SOUND ADVICE--Part 1 - Sex Stories

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SOUND ADVICE--Part 1

Date: 9/22/2015, Categories: Fiction, Consensual Sex, Cruelty, Romance, Torture, Author: senorlongo, Rating: 89.9, Source: sexstories.com

of them I told him to go outside while I kept the other covered. He was back with a big cardboard box, a roll of strapping tape, and a heavy-duty hand truck. They put the box together, reinforcing it in several places with an ample supply of tape. It was about two feet on a side and almost six feet high. “Step away for a minute,” I told them. “I want to speak to my wife.” Looking down into her terror-stricken eyes I smiled. “You never have been satisfied, have you? It wasn’t enough that I cleared more than 250 thousand last year. You wanted more and more. This is what greed gets you. How could I ever trust you? How could I possibly close my eyes to sleep? Enjoy the rest of your miserable life. Here’s some sound advice for you--women have urethras, too. Okay, guys…wrap them up.” They were done in less than ten minutes. On their way out I tossed each a packet of hundreds. “It goes without saying that you’ll never come anywhere near here again. I’ll shoot you on sight. This is a ‘stand your ground’ state. I’m sure you know what that means. I’m a highly respected member of this community. I’ll plant a weapon on you and claim I shot in self defense. Now…get out!” Five minutes later I was alone, but I still had a lot to do. CHAPTER 2 I placed most of Gail’s clothes—the better stuff—carelessly into plastic trash bags, leaving them by the front door. Next, I shredded her credit cards and bent her keys in two. I also shredded our checkbook, her license, and passport, and everything ... else in her wallet other than the money; that I kept, placing the bills into my own wallet. I carefully poured the shredded debris into a plastic kitchen bag and I was done until late tonight. I wanted appearances to indicate that she had skipped town. The disappearance of her clothes, toiletries, and purse would surely point in that direction. I had just finished when I received a phone call from Sheila, one of my pharmacy technicians. “Michael, Paul never showed for his shift. I’ve tried calling his house, but his wife said he left for work and there’s no answer on his cell.” “Okay…I guess I’ll have to come in. I’ll be there in half an hour.” I dressed as I always did in a shirt and tie over jeans and white sneakers before backing my car out of the garage and pulling Paul’s in. Then I drove off just as I did every other day, but with a big smile on my face. I worked from noon until closing then drove home, still smiling. The pharmacy had been unusually busy and I’d rid myself of my duplicitous wife and my asshole employee. It was dark as pitch early the next morning when I loaded the back of Paul’s SUV with the clothes, shoes, accessories, and debris. I also put five thousand dollars and a plastic bag with a number of pills—all controlled substances--into a small storage space in the rear side of the vehicle. Of course, I was extremely careful not to leave any traces of my DNA or fingerprints on any of the car’s surfaces by wearing a pair of blue powder-free nitrile exam ...