Friday

Girls' Night Out had begun with Chrissy, Anna, and Lena, shortly before we married. It wasn't really a night out; Lena and Anna just went to Chrissy and Bill's, kicked Bill out, and did something or other. At first, it was irregular, maybe once a month or so. By the time we'd been married two years, it was firmly established on Friday. Every Friday. That's when Friday began to suck. Lena wouldn't even talk about changing the date, let alone skipping it. Nor would she listen to my concerns about Chrissy.

This particular Friday, I had already called Bill, and he and Todd had something else to do, so I was in for yet another solitary Friday night.

Friday. Bleccch.

I stood in the living room, laying out my provisions. This consisted of putting the chips, dip, cheese, and beer in precise position for easiest access from the sofa. I had it down to a science. I was just about to sink into the sofa when Lena shocked me.

"Would you like to join us?" I stared at her like she had three heads. She grinned at me, and repeated herself slowly, as if she were speaking to a four year old.

"Would you like to join us at Chrissy's tonight?" This was strange. I began to feel around for clues.

"Um, what does Chrissy want?"

"Chrissy isn't the boss." Her tone was just a little bit snippy. "Todd and Bill will be there, too."

This started to sound better: maybe the dreaded Girls' Night Out could become a Couples' night?

"With pleasure, my dear." The little voice in my head kept asking "Wait a minute, what's going on here?" I looked at my beautiful wife, kissed her lightly, and told the voice to sit down and shut up.

We had no sooner arrived than Lena joined Chrissy and Anna in the dining room, leaving me with Bill and Todd. It wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but at least I could hear my Lena's voice, and could enjoy gazing at her lovingly. I didn't care a whit if the others thought I was a sentimental sap.

"Is that really what they do every week, just sit and talk?" I asked.

"Pretty much," Bill answered.

"For four hours? I'd be bored stiff."

"Oh, they play cards some, too." Wait a minute. I'd never heard Lena even talk about playing cards, much less seen her do it. She didn't actively dislike it, it just didn't interest her. Besides, how did Bill know what they did, if they kicked him out of the house? The little voice was saying something wasn't quite right here.

I was drowning the little voice with my second beer when the girls marched into the living room, commanding our attention.

"We want to play poker, and we need you guys as witnesses," Chrissy announced.

"Witnesses?" I asked, laughing. "That sounds pretty serious. Are the stakes that high?"

"You'll see," Chrissy answered. She looked as if she were trying not to smirk at me. "You sit here." She steered us to a row of three chairs near the dining table. I smiled at Bill and Todd, shrugging my shoulders.

"We need to tie you down so you can't move around and see the cards," Chrissy announced. My laugh was a little forced this time. This wasn't like any poker game I'd ever heard of, but I told myself we men never know what to expect from the female brain anyway. The little voice wasn't persuaded.

Each girl handcuffed her guy's wrists to his chair. As Lena bound me, she looked into my eyes and said, "I love you, Jason." Her serious tone unsettled me. This, for a simple poker game?

"Jason, you asked about the stakes? The stakes are our clothes," Chrissy stated.

"What? Lena, did you agree to this?" Silence from Lena; a smirk from Chrissy.

"This is ridiculous. Lena, unlock me. We need to go home."

"I can't, Jason. I promised." She didn't look at me as she said it.

"Promised? Promised whom? I'm your husband!" This was looking worse and worse.

"Jason, what if we exclude our underwear?" Anna asked, obviously trying to calm me down. That wouldn't be so bad; the underwear Lena usually wore was feminine, frilly and lacy, but not particularly revealing, certainly no worse than a bikini. Still, I was getting a very bad feeling about this.

The girls played. Chrissy was the first to lose her skirt. When she did, she stood up to face us. She wore a garter belt and stockings, but no panties.

"See, Jason? This is all the underwear I have, and I promise it will stay on." She smirked at me as she said it.

"Lena," I said, my mouth suddenly dry. "Are you wearing panties?" She neither answered, nor looked at me. I had my answer. I glanced over at Todd and Bill. Todd was staring at Chrissy's exposed pussy; Bill was smirking at me. My pulse began to pound.

The game continued. Anna, then Lena, lost and removed their skirts, displaying their lack of panties. It was obvious this had all been planned in advance. Lena had known when she invited me that I would be tied to a chair and forced to watch her strip for Bill and Todd. Everyone knew the plan but me. I'd had enough.

"Lena, this has gone too far. If you value our marriage, unlock these cuffs now." My voice was low and deadly serious. Lena did not even look at me. Instead, Chrissy stood, took a ball gag from the sideboard, and tried to force it into my mouth. I held my jaw shut so that she couldn't get it in.

"Bill, Todd, give me a hand, here." They stood to help her, and eventually had me gagged. Lena didn't look at all surprised to see the supposedly bound men stand up: she had known all along that I was the only one who would really be tied to a chair.

"Now that that's settled, the game can continue," Chrissy stated with satisfaction.

Blouses joined the pile of clothing on the floor, and all three girls were stripped to their garter belts and stockings. I pulled and twisted at the handcuffs, trying to free myself, to no avail. Bill and Todd had resumed their chairs as they ogled the nearly naked threesome.

"How about a little blow job for the next round? No cumming, not yet, anyway, but some nice oral action. Oh, and on someone else's man. okay?" Chrissy announced. Anna and Lena nodded meekly.

The other five people in the room, including Lena, already knew how much farther this would go. I didn't. I could only wait and watch, humiliated and heartbroken, and cling to the faint hope that whatever my wife and these others had planned, it wouldn't completely destroy our marriage. It was obvious that Lena was all in, whatever it was.

What was she thinking when she looked me in the eye and said she loved me, as she bound me to this chair? How could she even get the words out, knowing what was planned for me? She said I knew her better than anyone else ever had; it was one reason she loved me. Obviously I didn't know her as well as I thought I did. Never in a million years would I have thought her capable of this. Never. My dream of a bright future with the woman I loved was being ripped to shreds before my eyes, and she herself had cuffed me to this fucking chair so I couldn't do a thing about it. I could feel tears rolling down my cheeks. My wrists were raw from struggling against the cuffs.

Lena turned in her chair and looked at me. She had to have seen the tears on my face. She looked a little concerned, as if something wasn't going quite as she expected, but she squared her shoulders and turned her back on me without a word.

Anna lost first. She smiled slightly at me, as if to reassure me. She knelt between Bill's legs. His cock was already hard when she maneuvered it out of his pants. She sucked it for a few minutes, getting about half of it into her mouth. She stood, smiled at him, and resumed her seat at the table.

Somehow, I knew Lena would lose next. She did. Without a single glance at me, she knelt nearly naked between Todd's legs. Calmly, without any hesitation, my beloved wife undid another man's belt, lowered his zipper, and pulled out his semi-hard cock. She stroked him for a moment, then slowly let the head push her lips open, and disappear inside. It was as if she were foreshadowing the way tonight, a strange cock would push open her other lips, enter her core, and violate what she had sworn would be private to us.

When I was ten, my parents were killed in an auto accident. I had loved them dearly, and the pain of their loss was unbearable. When I couldn't take it any more, I would transport myself mentally to some remembered time and place, away from the horror of the present. I heard, felt, and saw only that memory, and sensed nothing of the hateful present. I could "go away" for several minutes at a time. It scared my grandparents badly, as my body was almost totally unresponsive while I was "away," so I avoided doing it around them. Nonetheless, it became my defense mechanism for bearing the unbearable.

Seeing Lena cradling Todd's balls in her hand and taking his dick in her mouth, while he caressed her hair with one hand and fondled a bare breast with the other, was unbearable. I went away. I wandered, unaware of the sordid scene around me, through other and better days. When I returned, Lena was sitting at the table, again with her back to me. Todd's cock projected, stiff and wet, from his open fly. My tears flowed again.

The girls didn't even bother with the pretense of the cards any more: the game was just an excuse, and it had been rigged anyway. Chrissy stood up, tall, beautiful, and nearly naked, smiling and rolling her hips seductively as she sauntered toward me. She knelt in front of me, lowered my zipper, and took out my cock. My twisting and straining to keep away from her was to no avail, though it seemed to amuse Chrissy. I could have kicked her away, I suppose, but even in that extremity, kicking a woman just wasn't something I could do. She scooped my balls out of my pants, caressing them as she took my limp cock into her mouth. I went away again, this time to our wedding. I saw Lena, dressed in white, walk down the aisle. She walked by herself, in memory of the father she had barely known. I gave her my vows, and heard her give hers to me. I stared into her beautiful face; she looked back at me, with all her love in her eyes. How I wanted to stay there! No such luck.

When I returned, my cock hung softly and forlornly out of my open fly. It seemed Chrissy hadn't been able to get me hard; she was sitting at the table looking upset. My jaws hurt from the gag, and my wrists bled from the handcuffs. I felt nauseous, but I was afraid if I threw up I'd suffocate myself because of the gag. Would these people I used to think of as friends - would my loving wife - release me then, I wondered? It was probably best not to find out. I swallowed my bile.

Lena looked clearly worried now: I guess something had gone wrong with the plan. Still, I was sure that however unhappy she looked, she would completely fulfill her part. I was also sure I knew what was next.

"Okay, guys, time for the fucking!" The words were barely out of Chrissy's mouth before Bill and Todd made a beeline for Lena. Bill snatched her out of her chair, standing her up and stuffing his tongue down her throat. Todd was behind her, squeezing her ass and forcing his knee between her legs, which opened easily. It was clear not only that this, too, had been planned, but that Bill and Todd couldn't wait to have at my wife, and she seemed as eager as they were. I left again.

I wasn't as successful staying away this time. Scattered images came through to me; they're with me to this day. Lena on all fours, Bill pounding away at her from behind, while she urged him on. Whatever unhappiness had temporarily shown on her face had been replaced by sheer lust. Lena and Anna on their backs next to each other, their legs in the air, as Bill went from one to the other, while Todd face fucked Chrissy and mauled her boobs. Lena on all fours again, spit-roasted by Todd in her mouth and Bill in her pussy. Lena bent over the dining room table, fucked from behind by Bill. Anna on her back on the table, Lena's face between her legs, while Todd pounded Chrissy into the floor. The soft but intense groans that told me Lena was climaxing. Finally, everything faded into grey nothingness.

It was quiet when I came back. My four "friends" and my "loving" wife were all tangled up on the floor. The smell of sex was thick in the room. The girls' stockings were laddered and ripped; their bodies were marked where they had been sucked and bitten. Todd and Bill looked sated, as well they should. Lena lay with her head on Bill's stomach next to his limp dick, while he idly caressed one of her breasts. She and Anna looked tired but well satisfied; Chrissy smirked.

I noticed my wrists were free and the gag was gone, though the nauseating rubbery taste remained. Lena's eyes met mine; her face assumed a worried expression, and she started to get up.

"No. Don't touch me." I strangled out the words just before I threw up. I covered my pants, the chair, and the floor. Slowly, unsteadily, I stood up. The others looked at me, staring as if I were a zombie. I could see that my wrists bled, and my hands were swollen, but I couldn't feel them. I felt nothing; black sickness and horror were all I knew.

"Uh, Lena, you might have a problem," someone said.

A male voice answered her: "Thank you, Captain Obvious!" I heard laughter. I turned and walked to the door. I don't know how I managed to put one foot in front of the other, but I did. I heard Lena's voice behind me.

"Jason, please don't go. Come back and sit down. I'll bandage your wrists, and we can all talk through this."

I kept walking. Out the door, into the fresh air, away from the scene I will never forget. "The abomination of desolation," something said in my mind. Yes, I thought, now I know what that means. I've seen it. My wrists began to hurt, where I scraped them raw trying to escape the chair where my wife bound me to witness the destruction of my marriage. I remember thinking the pain was good. At least I was feeling something.

I don't remember driving home. I didn't know how or when Lena came home. For all I knew, she stayed for another round of fucking. I remember her kneeling over me, touching my shoulder as I lay on the floor. I cringed away from her as if there were poison in her touch. She cried a little, and walked away.

I remember waking up on the floor. It must have been Saturday morning, though I couldn't have told you so then. I remember smelling the breakfast that Lena made for me, and at the first whiff dashing to the bathroom to puke. There wasn't anything left to throw up, but that didn't stop me. I dry heaved until I passed out.

I remember coming to, curled up in the fetal position on the bathroom floor, with someone shining a light in my eyes, I guessed either a doctor or an EMT. I wondered if this was what a mental breakdown felt like. They must have given me something to make me sleep, because I don't remember anything of the rest of the day.

Sunday morning I felt more like myself. My wrists were still raw, though, and there was blood from them on the sheets.

There was no point even thinking about Lena or our marriage any more. That was finished. Done. Shot through the heart until it was dead, then shot some more. The divorce would be uncomplicated. I got out of bed, showered, and dressed. The vomit-drenched pants from Friday night were nowhere to be found, thank goodness. I fired up my iPad and started looking for a place to live.

Lena entered the room, softly and tentatively.

"Are you awake? Can you talk now?" she asked.

I just looked at her as if she were someone I didn't know, which was about how I felt, then turned my attention back to my iPad.

"Jason, this was just a terrible mistake. We... I... thought you would get into it..." She ground to a halt as the man who only two days ago would have hung on her slightest word, turned his back on her tearful pleas. As she had turned her back on his Friday night. She fled the room in tears. I felt nothing.

Friday. Bleccch.

Lena stayed out of my way as I packed what I would need for a week. She tried to talk to me as I walked out the door, but I ignored her. There was nothing she could say that would make any difference, and I couldn't think of anything to say to her at all, not even good bye. I opened my car door to receive a rude shock: the smell of puke, intensified by 36 hours in a closed car. Somehow, that was the last straw: the symbol, perhaps, of my totally ruined life. Some people's lives turn to shit. Mine turned to puke. Not much difference, really. I sank to the garage floor and bawled. I cried like a baby for what seemed like hours, then just sat there, alone with my tears and the smell of my own vomit. Neither Lena nor anyone else came to my aid. I was completely alone, completely desolate.

Life went on. Friday came again. My wrists and hands had mostly healed, my car was cleaned (I paid top dollar for the job, but the poor guy deserved every penny), I had found and moved into a studio apartment, and I had actually put in a reasonably productive week of work. Work helped, I think. I'm a programmer, but now I mostly do code reviews, which require intense concentration. It didn't leave room in my mind for anything else, and by the time I got back to my place and had the chores done, I was too tired for personal thoughts, except one.

Friday. Bleccch.

I wasn't taking Lena's calls, so of course she had left messages and texts. She loved me, she needed me, please come home, we needed to talk, this was just a mistake, they really hadn't meant to hurt me, she knew we could get past this, and on and on. None of it mattered. I knew that the images of her cuffing me to a chair while saying she loved me, turning her back on me as I cried, and stripping and sucking and fucking our marriage away, would be with me the rest of my life. I still don't know how it's possible for a person to feel complete numbness and intense pain at the same time. All I know is, I did.

I pondered my future. A hundred years ago, or two, there were things a man could do with a broken heart: strenuous and dangerous things to get his mind off his troubles. He could, for instance, go out west and shoot grizzlies, or join the French Foreign Legion. Of course, now it's illegal to shoot grizzlies most places, and the French Foreign Legion has never been the same since Abbott and Costello got through with it. (Great movie, by the way.) I don't think they take Americans any more, anyway. Somehow, sitting in a cubicle finding mistakes in someone else's code just wasn't the same.

Saturday morning, Anna called me. She begged me not to hang up; she wanted to meet me to apologize for her part in last Friday night. Well, I said, I was sorry, too. Then she said that she and Todd had broken up over what happened, and she needed to talk with someone, and I was the only one who might understand. Reluctantly, I agreed to meet her at her local Moon-bucks and listen to her. I bought the foofy coffee she wanted and a real one for me, and she began. She apologized again for her part in the previous Friday night.

"Jason, have you heard of a movie called 'Dangerous Liaisons'?"

"No, what does that have to do with this?"

"It's about this French guy, Valmont, who is a real player, but he's not just about the sex. He uses sex to humiliate and dominate, and he especially loves taking naïve or innocent women. He doesn't just screw them, he breaks them, he takes or ruins everything they value, and then he drops them. He has a sort of partner, not a wife or lover, a woman who's just as cruel as he is.

"Jason, that's exactly who Chrissy and Bill are. It's what they do; it's how they get off. I didn't realize it until I saw the movie on late night cable one night. They might as well have put Chrissy and Bill's names in it. I don't know if they saw the movie and it sounded cool, or if they're just twisted that way naturally, but it's them to the life.