn’t see me setting a regular mouse trap, hated this sack of shit so much she wanted to shove a cucumber up his ass. And she wanted to do it before his pucker expanded enough to really take it in.

While she was amusing herself I began a complete reformatting of the hard drive. When I left there, he would be able to boot it up, but that was all. Once the format was completed, I started the computer on a loop, endlessly copying the number 8 onto the hard drive.

Picking up the carrot that had started his ass reaming, I knelt beside SFB’s face and pulled the socks out of his mouth. Before he could say anything, I shoved a couple inches of brown stained carrot into his mouth and told him to start eating. He seemed reluctant until I reminded him that it was much more comfortable to breathe than not. Reluctantly he began chewing. The faces he made were classic. But by the time he had finished both the carrot and the zucchini one couldn’t tell by looking at his face that he really didn’t want to eat the polluted food.

With Alice manning (womaning?) the video camera again I shoved the other cucumber up his ass and fucked him with it for the camera. Then carefully, so that the tape clearly showed what was happening, I pulled it out of his ass and held the cuke to his mouth. Without prompting he started biting off large chunks, chewing carefully and swallowing. That sequence was worth the whole tape, but the best was about to come.

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It was obvious now it was not going to be possible for my little soldier to grow to his task, so I asked Alice to take me in her mouth, and make me hard. She looked shocked, but I whispered to her that we would together make sure my little soldier had been thoroughly scrubbed and disinfected before any other use was made of him.

Once I was as hard as I was going to get in the circumstances, Alice took the video camera again and took a marvelous sequence of SFB’s sodomy. His face was clearly visible the entire time, while I was never seen above the waist. After it appeared that I had shot a load up his ass, which was a clear impossibility, I was having enough trouble just maintaining an erection, I shoved my cock in his mouth.

I had been worried about this step, but by that time Shit-For-Brains was a sniveling, whining excuse for a man. He was completely broken. His vaunted size and strength had completely failed him and we had forced him to commit acts that truly turned his stomach. And we had video taped the entire procedure.

Leaving Alice to guard SFB I ransacked the house, looking for anything else that might prove an embarrassment to Alice. The only thing I found was an address book, which I put in my pocket. Since I wanted to be thorough in my search, the house was turned upside down before I was finished. I could easily look around and spot anything that still needed to be pulled apart.

Giving Alice the videotape I sent her home. She had explicit orders to drive safely, and I made sure she knew I still loved her.

After disabling the only phone in the place, I snapped his car keys in two. Then I gathered all of his clothes that I could find. After tying his ankles together and soaking the knots with water, I untied SFB’s arms and left him on the bed. Oh, I did a few other little mean things, like turning off his hot water heater and leaving the hot water running in the kitchen sink, and taking the float out of the toilet cistern. Just little mean things that I’m really not too proud of now, but really liked thinking about when I did them.

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After letting the lard pile know about the tape, and letting him know how widely I could distribute it if he bothered me or Alice again, I left taking with me all the formatted zip drives and floppies. On the way home I left the bundle of SFB’s clothes in a Salvation Army drop off site.

Oh yeah! You probably want to know about the address book. That was pretty satisfying work. There weren’t many names in there, but some were pretty interesting. There were seven names listed under ‘S’. Alice’s was next to the last to be listed. All the names were women, none of the names began in ‘S’, either the first or last names. And they all had little symbols next to them.

I called the first one at 9:30 the next morning and got a very timid woman’s voice on the line. I introduced myself, and asked if she knew a man named ____ . The poor thing choked back a sob and said, “Yes.”

Speaking quietly, trying to calm her down, I asked if she would prefer not to hear from ___ again. She asked me what she had to do.

Telling her she had to do nothing. But if he called her again to tell him she had videotape that she was going to release if he bothered her again. She was to refuse any of ______’s demands. If she wanted any more details I would be glad to meet her at a restaurant of her choice. With a tremulous voice she mentioned a Denny’s not too far from my house and I made a date to meet her there that evening.

I met with her, and met separately with all but one of the other women listed in the book under S. One phone had been disconnected. In each case I told the woman that I had ‘discussed’ ___’s relationships, and if the man ever contacted them again to tell him that his vegetable chef told them SFB was not to contact them again. If he did the chef would see that SFB’s demonstration video was released in volume and a complete copy would be sent to everyone in his address book.

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When I told them they were free from his harassment each of the women, broke into tears.

All of the women were attractive, all were wearing wedding rings. They all looked like soccer moms to me. I let none of them tell me how they had gotten into SFB’s hands, but gave each of them the option of letting me tell other women on the list that they would like to talk to others that bad been caught up in his clutches. They all gave me permission to do so, including Alice.

My wife has talked to several of the others, and tells me they will be holding a meeting in our home in two weeks. She plans to send the kids to the grandparents that night, but has asked me to stay home. My instructions are to remain in the den unless she comes to get me. Alice feels the women will want to meet me. If any of them don’t want to do so, then I should be sure I have a good book in the den with me. She tells me it may be a long night. Something about forming a survival group to support one another.

= = = = = =

Oh, you probably want to know what Alice did to get into such a mess. Damned if I know. I love the woman, and know she loves me. I don’t plan to ask her.

She did start to tell me that night when I got home, but I wouldn’t let her.

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However she got herself into that pickle it wasn’t something that didn’t have a rational and OK explanation. I expect she may insist on telling me sometime in the future but I don’t really care what it was.

And you know what? I would bet everything I own that she’ll never get in that kind of a fix again. In a way, I really am making that bet.

And as I said, I never bet except on sure things.

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