A piece of a song from the world’s greatest Zombie-Polka Band, “The Widows Bane”.
It maybe doesn’t really apply to this story, but what the hell. If a married man can listen to their songs and not feel a connection, a truth being told, then he’s either lying to himself or ... lying to himself.
His name was Bill and he was slogging his way through another crap day of doing crap work for a crap company. When he looked into a mirror, he wondered where the tall, dark and while not handsome ... at least OK looking guy from High School and College had gone. His hair was receding, his waist was expanding and his energy level was flat lined. If it wasn’t for the love of his family, his wife Susan and his two sons, Frank and Mike, he did not know what he would do. At 6 feet tall (if he was not hunched over with the weight of the world on his shoulders) and just a tad over 205 pounds ... he was not in too bad shape ... just not the cross-country runner he was in school. He was exhausted from putting in yet another 70-hour work week. It was killing him, literally, but it was worth it when he saw the joy in his family’s eyes when he was able to afford the things they asked for. It was Friday and he was almost home, in his mind’s eye he was already enjoying being with his kids and wife for the upcoming weekend. What he really was excited about was an old friend from college had contacted him a few weeks back about the possibility of Bill coming to work with him as a partner, not as an employee. It would mean moving but the hours would not be any more than they already were, plus he would be making not just a salary but a partner’s share of the profits! Finally! Some light at the end of the tunnel!
Bill finally made it home after what should have been a 20-minute commute had turned into an hour and a half due to a traffic accident.
He sat in his car in his driveway and breathed a sigh of relief. He let his head fall back against the head rest, closed his eyes and let his memory slide back through the years...
Bill was an indifferent student in High School; OK, he slacked off. If studying his ass off got him an A and doing just the smallest amount he could do without getting yelled at got him a B; he went for the B. So, when it came time for college, he was in a bit of a pinch. He could get into the State University College at Raccoon City or ... maybe a trade school someplace. So, SUCR (pronounced SUCKER! Yes, the exclamation point is required) it was.
He fumbled around for the first two years; a little of this and a little of that. It was more an extension of his High School slacking than an education when two very different and separate things happened to him.
The first thing was, he was taking an intro course about electronics when one day the guy giving the lectures passed out copies of an article, written by his buddy who was an engineer at EMI Company, about the latest thing in the medical profession; something called a Computerized Axial Tomography (CAT) scan machine. It appeared that some genius had merged X-ray technology with the recent explosion in micro computer applications. The CAT scan employed multiple X-rays to build a cross-sectional image of what was being examined. The CAT scan showed a 3D image of the body on a CRT screen rather than on a photographic negative. Bill was blown away. After the lecture was over he approached the teacher and began bombarding him with questions. Finally, to escape, the teacher promised to hook Bill up with his buddy from EMI. Bill had found his place in the world.
The second thing to happen was he ran into Susan. Actually, he was late for class, blew open a door to the English Department building and flattened a co-ed. Yup, flattened her. She went flying backwards about four feet and landed on her back flat out unconscious. Bill just about followed her into sleepy land when he saw what he had done. For the first few moments, he thought he had actually killed her.
Susan recovered from their introduction but soon realized she liked being around Bill and having Bill do things for her. Susan was not a mean person, at least in her mind, and if you asked her she would regale you with all the “Save the Ants” and “Help the Starving Aardvarks” groups she belonged to. The disconnect between the two previously mentioned examples never entered her mind. One thing she did know, however was she had her life planned and it looked like a big piece of the puzzle had just shown up. She wanted a husband who would be a good provider for her and her future children. She also wanted a husband who was not too bad in the looks department. But what she NEEDED was a husband whom she could control. Susan had seen how her father ran their household and while there was nothing wrong with it or her childhood, she wanted to be the one in charge, not the follower!
Susan began a full court press and by the time they were ready to graduate, Bill had become what most men become, a yes dear, no dear, anything you say dear, lump of pussy whipped husk of his former self. Everything Bill did, said or thought was filtered through his Susan grid; would she like it, would it make her happy, yada yada yada.
Shortly after the wedding, Susan decided it was time to truly bind Bill to her and clip what wings he had left, so she got herself pregnant. No, they were his, he just did not know they were in the baby making game at the time. He thought they were just having awesome newlywed sex. Susan on the other hand was taking her basal temperature and plotting her most fertile times. Finally, she fell pregnant and told Bill that they must have messed up or a condom had failed or something, all the while biting her lower lip and giving him the big doe eyed look all husbands know. Frank arrived and two years later, Mike. Susan stayed at home and did the mom thing.
Over the years, as his family grew and his financial obligations along with it, both EMI and Bill discovered, at about the same time, that while Bill was never going to be a power to be reckoned with in the factory, he was, by god, an artist at maintaining a machine in the field. It was almost like the unit was talking to him, telling him what was wrong before he even started to work on it. So, Bill became the top field tech for EMI. Unfortunately for him, there were a LOT of CAT systems out there and the work load was brutal.
Bill finally sat back up and shook his head to clear the cobwebs of his memories from his mind. This was it! His chance to get out from under the grind and get some control over things. The way his friend talked about it, Bill would have complete control over all the field work and equipment support. His friend was going to run the business end and the parts warehouse. It was a match made in heaven!
With a new spring in his step, Bill exited his car and almost skipped up the sidewalk to the front door. He was home and life was good. He called out to everyone as he walked through the door, “Guys, I’m home and have great news!”
Susan came out from the kitchen with a worried look on her face and the start of one in her mind. Bill was not acting like he normally did. Normal was good. A change was not. Not if she was to maintain her control and the status quo.
Bill, was bursting with pride and excitement and called his loving family together in the living room to share his news with them. As he told his family about his friend’s offer he was talking a mile a minute and was not picking up on the lack of excitement coming back to him from his wife and kids. He was explaining how his friend’s company was organized and how he would fit in; that he was going to be a PARTNER! He explained that the new job meant they would have to move but that the new city was vibrant and growing and they could afford a much nicer house. He finally became aware that he was not getting anything like excitement back and he just sort of ran down.
“NO!” Susan finally exclaimed, “I am not going to move to another city. When we move, it will be after the boys are in college and then it will be over to Sherman Oaks on the North side. All the really important and interesting people live there and that is where I want to be.”
Mike said, “Yes, Dad. I like my school; all my friends are there. If we moved, I would have to start all over again making friends. That’s not fair!”
Frank hopped in, “Geeze Dad, I’m in Senior year, I just made the varsity football team. Becky said we were going steady after I gave her my letterman’s jacket and I want to take her to the Fall formal.”
Susan had walked into the kitchen while she let the boys wear Bill down. Coming back she said, “Bill it is settled. You tell your little friend that it was very nice of him to make the offer, but you cannot accept it. Next time something like this comes up, you come to me first before you make promises you cannot keep.” Susan let a bit of a smirk come to her lips. “Besides, do you really think you are good enough to be a partner? I mean really, you have been in the same position at EMI for the last fifteen years. If you were any good, wouldn’t they have promoted you by now?”
Bill ground his teeth together raging at what he wanted to say. Wanting to SCREAM that he had turned down promotions and new job offers previously; all because he didn’t want to disrupt his family’s life.”
Susan looked at Bill as his face turned red and he clenched his jaw to keep from saying anything that he would regret. Susan said, “Go and get washed up BILL, dinner is ready and it’s time to put this nonsense away.”
Susan turned, dismissing Bill and his news. She walked into the kitchen as she was saying, “You two boys, get to the table.”
She was happy and had a bounce in her step as she entered the kitchen. She had successfully thwarted Bill’s plans and had cemented her control over him even more than ever.
After a rather sullen meal where Bill stewed in his own juices and Frank and Mike wolfed down large portions of the meal and Susan drank more wine than she ate food, the boys said they were going out. Leaving their mess on the table, they rushed for the door. “Bye Mom,” they shouted as they left the house.
Frank and Mike walked out of the house snickering. “WOW! Did Mom ever tear into ATM! She sure put him in his place,” said Frank, “She has him so whipped, that if she said shit, he’d say how big?” They both laughed.
Mike looked at his brother.” I don’t want to move either, but don’t you think Mom shouldn’t have trashed ATM so bad ... what if he gets pissed at Mom and leaves?”
Frank laughed again. “That old man knows he would never find someone as hot as Mom again, especially one who’d put up with that lard ass he carts around.”
Mike laughed at that, “I guess you are right, he really is a worthless piece of crap. But he does have a BIG wallet!”
Frank grinned. “You can say that again, worthless at everything but bringing home the money! I think you and I can get Mom to lean on him to get us a car this summer ... if he works a few more hours!”
The two boys high fived each other before they walked away from their home and went their separate ways.
The problem with power is that it corrupts. And as the power grows more absolute, the power corrupts more absolutely. This is what was and had been happening to Susan for years. As her power over Bill increased, she began to believe that she was somehow better than him and that what she wanted was more important than anything else; Bill’s wants and needs, her wedding vows, etc. She had mentally moved from wanting to be the stronger but loving partner to feeling that Bill was put into the world to do her bidding when and as she demanded.
Susan had begun to spend more time with her single (read divorced) friends; listening to their tales of sexual thrills and fantasies. She never thought to ask if the line of bull they were peddling was true or more importantly, if maybe their activities and attitudes were what led to their multiple divorces.
The more time she spent listening to their “philosophy of life” and the “superiority of the female” the more she bought into it. The self-absorbed control freak that was lurking at the center of her soul was finally coming to the forefront.
Her mind was ablaze with the vision of her being in total control of Bill, financially, emotionally and sexually. To tell the truth, Susan already did control Bill’s sexual life; mostly by saying NO! But the thoughts from her friends and the “new world order” they put forward found a home in her narcissistic mind.
She shivered and rubbed the palms of her hands over her lush body; going from hugging herself to caressing her own breasts to rubbing her puss through her slacks. Yes ... things were going to change again!
Bill was still steaming over how his wife and kids had dismissed his news a few months ago. He was tempted to tell his friend that he would take the job. If only Susan would support him against the kids, he knew that things would work out OK in a few months. As he pulled into his driveway, he wondered who owned the car blocking his normal spot. He knew the cars their friends owned but this was new. As he walked in the door, he noticed his wife and a strange man sitting on his couch. “Bill, honey,” Susan said, “This is Tyrone, Tyrone Jerad Smith. He and I have something we need to talk to you about.”
Bill did not like the looks of this. Susan was sitting very close to the Smith guy. In fact, they were holding hands! Bill felt his blood pressure climbing and with it the acid in his stomach. Shit, there went the ulcer.
“Bill, Tyrone and I have been seeing each other for about a month now and we’re getting tired of having to sneak around behind your back,” she said.
Without a hint of guilt or remorse she continued, “Women need more sex than a single man can supply, it is the way nature meant things to be. The female finds manly males to keep her happy and the males are happy because the female lets them have all they can handle. It is just the way things are that the males by themselves can’t handle everything the female needs.”
Susan was looking at Bill to see how he was taking this news. She saw Bill’s jaw locking down and the veins in his neck standing out. She needed to calm Bill down a bit so she continued her explanation. “Bill, it’s not that I don’t love you, I do. And it’s not your fault that you are always so tired and exhausted and can’t take care of business. And it’s not your fault that nature gave you a tiny peepee. Things are the way they are.”
Bill was having a stroke; his blood pressure was through the roof. With his jaws clamped shut he managed to whisper, “Susan, what the fuck are you talking about. Get this piece of shit out of my house and by the way, why don’t you go with him!”
Susan put a hurt look on her face. She rubbed Tyrone’s thigh and squeezed his cock to make sure he stayed calm at all the shit Bill was spouting. “Bill, Tyrone is my guest in our house, he is not going anywhere. I am not happy with your tone of voice at all. Before you got all snotty, I was going to allow you to join Ty and me in our bedroom later so that you could see how happy Ty makes me when he fucks me with his big black cock. Now, I don’t know if I want you there at all.”
Bill was at the end of his rope. He shouted, “Join you? Watch you? Are you out of your fucking mind? I do not accept this and I do NOT want you fucking this piece of shit in my house or anywhere else.”
Susan got an evil smile on her face, “Bill, you are just going to have to accept that Ty and I are fucking each other and are going to keep on doing it.” Susan’s hand had caused Tyrone’s cock to enlarge such that it was tenting his pants up almost the entire length of his thigh. A dark patch was forming at the end where his precum was soaking through his pants.
Tyrone had a big shit eating grin on his face, “Yo, Dawg. I ain’t taken yo bitch away. She can stay here and you can feed her and shit. I just want to fuck that fine white pussy. I don’t need no crazy bitch hangin’ round all the time.”
Susan cuddled tighter into Tyrone’s arm. “See honey, Tyrone is not trying to take me away from you. You’re still my husband. I love you and will stay with you ‘til death do us part. It is simply a biological imperative. It is imperative that a female get all the sex she can handle and it is just impossible for a single male, a white one at that, to supply her needs.”
Bill had all he could take, he lunged up out of his chair and hurled himself at Tyrone. Then things went dark.
Bill realized he was laying on his back and that his face hurt like hell. He reached his hands up to his face and they came away bloody. He sat up with a groan and looked around. He was still in the living room and Susan was still sitting on the couch but the piece of shit Tyrone was no longer in view.
“I hope you are happy,” Susan said, “Poor Tyrone hurt his hand on your face and had to go home before he could give me a good-night fuck.”
Bill staggered into the downstairs lav and turned the taps on. He began to wash the blood from his face. Looking into the mirror, he could see that his nose was not broken but he was already developing one hell of a black eye. Susan was standing behind him berating his behavior and restating over and over her crap about nature and women and sex is not love and on and on. She suggested they talk about it or even see a marriage counselor; anything to make Bill understand the way things were. Several hours later Bill was trying to tune her out, his head was hurting and he could not see out of one eye for shit.
Finally, to shut up Susan’s yammering, Bill agreed to go to marriage counseling with her. Actually, he held out some hope that she could be made to see how her thoughts and actions hurt just not Bill, but the marriage and family as well. It wasn’t a large hope, but it was a tiny burning ember. Mostly, all he could see is that his life was a total bitch, plus he had married one.
Susan threw her arms around Bill’s neck and tried to kiss him on the lips. She was so happy that Bill was finally getting with the program. She knew he was still very mad, but she also knew he would eventually do whatever it was she wanted him to do. All, she had to do was give him some “sugar” and he would melt into the compliant lump of clay she married.
Bill turned his head at the last minute so all Susan kissed was his cheek. He was still seething inside but between the emotional assault as well as the physical one, he was in no shape to continue the fight. He was sure, however, that he was NOT going to give in to Susan’s sexual advances. That was how he had ended up where he was now.
Before he packed everything in for the day, he managed to get hold of his friend Moe, a paralegal at Skrewwum, Skrewwum and Howe for a reference to a divorce lawyer. Moe, was able to get him in to see one of the partners, Lawrence “Curley” Howe, the next day.
Bill walked in to meet the divorce lawyer at noon the next day. He explained what he knew and what he suspected to the frazzled looking man.
“OK,” Larry said, “I think I understand your position. Now, let me tell you the law.”
Larry, peered at Bill over the thick glasses he wore, “You’re fucked. Fucked with a capital F. Your wife will fight any divorce proceedings and you will be chewed up and spit out by the legal system.”
“In the end, your wife will have your house, your cars, half your assets and half your retirement. You will be paying her alimony and child support. You will be financially responsible for your boys’ college education. If you are lucky, you will be living in a box under the railroad bridge south of town praying to die of a heart attack in the very near future.”
Bill left the meeting even more depressed than when he entered.
The following Monday, Bill came home to a quiet house. He looked around downstairs and finding no one, went up the stairs to his bedroom to change. As he approached the door to his room, he heard the unmistakable sound of his wife having sex. Her squeals of delight were loud and easily recognizable. The deep throated grunts could only be coming from Tyrone. He had just put his hand on the knob ready to burst in on the adulterers when a voice came from behind, “What you doing here, white boy?”
Spinning around, Bill was confronted by a 6’4” wall of black muscle. “This is my house. What the fuck are you doing in it?” demanded Bill.
The stranger chuckled to himself, “So, you’re the cuckie! Tyrone said you were around someplace. My name’s Jamile,” he said as he held out is hand.
Bill looked at Jamile and his hand as if they were from a different planet. “Why the fuck would I want to shake your hand, dipshit,” Bill shouted, “I want you and dickhead to leave right now.”
Once again, things went dark for Bill.
He came to and the house was dark and quiet. His head hurt like hell and he thought he had several loose teeth. After cleaning himself up he went downstairs to get a beer. As he passed the den, he saw the TV was on and Susan was watching with the sound turned way down.
Susan looked up as she heard Bill moving about. “Bill,” she said patting the couch next to her, “come sit with me for a bit.”
Bill moved a bit more into the den but did not sit down where Susan indicated.
“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have had both Ty and his friend over to our house so close to when you get home. Ty came over about 9, just after you left for work, and worked me over until his friend Jamile got here around noon. I must have lost track of time. I’m sorry. I won’t do that again.” Susan said.
Bill looked hard at her, “So, you are saying you won’t fuck Tyrone or Jamile again?”
“No, silly, I am just saying I will plan better so that you do not step in on us again,” she smirked.
“Then tell me dear wife, why the fuck should I stay in this hell,” Bill snarled.
“Because, DEAR HUSBAND, if you don’t, you will be paying me everything you make and I will still be fucking Ty and his friends,” Susan replied with a wisp of a smile on her lips.
Around and around and around they went; almost all night long. Susan kept presenting her world view and offering to go to counseling to help Bill see the larger picture and Bill saying that he did not want her fucking anyone but him.
Finally, in order to get any sleep, Bill agreed to go see the counselor Susan wanted to use.
As Bill and Susan walked through the door into the counselor’s office, he spotted several awards from organizations such as the Women Against Misogyny and the Coalition of Undocumented New-age Transcendentalists (CUNTs) placed prominently on the wall. Behind the desk sat a matronly grey haired woman. She reminded him of a bulldog sitting up to bark at the world.
“Dr. Hooper will be ready to see you in a few minutes,” she said.
Bill did not have a good feeling about this. Everything was so staged, so to script. Unfortunately for him, he did not know either the script or what his part in it was.
After about twenty minutes, a door opened and a middle-aged female with greying hair, sagging boobs and a spreading ass came out. She did have the tight skin of a facelift survivor but it looked more fake than her smile. “Hello,” the harpy said, “I’m Doctor Elaine Hooper. Please come into my office.”
She gave no apology for making them wait and from Susan’s total lack of irritation, he suspected that the delay was part of a plan and that Susan was in on it.
After asking both Bill and Susan to state what they expected from the sessions, Dr. Hooper began to spout many of the same things Susan had been saying for the last several weeks.
“So you see, Bill, it is not that Susan wants to cheat on you, it is just that you have failed and are failing to supply her with one of the most critical the necessities of life: good sex.
“In your own words you agree, you work long hours and are never around when Susan needs sex. You should be happy that she has discovered a way to have her needs met and still include you in her life. That is the sign of a very loving relationship; she is willing to compromise her normal, natural biologic needs to meet your selfish wants.”
Bill had stopped both listening and participating. His head pounded and he felt like the world was a mass of futility and despair. He sat there until the session was over and zombie-like followed Susan out to the car.