Put It In Writing

"But honey, trust me. It's going to be so fun, so sexy, I know you're going to love it. Do this one thing for me just because you love me. You do love me, right?"

There it was. The "if you love me you'll_________" trap. Fill in that blank as you see fit. Do the ridiculous honey-do list on what should be a restful Saturday afternoon. Learn to waltz. Spend the summer building a ridiculous dog house. Shave your body, put on garters and hose, and let your wife tie you to a sturdy chair and have her way with you.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Honey-dos always suck. The dog house is embarrassing. There are better dances than the waltz. Then there comes the "tie you up while wearing women's undergarments thing." Being tied up at the mercy of your wife of 12 years may have a certain allure for some folks, but giving up control of myself totally was a definite downer. Shaving my body wasn't off the charts, I had been competitive both as a cyclist and as a swimmer when I was just a little younger, so it was only since I had stopped competing when my kids were born that my body hair had been allowed to grow at all. But it seemed like an awful lot of fuss for a simple roll in the hay. And then there was the whole garter and hose thing. Now some guys get into that, but I never had a vision of myself as anything but 100% male beefsteak.

Seriously, I'm not bragging when I say there is no feminine side to me, at least physically. Mentally, ok, I have a sensitive nature. I like puppies, cried at the end of Ole Yeller and The Champ. Oh yeah, and I still can't hear the music from ET without wishing Elliot could have gone along at the end. But I spent years on the bike and in the pool. And since I still run triathlons a couple times a year, I kept the fit, hard body. At forty two, my shoulders are broad, my legs strong, and a 6' 2" frame with a 44" chest and a 30 inch waist is a source of pride. So no, I can't envision garters and lacy things on my legs.

What I can envision is sex with my wife. She is six years younger, and loves taunting me with terms of endearment like "Old Fart," has gotten the kids calling me "Father Moses" and my biking club knows me as "Methusala." It's in good fun, and I take it well. I even had a cycling jersey made up in fluorescent green with "Methusala" printed on the back, so all those young bucks would know exactly who they finished behind. But that young little wife of mine can turn some heads. She has grown some nice curves as she has aged, but there isn't much junk in her trunk, and her smile as been known to melt mortal men.

She was using that weapon on me now. "If you REALLLLLY love me you'll do it." What's a guy to say? Only one conceivable answer will do. "Yes dear." And you'd better not make it sound a bit snide or sarcastic. When she says that, she is going out on a limb, risking her standing as your partner. That's her ultimate bet, her all in, she needs this hand, so if you love her, you give it up. I love Nina. I agreed.

Amidst the razors and the Nair there were professions of love and how much this meant. There were promises of favorite dinners and months of wild sex to pay me back for this weekend.

"Weekend! I didn't remember anything about a weekend?"

She had conveniently forgotten to tell me this would be more than a mere roll in the hay. The kids went to the country with her parents, and would be away until Sunday night. Yeah baby, Nina had a weekend of fun and games planned. She got me shaved and dressed in my sissy garb, then asked me to go down to the kitchen and make some lunch. She even had high heels that actually fit me and a frilly apron. I looked ridiculous. I wanted to stop. I couldn't walk in those fucking shoes. I not think she could either. She never went for the sexy shoes, aways voting for stylish comfort.

"Look. This means a lot to me. I've been planning a big fantasy weekend for weeks. I need you to do this for me. When we are done, I will do anything you ask. Anything. I know I will owe you....and if it all goes nicely, I will want to pay you...big time."

"Put that in writing."

It was an inside joke. Years ago, her Dad had forced us to sign a prenup. His brother had been badly burned in an ugly divorce, so he was sensitive to how easily a trusting partner can be burned if their trusted partner turns evil. I remember telling him at the time that I would never hurt his daughter, I loved her too much. His response?

"Put that in writing."

Ever since then, when one of us asked the other to go out on a limb, to trust, to take a leap of faith, the other one would giggle to put it in writing. And like the prenup, we always did. So I removed my body hair, dressed in lingerie, and headed down to cook. I can cook. And I did.

Did I tell you Nina is a nurse? Well thats her gig. But she never went to work looking like she did at lunch. The hem on her white dress was so short I thought she was missing a skirt. She Could wear heels, apparently, and they were brilliant white to match the dress and the lacy stockings held up by her own red garters. A deeply plunging neckline revealed more red lace cradling her beautiful breasts. She was made up, her hair done fancy, with a red nurses cap on top. Remember my dress? Nothing covering my baby maker? Well, that meant nothing to hide my appreciation for my wife.

"Damn woman, forget what I cooked. I think I need you for lunch."

"NO!"

Ok, I was startled at her tone. But I could forgive her in this state. After all she was sex on heels and I was definitely prepared to deal with that.

"The patient will refrain from sexual advances towards his caregiver. Now sit and eat lunch."

I sat. I ate. I stared. I drooled. My dick remained hard as steel.

When we finished, she slipped me a paper. She had put it in writing. I was to play her game unconditionally for the weekend. In return, she would never ask me to do this again. There would be things I would like, and things I might not, but I had to promise to remember she loved me tremendously, above anything else. She needed this to happen, and would do anything I asked in return when it was over. Anything. No limits.

No limits. I should have realized then that she had something less than pleasant planned, but my dick was hard, she looked amazing, and I trusted her. I had no inkling how far she would go. I followed her upstairs. She blindfolded me. She reassured me that she would not hurt me, as she bound my ankles to the chair. She told me how she loved me as she bound my wrists. She told me she had been thinking of so many sexy fantasies over the sat few months, she wanted to play them out. Did I like dressing girlie? Did I like being bound?

She cinched a belt that kept my torso locked in place, and two more to strap my shoulders down. My knees were bound with a lycra strap. I could pull them apart, but not for long. Then came the ultimate, a red rubber ball was shoved into my mouth, and strapped behind my head. I was helpless.

" I am going to play with you a lot, but not today. That comes tomorrow when I start making it all up to you. Today, I am going to tease you, bring you to the edge of your self control, then leave you to recover without satisfaction of any release."

I didn't like this. I didn't like being out of control. I didn't like being helpless. I don't like the word torture, and thats what his felt like. I didn't like her tone. She sounded evil, not like my partner at all.

"This weekend is all about me. I'm not turning back for any reason. I'll make the rest of our lives all about you, but this is what I need. So we're going to start by playing doctor and nurse. You are the patient. I am the nurse. We will start the exam."

She took my blood pressure. She took my temp. She listened to my lungs. She wrote my vital statistics on a triage form she had brought from work. She started an IV with a saline drip. "You'll need the fluids." She checked my eyes, and pronounced them sad. "Tough shit," she said. "This isn't about you."

The rectal exam was the worst. She released the Lycra, propped my knees apart and inserted a probe up my ass. She milked my prostrate emptying my balls. She left me sitting there in my own spunk with the Lycra replaced.

"I'm ready for you doctor," she called out.

She stared straight into my eyes with a smirk as her colleague, Jeff from the hospital strode in. He wore scrubs and a lab coat. He too looked at me with a smirk, and declared there was nothing he could do with me. I was an inferior specimen, with a small dick that obviously leaked cum uncontrollably. He would much prefer to examine the nurse.

I don't know what she expected to see in my eyes. But the smirk faded, and there was even a touch of...shame? She stopped looking my way. He took her in his arms and I felt my heart and soul break. He kissed her. She kissed him back with a passion that should only have been for me. I stared straight at her. He broke the kiss and came over to me.

"I get it," he said. "Lots of guys have this fantasy, watching your woman with another guy. The only people who will ever know are right here. I can keep your dirty little secret. Actually I can do,anything for a hot piece of ass like her. So if you want, later maybe we'll let you loose, and you can play out the game by licking us clean, or serving us drinks."

If only I were free. I would beat the shit out of this pretty boy and kick his nuts so hard they'd relocate to the back of his throat. I think he read that in my eyes, or something like it. His confidence broke and he stumbled backwards. The smirk disappeared.

But he recovered as Nina helped him up, and proceeded to relieve him of his clothes. His cock sprang to life.

He wasn't so big, he was smaller than me. I detected a look of disappointment in Nina's face. I guess when she planned to humiliate me while getting some strange, she wanted someone bigger. She avoided my direct gaze. It was indeed all about her today. They fucked. No foreplay or cuddling. He tore her clothes off, pressed her to the bed, and fucked my wife. When he finished he sprung to his feet, and went downstairs to prepare some wonderful snacks he had brought.

Nina stood up, clearly disappointed. She continued to avoid my glare. I knew what she felt. She loved sex, but what she really responded to were long sessions of kissing, massaging, and caressing. She loved long drwan out sensual pampering. She loved loving sex. If it was quick, just now with Jeff, basking in the afterglow was important. To be left alone after a quckie, without having cum, was not definitely her preferred modus operandi. I knew it. She knew it. And she knew it was in my mind at that moment. She walked over to me, leaned to my ear.

"Relax, we're just getting started."

She went downstairs with Doctor Doolittle. I heard them in the kitchen. Nina was louder than usual, putting on airs. I don't know if she was trying to impress Jeff or me more, but she wasn't being herself. They came upstairs, and Jeff walked right over to me.

"Now that you know what this is all about, we'd like some privacy. You'll wake up later, probably after dinner, and you can watch us fuck some then. We might even involve you a bit, wouldn't that be nice? Maybe you could suck my cock and fluff me up to do Nina again! Or maybe you'd like to clean her pussy afterwards. Maybe you can do both! I'm going to teach Nina how to ruin an orgasm for you, so you will be docile when I come over to play in the future...."

"Jeff wait..."

"NINA! Quiet. I told you I'd take care of him, now let me do as I promised! You just sit there on that beautiful bed of yours, yours and your husband's! And get that pussy of mine wet for round two! Now I'm going to put this little girl you call a husband to sleep."

I struggled against the bonds. The last bit of control I had was in the power of witness. That was now being robbed as he placed the needle into the IV line. Nina looked on with some concern, but didnt stop the mad doctor.

"Now tell me when you feel that three beer feeling...."

There it was. And darkness fell.

I don't remember the dreams. When I woke up it was dark. The room was empty, and smelled like sex and urine. The urine was me. I had released while drugged, and though the combination of dried semen and piss felt unpleasant, my body ached worse everyplace I was bound to the chair. I remember buying that chair at the antique shop, declaring it to be of amazing quality and sturdy enough to hold anything. I was hungry, sore, and broken hearted. My lips were chapped from being pressed into the crappy tasting gag. I was cold. All in all, I felt broken.

Time passed. I don't know how much. It felt like weeks, but the sun never came up, so it was all within that same night. I heard the garage door open, and the familiar sound of Nina's car as it pulled in. I heard the door close, and footsteps coming upstairs. They came in the room, flipped the lights on and shouted for me to wake up.

"Let the teasing begin."

I intended to kill him at my first opportunity.

Nina was less than enthusiastic about learning to edge me under Jeff's tutelage. So was I. He wanted to get me excited, and stop for a couple hours, and culminate the experience with a ruined orgasm. Then he wanted to fuck to satisfaction while I watched, totally frustrated. But no matter how or what they tried my dick wouldn't erect. I was in no mood for arousal. It spoiled Jeff's first plan, one small victory for me. Nina should have read that signal and seen that something was wrong with her scheme. She should have realized how angry I was, how far from turned on I was, and how close our marriage was drawing to the brink, if it wasnt already over. Should have. Didn't.

Jeff took his dick out, and came over to slap my face with it. Well that didn't work out well. He didnt have a lot to slap with, and couldnt figure out how to place himself over a seated target effectively. Plan two, victory to me.

I guess he figured how bad he was looking, and how he was losing Nina's attention to the games. He went to her, and began to make love. Yes, he must've learned something in the afternoon sessions I slept through. He did a better job. No oral, he wouldn't go down on a pussy that wasn't fresh you see, even by his own hand, or his own dick. What an ass.

This time, when he finally mounted her, and she was responding like she actually was enjoying it at least a little, he pressed his face against hers, and locked her face where I could see it. Just as she began to cum, right in the middle of her groan of release, that sound I knew so well, she opened her eyes, and I locked them to mine. She knew. In that eye to eye exchange, she knew we were broken.

Jeff had no clue what happened. This time he came over to me, determined to physically humiliate me. He pushed the chair over so that I would be on my back, still bound. He ripped the gag off me, with the strap gashing my forehead. He lowered his dick to my face, and slapped me.

"Open your mouth and clean my cock, pussy."

Wrong thing to say.

"Jeff no, stop....."

Right thing to say. But for Nina, too little too late. Enraged, he pummeled and pried at my jaw. I opened my mouth in defense. He slid his little pecker in. Why would anyone put a dick in the mouth of someone they have pissed off? I closed my mouth in offense. I didn't bite his dick off, but I hurt it real bad. But alas, I was still tied, I was still weakened from the anesthesia. I was easy prey. He beat me. He continued to bash my face long after consciousness had left my body. Somewhere in the process, I heard Nina scream, but the inevitable just cant be stopped. That's what inevitable means. He inevitably turned my face to pulp.

I didn't meet the EMT's who took over the treatments on me that my wife had started. I didn't meet the officers who arrested Jeff, and later Nina. I didn't see my kids come home, or hear their grandparents screaming at their daughter after bailing her out. My concussion was so significant I was kept in an induced coma for a week to let the swelling in my brain dissipate. My jaw was broken along with other key spots in my face, skull and collarbones. I woke up in the hospital when they brought me out of the coma, but couldn't stay awake for more than a minute or two.

When I was finally able to stay awake, the docs told me I would require a series of surgeries to repair my face. I would recover, and look like me again, but I had six months of procedures and bandages to look forward to. Then came the cops. Jeff and Nina faced numerous charges, including rape, assault and battery, reckless endangerment, illegal restraint, and illegal use of drugs. Jeff was licensed to administer the sedative drugs to me, but doing so without my consent and under the circumstances surrounding their use was unethical and as illegal as it could be. They were both under restraining orders to stay away from me and my home.

Ironically, my wife and kids had moved in with her parents until this sorted out. Funny, Nina couldn't come near me, but was an still acceptable guardian to our kids in the eyes of the courts. When I finally regained my strength, I went home to an empty house. All my family's clothes, and personal items were gone. The bed was made, everything was clean, and empty. It echoed. I did manage to find that last paper she had signed. It was tucked into a shelf in the kitchen right where I had left it. Her promise that when this was over, she'd do anything I wanted. She'd spend the rest of her life making it up. I intended to hold her to it, but maybe not as she had intended.

I scanned the note, and emailed it to her with my own note below.

"Anything I want. It's in writing. Have your parents bring the kids home, where they belong. You stay away. Simple, huh? Your parents can arrange for you to see the kids. They will not ever mention you to me. No need to waste money on a divorce, unless you plan to marry someone else. We're as good as divorced already. If you go that way, you know I will take every thing. I have it all in writing."

I sued the hospital and Jeff. I won big time.Jeff lost his license, but it didn't matter. He was in jail for 8-10 years. Nina lost her license too, and was forbidden to take any kind of job caring for people. Too bad, she was a fine nurse. She finally took a job as a dispatcher with our towns 911 service.

I cared for my kids like Superdad. We went to see sights, take adventures, hit the best vacation spots. Hey, I had money to burn. I spoiled them rotten courtesy of Dr. Doolittle and County General.

Their grandparents had been stuck with the explanations of why Mommy was in jail while I was still at the hospital. To their credit they were very sensitive to the kids' needs, and even had a counselor from school there to help see it through. Apparently my wife made no excuses to them when she was released on bond. She explained how she had hurt me, and now had to pay for her foolish whim. She left out the sexual deviance, but in every other way represented how she had betrayed me, our marriage, and their family.

My face recovered. The docs were close, my facial reconstructions actually took closer to 9 months. That was short stuff. It took close to 10 years for me to recover mentally. Ten years of intense therapy and social adjustment.

I went back on the local triathlon circuit and did very well. But if 42 is kind of Methusala-ish, then 52 drops the -ish, and soon my competitive edge was limited to my age group. My kids followed my footsteps, and my son is now bringing the family name back into top finisher lists, while my daughter prefers swimming in pools. She's off to college next year on a swimming scholarship.

I never found anyone to replace Nina. No one could. Oh I found sex partners, and even a couple of women that captured a piece of my heart. But it didn't take a genius to recognize that my heart had been captured and broken by one woman years ago. Other women couldn't compete.