The Chronicles of Heavy73

Part 2: Discretion as an Art Form

“I have only two personal interests on this site: making sure that you are comfortable with me, should I be so fortunate to hold your attention and making sure I take the role of discretion to an art form. I mean, isn’t this why we are here, to be as discreet as possible?” -Heavy73 on


March 4, 2014 - Heavy73 was losing his patience. In the first few days, the matter of discretion had dominated his attention. He created a new email address strictly for use with AshleyMadison, which he did not link to his phone’s mail app, and only checked from his work laptop. For company secrecy reasons, the laptop had a password which changed every half hour, and the only way to know it was to check a small fob he kept on his person at all times, thus eliminating any chance of Sara potentially figuring out what he was up to, he reasoned. Potentially. 

An initial flood of indecent proposals from what turned out to be a mixed bag of scammers and site-created robots had quickly given way to silence on his AshleyMadison profile, and the hope that he might ever successfully cheat on his wife was dying inside of him. It had felt so adventurous in those first weeks - he might have even ventured to say it was romantic - but it was becoming clear that it was not enough to simply decide to have an affair. A willing partner was proving no more easy to find on the internet than it had ever been in real life. 

Heavy73 found himself visiting the site obsessively, to the point that it was affecting his performance at work, despite the ever vacant inbox. Gradually, an idea began to take hold in his mind that the problem was the profile itself, rather than what the profile was displaying. He began to believe that if he crafted it carefully enough, some verbal alchemy would eventually be distilled that would transform his otherwise unappealing self into something marketable, desirable even.

He almost fell out of his chair when Dave goosed him from behind, catching him lost in thought and staring at his AshleyMadison profile.

“Fucking around on company time, eh?” Dave said with a self-satisfied chuckle. “Any luck so far?”

“You scared me man, I told you to cut that shit,” Heavy73 moaned as his heart crawled out of his throat. “And no, thanks for asking, no luck. I thought you said there was good pussy on here, I can’t find anything.”

“Well knowing you, you’re probably doing it wrong. What’re you saying about yourself?”

“That’s what I’m working on now. See, I’m a big guy obviously, so I’m figuring I can work some kind of cuddly-bear angle, ya know? I’m kind of into that shit anyway, honestly.”

Dave’s natural smirk grew wider. “That’s good man, work with that. Chicks dig cuddling. What else ya got?”

“I dunno, man, not much. I’ve been thinking though,” Heavy73 said as he rubbed the back of his neck, “what’s the thing everybody’s probably most worried about if they’re on here? Keeping it secret, right? See, I think it’s all about compartmentalizing your life, I keep this stuff in one corner and the wife shit in another. The two worlds must never meet and all that, ya know?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s good! Compartmentalizing, I like that.”

“It should be like,” Heavy73 paused, “It should be like, an art form…” 


March 20, 2014: Heavy73 spotted Dave and the others in their usual booth, and nearly turned around on the spot, but they had already spotted him and there was no escape. 

“Boys, the man of the hour has arrived,” Dave theatrically declared with a wave of his arm.

“Fuck you Dave,” Heavy73 growled, but he was barely heard by the rest of them over the sound of their laughter. 

“We’ve got someone here,” Dave choked out between howls, “that we think you’d love to meet. Heavy73, meet Miss L! Discretion is her thing.” 

“Don’t fucking call me that!” Heavy73 roared. The self-loathing he was feeling for letting Dave catch him at his desk was only a small part of the awful he felt. It mingled with a seething Dave -hate and a heretofore unknown level of embarrassment, and as the three coalesced into a sort of emotional-shit soup; the possibility of him vomiting seemed very real. The lap-pillow taking his spot at the booth wasn’t helping either.

The object causing so much merriment for his juvenile asshole friends could best be described as just that: a lap-pillow. It was the bottom half of a female body , starting at the waist and dressed in a short red satin skirt, bent at the knees and resting on its feet. As he pushed it farther into the booth to make way for his mass he noticed the legs felt strangely real, apparently made of some kind of latex polymer he couldn’t guess at which had the feel of actual human flesh. Despite himself, Heavy73 felt a slight twinge of arousal.

“Are you guys done yet?” he asked witheringly as the laughter began to die.

“The look on your face dude! That was so awesome! Dave, you’re fucking brilliant, man!”

Apparently Brian was not done yet, withering questions notwithstanding.

“Yeah ha-ha really clever, Dave,” Heavy73 puffed, trying his best to put the humiliation behind him. “So I’m guessing this means you went ahead and looked me up or something? You looking to step out on Gina, maybe you wanna suck my dick?” It was the best Heavy73 could come up with under this much duress.

“Well no, Heavy-seventy-three , I’m not, but if you want to cuddle up and suck mine later feel free big guy!” The laughter started up again, and for once, Heavy73 found himself feeling very small.

About the Series

Until the recent appearance of AshleyMadison in headlines and the news of its apparent hacking, I had all but forgotten about this particular dark corner of the internet. When I heard of the hack and that two men’s profiles had been made public by The Impact Team, I became intrigued by the idea of what might have been going through their heads when they decided to sign up, and what that experience might have entailed. But instead of seeking out the real details of Brockton, Massachusetts’ own Heavy73, I decided to let the hazy sketch I had gleaned from articles develop into their own portrait of a man who is deeply flawed, to say the least. Please enjoy. - NS