Double Payback Ch. 02

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Sorry, stupid bitch, I make the rules - my sequel to Puttyhund's Double Payback

http://www.literotica.com/s/double-payback

As in so many of these stories, women want payback, but never in kind. They always want to take things to the next step, escalating. A powerful man doesn't roll over, and let the trophy wife fuck him over. No way. Trophy wives are a dime-a-dozen. As Julie would learn...

There are too damn many intriguing stories that are simply unsatisfying. The ending, for one reason or another is ridiculous, and calls for a follow-up ending. I'll give you my idea of that 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. I do believe in reconciliation, under the right circumstances.

For information on how I decide which stories to continue, please check my profile.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

On the ride back to our house, after the last hour spent cheating on me and humiliating me, I was upset. I don't know what she was thinking, chatting about how wonderful the sex was, how much better than me they were, why she'd waited for so long to get a real dick. If she was trying to humiliate me, it was too late.

I was past humiliation, deep into anger, well on my way to revenge.

The conversation was one way. I didn't speak to her. I couldn't without letting my feelings show, and I didn't want to do that. Not yet.

Entering the house, she headed straight for the bedroom. I had a drink, bracing myself to act like the repentant husband, until I could straighten things out.

After the drink, I entered what had once been our bedroom. She was in the bed, eyes closed, obviously awake, from her immediate response to my presence. "Don't even think about it. I'm too wore out from those huge cocks to even think about sex. Hell, I won't even be able to feel your puny little dick for days."

Stupid slut, didn't know when to quit. I turned and left the room, retiring to my study. She'd made up my mind for me.

Within the hour I had booked her first class travel and accommodations to the south of France, as she'd requested. Two full weeks. I rented her a small villa on the water. I'd also hired private investigators to wire the place for audio and video, and to have her observed. It was the least I could do.

I crawled into the bed, and was surprised when she rolled over to me. "I...I'm sorry if I overdid it. We're even now, but if you keep fucking that intern, I'll be getting double-payback and you can count on that."

"I never fucked her. I told you that. I got a blowjob. That's all. And yes, you overdid it."

"You said I could fuck two men. You said so."

"I did. You fucked them. I don't want to talk about it."

"Don't get all pissy with me! You're the one who cheated, you bastard," she snapped, and rolled away from me.

I lay back and ran through my plans. It was surprising how easily I fell asleep, once I'd made my decision.

~ * ~ * ~

Julie was understandably exhausted the next morning. I let her sleep in as I packed her bags, and printed out her tickets and itinerary. I placed her luggage by the door. I had Maria cook a nice breakfast, and I cleaned myself and dressed for the day.

When she came down the stairs later, she was walking carefully, obviously sore. She looked up at me, and I thought I saw a hint of shame, maybe embarrassment. Maybe.

"Morning," she said cautiously.

I got up and gave her a hug. "Good morning, beautiful. I'm sorry I drove you to such an extreme. I'm going to make it up to you. No more BJs from the intern, I promise."

She hugged me back. "I'm sorry if I overdid it last night. You're not mad, are you?"

"I wasn't happy, but I understand your feelings." I drew her to the table, and watched her wince as she sat down. Still tender. Whore.

Maria brought out breakfast, and Julie attacked the coffee like a starving animal. She looked up and saw the envelope in front of her. "What's this?"

"Open it," I said, smiling.

She did, and I saw her eyes open wide. "Sainte-Tropez?"

"You said the south of France, didn't you? Your favorite villa," I pointed out.

"When?"

"Tonight. Two weeks. I hope when you get back, we can have a fresh start."

"Tonight? So soon? I...I don't know if I can be ready..."

I laughed. "You're already packed. Guillermo will drive you anywhere you want today, for last minute shopping. Your spa appointment is at 4:00. Anything you miss, you can buy when you get there."

I walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I need to go to work now. Guillermo will pick you up in an hour. Have fun today, and I'll see you tonight."

She looked nervous. "You're really not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" I asked. "I screwed up, you got your payback. Double-payback as I recall. Time to move on, we can't dwell on this. Do you still love me?" I asked.

"More than ever, honey," she said softly.

"Good. Then have fun today, and I'll see you tonight."

~ * ~ * ~

At the office, I started putting things in motion. It didn't take long, and I returned to doing my real work, I needed to keep the billables up, if I expected to keep moving upward within the firm. I took my afternoon intern break. I had promised my wife no more BJs from the lovely young Linda, so I finally pounded her sweet pussy, for a good 20 minutes, finding it relieved the stress of the day almost as well.

I closed up early, not wanting to worry my wife, and drove to the restaurant where I'd arranged reservations.

She was there, looking absolutely gorgeous. I kissed her on the cheek and took her to our table. She was radiant, stunning, the perfect trophy wife, to all appearances. Of course, appearances can be deceiving. "Did you have a good day?"

"Wonderful. Thank you. I think this is the perfect start to getting our marriage back on track. I know things were a little crazy yesterday..."

"Shh. We don't even have to talk about it, as long as you're happy. Tell me about your shopping."

Like I gave a damn, but I knew what I was doing. I didn't have to speak more than a sentence or two, other than interjecting with appropriate, "Really?" "Sounds great!" "MmmHmm," "That's nice," and other fitting exhortations.

After dinner, Guillermo had transferred her bags to my car, and I took her to the airport. I hugged and kissed her, and promised a new start when she returned. I watched her get on the plane, and smiled.

~ * ~ * ~

A week later, I had the evidence I needed. More than enough. Just as I thought, after fucking around with 'Long' and 'Deep', she was eager for more. And I had it all on video. I closed our joint accounts moved the money, and cancelled the joint credit cards.

I gave Mitchell the go-ahead to file the divorce, on grounds of abandonment and adultery. I reported the theft of my wife's car. I felt pretty confident she'd get little out of me. It was Houston after all, where adultery still meant something. We'd only been together two years, and that meant no alimony, or 'maintenance' as we call it. Everything I'd brought into the marriage would remain mine. She could get a lawyer and fight it, but it would be interesting to see her try. She had no money she could get her hands on. Not many lawyers would want to piss off me or my firm by taking her on, nobody reputable, especially not after they saw my evidence. Word was out on the street, not to take her call.

Then again, I'd be surprised if she could even get back. The ticket was one way, the return ticket a fake. She had no money, no credit cards, and no passport, thanks to a visit by my PI friends. That last part only cost me an extra two grand.

Her tennis buddies were found, and locked up. They pleaded innocence, but they'd been caught red-handed, in the 'stolen' Jag. They claimed my wife had given the car to them. I argued how, since she didn't own the car, it was leased in my name. While they were trying to get bailed out, I made sure that all the men at the club learned that the pair were nicknamed 'Long' and 'Deep' by the many wives they were fucking. I offered to drop the charges, if they'd come clean about who'd they'd been with. The list was long, and there were a lot of unhappy trophy wives hitting the street within the week. A glut in the market, or should I say slut on the market.

Not a problem, since there were so many more young attractive women willing to do whatever it took for a chance at the high-life.

Of course, I added the slime-ball's affidavits to the charges of adultery against my wife.

I was feeling pretty good about myself. I was banging my intern daily, working off steam. The assholes who participated in my wife's revenge plans were apparently worked over pretty well, professionally it seems. Not my doing, but a lot of men don't take lightly to their wives fucking around on them. When the dynamic-duo got out of the hospital, they disappeared. The new tennis pro is good, and openly gay. His assistant is a woman.

Somehow, my wife made it back a few weeks later. I guess one of her few remaining, still married, friends helped her. She was pounding on the front door, screaming. I'd gotten word from the PI's watching her that she was on her way, closing out almost $20,000 of billables on their part. It was worth every single penny.

The process server I had waiting went around the house and met her on the front landing. She'd been served, and wasn't happy about it.

"Let me in, you lousy bastard! I'll destroy you!"

The neighborhood security had her under control within a couple of minutes. The police were loading her in their vehicle 10 minutes later, for violating her restraining order. She should have read the papers.

For about a week, I received threatening calls, and I recorded them. When the judge reviewed the restraining order it was easy to get it extended. Three days later she was in jail again for breaking it, but the few friends she had must have seen the writing on the wall, and nobody would bail her out.

I got a contrite call, two days later. "I surrender. Please, Honey. I'm sorry. I can't take anymore."

That was a good start. I was pissed at her, royally. But I was the one getting blowjobs and I did tell her she could fuck two guys. The way she went at it was way over the top, and she had to understand, I was with her because I loved her, and I wasn't going to accept that type of threats and behavior from her.

I called Mitchell, and had him revoke the restraining order. I bailed her sorry ass out, and had Guillermo pick her up and bring her home. She walked in the house, and I could see she was broken. Good.

"You look and smell like shit, Julie. Go cleanup, and when you're ready, come out and you and I will have a little talk."

It took her nearly 40 minutes, but she came out dressed in a sexy little robe, and I imagine very little underneath it. I suspected how she expected to smooth things over.

She sat down, and I passed her a glass of her favorite wine. I let the silence drag out, as I sipped my Scotch.

She put her glass down. "Why, Honey?"

"You disrespected me and humiliated me, Julie. I won't put up with that."

"But you cheated on me! You said I could fu...be with two guys," she whined. I could see her anger starting to rise and nipped it in the bud.

"You're here now because I love you, idiot that I am. If you piss me off, you'll be on the street in 30 seconds. Do you understand?" I snapped, glaring at her.

She nodded.

"Then you'll keep your attitude to yourself. You don't want to piss me off, Julie. I've been kind so far. We're talking. This is your last chance."

She nodded again.

"Yes, I said you could do it. I didn't think you would, but that's my own fault. I accepted that, but the way you did it was unacceptable. I got a blowjob, damn it! A fucking blowjob. I was discrete. I didn't do it to hurt you, I did it to blow off steam. Your idea of revenge was to have bareback sex with the two assholes that were fucking half the club? You just had to find the biggest dicks you could, and insult me the whole time you were getting fucked senseless. You humiliated me in front of them, insulting me! You think that's fair?"

"I...I said I was sorry," she mumbled.

"Sorry doesn't cut it. You know what I tell Linda, my intern, about you? That you're the most loving, most beautiful woman I know. You had to go and make a liar out of me. That business with threatening me with divorce, taking everything? Do you recognize how stupid that is yet?"

She nodded. "I didn't know. I thought..."

"You thought you knew more than I did? More about divorce than anyone in my firm? You think I make the money I do because I'm an idiot?"

She shook her head.

"What's going to happen to me?" she whined. "I have nothing, nowhere to stay, half my friends are divorced and the others won't speak to me. They all blame me for upsetting the apple cart. What am I supposed to do now?" The tears had started, and were dripping down her face.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I want it back the way it was. Before. Please, honey, I...I'll do anything to get you back. Don't destroy me. It was a stupid mistake, made in anger. I'm sorry."

"Julie, you're a beautiful woman, and you're far from stupid. You finished college for God's sake, although your bachelor's in political science from the University of Bumfuck ain't gonna do much. You could get a job, support yourself."

"NO! I love you. I want us to be together. I screwed up, Ok? I disrespected you but I was angry. I won't do it again."

"You cheated on me, Julie."

"You said I could," she argued weekly.

I pulled out the pictures of her array of lovers in France. "You're saying I approved of this?"

She gasped, shook her head slowly, and the waterworks started again. Maybe she finally realized how bad it was.

"Something, baby. Something for our years together. Please? To help me get back on my feet," she pleaded mournfully.

I pulled out the manila envelope and passed it to her. Her hands were shaking as she opened it. The keys to her Jag fell out, as did some papers and an envelope. She started reading the papers. "What's this?"

"One year lease on an apartment. You sign the lease, and I'll pay it up front."

She nodded, and opened the bulging envelope. The green of the bills was immediately evident.

"How...how much?" she asked.

"Two thousand in there. Twenty 100's. A check for another eight grand. For the next year, every month, you'll get another two-thousand. It's enough to live on, since you don't have to pay rent. The Jag is paid off, and I've paid up the insurance for a year."

"Thank you," she said softly. "So this is it?"

"If you sign the divorce papers, that's it."

"And if I don't?"

"I'll do my best to destroy you. I don't care what it costs."

"No other choice? No chance for us at all? I...I love you, you know. I was stupid, and angry, and selfish, but I love you. I'm sorry, and would do anything to make it up to you, if you would only give me another chance."

I pulled out the second manila envelope, and passed it to her.

She read it over. "I don't understand."

"It's quite simple, really. Another chance. A post-nuptial agreement. If you ever cheat on me again, you leave with nothing. Zero. If you initiate divorce proceedings against me, within the next two years, you get nothing. After that, you get an apartment paid for, the payments to be for as long as we were married. Four thousand a month, for every month we were together. An additional lump sum of $20K for each anniversary, after you sign."

"And if you divorce me?"

"For anything other than adultery, exactly double what you get if you initiate it."

Her hands were shaking as she read what was written. "What's this about kids?" she asked.

"If we divorce for anything other than adultery, we will have joint custody of the children, and you'll get a lump sum of $100K for each child, to make sure you can take care of them properly."

She nodded slowly, turning the pages. "This...termination?"

"Once any of our children reach the age of 18, everything becomes 50/50, except I keep the house, which was mine when we got married. We'll share joint custody of any minor children. I'll pay you maintenance, of an additional 20% of my income, unless you get married again or cohabitate for longer than three months, then it's terminated."

"What's the catch?" she asked, nervously.

"It's pretty clear, I hope. You sign this, I take you back and we move forward with our lives. You cheat on me again, and I leave you destitute."

"What if you cheat?" she asked. "Again."

"You can divorce me if you like."

"This isn't fair," she whined.

"Don't sign it. Take the first deal."

She closed her eyes, leaning back, crossing her arms. "It's not fair," she finally whined.

"Let's talk about 'fair' Julie. Let's discuss each other's roles in this marriage. What do you think my responsibilities are?"

"You provide for us, you love me, you stay faithful to me," she said, quite succinctly, I might add.

"And your role?"

"I keep our home, I love you, I stay faithful to you."

"So let me understand. I work my ass off, 60-70 hours a week, so I can provide you with everything you could desire. Big house, nice car, designer clothes, club membership, tennis lessons, spending money. You do nothing, except take care of yourself."

"I do a lot," she snapped.

"You don't clean, you don't cook, you don't pay the bills, you don't do anything except spend my money, spoil yourself, and show me a little love and affection. Very little as of late."

"That's not fair," she whined.

I was getting tired of it. "You need to shut the fuck up about what's fair, or get out of my house!" I snapped at her.

She shut up. I gave her a few seconds to see how stupid she'd be. She stayed quiet. I never said she was a total idiot.

"Let me tell you how I see our roles. I work my ass off for us. I provide for you very well. I take the seven years of education, and the four more years of working myself half-to-death, and make sure we live the good life. I love you, and I pamper you. I have a very difficult, stressful job, but I don't complain because I love making you happy."

She watched me carefully, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"You on the other hand, have only one role in this marriage. One. Perhaps in the future, if we have children that will change, but for now, it's pretty simple."

"And that is?" she asked.

"Make me happy. That's all you have to do. Keep me happy, and I'll take care of you, pamper you, give you a life you could never have on your own."

She just looked at me.

"Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"How happy do you think you made me in the last few weeks?"

"But you cheated on me!"

"That's not what I asked. Answer the damn question you ignorant slut!"

"Not very, I guess," she said after an interminable wait.

"That's right. Not happy at all." I moved closer to her and took her hand. "I screwed up. I should have told you about my stress, and what I was doing to relieve it. Maybe you could have come to the office every day, and taken care of it, if you could drag yourself away from your tennis lessons."

She had the decency to blush.

"I did wrong. Foolishly, I told you could have a revenge fuck, in order to even things up. It was stupid, but I believed you loved me, and wouldn't do it. All I got was a lousy blowjob. A couple of quick minutes and back to work, so you could live the life you love so much. But that wasn't enough for you, was it? You didn't want to get even, you wanted to pay me back. Double. You didn't get laid discretely. You got the two biggest dicks you could find, had bareback sex, risking both of our lives, let them come in you, and did your best to insult and humiliate me. So let's not talk about fair, shall we?"