The Bondage Bed

Oh, you know from the title that this is going to be a good one. 

Sometime ago, very shortly after the initial discovery, my daughter in law discovered the ManPig's profile on a hook-up type dating site.  "Just looking for great and casual sex."  Whoa, and I mean whoa.  How do you process that kind of information when you see it there on your computer screen?  It got worse when I thought to input his screen name into Google.  The sites just kept popping up over and over.  If you have a strong stomach, (or proclivities towards such things) type,  marco_polo_malta  into your search engine.  After you have seen a few of his posts, ask yourself if this sounds like a guy with a wife and couple of kids, running a small business.  Or does it sound like a lying cheater whose so full of himself he will never know right from wrong?

After some time of tracking and saving screenshots of his various activities online, I decided to create a fake profile of my own.  Just 3 or 4 lines of text.  No photos of any kind.  Chum in the water.  Well, it didn't take long before that particular fish came sniffing around.  He sent 'her' several messages looking to connect.  'She' wrote back.  Take the bait.  He followed suit.  Set the hook.  Reel him in.  He wrote about his sexual prowess, and that of his bi-sexual 'partner'.  He/they were looking for another woman to join them in bed.  (Something he had wanted me to do when I discovered the affair, but rejected outright.)   I was building information for the eventual court case against him.

Until the bondage bed.

That's what I call it.  He sent photographs to 'her' showing black leather, studded straps which had been fastened or bolted to the bed.  My bed.  The bed he had bought me as a surprise one year while I was away visiting my father before he died.  My pretty white bed is plainly visible in the picture.  He goes on to explain to 'her' how the straps were used and that they "gave a great feel", and are adjustable for the height of the person being restrained.

I was almost physically sick.  It was just too much.  Who is this person to whom I've given the last 22 years of my life?  All of a sudden I felt as if I had been married to a stranger for two decades.  But just like all the rest of the information I had gathered I had to just file it away and try to not let it bother me.  I didn't want to dig any deeper.  I was hoping I had enough information for the lawyer to use in court.  And then he did something stupid.  (I know what you're thinking- how does it get any more stupid?)

In the course of fighting my application for maintenance for myself and my son, he stipulated to the affairs in a declaration to the court.  In writing.  Game, set, match.  Nothing left to prove.  No more need of the fake profile I'd created and all the information I'd accumulated.  And so today, while speaking to him in a very rare phone call, I got so mad I told him that 'she' was me.  And he laughed.  Just laughed right at me.  He said he knew it was me, and that he was just playing me.  True or not, I really don't know.  Certainly he could not have known for very long, if at all, else why send the photographs of the bed?

Is he deranged?  Some kind of psychopath?  Just a mean, sick bastard?

Or once again, just a liar.  About my bed.