[mytime5584]

nice twist 

[catfightlover40]

I have to commend kind sir, that you've found the perfect rhythm to switch the gears of the story from a female perspective into the male fantasy territory, including her honest admission, that fight stories on occasion are embellished to make one look good.

That being said, it's rare that we can include a sliver of reality in stories like these, where women fight an uphill battle against an impersonal enemy, may they be the memory of a dead lover or a man's stronger affection to catfights than toward intimacy with their significant other.

Turned on by blondes is a cultural thing, I had two colleagues who were young, beautiful blonde personal assistants, and though they were easy on the eyes, interpersonal conflicts in business resulted in them being let go, so I take it Michelle saying we see past anything else they do is but her experience.

[wutong369]

thankyou for u update story. I am waiting the next big move of the roles.

[sinclairfan]

BACK TO THE GRIND

On Monday, I return to work at school, having failed to secure a divorce attorney.  Back to the dull tedium of teaching middle school math, and waiting to go home to an empty house, with my contractor husband busy working on some other woman's home.

I miss Ben.

It's only 1996, so I can't text or IM him.  But I can email him.  I figure out his email address from the naming convention in the Massachusetts public school system.  I wait.  I wonder if he'll see my note.  Or if he'll respond.

>  Hi Ben.  I miss you.  I'm glad we had a day and a night together.  I'm glad you had the first good sex since your honeymoon.  I'm glad you got to see not all women are bitch shrews like your wife from Hell.

He responds.

> I miss you too.  I'm glad you're attracted to me, that I'm not just a charity case for you from my abusive wife.  I'm glad we're both teachers, and hope we can spend long summers together on the Cape.
Or anywhere, really. I wish we had met years ago.  I regret the lost time I was with my wife instead of you.  Is this laying it on too thick?

It's not laying it on too thick.  Flattery will get him everywhere.

I toggle from email to AOL.  I go into the chat rooms.  I wonder if CapeKaren is on.

Shit, she is.  I DM her.  My pussy is already soaked.

> Hey, bitch.

> What can you possibly want, slut?

> Lots of things.  To fuck your husband some more, for one.

> You stole that idea from me, cxnt.  I thought of it first.  And did it first.

> Behind my back, sweetie.  I'm doing it in your face.  There's a difference.

> You talk.  I act.

> Then act like a wife, honey.  Defend your home.

> Shows what you know.  I'm IN your home, right now.

<<<<I think of that 1970s slumber party/summer camp urban legend of the babysitter picking up the phone from the cops, telling her her stalker is in the house with her.>>>>

> You drove from Barnstable?  This morning?

> Got up at 5 to do it, sweetie.

> My husband is out on a jump, bitch.

> So much the better.  I get to destroy your clothes and take your jewelry without him .... complicit in it.

> If even one button is missing, Karen, I swear you won't live to see your 32nd birthday.

> Sweetie, there won't be as single button left, I promise you that.

> Think, Karen.  Stop.  While you have thd chance.

> Oh, but Michelle, honey, .... don't you understand?  I've been doing nothing BUT thinking of this moment.  Ever since you flooded my house.  Bitch.

> You know I'll find you.  Bitch.

> Game on.

To be continued.....

[wutong369]

Is the final fight game on

[wutong369]

I have to confess that the plot is thrilling

[wutong369]

wait the next steps

[sinclairfan]

DIVORCE PAPERS

I get home from school at the same time I do every day--precisely 3:20, not certain if Karen will still be in my house or not, or what I will do to her if she is.  If she's touched my clothes or jewelry, I'm pretty certain I'll be unable to control myself.

I see a car in the on the curb oustide the street--a black Mercedes.  I don't recall, in my agitated state, from my fight with Karen last Thursday what make or model her car is, but I'm pretty sure it's not a black Mercedes.

An attractive older woman in a red trench coat steps out of the Mercedes and approaches me.  I let my guard down so that she can't see the murderous, territorial rage pulsating thru my veins at the moment.  She hands me a yellow envelope.

"Michelle _____?"

"Yes."

"You've been served, sweetie.  Divorce papers.  Good afternoon."  She pivots a retreats quickly; sensing, correctly, that I'm not to be fucked with this afternoon.  She starts her car and speeds off.

Shit.  While Ben and I were shacking up, my husband and Karen were seeing attorneys.

Well, my husband was.  But was Karen?  Was Ben served today.

Ben runs an after-school Geometry Club.  He'll still be at school.  I log into the net from home on our clunky dial-up AOL.  It takes fucking forever.  I email him:

Ben,
Get this.  I got served divorce papers when I got home.  I think Karen might have the same plan in mind for you.  DO NOT GO HOME.  Not till we can talk about what's going on.  CALL ME AT HOME
Michelle, xoxoxo

I wait for Ben to call.  While I do, I run up to my closet. 

Fuck.  It's stripped.  Everything.  Like the Grinch was here.

I go to my underwear drawer.

Same thing.  Everything gone.

I run down to the computer.  I look and see if CapeKaren is online.  She is.  I dispense with any pleasantries.

> How the fuck am I supposed to go to work tomorrow with no clothes??

> That's your problem, bitch.

> I'm direct messaging a fucking dead woman right now, Karen.

> Big words, Michelle, big words.

> Don't doubt for a second that I'll do it.  First chance I get.

> Ooooh.  Then sounds like I better get you, first, honey.

> Try it, cxnt.  Let me guess.  Your with my husband right now.

> That's right, sweetie.  What they say is true.  The post-divorce sex bender is ....  magnificent.

> The sex is so good because he's thinking of me.  That's why you needed my clothes.

> Think again, Michelle.  He didn't give me a chance to put them on.  So fuck off.

> Fuck you.

The phone rings.

"Hey, it's Ben.  I'm still at school."

"Don't go home tonight, Ben.  She can't start the divorce if she can't serve you the papers.  I had a cousin who went thru this.  Stay at a hotel tonight."

"And then what?

"Let me handle this.  Karen messed with the wrong bitch."

To be continued.....

[catfightlover40]

Michelle is kind of brave to have left a threateningly sounding conversation that could easily be used as evidence

[sinclairfan]

Michelle is kind of brave to have left a threateningly sounding conversation that could easily be used as evidence

Possibly.  But it's 1996.  The general public doesn't have an awareness yet that everything on the internet is permanent. 

[catfightlover40]

Michelle is kind of brave to have left a threateningly sounding conversation that could easily be used as evidence

Possibly.  But it's 1996.  The general public doesn't have an awareness yet that everything on the internet is permanent.

Last Week Tonight did a good sketch on this last year, confronting the reality of how safe women could be online in '95 and now, versus the ads. As an aside, I lost two stories to a now since defunct page and not even a Wayback Machine has a copy of it. Also, nice touch bringing up Memel as the location of the time travel Just in case you're curious, as t'is the season to be jelly, fa-la-la-la, stop pulling on my hair, the first American Christmas tree was erected by a Hessener mercenary in 1777, and the custom itself traversed from Finland to the Germans via Eastern Prussia (now the Baltics and Russia), so, who knows, maybe they do tangle beneath a yuletide

[wutong369]

I feel so pity for michelle.losing husband n clothes n home

[ralbright2010]

Do not worry about Michelle. I think Michelle loves the antics of CapeKaren. It gives her motivation, and justification to deliver a real beatdown, and Karen has proven to be a less than intimidating opponent. I think Michelle gives her a real ass kicking in their next encounter.

[wutong369]

but I think Karen will act nasty n fight nasty

[sinclairfan]

"BE THE BIGGER PERSON"

After getting Ben safely out of harm's way, and mucking up Karen's plan to serve him with papers on the same day I've been served, I call up my school principal to let her know I can't work for the rest of the week, since Karen has swiped my entire wardrobe, underwear included.

Luckily, my principal Gina is a divorced career woman herself, and is chock full of both understanding and good advice.

> Hello?

> Gina, it's Michelle.  I have serious crisis on my hands.

> Oh, no.  What is it, 'Chelle?

> Well, I got served divorce papers today. 

> No!  'Chelle, I am SO SORRY.  What do you need?

> Well, that's actually the second reason I'm calling.  I have .... this is SO embarrassing ....  I don't have access to my clothes.

> What?!?.  'Chelle .... he CANNOT do that.  No matter how bad things are between you two.

> That's the thing Gina ....  HE didn't do it ....  SHE did!

> What?!?  There's a SHE involved.  Do you KNOW her?!?

> No ...  or, well. yes ...   I met her online ..   I guess you would call it .... a few months ago.  I caught her flirting with my husband online.  Internet.  Then, nothing.  Then, I found out my husband had been doing contracting work on her house.  So I confronted her .... and thought I had handled it.  But she's not ready to let go.   Now she got him to file papers.

> 'Chelle, you're totally in the right.  But do NOT handle this yourself.  Be the bigger person.  Do NOT worry about school--I've got you covered here.  I'll teach your class myself if I need to.  But let the lawyers handle this.  Do you have one yet?

> Of course not.

> Ok, I have just the firm for you.  They're in Wellesley.  I can get you in tomorrow.  All women.  They'll do the fighting for you.  The legal way.

> Gina, thank you.

I run out for dinner and to buy attorney's-office-appropriate clothes for tomorrow.  Shit, it's hard to find a women's apparel store open on a Monday night.  I cross my fingers that my credit cards have room on them.

Shit, credit cards.  In my house, they're all in my name because my husband's income was all under the table.  I wonder if all of Ben's are in his name, and if Karen is holding them right now.

> She has one of them.  The American Express card--it has no credit limit.

> Ben, please, cancel it .... so she can't spend money, ok?

> But .... what if I need it later??

> Ben, please trust me ....  everything will work out later.  She has a three day head start on us .... freeze or cancel any account she has access to .... and see a lawyer, TOMORROW... ok? .... I'm seeing one in Wellesley.

> Ooooo, fancy.  How'd you find them??

> My principal put me in touch with them ... lucky, I know.

> I love you.

> I love you, too.  Now get cracking cancelling those accounts and msking a lawyer's appointment.  AND DON'T LET HER SERVE PAPERS ON YOU, K?

I try and fall asleep in the empty house, but give up after tossing and turning for 30 minutes.  I wish Ben was here to fuck me.

I go online.  AOL.  Dial up. 

CapeKaren direct messages me.

> You meddling coward bitch.  How do you know about Ben's American Express card??

> Because he told me, bitch.  Tough spending money now that he cancelled it??

> You butt out of his affairs.  If you want to deal with me, you do so thru your husband, do you understand?

> No, I'm actually quite confused, sweetie.  I thought he doesn't want to be my husband.

> Until the State of Massachusetts says so, he is, dumb ass.

> Fine, smarty pants.  Where is he staying right now, and when can I see him?

> He's staying with me, and you can communicate to him thru ME.  Bitch.

> Well, that's interesting, because any tools and financial records which aren't in his truck are at MY house here, which HE APPEARS TO HAVE ABANDONED, so if either of you want them, you have to get them THRU ME.  Sweetie.

> Don't threaten me ...   or his business ....  Michelle.

> Karen, I haven't even started fucking with you.

> Fuck you, bitch.

I log off.  I watch TV all night.

I drive to Wellesley for my appointment.  I pull up to the lawyer's office.

A black Mercedes is parked outside.

Can that be the woman who served me the divorce papers yesterday?

To be continued.....