Btb Forum: Founder’s Story

The concept of a BTB forum came as a result of all the research I did on Literotica on the cheating wives genre. Many inspirational stories and some that just made me go "wtf"?? I was looking for a story that would allow the construction of the idea of a forum and I happened across deepemerald's "My secret life" story. Though it wasn't fully a cheating wives story, the protagonist clearly cheated on her husband and probably had her lover's child. Her lack of remorse was what inspired this flash BTB story.

Welcome to BTB forum. If you're in this forum and reading this, chances are you're already a betrayed spouse or suspect that you're one or you're about to become one.

The modes of discovery are different. How each one of us reacts initially to the betrayal also differs but the emotions are largely similar. Getting screwed over is never pleasant and coping with the situation and even the aftermath is pretty much the same.

While I'm not into the new age psychobabble touchy-feely process of sharing and getting back in touch with Nature or our emotions, I know it's vital that the worst of our emotions are released in some way and that sharing stories are a way of moving on and getting over it. Betrayal is always a horrible experience and the scars never really go away, but never letting those scars heal and perhaps fade is letting the bastard/bitch continue hurting you. I should know, I did a BTB on my ex-wife and the bastard she cuckolded me with about 2 years ago. It took me almost 21 years of meticulous planning and while it was victory in the end, it was less satisfying than I thought it would be.

So in the spirit of the forum, here's my story.

I was never anyone remarkable. Everything about me was average. I considered myself fairly intelligent and destined to live life as an average middle class suburban man with a family and typical suburban life.

When I met my wife, Rosanna, or Rosy, as I liked to call her, she wasn't bowled over by me. I knew, I could tell that though she appeared to be the usual small town middle class daughter and teacher, there was something about her that hinted at sophistication and knowledge beyond her years and certainly beyond what her outward appearance suggested.

I knew she wasn't a virgin and I didn't expect her to be one. Who didn't have a past? We never talked about any of our past experiences or dating history and sexual history was strictly off limits. Though once we were committed and were fucking regularly, we did get tested first and were exclusive. Rosy was very skilful in bed and out of it, she never held back. And while I did wonder on occasion about how she got so good at various techniques and stuff, I knew better than to pry into her past.

Then we got married. It was all going as expected until I had to entertain a client on our wedding anniversary. Rosy wasn't happy about having to entertain on that evening. She was pregnant with our first child and found it awkward to be moving around and entertaining. When she met the client, there were a few seconds where a curious expression of shock and disbelief crossed her face before she put on a mask of polite interest. The client, Ray Tucker, had a similar moment of shock before it was quickly replaced by bland and humorous geniality. There was a predatory gleam of smug triumph in his eyes that didn't escape me. I knew instantly that Rosy and Ray were old acquaintances. Again, although it threw me a little, I wasn't going to let her past affect our marriage.

Besides, I had little idea what Ray was like at that point. He was merely a new and important client. I did notice however that Ray was having what he thought were discreet conversations during dinner with my heavily pregnant wife and Rosy was distracted for much of the dinner. Neither of them noticed my observation nor did they notice Mrs Pritchard's nosiness, Rosy's neighbour for that dinner, Mrs Pritchard's ears were constantly perked up for much of that dinner and even when we left the table and continued conversations elsewhere. Mrs Pritchard's excited pursing of her lips and the gleam of gossipy excitement in her eyes didn't escape my observation but it wasn't the best situation in which to act.

Rosy was distracted and subdued on the way home. Once we got home, she jumped on me like a hungry tigress. Evidently, the meeting triggered something other than mere fond memories of the past in my wife. I started getting a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

That feeling lingered for a few days before the bomb exploded. That bomb was one set off by Tom Pritchard, who was one of Ray's business associates and the husband of that Mrs Pritchard who obviously heard much of my wife's and Ray's conversation over dinner that night.

He had come over to our offices to discuss some details of the contract. I'd left them in the board room while I gathered the necessary documents and information. They were deep in conversation and I heard the last snippets of it just before I pushed the door open.

"...this poor husband has no idea what a slut he married.."

"..you're too new to have sampled her..."

"Ray was her long-time client and at one point she was living with him as his mistress.."

"he shared her.. hot stuff.. I had a little taste of her..."

The conversation or rather Tom Pritchard's speech came to an abrupt end as I pushed the door open. And we proceeded with business. I tried to push aside my growing suspicions and the churning feeling in my gut, this was after all business. I wasn't too worried about not having heard the rest of their conversation since unknown to our clients and most of the staff, my partner and I had installed voice-activated recorders in the boardroom for the purpose of ensuring that conditions discussed with clients would always be backed up by proof of those discussions. I was going to have the privilege of reviewing their conversation at my leisure.

What I heard on that recording was confirmation of my suspicions. Not only did Rosy know Ray, she knew him very well, surpassing even the biblical definition of knowing him. My Rosy was a stripper, a high class call girl and at one point live-in mistress of Ray. While that bit of history was upsetting enough, what made it worse was what Tom Pritchard laughingly told his colleague that his wife, Mrs Pritchard, had overheard. How Ray was turned on by my pregnant wife and was eager to resume their fucking relationship.

Rosy wasn't unaffected by his advances, I recalled her reaction that night when I heard this part of the recording. I remembered her insatiable horniness after the dinner. She'd used me in her fantasy of her former lover!

That infuriated and disgusted me. I may not be the best looking man around but next to Ray I was at least a Roman warrior next to his fat balding old Roman senator.

I was furious but could do little. There were practical considerations. I couldn't risk losing the contract but I didn't think I could live with being a cuckold-to-be. I did the only thing I could do. I removed the recording file and hired a PI to put investigate my wife and Ray. Above all, I wanted to know if she would take up with Ray again.

While her past was her past, her present was shared by us both and I didn't want to be a hapless, unwitting wife sharing cuckold.

The PI had little to report for the two months between the dinner and the birth of my son. Even then, Rosy sometimes seemed distracted and started using her computer a lot more. My paranoia increased and I began installing cameras and spyware around the house and on the computers, including my wife's phone and laptop which I bought as a present for her. Suddenly I found my minor in university very helpful. Most people didn't know I minored in computer science and with buddies who were now IT architects, I had plenty of resources to effectively spy on my wife electronically and remotely.

She never knew that I installed spyware on her phone and had access to her phone messages and her email and electronic accounts.

I discovered not only her secret journals, but also her secret accounts. I had married a rich ex call girl.

While the investigations turned up little for those months, I knew from her journal entries that she was occasionally nostalgic for her former secret life. When our first son was born, I was ecstatic and Rosy seemed happy like most new mothers. However, I noticed she seemed more enthusiastic about getting her figure back than she did about learning to become a new mom. This merely added to my suspicion that she would soon find a way to take up with Ray again. My paranoia was such that I not only continued the spying and investigation but also took a swab of my new son's DNA and sent it for testing. While the results confirmed he was my son and my fears were slightly mollified, Rosy's behaviour and journal entries were hardly reassuring.

Then the next bombshell came. Ray's invitation to his villa in the Grand Cayman came. I still couldn't afford to lose him as a client and I didn't want to betray my knowledge of their relationship in the past. In any case, the trip would prove a test for Rosy and her commitment to our relationship. Once and for all, it would either dismiss my concerns or it would prove my fears about Rosy. Hence, I accepted the invitation, much to the excitement and joy of Rosy though I suspected it was more than just the excitement over a trip.

In subtle ways, I let Rosy know that I felt strongly on the issue of infidelity. That while what happened before marriage was not of too much concern, infidelity in marriage would be something unforgivable and destructive. She did look at me with concern after the topic came up in conversation a couple of times before the Cayman trip but didn't ask me about it. I guess she had more important things on her mind and didn't want the spectre of fidelity or her marriage vows to linger over the trip.

While I knew I had to depend on my wife to safeguard the sanctity of our marriage on that trip, I wasn't so foolish as to keep myself in the dark as to her activities during the trip. In fact, Ray had asked for a contractor to carry out minor renovation work on his villa before the trip was to take place. I recommended a local contractor who we had used for other clients and even went over to oversee the process. As such, I knew the layout of the villa and was able to install some equipment that would be useful. No one except me and a part time hire knew that there was a special request for live feed cameras that were installed in all the bedrooms and even the entertainment areas and areas overlooking the pool.

Hence, while I feigned ignorance of their complicity in making me a cuckold and acting as the poor ignorant fool of a husband, they were giving me ammunition to be used against them in the future.

I wasn't surprised when Ray pulled out of the scuba diving session on the Cayman trip. I'd held out hope that with our son accompanying her, Rosy would give some thought to her marriage vows and reject Ray's advances. I know most of you readers would be snorting in disbelief but the hopes of a desperate husband still in love with the wife he hopes has put her sluttish past behind her are as such - stupid and delusional.

I didn't have to wait till I got back to the villa to an inexplicably exhausted wife to know that Ray and she had fucked their brains out. The sudden "mechanical fault" that developed after a call from Ray around mid-afternoon already confirmed my fears. The last nail in the coffin of my trust in Rosy probably came as I reviewed the recordings of that day when I was back at work, using the online storage facility which came with the satellite recording system that the cameras were on. That's the payoff of having been one of the nerd camp in university - access to resources and technology not widely accessible by the public. Of course, it meant some of my old pals might be able to view those recordings and data at some point but after seeing my wife in adulterous action, her reputation and privacy were the least of my concerns.

I watched with growing despair and fury as Ray took my wife to his bedroom which she was evidently familiar with and fucked her brains out. Heck, I even had his call for a "mechanical fault" recorded. What really infuriated me was the sight of my son nursing on the breasts and nipples that had been feasted upon by Ray just minutes before. Poor kid probably had to put up with Ray's stinky saliva and possibly lack of milk since Rosy evidently didn't put her son first. And I was furious also because she was willingly risking our son's health and wellbeing since we had no way of knowing what kind of diseases Ray had.

That became even more of a moot point since for their adulterous finale, Ray fucked Rosy bareback and obviously came in her. The frenzied fucking and orgasmic animalistic screams no longer affected me as the earlier part of the recording did, I was already numb. But their mutual delight in tasting their combined cum made me lose my lunch. I was glad however that I had the foresight to avoid having sex with my wife for the rest of the trip and for at least a week after the trip.

For all her stupidity, Rosy actually had herself tested when we came back from the trip. I guess no matter how much she liked Ray, such that she betrayed her marriage vows and me, she had enough street smarts to look out for herself.

While the rest of the surveillance footage proved innocuous, I had seen and obtained sufficient evidence for me to decide. I guess most BTB forum participants would ask why I didn't just blackmail Ray or sue him or why I didn't throw my cheating wife's ass out. I was actually planning to do both when Rosy announced she was pregnant. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Ray could very well be the father. Rosy herself was unsure and from what she had written in her journals, she was unabashedly thrilled that she had experienced all the dirty stuff she wanted and had no regrets over her earlier lifestyle or that adulterous fuckfest with Ray in the Grand Cayman. More importantly, she loved the baby, partly because there was a chance that it was an illegitimate bastard and another one of those dirty secrets she could keep and delight in in private. No, what would divorce really do? She'll get away with everything, leaving me the pain. And Ray would probably lose only a little money with little to no damage. No, what they had done to me could only be repaid with a carefully planned act of revenge that could rival the darkness of Jacobean tragedy. It had to fit my rage and sense of symmetric justice – they were going to pay and in a way that they would feel the greatest pain.

My second year university girlfriend majored in drama and was a fan of Jacobean tragedies, she'd dragged me to rehearsals and performances. At some point, her influence worked and I loved the wickedly brilliant schemes of Webster and Marlowe. I began to plot. I learnt from the masters of the genre that vengeance had to be appropriate and well planned to strike at the core of the fury that prompted the need for vengeance. They had betrayed me sexually, making me a cuckold and my loving wife was going to keep the living proof of that betrayal in front of me for at least the next 20 years. This might have driven a more sensitive or weaker man mad. For me, it made me coldly furious. That fury was what fuelled my professional ambition and the drive to accumulate the resources and wealth to wreak revenge. While I avoided further dealings with Ray, during the contract period, he had asked several favours of me company and I had access to his properties and offices as part of renovation work. While I had always handed over these projects to contractors, they were usually my close friends who owed me over the years. And as smart as Ray was, millionaire retailer and sexually voracious predator, he never did suspect the cuckold husband would be gaining access to his secrets or potentially damaging information.

To him, I was a loser. I was picking up his remnants for a wife and he had successfully cuckolded me with the willing cooperation of my loving wife. I was no threat. This non-threatening entity was however slowly gathering information on his business practices from questionable tax evasion tactics to money laundering and paying kickbacks. I resisted handing over the information to the authorities because that would be letting him off too easily. Besides, money could buy you the best lawyers and sometimes even the law itself. In any case, there wasn't a point alerting the enemy before the deadly blow is struck.

As for my wife, the PIs and surveillance turned up nothing after the trip. Her journals said as much, she had fucked out her obsession with Ray, who the journals revealed, had been the purchaser of her virginity and who had bewitched her with his huge cock. It was hard to tell on the recording but we were around the same size. Of course, that meant that Rosy could well have been using me as a fuck tool while she fantasized about Ray. That would have been a bitter thing to swallow, but she never slipped up during sex and her journals said nothing about fantasizing about Ray. If anything, she seemed glad that she was getting a huge cock without the fat slob of an older man that Ray was. Those were her words in her journals when she occasionally saw a picture of Ray in the news.

When her daughter was born, Rosy was more excited than the time she had our firstborn. I knew part of that came from the likelihood that she was hiding her bastard child and that it was a product of her adulterous affair with her obsession Ray. I knew she wasn't too worried that the child's appearance would give her away since Ray and I had much the same colouring. Thing was I was furious she had compared me to that fat slob. But thing was with babies, you can't exactly tell traits of a middle-aged fat slob. In any case, I put up the loving husband act and no one was the wiser. It was easy to pretend I loved the new kid even if it was a bastard. After all, she would be the centrepiece of my revenge against the bastard and bitch who created her. I'd obtained a DNA sample from baby Rayna (a name I suggested which earned me some curious looks from Rosy though she evidently quickly dismissed her concerns) in the same fashion as I did with my son. While the results didn't show who her father was, it was not me. Not that that surprised me. It only confirmed that my wife had made a real cuckold out of me.

The years passed and Rosy was a true suburban wife. She was still a hot mom, but strangely didn't stray. Neither did Ray make any effort to contact her. There were times when I wondered if I could just swallow her indiscretion and betrayal and move on with life. Yet, Rayna's very existence always brought the fury and the bitterness of betrayal to the surface.

Rayna, fortunately, was a pretty baby. As she grew older, she looked increasingly like her mother. Fortunately, she had a sweet nature and had little of the character of her mother, who I knew from the information gleaned from her journals, was a wild child from an early age. She was also close to me which surprised her mother, who had favoured her over our children and was a great sister particularly to our younger boys. Boys being boys naturally gravitated to daddy and we often went on adventure outdoor trips. I was always careful not to show it, but I was anxious to shield my children from the negative influence of Rosy. Particularly since I had tested and confirmed they were my kids. After the behaviour Rosy exhibited in the Cayman incident and knowing what I knew of her history, I could leave nothing to chance.

I was disgusted by Rosy's plans and intentions to introduce Rayna to the secret life she had pursued when she was in college, which were revealed in her journals. But hey, if the bitch wanted to further my plans for vengeance, who was I to protest? Besides, she was Ray and Rosy's kid, what Rosy wanted for her would merely be reinforcing the traits that were probably already her genetic inheritance.