Cheating Wives Always Get Caught Ftds

The best laid plans, and all that crap - my ending to edrider73's story Cheating Wives Always Slip Up

http://www.literotica.com/s/cheating-wives-always-slip-up

edrider73 is a master storyteller. There's no denying it. Nobody currently writing on Lit has the same ability to drive a reader absolutely crazy. He'll make you want to scream at the screen, or cringe and turn away. The volume of his comments is a testimony to his ability.

Cheating Wives Always Slip Up is another one of those. At the end, you wonder just how overboard a spouse can go with revenge, and still claim to love someone. At least it makes me wonder, and when I wonder, I write.

Thanks to edrider73, for generously providing permission to work with his stories.

I like finishing stories. I guess I'm a little weird. Sometimes they are stories that have been abandoned. Others are open invitations. In a case like this, the author is still active, but I felt the urge to write my own completion, and have received permission to do so from the Author.

When offered the opportunity, I'll give you my idea of an ending. Fair warning though, I don't write about total wimps. May not be BTB, all nuclear and shit, but no voluntary cucks, or whiny simpering wimps.

Some of you won't like my endings. That's fair enough. I'm happy to hear your reasons. This is only one author's idea of a fitting resolution. You're welcome to try your hand at writing your own. I hope you enjoy this one.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"Is it my turn to talk yet? You've run on at the mouth for ten minutes now, without giving me a single chance to respond. You restrained me in my own bed, through trickery and deceit. You've already struck me three times, without my permission. You promised me nothing would be non-consensual or reluctant, that you wouldn't try to get me to do anything I didn't want to, and that you'd stop if I showed any reluctance, and yes you lied. Repeatedly. You do that a lot. You've proven yourself to be a psychotic, evil bitch, and if you want to walk out go right ahead. I'll see you in court, or you can listen to the truth."

She was fuming. "That's not the deal. You know what you've got coming. You need to lay down on that bed and receive your punishment. Only then will I allow you to tell me your

story

."

"Fine. Pack your shit and leave. I'll see you in court."

That was the last thing she'd expected. She thought for sure he'd go along with her plan. He had cheated, and she damn well knew it. He deserved everything he had coming. Maureen glared at him, trying to figure out if he was bluffing. It sure as hell didn't look like it.

She was taking too long to make up her mind, and he stood up. "More lies, I guess. As if your lying should come as a surprise at this point. You said you'd leave if I so chose. I did. Now get your ass out of this house. I'll even get your suitcase out of the garage."

Shit. He was ruining everything. "I'll listen. I doubt you'll be able to say anything that will convince me that what I've learned is false, but it's true, I've had the floor all this time, so you should have a chance to speak. It's only fair that you should know, you're only making this worse for yourself."

He sat back down and grimaced as his lacerated ass hit the bed. "Before we speak, we need to balance things here. To be totally fair, which you seem to find so important, I need to give you three strokes of the cane. Before you get indignant and claim that your 'consultant', your dominatrix, already gave you one, let me start by saying I don't believe you. You've already proven yourself a liar, repeatedly, and I think this is just another one. Luckily for you, because if she did, if you laid down with another woman, naked, and let her punish you, you've already confessed cheating on me, and we're wasting our time. If you weren't naked with her, then you've hardly felt what you did to me, and even if, heaven forbid, you did receive one stroke, I received three.

"Furthermore, let me make one thing perfectly clear. If you don't go along with this, I'll call the police, and have you locked up and get a restraining order for unlawful restraint and domestic abuse. This is not an idle threat, and I believe the evidence speaks for itself. So what will it be Maureen? Are you a cheater? Will you accept three strokes of the cane? I will only accept one of two answers, yes or no. If yes, I will restrain you as you did me, and we will begin. If the answer is no, I will dial 911 now, and you can start packing."

He took his phone in hand, and started the recording function. He was not going to let her turn the tables on him. He would get her assent recorded before he touched her.

She looked nervous, as her carefully made plans slowly fell apart. "One stroke," she said.

"Now you're simply being ridiculous. You gave me three. You say it was by accident, because you were nervous, but you don't swing a rattan cane with all your might by accident. Did you or did you not tie me down without my consent and hit me three times, purposely targeting my asshole and balls, until I passed out?"

She responded quickly. "I already explained that Herb. You needed to understand the severity of your punishment so you could make an informed decision."

"So if I decided to walk, I got three strokes for nothing? Because you wanted to?"

"I was convinced you'd do the right thing for us, for our marriage, for the children we'll have. That was the only reason."

"Fair enough, although I'm certain you're lying to me. Again, will you take three strokes, Maureen, for the same reasons? For that, and for restraining me, lying to me, and giving me three without my permission?"

Once again she was silent. "Two strokes, and not between my legs. I've already had that done to me."

"I don't believe you. I've seen no evidence in the last few weeks of the pain you'd be in if that had happened to you. If you did cheat on me, lying naked with a strange woman, a dominatrix by your own admission, and if she did hit you with the cane, I don't believe she did it as hard as you did just now. I'd have seen evidence of it."

"She was counseling me. I didn't cheat with her. I will not accept that definition."

Herb stood. "Alright, you said she counseled you to help you understand how I'd feel if you cheated. Let's say I went to a dominatrix. I got naked, and let her abuse my body, would you be happy with that situation? Or would you consider that cheating? You told me that you'd give me nothing but the truth when this started. You've already lied to me numerous times. No more lies. How would you feel if I did that?"

There was no denying it. If he had done such a thing, she would have been livid. "I would have been extremely angry with you, but it's not the same. I didn't do it with a man, I did it with a woman. She was a professional."

"A professional therapist? A degreed psychologist, or social worker?" he asked.

"No, a professional dominatrix, I explained that."

"A dominatrix. A sex professional. And women only cheat with men, that's what you're saying? Having a sexual relationship with another woman wouldn't be cheating? If I had a relationship with a man, I wouldn't be a cheater?"

"Of course that's not what I'm saying! You're trying to twist my words and get out of the fact that you've cheated on me!"

Herb held his hand up, stopping her. "That's not what we're discussing yet. We'll get to your accusations soon enough, if you agree to start out on the same even basis. I won't even hold your confessed cheating against you, yet. Will you accept three strokes of the cane, just as you gave them to me? Or do you leave and start the divorce proceedings, after I call 911 and report your abuse?"

"Fine!" she finally screamed. "I'll take three, and only three! But you're going to regret those. When I finish with you, you'll be sorry you pulled this shit."

"So you agree. I will restrain you only until I've finished delivering three strokes of the cane. Afterward, we'll be even, and I will have my say, before anything else happens. Agreed?"

"Agreed," she said, trying to maintain her temper, and ignore the fear welling up inside her at the idea of three strokes of the painful cane.

Herb put his phone down, and just as she had done, he put the wrist restraints on her that were already attached to the headboard. He positioned the pillow under her waist, raising her up. Then, he used the restraints at the bottom of the bed, to spread her legs and hold her in place. The sound of the heavy Velcro coming apart and resealing had her trembling. He didn't want her movements to interfere with his aim, so he opened her legs as wide as possible, leaving no slack in the ropes.

He then picked up the canes, swishing them through the air. "I'm going to go to the other room and practice a bit. It would be a shame if my aim was as bad as yours."

For several minutes Maureen laid there, her stomach in knots, the sweat already breaking out on her forehead. She knew fear as she never had before. The pain of the one stroke she'd received previously had been unthinkable, and if she was honest with herself, she suspected the dominatrix had not hit her as hard as she could have. Herb was a man, larger and stronger, and could undoubtedly hit her much more powerfully. Perhaps not as accurately, as expertly, but with a lot more raw strength.

The sound of the cane in the far room impacting against the mattress, she assumed, almost had her changing her mind. She should never have agreed, but then again, she

had

struck him three times after lying about what she was going to do. If they were going to get past this, she needed him to understand and accept his punishment. The one thing keeping her going was knowing that if he was too rough with her, she'd make sure she paid him back tenfold.

The sound in the other room stopped, and she started trembling. She heard his footsteps approaching, and he was standing there beside the bed. "I'm getting better. I'm going to take a minute to apply some salve to my aching ass and balls, and get a drink of water."

The anticipation was killing her. She heard him moving around, and then leaving the room again. Several minutes later she heard the pounding of the canes as he practiced. "Shit!" she heard him growl. He stuck his head in the door and laughed. "Well, now I know how hard I can use one before it breaks. I'll just be a little longer."

Break? He broke one? Surely he wouldn't hit

her

hard enough to break one. Damn, that would be trouble. If it broke, would it splinter? Would the rattan be driven into her skin? How badly would that hurt? In all her practice she hadn't managed to come close to breaking one.

She thought she heard him talking on the phone for a while. She even smelled cooking. She wished he would just get on with it, the waiting was driving her crazy. She had to pee. Finally she heard his footsteps, but they stopped and again there was the sound of practicing. Damn, him! How much practice did he need for three strokes?

She started to worry about how hard she had hit him. His comment about the aching in his ass and balls wasn't good. Would that lingering pain drive him to punish her worse, hit her harder than he might have otherwise? She had felt good, vindicated, watching him writhe and pass out from the punishment he so amply deserved, but now it just made her stomach ache.

The sound stopped and the house was quiet for a few moments before she heard him enter the room. He didn't say anything and abruptly there was a flash of light, and the tell-tale sound. "What did you do?" she cried out.

"Before and after pictures to remember this day by," he laughed, and the flash went off again.

"Don't. Please. I don't want that."

"Alright. No more pictures. I wouldn't want to do anything without your consent. I'm not like you. Are you ready?"

She had a difficult time answering. She couldn't force her mouth to say the words.

"It's going to happen Maureen. You've already given me your permission, and I'm not allowing you to take it back. I just want to make sure you're prepared, mentally. This is going to hurt a lot. Trust me, I know. It will probably be the most painful thing you'll ever experience until the second one. Are you ready?"

She still couldn't say the words. She looked back at him anxiously, noting the glistening of his skin where he'd worked up a sweat, and nodded once before turning her head away.

She heard it before she felt it. The whistling advertised the blow moments before it occurred. The pain was beyond anything she could ever imagine, so much worse than the one practice blow she'd received from Monique, and that had been horrible. It felt like he'd taken a knife and cut her open from her lower back all the way down to her clit, stabbing it into her as he passed her anus, and again when he encountered her pussy.

Her scream was deafening, and her body drove into the bed, trying to escape the vicious weapon. She bit her lip so hard she started bleeding, and then the horror of the aftereffect set in, if anything more painful, a burning that wouldn't stop. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't even scream. She tried, her mouth was open but nothing would come out. For several long seconds she fought her restraints, until her body's defense mechanism took over and she shut down.

Herb was surprised at her reaction, even after his own experience. Yes, he had hit her extremely hard, perhaps not with his full strength, but he wasn't easy on her. She had looked like he'd stuck an electrode in her at both ends, the way her body tensed and shook, before the screaming stopped and she'd passed out. She had also lost control of her bladder. It had been ugly. The large dark welt already appearing was scary looking, starting a couple of inches above her ass cleft, and disappearing between her cheeks.

He was starting to reconsider his plan to deliver all three strokes to the same place. Her reaction frightened him.

Unlike his experience, she didn't respond right away. It was several minutes before she moaned. He'd even checked on her to make sure she was still breathing. Then he heard the crying. He leaned over to see her face, while she hiccupped mid-sob. "No more," she whispered, looking up at him pleadingly. "Please."

Her pain squeezed his heart, but he knew he needed to be firm. She had started them down this insane path and he was going to make sure it ended.

"No more? But you gave me three, and planned on continuing it for at least an hour, maybe two, I believe you said. Were you going to stop after the first one? Or were you going to get your jollies torturing me?"

"Please," she sobbed, her nose running, saliva dripping from her lips. "I can't. I . . . I think you injured me. I need to go to the hospital."

"Jeez, Maureen, don't be a wimp! I barely hit you. I didn't even use half my strength. I'm saving that for the last one. I wouldn't want to break

all

the canes before we even start our discussion."

She lowered her head to the pillow, and cried, her whole body shuddering.

"I can't believe you pissed yourself. I'll tell you what, my dear loving wife, I'll let you rest a while before the next one. I don't think you'll fully enjoy it, the way you are now."

She nodded. "Thank you. Will you undo me, please?"

"No, I can't do that. I'm sorry. We have an agreement, that I would restrain you until you received your three blows. If I freed you, I'm afraid you'd renege on our deal, no matter what you said. You do have a history of lying. I will loosen the straps for you, and undo one of your legs." He did as he said he would, while she cried into the pillow. Then he left her there. He hadn't made it to the end of the hall before she'd cried herself to sleep.

~ * ~ * ~

When Maureen woke, she knew she was in trouble. The pain between her legs was as bad is if it had just happened, throbbing in agony. She groaned, and opened her eyes. He was there, watching her, relaxed, sitting back in a chair, sipping on a beer.

"You're back with us. That's good."

"Please, baby. I . . . I made a mistake. I can't take two more."

He took another long slow sip, and she finally smelled the stench of lying in her own urine.

"I had a talk with Monique," he said.

Monique. Her consultant. The woman whose idea this was. "How . . ."

"Your phone. You called her a lot in the last few weeks. Four times yesterday."

She nodded dumbly.

"I was worried. You were out for several minutes, after only one stroke. Then you slept for over four hours. She says it's nothing to worry about, that kind of reaction isn't unusual for a first time. She did confess that the one time she struck you, she hadn't been very hard."

"I . . . I didn't know. I thought she was."

"Now, now, my love. Remember your promise, no more lies. She also told me how she applied the lotion to you, to help with the pain. You didn't mention that part, did you, honey? How she rubbed her fingers down your ass and on your pussy."

Maureen turned bright red as she remembered.

Please God,

she thought,

don't let her have told him everything.

"Yes, honey, she told me. Told me what the best way to take the pain away was. How I had to gently rub your pussy, and get you excited, so the pain mixed with the pleasure. How important it was to make sure you had a nice orgasm. Like the one she gave you."

"I . . . I didn't want that," Maureen said. "I didn't ask for it. I couldn't stop her, I was tied down. I couldn't even think through the pain."

"Shhh, my sweet. We'll talk about your cheating later. Afterward."

"Please, Herb. Please, I'm begging you. No more. I . . . I can't. I just can't."

"Oh, you can, my love. You can, and you will. I think I've given you a long enough break. Monique is a little pissed at me. She said it's best to do them all at once, and not to stretch it out. I should have given you the next two as soon as you were conscious." He stood, and her heart stopped as she saw him pick up the cane.

"No, I can't, I really can't!" she cried out, trying to turn away. She realized that while she was sleeping he'd tightened her restraints and she could barely move. "No! Please, Herb! If you love me at all if you ever loved me—"

She started screaming as soon as she heard the whistle of the cane. The pain was unbearable, as impossible as it was, even worse than the first one. She screamed continuously, until her throat was hoarse, straining against the restraints so hard that Herb heard a crack in the wood. Then her body slumped down, lifeless, unmoving.

He stepped forward and checked her breathing, checked her pulse. Still strong. Then he inspected his work. A second bullseye, all of his practice paying off. That cane was ruined. He couldn't have hit her any harder if he tried. His arm hurt, as if he'd thrown it out. Looking down at her he saw the second welt, and noticed he'd been a bit off target. The start of the welt was almost an inch to the side of the first one, but they got closer as they moved down her pale skin, appearing to cross just below her puckered, bruised anus. He was amused at how it had clenched and opened immediately after the blow. The first stroke had left a bruise down one side of her puffy pussy lips. This one looked like it had ridden right down the middle. He realized that the first stroke had been just a hair off center, but the second one, that was a thing of beauty. He could see blood seeping through the skin in several places.

He sighed, and started to work the sheets out from under her. It didn't wake her. He checked again and she was still breathing, if shallowly. With the sheets and the mattress cover removed, he got a towel and tried to soak up any remaining urine from between her legs. He sprayed the mattress, and placed a couple of folded towels underneath her, in case she had another accident. Monique had mentioned the possibility of releasing her bowels.