Just Across the Fence

I think you will find the series make more sense if the episodes are read in sequence.

I apologize for making those interested wait so long for this update. In the previous episode, John discovered that Beth had been engaging in a deception that she thought was harmless and largely inconsequential. And so did I, when I wrote it. But upon reflection, I realized it was much more serious, the sort of thing that can lead to an erosion of confidence and trust between partners. As such, I felt it had to be dealt with quickly-and harshly, driving the narrative in a somewhat unexpected direction, so much so that I decided it was best to put this in the BDSM category, certainly something I hadn't anticipated or planned. In real life, actions have consequences, and the stories we write should not tiptoe around that.

I'm not a highly experienced author; perhaps it's normal for a tale to occasionally take the author into uncharted waters in this way. Hope you like the somewhat darker vibe of this episode...because Chapter 09 is shaping up to be darker still.

Everyone engaged in sex is eighteen or older.

Chapter 08. Crime and Punishment...

"You've been a bad, bad girl," I told Beth ominously. "Go upstairs and wait for me in the bedroom. I need to tell Anna something. It will only take me a minute...and then I'll come up there and we'll figure out how I should deal with you, Miss Machiavelli, and this 'not so innocent' little game you've been playing with other people's lives...."

I had initially thought her sketchy shenanigans, in which I had caught my girlfriend Beth more-or-less red-handed, would just be an excuse for some sexy fun. But the more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that it was a serious matter, and not something that could be put behind us that easily.

"I know I screwed up, big time, and I'm sorry," she admitted abjectly, when I joined her in the bedroom a few minutes later. "But is trying to find other women for you to fuck now and then really such a terrible crime?"

"You've done more than try," I reminded her. "You talked me into it once already, and you were pitching Number Two quite eloquently just now."

"But you had a lot of fun with Anna," she protested. "Didn't you? What's wrong with that?"

"Whether Anna and I had fun with it is beside the point, and you damn well know it," I pointed out. "The problem is that what you've been doing is indulging in your own little game of manipulating other people around like pawns, playing games with their lives-my life-without us being aware that you're doing it for your own amusement and titillation, and rationalizing it to yourself on the grounds that everyone else is having fun, too. You called the tune; now you must pay the piper."

"Damn it, I should have known better than to fall in love with an engineer," she carped regretfully. "You guys always spoil everyone's fun with your stupid facts, and logic, and common sense."

"I'm only doing what my nature leads me to do," I agreed. "Just like the scorpion in the fable couldn't stop himself from doing what he felt he had to, even if it got him killed. It's a dirty job, but..."

"...someone has to do it, yeah, yeah," she finished for me. "What are you going to do to me, anyway?"

"I haven't decided yet. Maybe something you might want me to do again someday...if it doesn't give one of us a stroke, or a heart attack," I informed her.

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that at all," she said apprehensively.

"It's meant to be an appropriate, measured response to the unsavory behavior you've been engaged in. You're not supposed to like it."

"OK, then. Fair enough," she said resolutely, walking around me to the foot of the bed, reaching down to the ottoman I kept there, and pushing it out into the middle of the room. "Would you take a seat on this, please?" she asked, hesitantly, and I obliged, curious about what she up to. It seemed she might be taking charge of her own punishment, and if so, I was very interested in hearing her take on what she thought I should do with her about her deception.

Beth stepped back, and began to very deliberately disrobe, tossing her clothes onto the chair in the corner. Not any sort of sexy, teasing striptease; she was just getting naked for me, as a preliminary to whatever came next. When she was finished, she knelt demurely directly in front of me. Her face seemed calm, but her shining eyes, and her stiff, erect nipples poking out from her pendent breasts, betrayed her excitement...and arousal.

"I've heard it said that confession is good for the soul," she began, tentatively. "Now I know I can't claim any credit for confessing, of course, since you already caught me in the act, as it were, so this is more in the nature of a full accounting to you of my misbehavior.

"I have indeed been plotting, and conniving, to get you into bed with other women; your granddaughter Anna, and our neighbor Evelyn, women that I like and respect. And it's true that they are women whom I believed would benefit from being with you, and I was sure you would have fun too. But helping them, and facilitating a fun experience for you, was not my primary motive. As you already know, of course.

"My main purpose was to indulge my secret little hobby of loaning my lover out to friends, for sex. For my own private amusement and titillation, just like you said. And you're right; doing it without those involved knowing the real reason why they're being manipulated is not right, or fair....and I knew that. But I did it anyway, because I thought everyone would just think I was doing it out of generosity, sharing the wealth, you know. And...because I was pretty sure I could get away with it, since I didn't think anyone would look too closely at an arrangement that was so much fun for them.

"But...I obviously underestimated you, John," she lamented. "You caught on to my little private game, and now it looks like I have to face the music. So...what's it gonna be, lover? What dire consequences are you planning for me?"

"I hadn't actually made up my mind, yet," I replied, contemplatively. "But let me ask you this: If it was me who did something like this to you, or someone you care about, what sort of penalty would you impose?"

"Oh, shit, you would go that route, wouldn't you?" she sighed plaintively. "Make me name my own poison? OK, let me think...." She pondered for a moment, and then her eyes opened wide in shock, and dismay, and the color drained from her face. "Oh, god, no, you wouldn't make me do...that. Would you? Please, please tell me you won't...."

"I'm pretty sure I will, actually, since whatever it is seems to be something that really has you running scared," I told her, with a wicked chuckle. "Out with it, Beth. What could I make you do, that has you this spooked?"

She stared at me, clearly mortified. "When I was about seven, I think," she related, resigned to her fate, "Mom took me with her to visit a friend, who had a little girl about my age. We played with her Barbie dolls. She had a lot more outfits for her doll than I did, and I was jealous-so I took a couple when she wasn't looking. I stole them."

"Ah, so this is how you fell into a life so full of sordid crime and debauchery," I quipped. "The die was cast early on, I see."

Beth smiled briefly at my teasing, and went on with her story. "Of course, it didn't take the adults very long to figure out what I did. One part of my punishment was no desserts for a week, and I was upset about that. But it was the other thing she forced me to do that ensured I never forgot the lesson. It was the most humiliating experience of my life-so far, anyway."

"Mom drove me back over to their house, and made me go up and knock on the door by myself, and go in alone and tell them what I did, return the stuff, and apologize. The lady already knew about it, naturally, but I didn't know that. They were really very nice about it, considering the circumstances, but I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. I was bawling so hard I could hardly talk."

"Sounds like some pretty tough love, alright," I offered.

"I guess it worked," she replied. "To this day, I don't even like to use self-checkout in the supermarket, in case I make a mistake and accidently do something that makes it look like I'm trying to rip them off."

"So, if it was me on the carpet over some stupid shit I should have known better than to pull," I suggested, "You'd expect me explain, and apologize, in person, to the people that I messed with?"

"Yes," she agreed reluctantly, well knowing she was sealing her own fate. "I would."

"Even if they would never know, otherwise?" I wondered.

"Yes," she repeated. "I kind of think the apology is more important to the...miscreant, than to the victim." I nodded in agreement.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, put it on speaker, and held it out to her. She regarded it with dread for a long moment, as if I were offering to hand her a snake, but finally took it from me hesitantly. "Must I...?" she asked, her eyes pleading me to excuse her.

"In person," I affirmed. "Tell her to come up alone."

Her shoulders slumping dejectedly, she placed the call. Anna picked up at once, and Beth asked her to come upstairs alone for a minute, telling her, "There's something I need to get off my chest."

"Um, OK, on my way, Aunt Beth," Anna replied, obviously perplexed.

Beth handed the phone back to me, and looked longingly over at her clothes piled on the chair against the wall. "Can I please...?" she began, anxiously.

"No," I told her, sternly. "Just as you are. You earned this humiliation; own it."

A moment later, Anna knocked, and I called to her, "Come on in, sweetheart."

I watched over my shoulder as she opened the door and walked in wearing her bikini wrap, saying, "Hey, guys, what did you want to...OH GOD!" She stopped short, her eyes bulging as she stared dumbfounded at Beth kneeling naked in front of me on the carpet.

"Come on in and close the door, baby," I told her calmly, and she did, slowly, still staring transfixed at the unexpected tableau that confronted her as she advanced into the room, until she stood just behind me. "Beth has something she needs to tell you."

"Why is she...why are you naked like that, Aunt Beth?" she asked, clearly not quite sure she really wanted to know the answer.

"Because I've been...doing something I am ashamed of," Beth told her, choosing her words carefully and deliberately. "John has...we have...decided that...this part of my penalty...should be as humiliating and...emotionally draining as we can make it, to...make sure I never want to think of doing that thing again, at least not the way I did it, ever-and I agree with him. I'm not doing it this way because I want to, but because I need to. It's the best way."

"W-what the hell did you do?" Anna asked, both fascinated and appalled. "Or don't I want to know?"

"When we talked the other day about...how I sent John down to join you in your bed, the night you arrived," Beth explained, her voice choked with remorse, tears now trailing down her flushed cheeks. "Sent him down to...fuck you. I led you to believe it was because I didn't want you to feel so alone, and wanted you-and John-to have fun. To help relieve your sexual tension. I let you think I was just, as John put it, sharing my good fortune with you, because you're family, and I love you."

She went on hastily, "And all those things are all totally true, but...they're not the whole truth. I had another motive for...wanting you and John to...to hook up-again-like that. A motive that...for me, was much more important....and personal."

"It was a bit more than a hookup," Anna observed, putting her hand affectionately on my shoulder and smiling at me. "But...what was your 'other' motive?"

Beth took a deep breath, and went on. "I have a little, or maybe not so little, thing that I get a big kick out of. Kind of a fetish, I guess you could say. It involves...arranging matters so that my lover can have affairs with other women. I really got off, just thinking about what the two of you were doing downstairs. I was still recovering from the yeast infection at the time, so I couldn't masturbate properly, of course, but I didn't need to do much more than just hump a pillow and rub my nipples hard, to give myself as many orgasms as I could stand, until I fell asleep, exhausted."

"I did the same thing with my husband, Jim, but at least he knew the real truth about what I was up to, and why. And I've done it before, with other men, other lovers. Some of them knew about my selfish little kink...and some didn't. I either lied outright to them about my real motives, or lied by omission, letting them assume whatever they liked."

"I've manipulated the lives of two people I love, for my own...sexual gratification...without telling them that was the main reason I did it," Beth continued, contritely. "I...I'm so sorry. I...didn't know how to tell you guys about this. I know you must think I'm some kind of freak, or something. Please forgive me!"

Anna stepped quickly around me to kneel beside Beth and embrace her, and Beth leaned sobbing into her arms. "Of course I forgive you, Aunt Beth," she said, her own voice choked with emotion. "Everyone has their own little dark secrets, idiosyncrasies and foibles they want to keep hidden. We were fooled about why you were OK with what Grandpa and I were doing, though I guess it really doesn't take much imagination to guess that you might be...getting turned on by it, too. But other than that, nobody got hurt.

"Aunt Beth, Grandpa forgave me for seducing him last year so I could get pregnant, so I don't feel like I really have any choice but to say that of course I forgive you for not telling us why you sent him to me-again-the other day."

Still sniffling, Beth looked at her hopefully, and said, "Do you really mean that, Anna?"

"Of course, I do," Anna replied. "We both do. Don't we, Grandpa?"

"Speak for yourself, kiddo," I told them, sternly. "If you want to let her skate on this, just tell you, 'Sorry, my bad,' and let it go at that, that's your business. But I have my own ideas about what should happen before I'm willing to believe she's learned her lesson. Her apology is important, but I don't think it's anywhere near sufficient."

Anna looked at me, not happy, but not surprised either. "Still the same tough old disciplinarian, eh, Grandpa," she accused me. "Look at her, see how miserable she is? Can't you give her a break?"

I told her patiently, "You ought to know quite well, from when you were a kid, living here with us to go to school, how I feel about giving breaks to anyone who breaks the rules. I don't appreciate being played for a fool that way, and you shouldn't either. Like I've told you many times before, sweetie: Actions..."

"...have consequences, yeah, yeah," Anna finished for me, exasperated. Turning back to Beth, she said, "OK, fine. I spent three school years living here with him, Aunt Beth, and he always gets like this when he thinks he's been crossed, and the only way to make him happy again is to agree to his stupid, off-the-wall punishments." She looked pointedly at me. "What are you going to do to her, anyway, Grandpa?"

"Haven't made up my mind yet," I replied. "I'm still working on it. I need something, or maybe several somethings, that will induce just the right mix of emotions in the perpetrator. Humiliation. Discomfort. Utterly undignified, and embarrassing. But besides that...something that appeals to her most basic instincts. Something she'll hate...but secretly crave, even while she's too ashamed to ever admit it, because deep down she knows it's all she deserves."

"Oh, God..." Beth whispered.

I went on, pretending I didn't give a damn about how badly Beth wanted this to be over and done with. Or...maybe I wasn't pretending; I wasn't really sure. "She gets off on imagining what her victims do with each other, and hearing them describe it after the fact. In exquisite, explicit detail. Don't you, Beth?"

"Yes," she admitted, shamefaced, eyes downcast. "God help me, yes, I do."

At that moment, inspiration struck me. "I wonder if maybe...it might get through to her, to have to witness her own handiwork...in person," I speculated, "By making her overdose on it. Rub her face in it until she chokes on it, and learns how important it is that everyone in her sexy little game needs to be working from the same playbook. How about it, Beth? Forget about having to imagine what your victims are doing, or having them tell you about it later. If that's all it takes for you to get aroused with your sexy little game, you won't mind if we take it to the next level, will you?"

At this point, both women were staring at me, aghast. I went on before either could object to the admittedly bizarre, or perhaps depraved, plan that I had conceived.

"You know that Anna learned how to take my cock-all seven inches of it-all the way down her throat, to deepthroat me, just like you do...and that she's very good at it, and really enjoyed it," I told them in a matter-of-fact tone. "Because I told you all about that myself. And I bet you two talked about it privately as well, didn't you? Answer me, Beth. Didn't you?"

Distraught, she could only nod her concurrence that it was true.

"You know I love you, and I love to do things to you in the bedroom that turn you on," I reminded her., and went on remorselessly, "And you love it when I do. If hearing about Anna sucking my cock turned you on that much, then watching her actually do it ought to send you to the moon and back. Right? You'd love to watch that, up close and personal, wouldn't you, Beth? Right here, right now?"

Anna was glaring at me angrily. Not, I was fairly sure, because she was much opposed to the idea of blowing me again, but mostly because I was using it to put pressure on Beth.

Beth was clearly horrified, shaking her head. "Please don't do this, John," she begged abjectly. "I'm sorry, so sorry, you shouldn't, not any more, please don't make her do this..."

"Anna's a big girl," I pointed out. "I can't make her do anything she doesn't want to do. How about it, Anna? Would you like to treat your horny old Grandpa to a big, sloppy, deepthroat blowjob, if you thought making Beth watch us would help her learn to behave, when it comes to playing puppet master with the sex lives of people she's supposed to love and care about?"

Anna stared at me, eyes wide, her breathing rapid and shallow. She gulped, and said, "If you really think it would help her...yes, I would, Grandpa."

"You know what to do, then, baby," I said, and stood up. She knee-walked over until she was directly in front of me.

Beth was beside herself with anxiety, flushed and sweating, tears streaming down her face. "Oh God, no, please don't...please..."

"Stay put, and be quiet. You sent me to her; you get off just thinking about what we were doing; you should be dying to watch us, and you will, hear me? Don't look away," I insisted to Beth, and then to Anna, "Let's go."

Anna reached out, reluctant but resolute, and slowly unzipped the fly of my shorts. Reaching through the flap, she pulled forth my half-erect cock, and began to leisurely stroke it. Beth, loathe to watch but unwilling to defy me by looking away, watched, stricken, as Anna's skilled attention quickly had my cock fully erect, the faintest gleam of precum glistening at the tip. Grasping the base of my now iron-hard dick, Anna leaned forward, tongue extended to eagerly lick it up.

But before her questing tongue could make contact with the tip of my penis, Beth lurched forward and doubled over with a groan, clapping her hand over her mouth. "Grab her!" I shouted, and Anna and I seized her, one on each side, and hustled her as quickly as we could into the bathroom and over to the toilet. She grabbed the bowl desperately, leaned over, and noisily lost her lunch, and maybe some of her breakfast too, retching and coughing miserably.