Jayson stirred and slowly opened his eyes. His head thumped, his body was stiff, and he had the foulest taste in his mouth. He wondered where he was, why he was on the floor and why he was still wearing his suit. He stretched out to unknit his bones. He ached all over.

Several minutes went by. He was slow to come to his senses. His mind was in a fog. He looked at his watch: 3.35am. He peered through the darkness. He was in his bedroom; by that he meant Isla’s bedroom, the one he shared with Isla until she decided otherwise and in which he was permitted to enter only when she allowed. The faint glow of the alarm clock cut the darkness, and he saw the silhouette of Isla sleeping peacefully. Her bare chest expanding and contracting with each breath. He reached out to touch her but thought better of it and stopped himself.

He sat on the floor at the foot of Isla’s bed. His mouth and face were stiff from dried cum. His breath was foul, his stomach churned and he felt nauseous. He crawled toward the bedroom door and stood once he’d crossed the threshold. He made his way to his bedroom at the rear of the house. He entered the attached bathroom and threw himself at the toilet. Immediately the convulsions started. Abdomen and diaphragm working as one to expel the contents of his stomach. It lurched from his mouth into the toilet; his eyes were closed, but he dared not look anyway. Convulsion after convulsion, each one bringing up less and less until they eased. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then reached up to flush the contents. He stayed in that spot in quiet recollection and reflection. Tears formed in his eyes, and he began to weep.

His working life was nothing but successful. His private life was the complete opposite. By now he had expected to have children, several in fact, but despite trying and tests, Isla appeared barren. She flat out refused adoption and was ‘still considering’ IVF. Jayson now knew that was all a lie.

He recalled the day they reconnected. He recognised her immediately seated in that café, but he had a prior engagement and thought as she was still in town, they could catch up anytime. Only when he saw her tear around the corner and scan the crowd did he know she was looking for him, and ice cream was as good a medium as any to reconnect. She was charming, gracious, polite and still drop-dead gorgeous. The blowjob she gave him after dinner that night at Romano’s was the best he’d ever had, and she swallowed every drop. Isla pushing her face into his lap, not giving him a choice of where he blew. Little did he realise that was the start of a common theme. Choice. He didn’t have one.

From that day on Isla took control of Jayson’s life. Slowly, subtly, covertly. She made sure she controlled everything. What they did, who they befriended, where they lived. She even made Jayson get rid of his Border Collie “Nimitz”, claiming she was allergic to dog hair. The wedding especially had to be by Isla’s exact specifications. She refused to be married in a church in keeping with Jayson’s Catholic faith, insisting on a garden wedding. Next, she refused to change her name to Brenner, arguing it was a tradition she did not subscribe to and that she was to be Jayson’s wife, not his property. All this made Jayson’s mother apoplectic and created a permanent rift between the two. Her dress, bridesmaids, food, music, flowers, rings – everything approved by Isla. It had to be perfect.

Isla did, however, make sacrifices for the sake of the marriage. She gave up working and expected to be a kept woman. She also modified her gym schedule from two days a week to four. That goddess physique wasn’t going to keep itself. Besides, she worked hard to get the body she had and she wasn’t going to give it up for anything, including children.

Then there were her extracurricular activities. The string of lovers she accumulated since being with Jayson was almost incalculable.

It was 4.15am when Jayson got to his feet. His eyes were bloodshot from throwing up. His mouth was foul from bile. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked broken. He brushed his teeth, started to undress and ran the shower as he continued to take stock of his life. Where did it all go wrong, and how did he let it get so catastrophic? The steam was filling the bathroom, so he stepped in, and he let the hot water try to wash all his worries away. It didn’t work totally, but he felt much better.

With his bag already packed, Jayson dressed in his Navy whites. He checked himself in the mirror and saw the family lineage. His father, grandfather and two uncles were all Navy officers. He even considered enlisting after graduation, guaranteed to go directly to the J.A.G. Corp, but much better pay pointed him towards the civilian sector. Checking himself, he also determined Isla has no idea what she’s missing. The thought stopped him. He couldn’t recall another time when he spoke negatively of his wife. He smiled to himself for that. He made a fresh pot of coffee and was filling his travel mug when he heard her voice behind him.

“Good morning, sailor boy. Are you off to play with your boats?” Isla said mockingly.

Jayson looked at her and kept filling his mug.

“I said”, Isla continued, “good morni...” Her voice had a stern tone, but Jayson cut her off.

“I heard you the first time,” Jayson replied. The curt nature surprised Isla.

“Are you giving me sass?” Isla quizzed.

Jayson looked directly at Isla. She saw a confidence in his eyes she thought she’d smothered.

“Isla, understand this,” Jayson had turned on his officer voice,

“I am wearing the uniform and carry the rank of Commander in the United States Navy Reserve. I am not a sailor boy. You place no value in me personally, and that is entirely your loss, but you will pay this uniform the respect it deserves, especially when I am standing in it. Do I make myself clear?”

Jayson spoke with a confidence that shook Isla. She hadn’t seen that in him since before they were married, and she had no idea how to respond.

“I have reserve duty. I’ll be back on Saturday.”

Jayson collected his things and walked out of the house. By the time he got to his car, he thought his knees would give way. He hadn’t felt this alive at home in years. The episode gave him a hard-on. He pulled out of the driveway, smiled and spent the rest of the drive planning.

Isla remained in the kitchen after Jayson left, quietly seething. “Do I make myself clear?” she repeated angrily.

The next day Isla walked into the gym. Recognised a few regulars and started her workout. As usual, the guys could not stop staring at her. She knew this and not just thrived on it; she dressed to encourage it. Skin-tight half-length pink leggings and a matching sports bra. She looked good enough to eat.

She started on the treadmill and ran a lazy 5 miles, then went to the bike for another 5. Later it was light weights for her upper body and heavier weights for her legs. She did sit-ups and squats to work her abs, and she finished with the stepper to keep her ass toned. She scanned the gym as she worked out, ‘on the hunt’, as she put it, for new meat. But she wasn’t as enthusiastic as she normally was during a new search. Trent and Darby had to be replaced, but no prospects appeared. Even Daniel was nowhere to be seen, but Elijah will always remain.

Regardless, Isla’s mind was elsewhere. Jayson was different. She hadn’t seen him so confident in years. Confident and defiant. This concerned Isla. Was it the uniform? Did she push him too far, and now he was pushing back? Was he having an affair? Had he decided the vile, foul things she made him do were no longer worth keeping her? Was her fanatical desire to control the men in her life now starting to backfire on her?

She thought long and hard and did so for the whole week.

Jayson returned home after his Naval Reserve duty with an eagerness he had not felt in years. The last 7 days away had given him perspective, clarity, confidence and a new lease of life. The Jayson Isla knew, or more correctly, groomed, was dead. Old Jayson had taken his place.

He had already driven past the gym and saw Isla’s car in the car park. He gazed at his watch as his key hit the door. He had more than enough time. He had much work to do.

When Isla returned home, it was just in time to see Jayson loading his golf clubs into his car. She stopped and watched. Not once did he raise his head, turn to greet her or even acknowledge her presence. She parked the car and walked towards him.

“Where are you going?” Isla asked.

Jayson ignored her.

“Hello?” Isla said, “Did you hear me, Jay…?”

Jayson stopped and looked directly at her.

“Wow,” he said brightly, “you must be slipping.”

“Excuse me?” Isla asked.

Jayson continued, “For one, you nearly called me Jayson. You said years ago that I wasn’t man enough to be called by my first name, and you told me you would never say it ever again.” Jayson said confidently,

“Secondly, you look seriously hot in your gym gear. Genuinely hot. You have all the right curves in all the right places. Yes, indeed.”

Isla smiled at the praise, even if it was from Jayson.

“How is that a bad thing?” Isla asked.

“It isn’t,” Jayson replied, “but as hot as you are, and with you being, well, you know, you, there should be a gallon of cum pouring out of your cunt, and there isn’t. That means there were no prospects at the gym, and you haven’t been gang fucked. So, like I said, you’re slipping.”

Jayson looked at her, defiant. Isla hated that word. Her smile disappeared immediately.

“I’m right, aren’t I? Were there no prospects at the gym?” Jayson asked.

“You must have tried; you’re home forty-five minutes later than usual,” Jayson said, looking at his watch. “What about the coffee shop, or the mall, or even the homeless shelter?” he chuckled.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like th...”

Jayson interrupted her, “Isla, for once in your life, please shut the fuck up.”

Isla was shocked. Jayson never swore. He never swore at her. His confidence struck her and stunned her silent.

“I’m leaving for my golf trip. I’ll be back on Friday.”

Without so much as a wave or a goodbye, Jayson slipped behind the wheel of his car and drove away. His smile was irremovable. The bait was set.

Isla stood there roasting in the heat of her own anger. He's going to pay for this, she thought to herself. He was going to pay dearly for this.

Almost an hour later, Jayson pulled into the car park of a nondescript hotel and slipped quietly into his room. He had a lot of work to do.

Part 5 is coming soon.

© Oddjobber 2025.