Three Weeks to Win your Wife

Two things that Pete had said to me penetrated my foggy brain. Heather wasn't Don's type. He wasn't into committed relationships. Maybe his fling with Heather wouldn't last. But if he ditched her would she come back to me? Would I want her back?

The other things was Pete's passing comment about Don's business dealings... how he "cut corners and sailed close to the wind." I resolved to do some digging the next day, took two Zopis, but only two and passed out a short while later.

Wednesday morning I woke late and groggy. Again I called in sick. There was a text on my phone from Heather telling me to check my email. As I suspected it was a dear John or in my case, a dear Jack letter.

"Dear Jack... Don's asked me to move in with him and I've said yes. You were right... he isn't interested in any sort of open marriage arrangement. He want's me all to himself.

We're going to come round for my things this afternoon. It might be better if you weren't there. I don't think there's anything else we can say and I don't want another horrible scene.

I'm really sorry that it had to end like this and sorry to cause you so much pain. I hope we can still be friends... although I realize that may take some time."

I closed the file and shut down my laptop. There was more but I didn't want to read it. Strangely I felt quite calm. The letter just confirmed my worst fears... turning them into facts. In a way it brought some closure.

Call me a coward but I didn't want a confrontation either. Coffee, a bit of breakfast, a shower, more coffee and I drove out to the coast walking for miles on a wild west beach. It was a windy day with a pounding surf and certainly cleared my head. I assessed my situation. I still had my health, if I didn't destroy my liver with alcohol. I had an excellent job. I was still only a few years over thirty. I had plenty of time to find another woman. There were several cute young things at work who fancied me. But I didn't want another woman. I wanted Heather and my future looked bleak, empty and pointless without her.

The only motivation I could find in my broken being was revenge... a cold, calculated revenge but still a release for the anger and pain that I had bottled up inside. In one of his great songs Leonard Cohen has the line... "When hatred with his package comes, you forbid delivery." Well I was accepting the package and giving hatred a large tip.

Back at the empty house almost all Heather's stuff was gone along with a few treasured mementos. I have to admit I cried at this point. In fact I howled like a dog with raw misery. But fortunately pain like this isn't constant. It comes in waves. Tidal waves at first which overwhelm you but gradually the waves of grief become more manageable.

That night I didn't hit the bottle, I hit the internet. I don't think I told you but at 33 I'm already Business Manager of the television station. I have a strong accounting background and highly developed IT skills. I know that makes me sound like a geek. I wish I had a black ops background like Liam Neeson in the Taken films, but for what I was trying to do, my skill set was perfect.

I started digging into Don's business affairs, using my knowledge of company structures, following leads and opening closed doors. I contacted a couple of old friends. Mike and I were at school together and as teenagers we dabbled in hacking and exploring the deep net. He had specialized in IT, had built his own software company and was far more expert in penetrating security systems than I'd ever be.

Lars and I had studied accounting together at University and had remained friends. He was now a top forensic accountant usually contracted by Inland Revenue. A burly redhead, Lars looked much more like a brutish, viking marauder than a number cruncher but if you were into some dodgy dealings financially, Lars was the last guy you'd want on your case.

Thursday I was at work early, catching up with the backlog from the last two days. Thursday night I was back on my laptop and making some very interesting progress. It seemed that Donny boy was as fast and loose with his finances as he was with his women... but in the financial field their are laws and it was becoming clear that Don had treated a lot of them with arrogant disregard.

There was no email or text from Heather. I didn't expect one and didn't try to contact her. There were a few queries from friends and a worried answer phone message from Heather's Mum. I ignored them all and dug deeper.

Friday at work Pete came up to my office.

"You got a minute Jack?"

"Yeah sure Pete, what's up?"

Pete shut the door behind him, sat down and started speaking in a quiet, conspiratorial manner.

"I did some checking round... with some of Don's mates... about you know what... and I found out some bloody interesting stuff. It looks like there's another bet going... between Don and some of rich mates. Not ordinary blokes like me... "

I happened to know that Pete was a shrewd investor and very well off, but I let it pass.

"Nah this is big league stuff, cars and boats and big money."

"So what's the bet?"

"Hold your horses, I'm getting to that. From what I could garner Don bet his mates that he could take a loving, loyal wife, steal her from her husband and turn her into his sex slave in under a month. A few of his big noter pals took up the bet. I don't think they know him like I do. No names were mentioned but I think it's pretty bloody obvious that your little Heather was Don's target and from what you've told me, he's well on his way to winning... bugger him."

I struggled to find my voice. "Thanks Pete. Thanks for all your work. It's not easy to hear I'm glad to know. Any idea when the bet ends? "

"Well I've heard that there's a shindig at Don's place Saturday night. Rich arseholes only. I'm not invited. That could be when Don claims his win. You must be so pissed mate... you probably want to kill the bastard."

"Yeah... I most certainly do... but I don't fancy paying for it in jail. I've got a better plan."

I outlined to Pete what I was working on with my friends. He was very impressed.

"That's bloody brilliant mate. He'll be the one doing time in the pokey which is what he deserves. I hope you nail his ass to the wall."

Saturday I spent online... sharpening nails to hammer into Don's coffin. Following my leads Mike had found me all sorts of juicy evidence. In his business dealings Don had been both corrupt and cavalier. A bit more work and I'd have a damning case to hand Lars... then I could sit back and watch my viking friend burn Don's rich mansion to the ground.

I tried not to think how it would impact on Heather... having her beloved boyfriend locked up for tax fraud. Right now I had one objective... revenge on the smirking lecher who stole my wife.

I had a tennis match booked at the club in the afternoon. I forced myself to leave my secret battleground and play a couple of sets. I played surprising well... my opponents commenting that I was showing much more aggression that usual.

Saturday night I found myself feeling horny for the first time in over two weeks. I lay back on the couch stroking my cock and wondering what Heather was up to. I don't think for a moment that I have any psychic abilities but somehow I felt sure that something intensely wild was happening at Don's party and that Heather was the center of attention. This speculation was pointless. I'd probably never know what was happening. I didn't want to masturbate thinking about Heather. It would just drop me back into deep depression.

I opened up my laptop and found some nice scenes of women in cars flashing truckers and playing with their naked bodies. That did the trick. I came copiously, cleaned myself up and went to sleep quite quickly in the spare bed. I couldn't yet cope with sleeping in the double on my own.

Sunday I woke up very early. I realized that someone was knocking on he back door. I glanced at my watch on the bedside table. 6.10am. Who the hell would be knocking at this hour on a Sunday morning. I pulled on track pants, a T shirt and hurried downstairs. When I opened the back door I was shocked. It was Heather and she was looking terrible. Her hair was a sticky mess and her make up had run. Her eyes were red from crying. Her feet were bare and grubby. But what struck me most was how small Heather looked... as though she had been crushed.

"Can I come in?" Heather asked in a tearful voice.

"Of course. I'm sorry. Come in." I opened the door and moved back to let her in. Heather flung herself against me and broke down into floods of tears. I held her there by the back door until slowly the crying diminished. I've never seen her look or smell this bad. She stank of sweat, smoke and sperm. I could feel that her body was naked under the ripped rag she was wearing. I felt ashamed that it slightly turned me on.

Suppressing any sexual thoughts I helped Heather upstairs and into the bathroom where she showered for a very long time. When she was finally done I brought her the softest, fluffiest towel I could find and one of my T Shirts to act as a nightie. Heather smiled at me gratefully as I helped her into the big bed. She slept till well after noon.

When Heather came downstairs she looked much better. Still a bit drowsy and tousled but clean and less exhausted. I had prepared a light brunch but Heather was ravenous and consumed eggs on toast, strawberry jam on toast, two muffins, plus several crackers and cheese washed down with a large orange juice. We sat at the breakfast bar sipping our coffee. I wasn't sure what to say. Heather broke the awkward silence.

"Mmmmm that was delicious, thank you."

"You're very welcome. Looks like you haven't eaten in a while."

"Not since yesterday morning."

"Do you want to tell me what happened? You don't have to if you're not ready."

"No I want to tell you... I need to talk about it... or it'll stay in my stuck in my head and I'll go crazy. Even crazier than I've been."

I could see her struggling for control. I stroked her hand.

"Take your time. There's no hurry." Heather took a deep breath and began.

"After I moved in with Don on Wednesday it all changed. Up until then he had been so lovely to me... considerate, charming, generous... loving. But when I moved it it was like he owned me. He started ordering me round... do this... get that. He sent me out on errands to get groceries and pick up his dry cleaning which wasn't so bad but he made me do it in a slutty outfit which made me feel like a hooker... a denim skirt that was too short and a black tank top that was way too tight... high heeled white boots... what you'd call "fuck me" boots. He didn't let me wear any underwear... so my nipples were showing through the fabric and I couldn't bend down or my bottom would have been exposed. It was so embarrassing. While I was in the house he didn't let me wear clothes at all."

"Why were you so obedient? " I asked. "You're a woman... a capable, intelligent woman... not a child... or a slave."

"I don't know. I was in a bit of a daze... ever since I met him. Things have happened so fast. He's so tall and handsome and confident. I just got swept along. Right from the start I always did what he said. And I thought I loved him. When I was with him there was so much sex and it was so overwhelming. I was totally aroused all the time... I couldn't think straight." Heather shuddered.

"But the sex changed too. He was a lot more demanding, more extreme. Before it was all about my pleasure... now it was about his... and it gave him pleasure to hurt me. He started slapping me Jack... a lot... on my bottom but also on my breasts and my pussy... even my face. He pinched and pulled my nipples and squeezed my breasts so hard he made me cry out loud. And that great big penis... he used it like a weapon... slamming it into me with all his strength... over and over. And the worst thing Jack..." Heather's dark eyes were brimming with tears... "I sort of enjoyed it... well not enjoyed it but it still turned me on. I still kept cumming. And I was feeling so bad about what I'd said to you and done to you... how I'd left you... how sad you looked... I felt so guilty... I deserved to be punished. Part of me welcomed it."

We sat in silence for a while. Heather swallowed the last of her coffee and gathered her courage.

"Friday was bad. Don put a thick leather collar on me. He didn't ask, he just did it. And locked it so I couldn't take it. He said it was a sign that I belonged to him... that I was his... bitch. I hated that. Then he fucked me hard from behind... pulling on my hair. I though he was going to rip me apart.

All that day he made me stay on my hands and knees... giving me commands like.. come... sit... beg. He didn't treat me like a person at all. I had to drink and eat from a bowl on the floor. Later in the afternoon he said he was going to take me for a walk... walkies he said. He clipped a leash to the collar and led me to the front door. I couldn't believe he was going to take me outside like that... naked... on all fours. I tried to fight him. I held on to the side of the door and wouldn't let go... but he smacked me so hard I had to. Then he dragged me down the hall to the lift... which was empty. But down in the lobby there were people who saw me like that. I just wanted to curl up and die.

He led me outside into the garden and more people saw me. One man was taking pictures with his phone. Then he made me pee Jack. I wouldn't do it... but he smacked me again... great big smacks. My bottom was all red. I started peeing without wanting to."

Heather broke down. I brought her a glass of water which she gulped down. I rubbed her back.

"You don't have to gone on."

"Yes I do Jack. I have to get through this... That night.. Friday night... Don left me chained up in the bathroom. Chained! I could reach the toilet and the sink but the chain was padlocked to my collar and a solid pipe. There was no way I could escape. Even if the place had been on fire I couldn't get away.

When Don came back later he had a girl with him... a tall blonde... really pretty. He showed me off to her as his pet. He told her to pet me and smack me... which she thought was really funny. It was so humiliating. Don held me by the collar and told her to fuck me with the toilet brush. First she used the bristles between my legs which hurt like crazy... then she shoved the handle into my pussy and left it there. Don starting fucking her in front of me... mocking me while he did it. Then they went off into the bedroom and left me there... all night.

About half way through the morning Don came into the bathroom naked. His barbie must have left during the night. He pretended he was going pee on me but then he laughed and peed in toilet... right in front of me.

He told me to get cleaned up and make myself look nice. There were people coming round that night for a party. Important people. Don's friends. I begged him to let me put on clothes for the party and he said he had something special.

The something special turned out to be a sort of porno parody of a maid's outfit... a ridiculously short black skirt and a white frilly apron the would barely cover my breasts... fishnet stockings, black stilettos and that was it. Of course there were no bra or panties. When I saw it I burst into tears. This was just as bad as being naked. Maybe worse. I pleaded with Don to let me go.

"Where are you going to go?" he asked me. "You've left your wimp of husband. All your stuff is here. You're mine and you're not going anywhere."

I collapsed on the floor crying... which Don hates. He raised his hand to slap me.. but changed his mind and stroked my hair. Sounding more like the old, loving Don he told me that if I behaved myself that night... did everything he told me... on Sunday I could do what I like... leave or stay... I was free to choose. He took off my dog collar and kissed me. Don told me he wanted me to stay but things had got "a bit intense" and he would understand if I needed a break. I made up my mind to cooperate that night then leave the next day.

Don's guests started to arrive around 8pm and I was there to meet them in my costume which was every bit as bad as I thought. I felt so exposed and slutty but I smiled and served drinks. The caterers were also serving drinks and finger food... but they were decently dressed which made me feel even worse.

The guests were mostly guys plus a few women who looked like expensive escorts. A lot of the guys groped me as I was serving... grabbing my breasts under my apron... or putting their hands up my tiny skirt... touching my bare bottom or my pussy. Did I tell you that Don made me shave it completely bare?

About 9 Don called all his guests together and when they were all listening he started his speech. He welcomed them, made a couple of rude jokes then got down to business. "You all know why we're here." he said. "To settle a wager we made three Sundays." He had bet them that he could steal a loyal wife from her husband and turn her into his sex slave... his SEX SLAVE! in less than a month. I remember what he said... "I've done what I said I could do in well under a month... and here's the proof. Heather come here!"

I was in a daze as I walked forward. I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. Another bet... much worse than your one... but once again I was the target. And there I was... standing in the middle of the room with everyone looking at me. Don told me to lower my top. I pulled down the apron. He told me to raise my skirt and I pulled it up to my waist. There were cheers and whistles from Don's friends. I just stood there naked, feeling completely numb.

Don ordered me to kneel in front of him. I obeyed. He took out his big penis and ordered me to kiss and lick it. I did it Jack... I did everything he told me. I sucked his penis and his balls. I took it as deep and fast as I could... choking... tears running down my face. And all the time I was thinking of you... that's what got me through. I was thinking if I could just do what he ordered ... be a good, submissive little sex slave... I'd be allowed to leave tomorrow and I could come back to you... back to my real life.

Don pulled out of my mouth just before he came and shot his load all over my face and breasts. The guys all cheered. Don had won his bet. He wiped his penis in my hair, tucked it away and went to collect his winnings.

I was hauled off to the spare bedroom where most of the guys at the party used me... maybe all of them. I couldn't keep count. It was awful.. they didn't talk to me they just fucked me in my pussy, my ass, my mouth. Sometimes all three at once. I felt like an object, a piece of meat... not a person.

Eventually I sort of passed out on the bed. When I came to I could hear Don and one of his friends talking. I realized they were talking about me. The friend asked Don if he was "going to let the little slut go after this." I'll never forget Don's reply.

"No way. I've laid out too much cash on the bitch to let her go. She can work it off, on her back, in the club." His friend asked if Don was going to send me to the flash club or the one downtown. I realized then that Don never intended to let me go. He was planning to make me work as a prostitute in a brothel... and not even an upmarket brothel. "I'll send her down to the docks" Don said. "Madame Chu will keep her in line.. like my Thai girls."

I lay there pretending to be unconscious. Even so two more guys still fucked me before the place quietened down and all the guests had left. I waited a while longer then got up as quietly as I could. I managed to find my skirt and top. I couldn't find my shoes. I tiptoed to the door and let myself out... then I ran... down the corridor... down the stairs and outside. I had no money. No shoes. I was wearing next to nothing... but I was free. I was terrified of being caught and hid when any car came past but luckily there was very traffic at that time. I ran as long as I could and then I walked. I would have crawled if I had to. And finally I got here just after sunrise... and you answered the door... and here I am."