Bedroom Time

The bedroom was a sanctuary of marital intimacy—a space that, until now, had been shared only between Tori and Damien. Family photos adorned the nightstands, including their wedding portrait. The king-sized bed was neatly made with expensive-looking sheets, and Damien's cologne sat on the dresser alongside Tori's perfumes.

George took it all in with a sick sense of triumph. This was the ultimate violation—not just of Tori's body, but of her marriage itself. He was about to defile the very space where she and her husband shared their most intimate moments, and his perverted mind relished the transgression.

"Phase Four is the marital fidelity stress test," George explained, removing the towel from his waist and tossing it carelessly onto the clean carpet. His flaccid cock hung between his fat thighs, still sticky from their previous activities. "It measures how your body responds to non-spouse stimulation in your primary intimate environment."

Tori stood naked and shivering just inside the doorway, her eyes fixed on the wedding photo on the nightstand. "This is wrong," she whispered. "Damien and I... this is our space."

"That's precisely why this location is crucial for the final phase," George countered, his tone clinically detached despite the depravity of his intentions. "True infidelity isn't just physical—it's the violation of intimate trust. This test will determine whether you're capable of such a violation."

He gestured toward the bed. "Lie down in the center, arms and legs spread. Standard inspection position."

Tori moved reluctantly toward the bed, each step feeling like a betrayal of her marriage vows. As she climbed onto the mattress and assumed the position George had commanded, tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.

"Please," she begged one last time. "We've done enough testing. You must have all the information you need by now."

George shook his head solemnly. "The progression of responses throughout the inspection has revealed concerning patterns. This final phase is absolutely necessary to determine whether remedial action is possible or if your marriage is already compromised beyond repair."

He climbed onto the bed, his excessive weight causing the mattress to dip dramatically. His naked body, with its rolls of pale fat and patchy hair, was a stark contrast to Damien's fit physique. The very wrongness of it made George's cock begin to harden again as he positioned himself between Tori's unwillingly spread legs.

"Phase Four begins with a baseline measurement of vaginal response in the marital setting," he announced, lowering his bulk until he was hovering over her. "Previous phases indicated high susceptibility to non-spouse penetration. We must determine if this susceptibility increases or decreases in your primary intimate environment."

Without further warning, he thrust forward, burying his cock in her pussy in one smooth motion. Tori gasped, her back arching off the bed at the sudden invasion.

"Interesting," George commented, beginning to move in a steady rhythm. "Initial penetration resistance is lower than in Phase Two, suggesting increased acceptance of infidelity in the marital space."

"No," Tori protested weakly, turning her face away from him. "It's not that. You've already... my body is just..."

"Justifications are common among high-risk subjects," George dismissed her explanation. "The physical evidence is what matters, and your body is accepting me more readily in your marital bed than it did in your living room. That's a critical indicator."

He increased his pace, driving into her with enough **** to make the headboard tap against the wall. The sound was a perverse mockery of the passionate lovemaking that usually took place in this bed.

"Do you and Damien engage in vigorous intercourse like this?" George asked, his voice strained with exertion.

Tori didn't answer, keeping her face turned away, her eyes squeezed shut as if she could make this nightmare disappear by not looking at it.

"Your silence suggests sexual dissatisfaction in your marriage," George concluded, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. "Open your eyes. Visual engagement is required for accurate assessment."

When she reluctantly opened her eyes, George was struck by the depth of emotion he saw there—shame, confusion, anger, and most disturbingly, a hint of unwanted arousal. His powers were working their insidious magic, making her body respond despite her mental resistance.

"The inspection requires testing all positions commonly associated with infidelity scenarios," George announced, suddenly withdrawing and flipping Tori onto her stomach. "Assume the posterior entry position."

He roughly pulled her hips upward until she was on her knees, her face pressed into the pillows that smelled of her husband's cologne. The position was deliberately degrading, making her feel like an animal being mounted.

"This position is frequently employed in illicit encounters due to its primal nature," George informed her, positioning himself behind her again. "Acceptance of this position in the marital bed is a significant infidelity marker."

He thrust forward again, entering her from behind with brutal ****. Tori's muffled cry was absorbed by the pillows as George established a punishing rhythm, his heavy balls slapping against her with each thrust.

"Your vaginal lubrication is increasing," he observed, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips. "Physical arousal in response to animalistic mounting by a non-spouse individual—extremely concerning."

Tori couldn't deny the wetness between her legs, though she knew it was just her body's mechanical response to stimulation, not genuine desire. Still, the disconnect between her mind and body was disorienting, making her question herself in exactly the way George intended.

"Vocalize your experience," George commanded, delivering a sharp slap to her buttock. "Verbal response analysis is part of the protocol."

"I—AHH!—I don't want this," Tori gasped between thrusts.

"Your verbal response contradicts your physical response," George pointed out, reaching around to roughly squeeze her breast. "This cognitive dissonance is itself a risk factor for infidelity. When the body wants what the mind denies, inhibitions eventually erode."

He continued pounding into her, each thrust driving her face deeper into the pillows that carried her husband's scent. The juxtaposition of Damien's familiar smell and the feeling of another man violating her was psychologically devastating.

"The inspection now requires testing your capacity for marital betrayal through simultaneous environmental and physical stimulation," George announced, reaching for something on the nightstand.

To Tori's horror, he grabbed the framed wedding photo and held it where she could see it. "Look at this while I continue the inspection," he demanded.

**** to stare at the happiest day of her life while being violated by this disgusting stranger, Tori broke down completely, sobbing into the pillows as George continued his relentless **** on her body and mind.

"Your emotional response indicates awareness of transgression," George noted with mock professionalism, "yet your body continues to accept non-spouse penetration. This split consciousness is the essence of infidelity potential."

He placed the photo back on the nightstand but positioned it so that it faced the bed, as if Damien's smiling image was witnessing his wife's violation.

"The final component of Phase Four requires testing your ultimate fidelity threshold," George announced, withdrawing from her pussy. His cock, slick with her unwilling arousal, pressed against her ass again. "Anal penetration in the marital bed represents the highest level of intimate betrayal."

"Please, not again," Tori begged, her voice ragged from crying. "We already did that test."

"In a neutral location," George corrected her. "The marital environment changes the psychological dynamics significantly. For complete accuracy, we must replicate all previous tests in this space."

Without further discussion, he pushed forward, his cock forcing its way into her ass once more. Though it was slightly easier than the first time, thanks to her earlier violation in the shower, the pain and fullness were still overwhelming.

"UNGH!" Tori cried out, her fingers clutching desperately at the sheets she shared with her husband.

"Anal resistance has decreased markedly," George observed, pushing until he was fully seated inside her. "Adaptation to taboo penetration is occurring at an accelerated rate in the marital environment. This suggests your psychological barriers to infidelity are weakening rapidly."

He began moving, sodomizing her on the bed she shared with Damien, his heavy body pressed against her back, his labored breathing hot against her neck. The violation was total—physical, psychological, emotional.

"The inspection protocol now calls for simultaneous multi-point stimulation," George announced, reaching around to **** two thick fingers into her pussy while his cock continued to pump in and out of her ass.

The dual penetration sent confused signals of pain and pleasure through Tori's overwhelmed nervous system. Despite her mental anguish, her body responded to the intense stimulation, a fact that George immediately seized upon.

"Your vaginal muscles are contracting around my fingers while your anal passage grips my cock," he noted with satisfaction. "Dual penetration response is off the charts. You're reaching critical infidelity probability levels."

His thumb found her clit, adding a third point of stimulation that made Tori's body jerk involuntarily. The combined sensations were overwhelming, short-circuiting her ability to resist the unwanted pleasure building within her.

"No," she moaned, even as her hips began to move in rhythm with his thrusts and probing fingers. "I don't want this."

"Your mind may not, but your body has already made its choice," George countered, increasing the pace of his fingers. "The inspection is revealing your true nature, Tori. You're exactly the kind of wife who would betray her husband's trust."

The psychological **** was as brutal as the physical one. George's words, empowered by his Infidelity Inspector abilities, planted seeds of doubt that bloomed inside Tori's mind. Was he right? Was she truly capable of infidelity? The very fact that her body was responding to this revolting man seemed to confirm his accusations.

"I can feel you getting closer," George observed, his fingers working relentlessly against her g-spot while his cock continued to violate her ass. "An orgasm in your marital bed with a non-spouse partner would be the ultimate confirmation of infidelity potential."

"I won't," Tori insisted, but her voice lacked conviction as the pleasure continued to build despite her resistance.

"Your body is already deciding," George grunted, his own climax approaching as her muscles clenched around him. "Surrender to the inspection findings, Tori. Accept what you truly are."

The combination of physical stimulation and psychological manipulation proved too much for Tori's battered defenses. With a cry of mingled pleasure and shame, she came hard, her entire body convulsing as waves of intense sensation crashed over her. Her pussy clenched rhythmically around George's invading fingers, her ass tightened around his thrusting cock, and her voice—hoarse from crying—filled the bedroom with the undeniable sound of unwilling ecstasy.

"Orgasm in the marital environment confirmed!" George announced triumphantly, his own release triggered by the spasming of her muscles around him. With a guttural groan, he emptied himself into her bowels for the second time, marking her internally with his essence, a perverted baptism of degradation.

When the last pulses of their mutual climax had subsided, George withdrew, watching with satisfaction as his cum leaked from Tori's abused hole onto the sheets she shared with her husband. The physical evidence of her "infidelity" would remain even after he left, a constant reminder of her violation and humiliation.

"Inspection complete," George declared, moving off the bed and beginning to dress in his stained clothes. "All four phases have been conducted according to protocol."

Tori lay motionless on the bed, curled into a fetal position, her body bearing the marks of George's "inspection"—bruises on her hips, red handprints on her ass, and most damning of all, his seed leaking from two of her violated orifices.

"What's the... result?" she finally asked in a small voice, not looking at him.

George pulled on his t-shirt, his flabby stomach protruding beneath the stained fabric. "Based on comprehensive analysis of your physical and psychological responses throughout all four phases, I must conclude that your infidelity potential is critically high."

Tori closed her eyes, fresh tears leaking from beneath her lids. "So you'll tell Damien?"

"The standard protocol would require immediate notification of your spouse regarding your high-risk status," George confirmed, watching the despair wash over her features. Then he paused, as if considering something. "However, there is an alternative option available in certain cases."

Tori's eyes opened, a glimmer of **** hope appearing. "What alternative?"

"The Infidelity Mitigation Program," George invented on the spot, his perverted mind already planning the next phase of his manipulation. "It's an intensive intervention designed to reduce infidelity tendencies through regular... therapeutic sessions."

"What kind of sessions?" Tori asked warily, sitting up and wincing at the pain from her abused body.

"Similar to the inspection procedures, but conducted regularly to desensitize your responses to non-spouse stimulation," George explained with feigned professionalism. "Over time, this controlled exposure therapy reduces the novelty factor that drives infidelity urges."

It was complete pseudoscientific garbage, but George's powers made it sound plausible to Tori's traumatized mind. The alternative—having Damien receive a report detailing her "high infidelity potential"—was unthinkable.

"How often would these... sessions be required?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

George pretended to consider the question seriously. "Given the critical levels detected in your inspection, I would recommend three sessions per week initially. As your risk factors decrease, we could potentially reduce the frequency."

Tori blanched at the thought of enduring this violation three times every week, but the fear of losing her husband was greater than her revulsion.

"And if I agree to this program, you won't tell Damien about the inspection results?"

"The Mitigation Program allows for confidentiality," George confirmed. "Your participation would be noted in the official records, but no details would be shared with your spouse as long as you maintain perfect attendance and compliance."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card that he'd quickly scribbled his phone number on while in the bathroom earlier. "My contact information. I'll expect to hear from you within 24 hours regarding your decision. If I don't, the standard notification protocol will be initiated."

Tori took the card with trembling fingers, unable to meet his eyes. "I'll... I'll let you know."

George nodded and headed for the bedroom door, pausing for one final twist of the knife. "I'd recommend changing those sheets before your husband gets home. And showering again. Thoroughly."

With those parting words, he left, the sound of the apartment door closing behind him echoing like the sealing of a tomb around Tori's shattered sense of self.

Left alone in her violated bedroom, Tori curled up on the defiled sheets and sobbed, caught in an impossible situation of George's devious creation. The worst part wasn't the physical violation she had endured—it was the seeds of doubt he had planted in her mind. Was she really the kind of person who could betray her husband? Her body had responded to George's touch despite her disgust. What did that say about her?

As she dragged herself to the bathroom for another shower, scrubbing desperately at skin that felt permanently unclean, Tori knew she would call the number on that card. The alternative was unthinkable. And somewhere deep in her broken psyche, a terrible question formed: If she was going to be punished for infidelity anyway, through these "therapeutic sessions," was she already guilty of the crime she was being accused of?

George had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. Not only had he violated Tori's body, but he had infected her mind with doubts that would ensure his continued access to her. The Infidelity Inspector had found his first victim, and he had no intention of letting her go.