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I got the call about 5:45 am. It woke me from a sound sleep. It was the kind of call no husband, ever wants to get. The kind of call that hurts you, enrages you, makes you more violent, more helpless than you ever thought possible.

"Mr. Pressman, John Pressman? This is officer Sloptvik with the NYPD Special Victims Unit. I need you to meet me at Franklin Memorial Hospital. Your wife has been raped. Her condition is serious, but stable. She's in room 327."

I was in a fog as I dressed and then drove to the hospital. "Serious but stable", what the fuck is that?

I soon found out.

I entered room 327 and realized I must have had the wrong room. An older woman was lying in the bed, she had bruises all over her face and a cast on her arm. Clearly she was in a lot of pain. She looked up when I entered the room.

"Excuse me ma'am I did not mean to disturb you, they gave me the wrong room #."

She stared at me and as her eyes came into focus, she began to cry.

"...John..." she groaned in a piteous, cracked voice. How did she know my...

"Oh my god, oh no god--Susan!" I screamed as I rushed to her side. I wanted to grab her, to hug and kiss and hold her...but she was in so much pain. He had beat my wife badly. I knew enough about rape to understand that my wife probably did not want a man touching her right then. It could be awhile before she could stand that.

"John...I'm so sorry....he got me. He raped me. I was so stupid, he tricked me," she sobbed.

Instinct took over as I gently held the woman I love and shushed her. "Oh baby girl, please don't say that, don't ever think it. This is not your fault, the police will find out who he is from DNA and he will pay."

"John I know who he is, he's a supervisor in my office. His name is Bruce Kent."

I had a name to focus my hatred on, but I was somewhat controlled because I knew the police would put him in Jail.

"I have to tell you what he did, I can't keep this a secret. John, please let me get it out, I have to. "

I crawled into bed with my wife and wrapped her in my arms, as gently as possible.

"Tell me baby, tell me what he did to you."

"I had noticed him before. We both worked the 8:30 t0 5 am shift--in different departments. He seemed friendly enough, and we'd chat briefly sometimes. I told him I was happily married and he seemed to respect that.

I parked my car and was walking in to work early at 8pm, when I saw him. He had a flat tire on his mini van and was trying to change it. He called me over and asked to use my cell phone. When I got close he slammed me in the face and stomach and pushed me into the van. Then he drove to the top level of the parking garage. At that time of night it was only a skeleton crew, and they all parked near the door on the first floor. I must have blacked out, because the next thing I knew I was naked, bound, and blindfolded.

His fucking hands were roaming all over, pinching, slipping inside me--playing with me. He must have sucked my breasts for 5 minutes, and he kissed me over and over.

"Mmm, nice and tight slut, I'm gonna fuck every hole you have. You're gonna be my whore tonight. Suck my cock, lick my balls, lick my ass and toes. Anything, everything I want. If you don't, if you hesitate...I'm gonna beat the shit out of you. Get me hard bitch, suck my toes, lick in between them. Do it...DO IT! Ok you asked for it, " He said with a growl as he began kicking me, stomping me for my refusal.

"Let's try again. Suck my toes you fucking slut.. Mmm much better. Every one, use that tongue, lick me good-- don't forget the heel...

Outstanding, see that wasn't so bad. I bet your husband loves that tiny, wet mouth of yours. Oops look at the time, I don't want to be late for work, gotta go clock in. Don't worry I'll be back soon. I'm fucking your mouth next." He gagged me, and handcuffed me in place. The van had curtains, and he put one of hose cardboard sunscreens in the front window. He was gone for about an hour.

"Hey honey I'm back. I talked to a few people, I assigned lots of work, and sent several e-mails. I'll go check on everybody soon. But I'm ready for a hot Susan Pressman blowjob. I'm taking your gag off again. The first time you scream, or try to bite, I'm knocking your teeth out. Now get to work."

I sucked him John, I sucked another man's cock....I was so scared."

"You did the right thing baby, as long as you survived, you did the right thing."

My wife seemed to relax a little at my words and just let me hold her and kiss her hair for a few minutes.

"It took about 10 minutes. After I swallowed his cum, he said I was a good girl and deserved a reward. For the next 15 minutes he licked my pussy and nibbled my clit. I tried not to but, I came for him."

That surprised me at first, I mean, he was raping her! Then I thought about it. If a woman tied me up and sucked my cock for 15 minutes....yeah, I'd cum.

"Of course you did baby, anybody would. It's not your fault." My wife turned her bruised head and gave a small wet peck on the mouth before saying, "I love you."

"He left me again this time for about 2 hours." "You know your dept is pretty pissed at you. You really should call if you are not coming in. They are buried in your work. Really Susan it's just good manners. I'm rested up, and just took a Viagra. It's time I got that tight pussy and hot little ass."

It was a nightmare. He fucked me over and over. He kept switching holes. He fucked my ass for awhile, and then pulled out and made me suck him clean, before he began pounding my pussy. Cruel, vicious rips--he wanted to hurt me, to destroy me. The only thing that saved me is your cock is so much larger than his. Still I wasn't lubed, so it was incredibly painful. He came inside my pussy twice in that hour.

"So good sweetheart, I knew you'd be tasty. We're pretty much done. I still need my ass licked, and I want to take some pictures. Of course we need to clean you up too. We'll do that when I come back." Again he was gone for about an hour. This time he laid me on my back and made me eat his ass out. He straddled my face and began to drill me deep.

"I've got 45 minutes before I have to clock out. You have a decision to make. I want you to make love to me, suck, kiss, lick, fuck, willingly, wantonly. If you do when the shift is over, I will let you go. If you don't, I'll keep you for the whole weekend, maybe let my friends fuck you too."

I let him have me, I did my best to please him. Every sex trick I knew, I did for him. He fucked my pussy, and ass, and I begged him for more like a cheap whore. Then he started spitting on me, and I opened my mouth. He spanked my ass, and then started smacking me hard in the face and I kissed him, I asked him to rape me harder.

I told him he was the only man I had ever loved and gave him my wedding ring. He had a digital camera and I let him spread me, film me, any way he wanted. Oh John he took so many pictures. I was terrified, I thought he would kill me. I betrayed you, I betrayed our marriage. You'll never see ME again, just a stupid, sick bitch who made love to her rapist," she cried and whimpered hopelessly.

I was crying too. Something precious had been taken from us. Maybe after that asshole was sent to jail for 30 years...maybe.

"It's not your fault baby, he'll pay for this I swear he'll pay."

Bruce Kent was a very smart guy. He had given himself the perfect alibi. Over a dozen people had seen him throughout the night. He had sent e-mails all shift long. He clocked in and out on time. He rinsed out Susan's pussy, hair, and spit covered face with 2 soapy squeeze bottles, and made her drink half a bottle of tequila and 2 valiums when he was done. Then he set her free, completely naked in an alley several blocks away just after 5am.

Best of all he did not own, or rent a minivan. Between his alibi, and Susan's drugged/drunk state, and no forensic evidence-- the DA decided not to prosecute. You might fool a lawyer, but the cops know the smell of shit, they knew he was guilty. Detective Bullock kept saying "What about her car, why would she leave her car at work if she was out popping pills and chugging tequila?"

Every day I looked at my wife and knew she would never get over this. She jumped at every unexpected sound or touch. She looked like a broken creature with no self esteem.

I began to feel like she expected me to do SOMEthing, to come to her rescue. I tried. I talked to the police, the DA. I even tried to sue Kent in Civil court. No luck. My wife could see how helpless, how impotent I really was. It shamed me. I decide to do something about it. After all, I knew his name, and where he worked.

I guess before I explain this, I better explain about me. And Batman. Now I'm not talking about that Adam West crap, or the Scooby Doo guest star. I'm talking about, for lack of a better word--is the real Batman. The boy whose parent's brains and blood splattered all over him, when some piece of shit murdered them for no reason.

He grew into a man who sneered at scum, who liked to hurt them, scare them, invoke pure terror in them. Call him by his true name the "Dark Knight". If you've never met this version of Batman, try reading Frank Miller's graphic novel "The Dark Knight Returns".

I grew up on it as a kid, I soaked it in as a teenager. I still remember. No he did not kill--he made crooks wish they were dead. He made them pay. He was all about vengeance and justice. It was almost...biblical.

My wife deserved justice, and I would give it to her.

I went to her job and watched her go in early, just like always. She had refused to quit, she just carried mace and a security whistle. A few minutes later asshole showed up. I had taken the bus, from where I had left my car. I never let him get out. I just hit him 3 times with my stun gun through his rolled down window. I pushed him to the passenger side and drove his fancy, loser sports car out of there. Glad he sprung for the tinted windows.

It was dark when I pulled into my garage. I unloaded the trash, handcuffed him , zapped him again and maced him just for fun. Then I put my gloves back on and drove to a seedy area, and left the keys in the ignition. Then I walked 4 blocks uptown to the parking lot I had left my car in, and drove home.

It was 9:45.

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey, I said as I kicked Bruce awake.

We were in my sound proof basement now, and he was tied naked on the carpeted floor.

"Huh, where am I what did you do? HELP!!"

"SSSSh Brucie, be a good girl for me now. Do you know who I am? I'm Susan Pressman's husband."

"Nooo! No please I did not do it, I'm so sorry!" he wailed in contradiction as he pissed himself.

"I've done some research Brucie-girl. The most expensive call girl I could find was $3,000 per night. You could do anything you wanted to her but you had to wear a condom, and if she was injured there was a $2,000 penalty. So let's do a little math Brucie. I've decided my wife is worth 10 times any call girl. You did injure her so that's $5,000 X 10. You owe her $50,000. You did not use a condom, and let's face it she is not a call girl--you raped her. I'm going to charge you $25,000 for that. Her ER, Hospital, and Physical Therapy came to 28,000--yes insurance paid most of that, but I am collecting for them too.

"Finally, you just ruined my carpet by pissing on it. I'm going to charge 5,000 to replace all the carpeting down here. So....you owe $108,000. A top of the line call girl gets $5000 to be abused, but you are not top of the line. I will give you half, $2,500 a session. You can stay right here until you pay us back, then I will let you go. I'm gonna enjoy your sweet little faggot mouth. I don't know if I can stand fucking you-- we will see. Don't worry though Susan's brother Ron, is gay. I'm sure he will help out once I explain what you did to his baby sister."

"Please god, please no don't do this to me!!" he shrieked like a little girl.

"You got a purty mouth Brucie, and I'm gonna fuck it...but I think I want my toes sucked first. Lick between them and don't forget the heel."

Epilogue:

Susan got home around 5:30 and I was just plum tuckered out.

"C'mere baby we need to talk. I did something tonight and you need to decide if you want to be part of it. Go downstairs and look in the basement."

"Ok John, but why are you being so mysterious..."

"John what have you done, Bruce Kent is in our basement?! Oh my god are you going to kill him? I know what he did but murder is wrong."

"Such a sweet baby. No I will not kill him unless you want me to. He raped you, an I will rape him. Susan he took something precious from you. I want you to take it back. Rape that piece of shit Susan. Make him scream, beg, cry for YOU. Shove a dildo up his ass, put his balls in a vise, slap him kick him, piss on him, shit on him -- until you feel justice has been done. Remember how he made you feel, what he did to you for no reason, and then be fair to him."

My wife tucked her head and cried for a long time. Then she looked at me and said, "I love you, I can't believe you did this for me. How long can we keep him?"

The police are not dumb. It was a week before they began to look for him. The Doorbell rang, It was Detective Bullock.

"Good Morning Mr. Pressman, do you remember me? I wanted to alert you that Bruce Kent has gone missing. Now missing persons cases are no big deal. But murder investigations are. Do you have an opinion on whether we will see Mr. Kent again?"

I looked into the cold eyes of the cop before me. He knew! He knew, and as long as we did not kill him, did not care.

"Oh his kind are like rats and roaches they always turn up. I wouldn't be surprised if you found him wandering the streets naked in a week or so. I would not be surprised at all."

DET Bullock stared at me for 30 seconds and then a wicked grin flashed.

"And Justice for All," he said as he turned and walked away.


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