Warning : There is no explicit sex in this story! If you are looking for a quick thrill move on. It is in the (Loving Wives) category because I think (non-erotic) should be saved for essays and guidance.
Thank you to all those people who posted constructive comments to my first story. All noted and gratefully received
This is the second story in the Revenge series. I like to try to write stories outside the normal approach, so unless I can think of a way of doing this it will also be my last on this theme and I may move on to other subjects.
The first was about a wife who had a short affair and how her husband responded to it. They were both essentially nice, ordinary people but the revenge shaded over into abuse and came close to destroying both of them. They eventually moved on with their lives because in the real world that is what people do.
This one is nothing like that.
Some of those commenting on the last story would not have been happy unless the wife had been burned at the stake. This will be much more to their liking. No consideration for anyone here.
Revenge: Served Hot
Hello my (soon to be ex-) wife,
Congratulations — you have been served!
Sorry it took so long. Well, sorry for me not for you; but I have been waiting for a number of things to happen and one special trigger event. That has now happened and I immediately notified my lawyer. There would also have been a slight delay while they arranged to serve you at work at the moment of maximum embarrassment for you.
How did they know when that would be? Somebody at your firm who you think of as a friend told them.
Ouch! That must hurt. That person actually hates you. The icing on the cake is I am not going to tell you who they are.
When you were served you were also handed an envelope with your name on it in my handwriting. You were probably expecting a letter. Instead you only got a web link to an online mailbox (which looks like it has never contained an email) and where you have to log on to the drafts folder to read an attachment to a draft message? No, this looks weirder than you would have expected, even from a computer nerd like me.
There is a reason for this.
You know, I always loved that bit at the start of “Mission Impossible” where they talk about the message self-destructing and then it goes up in a puff of smoke. How cool is that? Well this document also contains admissions that you could use against me so it is going to be destroyed thirty minutes after you have opened it. Nothing as dramatic as a puff of smoke, unfortunately. Just a small program you will have triggered and a text to me so that I can check the message has gone and I can wipe the site.
You may think that you can copy or forward this mail to yourself but I am not stupid enough to allow that. Although this sits in the draft folder of a mail account it is not actually “a document”. You can’t send it, save it or even copy and paste any of the contents. If you had the time you might be able to get another computer geek to work out what to do but this will not be around long enough for that. Thirty minutes is all that you will get so read quickly!
I think it only fair after all our years of marriage to warn you about what is going to happen next.
No — I am lying! Fairness does not come in to it. I want you to read this and really worry about what is to come. Believe me when I say it is going to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off your face. I only wish I could be there to see it, but please feel free to imagine me, miles away, laughing my head off for the rest of the day and having the occasional chuckle in the future every time I think of you reading this.
You may think you can just skip to the end to see what I have got planned. So let me make a brief diversion in order to drag things out. This will take up some of the thirty minutes but you can’t afford to skip over it because I may have deliberately put a clue in there as to what is going to happen to the two of you. Would I be that nasty? You bet I would.
Can you imagine how I felt when you started coming home late, unchanged and unshowered in your wrinkled clothes and smelling of sex? Or how it was even worse when you came home on time, got dressed in your slut clothes and went out, sometimes not coming back until the next morning? How you taunted me that Dave has a bigger cock and he was now the only man who satisfied you?
You must have started feeling safe when I did nothing about it. You must have thought I was beaten and would accept my fate as a husband with a slut wife. Did you really think I was just going to accept what the two of you were doing? After all this time did you really not know me?
Actually I had started planning my revenge about a month earlier, from which you should be able to work out that I first realised what was going on at your company party. I had grown suspicious when every time you talked about work you always brought up Dave’s name. I got the impression from the way you talked about him you were more than colleagues. Then you asked me to set up a web site for him and when I said I didn’t want to you nagged me and made my life hell until I agreed. Then, when I met him, I thought he was an arrogant, slimy shit. It turned out I was right.
Then at the party the two of you spent a lot of time huddled in the corner of the room with you giggling at everything he said and glancing back at me to check I was still sitting at the table with the other husbands. I wanted to go across and punch that grin off his face but knew that if I did that you would only defend him. After all, you were only talking to a colleague and I would become the villain of the piece. The mad, jealous husband who over-reacted to an innocent conversation. A man who could not bear to see his wife having a bit of innocent fun with someone she worked with.
The only time you came to my table was to ply me with drinks. I drink very little these days, but you probably forgot my telling you that I used to drink heavily when I was younger. That is if you were even listening to me in the first place. Because of those early drinking sessions I have a pretty high tolerance for alcohol. I also learned how to fight which would have been bad news for Dave.
Towards the end of the night I lost sight of you and then one of the women at the next table came back from the toilets and started telling them of somebody having wild and screaming sex in one of the cubicles. The rest of the table immediately knew who it was and kept looking across at me and trying to shush the other woman. She just said not to bother as you had got me too drunk to know what was going on. That made me wonder how long the affair had been going on as it seemed to be common knowledge
Later you both helped me up to our hotel room and I continued to act as if I was on the point of passing out. Dave left and you sat there and waited a few minutes to check I was asleep and then you left. I knew where you were going. That was when I knew divorce was inevitable.
The main thing remaining in my life after dumping you would be my job. I love my work. It brings in a good income and some of my colleagues have become firm friends. The one drawback is that it relies on my high security clearance and I would automatically lose that after being convicted of a crime.
I really wanted to catch him by his car one dark night and teach him a life-changing lesson with a baseball bat but what the two of you were up to was too widely known and the police would immediately tag me as the main suspect. I only needed to make one mistake to lose my job, get myself a criminal record and probably a prison sentence.
So physical violence was out. Besides, I am not so sure I could do something that extreme. It is one thing to punch someone but things have a habit of escalating and it almost never ends with a single punch. I deal with the consequences of casual violence on a daily basis in my work and know that it very rarely ends up in the way that anyone expects.
So I had to think of another way.
The first thing I did was to change my employment status and become a consultant. I remained in the same job and because of my security credentials I would still be assured of computer work. The difference was that I now work for a company housed in a tax haven which pays me a minimum wage and expenses. I have made sure it has no real assets (don’t ask how I did it) so after the divorce you will not be getting anything from me.
You will now be thinking “Who cares? Now I get to live with my lover with the big dick, expensive car and apartment and the great job with top management prospects so I will not need your money.” I am pretty sure that will not happen.
You know that old joke about a man with a big dick not having enough blood left over to go to his brain? That’s Dave. He pissed off the man who set up his web site.
The funny part is that if you had not forced me to do it I would not have the means to ruin both your lives.
He wanted something completely private and said it was so he could back up personal data to somewhere secure where it would be impossible to hack. I told him impossible was not something that could be guaranteed when talking about computers and that backing up to a cloud site would be good enough but he kept insisting on his own remote server. That meant a lot more work for me and also made me suspicious. If he was doing anything illegal and the site was traced back to me I would lose my clearance and I was going to make sure that did not happen.
So I set it up in Eastern Europe under a false name and with one year’s prepaid rental. Which, by the way, Dave the Dick never gave repaid. Luckily it was cheap enough that I never chased him for the money, which meant I never gave him the paperwork. So he has no idea where the server is or the name of the registered owner.
I hate to admit it, but I actually enjoyed setting it up. The website could not be indexed by search engines, the only way to connect to it was by knowing its IP address and you could only connect if you knew the port number, as ports 80, 8080 and 443 were disabled. You needed to use a high numbered port not specified by IANA. I was quite proud off it.
However, because I did not trust Dickhead I created two accounts for him, one called Dave which I told him was a standard account and the one he should normally use. The other was called admin and I told him that admin was the full administrator account and only to use it when necessary. A nerd would have told him I was lying.
Actually admin is just an another account name and has no more rights than I wanted to give it. So I gave it enough rights that Dave would be able to do pretty much anything but my administrator account left me with full control and the ability to shut his accounts down anytime I wanted. I looked at it a few times after setting it up but nothing was happening and I lost interest.
After the dance I went back to check whether he was doing anything illegal. At first glance I was disappointed. It was just him and 4 “friends” messaging each other and swapping pictures and videos.
When I looked closer it turned out to be a perfect way of burning the both of you.
The messages were them swapping misogynistic stories about women they knew (by implication mainly women they worked with) and expressed the kind of views that would have got them sacked. I could see why they wanted to keep it away from prying eyes.
When I got deeper in to it that turned out to be the mildest thing they were doing. They had a competition going between them as to who could fuck the most married women and who could humiliate them most. I confined myself to only reading what was posted on Dave the Dick’s web site as any attempt to view the others may have alerted them that they had an intruder. I was sure I could have done it if I needed to but there was no sense in taking the risk as Dickhead’s site was more than enough ammunition, thank you.
Each web page started with a photo of a woman putting Dave’s dick into her mouth. Yes, it did look pretty damn big but it wasn’t just him boasting. The focal point of every photo was to show her hand with her wedding rings prominently displayed. Just to make sure the competition with his mates was fair.
Below the photo was a set of videos. They had all been taken with a mobile phone that looked as if it had propped up somewhere out of sight so I assumed that the women involved did not know they were being filmed. He probably had to take dozens of videos before he had a few that gave a good enough picture to be put on to the website. If that were the case it showed that most of these affairs had lasted for at least a short time and had not been single episodes.
Dave and his friends had commented on all the videos ridiculing and criticising the women involved both for their looks and how poorly they were performing.
For example, one of the wives was known only as Debbie. His comment was if he pushed his dick far enough into her mouth she would gag and then vomit. He made a video collage of her being sick a number of times and announced not to do this in your own bedroom because you would never get the smell out of your carpet. He really is an arrogant bastard and a poor excuse for a human being.
The use of his mobile phone made me wonder what other information was on there.
So I put a small webcam near our front door. When he came around to our house to fuck you I would leave work and check out where you were. On my fourth attempt he had left his mobile downstairs. I guess he could not set it up to secretly video you when you were already there before him. I quickly copied his contact list. That may have been illegal, I don’t know. Irrelevant, as this document is going to be erased anyway.
When I checked it later it was as I had guessed. The arrogant bastard had used the blowjob pictures in his contacts, which meant I could now match the women pictured on his website with their contact details. Telephone numbers and first names in most cases.
I now had everything I needed and it was just a matter of waiting.
———
Now it has finally arrived and I can update this document.
He posted videos of you. It was inevitable. You thought you were something special and he thought of you as another point scored in the competition.
The first couple of videos are of you, on your knees, giving him blow-jobs (or worshipping his cock, as he puts it) though it seems to be more like he is just fucking your face.
The rest are mainly of him doing you doggie with the comment that he prefers this as he doesn’t need to look at your wrinkly old face. Many of those finish with him fucking you up the arse. He simply hammers away as hard as he can and with a cock that size it must have hurt and probably left you unable to walk for a bit. You definitely would not have been able to sit down without flinching.
The final one has him pulling out of your arse and pushing his dick in your mouth. The resolution isn’t good enough to pick out the details but from the way you struggle and he forcibly holds your head in place it makes the caption. “Some married sluts will eat shit in order to get my enormous cock!” look justified.
I had thought about deleting that last one as it was just so disgusting and degrading and then I thought no. You actually did it so you should own up to it.
I then deleted all Dave the Dickhead’s accounts so he could not change anything and did some little alterations of my own. I added names and contact details of all the wives. I started out feeling sorry for them but as I worked on changing the site my mood changed and I started feeling sorry for the husbands instead. At least Debbie’s husband will now know why the carpet smells the way it does.
I then created a new home page. It has a big picture of the Dickhead and a smaller one I mocked up (i.e. faked) with his arm around you and both of you smiling at the camera. It would not survive close inspection, or the fact that you are a later shown as a “victim” as well as Dickhead’s woman but I don’t think many people will stop to think about it.
I then added all his contact details including his full name, address, phone number and car licence plate.
Then the name of your firm, its address and contact number.
His and your positions at the firm.
The people who work for you.
The name and contact details of all members of senior management.
I then made the website viewable. Changed the HTML port back to 80, gave it a memorable name and set up a massive set of tags for search engines to index. Anyone googling things like slut wives, blowjob, oral, anal or any combination of the major porn search terms gets to see you all. I tried some of them and Dickhead’s site gets a pretty good position with most combinations.
I am wondering whether either of you will ever get employment again.
It will especially hurt Dickhead as his flashy car is leased through the firm and a good portion of the rent on his flat is paid by the firm as an enticement to join. Both those and his hope for a senior management position gone forever.
I should also imagine that he will be scared to be seen in public. There will be a number of angry husbands and even angrier wives looking to cut his cock off with a rusty knife.
So enjoy your future.
I could not manage the “Mission Impossible” self destruction tape but I think I have just seen both of your futures go up in smoke.