Julia Forster

Benjamin was now fast asleep in our bed as if nothing had occurred while the anguish was still pouring through me like an aftershock. My entire body, including my face and neck, were in excruciating pain. When it came to being physical, he never held back at any point. It has always been in this manner. I was hopelessly entangled in a marriage that was meant to fail from the very beginning, yet I refused to give up. Despite the fact that it was very thin.

I found myself mumbling, "I can't do this," as I slowly rose up from the bed. The pangs from Benjamin' onslaught continued to reverberate throughout my body, but I was able to get myself off the bed and leave the room. Despite the fact that I was worn out, I was unable to fall asleep. Because I knew I would only be tormented by bad dreams regardless, I decided to seek refuge on the couch in the living room and think about how my life could have gotten to this point.

While Benjamin was resting, I couldn't help but feel envious of his ability to get some shut-eye after everything that had taken place. It's possible that he's become accustomed to it, and now it's just something that he does as part of his routine.

After three years, we started dating back when we were in college. I remember feeling joyful and thinking that I was the happiest person alive on planet that day when we began dating. Because, after all, wasn't it everyone's goal to get married and spend the rest of their lives with the one they loved the most? Benjamin Forster was the perfect gentleman; he was kind, kind, and understanding back then. He was the guy of my dreams. Had he undergone any sort of transformation over the course of the years? Even the wedding is a clear memory for me; it was lavish, full of pomp and circumstance, and attended by a large number of well-wishers and visitors. I never stopped kidding myself into thinking that perhaps it was because of the work that he did. When his father passed the reins of a large, extremely successful firm on to him, he underwent a dramatic transformation into an entirely different person. Prior to that, he had been managing the company.

He was no longer the kind and compassionate Benjamin; rather, he had hardened into a cruel man. His once-warm personality has been completely transformed into one of ruthlessness. The eyes that blazed with aspirations and desires transformed into the blank, emotionless eyes of a statue that simply wanted to accomplish whatever it was that it wanted to do. Working late into the night on the business, attending meetings, and traveling internationally to meet with potential customers pushed his mental well-being to its breaking point.

Where exactly did we make our mistake? I was always attentive to his every want, and I made sure there was food on the table whenever he came, but once we were married, everything changed. I am no longer responsible for his needs. Radically.

I was only present; he hardly acknowledged my presence since he spent a greater amount of time in the workplace than he did with me. He would stay there through the late evenings and even the early morning hours. There were several occasions in which he did not even return to the house. What brought about this shift in you, Benjamin? I never stopped questioning myself.

But the answer that came to my mind was always "No. He did not alter. He just took off the mask that he had been using for all of that time and let his actual nature to shine through. At first, I was resistant to the idea of accepting it since it was such an awful thing to consider. I recoiled in horror at the thought that he has always been a monster; might he be a sociopath? To suggest that he was constantly unconcerned about how other people felt and that his opinion was the only thing that counted is absurd.

One evening, a number of years ago, he arrived home in an incoherent state after getting drunk and began babbling about how the company's stocks were plummeting and how he needed to do something about it. During that time, he was in a state of despair and working really hard to get it back into shape; during those evenings, I did my best to soothe him. When we were going over the issues that the firm was having, we lost a significant number of nights' worth of sleep. He suspected that some of the board members who had been there for a while were engaging in questionable financial behavior, therefore he was looking into ways to remove them. He was successful in achieving his goal, but as a result, he evolved into the monstrosity that he is today. After he had succeeded in rescuing the firm, I suggested to him that we should take a trip for a change. That was the first time he made an impression on me. It was necessary for him to take his mind off of the business.

He had yelled at me at that time, "Fuck off!" as I was holding the face that he had struck, but he had stopped then recognizing what he had done and he comforted me, and he even apologized for losing his cool at that point. I was holding the cheek that he had struck. There was a point where I should have just walked away.

Because there is a proverb that states people who have done something once will do it again, and this statement is true. That is accurate the vast majority of the time. The lessons I should have learned from those years continue to haunt me now.

There was a point where I should have just walked away.

But although knowing it was a fool's dream, I clung to the belief that one day, when the moment was perfect, he would come to terms with what he had done and alter his behavior. Maybe this time he'll remember that I'm a human being and start treating me as such. But for the time being, he was a monstrosity that I was unable to identify.

After he had hit me for the first time, he just stopped pretending, and with that, the deception that I was his wife came to an end. When he invited clients over for dinner, which I would cook with all of my heart, I was nothing more than a trophy for him to show off in front of his visitors. Trying to lend him any assistance I can in his efforts to win over his firm.

Because I was nothing more than a plaything in his eyes, we would only make love at his whim. A doll. Someone for him to vent his anger on; nothing more than that.

I felt the tears well up in my eyes once more; it seems to be a recurring theme in my life right now; I married the guy of my dreams, yet I still end up being sad. It resembles the paw of a monkey. However, there is a catch to what you wish to happen. A twisted vision of the future. You finally meet the man of your dreams, but the relationship turns out to be the very worst nightmare you've ever had.

However, even at the darkest of hours, I would still desire and beg for something better.

One day, just let it be one day, he will understand that he is able to love other people, and when that day comes, he will be able to love me as well. Just give us one day.

I scream out in a pitiful manner, "I love you, Benjamin," which is an absurd statement; was I mistreated to the extent that I fell in love with the person who was abusing me? Is this an example of the Stockholm syndrome, or am I just desperately clinging to something in the hope that I might somehow disprove fate's predictions? "Maybe one day you will learn how to love others; I hope that day comes soon because right now, I need your love," you may say. "I hope that day comes soon because right now, I need your love."

Benjamin Forster

Everyone else is below me here in Los Angeles because I am on top of the city. That is something that can never be taken away from me. My name is Benjamin Forster, and I am the most skilled person in my field; but, the work I make is not always appealing to look at. A few years ago, when I took over the failing business that my father had left to me, I decided to give it my all in order to restore it to its former grandeur. It did. Additionally, it exceeded its previous glories by going above and beyond its expectations. Everything is my fault.

I try to go to the workplace as early as possible; the idea of having to spend another hour with that woman at home is beyond my comprehension. She always managed to get on my nerves by behaving as if she were as powerful and as intelligent as I am. She was insignificant. Simply said, all she was was a lovely face.

It was my idea to outfit the firm with marble columns, which gave off an air of quality. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the Forster Trading Corporate, it was a pleasure to watch people working hard. The company halls were lined with marble columns. I came dangerously close to breaking my back while lugging this failing business and bringing it back from the brink of death in order to ensure that those people would continue to have work.

We were responsible for the transportation of a wide variety of goods, including steel works, agricultural equipment, food, and other resources that different governments throughout the world utilize for their own nations. Because these helped the corporation bring in more money overall, the company also engaged in some illegal commercial activities known as black operations. These were nothing more than handguns and other types of weaponry that are currently in service with the armed forces of certain nations.

Back then, my father made a huge mistake, and since he was afraid that the responsibility would fall on me if the business failed, he gave it to his only son so that he could absolve himself of any responsibility for the fallout. Because I was so angry, I channeled my energy into rebuilding it and cutting him out of it completely by revealing what he had done.

Everyone found out who I am and what I am capable of doing right at that moment and location. It makes no difference to me whether they are made of blood if they are unsuccessful. Being ruthless, being calculated, and having a cold demeanor are the essential qualities that are required for a tycoon like myself to achieve my goals and become successful.

An intern greeted me with "Good morning, Mr. Forster" as I strolled through the magnificent hallways of my firm; nevertheless, I paid him no attention at all. Why should I lower myself to meet someone who isn't getting paid? They were just here because it was required for their schoolwork.

"Mr. Forster!" a lady yelled out as she raced up to me at this moment, and I stare at her. She flinched as I looked at her since it was usually a terrible idea to bother me so early in the morning because I have dismissed staff for less than that in the past.

She was out of breath as she talked to me, and I observed that she was vividly flushing as I stared at her. "These shipments to Poland require your signature before we can give them the go signal." She was probably in her early twenties, and she had brown hair that flowed in waves, both of which drew my attention to her. She was a young woman. It's possible that I'll end up sleeping with this one next. But before that, some business.

"Are those the steel beams that were sent out?" I question her in a blank manner, and she strongly nods, that a construction company had asked us to transport these to Poland for the usage of a customer, and because it was a large account, I agreed to do this. It is very likely that we could make a few of million dollars by doing so.

I take out my pen, reach inside the pocket on my chest, and sign the paper that she was holding. "Anything else?" I inquire more, and she responds by shaking her head. “Dismissed.” As soon as I started making my approach towards the office, the woman exited the building without wasting any time.

My secretary, who was also another lady with whom I had slept, was already at her desk so early. She greeted me by saying, "Mr. Forster, you will have a meeting with a possible customer after lunch." They are quite enthusiastic about conducting business with us.

This one was a woman with red hair and glasses; her freckles made me want her, and ultimately, I was successful in acquiring her. If there is enough time, I would like to sleep with her.

"Tell me about the encounter with that moronic councillor," you asked. I ask her, I hated dealing with politicians because they believe they're hotshot schemers, but in reality, they're simply dogs with a big bark but little bite. I ask her, I disliked dealing with politicians because they think they're hotshot schemers. It was a fun pleasure to see them wriggle and squirm as I bullied them into accepting my offers, but being in their presence made me feel uncomfortable and sticky.

The redhead looked over the stack of papers that had been placed in front of her desk, and then she just shook her head and said, "I don't believe that's on the agenda for today, sir."

“Great. My workplace is where you can find me. Please alert me when my presence is required. I tell her, "Only major developments," as I walk into my office, which is my own private area in which I have complete freedom to do whatever the heck I want. Who cares if I had sex with many ladies here since I did it anyway? Who cares what I do as long as I can keep the business going and give them consistent numbers? No one gives a rat's behind about what I do.

There was a pile of documents, and I heaved a sigh of exasperation at the fact that there were outstanding contracts that needed to be inspected and signed. I was under the impression that I should only conduct business with large corporations, and as a result, I would only let my own firm engage in transactions with smaller enterprises as a gesture of charity and grace. In this manner, a favorable impression of ourselves would be conveyed to the rest of the globe. Since it did not generate any income and would often cause a loss of funds for our company, I will only consent to it happening during very profitable months.

I sat down in my office chair, which was made of leather and had been well cleaned by the cleaning staff. It has always been convenient for me to be in an environment in which I can conduct my business in peace and without interference.

I just caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye, but it was enough to start getting on my nerves. On top of one of the drawers was a picture of the person.

As I stand up from the chair and move closer to the object in question, I mutter under my breath, "I thought I fucking took care of this already." It was a picture of Julia and myself taken during our wedding. Julia was my bridesmaid. Everything seemed so hopeless to me at that time. I didn't give it a second thought before grabbing it and tossing it in the trash can.

“Trash. As I was making my way back to the desk, I said to myself, "Where you deserve to be."

I had married that woman so that I might advance my social standing, but in my eyes, she was nothing more than a piece of meat. The fact that a man is successful in business also makes him a good husband and father. If I weren't married, rumors and gossip about my status and maybe even my sexual orientation would spread like wildfire.

I've never been able to wrap my head around the idea of love; why would anyone want to devote themselves to a single partner for the rest of their lives without taking into account the possibility that the partner may alter your life in ways that you could never recover from? I would just dedicate myself to the company and nothing else. I had married Julia because she was the ideal toy for me; she is naive, innocent, and believes in the idea of love. I had married Julia. To some extent, I feel that she still believes in it, which makes her an even more repulsive person. She was the type of woman who was interested in listening to tall tales and nonsense. That just is not the case. It was never the case. She was nothing more than an object of my passion, just like every other woman who has ever entered my life; they were all nothing more to me than fleshlights for me to take pleasure in. My own wife never raised an objection whenever I brought another lady into the house, even though I did it on a regular basis. She could even hear us banging and fucking away, yet she would still allow it to happen despite the fact that she could hear it. Because I would severely punish her if she spoke out, if she did. Which made me delighted since I wanted to exert some degree of control over her. to torture her whenever she acts in a disobedient manner. to make use of her when I was unable to locate anyone else to utilize.

To me, she is nothing more than that. Someone or something I despise.

Before beginning to work on the piles of material in front of me, I found myself saying, "I fucking hate you." "I fucking hate you," I said to myself.

Benjamin Forster

The day was almost over, just a minute or so before I would finally be free to do what I wanted, but somehow, in some fucked up way, some person manages to barge in at the time I least expect them to. "Fucking hell," I muttered to myself as another knock on the door brought me out of my reverie. The day was almost over, and just a minute or so away, I would finally be free to do what I wanted.

"Mister Forster?" When I had nothing else to do, I would usually distract myself with Vivian, the gorgeous redhead secretary that I had recruited.

“Yes? "This better be worth the over time I am not getting paid for," I grumpily asked her while glancing at my watch for effect. She appeared both embarrassed and sheepish as I responded to her in a rude manner, but this is what they are used to seeing from me because I am the kind of boss who is "no bullshit, no nonsense."

"There is someone here, his name is Mister Stella Sanders, and he is representing the private military corporation known as "Surge Tech," which is a company that we do business with. "According to him, the situation is critical"

As I tried to piece together what was going on in my head, my thoughts kept drifting to the underlying need of me wanting to kick back and start drinking in a pub somewhere while I tried to recover the memory of what I had to do with this Stella Sanders. My thoughts flitted past like butterflies as I tried to piece together what was going on. There are a lot of things going through my head, and that is the reason why I am the most powerful magnate in Los Angeles. It is because of these things that I was able to maintain a firm grasp on the reins of power, even as everyone else below me shook with fear.

I eventually recalled the transaction that we had been going through, so I told her, "Ah, I see." It had something to do with a shipment of weaponry to a nation in the Middle East, which his men will use to assist some men in combating a developing insurrection in the region. There were a few problems with it, and the FBI was listening in closely on the agreement. They have stated that they will not hesitate to intervene if they believe that we are putting the safety of the United States at risk. "Let him in."

Jenkins entered the room looking like he had been through a lot, stressed out and frazzled, yet despite his appearance, he exudes an air of authority.

"Mister Forster, it is fantastic to finally meet in the flesh," he informed me with an accent that seemed like it was coming from Europe. He extended his hand, and I firmly shook it. "The level of intensity that I bring to the table personally could not possible be contained in any of the video sessions that we had"

I responded with "Stella," ignoring the honorific he had previously used. "Well, if that's the case, then this must have something to do with the FBI keeping a close eye on our shipments, doesn't it?"

The man chuckled as though I had told a really good joke, and then he said, "Ah yeah, yes, your country's Bureau or whatever they want to be called." We have an agreement with them that states they are not allowed to touch us as long as we stay out of their path. This is completely unrelated to anything else, Mister Forster."

I searched my memory for the appropriate response, but I was never informed that the FBI issue had been resolved. Those employees in my "Intelligence" section are going to receive a little reprimand in due time. "Ah yes, sorry, there's been a lot on my plate recently. I haven't been able to keep up with everything that's been going on, but obviously the FBI has been taken care of by now. But what is this whole new thing? "What exactly is it?" I questioned him with the expectation that he would not notice that I had smoothed things up in order to give him the impression that I was unaware that the FBI issue had been resolved.

"There is some type of politician here that wants in on the transaction, and he will send us another shipment of weapons to give to our people over there, but he wants me to make sure that you are in on it," the person said. "I want to make sure that you are in on it." Jenkins remarked to me while I was trying to take in the information that I had just been given and he smiled at me.

I cast a cursory glance at the clock and saw that barely three minutes had passed, but it felt like a lifetime had passed. The desire, the need, and the lust for alcohol, for booze, and to live recklessly started to tighten on me, but I buckled my thoughts up and smiled sweetly at Stella Sanders. I felt as though I had lived a lifetime.

"Is this for a deal that will take place behind closed doors, or is this going to be official?" I smiled in response to his question, and he rolled his eyes in response, which was the deciding factor in the situation.

"Very well, Mister Jenkins. I will let the people below me know about the new arrangement that has been formed with "Surge Tech," as well as the fact that covered shipments are about to come, and that they will most likely be transported to the same area. Jenkins gave me a reassuring smile when I said that I had "struck the nail on the head" with that statement.

"Yes, I think that would be wonderful. Jenkins said menacingly, "Remember, Mister Forster, everyone's reputation is at stake here, and we do not wish to hit any more snags as we have heard reports of some people in your company snooping around on our 'private' shipments," and I almost flinched as he said it because it was a veiled threat, there was a rumor going around about corporate espionage going on, and I still had not managed to get on It was an issue that needed to be fixed, but I have a lot of time to do it now.

I stood up from my seat at the table, and Jenkins, interpreting it as a hint that the meeting was coming to a close, did the same thing. He shook my hand once more before leaving the room. As he tossed the fresh stack of papers onto my desk, he had a sly look in his eyes that suggested he was hungry.

After a cursory review, I discovered that it would bring in an additional three billion dollars in revenue for my organization. What a steal, right? I put my signature on the documents and then gave them to Vivian, who waited until I had left for the day before she would go anywhere else.

I instructed her to "Bring this to the correct channels, this is under the table, so quiet," and as I left the company, finally ready to get my party on, she simply nodded silently in response. "Bring this to the proper channels, this is under the table, so hush."

—- The bar that I typically went to for late-night drinks was really busy today for some unknown reason, and there were a lot of people there. As I made my way across the dance floor in search of my regular table, which was usually reserved for me, the pounding roar of the music muffled the wild and boisterous slurring that they were engaging in.

When people noticed who was strolling among them, several of them did a double take. These peons, pissants, or whatever they are definitely appreciated the attention they received from staring. The strobe lights that flooded the space were not able to disguise my identity; yet, I did not care because it was irrelevant to the situation. Who was going to give a damn if I went out partying, drank some alcohol, and had a good time? My wife? You've got to be joking.

I walked by a man who said, "Oh, Mister Forster!" as I did so. As I did so, he shamelessly prostrated himself before me while pulling at my leg. I attempted to move it away from him, but he had such a grasp on it that I thought the fabric may be ripped if I tried any further. "Please, I was let off from your company just today, and this is the only thing that's keeping me afloat in life."

Although I was able to make out these terrible remarks despite the loud music that was playing in the background, I did not feel any empathy for him as I looked down at him. He had an unremarkable appearance and did not stand out in any way, which meant that I was not familiar with him or whatever he performed. A poor grunt who was most likely let go by a boss at one of the organizations that fall under my umbrella.

"How is it any of my business?" When I responded with sarcasm, he tightened his grip on my leg, which annoyed me further. I was giving him the finger. I didn't come to this place to listen to some whimpering wretch dump snot all over my well-tailored jeans; I came here to have fun. "I do not even know you," the speaker said.

As he continued speaking, he swallowed his pride and embarrassment and said, "Please, sir, I need this job to support my family."

As others began to notice what was going on, they began to stare; thus, it was imperative that I take the appropriate action before the situation became much more precarious than it already was.

I tell him in a severe tone, "This is a pub that caters to the affluent and well-to-do. How are you here then, if you would cry about feeding your family?"

I made a move toward a bouncer, and he recognized me right away and looked over to see what was going on. Instantaneously, he moved in my direction. The man struggled violently while the bouncer held him aloft as if he weighed nothing, and the bouncer continued to hold him.

"Come along gently now," the bouncer calmly remarked, unperturbed and undisturbed by the man's attempts to free himself from his grasp. "Don't annoy the other guests," the bouncer said.

I gave the bouncer a little tap on the shoulder as they were leaving my area, and as he came around to face me, he saw that I was taking something out of my pockets.

I did not make an effort to find out his name because everyone already knew mine, and that was all that was important. "For you, Bouncer," I told him. For situations exactly like this one, I had a couple of hundred dollar dollars stashed away in my pockets, and he accepted them with gratitude. I turned to him and stuffed a handful of these hundred dollar notes, which added up to potentially hundreds of dollars, into his pocket while muttering, "For you, loser."

Since I was a regular customer, I was given my own honorary place, and because I did spend a significant amount of money at this establishment, the proprietor personally bestowed upon me the right to use this particular booth as my own. The room made way for me as I continued to walk through it, and my table was already waiting for me there. It was the ideal VIP booth in which I could have my own personal space.

She was wearing a revealing dress that cut deep into her own chests, and her cleavage was literally demanding for me to delve in, but I had to contain myself since I wanted a drink first. "Mister Forster," the hostess cooed. She was wearing a revealing dress that cut deep into her own chests. I couldn't be bothered to learn her name, so I just grinned at her instead. She had strawberry blonde hair, and the cherry red outfit that shimmered perfectly complemented her. I could already see the men around the booth almost undressing her with her gaze, but this was mine to do with as I pleased.

"It's wonderful to be back," I remark to her in a light-hearted manner as I settle into the plush velvet chair with a cushion, thinking to myself that it's been a long time since I've been this relaxed. "Well, since we're here, why don't we have my standard?"

The young lady flashed a grin as she waved her palms in front of the bartender, who was already fully aware of what I ordered as my "regular" —-

Her lips parted my mouth, and I could feel her attempting to lick every area of my mouth. Meanwhile, her hands were stroking me and rubbing at my chest, my thighs, and my dick, which was starting to become more firm. She was stroking it quite vigorously; the booth had been locked off, and no one would dare to peep into Benjamin Forster's very own private VIP chamber. I was able to get her off the couch and place her on the table with very little effort, and she chuckled the whole time, as if she found it amusing to be dominated in this manner.

She spoke to me in a lustful tone and smirked at me as I separated her legs and positioned myself in between them. "Well, someone's playing rough today," she remarked. "Well, someone's acting rough today." But the desire and the impulse to do so abruptly vanished from me as thoughts of my wife began to pour into my brain at the same time as the new agreement, which was starting to sound frenetic due of the involvement of the politician who must remain nameless.

My rage, combined with my intoxicated thoughts and the alcohol that was already in my veins, began to make my erection weaken, so I dropped myself back down on the couch, and she sat up, looking a little bit dissatisfied with what she saw.

She questioned me while gently stroking my face, "Augie, are you okay?" as I turned my head away from her.

I did not reply to her as I proceeded to consume the beverage in front of me. Once more, the booze gave me a rush, but all I could do was stare around pityingly, as if I had completely lost the desire to drink at all.

After consuming one drink after another in complete quiet for an hour, I eventually left the establishment, somewhat wobbling as I signaled to Preston, a driver whom I had on standby for times when I was having one of these drinking binges, to take me home.

I wanted a break from everything, but as soon as I remembered what a hot mess of a woman I would have to deal with when I got home, I started to feel the wrath building up again.