Even a wimp has his limits - my ending to Turned's Payback - Ten fold
URL: http://www.literotica.com/s/payback-ten-fold
Another story about a wife's revenge taken too far. In some of these, the husband never even did anything wrong. This isn't the case in Payback - Ten Fold. Hubby did bad. He fucked around, and hurt his wife, and the girl he was screwing with. The wife decides she wants payback in kind, rarely a good idea, and the games begin.
While she's punishing him, she slowly slips further and further down the slope of immorality, egged on by her lifetime friend, a man-hating professional escort. Just the kind of person you should turn to, when you're having problems in your marriage.
After two chapters, she finally pushes things too far, and perhaps even recognizes that she's in trouble. Perhaps.
After two chapters, this story was abandoned in April of 2010. It's been four long years waiting for a finish. The wait is over. This is a story that I've had many, many requests to complete.
There are too damn many intriguing stories that are never completed, or left hanging with disgusting endings. If I find a story that's been abandoned for too long, I'll give you my idea of an ending. Fair warning though, I don't write about total wimps. May not be BTB, all nuclear and shit, but no voluntary cucks, or whiny simpering wimps.
For Information on how I choose which stories to continue, please read my profile.
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End of Payback - Ten Fold Ch.02 by Turned
"Do you know what you've done, Tony? Do you have any idea?" Her voice sounded shaky. I recognized her tone and when a teardrop landed on my cheek it confirmed she was crying. "I'm turning into something really bad, Tony. Really bad! And I don't know what to do!"
I waited for her to continue, still pretending to be asleep, but I soon heard her footsteps going up the stairs.
Part of me felt guilty for not getting up and talking to her in an obvious moment of emotional conflict. But I also knew she was impossible to talk to when she was drunk. She'd ramble on and on, talking in circles all night long. It was better to wait until she was sober to try and have a serious discussion with her.
But at least I could tell she felt remorse for what she was doing. That was a good sign, and it helped me sleep a little better that night. But only a little.
Chapter 3 - A Line In the Sand
I sat at the table and squinted at the harsh morning light streaming in through the window. I sipped my scalding black coffee, trying to decide the best way out of the miserable situation. Her last words the night before had finally shown a hint of concern, not over our marriage, but at what she was becoming. Perhaps she finally realized what her best friend was turning her into. I only hoped that her concerns would carry over into the new day. Then again, even if they did, was it already too late?
My wife entered the room, once again half naked, mincing around in panties and nothing else. She looked like shit, worn out and exhausted, her face screwed up, probably from a hangover. She had marks all over her body, her tits and thighs were bruised and showed bite marks. I knew that she was purposely showing them off to me. So much for my hopes that she realized what was happening to us, or that she cared.
"This has to stop, Lexi. It's not even about us anymore. I'm concerned for your health and safety."
"I'm sure you're
so
concerned. Where was that concern when you were fucking around?"
I sighed, tired of defending my actions. Yeah, I cheated, but this was out of control. "I screwed up. But I was discreet, careful, and never rubbed your nose in it. Acting like a common bar slut isn't the way to fix this."
She stood in front of me, her anger manifested in what was once a beautiful face, now a wan, sunken-eyed despicable visage. "Don't you DARE take that tone with me! You're the slut, not me! Don't you DARE lecture me, you asshole!"
I was starting to worry that she was certifiably insane. As she screamed spittle sprayed out of her mouth, and her eyes took on a crazed look.
In the light of day, after a restless night, I knew I couldn't take anymore. I'd fucked up, but this woman in my house wasn't my wife. She had become a complete heartless slut. Her once beautiful body disgusted me.
I knew that her evil cunt of a friend Maria had a lot to do with it, egging her on, leading her into more vile situations, doing terrible things. But she was a grown woman and responsible for her own actions.
She'd spent the last night in a bar fucking who knows how many men, sucking them off, while the bastards who used her sent me pictures of their actions. In them she was completely remorseless, flipping me off with the evidence of her adultery on her face. For a moment the previous night she'd actually seemed to regret her actions. Now it was back to more of the same. Cold, cruel, heartless, demeaning, humiliating.
"It's over, Lexi. I've had it. I tried to put up with you, but what you've done now is beyond my limits."
"No way! You don't get to choose, you asshole! I'll decide when there's been enough, and what your limits are. You think this is rough? Try sitting a few cubicles down from the bitch who fucked your husband! That's what I have to live with. You haven't even started to feel the pain I have."
I stood and faced her down. I had loved the woman, but any last vestiges of that feeling were starting to fade. The hatred, the disrespect, the purposeful humiliation were too much.
"It's over. The next time you cheat on me, the next time you disrespect me and try to humiliate me, I
will
divorce your slutty ass. Hell, I'll probably do it anyway. You disgust me now. I wonder how I ever loved you. I know you don't love me, not the way you're treating me, so this isn't worth my time."
"Fuck you!" she screamed in my face. "You don't get to make the decisions, I do! It's not over until I say it's over! You're the cheater, not me!"
I leaned closer, my eyes hardening. "That's it. I'm done. You'll hear from my lawyer. Congratulations, you destroyed us."
She was still shrieking at me when I went upstairs to pack my bags. Her words were vile, telling me all the things she'd done, how good it made her feel, demeaning and insulting me. She admitted to being with at least half-a-dozen men the night before, getting fucked on that pool table, and sucking any dick that was stuck in her face.
"I hope you figure out what you want, before it's too late. I pray you stop before you become a full-fledge whore like your idiot friend."
"I'm not a whore!"
"You're just like Maria now. I'm sure she's proud she split us up like she always wanted. I imagine it won't be long before you both work for her pimp husband."
I had finished packing my last bag, while she screamed at me, telling me all the disgusting things she planned to do. I thought she was a whore last night? She'd show me just how big a whore she could be. Then we'd see how I liked it!
"Whatever. I'm sorry I fucked Michelle. It was a terrible thing to do, and I'll always regret it. I think most of all I'll regret that it turned you into
this
," I said, looking up and down her half naked body, the signs of her previous nights activity still vivid.
She was still shrieking like a mad woman when I walked out the door and drove away.
~ * ~ * ~
The small motel rented rooms by the week. It would give me enough time to find a more permanent place. I'd let her keep the house, we'd only had it a few years, and there wasn't enough equity in it to pay the Realtor fees if we sold it.
I was feeling sorry for myself, and at what had happened to my life, that first evening. There was a small bar only a block away from the motel. I'd never been in it before, and figured nobody there would recognize me. I couldn't stand the idea of facing anyone who might know me and Lexi, or was aware of what she'd done. I figure it had to be common knowledge by now.
After a couple of drinks, I decided I needed to try to salvage at least part of what had become a horrible situation.
I admit it, I was half drunk, or I probably wouldn't have done it. I texted Michelle.
I hadn't heard from her, or tried to contact her since that night when everything went to hell. I didn't know what to say, so I started with the old fall back. SORRY ABOUT OTHER NIGHT. I WAS DRUNK AND UPSET. SHOULDNT HAVE TAKEN IT OUT ON U.
After turning the phone on, it was a few seconds before I saw the number of calls I'd missed. Over a dozen, most from Lexi, but there were several numbers I didn't recognize. I was about to delete the voicemails, when I got curious. I started to listen to the first one.
"You fucking coward,"
she had screamed.
"You get your ass back home, and take what you deserve! If you're not here by noon, I'm going back to the bar, and taking anyone who wants me home to our house. If you're there, I'll only fuck three of them, otherwise they're all going to get me. How do you like that?"
Delete.
"It's eleven-fifty, asshole. Your time is running out. In ten minutes I'm out the door. You better be on your way!"
Delete.
"You're lucky, there's only five single guys and two couples in here. How long do you think it's going to take me to have them home in our bed? You better be there, or I'm fucking all of them!"
Delete.
"Four of them, you asshole, and one of the couples. Five men and one woman, here in the house and you're not here. I warned you. I hope you like the pictures."
Delete.
The next call was from a number I didn't recognize. I heard the strange voice on the other end, telling me what a hot little whore I had, and how good her ass felt. She was moaning and cursing me in the background. I didn't even listen to the whole thing.
Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete.
I had barely finished deleting the last message, when a new text appeared. It was from Michelle.
SORRY. U HURT ME TONY. I DIDNT DESERVE THAT
She was right. I had hurt her, making promises I never intended to keep. I had wanted her, and had been willing to say whatever it took to get her. I had fucked up big time, and I was now paying the piper.
I KNOW. I WAS AN ASS. HOPE U CAN FORGIVE ME SOMEDAY.
I noticed that I had several more text messages. Some from unknown numbers, a couple from Lexi. After seeing the first three pictures, I was feeling sick. My wife, the woman I loved, was being made airtight by strangers. The men looked disgusting, the kind of guys who'd be in a bar early on a Saturday afternoon. Lexi looked almost as bad. The last picture showed her with a woman that had to be at least 50 years old, a typical bar hag. I felt the tears in my eyes, as I closed the phone.
An incoming message beep had me take one last look. Michelle again. R U OK?
NO.