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The Adjustment Service

The Adjustment Service
By Milly Dynamite


The man entered the small cubical and started straight into his story.


I had tried to figure out, when it all went to pieces. When did love, that wonderful, all encompassing, totally into her feeling turn to a compulsive terrible, want to rip her throat out, can’t stand the sight of her, urge to chuck it all and leave – hate? It wasn’t rapid it took several years. In our seventh year of marriage at the ripe old age of 29, I was too repulsed to even be around the bitch. The irony of the seventh year does not escape me either. I had friends all tell me that love doesn’t last. Don’t get married, sooner or later you will hate her guts. I thought they were full of shit, but it was I who was wrong.

My wife has always been one of those, ‘WOMEN,’ before she was even a woman she was one of those ‘GIRLS.’ You know the type, that beauty with her perfect, blonde hair pulled back tight, her nose always stuck in the air, viewing others down that cute button nose, and looking unapprovingly at the rest of the world. Carrying herself as if she possessed the world while everyone else was something, lesser, than she. Nothing was ever good enough for her and I always suspected we dated only because we were the most popular people in our class. We stayed together through college resisting getting married, and even sex, until we both graduated and had good jobs. She was an illustrator for a major fashion magazine and I as a submission editor for a major publishing company.

I went to work on my great novel, it’s still on my computer somewhere. While she moved through her company like wildfire. Climbing in a few short years to be the head illustrator responsible for the look of the publication, both in print and on the web. In my own profession, I have done poorly. I am still, in what amounts to an entry level position as a submission editor. I read books that are submitted by new authors and pass those that are noteworthy to the next editor. The next editor makes the final decision as to what work is passed on to the committee that makes the decision if it is published or not.

It is, at best, a boring job. Even so, as awful as most of the stories are, many of them, with some help and encouragement, could be worthy of publishing. I’m stuck in my job because I like writers and try to encourage them passing on stories that don’t have a shot at publication. I also send manuscripts back to authors with notes on how to improve them and resubmit. I was told that wasn’t my job and to stop doing it. My last review consisted of three words, ‘Competent nothing more.’ That is a large part of the problem, mere competence is not enough for my employers, or her. As Sharon advanced I stayed stuck in the mud in my work, stagnation set in with my writing, the few short stories I managed to get published were never reviewed in a good light.

Her own self-importance escalated driving her already egotistical view of herself higher while her view of me diminished. In the fourth year of our marriage, she started to criticize me, nagging me with comments about inadequacies in efforts. In the fifth year, our lovemaking slowed to a few times a month. After lovemaking, she would cut me to the bone with comments about competence. Those comments changed to incompetence, and over time to disparaging, emasculating insults. By the seventh year, we made love no more. I knew she had a lawyer and soon would leave me. I had grown to hate the ground where she walked.

A six-months before the adjustment she moved me to a spare bedroom and that was when I decided enough was enough. I had a friend who I confided in and he made an offhand remark I should have someone rape her while I watched. In my mind I rolled it around, have some big dicked, madman, fuck the shit of her. Humiliate her, degrade her, force the snotty, conceited, arrogant bitch to do the most debasing, acts to please him. In doing so her confidence would be shattered, her self-worth destroyed, bringing her down in such a way that it would possible that my value would rise.

Of course, she couldn’t know I was a part of it. She couldn’t even know I watched it all happen. I knew my wife allowing anyone to know anything embarrassing about her, well she wasn’t capable of that. If Sharon were raped she couldn’t tell anyone about, her nature wouldn’t allow it. It was perfect I just had to find the right guy. Sitting in the bar with James that night the conversation took a dark turn. I moved from victim to the atrocious plotter.

“Jim, what if I wanted to have her raped, how would I even go about that?” I filled his mug from our pitcher then mine. Holding up a finger as the waitress moved by I pointed down to the mug and she nodded.

“I know a guy. I have to be honest he is brutal. You remember when Annie and I went through that awkward patch several years ago. I thought she was in an affair? Well, she wasn’t but I didn’t realize that till later. I knew this guy, he always liked my wife’s body. I knew him from back in college he had a reputation of taking what he wanted, you know what I mean. It wasn’t a secret, but no woman would ever report him, they were, well they thought he might kill them if they did.” Looking around he lowered his voice, “They were right on that.”

“He is a professional now, not at rape. He works for some guys, you know wise guys. He has the perfect cover as well.” He drank his beer down as the waitress replaced our pitcher and took the empty. “On the side he has a small but profitable business. He puts wayward wife’s and husband straight, for a price. Cost me three thousand but she is a good woman now and when she starts to get out of line I watch the video. That gets my backbone up allowing me to treat her just a harsh in the right way. I make her do something vile against her will, she is a good girl after that. She doesn’t have a clue I know. He mad her do something that if I make her do the thing I thin it triggers all the humiliation and shame. She acts like an angle after that.” Again he looked around the room. “Well,” he started at me. I wasn’t sure what to say.

“I don’t know that’s a bit extreme. She isn’t a bad person just conceited, and haughty. We’ve grown apart.”

“To be honest your wife is a first class bitch,” his eyes bore into me and I nodded. “Hey, my wife wasn’t cheating on me. She was about to, though. I found that out at the same time I had her humiliated. The guy installs cameras in your place and sets up a recorded.” He glanced around then continued, “He watches the stuff till he has her all figured out, then he records her therapy session for you.” He laughed for a moment, “That’s what he calls it therapy or counseling. He also recorded the bastard and her having coffee and him groping her. Her almost giving in and stopping breathlessly. She would twist her wedding band then make him leave. After the rape, she never allowed him back in the house. She has been a perfect wife since oh once every year or so I have to remind her but still a perfect wife.” He sat there drinking his beer he had the most pleased look on his face. “If you want to contact the guy let me know.”

“What happened to the guy that tried to get in her pants?”

“Oh, you knew him, Dave Chambers,” He looked so happy when he told me.

“Dave?” I asked him.

“Yea, you remember Dave right?” I nodded remembering him and how he was found in the woods, beating to death his cock cut off and shoved in his mouth. I wondered about that.

Our conversation went through my mind repeatedly for days. The thought of her humiliation gave me erections and would stroke off thinking of this guy bust her apart. I contacted my friend telling him I thought I wanted to follow his advice. A few days later a package arrived for me at work. There was cell phone inside with a note. Wait for a call.

When I was at lunch that day, the cell rang, “Hello.”

“Is this Sean?” a soft, deep, masculine voice asked me.

“Yes,” there was a tremor in my voice.

“I have the particulars already. I have surveilled the subject already setting up around the clock observation of her. She is quite a problem for you. I hear the way she talks to you and about you. I regret to inform you that she has entered into an adulteress relationship with her intern.” He fell silent as my mind swam in the information.


“Well, what?” I didn’t understand what he wanted.

“Do you wish to proceed with a counseling session for you wife?” the voice was calm and collected not a trace of malice, as a doctor discussing a treatment option.

“Yes, I think I do.”

“Not a good enough answer Sean.” With polite insistence, he pushed me to answer him.

“Yes, let’s do it,” I said my guts were wrenching inside, with fear, excitement and disgust. Perhaps I am a poor bad-man or a cowardly one. My appellation to the name ‘bad-man’ might, in part, only be by association. Unwilling to do the work, by the necessity of need, I find a bad-man worthy of the name to perform it at my bequest. Even so, the need is there I have been wronged and I will be revenged.

“It cost five thousand for her treatment and the eradication of the work entanglement,” the statement followed by detailed instructions on manner and means of payment. I was somewhat shocked at where and how the payment was due, not at the fact it was a cash only transaction.

“I thought it was three thousand,” I remembered distinctly what James told me.

“Check with him, the three thousand was for his wife. Did he mention the removal of temptation from her path?”


“That was extra and I assumed you wanted the same service. Was I wrong?” I didn’t answer right off, I mulled it over for a moment.

“He is only eighteen,” I reasoned. Anger at her and him flared up, “Yea, waste his fucking ass!”

“Do you want him violated as well?” If I thought I was less evil than this man before he questioned my desire on this, my answer proved I was not.

“Sure, make him suffer in a horrible manner, her as well I want her fucked up but good,” with no effort at all I plotted the despoilment of this mere kid. Frenzy of anticipation filled me thinking of this young, virile man, ruined and murdered, “Can I have a copy of that as well?”

“Yes, can you be away from town from Sunday evening the fifth, and not returning until at least Friday the tenth? You will want to give her that long for her recovery.” He spoke in a professional manner, business-like manner.

“Yes,” I told him and he continued.

“This way she will … well, she will seek you out upon your return for comfort. Call her the night of the sixth. She has started to heal but don’t expect intimacy for several days as her mind adjust to her new reality. It won't be long until you are her world.” While I felt, I was as evil has him I was not a bad-man. He was the genuine article, he lived with no fear of a reckoning, doing vile things without giving a thought to consequences. For a price, he would do, anything, without regret.

Taking a weeks vacation from work I lied to Sharon telling her I was away a publication convention. I was in Vegas where a yearly conference was in progress but of course, no one at my level ever attended these conventions. I played some cards, drank and even visited one of the whorehouses. On my second night in Vegas, I called her, Monday the sixth.

“Hello, is that you Thomas?”

“Yes, pretty dull out here how are you doing?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m tried was sick last night,” she hesitated for a minute then continued, “fell down the stairs. I’m afraid I’m dreadful sight.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry dear. I hope you aren’t hurt too bad.” I faked concern and hoped she seethed in pain.

“No, not to bad … love.” She hadn’t called me by a nickname in years. Well, not one of affection, “I guess you made an impression on your bosses. They must have realized her value at last.” We talked for a long time at last I told her I should let her go. With reluctance at last she agreed.

Wednesday morning the phone in my room rang at nine am. I hadn’t left yet for the day I had planned a trip to cathouse outside of Vegas. Picking up the phone I was informed that a package arrived for me and would I like it delivered to the room. I said of course and waited with impatience while checking to see if there was a way to watch the thing. There was a DVD player, it was difficult to sit idly waiting for the recording of my wife's destruction to arrive.

After giving the man a tip, I ripped open the package and looked at the disk. A note accompanied the disk scrawled in block letters was the message, “Enjoy another video will arrive in your office in a few weeks. DESTROY THE PHONE.”

The almost four weeks from when the plot was hatched, until the moment I received the DVD, had crawled by in a slow, plodding dullness. With great anticipation, I obeyed the command before I watched the video. Putting the disk in the drive I pulled a chair up and gazed at the screen.

The first moments of the record sickened me. There was my wife kissing, hugging and undressing the young, athletic boy who worked for her. His engorged prick stood at attention it was average, smaller than my own. “Why him,” I wondered. Sharon descended to the floor in a graceful manner. Her fit body clothed in a negligée I didn’t recognize. I felt sick to my stomach.

There was a brilliant flash and loud bang in the room, the two of them bumped each other and moved away from each other. She ran headlong into the wall by the window while hit the door of the bathroom. Both crumpled on the floor and large, muscular naked man walked into the room. Between his toned thighs swung an immense, fat, limp prick. His hands clutched plastic restraints, the kind the cops use for handcuffs. With a quick precision, the man restrained the boy then woke him. Sitting in a seat so he could have a first-hand view of the action. Her crammed panties in the kid’s mouth until he was satisfied he couldn’t make a sound.

Turning his attention to my wife he snatched Sharon up by the hair. The violent act woke her from her concussion induce sleep, her feet dangled inches off the floor. The big white man slapped her face several times and let go her hair. Tumbling to the floor she whimpered at his feet.

“Get on you knees you fucking bitch and suck me hard,” his formerly soft voice hardened to an odious growl. Sharon’s response was swift, his muscled body towering above her tiny frame, the sinister tone of malicious intent, coupled with the pitiful view of her manly courtesan bound like so much refuse heightened her alarm. In incredible evidence of her fear her body quivered. She arched up taking his massive pecker in her hand she touched her lips to the plumb sized head. Stretching her mouth wide, she struggled fit it thickness inside her reluctant mouth. With great difficulty, she worked the stiffening monster inside her stretched her wide.

To say the hulking man was impatient is an understatement, he grabbed the bun atop her head once again and wrenched her beautiful face her toward his balls. Her mouth strained, her cheeks expanded and even her throat engorged on his cock. With a violent explosion, he thrust his hips in a rapid motion the man literally fucking her throat.

He expended high energy as he hammered her throat with his colossal member. Tears brimmed from her eyes while massive amounts of spittle and snot expelled from her nose and around the edge of her mouth. How the fluid found room to flow from around that cock was a mystery. I thought her mouth might rip open. She blubbered her shoulders shook from fear and effect of his oral assault.

I began stroking my cock, his control of her pleased me, but his causing her pain turned me on beyond belief. My own cock throbbed for release. Jerking myself I watched with even more enthusiasm. Watching his hips ram all of that magnificent porn worthy dick in her throat kept me so hard. I spurted spunk over the carpet between the chair and the console, but my pecker refused to deflate.

Pulling his cock back to just at her lips he hissed, “Don’t spit it, don’t swallow it hold this in your mouth till I tell you what do with it.” His white cum exploded from his cock, spraying thick goo on her lips, in her mouth, and over her lovely face. Grasping the bun of hair, he tugged clambering on her hands and knees to her lover. “Feed it to the cunt boy now,” he shouted in her ear. “Get that shit out of the faggot’s mouth and make him eat my seed.”

Smacking the kid on the back of the head he ordered him to enjoy it. The look on the little bastards face was priceless as he devoured the man’s spunk. Once her mouth, lips, and face were clean, the man pushed her up onto her lover and rent the nighty from her body. The man grabbed a vibrator from my wife’s nightstand and shoved it her hand.

“Ass fuck him while I do the same to you,” the begging began as soon the words escaped his lips. Grasping the bun the man twisted it hissing at her, “Shove that fucker in his ass now, bitch!” While I couldn’t see her face, it was plain to see she was in great anguish. I knew it was excruciating what he did to her hair. The tortured look on the little bastards face was priceless when that big vibrator went up his ass. It was only the size of me I couldn’t even begin to imagine how much that hurt. I wondered if the man would rape the boy with his massive prick as well.

The camera changed to a side view. The man’s great cock head hovered at her asshole, just touching it. He pressed forward and I could see he wasn’t pushing not yet. Just perhaps the massive tip intruded a small amount. Her eyes were wide, her chest heaved, in an appalling, expectation of what was to come. With a massive thrust of his powerful hips, he heaved in and buried possibly six inches of the fat head and shaft.

Her scream curdled my blood and I spewed new trail of seamen across the bright carpet. He withdrew nearly out of her shitter then thrust it home again driving in harder and deeper. Picking up the pace in three thrust he drove the entire length of his immense dick inside her brown eye. She screamed aloud, her head thrown back, as her back arched in an effort to get away from the offending organ. She kept pumping the hapless boys butt with the vibrator.

Like a jackhammer, he struck away his hips propelling his prick deep inside her in his ferocious attack. The boys body quaked as hers shook and shuddered both blubbered, sobbing as not only their bodies hurt but their views of themselves shattered. I don’t know how but felt her shame. I felt her arrogance burn out of her! She begged and beseeched him to stop, he only fucked her ass harder.

I almost felt sorry for the bitch, almost! When pulled all the way and grabbed both of her shoulders I got ready my cock sprang up stiff again. He thrust nearly half that monster inside her cunt in one quick motion. He battered into her again like some boxer rabbit punching an opponent without mercy. Her tits shook and bounced as her mouth gapped one a silent scream as her body bounced from the vicious assault. She pugnaciously thrust the dildo in her youthful lovers gaping ass. Her head dropped to boys chest and with each plunge of the cock, the top of her skull pounded the little shits chin.

The man stiffened up and barked “Her it cums bitch, baby batter for you.” He shuddered through another orgasm and the strangest thing happened, so did Sharon. I could see the waves pass over her body, I knew the signs. It was massive and that furthered her humiliation. How degrading to cum in a painful, abusive, violent, rape what kind of pig would let that happen.

When his big cock flopped out of her pussy, cum and blood oozed from her snatch landing in thick globs on the hardwood floor. Sharon collapsed on her young lover her head and body went limp. Breathing hard the man watched her for a minute, again the camera changed it was a view of the empty bed. Her body crashed on the bed, her hair pulled out the bun in a disheveled mess. She bounced a few times then curled up in a fetal position.

“We ain’t done you fucking two-bit whore,” he announced as his body landed next to her. He lay on his belly. “Kiss my fucking brown eye and tongue out my ass, now whore.” My wife made no move to comply with his order. Her reached over and grabbed a handful of tit squishing it, he released it. “I said, now cunt!”

She started to kiss his ass but not his ass hole. His hand went her hair and clutched and tugged it until she followed the order. A raspberry rang out and Sharon tried to move in desperation. Her face was contorted, but the man held her in place as the noxious order wafted over face. He pushed her tight to his ass.

“Lick that hole over good bitch then ream it out. I didn’t wipe when took a shit and you need to clean it up – cunt!” I could tell she didn’t want to, but fear and his mighty hand made certain she did as ordered. As she cleaned and ate the cling ons off his ass and from inside his hole, he kept farting. He warned her if she puked she would eat it. It didn’t last long, there was no need. Holding her face in tight again he said, “Heres a wet one for you.” He let rip and a small squirt of liquid shit it blasted her face.

“Eat up bitch right off your face then lick me, you fucking two dollar whore, reclean my ass,” Yanking her from the bed he tossed her like a rag on the floor. The camera again changed giving me a front row seat. Grabbing the boy, he threw him on top of her. Grabbing the dildo in the boys ass he pumped him hard. “I’ll give you some more later punk. For now just enough to make you shoot your faggot juice.” He tossed the dildo to the side, balling up his fist he hit the kids asshole hard. Drew back plunged down again the fist went in just a little and boys body shuddered. The man smiled a wicked grin.

“Faggot,” he barked at the kid then yanked him off my wife semen sprayed up her back where the kids cum had spurted. “Such a sweet little boy, gonna fuck you up good later!” He patted his face then hit so hard I felt it. The camera changed again to the empty bed. “Get your sorry ass up here and fucking impale yourself on my cock you fucking slut.”

I blasted yet again cross the brightly colored casino carpet. I was nearly exhausted, but I watched her ride him as he mangled her tits with his powerful hands. After he again blasted nut butter in her, he talked to her. I couldn’t make it out she crawled off him got on the floor laying on her back. Her mouth hung wide open. He squatted over her mouth and I watched as he took a dump in her mouth. She ate the turd down then cleaned his ass again with her mouth.

“When I count to three you will wake, you hurt, the pain will be felt even greater than it is. You are filled with shame for your very existence as a lousy excuse for a human being. In all matters, you will obey your husband and submit to his rule. When you get out of line or disappoint him, he will punish you. If he says I need to spank you, you get him a belt and willing submit. After he is finished, you will forget the punishment, be happy and do his bidding. If he comes very upset, he will say, “Eat my shit.” You will, at once, lay flat on your back open your mouth and eat his shit, then clean his ass with your tongue and promptly forget it. Even so, every moment of this will flood back in your mind as the memory of eating his shit fades. Should anyone fart where you can hear it these memories will flood you.”

Taking her beautiful face in his hand he squeezed he so hard I thought her face would break. “Don’t make me have to come back and punish you again – One, two three.” She shook violently with fear crawling away from him.

“No, more I’ll be good no more, please.” He gathered up the boy and left with the kid over his shoulder. For the rest of the recording, it switched between cameras showing her curled up on the floor. She repeated over and over, “I’ll be good I’ll please my husband, no more please no more.”


“It has been a year now and my whole life has changed. My novel will be published soon. All because I was able to stop working and concentrate on it. My wife is supportive, in more ways than just financial. She is a new person.” The man stop talking and turned to the small translulant screen. “Well father?”

“There is nothing for me to forgive you for my son. You weren’t involved in her adjustment. Thank you by the way for the generious contribution.”

“It was the least I could do father. You have done so much for me.” The man bowed his head slightly.

“Have you watched the other video?”

“Not yet sir,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Violence upsets me.”

“You wanted it done so watch it.” His voice turned from pleasantly melodic to threating. “Don’t make me punish you.”

“Yes sir,” he said as a cold chill ran down his spine. The man stood and exited the curtain the preist walked out at same time. The preist was a moutain of man. Holding his hand out he waited for the man to shake his hand. As they shook her reminded him.

“Remember anyone you can guide to my side service is appreciated.”

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