Catharsis

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." From the play The Mourning Bride by William Congreve (1697)

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, ma'am. Just as you ordered."

She was ushered into the windowless room, noting the 4 cameras were in place. The lights shown only on the large metal table. Standing at one end, she nodded, and the white sheet was removed.

He lay with outstretched arms and legs spread. The eyes were open and fingers were spread apart. The hairless model had life-like skin but no clothing. There was a pronounced erection with a 6 inch wick sticking out the tip.

Smiling slightly she said, "You did a magnificent job. He looks almost alive. He has a complete skeleton, right?"

The two attendants looked pleased as they gazed between the small woman and their creation.

"Yes, ma'am. The skeleton is complete. As you can see, the penis is to your specifications."

"Splendid! Where is it?"

One of the attendants opened a black case and handed a baseball bat to her. She held the autographed Louisville Slugger admiring the signatures from the 1955 Yankees. She walked to the end of the table looking down at his head. The bat was moved up and down across her palm.

"This was his prized possession. He paid a small fortune for it 30 years ago. We were almost homeless. He loved it enough to give up drinking for a couple of months so we could stay in the trailer. We cut back on heating to save money in the dead of winter."

With surprising speed the Slugger hit his forehead followed by the sickening sound of a cracking skull. Each word was punctuated with another blow to his head and shoulders.

"We! Nearly! Froze! To! Death! Over! This! Damned! Bat!"

She was breathing heavily. His skull and upper face were smashed in. The right shoulder was grotesque. She walked to the side staring at the penis. She looked up at the men.

"How many consecutive days have you had sex?"

After looking at each other for a moment, one of the attendants said "Four days. It was our honeymoon." The other nodded in agreement.

"Would you believe 38 years? That is over 14,000 days in case you were wondering."

She smirked at their confused looks.

"I am serious." She repeated the gesture of gently tapping the bat onto her palm.

"But.....how could that be? I mean your periods or not feeling well. Wouldn't that stop sex from happening?"

"Not for HIM!" The erection swayed obscenely after the bat swung across.

"I tried to tell him about cramps but he ignored me. I begged. He just grinned and said that was MY problem. If it was my period, he rubbed my clit. He did wet his fingers, though. Even when I was pregnant, he was in the classic missionary position every god damned night. When I got too big for HIM to be comfortable, he screwed me sitting on his knees and pumping away. I've always felt the stress of never ending sex led to my son being stillborn."

After a long silence she added, "And the really funny thing about George? For all that sex, my only orgasms were from him rubbing my clit. His dick was larger than average but never controlled. So, I would have the joy of being aroused to some degree then feel his premature spurt. How I became pregnant is still a mystery to me."

She took a couple of more swings at the penis causing it to wave like an erotic metronome.

"I turned to our church for counseling. The minister was sympathetic but reminded me it was my wifely duty to be available for HIS needs. MY needs were secondary. Therefore, I should show joy and express thanks even when I felt like shit. He offered comfort by saying that I would be in his prayers."

The bat swung down on his pelvis and legs. Blow after blow seemed to break or crack a bone. The beating went to his ribs and fingers as she continued her story while circling this object of her anger.

"Oral sex was never a possibility. He thought it was 'nasty'. Vacations were the same ordeal in a different location. He was very popular with a lot of men at the church and their wives. His talent was flirting but never crossed the line to a full blown affair. I prayed for an affair to get some rest but no such luck. Imagine that? A wife praying her husband has an affair."

By the time she finished, the attendants turned their heads from the gruesome sight. The fingers, hands, arms, torso, legs, and feet were pulverized. The penis stood erect. Final blows were directed to the head.

She panted heavily wiping sweat from her face on the black sweatshirt sleeve. Then she cried. Followed by long continuous laughter.

"I can't believe how relieved I am! All the pent up rage and anger seems gone. GOD what a wonderful feeling!"

The autographed 1955 Louisville Slugger was slammed repeatedly against the table edge until it broke into multiple pieces and splinters. The woman bent down and picked up as much as possible. She placed them on the caved in torso.

Looking at the horrified attendants she grinned broadly and said, "I had it appraised after he died. Turns out his prize bat that would make us a fortune when he retired was a fake. My idiot husband was guarding and worshiping a FAKE!"

She walked toward the erection and pulled the lighter from her jeans pocket. The wick was lit. The fire went into the penis. All three stepped back and shielded their eyes. A bright light melted the appendage until it was a small shriveled blob. The woman walked to the door then looked back.

"Just mail me the DVD with all 4 camera angles on one screen when you are done. You did a fine job. Thank you."

"Ma'am? What do you want done with this?" they asked pointing to dummy.

"Just throw it in a dumpster please."

She closed the door, inhaling a deep breath of warm spring air convinced this would always be the happiest day of her life.