Breaking Jen (Redux)

Author's Note:

Breaking Jen was a story that I posted a year or two ago under another name. I always wanted to go back to it and perhaps fix a few details, however that minor fix turned into a massive re-write. I didn't want to replace that first story because it was liked by so many people...so...I decided to submit this 'redux' version under my new author name. Hopefully that way everyone will be happy.

Why the re-write? Well....this newer version doesn't really stray all that much from the actual events. I think that when I wrote the original story I embellished quite a few details. I guess I just didn't think that the real experience was interesting enough....I realise now how insane that thinking was.

When I recall what actually happened I know that it was far from ordinary.

Almost too much of it is autobiographical. The things that happened to me and the things that I did are real. I was worried that everyone who reads it would know too much about me.

Some of you will have read other stories of mine like 'At The mercy Of a Stranger' or 'A Night In Valhalla'. Many of you will recognise one or two elements or ideas from those stories.

My answer to that is that I used my experiences from this night and others and blended them into those submissions.

The events in 'At The Mercy Of A Stranger' happened.

The events in this story, 'Breaking Jen Redux.' also happened.

Writing down what Jen's (not her real name but it's very close) infidelities did to me was also all too real.

I don't mind telling you that it was not pleasant to go back to that place. Those are not memories that I want to rekindle at all. They represent the worst time in my life and the most pain I have ever felt.

Anyway....now you know, and with that knowledge, I hope you enjoy this 'redux' version of 'Breaking Jen'.

Peace and Love....

William.

(Aka Dimachaerus)

*****

I want people to know that I'm not a spiteful person by nature and I don't believe in holding onto past hurt.

I remember hearing a certain quote once that seemed to resonate with me. I honestly don't recall who said it, or even where I heard it anymore, but despite all that, I can still recount it word for word.

'Holding a grudge is like swallowing poison and expecting the other person to die'.

That sentiment seemed to connect with me on the deepest of levels. I tried every day to live by its message. But to tell the truth, I was an utter failure in achieving that aim.

As hard as I tried, I wasn't capable of in living a grudge-free life. There was always one exception, and one person, that I just couldn't shake.

Jen.

Jen was supposed to be the girl I was going to marry one day.

She was always the one......the missing part of me.

I was incomplete without her.

Have you ever been in love with someone so deeply that you would literally step in front of a bus for them? I'm not speaking metaphorically here. I mean you would actually trade your life for theirs if it ever came down to it.

I would have given my life to save hers in a heart-beat. It was that kind of love. Perhaps I should have been more careful about whom I gave my heart to, but I think that love tends to trump good judgement. That's been the story of my life.

Deep down we all know how a love like that always ends. The truly ironic part of it all is that knowing this still makes no difference at all.

You never see the end coming until it's much too late.

We do it to ourselves over and over again, each time thinking 'this time will be different'. But it never is.

The world I thought I knew, ended for me in a single day.

Sometimes there are clues and warnings, but sometimes you just get blind-sided by life.

Perhaps if I paint you a nice little metaphorical picture of what happened you will better understand. To lay it all down in plain language would almost seem crass to me. (In much the same way that describing a fatal auto crash would.)

Imagine you are standing beside a deserted highway. It's surrounded by nothing but barren and lifeless country-side. Quite suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you spot a beautiful wild flower growing out of the dirt on the other side of that lonely road.

It distracts you, and you think to yourself 'how could something so beautiful be living in this desolate place?'

You look right and left and see nothing but empty highway before crossing the road to get a closer look.

You never saw the huge truck that appeared out of nowhere until it hit you. You were so focussed on that flower that you couldn't see the danger until it was far too late.

To say it broke my heart when the truth about Jen finally came out doesn't convey the feeling. Words can't express what I felt. That's the dilemma I have in writing this. I'm trying to use words to describe to you something that words cannot express.

No. Saying it simply broke my heart doesn't come close. It would be more accurate to say that it destroyed me.

When I look back on that twenty-four hour period now, I realise what was happening to me. It took the separation of time for me to fully understand it.

Within the space of a day my happy, perfect world had collapsed around me. It was like living through a horror movie that I couldn't switch off.

I can only think back on that time just so far before my mind disconnects. I can recall the events just fine but as soon as I start to remember how it all felt, then everything seems to shut down. I know it's my mind's way of preventing me from feeling that pain ever again.

I was a strong confident and happy person, but before that day was out, I would be in the middle of a very real and very painful nervous breakdown.

A lot of you may think that isn't possible, but many of you reading this will know that all it takes is the right combination of events to change a life instantly and forever.

By now maybe you're realising that this is no simple story or work of fiction. While much of what you're about to read is fabrication there is a very high percentage that is drawn from pure fact. Do not doubt that the pain was real.

I will blur the lines of reality in some areas, but I think we all do that in our own way. Our own emotions often colour our memories making the truth subjective to our own experience.

I have no delusions about myself. I know what I am. I know that I am damaged. I know that my past has made me almost unable to trust or to connect with someone on a truly personal level. That inability caused me to seek other ways to deal with people.

It actually saddens me that these new ways turned out to be infinitely more effective.

The kindest of acts are not appreciated fully without first showing cruelty. I wish that were not true, but knowing that was a kind of revelation. It made me into the kind of man I never wanted to be, but also able to function as I do now.

It is okay if you wish to stop reading now. Many of you were probably expecting a light erotic adventure and not a dose of reality. The events I describe hereafter will be gratifying on the most sensual and erotic levels, but, it may require a journey into darkness that may not sit well with you. It may unsettle. It may stay with you longer than you would like.

So knowing that, I offer you your first escape. I will offer it again one more time at another key juncture. I assume if you continue now, and at that moment, then you will be prepared for what comes after.

So....welcome to the journey, by sharing it with me you honour me with your trust. In return I will shelter you from the worst of it, I will protect you like you were my own.

I remember feeling physically sick when I first discovered the truth about Jen.

The realisation that I wasn't the only man in her life, there were many. Knowing, that what I had cherished the most in life, had been.........a lie.

Knowing then that I was truly worthless.

Jen had worked for a law firm but she was not a lawyer. She planned events. She organised the conferences and travelled to all the cities where they were held. She was good at it. A true multi-tasker in every sense of the word.

She was skilled at manipulating people and situations to her own benefit. I knew that from the outset, but in my stupidity I had assumed that I was somehow special, that her manipulations did not extend to me. I believed in my heart that she loved me.

A natural flirt who used the attention she got to her own ends.

Maybe it was my own stupid male pride that was my undoing. Like having a tiger on a leash, you start to think it's tame until the day it bites you.

I had been made a fool of for years.

While attending conferences in other cities she had regularly taken her flirtations to the next level. I don't even know how many times that must have happened or how many other guys she had fucked over the two years we were together.

I do know that some of them were men she would see regularly when she was in certain cities, and some of them even knew about me.

She had a great thing going. A stunning and gifted liar. I really do have to give her that.

I totally was oblivious to it all, and when the truth finally came, it did not arrive in small easily digestible portions, but all at once.

That very morning I had actually been wrestling with a dilemma that now seems laughable. I had been considering the best way to propose to Jen. It all just seems so tragically pathetic.

I was definitely the marrying kind before all this, but not now.

I will never marry. It is a resolution and a gift to myself that I will always uphold.

Maybe some of you will understand now. You don't bounce back from something like that. It changes you. It changed me.....forever.

It was as if that experience broke me and then re-made me on an almost daily basis.

You go through stages that repeat and recycle over and over again. Each time is just a little less painful than the last. Sometimes you go through those stages many times in one day.

You get to experience every negative emotion. Humiliation turns to anger. Shame to depression. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

The down-ward spiral.

To say that I did not seriously contemplate suicide would be a lie.

I thought about her for years with that mixture of heartbreak, anger and sadness.

In time, a profoundly different man emerged on the other side of the hurt. A calculating man devoid of all empathy.

A predator who pursued and used women in ways that were radically different to anything he had ever done before.

There was no alluring mystery to me in the females that I sought out. I saw through the outer image that each projected and instead found the woman underneath the facade.

The rose coloured glasses of infatuation had gone.

They were replaced instead by the eyes of a colder man who fed on dominance and control.

A dispassionate observer who could analyse the women around him and then act accordingly without feeling or hesitation.

I fed off of them (figuratively speaking of course), and in turn I gave them back the kind of experience no other man had dared to. I made their darkest fantasies real.

Provided you are not deceptive and make your intentions clear from the outset, the majority of women you meet will practically melt at the prospect of being marginalised and used for the pleasure a young, athletic male.

The very notion of this seems to fulfil something base and primal inside. This does not however imply disrespect. Permission and compliance is a given, but it takes a certain kind of man to push her past her perceived boundaries into places unimagined.

That is where the magic happens.

For the ladies who are reading this let me paint you a picture of where it all began. My first fumblings if you will. (and for the men, just pay attention.)

Imagine you're sitting at a bar, any bar. That dark and handsome stranger sitting next to you is talking to you attentively and buying you drinks. He's amusing and funny. You're entertaining the idea of taking it further, but deep down you know you probably won't.

He finally leans in close and whispers....."I really do have to confess. From the moment I sat down I've been picturing what you'd look like bent over the hood of my car."

Responses to a statement like this will vary, but may go something like...."Oh really, now why would I want to do that?"...to which I might reply "because it's the perfect height." Eye contact and the hint of a faint smile are key at this point.

Pause.

Think. (yes, im talking directly to you.)

Now think again.

So ladies....try and tell me you didn't just imagine yourself bent forward over the hood of a sports car while a dark and handsome stranger fucked you.

And do you honestly think that a guy like that would stop there? Hell before the night is out you can guarantee you will have broken several laws (the dirty ones), and enjoyed every second.

Of course I could be wrong about you and that's fine. Its a percentages game, but I can safely predict that over seventy percent of you just had a hot flash and naughty little fantasy to go with it. (and that's just the ladies).

And yes what I just described is the vanilla version. The complete version doesn't translate to the written word at all well. I'm sure you can understand why.

There is undoubtedly something alluring about total honesty, especially when it's regarding sex.

You'd be surprised at how often the most base and depraved requests will result in her saying yes. I know that women are just as sick of all the games as we men are.

I got so very good at drawing out all of their dark tendencies.

Most of them were just screaming out to be used and I simply obliged.

There are many of you who will accuse me of being a woman hater after what you have just read. I wish it were that simple. If that were true then I wouldn't be very good at what I do now would I?

I don't expect you to fully understand what I'm about to tell you because I don't understand it myself, but the more detached I became, the more I was fascinated by what I saw. The discovery that women have a power they aren't even aware of.

Tragically fickle creatures too hung up on their own self image to know what it is they really have.

Conflicting emotions and petty insecurities robbing them of their ability to appreciate their own gifts.

Knowing that truth led me to an important question. What would you find underneath it all when you strip away all those barriers? How would that same woman behave when set free from her insecurities.

She could do anything.

She could be anything.

Only a fearless and uncompromising man could bring about that end. A man with nothing left to lose. Someone who could stay the distance and trust the process.

Next came the most important question of all.......'What was the most efficient way to achieve this end?'

That was my most important discovery. Knowing that changed everything.

In my inability to feel, I had found a way to live vicariously through my conquests. I found a way to fill the void.

A seducer of the vulnerable.

A devourer of energy.

I found that, in time, I had developed a gift.

I knew almost instinctively what a certain kind of woman wanted but was ashamed to admit. The desires that she could not understand let alone ask for.

All those tired (but highly successful) pick-up lines were quickly replaced by words that were far more covert, and infinitely more suggestive.

I understood then, that each encounter was a journey that had to start slowly. With each hour there would be an escalation and if by the third hour she was still in my company then she was mine for the taking.

Every inch of her body and mind exploited before the night was out. Total, pleasure. Total freedom.

A night where nothing was forbidden.

There really is very little mystery to obtaining this gift. For me it was as simple as discovering how not to feel. To observe without letting my own emotions cloud any judgement. Once you stop caring about yourself it is easy to become fearless.

I know there is irony that, in having a power that only a broken man could attain.

The audacity that having nothing left to lose will give you.

Empowered with that knowledge I embarked upon what could only be called a 'campaign' of conquest and domination.

Debasement and depravity on an impressive scale. I took what appeared to be the sweetest looking girls and then proceeded to thoroughly 'dirty them up'.

I soon discovered that the public persona that each of them presented to the world usually bore no resemblance to the desperate and repressed person that hid just under the surface.

The filthiest acts always resulted in the most intense climaxes regardless of who they were and what church (if any) they happened to worship at.

Humans are complex creatures. For every noble thought there is also a corresponding base desire. We go through life trying to show all those noble and good tendencies to the world whilst trying to hide away all those dirty and base ones. But those dirty and base thoughts never really go away.

A desire suppressed is a desire magnified.

The darker side of female desire became the tools of my trade and let me tell you girls and boys, trade was brisk.

I did all the things that other men were afraid to do and I did them immediately and without reservation.

Total honesty was the key. I would make it clear during the very first conversation that I was different. I didn't play nice and I didn't play fair. Nothing was off limits to me. I would use all of her dirty little secrets against her and make her do things that would make her own mother ashamed of her.

Do you know how many girls walked away upon hearing that? Not one. Oh I'm not saying that I converted them all straight away, but all of them would at least entertain the idea.

Often it was more about planting the seed of a thought. Over the days that followed that seed would begin to germinate.

Next would come a text message or a call from her a few days later.

It was usually at that stage that she would be ripe for the picking. As a percentile, the conversion rate was unusually high. (good enough to take to the stock market).

Again it occurs to me that after reading this you might simply label me as sexist or a misogynist, but consider this. Ladies does it not at least intrigue you that there could possibly be a man out there that knows you better than you know yourself.

A bold and outlandish claim for sure...but...what if it were true.

Such a man would need not only be intelligent, but also arrogant. He would be patient and observant. He would possess the insight to know what you needed and the strength to give it to you despite yourself.

A man who knows how and when to disrespect you in all the right ways.

Does such a man exist?......well....that's not for me to say now is it.

Sometimes it's simply about being an enabler.

Sometimes I'm just the guy who lights the fuse on a stick of dynamite that was already set to explode.

One memorable night I simply watched as I made one girl practically devour her best friend's pussy. They were a cute couple. They had been life-long friends but they had never crossed that barrier with each other or any other girl for that matter.

Christ it was just so painfully obvious to me that they were desperate to get the 'girl experience' out of their system. It took very little on my part to convince them that doing it with their best friend really was the best way.

I was more than happy to provide the heterosexual validation to that experience. In the end, having a cock in the mix made all the difference and the results were more than spectacular.

Sweet little Maria buried her face between her best friend's legs and almost wailed as I started to fuck her with force from behind. I pushed her face hard into that soaking pussy with one hand while I used the other to squeeze each nipple mercilessly. As I dug my fingernails in harder, the pain sent her over the edge.