The Cheating Zone 13: Treatment

The Cheating Zone 13: Treatment

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All episodes of "The Cheating Zone" can be read as separate stories.

For the nit-pickers who want to say this or that would never happen, remember, this is the Cheating Zone, a place outside the normal space-time continuum where literally anything is possible...

Please remember, this is a work of fiction, meaning that it is not real in any way, shape, matter or form.

...

Your eyes flit from left to right as you drive down the tree-lined country road, looking for any signs of danger. You look ahead as the headlights pierce the inky blackness of night. There's a signpost up ahead. You've just entered... The Cheating Zone.

(Cue dramatic music.)

...

I made the last turn on my drive home and would soon be in the arms of my wife, Jenny. I had finished my job a day early and decided to come home to surprise her. She didn't know I had finished early -- I wanted it to be a surprise. My boss gave me the next couple days off as thanks for a job done early and within budget.

My name is Troy McGregor, and I've been married to the love of my life, Jenny, for seven years. We have no children, thanks to the fact that I'm sterile. From what the doctors said, I was born this way. Jenny knew about it when we got married, but she never complained. We had talked about adopting children, but that's as far as we ever got.

Things had been a little bit off between us lately, mostly due to my work schedule, which takes me out of town far too often. I work for a company managing networks and server infrastructure, and we have a lot of big clients all over the country. Lately, I've been out of town more than I've been home, and it's taking a real toll on our relationship.

I've been looking around for another job, but to be honest, no one offers the pay and benefits I have now, and on top of that, I'm the only breadwinner in the house. Jenny sometimes does volunteer work at the library or the local homeless shelter, but she doesn't have a job. I'm okay with that, and never pressed her to get a job.

When I got to my two-story house, I pulled into my driveway and closed the garage door behind me. It was still fairly early in the evening, so I thought I'd surprise Jenny with flowers and a night on the town. But it was me who got the surprise.

Talk about a fucking cliché. I walked into the house and noticed it was fairly quiet. I also noticed a strange jacket draped over my favorite recliner. I picket it up and rifled through the pockets but found nothing. Then I heard it -- the tell-tale sounds of sex coming from the master bedroom upstairs.

"Oh yes, Bill, fuck me with that giant thing," I heard Jenny moan.

"You like that, don't you," I heard a man's voice ask. I recognized the voice right away -- Bill Johnson, the lawyer who lived across the street. His wife died about a year and a half ago, and he had been to our place more than once for dinner. Jenny had invited him over on those days, saying she felt bad for him.

"Oh yeah, I love it," Jenny cried.

"Better than that wimpy little thing you call a husband?" he asked.

"Much better," she said with a giggle. I grabbed my pistol out of the gun case and was tempted to go upstairs, but I changed my mind. I had no desire to spend time in jail, and I figured they weren't worth the powder it would take to blow them both away. Maybe I should kick his ass, I thought, but I knew that he was more powerful than me, had a black belt in karate and would probably wipe the floor with me.

So I tossed the flowers in the garbage, grabbed a glass of Jack Daniels and sat down on the couch, putting the pistol on the coffee table. At some point, I figured, they would come downstairs. An hour later, they were still at it, so I pulled out my cell phone and called her number. I knew she always kept her phone on the stand next to the bed.

"Hello," she answered, sounding out of breath.

"Yeah, it's me," I said. "When you and Bill are through fucking, we need to talk."

"Huh?" she asked. "What are you talking about, sweetheart? I'm here by myself. Wait, where are you?"

"In the living room, slut, listening to you fuck our marriage away," I said.

"What?" she asked, surprised. "You're home? Right now?"

"Yes," I said. "Tell Bill to get his ass out of my house before I mistake him for a burglar and a rapist." I ended the call and listened. I heard a lot of frantic movement upstairs, then I heard them coming down. Bill came into the living room and smirked as he grabbed his jacket.

"Next time I come over, have something better to drink," he said as he put his jacket on.

"Next time you come over, I'll blow your ass out the fucking door," I said. He laughed and kissed Jenny. She kissed him back.

"See you later, sweet cheeks," he said.

"See you later, stud muffin," she said with a smile. I noticed his cum dripping down her leg. After he left, she started toward me but I stopped her.

"You should've told me you were on your way home," she said with an edge in her voice.

"How long has this shit been going on?" I asked.

"Well, now that you know, there's no sense in hiding anything from you," she said. "About a year now. He comes over and spends the night when you're out of town."

"And drinks my booze, and eats my food as well," I said.

"Yeah, well, you know I believe in being hospitable," she said. "Look, I know this looks bad, but it doesn't change the way I feel about you. I still love you, just not like I used to. You're a good provider and all, but I just gotta have his dick in me when you're not here. I can't help it."

"Well, this certainly changes the way I feel about you," I said. "I'll make an appointment to see a lawyer about a divorce tomorrow."

"Oh no you're not," she said. "Bill warned me that you might do that, and he promised to represent me if you do. He says that I'll get the house, half of your retirement, a good chunk of your paycheck and you'll have to pay the mortgage. In other words, you'll be living in a cardboard box while paying for me to keep fucking him. That is, if you're not in jail for child porn or something."

"You would do that to me?" I asked, shocked.

"Oh yes," she said. "Bill said he could find all kinds of things out about you. Maybe even make up stuff about you. Says he does it all the time."

"After all the years we've been together, you'd actually do that to me?" I asked, shocked. Who was this woman?

"I don't want to," she said. "But I'll do what I feel is necessary."

"Why, Jenny?" I asked. "Why are you doing this to me, to us?"

"I'm not doing anything," she said. "You're gone a lot, and I get lonely."

"Yeah, I'm gone making a living for us, and you're up there on your back with that asshole," I said. "Some wife you turned out to be."

"Well, since you know about Bill now, I'll be having him over more often," she said. I looked at her, shocked.

"You bring that asshole into my house again and so help me God, they'll carry you both out of here in body bags," I said, picking up my pistol. Her eyes grew wide.

"You'd kill us?" she asked, shocked.

"I came this close to it an hour or so ago," I said, holding my thumb and forefinger very close to each other. "Now get away from me. I came home early hoping to surprise you and take you out for a night on the town. I even bought you flowers."

"You did?" she asked. "Where are they?"

"I tossed them in the garbage," I said. "Right next to our marriage."

"Look, Troy, I'm sorry," she said. "Can't we get past this? Please? I promise I'll do better."

"Get away from me," I said. "Right now, you disgust me. You stand here with his cum dripping down your leg and expect me to just get over it? You're fucking delusional." I grabbed my bags and went upstairs. I glanced in the master bedroom and saw the mess they had made of the bed and smelled the odor of their coupling. No way was I ever sleeping in this room again, I thought.

I tossed my things in the guest suite and grabbed some clothes out of the closet. Jenny stood there, tears falling down her face.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"What does it look like, cunt?" I growled. "I'm moving into the guest room. There's no way I'm sleeping in that bed again, not after what you and Bill did. Where else did you two fuck?"

"Please, don't talk like that to me," she begged.

"I'll talk any goddamned way I want, cunt," I said. "Where else did the two of you fuck? Did you do it in the guest bedroom?"

"No," she said. "But we did use your office a couple times. And the kitchen table where you normally eat. And the couch."

"What about my recliner?" I asked. She looked down, and I had my answer. I put my things in the guest bedroom and went to my office, where I fired up my computer. After a search, I found names and numbers of several divorce lawyers. It was late afternoon, so I made some calls and got an appointment for the next morning.

Then I went into the front room and began carrying my recliner to the curb. After I dropped it off, I came back and started moving the couch. Fortunately, it broke into sections and I was able to wrestle it out. The dining room set was the next to go. When I had it all piled on the curb, I posted a sign that read: "Free Stuff. Help yourself."

"What will we use for furniture?" Jenny cried.

"Not my problem," I said. "But I'll be damned if I'm going to sit or eat where the two of you have fucked. Is there anything else that needs to go?" She shook her head, crying.

"No," she cried. "Please, don't do this. I love that furniture."

"Too fucking bad," I said.

"But where will we sit?" she asked. "Where will we eat?"

"Not my fucking problem anymore," I said. "You want furniture, get a job and buy your own goddamned furniture." I had a thought and pulled off my wedding ring. I tossed it to her. "While you're at it, sell that since it doesn't mean anything anymore."

"Why are you being so mean?" she cried as she held my ring.

"Are you out of your fucking mind, cunt?" I asked. "I come home to find you screwing our neighbor in our bed, and you expect me to just accept it after telling me you've been screwing him for a year while I'm out busting my ass to make a living for us?"

"But it's just sex," she whined. I had had it with her cliches and excuses.

"Get the fuck away from me," I growled. She backed off and ran back up the stairs, crying. So much for a nice evening out, I thought. I looked in the refrigerator and pulled out some cold chicken. I nuked it for a few seconds then sat on the floor and watched a bit of television. I didn't hear from Jenny for the rest of the night.

About 9:00, I decided to head upstairs to the guest room. I heard Jenny crying in the master bedroom, but I really didn't care how she felt. I got up early the next day and looked out the window. The stuff I had put on the curb was gone. I showered, shaved and dressed, then went downstairs, where Jenny was making breakfast.

"Good morning," she said, as if nothing happened the night before. "I've got coffee made and the eggs will be done soon. I don't know where we'll eat, though."

"Eat wherever you want," I told her. "I'm heading out. I don't know when I'll be back."

"But what about breakfast?" she asked. "You always eat breakfast."

"After last night, you think I trust you enough to eat your food?" I asked. Her eyes grew wide as I spoke. "You fucked where I eat and you fucked that asshole on my furniture. For all I know, you could be poisoning me and I'd never know it. No thanks. See you later. And remember what I told you." Tears fell down her face as I walked away, but I wasn't falling for it. To hell with her, I thought.

After a nice pancake breakfast at IHOP, I drove over to the offices of William P. Jacobs, Attorney at Law, and was ushered in to his office by an attractive redhead. William shook my hand and offered me a seat.

"So, what can we do for you today, Mr. McGregor?" he asked. He listened quietly as I told him my story. When I finished, he nodded his head.

"So, what are my options?" I asked.

"Well, unfortunately, in this state, you don't have many, and none of them are really much good," he said. "Your wife was essentially correct. You could sell the house but she'd get half of the proceeds. And yes, you will be required to pay spousal support for a few years, until she gets married. She'd also probably get half your retirement and the court could order you to keep her on your insurance until she gets coverage of her own. On top of that, it's possible the court may order you into counseling. As far as Mr. Johnson is concerned, there's not a whole lot we can do, unless of course, he does try to defame you in some way. If he does represent her, we can argue there's a conflict of interest, but I can't guarantee anything will come of it."

"What's my other option?" I asked. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Put up with it for now, hope that maybe she'll get it out of her system," he said. I shook my head.

"I can't do that," I said.

"I'm sorry to say, those are your options, Mr. McGregor," he said. Terrific, I thought. I could either go broke or put up with her making me a cuckold for the rest of my life. "So, what do you want me to do?" he asked. I thought for a few moments before answering. There had to be something else I could do.

"I'll get back to you," I said. He nodded his head.

"My door will always be open to you, and good luck, Mr. McGregor," he said. I headed out and thought about maybe seeing another lawyer for a second opinion, but changed my mind. Instead, I went to Harvey's Tavern, a bar I sometimes stopped at for a beer.

"A bit early for you, isn't it, Troy?" Harvey the bartender asked as he poured me a mug of beer.

"Yeah, I guess," I said, taking a long pull off my beer.

"Problems at home?" he asked.

"Yeah, you could say that," I told him.

"Wife cheating on ya?" Harvey asked. I looked at him.

"How do you know?" I asked him.

"You have the look," he said. "I've seen it a million times in here. Guy comes home from work, learns his wife is fucking around on him behind his back."

"Ever happen to you?" I asked. He nodded his head.

"Yep," he said.

"So, what did you do?" I asked.

"Well, I wasted a lot of time talking to lawyers who told me I was basically screwed," he said. "I was looking around on the Internet one day, and found someone who could help me, though. You interested?"

"It doesn't involve anything illegal, does it?" I asked. He laughed.

"No, nothing illegal," he said.

"Well, I guess," I said. He reached into his wallet and handed me a card. I looked it over and slid it into my pocket.

"Go by and see him tomorrow," Harvey said with a smile. "Tell him I sent ya." He went to another customer and I took a second look at the card. "Cheating spouse? No problem," it read. There was no phone number, but the two-tone card did have an address. I made a note of it and put it back in my pocket. After a second beer, I said my goodbyes.

"Remember," Harvey said. "Stop by and see him tomorrow morning."

"I will," I said. "Thanks." He waved as I headed out. On the way home, I stopped and bought a pizza loaded with meat, something Jenny hated. She preferred veggie pizzas, but I wasn't in any mood to accommodate her. When I got home, I plopped the pizza on the counter and grabbed a couple pieces before heading into my office. Jenny was sitting on the floor where the couch used to be, her legs crossed, watching me.

"Aren't you going to say something?" she asked. "Anything?"

"There's pizza on the counter," I told her as I closed and locked to door to my office.

"Troy, please, we need to talk," she said from the other side of the door.

"I have nothing to say to you," I told her in between bites of my pizza. I heard her sniffle before walking away. I watched a couple movies on Amazon as I finished the pizza. I noticed that Jenny didn't take any. Her loss, I thought to myself. This was good pizza. Eventually, I went upstairs to my bedroom, closed and locked the door just in case she tried to sneak in.

The next morning, I did my thing, then headed out. As before, Jenny was cooking breakfast, but I said nothing to her. Her face was downcast and I could see she had been crying. Too bad, I thought to myself. I found the small shop at the address listed on the card. It didn't look like much and I wondered if Harvey was just pulling my leg.

Walking inside, I was met by an older man who looked to be well into his seventies. He walked slowly, with the help of a cane. He came up to me and looked me over carefully before speaking.

"You Troy McGregor?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "Were you expecting me?"

"As a matter of fact, I was," he said. "Please, come into my office," he added, putting a sign on his door saying he was closed. I followed him to a back room filled with papers and books. He sat at his desk and brought up his computer.

"Harvey said you could help me," I told him. He looked at me before turning back to his computer.

"And I can," he said. "Your wife is cheating on you, right?"

"Yes," I said. "How do you know that?"

"You wouldn't be here if she wasn't," he said as he continued looking at his computer. I couldn't really argue with his logic, but I was still a bit concerned.

"So, how can you help me?" I asked.

"You've spoken to a lawyer, right?" he asked.

"Yes, I have," I said.

"And you learned that you really don't have many options, didn't you?" he asked.

"Pretty much," I said. "So, what can you do?"

"Your situation would seem to be suitable for the treatment," he said.

"Treatment?" I asked. "What do you mean?"

"I call it the 'Saddletramp Treatment,'" he told me. I looked at him, confused. "It's named after an online writer. You see, cheating spouses generally don't fare too well in his stories."

"Oh?" I asked. I don't spend much time reading stories on the Internet, so I hoped to glean whatever information I could from him.

"Yes," the old man said. "For example, one was fed to a giant shark. Another ended up at the bottom of a volcano, and two were nuked out of existence. One ended up at the bottom of a lake with her lover, and another died when her plane crashed into the Pacific Ocean."

"Well, I don't want anyone killed," I told him.

"Well, what do you want, young man?" he asked, looking at me with eyes of fire. "You want to go on being disrespected and cuckolded by your wife? Or would you prefer to be broke while paying for your wife to go on fucking her lover? Maybe you'd like to continue eating Bill Johnson's cum out of her pussy? Is that what you want?"

"No, of course not," I said. "Wait, has she actually done that to me?"

"You have no idea the nasty things she and her lover have done to you already," he said. "Even now, they're plotting ways to turn you into her willing cuckold."

"What?" I asked. "How do you know this? What are they plotting?"

"How I know is of no concern," he said. "Suffice it to say, it's my job to know. Just this morning, your wife bought a male chastity device, and her lover hacked into your computer. He's busy planting child pornography on it right now and they intend to blackmail you with it if you don't go along with their affair."

"No way," I exclaimed. He looked over his glasses at me and simply nodded his head.

"Oh yes," he said. "They plan on ambushing you later this evening. They've gotten some drugs to knock you out, and they plan on tying you down to a chair so you can watch them after they've knocked you out. Rather cliched, if you ask me -- no imagination whatsoever. Anyway, if you refuse to go along with their demands, Bill said he would call the police and report you for possession of child pornography."