The Seven Deadly Sins: Rage

byVandemonium1

I apologise for this story briefly being pulled from Literotica , but someone reported it. Frustrated that their attempt to one-bomb the story was unsuccessful (the score still rose over 4 before it was pulled) they invented a reason to report it. In the first 30 minutes of its first foray into the Lit world, i.e. before anyone even had time to read it, the story had 35 votes and was scoring near 1. Someone on this site has access to at least 30 votes. Please join me in feeling sorry for that person. They have nothing better to do with their life than take petty pot shots. Maybe they should re-divert their time to more healthy pursuits, like moving out of their mom’s basement, actually getting a PhD or two, or finding an actual partner and having children.

Recently, there was a pickaxe handle free story event hosted here. Please accept this story as a ‘palate-cleanser’ after that. Thanks to Nancyharpman17 for contributing to this story and XTCH for editing services. CTC, only had to do a final polish.

This is another one about a man given two choices he doesn’t like so he finds a third.

Warning, this is what XTCH said about this one, “Wow! When you go dark you really turn off all the lights.” If you don’t like extreme justice, better give this one a miss. It’s about as extreme as my ‘Dave and the Sociopath’.

In many cheating wife stories here, when caught, the cheater is remorseful. What if they aren’t…

My apologies to anyone trying to contact me via the feedback portal. It still doesn’t work. You can get me via CTC’s and my joint profile, SemperAmare.

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Dave always keeps his promises. He drove home from work slowly, pondering the sad state of his marriage. Things were bad enough that a normal man would have requested a divorce long ago. But Dave wasn’t a normal man.

He hadn’t known Lisa well in high school, as she’d been two years below him. He remembered she’d been one of the late developers; plain and flat-chested long after her peers were well into womanhood. It wasn’t until he’d graduated from university and moved back to town, courted and married her, that the disturbing conversations started. Not with her, but with fellow high school alumni. More than a few acquaintances expressed surprise that a rising star such as him would marry someone like her. Unable to resist, Dave had pressed them for details.

Dave built up a picture of a young girl who had confused sexual promiscuity with popularity. You saw them in school. The plain or overweight ones who put out because that ensured them lots of attention. The logic being, I have all these guys hanging around me, therefore I must be popular and attractive. To butcher a famous philosophical quote, I fuck therefore I am. Mature reflection proved the fundamental flaw in this logic. Teenage boys will screw absolutely anything. Dave surmised that Lisa had probably realised one day, one week, or one month, where she really stood in the beauty stakes, with the added suspicion that she was now a slut.

He suspected that even after she finally developed and morphed into the nice-bodied, well above average looking young woman, she still had major confidence issues.

Their eight-year marriage started out with the usual passion. Dave was world wise enough to know that the passion would fade over time, unless it was constantly the focus of effort on both their parts. He put in all the effort he possessed to keep things fresh, but that hadn’t stopped their sex life dwindling to practically nothing over the last half year. In fact, he’d reached the point of giving up badgering her for sex, simply to avoid the smack in his confidence’s face he inevitably received.

Thinking back on it, he was pretty sure he knew the reason for the abrupt cold shoulder behaviour. Since Dave, MD, had started work at the huge cosmetic surgery clinic three years prior, Lisa had been applying gentle pressure for some free improvements. Breast enhancement had been mentioned, as had face and ass lifts. This was when his suspicions about her fundamental confidence issues really solidified. He knew he was as biased as any husband, but he seriously believed Lisa was as perfect as could be and didn’t need anything to improve her thirty-three-year old body. Certainly not enough to warrant the possible side effects of any treatment. Lisa appeared to lap up all his words and attention but still the gentle pressure remained.

At some stage in the silent battle, Dave’s acquiescence to her demands, became linked to Dave’s conjugal rights and his continued stubbornness became the cause of his continued frustration. Still he remained unmoved. One of the biggest problems was his fundamental disrespect of his patients. He knew he lived in a shallow society, where rich women were willing to risk all to look that little bit younger; that little bit better. Take Botox treatment, for example. Talk about truth in advertising. Botox is a contraction of Botulinum Toxin. Day after day Dave injected toxins into women that looked pretty good already, just to feed the dream that they could look as good as the airbrushed models gracing the glossy pages of the thousands of magazines out there. Every time he explained the risks; partial paralysis or worse, he might as well have been talking Chinese.

If forced to put a date on the last change in Lisa’s behaviour, Dave would have said about five weeks prior. The secret smiles, the new glow on her face, the lips swollen, perhaps from kissing, and the subtle behaviour changes, adding up to the growing suspicion that Lisa might be fooling around on him. The main reason he was going home on time for once was to ask a direct question. It was time to bring things to a head. If she admitted cheating, then he would propose a quick, fair divorce. He no longer had the will to fight for his marriage. She could have no doubt that infidelity would end it, they had discussed it often enough.

The prospect of divorce did not alarm Dave. He knew exactly where he stood in the visual and social pecking order. The unremitting aggressive flirting he received from patients and clinic staff, constantly reminded him of that. It did disturb him slightly, though. Divorce was a failure of marriage and he wasn’t used to failure.

He pulled into the driveway at 5.30p.m., wondering when the last occasion he’d returned home on time was. There was Lisa’s car. There was also another car that looked vaguely familiar. A car way too scruffy to belong to any self-respecting woman. Besides, Lisa had very few female friends. With a premonition of dread, Dave entered his house. The sounds of two people enjoying sex assaulted Dave as soon as he opened the door. Feeling numb, he walked straight into the master bedroom. There was Lisa being pounded missionary style by a muscular blond man. On pure reflex, Dave walked to the bed, grabbed a handful of blond hair and pulled upwards. With a squeal, the guy lifted himself to stop the pain, allowing Dave to guide him to the other side of the bed and deposit him on his back. With shock, Dave recognised Stewart, one of the technicians from the clinic.

Opening her eyes at the sudden release of weight, Lisa looked at Dave. Making no attempt to cover her nudity she blurted, “Dave, this isn’t what it looks like. I can explain.” Shocked, Dave could only look from Lisa’s relatively impassive face to Stewart’s smug smile. With him totally at a loss for words, Lisa continued. “Well, that wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would be. Bit of a waste really. Dave, darling, I don’t suppose you’d agree to watch us, would you? That would be so hot for me. No, I thought not.”

With her husband still standing mute by the side of the bed, Lisa reached under her pillow, pulled out a black device and quickly brought it to his thigh. The sudden 6,000 volts threw Dave to the floor. He realised it was the Taser he had protectively bought Lisa two years earlier. He registered nothing more until he felt a moist cloth being held over his mouth and nose. He only had time to sense an acrid, yet sweet smell, before everything went dark.

Dave dreamed. He was on a medieval rack torture machine. He was being crushed under a fallen tree. Something was licking his nose. Sudden light briefly pierced him as he opened his eyes, only to be obscured by a penis hovering mere inches above his face. In reflex, he tried to bring his arms up to push the owner of the member away. They wouldn’t move. Confused by a flash, amongst many other things, he turned his head to the side. Well that explained his immobility. He saw his right arm secured to the bedpost of their king-sized bed by a scrap of what looked like torn up sheet. Out of his line of sight he heard Lisa say, “That will do. Come and have a look.”

The weight was released as Stewart moved from his position straddling Dave’s chest and walked to where Lisa was holding a camera. Dave briefly examined both restrained arms then tried to move his legs, only to discover they were also securely tied. He used all his considerable strength to attempt breaking his arm bonds by brute force but all it did was hurt his wrists. He focused on the conversation.

“Delete that one, it shows my face.”

“Right. Oh, that’s a good one. That’s it, five is enough.”

“Go and show our star, he’s awake.”

Lisa approached the bed and lay next to Dave, her head on his shoulder.

“Aren’t these hot, Dave? Particularly this one.”

The camera was thrust into his face showing a head shot of himself with a penis nudging his lips. He fought the sudden nausea. As he lay there, shocked into muteness, Lisa scrolled through the other photos. One of Stewart apparently riding him cowboy and three of Stewart with Dave’s cock in his mouth. None of the photos showed Stewart’s face clearly, but all showed Dave’s.

Finally, Dave found his voice. It came out of a mouth that tasted of what he now recognised as ether.

“What the fuck are you doing, Lisa?”

“Come on, Dave, isn’t it obvious?”

At that point Stewart grabbed Lisa’s legs and pulled them away from Dave’s body. They ended up about forty-five degrees off his body line. He spread her legs and lay on her stomach, nuzzling the left breast. Dave looked on in horror. Something inside him snapped.

“You touch her once again, shithead, and I can promise you a slow horrible death. I know just how to do it, I’m a doctor.”

With an exclamation of, “I’m not listening to this shit”, Stewart got to his feet again. He groped round under the bed and retrieved a spare scrap of sheet, quickly securing in over Dave’s mouth.

“He’s not serious is he, Lisa?”

“Don’t fret yourself, Stew. He took an oath never to harm anyone, remember? And, unlike someone else we both know, he takes his oaths seriously.” The last was said with an evil grin, totally alien to Dave. Who was this person?

Dave was even more confused now. These people must know there would be some serious retribution. Why didn’t either of them look worried?

As Stewart walked back around to Lisa’s side of the bed, she rolled over and got on her hands and knees, presenting her ass to her lover. Her head was inches away from her husband’s. Without ceremony, Stewart drove into her.

“You know, Dave, for a smart guy you can be awfully dumb sometimes. Ugh. By the time I left high school I was pretty much bored with sex, I’d had so much of it. When I met you, I tried to go straight, I really did. I was a good girl the whole time we were dating and our first, uh, four years. Hey, meathead, slow down a bit, I’m trying to talk to my husband here!”

“Then I just got bored, I suppose, living a life of leisure and luxury. Then, one time while you were away, I went out with the girls, got a bit tipsy and ended up in some guy’s bed. Oh, Dave, it was fabulous. Just like the old days. Sure, I felt a bit guilty, uh, but then I realised that the guilt was a big turn on. I cheated on you pretty much continuously for the next three years. Trouble was, uh, it got old after that. Sure, it was exciting dreaming up ways to prevent, uh, uh, you finding out, but even that got stale. For the last year I’ve been pushing the limit, not giving too much of a shit if you caught me. Christ, once you came in while I still had a guy, uh, here. He was actually hiding in the closet when you came home. I blew him while you were in the shower.”

“Aw, don’t look at me like that, dear. That got old, so I dreamt up this idea of having a threesome and slipping in some humiliation for you as well. You have to admit; this is hot, isn’t it?”

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations for a minute, shuddering as a climax ripped through her body. It was half a minute before she was able to gasp, “The best thing though, Dave, is that there is fuck all you can do about it. Ooh, that was nice. No, dear, you’re going to behave yourself and in public we are going to act like nothing has changed. I’ll still be your loving wife. I will, however, be spending more time at the beach house. I’ve got some serious experimenting to do. If you play along like a good boy, I’ll even throw you a bone every now and then. Ooh, yeah, go, Stewy, go.”

With only his eyes usable, Dave tried to show his contempt for Lisa’s plan with a killer look.

Lisa giggled.

“I can see you haven’t worked it out yet. God, Dave, I knew you were naïve, but you’re not stupid. Okay, you need me to spell it out. Uh, for fuck’s sake, Stew, I told you to slow down! You see, Dave, you have exactly two choices. First, you can continue to support me in the style to which I’ve become accustomed, with me free to do whatever I like. Who knows, I may even get bored with it all and we can settle down and have those kids you keep nagging about. All it will cost you is a little humiliation. I’ll be discrete, of course, after all I have a reputation to protect. Oh, and one more thing, you will be doing whatever work on me I ask for. You will be giving me bigger tits and tightening my ass a bit. In fact, anything I tell you to, okay?”

Dave shook his head vigorously from side to side.

“Oh, you haven’t spotted the alternative, have you? That is where I let these photos go public and file for divorce. I’ll be heartbroken in court, of course. Crying, when I explain that I really did try to go along with your bi fantasies, but it all became just too much for sweet little innocent me. How do you think the divorce will go, Dave? Where do you think you’ll work? Not in this town, that’s for sure. Think about it, Dave, two choices.”

At that point, Lisa shuffled sideways and took Dave’s limp member in her mouth. He desperately tried to resist responding, but Lisa was just too good. There was also the fact that it had been a very long time between drinks. Within a minute, Little Dave was rampant. Lisa paused in her ministrations.

“Good boy, looks like you’re going to make the wise choice. I would have hated to divorce you. I guess in my own way I do kind of love you.”

Dave just stared at her incredulously. He knew the monster before him was incapable of love. Lisa ignored his look and returned to her blowjob and moaning. She tried spiritedly to make Dave cum, but that proved impossible. She gave up.

“You know, there’s one thing I’ve always wanted to try.”

At that point she extracted herself from Stewart’s cock and straddled Dave. He thrashed his hips around but all that did was delay his entry. Stewart wasn’t happy.

“Hey, what about me?”

“Far out, stupid, do I have to spell it out to you?”

She reached toward the bedside cabinet, opened the top drawer and threw him the tub of lube. Stewart’s eyes lit up. He grinned at both figures on the bed as he smeared the gel on his cock. Once he was satisfied with his efforts, he knelt behind Lisa. Dave recoiled as he felt Stewart’s member sliding along his, only the thin membranes of Lisa’s vaginal and bowel walls separating them. He looked into the rapturous face of his wife. This was obviously not the first time she’d had a cock in her ass. Sickened, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Lisa started screaming.

“Fuck, this is so hot!”

The screams stopped when Dave’s fully deflated manhood slipped out of her vagina. He opened his eyes when the pain from her slap stung his face.

“You cunt! I’ve been looking forwards to this for years. You just have to spoil it, don’t….?”

She stopped when she saw the look in Dave’s eye. It should have been a look of defeat and humiliation. It wasn’t. It was a look of pure hatred, one that made her recoil reflexively. Dave saw the flicker of fear in her eyes.

Stewart, blissfully ignorant of the interchange, grunted and unloaded deep in Lisa’s bowels. With him finished, and Lisa’s mood ruined temporarily, they decided to call it a night. Both got dressed.

“Let’s go to your place for the night, Stew. I’ll see you in the car. Don’t forget the camera.”

As the big blond technician walked past the bed on his way out, he threw at Dave, “See you later, Mister High And Mighty Doctor Man. I think we’ll talk about a pay rise Monday, shall we?”

Lisa walked out of the room with Stewart but came back shortly after with a knife. Dave watched as moment by moment her courage returned. She sat on the bed.

“Don’t blame meathead for this. He’s not that bright and easily led. I used him to set all this up. He supplies me with something I need. Something you refused to give me. I shouldn’t need him much longer and he will be out of our lives. Remember what I said, little mouse, there’s no point thinking you’re a tiger. I have you by the balls and you know it. I don’t want to destroy you, but I won’t hesitate if you give me no choice.”

With that she cut the cords on his left hand, put the knife within reach and bolted.

Dave quickly cut the bonds on his remaining tied arm and legs. He sat on the side of the bed, naked, until his circulation fully recovered, all the while chanting to himself, ‘No choice.’

He skated on the edge of insanity. Everything he thought he’d known in his marriage had been smashed, turned upside down, pissed on.

Until an hour earlier he’d had a beautiful wife whom he loved and who he’d thought loved him, despite her cold behaviour of recent times. The fact that she’d never loved him, had treated him with contempt secretly for four years, and was now willing to destroy him, was such a huge change in perception that the sheer enormity of it wouldn’t sink in.

‘No choice.’ He was a man that liked to be in control. Be in charge of his own destiny. Now, that control had been totally removed. ‘No choice.’ His destiny was now in the hands of a dangerously deranged bitch who stated that she wouldn’t hesitate to destroy him. After thirty minutes of chaos, Dave’s racing mind began to settle into one train of thought. If he’d stopped for long enough to analyse it, he would have realised that the word to describe that train was, ‘outraged.’

But what could he do? He had no choice. Why did he have no choice? Because of five photographs. How could he regain control? Easy. Burn the camera. Burn the person holding the camera. Burn the house of the person holding the camera.

Deep down, Dave realised he’d been skating on the verge of insanity. He assumed that since he was still thinking rationally, he’d fallen back from the brink. Being new to insanity he never recognised that when he’d fallen, he’d gone over the edge. Fifty-five minutes after releasing itself, the monster arose.

It realised that once the photos were accounted for, the choices were almost infinite. The only scenario he could imagine not winning, was a fair fight. In the court of public opinion, he knew sweet little innocent Lisa would win over big, tough Dave. So be it. No fair fight then.

Dave dressed and went into the kitchen. Two minutes, and one good old untraceable telephone book later, he had Stewart’s address. With grim determination he headed for the front door. A flash of reflected light from the occasional table next to the door demanded his attention. He picked up Lisa’s keys and noted a shiny newly-cut key he didn’t recognise. With a manic smile, he pocketed the whole set. On refection, he went back into the house and retrieved a pair of latex gloves from his first aid kit and a small flashlight.

Arriving at the target address, he parked three doors down and walked casually past the duplex apartment. All the lights were on. He snuck back, leapt the fence and peered into the lounge. What greeted him was a scene of domestic bliss. The happy couple were snuggled on the couch, empty pizza box on the coffee table, watching a movie. From his vantage point, Dave watched for another hour and a half until Stewart removed his arm from around Lisa’s shoulder and slipped his hand down the front of her pants. Lisa squirmed briefly before turning to give her lover a kiss. After a further five minutes, they both retired to the bedroom after turning the lights off.

Dave gave them a further twenty minutes, then crept to the darkened porch. He selected the shiny new key and tried it in the lock. The lock turned easily. As silent as the grave, Dave crept in. There really was no need. For the third time that evening, Dave was treated to the sounds of Stewart screwing his loving wife. Presumably, because this time they had no need to impress, they were much quieter.

Shielding the torch beam with the fingers of one hand, Dave looked around. What he saw was a standard apartment. Large lounge, small kitchenette, laundry, and one bedroom. The door to the bedroom was closed. Lisa could never sleep with the door open. The camera was on the kitchen table, still in its carry case. With gloved hands, Dave removed the camera from its case, opened it and removed the sim card. That was the extent of his planning thus far. Threat removed, he stood there wondering what to do next. He really wanted to go in and damage them. It was amongst the hardest things he’d ever done to force himself back to the door.

As he crept toward it in the dim light, he spotted something he hadn’t previously seen. Something recognisable but out of place. It was an insulated box with, ‘Priority Medical Sample’ printed on the side. Dave picked it up and opened it. It was empty, aside from the cooler pack which was still cold to the touch. With mounting suspicion, Dave quietly walked back to the kitchen and opened the fridge. What he saw on the top shelf were the tools of his trade. All of a sudden, one of the things Lisa had said, that at the time confused him, made perfect sense. It was true, she was getting something from Stewart that she couldn’t get from her husband. Something she didn’t need but desperately thought she did. The sight brought an evil smile to Dave’s face. This was quickly followed by the makings of a plan. He picked up two of the four syringes in the small padded box and read the labels.

Letting himself out quietly, Dave drove to work and parked in the back corner of the car park. He spent the two hours waiting for the contracted security service round, spotting all the external cameras. After the lone security guard drove up, did a lap of the building, trying the doors before leaving, Dave made his move.

Letting himself into the building, he quickly went into the room that contained the central storage fridge and removed a preloaded syringe. After checking the label, he put it in a padded box, which he slipped into his pocket. Entering the lab next door, he picked up a mask and slipped it in another pocket. After that, he searched the dangerous goods cupboard and pocketed a small glass bottle. With his main objective complete, he removed the sim card from his pocket and inserted it in his own computer. He erased all the photo files, then refilled it with junk from the internet and erased it again.He repeated that seven times before pocketing the sim again.

Careful to check the coast was clear, he exited the building and drove back to Stewart’s house. Carefully entering the now silent apartment, he quietly replaced the sim card in the camera and moved to the fridge. He removed the padded bag and laid the contents out on the table. Putting on the mask, he removed the cap of one of the three identical syringes and squirted it straight down the drain in the sink. He re-filled the now empty injector with the contents of the one he’d brought. He then chose the unique syringe and emptied this into the padded box he’d brought with him. With extreme care, he re-filled it from the small glass bottle. Carefully putting everything back just how he’d found it, he beat a silent retreat and drove home, stopping only to dump the empty syringe and box in a dumpster.

Leaving all the lights off, Dave made himself a snack and interrogated his conscience. Had he contravened his Hippocratic Oath? Shit, no. He hadn’t hurt a flea. He spent an hour quietly running over all the possible scenarios in his head and searching for one solution to counter the bulk of them. At midnight he went to his marital bed and slept.

Anyone watching his behaviour the next morning would have been really confused. Firstly, he wrapped one of the discarded ends of the cut tethers around his right wrist, after securing the other end to the bedpost and pulled really hard until he could no longer stand the pain before examining the resultant bruising. Nodding his satisfaction, he re-secured the strap to one of the smaller uprights on the bedhead. It took all the strength of both his arms and his feet braced against the wall to finally snap the upright. Satisfied with his work, Dave finally relieved his bladder in the centre of the bed.

At 9.23a.m., Dave rang the police and sat back practicing his lines. The police that came around listened to his story in mounting disbelief. He was fairly convincing. After all, most of it was the truth. He explained how he had come home and caught his wife in bed with Stewart. How they had stunned and chemically knocked him out. How they had performed lewd sexual acts, both on him and beside him, before leaving him tied up all night. It was only in desperation that he’d summoned the strength that morning to resist the pain of breaking the bedpost by force. He showed them the bottle of ether, the stun gun, the bed, and the urine stain on the sheets, marvelling once again on the conspirator’s confidence in their plan, that they’d made no attempt to cover their tracks.

Forensics were called. The ether bottle and stun gun were bagged and the sheets tested for semen samples. Swabs were made. The senior man suggested Dave get his wrist checked out but relented when Dave explained he was a doctor. When questioned about their possible motive, Dave told of Lisa’s long requested fantasy of humiliating him. A request he had strenuously resisted.

The first indication that all was not well in Toy Town, was when Lisa’s mother rang Dave asking why she’d been asked to bail her daughter out. Dave gave the same story he’d given the police. The sincerity in his voice was so convincing, that her mother actually apologised for her daughter’s behaviour, saying his story was slightly different to Lisa’s, ‘It was all a misunderstanding.’

Three more phone calls, two from Lisa’s siblings and one from a friend demonstrated to Dave that news was spreading nicely. Lisa’s emotional support network was rapidly being dismantled and he now had justification to withdraw all support for her. That was the point, after all. He knew that with all the evidence being circumstantial and two testimonies against one, the police investigation was unlikely to go anywhere.

He kind of figured his wife had been bailed, when the phone rang.

“Your ass is toast, you dumb shit…”

He hung up. The phone rang hot all afternoon. Several friends, and some of Lisa’s family, took him up on his invitation to visit the crime scene to make their own judgement.

Lisa rang in a much more rational voice late that night. If he agreed to drop the charges and give her a no-fault divorce and 70% of their assets, she would graciously not release the photographs. Dave simply said, “No thanks,” and hung up on her again. He vaguely wondered how she was justifying the loss of the photos to herself. I mean, it wasn’t as if they hadn’t checked them after they took them.

Lisa kicked herself after putting the phone down. Cursing that she appeared to have accidentally pressed ‘delete all’ when she’d meant to delete individual ones. She fully expected Dave to cave in to her conciliatory gesture. Apart from bluffing, she couldn’t see any way forwards. Dave would never fall for the same trick twice, plus they’d lost the ether now. She’d been rattled by Dave’s response; after all, he didn’t know she didn’t hold all the cards still. Why the defiance? Christ, she wished she still had the photos. She would have enjoyed breaking him. Watching him collapse, until the only option was for him to slink off and hide in a deep dark hole.

Angry and in need of a shoulder to cry on, she rang her friend, Jane. No one picked up.

Just after she hung up that call, her cell rang with her dad’s ring tone. Lisa took a deep breath. “Let the spin commence,” she said to herself. Even without the photos she could create havoc.

“Hi, Pop.”

“Lisa. What is this crap Dave tells me about you drugging him, tying him up, making him watch you screw some guy, then leaving him tied to the bed all night? The poor guy had to piss in the bed, for fuck’s sake.”

Lisa’s fiery temper took over.

“I did not leave him tied up. I cut him loose before…shit!”

She managed to stop herself, then realised she had some damage control to do.

“Look, Pop, I didn’t want to tell anyone this. Dave wanted me to tie him up and humiliate him, okay. He said it was something he got off on. Half-way through he changed his mind and asked us to leave and we did. I cut him loose before leaving, honest. I have no idea why the police came around. Dave won’t talk to me; he keeps hanging up.”

“Well, I’ve just come back from his place and it certainly didn’t look like you cut him loose. It certainly looked like a broken bed that smelt like piss to me. I rang my mate Ralph at the station and he confirmed they’d found the drugs you’d knocked him out with and a fucking stun gun for Christ’s sake. Now you’re lying to me, Lisa. That’s just the crowning turd in the water pipe. Look, I ignored all the rumours that you were a complete slut in school. Now I know they were all true. Don’t ask your mother or I to help your slut arse out anymore. If I have my way, your mum won’t be speaking to you ever again.”

“Daddy, no…”

But he was gone.

Desperate to retain some of her support network, Lisa frantically rang the rest of her family, her friends, and Dave’s and her mutual friends. She wanted to get in first. The ones that did actually pick up, let her know their feelings, which in their entirety, weren’t good. All the damage had been done while she was ‘helping the police with their enquiries’. She appeared to have only one friend left in the world and he was sitting on his couch playing video games, seemingly totally oblivious of her suffering. Unbidden, the words of the old Julie Brown song came into her head, ‘I like ‘em big and stupid’.

As she walked to the bathroom, she couldn’t help thinking what changes had occurred in the last twenty-four hours. She’d swapped a five-star meal ticket with a man, that while being slightly dorky, worshipped the ground she walked on. For what? The moron from outer space. Shit, she’d be lucky to get 50%. In fact, unless she could beat this shit that Dave had laid on her, she might be lucky even to get that. One thing was certain, though. Dave was going to pay for this.

Once in the bathroom she made the mistake of looking in the mirror. Instead of the good-looking, vibrant, full-chested thirty-three-year old that everyone else saw, she saw more a reflection of her deep hidden self-opinion. A vision from almost twenty years previously. Flat-chested, plain-faced, thin-lipped unattractiveness.

On the way back to the lounge a sudden revelation struck her.

“Stew, honey. You’ve got some disreputable friends. Do you know any that could make my darling hubby disappear?”

Stewart abruptly took his eyes off the game.

“What?”

“Think about it, Stew. If Dave was to suddenly, well, die, we’d get everything, wouldn’t we? The houses, the bank accounts, and even his insurance. He’s worth two million on that.”

Stewart looked at Lisa in a new light.

“You want to get Dave whacked?”

“Yes, honey. Do you know anyone that could do that?”

“No. But I know someone that might. I’ll make a couple of phone calls.”

He stood up.

Lisa smiled. She knew that once more she was in control. She stepped into Stewart’s arms.

“Later, lover. It’s time to make me beautiful.”

“How about we fuck first?”

“No. Wait till afterwards. I’ll be beautiful then. Where do you want me?”

“Lie of the couch, with your head near that lamp.”

“You’re sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve seen them do it a thousand times.”

Stewart went to the fridge and retrieved the box of syringes that he thought he’d purloined, blissfully ignorant of the fact that changes had been made.

“What do you want first; face or lips?”

“Do the scary bits last, honey. Face first. How long do they last again?”

“Well, the lips will last forever, the face two to three months. Unless we can get Dave back in heel, or on ice, my job is toast and this will be the last time.”

“Shit. I hadn’t thought of that. Do your worst, lover boy.”

Stewart retrieved one of the syringes marked ‘Botox 1.0ng/kg’ and proceeded to inject Lisa’s brow with small amounts of bacterium Clostridium Botulinum, clinically proven to be harmless to humans, apart from minor, rare side effects. In tiny jabs, he emptied the syringe into Lisa’s left brow and upper cheek.

As Stewart went to the fridge to get the second syringe, Lisa felt her face.

“Hey, it’s all numb. Is that supposed to happen?”

“Yeah, that’s fine, babe.”

Stewart returned and continued injecting Lisa’s face and jaw with Botox 1.0ng/kg still in its original packaging.

It wasn’t until he began injecting the third syringe that things started going adrift, with Stewart being none the wiser. The contents of this third injector weren’t what was written on the label. They were, though, written on a now empty syringe in a dumpster far away. That label read Botox 10ng/kg. This stronger form of bacterium Clostridium Botulinum, had its cosmetic uses as well, but only in patients that had a strong immunity to lower doses of the bacteria already. Blithely, Stewart injected Lisa with a substance that has been described as the most acutely lethal toxin known to man. Well before this third syringe was empty, Lisa was infected with full blown Botulism.

At precisely this time, Dave was returning from dinner with his sister, Maggie. She had come over earlier that afternoon determined to stay with her brother for as long as it took to get him over this mess. Dave appreciated the company. The monster appreciated the alibi.

Pleased with his handwork, Stewart asked Lisa if she was ready for her new, fuller lips. Lisa was much more comfortable now. Despite being a big man, Stewart had proven to be surprisingly gentle. Besides, her face was almost completely numb now. She’d be amazed if she felt a thing. Nodding her approval, she reminded Stewart where she wanted the majority of the silicon filler put, emphasising the need to leave it symmetrical.

Stewart took a deep breath and pumped the first of 20ml of Formic acid into Lisa’s top lip. No, Formic acid is not another name for silicon. It is a weak but extremely persistent acid used in the removal of warts and moles. Even in that use, it is diluted well below the 95% strength in the syringe Stewart was holding.

He was a little confused when Lisa’s lip didn’t swell as he had seen them do so often at the clinic. Unperturbed, he reinserted the needle a finger width to the left and depressed the plunger. Again, there was no change in the shape of the lip. Stewart moved over again and repeated the same process. They do say, the mark of a truly stupid man, is one who repeats the same mistake over and over again and expects different results.

He’d discharged almost 5ml of the fluid before Lisa showed any discomfort. Her eyes snapped open.

“It’s starting to really sting, Stew.”

“Sorry, babe, must have hit a nerve.”

2ml and two jabs later, Lisa forcibly pushed Stewart away.

“Ow, Stewart. It REALLY STINGS!”

Stewart watched as Lisa’s eyes widened in pain and terror. She began thrashing her head from side to side in a vain attempt to get away from her own lips. The lips share with the fingertips and genitals the characteristic of having a greater concentration of nerves than any other part of the human body. Even the paralysing, numbing effect of the Botox couldn’t shield Lisa from the chemical assault that was to come.

Stewart watched bemused until the screaming started. He was completely confused by the thin wisps of acrid fumes coming from Lisa’s mouth area. Two things became apparent very quickly. Something had gone horribly wrong and soon lots of fingers would be pointing at him. Forcibly, he tore Lisa’s hands from her face. Right before his eyes he saw her top lip, from one corner of her mouth to just the other side of centre, blistering and bubbling. Lisa wrenched her hands from his and grabbed her face again.

Her renewed screaming triggered Stewart’s fight or flight reflex. He ran. Out the door, into his car, tyres screeching in his haste to get away.

“Hello, emergency operator. Which service do you require?”

“You’ve got to help. There’s a woman absolutely screaming next door. I just saw my neighbour take off in his car, but she’s still screaming.”

“Yes, I can hear it in the background. What is your address, madam? I’ll get the police and ambulance there straight away.”

The police entered Stewart’s flat with guns drawn seventeen minutes later. There was an eerie silence. Lisa’s mind, overwhelmed by pain, had shut her consciousness off in self-preservation. Seeing the recumbent figure on the floor, the police quickly checked all the rooms, before beckoning the ambos in.

The senior medical responder had seen some bad shit in her time, but even she was shocked. Two thirds of the victim’s top lip had gone, including some of the cheek. The nose looked bizarre, hanging over a gaping cavern with teeth exposed. The woman’s eyes were open, red and staring, both lower lids almost inverted. Years of training cut in and both officers checked pulse, breathing, secondary injuries and the like. Apart from the lip, both cheeks were gouged as if the victim had tried to claw her own face off. Two fingers on her right hand were bloodied. Lying next to deep scratches on the wooden floor were two broken fingernails.

“Pulse weak and thready, breathing slow and shallow, not much else wrong.”

This from the junior of the pair, who then bolted to the kitchen and threw up in the sink. He returned several minutes later, as the senior officer was putting Lisa on a stretcher assisted by one of the policemen.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I don’t think you’re going to like this job, John.”

Lisa came around just as they were closing the ambulance doors. The junior gave her a hit of Penthrane but that did little to quiet the screams. The driver yelled into the radio, trying to get an EMS doctor to authorise another dose. He quickly acquiesced. Even he could hear the pain in the background.

It was after 11:00p.m. when Dave got the call that his wife was in hospital. He wandered down there in no particular hurry, practicing his concerned look on the way. Once in emergency, he quickly made himself known as both Lisa’s husband and a doctor. He was given a mask and allowed into the ICU. He introduced himself to a dumbfounded looking treating doctor. Lisa was on a ventilator, lower face swaddled in bandages and her eyes were taped shut.

“What happened?”

“I have absolutely no idea. Her top lip seems to be eaten away by some sort of corrosive agent and she’s scratched her own face. We had to keep her sedated due to the pain. Then, twenty minutes ago she went into respiratory failure, that’s when we hooked her up to the ventilator. She’s running a high fever and has lost bladder control. We’ve taken some blood for testing, but, frankly, I’m flummoxed.”

“What’s with the tape on her eyes?”

“That’s another bloody weird thing. Her face was all out of shape and even when she was unconscious her eyes were wide open and the bottom lids were all droopy.”

“What, like this?” Dave grabbed one of his own bottom eyelids and pulled it toward his chin.

“Yes, exactly like that.”

Dave bent to within inches of Lisa’s face until he saw what he already knew was there. His nose picked up the distinct smell of burnt flesh.

“Needle marks.”

“What?”

“Her face is covered in needle marks. Get the lab to check for Botulism.”

“Why Botulism?”

“Because, I found out recently that she’s having an affair with one of the technicians from the cosmetic clinic I work at. I think the stupid prick stole some Botox and injected her face sometime in the last three hours. Somehow, he fucked it up. Buggered if I know what happened to the rest of her face though.”

“Botulism make sense.”

The hospital doctor ran to the phone and rang the lab. Dave made his escape. What was left of his conscience was clear. He had indirectly helped the police with their enquiries and maximised Lisa’s chance of survival. Once diagnosed, Botulism has only a fifteen percent fatality rate. Considering the damage to her face, Dave wondered if letting her die wouldn’t be kinder. The offended beast still wasn’t feeling generous, though. Oh no; Lisa was about to find out there were far worse things than dying.

That was the last time Dave visited Lisa in hospital. Her parents took her back in, after her release four weeks later and kept him appraised of her condition. Her face was still practically paralysed and would be for another two months or so. She couldn’t speak properly or chew. Her legs were too weak and wobbly for her to walk and she even had trouble controlling her arms. She had to communicate by typing things on a keyboard. That was all temporary, though. The damage to her mouth was more serious and would require multiple corrective surgeries. Dave paid her reasonable expenses, but made it known he wasn’t interested in any cosmetic costs.

He was interviewed by the police, of course, but with a cast-iron alibi, he was never a serious suspect. They already had their man.

Stewart was caught and confessed to what he’d done. He was charged with assault causing actual bodily harm. The source of the corrosive liquid that had eaten half of Lisa’s face remained a mystery. Stewart was fired for theft of company property. Dave smiled when the company instituted a rigorous new control system to account for all drugs on the premises. Slam that stable door!

Lisa had begged, through her mother, for Dave to come and see her. He flatly refused. A month after her release, her well-publicised plight ensured she was taken on pro bono by a divorce lawyer. Papers were served on Dave seeking seventy percent of their marital assets. Dave’s own legal adviser suggested that due to her needs and his earning capacity, sixty percent was a shoe-in. Dave had set his own arrangements in motion six weeks before that.

After the divorce was served, the requests from Lisa stopped. A month later, Dave rang Lisa’s mother and said he was coming over. He walked into her bedroom at her folk’s place. The room was darkened and Lisa had a veil across her lower face. She was trying to force a smile but even in the darkness, Dave could see the hostility in her eyes. Lisa figured she had him over a barrel and he had come to beg her to let him keep more of his wealth. She was going to enjoy this. After the settlement, she would have enough funds to get herself fixed and still be able to live fairly comfortably. Poor Dave. He still was a schmuck and a naïve cash cow.

Dave sat down on the edge of her bed.

“So, Lisa. How are you enjoying my option three?”

The smile immediately disappeared from what was visible of Lisa’s face. In that moment, with those words, she knew. All this time, she had blamed Stewart for some uneducated mix up. Now she knew. Her jaw dropped and her mind was a whirl. Dave continued.

“Just so you know, I’ve sold both houses and my car. I’ve donated most of the money I have to an overseas charity except a small trust for your parents to look after your day-to-day needs. I know maths was never your strong point, so I’ll tell you what that means. Seventy percent of fuck all is fuck all. I’m leaving the country tomorrow and joining Medicins san Frontieres. In case you don’t know, they’re a charitable medical group that help out in all the world’s trouble spots. I’ve volunteered for Syria. Hopefully, I can save a few lives before the great redeemer takes my pain away. It doesn’t pay a salary, I’m afraid. Good luck finding another sugar daddy looking like you do.”

With no particular pleasure, Dave watched Lisa lose it completely. A combination of crying and yelling through a throat that was no longer up to the job and lips that couldn’t form proper words. She kept it up until she collapsed exhausted. Dave spent the time looking around the room. He reached over and picked up a bottle of sleeping pills off the bedside table and read the label.

When Lisa finally stopped making all sound, Dave spoke his last words.

“Watch out for them pills, they’re very strong. Any more than about four of them and there’s no guarantee you’ll wake up in the morning.”

He paused on his way out the door and looked at the woman he had loved unconditionally for over nine years.

She didn’t return his gaze. She was too busy looking longingly at the bedside table.

Dave let himself out.

EPILOGUE

Seven months later, Stewart wasn’t enjoying his time in prison. His blond hair and good looks ensured he got a lot of attention of the wrong type. In perpetual fear, he spent most of the time outside his cell out in the exercise yard in a quiet corner.

Today, his and the guard’s attention was taken by a ruckus down the other end of the yard. Suddenly, a huge arm came from behind and put him in a headlock. Immobile, he saw another arm come into view holding a syringe. A sharp jab indicated when it punctured one of the veins in his neck. All he could think of was, ’Thank god, there’s nothing in the syringe,’

As the syringe, with plunger fully depressed, came back into view, a voice growled, “Dave said to say hi.”

Stewart had never heard of an air embolism. His last twenty minutes on earth were very unpleasant.

Dave always keeps his promises.

THE END

When someone cheats, everyone loses. Don’t do it.

Again, I had trouble writing the ‘gay’ scene in this. In fact, to be honest, I haven’t enjoyed something that much since I last got my cock caught in my zipper.

Now lighten the fuck up.

Paddy goes to the doctor, having problems with premature ejaculation.

The doctor tells him that when he feels himself cumming, to give himself a fright by firing a starter pistol in the air to prolong the sex.

Two days later, the doctor sees Paddy and asks how he went.

Not good. We were in the 69 position when I felt myself cumming, so I fired the gun.

Mary shit in my face, bit the end of my cock off, and the milkman came out of the closet with his hands up.