It's Not What You Think
Copyright© 2014 by Harry Carton
Chapter 8
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 8 - James is a Vet, crippled in the recent war. Cynthia was his superior officer then, and his wife later. She cheated. No question about it. But... It's not what you think. What is it then? Well, read the story!
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Cheating Revenge Spanking Rough Light Bond Oral Sex Anal Sex Amputee Violence Military
Epilogue
I was just reviewing some old journals and thought I'd finish this up. The last entry was some twenty-three years ago.
I didn't really trust Cynthia for about five or six years after the 'Carbunkle' affair, as we took to calling it. Sr. AssHole, went back to Venezuela and had his nuts cut off by his wife – figuratively. Carbunkle Oil Services never did get any oil concessions from Venezuela, and the Admiral got handed divorce papers by his wife. Then he got subpoenas from the U.S. Attorney in Washington, D.C. to a Grand Jury investigation.
I eventually got tired of checking on Cyn and stopped – she never did anything but what she said she was doing. Every year on the anniversary of her showing up in Germany at my bedside, I placed her in the position collar for several hours. I wanted to make sure that she 'remembered.' She's worn it every year for the last twenty–three. She doesn't mind. She even wore it when the kids were growing up, explaining that she did something very bad, and she had to remember not to do it ever again.
She and I had many good years of married life. I regularly beat her ass, slapped her pussy and tits, and generally fucked her lights out. Then again, she fucked my lights out too. We have three children, Mark, Julie, and Alexis. She insisted that we have DNA analysis done on all three to prove that they were mine. They are.
Bear passed away when he was about eleven. A good run for a good and loyal dog.
Oh. The posture collar and leash stayed on a hook between the bedroom door and the closet, in plain sight. When we moved to another house that was almost the first thing that was moved. Cyn touched it almost every time she passed by, to 'remind' herself. It's a little worn from being touched so much. Once a year, about two weeks before I had her wear it, she'd take it down and work some saddle soap and neetsfoot oil into it, to keep it in good shape. In case she has to wear it again. It's still on the hook, and she still touches it every day.
Edited by B4Lurker
