Hey, It's Payback Time, Ex-Husband

Julia Forster When I heard him say, "You talk too much," I immediately froze up like a deer that had been caught in the headlights of a bus. He came for me immediately, and I was unable to avoid it; I felt something steel-like wrap around my neck. He hit me. I felt like I was being suffocated by his hands, I could see the fire of wrath burning in his eyes, and he was staring at me as if I had done something he considered to be a mortal sin. While I was slowly losing the breath I had gathered in my lungs, he murmured to me, "What have I told you about these silly questions, Julia?" "Always, you always ask these ridiculous and moronic questions as if you do not know the answer to them." Have you gone crazy?" His hold became increasingly firm on my throat, and I felt myself slipping away, passing out, and losing consciousness as a result. “Benjamin… I am just asking you questions," I tell him feebly, trying to keep my grip on reality, but he simply slammed me down on the bed. My airways opened immediately as I tried to catch the breath that I lost while he had me in his grip because I was trying to catch the breath that I lost while he had me in his grip. If you do not choose to respond to it, you may always choose to ignore it, as you have done in the past. He grabbed a hold of my hair and began thrashing me madly about the bed like a predator that had its prey in its teeth. The agony flew across my eyes now like a flash of red light as I felt the roots of my hair being ripped. It was a red light as I felt the roots of my hair being wrenched. "I do not remember giving you the goddamned right to question me, Julia. I do not remember giving you the right to ask me at all." You already know the answer to these questions, but in an audacious attempt to draw a reaction out of me, you continue to ask them. "You fucking keep on asking them!" After throwing me into the bed, he scooped me back up and started choking me while simultaneously pulling my hair with the other hand. While he was doing this, the other hand grabbed my throat and the other hand pulled my hair. I was unable to hold the sorrow any longer and cried out, "I'm sorry." Tears ran freely from my eyes onto the bed, but there was no pity in his gaze. There was nothing except hostility. "Please stop, Benjamin." I mumble under my breath, but he does not cease; in fact, it gets even worse. Benjamin managed to tug me out of the bed by just yanking at my hair with his full power. I felt a whoosh of air as my vision changed, and I found myself gazing at the floor now. He hurled me off the bed. I felt a change in my vision. I found myself staring at the floor. During this time, I could feel clumps of my hair being torn out by Benjamin. I had landed on my face on the hard floor, which was not a pleasant experience. "All right, let's get down to business. I can't remember the last time I had so much fun with you! As I heard Benjamin's footsteps approaching, he teased me and walked away. You've got a lot more guts than you usually have, haven't you? When he stated those words, I immediately had a mental image of the smirk that was on his face. I had a terrible fall on the marble floor, and as a result, my head and neck were in excruciating agony. Additionally, I was shaken to the point that I felt disoriented. I could feel him getting closer to me at this point, and I made an effort to get away from him in the hopes that he would leave me alone now, but as I did so, he laughed at me. "Look who's trying to get away from me, Julia, pull yourself together. Let's not kid ourselves. Just accept your punishment, he said as he delivered a sharp kick to my stomach. The agony was so excruciating that it almost caused me to throw up whatever it was that I had eaten earlier. Because of the anguish that shook me from head to toe, I couldn't even think about what I had. I rolled onto my side and clutched at my stomach as I continued to cry uncontrollably. I was trying to figure out what the fuck I had done to the world to deserve being put through this torture. My sobs continued to flow uncontrollably. I then felt Benjamin' shoe on top of my chest; he laid it on top of me like a hunter who has vanquished a carnivore. I was confused at first, but then I realized it was Benjamin' shoe. I mumble, "Please stop," as the sorrow and misery that I was feeling once more began to affect my voice and cause it to crack. “Sorry?” Benjamin pretended to be hard of hearing and said, "Did you say more?" He stomped so heavily on my chest that it nearly seemed as if my ribs were shattering into small shards of bone that might possibly potentially puncture my lungs. He did this by repeatedly stomping on my chest. My vision was hazy as a result of the tears and the agony that I was experiencing when I felt him lift me up. I was trying to recover from the anguish. My awareness was vanishing more and more quickly. Because his hands were on my chin, I could hardly see the face of my husband as he stood in front of me. I felt like I was being choked. August remarked in a sarcastic tone, "Not finished yet, love," using the term of affection I had always used for him without irony. He then swung his palm to the side and delivered a backhand to my face. "Not finished yet, love" It clicked into place right at the moment when the sound of flesh rubbing against flesh filled my ears. At the same time as he was slapping me, I could feel the inside of my cheek cutting into my teeth. My tongue was flooded with the flavor of blood at this point. Benjamin reached out with one arm and caught me as I was about to hit the ground. He then assisted me in remaining upright. I just stood there, feeling groggy. Everything seemed so far away at this point. It's the noises. The suffering. The dreadful truth. Everyone of them. It seemed as if my body had given up on itself and was only surviving as a shell of its former self. I could feel him dragging me towards the bed, and when we reached it, he forcibly flung me on it while laughing at the same time. Benjamin said with pride, "Time for the final touches," and all I could do was place my hands in front of me in an attempt to shield myself from his laughter, but all he did was laugh even harder. I was hit by his blow and immediately felt it in my stomach, where I could feel his fist crashing on it. It made me cough, it made me weep, and it made the pain in my chest even worse. I was clearly going to have to spend the rest of my life with this guy, and the experience was a nightmare that repeats itself every time he is furious about something. "You're absolutely correct, Julia. Take all of my animosity," he yelled at this point, groaning as he proceeded to hit me as I was lying in bed. My body no longer gave a damn about anything. In a strange manner, it seems that I had become accustomed to this type of treatment, since I was no longer recognizing the agony that I was being subjected to. Some people could think that it was already a bad situation, but by sticking here they think I'm making it much worse. But how could I possibly know that? This was the life that I was familiar with; it was a never-ending loop of misery and torture, and all you could do was keep going as if nothing was wrong and act like nothing was bothering you. After what seemed like an eternity, he calmed down and put an end to his wrath once and for all. I could feel him gently caressing my cheek as he leaned in close to me and spoke in a reassuring tone, "Next time, Julia." He was breathing heavily at the moment. You need to learn how to keep your goddamn mouth shut! " He collapsed into the bed in a couple of seconds, where Benjamin Forster, my husband, was fast asleep.

Julia Forster Benjamin was now fast asleep in our bed as if nothing had occurred while the anguish was still pouring through me like an aftershock. My entire body, including my face and neck, were in excruciating pain. When it came to being physical, he never held back at any point. It has always been in this manner. I was hopelessly entangled in a marriage that was meant to fail from the very beginning, yet I refused to give up. Despite the fact that it was very thin. I found myself mumbling, "I can't do this," as I slowly rose up from the bed. The pangs from Benjamin' onslaught continued to reverberate throughout my body, but I was able to get myself off the bed and leave the room. Despite the fact that I was worn out, I was unable to fall asleep. Because I knew I would only be tormented by bad dreams regardless, I decided to seek refuge on the couch in the living room and think about how my life could have gotten to this point. While Benjamin was resting, I couldn't help but feel envious of his ability to get some shut-eye after everything that had taken place. It's possible that he's become accustomed to it, and now it's just something that he does as part of his routine. After three years, we started dating back when we were in college. I remember feeling joyful and thinking that I was the happiest person alive on planet that day when we began dating. Because, after all, wasn't it everyone's goal to get married and spend the rest of their lives with the one they loved the most? Benjamin Forster was the perfect gentleman; he was kind, kind, and understanding back then. He was the guy of my dreams. Had he undergone any sort of transformation over the course of the years? Even the wedding is a clear memory for me; it was lavish, full of pomp and circumstance, and attended by a large number of well-wishers and visitors. I never stopped kidding myself into thinking that perhaps it was because of the work that he did. When his father passed the reins of a large, extremely successful firm on to him, he underwent a dramatic transformation into an entirely different person. Prior to that, he had been managing the company. He was no longer the kind and compassionate Benjamin; rather, he had hardened into a cruel man. His once-warm personality has been completely transformed into one of ruthlessness. The eyes that blazed with aspirations and desires transformed into the blank, emotionless eyes of a statue that simply wanted to accomplish whatever it was that it wanted to do. Working late into the night on the business, attending meetings, and traveling internationally to meet with potential customers pushed his mental well-being to its breaking point. Where exactly did we make our mistake? I was always attentive to his every want, and I made sure there was food on the table whenever he came, but once we were married, everything changed. I am no longer responsible for his needs. Radically. I was only present; he hardly acknowledged my presence since he spent a greater amount of time in the workplace than he did with me. He would stay there through the late evenings and even the early morning hours. There were several occasions in which he did not even return to the house. What brought about this shift in you, Benjamin? I never stopped questioning myself. But the answer that came to my mind was always "No. He did not alter. He just took off the mask that he had been using for all of that time and let his actual nature to shine through. At first, I was resistant to the idea of accepting it since it was such an awful thing to consider. I recoiled in horror at the thought that he has always been a monster; might he be a sociopath? To suggest that he was constantly unconcerned about how other people felt and that his opinion was the only thing that counted is absurd. One evening, a number of years ago, he arrived home in an incoherent state after getting drunk and began babbling about how the company's stocks were plummeting and how he needed to do something about it. During that time, he was in a state of despair and working really hard to get it back into shape; during those evenings, I did my best to soothe him. When we were going over the issues that the firm was having, we lost a significant number of nights' worth of sleep. He suspected that some of the board members who had been there for a while were engaging in questionable financial behavior, therefore he was looking into ways to remove them. He was successful in achieving his goal, but as a result, he evolved into the monstrosity that he is today. After he had succeeded in rescuing the firm, I suggested to him that we should take a trip for a change. That was the first time he made an impression on me. It was necessary for him to take his mind off of the business. He had yelled at me at that time, "Fuck off!" as I was holding the face that he had struck, but he had stopped then recognizing what he had done and he comforted me, and he even apologized for losing his cool at that point. I was holding the cheek that he had struck. There was a point where I should have just walked away. Because there is a proverb that states people who have done something once will do it again, and this statement is true. That is accurate the vast majority of the time. The lessons I should have learned from those years continue to haunt me now. There was a point where I should have just walked away. But although knowing it was a fool's dream, I clung to the belief that one day, when the moment was perfect, he would come to terms with what he had done and alter his behavior. Maybe this time he'll remember that I'm a human being and start treating me as such. But for the time being, he was a monstrosity that I was unable to identify. After he had hit me for the first time, he just stopped pretending, and with that, the deception that I was his wife came to an end. When he invited clients over for dinner, which I would cook with all of my heart, I was nothing more than a trophy for him to show off in front of his visitors. Trying to lend him any assistance I can in his efforts to win over his firm. Because I was nothing more than a plaything in his eyes, we would only make love at his whim. A doll. Someone for him to vent his anger on; nothing more than that. I felt the tears well up in my eyes once more; it seems to be a recurring theme in my life right now; I married the guy of my dreams, yet I still end up being sad. It resembles the paw of a monkey. However, there is a catch to what you wish to happen. A twisted vision of the future. You finally meet the man of your dreams, but the relationship turns out to be the very worst nightmare you've ever had. However, even at the darkest of hours, I would still desire and beg for something better. One day, just let it be one day, he will understand that he is able to love other people, and when that day comes, he will be able to love me as well. Just give us one day. I scream out in a pitiful manner, "I love you, Benjamin," which is an absurd statement; was I mistreated to the extent that I fell in love with the person who was abusing me? Is this an example of the Stockholm syndrome, or am I just desperately clinging to something in the hope that I might somehow disprove fate's predictions? "Maybe one day you will learn how to love others; I hope that day comes soon because right now, I need your love," you may say. "I hope that day comes soon because right now, I need your love."

Benjamin Forster Everyone else is below me here in Los Angeles because I am on top of the city. That is something that can never be taken away from me. My name is Benjamin Forster, and I am the most skilled person in my field; but, the work I make is not always appealing to look at. A few years ago, when I took over the failing business that my father had left to me, I decided to give it my all in order to restore it to its former grandeur. It did. Additionally, it exceeded its previous glories by going above and beyond its expectations. Everything is my fault. I try to go to the workplace as early as possible; the idea of having to spend another hour with that woman at home is beyond my comprehension. She always managed to get on my nerves by behaving as if she were as powerful and as intelligent as I am. She was insignificant. Simply said, all she was was a lovely face. It was my idea to outfit the firm with marble columns, which gave off an air of quality. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the Forster Trading Corporate, it was a pleasure to watch people working hard. The company halls were lined with marble columns. I came dangerously close to breaking my back while lugging this failing business and bringing it back from the brink of death in order to ensure that those people would continue to have work. We were responsible for the transportation of a wide variety of goods, including steel works, agricultural equipment, food, and other resources that different governments throughout the world utilize for their own nations. Because these helped the corporation bring in more money overall, the company also engaged in some illegal commercial activities known as black operations. These were nothing more than handguns and other types of weaponry that are currently in service with the armed forces of certain nations. Back then, my father made a huge mistake, and since he was afraid that the responsibility would fall on me if the business failed, he gave it to his only son so that he could absolve himself of any responsibility for the fallout. Because I was so angry, I channeled my energy into rebuilding it and cutting him out of it completely by revealing what he had done. Everyone found out who I am and what I am capable of doing right at that moment and location. It makes no difference to me whether they are made of blood if they are unsuccessful. Being ruthless, being calculated, and having a cold demeanor are the essential qualities that are required for a tycoon like myself to achieve my goals and become successful. An intern greeted me with "Good morning, Mr. Forster" as I strolled through the magnificent hallways of my firm; nevertheless, I paid him no attention at all. Why should I lower myself to meet someone who isn't getting paid? They were just here because it was required for their schoolwork. "Mr. Forster!" a lady yelled out as she raced up to me at this moment, and I stare at her. She flinched as I looked at her since it was usually a terrible idea to bother me so early in the morning because I have dismissed staff for less than that in the past. She was out of breath as she talked to me, and I observed that she was vividly flushing as I stared at her. "These shipments to Poland require your signature before we can give them the go signal." She was probably in her early twenties, and she had brown hair that flowed in waves, both of which drew my attention to her. She was a young woman. It's possible that I'll end up sleeping with this one next. But before that, some business. "Are those the steel beams that were sent out?" I question her in a blank manner, and she strongly nods, that a construction company had asked us to transport these to Poland for the usage of a customer, and because it was a large account, I agreed to do this. It is very likely that we could make a few of million dollars by doing so. I take out my pen, reach inside the pocket on my chest, and sign the paper that she was holding. "Anything else?" I inquire more, and she responds by shaking her head. “Dismissed.” As soon as I started making my approach towards the office, the woman exited the building without wasting any time. My secretary, who was also another lady with whom I had slept, was already at her desk so early. She greeted me by saying, "Mr. Forster, you will have a meeting with a possible customer after lunch." They are quite enthusiastic about conducting business with us. This one was a woman with red hair and glasses; her freckles made me want her, and ultimately, I was successful in acquiring her. If there is enough time, I would like to sleep with her. "Tell me about the encounter with that moronic councillor," you asked. I ask her, I hated dealing with politicians because they believe they're hotshot schemers, but in reality, they're simply dogs with a big bark but little bite. I ask her, I disliked dealing with politicians because they think they're hotshot schemers. It was a fun pleasure to see them wriggle and squirm as I bullied them into accepting my offers, but being in their presence made me feel uncomfortable and sticky. The redhead looked over the stack of papers that had been placed in front of her desk, and then she just shook her head and said, "I don't believe that's on the agenda for today, sir." “Great. My workplace is where you can find me. Please alert me when my presence is required. I tell her, "Only major developments," as I walk into my office, which is my own private area in which I have complete freedom to do whatever the heck I want. Who cares if I had sex with many ladies here since I did it anyway? Who cares what I do as long as I can keep the business going and give them consistent numbers? No one gives a rat's behind about what I do. There was a pile of documents, and I heaved a sigh of exasperation at the fact that there were outstanding contracts that needed to be inspected and signed. I was under the impression that I should only conduct business with large corporations, and as a result, I would only let my own firm engage in transactions with smaller enterprises as a gesture of charity and grace. In this manner, a favorable impression of ourselves would be conveyed to the rest of the globe. Since it did not generate any income and would often cause a loss of funds for our company, I will only consent to it happening during very profitable months. I sat down in my office chair, which was made of leather and had been well cleaned by the cleaning staff. It has always been convenient for me to be in an environment in which I can conduct my business in peace and without interference. I just caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye, but it was enough to start getting on my nerves. On top of one of the drawers was a picture of the person. As I stand up from the chair and move closer to the object in question, I mutter under my breath, "I thought I fucking took care of this already." It was a picture of Julia and myself taken during our wedding. Julia was my bridesmaid. Everything seemed so hopeless to me at that time. I didn't give it a second thought before grabbing it and tossing it in the trash can. “Trash. As I was making my way back to the desk, I said to myself, "Where you deserve to be." I had married that woman so that I might advance my social standing, but in my eyes, she was nothing more than a piece of meat. The fact that a man is successful in business also makes him a good husband and father. If I weren't married, rumors and gossip about my status and maybe even my sexual orientation would spread like wildfire. I've never been able to wrap my head around the idea of love; why would anyone want to devote themselves to a single partner for the rest of their lives without taking into account the possibility that the partner may alter your life in ways that you could never recover from? I would just dedicate myself to the company and nothing else. I had married Julia because she was the ideal toy for me; she is naive, innocent, and believes in the idea of love. I had married Julia. To some extent, I feel that she still believes in it, which makes her an even more repulsive person. She was the type of woman who was interested in listening to tall tales and nonsense. That just is not the case. It was never the case. She was nothing more than an object of my passion, just like every other woman who has ever entered my life; they were all nothing more to me than fleshlights for me to take pleasure in. My own wife never raised an objection whenever I brought another lady into the house, even though I did it on a regular basis. She could even hear us banging and fucking away, yet she would still allow it to happen despite the fact that she could hear it. Because I would severely punish her if she spoke out, if she did. Which made me delighted since I wanted to exert some degree of control over her. to torture her whenever she acts in a disobedient manner. to make use of her when I was unable to locate anyone else to utilize. To me, she is nothing more than that. Someone or something I despise. Before beginning to work on the piles of material in front of me, I found myself saying, "I fucking hate you." "I fucking hate you," I said to myself.

Benjamin Forster The day was almost over, just a minute or so before I would finally be free to do what I wanted, but somehow, in some fucked up way, some person manages to barge in at the time I least expect them to. "Fucking hell," I muttered to myself as another knock on the door brought me out of my reverie. The day was almost over, and just a minute or so away, I would finally be free to do what I wanted. "Mister Forster?" When I had nothing else to do, I would usually distract myself with Vivian, the gorgeous redhead secretary that I had recruited. “Yes? "This better be worth the over time I am not getting paid for," I grumpily asked her while glancing at my watch for effect. She appeared both embarrassed and sheepish as I responded to her in a rude manner, but this is what they are used to seeing from me because I am the kind of boss who is "no bullshit, no nonsense." "There is someone here, his name is Mister Stella Sanders, and he is representing the private military corporation known as "Surge Tech," which is a company that we do business with. "According to him, the situation is critical" As I tried to piece together what was going on in my head, my thoughts kept drifting to the underlying need of me wanting to kick back and start drinking in a pub somewhere while I tried to recover the memory of what I had to do with this Stella Sanders. My thoughts flitted past like butterflies as I tried to piece together what was going on. There are a lot of things going through my head, and that is the reason why I am the most powerful magnate in Los Angeles. It is because of these things that I was able to maintain a firm grasp on the reins of power, even as everyone else below me shook with fear. I eventually recalled the transaction that we had been going through, so I told her, "Ah, I see." It had something to do with a shipment of weaponry to a nation in the Middle East, which his men will use to assist some men in combating a developing insurrection in the region. There were a few problems with it, and the FBI was listening in closely on the agreement. They have stated that they will not hesitate to intervene if they believe that we are putting the safety of the United States at risk. "Let him in." Jenkins entered the room looking like he had been through a lot, stressed out and frazzled, yet despite his appearance, he exudes an air of authority. "Mister Forster, it is fantastic to finally meet in the flesh," he informed me with an accent that seemed like it was coming from Europe. He extended his hand, and I firmly shook it. "The level of intensity that I bring to the table personally could not possible be contained in any of the video sessions that we had" I responded with "Stella," ignoring the honorific he had previously used. "Well, if that's the case, then this must have something to do with the FBI keeping a close eye on our shipments, doesn't it?" The man chuckled as though I had told a really good joke, and then he said, "Ah yeah, yes, your country's Bureau or whatever they want to be called." We have an agreement with them that states they are not allowed to touch us as long as we stay out of their path. This is completely unrelated to anything else, Mister Forster." I searched my memory for the appropriate response, but I was never informed that the FBI issue had been resolved. Those employees in my "Intelligence" section are going to receive a little reprimand in due time. "Ah yes, sorry, there's been a lot on my plate recently. I haven't been able to keep up with everything that's been going on, but obviously the FBI has been taken care of by now. But what is this whole new thing? "What exactly is it?" I questioned him with the expectation that he would not notice that I had smoothed things up in order to give him the impression that I was unaware that the FBI issue had been resolved. "There is some type of politician here that wants in on the transaction, and he will send us another shipment of weapons to give to our people over there, but he wants me to make sure that you are in on it," the person said. "I want to make sure that you are in on it." Jenkins remarked to me while I was trying to take in the information that I had just been given and he smiled at me. I cast a cursory glance at the clock and saw that barely three minutes had passed, but it felt like a lifetime had passed. The desire, the need, and the lust for alcohol, for booze, and to live recklessly started to tighten on me, but I buckled my thoughts up and smiled sweetly at Stella Sanders. I felt as though I had lived a lifetime. "Is this for a deal that will take place behind closed doors, or is this going to be official?" I smiled in response to his question, and he rolled his eyes in response, which was the deciding factor in the situation. "Very well, Mister Jenkins. I will let the people below me know about the new arrangement that has been formed with "Surge Tech," as well as the fact that covered shipments are about to come, and that they will most likely be transported to the same area. Jenkins gave me a reassuring smile when I said that I had "struck the nail on the head" with that statement. "Yes, I think that would be wonderful. Jenkins said menacingly, "Remember, Mister Forster, everyone's reputation is at stake here, and we do not wish to hit any more snags as we have heard reports of some people in your company snooping around on our 'private' shipments," and I almost flinched as he said it because it was a veiled threat, there was a rumor going around about corporate espionage going on, and I still had not managed to get on It was an issue that needed to be fixed, but I have a lot of time to do it now. I stood up from my seat at the table, and Jenkins, interpreting it as a hint that the meeting was coming to a close, did the same thing. He shook my hand once more before leaving the room. As he tossed the fresh stack of papers onto my desk, he had a sly look in his eyes that suggested he was hungry. After a cursory review, I discovered that it would bring in an additional three billion dollars in revenue for my organization. What a steal, right? I put my signature on the documents and then gave them to Vivian, who waited until I had left for the day before she would go anywhere else. I instructed her to "Bring this to the correct channels, this is under the table, so quiet," and as I left the company, finally ready to get my party on, she simply nodded silently in response. "Bring this to the proper channels, this is under the table, so hush." —- The bar that I typically went to for late-night drinks was really busy today for some unknown reason, and there were a lot of people there. As I made my way across the dance floor in search of my regular table, which was usually reserved for me, the pounding roar of the music muffled the wild and boisterous slurring that they were engaging in. When people noticed who was strolling among them, several of them did a double take. These peons, pissants, or whatever they are definitely appreciated the attention they received from staring. The strobe lights that flooded the space were not able to disguise my identity; yet, I did not care because it was irrelevant to the situation. Who was going to give a damn if I went out partying, drank some alcohol, and had a good time? My wife? You've got to be joking. I walked by a man who said, "Oh, Mister Forster!" as I did so. As I did so, he shamelessly prostrated himself before me while pulling at my leg. I attempted to move it away from him, but he had such a grasp on it that I thought the fabric may be ripped if I tried any further. "Please, I was let off from your company just today, and this is the only thing that's keeping me afloat in life." Although I was able to make out these terrible remarks despite the loud music that was playing in the background, I did not feel any empathy for him as I looked down at him. He had an unremarkable appearance and did not stand out in any way, which meant that I was not familiar with him or whatever he performed. A poor grunt who was most likely let go by a boss at one of the organizations that fall under my umbrella. "How is it any of my business?" When I responded with sarcasm, he tightened his grip on my leg, which annoyed me further. I was giving him the finger. I didn't come to this place to listen to some whimpering wretch dump snot all over my well-tailored jeans; I came here to have fun. "I do not even know you," the speaker said. As he continued speaking, he swallowed his pride and embarrassment and said, "Please, sir, I need this job to support my family." As others began to notice what was going on, they began to stare; thus, it was imperative that I take the appropriate action before the situation became much more precarious than it already was. I tell him in a severe tone, "This is a pub that caters to the affluent and well-to-do. How are you here then, if you would cry about feeding your family?" I made a move toward a bouncer, and he recognized me right away and looked over to see what was going on. Instantaneously, he moved in my direction. The man struggled violently while the bouncer held him aloft as if he weighed nothing, and the bouncer continued to hold him. "Come along gently now," the bouncer calmly remarked, unperturbed and undisturbed by the man's attempts to free himself from his grasp. "Don't annoy the other guests," the bouncer said. I gave the bouncer a little tap on the shoulder as they were leaving my area, and as he came around to face me, he saw that I was taking something out of my pockets. I did not make an effort to find out his name because everyone already knew mine, and that was all that was important. "For you, Bouncer," I told him. For situations exactly like this one, I had a couple of hundred dollar dollars stashed away in my pockets, and he accepted them with gratitude. I turned to him and stuffed a handful of these hundred dollar notes, which added up to potentially hundreds of dollars, into his pocket while muttering, "For you, loser." Since I was a regular customer, I was given my own honorary place, and because I did spend a significant amount of money at this establishment, the proprietor personally bestowed upon me the right to use this particular booth as my own. The room made way for me as I continued to walk through it, and my table was already waiting for me there. It was the ideal VIP booth in which I could have my own personal space. She was wearing a revealing dress that cut deep into her own chests, and her cleavage was literally demanding for me to delve in, but I had to contain myself since I wanted a drink first. "Mister Forster," the hostess cooed. She was wearing a revealing dress that cut deep into her own chests. I couldn't be bothered to learn her name, so I just grinned at her instead. She had strawberry blonde hair, and the cherry red outfit that shimmered perfectly complemented her. I could already see the men around the booth almost undressing her with her gaze, but this was mine to do with as I pleased. "It's wonderful to be back," I remark to her in a light-hearted manner as I settle into the plush velvet chair with a cushion, thinking to myself that it's been a long time since I've been this relaxed. "Well, since we're here, why don't we have my standard?" The young lady flashed a grin as she waved her palms in front of the bartender, who was already fully aware of what I ordered as my "regular" —- Her lips parted my mouth, and I could feel her attempting to lick every area of my mouth. Meanwhile, her hands were stroking me and rubbing at my chest, my thighs, and my dick, which was starting to become more firm. She was stroking it quite vigorously; the booth had been locked off, and no one would dare to peep into Benjamin Forster's very own private VIP chamber. I was able to get her off the couch and place her on the table with very little effort, and she chuckled the whole time, as if she found it amusing to be dominated in this manner. She spoke to me in a lustful tone and smirked at me as I separated her legs and positioned myself in between them. "Well, someone's playing rough today," she remarked. "Well, someone's acting rough today." But the desire and the impulse to do so abruptly vanished from me as thoughts of my wife began to pour into my brain at the same time as the new agreement, which was starting to sound frenetic due of the involvement of the politician who must remain nameless. My rage, combined with my intoxicated thoughts and the alcohol that was already in my veins, began to make my erection weaken, so I dropped myself back down on the couch, and she sat up, looking a little bit dissatisfied with what she saw. She questioned me while gently stroking my face, "Augie, are you okay?" as I turned my head away from her. I did not reply to her as I proceeded to consume the beverage in front of me. Once more, the booze gave me a rush, but all I could do was stare around pityingly, as if I had completely lost the desire to drink at all. After consuming one drink after another in complete quiet for an hour, I eventually left the establishment, somewhat wobbling as I signaled to Preston, a driver whom I had on standby for times when I was having one of these drinking binges, to take me home. I wanted a break from everything, but as soon as I remembered what a hot mess of a woman I would have to deal with when I got home, I started to feel the wrath building up again.

Julia Forster Although the make-up did a good job of concealing the bruises, they still hurt when I touched them; nevertheless, it is just a normal part of the process. I had no choice but to put up with this because this was a very important day for us. We held out hope that he would be able to make it home in time for supper. On the table was a steak that had been freshly prepared and grilled to his preferred level of doneness, which was medium rare. Champagne was sitting on an ice bucket, ready to be sipped when it was finally ready. I played several lulling tunes, as well as some timeless piano works by renowned musicians of the past. But Benjamin was still not there when I checked the time; it was already past his normal bedtime. My mind started to fill up with images of him being involved with another woman, and I did my best to push those images to the back of my consciousness. I needed to preserve my composure and my sanity in order to get through this. If this means that I have to pretend I know what I'm doing, then I have no problem with that. I have suffered, and all I wanted was to be loved; perhaps Benjamin will finally understand this when the company stops bothering him the way they always have, and then perhaps he will be able to finally kick back, relax, and acknowledge that he has always had a wife waiting for him at home. I have endured. I only wanted to be loved. I gave the mirror another glance and saw the same reflection staring back at me; she was a beautiful woman, as if she just had not been through a whirlwind of emotions and pain recently. Even for just this day, it would be okay for me to feel even a semblance of love from him. I glanced back at the mirror again and saw the reflection staring back at me; she was a beautiful woman. As I heard his car pull into the driveway, I tried to prepare myself for the impending hit by telling myself, "Just this day, give me just this day, and I will be okay." I heard the door of the automobile slam shut, and when the lights went out, I shut my eyes as the front door of the mansion opened. I didn't waste any time in greeting him, even though he appeared to have had a difficult day. I addressed him in a soothing tone, "I'm delighted you came home, sweetie," but all he did was gaze at me in confusion. Benjamin Forster My mind raced as Preston pulled into the driveway; the business transaction with the politician had finally dawned on me, and it exploded in my mind like a bomb. This was a high-risk transaction, and it had the ability to either make a lot of money for all of us or put all of us in danger. Dealing with politicians was one of the aspects of it that I detested the most since they are all so self serving. However, if it is managed well, one's own greed may be turned into useful instruments and possibilities for financial gain. But this one, to the extent where even someone as dubious and as strong as Stella Sanders is unable to pronounce this person's name, must suggest that he is quite far up in the ladder. This irritated me since nobody should have any authority over me in any manner or form when it comes to activities and procedures that call for my participation. As the gates opened, which were automated by cameras that scanned the license plates on my vehicle, I suddenly remembered that I also have to deal with this woman; it irritated me to no end, I was not able to enjoy a night out with the gorgeous blonde from the pub, I have to be hassled by Stella Sanders' sudden appearance, and now I have to deal with my stay-at-home wife who always seems to be on my ass for some reason. I was unable to enjoy a night out I mumbled to myself, "Goddamnit," as I clenched my fists in an effort to fend off the waves of disorientation and booze that were consuming my own identity. "Is there something wrong, your honor?" Preston inquired in a low voice as he kept his eyes on the driveway the entire time we were gently parking in front of my mansion. I snap at him, "It's none of your concern, just park," and he immediately complies with my demand. I bolted away from the vehicle the second it stopped moving, slammed the door, and opened the front door. She was there, and when she thanked me for returning home, her face was adorned with a grin that could only be described as dumb and timid. The question is: Shouldn't I be? This place can't even be called a house! She was wearing a very small little dress that appeared to suit her quite beautifully, but I was not up for any of that now. My thoughts began to ring as I struggled to restrain myself from instantly striking out at her. She had on some sort of makeup and had combed through her hair for some reason. "Are you going out?" I questioned her while attempting to control my slurring, and she appeared perplexed when I posed the topic to her. She gave a slight shake of her head, and I slowly backed away from her, attempting to get away from her at this point, when the kitchen was already prepared, and I could hear Moonlight Sonata playing in the background. Have you have something to eat? Julia questioned me, chasing after me like a crazy fan. I paid her no attention and proceeded to make my way toward the bedroom, intent on getting a good night's sleep after the long day I had just finished. I only gave the table in the dining room a quick glance, but in that little time I was able to see that it had steak and that a bucket of champagne was being chilled nearby. That made me a little bit irritated, so I turned to talk to her, and she had suddenly frozen in her tracks, as if she was attempting to make a grab for me. "Did you have someone with you at this time?" In an angry tone, I accused her, "In my own house, you dumb, cheating whore?! " She immediately placed her hands up in the air while stuttering and being unable to get any words out of her lips. "No, it's not that, Benjamin; I did not have any visitors here," the man said. "Then what the heck is this?!" he said. I questioned her fiercely while pointing at the beautifully laid table. My inebriation began to show since I began to wobble from where I stood, but this did not make a difference. It required every ounce of my might to hold myself steady, which is probably due to the fact that I drank much too much. As I started to make my way towards the bedroom, Julia started to follow me again. She was trying to say something, but I could not make out what she was saying; was it because of her own nervousness? I muttered something under my breath that sounded like "Cheating shithead" as I began to make my way towards the bedroom. Because she knew someone was in the home, was she stumbling over her words and shaking? When I entered the bedroom, I turned on the lights and looked about for anything that may have been out of place. When I saw that there was nothing amiss, I glared furiously at her, and she was immediately behind me once more, like some kind of demon dog or something. I attempt to regain my composure by assuring her that whatever you do in your own time is OK. "But for you to cheat on me, to fucking have someone over in MY OWN house, have a lovely little meal while I am out working, trying to put together the best for my company!" "But for you to cheat on me, to fucking have someone over in MY OWN house!" Julia placed her hands up in submission once more, cowed and surprised by the way I talked to her in a very calm voice and the manner in which I presented the information to her. As I attempted to decipher what was going through her mind, she made the ridiculous gesture of lowering her head. As I racked my brain for solutions, it started to go into overdrive and produce more and more errors. "So, what the hell are you looking for, Julia?" I queried her, unable to discover an explanation or any kind of fault in the home, but she did not respond; instead, she just continued to gaze down, staring at the floor like a petulant little girl who had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Are you going to talk or are you not going to speak?!" I demanded fiercely of her while getting closer to her and putting my hands on my hips; she recoiled at the sight of my hands and I had to rein myself in. She spoke in a trembling voice as she began to shed tears as she said, "Today was our 3(rd) year anniversary, Benjamin, and I simply wanted to enjoy it with you."

Julia Forster I could feel his rage boiling up even further, like an animal that had been let loose and was ready to attack and destroy anything and anybody in the area. His eyes were swollen and he was breathing in a ragged and labored manner. It was painful to watch him in this state; despite the fact that he was acting extremely unbecomingly at the moment, he was still my husband. Even though it was a messed up day, it was still a special day, and I wanted to celebrate it, even if it meant having to pretend that I was okay. It would be terrible for him to have a nervous breakdown during our third year of being married to each other. I felt the urge to appease him because it would be terrible for him to have a breakdown during our third year of being married to each other. If I could only get through today, then everything would be all right for me, despite the fact that I was experiencing a whirlwind of sensations that were comprised of every single unfavorable thing that can be thought of. It is possible that some individuals may argue that this is not even the basic minimum; nonetheless, this is irrelevant. When you are put in the middle of hell and unimaginable suffering, you will gladly accept whatever form of happiness you can lay your hands on. Even if doing so requires you to severely harm yourself in the process. “Aug?” I yell out to him, but he still appears to be having difficulty breathing and he glares at me. I could feel the hostility coming from him, and it seemed to be reaching a fever pitch at this very moment, but I had to force myself not to flinch in order to continue the anniversary meal we were having. I didn't even have to ask him what he was thinking about since the grim expression on his face and the way his eyes bulged out told me all that I need to know. It appeared as though he was completely oblivious to the fact that today was intended to be a memorable occasion for the both of us. It would appear that he did not give a damn about anything. "I prepared your favorite food, Filet Mignon cooked at medium rare, some mashed potatoes with garlic powder and white pepper and of course wine. I put all my heart into it, because I know that these are the dishes that you enjoy the most. " I tried to smile through it while keeping my voice steady because I felt like it was about to break, this little illusion in my head is starting to fade out because of his outburst. He snorted, and his breathing slowed down for a little while while he assessed the situation, but he was making every effort to avoid looking at the table in front of him. Was the prospect of having all of his favorite foods arranged in front of him an allure that lured him? Now that he was here, he was staring at the walls of our house and refused to look at the table. "Clean it up, I am not in the mood to eat," he muttered in a chilly tone, his breathing was now normal, and his eyes were glazed over and filled with the aura of a person who just did not care about anything at all. "Just looking at you has made me feel sick to my stomach," said the speaker. My eyes suddenly filled with tears, and I realized that all of the pretense I'd been maintaining about having the strength and fortitude to put up a front was a load of bullshite. Just a few words from my spouse were all it took to deplete and destroy every last bit of my strength and might. A husband who will never stop going out of his way to bring misery to himself and everyone else who is subservient to him. "Even for just a bit… I say, "I wish you could even pretend to be my husband," and he quickly turns his eyes towards me. His eyes are once again enlarged, but his jaw is gripped so tightly that I feel like it's going to break. He questioned in a threatening voice, "What did you say?" His jaws were clenched together as he asked that question because he was so surprised that I had really told him something. "What did you say?" I lied to her by saying, "This is a wonderful day for me, and I just thought that we could at least pretend that everything is good, even if it's only for today." "I hope you would eat even for just a little bit," I said. He walked up to the table in a huff, and as he did so, he yelled, "How about you just shut the fuck up, Julia?! " This was followed by another string of insults and cuss words that were designed to demoralize whoever it was that was the intended target for it. "You continually complain and bemoan the state of things, and the nerve of you to do these things to me when I have provided you with everything you could possibly require! Wealth and prosperity! As he yelled the final phrase, "A home you fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking f The dishes, glasses, and food all promptly fell to the marbled floor after being knocked over. As I heard them collide with one another, my stomach tightened. Steak, potatoes, and even the bottle of wine that I had selected just for him were all jumbled together with shattered shards of glass. He stated this to me in a sarcastic tone, plainly unhappy and furious with me at this point. "I wish you would eat even for just a little bit," he continued. The question was, "What the fuck are you on? You continue to make idiotic statements such as these as if you were some princess living in a fairy tale palace with her prince charming. This is the way things are! People do what they want, you are given that fucking opportunity to do so, and all you do is sit around here and be worthless as fuck!" People do what they want; you are given that fucking opportunity to do so. My tears flowed more freely now that he had pointed his finger at me, but I did my best to remain silent because, inside of me, a tidal wave of emotions is crashing against my heart, and I just wanted to air out everything that is thrashing inside of my body. He pointed his finger at me now, and my tears flowed even more freely than before. He moved closer to me while treading over the remnants of the meal that I had so carefully and attentively prepared for him. I took a few steps backwards after he pushed a finger into my chest, which caused me to be startled. "What's going on? Huh? You constantly put on an act of being shy and innocent, despite the fact that you are well aware, on some level, that this is not who you really are. You are the one responsible for turning me into this! When he spoke those words, I felt my body go numb. After all those years of violence, he was now blaming me for him being the person he is now. What a ridiculous manner for him to direct all of his rage and indecency at me! Throughout this entire period, all I did was wait for him to come around, to maybe be a good spouse for a change, to maybe show a little bit of love and affection, but he was unable to even do that. Because he was so wrapped up in his own world, he most likely began to believe that he had been transformed into this monster by me. He was so immersed in his own world. "Benjamin," I ask him in a trembling voice as he continues to loom over me at this point, "How screwed up in the brain are you?" He became still and then shoved me against the wall while putting his fingers on my throat. "What the fuck did you say?!!" he yelled, all composure leaving his manner. "Are you completely out of your mind?!!" I yell at him, finally releasing all of the pent-up rage and contempt that I've been harboring for all of this time: "I am your wife, you fucking moron! Please don't talk to me like I'm not a human being and don't treat me like an animal. Despite the fact that you would chase other ladies around like someone who was so desperate for love, I still live, I still breathe, and I still get things done around the house. When I am at home, I am unable to maintain the momentum of my anger, and I start to spiral directly into sadness. "It always has to be like this, for some messed up reason you think we always have to be at odds with each other, when we could just as easily make peace with one another," I sobbed. "It always has to be like this." You're supposed to be my spouse, you moron, when are you finally going to start behaving like one after we've been together for three years?!!" As he started to think about various aspects of himself, he started to breathe deeply, and his grasp on my throat began to ease somewhat. But I could still sense his resentment and fury against me, and he was not the type of person who should have been spoken to in such a condescending manner. It was not consistent with his way of life. I could feel him tugging at the bottom of my dress, and with very little effort, the fabric tore vertically. It was a bit awkward when the icy breeze from the air conditioner brushed across my breasts because I was wearing nothing on them. "Is this what you've been looking for?" Benjamin said something to me in a low growl while he looked me straight in the eyes as he spoke. A few seconds later, I could feel his lips frantically pushing against mine. I smiled.

Julia Forster When my spouse kissed me while I was nude and bare chested in front of him, I couldn't help but feel a warm warmth go through my veins. I tried to stop him from aggressively touching me by putting my hands on his shoulders, but he continued to grab at me. He didn't waste any time and proceeded to caress me when he knocked it away. Still with his mouth pressed firmly on mine, I could feel him picking at my lips and sticking his tongue in between them as though he was starving for me. "Would You Please..." I murmur something while attempting to push him away, but he insists on pressing himself against me and intensifies the kiss that he's giving me. "Benjamin, please, this is not the appropriate moment," "It is always the appropriate time." Benjamin whispered something to me as he began to come closer to my breasts. As he did so, he flicked his tongue on my nipple and sucked at it in the same way that a newborn baby would hanker after its mother's milk. My feelings were all over the place; I was furious and bitter, yet my barriers were slowly falling apart in the face of his advances. The pleasant sensation had morphed into something much more intense. The way he walked and held himself throughout this agony was similar to that of a ferocious beast that was slowly and painfully consuming its victim. He was like an animal that was in its breeding season. Because this was such a rare moment of sensuality from my spouse, I could feel my groin getting wet and shaking as it did so. It longed to be pleased, but I fought against it and stifled these sensations since I was so angry at him for spoiling our anniversary. It yearned to be satisfied, but I fought against it. But his lips were enticing, and his tongue darted deftly on my breast, nipping and licking at the correct areas in the right places. I mumbled to Benjamin as he continued to stroke my breasts with increasing intensity, "Please, this does not seem right." He stopped almost immediately and looked up at me, saying, "Really? You did just suggest that I should watch what I eat, right? He put his hands on my crotch and started rubbing his fingers against it as he let out a growl that reverberated with pleasure and need. Benjamin murmured something to the effect of "It does not seem right, but you are wetter than a stray dog underneath the pouring rain" as he rubbed my clit through the fabric of my frock. He got down on one knee, and I let out a gasp as I saw him place his head below it, and then began using his lips on it. The way that his tongue moved against my vagina sent shivers of pleasure all over my body. He was licking my clitoris with ferocity as he was using his fingers to penetrate me, and it caused my body to tremble with pleasure. It was a pleasure that I had not had in a very long time, and there were components of me that wanted to give in to him for the time being. I did remark that I needed to be happy even on this day, but another part of me wanted to scold him for doing this especially after we had been arguing earlier in the day. I said that I needed to be happy even on this day. I came to the conclusion that giving in to him right now, if only for the duration of this one night, would be well worth it. Was it this time that I was the one who had my head screwed on? After all of these years of being mistreated and having my pain ignored, I suddenly came to the conclusion that I would offer my body to the same person who had been the source of all of my pain for no other reason than the fact that he was furious at the entire world. It didn't make a difference anymore; what did make a difference was the fact that he was ready to go through this with me, even if it was a jokey event; who knows, maybe he'll be different after this. Who is to say. I put my hands on top of his head and pushed him deeper into my crotch. I heard him give a small giggle from below my dress. He altered the motions, and this time it was his tongue that was piercing me. I put my hands on top of his head and pushed him further into my crotch. I could feel his scaly appendage twisting and turning inside of me, and I could feel him pressing against the walls of my pussy. Consuming the bodily fluids that my body is continuously producing at this point by slurping and sucking them up. I tremble against his pleasure-filled tongue that is contained within me and mumble, "Oh Benjamin." I wanted to wrap my head around his head and keep him there for all of eternity, but I knew it would certainly cause him to choke and die. Instantaneously, he got up from his kneeling posture below me and came to stand at eye level with me. He commanded me to "Taste yourself, Julia," and then he swiftly buried his lips on mine; I passionately returned the kiss to him. When he slipped his tongue into my mouth, I met it with mine, and that's when I realized I was tasting myself in him. They were dancing against each other, exchanging kisses and tastes as they did so. It was bliss, a rush of pleasure that I had been waiting for all of this time, and it finally came to me. He removed me from my legs with a second motion and carried me effortlessly in his arms. He stepped over the mess that he had left in the dining room and brought me into the living room. We continued to kiss one other as we moved from one place to another, never taking our lips off of the other. Because it was such a unique opportunity for me to witness him in this state, I resolved to make the most of every second of it, regardless of what transpired. He sat me down on the sofa and instructed me to bend over the crest rails of the furniture, which I did as he instructed. Benjamin told me to "Stay like that," and I immediately agreed. Both of my arms were resting on the side of the sofa, and I was bending down to make room for him. "Now spread your legs," Benjamin said, and I did so for him as I heard him unbuckle his belt. "You going to make me wait?" I ask him in jest, and he gives me a grin, and then... I felt it. After what seemed like an eternity, I was finally able to enjoy having him and his presence inside of me. His rough member was inside of me, and it was slamming furiously against me. It squeezed and strained my vagina, which caused it to tighten and spasm as I attempted to take him in completely. It was a beautiful feeling that I haven't had in a long, my husband viewing me as a wife for once and pleasuring me freely on a couch. Benjamin groaned as he continued to pound me doggy style on the couch. "That's right." "Harder, harder, faster, deeper, please," I urge him, and he confirms it by increasing the tempo of his thrusts; he speared me like an old-fashioned fisherman would have speared a shark in the past, which was heavy and deep. "Harder, harder, faster, deeper, please," I implore him. It seemed like his thing was growing inside of me, and it was getting bigger for some reason or maybe it was just my imagination. However, it gave the impression that it was going to rip me apart completely. My knees and arms were on the verge of collapsing as a result of the pressure that was being placed on them by the sofa as well as the force that he was applying to me from behind. All I could do was cling to the couch for dear life while he did it to me from behind. "Face me," he said, pulling away from me as I turned to gaze at him. He flashed a sinister grin in my direction as he pinned me to the sofa and continued to hold me there. He said something to the effect of "Spread your legs, Julia," and I quickly obliged, spreading and stretching my legs to the furthest extent that I could. It got to the point where my feet were almost to the levels of my ear at the moment when he put himself on me now, his arms were on my legs as he entered me, and he pushed himself on me as he entered me. This one was distinct from what we had done in the past. This time, I was able to sense him considerably more than I normally do. It was for fuck's sake that he was striking the end of my own vagina, and it was because of this that I started to feel a climax coming on. Something inside of me was on the verge of exploding, yet Benjamin continued to pump. It felt like a balloon that was being quickly and forcefully inflated by air. "I see you're about to cum," he said in a low growl, gazing me in the eyes. I nodded silently, confirming this since that pleasant feeling was spreading to my toes. "I see you're about to cum," he added in a low growl. "I see you're about to cum." "Then take it out on me!" Instantaneously, I was overcome with confusion, and a sensation as if a bomb had detonated inside of me, followed by tremors that spread throughout my body. As I got closer, I couldn't help but let out a cry of pure joy. Suddenly, I realized that he was straining; his face was twisted up as if he was trying to suppress something, but he groaned and shivered. I couldn't help but shout in pure ecstasy. I felt something thick and warm shoot inside of me, and when I combined that sensation with the peak experience I was feeling at the time, Benjamin and I came together, and he continued going, splattering his sperm all over the couch as it overflowed my body. A sexual encounter lasting one hour. That is exactly what transpired. After a few moments had passed, I was lying down on the couch when I attempted to reach out to him for a hug while mumbling his name half asleep. He muttered an annoyed sound and moved my hand away from him as he stood up. I was instantly jolted awake by his comments, "So easy to use, so easy to break, what a slut you've become, Julia," he said these words with a sneer on his face as he said them. "Quite a harlot," he said with venom in his voice. "So easy to use, so easy to break, what a slut you've become, Julia." Right away, I was hit by a wave of melancholy, which made perfect sense given it was. What sort of an idiot I was to assume that he wanted to make love to me when in reality he was just trying to get rid of his carnal urges and I was the one who was being the fool. During the time that I was lying there weeping, Benjamin went upstairs without saying another thing.