Precisely at five minutes after seven each and every Friday evening, Mrs. Janet Wright was tied naked to a polished glass kitchen chair; this weekly ritual was adroitly, dutifully and perfectly performed by her husband Duncan. On Sunday morning Duncan freed her to fix breakfast. His mania, this ritualistic binding of his wife, was the only route to his sexual release: achieving an orgasm. For this weekly horrific indignity Janet paid him back tenfold. Revenge follows restraint.
Working in a high pressure sales environment our sixteen person sales force consisted of what might be politely called a bunch of nutty characters. No one was crazy in the real sense of the word, but in total we were fairly well off-the-wall young men and women. Jim Page was one of our stars simply because he had “chutzpah” beyond belief. To make the sale he would try almost anything. That’s what made him a top producer. When Mrs. Wright first entered the premises in our fancy 52nd floor downtown high-rise offices, Jim was very professional. I am not privy to the exact details of their one hour private conversation behind closed doors, but Jim did inform our receptionist that he had to leave for a short while after the interview. When he later returned the smile on his face was comparable to that of a Cheshire cat who had just swallowed a rat or a gallon of cream. (Actually, Janet did the swallowing!)
After work, over a beer in the pub across the street, Jim made all the arrangements. He collected ten dollars from each one of the seven of us and explained the rules he had just made up on-the-fly. As an additional price for admission each had to bring at least one friend. One person bringing five friends invoked a bonus where the original ten dollar investment would be returned. Jim explained that Janet wanted to sexually service as many men as possible in a sleazy flea-bag hotel. His task was recruiting stiff penises for Janet. Her revenge plan was taking shape.
Two days later on a warm summer evening at eleven PM Janet, wobbling as she tried to walk, walked out of the Andorra Hotel in a stupor. Janet was a mess. Jim and Malcolm had to support her arms so that she wouldn’t lose her footing. Her knees would not stop buckling. The oddity was the smile, almost a grin, on her pretty face. Never had an employee of the United Church of Canada enjoyed herself to that extent; but that’s just my opinion. With all the spit-roasting and fellating ongoing, I had lost count of her multi-various couplings in which Janet was the center, for some hours prior. But, I was astute enough to get her office phone number.
One week later Susan had a hot date planned with her new boyfriend. When Rolph, Susan’s new ‘friend’, confirmed their plans, I called Janet, Terry Hall and Lance Phelps, in that order. About a half-hour after Susan left the house Terry and Lance arrived with Daphne (Terry’s newest difficult seduction project) and Maurice. Twenty minutes later I fetched Janet and the moment I arrived back home the debauchery began. Maurice, being inexperienced in such matters, wanted to make love [read: lust] with Janet. Although we explained that she wanted to be the centerpiece of an orgy, Maurice persisted and led her upstairs to our master bedroom. Polite players that we are, we gave him a half hour to fall out of love. Terry and I had to suddenly stop groping Daphne in the family room when my in-laws unexpectedly arrived for an early evening swim. As soon as Jack and Molly got into the pool adjoining our playroom the Daphne project continued with my help while Lance went upstairs to talk Maurice out of temporarily being in love. My in-laws knew the score; they swam and left far too quickly.
What happened less than five minutes later sounds even crazier. An old school gal pal Susan had not seen in two or three years rang the doorbell. When I appeared Dahlia hugged me and pointed to her new husband waiting in the car at the curb. I saw a fellow waving and sitting at the wheel. I was flummoxed. I quickly explained that since Susan was not home and since I was hosting a small sex orgy I would have to excuse myself. Dahlia grabbed my arm and said “Hang on a minute”, and barreled down the driveway to talk to her man. She returned almost before I could say any more, and sweetly asked “Is it OK if my husband and I join in?”
I was stunned, confused. I didn’t know what else to say. I stupidly muttered, “No thanks.” Then, reluctantly, I slowly closed the door directly in her face.
In the few seconds walking back to the family room to assist Terry with the Daphne project, I realized what I had done. I ran back to the front door but Dahlia and her new husband were driving away. Daphne was half undressed, having fun letting the three of us play with her partially naked breasts and all the while calmly trying to explain to Terry why she wanted to remain chaste. Lance returned from upstairs asking for our help to handle Maurice who had all of a sudden turned into the knight in shining armor, the errant knight who was going to rescue Janet from the clutches of these animals. Janet, it turns out, didn’t want to be rescued. My plan was now totally off the rails. Janet's plan, revenge follows restraint, was trumping mine.
We joined Lance upstairs and coaxed Maurice into unlocking the bedroom door. Maurice trailing, the three of us led Janet downstairs and began to work on her naked body. A half naked Maurice and a half naked Daphne (she never made any effort to get her clothes back on) fidgeted and babbled at us about our sexual excesses, clearly welcomed by Janet. Daphne threatened to leave – still with few clothes on – if we didn’t start acting properly.
Janet spoke up. Everyone stopped. She explained through her tearing eye’s that she had to be abused. It was her only way of getting even, getting the revenge she needed to get, on her husband, Duncan. We learned, revenge follows restraint.
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FACTOID: Enough sperm to form an object slightly larger than an aspirin tablet would be sufficient to give Earth its present population.