Why I Hide My Cheating

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Abstract

eing. How intoxicating was it to be revered!</p><p id="3cc6">On top of being paid extremely good for doing this — I mean, let’s face it. It’s practically extortion — it boosted my confidence ten fold. When I reached the point of no return and had taken bondage and discipline as far as it could go, I pushed it further. As I wanted this exhilarating feeling of dominance 24/7, I had my slave sell his house and move in with us. Yes. Really.</p><p id="fb54">So now, I had two men, totally in love with me, whom I used and abused, physically and emotionally, with little to no consideration for their feelings. I didn’t care how they felt about one another. I didn’t care how they felt when I was going to fuck other guys. I simply didn’t care.</p><p id="1e37"><i>Why should I? They agreed to it, no? They both were grown ass men who had the choice to stay or leave. They stay? Then it’s my way or the highway.</i></p><p id="ff59">While that was true on the surface, I found out years later that the damage my behavior had done to both these guys was irreparable. I had to live with the consequences of my actions and I had to admit that I had chosen to be “honest” not because I didn’t want to lie, but because I didn’t want the guilt. I was honest to clear my conscience from guilt and wash my hands from the consequences that would ensue. I eventually left both of them, leaving behind a hell of a mess that took years to fix.</p><p id="901e">And the guilt? Well, it eventually found me anyway.</p><p id="d297">This time, with this second marriage, I chose to be dishonest. You can judge all you want — I’m doing this to protect him. I trust that what he doesn’t know will not hurt him.</p><figure id="c86c"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*a3agRKGMQ6dY3e78nrSabA.png"><figcaption></figcap

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Is Honesty Really The Best Policy?

photo: pixabay

I’ve been on both sides of the fence. One side is not better than the other.My first marriage was a fail. An open fail.

Despite the fact that we allowed each other to venture out and were honest about it, it was a disaster waiting to happen from the get go.

He was 16 years my elder, yet in many ways, he was still like a teenager. I was a phone sex operator at the time and met him on the job. Our first encounter was wild and crazy.

He left a boring monogamous relationship to be with me.

He was seriously addicted to porn, so I don’t know why, shortly after we moved in together, I was surprised when I caught him jerking off talking to another girl.

I used that as a pretext to be “honest” and demanded we open the relationship.

But it wasn’t open. While I was running around changing lovers like I did underwear, he remained physically faithful. He didn’t want to risk losing me, so he confined himself to the limits of watching hard core porn and having phone sex. I can only imagine how unhappy he was from how selfish I was.

Having lovers was not enough for me.

I was super insecure at that point in my life and found my reassurance in the utter and complete infatuation of other men. I needed more. I needed someone who would devote his entire existence to worshiping me. I found S&M at that point, and got really addicted to the power it gave me over another human being. How intoxicating was it to be revered!

On top of being paid extremely good for doing this — I mean, let’s face it. It’s practically extortion — it boosted my confidence ten fold. When I reached the point of no return and had taken bondage and discipline as far as it could go, I pushed it further. As I wanted this exhilarating feeling of dominance 24/7, I had my slave sell his house and move in with us. Yes. Really.

So now, I had two men, totally in love with me, whom I used and abused, physically and emotionally, with little to no consideration for their feelings. I didn’t care how they felt about one another. I didn’t care how they felt when I was going to fuck other guys. I simply didn’t care.

Why should I? They agreed to it, no? They both were grown ass men who had the choice to stay or leave. They stay? Then it’s my way or the highway.

While that was true on the surface, I found out years later that the damage my behavior had done to both these guys was irreparable. I had to live with the consequences of my actions and I had to admit that I had chosen to be “honest” not because I didn’t want to lie, but because I didn’t want the guilt. I was honest to clear my conscience from guilt and wash my hands from the consequences that would ensue. I eventually left both of them, leaving behind a hell of a mess that took years to fix.

And the guilt? Well, it eventually found me anyway.

This time, with this second marriage, I chose to be dishonest. You can judge all you want — I’m doing this to protect him. I trust that what he doesn’t know will not hurt him.