Part 1

Our troubles started at the wedding reception, but I didn't know it then.

My wife Hildy and I were in the wedding party and we both had a whole lot too much Champaign. So as mad as she was, she knew she was polluted and kept it inside before she said something she didn't really mean. That turned out to be a very bad thing, because she slept on it. And she woke up with a hell of a hangover; the kind that clouds your mind, keeps you from thinking clearly though you don't recognize it.

The wedding was Bob and Beverly's. They were the second pair of our college clique to get married, Hildy and I being the first. We had been married two years ago, the June we graduated, and now Bob and Beverly were joining us with a June wedding.

In college there were a couple dozen of us hanging together, boys and girls. Over the years it was just natural for the group to split up into couples. Some of the gang had wandered away, moved for a job, got interested in other things; but there were still eleven of us left that partied together. Sometimes we even took our vacations together.

The eleventh, the odd man out so to speak, was Jonas. Jonas was a big, loud-mouthed guy with a wicked and really offbeat sense of humor. Jonas didn't cause my trouble, but he nurtured it. He profited from it, but god damn it I saw to it that he eventually shared the pain.

Long term, I like to think his share of pain was far greater than ours. Some might say he got off easy, but what he lost went to his whole way of life.

At the wedding reception a bunch of the women were whooping it up in the ladies room. Which is something I've never understood, having a major gab session in the john. But my buddies sure were. We could hear them over the band.

Anyway, one of the gals mentioned that the bachelor party the night before had gotten out of hand. She'd heard a woman had been hired to be the entertainment, and had been very entertaining indeed. According to her, the groom had held out, refusing to trade juices with her, so to speak. But she claimed the rest at the party hadn't been so careful. Since I was one of the ushers I was at the party, would have been there in any case, these were my best friends. My wife's math is too good to miss the implication that I had sampled the woman's favors.

Now the story had some truth to it. There was a woman there and she tried her damndest to get the groom into the sack. Bob had to fight her off to keep from getting a blowjob. I understood there was a bonus in it for her if she did. She was a whole lot more successful with the rest of the party and she was "tipped" pretty heavily by the guys she serviced. Not every one else took her up on her offer. Me, I stayed in the background and managed not even to be solicited. There were several others too, but all the empty liquor bottles obscured our vision and I couldn't tell you who had and hadn't accepted, except for the groom and myself. I was positive about those two.

Hildy quietly asked around and those who had been at the bachelor party confirmed the woman's presence, and her activities. No one could tell her I had succumbed, but then none of them were willing to confirm that I had stayed celibate, either. As I said, I stayed in the background and I doubt if any of them really knew.

Except Jonas.

If she had been sober I like to believe she wouldn't have let her personal insecurity fuel jealousy and an almost blind rage.

Except for Jonas.

Jonas got very drunk at the reception, and for some reason his twisted sense of humor thought it would be fun to get the old married couple to fight at the wedding. He told her he was pretty sure I was one of those that went into the back bedroom with the woman. He planned to yell April Fool before the fight got out of hand. Except he was disappointed.

Hildy didn't blow up at the party. She kept it inside and brooded and stewed about it all night long. I like to think that if she had been sober she wouldn't have allowed her own personal insecurities to fuel a blind jealousy and towering rage. But it did; the worst kind, cold, silent and unthinking. Instead of taking the issue openly to me she was thinking up ways to get even the next morning while she nursed her Champaign hangover and brooded over my supposed infidelity as her head burst and her stomach heaved.

Sometime about mid-afternoon the next day I had finally almost returned to the living. Enough anyway to recognize Hildy's remoteness. She was always one of the most effervescent women I had ever met, and to see her quiet, sitting in a corner staring at me was unnatural, and kind of unnerving. I jumped to the immediate conclusion that she wasn't feeling well.

When I asked her what was wrong she just told me to wait, that we would talk about it later. I think she wanted to get me worried after my lapse from my marriage vows. She expected my conscience to really start bugging me.

As I had done nothing wrong, my conscience was very quiet. Since Hildy, accepting the rumor and Jonas' verification as proven truth she jumped to the conclusion I found nothing upsetting about my supposed infidelities. Which got her thinking and she made the conclusion my conscience wasn't bothering me because I was used to such activities. It never occurred to her that her informants were wrong.

The first time I knew something was seriously wrong was as we were about to go to bed. Hildy told me to choose which bed to sleep in, the one in the master bedroom or the one in the guest room. They were both made up, she informed me.

Not being aware of any problems, I jumped to the conclusion she wanted to have some kind of kinky party. As tired as I was this didn't really excite me, but I was willing to try. After all, she had always been a good sport when I asked her to scratch my itch so it was only fair I fulfill my husbandly duties. I ogled her frame, and asked which one she wanted us to use. She shocked me when she chose the Master bedroom, then put my pajamas in the guestroom and told me I could use the bathroom in the hall in the morning.

There I stood with my jaw hanging down as she marched into our bedroom to pick up a shopping bag with my things in it, stood in the door to the guest bedroom and tossed it onto the bed. Then my bride, the woman I was willing to die for, stormed into our bedroom, slammed the door and I heard the click as she locked the door.

No amount of pleading or cajoling brought more than a promise to talk in the morning, which was a Sunday. I had never seen her behave like this. After thinking it over I decided I had better find out what was going on before I broke the door down. I wasn't exactly sure she hadn't gone completely over the bend, but she seemed in no danger of harming herself, so I decided to wait for morning.

I had a very bad nights sleep and from the looks of Hildy the next morning, she had enjoyed the same. Still, I held my tongue and kept the peace, or what there was of it. After a very tense breakfast and cleaning up we sat down at the kitchen table to talk.

After a short silence, with Hildy unwilling to meet my eyes, she told me she knew about my philandering, I hurt my cause badly by snorting in disbelief and making some kind of little joke. She blew up in my face.

When I finally understood she was actually accusing me of fooling around I denied it of course. After all, I was innocent. We had kept no secrets from one another in marriage but now she was convinced I was lying to her, perhaps had been for the entire marriage. It took me some time, but finally I understood she would not take my word for it being daytime, unless she could see the sun and had a witness to verify it.

Things got hot and heavy about then. I was pissed that she refused to take me at my word. She was getting more and more upset that I thought her such a fool that stonewalling would get me out of the soup. Finally she told me the only way she could see to keep us together was to show me how she was feeling after my poking around on her.

After warning her not to do anything foolish, I took a lot of deep breaths and calmed myself down. Recognizing our yelling at one another wasn't accomplishing anything I went outside and busied myself with yard chores the rest of the day. When I came in for lunch I found sandwiches on the table, and the same thing at suppertime. I could hear Hildy busy in the house, but she never came into a room I was for the rest of the day.

Before I went back to the guestroom that night, I tried talking through our bedroom door again. The only way I knew she was in there was that I heard her quietly crying. She never said a word.

Finally giving up, I had my Sunday evening snack in front of the TV, then went to bed early as I was feeling unusually tired. Only natural with the little sleep I'd had the night before, then working very hard in the yard all day long. Particularly as upset as I was with the chasm opening between Hildy and myself. I soon fell into a dreamless sleep.

- - - - - -

When I woke up it was very strange, my body felt stiff and didn't want to respond to my signals. My arms and legs didn't seem to want to function. And it was so dark I couldn't see. As I began coming awake it felt as if my mouth was full of cotton and was very dry. When I felt my legs cramping up, I tried to move them again and couldn't and started to panic.

As I began hyperventilating and started thrashing around, I heard Hildy say, "Well, it took you long enough to wake up. Welcome to the world." Then she took the blindfold off me. I saw I was in the guest bedroom, but now I was fastened to the four corners of a table. I was nude, and the table was propped against the wall underneath the high window. She had sawed the legs off our six-foot long coffee table, then drilled holes through the tabletop. I was tied with my own neckties, at the ankles and just above the knee on both legs, and at the wrist and above the elbow for my arms. It was impossible for me to even throw my body from side to side, which might have helped break me free. The bed was stripped, except for a fitted bottom sheet, and a pile of pillows.

Hildy was standing in front of me, wearing the peignoir I bought her for her last Valentines Day. It wasn't quite see through, but a woman wearing it had no secrets. For instance, I knew at a glance that she wasn't wearing a bra or panties. Her hair was piled high on her head, just like I told her I found most attractive. She had carefully applied her make-up.

She looked stunning.

"Husband, I told you the only way I could get through this was to show you how I feel when I think of you with that dirty whore."

When I tried denying I had been with another woman, I found why my mouth felt like it was full of cotton. It was. Hildy had stuffed my mouth with one of my t-shirts. The way she was behaving, I wasn't sure it was even a clean one. It was at that point I began wondering if she had gone completely over the bend.

"I see you found out you can't talk your way out of this one. Well husband, I wondered who I could get to help me show you how it feels, and decided it would be best to ask one of your friends to help me. Jonas seems a little uneasy with this, and today he says he isn't sure you were fucking that whore, but when the truth and liquor were in him, he told me you were. Anyway, he agreed to help me."

Hildy stalked out of the room, and I heard the high heels of her slippers clip-clip down the hall. She returned in a moment with Jonas behind her. He had one of the biggest shit eating grins on his face I ever saw. It was then that I remembered he had always had a thing for Hildy.

"Hey, old buddy," he said, "I'm sorry about this, but for Hildy's sake I figure it would be best if a friend helped her out." Here he put an arm around her and gave her a squeeze, as the two of them stood side by side looking me over.

Hildy glowered as she snuggled up under his arm. My angry wife put an arm around Jonas waist, which caused the peignoir to open slightly, which made me see she had neglected to put on the gown that matched the peignoir. When she turned slightly and reached her mouth up to kiss him, the peignoir slipped further, and one delectable breast was bared to view.

But not for long...

As the kiss heated up, and I could plainly see their mouths working together as their tongues dueled, Jonas hand came up to cup that bared breast. I shut my eyes as he began kneading and stroking my wife's tit.

I was making little indiscernible noises as I tried screaming at them to stop. I doubt they could hear even a whimper from where they stood across the room. When I opened my eyes again the peignoir was on the floor and Hildy was unbuttoning her new lover's shirt. That was when I began to cry. Before now I didn't think Hildy had ever had another lover. I always considered any lovers before me unimportant anyway, but I was positive she had never had one after she met me. When our eyes had met that first time, a bond was made and neither of us had the urge to stray from the other after that.

How could she believe that I had done so now?

As she knelt at his feet to draw down his slacks and jockey shorts I began trying to break out of my bonds. For a moment I thought I had almost freed one leg, but the tie had only slipped a little, not enough to do any good, probably just made the knot tighter. As I continued to yank and pull I discovered the ties would slip because of my efforts but they had broken the skin and blood was soaking the bands around my ankles and wrists.

Through a red haze I watched my woman turn Jonas so that he was sidewise to me. She looked down at his meat and exclaimed, "Oh, Jonas, what a very, very large cock! It looks so good! Can I taste it?" It was the biggest cock I had ever seen.

Jonas stuttered slightly as he looked at me out of the corner of his eye, "O-o-of course. It would feel so good between your lips."

Then turning her head so that she could see my face from where she knelt, she pulled his very large cock down to her lips. While looking into my eyes, she slowly sucked his length into her mouth. Crying soundlessly I watched as she worked and worked to pull his entire impressive length into her mouth. Cocksucking was one thing she told me she did not enjoy, and after the first time I had never asked her to do it again. I watched helplessly, tears streaming down my face, screaming soundlessly into my own T-shirt, my blood starting to seep down my wrists, as she taught herself to deep throat another man's cock. All the while, my Hildy was looking deeply into my eyes. It was not a look of love.