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He looks so peaceful lying there. If it wasn’t for that tube coming out of his mouth, and those wires strapped to his chest, I would think he was blissfully dreaming in that hospital bed. 

Oh God!! Why did he have to do this to me? Wasn’t I good enough for him? When he wakes up I am going to kill him!!! If he ever wakes up.

A few days ago I got that dreaded call, “Are you Mrs Laurie Anderson?” Of course no one ever wants to hear those words but you always expect to at any moment. “We are sorry to tell you, but there was an incident and your husband is in the hospital.”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” I blurted out at the officer. She was only trying to explain what had happened. Sargent Lopez wanted to complete her police report so she could get out of my life as quickly as she can. She did expect me to explode after learning what brought my husband to the hospital or who did. I guess that was what police were there for; To Protect and Serve. To serve us innocent wives and protect us from those bitches out there. And one of those bitches just happened to be sitting in the far corner of that empty hospital room starring at me with fear in her eyes.

“I know you are upset Mrs Anderson,” the snickering officer replied. Of course no officer would snicker out loud, they were well trained for that. “If it wasn’t for Mistress Monique over there your husband would have died in her bed. She was smart enough to recognize he was having a heart attack and quickly brought him to the hospital.”

“IN HER BED?!?!” I blurted out at the officer again. This time I swore that snicker had almost escaped her lips. Officer Lopez stood between the two of us. She was afraid I was going to do something stupid to that bitch. She was probably right. I wanted to drag that slut straight down to the hospital morgue. How could I not?! My husband who is in a coma had just been in that whore’s bed and I could not help myself.

It took me a few minutes to simmer down as the officer waited to complete her protect and serve mission. She was more concerned on protecting that woman or to serve me a restraining order if I did anything wrong. 

“Sign here, Mrs Anderson,” the officer finally ordered. Then she handed the paper to Monique so she could dot her signature next to mine. 

“THIS IS IT?” I blurted out one last time. “You are not going to arrest that WHORE?” I was more furious at the officer then I was at my new arch nemesis.

“Arrest her for what?” Lopez asked in surprise.


This time that snicker did escape. She couldn’t help herself. “I don’t think that is necessary, Mrs Anderson,” the Sargent replied with a smirk. “There was no foul play here.” She exonerated the slut then said, “as I told you, she did the right thing to bring your husband to the hospital herself. Others would have thrown him out on the street to fend for himself. You should be grateful.” With that final closing statement my so called protector left me alone with my husband’s savior. 

For more than an hour Monique and I sat quietly, alone, in that empty hospital room snarling like vultures about to bounce on one another. It was more me who wanted to bounce. She just shied in the corner of the room trying not to make too much eye contact. Oh God! I so wanted to tear out that long blond hair of hers, gouge her blue eyes out of her beautiful white face, and punch those puffed up red lips to smithereens… and Jealousy wasn’t even a part of it. 

“How long was he…?” I bounced my first question but I could not complete the sentence. My voice just gave way to a bottled up squeak.

“Two years,” she replied. Oh Hell! And I thought I was asking her how long was he in her bed that day. This was the first time I heard the bitch speak. Oh God! She did have a lovely voice which I am going to strangle when this is over.

TWO FUCKING YEARS!? That was pathetic. I was pathetic. He had been fucking that whore for two years and I did not even notice ??!! Why would I?! It is not like he wasn’t in bed every single night ever since we said our first “I do.” So How could he?! I’ve never denied him nor have I said ‘No’ to anything he asked for. So Why did he?

Sex of course. Sex you idiot. Sex was all men thought about. Unfortunately for me that had become an occurrence for the past few years. After twenty two years of marriage I thought that was the norm. We used to fuck quite often. He gradually stopped asking. Eventually I stopped offering. However we had to uphold the ritual. Once a month was enough to scrap by. All this time I have had the impression his libidinous had reached its limits. I was just proven wrong.

“Dominatrix Monique is it?” I was curious whom my treasonous husband was shacking. I wasn’t naïve. I knew what she was. If I commit murder I might as well know who my victim was. I also wasn’t stupid. I knew what she was wearing. Monique could barely hide that red leather corset that flickered every time she tried to close her coat. The red high leather boots were another give away. I had a similar outfit once. I remember he brought it as a valentine gift years ago to try our hands on some bondage play. Unfortunately that did not go well. I fizzled. Maybe I just couldn’t get myself to pinch those nipples hard enough. Weak stomach. I sucked at being a Dom. So the night ended with the usual vanilla, but the outfit did look great. I had it tucked in a box somewhere in my closet along with that beginners bondage kit. Most probably it doesn’t fit anymore. I used to be an eight. Now I was lucky if I could slip in less than a teen. I don’t know why I still keep those. Maybe for nostalgic reasons… I don’t know.

“My name is Jessica,” suddenly Monique hissed again. “Monique is my work name.”

I didn’t know why Monique or Jessica or whatever her name was was offering to tell me this. I didn’t give a shit. Anyway, I was the one who asked her for her name. So I guess I did.

“How much did you charge?” Now why would I even want to know that? But I did ask. I guess I wanted to see how my life’s savings were being spent.

“$400 for two hours every month.”

“HOLY SHIT!!! $400 every month for the past TWO YEARS?” I almost jumped as I yelled at her. My blood started to boil once again but I tried to keep calm. I had to be rational about this. It wasn’t Monique’s fault that my fucking husband was paying a hooker. Maybe Sargent Lopez was right. She did bring him to the hospital after all. She was even staying to see this through. But why is she staying to see this through?

“Why the hell are you still here?” I had to ask. “Don’t you have a hole to crawl back to?” I could not help but bounce one more time. 

Suddenly Jessica’s eyes fogged. Tears started to trickle down her cheeks. Mine followed suit. I wasn’t sure why I was the one crying? I was certain it wasn’t for her. Maybe it was for that treacherous husband of mine who was fighting for his life in that other room? Naaa…. Or maybe I was crying about my own life which just went down the drain. I tried to wipe all that salt away, but it kept on falling. What was going to happen to me? to us? to our marriage? I didn’t want to think about it now but those tears kept reminding me. I didn’t even know why I was even staying in the hospital waiting for him to wake up. Twenty years were a long time to simply throw away.

“I just want to make sure he is okay,” Monique surprised me one more time.

GREAT ! Now the whore was concerned for my husband. I didn’t see that coming. I only managed a whimpering, “WHY?!”

“Because he was a friend.”

NICE! “A whore with a friendly heart!” I sighed out loud. Leave it for my kind hearted husband to befriend a prostitute. Why was I not surprised. That was one reason I did marry that guy. He was kind, generous, humble, honest, and as it turned out he was also a good fucking liar.

“We used to spend hours in bed talking after his session ended,” Monique insisted on  explaining. “I don’t have many friends in this town. He was one of the few.” Oh God I wish she would just shut up. “I have a daughter you know,” she continued. “She is stying with my mom down in Kansas. I told him about her. It is nice to have a family.”

Great! Another point for the liar. He definitely was a good listener. I have more than twenty years of solid proof of that. He listened, I talked. We had a good family as well.

“You must have talked him to death.” I had to bounce again, the bereaved wife’s prerogative.

“I knew I shouldn’t have used that electric wand,” Now Monique was trying to find an excuse. “How could I have known he had a bad heart. He didn’t tell me that!”

“HE didn’t have a BAD HEART,” now I was apologizing to the hooker for my husband’s inconsiderate heart attack. I didn’t know he had a bad heart either. What else did I not know about my husband? “And what the hell is an ELECTRIC WAND?” I almost lit up.

Then she started to explain. I knew I shouldn’t have started this conversation. She just couldn’t stop…

“He wanted to try something new. He always wanted me to try something new. He was okay with the candle wax, he loved the nipple clamps, heck I was running out of ideas. So I thought he would be fine with the electric zapper.”

“So you electrocuted him until his heart stopped?” Now I was the one in shock. 

“Oh nooo…no.. no… At the beginning he was okay with it,” she corrected. “He squealed real good on that cross. I could see he was enjoying it. We used to start our session with him kneeling on the floor kissing my boots. Then we progressed to the bed so I could use the floggers and the canes. On occasions I used the wax candles. Oh he loved those. He always wanted his eyes closed so he would not know when or where those hot wax drops landed.”

Oh God! I had to endure all this torture as she explained in detailed what she did to my husband. I knew I should have stopped her but I didn’t. I guess I was intrigued.

“When he have had enough I would string him up on the cross. He loved that as well. I guess he loved the cock torture more than anything I whipped him up with. Many men do. Clamps where his favorite, you know on the nipples, on the balls.. really everywhere clamps can be safely secured. Finally I brought out the electric wand. I just bought it new. They said it gave quit a shock. Two years I knew the level of pain he can endure. When the moans turned to a scream that is when I stop. Unfortunately that didn’t happen. However I could tell he was enjoying this because his cock kept dripping. When it was hard enough and about to explode, I zapped the head and he fainted on me. He fucking fainted on me! Through out my ten years of work I have never had a man faint on me before. Well maybe from pleasure but then again I can handle that. Oh God!! I messed up this time. This was more than he could handle. I was petrified.” 

“That must have been a shocker,” I said, well more to me than it was to her. They had been doing all that for the past two years and I didn’t even spot a whiplash nor a scar anywhere on his body. Wow…. She sure was good. Not only was she good I swore I could feel my own juices dripping as I was hearing all that. Still I’m going to kill them both when he finally wakes up.

Suddenly the nurse came barging into the waiting room. “He is waking up out of the coma,” she said. So we scrambled into the next room to be next to him when he did.

“Welcome back honey,” I said from one side of the bed.

“Hi Sam,” Monique added from the other side.

Sam tried to open his eyes to look at us. He managed to look both ways then suddenly the heart monitor started beeping and the green screen filled with zigzag lines in every direction.

“Nurse NURSE,” Monique yelled out. “Come QUICKLY!”

“OH GOD! My husband is having another heart attack!” I concurred.


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