The Curmudgeon

I had all the information about one Burton McAlister Jeffreys. He was at least 10 years younger than my wife. He owned an insurance agency in our very town. He was quite successful. He lived in one of the most upscale neighborhoods in a house I could never hope to own. I could go on except I should mention that he was also married. I wondered if Mrs. Jeffrys was aware of Burton's extracurricular activities. I doubted very seriously that she knew. Another piece of information for my journal.

Now I wanted to know just how far this thing had gone. Was it still just an online sexting game? Had they taken it to the next level with a real-time meet? That was the next thing I wanted to find out. There was also a question about whether this was the first time or if it was a set of serial situations. More detective work.

I began to explore the possibilities of my keylogger software. Lo and behold, for a slightly more phenomenal fee, I could add services to my plan to log the voice calls made from that burner phone. That was soon paid for and set up. Now I just had to wait some more.

Two days later I had what I wanted. I checked the log and found several phone calls, a couple of dozen texts, and she had been in the chat room four times. The longest lasted an hour and a half. I went to the logging software and looked. I discovered that the upgrade to the burner phone software carried over to the laptop software, and I now have a beautiful transcript of all the conversations that went on in that chatroom. The hour-and-a-half visit had included a very verbose and graphic scene she had with 5 other guys. I was a free-for-all texting gangbang. I was surprised both at the actions my wife described and the language she used.

After a few more days, I checked back. There were three more phone calls. I listened to them and got to hear the voice of my wife's alleged paramour. He sounded like an average Joe. I am no expert on men's sexy voices, but he sounded pretty average to me. What I did pick up was the difference in my wife's voice. She cooed for this guy. Her voice was demure and low. It had a sexy lilt I hadn't heard in years.

The actual conversations were more mundane. They asked how each other were. They talked about everyday activities. They checked on each other's schedules so they could plan their next online rendezvous. Finally, on the last call, they got to the point. She told Burton that she wasn't sure about their plan. She had never done anything like that before. I heard him assure her that in her circumstances and that she was a healthy woman with her own needs, it was not unusual that she wanted to find a solution to her problem. I could only assume that I was the problem.

They had gone back and forth for several minutes and I heard Burton begin to press a little bit. He told her he had a hotel room in the nearby city and that they could have an entire weekend alone. I kept listening, hoping he would give up the hotel's name. To my disappointment, they agreed to meet in a week from next Friday. They would drop her car at a parking lot near his offices that he knew was secure and they would drive to their little love nest for the weekend.

I was now curious how she would handle this. She hadn't traveled by herself for years. I continued to monitor the log. There was a lot more activity in the chatroom, on the burner phone, and texts on her phone. There wasn't much interest except that she was getting more and more explicit in her texting in the chat room and her activities were becoming more and more extreme. It painted a much different picture of my loving, proper wife.

On Tuesday, she popped up one morning and announced that she and three of her girlfriends were going to a quilting seminar in the city close by. They would be staying over from Friday afternoon to late Sunday afternoon. I, being the suave and sophisticated guy I am, looked at her and said OK, have a great time. I think the ease with which I accepted her announcement was a little disconcerting.

Friday came and she put her sewing machine, crafting stuff, and a small suitcase in the car. She came in, gave me a quick short kiss, and told me she would be home late Sunday evening. I watched from the front window as she drove down the street. I had been thinking all week about what I should do. Should I jump in the car and follow her? Should I confront her and her boyfriend at his office? Should I just monitor the situation through the logging software? In the end, I sort of picked a hybrid option. As soon as she left, I had a small suitcase packed along with a newly purchased camera with a large telephoto lens. I thought it was cool because I had seen some detective on a TV show use one to take pictures of a criminal.

Anyway, I tossed my gear in my truck, locked the house door, and took the most direct route to the city up the highway. I knew what hotel they were going to. I thought I had an advantage. I guessed it would take them some time to transfer her luggage to his vehicle. I didn't think they would move the sewing machine and all the craft supplies, just her small bag. I also guessed they would bill and coo a little and not drive like I was driving. I figured them for a leisurely drive.

I got to the hotel in about an hour and 15 minutes and parked my truck where I was not easily seen but could easily see the hotel entrance. I sat back to wait with a cup of coffee and a bag of donut holes from the truck stop at the edge of town. I only had time to eat about half that bag of donut holes when I saw a sleek, high-dollar, black sedan pull up to the hotel and park under the portico. I grabbed the camera and zoomed the lens to see a man about 6 ft tall get out of the car. He was balding, had a definite paunch, and, I swear to God, he did a little skip as he walked around the back of the car.

I watched as he opened the door and held his hand to help her. She got out, smiling, cuddled beside him, and held his arm as they walked inside. That was the last I saw of them that weekend. I put the camera in the car seat, tossed the half-empty coffee cup out the window, along with the last donut holes, and headed home. I had an hour's drive to think.

By the time I got home, I had an outline of a plan. I immediately set to work to put it into action. Fortunately, I had a whole weekend uninterrupted to get started. I made a fresh pot of coffee and immediately set to work.

For the next 4 hours, I worked continuously online. I went back to the online chat room and completed my registration, changing my screen name to something that I thought might be more amenable to my plan. When I was done, I appeared to the chat room world as PassionateSir. I was a 70-year-old single dominant with a bent toward group sex and BDSM.

Next, I upgraded the logging software on both of the phones and her laptop to the highest level they had. This allowed me to turn on the microphone and the camera remotely on both phones without anyone knowing. I tried it out. I turned on the microphone on the burner phone I knew she was carrying. I was rewarded with a bunch of muffled unintelligible sounds which I took to be caused by the phone being in her purse. I turned it off and continued with the implementation of my plan. I eventually got everything set up the way I wanted. That left me with the rest of the weekend to kill.

When she came home on Sunday evening, I was sitting in the den watching a movie. She appeared to be in a great mood. It was almost too good. She breezed in, set her bag in the entryway and for the next 30 minutes told me what a wonderful time she had, what she learned about sewing and quilting, and what new projects she was planning. I listened, smiled, and told her I was glad she had such a good time. She claimed to be tired and then went up to bed.

I sat up a while longer and then headed to the bedroom. She was already asleep and snoring.

The next day I put my plan into action. I set up the new laptop and kept it on my desk all the time. My efforts on the weekend that she was gone were beneficial. I now knew that Burton used the screen name "Yourmyslut" in the chat room. Nice. That gave me a little more insight into the whole situation.

As soon as I saw her screen name I also saw Yourmyslut pop up and then the private room opened. I nosed around for a while and then sent Yourmyslut a private message. I simply asked if he could help a newbie. To my surprise, he answered back promptly asking what help I needed. For the next 45 minutes, I queried him about protocols and the mechanics of the chat rooms. We eventually talked about our interests. I knew what he liked based on what I had gleaned from his profile and other sources. I played to those interests, feigning an interest and understanding of them. I noted that my wife had left some time ago, but Burton kept chatting. He kept asking more and more about my experience and my interest. I kept feeding him what I thought he wanted to hear. It worked. He invited me back the next night to visit his private room. He promised me a good time. I agreed.

The next night, I showed up at the designated time. Burton privately messaged me when I came online and invited me to his room. I popped into the room and was immediately met by 5 other screen names and Burton. We chatted for a long time. This was a group that met regularly and shared some rather extreme interests. This was, I learned, the group that had been sexting my wife for about 4 months. Burton let the conversation continue for a while and then broke in to announce that it was about time for their plaything to arrive. Sure enough, in about 5 minutes sugarbum came into the room.

She greeted everyone by name, even me. Burton told her to come in and get comfortable. She immediately went into a detailed description of the lingerie she wore and how she looked. I had to admit that she made herself sound very attractive. The five other men began immediately. It was a full-on text gangbang. She responded and replied back in a way that kept me surprised. She had never offered me anal sex, but tonight she was encouraging them all to dump cum in her ass and then offered to suck their cocks. Ass to mouth. I made some more notes in my journal.

Burton asked if I wouldn't join in and I took advantage. I was curious just how far she would go in a fantasy. I told him I thought it was time to give her a good DP. Burton seemed to be pleased at my suggestion. I described, in detail, putting my cock in her pussy while another of the men in the room used her ass. One of the guys took the opportunity to pull her head to one side and was rigorously fucking her mouth.

Of course this was all in fantasy. It took some getting used to reading the rapidly scrolling text in the room. After a while, I got rather bored. I began to PM Burton, asking him questions. I don't know why, but he answered quickly and in-depth. I asked how long he had been playing with sugarbum online and he said about 8 months, on and off. He had opened the room about 6 months ago and began to recruit some of his online friends. When he found my wife online, he said it was easy to talk her into the room and then gradually push her further and further into more extreme acts.

He never hesitated when I asked if he had ever met her in person. He told me about the weekend at the hotel and how he had fucked her repeatedly, ass fucked her and fucked her mouth. He gave me the LOL acronym when he told me that she had fucked him so much that even with Viagra he couldn't keep up. He said she was somewhat reticent at first but when she got going, she was almost insatiable. I then began probing about his further intentions.

I asked if he had any more plans to meet her. He told me that he was working on it. I then altered my plan on the fly. I made a suggestion. I told him I thought it would be a great weekend if he could get her to somewhere more private than a hotel. Then convince her to let herself be blindfolded and tied up with a promise of an exciting weekend. He was a little unconvinced that she would go that far on only their second weekend. I suggested he try it in one of their chat room sessions to see how she would react and get it into her mind. I then begged off and left, leaving him to think about those possibilities.

I sat in my office. I vacillated through a range of emotions. I was at times, angry, frustrated, depressed, morose, back to angry and on and on. There were a few times I wanted to confront her, find Burton and kick his ass, and gather my shit and leave. After several hours, I had worked through a plethora of plans until I settled on one that was a bit more complicated, included a bit of burn, and might just change the entire balance of power in this whole relationship.

I continued to hang around the chat room for the next several weeks. I participated in several more sessions in the private chat room. Each one got a little more perverse and extreme until they had, in fantasy, tied my wife to all sorts of apparatus, fucking her and abused her with whips, dildos, fucking machines, and all sorts of other tortures. She participated in the fantasy readily.

About 8 days after the first session I had attended, Burton messaged me. After some pleasantries, he confided that he was going to spring the idea of the blindfold and gangrape on her that night to see how she reacted. I agreed to be there to see for myself. As usual, I showed up a few minutes early and did my best to glean some more information from the regular members of the room. I did find out that the ones who would give up information all lived within a 100-mile radius of our neighboring city. Burton was picking his friends carefully. More information for my journal.

When my wife arrived in the room, she was all smiles and happy. Burton plunged right in and set the scene for her. A group of men took her, tossed into a van, and described taking her to a remote farm with an old barn. She was then assaulted, beaten at times, and gang-raped roughly by at least 5 different men over the course of several hours.

I continued to be astonished at how easily she slipped into these roles. She played the fantasy game with them giving back with lurid descriptions, foul language, and sometimes things that she knew would escalate the fantasy to a new level. One such instance was when one of the men in the room described forcing her jaw open in the back of the van and ramming his cock into her mouth. She promptly described biting down on his cock until she tasted blood and heard him scream. Of course, the description elicited an upswing in the intensity as two of the other men began to describe beating her mercilessly for injuring their friend.

I joined in to a certain extent to ensure no one got suspicious. I have to admit that it was arousing. As turned on as I was, nothing stirred between my legs. My brain, on the other hand, was screaming for sexual relief. That is why I quickly learned to keep a towel handy to handle the subsequent mess. I used that towel several times that evening. I also picked up a lot more information. After my wife left the room, I hung around to chat with those who still stayed there. I talked to Burton in private messages about his plan to take this fantasy to real life.

He laid out his thoughts and I began to make suggestions gently. He wanted to go back to the hotel. I mentioned I thought that was a bad idea. If she reacted the way she had in the text fantasy just now, it could get very noisy and rambunctious. I suggested he find someplace in the country, isolated and private. He saw the wisdom in my suggestion.

I told him to let me know once he had a place and that I would have more suggestions. He asked if I had done this type of scene before. I lied and told him many times. That seemed to mollify him and we continued to discuss the particulars.

It was almost a week later that I had a private message on the chat room from Burton. He told me he had found an Airbnb close to the city, set on a peaceful 15 acres of farmland and almost a mile off the closest paved road. He included the link. I looked at the property and found it to be a rather substantial log cabin, two stories, and set in the middle of a dense wood. It was listed as a hunting cabin but at this time of year there were no hunting seasons open so the price was quite reasonable. I messaged back that it looked promising.

I quickly went to work. I contacted the listing agent and came up with some story about putting together a small corporate retreat. As part of my planning, I wanted to visit the property to scope it out and make sure it was suitable for our needs. She was happy to provide a key that would let me have access to the property.

I made arrangements to pick up the key a few days later and spend the rest of the day looking at the property and then getting with her to make arrangements. My real intent was to recon the property and make a few installations while I was there.

Three days later I picked up the key from her office and drove out to the property. As the ad had said, it was remote and isolated. I parked by truck behind the house, out of sight of the road, though I doubted anyone would be coming down that track. I entered the property through the back door and began to look around. I found a really quite nice log cabin with about 4,000 square feet of living space. It was on two floors with living areas downstairs and bedrooms upstairs. The master bedroom suite was huge with a hand built four-poster bed made from pine logs. I would be perfect.

I had with me several small wireless cameras. These were some of the latest on the market. I began to carefully place them in the Master bedroom to give me three different camera angles that would cover the entire room with the bed in the center of the frame. I then put one downstairs that would cover most of the den and living area. The last one went on the outside looking at the parking area in front of the house and the front porch. I had to install a small satellite uplink because there was no cell service. This was a dead area. Fortunately, there was an attic that could be accessed from a closet on the second floor. The attic had power and provided an easily concealed location to put the small router/transceiver setup and a small parabolic dish.

I sat in my truck with my little laptop and tested the system. It seemed to work perfectly. I drove back to the realtor's office, dropped off the key, and told her that I would be back in touch in a few days with our decision. I headed home.

Friday afternoon, my wife made her excuse and left for the afternoon and evening to ostensibly play cards with her friends. I told her to have fun and as soon as she left, I was on the laptop and in the chat room. As soon as I entered, Burton privately messaged me that he had reserved the log cabin for the weekend after next. That gave me time to put the next stage of my plan into execution.

While the chat was happening, I sat and worked on plans. I didn't participate much and when Burton asked if I didn't like the scene, but I told him it was great, but I had a presentation due at work and was trying to put the finishing touches on. He asked what kind of work I did, and I immediately told him I was a consulting researcher and worked independently. He had no real answer for that. I must mention here that, at the time, my wife was busily participating in a fantasy in which she was being tortured by a number of foreign police agents. It all seemed a bit contrived to me and I really had no interest in it.

By the time they were finished with my wife, I had almost everything I needed ready.

Two days later, I mentioned to my wife that the following weekend I was probably going to leave home on Thursday evening early and drive to my old hometown for a high school reunion. There was, of course, no reunion, but it was a convenient contrivance to get out of town. She asked how long I would be gone and I told her my plan was to be home early Monday morning as several of my old buddies were planning on playing golf all day Sunday and I didn't want to drive home after dark. She agreed that was probably a good idea.