56 comments/ 69172 views/ 17 favorites Does Honesty Pay? Yes, a High Price By: FinishTheDamnStory ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Payback's Ramifications - my ending to hansbwl's series Does Honesty Pay? http://www.literotica.com/s/does-honesty-pay-of-course-not hansbwl's story certainly left us in a quandary. Keith wakes up at a party in bed with a naked woman, a visitor from out of town. He asks her not to speak of what had happened, or hadn't, since neither recalled the night before. He goes home and, feeling guilty, decides to be honest, and confesses to his wife shortly after. She goes crazy, as women tend to do in these stories. She gives him the cold shoulder, then ties him down, leaving him to watch a video of her having sex with three of his friends, over a period of three days. One of them was the host of the party where Keith got in trouble. While he's deciding what to do, she learns that it was a setup, and her husband did nothing. The man she'd slept with, her husband's friend, had done it as a joke, and jumped at the opportunity to sleep with her. She is distraught, and must decide what to do. At the end of hansbwl's tale, she appears to decide to hide the knowledge from him. What follows is what I believe could happen next... Thanks to hansbwl for his generous permission to continue this story. Other's have written continuations - these include Ohio and H20wader, as well at hansbwl's own conclusion, if you'd like a taste of other endings. I like finishing stories. I guess I'm a little weird. Sometimes they are stories that have been abandoned. Others just cry out for an extended ending. In cases like this, it's a story where the author has invited others to continue their work, in The Troubador's & Patricia51'stradition. When offered the opportunity, I'll give you my idea of an ending. Fair warning though, I don't write about total wimps. May not be BTB, all nuclear and shit, but no voluntary cucks, or whiny simpering wimps. Some of you won't like my endings. That's fair enough. I'm happy to hear your reasons. This is only one author's idea of a fitting resolution. You're welcome to try your hand at writing your own. I hope you enjoy this one. ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Keith lay in the bed, the monitor blank, the video having just ended. He'd screwed up. Even if it was only drinking to excess, he'd made a mistake. Ended up naked with a stranger. He honestly didn't remember doing anything with her, and doubted he did, but it was still a mess. He'd been honest with his wife, and that hadn't turned out so well. Still, he was a firm believer in honesty and being open. Even if it hurt. Susan's response had been so over the top, he didn't know how he could live with it. All her stupid little quips before and during the video about the sex she was going to give him were unlikely ever to happen. Not after what he'd seen. Screwing his friends, rubbing it in his face, doing things she'd never done with him. Giving her virgin ass to that jerk Roger, sucking John after sex, shaving her pussy. The hour of video had been edited. He only witnessed four sessions, one each with Tim and Roger, and two with John, but he had little doubt there were more. The way she did it, carefully planned, in their home, in their marital bed, over a period of six days, hiding it from him, was just as scary. Her portrayal on the video, not angry, but playful, laughing, joking about what she was doing, and how she might bring some of the new stuff home to him. How she clearly enjoyed it. Thinking he would be excited by watching her become a cheating whore. It was too much. Way too much. It was going to be difficult, but he reached for the phone she'd left. She'd given him strict directions that he could only call 911 or her. Directions he was now going to ignore. "Jane? I have an emergency. I need you to come over here as soon as possible." "What's wrong, Keith? Is it Susan?" "Please, I'll explain it when you arrive. As quickly as you can. You'll need to get the key from under the planter on the front porch. The alarm is set, and the code to turn it off is 4321. Got that?" "You're scaring me Keith. How come you can't let me in?" "Please, Jane. I swear, this is an emergency. Code 4321. If you can, call Karen and Claire, Roger's and John's wives, and have them meet you here. Don't let it hold you up; I need you here as soon as possible. Please!" "Oh, God! I... I'm on my way!" Jane only lived a couple of blocks away. Even walking it would only take five minutes or so. Karen and Claire were her neighbors. It was now a race. ~ * ~ * ~ Susan was nervous, parked in front of her own house. She didn't know if she could face him, hide her guilt. She'd betrayed him, cheated, and humiliated her husband, because of a prank. Keith had done the right thing, confessing what had happened, brutally honest in every detail, if what she'd overheard was true. And she'd tortured him for it. She brushed the tears from her eyes. Get yourself together, she thought. It's done. It was a mistake, but you can make a big scene of forgiving him, and make it up to him. No lies, but what he doesn't know can't hurt him or us. He can never know. It took a huge effort to finally drag herself out of the car. She looked down at her clothing. The short skirt, sleazy underwear, and transparent shirt she'd flaunted before leaving the house. She was disgusted with herself, and her behavior. She'd find a way to make it up to him, somehow. Susan entered her home, hearing the beeping of the alarm, and disabled it. She needed to start this right. She selected a bottle of wine from the kitchen and two stemmed glasses. She stripped down to her lingerie. He was probably sporting an erection for at least an hour now, seeing her with those bastards. She'd take care of him, pleasure him like she never had before. She'd do everything. All the asinine things she'd done with them, as part of her petty revenge. Things she should have done only with her husband. Remember, she told herself. He's not totally guiltless. He did flirt with that woman, and drank far too much. In her heart, she knew how weak that argument was. How many times, at how many parties, had she drunk a few too many, flirted too much, confident that her man would take care of her, as he always had. No, she couldn't think about that. She had the bottle in one hand, two glasses in the other, as she made that long walk up those stairs, bracing herself, preparing to hide the guilt, and to make things right. She turned into the room where her husband was. Still cuffed to the bed. He was struggling, probably upset. Then she took a second look. She couldn't remember gagging him, or tying his legs down. The blow to her head made her drop the bottle and glasses. A second one had her seeing stars, collapsing to the ground. She was being dragged across the floor by her hair. Susan tried to scream as she was kicked, scratched, hit with something terribly painful, her hair torn from her skull. She tried to cover up, but the assault continued, a horrible beating until she was sobbing curled up on the floor, every inch of her body aching. ~ * ~ * ~ Susan woke when the cold water her in the face. She gasped, in pain, while she tried to figure out what was going on. A face was in front of hers, angry, vicious. She knew that face. Jane. The bitch whose husband had caused all this. "Fucking whore!" Jane spat in her face. "Your husband screws around, so you think it's OK to fuck OUR husbands?" Jane slapped Susan's face hard. Susan tried to respond, but realized she was tied to a chair and gagged. "You fucking CUNT!" Jane moved out of the way, Susan saw a view that made her heart ache. Claire was naked, straddling her husband, riding his cock. "How's it feel, bitch!" For the next couple of hours, she was forced to watch as the women used Keith. It was only a few minutes in, when they ungagged him. When he tried to speak, Jane covered his face. "Not another word, you bastard. It's you that started all this! If you hadn't fucked my friend, none of this would have happened. You wouldn't have destroyed three good marriages. So don't say a fucking word." She yanked Keith's head up by the hair, making him look at his brutalized wife. "I take that back. You can say whatever you want." He watched in horror as Karen pulled her arm back, and swung a leather belt against his wife's bare chest. Her gag muffled her scream. "Every word that passes your lips, earns her another lash. From each of us." Claire took the belt, and he cringed when it slashed across Susan's face. "So if you want some revenge on her, here's your chance. You do want some don't you? You slept with another woman, drunk. She fucked the brains out of three married men, close friends, and behaved like a total slut. Hardly fair, is it? Go ahead, Keith, tell me how you feel?" Keith never uttered a word, turned away when Jane took her turn with the belt, swinging it down against Susan's bare legs as hard as she could. He tried to ignore the running video, where Roger was pushing his 4 incher into his wife's virgin ass. They used him. Jane forced a pill down his throat, which he'd bought at the gym for a 'special' occasion. They took turns riding his face and his cock. It was painful, hardly pleasurable. They nearly smothered him a few times. After the first hour or so, they calmed a bit. It wasn't loving or affectionate, but at least less torturous. As first he hadn't responded to their sitting on his face, until he was forced to watch them shave a strip of hair off Susan's head. "Ten minutes each," Jane sneered. "I'm parking on that tongue of yours for 10 minutes. If I don't come, I'm shaving off more. Once she's bald, we'll start the real payback." He did it, his very best. Keith gave the women dozens of orgasms. He had his cock milked dry four times. He had been forced to warn them before coming, and each load went into one of their mouths, before being spit into Susan's face. When they were done, Jane and Claire got dressed, and took the video as evidence for use in their upcoming divorces. Karen told them she'd release Keith, but she wanted a little more personal revenge. It took her a while, but her diligence came through, and she got one last erection out of Keith. Thank God for little blue pills, she thought. She rummaged through the bed-stands, and found what she was looking for. She lubed up Keith's huge cock, and her own ass. "My puny dicked husband is worthless in bed. You gave me more orgasms tonight, Keith, than I've had in years. So I'm going to reward you. Roger took her anal cherry. Now you're getting mine." She moaned, grunting, crying out in pain as she impaled herself on his cock. Keith was average sized down there. Six and 3/4 inches at his hardest. That's not what he started with, when Karen began her final assault, but he reckoned he was at least that now. The last couple of hours had been confusing, painful, exciting, humiliating, mind-blowing. Karen had changed things, starting with her incredible, sexy blowjob, and now her desire to make him her first, back there. She groaned, forcing her body down onto his staff, almost all the way. "Damn, you're huge compared to Dickless. I've lived with his lousy three inch dicklet for far too long. Fuck my ass, baby. Fuck it hard." She was bouncing up and down on his straining shaft. "How's it feel, baby? Is it tight? Is my ass the tightest thing ever, or what? Tell me." Keith glanced over as this wife, her head hanging down, her body covered with bruises, strap marks evident all over. The long bald swath cut through her hair caught his eye. Karen checked out where Keith was looking. She stopped her movement. "It's Ok, baby. We're done with her. She was a bitch to do it, but our asshole husbands could have said no. At least you were drunk when you did it. They were sober, and have no excuse. So you can speak if you want. Am I tight, baby?" "Incredibly," Keith admitted. She smiled, and started riding him. "If I free your legs, you're not going to try anything stupid are you?" Keith shook his head, then rattled his handcuffs. "No. I promise." Karen grinned, and pulled off his cock, grimacing. "This anal thing is bullshit. It hurts like hell. Why would anyone want to do that?" Keith shrugged. "Some people like it, I guess. My wife certainly seemed to." "Maybe that's why God made 3 inch cocks," Karen replied. She got a warm wet facecloth, and cleaned his cock thoroughly, before taking it back in her mouth. She untied his legs, rubbing his ankles where the rope marks stood out. She straddled him again, for a nice long ride. She was rocking back and forth slowly, purring, her breasts caressing his face, looking for another orgasm. "Next... marriage... gettin' me... a REAL... cock," she moaned, as she trembled through another one. "Why Karen?" Keith asked softly, pushing into her lazily at the end of each stroke. "Why what?" "Why do you women take your revenge to such extremes?" he asked. She grinned, leaned down and pressed her lips to his. She wouldn't stop until he opened his mouth, letting her tongue in, letting her kiss him deeply. He watched in wonderment as she came again, groaning. "Extreme?" she gasped, before giggling. "I maybe, maybe, had sex with another woman. I'm not sure, and it obviously wasn't very good if I did. Susan couldn't pay me back in kind, though, could she? Couldn't go for one, quiet, discrete, fuck. No, she goes after three of our friends, married men, fucks them in our house, in my bed. Does all sorts of things for them, she's never done for me, tapes it, ties me up and forces me to watch it. How fair is that?" Susan was exhausted, barely conscious, but her husband's pained voice, laying out her folly so clearly, hurt nearly as bad as the beating. To make it worse, in truth, he hadn't done anything. Karen sat upright, stretching, grinding on his cock. Her husband was lucky to last 2 minutes, and coming twice in a night was miracle. Keith was on his fifth, and it felt like it would never go down. She was in heaven. "Nobody said it's supposed to be fair baby. It's revenge." "She fucked your husband once. You saw the video, she didn't even enjoy it." Karen laughed, bouncing on his cock. "Of course she didn't. How could she? She was an idiot." "Once, Karen. And you beat her half to death. Fucked yourself silly, using me, making her watch. How many orgasms have you had?" "Gazillions. Best night ever sweetie. Thank you." "This isn't right. This over the top payback just makes things worse." "Hush now, lover, or Momma's gonna have to gag you. Just give me a few more nice ones, and I'll let you go. Remember, you started all this, you're only getting your just desserts. She's getting off easy." Karen got what she wanted, including a nice big screaming orgasm. Keith didn't know how he stayed hard, but after the milking they'd given him, he was certainly not even close to coming. "Lets' try that anal thing one more time," she said. She got up, wiped herself clean, then lubed her ass up. Second try was better. She still had a hard time getting started, but once they got going, she seemed to get past the worst of the pain. "God, I'm such a slut for you, Keith. Anything. Anything you want. Fuck me any way you want, baby. Pound my filthy ass with that fat cock!" After a few more minutes of righteous virgin ass-fucking, dirty talk, and visual candy, a miracle occurred. "Gonna, come," Keith groaned. She put her hands on his chest, and drove her ass up and down with a vengeance. "Come, come in my poor abused ass, baby. First load in my bottom. Do it. Come for me." He groaned, and squirted out whatever little he had left, whimpering, as her butthole clamped down on him. Karen lay down on his chest, gasping. He looked over and saw it was almost 2:00 am. He'd been handcuffed to that damn bed, for over 6 hours! He remembered his wife leaving around 7:30, and the video starting at 9:00. Calling Jane a little after 10:00. Susan showing up around 10:40. Six hours tied up, and more than three hours of fucking. One for the record books. More than twice his previous best. "I've got to pee something fierce, and my wrists are killing me," he told her softly. She sat up and kissed him gently. He watched her retrieve the handcuff keys. "I had a great time tonight, baby. We're gonna do that again. Call me, Ok?" She put the keys down for a moment, got dressed, then placed the keys in his hand, and left. It was only a minute before he was free, rubbing his aching wrists. He jogged to the bathroom and peed before he made an even bigger mess of the bedroom. Keith started a bath, then ungagged his wife, and freed her. She was crying, when he lifted her up, and carefully placed her in the tub. He added some bubble bath, took a washcloth, and started washing her down. They hadn't spoken. His wife looked up at him. "Why'd you call them? I was done. It could have all been over. Nobody else had to know." "I would have known. I could never have looked at our friends in the face again. I couldn't be in the same room as those bastards, once you'd fucked them. I had to tell the women their husbands were cheaters. I... I didn't know they'd go crazy like that. I was going to give them the copies of the video, and let them move on, knowing the truth." "You know we have to get back at them, don't you? Make them pay. I'm gonna shave them all bald, and tattoo a dick across their faces. Super glue their damn cheating pussies shut." "You're going to have to do it alone." "You're not going to help me? After what they did to you? To us?" "No. I'm done, done with all of it. Revenge destroyed my marriage. I want no part of it." She looked up anxiously. "No, honey. We're fine now. I understand why you made that call. I'm not going to hold it against you. I went a little overboard, and you called me on it. We're even now, Ok?" "No, Susan. I love you, but I can't. I can't do it. I can never trust you again. You abused my trust tonight. Teased me, lured me into thinking we were back on track. I let you blindfold and seduce me, so you could torture me with the images of you doing all the things you never did with me, with those three assholes. I was raped for three hours because of you, and your need for revenge. I'll never know when you're going to blow up again. Maybe I'll leave the toilet seat up, and you'll douse me in gasoline and set me on fire in the night. I'll never know, never trust you, never feel safe around you again. I'm sorry, but I'm done." He watched the tears stream down her face, unmoved. "Never again, I swear. I was angry, went crazy, but I've learned my lesson." "You have? What about shaving their heads, gluing their pussies shut?" She turned red, hearing the impact of her own angry words. "Another chance, baby?" she asked softly. "I know I don't deserve it, but one more. Please. I love you, nobody but you, ever. There's no one else for me." "Maybe not, but you sure loved all that strange cock. I saw how you were, Susan. I can't help but wonder now. If that's what you were willing to show me, how much worse are the parts you edited out? How could you cheat on me so cavalierly, so easily, joke about it? You sucked John's cock after sex, gave Roger your ass, shaved your pussy for Tim, all things you'd never do for me. How could you think it would excite me? How could you hide it from me for a week so easily? I had no idea. None. Now I'll always wonder. How many more times have you done it, and I never knew? How often will you do it in the future?" "No Keith, there's never been anyone else. There never will be. I enjoyed it, but the satisfaction was more from getting even, than the sex. I'm sorry I did those things, I wasn't thinking straight. I was just so angry with you." Does Honesty Pay? Yes, a High Price "Getting even? Can you hear yourself, Susan? Sure, I screwed up. I got nothing out of it, I don't even remember fucking her if I did. You, on the other hand, fucked three married men. Four marriages were destroyed. You used friends, not strangers to get back at me. That still wasn't enough, you had to go further, humiliating me, tying me up, and making me watch your blatant adultery. How is that possibly getting even!" She shrunk away from him, in fear. He'd never lifted a hand against her. He couldn't, it wasn't in his nature. But he finally understood. She would have done it to him, so she had to believe he'd do it to her. He abandoned her in the tub, and tore the bedding off the bed. Halfway through remaking it, he knew he could never sleep there again. Where she brought her lovers, where she fucked them. Where she tied him down, handcuffed him, abusing his trust. He put on shorts, went to the living room, and opened the sofa bed. He was lying there, wondering how such a simple mistake as drinking too much, could end up in such a disaster. She whimpered as she climbed into the bed beside him. "Are you alright?" he asked. "No. I ache all over, but the worst pain is inside. I've destroyed us, haven't I? Me and my stupid revenge." He nodded, and pulled her close. "I wish it were otherwise. I'm scared of you." "It... it gets worse, Keith." He chuckled. "Really? Worse? How could it possibly get worse?" "You didn't cheat on me. It was all for nothing. I ruined our lives for nothing." "What... when... how did you find out? When?" "Tonight. I heard Tim talking about it. You passed out, and they thought it would be funny to strip you and put you in that woman's bed. A stupid joke. If they had admitted it once you confessed the truth to me, we probably could have laughed it off. I might have gotten pissed at you for flirting and drinking too much, but it would have been over. But no, they took advantage of my anger to fuck me, and fuck us over." She clung to me, crying. "I'm sorry." He held her, until she fell asleep. He was having a harder time of it. He didn't believe in revenge. He knew what it could lead to, but Tim and his buddies were going to pay. ~ * ~ * ~ Keith's Story: One Year Later Claire's was the only marriage that survived. When Jane found out that I had never done anything, that her husband thought it was a big joke, then went ahead and fucked Susan, she blew up. She stabbed him in the back, at the dinner table, at least a dozen times. She's in jail for a long time. Tim's in the ground. I guess he paid, the ultimate price, but not at my hand. Once Karen learned there was good sex to be had, she dumped her husband, used the 'revenge' tape to rape him in the divorce, and proceeded to increase her experience exponentially. She brought out the video during the divorce, and made fun of the 'big man with the tiny pee-pee'. Word got around. Karen convinced me to let her make a video of my using her in all three holes, wearing her wedding dress. She sent it to him. He's moved away, God it must be five months now. Broke, humiliated, and abandoned, Roger paid. Quite a high price, and I was pleased to contribute. Karen's a regular fuck buddy, and we play at least once a week. She's fun and appreciative. I use extra-strength condoms, and get tested regularly. She teases me about it, swears she always uses protection, and gets checked monthly. She's a great time in the sack, but better safe than sorry. Karen's having a good time, and keeps bringing new experiences and tricks to our get-togethers. Her cousin Holly was one of them. That was a hell of a weekend. Eye opening. Karen claims she's a 'little' bi- now. She loves the cock, but for the right woman, she'll make it a threesome. She's brought the right woman with her twice. Shame on me for encouraging her. She keeps telling me that once she works it out of her system, and once I get over Susan, we'll be a thing. It's a nice little fantasy, but that's all it is. I love fucking her, I do. But I don't love her. Claire showed up on my doorstep a few days after my divorce. Apologetic. For her husband, for not watching over me at the party, for talking to Susan about my behavior, and for her little revenge stunt. When I called Jane that terrible night, to ask her to release me and fill the women in on what their husbands were up to, they were all furious. I shouldn't have told them anything until they freed me, but they insisted on knowing why I was restrained before they'd let me go. It was Jane's idea to beat the hell out of my wife. It was Claire's idea to use me as part of their revenge. When she showed up at my door on a Friday afternoon, I soon learned she was naked under her coat. The bag she was carrying contained restraints. "No fucking way, Claire. Besides, you're still married." "Legally separated. He has his own apartment. It's all over but the fat lady singing," she insisted. "He's just slowing things down, wasting our time and money." "Still, what you're talking about doing is crazy. I don't believe in revenge. Look where it's gotten all of us." "This isn't revenge, Keith. I understand the dangers of that now. This is balancing the scales, making amends. I took advantage of you when you were tied down, and you didn't deserve it. I was cruel, and I feel terrible. I have nightmares about it. Please, Keith? Tie me up, and use me, like I used you. I'm yours until Sunday night. I'll feel better about it, and maybe I can move on. I think you'll feel better about it too. At the worst, you can have a weekend of wild and kinky sex, with a broad that's not half bad looking. Please?" By the time she left Sunday, I was seriously fucked out, and the crazy little slut-puppy had a permanent grin tattooed to her face. I bought a book on bondage, another on rope-play. I watched some videos, studied them. We made a habit of getting together about once a month, usually only for a night or two. Spent a week together at her family's lake cabin, and afterward I thought for sure my dick was going to fall off. The woman was near as insatiable as Karen. I learned that John, her husband, was still trying to get them back together. They were separated but not divorced, and he was fighting it every step of the way. He'd even convinced the court to mandate marriage counseling. After the first few sessions she was a holy terror to be around. I'd keep her gagged most of the time my cock wasn't in her mouth. He hadn't been an instigator, but he'd done the deed, and Claire was royally pissed that he'd had such a good time doing it. The week after our mini-vacation, I had her out for dinner. "I'm gonna give it another try," she said softly, over dessert. I wasn't sure I'd even heard her. "Try?" "My marriage." From the way she'd talked, I never would have expected that. "Good for you. I hope it works out. The guy might be an asshole, and a lousy friend, but I think he loves you." I might even have meant it. "He does. I... I still love him. I miss him sometimes." She was quiet, introspective, before looking up and giving me a dazzling smile. "That's why our times together are so wonderful. It doesn't make sense, it should work the opposite, but I forget about him when I'm with you. I forget everything, for that small window of time. All the emotional hurt goes away." Claire came home with me, and we made love. No more crazy fucking, acrobatics, toy marathons, or bondage games. I made love to her, and held her while she cried. I might have shed a tear or two of my own. The next morning, she kissed me goodbye, went home, and let him in. She'd told him to be there at 10:00 am on the dot. She waited until 10:10 to leave my place, refusing to clean up after our morning tryst. I think he got the message, and I got a little payback of my own. We're friends now. Even John and me, sort of. Sometimes I'll take a walk down memory lane. She'll catch me, and give me our smile. There was something between us. It wasn't love, but it was good. Damn good. A hint of it remains, and every once in a while, a mannerism, a laugh, a light touch will spark it, we'll share a moment, and we'll move on. I know John sees it. It probably kills him. Claire and I both understand. It was wonderful, but it's in the past, and it ain't coming back. But every once in a while, that spark goes off, and I remember. John remembers too. He's had to pay his price, a steep one. He keeps paying it to this day. I'm satisfied, and feel good about my role in extracting payment. And then there's Susan. Susan was repentant, apologetic, and probably would have done anything in her power to make things right, but it just wasn't possible. It was too much. I still love her, and it's obvious she loves me and is waiting for a chance. I don't think it's going to happen. The divorce was amiable, equitable, and we're still close. I take her out to dinner now and then. We spend the night together on occasion. It's good. We're close friends, comfortable, at ease with each other. She's still a beautiful woman, and I'm proud to be seen with her in public. We talk about the past, but never that horrible day. She's not like the others. I get everything she'd once denied me and more, but it's rarely fucking. We make love, intensely, passionately, sometimes desperately. There are times when I know I'm trying to bridge the horrible chasm between us, and she's pathetically eager to help me. I'm certain she'd never refuse me anything, and she never pressures me for more than I can give. It hurts to see the sorrow in her eyes, each time I leave her place. It's the price she has to pay. A price we share. I sometimes wonder if we'll ever stop paying. I look into her sad eyes, seeing the anguish, the regret, the slim possibility of redemption. I believe her when she tells me she's sorry, she loves me, and that she'll never disrespect me. But the trust is gone, and the pain remains. A high price, indeed. ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~