My Rocky Relationship with Sheila–Part 1 of 4

NOTE: This is a love story that has threads of BDSM running through it, including real cruelty and torture. Please be advised it is not for everyone. Like all of my stories that, as well as the sex, is an integral part of the story’s plot.

INTRODUCTION: This is the story of Sheila and Tom Hamilton—of their marriage, divorce, and reconciliation as Tom slowly finds the way to forgiveness. He goes through a living hell at the hands of his wife and her lover until he is able to turn the tables on them and exact his revenge. He thinks he hates Sheila until he finds the true love that has been at his fingertips all along.

CHAPTER 1

Sheila’s told me probably a hundred times that I sleep like I’m dead. There isn’t much that will wake me, often not even the alarm, and probably not even an earthquake. She wakes me by shaking me violently in frustration as the alarm continues its horrible intermittent blaring. I guess she proved it last night—I was really changed when I woke up this morning. I went to scratch my balls, and when I did I noticed something was drastically different. I hurried to the bathroom to check out the mirror and take a piss. “Fuck!” I had to sit down to pee. My pubic area had been completely shaved and my cock was encased in a stainless steel cage.

I flushed once I was done and went to find my wife. She was, not surprisingly, seated in front of her computer. “Okay, want to tell me what’s going on? What’s with this thing? Would you please take it off?”

“Sure, but first I want you to kneel right here next to me.” She swiveled her chair and pointed to the space just in front of her.

“Just take it off, will you, please?”

“Sorry, but you have to kneel. Then I promise to remove it.”

“Okay, I’ll play along,” I said resignedly. I knelt right in front of her. Rather than just remove it she got up and stepped behind me. She distracted me by kissing and nuzzling my neck. The next thing I knew my hands were secured in handcuffs, not tightly, but tight enough that I wasn’t going to get them off. Once that was done she moved back to handcuff my ankles. Again, I wasn’t uncomfortable, but I clearly wasn’t going anywhere.

“Okay, I promised I’d remove this and now I will.” I was about to complain when she put her fingers to my mouth. I stopped, expecting her to continue. “I’m going to lower your head to the floor. Be careful, I don’t want to hurt you.” I was in place a minute later and I could feel the cage being removed. Somehow I wasn’t all that relieved. I knew I was in a vulnerable position and I had real fear as to what Sheila was up to. I was furious with Sheila and I’d be even more with myself for allowing myself to be so easily tricked in just another minute.

She leaned on my back and I felt her hand encircle my scrotum. She massaged my balls; it felt great and I groaned in appreciation and anticipation. I wanted to fuck my wife something awful. She pulled my sac down and between my legs. I couldn’t see what was happening, but I knew from my online readings that she had placed me into a humbler. I was fucked big time.

Sheila returned to her chair and freed my wrists and ankles. I pushed my body up, but not too far. The humbler insured that. “Now I’ll explain. I obviously couldn’t put that on you while you were sleeping. You could have really hurt and damaged yourself.

“Thanks to a program I installed I’ve had the opportunity over the past few months to review every single thing you’ve done on your laptop—every keystroke and every internet site. I see you like those BDSM sites a lot—three or four times a day at least, and every time you go there you pick a femdom story, one in which a dominant woman—that’s me—enslaves a submissive male—that’s you.”

“What are you talking about, Sheila? So I enjoy reading about that stuff, so what? Those stories are just a way to pass time; they’re fiction, nothing more.”

“You can deny it, but I do believe you’d love to submit to me and we’ll have all the next week to find out how badly you want it. I phoned your office late last night and left a message that you need a week’s vacation for a family emergency. I’ve taken the week off, too. The humbler you’re in is a special trainer that I can use to reinforce my will. Here, I’ll show you.” She held up a remote and pressed the button. I felt a minor shock run through my balls. I felt it, but it didn’t hurt too badly.

“That was what the manufacturer calls the ‘reminder’ setting. There are ten higher that will definitely hurt you, but I hope not to use them too often. Be assured, though that I will if necessary. Get used to the idea of crawling. You’ll do it for the next seven or eight days, at least.”

“Sheila, just because I like those stories doesn’t mean I want to be your or anyone’s slave. I read a lot of murder mysteries, too. Surely you don’t think I want to be murdered, do you? There’s only one outcome for this—you’re going to destroy us. I love you now, but if you do this I’ll hate you at week’s end.”

“I thought you’d say something like that so I’m not at all surprised. I think in time you’ll really enjoy serving me—not everything, of course, but that’s the nature of life. We never enjoy everything, do we? Since you’re down there why don’t you start by adoring my feet?” I looked at her as though she was crazy, but lowered my head to the floor. I kissed every one of her toes and licked the soles of her feet when she lifted them. All told I spent more than twenty minutes servicing her feet. I was thankful she’d showered just last night.

“Okay,” she told me, “you can stop now. Follow me into the bathroom.” She rose and walked away. I was silent as I crawled, but inside I was seething. I doubted I had ever been so angry. She led me into the shower where she removed her slacks and panties. It’s big and we had often enjoyed showering together, but not today. “Be careful…I want your mouth over my pussy. I’m going to piss into your mouth and you’re going to swallow it. I would if I was you. You’ll lick up anything that spills.” Shaking my head, I refused. This wasn’t anything close to my idea of fun and I wasn’t going to do it. I thought the idea was absolutely disgusting. I lay on the tile floor with my head down. I wasn’t being submissive—she couldn’t piss into my mouth in this position.

Then she shocked me. The pain in my balls was unbelievable. It was like being kicked or hit there by a baseball. I fell to the floor in agony. Worse, my first reaction was to extend my legs nearly ripping my balls from my body. I screamed in anguish. “I told you I’d hurt you if necessary. I don’t want to, but I will if you fail to obey. Now move your mouth to my pussy.” I was in a world of pain, but still I refused. She shocked me again and at a higher level. I fell again to the floor screaming.

“Let me correct myself,” I groaned once I had regained my breath. “I won’t hate you by week’s end—I hate you now. I hope you realize that doing this is illegal. It’s assault at a minimum and probably even sexual assault. You’ll be branded as a sex offender for the rest of your life.”

“First of all, you’d never press charges against me so don’t even think of threatening me. I’ll really shock you if you ever say something like that again. Either get up here and take it like a man or I’ll get serious. You’ve only been shocked at level two. Want to try level four or five?” I knew when I was beaten. I staggered up to my hands and knees and sealed my mouth around her cunt.

“I’m being easy on you this time. I went when I got up so there’ll only be a little and the rate should be slow, too.” I wasn’t at all reassured, but I had no choice. I opened my mouth and cringed as I waited. I hated the taste–God, it was awful– but she was right. There wasn’t much and it came slowly. Finally, it was done. I had hated it almost as much as I now hated her and I wasn’t looking forward to the next episode. She patted my head like I was some kind of dog and led me into our bedroom. Well, it was “our” bedroom and “our” bed this morning. Who knew what it would be tonight?

I remained stationary outside her closet while she retrieved something. Oh great—it was a dog collar that she fastened tightly around my neck, even locking it in place so I couldn’t remove it. She attached a leash and led me around the house, even taking me outside where I was told to do my business. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I already went. That damned thing made me sit like a woman.” She zapped again, but this time it was only a reminder.

“You know how I hate profanity and it’s disrespectful, too. You need to call me ‘Mistress’ whenever you speak which I’m sure you know from your reading should be infrequently. In fact, keep quiet unless I ask you a direct question.” She fingered the remote as she asked if I understood.

“Yes, Mistress,” I replied.

“See, you’re learning already.” She beamed with pride at her obvious dominance. I remained silent, but inside I was fuming. I wasn’t kidding about hating her. Any love I’d had for her had vanished over the last hour.

She walked me all around the back yard, even telling me to “heel” like I was her dog. I struggled to keep up with her—the humbler restricted the length of my “doggie” stride. Once she was inside she learned the problems of having me in a humbler all the time. I couldn’t do anything while I was kneeling and if she removed the humbler I’d rebel for sure. I sat quietly in the kitchen while she made the lunch. She nuked some canned ravioli for me and dumped it into a dog’s dish. I ate like a dog, making a mess of my face and the floor. I raised my hand like a schoolchild once I was done.

“Yes, slave…you may speak.”

“May I please have something to clean my face and the floor…Mistress?”

“Oh, you’re progressing so nicely, aren’t you?” I had the answer to that and it definitely wasn’t yes. I had no choice but to play along and wait for my chance to get her. That would happen, but I had no idea when. She handed me a few moistened paper towels and I cleaned my mess, placing the spent towels in the trash once everything was clean.

After lunch she led me back into the living room where she forced me over the ottoman, securing my wrists and knees to the legs. I was totally immobilized. “Now it’s time for your afternoon beating. I’m going to gag you this time although later I think I’d love to hear your pleading and screaming. You’ll know who the boss is after this, but first….” She removed the humbler and massaged my balls. “You’d better be good if you want to keep these. It would be so convenient to castrate you, especially since you’re unlikely to use your cock in my service. I’m sure you know that Mistresses never fuck their slaves.” Now I was really worried where this was going. I knew she’d have to release me next weekend so I could go to work. Sheila also worked, but for her church which paid peanuts, while I was a very successful account executive earning well over $175,000 a year. If I had to I’d wait until then to get my revenge. In the meantime I’d play a role and do whatever was necessary to get by and survive. I was praying she’d make a mistake, but so far I was stuck.

She held up a ball gag. I opened my mouth apparently obediently and she strapped it tightly around my head. It was probably a good thing that she had gagged me. She hit my ass with something that hurt me terribly. It was a thick wooden paddle about two feet long and six inches wide with holes drilled into it—maybe twenty or more from my brief glance. Again and again she beat me. It went on for more than a half hour from what I could see of the living room clock. I thought she must have struck me two hundred times at least. I could barely breathe when she was done. I only knew that I was in terrible pain and I was bawling—had been almost since the beating had begun.

“You are such a baby, slave. Your ass is bleeding all over my carpet. I just love your agony. My pussy is so wet. I can’t wait until tonight. Wait until you see what I have planned for you then.” She laughed and laughed, so much that I began to question her sanity. Sheila removed the gag then walked to the kitchen where I heard her on the phone, chatting and laughing. She returned a few minutes later with a sponge and some paper towels. “I treated this especially for you—I wouldn’t want you to get an infection.” She laughed again as she applied the vinegar-soaked sponge to my ass. I screamed from the burning pain as she laughed again. She showed me the red blood-stained towels after wiping my cheeks dry. I couldn’t hate her more than I did at that instant. That’s what I thought, but I was wrong. I’d hate Sheila much more by the time I was freed.

She came back once she had disposed of the towels to sit in the adjacent chair. She crossed her legs, sitting back to relax, a broad smile on her face. “You know, slave—I can’t really call you Tom any more, can I? You’re not really my husband, are you? Anyway, slave I enjoyed hurting you so much, even more than I ever imagined. It made me so excited I almost came; maybe I will when I use the cane or crop on you, although I suppose I’ll have to be careful not to injure you too badly. It won’t do me any good if all you can do is lie on the floor. You just rest for a bit then I’ll let you finish off my pussy with your mouth. I’m sure you’ll enjoy that much more than being beaten. I was going to beat you again tonight after dinner, but I doubt you could handle it. You really do have to work out a bit more—you’re as soft as a girl. Don’t worry, though—you’ll get plenty of exercise doing housework and laundry every day after work. I’ll make sure you exercise, too. You’ll need to keep your strength up for all the future beatings you’ll endure.

“I guess you haven’t enjoyed too much of this have you?” I didn’t know if I was supposed to answer so I kept my mouth shut. Of course, it was the wrong choice. She hit me again with the paddle—only once, but that was enough. “I asked you a question. That means you answer.”

“No, Mistress I haven’t enjoyed any of this.”

“No, but you will. In time you’ll live to take care of me. You’ll derive great personal satisfaction from pleasing me. Who knows, maybe I’ll even let you have an occasional spurt. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress I would.”

“Just keep that in mind if you want to keep those things. The happier you make me the longer they’ll be a part of you. Would you like some water? I’m thinking you’re probably thirsty.”

“Yes…please, Mistress.” I could play this game and I would, but only as long as I had to. She walked to the kitchen and returned with a small bottle, placing it on the floor in front of me. She replaced the humbler which hurt terribly as it pressed into the crease between my aching butt and my thighs before untying my left hand.

“Untie yourself then you can drink.” I struggled with the bonds on my right hand, but five minutes later it was free. It was actually harder to reach back to free my knees, especially since I was physically unable to raise my torso above horizontal. I tried to sit, but I couldn’t because of the pain. Drinking from the bottle was almost impossible while on my hands and knees. I barely got a third of the water and realized that was exactly what Sheila had in mind when she began laughing at my plight again. She took the water from me and told me to crawl to the corner and to keep my nose into the seam. That was harder than I had thought; I had to keep my head up. She gave me “reminders” twice when my head dropped and the third time she zapped me good. I wondered where she was getting these ideas from. Truthfully, Sheila isn’t all that bright. I was counting on that—counting that she’d fuck up and I’d be able to get free.

She finally released me from position just before dinner. I was sure she would have preferred that I do the cooking and cleaning, but that was one of the problems of having me on my hands and knees. I was surprised when she cooked only a single strip steak. Then she poured some dry dog food into a bowl. “Since you don’t like drinking my piss from my cunt let’s see if you like it any better on your food. Trust me it’s the only thing you’ll get to eat until you’ve finished it. I don’t care if you do it now or tomorrow morning or even Wednesday, but you are going to eat it.” I wasn’t eager for dog food, especially with piss on it, but I knew I’d need my strength if I was ever going to escape her clutches.

I moved forward to eat as soon as she finished pissing. It was just as bad as I had expected, but I was very hungry. After dinner Sheila took me out back where she hosed me down then cuffed me again behind my back and tied my leash to the heavy patio table. “I’ll let you back in once you’re dry,” she told me, leaving me wet and cold in the chilly evening air. She returned almost an hour later dressed in sexier lingerie than she ever wore for me. I thought now that I knew why this was happening—she was having an affair and this was how she could justify it. My thoughts were confirmed when she led me back to the bedroom, knee walking me all the way, my aching back hunched forward for both balance and to protect my aching balls. My knees were throbbing; I wasn’t used to being on them for an hour let alone all day. She tied my leash to the bedpost and my wrists tightly to the heavy dresser behind me. I was stuck in position. I couldn’t move more than a few inches in any direction. I supposed it could have been worse—she could have tied off my balls. God knows I’d read plenty of stories where that was done.

I wasn’t at all surprised when the doorbell rang. She walked back in to the bedroom beaming as though she had just won an Academy Award. “Here he is, Ronny. I’ve had such fun with him all day. He’s been a bit temperamental, but it’s only his first day after all. Oh, hold on a minute, I want to gag my slave so he doesn’t interrupt us.” She produced the ball gag once again and I thought it was the lesser evil to just accept it. I opened my mouth. “See how obedient he’s becoming.” She locked the gag around my head before continuing, “You are to keep your eyes on us. I’ll shock you if I see your eyes closed or your head turned. This is an important part of your submissiveness to me. I already told you that your sex life was over. Any orgasms you have from now on will be at my whim. Once you’re completely broken it will be the cock cage for you every day unless I say otherwise.” I was wrong. I could hate Sheila more than I did earlier—much more.

I watched in silence as Sheila removed Ronny’s clothing. Personally, I wasn’t all that impressed. He was older and thinner than me with slouched shoulders, had a paunch and his cock was much smaller and thinner than mine. If she wanted this loser she could have him, but I’d get both of them before I was done.
Sheila fell back onto the bed, waving Ronny to follow her. He moved between her legs, rolled her nipples between his fingers and moved into her in a single thrust. I guessed that I could do the same if my cock was as thin as his was. He fucked her for less than five minutes before cumming weakly into her cunt. I could see that she had not experienced anything remotely close to an orgasm. He moved off, breathing heavily, to rest—what a loser! Sheila walked over to me, removed the gag and told me to open up. “No fucking way,” I thought. “Go ahead and shock me.” I had sold electrical equipment for more than a dozen years and I had figured out that I could run the battery down if only I could stand the shocks.

Sheila was pissed that she couldn’t show off her slave for her boyfriend so, as expected, she shocked me. I would have fallen to the floor had I been able. A few minutes later I was told to open up and again I refused. “Okay…it’s level four for you. Personally, I hope those things fry. It would serve you right.” She hit the remote again; my balls felt like they had exploded, but I did survive. I’d survive everything she could do to me. This time I did open my mouth and clean her cunt. “Why do you have to do this to yourself? You know you’re going to give in. While you’re there you can give me an orgasm or two. Then I’ll have Ronny fuck me again.”

I licked her cunt for almost half an hour giving her the orgasms dear old Ronny couldn’t. In the process I also swallowed all her secretions and the small amount of semen he had deposited, too. She left me after two orgasms and returned to the bed where she and Ronny made out for some time. I had no idea exactly how long; Sheila had turned both clocks away from me. It hurt me terribly to see the woman I had loved for years in the arms of another man. I would have killed both of them if I had been able to get free.

Finally, Sheila took the initiative and rolled Ronny onto his back, straddled his hips and dropped down onto him. All the time she stared straight into my eyes as though to demean and belittle me as a person and a man. I guessed I was neither in her mind. I was only her subhuman slave, a role I’d have to play for now.
Sheila rocked on Ronny’s cock; he rubbed her breasts and pinched her nipples. They became separated several times due to the small size of his organ and his inability to sustain his erection. This time Sheila did manage to cum only, I thought, because of his inability to orgasm again. Frankly, I thought their mating was just pitiful. Once again Sheila came to me to be cleaned; once again I refused and she shocked me—twice—at a high level before I relented. My balls ached, but I’d made her shock me seven times today along with four “reminders.” I couldn’t see the batteries lasting much longer. Skin is a natural insulator, conducting electricity only when wet and, even then, there was a lot of resistance, more than people realized. As I thought about the humbler I understood that this was probably made for short-term use, but I doubted that Sheila would realize that.

Ronny left once I had licked Sheila clean a second time. It wasn’t late by normal standards, but I had been on hands and knees the entire day. I was exhausted. Sensing this Sheila moved me to the foot of the bed where she placed me on my side, checked my handcuffs and connected them to the bed frame by a short chain. “You haven’t earned a blanket or a pillow, slave. You’ll need to do a lot better tomorrow and in the future to earn either one. If you continue to defy me I’ll place you in the basement where it’s cold and damp. Let’s see how you enjoy that.” Personally, I thought that was a great idea; I could have hours away from her and maybe—just maybe—I could figure out a way to get out of this damned thing. I fell asleep quickly despite my uncomfortable bondage.

CHAPTER 2

The following two days were more of the same except that she added clothespins to my nipples, keeping them on for an hour or more in the morning and again after my “delicious” doggie lunch. Again I refused to accept her urine, making her shock me three times each day and at a higher level than on Saturday, my first day as a “slave.” She didn’t beat my ass on Sunday or Monday, but she did strike my back and thighs a hundred times each day, first with a riding crop and the next day with a bamboo cane. My entire body was bruised and I could barely move when she was done. I was thankful I was on the ottoman. That probably saved me from even worse injuries to the front of my body.

At each meal I was forced to eat dry dog food usually covered and drenched with her urine. The food, not intended for human consumption, gave me horrible diarrhea on top of my other injuries. I ate for one reason only—to maintain my strength. I realized then that I’d probably be completely broken if I had to endure much more of this. No man could long survive this kind of treatment. Ronny came each evening to make love to my ex-wife, repeating their activities of the first liaison. Both days he insisted on videoing the night’s festivities, positioning the camera so I could be clearly seen bound and gagged, the crippling humbler in full view, beyond the bed, the horrid colors on my back and thighs vivid in the camera. They played the video back afterwards then fucked again while I was forced to watch both the live version and the recording. Sheila told me I’d be watching the DVD’s often to reinforce my “submissive behavior.” I refused to clean her, forcing her to shock me another three times before I relented. She shocked me eleven times on Sunday and twelve on Monday. The shocks were severe, but I was sure they couldn’t continue like this much longer. Then on Tuesday Sheila finally made a mistake.

We needed food so she had to go to the supermarket. She left me securely fastened in the bedroom on my hands and knees—dog collar to the headboard, humbler to the dresser–but with my wrists handcuffed in front of my body. Once she was gone I leaned forward and to the left, pulling on the collar and forcing my head into the bed for support then I was able to reach between my legs for the humbler. I thought I might be able to turn it and free it from my body. I knew that skin was extremely elastic. I was sure that having my scrotum in a humbler every day without pause had stretched it. At least that was my theory. Pushing on the humbler would still hurt like crazy, but I doubted it would be any worse than some of the high-level shocks Sheila had delivered.

I found the nefarious device easily with my hands and, grasping each side, slowly began to push and turn it from perpendicular to my body to parallel. Truthfully, it hurt like hell, but after five minutes it was hanging loosely from my scrotum in front of my thighs where I was able to untie its rope. Now able to stand, I removed the clip from my collar and was free for the first time in more than seventy-two hours. I stretched and examined my knees. They were understandably red and sore with numerous scratches from my forays to the back yard across the concrete patio. Now my only question was how to get my revenge.

I started in my sock drawer, easily finding a compression sock that had been prescribed by my doctor for the long airplane trips I sometimes had to take as part of my job. It was both extremely strong and flexible. Next I found a fistful of steel washers in a cabinet by my workbench. They must have weighed two pounds, at least. I tied off the sock with a simple overhand knot and was ready for Sheila’s return. I’d have to immobilize her to avoid what could be a potentially paralyzing shock even as the humbler hung in front of my body. I could have sawed the lock off, but I was afraid she’d discover me before I was done. Then she’d shock me repeatedly to get me under control again and I doubted I could survive that. No—patience would be the way now. I stood naked in the kitchen, still handcuffed, behind the door to the garage. Sheila walked in, her hands laden with bags, when I reared back and swung my weapon. It struck the back of her head and she toppled swiftly to the floor.

I was on her in a second and dragged her to the ottoman where I tied her wrists and knees to its legs. Once she was secured I was free to search for the keys. I found the handcuff keys in her purse, but not the key to the lock that secured the humbler. That was okay; I knew how to get it. Her torture weapons were in her closet. I walked there easily despite the humbler banging against my thighs. I returned only a minute later with the paddle and the ball gag.

Sheila was still unconscious when I returned, but not for long. I reared back and blistered her ass, ramming the gag into her mouth when she opened to scream. There was genuine fear in her eyes and for good reason. I planned on getting even—and then some—with both of my antagonists. “Now that I have your attention Sheila I can explain what’s going to happen. I’m going to beat your nice plump ass and I’m going to ask you some questions. If I get the answers I want I’ll limit you to another dozen. If I don’t I’ll keep it up until I get tired.” She tried to speak—tried to say she’d tell me the truth now, but I wasn’t ready and I wasn’t interested.

I belted her eleven more times and she was in tears after the second, frantic for me to stop. I removed the gag, waiting for her gasping to end. ‘Okay, I’m ready for my first question. What happens now will depend on you. How long have you been fucking Ronny?”

“About three months now.” I was shocked although I couldn’t imagine why. What a duplicitous bitch my wife was.

“Why? From what I could see he’s lousy in the sack.”

“He’s rich, much richer than we’d ever be.”

“Haven’t I provided enough for you?”

“I always thought so until he became interested in me. Please don’t hit me any more!”

“Interesting comment considering how you beat the living shit out of me over the last three days; take a good look at my body. There’s hardly a square inch in back that isn’t bruised or welted and purple or yellow or blue. That remark is going to cost you another ten. Now…how did this start?”

“When I took my car into the dealership for service; he owns the dealership. He bought me coffee and some doughnuts. He was very charming and next thing I knew we were in a motel. I found the idea of cheating on you exciting. He wanted me.”

“I also wanted you, not that it seemed to matter. Whose idea was it to make me your slave?”

“Ronny’s—he’s really into power and control. I offered to just divorce you, but he wanted more.”

“So you just did it and all that bullshit about me wanting to be submissive was just more bullshit, wasn’t it?”

“Yes…I’m sorry.”

“Great…that will cost you another ten, but you can believe me–it will be nothing compared to what will happen tonight when shithead shows up.” I put the gag back into her mouth and returned to her spanking, but this time I spread them out for maximum effect. Then I asked her about the key for the humbler.

“I don’t have it,” she said between sobs and gasps. “Ronny does; it’s on his key ring.” I gave her a look of disgust, but said nothing. I continued the paddling after reinserting the gag. This time I paddled her quickly so I could get out to the garage and saw this monstrosity from my body. I found an old plastic milk crate and, standing on it, I could just get the padlock into my vise. From there it was only a matter of a few minutes work with my hacksaw before the lock’s shackle separated. I twisted it off the hasps and, with a sigh of relief, pulled that fucking thing from my body. My scrotum was bruised and burnt and tender from the shocks; my balls were black and blue and sore from the torture. I returned to the house, walked into the bathroom, and rubbed some medicated body lotion into my sensitive skin. I took three ibuprofen tablets then I dressed for the first time since Friday night.

I returned to the living room clad in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I also wore the softest pair of underwear I could find. “I’m going to stash you in the basement, but first I’ll make a deal with you. Either you write a note for me or I give you another twenty.” I already knew what she would do—another twenty would destroy her, although that wouldn’t be so bad either. I brought out a clipboard with a sheet of paper and a pen before releasing her right hand. She wrote what I recited and then I handcuffed her behind her back, allowing her to use the toilet before moving her to the basement. I removed her left-hand cuff and reattached it around one of the steel supports that held up the central beam of the house. She was going nowhere and her pleading eyes would get her no sympathy from me—not after her treatment of me over the past three and a half days.

I relaxed with a cold beer before making dinner—steak and baked potato. I gave Sheila the dog bowl full of yummy nutritious dog food and another almost full of water. I didn’t piss on it although I was tempted. I wasn’t going to stoop to her level—not until my other guest arrived. After dinner I taped the note—Ronny darling, the door is open. Come in. I have a big surprise for you. Love, Sheila. I retired to the garage where I could see his car drive up the driveway. Then I’d give him the same treatment I’d given my wife, plus a whole lot more.

He arrived just after eight, exactly as expected while I hurried to the front door even as he exited his car, an expensive Lincoln SUV. I hid behind the door–ours is solid oak with just a small horizontal window almost six feet from the base. I heard him approach then pause as he read the note. He chuckled, I assumed in anticipation of a fun evening at my expense. He opened the door, took but two short steps and dropped like a rock as my homemade sap contacted his temple. I dragged his limp body to the ottoman. He was securely tied to the legs less than two minutes later. Down to the basement I went to retrieve my slut whore wife, thinking it would so much more fun to torture dear sweet Ronny while she watched. After all, he had watched while she tortured me.

I sat Sheila just in front of my new captive with her hands locked around the frame of the coffee table. It was heavy and there was no way she could move it to escape. Using a razor knife from my workbench I quickly cut Ronny’s clothes from his body. He was just coming around when I tied a knot in a strip from his pant leg to gag him and shocked him to consciousness with a sharp blow from the paddle.

Now that I had his attention I moved to phase two–pulling his ball sac much harder than was necessary between his legs and locking the humbler around it. I have a big drawer out in the garage just loaded with all kinds of batteries. I had replaced the nine-volt that was almost expended with a brand spanking new one. The lock from the outside basement door sealed his fate. As much fear as I had seen in Sheila’s eyes earlier, Ronny’s held so much more. He knew the potential of the humbler. “Well, well…shall we try it on level four? No? Okay, level five it is.” I made a production of adjusting the remote before pressing the button. It hit him so hard he arched his back in spite of his tight bondage. He had barely recovered when I pressed the button again. The next time it was on level six. Slowly over the next two hours I moved all the way up to level ten. He pulled against the ottoman’s legs. I could smell flesh burning after I hit him at ten a second time. I stopped for a while; he had passed out.

I moved over to Sheila and knelt beside her. “Fun, isn’t it? Care to try? I bet I can get one of your tits locked in there. There’ll still be plenty of time to play with Ronny after he wakes up.” She shook her head frantically as I continued, “It would have been so much better if you had just asked for a divorce, wouldn’t it? I’m just getting started with Ronny. Don’t forget, I have all week thanks to you. He’ll be long gone before the weekend, though.” I moved back to Ronny; he was still out cold so I put some ice cubes into a plastic bag, placing it on the back of his neck. He reacted quickly.

“Okay, Ronny I think we can take a break from the humbler, but don’t think I’m anywhere close to done with you.” I removed the humbler, but brought out the paddle. I hit his skinny butt nonstop for more than twenty minutes. He was a blubbering fool by the time I had finished. “Okay, Sheila I’m going to give you something special now.” I removed her from the coffee table, turning her so she lay over the top. She was in this position when I tied each of her wrists to the legs.

“What’s the one form of sex that most men want, but few actually get, Sheila? What have you absolutely refused me?” Her eyes became as big as saucers as the realization hit her. “Normally I’d take great care not to hurt you, but now I just don’t give a shit. What’s the worst you could do—divorce me? That’s going to happen anyway, but on my terms, not yours. Did you know that a husband legally cannot rape his wife in this state? I stripped, stroked my cock to hardness—it didn’t take much—and pushed, as forcefully as my aching back and butt would allow, into Sheila’s formerly virgin asshole. “Oh God Sheila, you’re so fucking tight. I should have done this to you years ago.” I pulled back and pushed home again. Sheila howled in pain or she would have if she weren’t gagged. My only regret was that I came quickly, bathing her rectum in my cream. There was blood on my cock when I pulled it from her ass. I left her there to sob in agony while I returned to beat her erstwhile lover.

This time I beat him with the cane leaving deep dark red welts all over his back and legs. It was almost midnight by the time I was done with him. He was as weak as a kitten when I released him, handcuffing him behind his back with the second set of cuffs. I marched him to the basement where I chained him to one of the steel supports. A minute later Sheila joined him, but at another support about twenty feet away. There was no way these two were going to touch each other.

I went through Ronny’s pockets after getting another beer. How interesting–there were photos of him with a woman and an emergency notification card with his wife’s name and phone number on it. That should make for an interesting day tomorrow. I showered and went to bed, sleeping once again like the dead.

CHAPTER 3

I woke at eight and despite my urgent need to piss I brought Sheila up to use the toilet first. She still wasn’t able to actually sit, but she was able to relieve herself and even shit. She cried when I refused to wipe her. “Not to worry,” I told her, “I’ll hose you down later. That’ll get you clean. Maybe I’ll give you an enema so you’ll be squeaky clean for our next fucking session.” I laughed maniacally at her reaction. I went down for Ronny after securing Sheila to the coffee table.

I made Ronny squat, too, but unlike Sheila I took him out into the chilly morning air for a hose-down. He was shivering wildly before I was even half done. Kneeling with his wrists handcuffed behind his back and his leash tied securely to the heavy patio table, I shocked him just for the fun of it. I made breakfast—a half pound of bacon, a cheese omelet, and coffee; it felt great to eat real food again. Sheila ate another bowl of kibble and I carried one out to Ronny. He screamed and swore when his mouth was free. No problem—I zapped him a good one in the balls. I had just finished eating when I dialed the phone.

“Hello, is this Mrs. Ronald Marlowe?”

(“Yes, it is.”)

“My name is Tom Williams. You don’t know me, but we have something very much in common—cheating spouses.” I hesitated to see if she would respond. She did—a groan. “Please don’t hang up, Mrs. Marlowe. I can prove what I’m saying. In fact, if you’d come to my home you can see the video they made and your lying scumbag husband, too. He’s here now although he’s not too comfortable. I have him on his knees out on my patio, wrists handcuffed behind his back and tied to my table. I’ll bring him in soon and then it will be back over my ottoman for a good whipping.”

(“I think I’d like to see that. How do I know I can trust you?”)

“I understand your concern, but I’m only interested in harming your husband and my wife. You have nothing to fear from me and, if you come, you’ll also see that you have nothing to fear from your husband either. That I guarantee.”

(“How?”)

“Know what a humbler is?”

(“No.”)

“It’s a device that hold’s a man’s balls tightly behind his legs making it impossible for him to stand. This one has an electrical shocking mechanism. My wife tricked me into it, but I figured out a way to get out and turned the tables on the two of them. I was their prisoner; now they’re mine. They tortured me; now I’m torturing them.” She agreed to come and I gave her the directions. Our town isn’t all that big so she said she could be here in about a half hour. I moved my prisoner back to the ottoman, securing his knees first so he couldn’t even think of getting away. I shocked him on level eight just before releasing him. It made the job of tying him up so much easier. I was just about to sit on the couch when the doorbell rang.

Despite the small wallet photos I had no idea what to expect so I was surprised to see a tall and extremely attractive brunette I guessed might be in her mid to late thirties waiting for me. “Hi, I’m Tom. Thanks for coming.” I stepped back to allow her to enter. “May I take your jacket? How about a cup of coffee while we watch the video?”

“Yes, thank you—light, one sugar.” She followed me into the living room, stopping short when she saw my naked wife cuffed to the table and her equally naked husband tied over the ottoman. “Oh, my! What a sight. Hello, dear. I guess this is that thing you told me about, the…?”

“Humbler—see how nice and tight his balls are in here.” I gave them a quick flick with my finger. “This is the battery compartment and here’s the remote. Why don’t you give him a few for starters?” I showed her the remote and the different settings. She had shocked him twice by the time I had poured the coffee and was just starting a third when I had returned. We sat back on the couch while I turned on the TV and started the video. I stopped it several times when she asked questions. She asked me to replay it. I watched her and as I did I wondered why anyone would be inclined to cheat on her. She was extremely good looking and had the long slender body type I’d always found attractive and sexy. Her breasts seemed to fit her body, probably B-cups. The overall package was very enticing. Of course, even the most attractive woman can be a real bitch, but so far she had shown nothing that might lead me to that conclusion.

She asked if she could question Sheila when the video ended. I agreed, telling Sheila I’d not only beat her again, but I’d fuck her ass again,too if she hesitated or if I thought she was lying. Sheila nodded her assent and I removed the ball gag, helping her to flex her jaws and offering her a glass of ice water. “Thank you, Tom. I’m really sorry about this whole mess.” Slowly, under Mrs. Marlowe’s steady questioning all the sordid details of the affair were revealed—how they had met, where, how often, even what they did sexually. I found it interesting that there had been absolutely no social interaction whatsoever—no lunches or dinners, not even the occasional drink. All they did was fuck and they did that often. In fact, Sheila had fucked Ronny roughly twice as often as she did me, her own husband, over the past three months.

“Any other questions, Mrs. Marlowe?”

“I think you should call me Rita. After all this I can’t see any reason for formality, especially for the man who has freed me.”

“Excuse me?”

“When Ronald and I were married he forced me to sign an extremely restrictive pre-nup. I’ve known something was going on—Ronald was rarely home–but I had no idea what. If I asked for a divorce I’d certainly wind up broke even though Ronald is a millionaire many times over. Now I’m sure things are going to change. My only question is what to do with the loser over there.”

“Well, Rita my first thought was to drive him out into the distant woods up in the Adirondacks and see if he could crawl back to civilization before the bears or the wolves got him, but now that you’re here maybe you have a better idea.”

“I certainly do.” And then she told me of her plan. I had to laugh. I agreed to keep dear old Ronny here for a few days until she made the necessary preparations. Based on her comments I thought she’d torture him and force him to change the pre-nup—that’s what I would have done. She returned Saturday morning. Ronny was still in the humbler and I had replaced the battery. Rita backed her car into my garage. He staggered up a ramp I had built and tumbled into the trunk. He wasn’t quite as cocky now as he was when we had first met. In fact, he was downright submissive. Maybe he knew what Rita had in store for him. I used a pair of cutting pliers to break the emergency trunk release, knowing that their dealership would fix it easily. I handed the remote to Rita and waved as she drove back down the drive, turning back the way she had come only a few moments earlier. I agreed to drop Ronny’s car back at her house the following day, arranging for a cab to return me home.

In the interim I had dealt with my lying bitch whore wife. I had phoned the office on Thursday morning asking if my assistant could drop by in the afternoon. She said she would come as soon as she was able to get away. She phoned around 4:30 saying she had permission to leave early to accommodate me.
I greeted Nan at the door. “I’m glad your emergency is over.”

“Yeah…me too, although the ‘emergency’ was nothing you’d ever imagine. Come on in and I’ll show you. She gasped when she saw Sheila naked and bound and gagged over the ottoman. “Here, have a seat and I’ll explain what’s going on. Actually, I think it would be better to show you.” I turned on the TV and video, just as I had done for Rita. Nan sat, mouth dropping every other second as she watched Sheila fuck another man and torture me. Just when she thought it was over it began again—Sunday night’s festivities. Nan was speechless when it was done.

“Wasn’t that a humbler? How’d you ever get out of that?”

“Simple, I hurt myself. I pushed it away from my body and was able to turn it so it was in front of my legs. Then I managed to overwhelm….”

“Okay, I get the idea. It looked like she was hurting you somehow.”

“Yeah, electrical shocks applied where they’d hurt the most.”

“Ouch! How can you even walk?”

“It’s a challenge, but every time I torture my loving wife or her asshole lover I somehow feel a lot better. Would you like to see him? I have him right downstairs where he’s staying until his wife makes arrangements for him to return home. Come on, I’ll show you.” I took her hand and showed her down the basement stairs. There, ankles secured behind the steel support and on his hands and knees was the mighty Ronny Marlowe.

Nan laughed when she saw him. “Can I shock him? I think he deserves it after what he did to you.”

I agreed as I handed her the remote. “Not higher than level six; I promised his wife I wouldn’t damage him too much.” We both laughed at that then she pressed the button. Ronny howled like a dog. He almost jumped when she hit him again. “Okay, that’s enough; we have work to do.” I led her back upstairs and turned off the light leaving Ronny in total darkness.

“You did bring your notary kit, didn’t you?”

“Of course, you know I never go anywhere without it, especially when my boss asks so nicely.” She gathered her materials as I brought the documents and photos from my office.

“Sheila, you heard when I described what you did to me to our lawyer. You heard him list all the felonies, didn’t you?” Still gagged, she nodded her head. “Contrary to what you said I definitely will press charges against you. Of course, you could file against me, but I think you’d get it much worse. All I’ve done is payback and even that didn’t come close to matching what you did. Don’t forget I have the video and all the selfies of my back and thighs. Otherwise it’s just your word against mine. So, here’s the deal. You will sign this document. In it you acknowledge that you had a lengthy affair with Ronald Marlowe and that you tricked me into captivity and tortured me. I’ll let you read it before you sign. In it you agree to a divorce and give up all legal claims to the house and all jointly held investments and bank accounts. You get to keep those in your name and I’ll give you $100,000 in lieu of alimony.

“You’ll sign and Nan will notarize. On the photos you acknowledge that they are un-retouched and that you caused the damage shown. Once we are done here I will give you until exactly 7:30 to remove your clothes and other personal items from the house and leave. I’ve already closed the joint account at Chase and the checking account, reopening new accounts in my name. Your credit cards have also been terminated. I have a locksmith coming tomorrow morning to change the locks. I’m going to untie you. Kneel on the floor and read. Don’t destroy anything or the deal is off and I’ll call the police.”

Sheila knelt as directed, read through everything, and signed three copies as well as the photos. Nan notarized each one and I gave a copy of the agreement to Sheila. “Get dressed—you’ll need every second.” I thanked Nan and saw her to the door. “Thanks, Nan—I’m sorry you had to see that. I’ll see you Monday morning.”

“Glad I could help. Maybe now when I flirt with you I’ll get something other than, ‘You know I’m a happily married man.’”

I laughed and she joined me. “You never know. I’ve been tempted, but you know the rule about office romances. I don’t want either of us to be fired.”

“Stupid rule.”

“I agree, but we don’t get to make them…unfortunately.” I kissed her cheek and she left, leaving me to wonder if she’d be worth the risk. Hmm…maybe.

Next: Tom finds the love of his life.

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