Foreword: READ THIS FIRST
After reading Agena's "A Joke", then reading all of the endings, I wasn't ever really satisfied with any of them. Even Triple T's "Texas Ending" and "Texas Epilogue" just didn't sit right with me. I understand where he's coming from, and both his Ending and Epilogue are 5 star reads. However, I just felt my teeth itching to take Agena up on his invitation to write my own.
READ "A Joke" first, if you haven't already. I take over this one as the "sex session" between Roger and Flo is wrapping up.
FAIR WARNING: This is going to be kind of dark and violent. It explores the ramifications of not just cheating, but of the trust lost even if the cheating never really happened. It also explores the consequences of the Revenge itself. If that offends you, stop now and move on to something else. If you read it, then complain about the content, that makes your complaint NMP [Not My Problem]
Everyone else, please enjoy the ride. :)
I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. There I was, trapped and handcuffed in Roger Berman's basement. I'd been struggling to get out of the damned handcuffs that he'd locked me to the pipe with, and was having no luck, other than to rub my wrists raw and bleeding.
My wife's pleas to Roger to "fuck me harder" and "make me come" had enraged me beyond what I thought possible. Now, I've always had a bit of a temper, but nothing had ever filled me with this much pure, primal, unadulterated rage and fury!
"Unadulterated." I muttered to myself with a bitter laugh. "Can't believe I thought of that word in this situation!"
I growled low in my throat as the primal fury that comes from deep within our primitive animal "caveman" psyche that's inside all of us came forward. I'd just had to listen to another man fuck my wife, for God's sake! Now, there might be some guys who get off on that bullshit, but I'm not one of them.
I heard them moving around and whispering to each other. I heard them talking about Alice coming back soon, and that it wouldn't be good for her to catch them in bed together. Their cavalier attitude about the whole thing drove the point home for me all the harder.
All of a sudden, a sadness came over me as I realized that there was no going back from this. Flo, the love of my life, the woman I had wanted to grow old with, had just betrayed me in one of the worst ways possible. I'm not sure where the thoughts came from, but I just KNEW that they couldn't let me live after this. Flo had to know that our marriage was over, and I would never forgive them. They had to know that I would tell Alice everything. She would divorce Roger, and take him to the cleaners. I knew that I was a dead man.
I was openly sobbing when I heard their footsteps on the stairs coming down to the basement. How would they do it? A single gunshot to the head, execution style? Would they torture me first? Fuck, I would rather be waterboarded than have to listen to them fucking and ruining two marriages! I was broken from my self-destructive reverie by Roger's voice.
"Oh, shit! Look at his wrists! They're all bloody!" Roger said with a hint of fear in his voice.
"Honey, it was just a joke. Nothing happened. Oh God, I'm so sorry. Hurry up Roger, unlock the cuffs so we can get his wrists bandaged. Oh God, oh God. I never thought he'd take it this hard." Flo seemed genuinely concerned. I nearly laughed at that, if I hadn't been so bone tired. Hell, my SOUL was tired of it all. Was this another sick joke of theirs before the end? Were they going to make me think they would let me live, just to execute me for the crime of trusting my wife?
I blinked a few times, the tears streaming down my face. The look on Roger's face was one of concern and even a bit of fear, but I could detect something else. Smug satisfaction in the twitch of his lip as he couldn't hide the fact that he'd just fucked my wife. The rage built in me again, and from some previously unknown reserve of that primal, primeval, animal, caveman fury, I found my strength returning.
He uncuffed my right hand, and I let it drop as he undid the cuff from my left hand. My expression of utter defeat hadn't changed. Outwardly, I appeared the same as when they'd found me as I fell to my knees.
"We have to get his wrists cleaned up before they get infected!" Flo shouted to Roger. "Where is your first-aid..." Her words died off as I finally acted.
Like a rattlesnake, my hands shot out as I grabbed Roger around his throat. Nothing could break my iron grip, and my knee was a blur as I stood up with him, kneeing him in the balls over and over and over again. "HOW'S"-knee-to-balls-"THIS"-knee-to-balls-"FOR"-knee-to-balls-"A"-knee-to-balls-"FUCKIN'"-knee-to-balls-"JOKE"-knee-to-balls-"YOU"-knee-to-balls-"SORRY"-knee-to-balls-"SACK"-knee-to-balls-"OF"-knee-to-balls-"SHIT!!!"-knee-to-fuckin'-balls.
"You rotten shit eating son of a whore!" I shouted in his face, spit flying from my lips as my hands tightened on his throat and my knee repeatedly slammed into his crotch. "You just had to do it, didn't you, you sack of fucking shit?! You motherfucking piece garbage!" I kept up the steady assault on his balls with my other knee, now. My right leg had gotten tired.
Roger at first tried screaming through my grip on his throat, and made the mistake of grabbing my arms to try and break my grasp. That wasn't going to happen. Years of working with my hands and arms had made them tough as rawhide and strong as iron. By the time I landed my umpteenth knee into his groin, he was incoherent and barely conscious from the intense pain I knew he had to be feeling. I'd been in enough bar fights in my life to know how it feels to be kicked in the balls. It was time to show this motherfucking son of a bitch what it was like too!
"Stop it, Jim!" Flo shouted at me over and over as I battered her lover's balls with my knees. She finally found the nerve to grab my arm to get me to release him.
I glared at her with a look of pure venom. "Get your hand off me, you damned dirty SLUT!" I shouted at her, paraphrasing one of the greatest movie lines of all time. That was for you, Mr. Heston, God Rest Your Soul.
She removed her hand from my arm like it had been burned. Tears were streaming down her face as she sobbed apology after apology at me. "It was just a joke, baby. Nothing happened!" became her mantra.
I noted that Roger was unconscious now, so I dropped him like the sack of shit he was. He was still breathing, so I knew I hadn't killed him ... yet. I was admittedly still debating whether or not to do so.
"Give me your cellphone. I need to call 911, and you're crying too much to be coherent." I said it in a calmer tone of voice, and held out my hand to her. She wordlessly reached into her pocket and pulled out her iPhone, handing it to me as she continued to sob and cry.
I hit 911 and the operator came on immediately. "911, please state the nature of your emergency."
"Yes, my name is Jim Reynolds and I'm calling to report a crime." The tears from Flo stopped at that, and she looked at me with dawning horror on her face.
I continued. "I'm at my next door neighbor's house. His name is Roger Berman. He and my wife Florence Reynolds handcuffed me and forced me to listen to them fucking. My wrists are a bloody mess, so I will need an ambulance as well as the police to this address." I gave the lady the address. "I felt in fear of my life, and assaulted Roger when he released me. He will need an ambulance too."
"Jim, the police and EMTs have been dispatched to the address you gave me," she informed me.
"Thank you," I responded. I hung up and looked at Flo.
"Oh my God!" Flo shouted. Her face was now a mask of terror as she realized what she had done and allowed to happen.
I decided to throw her a lifeline. "Florence, if you tell the truth about what Roger did to me and what you allowed him to do to me, I will recommend that you not go to jail. If you try to lie, I will kill you right in front of the cops. I've never raised my hand to you in anger before, but right now, I'm a cunt hair away from killing both you and this asshole." I punctuated that with a kick to his probably already ruined balls, which woke him up momentarily. He screamed like a little girl and passed out again.
Her look of shock and terror was priceless. Did I still love her? No. She had killed my love for her with the constant disrespect and then this last humiliation. Was I prepared to kill her? Tempted as I was, no. But right then, I didn't want her to know that.
"Do you understand me?" I finally asked. She was still in shock that I would say such things to her.
Her eyes were haunted as she looked at me. "Yes," she nodded. "Oh, God, Jim. I'm so, so sorry! It really was just a joke, baby! I swear to God, it will never happen again!"
I nodded solemnly. "You're right, Florence." She hated it when I called her that, but the shock was so deep in her that she hadn't even called me on it. "It won't happen again. Ever."
I guess the finality of my words was enough to partially snap her out of her fugue. Her eyes snapped upward to mine. "What does that mean?"
There was a hard knock at the door as the cops arrived. I just shook my head at Flo and went up the stairs from the basement to the front door.
When I opened the door, the cops were already on edge. The EMTs and ambulance were waiting on the cops to clear them to enter.
"I'm Jim Reynolds. I'm the one who called you guys." I nodded to them, then showed them my wrists. "Roger Berman is unconscious in the basement. He is going to need more medical attention than I do."
"Ok, may we enter?" Sergeant Cooper, the older cop asked.
.... There is more of this story ...