The Not Entirely Complete Works of Peter Schulman

©2005 Peter Schulman

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The Ultimate Revenge

Not a day goes by that I don't think of that day. Nor do I ever expect a day to pass without recalling it. I remember the events in meticulous detail.

It started less than a week before that day. Doug had returned from a business trip early Sunday afternoon.

He is a superlative salesman and this trip was his most successful ever. The commission he earned from this sale would have paid off the remaining 25 years of our mortgage in a single payment.

In spite of the magnitude of the success, he was acting strangely. He had trouble meeting my eyes and was uncharacteristically quiet. I asked him what was wrong, but he denied that there were any problems.

It is not in his nature to lie and he is very bad at keeping things from me. I didn't even have to press him. On Sunday night he came clean.

"You know the kinds of things I have to do to connect with the clients, to lubricate the social wheels. Well, the client wanted to celebrate so they took us to a tittie bar. I objected, but that was what they wanted to do and you pretty much have to keep the client happy."

"That's your big problem? They took you to a strip club? What happened, did they get you a lap dance?"

"No. I refused. But they took the party back to the hotel and they hired one of the strippers for a private party. I was drinking along with them and it became more difficult for me to argue against it. Well, it seems they paid her to do more than strip. Both of them and Tom fucked her. I wasn't interested in any of that, but it was kind of hot."

I was kind of hot. I was getting ready to tear into him but, I decided to wait. It might not have been as bad as my imagination.

"Then everybody was saying it was my turn and I absolutely refused. She came over, put her arms around me and rubbed her naked body against me. It was very sexy, but I still told them I wouldn't cheat on you."

That sounded like Doug. So why was he still telling me this story?

"And then Larry, the guy who signs the contract, said okay, they wouldn't do anything that would hurt my marriage, they wouldn't force me to cheat on you. But he said she could give me a blowjob; the President said that wasn't cheating, it wasn't sex. I argued, but they all kept pushing for her to give me the blowjob. And, well, you know it's easier to do something in a group that you would never do by yourself. So I gave in and let her blow me. I've felt terrible about it since I woke up and I just couldn't keep it from you."

"The President says it's not sex so you get a free pass?" I was almost shouting.

"Well, no. I told you I felt terrible about it. I'm really sorry. I'd do anything if I could take it back. I'll do anything to make it up to you."

"There isn't anything you can do to make it up to me, you bastard. You cheated on me." I confess that I was about as angry as I have ever been. How could the love of my life do that to me? I had never, would never cheat on him.

"There isn't anything you can do, but I can. You're going to pay for this." I walked out of the room and started to consider what I was going to do to get even with him.

The first thing I did was to move his pillow to the guest bedroom. I banished him there for the rest of the week. I decided upon a course of revenge and made all the arrangements in the ensuing days. I set the plan in motion at lunch on Saturday; I snuck some sleeping pills into his coffee. He told me he was tired and was going up to take a nap.

I took the baby up to the nursery and put her down for her nap. She would sleep the remainder of the afternoon.

I gave him an hour and then checked in on him. He was dead to the world. I took the rope I had bought during the week and methodically tied him to the bed. I tightened all the ropes at the end in case he woke up, but he was too far under to even stir. I fastened them so snugly that he couldn't possibly free himself. Then I made the phone call.

I went down and unlocked the front door and returned to the bedroom to wait for him to wake up. I read a book while I waited. It took another hour.

"What the hell have you done, Helen? I can't move. What's going on here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I gave you sleeping pills to gain control of you and I've tied you up. Now I'm going to have my revenge. You know Henry Marks, don't you?" Of course he knows Henry; he works with him. And he detests him. Henry is full of himself, pushy, arrogant; a thoroughly unpleasant man. "I'm going downstairs and I'm going to fuck him until I've had my fill. But don't worry, you're not going to miss it. I'm going to have him, and he's going to have me, in the playroom. It will all be captured by the nanny cam. And when we're done, I'm going to bring the tape up here and play it for you. You will wait, won't you?"

"Helen, I got a blowjob wearing a condom from a stranger when I was drunk. You're going to fuck somebody I work with for as long as you want and make me watch. That's so completely over the top compared to what I did. How will I be able to show my face at work when he tells everybody about this?"

"Yes, well, this is massive retaliation. You're right. But you brought it on yourself and I can't think of a better way to make sure you never do something like this again. Certainly none of those hot secretaries in your office will be interested in a man whose wife invited over a piece of shit like Henry to fuck her under your nose."

"Helen, don't do this!"

"Doug, you're shouting. You don't want to wake the baby do you?" I took a pair of my soiled panties and stuffed them in his mouth. He could make noise, but it wasn't very loud and was not at all understandable. "Doug, I love you so much. I'm doing this for us. I'm doing this to make sure we don't have to face a crisis like this again."

He was trying to shout something, but I couldn't make it out.

"I'll see you later, darling."

I left to join Henry in the playroom. He wasn't just confident after being invited over for this, he was almost smarmy. But I decided that if I was going to do this, at least I should try to enjoy it. Doug had probably enjoyed his blowjob and I owed it to him to enjoy this as much as I could to not only pay him back, but to ensure that it would never happen again.

I had spread around a dozen candles and I lit them to create a romantic atmosphere to exact the maximum amount of pain from Doug. I dimmed the lights and turned on the stereo. Doug had been entertained with a strip, Henry would be as well.

I wore my lacy, Victoria's Secret black matching bra and panties under a short black dress briefly held up by spaghetti straps. The strip was symbolic so I didn't spend much time disrobing. I tried to do it sensually, but teasing was not important as all three of us knew what was going to be happening here.

After I stripped, I turned off the music because I thought it might be possible for Doug to hear us later as long as there was no extraneous noise. I unbuttoned Henry's shirt and unbuckled his belt.

"You are such a slut."

I spoke softly because I didn't want it picked up by the nanny cam. "If you want to go home right now with that hard on, keep talking to me with disrespect, you jerk." I smiled for the camera.

"Oh, baby, you are so hot." That was more like it.

"Let me see that big dick of yours." I pushed down his trousers and his boxers. It was nothing special. I whispered, "Take off your shoes, fool." I smiled for the camera.

He was supposed to be a skirt chaser. I hoped he would not be as inept as he had seemed to be to this point.

He fumbled with the shoes and almost fell over. I had to suppress a laugh.

I took his hand and led him to the couch. "Do me good lover." I was enjoying this even before the sex started, savoring the sweetness of my brutal revenge.

Truth be told, Henry was at least competent. We started kissing, but he didn't seem to want to waste too much time on that and moved his head down to take a nipple in his mouth and suck. He moved to the other one and began using his hands on my breasts as well. Then he started running his hands down my sides over my hips. He didn't have time for the frills, like getting me aroused. I was going to have to work on that myself. It wouldn't be easy. I could see why Doug didn't like him. He was a pretty disagreeable guy. I tried to concentrate on the sensations and the nerve endings God gave me so I would enjoy this kind of thing.

He moved his fingers to my lips. He knew what to do there. He was gentle and took his time. He took my hand with his other hand and brought it down to his erection. I had to start thinking of this in less clinical terms if I was going to enjoy it. I concentrated and brought up a fantasy to help. He was Doug making love to me. How ironic that my strongest fantasy was to be with my husband. His fingers slid easily inside. He rubbed against my g-spot. It was a little early for that, but it was nice. He added two fingers and moved them all around.

I stroked him lightly. He was sufficiently aroused that I didn't want to do anything to get him off too quickly.

He slid a finger to my clit and caressed it. A jolt of pleasure coursed through me. Doug pressed a little harder and my arousal soared. Now I was feeling a bit of need. I reached around to his ass and pulled him between my legs. He needed no further urging. He buried himself inside me in a single stroke. I pushed back up at him.

He started to increase his pace which was fine with me. I had an orgasm building and I was greedy; I wanted it now. The others could follow later. I clutched his cheeks to assist the speed and the power. And then I was there, screaming out a climax. "Yes Doug! Fuck me harder, faster. Don't stop."

"I'm not Doug, bitch." He pounded away. The couch was shaking. It was moving. It bumped sharply into the end table.

My passion was increasing. A second orgasm followed and then a third. I was on fire. Shit, I was on fire.

I pushed him off me. The drapes and the couch were burning. We had knocked over a candle from the end table. I panicked for a moment and just watched as more of the room became engulfed in flames. Then I acted. I grabbed my dress and put it on along with the panties and shoes. I had no time for the bra. "Call 911. Get the fire department. The phone is in the kitchen," I yelled to him.

Carla! I turned and dashed up the two flights of stairs to the nursery. I grabbed Carla from her crib, pulled open a drawer on the changing table and withdrew a warm blanket to wrap her in. I ran down the stairs and out the front door. Henry was out there in his pants and shirt. He had managed to take his shoes as well. Oh, my God, Doug. I gave Carla to Henry and dashed back in the house.

The stairs were now enveloped in flames. I tried to run up them, but it was too hot. I got burned and I knew I would never make it up to the bedroom and back down safely.

I ran outside and heard the sirens and saw the lights flashing on the fire trucks. I rushed to the first fireman I could find. "Hurry, my husband is in the bedroom in the back and he can't get out."

"Where is it?"

"On the left looking from the back."

"Jack, bring a ladder and hurry," he said.

They ran around to the back of the house, set the ladder against it and climbed up. He took an axe and smashed in the window to gain entrance. Jack followed him in. They exited the window and climbed down the ladder barely a minute later.

"I'm sorry lady. We had to get out. It's too bad in there. I couldn't get him untied. What the hell were you doing in there?"

I had no answer.

I remember every detail. I remember it every evening as I sit here in my cell, prisoner number 24601.

I pled guilty to voluntary manslaughter. Depraved indifference they called it. My lawyer said the phrase has been around for a long time, but I think they invented it just for me. There is no better description.

I got 5 years.

This is the easy part. They tell me when to get up. They tell me when to go to sleep. They tell me when to eat and what to eat; when to go to the bathroom. They tell me when to work and what I am to do. This is easy. What happens after I'm released? What happens when I can use any waking moment of the day to remember what I have done?

How were his last moments? Did the superheated air mercifully sear his lungs making them instantly useless, to suffocate quickly from lack of oxygen? Or did he feel his flesh bubble up and burn, the plastic from his watchband melting into his flesh, the pain unimaginable?

What were his last thoughts?

Was he thinking about the pain? Or was he thinking about how the person he most trusted in this world to keep him from harm drugged him, bound him and took his life? Was he thinking about the betrayal of the person he loved most in this life, the one person he would go to for help when he was in his most dire staits?

As his flesh was melting was he wondering how he could have been so wrong, how I could have so little regard for him that I would allow him to die out of some misguided notion of revenge?

Was he still alive and aware enough to know that I had at least tried, when the firemen broke into the bedroom and tried to free him? Or was it already too late?

I will take very good care of myself. I will eat right. I will exercise. I will do everything I can to ensure that I have a very long life. I will do whatever it takes to maximize the days I have to relive my actions and their consequences. It is only fair. It is the ultimate revenge that I am visiting on the person most deserving of it - myself.