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I did something really bad. About four years ago, the internet started to slow down at our house. Spoke to a guy I knew at work who said maybe my browser's history was full. I went home. I opened up the internet. Aaron, such unspeakable things I saw. Pornography. Mostly animal pornography. There's only two people who use that internet. Me and my wife, Angela. And I was not looking at animal pornography, Aaron. I confronted Angela. She flat-out denied it. What could I say? I knew it was her. This lie drove a wedge between us, and we began to drift apart. One weekend, I said we should come up to the cabin. Right here. But on Saturday, I was called back to work, so I left Angela here by herself. The thing is, I wasn't really called back to work. I went down the street to the 99 cent store. There I found a mask. It was a wolf. Three hours later, I came back to the house. I put the mask on. I broke in through the back window. Angela was asleep. I tied her up, at which point she awoke. At which point, we proceeded to have ravenous, animalistic sexual intercourse. I'd never seen her so happy. I have to admit, it didn't feel terrible on my end. I escaped through the window and left her there, tied up. When I came back the next morning, as myself, I asked her how her night was. She said it was fine, with a casual smile. We never spoke of it. We went home. And in the weeks that followed, the internet got back up to speed. Aaron, I raped my own wife.
