We'd had a two-acre lot when we lived up north and I'd had a large steel outbuilding that held my metal shop. There was more than forty thousand dollars in equipment there—a lathe, kiln, belt sander, and smelting furnace among other things. I had kept the equipment when we moved, but now it was secure in a rental storage unit.

There were several businesses, mostly tradesmen who used these facilities as their headquarters. I had fastened sheets of asbestos onto the walls and ceiling near the kiln and furnace. Asbestos is illegal in the United States, but it can be bought in Canada and Mexico. I had bought mine in Canada and had it shipped into the U.S. along with my new lathe. The sheets of asbestos--carefully placed between two thin sheets of plywood--formed the floor and walls of the crate. Illegal? Absolutely--but essential in setting up my workshop--without it my smelting furnace would no doubt burn the entire structure to the ground. Besides...asbestos is only hazardous when it's airborne through sanding or drilling or separation caused by water damage.

I must have used the "lost wax" process a couple of hundred times to make parts for machines large and small over the years. Making a new wrench for this device would be a breeze. Once in my workshop I took some heavy 40-weight paper and cut it to size—about three inches high by one and a half wide--taping the ends together to form a small cylinder just wide enough to cover the bolt head. Then I marked all the way around the cylinder about a quarter inch from the bottom. I carefully cut six tabs from the bottom up to the line and bent them outwards. I glued these strips to the cock cage, sealing the spaces between them with additional glue.

I lit the smelting furnace, but kept the temperature low. In minutes a ladle filled with cubes of wax was heated and the wax completely melted. I knew this was going to be awkward and I had no desire to be burned so I took an old rag and wrapped it around the cylinder several times. Finally, I carefully poured the wax in, filling the cylinder completely. It hardened almost immediately. After waiting about five minutes I cut the tape with a razor knife and unwound the paper leaving a cylinder of solid wax with the exact imprint of the bolt's head.

This cylinder I quickly coated with finely powdered ceramic and dunked it into what is commonly known in the trade as a suspension of ceramic sand. That was as far as I could go today. By tomorrow at this time the ceramic sand would have formed a layer thick enough to dry and bake in the kiln. It would serve well as the mold for the new wrench. I was sure that the wrench that had come from Steelwerks was stainless, just like the cage, but that would be designed to last through many uses. Mine would only have to work once or, as I thought about it, maybe twice.

& gt; & gt; & gt; & gt; & gt; & gt;

I was finished by noon so I decided to go out for lunch. I found a nice barbeque place in town where I ordered a platter of pulled pork, hushpuppies, and fries. The waitress brought me a huge cup of un-sweet iced tea and five minutes later my lunch was on the table. I ate leisurely while I contemplated the end of my marriage—almost thirty years down the drain. Ruth—you stupid fucking bitch!

Fortunately, she was gone when I returned at one. I thought at the time that she'd probably go to her lover. I should have phoned Joe to have her followed, but I'd probably have enough information by tomorrow morning when Ruth was scheduled for her next lesson. I thought of things I'd have to do—bank accounts, credit cards, locksmith to change the locks on the doors, change the alarm code and the garage door opener. Damn, there was a lot. The worst and hardest would be telling our two daughters. Both were happily married, or I thought they were, but who really knew. They'd take the news hard, of that I was certain.

A couple of beers helped to take the edge off of my feelings and soon enough I fell asleep. I usually sleep soundly, but this afternoon it was fitful. I awoke with a start to find that the sun had set. I wasn't terribly hungry; truth was I hadn't eaten or slept well since I had learned about Ruth's infidelity. I made a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches and watched a ballgame until it was time for bed. Then I remembered the AV system that Joe had installed.

I went into the home office and typed in the site's URL, followed by my user name and password. There in front of me was a screen full of my house's rooms. Starting with the kitchen I found Wednesday night at 7:15. I could clearly see Ruth adding the drug to my brandy. I trotted into the kitchen and checked the cabinet. Damn—that woman was an idiot! The bottle was still where she had put it. I was careful not to touch it as I examined it closely.

I changed to the master bedroom and my shitty day went straight downhill. I sat fuming as I watched that asshole Gary Orton fuck my wife on my bed. That would be one more thing to do—get a new mattress. As I checked the other rooms I learned that Orton had actually been in the guest room during dinner and had helped Ruth apply the cock cage once I was unconscious. I thought that the Sheriff might find that interesting. I slept in the guest room, but not well. All the same, I was up early Saturday morning. I had an appointment to meet with Joe Mullin in the country club parking lot at 9:45. I wouldn't miss that for the world.

& gt; & gt; & gt; & gt; & gt; & gt;

Joe was in his car off to the side of the main building when I joined him. He had a tablet in his lap and was looking at a view of the storeroom. The picture was as clear as day. "What will happen if they find the camera?"

"I'm sure they will. The cover story is that the board wanted to install some carbon monoxide detectors throughout the building. There are eight others—real detectors—but this one obviously isn't. I went over all of this with the other board members. They thought it was a great idea. I wonder how great they'll think it is once you sue them."

"Sean has everything prepared. All we need is the video. How does this save the file?"

"All I have to do is press this 'button' on the touch screen. I'll do that as soon as I see someone in the room. Okay, here they are. That's Orton in the blue shirt and the other one is Steve Wilson. You know, you don't really have to watch. I don't know how you'll be able to face her once you do."

"That's okay: I've already seen them in action and I won't have to see her. She drugged me Thursday night, tied me to the bed then she and Orton put me into a stainless steel cock cage."

"How are you going to get out of it? Does she have the key?"

"Actually, it's a wrench. She told me she gave it to a 'friend' so I have to assume that Orton has it. I'm working on it as we sit here. I'll probably have it done by tomorrow afternoon."

On screen they had begun to undress. Joe pointed to Orton's neck. "Is that it?"

"Looks like it. Yeah, I'm pretty sure. It looks a lot like the one I'm making, so yeah that's it."

We watched in silence as Orton lay on the table. Soon Ruth sat onto his cock. I was secretly pleased to see that neither of these men was as large as me. We saw Wilson rub some lube on Ruth's asshole and a minute or so later he was fucking her ass.

"We're going to need a few more deputies come Monday, Martin. That's sodomy. It's a law that's rarely enforced any longer, but I think it's still on the books. I can hardly wait to see these assholes led away through the clubhouse in handcuffs. I'll be sure to get video of that, too."

I watched until I saw the third guy enter—Downey, I thought. He wasted no time in shoving his cock down Ruth's throat. I'd seen enough. Joe assured me that he'd have everything covered for Monday morning when I prayed this nightmare would be over.

The rest of the weekend was a mess, but one thing I didn't do was cry. This was something that Ruth had done without giving me even a second's thought or consideration. The whole thing was on her. Why should I waste tears on someone who had deliberately thrown our marriage away. I could understand and even accept a one-time "mistake," but this was unforgiveable.

After leaving Joe I drove to my workshop in the storage center. Sure enough, the ceramic sand was thick enough to serve as a mold. I set it onto a shelf in the kiln, turning the temperature to 200 degrees. This wouldn't bake the ceramic, but it would assure that the shell was completely dry. I turned it off an hour later, opening the kiln only when the internal temperature matched that in the storage area.

Using a drill press I carefully drilled a three-sixteenths hole through the ceramic about one half inch from the top then filled in the outside part of each hole with ceramic sand. This hole would form a handle for the wrench once I had poured the iron into it.

I spoke to Sean briefly on Sunday morning to tell him about the sodomy. "We can't have them arrested for that. The U.S. Supreme Court ruled in 2003 that those laws were unconstitutional. What we can do is get them for disturbing the peace, public lewdness, and indecent exposure. There's no expectation of privacy in a public storeroom." He laughed when I told him about the video from my house. "That's too good to be true. They are really idiots. Don't change the sheets on the bed. They will have Orton's and Ruth's DNA on them. The case against them will be airtight. Oh...sorry!"

"Don't be. I'll be glad to give Ruth the screwing she's been giving me. I think she'll be in for a few surprises."

"Yeah...big ones."

Joe had taken the video to the sheriff on Saturday afternoon. He agreed to send four deputies and one woman to handle the service of the papers and the arrests on Monday morning. I wouldn't miss this for the world.

I skipped church on Sunday morning to bake the mold in my kiln. I placed the ceramic mold upside down on a wire mesh screen with a cast iron crucible directly underneath. The wax melted into the crucible, evacuating the mold--thus, the "lost wax." I read a good book while the kiln automatically heated up and then slowly cooled back down. Even then I waited for another hour before opening the door. The mold was perfect.

I had started the smelting furnace once the kiln had shut down. This storage area had limited ventilation and it could handle only so much heat. Even leaving the garage-style door open the room temperature was well over one hundred degrees.

The mold was carefully placed into a spring clamp that would hold it in place when I poured the molten iron into it. Using heavy insulated gloves I removed the ladle holding the molten iron. I rested it on the mold for a few minutes to warm it. I'd learned decades ago never to pour hot metal into a cold mold. Doing so could cause the metal to splatter back out of the mold, probably onto my face or body.

After two minutes I lifted the ladle and carefully poured. The mold wasn't all that big so I was done in seconds. I placed the cast iron implement onto a stand to cool. I would remove the iron easily then.

I knew from experience that the iron would be cool enough to remove it from the mold in about fifteen minutes, but I waited thirty to be sure. Then I turned the mold on its side and shattered it with a hammer. Dropping my shorts and boxers I pushed the wrench into the bolt and turned. Once that was done I used it on the second bolt on the rectangle that had held my balls captive.

I had my freedom, but not for long. I had already decided to replace it before Monday's raid. Thus, the sexual battery charges against Ruth and Orton would stick. I was pretty sure that he would have the wrench on the chain around his neck tomorrow. I was also pretty sure that was how he was demonstrating to Ruth his superiority over me.

& gt; & gt; & gt; & gt; & gt; & gt;

That afternoon I debated making the two most difficult phone calls I'd ever have to make—calls to our daughters to tell them of their mother's betrayal of our vows. After some thought I decided to wait until Monday afternoon after the arrests and after she had been served.

I slept better that night, but not well. However, I was up early Monday morning—early enough to go out for breakfast. I wound up at Denny's, a restaurant I only go to for breakfast. I finished in plenty of time and left a big tip. I was feeling great. Everything would come to an end this morning.

I met with Joe and Sean, the sheriff's deputies, and a professional process server in the club's maintenance lot where we wouldn't be noticed. Joe had the tablet on and we could see the storeroom. We moved once we had seen the three naked men and my naked wife. The looks on the members as we pulled up in front of the entrance and walked briskly through the lobby were incredible. Two deputies went into the pro shop to block that door. Joe led the rest of us to the hallway. We were all surprised when the door opened as soon as he tried to turn the knob. The deputies nodded to each other knowingly. They led the way with Sean, Joe, the process server, and me trailing behind. Joe had his video camera running when we strolled in. They were into the sex so intently that they didn't notice until we were all about ten feet away. Then Ruth screamed and the three men scrambled up and away. Of course, they didn't get far. They were naked and handcuffed when the process server stepped forward and asked, "Mrs. Ruth Gates?"


"You are served." He tucked the large manila envelope under her arm.

"Mr. Gary Orton? Mr. Steven Wilson? Mr. Mark Downey? You are served." Blankets were secured around their bodies with safety pins and they were led out of the building to the amazement of the members present. With the permission of the deputies I removed the wrench from Orton's neck. I removed the cock cage in their presence and they took it with them as evidence. Once they had gone Joe, Sean, the process server and I walked into the club's business office.

Bob Harris, the club president was seated at his desk when we walked in. "Hi, Joe...what's up?"

Joe remained silent, but a minute later he had admitted his identity and received the lawsuit. "What is this, Joe?"

"Mr. Gates is suing the club for damages. Gary Orton, Steve Wilson, and Mark Downey were just arrested along with Mrs. Gates. She and Orton will be charged with several felonies in regard to their treatment of Mr. Gates. Orton seduced Mrs. Gates and they've been having sexual relations in the storeroom along with Wilson and Downey—a foursome, if you will. I warned the board about Orton, but you wouldn't listen. Failure to take action is willful negligence. Now the club is going to pay." I'd heard enough. I turned to leave and Joe and Sean joined me. I couldn't help myself; I laughed like crazy. This entire situation was just absurd.

Sean had made arrangements for the Sheriff's investigative team to pick up the drug bottle from my kitchen cabinet and the sheets from my bed. I had also given them the videos from Thursday night and Friday morning. They vacuumed my master bedroom floor and took fingerprints from the tables and furniture. They also found several soiled tissues with semen on them in the bathroom.

I saw that the time was 5:30 so I reluctantly picked up my cell phone to call my daughter Marlene--Marley. She had trouble believing what I told her. She cried when I told her about the divorce and wailed when I told her that her mother had been arrested and why. "Do you have to do that, Daddy?"

"Unfortunately, I do. Not only did she have a humiliating affair with the head golf pro, but she gave me gonorrhea. To make matters worse she drugged me, tied me to our bed, and placed a male chastity device on me. My attorney tells me that she could be charged with kidnapping as well as sexual battery, unlawful detention and whatever else the district attorney decides to throw at her. She's in the county jail I would imagine and I plan to leave her there." There was more crying, but by the end she told me that she loved me and that she hated what her mother had done. Once I had ended the call I had to do it all over again with Abby who was two years younger than her sister. Nice going, Ruth—you just tore our family's hearts apart. We'd never be the same again.

& gt; & gt; & gt; & gt; & gt; & gt;

I slept better that evening, but I was still in the guest room. First thing next morning found me at a local mattress store. They promised me delivery tomorrow morning and removal of the old mattress and box spring. My next stop was a locksmith who agreed to install new locks tomorrow morning, too. I cancelled Ruth's credit cards and ended her cell phone contract even though I had to pay a penalty.

My new mattress and the new locks were delivered and installed as promised. I doubted that Ruth would have access to our house anytime soon, but who knew where her purse and keys had been over the past weeks? Better to be safe than sorry.

I phoned the county jail after lunch about visiting hours. At four o'clock on the dot I entered the visitors' room and signed in. Then I waited until I was called. After putting everything but my ID into a locker I passed through a metal detector into the room. I sat on one side of a long counter. The inmates sat on the other. About ten minutes later Ruth entered wearing one of those ugly orange jump suits.

She sat opposite me, but her first words were anything but contrite. "How could you? How could you humiliate me like that?"

"Ruth, you have to be delusional. I sat in the bar two consecutive weeks listening to those assholes talk about Orton fucking you and how they were going to join in. If that wasn't enough you gave me some fucking STD. Why did you think I was doing all that jerking off? There was no way I was sticking my cock into that diseased cunt of yours. I've been taking a combination of drugs for more than two weeks and I'm still not cured. Then you had to drug me, tie me up and put that monstrosity on me. My attorney says you're in a shitload of trouble."

"Well, you can still bail me out. They told me I'll be arraigned Thursday morning."

"I'll go to the arraignment, but hell will freeze over before I provide bail. Oh, by the way, your daughters are really pissed at you."

"You just don't give up, do you? Why don't you just ruin my life?"

"I can't believe this. You're the one fucking someone outside your marriage. You're the one who has humiliated me. You're the one who has given me, Wilson and his wife and Downey and his wife, and God only knows how many others gonorrhea, and you have the nerve to blame me. I'm going to ask to have you see a psychiatrist. I think you're mentally ill."

"Well, for your information Gary is in love with me."

"Yeah, and that's why he pimped you out to his buddies. If that isn't true love I don't know what is. For your information, you are the third married woman he's had an affair with just this year and you're twenty years older than he is."

"That doesn't matter. None of that matters. I happen to know that Virginia is a no-fault state. I'll get half of our assets regardless of what you say or do."

I chuckled quietly. I could see that Ruth had lost her bravado. "That's what I thought, too, but this state has some interesting thoughts about adultery. I have video of you and your pals both Saturday and Monday at the club and I have video of you and Orton twice at our house plus I have you on video drugging my brandy and the two of you locking that horrible thing onto my body. According to Sean, my lawyer, you'll be lucky to see thirty percent. He also says I can sue you for drugging me and the rest of that shit you did to me. I think you'll be lucky to get anything. But, don't worry; you're getting free room and board for a few years, at least.

"I won't be back, Ruth. After this conversation there's no reason for me to ever see you again." I rose and walked away, turning my back on someone who had meant everything to me for almost thirty years.











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