I Created a Monster

Just a quick flash tale that I actually finished. I have a disease. I get these great story ideas, write about half of the story in a fury and then can't seem to finish them. I am working on them and hope to release them sometime soon, bear with me. ;)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short vignette as much as I did while I was composing it. Remember, in the end it's just fiction. No wives were actually harmed in the making of this story. My wife punched me though, she went to Texas A&M, poor woman.

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My marriage is on life support and I am wondering if it's time to remove the feeding tube. I have a spouse that plans on cheating on me at some point, has even threatened me with it, and I have spent the last year on tenterhooks wondering when the deed will happen.

Of course, everyone says, "Just file for divorce, it's mental cruelty!" or "You are being a wimp and a crybaby, just leave!" But I love my partner. I've went through hell to be with him and I don't want to be a failed statistic at the youngish age of thirty five. I also still want to have more children with this person, so you see my dilemma.

We first met in college. We both attended Texas A&M University, Gig 'Em Aggies, in the early 2000's. We were both studying to be Veterinarians, a program that A&M is renowned for. I do pets, my spouse did livestock.

He decided after a couple of years that his true calling was long-haul trucking and quit being a vet. He delivers pork chops on an express route to San Francisco. The man is a machine, he makes the run in under 24 hours every time. He once told me, "Honey, I never drive faster than I can see. Besides that, it's all in the reflexes."

Even after his career change, which I fought against and lost, We certainly aren't hurting for money. Anyway, as I said, we met at A&M in Bryan, Texas (aka College Station). I had been rather sexually active, but I had cooled it for the last few months while I looked towards my future.

I had scouted out a couple of likely candidates, both around 5'10' with swimmer's bodies and, what I could tell through their jeans, reasonably well equipped; especially in the ass. I'm an ass person, there is just something about a nice muscular ass to grab onto while a cock is thrusting into you. But, I digress, I ended up picking Jack and set about the conquest.

Like I said, I was not a virgin, but it's easy to fool people about virginity. You just act clumsy and for girls you lie and claim it hurts because the penis tore your hymen. Nobody checks for blood anymore, this isn't the middle ages. Besides, pro-tip for girls, smear some red lipstick on a tissue and then wipe up the fluids after sex. Instant hymen blood, or start of your period blood. Trust me, guys are so phobic about blood near a pussy they aren't going to investigate deeply into the subject.

As far as the hymen goes, it's a bunch of bullshit anyway. I'm a vet, but I'm still a doctor. The hymen is just a crescent shaped piece of skin at the bottom portion of the vaginal opening in about 80 percent of females. There are some unfortunate souls that have hymens that are abnormal and actually partially or fully block the vaginal opening, but it's rare and those usually break due to active lifestyles or because of medical intervention to allow menstruation to function.

If a woman has a normal hymen, it's entirely possible for it to stretch with use and not tear. It gets torn when you have a 'plus-size' partner, the female is not lubricated properly, or the sex is particularly vigorous. So all of those stories you hear about guys getting partially into a vagina and then feeling the hymen blockage are basically urban legend. Or they just simply didn't prepare their partner enough and they actually put a micro tear in the lining near the tightened muscle.

Jack certainly didn't pick up on it, so my ruse was successful to a point. The failure was in the fact that while the pill was being used, it was accidentally contravened by antibiotics due to a sinus infection. So just after I got my diploma, my water broke and we had to go to the delivery room.

Yeah, if you didn't pick up on it, I'm Mrs. Burton now; or at least I still am for the moment, depending on where we go from here. My name is Gracie. Our daughter's name is Margaret, although she prefers Margo. She is most definitely her daddy's girl, we don't get along well. I think it is because we both are schemers.

All throughout our marriage, I have been occasionally unfaithful. I simply can't help it, I have a sex addiction and Jack is not up to my level in the bedroom. I didn't marry him for that anyway. I married him because he was easy to control and because he was going to be a good earner.

Maybe that sounds cold to you, but then you probably live in a trailer and drive a Ford. I drive a Mercedes S series and live in a fucking mansion. If you chose to settle or didn't prepare for the future, don't judge me.

Jack has never cheated on me; he used to be like an adorable puppy that followed me around. I taught him everything in the bedroom, thankfully he bought my claim that I learned it all from the internet. I say that he isn't up to my level in bed, but he is damn close now thanks to my training.

Of course, since that fateful day a year ago, he has also been willing to throw some plain old hardcore fucking my way, which might be why I am so sad at our possible dissolution.

You see, everyone gets caught at some point. In my case, while I was out getting fucked by a hung Dominican national on a student visa, my daughter was fucking me behind my back.

The little bitch skipped school and filmed my fuck session in high definition on the camera phone I bought her! God, I should have had her fucking aborted, but she did lock Jack to me while we were younger and in doubt. Decisions, decisions, hindsight is never helpful when you need it.

When I got home that day, I saw her smirk at me and run upstairs. It was then that I walked into the living room...and straight into a nightmare.

On the TV was my most recent sex-capade. Jack was seated in front of it with tears streaming from his eyes and keening sound emanating from his chest. As I proceeded to make love to the huge dark cock with my mouth, my pussy, and my ass on the screen, my husband self destructed slowly in front of me.

I was frozen; my mind told me to run over and snatch out the power cord to the power supply for the entertainment center, but my body was in shock. Both of us watched as Eddie, the student, came repeatedly and the camera zoomed in to show the white cum, mixed with my juices or lube, leak out of my holes.

In a perfect world, even at this stage my husband would have been erect or jacking off to the porn like scene in front of him. Then we could have just had an understanding. But that was not to be, as he finally leapt up and threw the remote into our very expensive UHD flat-screen. His head swiveled like a turret to face me, his eyes met mine and all I could see was blind rage or hatred. I couldn't tell for sure which.

"Jack, I can explain, it was..."

"Yeah, yeah, it was an accident or an act of God, right? I thought I knew the difficulties between men and women, how it seldom works out. Yet I kept trying like a fool." His hands were clenching and unclenching, his breathing was erratic. For the first time since I had met him, I actually felt fear that he might hurt me. Strangely it sounded like he wasn't surprised by my affair, but I didn't have time to contemplate it.

Instead he ran into the garage and I heard his truck start up, an old Ford that he kept in running condition. He always joked it gave him 'farm cred' when he used to go out and service his animal patients. Even when he gave up being a vet, he kept that stupid pickup. Directly after that, I heard the automatic garage door start to open and before I could race out into the driveway, I could see through the glass of the front window that he was peeling out into the residential street.

"Please, God, let him wear his seat belt," I heard. My spawn was on the stairwell glancing out the picture window as well.

"What the hell do you care? You did this to him!" I shouted.

"What do you mean 'I' did this to him, my hopefully soon to be ex-mother? I didn't screw a guy almost young enough to be my child while married to a man that only thinks rainbows and puppies come out when I pass gas. You are so monumentally naive."

What an evil little bitch I raised. I needed her out of here. I started to put together a plan to salvage my life and the first step was to ship the prude off to her grandparents. After I confiscated her phone, of course, and destroyed the disc she had burned for her father to watch.

"You are going to your visit your mamaw and papaw. I would advise you not to mention any of this to them. You no longer have any proof and I can certainly make life extremely difficult for you while you still live under this roof. You are crazy if you think I can't control your father once he calms down. So, my loving daughter, fruit of my loins, DON'T FUCK WITH ME!" I screamed at the end. She ran upstairs, scared I thought, but then I didn't know about 'the cloud' at that point. Fucking computers...

A day passed, my daughter was safely (or so I thought) stowed away where she couldn't hurt me further, and my husband finally came home. His eyes were red and he looked like he hadn't yet slept.

I had rubbed my eyes furiously when I heard him pull up and I hadn't changed clothes. After some artful arrangement, when he came into the living room, it also looked like I was in drastic shape. I carefully breathed out in a little girl's voice, "Please forgive me...I must have had a breakdown, I (sniffle) don't know what came over me for me to let it happen."

His look was cold, even through his pain. His look was full of some unfathomable emotion. I slowly rose and wrapped my arms around him, but I noticed he didn't return the gesture. He simply stood like a fence-post or a tree, unbending.

"I failed you, us, and our daughter. I can't fix what I did, I still love you (sob) and I won't fight it if you want to leave me." I took a calculated risk, it could go either way, but I think the odds were definitely in my favor.

He finally spoke. "Would you stop rubbing your body up against mine, because I can't concentrate when you do that. I'm tired and I need more time to think without your influence. I'm going to go sleep in the bedroom for a bit, with the door locked, so you need to get whatever you need out of there and go to the spare bedroom."

Good, he didn't bite on the divorce gambit. I ran upstairs and grabbed some things from the closet and master bathroom, then carried them into the spare bedroom down the hall. As I was coming back, I heard the lock click on the door. I tapped on the door lightly. "Jack, can we at least talk soon?"

"We can talk in the morning. Sit tight, hold the fort, and keep the home fires burning. If I'm not awake by dawn...call the President."

Now was the hard part. I needed to look even worse, so I avoided drinking water or eating. I messed up my hair further and stuck my finger down my throat so I could vomit up a bit of fluid onto my sundress. Some snot carefully applied also added to the look.

Additionally, I placed a glass of straight vodka near me and put a little Vaseline on the back of my hand. I forced myself to stay awake through the rest of the day and night to increase the appearance of weariness.

When Jack came down the next morning, I quickly rubbed some of the Vaseline on my teeth to help keep my lips open in kind of a rictus grin. I also splashed a couple of drops of the remaining vodka in my eyes to create redness and tears. It fucking hurt, but it was necessary.

I could see he looked worlds better, even though he was still devastated. Even better was the clear concern in his face over my appearance. He still loved me. I had a shot.

"Jesus, Grace, you look horrible! Let's get you to bed." He picked me up and carried me to the main bedroom, score! I sobbed into his shoulder as he brought me into the room and laid me down. It was even better when he laid down next to me and started talking.

"You hurt me, Grace, you really shook the pillars of heaven. But I don't want you to hurt yourself. Mom called and said that they were taking care of Margo, so we need to talk." He looked uncomfortable, but he continued, "I thought about this real hard, I mean harder than I ever thought in my life. I think I might be willing to give you another chance, but you need to get counselling on your problems. There is one more thing..."

"Anything, love, I swear I-"

"Hush!" he almost shouted. I guess he wasn't as over it as I thought. "There is one more thing, Grace. You probably won't like it, but I need you to feel the soul ripping pain you put me through. I can't tell you when it will happen, but sometime in the future I am going to sleep with another woman and film it. If you want this...us...to work going forward, you will have to watch me fuck someone and bring them to multiple screaming orgasms. You will have to watch my cum dripping out of their holes. We will be even then."

I was shocked, for real. I had created a monster out of my loving spouse and he was determined to savage me. The mere thought of him doing to another female what I did to my lovers was almost more than I could bear. But, I needed him. I had to suffer through this for my life to get back to where it was.

"I just want you to know also that before we have sex again, you need to be tested for STD's. After I get my revenge at some point in the future, I will do the same. In the interim, assuming we do become intimate again, I will be wearing condom. With my trust issues right now, I can't put it past you to try an conceive another child to try an tie me to you further."

"I understand, Jack, my love. I don't want to feel the same pain, but I will to keep you. I'll suffer through anything for that!" I thought it was a bit hammy, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

We settled into an uneasy routine over the next few months. My demon child returned to a home where she couldn't understand why we weren't divorced. I simply smirked at her and reminded her that I ran this family. She didn't challenge me directly again after that. Counselling was a breeze as well, I simply blamed an addiction to sex. The doctor ate it up and regurgitated it to my hubby like he was a baby egret.

The problem was, as I mentioned before, my husband went out of his way to fuck me silly. He took control of the bedroom, right out of my grasp. I wondered every time he took me if he had learned his new passionate techniques from another woman. When we didn't have sex because he claimed to be ill or tired, I fretted. Was tomorrow the day I would get to see him ravishing some whore, thrusting his cock into her body, possibly falling in love with her?

The sum effect was devastating. I lost all of my confidence as the year progressed. I couldn't risk an outside liaison getting back to my husband, so I was reliant solely on him. I pined when he didn't show me attention, I lost weight and I wasn't fat to begin with. Even my hair lost it's sheen and became brittle. People at work told me I looked like I had went through a shock and aged 10 years. I couldn't sleep, my joints hurt, maybe I was prematurely aging?

Worst of all, I began to obsess over and (dare I say it) really love my husband. I had nothing and he had everything. Every day I waited for my world to be ripped away from me and, like some evil priest from a movie, for my Jack to gleefully cackle and thrust his hand into my chest to tear out my still beating heart. My scheme had backfired worse than a winter attack on Russia. Who would have thought that the master schemer would fall into a trap of her own making?

Finally, almost a year to the day, I could take it no longer. I decided to remove the plug and see what happened. I sent my daughter to her grandparents again and resolved to have it out with my loving husband. He needed to shit or get off the pot, or I was leaving. Even though I truly loved him, for the first time really, I could suffer no further.

"Jack, I can't take this anymore. I need you to hurry up and find this other woman, have sex with her, and let me watch the tape so we can get past this."

He simply looked at me. I felt a cold, creeping sensation crawl across my body as I realized the look was the same as the one he gave me a year ago. The gaze an insect collector has went he sees a particularly interesting bug he wants to collect, or possibly the feverish glance of a young sociopath burning ants with a magnifying glass. What had I wrought in my actions?

"You really think I would stoop to your level, Gracie?" He said in a cool voice. I noticed he used my full given name, something he never did as he preferred the moniker 'Grace'.

"I never intended to do what I told you. All I did this past year was to destroy you. I wanted you to finally love me, so that when you could take no more of the worry and doubt, you would give me an ultimatum." He stood and went into his study. I heard the turn of a key in a lock and he came back with a large envelope. "You can sign these, or not, I don't care. We've come full circle, you and I. I no longer care one iota about you and you love me with everything you have. I couldn't care if you became a crack whore downtown and sold yourself to vagrants, while you don't want to deal with the worry of me sleeping with one woman for vengeance."

"You see, you now feel what I felt. You know what it feels like to wonder every day if the one you love is going to throw away that love and trust for a simple fuck. When I went away to think, I never intended to resolve anything. I simply wanted to hurt you as deeply as I could without physically torturing you."

I looked at the papers he handed me, divorce papers signed and dated just under one year ago. My tears blurred out the specifics, but they didn't really matter at this point.

"There was one chance, Gracie, one. If sometime during the year you came clean, quit trying to pass this off as some mental issue, and actually apologized, we MIGHT have reconciled. But you didn't. You prevaricated and tried to con your way out of it, like I suspected you would. I'm not stupid, Gracie. I've had my suspicions for a long time and I'm fairly certain that student wasn't your first 'outside man'. I let it go because of our daughter and because I loved you then as much as you love me now. In any case, we are done. Sign the papers if you like, but get your stuff and leave. Margo is staying with me, she is old enough to choose now and that means I get to keep the house until she graduates. You make more than me, so good luck on getting alimony. Shoo, now, Margo will be home soon and I don't want you here."

I was Frankenstein, gazing upon his creature after it murdered his friend and wife. I doubted I would die of Pneumonia anytime soon, but I was as dead inside as the creator of Mary Shelley's monster. He had planned all of this, I even had to wonder if his suspicions and plans had begun around the time he decided to become a trucker. It certainly offset the amount of money made between us and screwed up my chances to use alimony as a weapon to delay the divorce.

He was also correct that my daughter was old enough to be heavily weighted as a factor in where she would reside custody-wise. Truthfully, the settlement was more than fair. With him making less money and most likely becoming the custody holder, I could have been forced to pay him alimony.

I still could have taken it to court, tied everything up for months or years, but the sheer economic cost of having a lawyer for that long made it foolhardy. Since I had few options, I reluctantly signed the papers then and there, gathering a few things before I left. I would just have movers get the rest. They were only possessions, after all. What I really wanted I could no longer have.