Cure, Inc.

Many thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories. For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper...

To fully understand the context of this story, I suggest you read "An Ounce of Prevention" and "A Pound of Cure." The characters are the same, as is the initial premise.

Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...

*****

Ron Wiseman knew something was up the moment he walked into the house. He had been out at the range with a new rifle he had just bought and was looking forward to spending a nice evening home with his pretty wife.

Walking in, he could smell the meal she was preparing and instantly noticed there were three places set at the table for dinner. What was going on, he wondered. He locked the rifle in his gun case and went into the kitchen to see Amy working over the stove.

"That smells delicious," he said, giving her a kiss. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to give you notice, but Jake Halperin is coming by tonight," she said.

"Jake? Isn't that the CEO of your company?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Amy said. "He sprang it on me just as I was leaving. You know I'm up for the PA position that just opened up."

"Yeah," Ron said. "I remember you telling me about that. Didn't you already have your interview?"

"I did," she said. "And it went well. So, tonight is something like a follow-up interview. He says he wants to meet you and get an idea of how things are between us. I guess he wants to make sure we have a good solid family life."

"Couldn't he just talk to us?" Ron asked. "It's kinda presumptuous of him to just invite himself over like that at the last minute, don't you think?" She nodded her head.

"I agree," she said. "I'm not real happy about it, but he says last-minute changes are part of the job and he wants to make sure I'm up to it." She handed him a spoon. "Would you mind watching dinner for a few minutes while I finish getting ready?" He took it from her and looked at what she had on the stove.

"Sure," he said. "Should I get changed or something?"

"No, you're okay as you are," she said. She kissed him on her way out. "I'll be right back. Thanks."

"Sure," Ron said, watching his wife walk away. He understood that her job sometimes required her to entertain her bosses from work, but he was a bit miffed at the way this guy just invited himself over without giving them any real heads-up. He thought back to the last two times she had her bosses over. He hoped tonight wouldn't be a repeat of that.

He knew that Amy had been recommended for the position, which opened up after the previous girl left without saying why. He also knew that Jake had something of a reputation as a ladies' man and was well-known for being rather overbearing with his employees.

As much as he wanted Amy to succeed in her career, he was also a bit concerned. He knew the job would mean more travel for her, as Jake frequently went on trips across the country. At least once a year, he also traveled overseas to Europe. Amy assured him he had nothing to worry about, but Ron wasn't stupid.

A bit later, Amy reappeared in the kitchen, wearing a short sleeveless dress he had never seen before. He also noticed her legs were bare and the dress accentuated the curves of her body. He could also tell she wasn't wearing a bra.

"You look good enough to eat. I don't ever remember seeing that dress before," Ron said. "Did you just buy that?"

"No," she said. "Jake bought it and gave it to me today. He was adamant I wear it tonight."

"Oh he was, was he?" Ron asked. "Is there something I should know?"

"No, it's nothing like that, Ron," Amy said. "It's just that Jake is very demanding and he wants to know that I can take his direction."

"Even in the dress you wear?" Ron asked.

"Well, sometimes, he entertains very important and powerful people," she said. "And he says he needs his assistant to look her best. Look, you know I'd never do anything out of line, so please just go along with me tonight. You do trust me, don't you?"

"I've trusted you all these years," Ron said. "I'm more worried about those bosses of yours. Two of them have already tried to fuck you, after all."

"True," she said. "But we took care of them, didn't we? And wasn't I there with you the whole time?"

"Yeah, you were. I'll give you that," he said. "So, when is he going to be here?" She looked at the clock.

"In about 10 minutes," she said. "And he's very punctual. So I have to have all this out on the table when he gets here. Can you help me with this, please?"

"Sure," Ron said. He grabbed the hot dish out of the oven and placed it on the rack she had on the table. As he did that, she brought out the rest of the dinner. When the clock struck 6, the front door opened. Ron and Amy were a bit shocked to see a large man walk in the house as though he owned it. Ron looked at Amy, a bit miffed. What the hell is going on here, he asked himself.

"Wiseman residence, I presume?" the big man asked. Ron walked into the front room.

"Yes, it is, and we do have a doorbell, you know," he said. "You must be Jake Halperin."

"That's Mr. Halperin to you, Wiseman," he said. Jake spotted Ron's liquor cabinet and walked over to it. "Hope you don't mind if I get something to drink. I'm parched and we have a big night ahead of us."

Before Ron could say anything, Jake opened a bottle of whiskey and took a drink, straight from the bottle. Ron was livid. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was?

"Not bad, Wiseman," he said. "Want a drink?" he asked, holding the bottle out.

"No, thanks," Ron said.

"Make sure you keep this well-stocked," Jake said. "I'll give you a list of what I expect to see when I come over." He looked around the house as though inspecting it for dust.

"Not a bad place you have here, Wiseman," Jake said. "Not bad at all. I think I might get used to it."

"Why don't we sit at the table while Amy gets everything ready for us?" Ron said.

"If you insist," Jake said in response. He looked at the table. "Food smells good. I see your wife can cook. That's good." He sat down and looked at Ron. "You probably know that I'm considering hiring Amy as my new PA."

"Yes, she told me," Ron said.

"I don't suppose she told you what I expect," Jake said.

"She mentioned something about travel," Ron said.

"That's just part of it," Jake said. "You see, if she's hired, Amy would become a bit like my work wife, if you know what I mean. That means she accompanies me everywhere. Takes care of all my needs, if you catch my drift. That means there'll be a few changes for you as well."

"Like what?" Ron asked.

"Well, she'll be spending several nights a week with me," he said. "The whole night. And I expect you to be fully accommodating of our arrangement. You'll make sure I have a clear spot in your driveway and you'll do whatever I say to smooth things over here as well."

"Don't bullshit me, Halperin," Ron said. "You intend to fuck my wife, don't you?"

"Of course," Jake said. "That's what the job entails. She'll see to my needs and the needs of my clients as I see fit. Sometimes, she'll spend a week with me in New York or Las Vegas and she'll help make our clients feel good about using us. Everything will be fine so long as you don't get in the way."

"I see," Ron said. "Did my wife tell you what I do for a living?"

"Yeah," Jake said. "She said you were some kind of a bean counter with a federal task force." Actually, Ron was a researcher for the HomeFront Security Department, a task force made up of both federal and civilian interests that dealt with something called the Mutual Marital Assurance Society. That, however, was classified.

"I am a trained CPA," Ron said. "But I'm more of a researcher than a bean counter. Did she happen to tell you I was in the service before I became a CPA?"

"I think she mentioned something about that," Jake said. "I assume you were an admin type, right?"

"Actually, no," Ron said quietly. "I was a scout-sniper. I killed motherfuckers for a living. And I was damn good at it. I've got 150 confirmed kills to my credit, some of them from as far as a half mile away. At that distance, you never even hear the shot. One second, you're alive and breathing, the next second, you're dead." Jake's eyes grew wide. Ron continued.

"Like I've had to tell a couple of your subordinates, I'm also quite comfortable at close-in kills," Ron said. "There's nothing quite like seeing your enemy realize that his last seconds on earth are upon him. And I'm very protective of what's mine. That includes my wife." Jake's face began to turn white.

"Then you should know I don't tolerate any shit. And you should also know that when you come barging into my house, my personal sanctum, as though you own it, drink my whiskey out of the bottle and demand I keep it stocked for you, then tell me you intend to make my wife your personal whore, I tend to get pissed," Ron said. "And when I get pissed, I get the urge to kill." Jake laughed at that.

"You? A killer?" Jake smirked. "I find that hard to believe. You try anything with me, little man, and I'll pound your ass in the dirt. Then I'll fuck your wife." Just then, Amy came into the dining room. Jake looked at her. "Ah," he said. "I see you're wearing the dress I got you. Good. Why don't we eat and then we can head out to the club." Ron looked at Amy, who also seemed surprised.

"Club?" Ron asked her. "What's this about a club?"

"I don't know anything about any club," she said. "Jake, you never said anything about going out to a club."

"Of course not," he told her. "That's all part of the job. Being able to deal with things as they come up. After we eat, I'm taking you to a club I frequent so I can see how you look on my arm in public. Why do you think I bought that dress? Once we're done there, we'll come back here to finish the night."

"Uh, I don't know about that," Amy said. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm still married, you know."

"Oh, and did Jakey here tell you he plans to fuck you?" Ron said. Amy's mouth opened in shock.

"Oh, God, no," she said. "Not again."

"What do you mean, not again?" Jake asked.

"You're the third boss of Amy's that we've had to deal with," Ron told him. He looked at his wife. "You know, dear, I'm not so hungry anymore. I think we need to teach fatso here a lesson in manners, wouldn't you agree?"

"I most certainly do," she said. Ron opened a drawer in the china cabinet behind him and pulled out a .45 caliber pistol. Jake's eyes grew wide as Ron slammed a round in the chamber.

"Wait, what are you going to do?" Jake asked.

"You like to play games, asshole?" Ron asked. "I've got a real good one downstairs. You think you're man enough to play?"

"I can take anything you can dish out, little man," Jake said. Ron and Amy chuckled.

"Alright," Ron said, holding his pistol. "Get up." Jake got up from the table, his eye on Ron's pistol. "Move," Ron told him, waving the pistol. "That way," he said, motioning to the door that led to the basement. Jake went to the door. "Keep going," Ron told him. Jake opened the door and headed downstairs, followed by Ron and Amy, who turned on the lights.

"What's this?" Jake asked, not quite as cocky as he was before. "Are you going to kill me here? You'll never get away with it."

"I don't plan on killing you," Ron said. "At least not on purpose." When they got downstairs, Jake saw a large wheel at one end of the room and wondered what Ron had in mind. "Now, strip," Ron commanded.

"What?" Jake protested. "You want me to take my clothes off?"

"Well, you were planning to fuck my wife," Ron said. "Were you going to do it with your clothes on? Now, STRIP!" Jake slowly began taking his clothes off.

"You're going to regret this, bitch," he told Amy.

"You call my wife a bitch one more time, asshole, and you won't live to regret it," Ron growled. Jake took his shirt and pants off and Ron saw the rubber girdle holding his stomach in. He laughed.

"You wear a girdle?" he asked. "Seriously?" Amy laughed when she saw it. Jake's face turned red but he continued to disrobe. When he took the girdle off, his stomach flapped down below his waistline.

"My God," Ron said. "You really are a disgusting fat tub of lard, aren't you? No wonder you have to treat women like shit. Probably the only way you can get laid without paying for it. Now, get up on the wheel, facing me."

"You're not serious," Jake said, pleading.

"I said, get on the wheel, asshole. NOW!" Ron ordered. Jake got on the wheel, his feet forced apart by the footrests. Amy zip-tied his ankles to the unit so he wouldn't fall by accident. "Arms up," Ron said. Jake slowly complied and Amy secured his arms to the wheel.

Ron and Amy laughed as they took in Jake's fat form on the wheel, his stomach flopping over his waist.

"Where's your dick?" Ron asked. "I don't see it. What were you planning to fuck Amy with? Your imagination?" Amy giggled at that.

"Hang on a second," she said, running up the stairs.

"I'm going to fuck you up for this," Jake hissed as they waited for Amy.

"I don't think so, asshole," Ron said. "I think that by the time we're through, you're going to have a whole new appreciation for your female employees. I did some checking, you know. It seems that your company is one of the worse when it comes to sexual harassment cases. I guess the old saying about a fish rotting from the head down is true. At least in your case."

By then, Amy came back into the basement, holding a large magnifying glass. She walked in front of Jake, knelt down and made a production of looking at Jake's groin through the glass. She shook her head.

"Sorry, sweetie," she said, looking at Ron. "I looked. I couldn't find his dick. Maybe he doesn't have one." She snapped her fingers. "I know who could help us out." She pulled out her cell phone and hit a number. Ron could hear someone answering at the other end.

"Clarissa?" Amy asked. Ron knew Clarissa was Jake's wife. Jake's eyes grew wide. "Would you mind swinging by my place real quick. I need help finding something... Ten minutes? Great, thanks." She ended the call and looked at Ron.

"Clarissa says she'll be here in ten minutes," she said. "I'm sure she'll be able to tell us where his dick is." Jake looked at both of them shocked.

"No, please don't get her involved in this," he begged.

"What's the matter, fatso?" Ron asked. "You scared your wife might learn what a real asshole you are?" After a few minutes, Clarissa rang the doorbell. Amy headed up the stairs and escorted her into the basement. Clarissa, like Jake, was a bit older than Amy, but she still looked good. Her face broke out into a grin as she spotted Jake on the wheel. She extended her hand to Ron.

"You must be the legendary Ron Wiseman," she said, shaking his hand.

"I am," Ron said. "But I didn't know I was famous." Clarissa laughed.

"Oh believe me, among some of us, you're quite a hero," she said. She glanced at Jake. "Is that what I think it is? Isn't that a 'Wheel of Death?'"

"Why yes, it is," Ron said.

"I've heard of these, but I've never seen one in action," she said, walking around it, inspecting the restraints keeping Jake attached to the wheel. "Does it turn?"

"Yes, it does," Amy said, releasing the brake. Clarissa moved the wheel a bit, causing Jake to shake his head. She giggled and quickly turned the wheel, causing Jake to yell as he spun several times.

"That's fun," Clarissa said. "I need to get myself one of these." She looked at Jake, whose eyes were wide. "Aren't you having fun?" she asked her frightened husband. He shook his head. "So," Clarissa continued, looking at Amy. "What did you need me to come over for?"

"Well," Amy began, "we can't seem to find Jake's dick." Clarissa laughed.

"Don't feel bad, honey," she said. "I haven't been able to find it for years. It seems the only way he can get it up is with a hefty dose of Viagra. Even then, it's only about 4 and a half inches long anyway. He always overdoses on it after he drugs his target with something, which is what I suspect he was going to do to you. Sometimes he'll snort a line or two of cocaine as well. That's part of his MO, you know. That's in addition to bullying you and your husband, which I suspect he's already tried."

"If you know all that, why not just divorce him?" Amy asked.

"Well," she said. "Divorces are expensive and messy. Besides, look at him. At the rate he's going, he'll be dead of a heart attack before long. Unless he pisses off the wrong husband. Either way, he ends up dead and I end up a very rich widow."

"You can't mean that!" Jake exclaimed. Clarissa laughed.

"Of course, I mean that," she told him. Clarissa turned back to Amy. "You know," she added, "he wasn't always like this. Believe it or not, once upon a time he was a pretty decent guy, not the asshole he is now."

"So what happened?" Amy asked. Clarissa shrugged her shoulders.

"I guess the power of his job went to his head," Clarissa said. She turned back to Ron. "So, what do you guys plan to do?"

"It's pretty simple, really," Ron said, uncovering the implements on a table set at one end of the room. "This is a little game Amy and I like to play. It's kinda like strip poker, in that the loser has to remove an article of clothing. You see, we use these on the target," he added, holding up a set of very sharp throwing knives. "Or sometimes, we use a pistol, a crossbow or a bow and arrow. The idea is to get as close as possible without breaking the skin. Most of the time, we use cardboard cutouts or even blow-up dolls."

"I like this game," Clarissa said. "What happens if you break the skin?"

"Well, in that case, the player automatically forfeits and has to get naked," Ron said. "I'll leave the rest to your imagination."

"I'm liking this even more," Clarissa said. "Even if you lose, you win. And your wife actually does this with you?"

"Oh yes," Ron said. "She's actually quite good. She's beaten me more times than I care to admit."

"Really?" Clarissa asked, smiling. "Well, I have to see this. Would you mind if I stay and watch?"

"We'd love to have you watch," Ron said. "In fact, we could use a score-keeper. Would you like to do that?"

"I'd be honored," Clarissa said. She took her seat behind the line after Ron showed her how to measure and take score.

"You ready, dear?" Ron asked his wife.

"Anytime you are," she said, giving her husband a kiss.

"You can't be serious," Jake said. He looked at Clarissa. "Please, make them stop. Don't let them do this to me."

"Shut up, asshole," she told him, venom in her voice. "You've had this coming to you for a long time."

Ron pulled a quarter out of his pocket and handed it to Clarissa.

"Care to do the honors?" he asked. Clarissa took the quarter and flipped it in the air. Amy called heads but tails was showing after the quarter landed on the floor. "I guess I go first," he said, picking up a knife. He looked at Jake. "Don't move, asshole," he said. "I don't want to hit you."

He threw the knife and it embedded itself in the target next to Jake's right ear. He picked up another and threw it, barely missing Jake's throat. A third knife found itself right next to Jake's right thigh. Jake didn't move, but they all saw a trickle of urine run down his thigh.

"Well, look at that," Ron said. "I guess he really does have a pecker after all." The two girls laughed as Jake looked at Clarissa with pleading eyes.

"Please, no more," he begged. "I'll do anything you want, just make this stop."