It truly was all over but signing the divorce papers. I could hear him ranting as I started packing.“WHAT? YOU DID WHAT? YOU DUMB BASTARD, YOU WERE ...ALKING TO MY WIFE! YOU ASSHOLE! YOU HANDLE THE BITCH ON YOUR OWN. I GOT MY OWN SHIT TO DEAL WITH.”He finally walked into the room just as I was finishing packing. I’d taken enough to last a week and would get the rest later while he was at work, that is if he still had a job Monday. He stood there fidgeting for a minute before he started. She had wanted to be live-roastedon a spit. She was way past the age limit for spit roasting but knew that hecould afford to have it done privately to bypass the Company's quality assurancerules. That was certainly true, but he could not bear to think of her beingcooked live over a roasting pit. She could not convince him that O-drugs madethe orgasms grow in direct proportion to the intensity of pain, and that theimmensity of the pleasure would overwhelm the underlying agony of her. More

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