My Humilation at the Hands of my Best Friend and Bride Gets WORSE.

[torontocuck]

THE FIRST SIX CHAPTERS CAN BE READ HERE: Parts one, two, three, four, five, and finally, part six.

I had fallen so far off my throne.

My best friend went from a zero to a hero at my expense.

He stole my job, he was apparently fucking my wife, and I had become the laughing stock of not only my neighbourhood, but the workplace.

Andrew had thrown my out of the apartment I shared with him. Worse, he was renting out my room to my buddy, Rob, who at one time could not stand Andrew. Now they were buddies, and both of them packed my stuff into boxes and left it at the front door. They both had a good laugh literally grabbing me and throwing me to the ground, with Rob calling me a "fucking pervert underwear sniffer".

"I am not an underwear sniffer!" I wimpered into the ground as the door slammed shut.

Things were not any easier with my marriage. My wife had decided we needed some time apart after the events of the last few weeks. I pleaded my case with her not to abandon me at my darkest hour, and to stick with me, to believe me! Instead, she barely made eye contact with me and chose to believe every word that my best friend fed her: that I was an underwear sniffer. Perhaps if she didn't see me blowing my nose into his boxers to 'get back at him', she wouldn't have misinterpreted what she saw as proof.

Or perhaps she was just looking at my shame as an excuse to spend time with her new boyfriend, my best friend, Andrew.

Some best friend. It turned out, all the warnings my friends gave to me about him were warnings I should have heeded. He ruined my life and stole my wife. He besmirched my reputation and gave me a new one.

He was fucking...my wife...in his room...while I slept in the next room...oblivious to their betrayal.

I decided to rent out a room and stay there while things settled down, but my bank accounts were frozen. Upon further investigation, my bank account was now in Andrew's name, which was impossible...or so I thought. I remembered once the teller told me of my account's status that, long ago, when Andrew was down on his luck, he had trouble getting a bank account, so I shared mine with his, as he only took out what he needed. It was a business account too, so once I was fired, the account became property of the boss'. Guess it was my own fault for not opening up a separate account.

I made a call to a friend, the one guy who felt sorry for me, James, who just happened to be Andrew's older brother. James offered to let me stay on his couch for a few days while I sorted out my life, and while he didn't ask too many questions, I felt like he knew pretty much the whole story. He told me later on that the rumours about my wife and Andrew were just that - he never, ever saw them romantically together. I guess he was just trying to console me.

I took a walk later at night and saw in the window of my favorite restaurant the worst thing I could have seen at this stage in my life. There, laughing and having a good time was my wife, my best friend, my friends Rob, Joel, their girlfriends, and...James and his girlfriend. There were all my friends, all smiling and having a good time without me. Even the guy who was letting me stay on his couch was having a good time with the man who ruined my life.

I used this opportunity to go back to the house I shared with Laryssa and pick up a few things. I had my key still, but it didn't work: Laryssa changed the locks! Remembering that our bedroom window was still not fixed, I went to the side and jimmy'ed it open, propelling myself up the ledge and falling into the room. The bedroom looked different than I remembered it...new satin sheets on the bed. No pictures of me or my wife and I together on the dresser.

There was a picture of Andrew and Laryssa together on the bedtable beside my wife's side of the bed. She had the biggest smile on her face, she was so happy, wearing the most stunning nightgown. Andrew was behind her, his arms around her waist, holding her stomach, his head hung over her shoulder, a cocky smile captured on his face.

I sat on the bed and realized I was sitting on Andrew's shirt, the one he wore when he fired me. Why was it on the bed? Did they come home and fuck in MY bed after he fired me? I stood up and ripped off the satin sheets in anger, and there, under the covers, were Andrew's boxers, the same ones I was caught "sniffing" at the apartment (the one with the lipstick on the crotch, which still hadn't completely come out). He must have fucked her recently, why would his boxers be still in bed!

I walked over to the closet, my back to the window, not seeing the flickering red police light behind me. I turned on the lights and saw most of my clothes were off their hangers, thrown nonchalantly into a box on the ground. I breathed a sigh of relief, because if Andrew's shirts were there instead, that would have sealed the deal that my worst fear was true - that he was replacing me in every way.

But then something on the bottom shelf of the closet drawer caught my eye. It was an open box of condoms. They weren't mine...which meant my wife was, indeed, fucking without me. I opened the drawer and saw that it was her full of her bras and underwear. I picked up the first bra and saw it was the same one that I found hanging of Andrew's doorknob that day he "caught" me sniffing his boxers. The panties I picked up off the ground in the apartment that day were also identical to the ones in my wife's drawer.

Which meant that the girl Andrew was fucking the shit out off in his room at our apartment, who stayed over in HIS room that day, was indeed, Laryssa. My wife. My beautiful bride was having sex with my best friend.

"FREEZE, ASSHOLE!" I heard someone shout behind me. I turned around and saw two police officers charging me, picking me up off my knees and throwing me to the floor, putting my hands behind my back and handcuffing me.

"What the hell is going on here?" one cop shouted at me.
"I live here, this is my home!" I yelled back, crying in pain.
"You got any ID on you?" the cop asked.
"Not on me, no..." I said, as my wallet was at James' house.
"We got a call from a concerned neighbour that some weirdo had crawled into the window, do that boy?" the cop asked.
"Yes, that was me."
"Let me ask you something boy, if you live here, why are you crawling into your own window?"
"The key didn't work, I mean, the locks, they changed, and, um...." I stammered.
"The locks changed. Right. When's the last time you were here, boy?"
"Last weekend."
"Mmm, hmmm. So if you live here boy, how come there are no pictures of you?"
"I don't know!" I screamed out, crying like a little girl.

The other cop came into the room talking to someone, and once the tears in my eyes faded, I could see he was talking to Laryssa. The cop pulled me to my feet and marched me into the same room with her...only she was with Andrew, Rob and James.

"We caught this guy breaking into your house and rummaging through your underwear drawer." the cop explained to Laryssa.
"I know him. He's my husband." My wife told him, not looking at me. She was the only one who wasn't. All my friends were looking at me with disgust in their eyes.
"What. The fuck. Are you doing." James said to me, a snarl on his face.
"I told you," Andrew said to his brother. "He's got a sick fetish. He's out of control."
"I'm not out of control! I yelled at him, trying to charge him with force, but I was restrained my the cop holding me, and I was still handcuffed.

I was led out of the room and into the cop car by the officer holding me, which I was confused about, because these actions meant that charges were being pressed against me. Why would they press charges? I looked out the window and saw my wife embracing my best friend, her back to me, his face looking at mine. His hand went from her back, slowly to her ass, his smile growing, knowing I could see from the window. I could hear Rob, Joel and James walk past the cop car I was in, one of them saying "Andrew's right, a night in the cell will do him some good". They walked away, Andrew and Laryssa went inside, shut the door behind them, the cops got in the car and we drove away from my home.

"I don't understand what's happening" I told the cops. "I just came to grab a few of my things."
"Well boy," the cop responded. "You didn't tell us you are a little pervert who's been sniffing people's underwear. The lady said she caught you at work sniffing your best friend's underwear, he says he caught you sniffing his girlfriend's. Now we just caught you riffling through the lady's underwear drawer. This is not looking good for you."
"This is all just a big misunderstanding!" I yelled out. "I'm innocent! For goodness sake, that's my wife!"
"Really, boy?" the cop said, turning to face me. "She never referred to you as her husband. But after what jsut happened tonight, even if she is your wife...she isn't going to be for very long."