Peter Jensen - The blackmailed mother book I

"I'm afraid so."

"What… what did you do?" Roger gasped.

"Oh, I was beset with indecision. You see, my wife didn't know that I knew what she'd been doing. I wasn't about to tell her and perhaps ruin my marriage. Neither could I see coming to you… then. What could you do for me?" He groaned in humiliation. "Neither could I bring myself to subvert the company I've given so many of my years to. It was horrible. A nightmare."

"And?" Carmel was almost rocking on his stool with shock.

"I hired a private eye. I told him what the problem was, blurted out the whole sordid mess. I wanted him to first of all confirm what this sonofabitch was telling me about my wife was true, and then take whatever means short of murder to get back the proof. Once I had the proof of my wife's infidelity, then this bastard wouldn't have a hold on me… or so I figured… and I could tell Cylvia that I knew what she'd done, and what her… mistake had almost caused. I'd forgive her, and I believe that she'd understand her foolishness and never do such a thing again, once she understood she'd been doped."

"Martin, you poor man," Carmel sympathized.

"Wait, there's more." Oliss shuddered, as if the worst was yet to come – and for Roger Carmel, it was. "I… got a report from the detective late last week. No, Monday it was. Christ, this thing has me so shaken up, I can barely keep the days straight. Anyway, he confirmed that this cocksman had indeed been sleeping with my wife, that he'd followed him and Cylvia to a string of motels and a couple of times… in my own house." Tears nearly welled in Oliss' eyes as he poured forth his tale in choking words. "My… own house! My… marital bed, de-defiled by this bastard!"

"Martin," Carmel soothed. "Get hold of yourself."

"I… asked him to see what he could do about the proof, and he said it might be wiser for him to dig up some dirt on the man – you know, an eye for an eye kind of thing. He called me after lunch today, just before we left, Roger, with the most disturbing news of all. It… it seems as though this bastard has decided to make sure he gets the miniskopos plans, since I haven't helped him any."

"How? What more could he do?"

"He's…" And here Oliss paused dramatically. "He's seduced another man's wife. One… oh, shit, Roger, he may be fucking Lonnie, too."

"Lonnie?" Carmel staggered under the impact. "My wife?"

"I'm afraid so, Roger. I… hate telling you this, but it looks as though we're in the same boat together."

"But are you sure it's Lonnie? I can't believe it!"

"I couldn't believe it about Cylvia, either," Oliss said sadly. "But in all fairness, I'll tell you that by the description my detective gave and the other facts he learned, I'm almost positive it's Lonnie."

"But you're not sure!" Carmel demanded, grasping at straws.

"Ninety percent positive, Roger. I ordered my detective to find out without a shadow of a doubt and call me here sometime tomorrow or Sunday."

"No man's come to me," Carmel blustered.

"Evidently he just… started with your wife. He'll be by to see you, just as he came to see me. A matter of time."

Carmel's mind whirled disconcertedly. What Oliss was telling him was the most wild, inconceivable story he'd ever heard! Lonnie would never… but then, he wasn't home much, and women are prone… no, no…! It was ridiculous…! absurd… the detective must have another woman mixed up with his wife. He knew Lonnie; she was strictly a one-man female, and she'd never…

"I know what you're thinking, Roger," Oliss said glumly. "Same thing I kept telling myself until I was shown by the detective that what I had been told was true. You're thinking I'm crazy, or that this affair has made me see ghosts in every corner. I wish that were true, friend; I wish I didn't have to tell you this."

Carmel shook his head, numb to his bones. "I don't believe it."

"Don't," Oliss suggested. "It's probably better if you forget what I told you altogether."

"But how can I?" Carmel cried. "My wife! For God's sake!"

"Yes, your wife and mine," Oliss pressed on, his voice calm and low now, well hiding his inner elation, his satisfaction and sadistic pleasure at seeing Carmel shaken to thievery core of his soul. Good… good… and after a day or so of torment, he'll be ripe for the final phase of my plan. And then… He had a hard time keeping a straight face as he added: "And we're going to have to do something about it, too!"

"My God, my God… what?" Confused, unready to accept the fact of his wife's infidelity, Roger Carmel swallowed his scotch and ordered another one straight and almost dementedly turned to Martin Oliss for help. His whole, wonderful world was teetering from extinction by the slender thread that what Oliss and the detective said were mistakes, and that Lonnie was not letting another man touch her. But Oliss was so insistent! So damnably sure!

"Well, there's nothing either of us can do until the detective calls," Oliss said. "Then we'll know for sure whether your wife is involved as mine is. Then… well, then perhaps we should go back."

"Go back…" Carmel moaned abjectly. Go back to what? A torn fabric of his love and happiness? And yet, he couldn't stay away, not fight for what he considered the most important objects in his life, his wife and home. Go back echoed through his brain. Christ, could he sit it out until the phone call? He'd go mad! Stark, staring, raving imbicilic! He downed the shot in one gulp.

"If it isn't Lonnie," Oliss continued, "I imagine I will make the best of it… alone. But if it is…" He let the nameless terror seep deeper into Carmel's stricken mind. Damned right it was going to be both, he thought demonically. Both – in some perverted bacchanal… and it won't be any imaginary detective passing on the news, but my sweet whore of a wife on the phone. I wonder what the hell my luscious twin cunts are up to now, anyway?

The lewd projection of Cylvia and Tamera Oliss in wild and licentious abandonment as strange cocks and mouths fucked their wits silly made his cock leap. And then the further image of Carmel's wife and daughter getting the same orgiastic treatment, whether to their delight or anguish, made his penis bloat with lust and press against his pants painfully. Soon… soon I'll know, and soon after that I'll be participating. And who the hell knows? Maybe old stick-in-the-mud Carmel will, too. For the first time in his idyllic marriage, Roger Carmel began to question its solidarity, and the values which he and it were living by. Had he been so inconsiderate a husband to let Lonnie fall prey to this Latin lover Oliss was telling him about? Was he that shallow a man as to not know how to hold her fidelity? He was beginning to think he didn't know. He loved Lonnie and Jennifer with all his heart, and in spite of what the detective would report, he knew that he would try to repair his marriage with the same panicked desire that Martin Oliss evinced. He couldn't leave Lonnie… would she leave him? Was her desires now changed and she no longer wanted him around? Is that what prompted her actions – if that indeed is what was happening.

If… if… The poisonous word berated his tortured soul. The next day or so would be a nightmare, and he knew that the only way he'd find sleep tonight was to drink himself unconscious. Thank God for the few drinks he'd had – without them I'd have gone completely to pieces. Roger Carmel slumped to the bar, utterly dejected, his brain a cauldron of agony and fears. He never noticed as Martin Oliss peered down on him with a sadistically triumphant leer twisting his lips and mustache.

Lonnie Carmel couldn't believe her ears! Stunned senseless, she turned to the woman she'd always considered her best friend, and wailed: "Cylvia! Noooooo!" Tears steeped her eyes in a bath of agony and fears. "Noooooooooo!"