Sticing to a Plan

The election season got me thinking.

Please read my profile for my stance on feedback. Feel free to email suggestions or start a conversation. Private messages work too.

Gordon Lightfoot: "It's there you will find all the love I couldn't give. It's there you will stay, for as long as you may live."

+ + + +

A few months ago my wife, Connie, came up with an idea.

"Sonny, some of the ladies in our political support group think we should become volunteers for Senator Stickler's re-election campaign."

"We who?"

"You and I."

"Oh Really! What's involved? Is anyone else signing up for this?"

"I don't think anybody else is all that interested. From what I understand, up until the election, it would be as much time as we are willing to donate. We'd be traveling around the state helping with fundraising events. I'd imagine we'd be doing whatever was needed at the time."

"What about my job?"

"You have what, twenty some weeks of vacation you haven't used. Take a few months off. I think this would be a blast."

I had to hand it to her. This was totally out of character for us. We'd been married for twenty two years and both kids were now in college. Having an empty nest was very different. Nothing we had ever done was this spontaneous. It did have a certain appeal about it.

"Get some more detailed information. If we're on the road, who pays for what, things like that. Do we feed ourselves? Are we required to wear uniforms? Find out what you can."

The information we received wasn't a show stopper. It was a little more out of pocket than I'd hoped, but we could afford it. Senator Stickler's name had been tossed around as a possible presidential contender in eight or twelve years. Who knows, maybe we'd get the chance to work on a presidential campaign too.

+ + + +

I started my job two years before Connie and I were married. One of the other hires, who started the same day, was Vanessa Bromley. She wasn't Bromley at the time. That's her married name. She's been divorced for about ten years now. We were equals along the way until she took maternity leave. After that, I seemed to get the promotions and spotlight jobs. She's been reporting to me for four years now. You could not ask for a more dedicated employee.

Although nothing inappropriate as ever taken place, when we are alone Vanessa refers to me as her next ex. She's made it very clear that I would have no choice in the matter if I ever came back on the market. Our employer does not have a non-fraternization policy. They don't want any legal exposure on something they really can't control. That's not to say that some haven't been sent packing after letting their personal relationships cloud their loyalty to the company.

Connie doesn't fully trust Vanessa. What's that old saying? 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.' That's Connie. We've had Vanessa over for many of our block parties. I think Connie is just gauging whether Vanessa and I act strangely. Since nothing had ever occurred, it's easy to act naturally.

There's no travel in my job. Connie worked as a temp until she became pregnant. Ever since she's been a stay at home mom. When the kids were in school, she volunteered at the school. Only recently did she try the temp job thing again, but she's woefully unqualified for today's workplace. So now she and her posse volunteer for whatever needs saving.

Not once have I ever suspected Connie of a physical or an emotional affair.

+ + + +

We filled out the necessary paperwork and passed the background checks. He was not thrilled, but my boss agreed I could take the time off. Vanessa was named my temporary replacement.

"Hey next ex. I get to be you for ten weeks!"

"Try not to fire my best employees."

"I've got a little more backbone than that last guy. You probably won't fit in when you get back."

"Listen to you. If you end up overwhelmed, just call. It's ok if I'm the only one that sees you crying."

"Ha! Ha! Ha! I may call you, you know, if things get weird. I expect some of the guys to test my resolve. They are treading on thin ice if they do."

"I'm here for you Vanessa. Gotta go. Talk with you soon."

"Thanks next ex. Later."

With little fanfare, Connie and I spent our first day as campaign volunteers. We were one of three older couples amongst a slew of college aged men and women. On Wednesday, before that night's fundraising event, we were introduced to the Senator. I'd seen him on television for the last twelve or so years so meeting him in person didn't do much for me. Connie, however, was acting like a teeny-bopper at a boy band concert.

Henrick Stickler was full of himself. I suspect he fancied himself a ladies man. The way he treated the male volunteers was quite dismissive. The ladies were kissed on the forehead, hugged, and touched on the arms, back, neck, and cheeks. He was somewhat shorter than most at maybe five eight and easily above two hundred pounds. He was not physically fit and was easily winded.

"Connie, watch yourself around Henrick. I don't like how he's all touchy feely with the women."

"Geezers Sonny, he's simply a very outgoing person. Get a grip."

We filled our days making phone calls, posters, copies, coffee, and being go-fers. You certainly don't need to be in the upper ninety percent of the graduating class to do this stuff. We used all sorts of adhesives making these displays. When we had a trophy or other heavy item to secure to the poster board, we'd use super glue. You have to be extra careful with that stuff as you can easily glue your fingers together. I did it once and it took three days before I could pry them apart. Even using the internet solutions, to loosen the grip of the glue, I still lost several layers of skin when I finally got them separated. Those two fingers are still trying to heal and can be quite painful at times. Apparently the glue prevents the skin from breathing and you lose several layers of skin.

Every few days I was back at the office supplies store for another case of super glue, duct tape, paper glue, poster boards, and staples. Between the different types of glue, and all of the other crap, the campaign was spending thousands. When you considered the life span of some of these things, which was a couple of hours during the fundraising dinners, the waste was staggering.

Connie seems to be addicted to these smoothie drinks, so I head out two or three times a day to get her fix. What sounded like a fun way to spend a few months was turning into a mindless waste of time. I'm no more inclined to vote for Stickler than his opponent.

Henrick was making the same speech every chance he got.

'I've got a plan. I'm going to stick to it and I'm going to stick it to Washington.'

Trouble is he's been there for two terms and all he's done is pad his pockets. I doubt he's ever introduced a meaningful piece of legislation. Voting along party lines is all he ever does. If his opponent didn't appear to be just as sleazy, I'd quit this experiment.

+ + + +

Our home life was taking a beating. The long hours, and time spent driving, meant sex was happening, well, not at all. Connie kept updating her Facebook page with pictures from each fundraising event.

Again and again 'Here I am with Senator Stickler.'

Every picture showed his hands somewhere on her. At a minimum, she was star stuck.

Several attempts at breaking my celibate streak were shot down when I complained about Connie's behavior around Henrick.

"Connie, what's gotten into you? You hang on every word Henrick speaks and are like a puppy dog following him around. Do I have to worry about the two of you?"

"I can't believe you. What? Are you jealous of a successful man? Is that it? I like him. He's got money, power, and prestige. He's also got a wife."

And then she stomped away and slammed the bedroom door.

I'd quit this campaign if Connie did too. That suggestion resulted in another shouting match. This election can't come soon enough. Stickler was leading in the polls, but not by more than the sampling margin of error, so it was still in doubt. With two weeks to go it was all hands on deck.

+ + + +

We were three hours from home and getting ready for tonight's fund raising dinner. Henrick had just entered the ballroom and was busy schmoozing. My hands were full of brochures to be handed out this evening. I had just returned from picking them up and had not seen Connie yet.

"You're Sonny Tenaces, right?"

I turned to find a man with a manila folder "That I am. How can I help you?"

"My name is unimportant, call me James. I'm an investigator for some people who have an interest in seeing Senator Stickler lose the election. I have some things to show you that might convince you to join our cause."

I glanced around not sure what to make of this guy. It didn't look like anyone was watching us.

James continued "Walk with me."

We walked towards the hotel lobby while my world unraveled.

"Sonny, your wife and Henrick are having an affair. Nine times over the last four weeks she has joined him in his suite immediately prior to a fundraising dinner. The pictures in this folder show her coming and going on those occasions. There are pictures on my phone of this afternoon's encounter. He leaves first, while she showers. She left his suite about ten minutes ago."

James pulled up the pictures from today. My stomach was churning and I was close to hyperventilating.

"You should sit if you're going to look at the pictures in the folder. Twice we were able to get pictures of their sexual encounter."

I couldn't do it. My marriage is over but I didn't think I wanted those images haunting me forever.

"How do I know these aren't staged?"

"I guess you don't know. He's kind of a pervert and bites his women on their ass. Have a look see tonight if you doubt me. See if this sounds familiar. Henrick slips her a room keycard, which she puts into her sweater pocket. She then finds you, and gives you a task which sends you out of the building. When you return she's freshly fucked and you're clueless. If you look close enough you'd probably notice that whatever you were sent to pick up was available at noon, but you weren't sent to get them until after 4 pm."

About ninety minutes before each fundraising dinner, I'm sent out to pick up copies or to buy something. Today was no different. Fucking slut. The receipt for the brochures I picked up today showed they were ready this morning.

"Well you have my attention. Why are you recruiting me?"

"Of the many women Henrick is currently fucking, we believe you are not the type to take this lying down. We're not sure of the others."

"Well you've read me correctly. I will not go quietly."

James went on to describe how much they would like to see a very vocal and demonstrative marital meltdown. He was willing to give me ten thousand dollars for my emotional distress. He flashed an envelope which I assumed was the cash.

Fuck it! I opened the folder with the pictures and there it was. The act of biting her naked ass, cum dripping from his cock. His fucking small cock. She pissed away a twenty two year marriage for this asshole?

I grabbed the money envelope "Not tonight, but very soon, the shit will hit the fan. Count on it."

"There's also a business card in there for one of our attorneys who is willing to represent you pro-bono."

James smiled and patted me on the back as he left. I went out to my car and put the envelopes in the trunk. A quick count confirmed it was ten grand. I put the attorney's card in my wallet. No longer was I interested in helping the campaign, so I didn't return to the ballroom until the event was breaking up. Why did this happen? I was sick. How could I have meant so little to her? Happily ever after wasn't meant to be.

As I sat there fuming, I pulled the attorney's card out and called his office. Grant took my call and it was a very productive chat. He was tasked with preparing the petition for divorce. Grant did catch me off guard.

"Sonny, if your revenge results in the police getting involved, don't say a thing. Get me involved immediately."

"Thanks for the advice Grant. I haven't decided what to do, but I'm not prone to violence."

"Well, he is a powerful man, and once you piss him off, who knows how low the slime ball will sink."

I spent the next two hours trying to come up with a suitable revenge. A million ideas were flooding my brain, but I had absolutely no idea how to pull off any of them. I wasn't going to have Connie served until after I took my pound of flesh from the pair.

+ + + +

"Where in the hell have you been? Don't you answer your phone anymore? I was worried sick that something happened to you!"

"I wasn't feeling well. Guess I misplaced my phone. Ready to go?"

"We still have to help clean up."

"I'm leaving. You coming with me or are you getting your own ride?"

"Just go. I'll catch up with you later."

On the road, the workers are put up in cheap motels. Crushed, I drove the three miles to my room. It gave me time to entertain my rage. Having warned the bitch, she's earned everything that was coming her way.

I wanted revenge. Not just on Connie but her scumbag lover. Hopefully I could tank his chances for the election. The more pain I can inflict, the better.

Connie got back to the motel over two hours later. She'd been drinking. I no longer cared.

+ + + +

I showered and dressed first in the morning. We were headed home for two days before the next fundraising dinner. Connie was sleeping in her nightgown and panties. I pulled the covers back and yanked her panties down.

She woke up quickly "What the fuck are you doing? After the way you acted yesterday you aren't getting any of that!"

I didn't want to fuck her diseased cunt. I wanted to see if there were any bite marks. My heart sank at the sight of several bite marks. We're done.

"I'm leaving for home in fifteen minutes, with or without you."

Connie skipped the shower and was bitching nonstop the entire three hour trip home. I really pissed her off.

"It's so cute how you think I'm listening."

I'd never heard such a profanity laced tirade. Somehow I'm the problem here. If I thought I could get away with it, I'd open her door and kick her out at seventy miles per hour.

Once home I found our dog, Sausage, was lethargic so I took him in to see the vet. Anything to get away from her at this point. As we were waiting in the examination room, I noticed a bottle of chloroform sitting on the counter. A sinister revenge plan seemed to appear out of thin air. I pocketed the bottle.

After Sausage was given an antibiotic shot, I headed back home. Kiss that C note goodbye. Although it was damn hard, I tried to act as normal as possible. It was forty eight hours of cold shoulders and dining alone. I snuck off and got tested for STDs. I couldn't remember the last time we'd had sex. There was no need to wait for my dick to fall off if we did have sex since her slut genes kicked in.

The four hour drive to my final fundraiser was quite chilly as hardly a word was spoken, except of course for the demands to stop so she could piss. It was tempting to just pull off the road and invite her to do a perk test. The silence was much better than listening to her whine about how I just didn't understand what a statesman Stickler was. Every time I thought about my plan I broke into a smile.

"Please try to act positive. Your attitude has been horrible recently."

"Got it. I think Henrick is fucking up this campaign good enough without my help. It's only a matter of time until one of his groupies pulls his cock out and sucks it in front of everybody."

"Gawd, you're pathetic. He's a gentleman and a leader. You're just jealous."

+ + + +

Around 3 pm I gave Connie the smoothie she'd asked for a while ago. This one was spiked, more than a little, with a laxative. I'm looking for some bowel action in a few hours. Now the wait begins.

I watched Henrick, and around 4 pm he gave Connie a hotel room keycard. Exactly as the investigator indicated, she headed back to where our coats were draped. Like a creature of habit, she put the keycard in the pocket of her sweater. Connie made her way over to me, and guess what, I'm supposed to go get some brochures at a store about a mile away. I waited until she was distracted then claimed the keycard from her sweater. The room number, three twenty one, was written in ink on the plastic card.

Taking my duffle bag of goodies, I headed to the men's room and changed. My appearance was radically different. The traffic in and out was brisk so I had no trouble blending in with my new identity. My duffle bag of goodies was under my baggy shirt. The third floor stairwell door had a window in it, so I lingered there acting as if I was on a phone call.

Ten minutes passed before the snake entered the room. A minute later the slut emerged from the elevator and started frantically searching her sweater for the key. She knocked a few times before Henrick answered. He jerked her arm hard pulling her into the room.

I gave them a minute to get their party started then strolled towards their door. I paused long enough to hear the rutting "Oh, oh, harder, more, more."

Wearing nitrite gloves, I slipped the keycard in. The door light turned green and I quietly entered the room. It was a suite and I could see the action happening in the bedroom. Connie's sagging boobs were swaying with each thrust as Henrick fucked her doggy style. He had only taken his shoes and pants off. It looked odd to see a guy in black socks between a woman's legs. Connie was in her birthday suit. It was a sight I wasn't prepared to watch. That wasn't my wife that was some crack whore. She was just a cum bucket for him. Why would she throw away a twenty two year marriage for this? Don't know, don't care. She did and it's a done deal.

With a rag soaked in chloroform, I wrapped my left arm around Henrick's neck and used my right hand to cover his mouth and nose with the rag. The struggle was minimal, although he did get a hard elbow shot into my ribs. Connie, with her head buried in the pillow, really didn't pick up on the commotion.

"No, no, don't slow down. More, more, more!"

Henrick collapsed to the floor. I did the same left arm right hand maneuver with Connie. She slumped onto the bed.

Moving unconscious people around is not as easy as I was hoping. I definitely need to start working out. First things first, I completely stripped Henrick and pulled him up onto the bed. I shoved Connie to the edge of the bed. She fell off, oops.

Grabbing an unused wash cloth from the bathroom, I dried both Henrick's cock and Connie's pussy lips. I also wiped Connie's face clean of her makeup. Opening one of the large bottles of super glue, I proceeded to glue Connie's pussy lips together, not completely, so she'll be pissing like a shower head. Coating Henrick's cock completely, with extra on his cock head, I stretch pulled it underneath his balls and glued it near his asshole. It's amazing how far you can stretch a cock. I made sure to pinch the penis opening closed. Losing several layers of skin here is going to sting. My plan was to push his butt cheeks together to pin his cock in place. That wasn't going to work so I simply pressed firmly until his cock was stuck in place. That was a lot easier than I thought it would be. My ribs hurt so I stuck the tip of the glue bottle in the bastard's asshole and gave it a squirt. He can't piss or shit now. Thinking about the laxative, I glued Henrick's upper lip to his nostrils. He'd have to breathe through his mouth, and he won't be able to shut it.

After centering Henrick on his back, in the middle of the bed, I maneuvered Connie up onto the bed and spun her around into the sixty nine position. With a few adjustments, I positioned Connie's asshole to point at Henrick's mouth. There were a few inches separating them. I applied glue to both sides of Henrick's face and Connie's inner thighs. After a minute of pressure, they were stuck together.