The Spider Paradine a short novella by Josephine S. Vanner - the final chapter

The Spider Paradine

a short novella by

Josephine S. Vanner

The characters and events in this book are a work of fiction from the author's imagination and in no way reflect any real events or real people.

The final chapter

The skimpy thong revelation.

Diane looked down at Gerry's collapsed body lying prone of the floor, her emotions towards him flat-lined. She felt not the slightest concern that something dreadful had just happened to her husband. His eyes stared back up at her without seeing beyond unconsciousness. He was no longer moaning, which all things considered she decided was a good sign as the noise was very irritating.

Thankfully, he'd also stopped moving. Of course, she told herself that could have had something to do with the handcuffs and ankle cuffs. He couldn't say anything to her because the little red ball attached to the leather straps in his mouth was preventing him from speaking. Again, it was, she decided, a good thing he couldn't talk to her. He was bound to be rude if he could.

She had played her part in the game, she consoled herself. The meal as Larry had said so often was stunningly delicious. By the time they all trooped into the living room they were well and truly mellow with copious amounts of champagne, red wine and brandy.

“I fancy a gin and tonic.” Diane said to the prone Gerry. He'd never liked her drinking gin and tonic. He'd said gin and tonic was common and that vodka and tonic was so much more sophisticated.

She poured herself a large measure from the bottle of gin she had hidden in the kitchen cupboard and sat back down on the sofa to look at Gerry and drink his health.

“Cheers.” She said as she raised her glass. Gerry's lashes fluttered as he attempted to gesticulate at her with pleading eyes.

She took a large swig of her drink and asked, “Is there something you want me to do for you?” This time his eyes didn't move.

“Obviously not. I think I done more than enough for you, don't you think so Gerry?”

She did wonder if she should do something for her stricken husband. What was it? When a person has, what she suspected was a stroke, it was very important to get help quickly. Now was it, 6 seconds, 60 seconds or 6 minutes.

666 Gerry dearest, 666.

Diane decided to err on the side of caution and wait before she called the ambulance. It gave her time to relive the events of that evening.

Gerry had never allowed her to arrange his toys for him. Clean them, polish them and oil them, yes - but touch them in any other way and she would be on the wrong side of his temper.

He'd put the trestle table, he called his 'love alter', covered with a bright scarlet red satin cloth in front of the fireplace. Arranged on it in order of fun were his toys.

Number one, his riding crop, glistening, it shone brightly from her efforts. Springy and stingy he would say as he bent it almost double before swinging it down on her bare backside.

Next in his order of fun, the stubby handled whip with long soft leather lashes.

Last in his collection, handcuffs, ankle cuffs and a varied assortment of gags and hoods.

Behind the 'love alter', Gerry had set up the clothes rail. Batman and superman costumes, hung beside two French maids outfits and a nurses uniform, all arranged neatly in order of length.

“Ta-da.” Gerry had said excitedly waving his arms in the direction of his toys as his guests entered the living room.

Reactions, apart from Anna's, did not go according to Gerry's plan.

Jess, almost wet herself laughing.

Harry, said nothing.

Gerry had mistook Harry's silence for approval and began to strip off his shirt and pants. He'd chosen for the occasion his favorite lime green, skimpiest thong with an orange colored furry dick pouch. His anticipation of the game to come had filled the fluffy pouch to a fully upright position.

Anna had whooped with delight and copied Gerry, wasting no time in stripping down to her kickers, she gave the room full view of her large sagging bosoms.

“What the 'ell.” Larry shouted, “Put your bloody clothes on woman.” He commanded to Anna.

“Shan't.” Anna had responded petulantly.

“Yes you bloody will.” He grabbed her blouse and roughly slung it around her shoulders.

“And what the 'ell do you think your doing?” He shouted lunging at Gerry stabbing a finger at the space in front of his increasingly horrified host.

“I...I...I...thought you were all up for my game.” Gerry stuttered, “Jess only didn't swing with her hairdresser's husband because she didn't fancy him. And you like to crawl the kerbs looking for hookers...” His voice trailed off as he looked from one to the other of his astonished guests.

“I was only joking. I didn't fancy my hairdresser's husband because we're not into that sort of thing.” Jess answered between gulps of laughter, tears running down her face, “Silly sod, put your clothes on.”

Harry had not been so understanding. He pulled Larry out of the way and told Gerry, in a cold even voice, “If you ever come near Jess and me again, I will have you arrested as a sex pest. Understand?” With that he took hold of Jess's hand and left. Managing with a supreme effort to contain himself until they were in their own hallway and behind their closed front-door,then he too fell about laughing.

“Who the 'ell do you think you are? You, jumped up piece of something I scrape from my boot. I may not want to screw my wife but I'm bloody well sure you're not going to.” Larry yelled his voice rising several decibels as he too yanked his wife out of the room, and pulled a semi naked, Anna, back to their cottage.

Gerry had stood for a long time after they had all left, saying nothing. Diane, almost felt sorry for him but was more concerned, however, with what his reaction to her would be, once he'd overcome his shock.

She lifted the handcuffs and ankle-cuffs from the table putting them on him saying, “Never mind darling, look I've put these on for you. Would you like me to whip you?”

When he didn't answer her, she placed the gag with the red ball in his mouth and tightened the strap, “How about this then? Will this make you happy?”

Diane took hold of the riding crop and whacked him across his buttocks, “Take this you bad bad boy.” She chastised bringing the crop down as hard as she dare.

It was on the third thwack of the riding crop that his eyeballs went up into his head and he'd made a strange rattling sound, just before he fell forward onto the carpet. He had thrashed around for several minutes before he went very still.

Diane finished her gin and tonic and knelt on the floor next to Gerry, placing an ear against his mouth, she strained her hearing to see if he was breathing - he was – barely.

For the greater part of her marriage, Diane had to do as she was told. “You will toe the line.” Gerry would say to her whenever she looked like rebelling at his control over her.

“Do you want me to take the gag off?” She asked in obedience mode.

Diane took his non response as, no.

An idea flashed itself through her brain, “I know what I'll do.” She told him.

Empowered by a sudden sense of being in control she removed the duvet and pillow off the spare bed. Placing the pillow under Gerry's head and covering him with the duvet she left him to sleep the night peacefully on the floor.

How comfortable the bed was without him. How hugely spacious. She could stretch out without being told she was causing a draft or that she bounced around too much and best of all she could scratch the night time itches without being made to stay still and endure them.

Next morning, after the first night's peaceful sleep, in she didn't know how long, Diane went downstairs to check on Gerry. He was as she left him.

“Good morning Gerry.” There was a brightness to Diane, that only the downtrodden who had been set free can explain.

His eyes followed her across the room with an unaccustomed dullness, staring blankly at her as she pulled back the cover. She undid the buckle at the back of the gag and waited as he tried and failed to speak.

“Best get rid of all this before anyone comes.” Diane waved a hand at his 'love alter'.

She placed his toys in the box, collapsed the trestle table, folded the costumes and undid the clothes rail. When everything was put away, she removed the hand and ankle-cuffs from Gerry and then put those away too.

He lifted a weak hand up to her then let if fall back to the floor.

“Oh dear. I don't think you are very well. I'd better call the doctor. Do you want me to leave your thong on?”

The lime green Lycra thong had rucked up under his paunch and the furry orange dick pouch hung limp. It made her think of a bird's wing that once soared high in the sky but was now broken and useless, an empty sack of nothingness between his legs – but then it had always been empty – for her.

Then another idea struck her. She went back upstairs and got Gerry's pajamas and placed them on the floor beside him. Next she cut off the skimpy thong and threw it in the kitchen trashcan.

Acting as if she was genuinely upset at her husband's collapse, she rang for an ambulance.

“999 an upside down 666.” She giggled as she pressed the buttons on the phone.

***

Diane poured herself a large gin and tonic and sat watching daytime TV in blissful euphoria.

Gerry had never allowed her to watch daytime TV, “It's common watching television during the day. It's something only the unintelligent do.” He would remind her should she dare reach for the television remote before 6 pm.

She was never quite sure whether he was making a sarcastic stab at her lack of education or he really was that stupidly pompous, either way it didn't matter what Gerry thought any more.

Thanks to Gerry's pajamas lying next to him on the floor, it had generally been assumed he'd had his stroke whilst getting ready for bed and that Diane, asleep upstairs, knew nothing about it until she came down the next morning. She decided it was best people thought that way and left it at that.

That had been one happy year earlier.

She put her feet up on the footstool and turned the sound of the TV up to drown out the noise from the vacuum cleaning being pushed around in the next room.

They had of course, moved away from Swanley and bought a house of their own. It was Diane who chose the new house, a neat little detached bungalow in cul-de-sac of similar properties. She chose the colour scheme and style of furnishings, in fact, Diane decided everything she and Gerry did.

Jess, Harry, Anna and Larry, all of them, been very kind to her whilst Gerry was in hospital but she could tell, not from their expressions but what they hid behind their eyes that every time they met her, their thoughts were on the evening Gerry had tried to introduce them to his game.

It was for the best Diane had decided that she and Gerry move away to somewhere, where nobody knew them. And Diane made sure, it stayed that way.

He was not the same man after he came home from the hospital. “The organic wires of his brain have probably suffered damage. He'll most likely be a completely different husband to you.” One of the doctors at the hospital had told her.

Her gratitude to the doctor's accurate prediction was limitless. The year since Gerry's stroke had been a year of peaceful normality.

But something was troubling her. Something she would have to deal with and very soon. Gerry had begun to show signs of recovery. True nothing significant but they were there, signs that the old Gerry might return.

She didn't want the old Gerry back, she liked this new version so much better than the one she had married. This version didn't hand out orders but obeyed hers instead. He did the cooking, cleaning, ironing and had no interest in sex, with her or anybody else.

Having Gerry back the way he used to be was unthinkable. Something would have to be done. She sipped thoughtfully at her gin and tonic, not tasting it, she watched the flickering images on the screen without seeing them and then had a very good idea.

A small matter to replace the medication that kept him from having another stroke with lookalike pills she assured herself.

She would keep a pair of his pajamas in a draw of the living room, after all, one never knew when they would be needed. Soon she suspected.

The End?

I hope you have enjoyed reading this novella. I kept the descriptions within the story short, as a long winded blog can be such a bore.

And as this blog is an open one and accessible to all age groups, I've not been as explicit as I am in my novel -

The Warlock's Woman, by Josephine Sanchez-Vanner, for sale on Amazon.

It's got wickedness, humor, sex, an intriguing story line with a twist at the end.

Many thanks for taking the time to read my blog.