This is story number four. It has a different perspective than the others, albeit, hopefully an enjoyable read. Once again, your comments are not only welcome, but appreciated. Those comments which are unkind and not constructive are ignored. No animals were hurt during the fabricating of this story, although some feelings may have been hurt. Too bad, so sad.
I do not write erotic stories, preferring to stay in the realms of relative reality. It is certain many coming seeking erotica, they are welcome to it. The reason I say relative reality is that most erotic stories are beyond reality; relative to that which is real.
I appreciate human decency, preferring to look on the positive side of human nature. Most of my stories will focus on win-win situations, designed to either amuse or produce good feelings.
Remember, it is all fiction.
"What Goes Around, Comes Around"
I was driving home from work, slowly. I was hoping for a flat tire or some other failure that might prevent me from getting there. A sane and reasonable man might think I had lost it. In reality, I have lost it. The "it" is my marriage, family and hope for the future.
You see, her father owns the company where I work. He holds the mortgage on our home and dotes on his daughter, my wife. The problem is she has decided to take control of the family, the finances, the children and ME.
This disaster came about by influence by her friend Irma. Irma is on her fourth marriage at the age of 30, and it is not on solid ground.
Let me go back to the beginning. I was fresh out of the Marine Corps, and started my first year of college at Kent State. I served a full eight years, but had to get out on a minor disability. Marines are warriors, no doubt, especially those of us who were in the Recon Battalion of my division. (For you fact finders, I was a Reconnaissance Sniper (0322) MOS). We trained hard, were hard and knew how to get the job done. My specialty was a sniper using the 50-caliber sniper rifle. I was good and could take out a target at 2,000 yards, there being 1,760 yards in a mile. The target is dead before the sound gets there.
I met my wife, Jennifer, at Kent State in my junior year. I was studying chemical engineering as I did well with it in high school. Her major was Business Administration with her eye on taking over her father's business one day.
I am not a particularly handsome guy. I stand at 5' 10," weigh in at 175, having a medium frame and ruddy complexion. My name is Randy Jackson, son of James and Mary with two brothers and a sister.
Jennifer, was a little on the heavy side, had an acne problem and a body more deserving of a Studebaker than that of a Corvette. Nevertheless, we hit it off, dated steadily and married after college. All seemed well.
We had three children; Mike at 14, Carol at 12 and Tommy, 10. I loved my children, spending as much time with them as I could. My Marine experience of living in the wilds in tents came in handy when I took them camping. Jennifer did not like the idea of sleeping in a tent, so she declined.
Camping was great fun, we hiked, fished, swam, taking advantage of the great parks. The kids were excited, sometimes their friends tagged along. I taught them how to survive the wild, which plants, lizards and insects were safe to eat. Amazingly the little goblins did a great job of gobbling. Life was good.
Jennifer and I worked for her father. She was immediately in the management ranks with all the special privileges. I reported to the manager of Research. The company was well respected in its production of medications.
Her hobnobbing with the upper echelon excluded me except when there was a holiday party or something similar. She was often off jet-setting to different places around the globe, sometimes several weeks at a time. I became a house husband, taking care of the children.
It was 15 years in when Jennifer's resentment of me became nearly unbearable. She was quick to let me know she was management and I was not much above a peon. She began to extend this into the family, expecting me to answer to her beck and call.
Irma did not help, but only made it worse. This brings us back to the start and my reluctance to go home. Jennifer was going to let me know when I got home, there were going to be new rules laid down and I would comply.
Some snooping found five rules I knew were coming were:
She declared the freedom to be in the company of other men at her choosing.
I would remain celibate, wearing a chastity cage when she was traveling.
I would be responsible for housekeeping, yard work and tending the children.
My paycheck would be direct deposited into her account, from which I drew a minor allowance.
