Chapter 1: Bad Behavior

It began on a hot day in August. Buddy had sold his business back in February and Sheila had had enough. For six months she had put up with his lazy-assed, fucked-up, king-of-the-hill attitude. It wasn’t just that she wasn’t used his always being underfoot. It’s true that there had never been more than a few waking hours a week when he wasn’t at work; all the years they had kids at home, it was rare if he made it home for dinner more than a couple times a week. No, it wasn’t just that. She felt like she was shackled to a stranger. This was no longer the dynamic young man who had charmed her with his ability to take on any challenge with so much positive energy.

The only kind of energy he still exhibited was his sex drive. And that had become a constant strain to Sheila. He was always pawing at her at times and in ways she found increasingly exasperating. And when they had sex - they fucked pretty much every day; he would wear her down and she would eventually let him fuck her, if only to get it over with - it was sex bereft of any pleasure at all for her.

Buddy wasn’t happy either. Cashing in - the goal of a lifetime - had made him well off financially, but not so much psychologically. Not being of an introspective or philosophical bent, it took him a long time to realize how much of his identity was wrapped up in the business he had built from scratch and invested himself in daily for over twenty years. And now that he just wanted to enjoy the benefits of his success, he was failing for the first time in his life. He couldn’t come to grips with the absence of daily challenges and the daily wins.

Sheila finally told her mother what was going on. Betty had had a lot more ups and downs in her life than her daughter had, so Sheila was sure she could offer some suggestions. She had always confided in her mother to a certain degree, although not the very intimate details of her life with Buddy. And that life had always been pretty smooth, so this was the first time it sounded like a complaint.

Betty didn’t say, but her first thought was, why not just castrate the bastard. She chuckled to herself. What she did say was, “I have a friend who works for a therapist who does a lot of marriage counseling. From what I hear, he’s a little eccentric, but he does get results. And fast too.” She rolled her eyes as she said, “You know how some therapy never comes to an end ... Well, he’s not like that. He has a reputation for immediate results.”

With Sheila’s consent, Betty phoned Marci Yin. To call Marci a friend was a bit of an exaggeration, although Betty’s feelings for Marci were deep and complex. Working out of Dr. Samenschlag’s office where she was his invaluable assistant, Marci operated a lesbian dominatrix practice with the doctor’s full knowledge and support. Always happy to take a call from a regular customer, Marci listened to Betty’s description of the Buddy problem and suggested that she meet with the couple herself. There were a lot of options, she told Betty, some of which would not require the doctor’s involvement.

So, two days later, on that sweltering afternoon in August, Marci met Betty at the big house Buddy and Sheila had bought some miles from the city. At he end of a long, curved driveway, the grounds were beautifully landscaped and secluded by large stands of maples and poplars. Betty was waiting at the bottom of the steps to the wide veranda and she blushed when Marci gave her a hand to kiss and trembled a little as her lips touched the back of the small, strong hand and Marci’s scent pierced her brain.

“Thank you, Miss Marci,” Betty simpered, “I appreciate you taking the time to see us.”

Marci frowned at the taller woman. “Why are you wearing slacks? You know the rules.”

Betty was taken aback, humiliated by the realization that she had blown an opportunity to show her submission to Marci’s demands. “I ... I thought...” she stammered, feeling her pussy flutter and begin to leak. Marci grabbed a handful of Betty’s blouse- and bra-covered breast and twisted the nipple sharply. Betty gasped and moaned, “I’m sorry Miss! It won’t happen again!”

Marci strode up the steps with Betty behind her, ogling her mistress’s shapely pencil-skirted ass. Betty scurried ahead to open the front door for her. “Sheila ... We’re here!” she called.

Buddy entered the foyer just as Betty was introducing Sheila to Marci. He was looking presentable for a change, having actually showered and shaved that morning and changed into a clean polo shirt and a decent pair of shorts to meet the guests. Wow, he thought, that’s a fine piece of Asian ass! He also checked out his mother-in-law, who was looking particularly fuckable for a septuagenarian, but then he had always had a thing for her. Turning his attention back to the hot Asian chick - Marci was 38 but could still pass as a teenager - Buddy interrupted Sheila as she was welcoming her. Assuming the role of host and master of the house, he put his hand out to Marci, “Hi, I’m Buddy.”

Marci completely ignored him until she had replied to Sheila, touching her gently on the shoulder, and giving her a warm, confident and confiding smile. Then her visage transformed as she glanced contemptuously at Buddy and, ignoring his proffered hand, turned back to Sheila and asked, “Is there a place where we can sit and talk?”

“Of course,” Sheila replied, and led them, Buddy in tow, into the living room that, although somewhat formally decorated, afforded several areas designed for intimate conversation. Selecting the nearest group, a two-seated divan with a chair and a small coffee table, Sheila gestured to the chair for Marci and sat with her mom on the divan. Buddy hovered in the doorway, uncertain whether he should take a seat farther away or just stand nearby. He was taken aback by the lack of civility Marci had displayed, but curiously aroused by her powerful demeanor. He wasn’t going to let a minor rebuff keep him from participating in what Sheila had told him was a family consultation.

“So, Betty tells me you’re not happy with your husband,” Marci said, not wanting to beat around the bush. “What, specifically, do you want corrected?” Sheila almost gasped, surprised at Marci’s directness, but at the same time feeling suddenly validated by the younger woman’s clearly partisan support.

“Hey, wait a minute!” Buddy interrupted, taking a step toward the women. “I thought...” But he was immediately interrupted in turn by Marci.

“SHUT UP!” She didn’t shout, but her voice carried the force and intensity of a military command. Buddy was stunned. His first reaction was to snap his mouth shut and freeze in his tracks before incipient rage began to well up. His face started turning red and his eyes bulged, while Marci tuned back to Sheila and said, “I’m sorry. You were about to say something.”