Friday, August 10, 2012

Fifty Shades of Ray by Barry Lowe


He needed a little discipline in his life, what he got was bondage.
Ray Nivkin's life is a mess. The former college football hero's marriage is
on the rocks, his career a shambles, but he's still living on his past
glories, trading on his good looks and sex appeal, so he returns to his home
town for a college reunion to bask in his former glory and the adulation of
the town. Hell, he might be able to get a bit on the side with the coach's
hot wife, like he did when he was student. What he doesn't know is the coach
has found out about his clandestine affair and has been waiting patiently to
teach the arrogant jock a lesson - in his specially prepared sound-proofed
dungeon playroom.  The coach will keep him there until Ray begs for mercy
and becomes his bitch.


My wife, Katrina, won’t be attending the function tonight, she’s bedridden with a nasty cough although it sounds no worse than her hacking smoker’s cough from the thirty-odd fags she smokes a day. I can’t say I’m sorry she’s not coming with me although it would have pleased me to rub her nose in my greater glory. She’s forever harping on about marrying a loser. Me? The top jock of his year. “See,” I told her when the coach’s invitation arrived, “They remember me. I’m a hero.” She grizzled some sarcastic comment about ‘yesterday’s hero’ which got my hackles up.
“So, what were you, Kat? A fuckin’ cheer leader,” I snapped.
“Head cheer leader,” she reminded me.
“Cheer leaders are a dime a dozen. Football heroes are rare as verified sightings of Bigfoot.”
I knew that clinched my case. Katrina changed the subject.
“At least I can hold down a job for more than five minutes. What’s football ever brought you?”
Ouch! She hit my sore point. Seems football didn’t educate me for anything worthwhile. Sure, it opened a few doors initially from alumni of my old college. They were big on the hand on the shoulder, the pat on the ass, the reminiscences about our old alma mater, but in the long-run all it meant was a job in their used car lot where my buddies would come for a chat and a bit of nostalgia while the other losers sold the cars. None of my mates was buying the scrap of rusted metal that sat in the sales yard, so the jobs lasted only a month or two. I must have got a reputation because doors closed in my face in the time it took guys to open them, look me up and down, and close them again.
“Some job,” I sneered. “Check-out chick at the farmer’s market.”
“It’s what pays the rent and keeps you in beer. I can always chuck it in, let you be the big man and bring home the bacon.”
I went to the bed where she was propped up like Lady Muck with her women’s magazines, her chocolates and her primping mirror.
“Now don’t be like that, honey. You know things will improve soon.” I was forced to backtrack because without Kat’s meager wage we’d be living on the streets. “Tonight’s a big opportunity. I’ll be mixing with the movers and shakers, there’s sure to be someone who has a job for yours truly, something that suits my temperament.”
“Yeah, right,” she said, stuffing another cream center in her mouth. “If goofing off paid, we’d be millionaires.”
I was going to say something about going easy on the candy because she was getting love handles but thought better of it. Instead, I leaned over to kiss her goodbye but she turned her face to pick up a magazine and flicked through the pages, her lips oozing raspberry filling. I settled for kissing the top of her head which didn’t interrupt either her chewing or her reading.
“You take care of that cough of yours. Ring the doc if it gets any worse. I’m sorry you can’t be with me on my night of triumph,” I said. It was the most sincere I had been all day, if only because I wanted to rub her nose in my popularity. “I have a good feeling about tonight. I think it’s gonna lead to a new direction for both of us.”
“It’d better,” she said, chocolate juice dribbling down her chin.

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