Saturday

In April 2016, GeorgeAnderson wrote a fine tale called, 'Friday'. In it, a wife was led astray by four friends and ended up having sex with all four of them while her very pissed off husband was tied to a chair watching. It damned near killed their marriage. I liked it as a story except for one thing. The four perps walked away unpunished; free to destroy another couple. I took offence at that; so this is the story of the next man they tried it with. Unfortunately for Chrissy, Anna, Bill and Todd, his name was Dave.

This story is written with the kind blessing of Mr. Anderson, a big hearted man, and will make much more sense if you read his story first. He actually develops his characters. You can find it at:

https://www.literotica.com/s/friday-15

Thanks, once again to the lady that is trying to improve my barbarian spelling and punctuation.

If you like reconciliation, or faint at the sight of blood. STOP READING

NOW.

***********

Sounds. Try to focus on the sounds. Two people talking. Machines beeping in the background. Female voice.

"His pulse has been slowly rising for the last half an hour and he's twitched a few times. I think he's coming around."

"Thank you nurse. Mr. Brown, can you hear me? 10cc of adrenaline please, nurse."

Stabbing feeling in right bicep. Rushing feeling in ears. Right eyelid lifted and bright light shone in eye. The left follows. Try to lift right arm to remove annoying prick with the torch. Confusion. Right arm won't move. Try left arm. Good, that moves. Push annoying light and person away. Open eyes, blink a few times, scan the room. Occupants; one bored looking nurse; one tired looking doctor; guy in suit, looking worried. Talk gibberish to doctor in white jacket. Watch him take blood pressure; bash my knees and elbows with a small hammer; nod and mumble to guy in suit. Doctor and nurse leave. Confused looking guy on bed, i.e. me, looks at guy in suit.

"Do I know you?"

"Oh God, I was afraid of this. I'm Doctor Jones from ward 5B, don't you remember me?"

I shake my head from side to side; he sighs.

"Well, for the record, we've talked just about every day for the last three weeks."

I look right, and see my right wrist handcuffed to the hospital bed. I look at Dr. Jones with raised eyebrows.

"Ward 5B is the psych ward. You've been a patient there under my care for three weeks. Somehow, last night you were given somewhere around six times the normal dose of a sedative and almost died. If you hadn't fallen out of bed and knocked a vase of flowers over, the night nurse would never have come in and saved you. We're investigating how the dosage was exceeded, but between you and me, it's a bit of a mystery. Now, there's someone outside to see you, she'll be very happy to see you're all right."

The suited man goes to the door and pokes his head out to say something. He comes back in, followed by an attractive brunette, about my age, looking sheepish. My face remains blank. I know it does, it's my face. All three of us stare at each other, the silence broken by the sound of the heart rate monitor I am still attached to rapidly climbing the scale. Suddenly I launch to the full extent of my manacled arm.

"You bitch! You fucking bitch!"

The look of fear on the woman's face as she races out the door. The weight of the guy in the suit pressing me back to the bed. The orderly racing in to help him. The sound of the heart rate monitor dropping below 200BPM. The prick in the arm, administered by the prick in the suit and the return to blackness.

*****

It is the next morning, I presume. Housekeeper vacuuming my room, burly orderly standing just inside the door ready to pounce if I look even sideways at her. Scratch nose with right arm. Hey, it's not handcuffed anymore. Just noticed how hungry I am when catering ladies come in with breakfast. Room vacated with emphasis on locking the door. Bored. Faces looking through glass windows on doors. Brunette from yesterday, looking worried, lips moving. Dr. Jones at other window, shaking his head. Nurse opening door, giving me two pills and watching as I put them in my mouth, one at a time, followed by a mouthful of water. Nurse turning to look at door windows, then turning back and hissing.

"Asshole! The next time you want to off yourself, do it when I'm not on shift."

Nurse leaving. Sleepy now. Lunch, hmm, inspiring. Bored again. Time to think. Collected by orderly and taken to a small studio like conference room. Dr. Jones is already there.

"Good afternoon, Dave. I'm Dr. Jones."

"Yes, I know that Doctor, we met yesterday."

"Of course, of course. I didn't know if you would remember. In fact, we met three weeks ago. I've been treating you since then."

"I'm sorry, Doctor, I have no memory of you before yesterday."

"Yes, I was afraid of that. So, you have no knowledge of why you're here?"

"If by here, you mean the psych ward of a hospital, no, I have no idea why I'm here. Are you going to tell me?"

I could tell my voice was a boring monotone and felt a little embarrassed about that. The good doctor told me a tale in words obviously chosen with some care.

"You were brought here three weeks ago, David, after a suspected psychotic episode. I have to tell you some people were... hurt during your episode. The police arrested you, but the duty medical examiner intervened and you were brought here."

"That doesn't sound like me, Doctor; I wouldn't normally hurt a fly."

"Yes, we know that, David. We've thoroughly investigated your background. Since you've been here, you've been declared medically incompetent and placed under the guardianship of your wife."

"Wife, yes I have a wife. She was the lady in the hospital yesterday, wasn't she?"

Disappointed nod.

"That's right, Jane, I remember now. I hope I didn't upset her with my disgusting behavior yesterday."

"She'll be fine David. She's hardly left your side since you've been here. Anyway, over the last three weeks, I've been slowly and very carefully regressing you back to the night that your... episode occurred, to try to determine your state of mind at the time. It's important for the police, you understand. We were making really good progress and then you were accidentally overdosed with sedatives. Now, we appear to be back at square one. This time, though, the police are pressuring me for results."

"What results, Doctor?"

"Well, to be blunt, whether or not at the time the incident occurred, you were technically sane. It's a difficult case and the illicit drugs aren't helping, they seem to be masking even your deepest memories."

"Drugs?"

"Yes, when you were brought in here, there were traces of ecstasy in your blood, amongst other things."

"I don't do drugs, Doc."

"Yes, you said that last time. Anyway, rather than start from the beginning, I'm going to try showing you some of the highlights from our recorded chats since you've been here. Is that okay?"

"Can I ask two questions first, Doc?"

"Of course."

"Why do my wrists itch and do you have any popcorn?"

Finally, a smile.

"Your wrists itch because when you were brought here, you had abrasions on them and the scabs got itchy while they healed, and no, we don't have popcorn. This is a hospital, thus food with flavor is outlawed, but it's good to see your sense of humor is returning."

The doctor nodded to a technician, who pressed buttons. I watched myself on film, boring monotone voice and all. I watched myself describing my upbringing. Orphan at 12, in and out of foster homes and institutions until adulthood. Intelligent, scholarship, good job. Marriage to Jane, only daughter of a rich, over protective father. Jane also intelligent, ambitious, upwardly mobile with eyes on the prize of politics. Member of countless committees to get public exposure. Recently joined a new company and immediately adopted by two new work friends, Chrissy and Anna. Started going out on girl's nights with them every week, on Saturday. Being invited to go with them and going around to Chrissy's house to be greeted by Chrissy, Anna and their husbands, Bill and Todd. Taking an instant dislike to them when they immediately ogled Jane. Film stops.

"That's as far as we got, David."

"What can you tell me about my incident, Doc?"

"Nothing, David. It's vitally important that you remember, yourself. Since people got hurt, I have to report to the police your state of mind at the time. Let's just say, if you were technically insane at the time then good things will happen to you. If you weren't, then bad things will happen. I think you had a psychotic episode, perhaps triggered by drugs, and then compartmentalized that away to protect yourself. My job is to unlock that compartment. By you leading us through your state of mind, I can assess what to write in my report. That's all for today. For homework tonight, try to remember the party you and Jane went to that Saturday night. We'll talk about that tomorrow."

"I'll try, Doc. Can I ask another question?"

"Of course."

"How did I overdose on sedatives? I presume you have some sort of system to account for them all."

The good doctor gave me a searching look.

"Yes, we have an excellent system that should be foolproof. To be honest, David, the nurses think you managed to not swallow some of your medication, but instead, hoarded them."

"Why would I do that?"

"Again, the nurses think you were attempting suicide. They think you feel guilty about what happened and wanted to end it all."

"I don't remember what I did, Doc, so why would I feel guilty about it?"

"Yes, there is that, although who knows how the subconscious works?"

"Someone said yesterday that my wife had hardly left my side in the last three weeks, I'm really confused by how I reacted to her yesterday. She obviously loves me, but did I love her?"

"Yes you did. From all our discussions it's clear that you love her almost obsessively."

"And yet, yesterday I tried to reach her to hurt her. Tell me, Doc, did she ever give me the sedatives?"

The good doctor's face paled at that. He excused himself and left the room. It was a good ten minutes before he returned, looking very thoughtful.

"Two of the nurses reported that they sometimes gave Jane the medicine to give to you. That is a serious breach of protocol, but they both said that she obviously loved you dearly and saw no harm in it. However... "

"What is it, Doc?"

"When you were brought in that first night, you were babbling something about her. You blamed her for something but we never took it seriously. I mean, the police said that the evidence at the scene, and the witnesses, left no doubt what happened. If what you said had even a hint of truth, then Jane would have to be a very good actress to pull that off."

"Did I hear myself tell you earlier that she was a prominent member of the city amateur dramatic society, Doc?"

At that point, I stood and shuffled to the door. I heard Doctor Jones pick up the phone behind me. "Carol, could you put me through to that Detective Fenton, please."

Back to room, cardboard dinner, darkness falling, another nurse watching me swallow pills. Lights turned off, left alone, door locked. Wait half a minute, go to tiny toilet, finger down throat, identify tablets, flush down toilet. Return to bed, plan, plot, scheme.

*****

Why didn't you ask me where I met Jane, Doc? It was at the local amateur dramatic society. I was already a good actor before joining them. Years of acting normal had done that. I wasn't normal; no child ripped by fate from a loving family and put in the brutal state system could be. If there was anyone within the system that was normal, I never met them. By 15, I knew that violence was the only answer to violence, and the only one who gave a damn about you was you.

Memories scroll across my consciousness. Ten years after being declared an adult and released from the system, no one would ever know that I was damaged. No one should ever have known. My dream was that the love that I felt for Jane would last forever and conceal the beast that I kept caged within me. I did love Jane, and wanted nothing more than to father her children, retire with her and die in her loving arms, and we were right on track for that. I married her against her father's wishes. We both had good jobs and I supported her ambitions, even though it took her away from me much more that I liked. Then, she changed jobs to one with better promotional prospects. Then, she met Chrissy and Anna, girls I instinctively didn't like. Then, the girls' nights started despite me reminding Jane what her predecessor, Lena somebody, had told her about the terrible duo. "Don't turn your back on Chrissy and Anna." Then, the subtle pressure to think about wife swapping and group sex. No, no, no, hell no. The apparent backing down on her part and the seeming return to normality on mine. The easing of tensions, and the return to being the most attentive, considerate husband in the history of marriage.

Then, the out of the blue invitation to join them on their girls' night. I was very pleased; that gave me an extra evening with Jane and might allay my suspicions about her new friends. I trusted Jane completely and had absolute faith she would never hurt me. After all, absolute love can't exist without giving your mate the power to destroy you. I did know, that because of her protected upbringing, she was relatively easily led, however. I welcomed the chance to see that I was right to trust her.

I genuinely don't remember much about the beginning of that girls' night. We didn't go out partying, just to Chrissy and Bill's place. Chrissy and Anna, I'd met, their husbands, Bill and Todd, I hadn't. Both girls were what some people call eye candy. Not this somebody, though, he had eyes only for his wife. As I said, I took an instant dislike to the guys. Their kiss of greeting to Jane and lingering eye contact caused my hackles to rise. It was inappropriate. I expected Jane to say so; she said nothing. When drinks were offered, I wanted a beer, but husbands of upwardly mobile women don't admit to liking beer. I accepted a G & T instead. The first one was okay and relaxed me enough not to appear standoffish. I debated refusing a second one. I hadn't missed the looks that everyone was exchanging. In the end, Bill insisted and I accepted. By this stage, we were all at the dining room table, playing some sort of game. Don't ask me what it was.

The spinning of my head and rushing noise in my ears was the first clue something was wrong. My face, involuntarily turning into a grin, was the second. I'd been drinking since I was 14; one and a half drinks don't do that to me. That takes about eight. Everyone was staring at me and I was swaying. Todd and Bill stood on either side of me, holding an arm each, asking if I was okay. Chrissy grabbed something from a drawer and walked behind me. I felt my arms being guided through the wooden slats of the chair back. Cold steel handcuffs keeping them there. Head struggling to remain upright. Chrissy handing Bill and Todd rolls of tape to affix my legs to those of the chair. Jane, my Jane, coming over to kiss me and whisper, "Shush, Darling, Chrissy assures me they've done this before and the husbands always end up loving it. Watch me play to start with, then it will be your turn."

Me, trying to get my mouth to work, or at least stop this stupid grin whatever drug they'd put in my second drink was causing. Chrissy and Anna taking Jane to the other side of the table and sensuously removing her top. No bra. Confirmation, as if I needed it, that this was all pre-planned. Bill and Todd setting up two video cameras on tripods. One, covering me and the rest of the dining room, the second, the lounge with its centerpiece, a huge fluffy sheepskin. My wife closing her eyes and sighing as both breasts were cupped and suckled. I tried to move, but as yet, outrage was subordinate to drugs. Jane's eyes opening briefly and my smile triggering hers. Anna keeping suckling while Chrissy kneels and removes Jane's jeans; again, no panties. Both girls leading Jane to the edge of the table. Anna going back to cupping one breast and pinching the nipple while chewing on the other. Chrissy, spreading Jane's legs, forcing her to lean backwards over the table and lapping at her sex. Jane, with eyes clenched shut now, moaning. Todd and Bill, returning to their chairs to watch the show. Me helpless, wondering when Jane had become bisexual and asking my drug fucked brain if that was an entirely bad thing.

Jane, forcing her right arm between her own body and Anna, to join the left in clamping Chrissy's head in place while she screams in orgasm. Her body relaxing, allowing the other two girls to maneuver her onto the table, on her back, right in front of me. Offence turning to outrage, half a minute into the next scene. Chrissy exchanging places with Anna. The latter taking her place as chief carpet muncher; not really an appropriate appellation as I notice Jane is now clean-shaven for the first time since we met. Chrissy clambering on the table to straddle my wife's head and lower herself onto Jane's face. My vantage point allowing me to see Jane's tongue extend and start lapping the sloppy offering. Bill and Todd rising, walking to go to each side of the table and insert Jane's now vacant nipples in their mouths. Jane's eyes closing again and she's moaning continually now. This scene building up enough outrage that my adrenaline begins to overcome the drugs and I regain control of my face at least.

I hear my mouth mumble incoherently. No one else does. Jane's body bucking like a wild bronco as she comes again, followed by Chrissy thrashing and screaming. Everyone slowing down. Chrissy climbing off the table, allowing Bill to move up to Jane's face to lick his wife's juices off. His hand now toying with the breast his face has vacated. Todd's mouth keeping going on the other breast but a hand going to Jane's recently vacated groin and gently stroking it. Next to succumb to adrenaline, after my face, is my tongue. This time everyone hears me, "No." Jane turns her face away from Bill's tongue to look at me. I have no idea what she's seeing, but it causes her face to pull into a frown and doubt to appear in her eyes. While I am trying to do manually, what is normally an autonomic action, that is, say something more sophisticated than, "No," Jane beats me to it.

"Are you guys sure he'll enjoy this? He looks... "

"Don't worry about it, Janey; they always react like this to start with."

After this statement, Chrissy nods her head towards Bill and a set of drawers behind me. Bill walks over and retrieves something. I push my head backwards to allow me to focus as a red ball gag appears. The only thing I notice is that it already has teeth marks in it. I manage to get out a stern, "Jane, no," before it is roughly pulled tight. Bill and Todd admire their handiwork. Bill walks away. Todd leans in to me. "Enjoy the show, wimp." He then walks after Bill, with a, "Right, our turn." They lead Jane into the lounge and onto the rug. I lock eyes on her head, but she pointedly avoids eye contact. With obviously practiced familiarity, Jane gets on all fours in the center of the rug. Todd lies at her head end, their bodies making a right angle. Bill kneels behind her and with no further ado, mounts her. On the way down to the cock below, her face is turned towards me. Bereft of all other means of communication, I violently shake my head and made uh-uh noises. Jane's face looks almost stricken as it turns from me to Chrissy, who nods with encouragement. Further expression is lost to me as Jane turns away and lowers her lips onto Todd's cock.