Yo-yo Chronicles Ch. 02-2 EndingbyFinishTheDamnStory©
Payback Inc.: The Beginning - part 2 of my ending to edrider73's Yo-yo Chronicles Ch.02
After a near second betrayal, the protagonist decides it's time for him to get at least part of his balls back, and he comes up with a plan for revenge. It starts with his wife and her friend that started everything, and with their help, he pulls other men into the plan, who had suffered as he did.
A group of pissed off, betrayed men agree that something needs to be done, and Stu learns that others had already started. It's no longer his plan alone. He's part of a team.
The put-upon men form a consortium, a support group for each other, to deal with the humiliation, torture and deceit. Their extended payback begins with their evil wives, and moves forward from there.
And yes, this one is rather extreme, but the circumstances leading up to it were as well. It probably belongs in nonconsent, but I'm keeping it in LW for the continuity, and to match the author's original categorization. It also may seem to go off the tracks a bit, but there's a reason for that, to be illustrated shortly. It's also long, and probably could have been spit up into two chapters, but my chapter division is based on phases of the revenge, and not arbitrary length.
There are too damn many intriguing stories that are never completed, or left hanging with disgusting endings. If I find a story that's been abandoned for too long, I'll give you my idea of an ending. Fair warning though, I don't write about total wimps. May not be BTB, all nuclear and shit, but no voluntary cucks, or whiny simpering wimps.
For Information on how I choose which stories to continue, please read my profile.
Sunday was more research, trying to match up people at the meeting with the stills from the videos. We couldn't find any matches, and I came to the conclusion that once someone had been used and betrayed, that was probably the end of their visits. It was one thing to attend the show for a little thrill, quite another to be the main attraction. There might have been a few exceptions, but I hadn't been able to find any. It made a lot of sense to me.
I concluded I was wasting my time, trying to do it all myself. I had 22 possible contacts. That's who I needed to concentrate on. More than twenty people we'd identified. The next step was to find out more about them.
Within the week, I had what I needed. We'd been able to track down the information on 19 of the 22. The eight that mattered most were those who were recently divorced or separated. One of those was in jail. I'd have to get back to him later. The other seven were the ones I wanted to work with.
I made initial contact with all seven. Two wanted nothing to do with me, all they wanted to do was put it behind them, but the other five? Rabid hate, anger, disgust and evil thoughts seemed to drive them. Three of them were already trying to figure out some way to get even. When I told them of my plan, and what I wanted to do, they were begging to get involved.
It was during my conversation with Neil Monroe that things got weird. He had crazy ideas, and had been on the verge of enacting one of them, when I'd contacted him. He came from old money, and had never really had to fend for himself, family connections getting him into the schools and jobs he'd needed. He wasn't used to not getting his way, and when his wife had betrayed him, it was unlike the others. She had gone out of her way to torture and humiliate him, and as soon as his show was over, he'd gone home to divorce papers, and shark lawyers. When he'd tried to use his family influence to bring what had been done to him to light, he'd felt the power of Joanne's connections, spending time in jail, and having both his private investigator and his lawyer turn on him. His own family had encouraged him to let his bitch wife have what she wanted, and to chalk it up to experience. They weren't about to take on everybody, and from the way he told the story, it was every body. He wasn't sure, but he believed they'd been threatened or worse. One of his older brothers had moved away, and was totally incommunicado.
Neil wasn't of the same mindset, and I was stunned to see he had already set things in motion, and had a partner in crime, Eric Dean. Dean was one of the seven that I was going to contact, one of the easiest to identify from his video. He was a huge man, readily identifiable, and he worked in the public eye as a high-school teacher and one of the coaches of the football team.
Our conversation took a brief recess, while he contacted Dean. It turned out that while Neil had the desire and financial resources, Dean was the brains behind the deal. Eric Dean was a quieter man, physically imposing at 6'3" two-hundred forty pounds, a Math teacher and coach who understood that if he was in any way associated with what we had planned, his seven years of education and five subsequent years of teaching would be worth squat. As he discussed their plans so far, I realized how far behind the curve I was. When he spoke, I listened, it didn't take me long to figure out who the smartest man in the room was. He had encyclopedic knowledge, and an answer for every question I could pose. You'd never think it to look at him, but the guy had to have an IQ in the 150+ range. I'm no slouch, but this guy, just wow!
I filled them in on the others I'd contacted, and after due deliberation, we agreed that having more resources would work, if we could trust them. The depth of the betrayal we'd all incurred made it likely they'd go along with what we'd been discussing. It was well beyond my initial thoughts; much more thorough, and likely safer.
I went back to the men I'd contacted, bringing them up-to-date, and feeling them out as far as moving ahead with this more ambitious revenge.
"You understand," I would explain carefully, "what we're talking about isn't strictly legal. It's risky."
To a man, they conceded that the risk was worth the revenge. They were angry. I understood.
They were a mixed group, in background, in looks, in where they worked, or had worked. They had one thing in common, a burning hatred for what had been done to them, for the wives who had subjected them to it, and for the evil bitch and her minions who ran the whole show.
From the beginning, I recognized that Alan Butler and Chris Carter were men I could depend on. Butler had a coldness that frightened me, but his background could prove invaluable. He was ex-military intelligence, an Army Captain, Texas A&M cadet and grad, and a mid-level manager at an accounting firm. Carter was his opposite in many ways, a college dropout, serial entrepreneur who hit it moderately big once, and was currently working on a social media startup. Both men showed initiative, eagerly making suggestions, and offering to put their resources and abilities in play to make things work. I knew they'd fit in well.
Xavier was an unhappy man. He'd walked away from his job, and spent time in jail for contempt, before he'd give his wife a single penny in their divorce. He claimed he'd been in the joint before, and it was better than the time he'd spent with his 'evil whore'. He'd alienated himself from his family and friends, and now was working on the loading dock at a grocery distribution center. Dark and brooding, he rarely smiled, but he assured me he was 100% behind anything we wanted to do. Anything. Yes, he made that part exceedingly clear. An-y-thing. None of us doubted him for a second. I'm not ashamed to admit it, the guy gave me chills.
Neil was paranoid, after his first run against Joanna. He insisted on encrypted cell phones, and anonymous meetings. He leased a place downtown for our meetings, with access from an underground subway station, next to a mall. We would meet at different times, and approach from different directions, to keep the fact that we were working with each other a secret. Our first meeting was a huge success, and we were acting like life-long friends before it was over. A four hour discussion refined our plan, and with the new resources available, things looked even better.
Bob and I didn't keep things secret from our wives, but they weren't directly involved. They couldn't understand, of course. I kept Ellie informed of our progress, and calmed her when she expressed her concerns. When she grew more animated in her disagreement, I laid down the law. It was going to happen. She would play whatever part I dictated. It was part of the price of her betrayal. Once I'd reminded her of that, she seemed resigned to go along, and even started suggesting useful ideas.
Bob's Velma wasn't much better. He called me, and I went over and had a private conversation with her. With my cum dripping from her ass and pussy, and her ass glowing red, she said she understood what we needed to do, and why. She would help in any way she could. That was good, because I had plans for her.
We planned and prepared for four solid weeks, before putting the first stage plans into action.
I figured that with the five of them, Bob, and the two penitent wives, we stood a better than average chance of accomplishing what I wanted.
Neil's plan required a secure place to keep people against their wishes, private and secluded. It needed to be able to handle a large crowd, and would have to be modified to make sure there was no chance of their escape, or contacting anyone. He'd already started by purchasing a place that Dean had approved of. He was committed, and we would build on his plans.
The house in the country was a good bit off the beaten path. The building itself was in rough shape, but it was located on a nice sized parcel of land, and had one extremely redeeming feature. The original owner had been some kind of paranoid survivalist. The place was isolated, backing up to property on a flood plain on two sides, with no neighbors for miles.The grounds where surrounded by an electrified fence topped with barbed wire. The land beyond the fence was cleared for at least twenty yards to the dense woods beyond, before dropping off to swamp. Within the fenced grounds, there was a huge warehouse/garage, with space to park numerous vehicles. The homestead proper had a full basement the length of the house, and had been hardened. A damn near impenetrable door hidden behind a staircase provided access. Iron bars covered all the windows on the first floor, there were no windows in the basement, no evidence there even was one, unless you found the hidden entrance. There was a crow's nest atop the roof, and even an escape tunnel from the basement that ran almost a hundred yards out from the house, with an exit in the woods beyond the fence. Neil wouldn't tell us what the place cost, but he seemed proud of how he'd acquired it, and assured us the ownership was well disguised. Dean confirmed it, which made me feel better.
It would have been ideal if it wasn't nearly two hours out of town. It made access difficult. Before we started our 'acquisitions', we needed to prepare their new environment. It started with a serious discussion of what we wanted to accomplish long-term, particularly with the evil bitches that had created this entire atmosphere of rape and humiliation with their staged shows.
The longer we talked, the more it sunk in exactly what we were planning. Absolute control over another person, humiliation, and punishment, both physical and mental. We wanted to break them, and make sure they'd never even consider doing such a thing again, as well as understand why it was so wrong. For me, one of the scarier parts was that these men wanted to apply a subset of those actions against the women who'd betrayed them personally. I could understand their anger, but that part was harder for me to comprehend. My relationship with Ellie was such that I couldn't conceive of ever doing what they were considering, to someone I loved. Even knowing how bad some of those women had treated the men they were supposed to love and respect, it still surprised me.
It was only when we got into greater detail over what had happened did I start to see their point. Most didn't want to talk about their ordeal at first. Over time, as we all got to know each other better, and with some alcohol to lubricate the tongue, we talked. We had a common problem, and nobody could understand was had happened to each of us, better than we could. Before long, I started to accept their point of view. Not all of them, admittedly, but for a few, I started to harden my thoughts toward their ex-wives. They were, cruel, even inhuman in their behavior. Ellie was bad enough, getting a sexual thrill from my humiliation, not understanding how bad it was for me, but some of these women were disgusting.
Take Janine for example, one of the less evil ones, if you can believe it. Janine did Carter bad, and he was still very angry. She had been mad at him, apparently, for spending too much time on his business, controlling the money too tightly, and not taking better care of himself, gaining over 40 pounds in the three years they'd been married. He was happy to admit he was partially to blame for issues in his marriage. Things had been slipping downhill with them, when suddenly it started to get better. She was talking, affectionate, and he was bending over backwards to make things better. He'd sold his business, and started a new one which took less of his time. He'd joined a gym, and had lost his first ten pounds. She wanted to celebrate their improved lives, and suggested dinner and a show. You know by now what kind of show she was thinking of.
They went three times, and he admitted the sex was good after the shows, but he didn't like it, and told his wife he didn't want to continue going. She coerced him into attending one last time, much like my story, I realized. Janine volunteered him for the stage, knowing full well what would happen to him. She belittled him from the crowd, making fun of his weight and the size of his dick, which, while not impressive, was a perfectly reasonable size, as I'd find out later. He was used, and humiliated, distraught and emotionally destroyed. He thought things were improving between them, and then that.
She was apologetic, of course, and he resigned himself to stay with her after lots of tears and professions of true love. They discussed their issues, and agreed to work to make things better. It wasn't long before she started in with humiliating remarks, insults about his anatomy, and controlling the sex. When she confessed to an affair, he'd had enough. She was stunned when she was served with divorce papers in her office. Theirs was an ugly, bitter divorce, and she never understood why he was so upset with her. We figured she'd understand soon enough.
Annette's situation was a complete clusterfuck. It made no sense whatsoever. She and Xavier had only been married two years. They fell head-over-heels in love with each other, and according to Xavier they had a great thing going, except for one issue: they fought. Knock-down, drag-out arguments with lots of yelling and on the verge of physical abuse, without quite crossing that line. Their fights rarely lasted more than an hour or so, and usually ended in great 'make-up' sex. If not for their volatile tempers, and the infrequent screaming sessions, he thought their marriage was close to perfect, as least for him. They were a great match, with similar likes, and dreams. They were talking about starting a family. They'd even started looking for a house to buy.
They had been partying. He was drunk and high, and she was in just as bad a shape as he was. Recreational drug use was part of their relationship, but they had it under control, limiting it to their weekends, and not letting it affect their jobs.
They'd had a fight, he couldn't even remember what it was about, he thought it was over. She didn't, had a temper and bore a grudge. She put on a loving act, and suggested they try something new, and promised him a wild evening of sex. He had no idea how wild she intended it to be. Xavier said he didn't have a clue about the place, and Annette had never mentioned it before. How she got involved with the place was a complete mystery. Once at the show, that very first time, she volunteered him for the stage. He was in no condition to argue, bombed out of his mind, and was actually laughing as he was led drunkenly to the central platform. He didn't provide much of a show, half out of it most of the time. Most of his memories of the event came from reviewing the video of his humiliation. When one of the guys was cornholing Xavier, he kept calling the guy Annette, telling her he'd get his turn. The next day when he realized what had happened, he was alone. She'd run out on him once she realized how bad it was, taking the money out of their accounts, and gone into hiding. She'd crossed a line, big-time. She came from a big family, and stayed with them. He was ambushed with the divorce, and never had a chance to even speak to her, and find out why she'd done it. The one time he'd tried to confront her, he'd been beaten up by her brothers. They'd never spoken since that night. Let's just say that Xavier was not a happy camper.
I've already mentioned Petra, who sacrificed her husband Neil happily. Apparently her relationship was a farce, an easy way to use him and get a big chunk of his money. She had it all planned out. Putting him on the stage was her way of putting an end to their relationship. By the time he was being publicly humiliated, she had all her ducks in a row. He woke the next day to a belly full of cum, a burning asshole, and divorce papers. Personally, I thought she deserved whatever she had coming.
We had decided how we need to prepare our clubhouse, in order to deal with these women, on a long-term basis. It would require a good bit of work, and we'd have to do it on our own. It's not the type of work we wanted anyone else knowing about.
We spent a weekend doing the initial conversion, and individually continued to do whatever we could in preparation. Xavier volunteered to stay there from the beginning, insisting he'd bring his tools out with him, working on any necessary repairs, while updating the basement. He dealt with his job by calling and telling them he wouldn't be back. He'd been living in a rent-by-the-week fleabag hotel. He grabbed his few belongings, picked up his last check, and moved in.
We all had to admit, Xavier was handy with the tools. We could immediately see the improvements. He requested a boat load of materials, and we had our first discussion about 'formalizing' our involvement, and what it would cost. Dean wrote a charter, and requested that we all invest an equal amount. Neil argued he'd take care of the funding, but Dean explained that it was important that we all be invested. We settled on two thousand dollars each, which was painful, but not impossible. There's nothing like writing a big check to make everything 'real'. We agreed to reduce Xavier's portion to $250, since that was nearly everything he had, and he'd make up the difference in free labor on the house. Bob paid in installments, a thousand up front, and agreed to pay two-hundred a month. He had a family to support, and we wanted to reduce his share as well, but surprisingly he fought back, saying he expected to be a full partner. Neil still insisted we were underfunded, and matched the amount of cash in our coffers, giving us over twenty grand to work with.
It took all of our free-time, but it was necessary. Once we'd finished the building modifications, we knew it was time to start. For me, it had now been nearly a year from when I'd suffered my humiliation, four months since my anniversary betrayal, and when I thought about it, I still burned.