Chat Records Ch 01

Author's note:

I'm not good at choosing categories, so, not to mislead:

This story is mainly based on femdom theme, involving male and female counterparts. Infidelity, F/m, F/f possibilities hang in the air.

I could have gone with LW, BDSM, MC but to stay on the safe side, I chose Fetish as the category.

It may go in any direction, with shorter follow up chapters.

It's a slow burn chapter, as usual. To me, it's hot.

The sex acts are mostly in the form of flashbacks, digitally shared content or imagination. In case this is not your cup of tea.

***********************

Olivia opened her eyes, the digital clock showed 2:42.

She turned her head to the empty pillow by her side. Marty wasn't in bed.

Many times, she not only warned but also threatened him not to spend time on his computer after midnight.

She knew he was looking at pictures and stuff there, if not watching porn.

Being the middle aged hottie she was, with everything about her in place and beautiful, she would never accept her husband to jerk off to some silicon titties. Even if she wasn't that enthusiastic to have sex with him that frequently lately. For usual reasons which comes from marriage, besides some other reasons she keeps to herself.

She was surprised to see this happening again. He wouldn't dare and cross her; it wasn't possible for him to ignore her warnings like that, especially in such matters.

She wasn't a shrew, not like one of those brimstone type women.

She wasn't a classic dominant woman as well, at least not in their sex life.

But she had her strict ways, where it mattered. She liked to make him feel he was living in the claws of a big cat. It was important for her to monitor and supervise his every activity. Again, where it mattered.

That was what she saw at home, growing up.

What to wear in special occasions, what to eat or not. Not very different from any woman in that area.

But his every mistake returned to him as a new set of improved control. When she caught him jerking off to a high picture quality, low artistic quality porn, which had a silicon breasted whore in it, he was treated like a dog in training.

She wasn't jealous; just, this sort of behavior wasn't acceptable.

She made him install the tracking software on his phone, she set his all passwords on his computer, bank account and phone.

She told him hers too; she believed that such stuff in a marriage had to be mutual. And, transparent.

Of course, Marty wouldn't have preferred it that way.

So, him being in front of the computer at this hour -to him, these were curfew hours as he kept joking about- was breach of rules.

More importantly, he was either losing his interest in her and en route to a mutiny or he was developing an addiction, if he hadn't already.

She sat in the bed, moving her feet down on the carpet, searching for her slippers, talking to herself.

A minute later, she was standing in front of their TV room, silently opening the door to peek inside.

She was prepared to make him jump, ready to shoot her regular rant phrases, to reprimand him instantly.

But the sight froze her.

Marty wasn't watching porn; he was reading some stuff on a dark screen. He was naked, with his sweatpants laid on the armchair he was sitting on. He probably did that not to smear his filthy secretions on the chair.

He wasn't jerking off, but his dick was looking at the ceiling, rock hard.

'I will cut off that tiny wiener of yours!' she was thinking, still trying to understand what was going on.

He wasn't even touching it. All he did was to type something every now and then. She recalled how long it took for her to get his cock ready the last time, giving head. And, without touching? Not even looking at pictures? She was perplexed trying to understand the situation.

His dick wasn't that tiny but he deserved to have it labeled like that.

Once, Anita showed her a porn video. Joking about the limp dick guy standing in the corner, saying 'Is that Marty standing over there?'

They both laughed for a minute before Olivia scolded her. It was pathetic; a hunk was making a woman scream in bed while that loser was watching them.

If he preferred those online chicks, she could do that too. And, his dick would only earn him one of those cuckold roles in that porn universe.

Anyway, it took a few minutes for her to realize he was on some sort of a chat site. One without those sluts on camera. Just chat.

Her eyes were locked on to his hardon, which looked too inviting. They didn't have sex for the last 10 days and her pussy was already getting wet, just looking at it. She almost forgot what an unacceptable situation that was.

Their sex life was going downhill lately.

In fact, except those last weeks, it wasn't changing much. Maybe getting a bit occasional.

Because?

Maybe 'not changing much' was an enough for a reason...

She always thought that she was the one who wanted something more. Knowing Marty's capabilities, she wasn't that optimistic.

She knew he wouldn't be that 'stud' in bed, ever. Knowing that, she still tried and created such opportunities before, to no avail.

She didn't dwell on it; she'd be fine if any changes happened. Anything he could pull off. To spice things up. But in that compartment he seemed too dull, so she didn't push it.

Thinking those, her concentration shifted back to the chat screen.

She wondered what was turning him on like that. Who that slut was and, more importantly, if she was someone he knew in real life. She would kill him if that was the case.

And, the whys and hows of him not touching himself.

He never skipped a chance to cum, in bed or in front of a computer. That wasn't the first time she caught him in that room at these hours.

She decided not to interfere. To see him go through with it to bust him in his most embarrassing moment. Just before he came, when he was rapidly jerking off like a moron, just like that last time.

A picture appeared on the screen. From that angle, she couldn't see clearly. It looked like legs.

Then, he stood up, pushed the chair back a bit and kneeled on the floor, hands still on the desk.

At first, Olivia wanted to hit him and scream, when she noticed his precum oozing down on her carpet. Like a dog, he was soiling her TV room!

But she forgot what she was thinking as he typed something, read stuff, bowed down on the floor and raised back up after a few seconds.

What was that?

Was he fooled by a sex related cult or something? Panic was taking over, watching him.

The dark screen became gray and he waited on his knees, looking at the screen. Olivia's eyes were wide open, waiting to see what he would do next, without blinking.

She understood that the chat session was over, the woman he was talking to had left already. And he was desperately looking at the screen as if he was hoping she would reconnect.

She didn't.

Olivia almost fell when she realized he stood up to put his briefs on, taking his sweatpants from the chair. She was about to get caught and she silently closed the door and moved back to bed.

He came to the bed in a few minutes, lied down and didn't move. He wasn't sleeping, she knew. He never slept silently. Even his breathing was like snoring, when he slept.

She didn't sleep either, not until she heard him snore.

It was interesting that he didn't jerk off. He slept with a boner.

She had to learn what was going on. This was more disturbing than anything he did before or anything she was trying to avoid in their marriage. She couldn't even start to put a meaning to the things she saw.

In the morning, she acted normal, getting angrier, seeing him act normal too. After such a night, seeing him indifferent was agitating her even more.

She had her own small business on interior design. She already felt as an accomplisher in her 34, with her business and marriage.

That morning, she didn't feel like that.

Leaving work early, she went home to see what that was about.

She turned the computer on, opened the browser history. No, nothing.

Not that he wiped his history, no. She could see he watched some stupid parody at night from YouTube.

There were only two browser apps on that computer and there was nothing to see there.

'Incognito mode' she thought. Deciding that he was being careful to hide his shit, she felt even more worried.

She called the computer guy who set up their office computers and small network.

Without disclosing the full details, she just told him that she wanted to make sure her husband didn't watch porn. She wasn't aware that even this was awkward.

But, to Tim, the computer guy, Olivia was the boss and he wouldn't have cared less about the bro-code in such a situation. He didn't know her husband, but he'd do anything Olivia told him; not just because she was a client, but she was too hot. For his age, that was the dream MILF. Without children. With those legs and breasts.

A decent, good looking business owner, who always wore decent but attractive clothes on her gorgeous body. Maybe she'd catch her hubby and use Tim as a punishment or break-up relief. In any way she wanted.

A young tech guy could only dream...

He arrived at her house, checked the computer and informed her before he started working.

"Without a keylogger, or some sort of a network sniffer we can't monitor his activities on those private browser modes. Most sites have secure connections, so, I suggest keylogger."

She was looking at him in discomfort. She was wondering if he was expecting her to make some decisions depending on the gibberish nonsense he was saying.

"Plus, I found a virtual machine software, which lets him use another virtual Windows installation on it. So, without logging into that virtual machine, we can't monitor what's going on there either."

He saw her void eyes, looking at him.

"In plain words, I will install a keylogger application, which also logs application startups. So, you can find where you want to review. Just check start alerts for the browsers or that virtual machine."

"Ok, do what you want, just give me directions to find and read the output. To bust his sorry ass! And, this time, explain in plain English."

He had trouble smiling; she was too hot, ordering around, with all her threatening mood. And the cleavage exposed in her shirt wasn't helping. Did she unbutton those top two buttons on purpose? Yeah, keep on dreaming tech kid...

"Yes, sure."

After half an hour, he started a private browser, entered an address, opened a site, wrote something to the search bar in that site and closed the browser.

He showed where the log files are, they opened the file and read its contents. He told her how to start the virtual machine too.

"Here, we can see when I opened the browser. This is the address I wrote. This is the search I made."

"But you clicked on some links, I can't see them here?"

"It doesn't work like that, sorry. But if you get the address, maybe you can see what he's doing. Or, if he enters his credentials, even better. Maybe his sites have his latest visited links. I don't know. You may need to move forward after each step, depends on what he does here."

'I know what he does!'

She didn't like this. She thanked him and sent him away.

She spent her next two days, trying to understand if he used the computer. Checked it every chance she got, until it was Saturday morning. When Marty was out with his friends, she opened the log file.

Tim was right. He used that virtual operating system thingy instead. Some smartass must have given him the idea.

She learned his password for that guest virtual Windows but no other credentials.

There were only a few lines of text that he wrote.

********

'Good evening, Madame Bathory'

Olivia stopped there thinking 'Bathory?'

She knew that name; she couldn't remember what that was.

'Yes, Madame.'

'I did, Madame.'

'Please, no.'

'Ok.'

'Sorry, Ok Madame.'

'I think it's inappropriate.'

'Some use it to show... Maybe she doesn't know.'

'No, Madame'

'No, Madame'

'Thank you, Madame.'

********

Olivia's eyes were red, realizing that he had an online mistress or having some sort of a role playing ongoing.

She never suspected him having such tendencies. She wasn't sure if she would want that. It was a change, wasn't it? No, she wasn't sure. Lowering her expectations from stud to doormat? Still could be better. She couldn't decide.

She needed to see what that woman was saying.

Tim told Olivia that, if he was using incognito mode, he had to type in username and password, besides the address, every time he wanted to connect. There were no credentials in the log file.

'So, no private mode...' she thought.

She opened the normal browser. Probably, since this was a virtual machine, the keylogger could not catch what applications he opened.

And, there it was. The only icon in his frequent sites shortcuts. AdultChatRealm. 'You stupid Marty!' she thought. That was unacceptable.

She opened it and it directly opened the profile page of Marty. Wait. No, not Marty. What the heck?

'olive' was his username.

She read the page. His gender was set as 'Female'. She couldn't breathe.

She'd wish he was cheating. Cheating in real life was better!

Was he talking to a man? Acting like a woman there, doing...

Doing what? Since when? And, he was talking to someone he called 'Madame'. She was too confused. Did he want to be a woman? She still couldn't wipe off the possibility that he was talking to a man.

Maybe this woman wasn't the only person he was talking to. Maybe he was talking to men too, this was an exception.

She felt her hair on the back of her neck, like in those fight or flight moments.

She was trying to assess her situation if that was true. For a second, she tried to convince herself that he was looking for bottoms and she could swallow that. She could live with that sort of a kink of his. Couldn't she?

Then, looking at the name he chose her scalp started burning. He wanted to be the bottom! Then she remembered the madame thing.

Her eyes searched for anything that resembled a link to chat history. She wasn't optimistic about that; who'd want their online conversations to be stored on a site? She smirked 'As if everything isn't being stored somewhere on the internet.' Anita told her that.

Then she saw it. 'Your chat history - stored on your local computer web storage, up to 5 MB.'

Her hand was shaking, when she moved the mouse pointer there.

This was the moment her marriage could end. If she saw him talking to a man, if he was doing faggotry there, that would be it. She didn't care if he was playing alpha or putting his ass on the market for alphas. Were tops alphas? She had no idea about that world.

The truth was about to come out.

She was still trying to rationalize his choices, pretending to be a woman in that virtual universe.

Maybe, this would make sense. It wasn't possible for him to stop desiring Olivia, unless he was looking for something different. She never totally neglected him; she always took good care of herself and remained desirable. She never complained about his quickies or mediocre sex capabilities.

'Fucking faggot!' she thought 'are you looking for cock?', still forgetting the 'Madame' part and clicked on the link.

There were a few usernames listed.

The newest one was at the top. 'Madame Bathory'.

She opened another tab at the browser and searched for this name. Oh, she remembered that. There was a movie she watched about this. Or, was it a documentary? That notorious serial killer Countess that lived in 1500s. Who had young girls kidnapped, tortured and killed, to bathe in their blood. Who'd pick a nickname like that?

What was Marty doing with such a woman? And couldn't he find another feminine nickname?

She clicked on the oldest link of a different user's name and started reading. Oh, there were two different names there.

Martini!

Obviously Marty. 'That's very creative, you moron...' she thought.

And, Cynthia, the woman he first had a chat with.

She read the conversation and it was obvious that Marty was trying to convince a woman for role playing. She accepted but he tried to go for the fucking instantly, as he always did in real life.

The woman cursed at him and left after writing 'You wasted my time, go jerk off alone you idiot!'

Yes, that was the Marty she knew. This oldest chat was of last month. So, he was new there.

She clicked on the others too; all were almost the same, only in one of them he managed to fuck the woman in that role playing.

Olivia read the conversation again and she almost became sure that the other person was a faggot or at least a curious sissy, imitating a woman. No woman would try to go for the fucking part that fast, without conversing enough.

On the other hand, she had no doubt that Marty thought he found the 'perfect woman'. She was smirking painfully, grinding her teeth, exhaling through her nose loudly.

This relieved her a bit but there was another problem now.

She wasn't sure what bothered her more.

Him, fooling around like that?

Or, having a husband that incompetent, who was having trouble finding women online, in a place where all women wanted go get cyber fucked? His idea of sex being that shallow?

She could have gone with Ted, who tore himself apart to date her when they were on a short break with Marty. That was her anger talking. Or her unfulfilled appetite.

And, finally, she clicked on that latest chat link. 'Madame Bathory my ass' she thought, picturing a chubby, hairy old woman.

There were many conversation links in that page. Starting from two or three weeks earlier. She clicked on the Madame's name and her profile popped up.

'Married, 40 year old selfish goddess. When I say 'selfish' I mean 'selfish'. Don't bother me if you're not a married, beautiful woman. And, no, beauty is not a subjective thing. If you're ugly, you're ugly. That's the prerequisite to be a candidate for pleasuring me.'

Her hair bulbs were burning, reading her smug words. He read those and asked to talk to her? He transformed into a woman for her approval?

And there was a profile image, not showing her face clearly but it was somehow beautiful. She was wearing daily housewife clothes, sitting on an armchair, dangling her slipper on her tan nyloned foot. Her crossed leg looked lean and she could see that she had a well-proportioned face, even if she couldn't make the details.

The relief she felt made her lean back and inhale loudly, after days of stress.

So, he was acting like a married woman, just to have a fantasy with that online dominant bitch. Sorry, 'selfish' bitch.

He was into women and what he was doing was way less disturbing, compared to the things came to her mind.

She went to the kitchen, made herself coffee and returned to read all of it.

Not like she was planning to have a quality, naughty weekend fun reading it. Just to decide what she was going to do to Marty. He was going to pay for that. She just wanted to learn it all, before deciding on his sentence.

As she kept reading, her anger was replaced by her worries.

o - 'Hi. When I stumbled upon your profile, I mean, for the last week I kept visiting your profile. Something got me stuck on that. I guess your profile picture or what you said there got me curious. Don't get me wrong, I just couldn't help but write to you.'

MB- 'I'm guessing that you feel like you are eligible to write to me. Tell me about your husband first. And yourself.'

Olivia was grinding her teeth when she was reading his answers. He was telling her that her husband had an athletic body, with a never ending appetite and stamina for 'olive'. Olive was only grateful for a husband like that.