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Marriage Rehab

Facing up to the consequences of cheating with help from a professional.
I am lying naked, on a cot, in a jail cell, if jail cells are ever pure white. Well, almost pure white. There are four black video screens on one wall. As the only non-white things in the room, they attract the eye.

There is a large screen in the middle. It is at the eye level of someone seated in the room's only chair. The other screens are on both sides and above it. The cell also has a cot, a toilet, a sink, and a door with a small view port and a small slot at the floor, presumably for the passage of meals, which I hope are not pure white.

I contemplate how I got here. I was having a drink in a hotel bar while waiting for my lover to arrive. I received a text message from a number I didn't recognize. 'Your lover has been detained. We know about your infidelity. Do we have your attention?'

My blood curdled in my veins. How could I possibly answer this. I dared to hope it was a wrong number, even though the circumstances were suspicious. I answered, '???'

The next message took away my hope. 'SilkyLegs, your husband will soon be told about MisterSilk. Nothing you can do will prevent that.'

Oh shit! I look around the bar, certain that I must be under observation and equally certain that I must look as guilty as I am. 'You have my attention.'

'You have two options. Cooperate or don't.'

I send, 'Define cooperate.'

'Think of it as rehab for unfaithful spouses. Rehab of your marriage.'

'This is extortion.'

'No, we are not offering to prevent or postpone your husband's discovery. This is to offer an option for recovery from that.'

I desperately want to be somewhere else, doing something else. I think of a third option. I send, 'suicide'.

'People who lie, cheat and steal don't have enough honor for that.'

Wow! If I thought I would get any slack by threatening that, I was mistaken. This guy must have a heart of ice.

I send, 'So what is this? An Intervention?'

'Yes, that is a good description, if you add "by proxy".'

'Who are you?'

'Nobody you know.'

'Why are you doing this?'

'To give you the option of cooperation.'

'What does cooperation mean.'

'Like rehab, once you're in, you're in for the duration. You try to salvage what you can.'

'Why should I trust you?'

'Your husband will either hear that you agreed to cooperate or he'll hear that you refused. It doesn't matter to us.'

'Us?'

'You are postponing. Your window for cooperating is closing.'

It was a bitter choice, but I know my husband. Assuming he had remained faithful to our vows, he would feel betrayed and unable to trust me, ever again, unless I took the steps to save our marriage. Whoever this guy was, his 'option' was better than any I could think of.

'I'll cooperate.'

Per the instructions that followed, I went to my car in the hotel parking garage, found a black hood on the windshield, put it on, and waited. A vehicle pulled up and somebody with a smirk in her voice said, "Somebody waiting for a bus to marriage rehab?"

I did not appreciate the humor, but I took some solace in the fact that it was a woman and that she didn't sound hostile. She helped me into what I sensed was a van and drove me away from the hotel. Beyond that, I could not tell where we went. I tried to engage her in conversation, but all she would say is that her job was to deliver me safely. When we stopped, I sensed that we were once again in a parking garage. Being indoors, and knowing this was probably done away from public view, helped reduce the impression that I was doing a 'perp walk'.

She helped me out and guided me down a hallway, into an elevator, down another hallway and through a door.

"You may remove the hood now."

The door closed long before I got the hood off. The next thing I heard was her voice through a speaker. She ordered me to undress and put my clothing and jewelry on the tray beneath the door. Her last comment was, "You might want to wash off that slut makeup and look as pitiful as you can. It sometimes helps."

As I was washing, the tray was pulled out beneath the door. I look around the room. I try the door. As expected, it is locked. I look out through the view port and see only a white wall across a hallway. I look out through the slot under the door and see only a white wall meeting a white floor across the hallway.

I slap my hand on the door and hear only a flat thump. I try to move the cot and find that it is attached to the floor. The chair is, also. The screens are attached firmly to the wall. Other than the roll of toilet paper and my own body, there is nothing in the room that I can move from one place to another.

I hear a woman's voice calling my name. "Jenn-nee." I notice that the center screen is now on, so I sit in the chair. It has armrests and is quite comfortable. I will not be physically suffering while viewing the screens. I see an attractive woman wearing a smart business suit. She has what looks like an earphone in one ear. She is sitting at an office desk, looking to the side at me. She has auburn hair, fair skin and a slender build. I recognize her from the bar. She must have been observing me, but I did not see her texting. She smiles and says, "I am sorry for what's about to happen to you."

"Please don't do this to me."

"I can see you, but I can't hear you. You may leave at any time, but if you value your marriage, you will stay and see this through. You know that we know about your lover. We are about to inform your husband."

'No!', I shout.

"As you've already been told, nothing you can say or do will prevent that. We believe we are preempting an inevitable discovery. We want to control the circumstances of the discovery. Once again, I am sorry. We do this to help you recover from your mistakes. If you cooperate, your marriage has a better chance. Your husband will be here soon. Please nod if you wish to continue."

I am caught in my own web of deception. I cannot bear the thought of losing my husband. I look at the door and reconsider leaving. I choose not to. I look back at the screen and I nod.

She turns away and taps a key on the keyboard in front of her. I sense that she can no longer see me. I sit back and think about how I got to this point. I think about my lover and what he must be thinking, now that he has not found me at the hotel bar. I reminisce about the private moments I have spent with him and realize those days are probably over, but I also acknowledge that they were not all that great.

I hear a knock and she says, "Come in." and stands. My husband enters the room. I try to shout to him, but it is clear he cannot hear or see me. She must have turned off the monitor on her end.

She offers her hand and says, "Thank you for coming, Mr. Randall. My name is Cindy Thomas. Please have a seat."

Mitch shakes her hand and looks around as he sits. He glances over toward me, but it is clear he does not see the camera that is sending his image to me. "Thanks, this is the first time I've been in one of these short term office rentals."

"I wish the circumstances were different, Sir, but we find these to be very suitable for our purposes. Before we get started, please check your email. There should be a recent message from your employer."

I watch as Mitch checks his smart phone. "Hmm. You're right. My trip is canceled and it looks like I'm to take this meeting very seriously. You mentioned purposes?"

"Thank you, Sir. Yes, one of those is the delivery of unfortunate news."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Sir. My company is contracted by your employer to provide executive employee monitoring services. In short, we keep tabs on you and the other high level employees of your firm, to protect the firm from scandal and other losses."

"This sounds serious. Am I being investigated for something?"

"No, Sir. Should you be?"

"What? No."

Cindy pauses and then says, "Thank you, Sir. Our sensors indicate that you are telling the truth. Part of our duty is to monitor the families of the executives. An employee can be compromised, virtually useless to his employer for at least some time, if certain situations occur. One of those situations is divorce."

"Jenny is divorcing me?"

"No, Sir. We've found nothing to indicate that."

A yawning pit suddenly opens in my stomach. Was Mitch already planning to divorce me?

"Then why am I here."

"Please be patient, Sir. This is not pleasant. The problem, is that we've detected behavior that might lead to severe marital strife. Are you aware of your wife's online habits?"

"What? No. What online habits?"

"Specifically, Sir, her association with sexually oriented websites."

"No! That's news to me. I don't pry into her computer."

"We thought that to be the case. She favors one site in particular. It is probably the most popular website for erotic stories, but it also has forums and chats and quite a bit of cyber sex occurs."

I never should have joined that site. I found it addicting. The stories opened my eyes to all the rich sexual variety that others enjoy, or at least fantasize about. My fantasies became so much richer and the chat rooms gave me people to talk to while my husband was away.

"Cyber sex?"

"Chatting about sexual acts, sometimes accompanied by actual masturbation. Some of the participants take it to the next level and meet their online lovers in person. Forgive me for this, Sir, it is the worst part of my job. Your wife has been having an affair with a man she met on this site. We normally don't get involved when such romances remain online only. We step in only after direct physical infidelity has occurred and only when we believe it would devastate our client's employee and compromise his, or her, ability to perform their job."

Mitch looks as pale as I feel.

"Jenny? No, I can't believe it."

"Sir, we would not inform you of this without documentation. We believe we have a complete history of their interactions. Her online persona is SilkyLegs."

"That's my special name for her. She used that to....?"

The other three screens come to life and I see this documentation. Slow scrolls of chats show on the left screen. Photos I exchanged with MisterSilk become a slide show on the right. The screen above runs a video we stupidly made during our first tryst. I don't know how she got that, but I feel most violated. I know that I am caught.

"The documentation is all here, Sir. It's our role to offer options to our clients. You may look at it or not. It's your choice."

"I won't believe it if I don't see some proof."

I watch as he peruses a laptop screen. My right monitor now shows the display of the laptop and I see him flinch as each piece of damning evidence appears on the screen.

"Are you convinced, Sir?"

"Yes."

He sounds like a crushed man. I hurt worse than I have ever hurt before and I sense that this is only the beginning of my pain.

"Forgive me, Sir. I have some questions to ask now. They might help to put your future in perspective. Have you ever cheated on her?"

"No. Absolutely not."

Again the pause, and then, "Thank you, Sir. Our sensors indicate that you are telling the truth. Have you ever thought about cheating on her."

"No, um. No."

"Sir, our sensors indicate an incomplete answer."

"Okay, I've been to some, uh, gentleman's clubs and I've seen some dancers... strippers. But never even a lap dance. I have fantasies about women, especially when I travel, but that's it. Just fantasies."

Compared to me, he sounds like such a boy scout. The fact that his conscience bothers him because of these escapades indicts me all the more.

"Thank you, Sir. Our sensors indicate that you are telling the truth. Please understand, Sir, it is not our goal to destroy marriages. We seek to hold them together when possible, and mitigate the effects of inevitable discoveries. We believe you were on a course that would result in extensive damage to your ability to function in your job."

"This is private stuff. You have no right."

"I'm sorry, Sir. This is within your employment agreement. As an executive employee, both you and your wife signed away certain rights. It's fairly standard for corporate executives."

"We thought those were all about financial records."

"I'm sorry, Sir. Your employer has a right to attempt to avoid scandal and decreases in your productivity. Just a few more questions. Have your fantasies ever included sharing your wife with another man or being cuckolded."

"What? No! Hell no!"

"I'm sorry, Sir. It's important that I ask these questions. Opening lines of communication is a key to salvaging a marriage. Our sensors indicate that you are being both truthful and hesitant. May I ask about the hesitation."

"This is very private."

"Yes, Sir, it is. May I remind you that you have been under surveillance as well?"

"What's that supposed to mea...?"

Yes, Mitch. What is that supposed to mean? I so badly want to be asking these questions. I sense the shifting power and I want to stem my losses. This woman is driving my guilt home to me, but she is also prying open his mind so that I may discover where I stand with him.

"Sir. I am aware of your web surfing habits."

"Oh. Then you know. I enjoy viewing male-female-female and female-male-female porn. I have had fantasies of seeing my wife with another woman while I participate."

"Thank you, Sir. So these fantasies include you 'participating' with both women?"

He looks particularly embarrassed now. "Yes."

"Thank you, Sir. Any other fantasies about extra-marital sex?"

"No, that's it."

"Thank you, Sir. Would you be opposed to your wife having a female lover?"

This question shocks me. I have had cyber sex with other women. I can barely breathe as I await his answer.

"No, I suppose not. A woman could provide her with something that I can't. I wouldn't deny her that."

"Thank you, Sir. Our sensors indicate that you are telling the truth. Have you had any fantasies about having sex with men?

"I have thought about it. I've become aroused thinking about it. But my fantasies always revert to women for... the happy ending."

I see great embarrassment in him now. He has just admitted to another woman that he masturbates.

"Thank you for your candor, Sir. Our sensors indicate that you are telling the truth. I have no more questions."

I grasp what has happened. This woman has caused both sets of dirty laundry to be exposed. I am clearly the one who has strayed the furthest and crossed the most forbidden lines. But I sense opportunity. If she knows as much about me as it seems she does, she knows about my FF, MFF and FMF fantasies.

"How could she do...?"

"Sir, you have my sympathies, but I am here to help you focus on the future, not the past."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Well, Sir. We have experience helping couples in your situation to reconcile their differences. I offer services to help with that."

"What could you offer that would help with this?"

"Sir, the first such service is confrontation management. Your wife is viewing and listening to this in a remote location. You might say that we intercepted her on her way to a tryst. She was planning to spend two nights with her lover."

"You kidnapped her? What makes you think she won't sue my company or you, or even send you to prison."

"Sir, we only intercepted her. She is free to go, but she has chosen to stay, to accept our help in rehabilitating your relationship. Should either of you wish to pursue legal action against us, we think it's unlikely that you'll find a law we've broken. We're very careful about contracts and records. But we recognize the danger of even being associated with such an activity. Your employer will deny hiring any company to perform this service. My company will become untraceable soon after we release her.

"Back to the services we offer. If you wish, we can see her on this monitor. As the aggrieved party and our client's employee, you can speak to her, but we will not hear her. This will be your opportunity to say what you want. She will be able to communicate only through gestures. Shall I?"

I am panicking now. I don't want this to happen, but I don't want to lose him.

"Yes, I'll see her."

I don't see that I have any better option. It is time to begin facing the music. I remain seated. I can tell immediately when their screen comes on. Mitch is looking slightly below the camera that is showing him to me.

"Jenny! Gees, you're naked. Are you okay."

I nod affirmatively.

"Why, Jenny? Why did you do this?"

I know that I look guilty and all I can do is mouth, "I am sorry."

"Sir, I remind you that we can't hear her. You can end this at any time and say anything you want to say, but if you ask questions that she can answer with gestures, you'll get better answers."

"Do you want a divorce?"

His question startles me. I shake my head.

"Can you think of any reason I shouldn't divorce you?"

I shrug and shake my head. I truly cannot.

"Can you think of any reason I should give you another chance?"

I shamefully shrug again and start crying. I shake my head.

"Did you want to hurt me like this."

"No! Mitch, I never wanted to hurt you." I know he cannot hear me, but I say it so adamantly as I shake my head that I know he sees my sincerity. I truly did not want to hurt him. I just got lonely and made a mistake.

We have a great life together, except for his frequent business travel. But I cannot use that as an excuse. We have a beautiful house, we are fairly affluent and we have a good path to an easy retirement. Those are all things I wanted. I encouraged him to take opportunities that would bring us those, knowing it would mean more business travel. Now I feel them all slipping away. Now I just want forgiveness and a second chance.

Mitch looks at Cindy as if he is a lost little boy. He says something that sounds like, "What now?", and I realize that he is done talking to me without outside guidance.

"Sir, the reason a woman is having this meeting with you is because I can take some of the inequality out of this situation. It would be natural for you to want revenge, but as a woman, I can help you turn that urge into retribution. You're familiar with the difference?"

"Yes, she'll give something she may not want to give. Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

Of course she is, Mitch, and she is driving a knife into my heart. I think she might leave this decision entirely up to him, but then she surprises me.

"Sir, if both of you agree, I can do with you all the things she did with her lover. I am a professional. We won't have the heart-to-heart connection that she may have with her lover, but her agreement will indicate that you both have a good chance of salvaging your marriage. She would be watching us the whole time. She would be seeing the same acts that you saw, and feeling the same hurts that you felt.

"We would turn this monitor off, so you won't have to see the impact on her. Our experience shows that this method produces a high rate of marital survival and a lower amount of animosity in the event the marriage fails."

I see the value of giving me this choice. A second chance will cost me. Forgiveness will come easier if I accept this. Mitch looks right at the camera, right into my eyes. I raise my eyes and finally see the small camera lens. I cannot believe I am doing this, but I look directly into it and nod.

"Jenny, are you absolutely sure?"

The tears are flowing freely now and I get up and get some toilet tissue. When I return, I wipe my eyes and nod again. I see Cindy press down on the keypad of her laptop and I know that the monitor on their end has gone out.

"Sir, we can start here if you like, then adjourn to a hotel for the night and morning. We will have dinner, breakfast, and lunch together. We should be finished by mid afternoon tomorrow and when we are, you wife will be released. You needn't worry about her care. She will be well fed and physically comfortable."

"Twenty-four hours? I thought this would be a one-and-done. I don't think Jenny understood what she was agreeing to. I certainly didn't."

"I'm sorry, Sir. I thought I was clear. It will take some time to do everything she did with him. This may sound cruel, but it will be better for her, and for you, if she endures more than a single episode of retribution. If you would like, we can confirm her agreement."

"Yes, please."

She presses her keyboard again and I can tell that their screen is back on.

"Jenny? Can you bear a whole day."

I nod my head and count on my fingers. 'Yes, Mitch. One day. Two days. Three days. As long as it takes. I love you.' I hope that he is able to read my lips, to know the depth of my commitment to us.

"I don't know about this, Jenny. I'm thinking of calling it off."

No! I shake my head and, lacking any better option for expression, I drop to my knees and look right into the camera. I raise my hands to the prayer position and beg. 'Please, Mitch. Please do this. I do not want to lose you.'

I cannot express how much it hurts to do and say all this. I look to the monitor and see him looking into his camera. He nods and looks away, to Cindy, as do I. She is looking right into their camera and I see something I do not expect. She has a look of sympathy and... respect. I look back into my camera and nod. Again, she switches their monitor off.

"What now?"

"Well, Sir, I have a list of all she has done physically with her lover. Of course, you are not required to do everything on the list. I am willing, though. And the more we do, the more changed your relationship with your wife will be. The first item on the list is fellatio. May I suck your cock?"

Those words hit me hard. I had not performed that act for Mitch in years and yet it was the first sex act with my lover. I watch as she begins to undress and reveal her beautiful body. She is a little younger than me, in her early thirties, and it shows in her beautiful body. At 36, I am past my peak. Mitch, at 38, is still becoming increasingly handsome.

He begins to undress and I see how much he admires Cindy's body. She dons a headset and drops to her knees. The main screen view shifts to what must be a camera in the headset. The other three screens switch to cameras in the room that show both of them. I am treated to a closeup view of his cock as she pulls his boxers down.

I am seated again and see that he is completely flaccid. I think that he may fail to harden due to the stress of the situation, but she must have excellent technique. He is soon hard and and clearly enjoying it. He warns her that he is about to come. She does not hesitate to swallow the first shot of his cum, and to smear some from the next squirts around her face.

"Shall we go to the hotel now, Sir?"

"No, not yet. Item two on the list."

Cindy seems quite surprised. "It would be my pleasure, Sir."

"That is my hope."

With those four words, I know that my husband has made a statement directly to both of us. He sits back down in his chair. She sits up on the desk. His face goes between her thighs. My hand goes between mine. She looks down and I see his tongue emerge and part the lips of her smoothly shaved cunt..

He knows how to lick pussy. He is much better at it than MisterSilk. I have not let Mitch do this for me since my first night of infidelity, even though I know he enjoys pleasing me this way. After the first tryst, I thought that I wanted to feed my lover's cum to him from my pussy, but I discovered that I could not. The guilt that I felt prevented me. I knew that Mitch did not deserve that dishonor. Even after I had cleaned myself, I felt tainted.

Now he is honoring the femininity of a stranger. Through one camera, I note that he is still wearing his wedding ring, just as I did while making love to... no, having sex with another man. I have to believe that Mitch is not making love to Cindy. I have to stop trying to make my time with MisterSilk into something it wasn't. The sounds that begin to emerge from her tell me that he is not holding back. I pretend that I am the recipient of his attentions as my fingers enter my folds and bring me along at the pace of her gasps and moans.

She experiences, with great appreciation, the gradual buildup that I have always loved. As her orgasm gets close, her legs drift off the desk and float around. Her hips shudder as he delivers the strokes I know so well. She comes and I am so close, but my orgasm eludes me.

I close my eyes as he continues to pleasure her. I begin to imagine, to see in my mind's eye, other possibilities; me licking her pussy, her licking mine, Mitch licking hers while she licks mine. I get closer, right on the edge of coming, as I hear her second orgasm approaching, but I need something more.

I slide off the chair to my knees and begin spanking my ass with one hand, imagining that Mitch is spanking me, I change hands and now it is Cindy spanking me while Mitch is fucking her. I drop to the floor on my belly, humping my pussy against my hand, relishing the pain of my burning ass. Finally, I come as Cindy's second climax bursts from her. Judging from the alternating plaintive and ecstatic notes in her song of lust, it is better than her first. I realize that mine is the best I've had since my affair began. It is the first since then that is free of guilt.

Mitch asks, "Are you okay?", and I believe that Cindy has had La Petite Mort. I envy her so much at that moment as my first orgasm fades away. I know that she will be high from that for hours, possibly days.

I realize that my release came when I began to forgive myself. The pain from the spanking and the suffering from knowing my man was giving away the pleasure I had reserved for myself, and with my permission, allowed me to feel that I deserved an orgasm from my own effort. I start to hope that over the next day, I will begin to feel that I can become worthy of remaining in our marriage and having sex with my husband without feeling guilty.

When Cindy speaks again, her facade slips briefly. "Oh-my-fuckin'-god-that-was-incredible! Uh, thank you, Sir." I know that he has captured her as he once captured me, and I cling desperately to the hope that I have done the right thing, that he will release her when the time comes, and allow me to remain.

"You really don't need to keep calling me Sir, Cindy."

"Please, Sir. It is both my nature and my professional duty. My client is your employer, but you, and your wife, are in my care. I am told that she enjoyed the show. Shall we go to the hotel now?"

"Sure."

Of course I guessed that I am under observation. I see Mitch smile at being informed of my enjoyment. I also suspect that my actions and reactions are being recorded and I hope he will see them.. Other than what I have seen of Cindy and heard from the van driver, I do not know anything about my jailers, but I feel no fear, and less shame at being witnessed masturbating and punishing myself, than I felt at being caught cheating. I feel hope that Mitch and I will weather the storms of emotions that lie ahead for us.

The outer screens go dark as my husband and his lover leave the office, but the center screen remains on with the video feed from the headset as Mitch escorts Cindy out to the cab stand. He opens doors for her and otherwise treats her as a lover should be treated.

 I vow never to see MisterSilk again. Whatever made me think I could find anything worth having in the carnal embrace of another man is now gone. My thoughts turn to pleasures I can offer to Mitch, and to myself with his permission.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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