Chapter 1

I'm Michael "Mic" Wallmann, a married man in my mid forties. My pretty wife Marianne is two years younger. Our daughter Julia is sixteen and our son Melvin is fourteen years old. When this story begins we still are a typical middle class Scandinavian suburban family with fair jobs and fair house. Without any real problems for the time being when the shit hit the fan.

It was a chilly Thursday in November. I had got the flu and decided to remain in bed for the day. But my wife Marianne, who began her work a half hour later than I, was okay and went to the bathroom for a shower. What surprised me was that she took her clothes with her for dressing in the bathroom. My surprise increased when I heard her lock the door. Now I was curious and went to the kitchen drawer for the safety tool for opening the door from the outside when children locked the door from inside and couldn't open it.

I waited a couple of minutes after hearing that she had turned off the shower before opening the door. The sight in the bathroom was marvelous. Marianne dressed in obviously new very sexy laced black underwear and stay up stockings I never seen before, why I asked her, "Why that new secret sexy outfit? Why hiding in here when dressing? Have you got a boyfriend?"

She froze for a split second in her movement and got a worried expression in her face before the reply, "Don't be silly, you ought to know that after the job today Lena and I are going to the mall for our monthly shopping and it may take a couple of hours."

I was feeling like a shit of the flu why I gave her harsh reply, "That secret sexy outfit for buying clothes? Doesn't it fit better on a woman who is trading something without clothes?"

Now she got furious and shouted, "Do you accuse me to be a whore?"

"I didn't accuse you for anything, only said that today you for some still unknown reason are dressed just as a whore."

She continued shouting, "How in the hell do you know how whores are dressed?"

"Ronny Skoog bragged about his experiences at the pub."

The door slammed hard when she left the house and I understood that my marriage was rather down than up. Ronny Skoog was her ex-boyfriend and as long as he did very well as Union boss, Marianne sometimes in angry temper had shouted that she regretted dumping him for me after he cheated her. But after Ronny had been fired and divorced for using his Union credit card at several expensive continental whorehouses during his trips to international Union meetings any comments about Ronny was any longer appreciated by her.

However, I had seen the strange expression on her face when she froze for a split second and knew for sure that my question had hit her hard. I decided to find out some further information and began my investigation at our home office where Marianne paid and kept all our bills in good order in ring binders.

It took me some time to find out several clues what said the something was wrong.

Nothing unexpected in our shared Visa account. While investigating the bills from her private account there were some strange details. Though Marianne and Lena usually went shopping for clothes once a month, always at a Thursday around the middle of a month, none of her purchases was made those Thursdays. They were always done a day or several days before that shopping Thursday.

Shit hit the fan when I found she had bought gas at the Q8 gas station about 25 kilometers from our town during one of her shopping days. Why in the hell could shopping in the mall bring her there far away from town? There was not even a small grocery shop or the café for truck drivers at the gas station. The only remaining possibility was that she had visited one of the small cabins the gas station rented out to tourists, salesmen and cheaters because of a much lower price than for a hotel room in town.

I was convinced about Marianne's cheating once a month during the pretended shopping but had no real evidence. A gas bill wasn't evidence enough for a divorce, at least not for the time being. In my opinion it would be better wait to after Christmas and New Year holidays and use the remaining time to find out with whom she did it.

However, I could even give her some fun during the "shopping" today. The alcohol store at the mall closed at 6 o'clock, and I rang Marianne's cell phone twenty minutes past five. She took the call after several rings and asked with a worried voice, "Something wrong?"

"Yes it is. You are at the mall aren't you?"

"Of course I'm, why do you ask me that?"

"Because I need a favor from the mall. What shop are you at now?"

She sounded a bit less worried when she replied" H&M, why do you ask?"

"Because I need a bottle of brandy for my flu. The alcohol store is very close to H&M, could you please go in there and buy a bottle for me before they are closing at six?" I hung up the phone.

That request caused a real problem for Marianne. If she was at a Q8 cabin having sex with her lover boy, she could maybe be able to fix the brandy by making a quick drive to the nearest alcohol shop and lose more than one hour of her prime time with the lover or she could skip the brandy and take the expected quarrel with me.

She took the quarrel. Obviously she preferred remaining together with her lover, wherever they were and whatever they were doing instead of rushing away for buying my brandy. Back home without my brandy she only said, "Sorry, but it took so much time at H&M that the alcohol store was closed when I got there."

"Bullshit, what did you buy at H&M that took all that time? May I see the receipt?"

Now she knew that she was trapped with a lie and replied shouting, "I paid my clothes with my own money. Why in the hell should I show you any receipt if I had any left."

"Because the receipt shows the time when you bought your damn clothes and you know very well that you need the receipt for getting faulty items replaced. You damn lying bitch simply didn't want to do me that small favor after my argument this morning."

She saw my last statement as a chance to get out of the problem that was why she said, "Stupid of you to expect any favors from me after accusing me to be a whore when I dressed at the morning."

I gave her a bright smile and asked, "Did the lover agree that you were sexy as hell in that new black laced outfit? If you really were whoring with some damn gigolo, please don't ever forget that in this marriage cheating is equal to divorce."

That comment resulted in the worst cursing in my life. I can't deny that I was impressed of what a good actress Marianne really was when she pretended to be offended. Even her ability of swearing made a deep impression on me.

A rather chilly atmosphere existed in our house that evening.

Though it was obvious that Marianne did something behind my back, it still remained for me to find out what she did, where she did it and with whom she did it?

The most important source of information could be her cell phone. We had identical phones and used to charge them in the kitchen. I went up during the night and I found her phone in the charger and switched phones.

The next morning Marianne hurried away to her job without any arguing and I remained in bed. As soon as she was away, I began to investigate her phone. Only one short text message, "A picture coming soon. Waiting for your comments."

It was from a sender whose number I didn't recognize. The phone book contained only her best friends.

My search online about the phone number didn't give me anything. Obviously it was a prepaid phone. However, then I got my lucky surprise when there came a ping from the phone.

It was a picture, obviously taken yesterday showing Marianne in her black sexy underwear and from the same sender as the previous message. The enclosed text said only four words, "Darling you are GREAT!"

Though there was no sender name enclosed, now I knew it for sure. It was the high artistic and technical quality of the picture that solved my question. I knew only one guy who was able to take pictures of such professional quality. That creep could only be Oliver Ericsson, the husband to Rebecca Ericsson, one of Marianne's very best childhood friends. He was well known for his ability with a camera and had once in the time when been heavy boozed at a pub bragged with an almost equal picture of a female co-worker. I had never liked him very much because his bragging about everything; he thought had done better than anybody else.

I was sure that he didn't like me either and it was easy to imagine how much he had been laughing behind my back every time he had fucked Marianne, much prettier than his own wife. One question remained, how could Marianne let her be seduced by that bragging creep?

There was only one and a half month left to Christmas and New Year and that was why I decided remain married over the holidays and keeps a low profile until then. No fighting with Oliver, what didn't mean that he would be left unpunished.

It was busy afternoon for me again. First loading the picture of Marianne to my laptop and I had to admire it. She really looked very much younger and very sexy. That creep Oliver had really done a good job with his camera. What increased my wrath was that the satisfied expression on Marianne's face indicated that the picture must been taken after their sex.

My next mission was a bit more difficult; it took several calls before everything was arranged for Oliver's punishment on Monday. As a native of my hometown I knew enough different kind of people for getting done what I wanted to do and I was convinced that it would be well worth the rather high price.

As expected, Marianne wasn't happy when she came home from her job with my cell phone and didn't got any happier when I screamed and accused her to taken my cell phone. I had deleted the picture from her phone, what probably confused both of them when Oliver asked her about the picture. But as I didn't say anything they hopefully thought something gone wrong when he sent it.

Part one of my revenge came on next Monday when Rebecca and Oliver had gone to their works and their children to their school. A tractor with a wagon filled with about three ton animal dung from a farm emptied the load on Ericsson's lawn in front of the house. As the weather was above zero, a terrible stank rather soon covered a large neighborhood. A large sign in the dung saying "MANURE FOR SALE" didn't do their neighbors any happier.

I can imagine how a furious Oliver had called the police and how his call obviously ended in a quarrel when the police didn't regard his pile of "free" dung as any serious crime that needed immediate action of the whole available force.

At Wednesday breakfast, while reading our local morning newspaper I saw a big picture of Oliver standing next to the "MANURE FOR SALE" sign before his dung. As expected, he was even complaining about the police because they had only asked him to fill a form about his problems and promised to take care of it as soon as possible in the future.

I began laughing loudly and Marianne asked, "What so funny?"

"An asshole in business as dung trader. Now one really can say 'right man in right place'."

Marianne took the paper and I continued my laughing. But of some reason she didn't shared my joy about what she could see. Instead she got red in her face and shouted at me, "You must be insane if you think that is funny."

I kept smiling and replied, "Don't you have any sense of humor left? Dung and a damn asshole is funny, a real funny combination indeed."

"Rebecca is one of my best friends. How can you nasty bastard laugh at her serious problems?"

Now I shouted back, "Is it my fault that the poor Rebecca married that silly worthless asshole Oliver Ericsson? Is it? She must envy you as hell because you are married to a real man."

I don't think Marianne did agree in that matter because she left the table without any reply and gave me a feeling that my wife didn't love me very much for the time being. My comments about Oliver didn't increase Marianne's love for me, if she still did it at all.

Then Marianne got the flu and all thoughts about sex were out of question for the next two weeks. I used the time to investigate her car for any clue about her affair with Oliver but without any result. Then I bought one of those new voice operated mini recorders and hid it in her car.

Neither of us made the first attempt for sex when she was cured. In fact, there hadn't been any sex for me with Marianne since the weekend before her infamous "November shopping" and now it was time for her "December shopping " together with Lena.

Though I had accused her for whoring during her November shopping and expected her to be clever enough to skip her December date with Oliver, he obviously meant so much for her that she took the risk. As expected, we had a quarrel at the morning when I told her that I would see my dentist at the morning and that was why I would leave home slightly later than usual. Marianne accused me of spying to see which underwear she would choose for her shopping day. She got furious when I agreed that it was appreciated to see her less sexy dressed for her strange shopping or whatever she intended to do at the evening.

At the afternoon I gave Marianne a call ten minutes before she left her job for the day and told her that I wouldn't be at home during that evening but said that her mother had promised go to our house for fixing some food to our kids.

Just as expected she shouted at me, "What the hell is so important for you to do this evening?"

"Very special mission my dear, very important indeed. My friends have heard rumors that your friend the dung trader Oliver Ericsson is going to fuck one of his whores at a Q8 cabin. We intend to watch both Oliver and the cabin. I'm sure that Rebecca will be glad to get rid of him when we'll nail him and get pictures of that cheating bastard in action."

As expected, Marianne wasn't happy about my mission. She shouted, "My friend Oliver? He is a friend to our family. You are totally mad, how can you even think about humiliating one of our friends in that insane way."

"Speak for yourself, that asshole has never been my friend. You have always hated cheaters before. Why the opposite opinion about that damn creep now?"

She sounded very angry when she replied, "I will always hate all cheaters, never doubt about that, but I know how much our friends Rebecca and Oliver love each other and that was why I believe them rather than rumors from your stupid so called friends."

What a lying bitch. I would not care about Oliver that evening. I was still alone in my vendetta but Marianne must been scared of my call and cancelled her date with Oliver for that evening and hopefully for the whole month of December. However, it was interesting to see what she would do now when Oliver had to be out of question for that evening.

The thought of Oliver under observation caused Marianne to lose all her interest for the important monthly shopping together with Lena because I tailed her car straight home from her job.

I parked my car on the street at some way from my house, went to Marianne's car on the driveway and opened it with the spare key attached to my own car key and took out the small recorder.

I went to a parking lot and listened to the recorder.

The first recording sounded to be Marianne giving a ride home for one of her fellow workers and it contained nothing of interest but next recording were much more interesting for me.

She had called Oliver, obviously as soon as she got in her car a few minutes after my call to her. Marianne sounded very worried, "Hi darling, we must cancel our date today because some of Mic's friends knows about you renting the Q8 cabin and they are curious about whom you are dating there. They will be watching both you and the cabin at this very moment ... Yes, even Mic is involved in the watching ... He rang me and told me that he would be home late ... Yes, Mic accused me of cheating on him during our last date but he will never think it is with you ... No, no way he will ever suspect you having an affair with me ... Probably some slut at your job will fit in much better ... No Oliver ... No Oliver. No, we can't do that ... No. No way now ... Refusing to fix Nic's damn brandy was a damn big mistake that got him to know I was lying about the shopping ... Now he is suspecting me and searching for evidence ... I can't afford to do anything suspicious again. I was a damn idiot when I agreed to see you today ... I'm going home straight now ... No way Oliver no chance we can't do that, not before January ... I'll see you at our New Year party ... No, no, no, don't even think about anything at my home, no, no, no ... Yes, Oliver I love you too."

After Oliver she had rang Lena, "Hi Lena ... I have to skip my date with Oliver today ... Some of Mic's friends have heard rumors about Oliver and will be watching him during the evening ... Yes, even he is involved, he rang me and told me he would be late ... No, we'll wait to January, maybe longer ... Talk to you later ... Bye."

What a shameless bitch. That was all I needed to know. Until now I had suspected Oliver and even punished him without having any real evidence, but now I knew for sure and had all evidence I would ever need. My next step would be find out a final solution.

Back home one hour later I asked Marianne, "You already at home, sounds strange that Lena and you did a such quick shopping at the Mall just before Christmas?"

She replied, "It would be better that you and I are going together at Saturday looking for Christmas gifts. You are back early from your moral mission?"

"That cheating asshole Oliver seems to have cancelled his date? Somebody must have warned him. Did you do that to save poor Rebecca from a scandal?"

She got ashen gray before shouting, "Don't ever think about me involved in your dirty tricks."

A new closer look at the bills in Marianne's ring binders showed that her "wrong day shopping" had happened since November last year with July as the only exception because of our summer vacation. Marianne had cheated me at least twelve times and now it was obvious to that their November date had been one-year anniversary for them. That explained Marianne's extra sexy dressing for him that day. As far as I found out she had not been wearing anything extra sexy for her cancelled December date. One cancelled date didn't count in her favor. Cheating twelve times was twelve times more than a sane husband could ever accept.

All my love for Marianne was gone with the wind.

The next morning I decided to give that "back up" Lena a lesson, why I sent a postcard with a picture of the best hotel in town to her husband at his job with the text, "Your wife is cheating you in this building" Though it was lie, such message must cause some problems in their marriage.

The Christmas went on without any arguments or any sex between Marianne and me; but I could see that she wasn't very happy because I had bought her much cheaper gifts than usual.

Then at last it was time for the New Year party hosted by Marianne and me. We did a big job of fixing our house and stored some furniture in the garage to get more space for the dance. I had even built a temporary bar for that event, well supplied with imported booze from Germany.

I kept the bar when our guests arrived and welcomed them with a fancy drink, different for ladies and men. Rebecka and Oliver came and got their drinks just as all others but with a Slight difference for Oliver whose drink contained something extra that had caused me Much problem to obtain.