I Was Cured

This is a sequel to the excellent story "Race for the Cure" by Edrider73 which should be read first for this story to make sense. "Race for the Cure" builds a sense of unnerving, fear and even repulsion in a way that a good horror story should. The fact that Edrider73 can do this, and in so few words is a testament to his writing skills. He has graciously given me permission to publish my sequel to his work, and I thank him for that.

For my part I tried to add some black humor to the situation and to tell it from the perspective of the husband Vito. In addition, many stories of infidelity are black and white and I wanted to try and add a little grey.

I would like to give many thanks HMAuthor for her editing skills and effort. I hope my changes have lived up to her comments.

As I have already eluded to this is a dark tale. It includes public humiliation and pain so you might want to skip it if that's not your thing.

Finally, this is my first attempt at fiction since high school over twenty five years ago and I'm sure it shows. All comments are welcome, but I would really appreciate those that tell me why it falls short and what I can do to improve.

"Well, what's it to be?" asked my wife with an impish grin that belied the seriousness of the situation.

I had been completely blindsided. My wife of twelve years had just informed me that she had entered me into some perverse medieval race where I ran the very real risk of losing my testicles if I wasn't fast enough on my feet. What made matters worse was that she was not just OK with that possibility, but seemingly downright pleased about it.

It's very complicated, and even more fucked-up, but I'll try my best to explain. As punishment for cheating on my wife I would be 'dressed' in some ridiculous rope shirt getup that slowly tightened and cut off the circulation to my testicles. Another man and I would then run around the town square 50 times before the twine would be removed, hopefully in time for there to be no permanent damage. Additionally, the rope shirt held a vibrator in my ass and a stimulating sheath on my penis, and the longer I could hold out from cumming the faster I would be able to run. That's it in a nutshell, but please direct any questions to my wife as I have plenty of my own that need answering.

I had of course tried to reason with Nellie but she refused to hear it as she knew that I had repeatedly betrayed her. She had the photographs, taken over several months by a private investigator showing me being intimate with other women in the various hotels I had used when traveling. I don't know how he had taken them but she Nellie refused to show them to me until I confessed.

The last eighteen months or so of our marriage had been on a steady decline and nothing I had tried did anything to correct its downward course. To compound matters I had to travel for work more than usual and the dearth of sex at home made the temptation of getting some 'strange' too much at times. I was counting on this trip to Testonia to build our relationship back up but now it appeared to be razing what was left to the ground.

However this so called punishment where there is the very real risk of castration was inhumane, definitely unusual and certainly did not fit the crime. When I told her that she just laughed and told me that I was responsible for the position I found myself in and it was up to me whether I would lose my testicles or not.

As we went back and forth it was very disconcerting to see that she was getting off on the power she wielded over me but seemed irked that I wasn't collapsing into a heap confessing all and begging for forgiveness.

Finally she laid back on the bed. "I asked you a question Vito. Do you want to desensitize yourself for tomorrow's race? I'm here. Are you are man enough to make love to me."

Seeing no movement from me she spat, "Or can only get it up for your cheating sluts?"

She then apparently took exception when I then indicated that I only would have sex with a sane woman, and her resulting sudden leap from the bed almost knocked me to the ground. "OK, that's how it's going to be is it? You know Laima asked me if I wanted to go dancing this evening and leave you to stew, but I foolishly said I would help you through this. Obviously you don't deserve my help!" she yelled at me.

She was immediately on the phone to Laima telling her she was available after all and made quite a show of choosing her most revealing dress, one that showed plenty of cleavage and leg, and one that I loved to see her wear. There was no way she could have worn a bra but I have to admit that when she considered and then returned a thong to the drawer my heart sank.

"How do I look dear?" Nellie asked knowing full well she could give a corpse a hard-on.

"Gorgeous as usual," and I really meant it but since it was clear she was dressing that way for other men it was hard to get the words out. I didn't want her to sense my dismay but I imagine I wasn't doing a very good job of hiding it.

"You know Vito, Laima said that Testonian men are great dancers, and I'm really looking forward to being held close by some of those big beefy arms that seem to be attached to most of the men in this town," She said through a broad lascivious smile.

"I'm leaving now. I'm going to send one of the nice farmers in to make sure you don't try to jump from a window or let's say do any manual desensitization. Don't wait up, you need your sleep!" she giggled, clearly amused at her attempt at humor. One of the guards grinned at me as he entered and I got the feeling it would make his day if I tried to escape. She closed the door without looking back and with that she was gone.

I don't know how long I stared at the wall wondering how our "fix it up" vacation had morphed itself into a living hell. I shook my head and let out a sigh.

Before I could start to feel too sorry for myself the image of my grandmother's face of disapproval forced its way into my mind's eye. Nona had raised me singlehandedly and while she looked like every other grandmother in the neighborhood she was as sharp as a whip and tough as nails. She permitted few weaknesses and self-pity was not one of them.

The bullet-hole scar in her neck was the only physical sign of a lifetime of injustices and hardship lived by Nona. As a 10 year old child in Sicily she found herself the sole survivor of a Cosa Nostra hit on her family. Her father had spoken out about corruption and when he was asked to run for Mayor he became a problem that needed to go away. The gunmen had left her for dead and had it not been for the village doctor that hid her until she healed they would have succeeded. Knowing that they would be back to finish the job she if she stayed she stowed away on a cargo ship bound for the US to find an uncle in a place called New Jersey.

With little formal education and no English, and armed only with a single minded determination she started to rebuild her life in the U.S. Nothing was insurmountable and within a year she was practically fluent in English and explaining algebra to her classmates. But one thing she could not overcome was the social stigma of being an Italian immigrant and a female one at that. By the end of high-school all doors to decent paying employment were closed to her so after meeting a man she applied all of her energies and skills into family life. Unfortunately that man was an abusive, drunken lout who one day just disappeared leaving Nona alone again, only this time with a six year old daughter.

Many years later, after my mother was killed by a drunk driver Nona didn't hesitate. Even approaching seventy she knew she would be raising another child.

Up until that point, if you were being kind you could have called me rebellious, but if you were being accurate I was a complete little shit, headed nowhere fast. My only positive quality was that I happened to be very good looking although I even managed to abuse that.

All modesty aside in addition to looks it didn't hurt that I could sell sand to the Arabs. My virginity was long gone and I drank from the neighborhood pool of pussy from many sides, often at the same time. I was too young to be married of course but it didn't take me long to realize that talking commitment was a very effective way into the pants of many a soon-to-be-sorry young lady. Once there I dumped them and moved on to the next conquest. I never boasted about my success but that was mainly to prevent knowledge of my game from drying up the gullible supply. My lies and bullshit did however have a crushing effect on many of the girls once resulting in an attempted suicide. Of course I got beaten a couple of times by the brothers of the girls I played but it was a small price to pay.

Nona stood for none of my bullshit and handed me a 'mirror' that reflected my actions instead of my looks. It was not a pretty sight. Rules were laid down; school work first, a part-time job, chores and then friends. Above all I was to treat women with respect. I of course broke every one, and every time was kicked out. Slowly I realized that my 'friends' weren't and spent many a night sleeping in alleyways and doorways, one time barely escaping being raped.

Nona lived by three axioms and they had gotten me through difficult times before: the hands you are dealt will often be unfair; there is rarely such a thing as a truly hopeless situation; and finally, whining about it won't improve things but knowledge and hard work just might. I internalized this way of looking at the world and used it to work my way out of the tenements and into the top of my profession. Now I realized that I knew next to nothing about this race or how I got into it so I powered up my laptop and decided to correct that. By this time the guard had tired of watching his comatose charge stare down the wall and had turned on the TV. Anyway he had no instructions to the contrary so he didn't try to stop me.

Three hours later I silently thanked Nona for the hundred-thousandth time in my life and sat back knowing that I now had at least a chance getting through this with both testicles and some self-respect intact. However in doing so I had now broken the law and there was a risk of jail time for both myself and Nellie so I knew I had to tread very carefully going forward.

I shutdown my laptop and looked for Nellie's passport. Fortunately she hadn't taken it with her so I dropped it inside one of the inn's envelopes and pasted on all the stamps that we were saving for postcards. Still transfixed to the TV I addressed the farmer in my room who turned and gruffly demanded to know what could be so important as to disturb a game show at such a critical juncture.

I apologized but that I just wanted to mail a letter to my son since I might not make it back home soon. "If I push it under the door could you ask your friend outside if he could drop in at the front desk for mailing tomorrow?"

He barked an instruction to his cohort so I slid it under the door, took a shower and headed to bed.

Upon getting back to the room at two am Nellie decided that I didn't need to sleep and what I really wanted to do was to hear all about her evening. "Damn, some of those men are real hunks! We're going to go back tomorrow night while you are convalescing," she exclaimed.

"I'm glad you had a nice time but I'm not in the mood right now Nellie. You can tell me tomorrow morning," I said into my pillow.

She continued unabated just as enthusiastically as if I had said please tell me more! "Well, I rubbed against a few of them and I can tell you it's not just the arms that are huge here. But don't worry, brushing against a man is not cheating and compared to what you did a few bump-and-grinds were nothing."

I informed her that I wasn't worried, just disappointed in her. "Look Nellie, I need to talk to you and Laima alone. I'm not sure how much of it you know or have simply overlooked but you are wrong in thinking I cheated, and there is more to this whole race thing than I'm guessing Laima has told you. I can only say more in private," I said looking at the goon in the chair, "but please call this whole thing off and give me a chance to explain."

"Nice try, but you don't know what you are talking about. I'm not that stupid! You are not talking yourself out of this one Vito!" she replied indignantly, and with that stormed into the bath room and slammed the door. She was a little drunk so I realized it was pointless continuing and it took me a long time to fall back to sleep but surprisingly I did.

Laima entered the room at eight am with a grin and breakfast. Apparently the girls had decided that we all needed fortification for the upcoming day and had pre-ordered every Testonian delicacy available. My two long-suffering jailors were also invited to eat with us as a thank you for their service during the night.

Just as I was about to reach for a piece of dried meat my hand was wrenched back and directed to a plate of what could only optimistically be described as a fruit basket. I didn't have much of an appetite anyway but a bunch of tiny berries and twigs didn't do anything to improve it. Apparently, I was to dine on road-side pickins while the good-and-just people ate their fill.

After breakfast I asked to talk to my wife and Laima in private, and explained that meant without guards on the outside of the door. They all thought that this was a hilarious suggestion and I was told that after breakfast Nellie and Laima would be out for most of the morning as they had preparations to make. They would be dealing with some very important townspeople and would be far too busy for me. The guards would stay.

At eleven thirty the two Neanderthals guarding our room graciously opened the door to allow my wife to escort me downstairs.

"One sec, let me just take a bathroom break."

While in the bathroom I could hear my wife and her two new friends excitedly chatting away about the upcoming race like they had known each other since grade school. I can understand my wife's excitement but for two men this should not be a joyous occasion. Perhaps they were particularly pious or self-righteous? Those two things seem to come together in a single package a lot. Whatever the reason they all seemed to be having a ball at the expense of my two.

I pushed the cotton buds up each nostril, took the last of the Oxycontin, flushed the toilet and walked back out to three big gushing smiles.

We walked out of the inn door into throng of women of all ages. All out no doubt to get a glimpse of the loathsome foreign male about to get what he so richly deserved. The expectant chatter came to an abrupt end as soon as I stepped out into the sun and upon seeing all the disgusted stares my stomach did a back flip and dropped a foot and a half.

Nellie strode out in-front, proud and content that she would be finally evening the score. I could almost hear the drone of, "Dead man walking! Dead man walking!"

Our entourage reached the town square and I got my first look at my very sullen and demoralized co-contestant, whom I later found out was called Hadrianus. He didn't meet my eyes, or anyone's for that matter.

Just as in the DVD movie, a female judge appeared and in perfect English walked everyone through the litany of marital crimes that we had committed. Hadrianus had cheated twice, once with a single neighbor and once with an unknown woman while away on business. I had been far busier and the gasps and looks of disgust from the crowd told me they would be happy to make my punishment as difficult and painful as possible. The women who were to "dress" me were, as promised, startlingly beautiful. They began to pour bottled water down their t-shirts all the while making comically suggestive-eyes at me all the while just barely hiding their disdain. The judge finally stopped enumerating my many transgressions against women-hood and staring at both of us she ended the sentencing with a phrase in Testonian that sounded remarkably close to "May God have mercy on your souls!" I hoped that was just a coincidence.

"STRIP!" bellowed a slight woman in her mid-twenties who now seemed to be in charge of the proceedings. Her lack of stature was more than made up for in the sheer volume and tone of her voice. Obviously she was used to being in charge and I guessed was probably military. Upon seeing a wedding ring I found myself pitying her husband.

"No!" I tried to say in the most neutral and steady voice I could muster although it came out faltering and weak.

Even though I had mentally prepared myself for this, the sheer number of women, and a few men, all staring daggers at the two of us was extremely unnerving and I knew being naked would just magnify it all. Of course I would eventually lose but I wanted to hold on to my clothing and sense of security that came along with it for as long as possible.

Hadrianus started to undress as I stood there looking straight ahead awaiting her next volley. Staring hard into my eyes I felt her voice vibrate through me more than actually audibly hear it. "I ... SAID ... STRIP!" I subsequently ignored the second command and she nodded at my two jailors who promptly grabbed each arm and proceeded to drag me backwards to my wife and Laima.

Upon stopping, they held me upright with my back to the women and I heard footsteps and shuffling but nothing was said for a while. The expectant look in the faces of my audience should have given me forewarning of the searing pain that was then laid across the back of my legs, expelling my breath into the stifling air and leaving me hanging between the two living whipping posts. Even with the pain-killers I had downed I still felt the pain of the vicious blow.

Before being able to fully fill my lungs with air and cry out, a second blow crossed the location of the first turning up the heat by an order of magnitude. These were not the strokes of a dominatrix on some dumb porn site, this was the real thing. Somebody wanted to hurt me and not just for show. Before being able to stand up I was spun around to see my wife and Laima each holding a cane and a kind of smile that I had never seen before or want to see again.

"As you can see Vito, we made some changes to the way in which contestants are 'persuaded' to undress for the occasion" smirked Nellie. "Better than simply being held don't you think? ... Now, the lady said STRIP!!!"

I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold out but with a resolve I was surprised to find in myself I informed everyone within ear-shot "NO, I will NOT strip for your sick and perverted little games!!"

The crowd did not take my rebuttal well, clearly wanting me to pay for my insubordination and Nellie and Laima did not disappoint. Even though I knew what was coming the pain was excruciating and again knocked me off my feet. I lost count but we repeated this dance at least four or five more times and after regaining my stance from the final blow I couldn't take it anymore and finally acquiesced.

Once naked, I was commanded to turn around, stand on the box that had been placed there and assume the same position as Hadrianus. By now Hadrianus had his legs apart and hands behind his head facing the crowd of leering women and a thousand camera lenses reflecting back flashes of the sun. In the digital age the actual number of people looking upon our predicament would be several orders of magnitude higher than the actual audience in this square.

I climbed onto the box and faced the sea of heads that extended out in to the side streets. There were so many more than I expected there would be while standing on the ground, and of course that is what my wife and Laima had intended with the newly provided elevation. If I couldn't see all of them then they couldn't see me and wouldn't that have been a shame! I had to remind myself that I still stood a chance of getting Nellie to come to her senses and let me explain, although my time was certainly running out.