She took special pleasure in thrashing him once a week; having removed his cage before the cane was administered, she would delight in seeing him come...as he squirmed under the cane. His last trip to the execution room had been deeply satisfying for all who witnessed it; the once cruel and pompous male had been brought whimpering through the black door by nurses who had donned black silk gowns and not plugged his asshole on this occasion. The grinning women remained deathly silent throughout,. She colored up and I knew I had made a mistake. But she gritted her teeth for some reason, and answered the question."Once every three or four months," she said tightly."Oh," I said, thoroughly trashing my pledge that I wasn't going to judge anything."We go to church more often than we make love," she said. I looked up to see her blushing more furiously and realized she hadn't meant to say that out loud."Well, like you said," I tried to comfort her, "He IS very busy." You're very kind," she. Her final plea, to love and respect her for the rest of our lives, was so incredibly powerful. I had no idea if she’d rehearsed that speech; even if I’d been reeling from the actual words, I could still sense the ... desperation? – no, the commitment? – maybe – perhaps the need? Oh hell and double hell!I fell back onto the only similar situation I could recall. “I guess this is like that old British movie with Julia Roberts, you know, Notting Hill, where she’s the famous Hollywood actress. “Can’t blame him.” She leaned over and kissed me again, “Why don’t you make some tea for us and a coffee for Abe?” she asked. “Abe takes two sugars.” Another cuckold ritual was now facing me. Taking your wife and her lover a cup of tea or coffee next morning was another humiliation that cuckolds get put through. Many times I have read about the cuckold doing this, now it was my turn. At least I wasn’t going to be faced with the aftermath of a night of sex. Trish got up and went back to the.