Begin Again
The days turned into weeks and weeks into months. I began to think this was the last we would hear of Lori. One day, after almost six months, Daddy came by the apartment with a big grin on his face.
"Sissy, how would you like to move in with me?" It was like the most unromantic proposal ever. Of course, I would love to. Then, he said he wanted to "marry" me, and he showed me a tiny little ring that couldn't possibly fit on a finger.
"No, sissy, it's for your little clitty. I want to have it pierced and this ring put on as a symbol of commitment."
"Yes, of course, Daddy. You want to, for real, marry me? I would marry you any way you want me. But I'm still legally married to Lori."
"That's just it, sissy. I found her three weeks ago and got her to file for divorce. All you have to do is sign the papers, and we are both free of that vile faithless bitch forever." He pulled out the papers; I recognized Lori's calligraphic signature, with all of her serifs and swirls.
"Where was she?" I asked.
He'd been right, all along, he said; that last john, turned out to be that nice second guy the first night he whored her out. He had made several appointments using different accounts. On that last night, rather than using his time for sex, he got her to pack up and leave with him up to somewhere in the Bronx. Daddy had hired a private investigator to find her.
I couldn't sign the papers soon enough and agreed to marry him on the spot--this time for real, knowing it was possible, but I had one request.
"Daddy, I love you, I will be whatever you want me to be for you, but I haven't been punished in a very long time. You have been so gentle with me, which I do enjoy, but you know what a painslut I am. I miss it, Sir. I know how much you enjoy it, and I want to give you the freedom to inflict as much pain as you like on me. Is that okay, Daddy?"
"Oh, my sweet little sissy. That's just the kind of thing that drives me crazy about you. You say things like that, and I know you mean it because you are always honest and truthful. I have never felt this way about anyone in my life. I can't believe I am going to say this, but... I ...I think... I... uhm, love you, Sissy.
"I have never said that to anyone, and meant it, but that's what you do to me. I know you are already mine completely and that makes me feel free, somehow. All the other sluts I've had may have been devoted, but none would have Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time for the pain you like. Meanwhile, as it turns out, I have a special treat for you tonight."
I had become spoiled. Since Lori's fall from grace, when he said he had a treat for me, it turned out to be an actual treat. Before that, I was used to special treats like, my wife confessing to fucking my best friend, demonstrating how she had been unfaithful. But now, it would be a special meal cooked by Vera, who was a professional chef, or a bubble bath in his big whirlpool tub, while he gently fucked me. This was the range I was expecting on the day of my first real marriage proposal.
"You know how I recorded those interviews with your whore ex-wife, well how would you like to watch her talk about all the other times she cheated on you? I promise you the great humiliation and pain you were just asking for it."
"Yippee! Thank you, Sir." I said, feeling safe enough for sarcasm. "Will I get to see all of it?"
"Well, we'll see. Let's start with the first time she cuckolded you, weren't you curious about that?"
Should I make popcorn, I wondered. He had me get drinks instead and hooked up his phone to the TV so we could see it all in Hi-def.
As her image came alive as we sat comfortably next to each other on my couch. And... there she was; I suddenly realized I had actually missed her face. This was "my Lori," before I had given her to him, though I understood that she had never really truly been
mine
, like I was his. She looked stunning; clearly, she had made a real effort to look as sexy as possible for him. I had convinced myself this would carry no emotional pain for me at all. She was long gone and, as of just now, no longer my wife.
But fuck, was I wrong! What stung me most was how eager she was to tell him the story of her infidelity. When she had confessed her indiscretions to me, she had been contrite, apologetic... weepy even. The wide grin and eagerness belied the pretense those apologies. It was one thing to have her confess her transgressions tearfully and remorsefully to my face; it was quite another to watch her gleefully reveal her treachery to impress a man she thought of as a potential lover, with whom she expected to betray me again.
Without the restriction of my feelings, she was much crueler in telling the story. She spared no detail and revealed her resentment with every grin and the free and easy cheerfulness with which she spun the yarn. She was taking pleasure in the narration and getting aroused by it actually.
She had framed these interviews, when she told me about them, as being coerced by him into revealing her adultery. But nothing could be further from the truth. She was exhilarated to tell him, to titillate him with her treacherous exploits. She was trying to arouse him and seduce him through her wanton debauchery and humiliation of me.
When she got to sexual details, she would put on a sensual tone and her voice would drop to a lower register. Rather than describe the sounds of her sexual encounters, she would mimic them as though she was experiencing it at the moment, moaning and groaning or squealing. I was not ready for this, and silent tears began to form in the corner of my eyes right from the start.
"So, when was your next encounter, after you fucked the big frat boy, and he fisted you?" Daddy's disembodied voice was asking.
"It was the very next morning. I awakened in Marty's bed by Terry, one of the frat boys I knew, from the house. I had giving him a blow job about year before, but no more. He had a pretty average penis, but about three times as big as my stupid husband's."
