Thomas Kruger clicked on the link.
It was another spam email, just like all the other spam emails he had received. Usually he deleted them out of hand, except this time he clicked on the link.
It was different from all the other emails he had received. This was no ad for male enhancement, free porn, or requests for bank info from rich Nigerians. It didn’t have the traditional fifty exclamation points, random capitalizations, or rampant misspellings. It was in fact a very dry letter and seemed genuinely earnest. So Thomas had clicked the link.
“Is your wife not fulfilling her potential?” That was the title of the email. It had intrigued Thomas. He read on. The message detailed a long list of possible grievances with wifely behavior. Thomas felt they all applied to him. Sure, he was being denied his full amount of sexual activity as the years had gone past. Sure, Mrs. Kruger had a nasty habit of talking too much and usurping his authority as head of the household. Sure, she had been letting her body go to waste. Sure, she didn’t cook well enough. Sure, she wasn’t subservient enough. Sure, she didn’t fully know her place. The indignity built up and he clicked the link.
He was taken to another screen, a registered website. It hadn’t asked him for his credit card information. There weren’t any of those virus thingies bringing down his computer. All that was there in fact was a confirmation link, asking if he really wanted to know the secret to making his wife act properly, to making her subservient. He paused for a second and for a second his soul may have been spared. Instead he clicked the second link.
This link led to a letter and a questionnaire. The letter talked of the injustice he suffered as an impotent master denied the love and devotion promised in the vows. There were biblical passages, famous quotes, and such beautiful rhetoric. If Thomas had been smarter, he might have notice that his feelings were being honed, that old prejudices and black truths were being dredged from his psyche. However, if he had been really smart, he wouldn’t have clicked the links.
After the letter, he was livid. He wore the pants of the relationship and yet he always seemed to have to “yes, dear” to Mrs. Kruger’s insane requests for conversation, for money, for unspoken love. He could have been more of a playboy, could have stayed a bachelor, could have been unfaithful with his secretary. His eyes twitched with a mania he had not suspected he possessed. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. He was going to answer the questionnaire. He was going to be honest. He was going to take control. Thomas was playing to the link now.
He answered the questionnaire with astonishing honesty. He revealed how his wife’s formerly prom queen beauty had degenerated with the birth of his two young children. How she now had a small paunch. How her long blonde hair was showing wisps of grey. How her large breasts had begun to droop. How her sexual appetite and willingness to explore had faded with familiarity and routine. How she wouldn’t obey him unconditionally. How she disagreed with his opinions on current events. How she did not acquiesce to his every command. How she laughed at him when he acted like she should. How she read those little books that he suspected contained feminist propaganda and tactics to cuckold him. How she used his money for her pleasures and whims. He revealed it all on the site to strangers. He clicked the send link and sealed his fate.
#
Meanwhile in Southern California the creator of the site, shuffled some papers. He loved his job. He never understood why people always seemed dumb enough to click on his unsecure links.
“We got a live one, sir,” a tweedy intern spoke from the logs.
“What’s his level,” the creator asked calmly.
“Looks like a ten, sir. Traditional moronic closet-sexist who feels his ex-prom queen wife isn’t as doting as June Cleaver.”
The creator smiled. He loved how the intern phrased it. It was amazing how men were so willing to express their dark sides on the web. A strong anti-porn crusader always seemed to have a few bestiality sites hidden in the backwaters of his bookmarks. In his case, he trolled for the hidden misogyny and betrayal, buried by family men who at all other times played the loving spouse. He made a hobby out of revealing and exploiting them. That hobby was the site.
“Is she still a looker?”
“From his description, she’s seems like she’s in good shape.”
“I want a picture. Can you read his hard drive?”
“Are you kidding,” the intern laughed. “With the spyware program and backdoor virus generator I wrote into the site and the luddite’s crap security, I could fucking write on his hard drive.”
“Good. Check to see if he keeps a photo of her on there.”
The creator waited with his hands folded in front of him as the intern tapped frantically on the keyboard. The intern was a simple 18-year-old geek. One of those young guns who believed that to make it big they needed to be a super hacker and instant message in l33t. However, unlike most of his clique, he was actual good at it and didn’t have the self-destructive tendency to go over-the-top. Why hack secure areas or send system-destroying emails when hacking and infesting the personal computers of idiots was so much easier and profitable. The creator was lucky to of found him and to train him to use his skills in a way much more evil and profitable than mere theft or spying.
“Finished sir,” the intern muttered grabbing the printout and walking it over to him.
The creator grinned like a jackal. Mrs. Kruger was a knockout. According to Thomas, she was in her early 40s, but looking at the picture the creator wouldn’t have guessed she was over 30. Her hair was a long blonde hair. The supposed grey hair phenomenon seemed to completely absent or at least couldn’t be discerned in a photo. The legs were well toned and were quite long though the creator supposed the stiletto heels were exaggerating them. The stomach that Thomas had described as a paunch seemed to actual err on the thin side of healthy. He could see her ribs for goodness sakes.
He could see a lot more than that too. The intern had found a nearly nude picture of Mrs. Kruger. She was dressed in a see-through nightie and seemed to be posing embarrassedly for her husband. Her breasts as well as he could make them out through the thin material were indeed beginning to sag lightly, but were still full, healthy, and natural and showed no vein marks or other signs of aging. It was the type of woman that the creator would have given his left testicle to share a bed with every morning. Thomas Kruger was such a fool to follow those links.
“You have a fix on his home address, yet?”
“Yeah, he posted it on an unsecure site.”
The creator smiled again. It was a great trick. Don’t ask for any personal information so the prey doesn’t get wary and then check their traffic and see if they were trusting on other sites. It took awhile, but usually the same person willing to click on a spam link was also likely to leave personal information on the most easily accessed sites. Ah, what a medium. So much damage could be done behind the interface and links without the user every realizing something’s amiss.
“I believe Mr. Kruger is ready to partake in our free complimentary course at a verifiable real business location to learn the secrets of asserting a male’s proper authority,” the creator intoned in a properly sarcastic tone of voice while putting on his leather jacket.
The intern giggled and followed him out. When his boss got sarcastic, it meant that they were going to have quite a bit of fun.
#
