The Morality Vixenbyamyyum©
Two nights later I did a test of one of the pieces of equipment I had made up in the lab to facilitate my plan. I modified a plain ring, which I could very non-descriptly add to the other rings on the ring finger on my left hand, to prick skin and introduce the most powerful tranquilizer on the market into a person's back. That night as Brady fucked me missionary I put everything that I had into it and while we were both in the throes of orgasm pricked the skin on his back and introduced the tranquilizer. Within ten minutes he was completely out, and hadn't even noticed the pin prick, obviously misinterpreting it as a passion-scratch.
When I was sure that he was unconscious I rolled Brady off me, got his keys, opened up his locked briefcase, took out what he thought was his "secure" cellphone, and placed the highest end bug on the market in it. It automatically recorded all of his calls and I could download them through his briefcase at night. The bug worked off the cellphone battery and would recharge whenever the cellphone was recharged, and would remain off until the cellphone was activated.
In a trip to City Y two weeks after I planted the bug he made a call to an escort service. I downloaded it the night before he left on the trip. He had arranged a liaison at his hotel but she was to come directly to his room dressed in ordinary clothes, so as to avoid someone "inadvertently" seeing her, as he thought had happened in City X when I confronted him afterwards.
By that time I had established an almost normal relationship with my mother, and she was happy to come to our house to sleep overnight and watch the kids when Brady was out of town. As soon as I talked to Brady on the phone and put the kids to bed I went out.
My slinky dress was covered by a light raincoat so that my mother didn't see it. My high heels and extra makeup were in the car. I drove to one of the busy, high-end hotels in town and went into the bar. My long bare legs, enticing cleavage, and even more enticing look, made it plain why I was there.
I discouraged the first two guys who hit on me since they were obviously single. I also discouraged a really ugly married guy, but the next married guy to strike was good looking. I pretended to drink as he put the moves on me -- he actually did drink. He admitted that he was married; I confirmed that the rings on my fingers were real; yet we were up in his room within an hour of first contact.
I did a provocative strip for him. He was salivating by the time that I threw my wet panties into his face. Once he was where I wanted him I told him that he needed to eat me, and use a condom. I made sure that he saw my hammerless .32 in my purse when I opened it to pull out the condom.
He did a decent job of eating me, but was too excited to give me more than one minor orgasm -- which I played up as a major one. After I rolled the condom onto his cock he quickly buried himself and started stroking like crazy. I put everything I had into it too -- just like during my test with Brady -- including squeezing him hard and often with my overdeveloped pc muscles. As he groaned during ejaculation I groaned just as loudly and pricked his back with my special ring.
Just like Brady, he was out in ten minutes. I rolled him off me, took a shower, got out his wallet, copied down his address, and then injected him with a small amount of the protozoan parasite that causes trichomoniasis, the most curable STD. While if left untreated trichomoniasis can cause severe problems, if treated early with either tinidazole or metronidazole it can be cured completely. I gave him just enough parasite to be sure that he tested positive, but not enough to cause problems if he acted within a week.
I left a note for him telling him "Thanks so much for the great fuck, Bill. I see that it took a lot out of you -- lol. Cheers, Brianna."
The next day I sent a registered letter to his home address on another STD lab's stationary to his home address. It read:
"Dear William Barns:
Mrs. Brianna _____ (we cannot legally give you her full name) came to our clinic today and was tested for STDs. She has the STD trichomoniasis, and has had it for some time. It can be transmitted both by oral and penile contact with the genitals. She advises that you were a recent sex partner. You need to get tested at once, and if you have had sex with anyone else since Brianna they need to get tested immediately too. Treatment is simple and effective if you act immediately, but there are severe health consequences if you do not."
I typed in the name of the director of the other lab.
Over the next eight years my pattern remained the same. Whenever Brady arranged for a liaison on his business trips, whether it be with an escort or the married girlfriend he was having an affair with in City X after about a year, I went trolling for married guys to demonstrate that there were consequences for cheating. Whenever Brady came back from one of his trips I would fuck his lights out, inject him with tranquilizer, and draw some of his blood to test him for STDs, and I regularly tested myself. He obviously was always using condoms or his girlfriend was clean because he never had a problem.
I only had two incidents, one bad, one good, during my endeavors teaching lessons to married men. The bad one, about three years into my activities, was when a guy who seemed gentle but turned into an animal in his hotel room tried to fuck me without a condom. He underestimated my strength and resolve. After hitting him on the head with the phone next to the bed I got away, pulled out my .32, and stuck it in his mouth. As I asked him why I shouldn't blow his brains out I injected him with the tranquilizer.
When he was out I took photos of him naked, removed all of his cash and credit cards, and got both his business and home addresses. I cut up and threw out his credit cards, gave his cash to a charity, injected him with a double dose of trichomoniasis, and sent letters, with photos, to his wife and boss about his activities.
The good incident occurred about five years into my endeavors. I was sitting in one of my favorite hotel bars -- there are dozens in the large city that I live in -- when three guys came over. All were married, two were creepy, one was the best looking guy I had encountered. The two creepy guys were drunk, and getting drunker. They got handsy and aggressive and since I wasn't interested in them, I shut them down. The good looking guy -- Jensen -- seemed to be embarrassed by their actions, and tried to gently intervene on my behalf. Finally he convinced the two creepy guys to get to bed saying "We need to be in top shape for our meeting tomorrow," and escorted them away.
After noticing no other candidates, I resigned myself to striking out for the first time ever, and got up to leave. Just them Jensen came back.
"Brianna," (the alias I always used) "I'm so sorry for the actions of my business associates. I would have punched them out for some of the things they did or said, but they're from the main office of the corporation that I work for here in town and I can't afford to be on their bad side. Can you please forgive me?" Jensen said in a very sincere voice, while holding my hand.
"If you buy me a drink," I replied, thinking that this might be one of the relatively few guys that I could actually have a good time fucking, in addition to teaching a lesson.
We really seemed to hit it off. We had talked for an hour without him making any suggestive comments; the time really flew by. I decided that I needed to subtly prod him if we were going to fuck.
"So, Jensen, your married friends were all over me trying to get me to their room; why aren't you trying?" I inquired, with a grin.
"I don't know if I should burden you with my problems," he solemnly replied.
"Hey, I'm a good listener, go ahead," I retorted, gently touching his hand with mine, and then removing it.
"My wife cheated on me and I'm in the process of divorcing her, although I'm torn about it. It was her second affair but she's begging me to give her another chance, saying how much she loves me. I don't know what to do, but what I do know is that I won't cheat on her. I'm not going to bed with anyone else unless and until the divorce is final," he haltingly said.
"Wow, a guy with integrity," I said to myself.
We talked for another hour. Finally we both had to go home and get to work the next day. We exchanged email addresses and hugs, initiated as much by me as him. At lunch a week later I told him my real name and gave him a great bullshit story about why I was in the bar -- research for writing a book.
Over the next few years I saw Jensen an average of once every two weeks, for lunch or even some evenings when I would meet up with him rather than trolling for married guys to teach a lesson to. The true test of his character was when I went out with him a night Brady was on one of his trips and Jensen's divorce had become final a few days before. Despite the fact that he was no longer attached, and I pretended to be high, he treated me with dignity, respected the fact that I was married, and never attempted to get me to bed. When he drove me home and I acted like I was passed out I heard him mumble "God, I wish that she wasn't married. I'm so hot for her!" Then he did the only "inappropriate" thing ever around me. He gently grabbed one of my boobs and mumbled, "God I'd love to suck on that!"
I was secretly pleased when after his divorce Jensen would tell me about his inability to find someone else that he could get attached to. I commiserated with him but never gave any advice except "Be patient, the woman of your dreams will eventually become available," and then I would change the subject.
After eight years I was anxious to conclude my plan. Both of my kids were in good places in their lives, Brady had become less involved with them over the previous two years, and it was more and more difficult for me to be with him when I knew about his cheating. Also, I was getting tired of teaching other married guys lessons; I wanted Brady to pay.
Brady was about to go on a week-long business trip to City X, undoubtedly which would involve several days just with his honey. The weekend before Brady left I met Jensen in a park, both of us with our dogs, while my kids were at friends' houses and Brady was golfing.
In a secluded area I interrupted Jensen in mid-sentence, put one hand on his chest, and said "Jensen; I have something life changing to discuss with you," then got almost nose-to-nose with him. He is about three inches taller than my 5'11 ¾" height, but I grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to my level.
"I'm in love with you. I'm divorcing my cheating husband as soon as possible and I want to know how you feel about me and if we have a future when I dump him?" I said, with fire.
After a few seconds delay the confused look on his face vanished. He grabbed me, and for the first time in our relationship kissed me on the lips. His kiss was filled with lust and desire. It was long and delicious, maybe my best kiss ever.
"Ashley, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone else in my life," he stammered. "I want to spend the rest of my days with you!"
We kissed again, I massaged his erection through his pants, and he manipulated my tits through my blouse, in an embrace that had to have lasted five minutes.
I broke away, stared into his eyes and snickered, "The day that my divorce is final I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before. You'll be lucky if you don't walk bowlegged the rest of your life when I'm through with you!"
"You're on, babe," he fake scowled.
We walked hand-in-hand back to the main part of the park, then broke contact and sat on a bench. We resolved that we would not meet again until my divorce was final, although we would continue to talk on the phone.
That night, when I fucked Brady with everything that I had, I again injected him with tranquilizer. When he was out I injected him with the spirochete bacterium that causes syphilis. I removed the bug from his phone. I had already arranged to have a P. I. film and record him and his girlfriend in City X, paying for the whole week.
I made sure to stay around the house or work the entire time that Brady was away, and had friends over, or went to lunches with co-workers, to chronicle all of my activities that week.
By the time that Brady got home Saturday morning I was ready for him. Josh had taken the kids to an amusement park.
When Brady came in I had photos of him and his girlfriend -- some in compromising positions -- all over the house, and a video of them fucking that was playing in a continuous loop on the TV.
The color drained from his face, he muttered "What's this?"
"What does it look like, asshole. The end of our marriage; I'll be filing for divorce next week."
After a long pause, during which I ignored him, he said "What about the kids?"
"They don't need a philandering, cheating, jerk for a father. They'll be much better off without you," I sniped.
"I'll fight you for custody," he stammered, with no conviction in his voice.
I laughed heartily. Then I got a scowl on my face and said "From the looks of that whore that you're fucking on the T. V. -- without a condom I notice -- I'll bet that you've contracted a venereal disease. You're certainly never going to fuck me again. But I'll tell you what, asshole; you move out today, and go get tested so I see if I need to, and I won't send the video and photos to your co-workers and family."
"Why you bitch," he snarled, walking toward me in a threatening manner.
I pulled my .32 from a thigh holster hidden by my skirt and said "Make this easy for me Brady; save me the money for a lawyer and keep coming toward me in your threatening manner. By the way a camera is filming us now," I said pointing to a video camera on a counter with its "on" light clearly visible.
I've got to hand it to Brady. At least he knew when he was beaten. He took the suitcases that I had already packed for him with all of his clothes, jewelry, and favorite things, and brought them to his car. I handed him the address of another, besides the one I ran, STD testing lab in town, gave him my lawyer's name and address, and told him to send the results to my lawyer. He was served with divorce papers on Monday at work. In the hopes of facilitating matters the papers cited "irreconcilable differences" as the reason for the divorce.
Of course there was a shit storm when he tested positive for syphilis. He accused me of infecting him, so my attorney arranged for me to go to the same clinic that he was tested at with both his attorney and mine present as witnesses. Not surprisingly my results came back negative.
I heard from various sources that his girlfriend's husband was beyond ballistic when both he and his cheating wife also tested positive, and he filed for divorce the day after he found out. After the STD tests Brady gave me everything I wanted in the divorce: full custody of the kids, the house, 70% of the other marital assets, and reasonable child support. I didn't ask for alimony, and I gave him reasonable visitation rights as long as he got STD testing every three months and if there was a positive test he couldn't see the kids until there was a negative one.
Even with Brady's cooperation it took four months -- the longest four months of my life -- for the divorce to come through. Every time I started longing for Jensen's cock -- even though I had never seen it -- I did more pc muscle exercises, including with an exercise assisting device, and by squeezing a dildo.
My divorce was final on a Friday. Saturday morning Jensen and I were on a flight to Bermuda where we -- literally -- fucked each other comatose every day for a week, until we both were so sore that we could barely walk. We were exceptionally pleased with each other's naked bodies. How fantastic our physical relationship was made our already existing love even greater.
Jensen and I have been married for three years now, and my kids love him almost as much as I do. It is so wonderful to know that we're not cheating on each other, and never will. I've finally got it good, and have taught many philandering husbands that there are consequences for cheating!