Grab Life by the Balls

"No. I'm not even allowed to sleep on the same floor. I sleep in the basement now with the kids."

"What??? Why do your kids sleep in the basement, Dean?"

Once again, Dean broke down crying and broke down hard. He was silent for nearly two or three minutes as his body silently shook and consumed him in the kind of weeping that barely allowed him to breathe. "Because I'm weak, Pat. (sob) Because I'm not a man, Pat. (sob) I can't even keep this away from my own children!" (sob)

I let Dean calm somewhat before continuing. "Is Mercedes mistreating your kids, Dean? If she is, I need to know about it."

"Not directly," he said, sniffing and blowing his nose. "She makes them sleep in the basement to keep them away from her and Brad when they're having sex in the house. And also because she is trying to become pregnant with Brad's children. And if she does get pregnant, any children she has with him will have a higher status than my children and will get the privilege of sleeping closest to her."

"My God, Dean! Why aren't you putting a stop to this?"

"Because I'm not a man, Pat. She's taken that from me. Every woman I have ever known has taken that from me piece by piece. Mercedes' proudest moment came a few weeks ago when she officially caged me."

"What do you mean, 'caged'? As in actually putting you in a cage? Some kind of bondage thing?"

"No, Pat," he continued, softly. "It's called a cock cage. A small device that encloses around my genitals and has a lock on it that only Mercedes has a key to. She and only she gets to decide when I can have any kind of sex, which is exclusively to relieve myself and only in her presence so she can humiliate me in front of Brad."

Jesus, I thought. This was a million times worse than anything Clarissa had done to me. If she and Bud Roberts had ever tried anything like that, one or both of them would have taken a bullet to the head. No joke.

"It hurts like hell, too, Pat. Getting an erection is excruciating. I have to sit down just to urinate or risk soiling and embarrassing myself when I have to pee. And the ball torture is absolutely unbearable, Pat."

"Ball torture? Explain that."

Dean took another pull of his rum and coke. He was still pretty lucid but starting to slur his words a bit.

"Mercedes' version of ball torture is that she likes to knee or kick me in the balls every once in a while. Some kind of fetish she and Brad got hooked on watching on the internet. The only time I'm ever allowed in my own bedroom anymore, besides watching them have sex, is so she can punish me. So when she calls me to the bedroom it often means a kick in the nuts for me, literally."

Oh-my-fucking-god! I have never raised my hand to a woman in my entire life. Even with all the shit I went through during Clarissa's affair with Bud, I never even came close to punching her in the face. The thought may have gone through my mind once or twice. Never seriously, though. But if a woman ever kicked me in the nuts? For no apparent reason? That woman is gonna be missing some teeth. A LOT of teeth. Kicking a dude in the balls is the greatest physical advantage women have over men. And a damned unfair one at that. Unless you're a woman.

"Jesus, Dean! Doing that over and over again can cause a lot of damage, ya know. Have you ever thought about pressing charges?"

"Psssht," Dean spat. "Mercedes and Brad filmed a short video of her doing that to me and made it look like I was totally into it. And like the pussy-wimp-cuckold I am, I stupidly went along with it. I mean, Jesus! How would you like it if a woman did that to you, Pat? Christ, I've seen you in the men's room. You've got unquestionably the biggest balls and lowest hanging sack I've ever seen on a dude!"

"Jesus, Dean," I said, gritting my teeth. "Keep your voice down, will ya?"

"Aaaaah. What do you have to be so self conscious about? If I had a pair of balls like that I'd be wearing spandex clothes everywhere I went! And who cares what these people think?" he said, getting louder. "I don't! Half of these guys in here probably fucked my wife anyway!"

Hal came over to us. "Is there a problem, Sheriff?"

"No, no," I said, putting my hand on Dean's shoulder to get him to calm down. "My friend is just going through a rough time. We're working it out."

Hal eyeballed Dean for a bit. "Alright, but keep him in line. You won't be the first cop I've kicked out if he gets out of control, okay?"

"I got ya, Hal," I said as Dean went to check on the two other customers at the other end of the bar. "Keep it civil, okay, Dean? We're just here to talk, not make a scene."

"My wife has already made a scene, Pat. She's turned me into the biggest laughing stock in Red River Falls. Did you see how she humiliated me last weekend?"

I sighed. "Yeah, I saw it. But let me ask you a question: What are you going to do about all of this? Are you just going to take it? Or are you going to do something about it? Everything she is doing to you fits the definition of domestic abuse to the very letter of the law and THEN some."

Dean whimpered again. "I dunno, Pat. What can I do? Who would believe me?"

"If you give me a shot, Dean, I can help you with all of this. But you can't leave me hanging, either. I can help end the abuse and get you out of a shitty situation and get you all the evidence you'll need. But you've gotta be invested in it 100%, both physically and emotionally. If you really wanna beat this, you've got to give it everything you have, okay?"

Dean thought for a few moments. "I give in, Pat. I'll do whatever you say. If not for me, then at least for Brandon and Brynne, my kids."

I nodded in agreement. "Yes you do. Let me make a couple of phone calls, okay?"

"Who are you calling?" Dean asked.

"First, I'm gonna call my fiancée Shannon to come pick us up and give us a ride home as I'm pretty sure neither of us are in shape to drive. And, second, I'm going to call in some people who can provide some black-ops kind of help to get you out of this situation once and for all, okay?"

"Okay," he said. "But there is one other thing I should probably tell you, though. Something that really has me scared."

"Oh? What's on your mind, Dean?"

He was silent for a few moments. "Mercedes has a fantasy, Pat."

"Sounds like she has a lot of them, Dean."

"No, you don't understand," he said, looking away and shaking his head.

"Okay, enlighten me."

"She wants my balls, Pat."

"What do you mean?"

"Mercedes wants my balls. She wants me to become a eunuch for her and Brad. She says she is consumed by the idea and that it would make me prove to her how much I love her and also take our relationship to a level that no other couple has ever gone."

"Jesus! She actually told you that?"

"She didn't just tell me that. She told me it was going to happen. Somehow, some way. She said she was going to make me see why it was something I need to do, something WE need to do."

"Did she say how she planned on doing this?"

"No, Pat. She didn't. Mercedes just said that Brad was working on it and would get it figured out."

"Well, in that case, I guess we better grab this bull by the balls and figure it out. Sounds like your life, as you know it, depends on it."

"Yeah, I guess it does, Pat."

*****

Shannon picked me and Dean up from The End Zone as neither of us were remotely in any shape to drive, me from six tall pints of Killian's and Dean from about ten rum and cokes. I had her drive us straight to Dean's house and park about a block away. A second call to Chris and Tonya was done with the purpose of meeting us there. We parked down the street because Dean had no idea if Mercedes would be home or not. At first glance it appeared that she was gone.

Our assessment was confirmed when Dean gingerly approached the front door of their decent-sized ranch house and had to let himself in by unlocking the door. Had Mercedes been home, the door surely would have been unlocked as they lived in a pretty decent neighborhood in southwest Red River Falls. The five of us walked in the house and Dean spied a note left for him on the kitchen dinette table. He picked it up and read through it as the rest of us milled about between the kitchen and living room.

"You have a lovely home, Dean," Shannon complimented. "I have to say Mercedes keeps it beautiful and spotless."

"No, she doesn't," Dean corrected. "I keep it beautiful and spotless."

"Oh, I see," Shannon said, embarrassed.

"Mind if I ask what Mercedes said in the note, Dean?" I asked.

"See for your self," he half-mumbled. "I am sooooo screwed," he said, sitting down at the table and burying his face in his hands.

I picked up the hand-written note and read to myself:

Hey, asshole!

You had NO right to try and ruin my plans for tonight! How dare you! You knew Brad and I were planning on this night for over a week! You KNEW you were supposed to be home right after work! You are the most selfish and self-absorbed person I know. All you do is think of yourself and no one else! Do Brad and I mean nothing to you? Is that how little you think of us? Luckily, I was able to find someone to sit for the kids and they are staying at the Spahns' house this weekend. I suggest you use the time you have to yourself this weekend to think about what you've done! I guarantee Brad and I will be spending some of our time this weekend, the few moments when we are NOT having mind-blowing and earth-shattering sex, to think about some appropriate punishments for you! But we shouldn't have to. You should know your place by now! Think about that while we are gone!

M

P.S. - Brad and I enjoyed a quick fuck before we left. Wash the bedding so they are nice and clean for us when we get home, pussy boy!

I folded the note in half and set it back down on the table. I pulled up a chair next to Dean. I was still a bit tipsy so I spent a few moments thinking of what to say so I didn't sound like an idiot. Dean, on the other hand, was holding his liquor remarkably well, especially for a lightweight. I blamed it on the fact that my Killians was so much heavier than a rum and coke.

"Dean, let me as you a question; what do you want to happen here?"

"I don't know, Pat," he said, shaking his head. "I just want to be happy. I want my kids to be happy. And I want my wife to stop tormenting me like this. I want her and me to be happy together, without all this torture play and without her having to fuck other guys all the time."

"I understand that, Dean. But do you understand that I think your relationship with Mercedes is over? It is a relationship that is incredibly damaging and dehumanizing to you and it needs to end. I'm willing to help you with that but you absolutely have to be willing to let me do it. Will you let me help you, Dean?"

Dean started quietly crying again. Finally, after a minute or two, he nodded his head. "Yes, Pat. I'll do anything for my kids and whatever it takes to get us out of this mess."

"Okay, Dean," I said calmly, rubbing his upper back. "You're making the right decision here." I looked over at Tonya and Chris. "What is your plan, Tonya?"

"First of all," Tonya started, "I need to know how much time we have. I can't just get this stuff set up in five minutes."

"Dean?" I prompted.

Dean looked up, dried his eyes with his hands. "She and Brad will be gone for the rest of the weekend. Pretty sure they were heading all the way to Sioux Falls for the weekend."

"So, what you're saying is, I've got some time to play with?"

Dean just nodded and waved to her to do whatever she wanted.

"Okay," Tonya said. "How many televisions are there in the house?"

"Three," Dean answered. "There's a large TV in the family room in the basement, another smaller one in the kitchen and another large TV in the master bedroom, er, I mean, Mercedes and Brad's room."

"Okay," Tonya said. "I'm going to get started on those first because those will take the longest. Shannon, can you give me some help? Patty-pie still looks pretty rough from his bar crawl."

"Sure! I'd love to," she said eagerly.

"Whoa!" I objected. "I'm not that bad off. I'm in perfect condition to help out."

Shannon walked over to me and said, "Just sit there and chat with Dean. I'm fine helping out and beside that, Dean could use the company."

"But Tonya is going to spend most of the night working on the cameras and working on you, too."

"Jealous much?" Shannon said, giving me a wink and a deep, wet kiss.

I resumed chatting with Dean and basically encouraged him to do what he could to get himself some professional help. I also suggested that he think strongly about getting his kids some counseling, as well, to make sure they hadn't been harmed by this outlandish situation. Dean acknowledged he would.

I followed Dean into the basement as he gave me the nickel tour of the house. The basement family room was quite large with the TV and entertainment center on one end and three beds on the other end, just as Dean had told me at the bar. Sure enough, Dean was living in the basement with Brandon and Brynne while Mercedes and Brad occupied the master bedroom.

There was an end table and something on it.

"What's that next to your bed, Dean? Is that a baby monitor?"

Dean looked particularly embarrassed. "Yeah, it is."

"What's the purpose of that?"

Dean took his time answering. "That's so Mercedes can make sure I'm listening when she and Brad are...well...you know." I just looked away in disbelief and shook my head.

"What about the kids? Do the kids know what's going on?"

"No," Dean said. "That's another reason for the baby monitor. She makes me stay down here and watch the kids when they're home to make sure they don't go up stairs. Also, so she can talk to me and tell me everything Brad is doing to her and how it is so much better than I could ever do."

Dean turned away and it was clear he didn't want to talk about it anymore. I just couldn't fathom the idea of how a successful, educated and decent guy like Dean could be forced to endure this kind of life. But thinking about all the things he had to endure growing up, it wasn't such a long walk to come to the conclusion that anyone can become that damaged through prolonged exposure to misery, humiliation and domination. It had happened to Dean when he was most vulnerable and he had never been able to escape it.

Tonya, Chris and Shannon all started to work on getting the cameras placed. Tonya and Chris started removing the backs of the large TVs first while Shannon began removing the back of the TV in the kitchen. It took them about ten or fifteen minutes to complete that task. The next phase took a little bit longer. Tonya produced three small implantable nanny cameras that she purchased from a company called Personal Spy Supply.

It took her nearly an hour to wire all three cameras into place. Since all three of the televisions were smart TVs, she was able to link all three of the cameras to an online program that would literally enable Dean, or anyone he authorized, to be able to view real-time footage from the cameras from literally anywhere in the world. She also supplied Dean with a one terabyte external drive that was set up to record hours and hours of video feed from the cameras.

But Tonya wasn't done yet. In addition to that, she produced three multiple-outlet power strips that had hidden cameras built right into the plug-ins for the wall. They drew their power directly from the outlet and were also wirelessly connected to the same program. Tonya also replaced three smoke detectors in the bedroom, basement and living room that contained cameras as well. She even changed out the thermostat for the HVAC system with a nearly identical one that - yep, you guessed it - contained a hidden camera and still provided full controls for the HVAC system along with a carbon monoxide detector in the kitchen that had its own camera as well.

As a final touch, Tonya gave Dean a digital picture frame that also included a hidden camera. Tonya suggested that Dean give the frame to Mercedes as a peace offering when she got home.

"Might be worth a shot," Dean conceded. "I'll tell her she can fill it full of pictures of her and Brad. Maybe that will make her happy."

It was nearly ten o'clock by the time Tonya finished everything. I never would have guessed that she could do something like all of this but she never ceases to amaze me. She was starting to offer personal and business security to many of the businesses and people she was working with in her freelance networking business. Lucky for Dean, he would now have over a dozen hidden cameras working to capture anything that happened between him and Mercedes in the future.

"Thanks for everything you guys," Dean said as we got ready to leave.

"Not a problem, Dean. You know we're here to help. Anything you need, just ask for it, okay?"

"I'll do that, Pat."

"See you Monday, okay?"

"Are you sure, Pat?"

"Trust me, Dean. You just show up ready to work. I'll make sure you don't go anywhere. Just make sure that when you are at work that you are busting your ass for everybody. Don't be late and don't call in sick, no matter how much you want to, okay?"

"I promise."

"Okay. See you first thing Monday morning."

*****

I woke up Saturday morning with a good hangover and a splitting headache. Shannon was perfect through the whole thing and never chided me once for it. As soon as I felt halfway human again, she drove me back to The End Zone so I could retrieve my pickup and drive it back out to the farm.

The rest of the weekend proceeded normally, at least from my end. I was genuinely afraid for Dean and I could only imagine the worst as far as what Mercedes and Brad would do when they got home from their lovers retreat. Pretty sure that both of them would have ended up with a bullet in the head if I had been Dean. But I guess I'm a little sour after what Clarissa put me through, too.

Monday ended up being just another normal workday. I saw Dean out and about in several of the offices around the courthouse and genuinely seemed like he was back to his old self. I began to think that maybe things hadn't gone that badly when Mercedes returned. I wouldn't say Dean had a spring in his step, but he definitely was more upbeat than he had been in a long time.

Tuesday morning, however, proved that one can never make assumptions and any hope that Dean was out of the woods was quickly extinguished as he frantically made his way into my office around 8:30. He looked scared shitless and absolutely shell-shocked. His hair was a mess, his clothes were visibly filthy and he smelled like he hadn't showered since Sunday. He immediately closed the door as he came in.

"Pat, I made a terrible mistake! I shouldn't have told you all that stuff. You need to help me get rid of all those cameras! If Mercedes finds them, I have no idea what she and Brad will do!"

"Okay, okay, calm down," I said, trying to be soothing. It wasn't helping.

"No, no, no! Dammit, Pat! You gotta help me get rid of all that stuff! Please!"

"Dean, you need to calm down. Now!"

Exasperated, he flopped into one of the chairs in front of my desk and ran his hands over his face and through his hair. I could tell his face was flushed and his heart must have been racing a hundred miles an hour.

"Okay, now, Dean. Tell me what's going on. You seemed fine yesterday."

"I know, I know," he sobbed. "But that was because she didn't come home until last night. She and Brad stayed in the Twin Cities all weekend and decided to stay another night because they were pissed at me for coming home so late."