Wendy Simpson sat in the chair, taking in her surroundings. Until just a few minutes ago, she had been in the bedroom she shared with her husband of five years, Reggie. Odd, she thought, she couldn’t remember what it was she had been doing. It was as if she was there one second, then here the next. How did that happen?

She looked around the room. There were no windows and she couldn’t make out where a door might be. There was no obvious light source, but the room was bathed in an almost overwhelming white light that seemed to emanate from everywhere. Everything in the room was white – the short robe she wore, the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the chair she sat in and the table in front of her. Strange, she thought. There aren’t any shadows anywhere.

The room seemed a bit stuffy to her, and beads of sweat began forming on her forehead. She wiped the sweat using the sleeve of her robe. Finally, a door opened and a slim man dressed in a white suit and tie approached the table.

He sat down, opened a folder and placed it on the table in front of him. He consulted the folder before looking at her. He looked at her bare legs, her long blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders and the swell of her B-cup breasts. She was really quite beautiful. In another universe, he might have made a play for her himself. What a waste, he thought to himself.

“Wendy Simpson,” he said. “Is that correct?” He watched as she nodded her head. “Please answer yes or no,” he added.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m Wendy Simpson. Where am I? What am I doing here?” He smiled briefly before answering. He had seen this hundreds of thousands of times. No, make that millions of times.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he asked. She shook her head.

“No, I don’t,” she said.

“That’s alright,” he said. “It’s perfectly normal. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“It’s kinda warm in here,” she said. “Can I please have a glass of ice water or something?” He smiled before answering.

“Actually, it seems a bit cool in here to me,” he said. “Besides, we don’t serve refreshments here. Trust me, there’s a lot of people here who would love a glass of ice water,” he added with a slight chuckle. He always enjoyed telling new arrivals that. “Now, let’s get to business, shall we?” he asked. “It seems you’ve been quite a naughty little girl,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. He looked at her before speaking.

“Never apologize,” he said firmly. “It’s too late for apologies anyway, and believe me when I tell you they would simply fall on deaf ears anyway.”

“All I’m asking is that you not judge me,” she said. “I know I’m not perfect, but I’ve always tried to be good.”

“I’m not here to judge you,” he said. “You’ve already been judged. I’m here to determine what level to place you. Now, let’s get to it, shall we?” The entire wall changed and it looked to Wendy as though she was watching a giant movie of her life. “As a child, you repeatedly disobeyed your parents and lied to them more than once,” he said. The “movie” changed scenes as he talked, reflecting the incidents he mentioned. “All pretty standard stuff. You were 12 when you swiped that little trinket from the small country store you visited with your mother. You remember that?”

“I do,” she said. “I thought no one saw me.” He chuckled.

“That’s what they all say,” he told her. “You started exposing yourself to the boys when you were 13, dropping your pants out by the creek behind your house. Lost your virginity at 14 to a man six years older than yourself. Had your first abortion at 15. Your mother put you on birth control, but you weren’t very good at taking it regularly. You had two more abortions by your 17th birthday and the last one was botched so badly the doctors had to cut your tubes. You never told your husband, did you?”

“Oh my God,” she said. When they first married, she told her husband she had female issues that made it difficult for her to conceive. He bought her lie, hook, line and sinker, and never pressured her for more information. “You know all that?” He looked at her harshly, his face turning a dark shade of red.

“Never mention that name here, miss,” he said. “Unless you intend to take it in vain. Do you understand?” She nodded her head.

“Yes,” she said. “I understand.” She caught herself quickly, realizing that she was about to apologize. He turned back to the folder in front of him, his face returning to a more normal color.

“Let’s see,” he said, picking up where he left off. “By the time you graduated from high school, you had sex with almost every boy in your class. In fact, the only reason you graduated is that you fucked one of your teachers for a passing grade.” She remembered that incident. She hadn’t been doing too well in her senior English class, mostly because she was too busy partying with the football team.

Her English teacher, Mr. Ross, was a young, good-looking single man, so she cornered him one day after school and pleaded with him for a second chance. He told her it was too late, but assured her he might be willing to give her a passing grade in exchange for sex. By then, she was over 18. She locked the door, stripped naked for him and proceeded to give him the best fuck she could. She even let him fuck her in the ass that afternoon. He came through (no pun intended), giving her a B, which ensured her graduation.

“You continued in this way all through college,” the man said. “You got a reputation as a party girl and an easy lay. Then you started using drugs and participated in numerous gangbangs. I’m frankly surprised you actually graduated. That’s when you met Reginald Simpson, the man who would become – unfortunately – your husband.”

She remembered meeting Reggie in the common area. He was such a handsome young man with dreams for his future. He treated her like a queen. In his eyes, she was a goddess in more ways than one. She thought she could change her ways if only he would marry her. They dated for several months before he popped the question. Naturally, she accepted and they were married.

“You promised to be exclusive with him, but you weren’t able to, were you?” the man asked. “In fact, you had sex with all of the male strippers at your bachelorette party, even taking them on three at a time.”

As he spoke, video of her party played on the wall, and she saw a giant version of herself being made airtight by three muscular, well-hung strippers, none of whom wore any protection. After they had all ejaculated inside her, she sat down on one man, cowgirl-style, taking his giant cock inside her pussy, then leaned forward as another man penetrated her already stretched-out vagina. She never felt so full in her life, and bucked as the two men fucked her to orgasm. Both of them finished inside her, filling her with their sperm.

“In fact, it was several days before you even approached poor Reggie for sex, wasn’t it?” the man asked. She nodded her head, ashamed, as he looked at her closely.

“Yes, it was,” she said.

“No need to be ashamed here,” the man said. “What’s done is done. It’s far too late to take any of it back.” He went back to his folder and the video changed as he spoke.

“Let’s see,” he said. “On the day of your wedding, you managed to fuck your husband’s best man just minutes before walking down the aisle. I bet you really enjoyed going through your ceremony with his cum running down your leg, didn’t you?” She remembered that day, and how naughty she felt when she did that.

“Just a little bit,” she said meekly.

“Oh, please,” the man said. “You loved it, and you know you did. He’d been after you for quite a while. He was your husband’s best friend, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, he was,” she replied.

“And poor Reggie never knew, did he?” the man asked. Wendy shook her head.

“No, he didn’t,” she said.

“You managed to stay faithful to your husband throughout your honeymoon, but you were back to your old tricks in pretty short order,” the man said. “After you got hired on as a legal secretary, you began flirting with the men in your office, and had sex with several of them over the next few months. You even brought some of them to your house when Reggie was gone on business trips, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did,” she said. She looked at the wall and saw herself getting impaled by one cock as she sucked another one eagerly down her throat.

“You sure did fool your husband, didn’t you?” the man asked. “He never knew. Never suspected anything, even as you gave him sloppy seconds or thirds and fed him the creampies your lovers left inside you.”

“He thought I was really horny for him when he got back from his trips,” she said. “He never suspected.”

“That’s because the clueless idiot loved you,” the man said. “Meanwhile, you were laughing inside, weren’t you? You loved the power you had over him, didn’t you? You could tell him anything and he’d believe you.”

“I guess I did,” she said. The truth was, this man was right. She often laughed at herself when she thought about how she had cheated on her husband. All the time they were married, she thought she had gotten away with her adultery.