tagNonConsent/ReluctanceAmnesia Ch. 01

Amnesia Ch. 01

bySylviaG©

Thank you for your Emails, stories, and kind offers. Happy Christmas.

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I followed him slowly into the house. My arms were folded underneath my breasts. I was sort of hugging myself in a defensive manner. I followed him into the lounge as I heard the taxi drive off. He turned and gave me a strange little smile. I didn't smile back I just watched his features. I hugged myself a little tighter and looked around the room. A single tear rolled down my face. Everything in the room was alien to me. Even the man I stood with. He had said he was my husband. I had seen the marriage certificate, so I have to believe him. I mean, I have amnesia, so I have to trust my husband, don't I?

I followed him up the stairs and into the bedroom. He opened the wardrobe and I gazed at the clothing.

"I'll make you a cup of tea," he said with a smile.

I felt his hand on my shoulder and I flinched, grabbing my ribcage even tighter, and then I twisted away. I spent several minutes looking at the clothing. Tight tops, short skirts, and skimpy dresses hung on the rail. I couldn't remember wearing any of these things; then again I couldn't remember anything, apart from the last couple of weeks in hospital.

"Christine, your tea is ready," he called.

I didn't answer him, my own husband and I didn't know him.

I watched him from the doorway as he put the tea down on the coffee table. I still had my arms folded rubbing my thumb over my ribs.

"Those clothes are a little..."

"That was how you dressed they are all your clothes. You loved showing your body off."

He looked away almost embarrassed by his words, or was it the way I closed my eyes at what he said.

"How come I've got clothes if our house was burnt to the ground?"

"We were going on holiday. The clothes were in our car that is all we have."

"And this house, do, do we rent it or?"

"It belongs to the company; we can stay here as long as we need to, until the insurance pay out."

I picked up the cup of tea. I blew it a little and then looked at him as he offered me a cigarette. I just stared at the orange filter.

"Do I smoke?" I asked faintly.

He nodded and smiled.

I sat at the table pushing my food around the plate. Harry my husband was shovelling his food in his mouth like he hadn't eaten for a week. I just watched this man, my husband. He obviously loved his food.

"Do you have to eat like that?"

He stopped halfway through chewing.

When we went to bed I made him turn the light out before I undressed. I slipped into bed with my back to him.

"Did you take the pills?"

I felt his hand on my shoulder, it scared me. I was frightened of the man I had married.

"Yes. Please don't touch me," I mumbled.

I waited, finally he removed his hand and turned over and went to sleep.

"You snore," I mumbled at the breakfast table.

He chuckled.

"When is my mother coming?"

"Next week. Look don't expect too much from her. You haven't spoken to each other for a couple of years."

The next week carried on much the same. The doctor came to visit and top up my pills, blue pills, orange pills, and those awful tasting pink ones. I had spent all week in my dressing gown. Several times I went to get dressed, but I just didn't see the point. We lived out in the country, 2 miles from the nearest village, what was the point in getting dressed if I had to stay at home all day?

I woke in the night and rolled over. My husband wasn't there, not that I was worried about that. Still I was curious, where was he at 3 am? I pulled my dressing gown around my body. Christ my tits were big!

I stopped at the full length mirror. So there I was a married woman. 5'8" tall, green eyes, blonde hair, a dress size 10 with D-cup breasts! I could see that for myself. But that was all I knew to be true. OK I was 28, but I had to see my birth certificate, or rather a copy of it. Then again was I really Christine Hills, or rather Trent, my husband's name.

I heard him grunt and I went silently out onto the landing. I saw the bathroom door open slightly about 3 inches. His shorts lay crumpled round his ankles. I could see his hand jerking quickly. I covered my mouth at first disgusted, but then I smiled a little. The poor bastard had wife, a blonde wife, with big tits sleeping next to him, and there he was pulling himself off in the bathroom like a bloody teenager.

When he came back into the bedroom he was a little shocked to see me sitting up.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" I said, trying not to smirk at his embarrassment.

Then I saw the crumpled panties in his hand, my crumpled panties the green panties I had worn that day!

"Go and sleep on the couch you fucking pervert!" I screeched.

He did.

"Have you taken that new pill yet?"

"Yeah," I answered, "although I don't know why the doctor has given me them."

"They will help, you must take them."

There he was thinking of me again, and after what happened last night.

"I'm sorry about last night," I mumbled, "I know I'm the one with amnesia but this must be just as hard for you. I mean having a wife that cringes every time you go near her."

I felt sorry for him, for the first time. He had told me everything I had asked, and believe me I asked thousands of questions. He just gave me the answers as I tried to piece things together. But I couldn't remember a thing. My thoughts made my eyes water. I looked at him again. I wanted to throw him a bone, something to give him a little hope. He had been so patient with me, and all I could do was mock him for playing with himself!

"Look, Harry, I don't mind helping you out, but I don't want to, well have sex with you, not yet anyway."

The doctor had told me that resuming a sex life with my husband was going to be difficult. He had suggested just talking, and then maybe touching, until I was ready. The only thing was I didn't fancy Harry! I certainly wouldn't have given him a second look if we passed in the street. I had to find out what attracted me to him in the first place, but how the hell could I if my mind was a complete blank!

I put my hand on his shoulder.

"You love me so much don't you? All I can do is bitch about not being able to remember."

I took a big gulp. I had this thought in my head. I wanted to please him, just to make him happy. I had to fight my reluctance, this was my husband and he made me cringe!

"You said I wanted a boob job, you said I kept on about it and you gave in, when was that?"

"Nearly a week before the fire," he mumbled, "you like men looking at you Christine, you, well you always used to."

"I guessed something like that from the clothes in my wardrobe. I know they are mine but maybe that bump on the head has changed me. I mean don't you mind that I probably look like a complete tart?"

I saw a slightly lustful look in his eyes, a look that he tried to hide. I glanced down at his shorts. He was hard just because of what I said. God, did I really have this sort of power over my own husband?

I gulped again, "why don't you get, get it out. Play with it."

I watched his fumbling fingers pull his shorts down a little. He looked and acted eager, I suppose the poor guy had been so frustrated over the last few weeks. His eyes were full of lust and he was panting.

"Would you like to see what you paid for? Do you want to see your wife's big tits?"

I opened my dressing gown as he sat there unable to speak. I let it slip off my shoulders, and then I slipped the thin red straps of my nightdress down my arms. He just stood gazing at me, like it was the first time he had seen my body.

"Oh fucking hell!" he gasped.

I watched as his hand pulled on his cock. I didn't want this going any further but I just had this strange feeling. I moved forward. My mouth hung open, and I panted slightly.

"Look how big they are, and they don't sag," I breathed.

I started massaging my left breast. My fingers rubbed over my nipples. They were really hard like bullets. I noticed in hospital how they always seemed to be erect, even though I wasn't turned on! I felt it catch on my fingers and then it sprang free. I just seemed to ache right behind each nipple. God they felt so sensitive.

Harry's eyes just remained glued to them. He was like a kid in a sweet shop!

I brought both hands up slowly, cupping the underside of each breast. I pushed them up and together, until I had a cleavage so tight you couldn't pour water through it.

"Go on spurt, look at them, look how fucking enormous they are!" I hissed.

He panted and gasped, and I found myself liking the way he looked a little unsure.

"Go on shoot, look at my huge tits and shoot!" I snarled.

His face was bright red and sweat trickled down his cheek. I saw a white glob appear; it caught in his fingers at the tip of his cock. I pulled my nightdress back up and hurried out of the room. For some reason I was regretting my actions, things just didn't make sense. Why was I so mixed up? Why does my husband make me cringe, and why did I just tease him if I felt this way? Why couldn't I remember any fucking thing!

I sat on the bed in my dressing gown for ages, just trying to remember my life before the fire. I couldn't even remember the fire, nothing, apart from waking up in hospital with Harry looking down on me. I screamed as he kissed my brow, I remember that.

He could have been a cleaner for all I knew! I pushed him away as the doctor came in. The doctor called 'Christine' 3 times, until I realised he was talking to me! As the days past in hospital Harry would sit and tell me about the fire, in between tests and being probed and prodded like something from outer space! He brought in a copy of my birth certificate, and then our marriage certificate, I still didn't remember.

I felt wet lips on my neck. I winced and pulled away.

"Don't, please don't touch me," I moaned, as I shuffled along the bed.

He looked a little disappointed. I suppose after what I had done ½ an hour ago he was confused too!

I went for a bath wondering what the hell would happen to me. Amnesia, such a pretty sounding word, it could almost be the name you would give a sweet little girl. But it was a word I was fighting with everyday; just what it meant filled me with dread.

So there I was the day my mother came to see me. I stood looking at myself in the mirror. I wore a black skirt that just made it to mid thigh. I had a red top on that just managed to contain my boobs, and several inches of deep cleavage. God! Black diamond patterned tights. I felt uncomfortable dressed like a bloody tart, but all my clothes were the same. It was like I was going to a fancy dress party as some whore!

But the shoes in the bottom of the wardrobe made me wince. 7 pairs of shoes with heels no lower than 4 inches! I needed new clothes, god I needed a skirt that I wasn't constantly worried in case my ass was on show! And how the fuck could I walk down the street with two huge melons bouncing around!

"She's here," he said with a gulp, as his eyes rolled over my body.

I pushed past him, almost knocking him out of the way, and I raced down the stairs. There she was standing in the lounge, my mum, I think?

We just stared at each other. I had images of a warm smiling face. Maybe she would rush to me and give me a big hug that would ease my mind. I didn't expect her to have badly dyed hair, and a fag sticking out of her gob, and covered in a fake leopard print coat.

"Well lost your memory I hear, still look at it as a god send in your case," she said with a smirk.

My heart had fallen into my stomach. I just watched the cigarette end wobble in her mouth with every word. How the inch of ash didn't fall off amazed me. I watched her suck on it. Bright red garish lipstick coated the filter. She sucked on the fag and let the smoke roll out of her nostrils.

"So, what do you want to hear, what a wonderful daughter you were?"

Again the fag end moved almost glued to her lips. I watched the ash drop to the carpet, taking my hopes with it.

"What do you mean? I, I don't know what you mean."

"Christine you and I, well, we never saw eye to eye. You blamed me when dad walked out, your dad."

My eyes shot to Harry.

"You said he died two years ago."

"He did," my mother said, and then coughed, "look you have a chance with Harry, don't make a mistake, trust him. He is your husband."

I felt Harry's hand push into mine and I squeezed it tight.

She stayed for tea and we talked. Whatever we had fallen out over, my father I think mainly. She didn't push it. She had softened slightly telling me of my childhood. My new bike, ballet classes when I was young, everything you would expect to hear.

I suppose at least we were now talking to each other. When she left I saw Harry give her what looked like a roll of money, but why?

A few days later I started to settle down. But I had still countless questions that I needed answers to. Harry's face dropped a little when I asked him when I could see my friends.

A visit from the doctor a few days later helped. The doctor told me to keep on with the pills, they seemed to relax me. Again I had asked to see my friends, and the doctor said that Harry should let me. For some reason Harry didn't seem keen, but I had plans to persuade him. Perhaps after my mother he was a little scared that I was going too fast. I found myself sort of teasing Harry a little. I left my bra on his side of the bed when I had a bath. I smiled when I saw it had been moved a little.

I suppose I was now getting used to having a husband. He had been so very understanding and tolerant, he needed a treat.

I stood in my bath towel as he sat reading in bed. I just let it slip from my body. He looked up a little shocked at first, but that lustful look soon entered his eyes.

"Did you touch my bra Harry?" I asked softly.

His eyes quickly moved from gazing at my pussy. I slipped into bed and made sure the defensive wall pillows between us were there. I turned on my side facing him.

"Did you take your pills?" he asked.

"Did you touch my bra?" I asked again, ignoring his question.

He gave me the faintest nod. I brushed my hand across his cheek and he kissed my palm. I pulled the pillows out from between us. I had told him I didn't want him touching me, not yet anyway. His eyes dropped to my breasts. Again, he seemed a little scared of me for some reason. I suppose he just didn't know if I would snap like I did in hospital. I remembered that day, I was taking a shower and he just walked in the room. Perfectly natural for a husband to do, but I had screeched at him and covered my body, even though he couldn't see me through the shower curtain.

"Why do my nipples always seem to be erect?"

I watched him gulp and his eyes dropped to them. I was sure he was fighting some urge to grab himself.

"They always did stick out. They always looked sexy."

I watched his hand slowly move towards them. He glanced quickly at me, maybe waiting for me to jerk away. I didn't, I closed my eyes as his fingers grazed the tip of my right nipple. I could feel movement further down the bed, short, and slow.

"I don't want you shooting spunk in the sheets."

He looked at me not sure what to do. He looked so strange, he looked so intense.

I held up my bra and trailed it slowly over his face. I just watched him jump slightly as he tugged on my nipple a little harder. I grinned at him, it wasn't a reassuring grin it was more of an amused grin, at his reaction.

"Use it, do it in my bra cup," I whispered.

He grabbed it with the trembling hand that had pulled on my nipple. I just watched his face as he panted.

"Does it turn you on, having my lacy bra on your dick?" I asked with a slightly amused grin.

He grunted and shot his load seconds later.

I turned over as he got out of bed.

"Don't put it in the washing basket, put it in the bin."

He moved away from the washing basket and went down the stairs.

It took me awhile to get to sleep like it always did. Harry seemed content snoring away. I suppose I was a little frustrated like my husband, because for the last few nights I had thoughts and dreams of a sexual nature.

Sometime in the night when I opened my eyes my left nipple felt wet, and I could still feel my finger between my legs. I flexed my pussy on the finger. I went to a sleep for a few moments, and then I think I forced myself awake. I looked down at Harry who just turned over in his sleep. I was shaking like a leaf. I could see moisture on his finger, moisture from my pussy! I looked at the sheets where I had been just seconds ago. There was a wet patch that had come from between my legs. I wrapped my arms around my body again hugging myself. I went to the bathroom and just stared the woman looking back from the mirror. I didn't know myself, I had to find out more, and I had to find a way of getting my memory back. I closed my eyes and shuddered. I also had to stop my juices trickling down my thighs.

I watched Harry at breakfast. He showed no sign of guilt for touching me up while I was asleep. Maybe he didn't know, maybe he did it in his sleep. I decided not to mention it. After all, today he was taking me to our old house, or rather the burnt out remains. Then we were going to see one of my friends. Away he couldn't stop me from seeing them, even though I knew he wanted to. I would have gone behind his back anyway, but I didn't have a clue where they lived.

I stared out of the car window in total shock. Not because of the burnt out shell, because the house had been a bloody big one! I expected a semi detached at best, but what I could see was the remains of a very big house.

"How much was it worth?"

"£650,000, maybe 750,000."

I looked down at my trembling fingers. I so desperately wanted an answer to a question I couldn't ask my husband. I needed to meet my friend, a very close friend. I needed to speak to her on her own.

There she was as arranged, on the pavement in a deserted part of town. Again I didn't recognise her. She stood with her hands forced into her coat pockets, and her lips pushed down in her coat collar fighting the cold icy wind. Harry stood by the car as I walked over the road.

"My god you've got a nerve, I can't believe I've agreed to this. Jessica will go ape shit if she even thought I was meeting you."

"Who is Jessica?"

"My god you really have lost your memory. Jessica was your best friend, until you ran off with her husband 18 months ago."

I shook my head feeling my stomach jump.

"But I've been married to Harry..."

"That never stopped you coming on to all our husbands did it you slut!"

I grabbed her arm as she went to turn away. I knew I was going to get nowhere with her, but I had to ask the question I had thought of in the car.

"Do I love Harry?"

She laughed throwing her head back, "you love his wallet!"

She shrugged her arm out of my hand.

"Look, don't come back here. You deserve the mess you are in. Jessica is divorced now, but Ben and I managed to patch things up. Oh I made him grovel for going behind my back with the town whore! Maybe the next time I see you it will be as we lower your box into the ground."

"Please, I'm sorry. I don't remember anything."

"You always did walk through shit and smell of roses. God you've even had a bloody tit job. Don't come back here, for your own good."

I stood there as she hurried away. I waited until she turned the corner then I let the tears flow.

I clung to Harry as he took me back to the car.

"Maybe you should have left me in hospital," I sobbed.

"No honey, I'll never let you go now. You are my wife and you are going to start acting like it. I've put up with shit from you all our married life, now you are going to buckle down and make me happy. I'm never letting you go, you belong to me now."

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bySylviaG© 3 comments/ 49022 views/ 7 favorites

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