Revenge of an Abused Wife

Or
How I Humbled My Husband

Part 1

Frankie sat quietly on the little seat in front of the mirror. He was still not sure about all of the
science surrounding his plight but he was certain now that he was in this situation for the long haul. It
wasn’t that he liked it, or that he accepted it, but he had resigned himself to the fact that life, as he knew it
would not be the same. He stood up, examining himself in the mirror he pushed a lock of hair behind his
left ear revealing the small hoop earring installed the day before just above it a small diamond stud a hip
reminder of college days gone by. Frankie understood now the error of his ways, he also knew that his
wife, Debra, was much stronger willed than he had ever reckoned, far more intelligent and ever in control
of her emotions and her life. He also realized that he had been an ass and his once superior attitude had led
him astray; this he was just beginning to understand.
Debra Davis was a research associate in the genetics lab of G-Nom Biotech, a government
sponsored laboratory searching for answers to the genetic makeup of human beings. Debra and Frank had
started dating in high school, broken up in college, gotten back together not long after Frank had graduated
and they were married when he had started law school. Debra was within one quarter of graduation with a
degree in biochemistry but dropped out to support her new husband with his quest to become an attorney.
When Frank finished school the accumulated debts made Debra’s return to school almost impossible and
besides she made more as a researcher than he did as a neophyte attorney (a situation that angered Frank
every time he thought about it).
Debra was quite happy with her job. She was using her education and skills in chemistry to her
advantage and was working her way up the ladder at G-Nom. This was in sharp contrast to Frank who,
during the five years since completing his law degree had spent his time moving from one firm to another
without success and without a regular income. He did, however, find plenty of opportunity to remind
Debra that he was a lawyer and she had never made it out of college. Debra took the cutting criticisms and
oft times humiliating remarks of her husband in stride, always seeing the glass half full rather than half
empty.
One Sunday night Frank had gone surprisingly out of his way to humiliate his wife. He had
invited his drinking buddies over to watch a prize fight and in the process had become increasingly drunk
and obnoxious. At the end of every round Frank would call out for more beer or snacks and when Debra
brought them he would make comments. Once he said that her lack of education made her perfect waitress
material. Another comment suggested that it wasn’t her three and half years of chemistry that got her her
job but rather her cute smile and little wiggle. Frank chortled that if he had her sexy body he could be
working for the biggest law firm in town. When the friends had gone Debra told her husband that she was
embarrassed by his remarks, that she would appreciate a little more respect since she was not only
supporting him, but paying off his student loans as well.
Frank’s temper exploded. He grabbed Debra by the arm and twisted until tears came to her eyes.
Frank was not appreciably bigger than his wife, five feet eight inches and roughly 160 pounds, but he was
considerably stronger. He swung her around and quickly slapped her face as she reeled backward. The
shock of the slap and the sting on her face was like a bolt of lightning. It shocked her into the realization
that her own self-esteem was in a tailspin.
The next morning Frank said nothing about the previous evening. He didn’t apologize. He made
no comment about the bruise on Debra’s left cheek nor did he offer any explanation about his behavior. On
the contrary he told Debra that she had better learn her place as his wife, “women like you should be seen
and not heard,” he said. Debra was certain the “like you” part of his comment referred to her not finishing
college.
After breakfast she went upstairs to get ready for work, she was sitting in front of her mirror
applying her makeup when Frank came in. She was wearing a black bra, matching black panties and silky
black thigh high hose. Hanging on the doorknob was a black silk dress usually reserved for special
occasions.
“Pretty flashy outfit for a research assistant,” Frank heckled.
 “I have an interview today,” Debra replied. “I have a chance to get the lab supervisors position
that David Maters had. And I’m an associate not an assistant.”
“They’ll never put you in that position,” Frank huffed. “You’ve got three strikes against you
before you walk in the door. Female, no degree and female.” Kevin laughed as he dressed in his workout
clothes and headed out the door on his way to the gym.
“I do so have a chance,” Debra whispered under her breath, covering the bruise on her cheek with
a bit more makeup than usual.
When Debra got home from work there was a line of cars in front of the house. She pulled into
the driveway and went in through the kitchen door. Frank was in the kitchen tapping a keg of beer.
“Where the hell have you been,” he demanded. “I’ve got twenty guys here to watch the first game of the
Series.”
“I think I got that new job.” Debra replied.
“Yeah, sure you did, Frank laughed, “you may get to be a Lab Supervisor at work, but you’re the
waitress here,” he sneered, throwing an apron across the counter.
“Can I at least go and change,” Debra begged, “I’ve been in these heels all day, my feet are killing
me.”
Frank replied, “hell no, you look kinda like one of those slutty French maids in that outfit. Keep it
on; the guys’ll get a laugh out of it. In fact,” he added with contempt moving closer to his wife, “let me fix
this. He knelt behind her taking the hem of her already short dress and folding it under; he took another
four inches off the bottom of the dress. Grabbing a stapler from the kitchen junk drawer he quickly
shortened the outfit to barely cover Debra’s round bottom. The tops of her hose now exposed Frank
laughed, “There, now you do look like the slutty French maid.”
Fearing another slap on the face or worse, Debra tied the white apron around her 22-inch waist
and as she passed the dining room caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror; the reflection humiliated her.
Once again Frank took every opportunity to put down his wife during the ball game and his cronies chimed
in numerous times commenting on her legs, her bottom and of course her breasts. Frank said not a word.
That night as he lay sleeping Debra tossed and turned. She vowed to avenge her lost self-esteem. She
would not live her life like this.

The next morning Debra left for work early, hopeful of learning the outcome of the previous days
interview. As she rolled into the parking lot she could see Dr. Denise Cary, managing director of the
facility pulling into her assigned parking stall. Debra hurried to find a slot and jumped out of her car
hoping to strike up a conversation with woman she had interviewed with the day before.
“Good morning, Dr. Cary,” Debra smiled.
“Good morning Debra,” Dr. Cary replied, “How are you this morning?”
“Hopeful,” Debra smiled again looking the Director in the eye.
“Really? Well, good. I have some time around 11:00 this morning,” Dr. Cary returned the smile.
“Why don’t you come by so we can chat.” The two women separated in the foyer Debra turning down the
long tiled corridor to the labs, Dr. Cary going up stairs to the executive offices.
Debra entered the lab, the smell of the animals ever present as they experimented with genetic
improvements hopeful of finding cures and solutions to human ailments and frailties. She circled the room
checking each animal as she passed making sure that her assistants had cleaned and cared for the beasts. In
a corner cage sat Mork, an experiment in progress. The chimpanzee sat quietly, back to the wall eating a
banana, peel and pulp, periodically touching between his thighs a look of bewilderment on his apish face.
Mork had lost nearly 20 pounds in the last year, but his health was remarkably good. His features had
softened noticeably and he had clearly developed enlarged mammary glands, a result of some genetic
manipulation done by David Masters. David had “spliced and diced” as he called it a series of changes to
the male chimps genetic makeup.
The researcher had started with rats, moved to cats and dogs and then finally to the primates. He
had learned over nine years of research that by taking three genes from a compatible female and splicing
them to the male genes a noticeable transformation would occur. The male would begin a morphing
process that would render him female in all physical appearance with the exception of the genitals. The
genitals would remain, although, there would be a significant reduction in size and loss of potency. The
testicles would rise from the scrotum into the pelvic region leaving the scrotal sack empty. In short time
the sack itself would disappear leaving only the penis. The shrinkage of the penis was typically down to
about 25 percent of the original size and erection became impossible. This is what seemed to bewilder
Mork. He reached down, almost out of habit now, feeling for something that was practically gone.
The surprise from David’s research was that although the body morphed, the mind did not. There
was clearly recognition of the change in every animal. The dogs and cats seemed relatively unaffected by
the physical changes with the only noticeable adaptation that of male dogs choosing to squat rather than
hike their legs. The rats developed some homosexual behavior in the second year but that did not seem the
case with the primates. Mork seemed to wonder about the physical changes, his loss of masculinity.
The total process took nearly a year, starting with the genetic implant done by injection into the
scrotum. There was then a series of ten boosters, one per week for ten weeks again into the scrotum. Each
shot included changes in the genetic code that would splice with the subjects code and begin to make
physical changes. After the initial series the subject would then receive, once a month, a maintenance
therapy in the form of a hormone injection. The initial therapy had to be timed perfectly, each implant
injection given exactly one week after the last. The hormone injection was not nearly as time sensitive but
important nonetheless.
Debra practically floated into the kitchen of their two-story suburban home. Frank sat at the table
a beer in hand, two empty cans stacked next to him. “I got the job,” she beamed, “can you believe it, I got
the job.”
“No I can’t believe it!” Frank snapped. “I can’t believe they’d put that whole department in the
hands of a ‘know-nothing’ college dropout like you. Shit,” he continued, “they put a woman in charge of a
top-secret government lab, if that’s not having the fox guard the henhouse I don’t know what is. I bet you a
million bucks you blow the cover in less than six months.” He gulped the end of his beer, “get me another
beer,” he demanded.
“Get it yourself,” Debra replied, feeling the sting of his cruel words. “I’m not your servant.”
“You damned sure are,” Frank stood coming across the kitchen. “You’re my little French slut
maid, remember.” Frank grabbed his wife by the wrist and spinning her around he raised his hand to slap
her. Remembering the mark he had left on her cheek the night before he stopped short of hitting her
choosing instead to twist her arm up behind her back. “Now get me that beer!” He pushed her toward the
refrigerator, “I’m going down to Duffy’s to watch Game Two.” She opened the refrigerator door, picked a
can and timidly handed it to her enraged husband. Frank stormed out of the house heading to a
neighborhood pub to watch Game Two of the World Series.
Debra went to her room, tears of disappointment in her eyes. After changing her clothes she
decided to fix a light supper and then go to visit her mother-in-law.