I did warn you that this tale would begin slowly. Also that it would contain elements bridging three categories: Loving Wives, BDSM and Non Consent. Chapters 2 and 3 and beyond will, perhaps, provide what many of you are clamouring for; a tad more stimulation.
However, I do read all comments; simply ignoring those that rant and rave. The ones that boomed out at me were the ones that were clear and concise. They said "Wrong category".
So I thank you all for your feedback and still welcome any future comments you may make. If you thought Ch. 1 was in the wrong category then Ch. 2, 3 and 4 might result in me being tarred and feathered by the militant irate trolls worked into a frenzy by my audacity to produce a piece that delved into darker areas. Things that both the husband and the wife get up to. Clarity reigns in the last chapter story line about the loving husband and wife but, by then, it will be too late to return to Loving Wives category.
Therefore, Non-consent/Reluctance it will be from now on. At least, for this story line.
For the big Arnie fans of Loving Wives category I say, "I'll be baaacck!"
Now... on with the show.
LS
*****
Planning was something I was good at and I began making a list of everything I would require and then began filling it over the following week.
Camera, for video and stills. Check.
New sim cards that could be discarded later. Check.
Dark, disposable clothing. Top and trousers. Purchased while away facilitating a course in the next city. Check.
Medical gloves. Box of 50 purchased for cash in a supermarket. Check.
Two Balaclavas. One for me initially. One to place on Christina. Check.
One Airline Sleeping mask for Christina. Old one I had borrowed years ago from some broker friends. Check.
Wrist cuffs that can also join together to form handcuffs. From my box of toys. Check.
Deodorant spray completely different from my normal spray. From a Dollar store for cash. Check.
Aftershave. Far different from my normal. Also purchased from Dollar store. Check.
Mini electric drill and two hooks. For use above door frame. From garage. Check.
Ankle cuffs. (If required) From box of toys. Check.
Lengths of nylon rope. For tying up, if required. From box of toys. Check.
Assorted toys: vibrators, dildos, clips, pegs, clamps, anal plugs, love beads, ben-wa balls, mouth gag, candles and lighter. Plus a few other assorted toys. All from my box of toys. Check.
Scissors. Dressmakers, heavy duty. Just in case required to remove clothes. Check.
KY jelly, sun burn cream. All newly purchased from store for cash. Check.
Condoms. (Damn, I can't leave any evidence of DNA.) Store for cash. Check.
Cotton Buds. To place in mouth to disguise speech. Store for cash. Check.
Looking back over the list I realised that many of the items were automatic choices for my little doctors bag of delightful toys that I had used when entertaining my threesomes. "Be prepared" was not just a Boy Scout motto. That was why the bag was left locked in a small storage locker I had "inherited" from the previous apartment owner. Christina didn't even know it existed.
The role play games could go in almost any direction and I was versatile enough to have the "equipment" required for all but highly specific scenarios.
My equipment was ready. I was ready. Now we just needed a confirmed day/date. Christina's days off were Sunday and Monday so the ideal time would be a Sunday late afternoon or evening. I would arrange to have off the Monday.
It was simple enough to let Christina know I would be facilitating a course on the Monday out of town. This was something I was often required to do. I would need to fly there on the Sunday afternoon, returning late Monday evening.
Finally, it was all arranged and it being Wednesday, I just had a few days to wait before my plan would be unleashed on my unsuspecting wife. I think I changed my mind three or four times before the fateful Sunday descended upon us.
...
Full speed ahead and don't spare the horses.
One large problem did present itself. Home security. The previous owner had taken security seriously and had installed state-of-the-art systems. Alarms, both loud to scare off burglars and silent ones that were dispatched off to Security companies who monitored such things.
As an intruder I would have to devise a way in to the apartment that avoided the security systems. Even more difficult than one would think.
When I left for the airport, Christina would drive me and drop me off. Naturally we would have locked up when we left, including activating the alarms. Getting in then would be almost impossible. So how was I going to get in without breaking the system?
It would obviously depend on what Christina did after she left me at the airport. If she drove straight back home she would then deactivate them. I could then enter via a little system I used so I could go running, entering via a sliding French door onto our patio. I hated having to carry keys with me when running so had worked out a way to enter the locked apartment, once the alarm system was deactivated.
But if Christina decided to go shopping or visit her friend Julie or even visit her family (I was sure she sneaked away at times to visit her mother but I pretended to not know. Well she is her mother and I hadn't locked Christina in a cage.) I would be stuffed.
Only thing to do would be to wait it out in the rental car until she returned. I had arranged to pick up a rental at the airport. Possibly the only chink in the plans that could be traced back to me. (Yes, I know. It only needs one piece to bring my alibi crashing down and getting me convicted. But what could I do? I didn't have false ID's like some spy!) There was only one way in to our street and I could position the rental to watch the street entrance until she returned.
When it was time to leave on Sunday I pick up my overnight suitcase that mainly contained my change of dark clothing, shoes and all the larger toys I might use. Together with my laptop bag, minus the actual laptop but filled with the masks, blindfold and smaller items I would need, I set sail to what could be the doom of our marriage.
...
I turned the rental into our street and drove slowly past the apartment. Not so slowly as to arouse suspicion but slow enough for me to see if her car was in the garage. It wasn't. Meaning I had a wait in store.
In hindsight, the tension breaker of waiting and relaxing in the rental enabled me to calm down. My heart had been beating so fast and so loud I was sure I would either have a heart attack or some local resident would hear it as they drove by and investigate. Luckily the windows were darker or tinted or something so people couldn't see me "loitering with intent" in the car.
I mentally crossed "Burglar" off any future career moves. LOL. I'd never survive the preparation period, I quickly decided. My tension dropped with the humour.
Finally, after about two hours, Christina's car drove by. This was it. The operation was a "Go". I knew she would have a shower or bath before eating dinner and relaxing for the evening so I had to move quickly.
It was getting dark as I exited the car and walked down the street carrying my bags. No one was around. I slipped past the line of garages around to the side of my apartment complex. Now I was shielded from any views. I had gone through this process mentally many times and strangely, once the process started, I felt no real nerves or tension.
I changed into the dark trousers, top and shoes, spraying liberally with the deodorant and aftershave as I did so. I then slipped the balaclava over my face and finally, donned the medical gloves and inserted the cotton buds into my mouth. I'm sure my face looked like a giant chip-monks, I chuckled. Now I was ready.
The patio French door slid back quietly and I slipped inside. I was in. There was no sound but I hadn't expected there to be. The entire apartment was sound proofed. One of the many alterations the previous owner had made. Now it worked to my advantage.
I made sure I had the wrist cuffs, the second balaclava plus the sleeping mask in my hands as I crept up the stairs to the second floor where our master bedroom was situated.
Now my heart was beating a lot faster and I could hardly breathe as I climbed closer and closer.
I moved into our bedroom and could now hear music playing in the ensuite bathroom: the sound of a hairdryer occasionally drowning out the music. When it stopped, she would be ready, I decided.
I moved to the side of the ensuite door and waited.
The door opened. She walked out a few paces; then I was behind and on her.
I thrust the balaclava slightly twisted, over her head and pulled down. The eye sockets were not lined up so she was blinded. She was so shocked or stunned that she didn't even scream. I grabbed her by the arms and manoeuvred her over to the bed and pushed her, face down, up onto the bedspread. Now she was screaming and shouting in a muffled way.
I held her body in place as I pulled one arm back and around, placing the wrist cuff on it. Then the second arm and repeated with the cuff. It was then easy to snap them together. She was secure.
I then slipped the sleeping mask over her head, positioning it over where her eyes would be. It was but the work of seconds to align the balaclava so that the mouth slot was over her mouth and she could breathe more easily. I didn't want to suffocate her accidentally.
Unfortunately this also meant she was able to scream freely as well. So she did. Damn, I thought, she sure had lungs on her. Slowly she started to say a few words.
"Help me. Please don't hurt me. Please. You can have my money. I won't say anything. Please."
Obviously it didn't come out quite the way I've written it but unless you could hear the actual volume and identify the pleading noises and sobs that also emanated, you couldn't really appreciate the situation.
I hadn't moved or said anything. Just waited until she calmed down a little, perhaps wondering why I hadn't done or said anything?
Now was to come my campaign. I had decided that there would be no half measures. No overtly gentle, loving type touches. I was meant to be a burglar type rapist, not a potential BFF. I must begin as I meant to continue. I leaned over her, lowered my voice to a deep "devil voice" and, assisted by the cotton wool cheeks, began.
"So my little slut... where are your valuables. You want me to go... where is your safe?"
