Aren's Ambush

A light hearted tale of assault. As one of my esteemed fellow authors says, this is a RAAC free zone. It does however contain mild BTB scenes. There is no graphic sex.

I think I've managed a fairly original motivation and discovery method. I hope you appreciate the effort.

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I sat at the table, intermittently looking at my watch and the notes of my prepared speech in front of me. By now it was purely habit. I knew the words I wanted to use by heart and had done for some weeks. I knew what I was about to do constituted a not inconsiderable risk, but I felt compelled to do it. I regretted that it had come to this, but the stubborn prick I called a husband had brought it on himself. What choice did I have?

Was my husband going to enjoy what I planned? Shit no. I knew he liked to always be in control and I was about to strip every choice from him and bend him to my will. I leaned back in my chair as I awaited his return home. He could have no idea of the ambush I had prepared for him.

I know what you're thinking. I was going to sit him down and announce I have a lover. Then insist that he either goes along with it or I'd dump his ass and clean him out. Well, you'd be wrong. Nor was I going to announce I'm divorcing him or request a trial separation so I can fuck around on him. Before you ask, no, I'd no desire to knock him out just so I could tie him up and humiliate him by fucking his best friend. And don't insult his integrity by suggesting I was there to announce that I've found out about his affair, so I was off for a revenge fuck or two. My husband is the most loving, sweet, but above all, loyal man it has ever been my privilege to meet.

No, this was the other type of ambush. A more literal one.

I glanced over at my accomplice, Matt. 6' 4" of muscle and tattoo, stared back at me vacantly from where he was idling in the doorway of the bedroom just inside the front entrance. Well, I didn't pick him for his brain capacity did I. I glanced at my watch again. Almost show time.

Right on cue, I heard Dave's keys in the lock of the front door. I nodded at Matt and watched him disappear into the shadows. I put on my best smile. Dave opened the door and without looking inside, shut it behind him. It wasn't until he had turned again and taken two paces towards me that he looked up. His face immediately fell.

"Karen! What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?"

At that moment, the aforementioned 6' 4" man mountain stepped behind my husband and clamped the wet cloth over Dave's mouth and nose. I watched sadly as Dave struggled, really alarmed at how long this was taking. In the movies those chloroformed passed out immediately. In reality, my husband struggled and thrashed and his eyes rolled around, trying to see his attacker, but the huge biker knew his business. It must have been at least two distressing minutes before Dave changed tactics. He momentarily appeared to relax, then lifted his right foot and stomped down. I think his intention was to hit the top of Matt's foot, but he misjudged. Instead his boot skidded down the biker's shin. I cringed at the reflected pain as even I-like-em-big-and-stupid, winced. Quick as a flash, Matt's plan was abandoned. Releasing Dave with one arm, he spun him round and hammered a fist under my husband's chin. Dave saw it coming but was too groggy to protect himself. Finally, I saw his eyes slowly cross and he slumped in Matt's arm. Oh well. Shame, but the effect was the same. In well-rehearsed coordination, Matt and I lifted my recumbent husband and carried him into the master bedroom. Five minutes and four ropes later, the job was done. I thanked Matt and paid him the last $200 I owed him for completing the job. He pocketed it, then trundled out the door, patting his pocket to make sure he had his lock picks.

I sat on the side of the bed and gazed lovingly at my husband's face, while I stroked his brow. What the...? Why was he turning blue? It suddenly occurred to me that being unconscious and on his back had cause him to swallow his tongue. I tried to prise open his mouth, I dunno why; to try to grab his tongue I suppose. It wouldn't open more than a little. So I put my hand under his neck and lifted a bit. I heard and felt air rushing into his lungs. I slowly relaxed as the colour came back to his face. Now I just had to wait until he came out of his Matt induced swoon.

It was still a good 10 minutes before his eyes started to flicker. I just sat there stroking his brow. Finally, his eyes opened fully. Within seconds he lunged upwards but was pulled back by the ropes. His head thrashed from side to side looking at his bonds. Finally, seeing he was helpless, he stopped thrashing and just started yelling, "Help," as loud as he could. I had anticipated this, so I slapped him as hard as I could to stun him a little, then reached for the pre-prepared gag.

"I had hoped we could talk like civilised human beings, but if you are going to be unreasonable, then a one sided conversation will have to do."

I stopped when I had finished tying the gag and looked once again at the face that I'd loved for 23 years. I took a deep breath and imagined my notes in my head.

"Now darling..."

Something was wrong again. He appeared to be unconscious. Come on, I didn't slap him that hard. His eyes were rolled back in his head and his body was kind of vibrating. Thinking my slap had triggered something, I just sat and stared at this bizarre behaviour. In my panic I thought I could undo whatever it was I'd done by slapping him again. I leapt up and straddled his chest and brought my hand back to administer my medicine.

"I'm sorry darling, this wasn't what was supposed to... oof."

My body was suddenly propelled sideways as someone tackled me to the floor. I looked up and saw, to my surprise, another woman. She was a little taller than me and quite beautiful, with flaming red hair. She was a good deal younger and obviously fitter. Just like I was before my athletic body had been allowed to run down a little. I found myself pinned to the floor in some sort of wrestling or martial arts hold. The pressure around my throat allowed breathing, just. I knew that a little more might change that, so I let my body go limp and just stared up into her startling green eyes.

"Let me up, bitch, I have to talk to my husband."

"I will let you up, but not to talk to MY boyfriend. I want to see what's wrong with him. Try to interfere and believe me I will break both your arms. I've called the police so go or stay, I don't care. Do you understand?"

The pressure remained until I nodded my assent. She jumped up and looked at Dave. His condition was still the same. She quickly put her head to his chest and listened. I saw the colour drain from her pretty face, then she jumped up, grabbed the phone and called an ambulance. As soon as she hung up, she grabbed a knife and cut Dave's bonds while screaming at me to help drag him on to the floor. I was starting to panic.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know. His heart is beating, but it's all over the place. I can't do CPR on the bed. What the hell did you do to him?"

"Er, a friend of mine knocked him out. But he had to, Dave just wouldn't go out from the chloroform."

The tall redhead paused again while she listened to Dave's chest.

"Why did you chloroform him? Is this your way of getting him back? Nice plan."

"NO! I know he will never have me back. Not after what I did to him. He's way too proud for that."

Any more discussion was interrupted when two policemen rushed into the apartment. The hellcat quickly outlined what had happened and one of the policemen quietly arrested me. As I was led to the door, the worry, the terror but most of all the frustration, just overwhelmed me.

"I JUST WANTED TO TELL HIM WHY! HE HAS TO LISTEN. HE HAS TO FORGIVE ME."

I was taken to the police station and put in a holding cell for what seemed like hours. They'd offered to call a lawyer for me but I knew I couldn't afford one. I'd spent just about all my savings on divorce lawyers until I'd accepted that Dave was gone forever. I was still terrified. What if Dave was dead? Then I could never explain why I'd done what I did and would never get his forgiveness.

Finally, I was taken to an interview room. Two detectives sat me down and turned on a tape machine. I saw no harm in agreeing to be taped while being interviewed but that was as far as my cooperation was going to go. The first three questions I just answered, "I refuse to answer that on the grounds it will tend to incriminate me." Yes, I'd watched all those cop shows. The two detectives were discussing getting a legal aid lawyer for me when there was a knock at the door. A third detective poked his head around the door.

"The girlfriend is here and wants a word."

With obvious bad grace, the two original detectives left and the tall redhead entered the room and sat down opposite me.

"I'm Wendy Dormer by the way."

"Is Dave okay?'

"He'll live, no thanks to you. Your little chloroform trick gave him Cardiac Arrhythmia. The doctors say that he'll be fine until his heart rate lifts above normal, then he will just pass out. They're going to let him rest for a while then stop his heart and re-start it. There's a 90% chance he'll be back to normal. Otherwise it's a pacemaker for the rest of his life.

Relieved, I took the opportunity to look at her. She was statuesque in a bimboish kind of way, with a body that I would have been happy to have at her age. One look in her eyes told me that although she my superior in every physical aspect, I had the drop on her intellectually. I wondered why she was here. She answered that for me.

"Look Karen, this shit has to stop. When are you going to get it through your thick head that Dave doesn't care why you did the nasty on him. He just wants the divorce and to move on with his life."

"But he has to listen to me."

"No he doesn't. You need to tell him, but there's no law that says he has to listen. From what he tells me, you and he had a normal life until he came home and found you screwing another man. He said that as far as he was concerned, you had opted out of the marriage and he wants nothing more to do with you."

"But he owes it to me to just listen to why I did what I did. I know he and I are finished, but he has to forgive me. After he moved out, I tried phoning him but he never answered. The same went with the emails, they just disappeared into the ether and I never heard anything. I sent him a letter and he just returned it unopened. I even tried a registered letter but he refused to accept it. God, it is so frustrating. I tried accosting him at his work but he just put his finger in his ears and refused to listen, then called security. I tried explaining it to his mum but she just called me a slut and hung up. I even tried getting my mum and dad to intervene but they told me they didn't want anything to do with me anymore. That hurt. But not as much as when my own kids refused to talk to me. My last effort was to refuse to sign the divorce papers unless he sat down with me one on one. He just halted the process. It is so fucking frustrating. If I could just tell him why I did it, then we could all move on and people would just start talking to me again."

"What people?"

"Anyone!"

"Yes, I can see it would be frustrating. Let me tell you, Dave was disappointed that the kids took the attitude they did. He tried to tell them they shouldn't judge you, that the crimes you committed were against him, not them. But they're adults now and can form their own opinions. They're good kids; they and my two get on really well."

"When did you see them? Did you go to Sydney?"

"No. They were here last week, It's the second semester break."

She let the news that my own children were in town but didn't come to see me, sink in.

"Look Karen, if it's going to save Dave's life and stop you doing this shit again, I'll be happy to listen to you now. I promise to try to get Dave to hear me out."

I seriously considered her offer. I stared at her innocent, slightly vacuous expression. What the hell, I had nothing to lose and lots to gain. The police had only a circumstantial case, with only Dave as a direct witness. I knew I could rely on his good nature not to press charges against me. If this bitch tried to make a statement, I would just deny it. Shit, in my business life, I had two dumb pricks like her before breakfast every day. I decided to sound her out on one of the minor justifications I'd prepared.

"Okay. I was a virgin when we married and I'd always thought I may have been missing out on something..."

"Yes, Dave thought it might be something like that. But he said that getting married a virgin had been at your insistence. He said he'd put gentle pressure on you to er, give it up. He even said he flagged it as a potential problem, way back then. I agreed with him that it would be grossly unfair for you to use that as a reason when it was your choice back then."

Wendy's interruption caught me by surprise. She was being a little more forceful than I'd expected. That was nothing to the surprise of her next statement.

"And don't try to tell me you were just getting even for Dave playing away or neglecting you. The kids told me that growing up he'd always been attentive to you and spent all his free time with you and them. Don't try to tell me that he cheated on you first. I know him well enough to say that he is the most loyal, trustworthy, honourable and respected man I have ever met. He would never dream of disrespecting you. Until you threw him away that is."

This woman was starting to piss me off with her naivety. I knew my voice was louder and shriller than I meant it to be, but I was beyond caring.

"Well that was the fucking problem wasn't it! Respect. I've got a friggin university degree, Dave never made it past high school. I clawed myself up the corporate ladder, after taking off 10 years to look after the kids and nobody said shit. Dave gets promoted to foreman and it's like everyone thinks he's been elected president. I hang around with smart business professionals who drive BMWs and dress nice. He hangs around with sweaty, blue collar yobs who drive Fords. He gets to eat what he likes and still looks hot, while I diet my arse off and still end up looking like a pudgy middle aged housewife, even after the face lift and the boob job. Everyone likes Dave. Everyone respects Dave. Everyone wants to be with Dave. I hate it."

I paused to try to lower my voice below the screech I knew it had become.

"Even when I got a promotion last year to Group Manager, all my own parents could say was that with all the money they'd spent on my education, they expected nothing less. But that didn't stop them raving about Dave's bonus. I earn more in three weeks than Dave's bonus was for the entire year. It just wasn't fair. That year I spent a bloody fortune on a hairdo, makeup and a dress for my company Christmas party. I turn up and all anyone has to say is, "Where's Dave?" Do you have any idea what it's like to know you are socially, financially and intellectually superior to your husband, yet your own parents seem to like him more than you? Do you?"

Wendy shook her head. Karen thought Wendy was the type of person she most hated. The sporty bimbo at school who had her pick of the boys. The vacuous type that hung around her husband at parties and laughed at his crude jokes, while she was trying, but failing, to impress people with her knowledge and intellect. The ones that agreed with him whenever there was a disputed point, even when her argument was superior. Not just the women, but all the guys as well. The ultimate humiliation was when, after one argument, Dave had come to her defence against the mob. The argument had been about stay at home mums. Dave had jumped in and extolled her virtues as a mother who had selflessly sacrificed her early career to give the children what they needed. A loving, nurturing environment. His comments on how good she looked after the ravages of two children should have drawn them together but had the opposite effect. She, the Group Manager, having to be rescued by a foreman.

"Well, after a while, I really started to resent it. Every time I tried to prove I was better, in just some small way, it backfired. Just made me look competitive and worse, made people rally around Dave. In the end I decided there was only one way to get one over Dave. I would take a lover. If I could keep an affair secret from Dave, then it would prove I was better than he was. Just to me. If I could find one that was a better lover than him, that gave me more pleasure, even had a bigger cock, then I could secretly humiliate him without him being any the wiser."

"Well that wasn't much of a challenge was it Karen? Dave is so open and trusting that you could have screwed a guy in bed next to him and he wouldn't have noticed. How long did this go on for?"

"Three guys over six months."

"Wow, Dave thought it was just the one. Was it what you were hoping for?"

"On the whole, no. Sure it was satisfying getting one over Dave and successfully hiding it, but the sex was awful. Because I was so inexperienced when I married, I had no idea that Dave was bigger and better than most men. The guys didn't give a shit about my pleasure, it was just wham bang, thankyou mam. I only went with the first two a couple of times. The third guy, who I worked with, was the only one even remotely up to Dave's standards."

"So why didn't you give it up?"

"Because, if I did then Dave would have won again."

"Uh?"

"I felt I had to keep going until I had better sex with someone than the sex I had with Dave. Then I could have 'retired' knowing I'd had better sex than Dave had ever had and I could have stopped, knowing something Dave never would. I was training the third guy, John, up with everything I liked best."

I could see this logic just wasn't registering with Wendy. Serves you right bitch, you should have been concentrating at school rather than fucking the entire football team.

"So what happened in the end Karen? What you are telling me now, doesn't sit with what Dave told me. He figured you wanted to be caught. That was why he came home at his normal time and caught you having sex on the couch."

"Of course I didn't want to be caught. I knew that Dave would throw me out on my arse if he ever discovered me. I came to realise that John would never get me to where I wanted to be, so I came up with another plan. Dave had fucked me a couple of times a few hours after I'd been with other guys. It was kind of hot, but still not what I wanted. I made the mistake of reading some stories about humiliation on line. There was one about a woman who had her lover cum in her then got her husband to eat her out a short time later. This story struck a real chord with me. I knew this was what I was looking for. If I could pull this off, my obsession would be over. No matter how inferior I felt from then on, I would remember Dave humiliating himself that day. So I took the Monday off and invited John to come over in the afternoon. The plan was for him to give me at least two good loads just before Dave came home. I set an alarm for 4.45 knowing that Dave always came home spot on 5.30. I was going to lie on the couch and invite him to dine when he walked in the door. Just my luck that for the first time in years he came home early without ringing."

I stopped, realising that in my anger and frustration, I had departed wildly from my script.

"Um, he didn't actually come home early Karen. If you'd gone to work that day, then you would have realised that yourself and Dave had forgotten the start of daylight savings the day before. He turned up to work an hour late but left at normal time. He said he'd rung and left a message on your cell."