Sweet Surrender

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

I stared out the large picture window at our front yard, the sprinklers oscillating back and forth, their spray of water interacting with the rays of the sun to create tiny, vibrant rainbows in the arches they left behind. I'd been patiently and anxiously waiting all day for this phone call to come, and now that it had, I simply felt impatient and too put out to deal with my husband's shenanigans.

"I think that's pretty obvious, Steve. Your philandering has backed me into a corner and I didn't feel as though I had any choice but to take the step I did."

Alexandra had insisted that I take the morning off; my nervous energy had proved too much for her to handle. She'd simply kissed me goodbye and sent me on my way, telling me to give her a call once I'd heard from my "dangling doofus of a husband."

"I don't know what it is that you think you know, Brooke, but I can promise you that you are sorely mistaken if you believe you can prove these allegations of adultery! Do you not know how damaging they could be to my career? My earning potential? It will be a cold day in hell before I let you do this to me!"

"I'm not the one that's done anything to you. It's whatever floozy you've been banging on Sundays when you were supposed to be playing golf. That's right; I knew where you'd been when you came home on Sunday. I could practically smell her on you."

Okay, that's a lie, but you don't know that.

"I absolutely deny doing anything of the sort, and you can't prove that I did. Tell me, what is it that you could possibly be hoping to get out of this? Divorce me and you'll lose all of those shopping expeditions, hair appointments, and spa trips."

"Maybe I think I could do without a few creature comforts if it means not having to deal with the humiliation of having a cheating husband," I spat back at him, trying my best to sound as if I actually meant it.

"Come on, Brooke," Steve replied, his voice taking on a begging tone as he changed tacks, clearly trying to appeal for sympathy. "This will destroy me. Don't you love me anymore?"

I never did you, pathetic cretin! You misguided maggot-filled dickhead dipped in dog shit... Great, now Alexandra has me doing it too!

Instead of saying what I wanted to say, I stuck to the script I'd agreed on with Gretchen. "I don't want to do that," I replied, trying to sound as though I was entertaining the idea of being forgiving. "We can talk about it when you get home, but only if you're serious about working things out. I'm serious, though, Steve. Things can't go on as they are."

"Of course, of course," Steve replied condescendingly as if he was trying to placate an unruly child. "I'm sure that if we sit down and discuss this rationally we can come to an understanding."

Oh, I know that we can!

I thought, but out loud I said, "All right. Will you be at home about your usual time?"

"Perhaps thirty minutes later," he replied. "I had to push back a meeting to deal with this situation between us, so I'm going to have to spend the rest of the day trying to play catch-up."

"See you then," I said as I disconnected the call, resigning myself to whatever fate awaited me.

<<<<<>>>>>

"You need to relax, kitten."

I felt Alexandra behind me, her hands going to my shoulders as her long and graceful fingers began to knead the tense flesh they encountered there. I melted back into her touch, my head lolled back against her stomach as I felt my cares willed away by her tender act. Whenever we were in our own little bubble, I increasingly found myself able to shed the worries and concerns of the outside world. With Alexandra, I felt safe and loved. With her, I was secure. I knew that I would be respected for more than my pretty face and the fact that I could draw a man's attention. She saw me as an equal--a real partner in life. What's more, I knew that she would stay true to me... to us.

"I'm doing my best, Alex," I said with a contented sigh. "Being here with you certainly helps. I just wish that I could have you there with me when he gets home."

"Oh, that would go over well," Alexandra replied with a giggle. "I can just see Captain Misogynist getting home to find me waiting in his living room. No, I think it's for the best that it just be you and Gretchen. There's no reason to antagonize the simpleton any more than we have to. I would like it, though, if you stayed here with me tonight."

"Really?" I said, my heart lifting at the prospect of falling asleep next to Alexandra's naked perfection and waking up in her arms.

"Absolutely!" she replied, leaning down and kissing the curve of my neck.

"Oh, God, don't get me started. You know I can't contain myself when you start doing that."

"You can and you will," Alexandra replied with a laugh before changing the subject. "How's your little passenger?"

It was the first time I'd thought about the plug inserted in my ass in several hours. It was amazing the things that the human body could become accustomed to. "I'd forgotten about it, to be honest."

"Excellent! Maybe things will go well with that ignorant buffoon you married and the two of us will be able to celebrate by you giving me your anal cherry!"

I felt my face flush. The thought of Alexandra slowly burying one of her dildos in my bum made me tremble with delight. I briefly wondered if it was possible to come from such illicit activity. I was certainly less skeptical than I would have been only five weeks ago. Everything else she had ever done to me sexually had gotten my rocks off.

"If that's what the woman I love wants - and provided I get a chance to dine on your sweet pussy." My words came out boldly, but they immediately made me blush.

"Deal!" Alexandra announced. "See, you're already in a frame of mind to negotiate!"

<<<<<>>>>>

"Who the hell is this?" Steve asked as he froze just inside the entrance to the front room. "And where in the hell is my supper?"

"Maybe you left it the same place you did your fidelity," I replied, personally pleased with my retort. "As for who this is, her name is Gretchen Fieldings and she's my divorce attorney."

"Oh, that's low," Steve said with a scowl, "ambushing me after you intimated that we could work something out. That's so typical of you."

"Mr. Stanton," Gretchen said, "if you'll join us, I believe you might find it to be beneficial."

"Oh, no, that's not going to happen," Steve replied with a shake of his head. "I'm not going up against some shyster lawyer without my own lawyer being present."

"That's your right, of course," Gretchen replied evenly, "but if we have to go that route, then it will have to be a conference in one of our offices and I will bring a stenographer. So, any record of the meeting will be entered in the court records before trial. Or... we could just sit down here and put this entire issue to bed. That way, none of this ever has to become fodder for the public record. I can tell you for certain that there's no rumor mill that runs faster than the one in a courthouse. Even if your lawyer were successful in seeking to have a gag order placed on those involved, I can assure you that word would get out very quickly."

I watched as Steve's eyes ping-ponged back and forth between Gretchen and me, angst and desperation filling them. Finally, he set his briefcase aside and deigned to actually enter the room, standing with his arms crossed and facing us. I got the feeling he was trying to appear intimidating, but all I saw was petulance.

"Alright, lady, let's hear what you've got."

"Excellent," Gretchen said, rubbing her hands together. "You've already seen our petition for divorce and know the grounds we intend to file it under..."

"Which you can't prove!"

"You and Marcus in a hotel -- the Marriot in Atlanta -- with two women. I believe that Marcus was with a really cute blonde while you seemed to get saddled with a rather bland girl with strawberry-red hair. You were dishonoring her with your prepubescent penis, if I remember correctly."

Steve said nothing, but his body language gave him away. His weight shifted from foot to foot while his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed -- and then there was the fact he uncrossed his arms and clasped his hands in front of himself, covering his crotch. It was a classical sign of insecurity from males.

"Mr. Stanton, we have you on video having sex with the woman in question. We also have access to texts between you and your friend Marcus from over the last five weeks that outline the number of times this has happened."

"Oh," I said, not able to resist, "and then there's the text you mistakenly sent me telling me you had a surprise for me that night, followed by a picture of your dick. Then you called me just a few minutes later to tell me that you had to work late that night."

"Yes, there is that text as well," Gretchen said with a nod and a smile. "So you see, we actually have quite a lot to prove our claim of adultery. And that's before I put my investigator to work digging up your background. I can promise you this: if you've committed any prior bad acts -- even something as minor as farting at a wedding -- my investigator will dig it up and I will get it on the court record. You can ask your attorney about me, Mr. Stanton. I'm very good at my job."

"All right, all right!" Steve said. "I get the point!" He threw up his hands in surrender, and, for a moment, looked genuinely frightened. I immediately wondered what else he was hiding. "Can we just get this over with? Because apparently I still have to get changed and go out to eat."

"Well, let's see if we can get you out of here quickly then," Gretchen said, bending down to her briefcase and pulling out the document she'd drawn up. "This is a postnuptual contract. It states that Brooke will set aside her divorce petition and will be disallowed from commenting on or releasing the video in question. It also says that if she later decides to seek a divorce, she will not do so on the grounds of adultery -- nor will she offer into any public record any evidence thereof unless it's relevant for other reasons.

"It further states that she will continue to play the role of your wife publicly until a time that the two of you either legally separate or one of the two of you files for a dissolution of the marriage. It states that from this point forward this will be an open marriage, but one that you will both make all reasonable efforts to keep under wraps. Provided you do that, there will be no repercussions for either one of you seeking companionship outside of this marriage..."

"And you'd better make use of that," I said, breaking Gretchen's stride, "because it will be a cold day in hell before you crawl between my legs again."

"Yes, well -- wait, where was I -- oh, yes: If you fail to keep your affairs secret, Brooke shall be allowed to file for divorce on the grounds of adultery, since she would look quite ridiculous if she did not. Further, she will then be permitted to enter all relevant evidence into the record to support that claim.

"Now, let's cover how Brooke's other obligations will be changing. She will agree to attend all company functions with you, and will be available to attend up to one private engagement per week as your wife. She will also agree to attend one private family function every six months as long as it's under two days in duration. While you two are cohabitating, she will agree to remain neat around the house and clean up after herself, but will no longer be responsible for the shared domicile's upkeep, or meal preparations..."

"So who's going to do all of that?" Steve spat.

"Well, you're hiring at least one woman to service your sexual needs," I said. "What's one more to cook and clean? Maybe you can find one that does all three, and maybe this time you'll be honest with her about the entire arrangement up front."

"Sounds like you'd have done a better job if I'd paid you by the hour," Steve spat back at me.

"Well, that would have been better than you paying me by the minute for our sex life! Because if you had, I would have starved to death a long time ago!" I replied with a fire that made him flinch.

Steve's look said that he could kill me, but what I took notice of even more was the fact that he didn't deny my assertion. That meant I was probably right about the women in the video being prostitutes. That thought reminded me that I needed to make an appointment with my doctor to be checked for STDs.

"Brooke also agrees to keep her spending to normal levels, with them only increasing in line with the cost of living..."

"Now who's the whore?" Steve asked with a sneer.

"Uh, I'm not a whore anymore," I replied, countering his shitty tone with my own. "I'm a gold digger. There's a difference."

And a very gay one at that!

I thought but didn't say.

"Where were we?" Gretchen said while apparently doing her damndest to hold back a smile. "Ah, yes: what you, in turn, would be agreeing to..."

"You mean being extorted into doing."

"Extortion would mean that we forced you to sign this document under the threat of force or through some illegal means. I can assure you, Mr. Stanton, that what we are doing here is perfectly in line with the law. We're not threatening to release the video or talk about its content in a public setting. We're merely pointing out that it will come out if this goes to trial."

"Fine. Get on with it."

"Separate and apart from Brooke's individual spending habits, you will agree to continue to financially support her in the lifestyle to which she has grown accustomed, including annual cost-of-living increases."

I noticed that Gretchen paused there as if to give Steve time to object to that part of the contract. When he didn't, she continued. "If at any time you decide to file for divorce, you will agree to support Brooke in that same lifestyle for up to five years, or until such a time that she remarries..."

"No judge will agree to that," he snapped. "That's more than twice as long as we've been married."

"It isn't the standard, Mr. Stanton, but I can promise you that a postnuptual contract that you signed of your own free will would be honored by any sitting justice when it came time to adjudicate this case. Of course, you are more than welcome to seek legal advice on the matter."

"Oh, I will," Steve replied.

"Excellent," Gretchen replied. "As I was saying, you will continue to support Brooke in the lifestyle to which she's grown accustomed. You will find those costs itemized. You will also agree to continue paying all of the household bills, including the cost of groceries and dining out. Have you understood everything I've said so far? Do you have any questions?"

"Just get on with it," Steve groused angrily.

"In addition, you will agree to remain civil with her within any private space the two of you share. We'll hardly dissuade you from blowing up your marriage in public, if that's a route you later choose. Finally, you will agree to not purposefully attempt to impede Brooke in her duties as personal assistant to one Alexandra Rossington."

"That dyke cunt put you up to this, didn't she?" Steve growled, his fingers balling up tightly into fists. "I knew that she was trouble from the moment I first met her."

"For your own benefit, Mr. Stanton," Gretchen said calmly, "I refer you to the clause about remaining civil. Those terms would likely be considered offensive by a majority of the population, which a judge would surely take into account if the issue needed to be litigated in the future. That majority includes me."

"Me too!" I threw in.

"What? I can't even call a dyke a dyke in my own home?"

"Under the terms of the proposed agreement, you would refrain from doing so in the presence of Brooke," Gretchen replied patiently. I marveled at her restraint because it was obvious to me that she would have dearly enjoyed bashing my husband over the head. "When she isn't present, you can feel free to utter whatever ignorant epithets you wish."

"Yeah, well I haven't signed shit yet," Steve announced, "and I won't be signing anything until my attorney has had a few days to look things over." I felt a bit deflated at hearing his words. Gretchen and Alexandra had both warned me that the chances of him capitulating to my demands right away were almost nil. That hadn't stopped me from holding out a sliver of hope.

"That's fine," Gretchen said. "I would expect you to do your due diligence. Have him or her look it over along with the divorce papers you were served with. They can then contact me at this number so that we can discuss any proposed changes and set up a time to meet."

Gretchen handed Steve her business card. He practically snatched it from her hand before shoving it in his pocket without giving it a second glance. I stood, relieved that the encounter was over, while still anxious to have a signed deal in place.

"One final thing, Mr. Stanton: I would encourage you to take this matter very seriously. Don't dawdle, because if I haven't heard from your attorney within three days, I wholeheartedly intend to file for the earliest hearing available with the court. As it just so happens, there are a couple of clerks at the court who owe me big favors, so this divorce can either be stopped dead in its tracks or expedited. The decision is yours."

"Are you ready?" I asked Gretchen while Steve stood there, looking perturbed and disoriented as if his world had been shifted off its axis. In a way, I supposed it had.

"Are you ready?" I asked Gretchen.

"Just let me pack this away," she replied, bending to open up her suitcase and drop some papers inside. She then picked up the case and followed me out of the room. I walked over to the front foyer and opened the coat closet there. Reaching in, I retrieved the suitcase that I'd stashed in there earlier and extended the handle before turning back to where my husband stood.

"I'm going to stay with Alexandra for a few days, or until we get this situation worked out. She's offered me the use of a room, and I've accepted. If you need me, you can reach me on my mobile phone."

With that, Gretchen and I left my husband standing there dumbly, trying to figure out just where things had gone so wrong.

<<<<<>>>>>

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Alexandra said. "How did it go?"

I looked to Gretchen for help. I wasn't really sure how to answer my girlfriend's question. I know that I'd felt damned good while we'd been stomping a mudhole in Steve's scrawny ass. But I didn't know the legal ramifications. I knew that my only regret was that we hadn't left with a signed agreement.

"I think I'll let Gretchen answer that. Do you think we did as well as I hope we did?"

"Oh yes," she assured me. "That was just grousing and pouting, Brooke. I've seen so much worse from men in much better positions. By the way, do you know which lawyer he might retain?"

"Let's see," replied. "When we did our wills, he used... Ross Braxton."

"Perfect!" Gretchen said. "I know Ross well, and I've wiped the court up with him every time I've gone up against him. He's a decent enough lawyer as far as writs and wills go, but he's very subpar when it comes to handling a trial."

"And do you think it will come to that?" Alexandra asked with one eyebrow cocked high.

"No," Gretchen replied with a shake of her head. "I'm almost willing to bet money that once he meets with Ross, and he sees what we have, he will encourage his client to do whatever it takes to keep the marriage solvent -- particularly once he finds out that I'm Brooke's lawyer. It would be his only responsible course of action. I firmly expect to get a call from Ross before my three-day deadline is up."