Please Understand Me
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2016 by Mordant96

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5 - Wife cheats on loving spouse, or did she?

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   NonConsensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cheating   Revenge   White Couple  

I arrived home and came in the back door. I had called ahead so that I would not be met by a frightened Karen holding an automatic pistol pointed at my head. My homecoming was much better than that. Karen grabbed me and smothered my face in kisses. There were tiny tears leaking from her big blue eyes. She pulled back and looked me straight on and said “Oh, my darling, I am so happy you are home. I didn’t leave the house, and Victor didn’t come around. I saw the police black and white cruise past the house every 30 minutes like clockwork. That may be why he didn’t show his slimy face. He was scared! Jake, I’m so glad I am not facing him alone any more. I have you and the entire Norfolk police department on my side. I’m not scared to death anymore. Your hourly phone calls really helped too. I have every confidence you will find out why Victor has this hold on me and you will break it and I don’t have to do those things anymore, those horrible things that Victor made me do.”

“Karen, your unqualified confidence is me is good for my ego, but it is not realistic. You need professional help and I have the best person in the field who has agreed to help us. Let’s start acting like normal people – BV. How would you like to go out for dinner tonight?”

She actually did a little dance and, with enthusiasm, said “Oh Jake, you read my mind! Can we go to Outback?”

“Well, Sweetie. I was thinking some place a little more elegant, but if you want Outback, I’m good with that. Why the Outback?”

She answered me in her little girl voice, “I weighed myself and I’ve lost six pounds from my ideal weight so, I want a Bloomin’ Onion!” I chuckled to myself at that statement. Karen would never have eaten that delicious, calorie rich, fried, cholesterol packed hunk of indulgence in her previous life.

“OK doll, you got it, go get dressed and we leave in one hour.”

We went to the Outback and Karen had her Bloomin’ Onion, half of my steak, and a big gooey dessert. On the way home she thanked me and took a little nap in the car before we pulled into the garage and lowered the door. When we went to bed my rod was so hard a cat couldn’t scratch it. I was under the covers and facing the wall when Karen slipped under the covers and spooned me. She whispered in my ear, “Darling, I really want you to make love to me, but I’m afraid. I don’t want to trigger my other self and I’m truly worried how she would behave.”

What she said rocked me back. This was the first time she referred to herself in the third person. I must tell Sean about that. The bad thing is I agreed with her. I would not want my sweet, loving wife to start demanding that I tie her and whip her so she could get sexual gratification. Mercifully, just that thought caused my erection to wilt like four day-old celery stalk and I was able to slip into a troubled sleep.

Karen and I were at Sean’s office ten minutes before eight. His door was open and we walked in. Good morning greetings and introductions were made and out of the way. I was trying to figure out a way to tell Sean about the third person thing where in normal conversation Karen referred to a “she”. Fortunately, Karen solved my problem by asking for the restroom. When she left, I told Sean about our bedroom conversation. He said “I’m not at all surprised. In fact, I would be surprised if she didn’t do that. It is very likely, as the dominant, albeit barely, personality your Karen is most likely very much aware of the “Bad Karen,” but not the other way around. The bad Karen, properly referred to as “Criterion B”, may be completely unaware of the “Good Karen, or “Criterion A”.

Leave Karen with me Jake. Come back at five o’clock. I need to tell you now that I will put a post-hypnotic condition in her memory so she will not remember anything about today’s session. When you pick her up, do not ask her any questions, it would just confuse her. I’m doing that as a good psychological practice so she does not mull over today’s work between sessions and become upset. I will restore her memory when you drop her off tomorrow morning, same time. See you at five and don’t worry. I view this as an unremarkable textbook case of multiple personality disorder co-morbid with an extreme example of inferiority complex.

I stayed until Karen returned from the bathroom. I gave her a tight hug and real kiss. I told her she was in good hands and that I would be back at five.

I had nine hours to set the stage for Victor boy to have the very worst day of his life.

Just west of highway 168, and straddling the VA–North Carolina border, was the former Northwest Naval Security Group Activity. A victim of our current CinC’s program to reduce our military to a level not seen since prior to WWII, the SecGru station was closed and padlocked over five years ago. Adjacent to the actual military activity was a campground and a number of small cabins that used to be rented by members of the military and their dependents. The distance from my house to the station is a bit over 23 miles as the crow flies. By road it is about 30 miles or around 45 minutes driving time.

I had put all the things I needed on my list in the trunk with a large set of bolt cutters. One item that was not on the list that I had already put in the car last night because I didn’t want to forget it. That was the eight foot bull whip I bought several years ago on our vacation trip to Oaxaca, Mexico. When I bought it, Karen playfully chided me when she asked “Hey vaquero, are you going to use that wicked looking whip to herd your cattle?” I think she would approve of what I am going to use it for now. I also will stop at a random hardware store for four L brackets and screws to secure a picnic bench to the wooden floor of the cabin. I wouldn’t want Victor to somehow scoot the table over to the small table in the corner. No that would never do, for on that table will be a six pack of bottled water, and sufficient dressings and anti-biotic cream to keep Victor from bleeding to death.

 
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