Love Dies

Love Dies...

The Saddletramp version of LovingF's "Love Grows Pt. 2 Stuart's Cucking"

I would like to start by thanking LovingF for graciously giving me permission to write this. While I enjoyed his story, "Love Grows Pt. 02 Stuart's Cucking," I felt it needed to be fleshed out somewhat, and I also felt the conspirators in this tale needed to feel a dose of what I call the "Saddletramp Treatment."

Reading the original, I got the impression it was set in the UK. This version takes place in the US.

Also, many thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories, and to those who have reached out to me via email. Thank you all very much.

And now, the disclaimers:

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... In addition:

1. Characters in this story may participate in one or more of the following: Smoking, consumption of adult (meaning, alcoholic) beverages, utterance of profanities.
2. All sexual activity is between consenting adults 18 years of age or older.
3. Statements or views uttered by the fictional characters in this story do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of the author.

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

...

Call it a gut instinct, if you will, but that day when I pulled into the driveway, I felt something was just not quite right. I turned the car off, got out, and went inside the house, almost expecting to be swallowed by a giant black hole suddenly appearing underneath my feet. The house smelled... wrong... somehow.

I set my briefcase down and was met by Niki, my wife of six years. I was startled to see my next-door neighbor, Ben Alexander, standing with her with a shit-eating smirk.

"Uh, Stu," Niki began. That's me, by the way. Stuart Johnstone, "Stu" to my friends and family. For the last several years, that included Niki, but as I was about to learn, that would no longer be the case.

"Yes, Niki," I urged. "What's going on? And why is Ben here?"

"Go on. Tell him," Ben urged.

"Tell me what?" I asked.

"I've been fucking your wife in your bed all afternoon," Ben blurted, the smirk on his face growing wider.

"Is that right, Niki?" I asked.

"Um, yeah," Niki replied. Then she smiled at Ben, which apparently provided her second wind and courage. It was bad enough that she was screwing this dickhead, but the expression of love she gave him was like a punch to the gut. I wanted to strangle them both right there in my living room. Then Niki turned to me and delivered the coup de grace.

"Stu... Darling," she began. I cut her off. They both looked at me, surprised.

"First off, Niki, you may no longer call me darling, Stu, love, sweetie, or anything other than Stuart or Mr. Johnstone. Please, continue."

"Uh, okay, uh, Stuart. I just wanted to let you know that from now on, I'm putting Ben over you in our relationship..." I cut her off again.

"Since you've been fucking shit-for-brains here all afternoon, we no longer have a relationship. And the fact that you've been fucking him in our marital bed proves you've put him over me," I told her. Ben started to get red in the face.

"Uh, okay," Niki said nervously. "Well, Ben said that from now on, you are no longer allowed to fuck me, and everything I do will be to please him. That's the way it has to be."

"You presume a great deal, Niki. Do you honestly think I would even want to touch you after you've been fucking him? Not no, but hell no." Niki recoiled in shock after that announcement but recovered quickly.

"Ben says that from now on, he'll be fucking me here, in our bed, and you can stay in the guest room," Niki stated. I looked at Ben and saw his smirk grow wider, and I looked back at Niki.

"Again, you're wrong about that, Niki. You forget, this is MY house. I inherited it from my grandparents. Which makes you a tenant, only. If you insist on this, then you will have to leave."

"What? I'm not leaving!"

"Yeah," Ben chimed in.

"Shut the fuck up, both of you. My name is the only one on the deed. Ben has his own place, right next door. You want to fuck him, you do it over there. I'll be gracious, though. I'll give you just one half-hour to get your crap out of MY house. Whatever is left over goes on my burn pile out back."

"Are you serious?" Niki asked, shocked.

"As a stroke. Time's wasting. You'd better get moving. In 30 minutes, whatever is left over will get torched. You'd better help her," I told Ben. Wide-eyed, they looked at each other for a few moments, then raced upstairs to gather what they could.

I set the timer on my phone for 30 minutes, grabbed a beer, and watched as they raced between the two houses with Niki's things. They were at the front door, arms loaded with Niki's crap when my timer went off.

"Time's up. That's it."

"But... but," Niki began.

"But nothing," I stated. "You had 30 minutes. Your time is up. Now go, and don't ever darken my doorway again. You'll be hearing from my attorney."

"You can't mean that," Niki said.

"Oh, but I do mean it. Now, go."

"This isn't over, asshole," Ben snarled.

"That sounds like a threat," I replied.

"Take it any way you want. But this is far from over," Ben hissed before the two left. I closed and locked the door, sat on the couch, and took a deep breath. Then I began to plan. A friend of mine, Eric Stutzman, was a private investigator with a local firm. He served with the local police department until he was severely injured on a call. I decided to call him first.

"Stutzman," he said when he answered the phone.

"Eric, Ben Johnstone here. I need a big favor right now. Don't worry, I'll pay you."

"What's up, Ben?" Eric asked. He listened intently as I explained the situation. "Yeah, that's really fucked up," he said. "Tell you what, I'll come over and we'll wire the place up. If they try anything, we'll have them dead to rights. Have you called a locksmith yet?"

"No, I haven't."

"Call one, right now. Have them replace all of the outside locks. You may also want to change the code on your garage door opener. Pull her car out first, though. Give me about an hour to get a crew and some things together, okay?"

"Thanks, Eric. I appreciate that," I told him. We ended the call, and I contacted a locksmith I knew. He agreed to come out and replace the locks.

"I'll be there in a half hour," he said.

"Thanks," I told him before ending the call. I wolfed down a sandwich and had just finished when the locksmith arrived. As he worked, I went online and did what I could to protect myself financially. I moved most of our money to an account I had before we got married - one I knew Niki didn't have access to. I also paid off and canceled our joint credit cards.

Then I went upstairs and started grabbing the stuff Niki left behind - clothes, trinkets she just HAD to have, even the expensive Vera Wang wedding dress she wore the day we married, and our wedding album. I carried it all outside and tossed it on the burn pile at the back of my property. Grabbing a can of lighter fluid, I soaked it all down, then threw a lit match and watched it all go up in flames.

I looked at Ben's house and saw Niki looking out of an upstairs window. Her eyes grew wide as she watched her beautiful wedding dress and pictures go up in flames. I flipped her a finger and stood back, watching it all burn to ashes. I admit it was a juvenile move, but it felt good.

Eric showed up with a couple other men just as the locksmith finished. He supervised the installation of the cameras and microphones. I knew Niki and Ben could see the activity at my house, but they didn't know what was happening inside. Frankly, I didn't care if they could see.

While they were working, I pulled Niki's car out of the garage and parked it in Ben's driveway. Niki came running out of Ben's house red-faced.

"What are you doing?" she screeched.

"I'm exorcising you from my house. And my life," I told her. "Here's your extra car key. I have no need of it," I said, tossing the key at her. "Nor of this," I added, throwing my wedding ring at her.

"But my wedding dress..."

"What did you expect? Did you think I was just going to take your betrayal sitting down? Fuck you."

"What are those guys doing in the house?"

"None of your fucking business," I snarled before going back inside. Eric met me inside the house.

"Everything is set up. We've got the whole property covered, inside and out. I've also set up surveillance on your phone. Whatever is captured will go to a unit we have in the attic, and will also be stored on the cloud. Here's what you need to access that," Eric said, handing me a sheet of paper with a web address and credentials.

"Thanks," I said.

"I'll also do a check on this Ben Jackson fellow, see what I can find, and I'll keep an eye on your wife as well. Remember, don't do anything on your own. If need be, call 911, then call me. If you haven't retained an attorney yet, I suggest you do so, quickly. Got it?"

"I got it, Eric. And thanks again."

"No problem. I've been there myself, you know." I remembered his anguish over 10 years ago when he caught his wife cheating on him at a sleazy club. I wrote a check for his services and thanked the others with him.

Eric and his crew left, so I locked the doors, set the alarm, and sat down on the couch with a beer, trying to make sense of all this. Had I done something to set Niki off? I'm a building inspector for the city, so it's not like I have to travel out of town. I'm home every day, and other than the odd round of golf on the weekends, I don't go out without Niki.

I finally decided that none of it mattered - not anymore. She had betrayed me in the worst way someone could possibly betray a spouse. Yes, she had to pay the price. Fortunately for me, Dad had insisted we sign a prenuptial to protect my inheritance and the house I received from my grandparents when they died. His first wife cheated on him, and he detested cheaters.

The prenuptial included a harsh clause for infidelity, stating that the guilty party would walk out of the marriage only with what they brought, their personal items, and the clothes on their back. Niki would get a check for $253.18 and her car, which she bought before we were married. The money was what she had in her account when we got married.

Although Dad is a lawyer - and a damn good one - he doesn't specialize in family law. But I knew he could direct me to the best in the business, so I called him.

"Shit," Dad exclaimed after I told him what had happened. "Damn good thing you signed that prenup. Tell you what, let me call some friends of mine. We'll take care of this. You just relax and don't do anything stupid. You hear me, boy? I don't want to have to bail you outta jail."

"No worries, Dad. I got it under control," I told him.

"Good. If you need anything - anything at all, you call me. You hear?"

"I will, Dad. And... thanks. For everything," I said.

"You're welcome, son. And remember, I love you, and I'm damn proud of you." It meant a lot hearing him tell me that. I echoed the sentiment, and we ended the call. I slept in the guest bedroom that night, not wanting to touch the bed where Niki and Ben had done the dirty.

The following day, I made arrangements to replace the bed and have the old one hauled off. I didn't care what they did with it. They could burn it for all I cared.

The proverbial shit hit the fan two days later. True to his word, Dad put me in touch with the meanest divorce lawyer he could find - Lisa Hawkins. She was easy on the eyes and quite friendly - almost flirty. But she hates cheaters with a passion and lives to burn them to the ground every chance she gets.

She reviewed all the paperwork I gave her and drew up divorce papers based on the prenuptial between Niki and me. According to the filing, Niki would only leave the marriage with her car, clothes, and a check for $253.18. There would be no support or maintenance. Lisa told me that she would also file a protection order against Niki, which would require her to move out of Ben's house.

Since I live in one of the few states that still allow for alienation of affection lawsuits, Lisa filed against Ben Jackson. Still, she warned me that it might not produce anything. Eric learned from his investigation that Ben was having severe financial problems, his mortgage was underwater, and he faced possible foreclosure.

Niki had thankfully stayed out of my way over those two days, no doubt getting fucked every minute that Ben was home. I really didn't care. I drove down my street, noticing the cars parked along the curb and in Ben's driveway. Perhaps, I thought, they were having a party...

I pulled into my garage and got the same strange feeling I had the day Niki laid her bombshell on me. I shook it off and went into the house, where I got the shock of my life. There, in all his glory, was Ben. Niki stood next to him, and I saw several other people in the house.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the cuck of the hour," Ben smirked.

"What the fuck," I began before feeling a prick in my neck. Before I could do or say anything, though, I passed out.

And woke up tied, gagged, and bound to a hard wooden chair on the back deck. I was naked, except for a strange contraption stuck on my cock. Niki and Ben stood not far from me, both naked. Another woman stood in front of them while others gathered around. I realized what was happening.

This was to be their "coming out" party, which apparently included mock nuptials. They even had someone with a video camera recording the event. None of them knew I also had a video of what was happening. The woman standing in front of Niki spoke.

"And who gives this woman to be fucked?"

"He does," Niki said, pointing at me.

"Very well. Do you, Niki Johnstone, hereby reject all of your legal husband's rights to become one with this man, Ben Jackson? Do you freely give yourself to be Ben's slut? To fuck him and whomever he says? And do you accept this man's dominance over your body and soul for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do!" Niki declared.

"And do you, Benjamin Jackson, take this woman to be your slut, to fuck anytime, anywhere, and any way you wish for all the days of your life?"

"Fuck yeah," Ben snarled. He slipped a ring on Niki's finger while she did the same to him.

"Very well. I pronounce you fuck-buddies. You may now fuck your slut," the woman said. Ben took Niki in his arms and kissed her deeply as he fingered her bare, shaved pussy. Niki responded by taking Ben's cock in her hands. She stroked it until it was completely erect, then wrapped her legs around him and impaled herself on him.

The others applauded loudly as the lewd display went on. After Ben ejaculated inside her, he motioned to the other men, who took turns fucking Niki.

"And what of the discarded husband?" the woman asked. Ben looked at me with a smirk, then walked over. He stroked himself a couple of times, and at first, I thought he would force me to suck his cock. But he didn't.

Instead, he urinated on me, laughing. The others, Niki included, laughed with him. Ben motioned for the other men to join him, which they did. After each urinated on me, Niki walked over and did the same after rubbing the men's semen on my face. I nearly threw up as all of this was happening. Try as I might, I couldn't break free of my bonds, but I could feel them loosening up.

"Clean him up. He stinks," Niki snarled after she finished. Ben smirked as he untied me from the chair. Unfortunately, my hands and feet were still bound, but the ropes were reasonably loose, and I thought I could get out of them if I only had another minute or two. Three other men joined Ben after he finished.

They picked me up and tossed me, still bound, into the deep end of the pool as the others laughed maniacally. I thought I was going to drown and thrashed around in the water, trying to work my bonds loose. I still had the gag in my mouth, and I nearly succumbed. Suddenly, the ropes holding my wrists became loose, and I could move my arms.

I somehow managed to get to the pool's shallow end, where I could stand. I pulled the gag out of my mouth and took a deep breath. Looking around, I saw Ben, Niki, and the others gathered in one corner of my backyard. Her legs were spread, and the men were taking turns pounding her cunt and mouth. They didn't even know I existed, which suited me just fine.

I quickly removed the ropes from my ankles and rushed into the house. Except for the cock cage, I was still naked, and no one saw me as they focused on the gang bang in my backyard. Rushing upstairs, I called 911.

"Please, they broke into my house and tried to kill me. I got loose, but I know they'll finish the job if they find me. Please, hurry," I shouted. The dispatcher got my information and said she sent cruisers to my house immediately.

My subsequent calls were to Dad, Eric, and Lisa - in that order. By the time I got off the phone with Lisa, four police cruisers with lights flashing had pulled up in front of our house. Looking out the window, I saw three officers going into the backyard. I heard a knock at the door and realized the others expected someone to let them in.

I threw on a robe and went downstairs to open the door. Three officers came in, and I explained what had happened. One officer took a look at the cock cage and went back to his cruiser. He returned a few moments later with a pair of bolt cutters and removed the device, placing it into an evidence bag.

"I have video of what happened here," I told a sergeant who seemed to be the man in charge.

"Let's see it," he said. I booted my laptop, entered Eric's credentials, and we all watched the video. It was clear from the video that Ben had broken a window in the back of the house so he could let the others enter. The video showed everything that happened from that point on.

"You want a copy of this?" I asked.

"Yes, please," the sergeant directed. I made a copy as the perpetrators were frog-marched into the house, their hands cuffed behind their backs.

"Look, man, this was just a practical joke," Ben protested. "We didn't mean anything by it." The officers were professional and quietly took them away after charging them with several crimes, including breaking and entering, kidnapping, illegal restraint, illegal administration of a controlled substance, assault, sexual assault, conspiracy, and attempted murder. The murder charge stemmed from the men throwing me in the pool while bound.

The sergeant suggested I get checked out at the Emergency Room and called an ambulance. Dad had arrived by then and followed the ambulance to the hospital. They took samples of my blood, then started an IV.

"You got lucky, son," Dad said. "They could've killed you. Any idea what this was all about?" he asked Eric, who had joined us at the hospital.

"Money," Eric said. "Jackson is having significant financial issues, and he's facing foreclosure. Somehow, probably from Niki, he learned of your son's inheritance, and figured he could get his hands on it if he could get Stu to divorce her."

"Niki knew about this?" I asked.

"I don't think she knew all of Jackson's intent, but she knew enough. She certainly knew what was going to happen tonight," Eric said. Lisa entered the room, followed by another man, who introduced himself as Detective Stanford.