Let the Punishment Fit the Crime

"She wasn't happy." Kay responded wryly. "When I told her that she had her fun and now it was my turn, she understood me immediately. Even though she fucked around on you, the idea that you might do the same scared the shit out of her. She pleaded with me not to do it. She begged me not to destroy your marriage. At least she had the decency to blush when I laughed at her and reminded her of what she had done to mine."

"I made it clear that the choice was hers. The only way to stop me from going after you was for her to confess. Otherwise, I told her to get the hell out of my way while you and I had our fun." Kay stopped and stared out the window for a moment. "To tell the truth, I don't know how she is going to respond. The thought that you might have your own affair scares the hell out of her. She's terrified that I'm going to steal you away from her.

"But, she's so fucked up emotionally that I don't know if she can bring herself to tell you." Kay looked at me in frustration. "I don't know if this idea is going to work on Jean, Hal. The situation isn't as simple as we thought. There are all sorts of things that could stop her from confessing. It's not just her embarrassment about getting caught. She's positive that if you find out she'll lose you anyway. If that's not enough, I thing at some level she convinced herself that she deserves the pain she'll feel if you have an affair."

After Kay's outburst, we sat there for a long moment in contemplation. Kay finally shook herself and went on. "Enough about Jean. What did my fucked up husband say?"

I proceeded to tell her about Bert's efforts to deny, shift the blame and avoid responsibility. It stood in stark contrast to Jean's emotional, almost visceral response.

"I've been thinking about how he'll respond too." I mused. "I didn't detect a scintilla of guilt that's for sure. He's just pissed that I have a hold over him. My best guess is that he's going to fight back. Make some sort of big effort to try to win you back. Plus, he's sure to try Jean again.

"I'd like to keep the pressure on him. Are you going to be able to resist if he starts smooth talking you again?"

Kay just glared at me until I laughingly held up my hands in surrender. "Okay, okay stupid question, but I had to ask. I'm just a bit gun-shy over the way he managed to talk his way into your pants already.

"Here's my idea on how we can handle him. Tease the shit out of him, but shut him off. Give any excuse you want but don't respond when he wants to have sex. He has to think you're getting it elsewhere.

"I think I've figured out a way to scam him. If we start hiding things, he'll jump to conclusions that aren't there. Let his imagination supply the evidence that doesn't exist." I continued sarcastically. "After all, we wouldn't hide it if it didn't exist, right?

"Tonight, rush right up to the bathroom and take a shower. Make sure you lock the door if he's home and hand rinse your panties. Make him think you had something to clean out of them. Then put them some place not too obvious where he can find them if he looks. In other words, do a bad job of hiding them. We want him to find them. As a matter of fact, why don't you hide all of the new lingerie?

"I want him to leap to the conclusion that we were together before you got home even without the evidence. As far as Bert is concerned, we are going to be the worst conspirators ever. We're going to drop all types of hints for him to find."

We finished making our plans and our meeting met a desultory end. By the time we left the coffee shop, I was about 20 minutes late getting home. I had no clue what to expect when I walked in the door.

Jean was already in the kitchen preparing dinner. I went in to give her my usual kiss hello that she returned fervently. As we separated, she searched my face for some sign of what was coming.

Dinner that evening was quiet. Jean was subdued. She responded when spoken too, but didn't display her usual tendencies of quizzing the kids on the day's activities. I tried to fill in to some degree without making it obvious to the kids.

Unobtrusively, I spent some time observing her. Her face was drawn and her entire attitude radiated defeat. She even flinched a few times when I spoke to her suddenly. It finally struck me that she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. She was waiting for me to confront her about her affair. She assumed that Kay had told me.

Jean behavior disturbed me. I found myself longing for the vivacious woman I had married. I was highly tempted to give her what she obviously expected and put the whole mess on the table. But call it what you will, stubbornness or strength, I held firm.

I could feel her misery, but couldn't be sure of the cause. Was it anguish over what she had done to the marriage or just fear that I had caught her? I still wanted her to experience first hand the pain and anguish I had felt when I learned she was having an affair. I wanted her to know what she had made me feel.

It was difficult, but I acted as if there was nothing wrong. Gradually, she began to relax a little. She was still on edge, but she stopped looking like a dog waiting for the next kick to come. We settled into a typical school night helping the kids with their homework. Around eight o'clock, I settled into the living room with the kids to watch a sit-com that they liked and Jean excused herself.

It wasn't uncommon for Jean to disappear into the bedroom to use the computer so the kids thought nothing of it. I sat with them until it was time for bed and got them organized. When Jean came out to kiss them good night, she looked miserable. I could see faint traces that she had been crying. She joined me in the living room for a while, but was restless and uncomfortable. She wouldn't look me in the eye. After a few minutes, she mumbled something about a headache and went in to bed.

I took the opportunity to check out the snoop program. Jean had been going through the CD that Kay had given her. Sampling the email trail left by her buddy Bert on his other affairs. Seeing how he used similar lies and methods with all four of his conquests. Getting first into their confidence and then into their beds.

It must have been a shock to her psyche to discover how callously he used people, including her. It destroyed any lingering hopes that she might have had that Kay was lying to her. Any remaining confidence or feelings that she had for Bert were shattered by what she found. She had even sent an email to yurmail canceling the 'dreamyjean' account.

This was an opportunity I could not pass up. I quickly logged onto yurmail and was able to reactivate the account with a new password. Now, I had sole control and access to the account. If Bert tried to contact her, I had a few nasty surprises in store for him.

Our revenge on Bert went swiftly and about as well as we could hope. One way Bert responded to my threats was to grow cautious. He emailed his lovers and told them that he needed to pull back for a while because his wife was suspicious. He tried to concentrate on Kay.

We took his newfound interest and threw it back in his face; while he tried to act more loving, Kay slowly but methodically turned her back to him. By her attitude she made it clear that he was no longer the top man in her life. We used his emails as our guidebook in how to humiliate and cuckold a husband. As time passed, she changed her clothes, her lingerie, her perfume, her hairdo and her attitude.

She thought back on the ways that she had changed to please him and on his likes and dislikes. Then she systematically shifted away from his preferences. When he asked why, she smiled mysteriously and gave him a vague response about a friend's suggestion. She resisted his efforts to get her to change back and really started to irk him when she started to use variations on lines that he had suggested that his lovers use.

Bert picked up on the clues we were leaving him almost immediately. Kay showed him all sorts of circumstantial evidence. He found the lingerie. He heard the snippets of suspicious conversations. It was enough to make him sure that I was making good on my threat to take Kay away from him, but his hands were tied. We kept things vague enough that Kay retained somewhat plausible deniability. The few times he did try to call her on something, she had an alternative explanation that he couldn't refute.

He became obsessed with finding solid evidence of Kay's affair. He tried waiting outside our building on nights she said she was working late to see who she was with. He neglected his job to follow her or drop in on her unexpectedly. But we stayed a step ahead. He had proof that Kay and I spent a lot of time together, but he never caught us in the type of compromising situation he was looking for.

Our theory was that he planned to use evidence of her cheating to lessen the effect of his affair with Jean. He had no way of knowing that we knew about the other affairs as well. We thought that once he had evidence, he would confess to Kay about the "ended affair" with Jean and try to play on Kay's guilt when he brought up her affair with me. This would allow him to play the contrite yet aggrieved husband who vowed his undying love and wanted to work to save the marriage.

He started to drop his own hints to Kay that he was hurt and confused by her actions and attitudes. He tried to make Kay feel guilty, but she was blithely ignoring him. He just couldn't recognize the fact that to Kay, the marriage had ended months ago.

Sexually, it was a frustrating time for Bert. Kay was adamant that one aspect of punishing Bert would be to place his love life under the restrictions he had tried to place on the cuckolded husbands of his lovers. If Bert tried to initiate an encounter, Kay rejected him. She came up with a myriad of excuses. The only time sex occurred was when Kay initiated it using some of the scenarios that he had proposed to his lovers.

Kay loved the power that her teasing provided. She became adept in limiting him to mere glimpses and flashes of her newly adopted wild side. Bert did try to regain control. His sexual interest in Kay increased as she became less available to him. He could sense his hold over her waning and tried to use all his wiles and tricks to regain his influence. But she responded with minimal interest. Their sex life dropped in frequency and fervor. For every move he made, she had the counter.

Kay had obtained a vibrator purposefully choosing one that was thicker and a little longer than Bert. She used it to masturbate in the car on some of the nights we "worked late" reaming herself out to the point her pussy was red and puffy. We would create faint artificial love marks on her body in spots where Bert would notice them or she would wash her pussy with a facecloth that had been impregnated with a bar of soap taken from a hotel. We would make sure that her clothing was unusually wrinkled or in disarray. Then, she'd rush into the house and out of the blue demand that Bert take her right to bed.

Kay would come into my office in the morning and with savage glee relate his reactions; the way that his lust would war with his suspicions at her gloating tone as she made her demands. How he would recoil at her insistence that he eat her pussy before she would allow him to enter her. His reaction to the faint but obvious signs that she had been recently fucked; his double take at the condition of her pussy and his furtive attempts to ascertain whether I had left him a cream pie. The disbelief on his face when she refused to blow him in return; it was a piece of cake to play off his insecurities to make him believe Kay was turning into my slut.

Kay came up with variations to keep the torment and his humiliation fresh. The day that it finally got to the point where it affected his performance Kay was ecstatic. He was unable to maintain an erection after she had forced him to eat her out. She told me that her response was a feigned indifference. She didn't act disappointed, try to reassure him or offer false sympathy. Instead, she just shrugged, just rolled over and pretended to go to sleep. The message was plain, his pleasure wasn't that important to her. The message wasn't lost on Bert. Jean was in full control over their sex life.

It was the ongoing sexual frustration that shook Bert from his caution. He emailed his lovers and started the process of coaxing them back into the affairs. And, he tried to get back at me by contacting Jean.

His first effort came about a month after my visit. He emailed her via the dreamyjean account reprising the friend bullshit she had fallen for before. I ignored it and he kept sending messages. After three or four emails, I sent him a three-word note."STOP BOTHERING ME!"

Bert proved his persistence once again. The next day he sent Jean this long and sorrowful email. The biggest nugget of information was the fact that he had tried to call her at work and she had hung up on him. All he wanted to know was why she refused to even talk to him?

This gave me all the ammunition and the incentive I needed to cure Bert of his desire for Jean once and for all. My first step was to block him from posting to the dreamyjean account. I also reported him to yurmail for harassment.

It got better when yurmail emailed me back to let me know that they had terminated his yurmail account and reported Bert "to the internet provider from which he accessed the account." Since Bert was using his office computer to send the emails, this complaint must have come as quite a shock to the IT Department. He must have had his Internet privileges terminated at work because from that point on his communications with his lovers went on from home.

The information that he had tried to call Jean at work prompted me to pay Bert another visit. He blustered and he cursed, but I just laughed at him. I held all the cards and we both knew it. As long as I held the threat of telling Kay over his head, I had him in the position he hated most, subservient to my desires.

It didn't take me long to let Bert know why I was there. I wanted to put the fear of God into him for breaking the rules. I knew he didn't have a good answer to my single question. "What part of 'Don't contact my wife' did you not understand?" This was his one warning, any further efforts to contact Jean and he was going down.

I focused on the abortive phone call, and didn't mention the email account. I wanted him to believe that I had a source of information on Jean's floor at the hospital. I wanted to prevent him from trying to go over to the hospital to talk to Jean.

It must have worked. He made no further efforts to contact Jean.

Jean.

How I wish things were as easy with her. Our efforts to teach her a lesson were a lot more complex than I expected. Things just didn't go how we planned. Her guilt complicated everything. For her own sanity, she needed atonement and sought it out.

After her confrontation with Kay and review of the CD, Jean thoroughly and systematically tried to eradicate the evidence of Bert from her life. She didn't want anything to remind her of him or of their affair. Clothing that she had bought on his suggestion was relegated to the scrap heap or given away. Lingerie that she had worn to trysts with Bert disappeared never to return. She went out and got her hair restyled in a brand new fashion and the frosted highlights that Bert had convinced her to try were re-dyed to match her normal color.

That's not to say that she reverted to her "pre-Bert" style. On many occasions, I had complimented her on her new sense of style so she didn't want to go back to what she was wearing before. Rather, she replaced Bert's preferences in clothing and lingerie with mine. Without saying a word, she rededicated herself to me. She carefully watched my reaction to her clothes. If I showed a positive response to a dress or an outfit, she added it to the clothes she wore on a regular basis. Items I did not care for were sent to the back of the closet.

In the bedroom, Jean was insistent. Not only did the frequency of our sex increase, the intensity soared as well. And a new trend emerged. Every few weeks, she asked me to let go. Not to make love, but to take her for my pleasure. To fuck her hard. She got more vocal begging me to take her and make her mine forever. It was if she wanted me to scourge her guilt by punishing her with hard and angry strokes of my cock.

But underlying her efforts, I could detect a quiet desperation. Jean thought that Kay was pursuing me. Jean was reacting to that threat by showing me that she was all the woman that I would ever need. But even at her most loving and vocal, there was pool of sadness hiding in her eyes. She couldn't totally avoid the undercurrent of doubts whispering to her. Was it was possible to make up for her betrayal? Wouldn't it serve her right if I did have an affair?

I didn't comment directly on the changes Jean was making. The problem was that I couldn't help but view her efforts with some cynicism. Her behavior reminded me too much of her earlier guilt. I continued to wonder about her motivation. Was she just trying to absolve her own guilt or was she finally understanding the pain that she had put me through? Until I could be sure, Kay and I continued with our plans to teach her what I had felt when I discovered her affair.

Kay and I continued to meet for lunch on a regular basis. But now, our efforts to hide our time together became sloppy. We were still sneaking around, but now we made it obvious. Robert Heinlein once wrote that the best way to draw attention to yourself is to act like you are hiding a secret.

Over our lunches, Kay and I strategized about the status of our fantasy affair. We had mock arguments over how quickly she would be able to seduce me. How long it would take before we kissed passionately for the first time; caressed each other's naked bodies; moved on to oral sex. And, of course, how long it would take to consummate our affair. To be honest, at times these discussions got pretty steamy and got both of us hot and bothered. It wasn't hard to come home looking flushed at the end of the day.

As far as Jean was concerned, we had to walk a fine line. We didn't want to drag things out for too long, because that could drive an insurmountable wedge between Jean and I. On the other hand, I didn't want to be seen as giving in too quickly. I had been married for over sixteen years and Jean knew my secrets as well as any person alive. She would be suspicious if I acted totally out of character.

At least initially, Jean was confident that I could resist Kay's seduction. She was counting on my resistance giving her the time to show me how much she loved me. But Kay suggested a way to use my resistance to teach her a lesson. I would resist, but I would do it alone. I wanted Jean to discover the pain of being shut out of a part of my life.

In the weeks following Kay's confrontation with Jean, I came home on numerous nights jumpy and anxious. When Jean asked what the matter was, I would mumble some excuse about problems at work. When she persisted, I snapped at her and told her I would deal with it myself. I could see the hurt in her eyes as she regretfully accepted my decision. Her pain made even worse by her knowledge of exactly what the problem was.

Then Kay started to call me at home a few nights per week. I would excuse myself and take the call in another room where we would have short intense conversations. I kept the discussion pleasant in tone, but firm. Jean heard me telling Kay that while she was a friend, I couldn't meet her for dinner or drinks. Jean wanted to help but felt helpless.

Gradually, my faux tension eased and my attitude changed. I stopped acting jumpy. Now, when Kay called, my tone was much more inviting and friendly. I still refused her offers to go out, but my resistance was getting weaker.