Betrayal free porn video

Betrayal by Janet Baker Sandra and I were engaged in our second hour of fucking when a flash of light startled us. She was sitting astride me, my cock deep in her vagina; she preferred that position to being underneath me; she also liked being taken from behind, standing, bent over, holding her ankles or bent over a sofa with me holding her arms for leverage while I thrust with passion and vigor. Sandra had come on to me that afternoon, I was flattered and I willingly succumbed to her and we screwed happily since I thought my wife was out for the afternoon.; the flash disabused me out of that reverie. Melissa, my wife, screamed, "you son of a bitch, you dirty bastard, you freaking fucking cheating piece of shit!!" The flash went on and on as more pictures were taken of us as we scrambled to cover ourselves with bedclothes as my wife continued to scream, hurling every colorful epithet she could think up. Oddly enough, I never knew my wife had ever heard the things she was screaming at me. "You, Sandra, my best friend, how could you do this to me? You dirty bitch, get the hell out of my house!! Never come back!! I'll see you in court, you fucking husband stealer!" "I don't want him Missy, I just wanted to fuck him. I'm so sorry, Missy, I just got carried away." "Get the fuck out!!" "Melissa, darling, I'm so sorry..." "Don't talk to me, you bastard!!" she cried, wailed really, then ran to the bathroom, locked the door, and continued to wail, scream, and cry bitterly. Sandra dressed quickly and left. I didn't know what to do, what to think. Missy was still in the bathroom screaming. Sometimes when disaster occurs we do odd things. I stripped the sheets off the bed and took them to the laundry and ran the washer, wondering what I could do to save my marriage, if indeed it could be salvaged. I started dinner. Missy was still weeping, now in our bedroom. I called to her, "Honey, I'm starting dinner." Truly odd, our responses to stress. She answered, "Who gives a fuck?" I kept quiet. Dinner was quiet and strained, very strained. I tried to make conversation with her without success. After a while she said, "I'll see an attorney tomorrow." "Please Missy, don't do anything for a few days, let me explain, perhaps..." "Perhaps nothing, you cheated on me with my best friend, what do you expect me to do? Smile and go on as if nothing ever happened? My God John, what you did was unforgivable; the worst thing possible. And in our own bed." Earlier today when this affair started, I'd been minding my own business, actually doing vacuuming in the living room when the doorbell rang. It was Sandra. "Hi, Sandy, come on in. I thought you and Missy were going shopping together. That's what she told me, at least. Did I misunderstand?" "I don't know where she is, Johnny. We weren't scheduled for shopping today. I think she went by herself." "That's odd, I thought you and she shopped pretty regularly." "True, Johnny, we do shop together, just not today." A terrible thought struck me, I have no idea why. "I'd hate to think that she's cheating on me," I said. "I have been faithful to her." "Oh no John, impossible, Missy would never cheat on you, I know her very well." She opened her arms and held me to reassure me. Held me very tightly, so tightly that I began to respond with a modest tumescence (erection, son). I responded with a kiss, and a kiss and a kiss, and then a pelvic grind leading naturally to the comforting and joyful fucking which led to our afternoon denouement. We men are so fucking stupid at times, it's amazing that the species survives. It must be obvious to any reader that I had been set up. There was no way that this woman would waltz in on her own and then happen to fuck me. Did my wife always travel with a loaded camera??? However, to continue. Missy told me to sleep in the guest bedroom until she decided what would become of our marriage. I begged, pleaded with her to at least let me try to explain. I recounted the Sandy story. Missy told me that from time to time she did shop with Sandra but not always, and I must have been confused, and no, there was no way in hell that she'd betrayed me with any other men. "Sandra simply wanted to fuck you and maybe break up our marriage and you, ol' stiff prick, got sucked in, no pun intended. So...here you were with that treasonous bitch fucking away when I was out of the house! What in the hell do you think I should do???" "Missy, I am so sorry, it will never happen again, I promise. I don't want you to leave me, I love you. I didn't intend for it to happen, I didn't start it, she came on to me and I was too weak and too dumb to refuse her advances. However, it was as flattering as all get out to be wanted by someone as cute and hot as your erstwhile friend." "That's no excuse you shithead. I don't want to discuss it any further. I will think about it. In the meantime, shut up!!" "Yes dear." It isn't often I have the last word. *********************** The next morning we went to see an attorney. She -- was I dumb? -- told us that my action was inexcusable, but that in this state we had to see a marriage counselor prior to any settlement. She told us to settle down and rationally discuss the problem and its underlying causes, if any, and try to achieve an agreement. She also noted that if we went to court we would have to get separate attorneys, and she outlined her fees. The attorney fees alone are a deterrent to divorce. In court every little transgression would be blown up into major proportions and we would be disgraced. She urged us to try to settle peaceably. At home, I tried to apologize again and was rebuffed. She simply told me to wait until she had decided what to do. She was humiliated beyond belief, she said, and retribution, if there was any, would be severe; punishment and humiliation would be the order of the day, and night, and day and night. The days wore on wearyingly. I tried to be agreeable, docile, cooperative, helpful. I offered to help with the shopping. She barked at me, "Why do you suddenly want to help with the shopping? Don't you trust me? That's a laugh! Who can't trust who while I am out of the house?" ******************************* A week later, after much hostile silence, she spoke. "I'll lay it out for you. If you want to stay with me, you will have to accept humiliation just as you humiliated me by sleeping with Sandra. You will continue to sleep in the guest room and you will wear some kind of chastity belt so I can be assured that you aren't cheating on me. You will share the housework, and by God, you will dress like a housemaid and you will be seen by our friends as my maid!! They already know about your transgression, so that will be your punishment." I replied, slowly, contritely, "Missy, what I have done could have destroyed our marriage but what you are proposing could also terminate our marriage. What you are suggesting..." She interrupted, saying, "I am not suggesting, Johnnnn, I am stating - I am demanding that you comply." I shrugged my acceptance, defeated. I felt I had no choice, but I was hurt beyond imagination, so I did ask, "Missy, how long do you think it would take for us to resume cordial relations and our marriage? How long must I wear this chastity thing you are proposing?" She replied harshly, "as long as I damn well please!" I wanted to ask if we would have any sex but I was afraid to, knowing that Missy was in a horrible mood. I felt that I should accept my punishment and hope for the best. I shuddered, thinking about what her conditions would mean to me. The chastity thing was particularly frightening, but if cleaning house and dressing like a maid would satisfy her and renew our marriage, I could bear the humiliation. I would have to. I loved her. I had failed her but I really loved her and did not want to lose her. Next morning, not a work day, Missy woke me and told me to get dressed, that we were going shopping. I dressed, quietly, asking no questions (safer that way) and we got into the car and she drove off to a mall. She parked and said, "We are going into Victoria's Secret for some lingerie and some other things." I toddled along behind her and we entered VC. A sales girl approached and asked if she could help. Missy said, "yes, my husband is being punished for a transgression -- measure him please for bras and garter belts and pajamas." I shrank with embarrassment, face reddened, I kept silent. The sales associate measured me, and my wife bought a couple of bra, panty and garter belt sets and two pairs of pretty feminine pajamas. Then numerous pairs of stockings and pantyhose and some other garments I did not even recognize. She asked if they had any breast forms. Receiving a negative reply, we left and went into a wig store where again she humiliated me the same way, buying two wigs for me. Similarly at a shoe shop she had me try on and buy a few pairs of heels. Then we left and returned home. On the way, she was silent, obviously thinking about what to do next to me. Yes. At home, she said, "Sit. Here are your instructions. Henceforth until I acquire new clothing and some other things I have in mind, you will continue to go to work wearing normal men's clothing. At home you will wear women's things only! You will wear the few things we bought. Yes, you will wear panties, bra, stockings, garter belt, wig and heels. Shortly, the other garments and accessories I have ordered will arrive and you will wear them." I put the damn things on, I hated it; I had no choice. Fortunately she made me wear them only at home, I was still able to go to work in normal men's clothes. At home I looked like an idiot, dressed only in lingerie, wig and heels. Happily the heels were not too high. A week later, parcels began to arrive at our house. I was instructed not to touch them and I didn't. Missy opened them and put the contents away, somewhere. I didn't dare look, I didn't want to make things worse. "All right", she announced, "Your maid's uniforms have arrived and from now on, at home, you will wear one of them. The breast forms have arrived also along with some bullet (pointed) bras and now you will dress completely as a maid. I expect that your very high heeled shoes will be shipped shortly. When they arrive, you will wear them. I am still waiting for your chastity cage and I have ordered some accessories that will aid humiliating you just as you humiliated me by sleeping with my former friend Sandra. A few days later more parcels were delivered. Missy opened them and shrieked with joy saying, "Now damn you I'm ready." "What do you mean, Missy?" I asked with some trepidation. "What I mean is, your shoe locks have arrived, your chastity cage, handcuffs and leg irons, a couple of gags, and a few other things. Oh yes, some porn disks for me to learn new ways to punish you. Take the leg irons and lock them to the eyebolt I had you install in my bedroom. Bring the shoe locks to me; I want to lock on your heels so you can't slip them off for relief. After you've done that, strip off your panties and I will put on your chastity cage." "No Missy, I don't want that damn thing put on me, it's not necessary, not fair...." "Fair? You bastard!! You'll do as I say or there will be a divorce and you know I have all those pictures of you and Sandy in the throes of passion, fucking away in our bed." I caved in, went into 'her' bedroom and locked the leg irons to the eyebolt I'd been forced to install up near the ceiling. I called her in, "Missy, I did it. Now what?" "Take your panties off. Put your wrists up in the leg irons. I had you lock the leg irons there, not the handcuffs, since I want you to be able to cuff yourself in place." I did. Reluctantly. I was afraid of her, really. "Why do I have to cuff myself? What did I do now?" "I want you cuffed while I put this chastity cage on you; I want you to feel the humiliation of cuffing yourself for your wife, the humiliation of making yourself helpless for the one you betrayed." Outside, lightning flashed and thunder crashed, an ominous portent to my future. So I stood there, in locked-on heels, bra, stockings, garter belt, and wig while she fixed the damned chastity cage on me. It took a while. She seemed to enjoy my discomfort while she learned how to tightly and correctly install the damn thing on me. "Missy", I asked, "How to I pee if I can't touch my penis?" "Stupid, you sit, like a woman, how else?" I noticed that she kept all the keys on a chain around her neck. A chilling foreboding swept over me from my head to my feet. When she satisfied herself that the chastity could not be removed without the key, she released my wrists from the leg irons. "OK, now put your panties back on and put on your red maid's dress. You'll wear the red one today. Tomorrow the black one, then the blue, then repeat unless I direct you otherwise. H'm, I think I will order petticoats and cute little white ruffled panties to go with the dresses. I think I'll order a few of the more abbreviated maid costumes for special occasions. Yeah, that will be so cute when you are serving at my monthly bridge club in a brief and scanty maid costume." "Oh, come on Missy, you're going too far, are you sure you don't simply want a divorce?" "I am still thinking about it. I'll let you know but in the meantime you do as you are told. I have the photos and now I have the key to your cage, your own private, personal little chastity cage. You're not going to betray me with any woman now are you?" "No, I'm not, and I promise I won't ever again. But has it occurred to you that your so-called best friend enticed your husband into our bed?" "Yes, the possibility of enticement did occur to me, but that does not excuse your compliant lustful stupidity. You men are all alike, allowing your pricks to think for you." ********************* The bridge club met on the third Saturday of the month. Missy hosted a four table duplicate bridge tournament with the results going into the ACBL for tabulation. I was never a partner, but I was responsible for direction and score entering, and of course setting up and tearing down, and snacks and drinks. So they all knew me ... as a man ... as Missy's husband. "Melissa, your club meets tomorrow. How are you going to handle it with me not present?" "Oh no, brother, you will be present. You'll carry on as you always do and you will be dressed as my maid" "No! no! no! Missy, that is too much, much too much!" "Yes! Yes! Yes! John, who has the key?" Who indeed. "I'll do it", I replied, reluctantly, wondering how to get out of this mess. Saturday arrived. I dressed as demanded in the black maid dress. Not a dress really, a costume. I was costumed, made to look ridiculous. I wore the petticoats underneath the dress, making it stand out. If I bent over, my ruffled panties would show. I had to wear the new black four inch heels. I put the shoe locks on, and she checked whether they were tight enough to prevent me from removing my shoes. Thigh high stockings with a seam, traditional maid's wear supposedly. And a wig and cute little maid's white cap, and oh yes, a little white apron. I was furious, but fucked. Walking in these higher heels was tricky but I helped her set up the bridge tables and get organized for the game. We prepared the canap?s and drinks and laid out the bidding boxes, cards, boards, score sheets, and pencils for all four tables. At one o'clock the ladies arrived. It was bad enough to be seen by the ladies but happily there were no men in the group. I was embarrassed enough as it was. As they started to arrive I was instructed to answer the door, take coats, and greet the ladies by name (I knew them all). I was so ashamed. There was a lot of discussion amongst the women, mostly quiet but animated. Looks were tossed my way but only one lady asked me why I was dressed, or rather costumed in this manner. I told her that she should ask Melissa. When they were all seated, the lady, Gloria, piped up and said, "Melissa, we are all wondering why John is dressed like that." My wife replied, "He has committed a major transgression and this is part of his punishment." Gloria pressed on. "Well Missy, what could he have possibly done to deserve that?" Missy looked at me. "Well Johnnnn, tell them, or should I?" "Ha h'm, Well ladies....it's this way...." "Come, come now Johnnnnn, don't be bashful, tell the ladies the whole story." "As I started to say, ladies, it happened this way. Her former friend came into our house and seduced me and yes, I will admit to being compliant, easy, too easy. I was flattered that a pretty lady would find me desirable and yes, we did end up in bed and yes, we were making love. In fact, we were having a great time making love, lots. But there is more to the story." "That's all John, there is nothing more to say..." "I would like to finish...." "Shut up John, no more, no more needs to be said. The girls understand how you betrayed me." The games went on without incident; I was called only twice as the director to settle disagreements, but there were many looks aimed at me, and finally Gloria piped up again, asking, "John, finish the story please." Missy interrupted, "No, John." Gloria chimed in again, "Missy, I want to hear the rest of the story. I can do it here or later. John, continue." "There is little to add except that when Missy found us, she happened to have a camera with her and quickly took many pictures, screamed to high heaven and threw Sandy out of the house. I really don't know why she wouldn't want me to tell you the rest of the story except that I am being punished for my transgression." Gloria continued, "Dressing up like that can't be too bad. How long does she intend to keep you that way?" "I answered, "You'll have to ask Missy." "Missy?" "I haven't decided. Gloria, in addition to the maid's dress, he also has to wear a chastity cage for which I keep the key." "Oh my God Melissa, you didn't have to tell her that." "Tough." The games ended, Missy and I started to clean up, and Gloria helped us. Once when Missy ran up to the bathroom, Gloria whispered to me, "John, call me sometime. Something is not quite right here. I heard something some time ago and I want to check on it. Just continue on as normal, saying nothing about our chat." "Thanks, I will.", I answered quietly, wondering what Gloria was up to. Missy returned and we finished cleaning up. Gloria was about to leave when Missy yelled at me, "What were you two talking about? You both had guilty looks when I returned." "She was offering her condolences for the situation I had gotten myself into, that's all." "I don't believe you", she yelled. "Ask her if you don't believe me." "Yes Missy, I was just offering condolences," Gloria assured her. And she left. Missy mulled that for a few seconds, then announced that she was headed for the gym. "OK, but Missy, its Sunday, your usual days are Monday and Thursday. But fine, OK, I'll wait. Any idea when you'll return? I could have dinner ready for you." "I'll return when I feel like it", she responded nastily. "In the meantime, come with me, I have something for you to wear." I followed her to her bedroom. She said, "Put your wrists in the cuffs." She meant the leg irons hanging on the wall. I did. She took handcuffs and put them on my ankles so I could not walk, then took another pair of leg irons out of her valise and released my wrists one by one, refastening them behind my back with the new irons. I was essentially immobilized, a prisoner. I could hop or drag myself along the floor but little else. She helped me to her chair, turned on the TV, handed me the remote, and told me to entertain myself until she returned. I did so, having no choice. I waited for three hours, becoming increasingly concerned about her. Finally I laboriously dragged myself down to the living room and tried to dial the gym, but before I could complete the dialing, she walked in the door. I said, "Oh thank goodness. I was so worried about you. You must have had a good session, you're all sweated. Shall I bathe you?" She looked at me with disdain, said, "no I'll shower, come along, get my peignoir ready for me and some panties. I'll let you dry me off." "Undo my ankles please, I can't walk. I had to hop and drag myself down here to get to the phone." "Who were you phoning?" "I was trying to call the gym to see if you were OK." "I was fine, don't ever try to check up on me again", she retorted. So saying, she undid my restraints and went upstairs to take a shower. I followed to help her get ready for bed. She undressed with me watching, my penis trying to become erect but unable because of the cage. She dropped her soaked panties on the floor, told me to pick them up and put them in the hamper, and then to turn on the shower for her. Her panties were quite soaked, I thought I detected an unfamiliar odor but I tossed them into the hamper and then wondered why she did not want me to worry; or want me to call the gym to see if she is OK. The unthinkable thought struck me; she may be cheating on me. I tried to call Gloria at work the next day but I could not reach her. ***************** A week later more parcels arrived. She came home late, having spent time at the hardware store buying numerous locks and several lengths of chain. I shivered, knowing that they were for me. She did not even attempt to conceal her acquisitions. Monday was one of her exercise days. She came home early to dress for the gym, and ordered me to her bedroom. I was dressed in a very brief maid costume. She had me take off the four inch heels and put on a new pair of five inch heels she had just received, and of course she locked them on as before with the special shoe locks. "Stand at the wall, John, and put your hands in the cuffs." She put handcuffs on my ankles as previously, immobilizing me, leaving me standing against the wall in those very high heels. "I'll be back after gym, John. Don't go anywhere." "Missy, you can't leave me here like this. Suppose there is an emergency. Suppose I have to go potty?" "Hold it!" "Please!" "Good bye, don't screw any of my girl friends", she laughed as she left. I stood, in absolute misery for almost three hours, arms above my head, feet in pain from the new heels, wondering when she would return. I wondered why this level of incarceration was necessary. After all, I had the cage on, I couldn't masturbate, I certainly couldn't have sex with anyone. Was she trying to keep me from following her or checking on her? H'm. Chained here, I could not call anyone and certainly could not leave the house to follow her. She returned safely a good three hours after she left, sweated through, hair disheveled. "Thank God, you're safe, I was so worried." "I'm going to shower, don't go away, darling." How could I, handcuffed to the wall? She showered, then released me from the wall and took off the cuffs on my ankles. I quickly ran to the bathroom and relieved myself. I looked in the hamper for her underclothes. Her panties were there, soaked as before-I sniffed them-the odor was again strange. This was, to say the least, very disquieting. I was beginning to strongly suspect a dalliance (polite way of suggesting that she was out fucking around). On Thursday night she went to the gym from work, calling me on arrival. She told me to go to her bedroom and cuff myself to the wall. I didn't do so, figuring that she would have no way to check on me until she came home. She fooled me. She must have been nearby, because she came rushing into the house and found me still in the living room watching the TV. Screaming epithets at me, she grabbed my chastity cage and literally dragged me to the bedroom wall, where she cuffed my wrists to the leg irons. "You deceitful, useless bastard, I can't even trust you out of my sight." "Missy, you called only a few minutes ago, I was going to do it as soon as I made a bathroom visit." "Yeah, and pigs fly; stay there until I return." As before, three hours later, she came home sweaty and disheveled. She showered, dressed for bed and then uncuffed me from the wall. I was in absolute misery, having stood there cuffed for fully three hours. I should not have let her do it, I was thinking. I am stronger, I should have fought -- I guess I am still feeling guilty. But I did have the presence of mind to check the hamper and yes her panties were soaked. I became convinced that she was cheating on me. *********************** The days wore on. Every night after work I had to change into some maid's costume or other with heels and suitable lingerie, and wig of course. She would check me on arrival, and go out to the gym as usual on Mondays and Thursdays, leaving me immobilized in one way or another. I was still suffering that damned chastity cage. And yes, whenever I had a chance I checked her panties and they were invariably soaked. Tonight, a Wednesday, she had me chain myself in front of her, a game of self bondage, she said. I sat on a chair in the living room and under her instruction I cuffed my ankles with leg irons, put a chain around my waist, locked it, dropped one end to my leg iron chain, the other up to a steel collar, my symbolic bondage collar which I wore now as the symbol of my obeisance to her. I locked the chain to my collar and locked a pair of leg irons to the waist chain behind my back. Above my knees I looped a chain around my thighs and locked it onto the chain that dropped from my waist to my leg irons. She made me lock a gag, a blowup gag, around my head, thus preventing me from speaking or even crying out. The final indignity was my cuffing my hands behind my back into the second pair of leg irons. She carefully placed all the keys on an a chain around her neck as a trophy necklace and smiled lecherously at me with her typical evil grin. After satisfying herself I was securely chained, she announced that she had to out tonight on business. She did have to meet with executives and clients from time to time, so I was not surprised. What did surprise me was the extent of my bondage. I sat there in the living room while she dressed for the evening. I was shocked when she appeared, ready to leave. She was dressed elegantly, too elegantly for a business meeting. Gagged, I could only look. She grinned at me and did a turn showing me how beautifully attired she was, with a diamond necklace and other things all accenting her little black velvet halter dress, ankle length. I could not speak or even smile at her. I nodded my head in approval, a kind of consent, and she smiled and left. What else could I do? But I was now convinced of her infidelity-- business meetings don't require that mode of dress. Four hours later she had not yet returned, I managed to hobble to the bathroom and use it, and then managed to get to my bed and sleep. I had no idea when she arrived, home -- I slept through her arrival. In the morning I awoke, struggled off the bed and over to her bedroom, and woke her by dropping my head on her. She got up, slowly, yawned, stretched, went to the bathroom, and finally recognized my presence even though she knew I was standing there in her bedroom chained hand and foot, waiting for release. She unlocked all my locks. I was so relieved. I asked her where she was last evening and was the meeting productive. I was still maintaining the fiction that I believed her, although by now I was convinced that she was cheating on me and that I was being made to stay at home so she could safely enjoy her affairs. She responded that it was none of my business, and by the way, I am entertaining two couples tonight for dinner and of course you will serve. "Who are they, Missy?" I asked. "Executives from my company." "Do they know of my situation." "I don't think so. You will dress a little differently tonight, I have something new for you to wear." "OK, I'll be home from work at four, I can dress and start dinner." "No, call in sick today. I will help you dress at noon. You will understand later." So at noon I was ready for her, dressed partly. She took me to the bedroom wall, cuffed me, and removed my chastity cage. Then horror of horrors, she unwrapped a new chastity affair consisting of a steel belt, a penis tube, and a butt plug. I tried to resist her putting it on me but with my hands cuffed my resistance was short lived and the butt plug was thrust, without lube, up into my rectum. My penis was then put down into the tube and the belt was locked quite securely around my waist. She walked off to hide the keys, returned, uncuffed me, and helped me to a chair. She then made me put on a pair of ballet boots, knee length. I laced them up and she locked a steel cuff on each ankle so I could not remove the boots. They were almost impossible to walk in and I complained bitterly. She told me to shut up and start practicing walking or I would be serving on my knees, and if I didn't like it I would be cuffed to the wall all night and possibly even thrashed. She showed me a dog whip she had recently purchased. The guests arrived. I was dressed in my black maid costume, complete, with also a steel bondage collar letting the guests know my status in the household. I was shamed beyond belief but I served correctly, taking very short steps in my ballet boots. The guests were really appalled, I think, and I don't think that this display did Missy any good at work, but that would be her problem. Of course she explained as before that this display was my punishment for betraying her with another woman. The next work day I tried again to call Gloria-I wanted to share my concerns, suspicions and ask her what she had in mind. Unfortunately there was not answer; I tried repeatedly that afternoon without success. Late in the day however, Gloria returned my call. I was at my desk when Gloria called. She asked to meet me the next day at a nearby diner on my lunchtime. We met and she confided that she had suspicions that Missy was cheating on me, had set me up, and was being cruel either to get me to leave or simply to be nasty. She was not sure of Missy's motivation. She emphasized that hers were only suspicions, that I would have to investigate further. She urged me to see a lawyer and recommended an attorney she knew and trusted, an attorney who was also a divorce specialist. *************************** I made an appointment with the attorney for the following week. Meanwhile, I continued to do Missy's bidding. I was chained to something or other on Mondays and Thursdays so I could neither leave the house or make any phone calls. I continued to make notes, keep a diary, and bide my time. Irrespective of the outcome, regardless of Missy's guilt or innocence, I was determined to bring an end to this outrageous treatment. What she was doing to me was far beyond my transgression, my one disastrous afternoon fuck with Sandra and by now I was sure she was fucking around. The Sunday for the bridge club rolled around and Missy told me to help setup and then serve. She had new ideas for my dress. Instead of a full maid's dress I was to wear a skimpy revealing costume and the accursed ballet boots. This time she locked leg irons on my ankles, humiliating me more than usual. She laughed while I tried to walk in the boots with the chain between them. I looked awkward and really pathetic. I waited at the door, welcomed her guests, served, loaded data for the ACBL score keeping and the helped clean up. Gloria winked at me, but Missy kept an eye on me throughout, so I could not communicate with any of her guests. They were impressed at my ability to walk on my tiptoes. Gloria said at one point, "You really look hot dressed like that, John, you might make a convincing woman." "Gee thanks, Gloria, that's all I need." After her guests had left, Missy took me to her bedroom, cuffed my wrists close to my steel collar and took off my chastity belt, removing the butt plug. What a relief! Sadly though, my relief was short, because she put on a strap-on dildo, bent me over the bed, lubed my anus, lubed the dildo, and without any further ado, rammed it home, laughing while I screamed with pain. The only pleasure derived from this exercise was hers in hurting me, humiliating me. **************** I took some time off from work and visited the attorney. I outlined my experience, leaving out nothing, no matter how embarrassing. His opinion was that I could easily prevail in a fault divorce action, since the punishment exceeded the crime. Further, he suggested that I employ a private investigator to follow my wife. He suggested that I continue accepting abuse, documenting it until the investigator completed his work. Shortly thereafter I discussed the problem with the attorney's recommended investigator. I filled him in on my wife's place of employment and what I knew about her activities. Subsequently he came to my home, set up a phone tap, and gave me a cell phone to use on his billing so my wife could not trace any of my calls. She had been careful to keep me from using our phones while at home. He wanted me to call whenever she left home for an evening. Better yet, to call when she was preparing to leave so he could be sure to follow her. He also gave me a device to track her car, which I was to install whenever I had a chance. He told me to carry on as though nothing had changed so she would not become suspicious and alter her activities. If she had a concealed life, we did not want to interrupt those activities. At home Tuesday night, I'd dressed as usual, made dinner, and cleaned up. Missy told me she wanted to remove my chastity so I could masturbate and relieve the terrible pressure from non-use. She took me to her bedroom, chained my collar to the wall ring, and removed the chastity cage. Unfortunately, the chain prevented me from reaching my hidden cell phone. I sat there watching Missy dress to go out. "Missy, I appreciate being allowed to masturbate but you didn't tell me you were going out." "Why should I?" "I know you're still angry, but we are still married and I care for you and worry about you when you're out in the evening." "Don't worry." She dressed as I watched her. She put on a black satin bustier type sheath, slit to the thigh, a diamond necklace, elbow length gloves, and a diamond bracelet (which, by the way, I did not buy for her nor recognize). Her hair and nails had been done. She wore her ultra sexy very high black satin sandals. I complimented her on her looks, and told her to have a good time. She thanked me and told me she was going out with some girls. I believed that like I believed that pigs fly. I needed no more proof of her treachery but I would wait for the investigator's reports before taking any action. She left with me tethered to the wall ring. Fortunately, the investigator had started to work and saw her leave the house. He followed her to another address, where she picked up an unknown woman, also very well dressed. The two drove to a bar in the city where they entered, took a table and ordered drinks. The investigator, being older and not wanting to be identified, called in a younger associate who ingratiated himself with the two women. He told them his name was Kevin, bought them drinks, danced with them, and allayed any suspicions by asking if he could meet them some time in the future, since he could not stay too late that evening. He gave them a fake business card with his name, a pseudonym, real telephone numbers, and a real email address. This openness convinced the women that he was real and OK and of course he was a hunk. They opened up to him after some intimate dancing, giving him some names and telephone numbers. The guest woman even gave him her email address. He thanked her and suggested that she and perhaps her friend might like to double date the following week. He suggested that Wednesday would again be suitable. Kevin asked them to email him if they could not make it. They agreed, looking forward to seeing him again. They did ask about a double date; would he find a date for them or should the women find someone? He assured them that he would ask a good friend, a fellow athlete who was also a stock broker. The women slavered over the idea that they would meet another well off fellow. The report went to the attorney and subsequently John was briefed. The shocker, more than the portending assignation, was the address of the second woman. It turned out to be Missy's former best friend Sandra, now double dating, drinking, and dancing. It was evident that Sandra had conspired with Missy to set me up. The following night, Thursday, the investigator followed Missy as she left home ostensibly en route to the gym. She drove directly to a home across town, parked in the drive, and went into the house. Three hours later, she left and drove home. The investigator learned the name of the owner and noted it for the attorney. Friday night, Missy dressed, went to the same bar alone, and met someone who was obviously waiting for her. They left after one drink, walked to a nearby hotel, registered, and went up to their room. The investigator verified the name of the man registering. I was learning very quickly that my wife had an unbelievable second life, leaving me chained at home while she fucked anyone she pleased including her steady fuck whose home she visited every Monday and Thursday. My attorney wanted to gather more evidence, such as the repeated visits by my wife to the house across town. Furthermore, he wanted me to carefully obtain from my wife's clothing samples of secretions, and hair that might contain DNA. This evidence could be critical. He sympathized with my desire to finish quickly in order to not be chained up regularly but he needed that crucial DNA evidence. Accordingly, when my wife returned from her forays, which became increasingly frequent, leaving me chained to the house almost nightly, I carefully separated the wash load out in order to obtain fresh evidence that might contain DNA. Every time she returned home after an outing I squeezed whatever fluid or moisture I could from her clothing, primarily her panties, carefully documenting the date and time on the zip-lock bags used for evidence collection. The third month of my punishment rolled around with my wife again preparing for the bridge club. She had me wear a very short maid's outfit which showed a good part of my rear. She forced the chastity belt on me knowing parts of the belt would show because of my skimpy costume. She embellished the chastity by adding thigh cuffs chained to the chastity, providing great discomfort and humiliation. The chastity affair had electrical stimulation, proving to be almost a torture, since I could not have an erection. Missy turned on the current, stimulating me but preventing me from having any pleasure from it. I wore very high heels with leg irons; a chain belt for effect and a steel collar with chains and cuffs attached giving me limited arm movement. Thus I was displayed, practically naked, for the amusement of her bridge club. I endured this gross embarrassment, since I knew my attorney was at that time preparing to finish the game and put the screws to my wife and her co-conspirators. I even said to Missy, "How about a photo of me for all the ladies, perhaps a photo with the bridge club in the background." She thought that was a cute idea and took a few shots. All through this period she had taken many pictures of me, hoping to intimidate me and control me. These pictures would prove to be a great embarrassment to her. Further investigations revealed the full extent of my wife's outside life. My attorney prepared a case for divorce using depositions from the several participants including Sandra. Faced with possible civil actions, the participants were quite happy to testify against Missy. The investigation revealed the names of no less than eleven men she had been balling with the dates going back several months, greatly predating my afternoon fling that she and Sandra had set up. Melissa simply wanted an excuse to restrain me so I could not learn about her assignations. She was evidently getting nervous but also wanted to expand her activities; she had lurched into nymphomania. In court I was granted the divorce and due to the egregious nature of my betrayal I was granted all our assets. I later obtained judgments against several of her bedmates, claiming them as co-respondents. Melissa agreed to move out within a few weeks, as soon as she could find a place to live, and to get a another job since she had been fired as a result of the publicity of the divorce action. There was an unsubstantiated rumor that one of her bedmates was a director of the company and the director's wife was displeased. The piece de resistance, however was my displaying Missy to her bridge girls in all her chained glory. She was still living in our house -- soon to be my house -- when the time for the monthly bridge club rolled around. She wanted to have one last bridge game. I'm not sure why, maybe she had some ulterior motive but I was determined to keep the upper hand. I made sure that all the ladies were invited. After we set up the tables, she went to the bedroom to dress. I followed her, grabbed her, cuffed her to the wall, stripped her and prepared for the final show. Cuffed as she was, she could not resist and I put on her a waist chain with cuffs, leg irons and the 'fuck me' sandals that she had teased me with so many times when preparing for her frequent forays. I then squeezed the chastity key location from her and fucked her royally. I also forced her to kneel and made her suck me to another erection using a ring gag so she could not bite me. I used the same cuffs, chains, and collars on her that she had humiliated me with. Then I made her wear a chastity belt until she was ready to leave the house permanently. Finally I tightened the leg iron chain, giving her only a few inches of movement. I put a steel bondage collar on her and from the collar, light chains down to a pair of nipple clamps. I gagged her, then left her there until the bridge girls arrived. When they were all seated I dragged my unwilling Missy down and displayed her in all her restrained glory. I provided court records for them to read, highlighting the names of her lovers and the assignation times and places. Her duplicity was now public knowledge and many of the ladies expressed their sympathies to me, commenting that I was truly noble to have withstood her abuse in the cause of love. I explained that I did love her but that with her egregious betrayal, the marriage was irredeemably broken. This time it was Melissa's turn to be humiliated, especially since, again, it was rumored that she had bedded (fucked) a few of the wives' spouses. There was much gasping and from three women, applause. Melissa moved out; I did not want to know where she went. Life continued for me. I looked for another wife and at the time of this writing I am still looking. Gloria, who tried to help me is currently trying to fix me up with a new woman. Some of the bridge club ladies were either divorced or single. Accordingly, my sex life has improved immensely. End (c) 2008 by Janet Baker