He's not a Cuckold - A BTB

This is the original version with the original ending. A BTB one.

As I wrote it, a thought came to me, what if he acted differently. A different outcome. So, version 2 -- Not a RAAC but an alternative ending.

Gillian had come home from work and almost without a hello told me to make the dinner. She was going for a shower. It wasn't unusual. Her distain for me had been growing for three months now. We hadn't been intimate in that time and while before I would have been annoyed, to say the least, with what I had learned, I was happy.

I knew what she was planning and had my own surprise ready for her. She wouldn't be a happy bunny. Her boss, Julien Francis have been telling her I was a worthless cuckold. She should have known better. I had even warned him earlier of the consequences should he try and fuck Gillian.

Gillian came into the kitchen dressed to arouse me. She was wearing a sheer nightie with a sheer thong which hugged her bare pussy. Her face went from a grin to a scowl, she was annoyed, "Where's the dinner?"

I spoke sharply, "You want it, you make it. I ate earlier."

Her eyebrows rose in shock, me speaking back. She tried to smile but it was just a grimace, "Here's me trying to tease you for being so good to me and you do that. I had a surprise for you. I'll keep it to myself."

I just looked at her. I spoke dismissively, "It would take more than a half-hearted attempt to seduce me to even get me interested given the way you've treated me. You knew I loved playing with your pubic hair yet you've kept your cunt bare for months, for Francis. Whatever the surprise, I'm sure it's only about you and him."

She wasn't pleased, her nostrils flared.

Her body language was angry, this wasn't on her agenda.

She tried to smile, it didn't reach her eyes, "I know we've had a few problems recently but I do love you. I was going to tell you, you have your way. You wanted kids and I'm pregnant!"

She moved towards me to give me a hug. I stopped her.

I looked at her with utter disgust. She stepped back shocked. I controlled my breathing before I spoke. My anger was plain.

"Gillian, I did want children with you but that was before I found out what your job title was. Corporate Whore! We haven't had sex in more than three months so the child isn't mine. As Francis fucks you without a condom, you can tell him, your little ploy to seduce me and make me think any child was premature has failed. He'll need to pay child support or at least his estate will!"

She stepped further back. Her face frozen in shock! She didn't deny it.

I carried on, "You forgot who I am. I knew something was wrong so I made it my business to find out. You haven't noticed, I haven't worn my ring in weeks. I have nothing of mine left in this house.

"I'm out of here and out of your life."

I picked up my last bag and walked past her. She was beginning to cry but I didn't care.

As I reached the door, she shouted, "Mike don't leave me. I love you."

I just snorted and left.

I suppose some background would help you understand what the fuck just happened and why.

Gillian and I first met about thirty months ago at a business conference. I work for a company A J Roberts and Sons. We don't advertise but are well known. We are business trouble-shooters. If a firm has a problem with employee pilfering, competitor espionage or cyber ransomware, we are often called in to work out the problem and the solutions. Our expertise covers many areas of business and our staff come from many backgrounds. They are the best there are. I was tracking a senior staff member of her company suspected of selling his companies secrets to a competitor.

Our front office staff deal with the mundane everyday stuff like accounts, proof reading, document presentation so many visitors think we are a home spun family business. We don't discourage that view. My business card says Office Administrator/Accountant. Gillian thinks I'm an accountant. I never correct anyone who thinks that. My background is IT and surveillance though I can confuse many with my knowledge of accounting. I just blend in the background.

I am described by my friends as laid back, helpful, good sense of humour, great companion, buddy. They do think I should take a chill out pill more often as according to the, I have very old-fashioned ideas on behaviour. If I'm annoyed I can be quite ruthless. If I have been provoked, I will warn and if they don't take any heed, I do what I say.

We found we had a lot in common. She was highly intelligent and very humorous. We stayed in touch, met up frequently and eighteen months later we married. She moved to my town.

Gillian is beautiful. She's 5'6", slim with a pair of 38D's which suspend belief. When she is on top (which was often) they could conduct a masterpiece or poke your eyes out. She has a slim waist which leads to a valley of sin. Normally, she keeps it trimmed so you knew she was a natural auburn. Recently, she has been keeping it bare. I don't like that as I liked to run my fingers through her pussy hair. Her long legs looked marvellous in stockings. She never wore them as often as she has recently (Monday to Friday).

About six months later she had a job interview with a firm, Ralston Ltd, a business broker, introducing companies together. She was very pleased, she'd been headhunted, vindication for her work ethic. They wanted her. As far as I was concerned, they were dirty. I tried to talk her out of it. There were rumours that they had their female members of staff (it wouldn't surprise me if males were included as well) sleep with perspective clients to seal the deal.

The main boss, Julien Francis as far as I was concerned was a known sexual predator. I had observed him at many functions where I was watching others, be escorted away before he was seriously injured for overstepping the mark.

I laid out my concerns to Gillian but couldn't expose how I knew what he was like. She wouldn't budge. The job was very highly paid. We had many arguments but she still accepted the position.

About six weeks later, we had to attend Francis's deluxe residence for a party. The little black dress, emphasis on little, had caused an argument before we left our home. The silk caressed her body like a second skin, revealing her erect nipples. It was short enough you could see her stocking tops as she swayed. She had never dressed like that for me.

She laughed as she said, "Julien likes us to wear stockings."

When she said that, I lost it. "Is this to show me he's fucking you?" I shouted.

She was now annoyed. Her voice showed it, "Mike, I would never cheat on you. It's a foible of his. You have this idea of him and just won't quit with it. You'll like him. He'd probably offer you more money to move to him."

I shook my head, my voice showing my anger, "Gillian, you've never dressed like that for me but for him, no problem. Why don't you see that gives me a problem? Why is he more important than me? If this evening is him marking you as his, he'll not like the outcome. If you are even considering fucking anyone other than me, we're done and I'll make sure they suffer."

The taxi arrived and we spent the journey in silence. I only drank soft drinks from an unopened bottle, I wasn't about to allow anyone drug me. As I suspected, he was all over Gillian as we arrived. He tried to separate us but failed. He tried to appear happy but his eyes showed his displeasure. Many of the others tried to get my attention away from Gillian so Francis could make a run at her. I refused to play their games. I could see my intransigence was creating a few problems.

There was a vibe I was picking up that the evening wasn't going to plan. Francis's face showed how pissed off at me he was. I sensed I was the problem, which I admit gave me pleasure. I was polite (just) but I didn't let Gillian out of reach.

One of the more senior managers John Dewar, asked me outright, "What's your problem?"

I laughed, as I replied, stone faced and deliberate, "I've heard all about Francis and your office practices. If he tries to involve Gillian or if anyone tries to or fucks my wife, I'll take you all down. A clue, you'll never fuck anyone again. If your investigators know their job, they'll tell you what I do. It's no idle threat.

"Don't -- touch -- Gillian! You won't like the outcome."

He was angry and although he was six inches taller than me, I would have been happy to beat him to fuck. He probably saw that in my eyes and tone so went and spoke with Francis who was furious.

During the rest of the evening, I watched Francis and the others carefully. To them, it would look like casual interest but it's my field, my rules. The others kept trying to engage in conversations which would take me away from Gillian's side. They failed. The mood wasn't good. I didn't care. I was mad at Gillian and extremely pissed off with them.

I saw Francis had a routine so I checked it out. From his behaviour, I thought his visits to the bathroom were too frequent. I suspected he used cocaine which he topped up regularly. As he came out of the bathroom, I collared him. I made it clear to him - my opinion. One hand held his throat, the other his balls. "Julien, you or any of the others try anything with Gillian, I'll cut your balls, dick off and feed them to you. It's your one and only warning!"

I walked away. He should have used the toilet when he was in there.

The party broke up shortly after. I appeared to get the blame if the looks I got meant anything. I suspect the party was supposed to be an orgy but I never attend those.

Gillian was not happy with me and we argued the rest of the weekend.

I'm not stupid. I thought this was a game for Francis. I had a far bigger stake in it than he realised. I began to make plans to gather the evidence I would need. I soon learned far more was involved.

First item, after Gillian went to work on the Monday, I swept our house for any bugs. I'd gone to my work on the Sunday and picked up some equipment. There were none. I installed cameras and sound detectors to capture any conversations. I already had a very special anti-spyware on my own home computer as I couldn't be too careful. I checked it and installed an improved version. I installed my own VPN and created a new cloud depository with thirty-three-digit coding. Everything pertaining to Francis and Gillian would go directly there.

My own mobile was tracker free. I would place a hidden tracker which most companies' software engineers would never find on Gillian's mobile.

I checked my car and it was clear.

How to get the evidence otherwise? Gillian had a foible of her own. She owned many broaches and wore them daily. I spent the morning taking eight apart and replacing the fake gemstones with miniscule cameras of the same shade. There wasn't much range but anything they recorded would download to a secure file on my computer when she came home. Not ideal but I couldn't do anything else at the moment. I had no access to her office. Taking her to lunch wasn't possible as she was always too busy.

It was three weeks before another opportunity arose. Gillian's multi-charger in her office was playing up. For once, she was polite when she asked me, "Can you pick a new one up for me, please? The store is across from your office."

We had been dancing on ice since that party. I had been annoyed at her attitude and included my observations that Francis was trying to get her away from me so he could fuck her. She had denied it was to be an orgy but her face said she suspected that was the plan. She told me I was overreacting.

I agreed to get a new unit for her. I didn't get one from there. I got one from our store. It recorded video and audio and had a range of five hundred metres. I hid the receiver in Gillian's car. Unless she had a blowout, she'd never lift the spare wheel cover. Even then, I had it concealed. I linked it to my computer so anything would record when she returned home or if I was close enough I could watch in real time on my phone.

I hated being after the event but it was all I could do. I'd warned them so they had no comeback.

Nothing was normal especially our love life which was poor before it stopped altogether. Neither of us made much of an attempt. You could call it deluxe masturbation at best. We couldn't speak without arguing whenever that firm came up in conversation.

Just over three months ago, one of our security guys Arthur, came up to me and said, "Someone looked to be at your car. When I got there, he was gone. I'd check it if I were you."

I deliberately park next to Smith's accountants, to put people of track. I did and saw a low-quality tracker poorly hidden behind my catalytic converter. I laughed. The stakes were rising.

If I needed to go somewhere I didn't want them to know, I'd use a pool car.

Gillian "had to borrow" my phone that night. My software caught the tracker. For the next few days, I did everything "an accountant" would do. I stayed in the office and worked at my desk.

Well, my car and phone never moved. Gillian did call to say she may be late. I replied, "What hotel are you using?" That didn't go down well. Why she didn't twig, I don't know.

I had been watching the exchanges between Francis and Gillian for the last few weeks, heating up. His staff obviously weren't up to much, as most, in the admittedly small field we work in, knew me and my reputation. Francis wouldn't bring what was about to come down on his head had he known.

He did have an altercation one night as he went to his car. He wouldn't be snogging or doing anything else to anyone for days.

I'd been conducting my due diligence on Ralston and Francis. I managed to get into his home working with a catering supply company for one of his parties. His home security sucks. I had video in every room, transmitting to a base unit. I ran out of time to bug his computer unfortunately. Had I managed that then, would things have turned out the way they did?

The party was a revelation. Two of my company's board were there. Bernie was asking Francis when Gillian was going to make an appearance. Francis had to conclude it was taking longer than he wished. Bernie said, "Her husband's a bloody accountant, don't know what she sees in him. I've wanted to fuck her since the summer dance that's why I told you to hire her." Ted nodded.

At work, Francis had been playing her, telling her how beautiful she was and how I was a loser. At first, she fought for me but over weeks, he wore her down. It was almost hypnotic the way he spoke to her. There was never any sign of drugs being used on her. My anger grew, she should have left when he began grooming her.

Our conversations went downhill fast when I brought up questions based on what I was seeing and hearing. Several times, she was flustered and appeared ashamed but she still denied anything untoward was happening.

It was two weeks after the tracker incident when they began kissing in the office. Her broach and the charge unit caught it. He had tried to get her and her alone to go to a party the previous weekend but she wouldn't go without me. If she did, her marriage would be over.

He was telling her how the party went. It was an orgy for his friends. He told her how I would have loved to watch him fuck her. As he kissed her, his hand was up her skirt and she never tried to stop him. Each day, he repeated it. He told her he would be fucking her soon.

At night, she watched me carefully. I never attempted to have any sexual relations with her. I gave her opportunities to tell me what was wrong but she never did.

Over the weekend, Gillian was even more distracted.

I tried to be the supportive husband, "What's up? Something has really upset you. Let me help you."

She wasn't for speaking but said, "I know we've been rowing but I do love you."

I smiled, "Gillian, I have a really hard time believing you."

Her eyes lit up, there was fear in them.

"You dress for the office like a slut. Hell, you won't dress in the house like that for me. This isn't Francis's foible, it's a plan to reduce your feelings of self-worth, to make you putty in his arms.

"He probably spins you a line about me being a loser, a cuckold. I'll enjoying watching you fuck him and others, even like it. I'm not and I never will. Any who touches you will have serious hospital stays. He will learn exactly what I am if he fucks you. He'll never fuck anyone ever again as he'll have no dick. He's a weak, preying bastard. I told him what I'd do to him and he pissed himself. If he didn't have his position of power, he'd be nothing.

"You have to decide what you want. If you want out of our marriage to be his whore, say so. I'll let you go. If you stay in our marriage and fuck him, it will be over and everyone involved will regret getting me angry.

"Just leave Ralston's, they're rotten. They're not worth destroying our marriage for. Once he's had his fun, he'll use you like the other women, as a prostitute for the company. You deserve so much more. How will you live with yourself then?"

She got up and slammed our bedroom door. She called one of the other girls. She told her to ignore me, I wouldn't learn anything and she'd earn a lot of money.

As I listened to that call, I made a change in what I was going to do. I had thought, record them fucking, fuck with him, give the evidence to the regulator for that industry. From what was implied, he was running a prostitution ring for his clients.

As Gillian sobbed in the bedroom, I checked her trackers and video more carefully. There were two hotels which she was often at but only to the foyer, so far. Francis and some girls headed upstairs. He was definitely grooming her.

I knew staff at both hotels having worked for them. I headed off to see if I could make arrangements to cover the room activities.

Francis isn't liked by many. Both hotel staffs were very happy to help when I explained I wanted to fuck him over big time. I have found honesty about your purpose when asking for help works most of the time, especially when it involves an arsehole! He maintained a suite in each hotel who allowed me access. He's a cheapskate. He recorded the activities but the system was power activated so when he went in, he had to turn it on. I saw later how he threatened the girls and his clients with revealing everything, if they didn't do as he said.

I put in my own system, wireless, powerful, motion activated and hidden in the fittings. The batteries had a life span of three months at the use he was making of the suites.

On my return, I spent the rest of that Saturday and Sunday, trying to get Gillian to tell me what was going on. She was shocked I knew how he worked the girls into becoming whores. I told her we were at the precipice in our marriage. If she didn't realise what he was up to and what it would cost, her, us then we would be over. Did she love me? My pleas fell on deaf ears.

On the Monday morning, I tried talking to Gillian, one last time. I was deliberate and sincere. "Gillian, Francis is working on you. I know that. Your body language tells me so much. You're scared. If you leave, I'll have been proved right. I'll never say I told you so. If you stay, you know he'll involve you.

"What is more important? Your pride or our marriage! If you allow him to seduce you, I'll walk away. You'll be on your own. I'll deal with him and he won't like it.

"If you're so unhappy now, how will you be then? You'll get another job easily.

"Do you want to be his slut? This is the week he's not going to take no for an answer, isn't it?

"Is this job worth so much more than us? We can be loving again. Leave, please!"

Gillian looked at me, shocked I knew so much. I could see her fear. She couldn't make a choice. Gillian spoke with a snarky tone, "Julien thinks you'll make a good cuckold. Your pleading sounds like he's right. Just like an accountant."