A Risky Game

You ever have one of those days when nothing goes right?

We were losing. My wife, Anne, stood by my side. I could feel her hand tighten on my shoulder as our fortunes dwindled with each roll of the dice. Unless that bitch, Lady Luck, provided a miracle we were doomed. It would not be long now.

We were one of six couples playing in the annual Risk board game charity tournament. The couples were selected for their physical attractiveness and their willingness to tempt fate for possible financial reward. Each of the three winning couples would split between $80,000 and $100,000 with the Charity that sponsored the tournament. For that much money, many would consider the reward worth quite a risk. Anne and I certainly did.

As for the three losing couples, their fate was the same as in ancient history when a conqueror overwhelmed a weaker neighbor. The losing couple would be immediately plundered, pillaged, and publically humiliated by a winning couple. The losers would have to pay a hefty ransom to eventually escape their from their ruined status. The broken losers provided manna for the winners and the Charity and titillating amusement for the crowd.

Oh well, nothing ventured; nothing gained. The six couples were locked in a desperate contest trying to be sure not to be among the three losers.

There were about three hundred by-invitation-only spectators who had paid the Charity $200 each to attend the gala spectacle. They were there to enjoy watching the fate of the losers and not really to observe a board game. The game simply provided the drama leading up to the fate meted out to each losing couple.

The crowd spent most of its time at the bar and at the caterer's venue during the actual game-play. As the afternoon wore on and more liquor was consumed, the crowd became rowdier. They would have been right at home at a Roman arena watching prisoners of a conquering Roman army being spitted or fed to wild beasts.

The game was played on a stage with tiers of plush seats providing a good view of the action. The players clustered around the game board at center stage. Cameras projected the game board on a large screen for all to watch. Microphones captured all the audio.

The pretend battles raged across the board as each couple strove for survival and destruction of their neighbors. Anne and I were off to a good start in the game and had a solid position. We were feeling optimistic we would make it to the winner's circle. Lady luck was riding with us.

Fairly quickly, the couple that composed the green team wiped out the yellow team and secured a potentially dominant overall position.

The first victims were at hand. There would be an intermission while the yellow-team couple met their fate at the hands of the victorious green-team couple. The other four couples departed the stage and were escorted to a waiting room downstairs with an outdoor patio and garden. A waitress from the bar got drinks for all of us in the waiting room. Gales of laughter, cheers, and applause roared from upstairs as the fate of the yellow team couple amused the crowd. The yellow team must be catching hell up there judging from the crowd noise

Anne and I sipped our drinks and chatted with the other three couples making nervous small talk. After a spell, we wandered out in the garden. It was a pleasant Saturday afternoon and the springtime flowers were in bloom. Bees busily buzzed from flower to flower, and a flowery perfume wafted over us as we walked and talked.

Alone now, we could review the status of the game as we debated strategy. Overall things looked pretty good. As it stood now, we were probably somewhat weaker than the green team but probably stronger than the other three. We were smug about finishing in one of the top three positions.

After a little over an hour we were called back upstairs to continue the game. The green couple was flying high. They had enjoyed extracting their pound of flesh from the losing yellow couple who had now disappeared. The greens had just pocketed $50,000 as had the Charity. They now had the strongest position of the remaining players and seemed fated to be among the sure winners. Victory, wealth, and deadent pleasures were at their fingertips.

Treachery! Oh, "perfidious Albion!" We have been deceived.

The three couples that had been downstairs with us turned on the green couple en mass. They had formed a secret cabal behind our backs while we strolled in the garden during the intermission. The cabal set out to destroy the strongest player, the greens, and then would no doubt turn on Anne and me. The members of the secret cabal would be the surviving three tournament winners if something didn't change.

Green went down in defeat quickly with the Red couple administering the coup de grace. The green couple's wife wept hysterically at her coming fate, and her husband looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a tractor trailer. All they had won from yellow would now be forfeit to red who would share it with the cabal.

Alas, "what is past is but prologue to the future."

We returned downstairs leaving the green couple to suffer the same fate they had joyously meted out to yellow shortly before. The crowd loved the turn of events. The noise was deafening as yellow abused and humiliated the green couple for the crowd's entertainment.

The lengthy second intermission was terrifying. Anne and I could feel the sword of Damocles hovering over our heads.

While the cabal was busy destroying the couple playing green, Anne and I had strengthened and expanded our position. But facing three enemies, the strategic situation was ultimately hopeless. We tried to bribe the two couples of the cabal that were downstairs with us to switch to our side. I even offered them the full use of my wife. They just smiled and shook their heads no as they gazed at us like we were prey. We settled for two strong drinks as we contemplated our suddenly bleak position.

The second intermission was over.

"O fortune, fortune! All men call thee fickle." The fates had abandoned us.

The audience recognized Anne and I were now carrion for the victors. We would be the next victims. The crowd stomped and jeered with growing excitement as our enemies circled like vultures, ripping one country after another from our beleagured armies.

We struggled valiantly, but against three it was hopeless. Tom and Betty, playing the blue pieces, crushed our last holdout armies and took charge of our fate. We were the last losing couple and our fate would be the finale on center stage.

The game table and chairs were quickly moved off stage, and the barbaric games began. Cameras projected closeups of the action on large screens and microphones were arranged to catch the slightest gasp of pain or dismay. The Charity wanted to ensure the paying audience did not miss any of the titillating show that we were about to provide. DVDs of it all would be available for purchase from the Charity afterwards.

Tom and Betty played last year and lost and were back this year to recoup their losses. They knew the ropes of the upcoming entertainment venue well, very well indeed.

The plundering began as I handed over the certified cashiers check for $20,000 required from each losing couple. The check, like all payments associated with the tournament was made out to the Charity so, of course, it was tax deductible. Tom and Betty would ultimately get half of our check, and the other half would go to the Charity. Tom waved the check over his head in triumph to the cheers of the crowd.

Next began the public humiliation of the losers by the winners. Tom teasingly stripped my wife while Betty did the same to me in front of the whistling and cheering audience. Anne loves to wear skimpy bikinis when we visit beaches where we do not know anyone, That always made me wonder if my wife was a closet exhibitionist but was just too shy to let that side of her come out around friends and family. Well, she was certainly out there in the public view today. We were paraded around the stage and up and down the aisles for all to gawk at our nakedness and jeer.

It was now time to scourge the husband for the crowd's amusement. Betty addressed me, "John, turn your backside to the audience, bend over with your hands on your knees, and look at your wife."

My wife, Anne, made eye contact and smiled trying to encourage me. Tom made her stand with her hands at her sides, completely exposed in her nakedness to the heated gaze of the audience.

Betty twirled an oval black leather paddle to catch my attention and let my eyes dwell on its menacing appearance. The grip of the paddle looked smooth and worn.

Five excited young women trooped over single file and stood in a line by my wife, all of them smiling expectantly at me. The women had won the lottery drawing to publically spank me on stage.

Betty handed the paddle to the first woman in line, a petite little blond. She whooped and happily skipped around behind me giggling with excitement. The first blow made me gasp. Who knew a little thing like that could wield such a vicious paddle. Encouraged by shouts and cheers from the audience, the devilish little blonde wound up and put her second blow on exactly the same place as before, only harder. I grunted in pain.

The remaining women took their turns of two whacks each. Wildly encouraged and cheered on by the audience, the women enthusiastically thrashed my bare bottom without mercy. They were all giggling and laughing so hard, it was a wonder they didn't pee in their pants.

As the five women danced off stage to the cheers of the audience, I was bent over ignoring everything but my burning butt. Anne gave me a thoughtful look. Then she glanced at Betty and nodded. I missed the significance of both the look and the nod.

Betty slipped behind me and suddenly struck my naked rear. The thwack of the blow resounded through the whole room and silenced the audience. They then breathed out a collective "ooh." I jumped, and a yelp escaped from me. That blow was far harder than anything before.

Betty had mentioned when we were chatting before the tournament started that she was an avid tennis player. Judging from the blow she just delivered to my bare ass, she must have a devastating forehand. I looked at her. Her lips were parted in a sadistic smile, and her eyes glittered with excitement. She was thoroughly enjoying this.

In this corporal punishment phase of the husband's humiliation, the ten blows by the lottery winners and the first five by Betty were mandatory. Now we owed the the Charity $20,000. Each new spanking from Betty was worth $1,000. If I went 20 blows, we owed nothing. If I went 10, then we owed $10,000 and so on. The losing wife decided how many blows her husband had to endure. It was in her hands alone to weigh her husband's pain against the money she would have to pay out. It was a diabolical mind game to torture the wife and the husband. The wife was caught between a rock and a hard place, and the husband was the painful victim of whatever she decided.

My wife nodded to Betty again. This blow stung worse than the first, if that was possible. Betty was putting all her strength into each blow and grunted with the effort. We finished the fifth blow from Betty and now were at the critical sixth one. The sooner Anne called it off, the more money we had to pay. Betty spared not the rod on my backside as the sooner we capitulated the more money she and Tom and the Charity made. This posed a dilemma for my wife. Should she rescue her husband from his agony or choose to save filthy lucre for their future?

After the mandatory five blows from betty, I was ready to cave and give them all $20,000; hell, give them more. Anything to make it stop. I looked at Anne with pleading eyes, but I was forbidden to speak.

Anne shook her head no at me and mouthed, "I am sorry." She looked at Betty and nodded.

This was not a spanking; it was an out-and-out butt stomping. By eight blows, I was completely unmanned, stomping my feet in desperation while crying and squealing like a ten-year old girl. My distressed behavior elicited howls of laughter and catcalls from the audience. Betty was grinning with delight at my pain and frantic antics each time she applied her paddle to my naked posterior. The audience cheered and whistled wildly at each blow.

Anne continued to gaze enigmatically into my eyes and nodded to Betty after each blow to continue until we reached twenty-five from Betty. I relaxed, gasping. I had made it, somehow.

Betty's surprise blow to my exposed butt was the hardest yet and drove me to my knees. "And one to grow on," Betty called out laughing. The audience roared in appreciation of the trite old childhood birthday party adage. Even Anne gave a smirky smile.

I was sobbing in pain, and my ass was a bright cherry red. My whole butt would soon be a colorful piece of modern art featuring deep hues of red, black, blue, and yellow.

I was furious with Anne. Damn cheapskate wife. But now the tables were turned. She was about to take center stage.

A bed was wheeled out to center stage, and we were led to the bed. Anne laid down and spread her legs. Betty and I stood alongside the bed at Anne's head.

Tom removed his clothes and moved to Anne. Knowing what was expected, Anne turned and grabbed Tom's dick, took it deeply in her mouth, and began pumping enthusiastically accompanied by whistles and cheers from the crowd.

Betty finally declared, "Let's do her." She turned to me saying, "Hold your wife down," The tournament rules required the losing husband to hold the wife down during the rape by the victorious husband.

Tom stood Anne by the side of the bed and then had her lay face down, half-on and half-off the bed. He took his time positioning himself behind my wife and then spread her legs wide. I reached over, and my wife and I locked hands around one another's forearms. In this position I was facing my wife from maybe a foot away. Over her shoulder I could see a grinning Tom watching me as he prepared to enjoy my wife. Anne took a deep breath and gave me a nervous smile and a wink.

Tom entered Anne slowly and deliberately, heightening Anne's anticipation of what was to come. I could judge the progress of Tom's dick into my wife as Anne's grip on my forearm steadily tightened and her eyes slowly widened and seemed to almost glow. Excited little oh, oh, ohs trickled out of her mouth. Tom pushed fully into her, and Anne gave a soft, drawn-out groan of pleasure, dropping her head and arching her back to push her pelvis back into Tom.

Tom stared at me with amusement. Betty chuckled as she whispered to me, "Oh, that wife of yours is about to get a fine fucking!" The previously boisterous crows went quiet as they waited expectantly for my wife to get royally fucked by Tom.

My wife and Tom began the ancient sexual rhythm of thrust and heave, steadily picking up the pace. Anne was steadily grunting guttural "ungh, unghs" in cadence with Tom's robust thrusts. Through Anne's grip I could feel each thrust into her and sense her rising tide of pleasure. It was as though I was being fucked too but without the pleasure Anne was experiencing. The crowd noise was building as the copulating couple sped their efforts.

Anne was soon approaching orgasm. Her grip on my arm was painfully tight. She raised her head; her wild flashing eyes were unfocused. She was off in a distant land and did not even note my presence anymore. Her cries were now a repeated series of frenzied almost incoherent "Oh yes, oh, oh, please, yes, yes."

The orgasm pulsated through Anne in series of mighty contractions eliciting a squeal of primordial delight from her. The crowd cheered and whistled.

But Tom was indefatigable, and his fucking of my wife never slackened. He leaned forward to put his hands on her shoulders to pull himself ever deeper into Anne with each stroke. The slap-slap of my wife and Tom's flesh thundered to a new crescendo. I was hearing it all in stereo as the microphones broadcast every sound all around. The crowd was now screaming and stomping its feet in excitement.

Anne was desperate now, frantically heaving and bucking as she howled in ecstacy. Finally Tom came with a loud roar and a vigorous thrust to deposit his sperm deep inside my wife.

Anne came again with a series of quivering shakes and a long, drawn out squeal of delight. As the orgasm hammered her, Anne tightened her grip unbearably and dug her fingernails deeply into my arm, drawing trickles of blood. Finally, her eyes fluttered open She gazed at me, slowly refocusing and coming back to earth. She gave me a weak smile, 'Oh Honey, that was really something."

Hearing that over the microphones, the already cheering crowd really wild.

Tom withdrew from her and gave Anne a resounding slap on her upraised ass and called out loudly, "Next" as he strode off.

The slap elicited a sharp "ouch" from my startled wife. She sat up on the bed and around.

Anne glanced back over at me with a smile, "Oh Honey, I think I am in for quite a ride!"

I followed her gaze to the side of the stage. There were the five nude male lottery winners from the audience. They had won the opportunity to continue the gang rape my wife. There was obviously a qualifying criteria to enter the lottery as all five were beefy, young men who were hung like stud stallions. I was looking at a half ton of raw, naked maleness that was all but pawing the ground in anticipation of slaking its lust in my dainty 120-lb wife. The first one was already trotting over to the cheers of the crowd to claim his piece of my wife's ass as his lottery prize.

Anne laughed excitedly, laying back on the bed and throwing her arms back over her head for me to hold per the game rules. As her new lover approached, she spread her legs wide with a loud, challenging "Come on big boy. Show me what you can do." The crowd roared its approval of my wife's sporting spirit.

My wife sent each of the first four muscular studs back off stage with a wilted cock and a grin of satisfaction, as she enthusiastically welcomed each follow-on stud between her thighs.

The fifth stud started fucking my wife, then laughed, withdrew his dick from her, and stood up. He cried out "You are too slippery. It's been a superhighway down there. Roll over, we'll go in the back door."

The audience cheered. My wife complied slowly. She was nervous and looked at me with worried eyes. We had never done anal sex before.

The fifth stud liberally applied lubricant to his dick, and then began lubricating and massaging my wife's asshole. Anne squirmed uncomfortably as he entered her, but within a minute or so, she was a convert, whooping encouragements to her final lover as he reamed her ass. He gave a mighty groan as he ejaculated in my wife's ass, and she screeched in happy response. I think something new was just added to our bedroom repertoire.

Thus ended the final rape phase of the game. We stood up to cheers and applause from the crowd. Anne did a formal bow to the audience which brought them up in a standing ovation. Aides then led us, still naked, down below the stage to the locker rooms. There I showered, dressed in fresh clothes, and was escorted to a conference room where a refreshed and dressed Anne joined me about twenty minutes later.

Anne dropped into a chair with a contented sigh. She laughed lightly, "Well, that was certainly something to remember." She cut her eyes at me coyly and teased "After all of that fine fucking, your wife can hardly waddle!"

A waitress from the bar stuck her head in, murmured "Wow, what a show" and graced us with a knowing smile and a wink. She took our drink orders and returned shortly with two double Knob Creek bourbons for me and two Hendricks gin and tonics for Anne, compliments of the house.

Anne took a long appreciative sip while I did the same. She asked sympathetically, "Honey, how is that butt of yours? It was looking like a Joseph Pollock piece of modern artwork when we left the stage."

I shifted my bruised butt in the chair carefully. "It hurts, damn it. That Betty is a sadistic bitch. Why didn't you stop it? We could afford it."

Anne giggled, "Oh Baby, I don't know how to tell you this, but here goes. Those women spanking you turned me on like I was attached to a high voltage line. Each time they and Betty spanked you I thought I would orgasm on the spot. It was one of the wildest experiences in my life. I was afraid I was going to embarrass myself and leave a puddle on the floor."

I shook my head in shock and asked incredulously, "You what? That turned you on?"

Anne nodded enthusiastically, "Uh uh. Oh Baby, it really did. I had no idea about that. It's fun to discover a new side to your sexual self that you didn't even know existed."

I was not so sure about this discovery of Anne's. I took a big slug of bourbon to clear my mind.

Anne prattled on excitedly. "I talked to Betty down in the women's locker room about it. She's exactly the same way. She told me about this sex shop downtown where we can get a paddle just like hers. We can go first thing Monday morning, and you can help me pick it out. I just can't wait to try it out on your cute little butt."

Further discussion on this dubious topic was cut off by the arrival of the smiling Tom and Betty.

Tom boomed, "A great job you two, just great. The crowd loved you. Now on to the ransom phase. Anne told Betty you will work off the ransom rather than pay cash. That's great."

I stared hard at Anne. Before the tournament, we sorta agreed to pay if we lost rather than work it off. I figured out that by selling some of our investment portfolio and raiding the retirement accounts we could swing it without much trouble.

Anne shrugged her shoulders and gave me a disarming smile. "Honey, Betty said they worked it off last year when they lost. She said it was not bad at all. We might as well save the money and pay the ransom with the sweat of our labor rather than cash."

Tom laughed, "Well, it was certainly fun for Betty; she had quite the time. I am surprised she didn't throw the game just so she could do it all over again."

Betty blushed, "Oh hush!... Ok you two, the Charity requires us to go over the ransom rules with you so there is no misunderstanding."

Tom picked up the conversation, "As winners, Betty and I can enjoy your sexual charms whenever we want over this next year until the ransom is paid. You are essentially our personal sex toys until you pay up. Any problem?"

Anne had a gleam in her eye and a smile of anticipation as she murmured, "Oh no, that will be just fine." She obviously really enjoyed what she got from Tom on the stage.

Betty grinned, put her paddle on the table, and looked me in the eye. I was far less sanguine about my future than Anne was hers. Nevertheless, t nodded my head in agreement as my fanny shriveled in fear.

Betty continued the recitation of the rules saying, "Your ransom is $60,000. Half goes to the charity, and half we get for administering your ransom program. We just met with your twelve donors who have been carefully screened. They each put up $5,000 as a tax-deductible donation to the Charity to cover your ransom. You will repay the donors by providing sexual services for two-hour periods valued at $1,000 per period. All sixty service periods must be completed before the risk tournament next year. That's just a tad over one a week so it is not unduly onerous. Is that all clear?"

Anne and I nodded that we understood. All of the rules had been explained to the players in an abbreviated form before the tournament started. We sorta, but only sorta, knew what we were getting into.

Betty reached over and patted Anne's hand, "Two of my favorites from last year are in your group of donors. They are QUITE inventive. You will really have fun with them. You are really going to enjoy your sexual smorgasbord."

Betty turned her attention to me now. "Now my dear, you will serve as your wife's pimp and ensure everything goes off without a hitch. We will call or text you assignments and give you any special requirements the donor wants or any special requests they have. You will see these requests are met, any special props or costumes are provided, and will escort your wife to and from the meetings. Your role there will vary. Some of the donors will want to fuck your wife in front of you. Others will prefer for you to wait in the car or in another room. You will do whatever they direct you to do.

"Also, at least one donor wife has said she wants you to service her while your wife is entertaining her husband. There are three other wives in the group that haven't decided yet, but I suspect they will come around. The contracts you and they have signed just say you and your wife will provide sexual and any other requested services. It is within the wives' contractual rights to demand this service, if they wish. Everyone clear on this?"

We nodded our agreement again.

Betty looked at us both and continued, "Good. Now we will book you at a rate of two donor services a week at first. Later, after we are ahead of the game, we can drop that back to one a week if you want to spread it out and savor the experience."

Betty glanced over at Tom a little nervously.

Tom cleared his throat and shifting his gaze to Anne and then to me said, "Well, we do have one little wrinkle nobody has ever encountered before in the tournament. You two were quite popular, and the number of donors that wanted to be on your list was double the number of available slots. We had a drawing to select who got the slots. That has happened before so it's no big deal."

Tom rubbed his ear in agitation and looked away as he continued, "Ahem, well, you see... A male gay couple won one of the slots, They are both jocks, rugby, I think."

I sat bolt upright and shouted, "What! Absolutely not. I am not into this gay thing."

Tom blushed but then said decisively, "I am afraid you are now. The contracts don't differentiate, and there are laws about these kinds of contract things. We are forming a committee to see how to amend the contracts for next year to address this issue, give some limitations and preferences. It's quite complicated though... But this year there is no option available to you."

Betty added with a grin, "I fear our boys realized during your spanking ritual that your butt was, as they put it, 'cute as a button' and they just had to have it. I am afraid you are going to have to comply with their requests."

Anne was giggling and finally broke into guffaws as I looked at her in shock. Composing herself she gasped out, "Oh fiddlesticks, don't be such a prude. I think it's a hoot that you are going to be on the receiving end of a dick finally. Actually, on the receiving end of a pair of dicks. This will be great."

"No way," I replied angrily.

Anne laughed. "Oh come on, dear. I am handling eighty-five percent of the fucking; the least you can do is handle your fifteen percent without being such a baby about it. God, this is just like housework. Men expect the woman to do everything! Sorry honey, you are going to have to just suck it up and take your medicine like a big boy!"

I challenged her hotly, "No! Anne, you are plumbed for being fucked, I am not."

Anne was still being wracked by spasms of giggles."Oh baby, I am only plumbed for it up front. I just got my ass reamed out for the first time there on the stage in front of hundreds of people. I found it quite exhilarating."

She went on with an emphatic, "My asshole is the same as yours. What is good for the gander is good for the goose. Pucker up dearie, you are about to get done big time."

I mumbled, "Not a chance. I have visions of that rape scene in the Deliverance movie except I am seeing me get it in the ass rather than Bobby."

Betty chimed in as she chuckled, "Oh, I am sure your boys will be more skillful than the hillbilly in Deliverance. But you have the right basic idea of what is going to happen to you. There are two of them so I suspect you'll be spited like a pig at a barbeque the whole time. They have two hours to enjoy you so you might as well get ready."

I sat there staring speechlessly at Anne, Tom, and Betty.

Anne patted my hand and said to Tom and Betty, "I'll get him to come around. Don't worry."

Betty answered, relieved that the potential problem was under control, "Oh Good. The gay guys said they don't really have any need for you, to be there, Anne, so you don't have to come while they enjoy your husband. However, if you would like to watch, they will happily provide hot canapes and a bottle of wine for you."

Anne grinned at me as she answered enthusiastically. "Absolutely. I wouldn't miss it for anything. I have never seen a man get fucked. This is going to be fascinating. Thank them for me."

Tom chimed in now, "Ahem, they also suggested that since your husband has a virgin asshole and they are rather large, you might want to work on stretching him out a little beforehand. It will make it more fun for your husband when they do him for real the first time. After your husband's first time with them, his ass will be well and fully stretched and accommodating."

Anne was looking at me speculatively among her periodic giggling fits, "A splendid idea. We'll pick up a couple of different size dildos Monday when we get my paddle. I'll start him on his training program as soon as we get home form the shop. Tell the boys I'll have his asshole primed and ready for them. Oh yeah, I'll give him a tutorial on giving a good blow job too."

I couldn't get a word out. I just sat there in shock. My ass began to burn in anticipation of my wife's new spanking fetish as my asshole whimpered in fear over its upcoming fate.

Anne patted my arm, "By the way Dear, I stopped by the tournament director's office after my shower. I signed us up for next year's tournament."

Yeah, this is definitely one of those days when nothing is going right.

EPILOGUE

Monday morning I was at my lawyer's office at 8:00 sharp when he cracked the door. I left him with a power-of-attorney and instructions to negotiate my divorce whatever the cost. Next stops were my financial advisor and bank which netted me several thousand dollars in cash, a certified cashier's check, and half of our remaining financial resources in an off-shore account beyond the reach of Anne, my soon to be ex-wife. By noon I was on a plane headed west.

After a week of skipping from place to place, I settled in Palau as my place of refuge from my wife and the tournament outcome. I rented a small bungalow about a hundred yards from the beach and disappeared from the outside world.

Just to have something to do, I signed on as a deck hand on an eco-tour cruise boat. My boss is Helga who also captains the boat. She and her husband came out here from Germany ten years ago to start a eco-tour and scuba diving enterprise. Unfortunately, her husband ran into a really big tiger shark that swam off chewing on his lower body last year. The half-dozen tourists he had on the dive with him were New York lawyers who demanded Helga refund their money. After all, her husband's demise deprived them of the chance to complete the promised dive for which they had paid. Helga no longer does the scuba diving part of the business.

It is Monday mid-morning, a year and a half after the tournament fiasco. I am sipping coffee and perusing a letter from my lawyer back home. The divorce is finally final, Hooray! We, and the other tournament contestants, had to allow the Charity to put a lien on our houses to ensure compliance with the tournament rules and outcomes. My sudden departure threw a monkey wrench into the tournament events and could cost Anne the house.

Anne bought peace by personally refunding double the money to the gay couple, hiring gigolos for the wives who had planned on using my sexual services, and allowing the Charity to add another half dozen donors to her portfolio. Everyone, including Anne, was quite satisfied with the solution.

My lawyer's letter mentions that Anne and Betty have now formed an exclusive escort service that caters to the more unusual sexual tastes of a select clientele. Their business seems to be booming. He says the last time he spoke with Anne about the divorce settlement, she gave him a pass to come try out some of their entertainments. He does not mention whether he took her up on the offer, but I suspect he did. He's probably a regular customer by now and paying Anne with the legal fees I am paying him for the divorce!

The eco-tour does not run on Mondays and Tuesdays, our days off. Helga has invited me up to the house for dinner tonight. She's a couple of years older than I am and good company. She's a classic German blonde, blue-eyed beauty who is also a well known local gourmet cook. Talk about an all inclusive package!

When Helga invited me to dinner, she did mention we are both off tomorrow so there would be no need to get up early in the morning!

You know, maybe things are turning out alright after all!