tagNonConsent/ReluctanceHell Hath No Fury

Hell Hath No Fury


Author's note: I must confess up front that I did not come up with the idea for this story. I read one with a similar theme several years ago, but I cannot remember on what site, or by what author. Even though I can't remember most of the details of that story, I do remember the ending. I've always thought it was one of the better stories I've read. So, having confessed to that, I will write my version of it.


Gail never felt guilty about her affair with Carl, even though he and his wife were close friends. She really liked Carl's wife, Linda. Carl and Jack, Gail's husband, were good friends too, bowling and fishing buddies.

It was a beneficial arrangement for everyone, even though Jack and Linda knew nothing of the affair and thus had no idea of the benefits they were unknowingly reaping from it.

The discrete lovers each had needs that their respective spouses could simply never understand and would never provide. Gail loved Jack very much; just as she had from the first minute she'd met him eleven years earlier. He was a wonderful man, a good provider, and they shared the desire to remain childless. They enjoyed many of the same activities and enjoyed each other's company.

Gail though, had once dated a boy in college who possessed a very large penis. It was long and thick and had sent her into pure ecstasy hundreds of times during the few months of their relationship. Jack's penis wasn't small by normal standards, but it was tiny when compared to that possessed by her college boyfriend.

She managed to put it out of her mind for years and was genuinely happy and content with Jack's lovemaking. While attending the bachelorette party for one of her friends though, and upon seeing the massive cock possessed by one of the male dancers hired to entertain them, the memories of her college lover came flooding back. It was all she could do to keep her hands and mouth off of it.

For the next year, Gail could think of little else. She tried to erase it from her memory but she could not. She even bought a large dildo and used it on herself when Jack was out of town, but it was not a satisfying substitute for what she really needed.

Gail would never have gone looking for a man with the type of equipment she needed, longed for, ached to experience again. No, she would not do that—could not even entertain the idea. But she didn't have to go looking. She knew where one was.

Such a cock was between the legs of their neighbor, Carl. She'd seen him dozens of times in swimming trunks at both their houses. And she'd seen the bulge it made down his leg during the dirty jokes and stories he and Jack would swap on occasion.

Gail's obsession grew until she finally made up her mind to have it. It wouldn't be difficult. She'd seen Carl staring at her in "that" way many times. Gail was sure that tempting Carl into making the first move would be easy . . . and it was.

But Carl was also very blunt about why he would consider a rendezvous. "I have never cheated on Linda, and there is only one thing that would make me even consider it." He too had a hidden obsession, and it was one not shared easily. She was shocked at what she heard when finally the alcohol level in his blood loosened him enough to finally say it out loud. "Linda gives me everything I want . . . except one thing. I know her well enough to know what her reaction would be, so I can't force myself to ask her."

It took a little more prodding from Gail even then, but he had finally just blurted it out "very rough sex".

Gail managed to recover from the shock enough to ask him to be more specific, and boy, had he ever been specific. He liked to actually drag his lover around by her hair, spank her harshly, bite her nipples, sting her entire body with a riding crop, and even force himself into her ass and throat. "No mercy given", he'd said while looking Linda straight in the eyes.

Linda's reaction had been simply, "Wow! I'm going to have to give that some thought."

After several days of contemplating just what price she was willing to pay to have what she needed, Gail finally agreed to his terms. And for the next fourteen months, they gave each other what they could not get at home.

They would meet once a week. There was no love between them. They each loved their spouses. Their relationship was merely a business arrangement, quid pro quo, tit for tat, this for that. One week, Carl's massive cock would be hers to do with as she pleased. The next week, Gail's body would belong to him. It worked out well for both of them, and their spouses were never the wiser.

And then one day the unthinkable happened. Carl ended their relationship abruptly and without explanation. He said simply "It's over between us and that is that."

Gail couldn't believe it. He had not shown any signs that his brutal obsession had dwindled. She knew he'd miss it and come crawling back to her, begging for forgiveness, but he did not.

After three weeks, Gail parked her car down the street from Carl's office and then followed him. He drove to a different hotel than where she'd always met him, but there was no doubt in Gail's mind why he was there. Her suspicions were confirmed when Carl was joined by a young blond woman—young and sexy . . . much younger and sexier than Gail.


Six months later, Gail began planning for a party to be held at their home. Six couples were invited, and all six accepted. It would be a marvelous party. Gail even hired a band to play out at the pool. To help with the preparations, Gail solicited the help of one of the other wives. Her name was Roberta, or Berta as she preferred to be called. Berta was famous for throwing wonderful parties. She was a great cook and had a knack for making every party special.

Of course, Berta had no idea that she was going to be Gail's coconspirator in extracting her revenge from Carl. She didn't need to know. When Berta heard Gail's idea for a special game they might play to make the party more memorable, Berta eagerly agreed "Oh yes, that could be fun, and I'm sure everyone will remember our party for the rest of their lives."

Gail would print up the rules and present them to the other guests prior to the party breaking up. Berta's role would be to simply support her in gaining everyone's agreement to play.

Gail had also solicited the cooperation of Jack and Linda, but without giving them every detail of the game. She told them only enough to get them to agree to help her encourage the other party guests to go along with it. Jack thought it was a great idea and agreed eagerly. Linda, being more reserved finally agreed but only after a fair amount of coaxing.


The party was a huge success. The food was marvelous. The band was great, and everyone seemed to relax and enjoy the mild summer evening by the pool. Gail had done an excellent job of not making direct eye contact with Carl. When she did accidentally look his way and found that he was paying her new bikini no attention at all, her stomach began to churn. It took a concentrated effort not to giggle when she thought of how she was going to make him pay for jilting her.

Gail was both nervous and giddy inside as she announced that it was getting late and that they should all move into the living room for a game before parting "Just a little icing on the cake that has been a truly wonderful evening for Jack and me."

When everyone was seated, Gail handed out the printed rules. As she was doing so, Berta stood and said "Ladies, here's your big chance . . . oh and I'm sure you men will enjoy it too."

The guests were evenly split in their reactions, but with some coaxing from those who loved it, the others fell into place. All six couples agreed to play. Of course, no one would ever know if they actually did. The printed rules had a brief introduction:

"If one were to crawl into the brain of their spouse with a broom and flashlight, sweep away the cobwebs and shine the light into the dark corners, they would probably find some interesting little hidden fantasy that has been locked away there and has never seen the light of day. Our marriages have all lasted longer than seven years, and one for over fifteen years. Unfortunately, even long term married couples sometimes have trouble sharing those most personal, most secretive, most guarded, and perhaps most embarrassing little fantasies with our spouses.

This game is intended to provide each of us with a means to let our fantasy be known to our spouse in the least embarrassing way possible. If we are to enjoy the rest of our lives together, we should know and trust each other well enough to share it. So if you all agree, here are the rules:"

1.Each spouse must agree to participate in the fulfillment of their partner's fantasy without question, without issuing judgment, and without complaint.

2.No fantasy is too wild, too weird, too kinky, or too strange. Spouses should feel free to describe their fantasy completely, in exacting detail, without reservation or fear of scorn.

3.To make describing it easier, the fantasy will be typed and mailed to the spouse.

4.No words will ever be spoken about your spouse's fantasy, before fulfilling it, or afterward . . . especially afterward.

5.No spouse may inquire about the details or ask for clarification. They must trust that their spouse was as specific or as vague as they wished to be, even if that means filling in between the lines yourself.

6.The husbands will go first, mailing their wives their typed instructions within one week of tonight.

7.The wives must fulfill their husband's fantasy within two weeks of receiving it.

8.The wives will then type up and mail their fantasy to their husbands within one week of having fulfilled their husband's fantasy.

9.Again, the husbands must fulfill their wife's fantasy within two weeks of receiving it.

10.No one may share their spouse's fantasy with another living person . . . ever.

11.Your decision to participate is to be made here, tonight, before you leave the party. There can be no discussion or private negotiation about it after leaving here.

"Have fun, and enjoy knowing that you are free to describe your fantasy to your spouse completely, in great detail, and without fear of rejection or ridicule."

Gail could feel Carl's stare burning into her. She ignored it and asked each person in turn for their commitment to play the game and their agreement to the rules and conditions. After only modest hesitation, all agreed. There were hugs and kisses at the door, and more than one comment about the game and what a wonderful idea it was.


Linda worked outside the home. Gail did not. Their mailboxes were right next to each other at the curb, so for Gail, checking Linda's mailbox everyday was easy. On the forth day, she found a letter addressed to Linda from Carl.

The steam worked its magic and Gail was soon reading Carl's fantasy. She chuckled while reading it. It didn't surprise her that Carl had not chosen to reveal his hidden obsession to his wife. He was a coward. But knowing Linda as Gail did, she knew Carl was right about how Linda would surely react if he did.

Carl and Linda had planned to go to the Caribbean in a few days. Carl's typed fantasy was simple. Linda was to go topless on the beach and in the beachside bars at every opportunity. Gail knew that Linda would shit when she read it . . . but of course, Linda would never read it. Gail stuffed the envelope with the replacement letter that she had prepared weeks earlier. Then she resealed it and returned it to her neighbor's mailbox.


Linda's jaw dropped before she finished reading the first paragraph of her husband's letter. She couldn't believe he had such a thing in his head, such a perverse, twisted, disgusting desire. By the time she finished reading it, she was in tears and shaking all over. Even though she'd never been much of a drinker, she headed straight to the wet bar and poured herself a healthy shot of Scotch. She drank it quickly, shuttered, and then poured another one equal in volume to the first. "Holy Shit!" she finally gasped out loud as the alcohol finally made its way into her bloodstream and began tingling her nerves. Then in a more reverent, solemn tone, she said "Hoooolllllyyyyy Shiiiiiiiit!"


It had taken every bit of restraint Linda could muster to resist telling Carl what she thought of his perverted fantasy and that she was going to refuse to do it. Finally though, she came to the realization that the . . . the fantasy was part of him. He wanted it, regardless of how disgusting the mere idea of it was to her. That . . . thing . . . was a part of her husband, part of the man she married, the man she loved far beyond her ability to describe it. She worshiped him. She always had. She had married him for better and for worse. For nine years, it had been easy. She had received only the better. How could she balk now that she was being presented with the worst?

Linda resigned herself to fulfilling her husband's fantasy. She had made all of the preparations, just as he had described them in his letter. He had made it easier for her by telling her in his letter where to find what she needed. She couldn't believe he actually knew where she should go for those things, but he had obviously thought it through and had done his homework. That, as much as anything else, is what had finally convinced her to do it. If he wanted it that badly—enough to actually investigate where to go to get those things, then he must truly want it.

She kept telling herself over and over "Just do it and get it over with and then it will be done and we can get past it and hopefully . . . forget it."


Carl Ferguson arrived home at exactly five-twenty, just like he did every weekday. But Linda was usually there to greet him with a bright, cheery smile and a warm hug. Where was she? "Linda?" He called out.

"I'm up here" she called back to him "in the bedroom. Come on up. I have something I want to show you."

Ah, he thought, perhaps a new outfit for their upcoming trip, or maybe she'd even gone to the tanning salon to insure that she didn't have tan lines when she had to finally go topless on the beach for him. He chuckled at the thought of it. He knew she'd be embarrassed, but she really did need to open up more and stop being so sexually inhibited. Perhaps this little fantasy game of Gail's was going to be the first step in that direction.

The instant he stepped into the bedroom, he was grabbed from behind. Strong hands were on him, at least four of them. His arms were pinned behind his back roughly. Before he could protest, a rag was stuffed into his mouth, almost taking several teeth with it. He was forced toward the bed like a rag doll. Whoever they were, they were strong and he had no chance of freeing himself.

He finally managed to turn enough to see one of them. He was a big body-builder type with large muscles rippling beneath his t-shirt. The two of them worked in tandem. His hands were tied to the brass headboard. He felt his pants being removed and then his boxers. He caught a brief glimpse of Linda standing in the bathroom door. She appeared to be crying, but she wasn't making a move to help him. Why wasn't she calling the police? Why wasn't she running away? Why was she just standing there watching as these two brutes bound him?

He felt something like leather straps being tied around his thighs. He struggled to free himself, but it was useless. Finally, he was hoisted up onto his knees and the straps stretched tightly toward the head of the bed and tied there. To prevent him from rolling over, straps were also stretched from his thighs out to the sides. He could feel the tug in each direction. His ankles were drawn in the opposite direction, toward the foot of the bed. He was totally helpless, his face in a pillow and his ass sticking high into the air. He couldn't get free. And then there was almost total silence. The only thing he could hear was his wife sobbing.


"How could he possibly want this?" Linda thought to herself for the thousandth time as she struggled to regain her composure. The two men were gone—the ones Carl had instructed her to call and to whom she had given the five hundred dollars for helping her prepare her husband to receive his horrid fantasy. Still not sure that she could go through with it, she hesitated and then showed him the cat-o-nine tails in her trembling hand. His eyes widened when he saw it and they were pleading with her to stop. His head was shaking violently and he was emitting muffled pleadings through the gag in his mouth, just as he had described in his letter.

Linda steeled herself. So far everything had happened just as he'd described it to her. She hadn't even had to tell those two men what to do. They had already received their instructions from him. It was just so . . . surreal.

Finally, she proceeded. One sharp sting of the whip across his buttocks, then one across the back of his thighs, then three more across his buttocks. Each time the whip met his flesh, his muffled screams intensified, and each time, the strands of the whip left their signature on him.

Okay, she whispered to herself, finally able to take a deep breath. That was five hard lashes with the whip. Thank god that part is over. She took several more deep breaths and then reached under the bed for the huge strap-on dildo. It was a horrible looking thing. It had bumps and ridges over most of its surface. It was huge, at least twelve inches long and as big around as . . . as his own thick massive penis. She had no idea how it would fit inside him, but she had purchased the precise brand and model he had specified.

She removed her clothes and immediately began strapping it around her. As per his instructions, she did this while standing to one side of the bed so that he could watch her prepare herself. Just as with the whip, his eyes looked first horrified and then pleading, and his shaking head and muffled begging became even more disturbing. Still, she was determined.

She moved behind him. God, if he hadn't been so specific about her not lubing more than just the tip of the gigantic thing—just enough to get it started inside him, it would surely be easier on him. But it had long since become obvious to her that he didn't want it to be easy. For some weird, perverted, disgusting reason, he wanted it to be as painful as possible.

She positioned the tip against its target, took a deep breath, and thrust her hips forward with all of her might.

The End


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