Carole's Punishment

As soon as Mark saw the e-mail – he had made it his daily business to hack into Carole’s account – he knew the time had come for judgment day. He decided that he would sneak into Tommy’s party and videotape the proceedings then collect all of the best images from that night and the previous nights in the parking lot, and confront Carole. And then he would pack her bags and kick her out of his house. He had decided that, although her actions were a big sexual turn-on, he could not remain married to someone who cheated and lied so flagrantly behind his back. Whenever he thought rationally about what she was doing to their marriage, and to him, the rage boiled up inside him until he thought he was going to explode.

Carole, too, had a vague sense that things were coming to a head, although she didn’t know why or how. Ever since Mary had told her that Monday a few weeks ago that Mark had come to her office looking to take her to lunch, so he said, she had had a feeling of dread that he was starting to suspect something. He hadn’t said anything, but she had noticed that he was acting quite cool toward her.

By Friday, Mark’s preparations were complete. He had spent a good bit of time one morning before work earlier that week at the office of his friend, the private investigator. There he had obtained a disguise and a specially made shirt. The shirt had a rivet under each arm; the one on the right was actually a tiny lens that attached to a small camcorder, which fit snugly under the armpit of the baggy denim shirt. The other arm had a similar rivet that hid a state-of-the-art microphone leading to a small tape recorder. It was perfect for surveillance. Mark planned to cover his mostly-gray hair with a shoulder-length bleached blond wig, and attach a very real-looking fake beard. The disguise, coupled with the loose shirt, his baggy shorts and sandals would make him look years younger, like some surfer dude.

He had taken other steps to ensure his freedom of movement. He had told Carole that the paper was sending him to Atlanta for a two-day seminar on newspaper design; he would leave Thursday afternoon and return sometime after noon on Sunday. He had also made sure the house would be empty for when he confronted Carole with his evidence. Their oldest child, Mike, was a junior at the big state university where Mark and Carole had both gone. Their daughter, Christy, was a senior in high school and their younger son, James, was a sophomore. Mark had encouraged Christy and James to take off and spend the weekend with Mike. The school’s football season opened that Saturday and they had both jumped at the opportunity to visit the campus without Mark and Carole along.

On Thursday, he had packed a little overnight bag, containing his disguise and some other items and driven off. Instead of going to Atlanta, however, he booked a motel room near the airport, where he rented a car and drove back into town to scope out the Cabaret Club. Then he had spent a good bit of the night sitting in the motel bar, drinking beer and brooding over the apparent destruction of his once-happy marriage.

Mark had one more errand to run Friday afternoon before he got himself ready to crash Tommy’s party. He paid a visit to the home of his friend John, one of the bartenders at his favorite tavern. There he bought a little quarter-ounce bag of marijuana. Until a week or so previously, it had been years since he’d had any weed. At one time, when he was much younger, he and Carole had been pretty steady tokers. However, as their kids grew into teenagers and they themselves rose to more responsible positions in their careers, that had been one thing that fell by the wayside.

But he and Jack had been having a few beers – Mark was drowning his sorrows – when John invited them to step into the tavern’s basement, where they busted up a pipe full of really good commercial. When he plotted his disguise, he decided that having some herb would fit in with the hippie image he wanted to project, and offering to get high with a couple of Tommy’s friends would be a way to ingratiate himself into their party, plus it would help keep him calm. Returning to his motel, he locked the door and rolled a half-dozen joints with the papers he’d bought at a nearby convenience store.

After eating a big dinner at a chain restaurant, he set about getting into costume. When he was finished, even he didn’t recognize himself, and a pair of dark glasses added a nice final touch. It was about 7:30 when he arrived at the Cabaret Club, still fairly early. He paid the cover charge and walked into the dimly lit club. The club was maybe half-full when he arrived, and he was easily able to find a booth in the corner, where he could watch the door.

Carole, meanwhile, was nervous, yet excited. She had never done anything so brazen as perform in a strip club, and the prospect frankly turned her on. Nevertheless, she worked on a couple of screwdrivers as she applied her makeup quite garishly. She pulled a tight tank top over her head, which showed off her tits and a short skirt; of course, she had on no underwear. Her shoes were a plain pair of flats. In a small bag she packed her costume for the night, including a pair of black knee-high boots, and a kit for touching up her makeup. It was around 7:15 when the doorbell rang, signaling Tommy’s arrival. Carole planned on getting drunk this night, and with Mark out of town, it was easy enough for her to get Tommy to carry her to and from the club.

Tommy wasn’t a particularly big person, around 5-10 and 175 pounds. But he carried himself with an air of supreme confidence, and he walked right into the house like he owned it, gave Carole a deep kiss then walked to the kitchen and helped himself to one of Mark’s beers. After popping the top, he fished something out of his pocket and handed it to Carole. It was a capsule containing the latest sex drug, and he told her it would really get her in the mood both for performing on stage and, later, in the private room. Then they set off, picking up several of his friends then meeting up with a few more at a rendezvous point.

Carole was already beginning to buzz from the pill and a large screwdriver she’d fixed for the road, when they arrived at the club. Altogether, there were 13 men in their group, counting Tommy. Their tables had already been reserved for a spot right next to the runway that jutted out from the main stage, and they whooped and hollered as they boiled into the club’s main room. Mark couldn’t help a slight feeling of anger as he saw his wife enter the club with this group, despite the joint he’d smoked on the way over. He was nursing his second beer when they arrived a little after 8 p.m. Mark watched and slowly worked on a couple of more beers over the next hour, as amateurs came on the stage and did their thing. Eventually, he worked himself so he was sitting at a table next to a couple of the bachelor party and struck up a conversation. Soon, he was engaged in a pleasant conversation, even buying the pair a round of drinks.

Mark told them he was from out of town and visiting the city for a family reunion the next day, then asked about the woman that seemed to be having a great time with their party.

“Oh, she works with Tommy at some brokerage here,” said the man on his left, a young man of about 30. “Tommy says she’s really hot to trot, that she’ll fuck anything with a dick, that it’s part of her job. How that works, I don’t know.”

“Anyway, she’s going to dance and do a strip for us, then she’s going to do a private show in the back room, and I think the plan is for all of us to fuck her as many times as we can get it up,” said the second man, who was about 35, Mark guessed. “She goes on in about a half-hour.” Then Mark made his move, asking the two if they wanted to step out to his car for something green and really tasty. As he had expected, their eyes lit up, and Mark led them out to the parking lot, getting a stamp so they could come back in without having to pay again. The trio smoked two of the fat joints, and they were feeling quite giddy when Mark popped the question.

“You think I could get a piece of your party girl?” he asked. “She looks like she’d be some primo pussy, and, well, me being a stranger in town, I could use a little action.”

They didn’t see what harm adding one more patron to their party would hurt, especially one who shared such righteous smoke. When they reentered the club, the place was starting to get a bit rowdier, and Carole was nowhere to be seen. Mark took that opportunity to go to the bathroom to check his underarm equipment, and was satisfied that he’d get some very hot images. He’d tested it out the previous day when he’d scoped out the club, checking the tape quality on a computer at the city library, so he knew it would work well as long as he didn’t jostle the machine too much.

He had just sat down with a fresh beer when the house lights dimmed and the stage lights went up.

“OK, ladies and gentlemen, our next participant is ready to go,” said the emcee. “Let’s give it up for Miss Carly!” To the whistles, cheers and applause of the packed club, the curtain parted and Carole stood swaying to the seductive beat of the music. Mark was stunned by his wife’s appearance. She was dressed in a sheer white blouse, with a black bra showing clearly underneath, a patent leather mini-skirt that just barely covered her ass and her tight knee-high boots. She was quite garishly made up, with heavy mascara, ruby lipstick and a thick swath of eye shadow.

As the beat of the music quickened, Carole began dancing quite lewdly, and Mark realized that she had on a g-string under her skirt. She did the usual gyrations strippers use, rolling on the floor to show her legs and her ass, dancing around the pole that stood in the center of the stage. As she strutted down the runway, she slowly, seductively, began to unbutton the blouse, to the cheers of the crowd.

Carole was in a dream world in her mind, the effects of the drug she’d been given and alcohol from a number of drinks mixing in a heady combination. She was playing out a fantasy, living the role of the stripper, and she could feel her pussy begin to get wet as she abandoned all of her inhibitions. In spite of his breaking heart, Mark was fascinated by Carole’s transformation. Maybe he had taken her for granted, he thought miserably, for here was a supremely carnal creature, one that had been dormant under the conservative suburban soccer mom that she’d become as his wife.

No, he thought sternly, banishing the thought from his mind. She could be this carnal whore for somebody else. He had a reputation and a family to think about, and a stripper who fucked any man she saw had no place in his life.

Carole quickly discarded the blouse then slowly worked on removing her skirt. She played the crowd like a pro, teasing the audience by starting to unzip the skirt then stopping. The crowd knew the drill, and the men sitting along the front of the stage started holding up dollar bills, mostly 10s and 20s that she happily stuffed in her bra for the time being. When she had several hundred dollars collected, she slowly unzipped the skirt and flung it off, revealing her scanty g-string. As she turned her back to the crowd, she quickly took the bills and stuffed them in the g-string to encourage the patrons to add to her collection.

As the beat of the music quickened even more, Carole went wild on the stage, showing her ass and leaning in to work the crowd with seductive glances and gestures. Then she stood up and unhooked the front-loading bra she’d worn. As her tits sprang free, the crowd cheered wildly, and soon the bra joined the rest of her clothes backstage. That left her clad in just the g-string, and as the crowd began to chant, “Take it off,” she did just that, sensually shrugging the skimpy material off her butt, dancing wildly with the material stretched wide between her thighs, before dropping the g-string to the floor. Carole strutted and danced naked with wanton abandon, squatting down to give everyone a good look at her pussy then turning around on her knees to show off her ass. She even parted her butt cheeks to show off her pink asshole.

Mark may have thoroughly disapproved of what his wife was doing, but his dick was enjoying the show, as he had a cast-iron hard-on that could drive nails. What Carole did next nearly made him and every other man in the joint cum in their pants. Taking the fat wad of bills from her boot, she folded them length-wise then leaned back so she was propped up with one hand on the stage and her legs spread so that her obviously juicy cunt was open wide. Then she took the roll of bills and began to run the edge along the outside of her pussy, using the bills almost like a makeshift dildo. The crowd went wild at that, urging her to go for it. So she did, pushing them past her pussy lips into her cunt and working them back and forth for several minutes as she rolled around the stage with rapidly mounting lust.

As the music wound to a conclusion, she abruptly withdrew the wad of bills and held them to her nose, as if savoring her aroma. From every direction, 10s, 20s, even a few 50s and 100s rained on the stage, and when the music finally stopped, Carole spent several minutes gathering up her tips. Even Mark was impressed and tossed a 20 onto the stage. Carole’s chest was heaving and she was covered in sweat as she left the stage. The club owner gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as congratulations, and handed her his business card.

“Listen, sweetheart, if you ever want to do this for a living, give me a call. You’re a fucking natural,” he said. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do out there.” Carole was still in a dreamland, where everything seemed amplified and hazy. And she was incredibly horny, more so than she’d been in quite a while. The substances coursing through her body, coupled with the carnal display she’d put on during her dance had stoked her fire to a fever pitch. Handed another screwdriver, she downed it in one gulp and sent the backstage waitress for another one.

Carole’s departure from the stage was the signal for Tommy that it was time to head to the back for the private show. Mark got up with the rest of the group and tagged along. As they passed through the beaded curtain to the back room, Tommy noticed the newcomer and asked his friend who he was.

“Oh, he’s cool,” said one of Mark’s new buddies. “He’s from out of town and he’s got some truly awesome smoke, if you’re interested.” Tommy was, so the four of them slipped out the back door and polished off a quick joint while the rest of their crowd filed into the back room to await the second, and best part of the show.

A large bouncer monitored the entry of the group into the room with a list that he had on a clipboard, and he stopped Mark when he saw that he was an extra patron. But Tommy squared it with him, and they entered the room. The room was approximately 15 feet square, and one end opened to a small well-stocked bar, complete with an elderly bartender. Tommy had paid an arm and a leg for this phase of the party, and he made sure all of his guests had drinks, and music came from a hidden speaker in the ceiling. The room was carpeted with some all-weather kitchen carpet, plus there was a large vinyl mat in the middle of the floor. Except for the bar, the door from the hallway and a door leading to the dressing room, the room was ringed by a padded built-in bench, where patrons could relax and watch the show.

When everyone was settled in, the door from the dressing room opened and Carole emerged. Mark held back a little for fear she might recognize him, but he need not have worried. Carole was somewhere in the stratosphere, with only one thing on her mind, getting her steaming pussy around some hard cock. She was still in her boots, and was wearing a see-through pink robe, which she quickly removed. Dancing naked, she walked seductively around the room, giving each man there a grinding lap dance, including the bearded, hippie-looking dude in the corner. Something about him was familiar, but she dismissed the thought as she moved on to the next man.

After making the rounds, and getting acquainted with the bulges in their pants, she moved to the center of the room, dragging Tommy with her. As the man of the hour, he got the first crack at Carole, and they danced seductively in the center of the stage, until Carole wrapped her arms around Tommy’s shoulders and drew him to her. They kissed deeply, as the other men clapped and cheered. Moving her hands down, she quickly removed his shirt, then knelt on the floor, unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and let them drop to the floor.

Tommy’s rampant hard-on bulged in his briefs as Carole bent her head and ran her lips over the cloth-covered meat. Then she pulled his underwear away and cooed seductively as his 9-inch boner slapped her on the cheek. Tommy quickly dropped his briefs to the floor and stood naked except for his socks. Carole wasted no time, but ran her hands lightly over his cock then licked the underside of his cock until she reached the tip. Opening her mouth wide, she grinned for her audience before pushing the head of his dick past her lips. She swirled her tongue around the head, savoring the taste of his pre-cum before slowly covering his shaft with her mouth. She took him into her throat easily, all the way to the base, as the room erupted in cheers.

Mark was utterly stunned. When he’d tried to get Carole to suck his dick earlier in their marriage, she’d had trouble getting past her gag reflex and had adamantly refused to swallow his cum. He’d already seen how she had learned to swallow, and now, apparently, she’d also learned to deep throat. He took a long drag from his beer as he fought his mounting arousal. He really didn’t want to get turned on by watching his wife act the slut, but his dick had a mind of its own. It was in a state of high alert, and he could feel his pre-cum moistening his boxers.

Carole sucked on Tommy for just a few minutes then he pulled his cock out and laid Carole on the floor mat. Mark thought he was simply going to fuck her, but instead he pulled her legs open and descended on her pussy with his mouth, licking her well-trimmed furrow and rolling her clit around with his lips and teeth. Carole felt a sharp spike of lust rush through her as Tommy worked on her pussy with his mouth. She humped up her hips to meet him, trying to get all of her juicy cunt on his mouth. It took all of about three minutes before Carole convulsed in a massive orgasm, the effects of the drug and alcohol in her body, and the lewd dance she’d performed on stage had combined to put her on the edge of orgasm before she ever entered the room.

Tommy didn’t give Carole any time to come back to earth. Her cunt was still twitching when he pulled his face away from her crotch, knelt in front of her and pushed his cock right up her twat in one furious thrust. Mark was trembling in anger and lust, but he fought his emotions down and concentrated on keeping his arm steady, so the camcorder resting in its sling in his armpit could get every detail of his wife’s wanton actions.

Carole lifted her legs and wrapped them around Tommy’s waist as he bent down and they kissed deeply. Carole’s fingers clutched at his hair as he bent his head down to nibble on her neck and kiss and lick her tits. All around the room, men were beginning to remove their clothes in preparation for their turn. Not wanting to look out of place, Mark casually opened his fly and pulled his throbbing dick out of his pants and began to lightly stroke himself as he watched his wife of 22 years get boned on the floor by someone she barely knew.

Tommy had been sitting on go for several hours; he’d dropped one of the capsules himself, and the stranger’s weed had amplified his sensations. He was in an edgy state of arousal as he began to fuck Carole harder and faster. Carole threw back her head in a wordless scream, and humped back just as hard and just as fast, imploring Tommy to ride her hard and fill her up with his hot cum. That did it for Tommy. Arching his back, he threw his head to the ceiling, stiffened and exploded with a geyser of superheated cum up Carole’s clenching cunt. Carole, too, felt a white-hot orgasm rip through her, and she could feel the orgasm train approaching. That was always the best, when she was fucked so good and so hard that the orgasms started coming one after the other. She wasn’t quite there yet, but she knew she’d get there before the end of the night.