Michelle, Ma Melle

"He was taking pictures of Florence and me. I have no idea how many. I jumped up and quickly pulled my suit back on. I gathered from the conversation between George and Florence that they were lovers and he stopped by her place a few times a week. About ten days later I found an envelope taped to the front door when I got home. When I opened it, there were several pictures of me naked, with Florence's face in my pussy."

Michelle had tears streaming down her cheeks and her voice was cracking. I could see why she had to let it out. It was eating her up, like some kind of poison. I had never dreamed anything like this was going on. I had made an assumption and acted on it, almost ruining Michelle's life. If I had simply demanded she tell me what was going on, I could have prevented much of her pain and suffering. I felt ill.

"A few days later, George called and told me that he would give me the pictures back if I agreed to have sex with him one weekend. Eric, I was ashamed and scared that I would lose you and the girls if those pictures got out, so I agreed."

Michelle broke down and cried. I moved next to her and held her in my arms until she was able to continue. I couldn't look in her eyes as I listened to the rest of the story.

"I agreed to let him come over and have sex with me on the Friday and Saturday you were scheduled to go to Cleveland. You kept telling me to get theater tickets and he kept calling and telling me you were going away for the weekend. I prayed that you would stay home and take me to the theater, though I knew he was your boss and you wouldn't risk losing your job," Michelle sniffled.

"He was upset because you told his wife about the tickets so he had to go to the theater that night. I was so relieved! I wasn't as lucky the next night. He was horrible. He made me do things, things I don't even do for you and I love you so much," wailed Michelle. "Then he sodomized me and wouldn't stop, no matter how much I begged, cried, and threatened. Looking back, I think he expected me to enjoy it, if you can believe that."

"I spent most of the night trying to stop the bleeding, but I couldn't, Eric. It just kept flowing out of me. By morning I knew I had to the hospital or I might bleed to death. I put the sheets into a garbage bag and tossed them in a dumpster just down the road by the church. Then I called Helen Barnes and asked her to take me to the hospital. I was pretty weak by then and don't remember much more until you and the girls came into the room."

There it was. Michelle had been wronged by three people; Florence, George, and worst of all, by me. I lacked faith in her and allowed, encouraged really, her sodomizing. My mind reeled. I ran for the bathroom and vomited.

When I cleaned up and reentered the room, Michelle was looking at me in fear. She probably thought her revelations had made me ill!

"Do you hate me now, Eric? Are we finished? You must despise me. I despise myself!" she sobbed.

I reached down, gripped her arms and picked her up from the sofa and crushed her to my chest. When she finally stopped sobbing I spoke.

"Michelle, you should have told me what was happening. It seems that I'm not everything a husband should be if you were afraid to reveal this terrible situation to me. I could have kept you from being hurt. That is a husband's job, and I have let you down, big time. I am glad you finally told me what is troubling you," I admitted. "Now we can start to make it better."

"You mean you will keep me, Eric? You won't divorce me?" Michelle sobbed.

"Quite the opposite, Darling. I am going to hold you closer and spend more time with you. Your mistake was to yield to blackmail. It was a bad decision, but I think I can understand your thinking at the time. That never, never works, but so many people still do it," I allowed.

"Truth is the simple cure for blackmail. It may be difficult to do, but it is so simple. We both need to work on being more honest with each other," I admitted. "If we can't depend on each other, we have no one."

"Eric, I was so stupid. It is obvious now, but I couldn't see it then. My problem isn't over, either. That prick told me he had printed some pictures for me, but he still had the memory card and had downloaded everything to his computer. He can still make my life hell. How will you ever be able to work for him again, Eric?" asked Michelle.

"Again, the answer is simple," I told Michelle. "I can't. The question is how can I keep from ripping his fucking heart out? Why haven't I done that already? I seem to be too clever, too devious for my own good. There is much to be said for the direct approach. I will never work with that man after tomorrow. I promise you that. There are other jobs and we have some savings. I feel liberated, actually. Let's have a cup of coffee and decide what we are going to do."

Michelle took my hand and walked into the kitchen with me. I considered telling her my part in the tragedy, but decided against it. She needed to believe I was her pillar, her rock. I had to give her that appearance of strength. The truth would have torn us apart. Of that I was certain.

The next day I hung around the promotion department, acting impatient. The truth was I had no intention of making the senseless trip to Allentown, so it mattered little how long the creative minds in that department took. It also kept me away from that bastard, George.

It was just after five when I loaded a bunch of shit in the trunk of my car and headed for the turnpike, for a mile. Then I went home and had a nice dinner with Michelle and the girls, before they left for a football game. I explained that I had errands to run and would join them latter.

I went back to the office building and let myself in. I really didn't care if I ran into any custodians. I went to George's office and let myself in with the key I had 'borrowed' a couple weeks earlier. It only took a couple minutes to remove the hard drive from his computer. A small pry-bar gave me access to his desk drawers. I found a cache of memory cards and took all of them. I even removed the one from his camera. Then I found the little tapes that go into George's hidden recorder. I took all of them. I looked everything over calmly and decided I had missed nothing. I locked his door when I left and drove to the high school in time to join Michelle and watch the girls perform with the band at halftime. On the way home, I stopped and tossed everything from George's office into the Susquehanna River. Michelle helped me. The girls went to school dance after the game and weren't with us.

I spent the weekend doing things with Michelle and the girls. My career was in tatters, but my home life was finally starting to look up. My determination to be a better husband and father made me happier and consequently, made my family happier. It occurred to me that Michelle had the same goal and we enjoyed each other more than we had in years.

Monday morning I went into the office. I still had a trunk full of crap from promotion that I never delivered. I planned on returning it, and to also hand in my resignation. First though, I went into my closet and took out the recorder there. I removed the tape and stomped on the machine several times. I dropped the pieces into the trash can. I just sat down to compose my resignation letter when Herb Stewart, president of the company, came into the office.

"It seems that George Stowe almost lost our account with Bender this weekend, Eric. He engaged in some rather inappropriate activities with the Thomas Bender that was here last week. As I suspect you already know, having met the gentleman, that the Thomas Bender we so graciously entertained and ass-kissed last week was not the man that founded the company. There was some sort of proxy struggle and it seems that this Bender the nephew wrestled control away from Bender the uncle, for about a week," chuckled Herb.

"After George's and Bender the nephew's performance on wide screen surveillance monitors Friday night, their next employment may be in the porn industry. George insists you set him up, that you said Bender was a sexual pervert and he was just trying to get the contract for the company," continued Herb. "Do you know anything about that?"

"Hell, Herb. I told the idiot to NOT do anything unprofessional," I replied.

"That was certainly my impression at the meeting you addressed, Eric, and a few of your coworkers tell me you told George that very thing here in your office last week," added Herb.

"The good news is the original Thomas Bender has regained control of his company. He wants to increase our share of his business, and he wants you to be in charge of the account. That makes you a vice president with a healthy pay raise and George's old office. You'll have to bring along your office computer though. George must have known he was going to lose his job and removed the hard drive from his computer and broke the locks on the desk drawers. We'll get you a new desk. Congratulations!"

Herb gave me the first of what must have been a hundred hand shakes that day. Everyone loves a winner. I had George in checkmate and that made me a winner, or so it seemed. As far as I am concerned, the jury is still out.