An adult stories – The Wrong Bag by Chimney Sweep,Chimney Sweep Author’s Note: This is a quick one about Brad and Mandy. Brad found out his wife was cheating on him, so he took appropriate steps. This is the story of his revenge.
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Brad came in close behind his wife and slipped a hand around her slim waist. Amanda leaned back into him, her hands pausing in the sink where she was prewashing the dinner dishes. He nuzzled his trim beard into her neck and kissed her gently as she cooed.
“Do you trust me, Mandy?”
“Of course! Why would you ask that?”
“Because I want to try something new tonight. In the bedroom.” The place where sex doesn’t happen anymore, he didn’t say out loud. He could feel her tense up. She went back to scrubbing the plate, her elbow poking him in the belly to push him gently away. Her subtle techniques to make space between them were now so incredibly obvious to him.
“I’m sorry, Brad, I’m just…” She let it trail off, hoping the previous hundred denials would fill in the blanks.
“Tired?” One of her many excuses.
“Yeah! It’s been a long day and I really need to relax.”
“That’s perfect. I don’t need you to do a thing. You can relax, completely, the whole time.”
“I mean… I guess a backrub would be nice, but…”
“Please, Mandy. We need this.” Amanda set the plate in the dishwasher, rinsed her hands, and pulled a towel off the hook. She turned and started to dry her hands, forcing some space between herself and her husband of six years, almost defensively. He could see annoyance cross her lovely face for a moment but she quickly had herself under control.
“Brad, I’m not in the mood.” You could hear the period at the end of her sentence. He kept his voice gentle and loving, as best he could.
“It’s been a long time since you were in the mood, honey. It’s becoming a problem.” No, it was a problem long ago.
“I know, and I’m sorry, but I’ve got… I need to be in a certain frame of mind, and I can’t get there with all the stress and pressure in my life right now. My job, the credit card, the housework, the car, my family and the, the… the air conditioner! Everything!” She threw her hands up theatrically as if the entire universe was set against her being intimate with her husband and she was simply powerless in the matter. Brad kept his face calm, not displaying his displeasure.
The AC was down for all of twenty hours last month before the tech could get it repaired, free of charge due to the warranty, and Brad had handled it all. It wasn’t even terribly warm that night. The credit card was just a fluke lost payment, easily settled with a phone call and no late fee. The car had a flat two months ago, which Brad fixed with no inconvenience to Amanda. Just like all of her excuses, it was easily discarded as nonsense once the pattern was visible.
“That is a lot,” he said. A lot of bullshit. “I understand. But hear me out.”
“No, Brad. I’m sorry, but no.” She crossed her arms under her breasts and tried to look resolved. Her foot was down. He hung his head for a moment, as if in defeat. Then he put a hand into his denim pocket and pulled out a weathered scrap of paper. He held it in his hands tenderly for a moment, then handed it to his wife.
“You gave me this on our wedding day. Part of a little packet of love coupons.” It was thick white cardstock paper with bright red calligraphy proclaiming ‘SEX! Anytime! Anywhere!’ Amanda took it, read it carefully as she brushed her fingertips across the surface, then held it to her chest. Brad watched the play of emotions across her face, wondering what calculus churned behind those lovely brown eyes. Would it work? Was there anything left in there?
“What should I wear?” Her tone was gentle and loving, dusky and provocative, the way she used to be. Her beautiful smile was the same as the day they met, as the day they married, as it would always live in his heart. He could almost believe that she was still his, and that rattled him. That she could turn this on so easily, when it had been absent so long, was almost shocking. Brad smiled and it was the hardest thing he’d done in weeks.
“Something simple. Elegant. Maybe… the white lingerie you wore on our wedding night?” Her eyes flared for a fraction of a second. Brad could see the pulse in her long, lovely neck. But the smile didn’t waver.
“All right then. Give me a few minutes to freshen up?” she asked.
“Of course. I’ll meet you in the bedroom in fifteen minutes.”
He moved in for a kiss and she met him halfway, that perfect lovely smile still in place. But the eyes told a different story. They were hard and tense. Scared? Angry? Hard to tell.
Amanda went to the master suite, while Brad filled a cup with ice from the fridge. He went to the spare bedroom. The third bedroom was Mandy’s office and he was discouraged from going in there. Client confidentiality, he had been told. She had paperwork lying around that could get somebody in trouble if it got out. That story had worked for a long time.
Another jolt of worry shook him. Would this work? Did it really matter, in the long run? No, not really. This plan was all a big cherry on top of the sundae. Nice to have, but not critical to the process. Still, he was excited at the possibility. That he was even able to roll these dice was reward enough. He knew he had done everything he could.
In the spare room, Brad checked his gear. Laid out on a party platter he’d brought from under the kitchen cabinet was a selection of toys. A single long-stemmed rose, a black leather flogger with many slender leather tails, a clutch of feathers on a foot-long wand, a riding crop with a small leather head, the cup of ice, a long, thin soy wax candle and a lighter, a thick black blindfold, and a few more odds and ends. He threw a spare hand towel over the tray and checked his watch. Nine minutes.
On the desk, he unlocked his laptop and checked again that the other preparations were in place. All good. Nothing had changed in the last half hour. He just needed to wait until the last moment. Brad once again reconsidered his path, but he’d been over it enough in his head already. No second guessing now.
Seven minutes. Brad did some deep breathing exercises to settle himself for the next hour or so. It didn’t work. How long would this really take? What had he not considered? How could this backfire? He checked his watch every 30 seconds until it was time. Finally, he clicked a couple of boxes on the screen, closed his laptop, and dropped it in the case. He collected the cords and stowed them one last time. He was all ready to go. Brad then scooped up the platter with all his toys. Down the hall, he tapped a toe against the master suite door to knock, his hands full with the covered tray.
“Ready for me?” he asked.
“I’m ready,” his wife replied. No, you’re not.
Brad pushed the door open and smiled at the sight. Damn, she was a beautiful woman! Amanda, his wife of six years, stood there in white heels and white lingerie, a demi-cup bra that pushed her generous tits out front and center, a garter belt and white stockings, and crotchless panties, all covered in delicate lace. It had been the outfit under her wedding dress. She was flawless. On the outside, anyway. He had always loved that she was only a few inches shorter than him, and on high heels, she met his eyes perfectly. It was a strange thing to like, but he did. Well, he had. He used to think he was lucky to have landed such an incredibly sexy woman.
“You are as lovely as the day I met you,” he said.
“Better, I’d say.” Her confidence was palpable and her fingers touched the lace around the bra. Her dark nipples were already hard. She had a point. Her long hours ‘in the gym’ had paid off admirably. Her 31-year-old body was strong and toned, her tits firm and high, her dark hair long and flowing, her face lovely and smiling. She was stunning in so many ways.
“Better,” Brad agreed. He set the tray down on the dresser and approached his wife. She had her wild eyes under control now and that beautiful face seemed to be all his. He embraced her gently and held her close. Amanda cast a curious gaze at the covered tray.
“You have some treats for me over there?” A note of sexy, playful anticipation tinged her voice.
“Something like that.” He broke the embrace and held her face in his hands, then kissed her lips carefully, reverently, as if it would be their last. She returned the kiss just as gently, letting him lead. When he broke the kiss he looked into her eyes again. Her mask was well in place.
“On the bed, please. In the middle. Prop your head up on a pillow or two and get comfortable.” Amanda complied, crawling to the center of the bed, puffing up some pillows, and laying spread eagle as requested. Brad went to the corner of the bed where her right ankle lay and reached under the mattress. He brought out a padded Velcro restraint and wrapped it quickly around her ankle. That got a rise out of her. She sat up with a concerned look on her face.
“Hold on! We haven’t talked about this.” Her voice was stern and disapproving.
“I asked if you trust me. You said yes.”
“I do trust you, but this is something else.”
“Yes, it is. I’ve done my homework and I can guarantee I won’t do anything you won’t like. And of course, there is a safe word. That’s a full stop, I understand how that works. You are 100% safe here.”
“Brad, I just…”
“Shhhh. This will be good for us. I really want to explore this with you. Trust me. Please.” She was obviously still reluctant but seemed to soften under his tender gaze. Again he watched the battle behind her eyes, and again she acquiesced to him. She lay back down and slowly put her wrist near the corner of the bed.
“I’m trusting you, Brad.”
“Thank you, Mandy. You won’t regret it.” Oh, yes she will.
Quickly he restrained her at wrists and ankles, pulled snugly but not tight, her legs spread wide enough for whatever kind of access Brad desired. He sighed a deep and cleansing breath. That had been the hard part. He was over the hump.
Brad pulled his phone, wallet, and keys out of his jeans and set them on the dresser, then kicked off his shoes. Then he noticed his wife’s phone, tucked neatly behind the picture of the two of them at their wedding reception. The picture spoke of pure wedded bliss, now long since gone. He picked up the phone from its hidey-hole.
“What are you doing with my phone?” she asked, fear obviously ringing clearly in her voice.
“Just plugging it in for you. Sorry, so many real-life details to handle.” He took it to his dresser and plugged it in and set it down in his metal change dish. That would amplify the buzz of vibration when it started to explode. Brad picked up the tray, delivering it to his wife’s side of the bed.
“I know that bondage can lead to some extreme things, but we aren’t going anywhere near that tonight. I want you to relax and let me entertain you. I will not push your boundaries, but there will be some new experiences, I think. We’re going to have some sensation play. I’ll put this blindfold on you, then delight and entertain your skin with experiences. I guarantee it’s nothing you’ll find objectionable. And if I am wrong, just use the safe word and I immediately stop what I am doing and let you out of the restraints. OK?”
“What’s my safe word?”
“Calico.” Unusual, unsexy, and thought up at the last second. “Or do you have something else in mind?”
“Calico is fine. Alright. I’m trusting you, Brad.” Her voice showed she wasn’t 100%, but he was unworried. Everything was aligned now.
“As I trust you, Mandy. Head up.” He wrapped the black blindfold around her head, tightening the strap a bit to make it snug. She could rub her head around a bit and work it off in seconds, but it would do the trick.
In silence, Brad flipped the towel off the tray of toys.
“Let’s begin.”
He lifted the long-stemmed red rose, bought on his way home for maximum freshness. He placed the petals near her nose and let her smell it. Her lips twitched into a smile as she recognized the scent. He touched her cheek with the flower and traced it around her face.
“That tickles,” she said quietly.
He continued to trace the lines of her body, down her neck and across her collar bones, around her full breasts and across her nipples, down her firm tummy and over to her hip, then down one leg and back up, then to the other, slowly, sensually. At the inside of her right leg, he turned the stem to bring a thorn to her flesh and pressed it into her.
“Ow!” she exclaimed as she twitched briefly away from the pain. Brad moved the petals over the spot to soothe her.
“Too much?”
“No, just a surprise. Keep going.”
“As you wish.”
Another pass around her body with the flower and Brad was reaching for another toy. Decisions, decisions. He picked up the flogger and splayed it out on the pillow over Amanda’s left shoulder. He slowly pulled the tails across her chest, setting her nipples on fire apparently. They swelled up even harder and her breath caught in her throat.
“Ooh, you liked that. Let’s try it again.” Brad repeated the motion from the other shoulder, again dragging the soft leather slowly across her tender skin. Her nipples had always been sensitive, but this seemed to excite her more than he expected. Damn shame they couldn’t have discovered this much earlier. It might have made a difference.
A harsh sound of vibrating metal crashed into the otherwise quiet room as Amanda’s phone received an incoming call or text. They both started at the loud sound.
“Sorry, guess I didn’t realize how loud that would be,” Brad apologized. Amanda was preoccupied.
“Ignore it,” she said, a touch breathlessly. The phone buzzed again as Brad drew the flogger down her torso, across her breasts and belly, and down her legs, some of the strands falling down between and brushing her pubic area. Up and down her legs he used the flogger to gently delight and excite her, then pulled it across her tits a few more times.
A text message clattered her phone briefly in the change dish. Brad smiled.
He reached for the cup of ice and pulled out a cube, then without warning he touched it to Amanda’s left nipple. She flinched at the intense sensation and sucked air through her teeth, then moaned the breath back out slowly. Brad had to squash a desire to warm her nipple back up with his mouth and realized this would be more difficult than he realized. He had to admit that he still wanted her, even now. His cock was painfully hard and his resolution wavered.
The ice cube moved to her other nipple, then down her neck, then behind a knee, surprising her with each new location. Brad dropped it back in the cup and picked up another toy, the riding crop. He put his right hand on her breast and squeezed gently, rolling her ice-hardened nipple between his fingers. She squirmed and moaned appreciatively, especially when he twisted the tender nub of flesh with a touch of real force. He moved his hand slowly down her torso, below the garter, below the waistband of her panties, and down to her short-trimmed bush. She tensed like a bowstring being pulled as he approached her clit.
Amanda’s phone again buzzed loudly from the dresser. Time to cause a distraction.
One finger slipped down to the cleft in the crotchless panties and into her sopping wet pussy. Figures. This is what it took to break her frigid ways. If she had just talked to him about it first… Brad pulled the slick finger back out and started circling her clit. Her moans of pleasure increased and she tried to grind her hips against his attention.
SWAT! Brad landed a hard blow to her breast with the crop. That lit her up like a Christmas tree.
“Ah! Oh fuck, yeah!” she bellowed. Brad’s jaw clenched in disgust. He continued to work her clit, a little more quickly now, and touched the crop gently across her flesh. He lifted it quickly and feigned a strike. She flinched, anticipating the blow that didn’t land. Again, and again he tricked her, then landed a true blow to her lower leg. Again she cried out with lust and excitement. Truly, he had never seen this side of his wife,
Time for the candle. He put a new ice cube in her navel and laid the flogger across her tits, then picked up the narrow candle and lighter. Once lit, the thing started dripping wax quickly. The first drop fell on her thigh, She sucked air in through her teeth and flinched. When she exhaled, a quiet “Oh fuck” slipped out of her.
The red candle dropped pink wax on her pale flesh, on her tummy, her arm, her hip, her breast, and every drop pulled a plaintive sound out of Amanda’s mouth. Brad let one drop on the back of his hand and was surprised at the intensity of the feeling. He was amazed she continued to accept this abuse. He had intended this to be too much for her. He had intended this experience to be on the edge of torture and even felt bad about it. A little. He shrugged. One more mystery of Amanda.
Brad spent the next twenty minutes switching between his various tools, touching her sensitive flesh with ice, fire, pain, and pleasure. Nipples, clit, behind her ear, collarbones, behind her knee, ankles, toes, the curve of her shapely hip, her navel, and more. He mapped out her body with drops of hot wax and streams of melted ice as she twisted in ever-increasing pleasure under his gentle torture. And all the while, her phone continued to clatter and buzz loudly every few minutes.
Someone decided to keep calling over and over, and Brad knew his time was coming to an end. He picked up the powerful wand vibrator and snapped it on just next to Amanda’s ear. She jumped in surprise and then moaned in knowing lust as she recognized the sound.
“Yes! Oh, please let me cum, sir!”
Sir? That was new. Did she even realize she said it? No matter. Brad pushed the round head of the wand into her clit and she wailed in ecstasy. The phone continued its epileptic fit, so Brad had to keep his wife’s attention. With his free hand, he again started raining down sensations on her body – ice, impact, feather, the rose thorn, here, there, everywhere. She was in heaven, apparently. If only she had let him in sooner!
He well knew his wife’s crescendo to climax, and as she neared the pinnacle, he removed the wand from her pussy and rained almost gentle blows across her torso with the crop, finally landing a stinger right on her clit. She shrieked and growled at him.
“Let me cum, dammit!”
“You didn’t say sir.” WHACK! The crop landed on her defenseless flank and she recoiled.
“Sorry! Sorry, sir. Please, let me cum!”
Brad replaced the vibrator on her cunt and pressed it in, earning a low, howling moan from deep in her throat.
“Oh fuuuuuuuck!” He held it there for a few moments, then cruelly pulled it away.
“Beg for it,” he said.
“Oh God, PLEASE! Please let me cum, sir! I’ll be good, I swear!”
“What does ‘good’ look like to a slut like you?”
Never, not once, had Amanda allowed even the slightest hint of dirty or demeaning language aimed at her, even in the throes of passion. He couldn’t even call the cat a bitch for shitting on the carpet. But now she leaned into his words as if they had lit a fire under her.
“I’ll be your good slut! I’ll fuck you! You can fuck me like a dirty fucking whore! Anything, just please let me cum!”
The dirty fucking whore’s phone again blasted away in the change dish as Brad pressed the vibrator back to her sloppy wet crotch. Over and over they fought for dominance, the noise of the phone exploding and the wails and growls coming from Amanda’s overstimulated body. He edged her cruelly for what seemed like an hour. A quick check of his watch told him that his time was running short. They’d have a visitor soon.
“That’s enough, I think.” The loud snap of the switch turning off put an end to her fun. He had considered giving her one last treat, one last going away present from the past where their marriage was still intact. But the pitiful begging of this woman he never really knew disgusted and appalled him. If he’d had any misgivings, this shit show would have dispelled them completely.
Her phone clattered loudly in the change dish, now louder due to the absence of the buzzing wand and her feverish bleating. Amanda struggled to catch her breath and pulled against the restraints to try to capture the fleeting and intense orgasm so cruelly teased by her husband. Clarity started to intrude, and she realized her phone had been squealing for attention at least as much as she had been.
“Brad, I think I need a break.” He ignored her and picked up the riding crop again.
“We aren’t done. I’ve got more fun planned.” Much more.
“No, really, that was… very intense… but I need you to let me up now. I think something is wrong at work because my phone keeps going off.” An edge of concern tinted her voice along with the bitter disappointment at her ruined orgasm.
“Oh, don’t worry about work. That’s not why your phone is exploding. But I guess we are done with these toys. They weren’t the real star of the show anyway. The important stuff is over here in the closet.” He went there, on his way picking up the remote control for the DVD player and punching the play button. In the closet he uncovered a black duffel bag from a few layers of blankets and debris, intentionally hidden there just before Amanda came home from work. He hefted the thing and brought it to the bed, laying it where the tray had been previously. He zipped it open in one quick pull.
“Now, I’m less familiar with this stuff. Let’s see what we have here…” He had been through the bag, of course. He had cataloged its contents more than once. Of great interest had been the two GoPro cameras. Especially the contents of their memory cards, one of which was playing silently on the TV screen already.
“Maybe you can help me identify some of this.” He reached for the blindfold and pulled it off her head entirely. She looked down at the black duffel bag on the be next to her.
“That’s my gym bag,” she said cautiously.
“That’s what I thought. Imagine my surprise when I went into your office to get into this bag to drop off those new LuLu Lemons I bought you last month. I wanted it to be a surprise. But then I found another bag hidden in your closet. And the things I found in there…”
“Oh God!” Brad swiped the zipper open wide and pulled out the first ‘toy.’
“Butt plug, right?” He dropped it on the bed next to her, then pulled out another. Her look was one or terror.
“A bigger buttplug. My goodness.”
He watched her face as the reality of the moment landed on her. She saw her bag, her secret gym bag that looked exactly like the real gym bag, the secret bag she kept hidden in her office. She saw the two black rubber anal probes on the bed next to her and watched as her husband pulled a long, thick realistic dildo from the bag. She saw the TV on the far wall and instantly recognized the scene.
“Calico! Calico! Get me out of this thing!” She thrashed violently against the restraints but she was trapped.
Her phone clattered loudly in the change dish.
“I hear you but… that’s not really your real safe word, is it? I’ll turn up the volume and maybe we’ll hear it soon.” He knew it was only a few minutes in and had queued up the scene accordingly. On the screen, his wife was shackled to a concrete floor, her arms on the ground, her body bent up and her legs over her head, twisted into a pretzel so her ass was her highest point. Two men, one white and one black, both wearing black boots and nothing else, stood above her, both pushing their hard cocks down into her body at the same time, one in her pussy and one in her ass. Amanda, wearing the same white wedding lingerie, was wailing like a cat in heat as they fucked her roughly.
“Let’s get back to this bag, shall we? Ooh, another huge dildo. Wouldn’t have guessed you could take all that but sure, I can work with it. These are… nipple clamps, right? Or pussy clamps? Is there a difference?”
“Calico, Brad! Please, let me out of here! I can explain! Calico, Brad!”
“That’s not the word. Ooh, rope, of course. Here we go! Now that’s a paddle!” He held up a wooden paddle, the kind your old grade school principal was rumored to use on wayward children.
“Bradley! Bradley!” She shouted the word, but it didn’t sound like she was calling his name.
“Yes, dear?” he asked with excruciatingly pure innocence. “Wow! That butt plug is even bigger than that last one. Do we need to get you to a doctor, honey?”
“My real safe word is Bradley! Please let me go!” She was in a panic, wrenching her limbs within the unforgiving straps that held her down.
“Don’t hurt yourself, dear. Bradley? My name is your safe word? Aw, that’s sweet. Wait… did you pick it out yourself or did those two give it to you?” Perfect timing.
In the video, one of the men pulled his thick cock out of her pussy and started trying to push it into her asshole along with the other man’s already thrusting dick.
“No! Bradley! Bradley” she shouted on the video. One of them spoke angrily.
“Fuck! I told you she couldn’t handle that yet.” The men got off her quickly and the white one got down near her face on the floor.
“You said the cuck’s name, now you are a weak little bitch like him, yeah? You know we don’t want to hear you fucking speak, right? Only thing you are good for is your holes. So what’s wrong with you, Fuckhole? Do you need a break?”
“Not both in my ass, please!” she sputtered breathlessly. “You are right, Master. I can’t handle that yet.”
From the bed, Amanda was crying and begging her husband to set her free. He shushed her.
“Stop it. I want to see how this plays out.” He knew, of course.
“Understood. You need us to let you up or are you ready for more, Fuckhole?” asked the black man.
“More, Lord! Please fuck my dirty ass again. Master, please fuck my filthy pussy. Let me be your Fuckhole!”
“God damn right. I fucking told you she wasn’t ready for that!” said the white man.
“She just needs more training,” said the black man. “We’ll get you properly stretched out, Fuckhole. I can’t wait to punch-fuck your cunt while we both fuck your ass!” Quickly the men were back at it, facing each other as they plundered the bound woman’s holes. Her renewed wails of pleasure echoed from the concrete walls. Brad muted the TV.
“Bradley it is then. That really is your real safeword. I never would have guessed.”
“Bradley! Calico! Let me go, Brad!” she pleaded again through sobs.
Brad lifted the bag and dumped out the rest of its contents. Vibrators, a huge pump container of lube, clothes pins, a towel, more and more filth poured out on Amanda’s body. He tossed the empty bag aside and sat next to her, then put a hand on the bed across her body and leaned down, hovering over her face. He looked into his wife’s tear-ruined eyes but she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“I understand how the safe word works, Amanda. It’s a bond of trust between the dom and sub. The sub is able to give herself over to her dom because she knows she is safe and she trusts him. Tell me, Amanda… Fuckhole, if you prefer… Do you feel betrayed right now? Like someone you trusted, someone you loved, told you a big fat terrible lie right to your fucking face?”
She looked at him then. She recoiled from his cold, hard eyes. She didn’t speak, but slowly nodded her head.
“Yeah. I can imagine you do,” he said quietly. “Perhaps you can imagine how I felt when I found your secret bag and got to watch that for the first time. And all the rest of it.” The video evidence of Amanda’s willing defilement was extreme and extensive. He’d never be free of those sights and sounds. The other GoPro was apparently used for close-ups.
“Brad, I can explain!” He put a gentle finger on her lips and slowly shook his head.
“You know, I thought about that. I thought about allowing you to talk and explain and lie, to let you spew some bullshit just so I could cut you down with evidence. I think it would be fun to watch you try to wriggle off this hook and fail over and over. But ultimately, I know everything I need to know and nothing that comes out of your noise hole will make much difference. So, as much as I am fascinated by the idea that you can explain any of this, we won’t be doing that. The private investigator I’ve had on you this past month has all the explanation I need.” He didn’t think the look of despair on her face could have become more dire, but he was wrong. She looked at him in renewed horror with panic in her eyes.
“Ooh, that got a reaction. Yeah, he caught you at the sex club in LA three weeks ago. He was in the room. He said he even thought about getting in on the gang bang, but decided you were a bit too much of a whore, even for him. The guy is effective but he comes across a little skeevy. And since he wasn’t sure if I was trying to take you back he didn’t want to screw up his paycheck. I told him she should have gone for it. He did great work, though. The pictures and videos he brought back are amazing. My divorce lawyer laughed out loud when he saw them.”
“Divorce!” She shrieked the word as if it gave her physical pain to utter it. “No, Brad! Let me up, let me explain!” He waved away her words, then pushed up off the bed and stood, stretched a bit, and went to put his shoes back on. He desperately wanted a shower but he could do that later at the apartment. Amanda kept sobbing quietly on the bed.
“Brad, I have a problem.”
“Ha! Yeah you do. Several of them.”
“I have an addiction! It’s a sickness! I need your help!”
“Long past that, Mandy. You’ve been helping yourself to my trust, my love, my money, my dignity, my life… anything you could think to take from me, you have. So I am helping myself now.”
“What are you going to do, Brad? You need to let me up eventually.” She hoped. There were outcomes where she never got off the bed alive, she realized.
“What am I going to do? Well, I’m going to leave you, obviously. I was off work today and moved out almost everything I wanted to keep. I’ve been planning this for a while so it’s all set up. I have an apartment, not close, so don’t bother looking. What’s left is just a bag and my laptop in the other room that needs to be collected.”
“Wait, no! You can’t leave me! I love you, Brad!”
“I find it hard to believe you can love me while a room full of strangers runs a train on you. Just can’t wrap my head around that.”
“But I can! I’ve always loved you! I just have a problem with sex.”
“I disagree. You seem to have no problems at all with having all the sex you can get. I am curious, though. If your sex drive was so off the charts, why did you cut me out? If you’d just kept me happy with plain old real-people sex, I might never have known.” As if she had any pride left to salvage, any shame yet to feel, she turned away from her husband.
“That hit a nerve,” he said. Unsure if he actually wanted the answer, he offered her a deal. “Answer the question and I’ll set you free.”
“They… Master and Lord… would punish me if I had sex with you. That’s what the paddle was for.” Brad stood there in silence, staring at the wad of meat he once called a wife, lost in the utter betrayal of this ‘woman.’
Her phone clattered in the change dish.
“Wow. Even after all I already knew, just… Wow.” Brad stood still for a moment, absorbing this new insult, sorting it with all the others, feeling the pain. He was surprised there was more pain he could feel at that late stage. He took a deep breath and sighed it out, purging the thought and moving onward.
“Well, no worries there. We didn’t have sex just now, and we never will again, so you’ll avoid the paddle.”
“You said you’d let me go,” Amanda said hopefully.
“I lied. Like you did. Get used to it. OK, then. There’s not much left I really need. There’s this…” He pulled a folder with papers from his empty nightstand drawer and put it on her dresser, along with her still buzzing phone.
“Divorce papers, obviously. On top is a copy of the prenup your father insisted we sign, with the infidelity clause highlighted. My lawyer asked me to tell you that he is going to fuck you much worse than what he saw in the videos.”
“Brad, no! I love you! What we have is special! We can get it back!” Her words made him vaguely nauseous and he didn’t respond.
“Now, about your phone. Before I came into this room with that tray of toys, I sent email proof of your new hobbies to a few people. More than a few, really. That’s why your phone is blowing up.” On cue, her phone lit up once again with an angry rattle.
“Oh God, no!”
“Fraid so, Mandy. In addition, ‘Lord’ and ‘Master’ will both be served with alienation of affection lawsuits tomorrow. The lawsuits won’t go very far in court but it’ll be enough to annoy them and, here’s the important part, it will force this whole mess into the public eye. Hopefully, it’ll ruin a reputation or two. ‘Lord’ in particular, being a teacher, may be looking for a new profession soon. ‘Master’ is a janitor, in case you didn’t know. It’ll cost him to respond to the lawsuit, so that will probably be rough on a janitor’s salary. Same with the teacher too, I imagine.”
“Also, probably in your messages, are ‘Lords’ wife Trish and ‘Master’s wife Anna. They had no idea their husbands were into this stuff. Thought they went fishing, apparently. That dungeon they fuck you in is a building where ‘Master’ cleans the bathrooms. Appropriate, I guess. I like to think of what they did to you as plunging a toilet. Anyway, they got all this information just as we started because I sent it to them from the other room.”
Amanda was wrenching her arms in the restraints, trying in vain to get free.
“Somewhere in there might be your boss. Or his wife. They both got the emails too. Along with your HR department, of course, but I wouldn’t expect them to call until business hours tomorrow. Thank goodness that PI was good! He even caught you sucking off your boss in the parking lot. Dude has four kids, did you know that? Your boss, I mean, not the PI.”
Amanda was sobbing and hyperventilating, drawing deep wracking breaths and trying not to pass out.
Brad picked up his keys, wallet, and phone, which had been recording the entire incident.
“Just need to grab my laptop from the other room. Your mother should be here any minute. I’ll set you free when she gets here. I told her too, obviously, and asked her to come check on you. I told her a different version, so this scene will be a lot for her. I gave your dad the full version, with video. That guy was always a prick to me so fuck him. Back to your phone… likely some friends in there, maybe coworkers, your ‘book club,’ if that’s what it really is. I half assume that’s where you got into this whole deviant sex shit so you might have a friendly place to go there. Oh, and your sisters. I told all of them. Essentially anybody I ever suspected of giving a shit about you now knows all about it.”
“I’ve taken everything I want so I don’t need to come back here ever again. With any luck, this is the last time I’ll have to look at you. The divorce should go quickly and in my favor. With all this evidence I’ve basically got you over a barrel. And just so you know, my lawyer doesn’t have a safe word.”
The doorbell rang.
“That’ll be your mother. Here we go…” He reached out and undid the strap at her wrist, then circled the bed and let loose the other straps as the doorbell rang over and over. Amanda just lay there in shock. Brad headed for the door one last time.
“I love you, Brad,” she said weakly.
“Go to Hell, Mandy.”