Just Once… Damaging Choices!

I asked Vincent to give you this letter and offer to drive you to our house. You could go immediately with him, collecting anything left at the hotel later. When you enter our house, you will find a collar just inside the front door. You might put it on and snap the lock in place, which might remain locked for just the next six weeks. You could remove all of your clothes and remain standing there in the foyer awaiting further instructions, which you should follow without question! This might be your station for the next six-weeks every time you enter our house, which should be every day after you return from your nursing job at the hospital, immediately at the end of every shift! And you might even choose to say the safe word "divorce" to stop this at any time.

Or... you may even now choose to go to the hotel room you've book,... but without me.

The way I see it, if you and I still love one another, we might get past this...

IF I see you as suggested immediately after your return,

IF "he" remains no more than just a memory to you,

AND after six more weeks!

If we don't get past this, it will hurt, and I will mourn what you and I had and lost. But I can't see us being married and not doing what we now need to get past this, together.

You made your plans and your choices. The choice of who now fully pays for it is also up to you. You have some instructions listed above if you choose to be the one to accept consequences for your choices, and I would be there with you every day.

If you choose to NOT pay for your decision to sleep and wake each day for the past six-weeks in your lover's arms as he chose to silently laugh at me, you would then be making the alternative choice for me (and probably your lover) to pay for it without you. What I do with him after you divorce me... well, that won't be your choice then, will it?

Vincent gave you this letter and he should have texted me when you opened it. He should text again with your next choice ten minutes later. And I know how long it will take him to drive you to our house!

Know this, Marcy Weston. You have been and still are the love of my life. Even after you inflicted this six-weeks of torment, I still love you. It has been a privilege being your husband and father of your children. But after all these years, we obviously need a new "us."

I'll leave you with one thought, Marcy:

"I loved you and set you free to become a "new you". Now, do you really want to return to this version of the new me you chose to create?"

Love you always and forever,

Rick

P.S. Please don't come immediately to the house with no intention of following my instructions. Please don't make a scene or try calling to negotiate. Either take me back as I am or walk away.

Make your choice quickly, because lacking the next text message means I won't be here when you arrive. As you departed six weeks ago without a word, so will I remain packed for six weeks and ready to make a similar choice.

***

I set the collar with its lock on the table beside the front door, then walked up the stairs to the master bedroom, that room we sometimes lovingly shared over the years. The new tethers fastened to the sides of the bed frame were positioned right where I would need them in the future. The cuffs, paddles, and other toys were neatly lined up on the dresser.

Looking at the closet, the large suitcase stood packed at the ready as the contingency plan. There was a clipboard with the final draft of the divorce settlement lying on top of the suitcase.

Then I turned, walking back out the door, pulling a small chain across the door and hooking it on the screw eye in the other side of the door frame, the sign saying, "Off Limits -- for now".

Descending the two flights of stairs into the basement, I looked at the Saint Andrew's cross leaning against the far wall, with its cuffs dangling from the ends. The padded leather bench in the center of the room stood firmly about waist high. And another assortment of sex toys, including a ball-gag and cat o' nine tails were placed at the ready on a side table.

It may be interesting to hear the kids' reactions if they find all of this, if within the next few minutes, I need to just collect my suitcase and leave.

Glancing at my cell phone, I looked at the text message; "She opened it."

That was sent five minutes ago, and she's not a slow reader. So, the ball's in her court. Another five minutes and she'll make another choice...

***

Epilogue 1: Disciplined (a sick ending for those of you with a disturbed mind)

Just over one year later, I walked in the front door of our home after work. Entering the kitchen, I found my gorgeous wife standing at the counter, naked as always, but wearing an apron as she fixed dinner. Besides the apron, she wore the collar, the long chain attached to a bolt in the floor between the counter and the nearby powder room.

That first night when Vincent dropped her off at our house began our journey of rebuilding trust... in our marriage and in each other. At one point, Marcy did use the safe word; "Divorce" when I got carried away hearing some of her details of her tryst. But when staring at the papers I handed her, the tears came, she dropped the papers, and put the collar back on.

After the next peak of my anger, I learned I no longer need to be so angry with her. She willingly crawled back into her cage on her own.

I had already planned a particularly painful lesson for her doctor-boyfriend after organizing the right resources via the Dark Web. Let's just say he and any future wife no longer need family planning or birth control.

I walked up behind my gorgeous, naked wife at the counter, saying softly in a loving voice, "Assume the position." Now, if I could only get her to start talking to me again.

Ending 1

***

Epilogue 2: Cucked (Alternate Ending, a simple type some of you predict and might relate)

Just over one year later, I again held the large envelope from the lawyer I received a few months ago, a constant reminder of the past. Pulling out the approximately 20-page document, I felt the raised seal on the back page, the notary stamp on the final court decree.

Not one to take responsibilities for her own choices, Marcy ignored Vincent's offered ride to our house. Thus, I didn't receive that second text. She went to her room to collect her luggage and caught an Uber to the house. Vincent called me fifteen minutes after the first text to say Marcy declined his ride and would find her own way home. She wasn't in the mood to listen to his warning that might not work out as well.

It was only five minutes later when I placed the clipboard with the divorce settlement draft on the bed and walked out with my suitcase. By the time Marcy walked into the house, she was living there alone.

Marcy made her next decision to accept the divorce, and she married her doctor boyfriend. She moved him into the house we shared before this all happened, after she bought me out of my half. It was a fair deal and an even split of everything we had together.

After I called Leslie over and we shared a bottle of wine, I explained to her how we were both used by Marcy as animals. Leslie wanted nothing else to do with me after that, and she stormed out of the house that evening. She said she just couldn't envision herself now with me, seeing me as some kind of dog.

I called Diedre to try getting together with her, but she wasn't as accommodating when she found out what I've been through. She felt I dissed her in Iraq by ignoring her advances. She even said on the phone in a very insulting tone, "How's my poor little cuckhold feeling now? Does he feel like sucking shit out of my ass? Or does he want to be pegged by my new boyfriend?"

I met up with Marcy's doctor-boyfriend at a bar shortly before they married. After a few drinks and listening to him brag about banging my wife to his bachelor party friends, I lost it and swung a beer bottle at his head. How was I to know he was a martial arts instructor? The police said he acted in self-defense. But my stiches are healing. I just lost my security clearance over it, and now I'm looking for an apartment I can afford with just my half of my military retirement. I cash my unemployment checks at the local liquor store, at least while they last.

I think of that line from 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy': "The best laid plans of mice!"

Ending 2

***

Epilogue 3: Irreconcilable Differences (another Alternate Ending, merely growing apart)

Just over one year later, I opened the large envelope from the lawyer. Pulling out the approximately 20-page document, I felt the raised seal on the back page, the notary stamp on the final court decree.

Marcy declined the ride to our house and I left the divorce papers on the bed when I left. She found them a few days later when she finally returned to the empty house.

It was an amicable divorce, with all of our assets divided and we went our separate ways. We don't see each other anymore, with the kids carefully scheduling their contacts with either of us to avoid any potential contacts. Sometimes I might get an invitation from one of the kids to spend Thanksgiving with them and other years it might be a birthday or Christmas. But not always, and Marcy's never there if I'm visiting one of them.

It's a strange situation. But it works for us.

A common End 3.

***

Epilogue 4: BTB (another simple Ending many of you probably like)

Just over one year later, I opened the large envelope from the lawyer. Pulling out the approximately 20-page document, I felt the raised seal on the back page, the notary stamp on the final court decree.

Not one to take responsibilities for her own choices, Marcy ignored Vincent's offered ride to our house. Thus, I didn't receive that second text. She went to her room to collect her luggage and caught an Uber to the house. Vincent called me fifteen minutes after the first text to say Marcy declined his ride and would find her own way home. She wasn't in the mood to listen to his warning that might not work out as well.

It was only five minutes later when I placed the clipboard with the divorce settlement draft on the bed and walked out with my suitcase. By the time Marcy walked into the house, she was living there alone.

Marcy made her next bad decision in fighting the divorce and getting her attorney to insist on a court hearing. She wanted to retain the "family home" and thought she was entitled to the difference between my higher salary and hers. My lawyer questioned me during that family court hearing about how I found her in her lover's room. That outed her friend and co-worker Penny Washington's affair to her husband. The ripple effect among other doctors and nurses on that trip made Marcy an outcast in the nursing community. Of course, she had to sell the house, both because it was part of the divorce settlement and due to the neighbors ostracizing her, wanting to keep her away from their husbands. The neighbor directly behind the house, Leslie, now understood what Marcy thought of her, so even the swingers were no longer friendly. And our kids heard Marcy's letter to me read to the court when it was entered as evidence. They seemed to understand how my mind could go into such a dark place as to build the dungeon.

For some odd reason, her doctor-boyfriend got into a bar fight and suffered a few injuries, one of which was a broken hand. I randomly encountered him after that when he smugly mentioned how he fucked my wife for those six weeks. I said "I notice your hand is bandaged. Too bad I was in Barbados when it happened. I would have liked to see what you can buy on the Dark Web." It seems doctors don't learn the variety of lessons those of us in the Intelligence Community find.

I do miss my gorgeous wife. And I lament how things might have been different if she had been more honest and communicated her needs with me, instead of secretly conspiring to cheat. We might have enjoyed a swinging lifestyle together.

Now I'm open to contentedly exploring new options with new female friends, and not constantly wondering what schemes they're hatching... or at least I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. But my new relationship motto is, "Trust, but verify!"

It's just tough finding a woman at this age who is willing to give me access to her cellphone.

Ending 4

***

Epilogue 5: RAAC (one more Alternate Ending, my favorite)

Just over one year later, I walked in the front door of our home after work. Entering the kitchen, I found my gorgeous wife standing at the counter, already naked after work, but wearing an apron as she fixed dinner. Besides the apron, she wore a neckless, one of her now favored close-neck, choker-style types she started collecting over the past year.

That first night when Vincent dropped her off at our house began our journey of rebuilding trust... in our marriage and in each other. I took my turn wearing a collar during those next six weeks, and Marcy vented her years of pent-up frustrations on me. At one point, Marcy did use the safe word; "Divorce" when I got carried away hearing some of her details of her tryst. But when staring at the papers I handed her, the tears came, she dropped the papers, and put the collar back on. Since that peak of my anger, I've learned I'll never again be so angry with her.

I had already planned a particularly painful lesson for her doctor-boyfriend after organizing the right resources via the Dark Web. But when she put that collar back on the second time, I realized he's not worth the risk. Besides, it wasn't long after they returned the hospital fired him over other sexual harassment complaints. So, he was gone from our area and Marcy's life by the time my lesson was about to start.

I walked up behind her, wrapping my arms around her to pull her close and kissed her neck.

"Mmmm," she cooed as she leaned her head back into my shoulder giving me better access. "Vinnie and Leslie will be here for dinner in another half hour. He asked if he can be on the cross later."

"We could just have a nice dinner and send them home," I said. "Make it an evening for just the two of us. And you know you don't need to be naked or wear a collar."

"I like not having to wear clothes," she replied cheerfully. "The clothes bore me, and I'm proud of ME! And it's more comfortable now that it's my choice. The neckless... I see this as a sign of trusting you.... Vinnie said that Leslie wants you to fuck her mouth as he's tied to the cross to watch, while I play with her. I enjoy exploring her young body and think that will be kind of hot! So, if you're up for it... Go take a shower!"

The End.

Written by permission of Kalimaxos.

*****

Author's Postscript: Some of you might think this story should be posted in the BDSM category. But there is no description of actual BDSM taking place in this story... just hints of it. This is the type of BTB or RAAC story I've come to believe the majority of you want to read in Loving Wives. So, choose the best ending and rate the story accordingly by clicking the appropriate rating Star 1 thru 5 for your preferred ending.

If you comment, let me know which ending you preferred.