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Subject: {ASSM} {caution} wife hit
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<1st attachment, "WIFE_HIT.TXT" begin>
What's so implausible about "the Bridges of Madison County" is not the
story, but the notion that two lovers might find a love so deep as to last
their lives- and do it in a weekend. It's a fantasy, but one that women
have found delicious, because reality returned at the end: the woman
refused her lover and went back to being a housewife. The love story is a
fantasy that, at the end, graciously returned to being a fantasy.
Genre romance novels have always fascinated me. The heroine is often
imprisoned, humiliated, beaten, whipped and even raped- all this by the
arrogant six-foot lump of muscle and testosterone she somehow can't help
but love. All of this is gussied up in the florid language of such novels,
and the hero is always as pretty as his victi- excuse me, heroine. These
novels are immensely popular though (the only genre that is consistently
and extravagantly profitable) but what redeems these whippings and rapes is
not the fact that the perp is blond, six-foot, to-die-for. What redeems
them, what is most appealing, is that it is all fantasy.
Fantasy. There is a profound difference between "what if" and "if
only." Fantasy is an experience in itself, sought after for itself. It
isn't a frustrated wish, although it can certainly contain a wicked taste
of "if only." Fantasy is fantasy, an experience in itself, and as such, it
can enrich anyone's life. Florence in "Bridges" returned to reality after
her fantasy fling; an implausible situation, but there is a greater truth
there.
This story likely has more in common with slasher/ horror films (another
inexplicaby successful genre) than it does erotica. You may find it
distasteful. Read it if you will, all of it, and regardless of your
reaction, take a moment to reflect not on the story, but on the feelings
you have towards it.
Love those you love honestly, well and gently, and for the rest of it-
use your imagination!
Do Us Part
Chrutli
Ted closed the door when George came in to talk about divorce. George
was middle-aged, well-off, and he'd married a trophy wife, a cute little
brunette named Miki. Miki, as George had soon discovered, liked his money
more than she liked him, and she liked young men, or at least the things
they did to her. George wanted a divorce, but he didn't want to divide his
wealth with Miki.
"George, first I have to ask you, did you do as I requested? Did you
tell no one that you were coming here today?"
"Yes. Nobody knows. Hell, Miki doesn't even know I know about her- her
activities."
"Good. Excellent. We're going to discuss an option I don't offer many
men. I do want you to understand that once you leave this office, what we
have discussed will never be mentioned again. Not ever."
George looked at him oddly. "Something illegal?"
"Let's just say expedient. Tell me, do you have life insurance on your
wife?"
"Well, yes. The same as me. Same policy, I mean. Half a million."
"Your wife is aware of the policy? There's nothing concealed or
suspicious about it?"
"Of course not. It's the same policy I had with my late wife."
"Your late wife? How did she die?"
"Cancer. She had cancer."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I. She was a good woman." George shook his head sadly, then
looked sharply at Ted. "You're talking about murder, aren't you?"
"Let's say I have an associate who likes to take a woman's breath away;
particularly lovely young women such as your wife."
George scowled, and shook his head, Looking out the office window at the
buildings across the street. "How much?"
"Fifty thousand. One hundred thousand if you want it to look like an
accident. Otherwise, it will be the sort of thing that police investigate
thoroughly. You can save a bit if you're willing to act shocked and
grieved."
George's face darkened. "Okay. Tell me more. That worthless cheating
slut is-"
"George, please. This is your loving wife. You're going to have to act
loving and solicitous towards her. Give her gifts, take her out often.
Have friends over to witness how much in love you are. This is for your
protection."
George didn't say anything, so Ted continued. "You're not to get
additional insurance, nor do anything at all that will draw suspicion to
you. If you do, the deal is off. You're not to discuss our arrangement
with anyone. Ever. It will take some time; at least a year. There are
various reasons for this, but it is for your protection. When this
incident occurs, extreme care will be taken that you have a solid alibi.
You won't, however, know when or how or where it's to happen. It may be in
some isolated place; it may be in your home. The less you know, the better
off you'll be."
George nodded. His eyes were still dark, but he had a half-smile.
"So. I assume you're interested?"
"Yes."
"Shall it be accidental? Or shall it be something more controversial,
headlines and police interrogations?"
"How do I know you can do this?"
"You are a friend of your attorney?"
"Yes."
"His wife Deborah- didn't she drown in Hawaii a couple years ago? She
got her foot caught in a coral outcrop. It was tragic."
George looked shocked. "That's right." He thought for a moment.
"Melanie Wilson, last year?"
"Ah, Melanie. She really was despondent, you know. It was unfortunate
when she hung herself. Such a lovely young woman."
George looked at his hands, saying nothing.
"Do you have a photograph of your wife?" Ted suggested.
George took out his wallet. "This was in San Tropez, just before we got
married."
Ted took it. "I can see how you fell for her. She's very attractive.
So then, I assume you want my associate to help her stop breathing. Shall
it be an unfortunate accident? Or- well, let me be blunt- a grisly
murder?"
"Murder, George growled. "Kill her cheating ass. Just kill her."
"Good. I need a check from you, now. A personal check will do. Make
it out to Highland Marital Counselling."
George smiled in appreciation of the irony, then took out his checkbook
and started writing.
"Remember, nothing will happen inside a year. You are her loving,
solicitious husband. You will be given one opportunity to change your mind
over this issue; tell your attorney if you do. Your money will be
returned. However, should you refuse this opportunity, it will not be
offered a second time. You must act like the devoted, loving husband. Can
you do that?"
"I hate her cheating ass. I can't stand to touch her."
Ted smiled and accepted the check. "Consider this: you hold her very
life in your hands. Can you make love to her, knowing she's going to die
at your will? Some men find that a powerful aphrodisiac."
George snorted, then half-grinned. "Yes. Yes, I can see that."
"Good." Ted stood. "We'll take care of things for you. This is, as
your attorney may have told you, the only time we will meet. You won't
have this opportunity again with another wife, so chose carefully the next
time." Ted stood. "Goodbye, George. It's a pleasure."
Ted settled into his chair after George had left. Miki really was a
beautiful woman, voluptuous and olive skinned, with big, luminous eyes and
a full, pouting mouth. He was fortunate to have a job he loved.
***
"I'm grateful you could come out so late," Miki said, offering a smile
as she let Ted into the cabin. "Something's wrong with the well, I think.
There isn't any water."
"I love my job, Ma'am," Ted grinned. "Besides, it pays really well." It
was seven in the evening. George was in Chicago on business, and Ted knew
he wouldn't be back until late next week. It really was falling together
nicely. Miki, as it turned out, only had one lover, Jake, a handsome black
kid who was a student at the university. Since Ted had taken the job,
though, Miki, the stupid girl, was falling back in love with George.
George had been way too loving towards her, and she'd broken it off with
Jake. Ted had watched it all a few days ago. Jake had lost his temper and
raped her, fucking her pussy, fucking her gorgeous ass. It had surprised
Ted a little when it was clear Miki had liked it. She'd sucked his black
cock hard again and begged him for more, begged him to hurt her.
Well and good, of course. She was still hot for Jake. But Ted could
see that she was trying to get back in grace with her husband, that she
really was falling in love with him all over again. Ted had to kill her
pretty ass before George realized she was his again. With Jake and the
fight and all, the timing was perfect.
Fixing the well was a simple matter of reconnecting the wire that Ted
had pulled loose in the well house an hour earlier. Miki was relieved and
grateful when he went back to the kitchen. "I hope you're not alone out
here, Ma'am," he said. "It's pretty isolated." It never hurt to ask. She
was alone, but she might be expecting someone.
Miki shrugged and smiled too quickly. "My husband is in the village.
Getting groceries. He'll be back any minute."
"Good. I worry about my wife, sometimes. You can't trust anyone."
Miki laughed, reassured: he had a wife. "Well, how much do I owe you?"
"It's going to be doubletime, plus travel, you know. Let me get my
tools out to the truck and I'll make up a bill."
At the truck he dropped his toolbox, collected the kit he needed to do
things properly, and tucked a .45 automatic into his belt.
She was in the living room at the writing table when he returned. She
gave a little gasp when she saw the massive pistol, and stiffened when Ted
pressed it to her chest. "Please remain calm," he said softly. "I'm going
to rape you. If you cooperate, all you'll get out of it is a good lay. If
you don't, well, I'll hurt you. I may even kill you. I want you to get up
and go to the bedroom, then lay down, face up, on the bed."
Miki gave another little gasp, looking up at him with shock.
"Do I have to repeat what I said?"
"No," she said, barely a whisper, then, louder, "No."
"Up, into the bedroom. Don't surprise me."
She licked her full lips. "I won't," she said.
She didn't. She was trembling but steady enough. She sat on the edge
of the bed and looked up at him with those lovely big eyes.
"Lay down, spreadeagle, face up." She scooted up onto the bed and lay.
It was a big brass bed, and she stretched out arms and legs. She seemed to
know what he wanted; she grabbed the brass rails above her.
Ted cut sash cords off the bedroom drapes and sat beside her. "Now,
Ma'am. I'm going to tie you to the bed. To do that, I'm going to have to
put the gun down. I want you to close your eyes and lay very still. If
you surprise me, I'll get the gun first. I'll shoot. I won't hesitate.
Understand?"
Miki nodded, her eyes already squeezed shut. "This is for your safety
and mine, you understand. Once I know you're helpless, I won't need to be
so touchy about all this. You'll be safer too."
"You want me helpless," Miki sighed.
"Yes." Ted tied one wrist tightly, moved around the bed and tied the
other, then tugged her ankles down, tying them wide apart. He checked the
bonds carefully. "Good. You can open your eyes. You can scream if you
like. That's no problem." The cabin really was isolated.
Her eyes smouldered. "It wouldn't help," she said simply. Ted checked
her bonds, then went to the kitchen, pulling surgical gloves over his
hands. It took him a moment to find the knife drawer. He selected a big
stainless butcher knife. That would do just fine. The blade was nearly a
foot long.
In the bathroom, he turned on the hot water in the shower, letting it
run. He dampened a big towel in the stream, then carried it back to Miki
in the bedroom. She gasped and squirmed when she saw the knife, but Ted
shook his head, shushing her. "Hush, hush. Don't worry. I just need to
nick your hand, that's all." He took one of her bound hands, and she
clenched her fingers. "If I can make a cut on the inside of your hand, it
will heal quicker." Miki whimpered, tears threatening the corners of her
eyes, but she opened her hand. Ted made a light cut across the ham of her
hand, and dabbed it with the bathtowel.
"What are you doing to me?" Miki wailed. "What are you going to do?"
"Hush. Hush. I haven't hurt you, have I?" He squeezed her heavy
breasts; it surprised him to discover that her large nipples were swollen
erect, fleshy lumps as big as a couple lemons. "I've got twelve inches I'm
going to put inside you. Again and again. That's a lot. Think you'll
like it?"
Miki's voice quavered. "Maybe," she said, trying to smile.
Miki had forgotten the knife; Ted had laid it beside her pillow. "At
least I'll like it. That's what's important, isn't it?
"I'll like it," Miki said, her voice stronger. "I will. I want you."
"Perhaps. Be right back." He took the towel to the bathroom and threw
it in a corner. From a baggy in his shirt pocket, he took a few black
hairs. He sprinkled a couple in the tub and several on the towel. Then a
small baggy of a coarse black dust, sprinkled around the sink and then
wiped away. Miki was twisting against her bonds when he returned.
Ted sat beside her and stroked her body through her clothes. She really
was lovely. He flipped her skirt up; long tanned legs splayed wide, and
tiny red silk panties. They snapped easily when he tugged them, and Miki's
knees pulled together.
Ted popped the top two buttons off her dress, put them in a small
envelope, and placed the envelope in his shirt. Then he took her dress and
ripped it open. The tear stopped at her waist, but he wrenched it harder,
and it parted, revealing her near naked body. Miki had been expecting it;
her eyes were a little wild, but she was calmer than he expected. The bra
was a little tougher. The catch in back gave easily, but breaking the
shoulder straps took more doing, Miki's breasts jouncing and bobbling with
the effort. The last strap gave, leaving a mark on her arm. Miki was
panting, her eyes fierce. She was naked, her nipples swollen eagerly,
moisture showing from her labia.
"You impress me, Miki. Your composure is astonishing."
Miki licked her lips, her eyes dark. "Are you going to fuck me now?"
she asked.
"Do you really want it? Or are you saying that so I won't hurt you?"
"Hurt me. I like it. Make it hurt."
Ted obliged; he pinched a big nipple hard. Miki groaned; her pelvis
rotated upward, seeking impalement. Ted cupped her vulva, pinching even
harder. Miki bucked against his hand, stiffening and squealling softly,
hips rising, buttocks and belly hardening with a fierce, surprising orgasm.
Ted stayed with her, watching her lush body stiffen and writhe, fighting
for her pleasure, fighting the bonds that held her outstretched. Finally,
Miki collapsed, gasping for breath, whimpering as Ted still stroked her wet
vulva. He reached for her other breast, gathered the mass in outspread
fingers, and then knotted his hand around the firm flesh, twisting and
pulling her breast cruelly. Miki sailed off into another string of
orgasms, shorter, but clearly more intense. When she collapsed, sobbing
for breath, one breast had a reddish handprint, the other a nipple bruised
and darkening. Ted examined the surgical glove on his hand as she gasped.
He wanted to make certain he hadn't broken the delicate film of rubber. He
hadn't.
"Fuck me now, please," Miki gasped.
"Yeah. I wish I could. I really do. You're as hot as they come,
Miki."
Miki was still squirming, gulping for air, but she still realized: "How
do you know my name?"
"I want you to do something for me, Miki," Ted said, getting the small
recorder from his kit. "Record a message for Jake. You should say, 'Jake,
I'm at the cabin. I want you. Please come up here, now.'"
"What? Why?" Miki glared at him, still catching her breath. "Who are
you?"
Ted shrugged. "I'm going to call Jake. If I give you the phone, you
might blurt something and give it away. We record it first, the way I want
it, and then I'll play it for him."
"You're a friend of Jake's."
Ted held the recorder to her mouth. "I'm at the cabin, Jake. I want
you."
He turned the recorder on. Miki hesitated, then, "I'm at the cabin,
Jake. Please come up. I want you." Her voice quavered, and then she
added, "I want you so bad, baby. I want you in my ass. Please." Her eyes
were beginning to tear. "I want your cock, baby. I want it.." She was
still speaking when Ted turned off the recorder. "I want your cock," Miki
said to Ted. "Please, why won't you fuck me?"
Ted rewound the tape as he dialed the phone beside the bed. "Don't say
a word, all right? I'll do more than hurt you."
Miki's eyes smoldered, and her cheeks were wet, but she bit her bottom
lip, and nodded. Jake answered on the second ring, and Ted played the
tape. "...I want your cock ba-" He hung up the phone and started the timer
on his watch. "Best time here from his place is thirty-eight minutes.
That's if he speeds. We have a few minutes yet."
"You're a friend of Jake's. You set this up so he could have me. Do
things to me."
Ted smiled vaguely at her as he reached in his kit. Three fat
hypodermics without needles, filled with something milky. "Open your
mouth," Ted said. Miki glared. "Open it, or I'll force it open. I don't
care." Miki hesitated, then let her jaw drop a bit. Ted squirted one of
the hypos across her tongue, letting the stream dribble down her chin and
throat, emptying it across her breasts. He smeared it into her breasts.
Miki tasted and made a face as Ted took the other hypodermics and moved to
her hips. She stiffened as he inserted each in turn into her vagina and
emptied them.
"What is it? What are you doing?"
"It's Jake's semen. An associate of mine collected it. She sucked him
off four times in one night to get this stuff. He's quite the stud, your
Jake." He took the baggy from his shirt pocket and dumped a small clump of
black hair on her belly. He picked the clump apart, putting some in her
pubic hair, some on the bedcovers, some on her sticky breasts. "Jake's
hair," he explained.
"What are you doing? I don't understand." Miki sounded bewildered and a
little frightened.
"You don't need to. Don't worry about it."
"You could fuck me. Before Jake gets here. You could. I wouldn't
tell."
Ted ignored her. He collected his kit, making certain he'd picked up
everything, then went through the cabin, revisiting every place he'd been,
making sure there was no indication he'd been there. The bathroom was
filled with steam; he turned the shower off. He took his kit back to the
stolen plumber's van and started the engine, leaving it idling.
Back in the bedroom, Miki was struggling against her bonds. She stopped
when she saw him. "No, go ahead," Ted grinned. "Keep fighting the ropes.
I don't mind."
"What are you doing? Why are you doing all this?" There was a curious
mixture of outrage and panic in her voice.
Ted checked his watch. "We have a few minutes. I suppose we can chat."
He stroked her body, from her delicate knee, her thigh, across her
voluptuous belly to her heavy breasts. "You are a beautiful woman. I wish
I could fuck you."
Miki squirmed licentiously. "You can. You can have me. I'm helpless.
You can do anything you want to me." There was fear in her voice, but
something else as well: desire.
Ted cupped her breasts, molding and teasing them. Her nipples swelled
to life again, one of them purplish from his punishment.
"You're starting to realize aren't you? You already know what's going
on."
Miki caught her breath. "You're going to kill me. Kill me and frame
Jake."
"Bingo. You impress me, Miki. You really are perceptive." Ted slid his
finger to her pelvis. Her clit was hard as a pebble; Miki actually
shivered and closed her eyes for a moment as he stroked it delicately. "It
excites you?"
"N-no," Miki gasped; then she stiffened in orgasm, her breasts quivering
as she came. Ted helped her along with his fingers, and then sat back when
she subsided. "It's Jake, isn't it?" she sobbed. "I was going to break up
with him. I tried to."
"I know," Ted said gently.
"I love George. He's been so loving. I was trying to make it right, to
be a good wife. Can't you tell him that?"
"I already know all that."
"I'll be faithful. I promise. You don't have to kill me. I love
George. I really do. I didn't at first."
"I know all that," Ted said. "If you patch things up with your husband,
I can't kill you. If I can't kill you, I don't earn my money. Nothing
personal, understand."
"George is paying you? He knew?"
"Already paid me, to be exact. So there's nothing you can do."
"No. Wait. I have money. If you kill George, I'll have a lot of
money. You can do that, can't you? Kill George?"
"I thought you loved him," Ted said mildly.
Miki fell silent, then glared at him defiantly. Ted checked his watch,
then picked up the heavy butcher knife and began untying Miki's left wrist.
Miki squealled when he jerked her arm across her chest and made several
quick, chopping cuts to the outside of her forearm. She sobbed as he
pinned her arm beside her again.
"Defense wounds," Ted said. Miki whimpered.
"It goes like this. Jake comes, and then ties you up; kinky little
games, okay? A little fuck and suck. Then, silly girl, you try to break
it off again while you're still tied up. He gets mad. Hurts your breasts.
You argue. He runs to the kitchen and gets this-" Ted held up the butcher
knife, then paused, considering. Miki watched him with a terrible
fascination, her breath coming fast. "Okay, he's mister stud, right? So
he sticks his cock in you. 'If I can't have you, nobody can,' and he goes
at it, fucking and stabbing. No belly wounds, of course, because he's got
his cock in you. Chest wounds, though. Lots of them, hard and fast,
because he's angry. You manage to get one hand free while he's getting the
knife, so your arm gets cut up, but it's not good enough, is it? You die.
He's got blood all over him, so he takes a shower. Runs away, whatever; we
don't care after that. George gets your life insurance; Jake just gets
life."
Ted set the knife on her belly for a moment and checked his watch.
"Well, it's just about time. Will you do something for me?" He picked up
the knife again.
"What?"
"Turn your head away and close your eyes."
"You're going to kill me." Her voice was steady, though she was panting.
"Of course I am. You don't want to watch, believe me."
"No." Miki glared at him with molten eyes.
"Suit yourself." The blade made a wet sllk sound as it went into her
chest, just inside her left breast. Miki's mouth formed a scream, but
nothing came out, and her body stiffened, forming a hard arc from shoulders
to ankles, rising and straining off the bed, her breasts quivering tightly.
"Ouch," Ted said, keeping his hand on the knife for a moment. "Right
into your heart," he told Miki. "I can feel the throb through the knife."
He stroked her flat, hard belly for a moment. "We'll leave it there for a
minute, and then finish things. We don't want your heart beating too
vigorously if we cut an artery or something. You'd make a bloody mess, and
we don't want that, do we?"
He let her free hand go and she grabbed weakly at the knife buried in
her chest. Ted stroked her belly a moment longer, then pressed her back to
the bed. He stabbed her chest a dozen more times. Shhk, Miki's mouth
filled with blood when he pierced a lung. Shhk, chk, and red gashes
appeared on firm, tanned breasts, welling rich blood. He stabbed the
hollow of her throat; Miki's free hand flopped aimlessly beside her. He
slammed the blade downward into the upper slope of her left breast,
gratified when the tip emerged from the underside. The last lunge went
into her right nipple, and Ted leaned into it hard, feeling it come out the
other side of her body. The knife handle dimpled her breast deeply. That
was enough. He left the knife there.
"Excellent performance, Miki." She stared sightlessly; her left thigh
shivered and went still. Ted smeared blood across her belly, careful to
make it look as if Jake had been pressed against her, then scooped up some
of the blood pooling under her and dribbled it to the bathroom. He washed
his gloved hands there, leaving traces of red in the sink and went out the
door, leaving it slightly ajar.
The last little detail wasn't really necessary, but it was a nice touch.
He drove onto the main road and parked, then took a footpath back to Miki's
cabin. As soon as Jake pulled up and ran into the house, Ted flipped one
of the buttons from Miki's dress into his car. The other, he left behind a
front tire. When Jake backed up to leave, his tire tracks would be on top
of the button. If the cops weren't really stupid, they'd catch it. If
they missed it, well, then they were stupid. Either way, they wouldn't
look farther than Jake.
Back at the road, he stopped at a call to 911, screams and yelling at a
neighbor's cabin, then drove the stolen van downtown. From there he took a
cab to the airport.
***
Three hours later, Ted was on a plane to Rio De Jainero, sipping wine in
first class. He was scheduled for an encounter with two American women, a
pretty redhead, and her sixteen year old daughter. Latino men loved
American women, and they loved redheads. They were jealous types, too, and
this woman apparently couldn't settle for one man. His client had actually
adopted the daughter, which meant she had rights to his estate. It was a
shame, but she had to go too. He had charged double for her, because the
girl was innocent, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd done an innocent
woman. It was supposed to look like an assassination, a rebel sniper sort
of thing. It was going to be an easy one, quick and clean. Business was
good.
"Can I get you anything? The flight attendent asked. Her name was
Karen; she was a slim black woman with high, prominent buttocks and small
hard breasts. Ted got a good view as she leaned over him. Small brown
breasts nestled in a tiny black film of a bra, generous black nipples that
came to points. She smiled at him admiring her breasts.
"What are you offering?"
She had a wide, elvin smile and sparkling eyes. "If my husband heard
you say that, he would kill you. He's very possessive."
"Really. Do you live in Rio?"
"No. Chicago."
"Are you meeting your husband in Rio?"
She smiled indulgently. "Would you like a pillow? I'll get you a
pillow." When she returned, she reached around him, settling the pillow
behind his neck.
"I suppose your husband is some mafia type that hires men to kill your
suitors," Ted asked.
She laughed out loud. "He's a controller for a bank. He is very
jealous, though. Doesn't that scare you?"
"Only if it scares you."
Another attendent came past and Karen straightened subtly. "And what do
you do for business, sir?"
The attendent passed. "I'm a professional ladykiller," Ted said.
Karen smiled broadly. She had a lovely smile. "Well, I'm safe then,
aren't I? I'm not always a lady." The slip of paper she dropped in his lap
had a phone number, a Rio exchange. "But maybe you can kill me anyway,"
she murmured.
"Maybe so," Ted grinned. He watched her shapely brown legs as she
walked back up the aisle. Maybe so.
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