37 comments/ 128863 views/ 37 favorites Choices - John and the Dragon By: The Wanderer There is no actual sex in this story. I thank my LadyCibelle and Techsan for their patience, proof reading, editing skills and of course encouragement they always give me. I also thank all of my friends, who write to encourage and help me to continue writing and posting, these demented ravings of mine. Your emails are always greatly appreciated. * How had I got myself into this situation, I was asking myself. Why me? What had I done to deserve this? Well, the answer was -- if I was being truthful with myself, that is -- that it wasn't what I had done; it was more a question of what I hadn't done. Sound confusing to you? Yeah, me, too, but now it was time for me to do something drastic, and bloody quickly as well, before things reached the point of no return. Let's go back a little and I'll try to explain what happened. What it had started with was a quick roll in the hay after both Veronica and I had drunk too much at a party one night. We were both eighteen at the time and at the beginning of the party we had both been virgins. The following morning neither of us were virgins anymore and Ronnie had an uninvited guest in her womb. Of course we didn't know that when we woke up in the same bed the next day. Ronnie and I -- when sober at least -- had never considered each other either attractive or had thoughts of dating each other. So a few choice words were exchanged between us and I made a hasty strategic withdrawal. Hey, don't get the idea that neither of us was attractive from what I've just said. But beauty, as they say, is in the eye of the beholder, and Veronica and I had never cast our eyes in each other's direction. You know, it's just how things go; Ronnie was just one of the girls who lived in our town and there were plenty of others who I had my eyes on. There was a reason for that though. Veronica and her friends were in a little clique who appeared to think that they were god's gift to the world. They walked around totally convinced that their shit didn't stink, and that every other youngster in town held what they said and did in awe. Me? Well, my friends and I had figured that chasing after the unobtainable was a complete waste of time long before, so Ronnie and her little crowd had never been added into the equation. Well, after that inexplicable night, it didn't take long for Ronnie to lose that quite shapely figure of hers. Funny how I only really noticed that figure of Veronica's after that unsightly bump appeared in her tummy. It wasn't very long before pointed questions were being asked. Unfortunately the finger of suspicion was soon pointing in my direction. Well, apparently Veronica - when she told her parents she was in the family way -- had informed them that I was the only possible candidate for the newly available position of expectant father. I'd have loved to have been a fly on the wall during that little exposé; I doubt that Veronica's parents ever figured me as a likely - or welcome - candidate for a son. I'm going to tell you now that the first that I actually knew of Ronnie's pregnancy was when I came home from work one evening to find my parents entertaining (if that's the right word) Veronica and her parents in our lounge. Then things really got entertaining (look, I can't help it if I've got a sick sense of humour) with Veronica's father threatening to ensure that if I didn't do right by his daughter, I'd be singing soprano, permanently. Now my mother was devastated by the news; but my father was of the old school and took it all in his stride. "You reap what you sow!" he used to say, and "You stand by your obligations like a man." The net result was your typical shotgun wedding, with me kind of roped in as an afterthought. Everything was sorted without any input from me at all: the wedding, the furnished rented cottage that we were going to live in. And the rules of engagement that we were going to live by after the wedding, as spelled out by Veronica. And possibly her mother, the Dragon! My sole contribution was to stand at the altar and say, "I do" when directed to do so. And then work my fucking fingers to the bone to keep "Veronica" in the style that she was accustomed. I say my fucking fingers, because that was the only fucking that I got anywhere near doing for a bleeding long time. God, there were only single beds in that bloody cottage. Whilst she was pregnant, Ronnie was - to put it mildly - one lazy cow. If I wanted to eat when I got home from work, then I cooked for myself. Ronnie would have been around her mother's house most of the day and she normally ate there. I assumed; you know, I never asked. I appeared to be responsible for keeping the house clean and tidy as well; Ronnie was always complaining that she was too ill or too tired. Yeah, as you can guess, I didn't figure that the marriage was going to last that long and I doubted that Ronnie did either. I thought that once the child had been born "in wedlock" then divorce wouldn't be long in coming onto the agenda. The sprog wouldn't be a bastard and I believed that's all that everyone was worrying about at the time. But then just as Veronica was nearing full term, things took an unexpected turn, and it snowed. Yeah, eight bleeding inches of the stuff falling during the night was to change just about everything. Ronnie's waters broke about five that morning, almost two weeks early; she yelled for me to call the ambulance and to be bloody quick about it. I picked up the telephone only to find that it was completely dead. The snow had brought the line down somewhere. The next nearest telephone was on the end of the road about half a mile away, so after climbing out of the window - there was a snowdrift up against the front door - I battled my way through the last of the blizzard to the phone box; only to find that telephone out of order as well. Now that left me with two options. Another almost mile walk through the snow to a neighbour's house, where I suspected their phone would be out as well. Or return to a very frightened Veronica and get out the "Home doctor" book that I'd remembered seeing on the bookshelf somewhere. I chose the latter option and, with the book in one hand, I became a very nervous apprentice midwife with the other. I might not have felt confident about what I was doing, but I knew I had to act as if I was, for Ronnie and the baby's sake. Look, guys, I'm sure that most of you have no idea what a breach baby is or how to deal with it. Well, neither did I until I read that bloody book that had the date 1905 printed inside the front cover. All right maybe I'm exaggerating a little bit there, but from what I could make of it the baby's head wasn't engaged and the little bugger didn't appear to me to be lined up properly according to the book. Was I glad that the guy who wrote the damned thing knew his stuff, and went into the fine details. Anyway after a bit of delicate pushing and shoving and a certain amount of cursing and swearing that I doubted Veronica's mother would have thought that her darling daughter would even know, let alone use, I suddenly found myself covered in stuff that I won't bother to describe here (some readers might have weak stomachs) and holding a darling little baby girl in my arms. Luckily the umbilical cord was just about long enough for me to place Megan in Ronnie's arms so that I could turn the page of the book, to see what I was supposed to do next. Great, those old medical books; they assume that you are going to have little at hand to complete the operation. Modern books tend to say, "Call in the experts NOW!" Ah, yeah, Megan! You noticed the name, did you? I thought you would. Not my choice I can assure you. I'd always been fascinated with the name "Otterley" and had wanted my first female child to bear that name. The Dragon, Veronica's mother, was called Megan though, so I'd been outvoted on that before we even knew the sex of the child. I'd just completed washing the baby and placed her back in her mother's arms when the two policemen climbed through the open front widow and came upstairs to see what the problem was. I'd paced out the word "HELP" in the snow in big letters, before I'd gone back into the cottage to assist Ronnie give birth, and an army helicopter-patrolling overhead had eventually spotted it. Before I knew what was happening a doctor had arrived in a second helicopter and they made arrangements for Ronnie and Megan to be flown to hospital. I was staying behind because there was no room in the machine for me. I'd passed Megan to one of the helicopter's crew and they were just about to load Ronnie's stretcher on board as well, when she asked them to stop. Ronnie gestured for me to come close; I actually thought she wanted to whisper something to me. As I bent down to hear what she was going to say, her arms snaked around me; then she pulled me down on top of her and clamped her lips on mine. The next thing I knew her tongue is halfway down my throat and I was about to pass out from lack of oxygen. God, Ronnie took me by surprise and what air that she hadn't managed to squeeze out of my lungs, she sucked out of them. You might not think that was an unusual thing for a loving wife to do. I don't think any of the guys who witnessed it thought it strange either. But I bleeding-well did. That was the first kiss I'd got out of Ronnie since she'd given a peck on the lips on our wedding day. "Thank you," and "I love you," she said as I staggered back from the stretcher. Within a matter of seconds the helicopter door slid closed and the machine was in the air. I went back into the house to repair the damage to Ronnie's bedroom. Yeah, you got it; I did say Veronica's bedroom. As usual around our way the snow didn't last very long. The following day, a lot of the snow had melted and I had managed to dig the car out. Getting to work for me was still out of the question though, but I thought I could make it to the hospital to visit my new baby girl. Oh, yeah, and Veronica, my wife; mind you, at that time the baby held more of a fascination for me than Ronnie ever did. The little show of affection she'd put on by the helicopter for the police and army guys, didn't fool me. When I entered the room the four proud grandparents were already there, fussing over the baby. It was obvious to me that I wasn't going to get a look in edgeways, although I was challenged as to why I hadn't shown my face the previous evening. Oh, and of course, I should have waited until the experts had arrived, and it was my fault that Veronica had ripped her birth canal during the birth, that had required several stitches. The Dragon never missed a chance to attack. Look, by then all this crap from her was going over my head. I just ignored it, most of the time. As I got closer to the bed, Ronnie held her hand out towards me. I don't know why I took hold of it; that's the sort of thing people who are in love do, and Ronnie and I weren't in that category. Ronnie's hand clamped onto mine and she pulled me towards her so forcefully that I almost fell onto the bed with her. Then her other hand was behind my head and she pulled our mouths together, trying to suffocate me again. I remember the thought, "I could get used to this!" passing through my mind, as Ronnie decided to let me breath again. "Isn't she beautiful? She has your nose!" Ronnie said, as I staggered to my feet, gasping for air. "I wouldn't know, Ronnie. I was a little busy yesterday running around like a blue arsed fly; everything is a bit on the hazy side," I replied. "Mother! Give Otterley to her father please and, dad, get your camera out again. I want some pictures of John holding her and of us together," Veronica ordered. But my mind didn't really hear the instructions that Ronnie had given her father. Going around in my mind was the question, "Did Veronica just call the baby Otterley?" The Dragon stuffed the baby into my arms. Yeah, I said stuffed! I don't think I could call it anything else; it was lucky that I never dropped the little tyke. But then again that could have been the bitch's intention, for all I know. I'm afraid that I really wasn't concentrating on what was going on for a little while, because I found myself inspecting the nametape wrapped around the Baby's little arm. "Otterley Christine Veronica Hope" had been squeezed on there in very tiny writing, for all the world to see. Otterley, the name I'd always wanted for my daughter, but that Ronnie had said "Over my dead body" to; Christine, my mother's name and by chance Ronnie's grandmothers name (I found out later that it was the Dragon's middle name as well); and of course Veronica after her mother. I looked over at Veronica and saw that she was sitting there smiling at me. She gestured towards her father who by then was snapping away like David Bailey. "Sit on the bed with Veronica, John," the old fart ordered, so I did as requested. We were then posed like loving parents normally are in those kinds of shots. Oh, I didn't say that Veronica's father was a professional photographer, did I? He was nothing special or anything, just portraits, weddings and the like. But he knows what he's doing and how to take a bleeding good picture, so you tend to do as you're told once he gets started. The little photo-shoot over, Veronica ordered the grandparents out of the room. Yeah, I did say ordered; I should have realised then just how much like her mother Veronica was going to turn out to be. "I want to speak to my husband in private for a little while," she said. With definite emphasis placed on the words "My Husband." I'd gotten off the bed again by this time and was sitting in a chair in the room with my daughter in my arms. "John, would you put Otterley in the cot and come and sit here please!" Ronnie asked in her most charming voice, once we were alone. Well, it wasn't often that Ronnie was that polite with me so I did as she requested. As I sat on the edge of the bed Ronnie reached out and pulled me closer, then laid her head against my chest. Then to my utter amazement she started crying. Now look, actually I was quite ready for this. Besides that home doctor book we had at home, I'd done a lot of reading about women having babies and the aftermath. I knew all about how some of them get Postnatal or was it Prenatal Depression; I was buggered if I could remember at the time. Anyway I'd read a lot about what can happen around the time of a birth and I was quite prepared for unexplained tears and or tantrums. Suddenly I realised that Ronnie was talking, although very softly. "I'm sorry I was such a pig to you. It wasn't your fault. I could have said no any time I wanted to. But to be honest, I didn't want to say no." "Ronnie, what are you talking about?" I asked. She suddenly sat up and looked straight into my eyes "Otterley," she replied. "I've been blaming you for making me pregnant. But that was silly; I wanted to do it that night just as much as you did. My problem was I couldn't understand why. But the other day after my waters broke, I sudden realised why. John, none of the other boys that I've known could have done what you did yesterday. You were so calm, so in control and knew exactly what to do." "I was terrified that Otterley and I were going to die and you... well, you were just John, doing what had to be done and making me feel safe," she said. "I might have looked all nice and calm, Veronica, but I was bloody shitting myself most of the time," I explained. She smiled at me again then kissed me on the lips again. Gently this time though. "I love you, John!" she said as she broke the kiss. "And I'm going to fuck your brains out when I've healed up, down there. I'm sorry but the doctor said it would be a few weeks before we can do it again." "Veronica, look, please don't talk like that. I know that when you've just given birth your hormones and things are all out of kilter. You are going to be all-emotional for some time until things settle down again. Let's see how you feel in a few weeks, shall we?" "No. John, I'm completely in control of my emotions and I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm going to be the best wife I can be to you from now on," she blurted out. Yeah and I believed that? But from my reading, I'd figured that I wouldn't get much sense out of Veronica for sometime to come. Or until her system got back to where it should be. I thought it best to change the subject, before Veronica made any more promises that she wouldn't be keeping. Think about it? "Love, honour and obey." Yeah, I'd seen sweet FA of any of them in the proceeding months. "You changed the baby's name to Otterley?" I asked, seeking to change the topic of conversation. "Yes, of course, that's the name you wanted to call her, wasn't it? "Yeah, but you said you hated it." "I was being a bitch, John, and I'm sorry. I always liked the name from the moment you first suggested it. But I was still blaming you for everything that had happened." Before Veronica could say anymore a doctor and two nurses entered the room. I think I'd previously heard one of the nurses sending the grandparents off to the waiting room, but I'm not sure. "Ah, you must be the husband who had to deliver his own child," the doctor said as he came in the door. "From what your wife tells us you made a sterling job of it." "Thanks, doc, but I only read it out of a book as I went along," I replied, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Sounds to me like we could do with a couple of copies of that book in here. It didn't tell you how to put stitches in though?" "Well, it did doc, but I wasn't that brave and chickened out." "Never mind. You did a fine job under the circumstances. Anyway if you can excuse us for a little while, I need to check on my handy work," he said. So I gave Ronnie a quick kiss and left the room, actually following one of the nurses who was taking Otterley to give her a bath and change. This I thought would be fun so I asked the nurse if I could help. She grinned and said, "it is technically against the rules, but who gives a shit about rules; you're the guy who delivered his own breach." Helping bathe and change Otterley had the other advantage of keeping me well away from thes, something I preferred to do whenever possible. They were back in with Veronica when the nurse and I took Otterley back into the room. My folks said good-bye and left almost immediately and Veronica's folks left shortly after. Ronnie fed Otterley and I sat and cuddled the baby until well after they had both fallen asleep. Then after talking to the same nurse again, I put Otterley down for the night and went home. That nurse was a nice girl; I'd made a mental note of her name. Yeah, I was quite convinced that Veronica's sudden affection for me was a hormone thing and not heart based. I figured I'd be back in the female market before very much longer. Word had obviously got around about Otterley's birth, because when I stopped off on my way home at the local pub to get something to eat, everyone decided the baby's head needed a good and thorough wetting. I got completely rat-arsed and finished up sleeping at a friend's house that night, and for the next few nights as well; I couldn't see much point in driving out to that lonely cottage to be on my own. It was nearly a week before they let Ronnie bring Otterley home. All the time she'd been in hospital she'd kept up the lovey-dovey front. So I'd played along with her, up to a point. To be honest I was expecting her to turn any day and I didn't want to be wrong footed by her. That first night at home Ronnie insisted that I used the other bed in her room. Some crap about being afraid that she wouldn't wake up if Otterley cried, she claimed. Choices - John and the Dragon On her second day back home, Ronnie took me by surprise yet again. I entered the house to the smell of steak frying. "I got you a nice steak from the butcher today, John. It is medium rare that you like it, isn't it? Ronnie said. It went on like that for the next week or so. I got home from work every night and Ronnie was cooking a dinner for me of some kind. Well, if she wanted to cook, who was I to object? At the end of the second week that Ronnie had been out of hospital, I came home from work and when I opened the garage door I found that I couldn't get my car inside. There were a couple of beds stacked up against the wall. "What's that junk in the garage?" I asked Ronnie when I went inside the house. "The old beds from our room. I've brought one of those king-size ones for us. They delivered it today." Yeah, that's what she said, "Our room" and "king-size bed for us." "Something definitely smells in the State of Denmark," I thought to myself. Well, can I help it if I'm a bloody pessimist? I really wasn't sure what game Ronnie was playing by then, but I figured the bitch was setting me up for a fall. We ate dinner, then Veronica fed Otterley again and put her down for the night, or until she decided she wanted to chew on mummy's nipples again. Actually I was beginning to get quite jealous of little Otterley; those tits of Ronnie's had swollen some, what with all the milk they were producing and looked even more tasty that they had done the one and only time I'd managed to get my lips on them. After Veronica had put Otterley down for the night, she didn't come back downstairs like she normally did. I was sitting there watching the news when I heard Ronnie call out to me. This wasn't an unusual thing, so without answering I looked for what she'd forgotten; you know, Otterley's changing bag and the like. Picking up a spare nappy or two I headed for the bedroom, where I found Ronnie lying on the new bed waiting for me. No, for some reason I hadn't been up to the room to look at the massive bed Ronnie had purchased. I'd figured that she'd ordered a king-size one, so she had more room to stay away from me in it. The sight before my eyes when I entered the room was interesting if not particularly sexy. Veronica was draped on the bed seductively -- I suppose - dressed in nothing but a pair of briefs and her nursing bra. "Sorry about this damned bra but these things have got so heavy I have to keep them under control somehow. Anyway I thought you might like an early night," she said smiling at me. I'm not sure what I said, something like, "Oh! Ah! Um!" I should imagine. I think I was in shock; Veronica was inviting me to get into the same bed as her. "I'm sorry but the doctor said that we shouldn't do 'it' yet. But we could just cuddle up together," Ronnie said pensively and reached out her hand towards me much as she had done at the hospital two weeks before. For a moment I didn't move, then I saw Ronnie's facial expression begin to change to one of sadness and a tear formed in the corner of her eye. "You don't want me because I'm all fat and ugly." She began to wail and that kick-started my brain, back into action. "It's nothing of the sort, Ronnie; you just took me by surprise, that's all. Come on, you have hardly wanted me in the same room as you since we... well, since we conceived Otterley," I said, climbing on the bed and taking her in my arms. "I told you I was all mixed up, John. I didn't expect to fall pregnant the first time I ever had sex. All my friends were saying that they had sex all the time and none of them ever got pregnant. You know, I think I knew that Otterley was on the way when we woke up together in that bed." She stopped speaking long enough to let out a couple of pitiful sobs. "I was angry with you because we hadn't taken any precautions. Don't ask me why; it was up to me as well as you." "Christ. Ronnie, I thought that you were annoyed that it was me you'd gone to bed with. I've always believed that you were so drunk that you thought you were with Billy." "What, Billy Troon? You must be joking. Any girl would have to be off her head to get into bed with that idiot." "But he was your boyfriend at the time!" I reminded her. "Like bloody hell, he was!" Ronnie almost screamed at me. I thought she might have woken Otterley. Veronica suddenly jumped up and sat on her knees looking down at me, lying on the bed. "John, Billy Troon is a stuck-up little prick. He thinks his parents' money will buy him anything he wants, and that includes most of the girls in town as well. Do you know he's got a little book that he keeps details of all his conquests in. The dumb shit showed it to me once. Did the idiot think that I wouldn't realise what a little sketch of a cherry beside any particular girl's name meant?" "No, John; once Billy Troon goes to bed with a girl she's history and has a reputation to match. I just strung the bugger along for a while. You know it was handy having that car of his mum's to run the girls and I around. But rest assured Billy Troon was never going to be my first." Ronnie sat there looking down at me; I believe she expected me to say something. I'm not sure but I think the best I could muster was another round of "Oh Um Ah's." Or something like it. "Johnny, I sought you out at the party that night. I was drunk or I'd never have had the guts to do it. But it was you that I always wanted; when I saw you there that night, I had every intention of sleeping with you." I think this time I managed to fit a few "But, buts" in, but I won't swear to it. "I'm sorry, John, but to be honest the first two times weren't anything to write home about. Silly really; why I'd thought that you'd be an experienced lover I don't know. But I think I was a little disappointed with the result. But the third time we did it that night, was really something; I'm sure that was the time we made Otterley. But then you fell asleep and when we woke up I realised that we hadn't taken any precautions. "Then you got up and left and you never called me again. I was pretty devastated about that, I'd been having all these dreams about Johnny Hope being my boyfriend and you never called once." Now I got my tongue back. "Veronica, as I remember that morning, you... you told me to fuck-off, in no uncertain terms. I just got the hell out of there and kept my bloody head down." Now it was Ronnie's turn to look pensive again. "Yeah, I know I did. I was a bloody stupid bitch that morning, and I'm sorry. But having sex for the first time is a big step. And when I woke up, somehow I knew that I was pregnant. It was me who seduced you that night, John, not the other way around. It was me who should have thought about contraceptives, but it was easier for me to blame you. I'm sorry I can get quite stupid when I'm emotional. Are you going to forgive me?" "I don't know. What about how you've been treating me since? You haven't been the nicest person to live with, you know." "I know, it was just... oh, I don't know, I got the idea that you didn't want us to be married and were only here with me because of that 'duty thing' that your father keeps going on about." "But when I was screaming obscenities at you the other day, I could see the man that I loved every time I managed to look down between my legs. I saw the love in your eyes when you washed Otterley and you still had that look for me afterwards. I'm mad about you, John. Please, god, be as mad about me as well." You know, that's when I realised what I hadn't done! I hadn't admitted to myself that I was. Mad about Veronica, that is! Somehow I'd fallen head over heels in love with the girl. And guess what, twenty years and another three children later we've haven't looked back since. Ah, well, that isn't exactly true; all marriages have a couple of blips in them now and again, but nothing that you'd call drastic. And for whenever Veronica forgets herself and starts to behave like her mother, we have a safe word. All I have to say is "Dragon" and Veronica will stop speaking, come into my arms and try out her suffocation technique on me again. It seems to end most of our disagreements. Life goes on.