The next card invited Kelli to meet "Ten little indians," and Ted introduced them with a vengeance.Taking a drawer out of the mechanics case, he held it up so she could see the array of ten dildos inside. Starting at three-inches in length, they grew in one-inch increments. Of course, not only were they incrementally longer, but thicker as well. The 12-inch version was easily as thick as a beer bottle, and looked just about as uncomfortable. Dipping his fingers into his wife's exposed pussy, he found her as slick as she'd ever been. She wouldn't need any extra lubrication. At least not at the beginning. The three-inch dildo slid in easily, and he left it in only long enough to take a picture. Four, five and six were still smaller than what he usually used on her, and she had no trouble taking them right to the hilt. With seven, eight and nine he had to press much harder than before, but her bare cunt still took the strain. On the ten-inch model he had mercy on her and coated the shaft with KY before jamming it in, the invasion bringing a cry to her lips. Before inserting the 11-inch dildo he loosened the straps holding her legs in place, so she could cant her body to best receive the shaft. Even still, she had to grit her teeth as he forced it inside her, the walls of her hole stretched almost to the breaking point.

After the struggle with 11, he considered abandoning the 12-inch model. But to do so would show weakness at a time when he needed to show strength and domination. Besides, he at least wanted to try. After liberally smearing KY all over the head, he bent to the task, using one hand to spread her pussy lips about. At first it seemed as though the girth would be too much, but with an audible pop the massive head slipped inside, with the somewhat thinner shaft sliding in after. She panted like an animal as he slowly maneuvered the behemoth inside her twat, rubbing the rubbery veins against her ultra-stretched muscles. Cruelly and deliberately he let his forefinger trace and flick her pearly hard clit, making her buck up and down on the chair, her ass cheeks slapping against the now sweaty wood. She strained against her bonds, the ropes chafing her skin, as she tried to acccomodate the monster intrusion. Recognizing her purpose, he slightly adjusted the chair so that her body was now canted backward and her legs were held open, as though on a bed with stirrups. It was much like the position she would be in to deliver a baby, only this time he was struggling to push something in, instead of her struggling to push something out. He could see the anguish of the effort on her face, but he didn't stop until he felt the head of the dildo bump against the rear of her cavity. As she gasped and panted like a wounded animal, he took a few pictures of his handiwork and then slowly removed the monster cock from her cunt.

Five cards later he saw the first sign of trouble. Looking down at his bedraggled wife, he could see that she was quickly approaching her breaking point. Harsh red stripes criscrossed her skin where the ropes had bitten a little too deeply. Sweat stained her face and crevices, as though she had just run a marathon. Her normally full blond hair now lay plastered to her face and neck. And her tits and pussy bore the signs of repetitive punishments. He shuddered as he looked at her. She hadn't complained a bit as he'd put her through hell. She'd acted like a real trooper, with a strength he didn't think that he even had. And now this? He'd written the cards early in the first week, back when he'd been full of hate and anger. But now he didn't feel that way at all. In fact, he wanted to protect her, to honor her for going along so well. So how was he supposed to follow the directions on the card?

"Feel the weight on the Golden Gate," the card read. In this, he was supposed to attach clips to her pussy lips, then link them with a strong chain. Then by adding weight, her lips would stretch down and down, each second more painful than the last. He'd seen pictures of it on the Net, and a couple of chatting buddies had said how much their wives enjoyed the experience. But those women had been hardened S&M practitioners. Not a newbie like his wife. And she certainly hadn't given him any indication that she'd like this particular practice.

He'd read it aloud already, so he decided to improvise. Swinging the chair to the standing position, he attached a clip to each of her nipples, then linked them with a light chain. Two leaded weights pulled her nipples down a bit, but not very painfully. It was much like the position he'd put her in the previous week. Though this time the pictures would look far worse, given the red welts crossing her boobs.

He could go further, adding more weights, but that would serve no purpose. He'd already, once again, made it clear that he could do anything he wanted to her. The next card placed him into even more of a quandry. "Candle, candle, burning bright. Drip your wax all through the night," he read aloud, barely even recognizing his wife's pained look. He'd wanted to try wax works, as it was the kind of thing that provided more psychological results than physical ones. Forcing himself to look hard, cold and determined, he pulled a red candle from the drawer and lit it with a flourish. Though well strapped in, she still managed to shrink from him as he brought the candle over her fully exposed body. He tilted it a little to let the wax build up, then started to tilt it a little more . . . and stopped. He couldn't do it. He couldn't keep up the façade. She had more than fulfilled her obligation. She had earned not only her redemption, but his respect. He just didn't have enough anger or testosterone to keep this going one second longer. He wanted to protect her, not hurt her. He wanted to hold her and comfort her. Most of all, he wanted her forgiveness for this temporary insanity.

He knew he'd made the right decision when he noticed that his hand didn't shake at all. One slip, one quiver, and the bubble of wax would drip upon her soft, vulnerable skin. But his hand was steady as a rock as he withdrew the candle, turning and grimacing as the hot wax dripped on his hand instead.

"Get up. OK. We're done," he told Kelli, quickly walking around the chair and undoing all the straps. He didn't want the time to change his mind.

"We're done? Why?" she asked hesitantly, as though expecting a trick.

"We're done because you've done all I've asked of you. You've redeemed yourself. And I just don't have what it takes to keep going with this."

"We're done," she repeated, slowly, tasting the words on her lips. He helped her from the chair, supporting her with his arm as her legs almost buckled beneath her. "We're done," she whispered randomly, as he helped her up the stairs to their bedroom. Leaving her to sit on the bed, he turned the shower on, then dripped some bubble bath on the tile, so there would be a nice scented foam around her feet when she entered. She let out a squeak and then a sigh as the hot water first bit into her wounds and then began to salve them. He stood outside the shower, watching through the translucent glass as she soaped her hair and body, her hands gently caressing all the parts that he'd not so long ago tortured.