Fit to be Tied

"What news is that?" asked Jesse.

"Tom has decided that just because he doesn't like rope play, it doesn't mean I can't enjoy it."

"So Tom is participating with you?"

"No. He lets me play with a friend of ours who has been into the scene for a while. Tom has no problems with it as long as I don't actually have penetrative sex."

"I really don't." added Tom. "In fact when she comes home from her play time and tells me about it we usually have quite passionate sex after."

While Jesse could never quite gather enough courage to talk to Donny about her fetish, she reasoned that as long as Brett didn't penetrate her she wasn't cheating. When Brett brought up the idea of using dildos and butt plugs in their play, she rationalized that as long as Brett wasn't putting his penis inside her she wasn't cheating.

She pulled into her side of the driveway and into the garage. She was glad that Donny had installed the most quiet garage door opener money could buy. She went inside the house.

All of the lights were off, leaving only the accent lighting in the kitchen and on the stairs to illuminate her path. She went instead to the downstairs bathroom and closed the door. She turned on the light and then inspected herself in the mirror as she stripped for a shower.

Her breasts still showed bruising from being tied. She was no longer surprised about the various marks and bruises left on her alabaster skin after a rope session. Brett tried to be as gentle as possible, but she always asked to be tied tighter. She had been astonished at the appearance of her breasts the first time Brett had tied them up.

He had wrapped the rope around each breast until it was elongated and turning purple. She loved that sensation, even if she wasn't sure about a man other than Donny putting his hands on her breasts.

Her crotch still had the lubricant all over it, and her inner thighs were covered in red marks from the rope, as did her knees and ankles. She made a mental note to see if there was another way to be bound without using rope.

The marks on her body had made her stop having sex with Donny, or if they made love she wore a long night shirt. She didn't think Donny had noticed, she figured as long as he was getting laid he wouldn't notice what she wore or if the lights were on or off.

She took a shower, letting the water pulse over her sensitive clitoris long enough to bring about a huge orgasm. Then she got out and toweled off. The shower hadn't done much to alleviate her marks so she pulled a long t-shirt from behind the stack of towels in the linen closet. She had taken to stashing a couple back there for nights like this.

She was half way up the stairs when she remembered he clothes were in the bathroom still. "I'll get them in the morning," she thought to herself. "Donny has no reason to go in there."

She got to her bedroom door and looked in. She could see three lumps on the bed. One was six foot two, two hundred and twenty pounds and snoring. Then there was Mickey and Minnie. She was quite irritated to find that Donny had allowed them onto the bed. Mickey was lying on her pillow, while Minnie slept about a foot way on her side of the bed.

Mickey was a five pound Chihuahua that Donny had got her for her birthday three years before. At first the little guy was her shadow. He'd be where ever she was. Then one day she and Donny were watching a movie and eating popcorn. Donny, as he always did, would feed Mickey pieces of popcorn ever so often.

Jesse got up to go the bathroom and came back to find Mickey on Donny's lap. When she went to move him he growled at her and snapped. He would growl anytime she tried to touch him when he was with Donny. When Donny got up to go to the bathroom, Mickey followed.

"Why are you following me?" she heard him ask. When he came back Mickey jumped straight up into his lap. From that day forth, when Donny wasn't around Mickey would gravitate to Jesse. But when Donny was home he was Donny's dog.

She could go over and remove Mickey from her pillow but he would growl and make noise possibly waking Donny. But the larger problem was Minnie. If Mickey raised a stink, Minnie would defend him. Minnie was an eighty pound Pit Bull.

Donny had rescued her from some rednecks that were trying to make her drag an engine block around. The chain around her neck had cut her in several places and her food was just out of reach.

Donny had been working on the house across the street and called Animal Control. The officers came and ticketed the people and confiscated the dog. Two weeks later Donny had gone to the pound to see if they had gotten the dog back. He was informed that they had not even attempted to get her, so he adopted her on the spot.

Jesse was irate that he would bring a dog home without cluing her in, but she relented when she saw how well she and Mickey got along. She acted like Mickey was her puppy more often than not.

Jesse was pissed that Donny had taken to letting the dogs on the bed if she wasn't home when he went to bed. Anytime that Mickey wasn't on her pillow she could slip into bed around the dogs. But when Mickey was on her pillow, she knew she was sleeping in the den.

*****

"Where is this fucking clown?"

"Relax bro. He'll be here. He told me he had to meet a guy in Morrison at ten so he'd get here about nine."

Donny and Rick were sitting having coffee in a small café in Morrison. Rick's cousin Herman was due to show at any minute and Donny was getting antsy.

"So you really put her panties in a baggie and brought them?"

"Yup. She snuck in and showered in the downstairs bath the other night. I went in there to get me a fresh towel and found her clothes on the floor. Her panties had something on them, so I figure PI boy can find out what or who is oozing out of my soon to be ex."

"Man, I'm sorry you're having to do this. I never imagined Jesse would cheat on you. You give the cu..., I mean her everything she ever wants."

"Cunt is fine. She ceased being above pond scum the moment I saw them stains."

A few minutes later an unkempt man in a blue Hawaiian shirt and rumpled khaki pants walked in. Donny didn't recognize him until he spoke. "Donny Bauer, as I live and breathe."

"What the fuck Herman? Don't you believe in hygiene anymore?"

The two men chuckled and shook hands. "So. Penis here tells me you have a possible whore issue you need to deal with." Herman said.

"Penis?" asked Donny.

"Yeah, Penis. You know. Ricky, Richard, Dick, Penis; you see the progression?"

"Fuck you asswipe," chuckled Rick.

Donny chuckled. "Yeah I do. That's fucking funny. Penis. Maybe I'll call you wiener boy or some shit and see how long it takes the crew to pick up on it."

"Fuck you too cuck boy."

"Oh! Now that's fucking low dude." said Herman. "Now seriously, Rick here tells me you think your wife is stepping out. I can, with a little info, get you all of the dirt you'll need to bury her ass."

"That would be sweet if we didn't live in a no fault state. All I want is to know if she is for sure fucking around and with whom. I wrote down everything I thought would be pertinent. I also gave you passwords to her cell phone bill and her e-mail addresses," he said as he passed over a thick envelope. Herman took it and shook his head.

"Damn. What do you need me for? I wish all of my clients would make things so easy for me. Look; give me a couple of weeks and I'll see what I can come up with."

"Shit it's only Tuesday so you'll probably have a chance or three before the week is out. She is increasing her frequency. He must be damn good in bed," Donny said as a look of resignation passed over his face.

Herman was suddenly uncomfortable seeing his old friend in pain. "I'm on the case; bro. If she's going out almost every night, I might not even need the full two weeks."

"Do you want to stay for breakfast or do you have pressing business?" Rick asked.

"No man. I gotta go deliver a stack of vids to a gal who wants to castrate her hubby. Doesn't anybody believe in monogamy anymore?"

"Some of us do," said Donny. Rick nodded in agreement.

They all stood and shook hands. Herman then left with the stuff Donny gave him.

"You didn't tell him about the panties."

"He'll notice them when he opens the envelope. I imagine he'll call."

"He'll shit when he sees them. He was expecting info only."

"Oh well. If he can't figure them out, he'll call. Do you want to do breakfast?"

"We better not. The drywall chick will try to rock the whole place by herself."

"Oh I see. You want to help her out," Donny said wiggling his eyebrows in a lavatious manner. "You help her while I get the rest of the house done."

"Dude you are a perv. Besides, if you are about to be single that is one chick I definitely would consider an equal trade or a trade up. The ass that girl has is just ...DAMN!"

"Shall we go before you make a big ol' sticky mess there Penis?"

"Fuck you."

"Look pal, you're my bro and all but I don't swing that way. Save it for the dry wall chick."

*****

Herman had just left the home of a very pissed off client. He figured she would be pissed off over the photographic evidence of her husband's philandering. He was wrong. She was pissed off because she lost a bet with her best friend. They had bet on what woman the man was fucking on the side. "I'll never understand people," Herman thought to himself.

He drove to his office in a small Arvada strip mall. It never failed to make him laugh to see the "Schneider Investigations" sign between Marie's Bridal Boutique and Yarn Barn. He went in and looked at his answering machine. There were no messages so he sat and opened the envelope his former shipmate had given him.

He had already left the panties with a friend who worked at St. Thomas Hospital's pathology lab. Carl had said that he wasn't terribly busy so he should have a DNA sample before the end of the day.

He looked over all of the information he'd been handed, and decided to start with Jesse's cell phone. He opened his computer, and a few mouse clicks later he was entering her numbers and e-mail addresses into a program written by a friend of his from Lakewood.

Fred Murphy had originally written it to spy on his own wife, then he developed it as a great tool for PI's. He might have made a mint from it if the NSA hadn't got wind of it and bought it from him. They had made sure he didn't have any more copies and made him sign a confidentiality agreement.

When Fred had realized that the NSA had missed the few copies that he had given out, he went to those guys and changed a few lines of code to prevent the NSA from seeing the programs as they worked.

In a few minutes Herman had access to all of Jesse's e-mail and was getting copies of her text messages sent to his computer. He spent over half an hour looking through the e-mail that was in her mail box. Nothing in there pertained to his investigation so he concentrated on her cell phone usage.

He looked at her call logs for a one year period. He took note of the ones that had been called the most. The first number that she had only started calling in the past six months turned out to be her answering service. He made a note to see if he or one of his cronies might hack into their system to see who was leaving messages for the good doctor.

He started again at the top of the list and two numbers jumped out at him. Both were local cab companies. The thing that made him look was the fact that they were called an hour and a half apart each time. After talking to the cab companies he was able to ascertain that Jesse had been to two different flea bag motels in the span of a month.

"Playing careful eh?" he said to himself as he went back to the call log. He went back to the time of the cab calls and saw another number start to pop up with an increasing frequency. Her calls to the number seemed to fit with the nights Donny claimed she was out and about. Ten minutes later Herman had the addresses for Dr. Brett Wilson.

He had just entered Brett's information into a national data bank to see his background when Carl called.

"Carl. Do we have some DNA?"

"No DNA. All I found were vaginal secretions, fecal matter, and a water based lubricant."

"So she wasn't having sex?"

"I wouldn't say that Herman. She probably made him use a condom."

"You couldn't let me have a little hope there could you? Wait, fecal matter?"

"Yeah, mixed in with the lube. She obviously likes it in both entrances."

"Ok Carl. E-mail me the results and toss the panties, unless you want them for some perverted reason."

"They wouldn't fit me," Carl laughed, "so I'll just toss them with the med waste for incineration."

"OK, thanks Carl. Now I have to go actually do some work."

Two hours later Herman was walking out of Brett Wilson's apartment building. He stopped long enough to hold the door open for a strikingly beautiful brunette with jade green eyes. As if the eyes and face weren't enough to make guys trip over their tongues, she also had one of the nicest asses Herman had ever seen.

He was wearing a shirt from an appliance repair shop and driving a plain white van so he didn't think his presence would be noticed. He had been to Brett's apartment and had placed small cameras in Brett's bedroom. The décor screamed pretentious and gay. Herman could tell the guy was extremely anal retentive; even his casual clothes were uptight.

One bedroom was plain except for the diplomas on the wall issued to Kate Simmons. She had more degrees hung there than a thermometer. Herman made a mental note of the name but ignored the room.

In Brett's room he found a tube of lubricant and some sex toys. He looked but never found any condoms, used or new which puzzled him. "Maybe she furnishes them?" he asked the empty room. He took a few pictures of items in the room and then quickly placed the small cameras and left. He hooked a small receiver box to the phone line. The location made it highly unlikely that it would be noticed since the phone jack was behind a mahogany roll top desk. He then made sure the hall was clear before he left the apartment.

Two days later, his computer program alerted him to three phone calls between Jesse and Brett. The first was from Jesse to Brett's voice mail asking when he might be available for a session. Twenty minutes later Brett had returned her call and they set a time to meet that evening. Jesse had also asked him to see if there was something other than rope because it was leaving marks.

Brett replied that he'd look into it and call her back. About half an hour later he called her to say he had procured some "bondage tape" that wasn't supposed to make marks. She said she'd see him at six and hung up.

At five o'clock Herman sat across the street from Brett's apartment building in his IROC Camaro. The car was old and needed paint. It stuck out like a sore thumb in that neighborhood, but Herman didn't want to be seen in the area in the white van again so soon.

At five to six he saw Jesse's black Audi pull into the lot. He grabbed his Nikon SLR and shot a dozen pictures of Jesse exiting her car and entering Brett's building. The camera was coupled to a super telephoto lens so Herman knew he got her face in detail as she walked toward the door and into the building. Four hours later he got pictures of her leaving.

An hour later he was in his office commanding his computer to retrieve the images from the four cameras in Brett's apartment. After looking over the images he knew he was done on this case. All he had to do was print the images and get them to Donny. He saved the extra footage from the cameras. He figured to have fun with them later.

In the morning a plumber would visit the building in a plain white van. All evidence that Herman had ever been in there would be gone.

"Fucking kinky whore." Herman opined to himself. Then he continued researching the two doctors.

*****

Kate was eating a salad and watching "The Biggest Loser" when Brett came through the door almost two hours later than usual. "Did you have an actual date tonight?" she asked him.

"No. It has been a shitty day though. Some asshole sliced my tires while I was at work and I had to wait for a tow truck to take me to the tire shop. Not only did I get to spend over a grand on new tires, but while they changed the tires the mechanic discovered that my gas lines were cut. I had to get a cab while the shop fixes my car."

"An angry client?"

"I don't know. Could be I guess, or some punk kids."

"Have you talked to your girlfriend?"

"I don't have a girlfriend. But if you're asking about Jesse, she's not doing too well. I'm a bit worried for her."

"Why? Is she asking you to do more than you are willing?"

"No, her husband served her with divorce papers yesterday."

"Really? Because she has been seeing you?"

"I guess. I don't know for sure. She was so devastated that her friend made her stay with her sister for a while. Her friend called me to say that she wouldn't make it tonight."

"I can't say I feel too sorry for her. She knew that sneaking around on her husband might come with a price."

"But I never fucked her Kate. The only part of me that ever touched her body was my hands, and then only enough to see to her desires. Can I borrow your car for the evening? I feel like I ought to be there for her."

"I guess you can. I just hope your fan club isn't following you. Where is your lady friend?"

"She's at her sister's house in Aurora."

"Ok. Just be careful. Take my Volvo." She handed Brett her extra keys and he left the apartment.

On his drive to Jesse's sister's home he couldn't help but wonder whether Jesse's husband had found out about their games or if he had other reasons to divorce her. Either way he had come to care deeply for Jesse and wanted to be there for her.

Thirty minutes later he pulled up to the address that Jesse's receptionist had given him. It was a nice split level home in a one of the newer neighborhoods. He noticed the freshly mown lawns and well-manicured hedges as he walked to the door. A younger version of Jesse answered the door when he knocked. If he hadn't known they were born four years apart, he would have sworn that they were twins.

"You must be her therapist friend. I'm Leslie."

"I'm Brett. I'm pleased to meet you Leslie."

"I'm sorry we had to meet under these conditions. She hasn't slept or ate since she got here yesterday afternoon."

"Does she have any idea why her husband would do this?"

"None. My only guess is the bastard is cheating on her and didn't have the balls to talk to her face to face. Fucking Neanderthal."

Leslie's venom surprised Brett. He kind of hoped that Jesse's husband was a cheating cad just so his conscience would be clear. Leslie led him up a set of stairs into the large living room. Jesse was curled up in a corner of the couch. She was wearing baggy sweats and it was easy to tell that she'd spent the better part of the past two day crying.

He went over to her and hugged her. She feebly hugged him back, and burst into tears. "What am I going to do now Brett?" she wailed. He just sat there holding her for a few minutes.

Leslie stuck her head into the room, "Brett, would you mind sitting here with her? I am going to see if I can retrieve some of her stuff from her house and pick up some dinner. And don't worry Jess, I won't claw the coward's eyes out."

"I'll stay with her. Call if you need anything."

They heard the front door close and Leslie's car start.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Brett asked.

"Oh I don't know. I don't know anything right now. All I know is my world caved in and the love of my life isn't speaking to me. I haven't seen him in three days."

"Why did he file for divorce? Do you think he's cheating on you?"