An Ounce of Prevention

An Ounce of Prevention

I've read several stories where a woman's boss tells her husband he is going to fuck her. This is my take on that theme, which includes a reference to my "Revenge in Advance, A Sequel" series. I'm already working on a followup to this, by the way.

As usual, constructive comments are welcome and please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...

Ron Wiseman was anxious to get home to Amy, his lovely wife of 10 years. Not only was she a beautiful woman who kept herself in great shape, she was a fantastic cook and the best lover a man could ever want.

The day before, Amy said she would like to invite her new boss, Mike Armstrong, to the house for dinner. According to her, he wanted to meet her husband and get a feel for her family environment. Ron saw no harm in that and said he would like to meet her new boss, especially since the last two men who held that position didn't last very long and left under somewhat mysterious circumstances.

The most recent man who held that position left after just a few months on the job, claiming he needed to take a lengthy sabbatical in Sri Lanka to "find himself," and the man before him was found decapitated in his garage, his hands tied behind his back. Police ruled it a suicide, but his genitals -- which had been surgically removed -- were never found.

Ron noticed the time and sent a text to his wife before locking his office, letting her know that he was on his way. Her reply came instantly.

"C U soon. Love U!"

Ron bid his secretary farewell and headed home, stopping long enough to get a bouquet of roses for his wife. He loved doing things like that to surprise her and she loved getting his gifts of love. She also enjoyed thanking him for his little gifts.

Ron pulled into his driveway, noticing the black Mercedes by the curb in front of his house. At least the man thought enough to stay out of my driveway, Ron thought.

He went into the house and saw a well-dressed man in his late forties sitting on his couch. Ron sized him up. He was fairly tall, appeared well-built with a touch of gray at his temples. He was clean-shaven and appeared to have one of those perpetual smirks on his face. He stood up with a crooked smile on his face as Ron stepped into the room and offered his hand. Ron accepted before excusing himself.

He went into the kitchen and handed Amy the bouquet before taking her in his arms. Her face lit up as she accepted the flowers.

"I'll have to properly thank you for these later," she whispered. Ron kissed his wife's pretty face, his hand on her ass. "Now, be a good host and go say hello to Mike," she said. Ron kissed her again and went back into the front room. He went to his liquor cabinet and offered Mike a shot of whiskey, which he accepted.

The two men sat in the front room after Ron poured the liquor.

"That's quite a wife you have there," Mike said, his sideways smile becoming more pronounced.

"I have to agree," Ron said. "She's my reason for living."

"Then I guess you'll understand why I'm about to tell you what I'm going to do," Mike said.

"Really?" Ron asked. "What's that?"

"I'm going to fuck your pretty wife," Mike said. "She's going to love it and you're going to watch."

"Hold that thought for just a second," Ron said. "I'll be right back." He went into the kitchen.

"I'm going to show Mike around a bit," he said. "We'll be right back." Amy gave him a knowing look.

"Don't be too long, dear," she said. "Dinner will be done in about 15 or 20 minutes."

"Perfect," Ron said. He went back into the front room.

"You didn't tell your wife what I said, I hope," Mike said. Ron shook his head.

"No, no," Ron said. "Let's step into my cave, shall we," he said, motioning for Mike to follow him. Mike got up and followed Ron into his office, also known as his personal "man-cave." Mike looked around at what was on the walls.

In addition to photographs, there were a number of official commendations, medals, knives and guns mounted on the wall, along with several swords.

"So, you intend to fuck my wife, do you?" Ron asked. Mike nodded his head.

"Yes, I do," he said, smirking. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"I take it my wife never told you about me," Ron said.

"She tells me you're an accountant who does research for some kind of special task force," he said.

"Yes," Ron said, "it's true that I'm a certified accountant and yes, I do work for a combined federal-private task force. But I wasn't always an accountant."

"Oh?" Mike said. Ron pointed at the items on the wall.

"I used to be in the military, you know. During that time, I was a scout-sniper," Ron said. "Most of my 150 confirmed sniper kills were in the 300 -- 600 yard range, but I have successfully taken out targets as far as 1,200 yards. That's more than half a mile and at that distance, you'll never hear the shot. One second, you're alive and breathing, and the next, you're dead." He opened a drawer and ran his hands over his collection of knives. Mike wasn't very comfortable by now and became even less comfortable as Ron pulled out one very large knife.

"I'm also quite comfortable with close-in kills," he said, holding the sharp blade so Mike could see it. "There's nothing quite like seeing your enemy take his last breath up close and personal." Mike's face turned white and the smirk disappeared.

"Look, Ron, this isn't personal," Mike stammered.

"Oh, but it is, Mike," Ron said. "You just told me you were going to fuck my wife and you expect me to watch. That makes it very personal to me. I just want you to know what it is you're risking. You see, I believe in the old saying that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. You understand, I'm sure." He looked at his watch.

"Oh, I think dinner is just about ready. We'd better get back," he said. Mike nodded his head and watched in horror as Ron threw the knife at a thick target on the far wall. The knife hit dead center before burying itself halfway to the hilt. "I like to keep in practice," Ron said to Amy's ashen-faced boss.

They made their way to the dining room, where Amy had set three places at their table, with the bouquet Ron brought home in the center. As always, she placed Ron at the head of the table, with Mike to his left and herself on his right. They sat and Ron took Amy's hand in hers. He offered his hand to Mike.

"We like to say grace before we eat," he said. Mike gingerly took Ron's hand. Amy and Ron bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Mike followed suit, not knowing what to expect.

"Lord," Ron said, "thank you for this food which we are about to eat. Thank you for your many blessings on our home and our family. May you continue to bless us with your wisdom and your grace. Amen."

"I hope everyone likes it," Amy said, uncovering the plates to reveal a juicy Cornish game hen, one of Ron's favorites. "I started slow-cooking it this morning."

"This is delicious, dear," Ron said, as he took a large bite. "Don't you agree, Mike?" Mike nervously nodded in agreement.

"Yes, it's very good," he said. "You're a wonderful cook, Amy." Ron noticed Mike looking at him nervously as he complimented Amy on her cooking.

"Don't worry, Mike," he said. "I never kill anyone at the dinner table, do I dear?" Mike's face blanched as Amy nodded in approval.

"Not without good cause," she said. "It can get quite messy and I really don't like having to clean the blood out of the tablecloth," she added. "After all, it's over 100 years old."

"By the way, dear," Ron said. "Mike tells me he plans to fuck you. And he wants me to watch. Did you know anything about that?"

"Really?" Amy asked. "No, he never said anything to me about that." She looked at Mike. "Is that true, Mike? Do you plan to fuck me?"

"Please, Amy, I didn't say that. Maybe your husband misunderstood me," Mike said, shaking his head. Ron pulled out a tiny digital recorder and pressed a button.

"I'm going to fuck your pretty wife," Mike's voice said. "She's going to love it and you're going to watch." Mike's face turned red as Amy shook her head.

"What is it with you?" Amy asked. "We welcome you into our home, feed you, offer our hospitality and this is how you repay us?"

"Please," Mike said. "It was only a joke. I was just kidding."

"Well, there you have it, dear," Ron said. "He was only joking."

"I don't know," she said. "What's the punchline? I'm not laughing."

"Look, I didn't mean it," Mike said, holding up his hands. "Really."

"Is that what you told the husband of the last wife you screwed?" Ron asked.

"What are you talking about?" Mike asked.

"I told you I'm a researcher. I checked you out when Amy told me about you," Ron said. "According to my research, you were quietly let go from Acme Enterprises three months ago after being named in a civil suit for alienation of affection. The man who filed that lawsuit was the husband of a woman he divorced after catching the two of you naked in a hotel room." Mike looked down at his plate.

"Is that true?" Amy asked Mike.

"Yes," Mike said quietly. "I've done some things I'm not proud of, but that's all in the past."

"Speaking of the past," Ron said. "I also learned that Mike's ex-wife was so tired of his cheating that she reached out to a group called the Mutual Marital Assurance Society, or MMAS. Isn't that true, Mike?"

"Yes, it's true," he said.

"I've even seen the video of the punishment she was going to have meted out to him," Ron told Amy. "Quite brutal, actually. I would have thought that would make you change your ways, but it didn't, did it, Mike?" Mike looked at him, shocked.

"How do you know about that?" he asked. "That was supposed to be kept quiet."

"Mike, Mike," Ron said, shaking his head. "I told you I'm a researcher. I have access to information you wouldn't believe. It was my task force that intervened with your wife on your behalf. Don't you remember?" Ron looked at Amy. "After we reached out to his wife, she agreed to give him a choice. Either accept the punishment and stay in the marriage or accept a fair divorce settlement. I guess he didn't want the humiliation so he accepted the divorce." Ron looked back at Mike.

"You know, you really dodged a bullet with that one," he said.

"What kind of punishment was she going to give him?" Amy asked.

"Brutal stuff," Ron said. "Mike would have been tied up and thrashed severely on the balls. He would have been forced to watch his wife fuck several men and then he would be forced to eat their cum out of her pussy. She would have had him branded and used him as her 'pony.' Not a pretty picture."

"Hmm..." Amy said. "Branded, huh?"

"Yup," Ron said. "Right on his ass. Slowly." Mike winced at the memory.

"And your group saved his ass?" Amy asked. Ron nodded his head.

"Unfortunately. Apparently, he didn't learn his lesson," Ron said.

"Maybe we should teach him that lesson," Amy said. "Here, tonight." Ron nodded his head.

"You may be onto something, dear," he said. He looked at Mike, who was shaking his head furiously.

"No, please, don't do that," he begged, looking from Ron to Amy.

"Why not?" Ron asked. "You obviously didn't get the message before. Maybe we should teach you that it's not nice to fuck other men's wives. I still have your ex-wife's number. Maybe we should invite her over so she can help teach you your lesson. And I have lots of things I can use to cause you plenty of pain." Ron looked at Amy.

"You know, I still have that knife-throwing board down in the basement," he said.

"What are you talking about?" Mike said.

"You know, one of those moving boards used in the impalement arts. Surely you've seen them. The assistant, usually a scantily-clad woman, is sometimes strapped to the board and the thrower has to get the knives as close as possible without hitting her. I think it was called the 'Wheel of Death.' We can strip Mike naked, tie him spread-eagle onto the board and see how close we can come to his balls without cutting them off," he said. He looked at Mike.

"Wouldn't that be fun?" he asked. "You know, Amy's pretty good at throwing knives too, but not quite as good as I am."

"Isn't that the board that rotates?" Amy asked. Ron nodded his head. "Oh, yes. That would be fun. We can take bets to see who can get the closest." She looked at Mike. "Come on, Mike. It'd be a blast."

Mike got out of his chair, his face white, his eyes wide, his body physically shaking from terror.

"No," he said. "You people are crazy. Look, it was just a joke. Please forget I said anything." He tried to turn away but Ron grabbed him, swung him around and pinned him to the wall, his hand on Mike's throat. Amy joined him, a two-pronged serving fork in her hands.

"Sorry, pal, we're not laughing," Ron said.

"Please," Mike begged. "What do I have to do to make this go away?"

"That's easy," Ron said. "You'll forget any notion of fucking my wife or any wife other than your own from now on. And you'll be the epitome of professionalism. There'll be no working late nights and certainly no out-of-town business trips with Amy unless I'm there. And you WILL treat every woman with the deference and respect she deserves."

"Is that all?" Mike asked. Ron nodded.

"Yeah, pretty much," Ron said. "Just know that I'll be watching. And if you fuck up, you'll pay the price you should've paid a long time ago. Got it?" Mike nodded his head. "Good. Now, do you have something to say to us?" Mike nodded his head again.

"I'm sorry. Really, I am. I won't ever do anything like that again, to anyone," he said. "Please accept my apologies and forgive me." Ron looked at his wife.

"What do you think, dear?" he asked. "Should we forgive him?"

"Well, dear," she said, "we do believe in forgiveness. So yeah, we'll forgive him this time." Ron loosened his grip on Mike's throat. He looked at his wife.

"So, what's for dessert?" he asked.

"I whipped up a really nice cheesecake," she said. "Would you boys like a piece?" Ron looked at Mike, who was shaking with terror.

"Well, how about some dessert?" he asked Mike, who shook his head.

"Uh, no, thanks," he said. "I, uh, really need to get home." Ron noticed Amy looking at Mike's trousers, and directed his gaze down. He saw the wet spot on Mike's crotch and shook his head.

"Yeah, I can see why you'd need to head home," Ron said, noticing an odor emanating from Mike's trousers. "Go on, get out of here. And remember what I said."

"I will," Mike said, running for the front door. They both noticed the wet stain on the back of his trousers as he headed out.

"Can you believe he actually shit his pants?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, disgusting, isn't it?" Amy said in response. "And he actually thought he'd fuck me. What a tool. Maybe I should bring him a box of Depends tomorrow." Ron laughed.

After hearing the screech of tires, Ron turned to his pretty wife.

"God, I'm so fucking hot for you right now," she said, pulling her panties off. She tore her dress off and sat on the table where Mike had been, pushing his plate to the side. She spread her legs wide and pulled her bra off. "Fuck me, right here, right now," she said. Ron pulled his trousers down and approached her, his erect cock leading the way. He wrapped his arms around her as he impaled her wet, shaved pussy.

"Oh, baby, you know what I like," she said, pulling him deeper into her pussy. "Fuck me, baby, cum inside my pussy." He pounded into her, reveling in her warmth. "Oh, yes, baby, this pussy is yours," she said. "All yours." Soon, he exploded inside her, filling her with his semen. Amy kissed him deeply. Finally, they untangled themselves and looked at the table.

"Think that cheesecake will hold until tomorrow?" Ron asked. Amy nodded her head.

"Oh yeah," she said. "Let's clean this mess up then we'll finish dessert upstairs, okay?"

Note: In 2013, a man was found in his garage, decapitated with his hands and feet tied. Police in Tulsa, Oklahoma, confirmed the incident was a suicide but didn't go into details, insinuating the man had hung himself...