Purgatory

PURGATORY

(A bit of fantasy in this one. Maybe more than usual. Everyone who has sex in this story is at least eighteen, and some are way older than that.)

It has been almost two years since my wife's boyfriend beat me up as she watched. I had been mowing the lawn on a Saturday. The two of them showed up on the rear patio, as I finished. My wife, Kim, and a guy I'd never seen before. He was a light skinned African-American, maybe six feet, 175. He looked barely drinking age -- twenty-one. When I saw them, they seemed to be overly friendly -- from my point of view. The guy had his arm around Kim's waist. I stopped the mower, and jogged up to them. The guy took his arm from around her waist. He assumed a stance that indicated he expected trouble.

Kim and I had been married three years. She was twenty-three now and I was a year younger. We lived in a house that had belonged to my paternal grandmother, and had come directly to me when she died six years before. Kim and I moved in after our honeymoon, and had lived there ever since.

Kim is a very attractive woman, 5'6", slim, blonde with a pixie hairstyle and a nice smile. She was not smiling then, however. Nor did she look worried. If I had to put a name to her expression then it would be mildly amused.

I stopped about ten feet away from them.

"What's up, Kim? Who's this guy -- the guy with his arm around you?"

"This is Jamal. He's my boyfriend." Her expression turned into a smirk.

"No shit?" I looked at him, and he stared at me like one of those boxers at the meeting in the center of the ring before a boxing match. I admit it was intimidating. He had size on me, for sure. I'm Brian Bixler. I'm 5'10", and weigh in at 160. I have short brown hair and brown eyes.

I looked over at Kim. "Explain."

He piped up, in a peculiarly low pitched voice, "She did explain, pal. I'm with her now. You aren't."

I looked at her again. "Is that why you're here? To break up? You want a divorce?"

"Not necessary. I'm just going to have some time with Jamal. In fact, I have been having some time with him for a month. Maybe you've noticed."

"Well, whether you want one or not, that's what's going to happen. I have noticed some distance between us, lately."

"You don't want to divorce me, Brian. How will you ever find someone else as good as me? You just have to weather this thing. I'm having the time of my life with Jamal."

"Tell you what, both of you can get the fuck out of my sight, and off this property."

Jamal said, "You leave. We stay."

"It's my house. Not hers. I'll call the cops and have the both of you arrested."

Kim said, "You will not. I have your phone. I'm staying. I live here."

She waived the phone in front of me. She seemed to believe that Jamal would keep me from getting it. I grabbed it from her. It was a fast move. I always had great hand eye coordination and quickness. I started to punch in 911, when Jamal slapped me. It was a hard slap, and it was followed by another -- this time with his left hand. I was sent reeling, but I didn't drop the phone. I staggered away, looked down to dial. But he was on me before I could do that. I took several punches to the body, ribs, kidney, solar plexus. I collapsed onto the ground, clutching my gut.

Jamal reached down and took my phone. He put it on the patio and smashed it with his foot. He stood over me. Kim joined him.

She said, "It didn't have to be this way, Brian. You could have gone along with it. You can never win against Jamal."

I stared at her, saying nothing. I probably couldn't have spoken anyway. I lay back on the ground. Asshole Jamal came closer and put his foot on my chest, flexed. A victory pose. Kim giggled.

She said, "Jamal, don't lay it on so thick. Leave him some dignity."

"He's a wimp loser. He can't keep his woman and he can't defend his house."

He looked down at me, sneering. "I fight better than you, and I fuck better than you. You understand?"

I said nothing. He kicked me in the ribs.

"Do you understand, bitch?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Still not enough, boy."

"I understand, sir."

"Good. I'm happy we got that straight." He turned and walked away, into my house.

Kim stood over me, smiling -- smirking really. "Jamal has a nice apartment. We came to get some of my stuff. I'll be spending a lot of time there. But I'm not moving out of here. You can put your stuff in the basement bedroom. He and I will have the master suite. Do you understand?"

"No. Unless you kill me, you should leave and never come back."

"What? Jamal," she shouted, "He doesn't want us around."

Jamal came back outside. I still couldn't get up. He said, "We'll go when we get what she wants. But first I'm gonna fuck your wife in your bed."

He put his arm around her, and they went inside. I started to try to get up. I couldn't do it. I crawled toward the back gate, which led to a cluster of houses. I was about halfway there when I heard Kim screaming out in passion.

"Harder, harder, fuck me harder, Jamal."

I made the gate, and one of our neighbors from across the common lawn saw me crawling. It was Bob Billings. He ran up to me.

"What's wrong, Brian? What happened?"

I said, "No police. Can you take me to the emergency?"

"Okay. But you need to report this. You've been beaten. I can see that."

"Please," I huffed, "No cops. I'll deal with this. It's Kim, and I'll deal with it."

He supported me and took me to his car, called to his wife and drove me the one and a half miles to the emergency room. He supported me as I walked in. A nurse took one look at us and ran over, shouting for a transport.

I looked at her. She said, "What happened?"

"Fight. I lost." I gave Bob my wallet and he gave her the cards she needed. He put the wallet back by me and they hustled me off, inside the treatment area.

A guy came up, asked me where I hurt, and I told him -- 'My middle. Whole middle." He probed and pushed. I winced and screamed when he hit one spot. A nurse arrived and gave me a shot. That's all I recall until I woke up some time later -- after dark. I was in a small area, still at emergency. I was taped up. A new guy came in when I groaned.

"Mr. Bixler? You're awake. I'm Dr. Pittson. You have been severely beaten, but we've done some tests and there isn't any permanent damage to internal organs. You may be passing blood in your urine for a few days. We're not going to admit you, but you have to stay a while longer. Also, the police will be here soon."

"Do I have any choice in that?"

"No, it's been reported to them."

Two police detectives came into the space a few minutes later. Det. Smith was a young black woman. Det. Harvey was a white guy, maybe forty. They took a statement from me, and told me that they'd be back in touch. Smith told me that my attacker was Jamal Bennet, a young professional boxer. She said I was lucky to have come out of this with as little damage as I suffered.

I was released from the hospital that evening. I took a cab home. The place was dark. I went inside and found that Kim had removed most of her clothing. The bed was messed up, and the bedroom still smelled of sex. I arranged for a locksmith to come out right away, at a premium. He arrived an hour later. I had showered and dressed in sweats. I had all the locks changed.

I went on-line and checked the bank balances. All the money was still there. I opened an account at another bank in my name. I made the maximum deposit from the joint account. It wasn't enough, but I'd have to take care of that later.

I cancelled all the credit cards, except one I used for my work. Then I simply thought about what had happened, and what I would do about it. I'm a person who is regarded as easy-going. I present that side of myself to most of the world. But I am decidedly not easy going, in truth. I have a nice supply of inner rage. Often, I have considered the question of whether I was born like that, or whether my less than perfect childhood made me that way. I was never able to decide. My parents fought all the time. My dad left one night and never came back. Later he died in an industrial accident. He had life insurance, and I was his only child. The money was put into a trust for me. My mom went a little nuts after dad left. Basically, she had a moving feast of sex. I was twelve when he left. When I was sixteen, I took my GED test and passed. I enrolled in community college, and in a year I went to a large university, where I studied finance and accounting, with a minor in computer science. I graduated college at eighteen. I had no girlfriends to speak of until I met Kim at my eighteenth birthday party. It wasn't that I didn't like women. But my family life and my mother's promiscuity made me leery of them, and shy in speaking to them.

My eighteenth birthday party was held in the back room of a bar, in early February. I took my first legal drink there -- a beer. My buddies Harry, Bob and Jackson had invited some people from my classes. One was Kim. She was nineteen, and she was set to graduate. I had seen her in the finance and accounting classes. She was very pretty, and outgoing. I had been interested in her, but was too shy to do anything much about it. But the party provided a chance. She came in late. When I saw her there, I went right up to her and said hello.

"Well, well," she said, "he does speak. I thought you only talked in class."

"I...well, I'm shy." I smiled at her. She smiled back.

"No need to be shy." She looked me up and down. "But it's cute. I do believe I'll take you home for your birthday."

"Oh. You will? That's a joke?"

"Not a joke. You're mine tonight. You have no choice in the matter. After we eat cake and sing, just follow me." She was laughing, but I could see she was serious. Just then, the cake came out -- poppy seed. We cut it, and they sang the birthday song.

Kim tapped me on the shoulder. She crooked her finger at me, turned and walked away. I followed. Of course I followed.

She led me outside, turned and pulled me right to her, and kissed me like I'd never been kissed before. We broke the kiss, she took my hand and pulled me across the green, to a building just outside of campus. She had an apartment there. She led me into it and pulled me into the bedroom. There was a low light on. She started unbuttoning my shirt, and took it off me. I stepped out of my loafers. She had my belt unbuckled, and shoved my pants and boxers right down. I was rock hard.

"Oh, boy, a thick dick. I'm gonna use you all night." She licked the head of my cock, and sucked it into her mouth. I was completely overcome, and she sucked hard. It took maybe a minute for me to shoot off into her throat and mouth. She gulped it down.

Then she looked up at me, opened her mouth and showed me that she swallowed it all.

She said, "When I get you hard again, I'm gonna fuck you hard. Now you'll last long enough to get me off." She sucked my cock back into her mouth and I was erect again in a minute or so. When she was satisfied that I was hard, she pushed me onto her bed, and stood over me as she took off her blouse, bra, skirt, and panties. She waved her panties in my face, so I could smell them.

Then she straddled me and mounted me without any pause. Just like that, she took my virginity. She smiled at me as she lowered herself down. Then she leaned over and kissed me with tongue. At first the coupling was languid. But she began to be excited, and sped up her bouncing on me. She was moving hard and fast and I felt her contract around my cock. At that time she moaned and ground herself onto me. I was deep inside her and I could feel all the contractions and then twitches. She was growling. She started bouncing again. This time she was flat onto me, and her head was next to mine. Her motion was different. No matter -- she felt great. I was feeling it rise up within my cock. I was going to shoot off again, and she knew it. She picked up the pace, and when I couldn't hold back, I spurted into her, and she spasmed around me again. This time she screamed into my ear.

"Oh, God....Oh...Oh...G.." I was so happy after that. I knew that I had done well by her. And it felt so incredibly great.

She sat up. "Did you like it?"

"Oh yes. Better than anything."

"Was it your first time?"

"Yes. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. I had a great time as well. You have a nice fat cock. I like that. Makes me come more."

She got off me and looked at me lying there. She was so beautiful, then. I knew I'd always remember this, and how she looked then.

We did it three more times that night. She had a mission, she said, to show me how to please her. She taught me where to lick, how to press, and whatever she wanted me to do. The lessons went on and on. She especially liked being fucked very hard. Kim moved me into her place. And we got jobs locally after graduation. I was hired as a computer programmer for a local retailer. Kim was hired by an accountant. Walter Lurker had his own firm, with three employees -- four with Kim.

We got married after we had those jobs. We kept the apartment for some months, and then moved into my house when the renters vacated. I also had the money from my dad's insurance, since I turned eighteen. I hadn't seen my mom for some time, but she did come to the wedding. She had an older guy with her, that she introduced as her partner. Kim's parents lived in the next town over, and helped us with the arrangements. They were good folks. Her mom was a professor at the university, in mathematics. Her dad ran a remodeling business. Eileen and John Clark were unsure about the marriage, because of our youth. But they pitched in to help, and gave us a trip to Jamaica as a honeymoon gift. We had a great time there.

After about eighteen months of marriage, I decided to start up my own business, as a full service accounting, and computer supplier to small and medium sized business. I had my then employer as a first customer. They saved by having me be a contractor, not an employee. I soon added numerous small businesses to the client roster. A year into my start up, I had busted ass and made enough to hire two people. I admit that I wasn't at home as much as I should have been. But Kim and I still had good times, and good sex two or three times a week. Maybe we didn't go out as much as we did before I went on my own.

But, about a month before I got my ass kicked our sex life dried up. Maybe twice the whole month. I asked her about it, and she complained that I had ignored her because of the business. When I wanted to go out dancing, or to dinner, she didn't want to do that. And she was going out at night with 'the girls' fairly often. The Friday before my defeat she called at midnight to say that she was staying with a friend, because she had been drinking. She declined my offer to come get her.

So, I wasn't surprised to see her with this guy. I had looked up divorce laws the week before. It seemed that she had no claim in the house or on the money from the trust. My business, on the other hand, who knew?

As I sat there thinking this all through, with aching ribs, I looked up Jamal Bennet. He was an up and coming boxer, light heavyweight division. He had been an amateur champion and was backed as a pro by a syndicate. He had won his first three fights, all by knock out. No wonder he kicked my ass.

Sunday passed with no big incident. I was taking ibuprofen and felt better. I went for a short run. I also called Kim's parents and told them what had happened.

Her dad said, "Brian, I don't believe it -- what you said."

"Call her and ask. I'm sure she'll be with her boyfriend, unless he's locked up."

Marie interrupted, "She's always been -- erratic, Brian. She has spells. We never discussed those with you, because she hadn't suffered one since she was fourteen. This sounds like maybe she relapsed."

"Marie, I don't care, really. I have to get on with things. I'm sorry she's done this. I thought we were doing well, until the last month."

"We'll certainly be calling her. Have you a message?"

"No. Nothing needs to be said."

We hung up.

I had a thought. I called a home security firm, and had them come out on an emergency basis. They also arrived in an hour. We discussed what was needed. I had them install a system that would make a very loud noise if there was any incursion. It would also call the local police. It was all installed by dark on Sunday. Good thing, too. Because just after they left, I had a call on my cell from Kim. I didn't pick up. I listened to the voicemail after.

"You bitch! You told my parents. You asshole! I swear I'll get you for this. This time you won't get up."

I called the detectives and left a message. Smith called me back. I played the audio for her. She said that that was a crime -- threats. She'd get a warrant if I forwarded her the audio. I did.

Early Monday morning -- 2:00 am -- there was some noise at the door. I looked out the window. I had visited my gun safe in the basement, and I had a pistol. Kim and Jamal were trying to use her key on the door.

"I changed the locks, Kim. Leave now."

"No way. We'll get in."

But Jamal seemed less than certain that he wanted to do that. He pulled her away, and they got into a car and left.

I slept with the gun at my side. Nothing else happened.

Monday morning, I went to the office, gave out some instructions, and went to see a lawyer to solidify some things. I spent two hours there. I gave him a power of attorney and a set of instructions. Then I visited the bank and closed the joint account, and withdrew all of the savings account. I took the cashiers check down the street to deposit it in the new account. Then I dropped by a moving company, and a storage facility.

I went back to the office and spoke to my two employees about what would happen. We spent a good deal of time, Monday and Tuesday, discussing all of the accounts. I gave my second in command, Jane Drummond, permission to hire another person, if needed.

By Tuesday afternoon, the house was empty. I had the things I needed immediately in a back pack, or in the saddlebags of my motorcycle. A 'for rent' sign went up on the lawn of the house that evening. I stopped by a cell phone store and got a new phone, with a new number. I turned off the old one, stuffed it into the back pack, with no battery.

I called my buddy, Jackson Deal, who lived in Mountain City, a two hour ride away. He was expecting me when I pulled in there at 9:30 pm.

He met me at the door. He was working as a builder, and lived in a redone barn outside of town. He had married, and he and his wife, Jenna, had a one-year old daughter -- DeeDee. The barn was big, and I was shown to a room toward the back, where I stowed my stuff.

Then Jack, Jenna and I had some drinks and I told them my story. Jenna had known Kim pretty well in school. She was quite surprised at her behavior. She called it irrational.

Jack said, "Hang on, Brian, I saw something on ESPN a while ago." He fiddled with his phone. "Yep, here it is: 'Boxer Arrested for Assault.'" He read the short article that said Jamal had been arrested and charged with felony assault for an attack upon me -- the husband of his girlfriend. Bond had been set at $50,000.00, and posted.

I said, 'Okay. But no one knows where I am at the moment. I've been reading about the Paxton Farm. I may go there.

Jack said, "I know those people. They're about four miles up the mountain."

Jenna said, "Don't they teach some form of....violence?"

"Self-defense." I said that softly. "I want to hone some skills."

Jack whistled, "Man, I'm not sure about that. What's your plan?"

"I plan not to get my ass kicked anymore. I'm capable. I want an edge, though."

"You're gonna go after that guy, aren't you? That's foolish. He's a pro boxer."