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I got the papers in the mail, the final divorce decree. I had been doing pretty well but this threw me for a loop. Then to make matters worse I saw them. My husband and his slut were walking arm in arm through Wal-mart. I turned the corner and there they were. It was too much. It hurt so bad to know that you have been replaced, to see that you are an old, ugly worthless piece of shit. I went home tured off the lights, crawled into bed and fell asleep.I had a bad nightmare. I thought my husband was cutting me up a piece at a time and throwing me in the trash can. I was crying, pleading, begging my smiling husband not to. His new wife was in her wedding dress and kept saying, "Dear I asked you to take out the trash." NO you can't, stop STOP cutting me!" I shrieked out in my fevered dream.Suddenly I was awake.A man was holding me, pressed tight against me. I could smell him, feel his hot beath. I was wrapped up tight in his strong arms as he kissed the back of my neck and gently. ---Sunday evening came again, and the knock at the door was right on time - 8 PM sharp. Laura, Linda and Lana were, like the previous week, each in a bathrobe. Pete ushered them into the parlor to the circle of chairs. As always, there were four chairs arranged around a small table with a box of tissue on it, along with a large, oval wooden hairbrush - three kitchen chairs for the girls, with cushions on each, plus a large oak chair for Pete.When everyone was seated, Pete cleared his throat and began to speak."Girls, I think we all now know that what we are doing has gone beyond just keeping order between the three of you as roommates. I think you all know that you each derive no small amount of pleasure from being spanked, don't you?"He paused. The three girls each blushed as one, looked back and forth at each other, then turned to Pete and nodded."I think there's nothing wrong with that at all. But I do think we can't ignore the disciplinary aspects of what we're doing. So, who has.
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