The first mistake is thinking that it's not a mistake. Then it is and there's no way to get out of it. I kissed her. Well... more than just kissed. More like put my tongue down her throat, unbuttoned her top, ran my hand up her skirt and had her hand on my crotch. It wasn't a big deal. Nothing (much) happened at that point... except my wife walked in. So much for thinking we were alone. So much for saying nothing really happened. So much for acting like I didn't really do anything wrong. It was a mistake and I was about to find out how just how big.
The fight lasted all night. I loved her but... it was a small mistake. She wanted to turn it into a big deal. I ignored most of her crying and screaming until she said the D word. Then a vision of over-priced lawyers flashed in my brain. Did I mention that I still loved her? So why do that and end up without her, and most of my money, for a mistake. Of course I said the magic words. I'll do anything to make this right.
Two night later we're driving to dinner when she tells me to turn left. That's not the way to the restaurant... but she yells TURN LEFT. I ask where she wants to go and she says we're going to make things right. A nice dinner would have worked for me. Maybe she knows of a more expensive restaurant. She give me a few more directions... about twenty minutes worth... and we arrive at a plain brick apartment building. Nothing special. We park. We walk to the building and she hits the buzzer. Hmmm. How the hell does she know anyone in here?? A voice. She gives her name. We enter.
Up four flights of stairs (where the fuck did they put the elevator?) and we come to a hall with two doors. We go into one. Nice but sparse. Plain brick interior, sort of inner city loft type factory renovation apartment living. She sits on a chair as if she's at home and tells me to sit down. The deal is simple. I said I'd do anything to make this right and she plans on making sure of it. I sit down tentatively, not knowing who's apartment I'm making myself comfortable at. It's a short-lived comfort.
Her logic is simple. I humiliated her by groping another woman, so now it's my turn. If I do what I'm told, we stay together. If not, she drives home and calls a lawyer. Then a man comes out of the bathroom and tells me that he'll be giving me my orders for the evening. I look at her and laugh but she's not laughing. Not even smiling. Just staring at me as if looks could kill. And I know for sure that I made a mistake.
He leads me to the other end of the room and tells me to take my clothes off. I protest but he says it again. My wife stands nearby and tells me she's not playing games. Pick one; her or her lawyer. I take off my clothes and I'm very uncomfortable, standing naked in front of a strange man. He orders me to turn around and I realize that I'm now facing some wood tables and racks holding whips, canes, paddles, and leather straps.