Work was hell, but at the very least I knew I was going to have a good time tonight. Sinne was in town, and with a couple of fibs about going out with the guys I'd be out the door without my wife any the wiser. Preparing my excuse-- it was going to be a "co-worker's last day" this time-- I opened the front door and saw any adulterer's nightmare: my wife was sitting there in the front room. With Sinne. Talking very intensely about something. All thought of what I was going to do that night-- the lies I'd tell, the hot, exhilarating sex Sinne and I would have once again... hell, even my own name-- all vanished in the single thought of how I'd afford a decent lawyer on my salary while my wife bled the accounts dry and got her rich family to spring for hers. Damndamndamn!
And then Sinne turned to me, and that bitch actually
smiled
at me. Like the cat that just ate the canary. Or something. I was even more speechless. I yet didn't know how I was going to kill her, but I was certain then that it was going to happen. I groped for words, but I needn't have bothered. Sinne had the floor. "Ah, you must be Mr. Baal. I'm Gloria Sinne, and I've just been having the most pleasant conversation with your wife."
She extended her hand to me as if we'd never met before. I stared at her a moment. The moment drew on. I didn't take her hand, I just looked at it as if it would bite me. Sinne's smile froze on the verge of cracking. I glanced at my wife, who was looking at me quizzically, but not angrily, and realized this was one of Sinne's little games. Not funny, this time, dammit. Not fucking funny. I took a deep breath, mumbled a greeting, and then excused myself rudely. I heard my wife apologizing to Sinne, telling her that I'd been very stressed at work lately and that she shouldn't be insulted or anything. But that it was certainly nice talking to her, after all, and they'd have to do it again sometime. I sat in my easy chair in the living room fuming but trying to maintain a semblance of peace. My knuckles whitened on the arm of the chair. The last thing Sinne said as she walked out the door was: "I hope to see you soon."
Some of the upholstery tore. I knew one person who would be seeing her soon. Very soon.
***
The instant we entered her hotel I slapped her as hard as I could, leaving an ugly red mark on her face. Unrepentant, she grinned through the tears; I'd hit her hard. "Mmmm... starting early tonight, are we?" she hummed, and tick-tocked her hips.
I slammed her up against the bathroom door with my forearm against her chest and hissed into her face, "Just what the fuck was that, huh?!?"
"What do you think it was?" She wasn't as defiant now. Sometimes she liked it rough, but I knew she didn't really like it
this
rough. And perhaps she saw something in my eyes which told her that this wasn't foreplay of any kind.
"I think it was you trying to fuck with my mind."
Something about this struck her as funny. "That's pretty close," she gasped between the beginnings of laughter.
I almost hit her again, I swear to god, and I don't know if I would have stopped. But I don't enjoy hitting women, really-- it's not my thing, and I've known my share of girlfriends who had been battered by other guys. It's traumatic to even hear about, and I always hated the psychos who did that crap. So my fury was becoming less violent, if not dimming in any other way. I lowered her from the wall, and deliberately unclenched my fists. I turned away. And breathed. "What you did today was not funny. Not. You know that."
"Yes."
"Yes? So you almost kill me with a heart-attack, and then finally agree with me that it wasn't an amusing trick? Well, I suppose I feel much better now."
"It's now becoming funny, though, because you're behaving like a bratty little schoolboy."
"Fuck you. You had no right. I'm going to buy a plane ticket in the morning and go hang out with Clive. Maybe we'll play racquetball together, and then I'll tell him about the hot little piece of ass I'm screwing. And then give him explicit details about her. Scars, moles..."
"Enough."
"... the little noises she makes..."
"I said, 'enough'!" She was getting angry, now. She knew damn well she had as much to lose in this as I had.
"Oh, now it's not funny, huh? Now you're mad? Serves you right, you bitch."
She glared at me. I glared back. Finally she dropped her eyes.
"You're right. I should have warned you. I should-- "
"Warned me? Like that would have made it better?"
"Stop. Just stop and let me talk, will you? There is a method to my madness, okay? I should have let you in on it, but I wanted to surprise you."
"It worked."
"Not what I had in mind, actually. I was planning on being out of there by the time you came home, but things took a little longer than I'd expected."
I sat down on the bed, and pulled out a bottle of crummy vodka from the mini-bar. Popov, I think. "What are you getting at?" I said between swallows.
"I wasn't fucking with your mind. I was fucking with hers."
"Excuse me?"
"You're excused. Remember some of the games we played last year? With the whole Master/Slave worship thing?"
"Yeah, of course." It has been incredibly hot, but where was this going?
"Remember that you hypnotized me, and made me do whatever you wanted?"
"Yes. That was fun." Damn right it was fun. Watching her strip outside on the hotel balcony where passers-by could see, then taking her on the bed...
"Well, I couldn't forget it." She licked her lips, and I could tell she was locked in the same memory as me. She broke her reverie. "So. Anyways. I was looking into things, and reading some stuff, and... well..." She turned suddenly and grinned at me, looking very much the same as when I saw her in my front room earlier that night. "I hypnotized your wife."
"You what?"
"Hypnotized her. You know, entranced, sleepy, eyes closed but mind open..."