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Amnesia Ch. 01

By: SylviaG



Thank you for your Emails, stories, and kind offers. Happy Christmas.

.......................................

I followed him slowly into the house. My arms were folded underneath my breasts. I was sort of hugging myself in a defensive manner. I followed him into the lounge as I heard the taxi drive off. He turned and gave me a strange little smile. I didn't smile back I just watched his features. I hugged myself a little tighter and looked around the room. A single tear rolled down my face. Everything in the room was alien to me. Even the man I stood with. He had said he was my husband. I had seen the marriage certificate, so I have to believe him. I mean, I have amnesia, so I have to trust my husband, don't I?

I followed him up the stairs and into the bedroom. He opened the wardrobe and I gazed at the clothing. 

"I'll make you a cup of tea," he said with a smile.

I felt his hand on my shoulder and I flinched, grabbing my ribcage even tighter, and then I twisted away. I spent several minutes looking at the clothing. Tight tops, short skirts, and skimpy dresses hung on the rail. I couldn't remember wearing any of these things; then again I couldn't remember anything, apart from the last couple of weeks in hospital.

"Christine, your tea is ready," he called.

I didn't answer him, my own husband and I didn't know him.

I watched him from the doorway as he put the tea down on the coffee table. I still had my arms folded rubbing my thumb over my ribs. 

"Those clothes are a little..." 

"That was how you dressed they are all your clothes. You loved showing your body off."

He looked away almost embarrassed by his words, or was it the way I closed my eyes at what he said.

"How come I've got clothes if our house was burnt to the ground?"

"We were going on holiday. The clothes were in our car that is all we have."

"And this house, do, do we rent it or?"

"It belongs to the company; we can stay here as long as we need to, until the insurance pay out."

I picked up the cup of tea. I blew it a little and then looked at him as he offered me a cigarette. I just stared at the orange filter.

"Do I smoke?" I asked faintly.

He nodded and smiled.

I sat at the table pushing my food around the plate. Harry my husband was shovelling his food in his mouth like he hadn't eaten for a week. I just watched this man, my husband. He obviously loved his food.

"Do you have to eat like that?"

He stopped halfway through chewing. 

When we went to bed I made him turn the light out before I undressed. I slipped into bed with my back to him. 

"Did you take the pills?"

I felt his hand on my shoulder, it scared me. I was frightened of the man I had married.

"Yes. Please don't touch me," I mumbled.

I waited, finally he removed his hand and turned over and went to sleep.

"You snore," I mumbled at the breakfast table. 

He chuckled.

"When is my mother coming?"

"Next week. Look don't expect too much from her. You haven't spoken to each other for a couple of years."

The next week carried on much the same. The doctor came to visit and top up my pills, blue pills, orange pills, and those awful tasting pink ones. I had spent all week in my dressing gown. Several times I went to get dressed, but I just didn't see the point. We lived out in the country, 2 miles from the nearest village, what was the point in getting dressed if I had to stay at home all day?

I woke in the night and rolled over. My husband wasn't there, not that I was worried about that. Still I was curious, where was he at 3 am? I pulled my dressing gown around my body. Christ my tits were big!

I stopped at the full length mirror. So there I was a married woman. 5'8" tall, green eyes, blonde hair, a dress size 10 with D-cup breasts! I could see that for myself. But that was all I knew to be true. OK I was 28, but I had to see my birth certificate, or rather a copy of it. Then again was I really Christine Hills, or rather Trent, my husband's name.

I heard him grunt and I went silently out onto the landing. I saw the bathroom door open slightly about 3 inches. His shorts lay crumpled round his ankles. I could see his hand jerking quickly. I covered my mouth at first disgusted, but then I smiled a little. The poor bastard had wife, a blonde wife, with big tits sleeping next to him, and there he was pulling himself off in the bathroom like a bloody teenager.

When he came back into the bedroom he was a little shocked to see me sitting up.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" I said, trying not to smirk at his embarrassment.

Then I saw the crumpled panties in his hand, my crumpled panties the green panties I had worn that day!

"Go and sleep on the couch you fucking pervert!" I screeched.

He did.

"Have you taken that new pill yet?"

"Yeah," I answered, "although I don't know why the doctor has given me them."

"They will help, you must take them."

There he was thinking of me again, and after what happened last night.

"I'm sorry about last night," I mumbled, "I know I'm the one with amnesia but this must be just as hard for you. I mean having a wife that cringes every time you go near her."

I felt sorry for him, for the first time. He had told me everything I had asked, and believe me I asked thousands of questions. He just gave me the answers as I tried to piece things together. But I couldn't remember a thing. My thoughts made my eyes water. I looked at him again. I wanted to throw him a bone, something to give him a little hope. He had been so patient with me, and all I could do was mock him for playing with himself!

"Look, Harry, I don't mind helping you out, but I don't want to, well have sex with you, not yet anyway." 

The doctor had told me that resuming a sex life with my husband was going to be difficult. He had suggested just talking, and then maybe touching, until I was ready. The only thing was I didn't fancy Harry! I certainly wouldn't have given him a second look if we passed in the street. I had to find out what attracted me to him in the first place, but how the hell could I if my mind was a complete blank!

I put my hand on his shoulder.

"You love me so much don't you? All I can do is bitch about not being able to remember."

I took a big gulp. I had this thought in my head. I wanted to please him, just to make him happy. I had to fight my reluctance, this was my husband and he made me cringe!

"You said I wanted a boob job, you said I kept on about it and you gave in, when was that?"

"Nearly a week before the fire," he mumbled, "you like men looking at you Christine, you, well you always used to."

"I guessed something like that from the clothes in my wardrobe. I know they are mine but maybe that bump on the head has changed me. I mean don't you mind that I probably look like a complete tart?"

I saw a slightly lustful look in his eyes, a look that he tried to hide. I glanced down at his shorts. He was hard just because of what I said. God, did I really have this sort of power over my own husband?

I gulped again, "why don't you get, get it out. Play with it."

I watched his fumbling fingers pull his shorts down a little. He looked and acted eager, I suppose the poor guy had been so frustrated over the last few weeks. His eyes were full of lust and he was panting.

"Would you like to see what you paid for? Do you want to see your wife's big tits?"

I opened my dressing gown as he sat there unable to speak. I let it slip off my shoulders, and then I slipped the thin red straps of my nightdress down my arms. He just stood gazing at me, like it was the first time he had seen my body. 

"Oh fucking hell!" he gasped.

I watched as his hand pulled on his cock. I didn't want this going any further but I just had this strange feeling. I moved forward. My mouth hung open, and I panted slightly. 

"Look how big they are, and they don't sag," I breathed.

I started massaging my left breast. My fingers rubbed over my nipples. They were really hard like bullets. I noticed in hospital how they always seemed to be erect, even though I wasn't turned on! I felt it catch on my fingers and then it sprang free. I just seemed to ache right behind each nipple. God they felt so sensitive. 

Harry's eyes just remained glued to them. He was like a kid in a sweet shop!

I brought both hands up slowly, cupping the underside of each breast. I pushed them up and together, until I had a cleavage so tight you couldn't pour water through it. 

"Go on spurt, look at them, look how fucking enormous they are!" I hissed.

He panted and gasped, and I found myself liking the way he looked a little unsure.

"Go on shoot, look at my huge tits and shoot!" I snarled.

His face was bright red and sweat trickled down his cheek. I saw a white glob appear; it caught in his fingers at the tip of his cock. I pulled my nightdress back up and hurried out of the room. For some reason I was regretting my actions, things just didn't make sense. Why was I so mixed up? Why does my husband make me cringe, and why did I just tease him if I felt this way? Why couldn't I remember any fucking thing! 

I sat on the bed in my dressing gown for ages, just trying to remember my life before the fire. I couldn't even remember the fire, nothing, apart from waking up in hospital with Harry looking down on me. I screamed as he kissed my brow, I remember that.

He could have been a cleaner for all I knew! I pushed him away as the doctor came in. The doctor called 'Christine' 3 times, until I realised he was talking to me! As the days past in hospital Harry would sit and tell me about the fire, in between tests and being probed and prodded like something from outer space! He brought in a copy of my birth certificate, and then our marriage certificate, I still didn't remember.

I felt wet lips on my neck. I winced and pulled away.

"Don't, please don't touch me," I moaned, as I shuffled along the bed.

He looked a little disappointed. I suppose after what I had done ½ an hour ago he was confused too!

I went for a bath wondering what the hell would happen to me. Amnesia, such a pretty sounding word, it could almost be the name you would give a sweet little girl. But it was a word I was fighting with everyday; just what it meant filled me with dread.

So there I was the day my mother came to see me. I stood looking at myself in the mirror. I wore a black skirt that just made it to mid thigh. I had a red top on that just managed to contain my boobs, and several inches of deep cleavage. God! Black diamond patterned tights. I felt uncomfortable dressed like a bloody tart, but all my clothes were the same. It was like I was going to a fancy dress party as some whore!

But the shoes in the bottom of the wardrobe made me wince. 7 pairs of shoes with heels no lower than 4 inches! I needed new clothes, god I needed a skirt that I wasn't constantly worried in case my ass was on show! And how the fuck could I walk down the street with two huge melons bouncing around!

"She's here," he said with a gulp, as his eyes rolled over my body.

I pushed past him, almost knocking him out of the way, and I raced down the stairs. There she was standing in the lounge, my mum, I think?

We just stared at each other. I had images of a warm smiling face. Maybe she would rush to me and give me a big hug that would ease my mind. I didn't expect her to have badly dyed hair, and a fag sticking out of her gob, and covered in a fake leopard print coat. 

"Well lost your memory I hear, still look at it as a god send in your case," she said with a smirk.

My heart had fallen into my stomach. I just watched the cigarette end wobble in her mouth with every word. How the inch of ash didn't fall off amazed me. I watched her suck on it. Bright red garish lipstick coated the filter. She sucked on the fag and let the smoke roll out of her nostrils.

"So, what do you want to hear, what a wonderful daughter you were?"

Again the fag end moved almost glued to her lips. I watched the ash drop to the carpet, taking my hopes with it.

"What do you mean? I, I don't know what you mean."

"Christine you and I, well, we never saw eye to eye. You blamed me when dad walked out, your dad."

My eyes shot to Harry.

"You said he died two years ago."

"He did," my mother said, and then coughed, "look you have a chance with Harry, don't make a mistake, trust him. He is your husband."

I felt Harry's hand push into mine and I squeezed it tight.

She stayed for tea and we talked. Whatever we had fallen out over, my father I think mainly. She didn't push it. She had softened slightly telling me of my childhood. My new bike, ballet classes when I was young, everything you would expect to hear. 

I suppose at least we were now talking to each other. When she left I saw Harry give her what looked like a roll of money, but why?

A few days later I started to settle down. But I had still countless questions that I needed answers to. Harry's face dropped a little when I asked him when I could see my friends.

A visit from the doctor a few days later helped. The doctor told me to keep on with the pills, they seemed to relax me. Again I had asked to see my friends, and the doctor said that Harry should let me. For some reason Harry didn't seem keen, but I had plans to persuade him. Perhaps after my mother he was a little scared that I was going too fast. I found myself sort of teasing Harry a little. I left my bra on his side of the bed when I had a bath. I smiled when I saw it had been moved a little. 

I suppose I was now getting used to having a husband. He had been so very understanding and tolerant, he needed a treat.

I stood in my bath towel as he sat reading in bed. I just let it slip from my body. He looked up a little shocked at first, but that lustful look soon entered his eyes.

"Did you touch my bra Harry?" I asked softly.

His eyes quickly moved from gazing at my pussy. I slipped into bed and made sure the defensive wall pillows between us were there. I turned on my side facing him. 

"Did you take your pills?" he asked.

"Did you touch my bra?" I asked again, ignoring his question.

He gave me the faintest nod. I brushed my hand across his cheek and he kissed my palm. I pulled the pillows out from between us. I had told him I didn't want him touching me, not yet anyway. His eyes dropped to my breasts. Again, he seemed a little scared of me for some reason. I suppose he just didn't know if I would snap like I did in hospital. I remembered that day, I was taking a shower and he just walked in the room. Perfectly natural for a husband to do, but I had screeched at him and covered my body, even though he couldn't see me through the shower curtain. 

"Why do my nipples always seem to be erect?"

I watched him gulp and his eyes dropped to them. I was sure he was fighting some urge to grab himself.

"They always did stick out. They always looked sexy."

I watched his hand slowly move towards them. He glanced quickly at me, maybe waiting for me to jerk away. I didn't, I closed my eyes as his fingers grazed the tip of my right nipple. I could feel movement further down the bed, short, and slow.

"I don't want you shooting spunk in the sheets."

He looked at me not sure what to do. He looked so strange, he looked so intense. 

I held up my bra and trailed it slowly over his face. I just watched him jump slightly as he tugged on my nipple a little harder. I grinned at him, it wasn't a reassuring grin it was more of an amused grin, at his reaction. 

"Use it, do it in my bra cup," I whispered.

He grabbed it with the trembling hand that had pulled on my nipple. I just watched his face as he panted. 

"Does it turn you on, having my lacy bra on your dick?" I asked with a slightly amused grin.

He grunted and shot his load seconds later.

I turned over as he got out of bed. 

"Don't put it in the washing basket, put it in the bin." 

He moved away from the washing basket and went down the stairs.

It took me awhile to get to sleep like it always did. Harry seemed content snoring away. I suppose I was a little frustrated like my husband, because for the last few nights I had thoughts and dreams of a sexual nature. 

Sometime in the night when I opened my eyes my left nipple felt wet, and I could still feel my finger between my legs. I flexed my pussy on the finger. I went to a sleep for a few moments, and then I think I forced myself awake. I looked down at Harry who just turned over in his sleep. I was shaking like a leaf. I could see moisture on his finger, moisture from my pussy! I looked at the sheets where I had been just seconds ago. There was a wet patch that had come from between my legs. I wrapped my arms around my body again hugging myself. I went to the bathroom and just stared the woman looking back from the mirror. I didn't know myself, I had to find out more, and I had to find a way of getting my memory back. I closed my eyes and shuddered. I also had to stop my juices trickling down my thighs.

I watched Harry at breakfast. He showed no sign of guilt for touching me up while I was asleep. Maybe he didn't know, maybe he did it in his sleep. I decided not to mention it. After all, today he was taking me to our old house, or rather the burnt out remains. Then we were going to see one of my friends. Away he couldn't stop me from seeing them, even though I knew he wanted to. I would have gone behind his back anyway, but I didn't have a clue where they lived.

I stared out of the car window in total shock. Not because of the burnt out shell, because the house had been a bloody big one! I expected a semi detached at best, but what I could see was the remains of a very big house.

"How much was it worth?"

"£650,000, maybe 750,000."

I looked down at my trembling fingers. I so desperately wanted an answer to a question I couldn't ask my husband. I needed to meet my friend, a very close friend. I needed to speak to her on her own. 

There she was as arranged, on the pavement in a deserted part of town. Again I didn't recognise her. She stood with her hands forced into her coat pockets, and her lips pushed down in her coat collar fighting the cold icy wind. Harry stood by the car as I walked over the road. 

"My god you've got a nerve, I can't believe I've agreed to this. Jessica will go ape shit if she even thought I was meeting you."

"Who is Jessica?"

"My god you really have lost your memory. Jessica was your best friend, until you ran off with her husband 18 months ago."

I shook my head feeling my stomach jump.

"But I've been married to Harry..."

"That never stopped you coming on to all our husbands did it you slut!"

I grabbed her arm as she went to turn away. I knew I was going to get nowhere with her, but I had to ask the question I had thought of in the car.

"Do I love Harry?"

She laughed throwing her head back, "you love his wallet!"

She shrugged her arm out of my hand.

"Look, don't come back here. You deserve the mess you are in. Jessica is divorced now, but Ben and I managed to patch things up. Oh I made him grovel for going behind my back with the town whore! Maybe the next time I see you it will be as we lower your box into the ground."

"Please, I'm sorry. I don't remember anything."

"You always did walk through shit and smell of roses. God you've even had a bloody tit job. Don't come back here, for your own good."

I stood there as she hurried away. I waited until she turned the corner then I let the tears flow. 

I clung to Harry as he took me back to the car. 

"Maybe you should have left me in hospital," I sobbed.

"No honey, I'll never let you go now. You are my wife and you are going to start acting like it. I've put up with shit from you all our married life, now you are going to buckle down and make me happy. I'm never letting you go, you belong to me now."


Amnesia Ch. 01



As always, my thanks to Erik Thread for his insightful and effective editing. If there are errors, they are mine. This is the first of a seven part, nine chapter story. I will be posting daily.

*

"Good morning," the nurse trilled brightly. The sun streamed through the window as she parted the curtains. "It's another lovely day."

"Mornin'," he answered listlessly.

"How do you feel this morning?"

"Same as yesterday and the day before. Shit!" 

"Now then, Mr. Doe, we can't have you talking like that. Besides, you're still alive and not too badly off, all things considered," she said in a semi-serious tone.

"You mean not too badly off for someone who doesn't know who he is or where he's from. I take it no one has come looking for me yet." 

"Not that I know of. But cheer up ... it's only been a couple of weeks since your accident. Something ... or someone will turn up. You wait and see," she smiled.

"And if they don't?"

"I don't know. I've never had a patient like you before. There's always been somebody who knew who the patient was. This is a first for me."

"It's a first for me too, I'll bet," he mumbled.

"In the meantime, your leg is healing nicely and the stitches in your arm and head look fine. You'll be fit to travel soon. All you need is a destination," she offered idly.

"Didn't you tell me the police wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes ... do you want me to let them know you are ready? I'll have to get Doctor Leacock's OK first."

"Fine. Let's get this damn show on the road." His tone was angry. 

The nurse frowned at him briefly, then walked swiftly from his room. 

The policeman didn't show up until after four that afternoon. He strolled into John Doe's room and pulled out his I.D.

"I'm Detective Sergeant Polikoff, Mr. Doe. You up to answering questions?" 

"Well, there won't be many answers," the bed-bound man snorted.

"Doc says you don't remember anything."

"Not a fucking thing," he spat.

"Hummphf. Take it you're not a college professor or a preacher."

"What makes you say that?"

"Language."

"College professors never swear?"

"Beats me. Doubt they sound like you, though," the detective paused, looking over the man in the bed. 

"No one's come lookin' for you, if that's what you're wondering."

"How the hell can that be? People don't just drop off the face of the earth and no one notices," the man said, his anger beginning to resurface. 

"Yeah ... they do. Not often ... but it happens."

"Great ... lost in fuckin' space. I don't suppose I'm at the top of your list of things to do, am I?"

"Not exactly. You couldn't guess the number of missing persons files there are. I gotta admit, we spend most of our time on the kids. That's what the public expects.

"As far as you're concerned, we've got nothin' to go on so far. Found you lyin' by the road down near the river. Haven't figured out what happened to you. Hit by a car, beat up, can't tell yet. No wallet, no money, not even a receipt or a piece of paper on you. Your clothes are everyday stuff from Wal-Mart or J.C. Penney. You don't have any old scars or tattoos or anything that would give us a lead. Nope, not much to go on," he finished with a shrug.

The injured man held up his hand, indicating a wedding ring.

"Can you have someone look at this ... maybe trace it?"

"I can try," the detective said, holding his hand out as the man removed the ring from his finger. He examined it carefully.

"I don't think this is going to tell us much," he said. "No jewelers mark or inscription. I'm guessing it was just a generic ring purchased at a chain jewelry story."

"Great. So what happens now? They'll kick me out of here at some point. I can't pay the bill, I don't have any I.D., can't get a job. Don't even know what I can do beside sweep floors or dig ditches," he said, closing his eyes and allowing his head to drop back on the pillow. "What about fingerprints?"

"Nope. Nothing. So far as we can tell, you aren't a wanted person and you don't have a record. That's got to be good news, I suppose."

"You think? Maybe if I did, I'd know who the hell I was. It would at least be something. Shit ... I don't have a fuckin' clue on what to do next," he said in resignation.

"There's a couple of halfway houses nearby. A bed for the night and a couple of meals. At least until you can find some work."

"Doing what? Using what for a name? What's the point of these people fixing me up so I can wander out the door and join the homeless, living in some cardboard shack? What kind of fuckin' life is that? What's the bloody point?" he raged.

"Calm down, mister. We're circulating your picture to other police departments. We're also trying to get you some publicity ... someone might recognize you. We'll do what we can," Polikoff said in a tone suggesting he didn't really hold out much hope.

The man closed his eyes and sighed. 

-0-

The man knocked on the door of Major Thomas Matthews and received a polite, "Come in please," in response. The Major was rising from his desk in the back of the Salvation Army Thrift Shop. The office was part of the Family Services section. 

The door opened and the tall, forty-something man stepped in, closing it behind him. Tom Matthews surveyed him. He looked to be in his forties. An unremarkable face with narrow, prominent long nose, thin dark eyebrows, hazel eyes, square jaw, medium complexion, neatly cut hair graying at the temples, tall with a slim build. He was clean shaven, bandaged along the side of his head, and wearing clean but worn clothes. 

"Good morning. I'm John Doe," the man said politely. "Detective Polikoff suggested I see you," he said, glancing about the small office.

"Yes ... Martin called me and asked me if I could help. Won't you sit down, please?"

The man sat in the wooden chair across the desk from the Major.

"I understand you've lost your memory and that you don't have any idea of who you are or where you're from."

"That's it in a nutshell, Major."

"Call me Tom, John. We're pretty informal around here."

The man nodded, wincing slightly.

"You still have some pains?"

"Yeah ... and headaches. They're gettin' better, but slowly."

"Well, I can offer you a place to stay for a few nights with breakfast and supper. I can point you in the direction of some work ... if you're up to it."

"Thanks. I need something to survive on. I can't live on the street. I wouldn't know how."

"Well, you appear to be educated, but I don't suppose you know what at, do you?"

"No clue. I'm hopin' my memory will come back over time. If it doesn't, I'm up sh... up the creek." 

"Don't give up hope, John. We're here to help." The Major pushed a piece of notepaper across the desk to the man. "Here are some people who hire for cash. Usually day jobs, but they're legal and they won't cheat you. I suggest you go see them this afternoon just to get your face in front of them."

The man nodded, again wincing slightly.

"I'll show you where you can sleep and where the bathroom is. Do you have any toiletries?"

"No ... not a thing."

"OK ... we have some. I can get you some soap, razors, toothbrush and toothpaste. The towels are in the bathroom. It gets pretty busy early in the morning, so some of the men shave and shower in the evening, just to avoid the rush. You might try that.

"Thanks. I hope I'm not here for long ... but ... thanks."

"You're welcome. Come and see me anytime if you need help," Matthews stood, extending his hand. 

John Doe closed the door behind him as he exited the office and allowed his breath to escape. He now had place to sleep, to eat, and some leads for work. 

He took the Major's advice. With a borrowed city map he walked to the three locations noted on the paper. Asking for the contact man, he introduced himself, explained his situation and then moved on the next place. The work was mostly menial tasks; moving boxes, cleaning toilets, sweeping floors. The duration was usually only a day or two. 

Sometimes, when you least expect it, you stumble into some good luck. John Doe found that good luck on the third day of his search. One of the Major's references steered him to a Chinese restaurant nearby that was in need of a dishwasher. The pay was low, but it was something. He explained his circumstances to the owner, an Asian man with limited English. The man pointed to an older woman in the kitchen and indicated John should talk to her.

"Hi. I think the boss wants me to talk to you," he said. "I'm John Doe."

"Yeah ... I heard. Tough deal, huh?" 

John shrugged. "What do I need to know?" 

"Well ... first off, I'm Muriel. I kind of act as chief cook and translator for Mr. Leung. He's not a bad guy," she said, looking over at the busy owner.

"You're a cook ... in a Chinese restaurant?" he said, barely able to contain a chuckle.

"Yeah ... not what you'd call typical, huh?"

"How many days?"

"You mean for this job?"

"Yeah."

"Long as you like. The last guy disappeared a couple of days ago. Drank himself out of job, I guess."

"What are the hours?"

She laughed. "How long can you stay? This place opens at eleven in the morning and closes at one in the morning. You get fifty bucks a day. Most people show up early afternoon, take a break before six and after eight and then finish up about two in the morning. No shortage of hours, son," she said with a smile. "It's a six day job if you can hack it. We're closed on Mondays."

"Can you show me what needs to be done?"

"Sure. There's a rubber apron, some rubber gloves and a hair net. You'll need them. Detergent's in the big jug. Wash in one sink and rinse in the other. Don't use the same water for more than twenty minutes or for more than one job. Do the glasses first, big plates second, utensils and other china third, pots and pans last. Got it?"

"Yeah. Pretty straightforward. How often does the boss pay?"

"Once a week ... Sunday night. You'll get cash, so be careful. You'll need a place to keep it safe. Where you livin'?"

"Salvation Army. Gotta find a place though. It isn't permanent."

"OK. You got any other questions?"

"Nope."

"Then you can get started," she smiled.

He started on Wednesday afternoon and by Friday, he was coping. It didn't require a lot of thinking or heavy lifting, just developing a method and sticking to it. Muriel nodded her approval at his work and gave him a pat on the back and a smile. 

When Mr. Leung paid John on Sunday night, he counted out $250, handed it to John and smiled. Apparently, he too was happy with John's work. He had already discussed putting some money in the safe at the Salvation Army office with Major Matthews. Without identification, John couldn't open a bank account.

Monday was his day off and John spent most of it looking for a place to live. His calculations told him that earning only $300 per week he couldn't afford any more than $150 a week for rent and even then he was stretching it. He could eat for free at the restaurant, but as much as he enjoyed Chinese food, there was a limit.

He trudged through the streets within walking distance of the restaurant, but found nothing in his price range that wasn't a flop house, a crack house, or a whorehouse. Discouraged, he went back to work. It was Muriel who came up with a solution.

"No luck with finding a place, John?"

"No. Some ugly places around here. I'll have to look further out, I guess."

Muriel gave him a thoughtful look. "How much can you afford?"

"I figure I can get by on one-fifty a week. It won't leave much for food or clothes, but I need somewhere to drop."

"I got a spare room at my place. If you can behave yourself, I'll give you a look at it." She was smiling slightly when she said it.

"You're in no danger from me, Muriel," a faint smile on his lips. "Thanks for the offer."

"Yeah ... well ... you seem like a decent sort of guy. As long as you don't cause a fuss or get drunk or something like that, I'll take a chance."

"Thanks ... appreciate it," John nodded.

"Go get your stuff on your afternoon break and bring it back here. I'll take you back to my place when we're done tonight."

He did. Muriel had a car that she parked in the back alley behind the restaurant. They drove in silence through the darkened early morning streets for a few minutes, arriving outside a medium sized brownstone. It was a middle-class neighborhood that had declined somewhat over the years. 

"This looks far better than some of the places I was in earlier. In fact, I get the sense that it's familiar ... the neighborhood, I mean."

"It's fine for me ... I feel safe here," Muriel mused.

As they walked up to the third floor apartment, John commented on how quiet it was, unlike the rooms he had looked at earlier. Muriel unlocked her door and stepped inside, John following her. 

"This'll be your room," she said, pointing to an open door. It was a ten by ten square with a closet, a set of drawers, a small night table, and a window. It was clean and neat and the single bed was made.

"Since we both work the same hours, you might as well ride with me. A bus trip takes nearly forty-five minutes and there are damn few of them at this time of night."

He nodded. "What time do you get up in the morning?" 

"Nine or so. As long as we leave here by ten-thirty, we're OK. Lunch crowd doesn't show up until eleven thirty."

-0-

And so it began. Muriel Bartlett, widow, age 61, occupation cook, and John Doe, aged approximately early forties, occupation dishwasher. As the days progressed and Muriel and John got to know each other better, they established a routine for themselves in the small apartment. John would hand Muriel $150 each Sunday night for room and board. Muriel seemed reluctant to take it. She bought all the groceries and household supplies. 

It wasn't long before they began to talk about John's circumstances. Muriel was a good listener. She suggested that one way to help was to ask him about the things he liked and didn't like. She explained it was a way to help him stimulate his memory.

John was able to produce quick answers to her quick questions. He liked Chinese food. He disliked Thai food. He liked history books. He disliked science fiction. He liked Mel Brooks. He disliked Woody Allen. And so on. They were beginning to build an inventory of information about John Doe.

"I know I'm learning some things about myself, Muriel. And the game is a bit of fun. I wish that it would stimulate something more dramatic, though."

"It's early yet, John. Give it some time."

"I'm very grateful to you, you know," he said with a peaceful smile. "You've done so much for me. I don't know how I can repay you."

"Just get better, John. That will make everything worthwhile." She had extended her arms and was holding his hands as she spoke.

"Someone out there is looking for you, I'm sure."

"Why do you say that?"

"The ring ... it's a wedding ring. Some woman ... some family ... is looking for you," she said with certainty.

"There's no inscription on it ... not even initials or a date. No clue at all."

"Don't give up, John. Never give up."

While John lived with Muriel, she taught him to cook. In fact, he was now helping her in the restaurant when he had the time. She was a patient teacher and John was a quick learner. Mr. Leung expressed his satisfaction on how well the kitchen was running at the Bamboo Terrace. That admiration didn't extend to his wages. It was $300 a week and that was all.

Muriel opened up to John and told him about her life. She had married young. Ralph Bartlett had met her when she was working at a small diner in the south side and he was smitten with her. He began coming in every day she was there just for coffee, a donut, and a chat. Ralph was a small businessman, running a local delivery service with two medium sized trucks. He made a decent living and was thinking of buying a small house in the suburbs. 

They began to date, fell in love, and were married. Muriel was nineteen and Ralph was twenty-seven. They had two children; a boy, Ralph Jr. and a girl, Maureen. Muriel's parents didn't approve of Ralph or the marriage and virtually cut her out of their life, even when the grandchildren came along. They felt Muriel had married "beneath her." Ralph's parents were the opposite. Kind and generous, they welcomed Muriel and accepted her as a daughter. And of course, they spoiled the grandchildren.

The children grew and finished school, Ralph Jr. going off to college upstate while Maureen went to a commercial school to learn administrative skills. Both married, but both were now living far from Muriel and they didn't see each other often. Muriel used her two week vacation visiting her children and grandchildren, spending a week with each. It was her big event of the year.

Ralph was diagnosed with ALS, Lou Gehrig's Disease, when he was only 55, passing away four years later. Muriel was 51 when he died. She sold her home and put the money in mutual funds and went out looking for a job. When her neighbor, Mr. Leung, needed a cook, she admitted she didn't have much experience but would be happy to learn. She did and had been at the Bamboo Terrace ever since.

When John had been there for a month, Muriel reduced the rent to $100 per week. She said he earned the discount for helping around the apartment and restaurant, cooking most of their meals. He argued with her briefly, but she was adamant and he acquiesced. He admitted to her that he was becoming comfortable living with her, and felt less and less pressure to find something on his own. 

"Why did you decide to become a cook?" he asked out of the blue one day.

"Something to do. Something to fill the time. Time I had planned to spend with Ralph. The kids are grown and gone. I have enough money to last me. I don't have to work, but I didn't have anything else that I wanted to do ... so ... here I am," she grinned.

He told Muriel about his dreams ... the ones he could remember.

"Different women. None of them with distinct faces. There doesn't seem to be any pattern or point to the dreams. Just images. I wonder what it means?"

Muriel shrugged. "I have dreams like that. Dreams about Ralph ... about how it felt to have a man in my bed. Just repressed memories, I suppose. What do these women do in your dreams?"

"I'd rather not say," he snorted. "Let's just assume I was sexually active in my former life."

Muriel looked at him and smiled. "That ring says you had someone ... someone to share your bed with."

John nodded. "I wonder who?"

-0-

John displayed his pleasure when cooking, often humming or whistling while he prepared a new dish. When asked, he told Muriel it was stimulating, creative and very satisfying. The menu at the Bamboo Terrace was a rigidly adhered-to formula. At the apartment, however, he could experiment and Muriel could quickly compliment him on his successes, or suggest remedies for the not-so successful. Over the next months, John took over cooking all the meals.

He also became the designated shopper, committed to picking his own ingredients and establishing the freshness of each item. They were going a little further afield to find things, visiting shops he had learned about in his local explorations. Muriel would accompany him as the driver while John made notes.

John had lived with Muriel for six months by Valentines Day. He never complained about the tedious work he did at the restaurant. Mr. Leung continued to display his satisfaction with the man, but still paid him the same amount. He expressed surprise and dismay, however, when he learned of John's desire to find a job as a cook. Muriel had warned the owner that John was capable of more than just dishwashing. 

John had been stopping in at the Salvation Army once a month, donating some money each time in thanks for the assistance Major Matthews had given him. He kept Tom apprised of his progress and while he had not recovered anything significant of his memory, he appeared to be at peace with himself. Tom congratulated him and thanked him for his generosity. He knew John worked long hours and earned little at his present job.




Amnesia Ch. 01



When John donated a hundred dollars at Easter, Tom expressed shock. 

"John, you can't afford this, it's too much!" 

"No ... I can't afford not to give it. I owe you a lot. More importantly, it's a bribe," he smiled.

"How so?"

"I need you to help me find a replacement for me." 

"Are you leaving us?"

"No ... not exactly. There are a lot of jobs out there for cooks and I'd like to try my hand. Muriel has taught me a lot and I've learned a lot as well. I think I can do it. I know what it's like to run a restaurant kitchen from working with her and I'd like to try it on my own. I don't want to leave her in the lurch, so I need to find my replacement and make sure he or she will do a good job."

"John ... guys like you don't come down the road that often around here. It's going to be a bit of a challenge to find your replacement," he said, resigned. "However, I can understand your desire to do better. How does Muriel feel about this?"

"Well, she's not thrilled, but she knew all along it wasn't going to be permanent. She's a fine lady and I wouldn't hurt her for the world. I won't leave until I've found someone to take my place. 

"I've been thinking a mentally handicapped person with a mild disability might be ideal for the job. It's simple to teach and they are usually anxious to find meaningful employment. I've been looking up the handicap associations. I think two or three people would be needed to do that job with the hours being what they are."

"That's a fine idea. I hope it works. I know one organization locally that would be interested, I'm sure."

"It'll be easy to test. I'll just bring one in at a time and see how it goes. It's worth a try."

"It certainly is and I can guarantee you will get great cooperation from the people who are trying to place partially handicapped people."

The Wildwood Outreach Association dealt with adults of limited mental capacity. Tom, John, and Muriel arranged to meet with them one morning and discuss the project. As Tom Matthews had predicted, they were very supportive. John had to temper their enthusiasm with the reality of the situation. Long, late hours and a need to follow the rules. It would be Wildwood's responsibility to provide the transportation. While the counselors nodded their agreement, John cautioned them again that it would be more difficult than they thought.

John and Muriel screened the candidates before taking them to the restaurant. The eagerness of the men and women was encouraging, but the need for them to understand the procedures and not vary from them was the first thing they worked on. Mr. Leung looked on with a suspicious eye. He was quick to tell Muriel how unhappy he would be to lose John. He also voiced his doubts that these recruits could do the job without some disaster befalling him. 

It took time. John pointed out the promotional benefits of hiring these people and giving them real jobs for real pay. Apparently, the message was not lost on Mr. Leung. He verbally acknowledged the effort that John and Muriel gave, and he agreed to cover the full training costs. Each Sunday evening, the money was given to the Wildwood driver for safekeeping.

A month after they began, Muriel voiced her satisfaction that two of the new recruits could do the job. They weren't as quick or efficient as John, but then no one previously was, either. They were, however, steady, reliable, happy to be there, and proud of their work. One more candidate and John could begin to look for that next job.

Shortly after their initial success, Mr. Leung approached Muriel and asked for a meeting with her and John. Mr. Leung was considering buying a tavern that had been closed for some time. He wanted to reopen it, but he needed food service to make it viable. The kitchen had been allowed to deteriorate by the previous owners. He asked Muriel and John to survey the kitchen and give him an opinion on what it would take to revive the operation.

It was Mr. Leung's idea that John could be the head cook at the Tavern and Mr. Leung would hire a bartender-manager and serving staff. John would hire his assistant if he accepted the job. The tavern would open at eleven am and close at midnight. Food service would be cut off at nine pm except for pre-prepared snacks. John said he would consider it, depending on what he thought of the kitchen ... and the salary.

Their first look at the kitchen was dismaying. Grease and grime coated every surface. The only functional piece of equipment was the glass washer behind the bar, and it needed some attention as well. The wall and floor were a mess and any idea that the city would issue a food permit for this kitchen was a pipe dream. It needed a massive cleaning and repainting. The plateware, glasses, utensils and cookware were worn, but still serviceable.

"What is needed for this kitchen?" Mr. Leung asked in his fractured English.

"A nuclear device," John snapped, shaking his head at the mess.

Mr. Leung looked worried. He turned expectantly to Muriel and John.

"We'll have to pull every piece of equipment out of this place that isn't nailed down and steam clean it. The floors, ceiling and the walls the same. We can't move the ovens, so that's going to be manual labor. The same with the sinks. At least everything is stainless steel. That's a help," John concluded. 

"Expensive?" Mr. Leung looked fearfully at John.

"Hmmm ... maybe not. Just elbow grease and time for the most part. You'll need a few gallons of epoxy paint and a powerful steam cleaner."

"Who will do this?" the old man asked.

John shrugged and grinned. "Not me. I've already got a job, remember?"

Muriel snorted and covered her mouth to hide her smile. Her eyes gave her away. 

"I get people and paint. You make sure it done right?" 

"Alright. I'll do that. Just make sure you don't try any shortcuts or the city will have you doing it all over again just for the fun of it," John warned.

"Would they?" Muriel asked in surprise.

"I don't know. But I'm not going to let him think he can get away with a half-baked job. It may be me working in that kitchen and I don't intend to compete with cockroaches and silverfish." 

Mr. Leung apparently had quite a few relatives who owed him favors. A couple of them were Muriel's helpers in her kitchen. A hoard of them descended on the Tavern the next Sunday with paint, a rented industrial steam cleaner and a boatload of cleaning supplies. 

John grinned, turning to Muriel. "It's going to be the Keystone Cops around here. All I can do is give them instructions about what to do and how well to do it."

Happily, most of the volunteers spoke English and he was able to communicate with them. He broke them into teams and moved the kitchen equipment out into the back parking area of the tavern. The steam cleaning would be done there and the finished items would be brought into the tavern and stored in the restaurant area until the kitchen painting was complete. 

The nasty work of cleaning the ovens and sinks had to be done in place and by hand -- with the exception of the oven racks. It was hard, unpleasant work, but spelling each other off every few minutes, six people got the job done in less than a day and John complimented their efforts. The ovens were spotless despite their age, and the sinks and drains would easily pass inspection. 

Three days later, the epoxy paint had dried and they were ready to put everything back into place and prepare the kitchen for work. John had given it a thorough going-over and was satisfied that no inspector would reject this operation. They had installed a new screen door on the exit to the alleyway and had put a closer on the doors to the cooler and pantry. And, important for a restaurant, they engaged a pest-control firm to monitor the premises. 

Every square foot was washable and secure. The fans had been de-greased and cleaned and now worked properly. It would be a monthly job once the tavern re-opened. Even the transom window over the rear door had been cleaned and the woodwork repainted. They were ready for the city inspector on Friday.

Mr. Leung came by after John asked Muriel to let him know the kitchen was finished. As he surveyed the refurbished area, he looked surprised, but pleased. He thanked John and Muriel for their efforts. While John and the crew had been busy in the back, Mr. Leung had been supervising the clean-up in the front. 

The physical work was now done, but there were still people to hire. Which brought up the subject; who was going to be the cook? The owner had made no offer to John at this point.

"I hope he doesn't think I'm going to work for $300 a week," John cracked.

"Have you looked at what the going rate for a head cook is in this town, John?" 

"No ... not yet. Why ... is it low?"

"Far from it. There aren't enough to go around. You can get fifty thousand if you're even half-way decent."

"Wow ... I didn't know. Thanks for the heads up. I'll have to figure out how to work this with the old man. Maybe give him an introductory offer at forty and then a couple of raises to fifty if he's satisfied. Otherwise, I'll start lookin' elsewhere. Just the same, I hate to see all this work go to waste." 

"All you can do is try," Muriel shrugged.

He did try and Mr. Leung reluctantly agreed. He was no spendthrift, but he recognized the effort John had put in at his restaurant and the leadership in getting the tavern in good operating condition. A six month trial wouldn't break him. John set about hiring his assistant while the old man looked for a manager and serving staff. It took a couple of weeks, but it got done and the tavern reopened at eleven on a Monday morning. 

It worked well. The tavern business didn't return immediately, but when word got around about John's interesting and tasty specials, the lunch patronage improved markedly. The menu was simple, but every item was well prepared and presented. The bar stocked the most popular drafts, wines and spirits and the prices were reasonable. They had to be. This part of town wasn't the businessman's first choice for lunch.

As the reputation for the tavern grew, John expressed a desire to make another change. The neon sign over the front door was a shabby old one-word oval simply pronouncing Tavern. They needed a name and John decided to hold a contest. Free lunch or dinner for two for the person who came up with a new name for the old saloon-like place.

John watched as the new one-word sign was raised into place. Amnesia! The front on the new menus sported the slogan: Come in and forget your troubles. He had declared himself winner of the contest. The back cover had a one paragraph explanation of the name, signed by John Doe.

Mr. Leung had stood still for the new name, sign and menus. John admitted he was puzzled, but they had experienced two months of solid growth and profit under the old name and the old man made it known he was satisfied with that. 

"The old guy keeps surprising me. I'm never sure what he's thinking." he said to Carl, the new bartender-manager. 

In any event, after another month of solid growth in sales, Mr. Leung never said a word about it to John. 

When John sat back one Sunday morning, sipping his coffee with Muriel, he voiced his feelings to the older woman.

"I don't know about my other life, Muriel, but it's hard to imagine it would have been any more satisfying than this. You and Mr. Leung and Tom Matthews have made an amazing difference to my new life in just a few months. I don't seem to care much about my former life any more. I guess that's not a good sign, but I just can't work myself up to worry about it like I used to," he confessed.

Muriel smiled. "It was pretty lonely in this apartment until you came along, John. I miss you at the restaurant too, you know." 

He nodded his acknowledgement. "How are my young friends doing in the dishwashing department?"

"Fine. You guessed right again. They learn their jobs and don't forget. They show up on time and if one of them gets sick, another fills in. I think we've got about six of them trained now. Wildwood Outreach is approaching other restaurants and using Bamboo Terrace as a model for the program. You really started something for them. I think they're about ready to elect you president," she laughed.

"Well, it's not an original idea, you know. Lots of small firms have used handicapped people to help out on menial tasks that most adults don't want to do."

"I suppose, but you solved a big problem for Mr. Leung. Until you came along, we were featuring the dishwasher d'jour. You changed all that. I think that's why he didn't put up a fuss over renaming the bar and the sign."

John shrugged. "Muriel ... I was wondering ... about us ... my living here. You've been very kind to take me in, but I'm worried I've overstayed my welcome. I'm cramping your social life. It would be a poor way to repay you for your generosity," he said looking steadily at her.

"I wondered if that's what this was about. All I can say is that having you here is good for me, John. I don't think we cramp each other's style or get in each other's way. You and I talk a lot and that's a good thing for both of us. No ... I'm not anxious to see you go. If you do, make sure it's because it's what you want to do." She was smiling as a couple of tears trickled down her cheeks.

John rose and leaned over the table, kissing her gently on each tear, smiling back at her. 

"If you're happy, I'm happy." It was the only time the subject came up. 



Amnesia Ch. 01



I sat in the car and wept. I suppose Harry was right, but he had now shown me a hard side that scared me. But could I play the loving wife to a 17 stone man with a double chin? 

I listened to the car radio on the way home. The radio droned on about a girl called Emily, she had been abducted a few months ago, from outside a theatre where she was rehearsing for a play. The reporter started to give her description; she was 5'8" tall and 28 years old. That was all I heard before Harry retuned the radio.

"Well are you ready?"

I came out from the bedroom slowly. There I stood in a tight red dress 7 inches off my knees. I wore black opaque tights, and black high heels with a 4 inch heel. It had been 3 days since meeting my friend and I hadn't been out yet. I had tried to start cleaning and cooking for Harry but it was hard going. He wanted to take me out to the village pub. I suppose I had to go out sometime, so I forced myself to make the effort.

Harry's eyes glanced over my body. He was almost leering at me. The taxi driver did too as he opened the door for me. 

I stared out of the window as Harry made small talk with the driver. I looked into the driver's rear view mirror. He glanced at me with his deep brown eyes. Then when Harry told him I was his wife the taxi driver stared into the mirror at me. What the hell he was thinking I didn't know for sure, but I could guess.

We went into the pub and Harry grabbed my hand. Eyes drifted in our direction, questioning eyes. I watched as Harry unrolled a fist full of £20 notes. One man saw them and seemed to shake his head with a grin on his face. He half stumbled as he got up from his stool at the bar. He sunk his whiskey in one gulp and waved goodbye to the landlord. Harry was ordering the drinks as the drunk moved past me.

"Got money has he sweetheart?" he asked with a drunken grin.

I just stood there realising that was what people thought. That was what my friend had said. But did I really look that out of place with my husband?

Harry ordered the food and we sat in a corner booth. The young waiter glanced at my nipples. I knew they were sticking out, they always did. 

"Did you remember to take the pills?"

I nodded as Harry shovelled a fork full of food in his mouth. He seemed confident now, more confident than ever before, maybe because my questions about my past had become less and less. 

His hand went on my leg under the table as the young waiter approached. I could see the waiter had noticed Harry's arm was under the table touching me somewhere. I grabbed Harry's arm and pulled it up. His hand slid up my thigh bunching my dress up. I just stared at the waiter the whole time. He realised something was going on under the table. My mouth dropped open slightly, but I never took my eyes off the waiter. 

"Anything else sir?" he asked, after clearing his throat.

"Just the bill," Harry replied.

I looked at the waiter as he picked up the empty plates. My husband had buried his lips in my neck and was giving me a very wet kiss. The waiter's eyes flicked to my husband and then to me. I slowly let my tongue lick my top lip. The waiter gulped and backed away. My husband's hands found the crotch of my tights. He rubbed me a little and groaned in my ear as he kissed it. 

"You're wet," he moaned.

On the taxi ride home Harry kept his hand on my thigh. He flexed his fingers on the nylon, as I just stared into the rear view mirror at taxi driver's eyes, the same taxi driver from earlier.

By the time we got to the bedroom I knew this was it, our first fuck, or rather the first fuck I would remember!

He stood watching me as I undressed. His eyes feasted on my body. The way Harry stared at me unnerved me a little. He smiled at me when I stood naked before him. My nipples felt like they were on fire, and my pussy was soaked. But something inside that earlier had said no, was just a faint whispering that I could barely hear, even so, it was there. 

I moved to the bed and got under the sheets. I turned away as Harry undressed. I felt the bed lurch as he got in next to me. I grabbed his brown curly hair as his lips clamped on my nipple. His tongue danced over the tip causing me to gasp. 

"Will you lick me?" I mumbled.

He stopped licking my nipple for a second. Then he slipped under the sheets. I felt his fat podgy fingers spread my dripping pussy. His lips and tongue started working on me. I pulled his head deeper into my pussy, but only because I didn't want to hear him grunting. I tried to keep as still as possible. That didn't last as I felt his lips nibble on my clit. His groaning seemed to vibrate on my button. I was panting hard trying not to make too much noise, but I just couldn't help it now. I shuddered and climaxed, I jumped around, and I groaned. I clung hard to my husband's head until I pushed him away. 

He came back up from under the sheets. His face was wet and he had that leering smile on his face. 

"So, are you ready Mrs Trent?"

He could see the look in my eyes; he could see how scared I was. My hands went up onto his chest, with my palms pressing against him. He knew I wanted to resist, it was almost like he was waiting for me to say no, he grinned at me. I turned away from his eyes and moved my hands down by my side. I spread my legs further apart.

"Just make sure, you don't put all your weight on me please," I said softly.

He groaned lowering himself forward, on his unwilling wife. I could feel his hand fumbling around between my legs. His breathing was short and rapid. 

"Jesus! Not in there!" I screamed.

I pushed my hand down and grabbed his cock. I fed his cock into my pussy and breathed a sigh or relief. If I thought he had deliberately gone for my ass, I would have squeezed his balls until his eyes popped out. I kept my eyes closed as he began thrusting. I had dreaded this moment, I just didn't know if I fancied my own husband!

"Oh god, this is fantastic!" he whimpered.

"Look can you take more of, of your weight. Fucking hell, I'm going to suffocate!"

He pushed up on his arms and I managed to get some air in my lungs. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He had a big grin on his face that sometimes twisted with the effort of fucking me. I couldn't look at him anymore. My husband was fucking his wife, and all I could think about was doing this for the next 30 to 40 years!

He seemed so intense and excited; you would have thought this was our first fuck! As that thought flashed through my head my skin started to crawl, what if he wasn't my husband? I had seen a marriage certificate, but was I really Christine Trent!

He shuddered and started grunting in my ear. The bed stopped rocking, and he just held himself in me as he groaned. 

He pulled out and stumbled to the loo. I grabbed my panties and put them between my legs to stop the flow. Huh! What flow! I knew he didn't have much between his legs, but bloody hell where was his spunk? I had seen the little dribble that oozed from his cock the other morning, but I honestly thought he had hid the rest from me. Maybe this was one of the reasons I fucked around, 4 ½ inches that I could hardily feel, and a little dribble of spunk. Was this what I had to look forward to for the rest of my life!

I went to the loo after he came back. I sat there for a few minutes trying to figure out what to do. When I went back into the bedroom he was asleep. I gently pulled my pillow out and spent the night on the couch. 

"Why haven't we got a telly?" I asked the next day.

"I'll get one in the week if you want. My mate is coming next weekend; he's staying with us for a while."

"What mate?"

"Joey, he was the best man at our wedding. He's going to bring some wedding photos too."

My mouth just stayed open. I suppose this would give me the proof I needed, but did I really want it?



Amnesia Ch. 02



I awoke to the sun shining in my face. Certainly not the most pleasant way to wake up. Coming back to life I realized I can hear the shower running. I quickly remember the incredible brunette that soothed my body and sole the day before, not an terribly hard feat considering there remains little else in my brain bank. The prospects of spending more time with this beauty caused my dick to twitch to life.

I got out of bed and headed to the shower to join her. I was happy to find the door unlocked. Since I was already naked, I stepped into the shower with her. 

"Well good morning sleepy. " She said glancing down at my fully awoke cock. "Nice to see you 'up' like this."

"Don't mind if I join you. Do you?"

"I was just finishing. But...." 

And without another word she sank to her knees in front of me. She grasped the base of my cock. Looking up into my eyes, she rubbed the swollen head of my dick across her full wet lips. Smiling she began to lick the head. My knees almost buckled. Thanks to shower bars I managed to stay on my feet. She continued to lick my cock as though it were a popsicle. From the base her tongue would slither up the underside of my dick. When she reached the top she would swirl her tongue around the head like she was trying to stop an ice cream cone from dripping. She would slip my cock into her mouth, bob her head a few times, then start the whole thing over. 

After a few minutes of this she stood back up and kissed me deeply. Her tongue searching for mine to play with. All the time her silky hands were busy stroking my cock, groping my balls and rubbing all around my groin. The feeling of those soft hands, soapy, slippery hands sliding around and groping my pleasure zones was indescribably sensual. The deep probing kisses and those dark eyes staring straight into mine, were enough to have any man surrender to her completely. 

The kissing and fondling continued for a while. Then she repositioned me so that the shower hit me square in the chest while she continued to grope and fondle. It was about this time that I realized the soapy stuff in her soft hands that she was fondling me with was not soap but a hair remover. This woman had completely removed all my pubic hair.

"What the hell! Why'd you do that?" I guess I was more shocked than angry at this point.

"I'm willing to bet you like completely shaved pussies. Well us gals like guys with completely clean packages." She replied as sweetly as she could. "Now let me finish sucking you. I want your creamy load for breakfast" 

And she was again on her knees, sucking on my cock with adoration in her eyes. 

"Mmmmmm, much better. No hair to get in my way just smooth hard meat." 

This lady was full of surprises, but she knew how to suck. The way she worked her tongue around the head was heavenly. She applied just the right amount of pressure. I reached down and tangled my fingers in her hair. Holding her head I began pumping my hips, fucking her face. This beautiful woman just looked up at me with eyes that seemed to twinkle and smile. 

I was ready to pull out so I could fuck her and to prolong the sensations. She must have sensed how close I was. She grabbed my ass and pulled me, taking my cock down her throat. She sucked hard as my hot load of cum shot from my body.

"AAAARRRRRHHHHH" I yelled over and over as each shot exploded down her throat. 

She backed off just a little. Pulling my still cumming dick from her throat, but keeping it in her hot perfect mouth. Still gently sucking on my sensitive dick she moaned and trembled as she experienced a mini orgasm of her own even though she didn't even touch herself.

When I started to grow soft she let me slip from her mouth. 

"Mmmm. Much better now. I'm all done you finish your shower." She stepped from the shower.

The warm water felt great. There’s nothing quite like a shower after an amazing woman gives you a fantastic blowjob. My cock was still tingling but I honestly didn't know if it was the awesome blowjob or the complete lack of pubic hair. 

I finished the shower after a few minutes of washing. I stepped from the shower to find a brand new complimentary toothbrush and toothpaste. This was a blessing. 

When I finished, I stepped back into the room to find my companion had left. This note was on the middle of the bed:

Lover,

Last night was a long time fantasy come true. I wish I could spend another day with you, but I can't. Call me sometime. 

All My Lust,

That was it. Damn my luck. Call her, I can't even remember my name. 

I got dressed and left the room. Famished from the hot sexual activity the previous evening, I decided the hotel restaurant was the best place to go. Grabbing a newspaper on the way in, hoping something may trigger something. Seated at a table, breakfast ordered, I started scanning the local news. Not really expecting to find headlines reading 'Local man still missing', but hoping for something to trip my memory. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted.

"Where's Robin this morning." A female voice said.

As I looked up my mind raced into high gear. 'Robin. Do I know a Robin? Should I know a Robin? 

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Hoping she would elaborate.

With a cute grin, she replied, "I was asking where Robin was."

I suppose my expression was one of being completely dumbfounded.

She gave an exaggerated look of shock, then leaning way over like you would if you wanted to portray being upside down, she said. "You don't remember do you."

It was all clear now. I remembered her from the previous evening. This was the room service girl that delivered the food while I was in that damn compromising position. She winked and called me Batman. So of course, by Robin, she was referring to my side-kick the night before. Now I was embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. Alexis right?"

"My friends call me Alli. It looks like your eating alone, is your lady friend recovering?" another knowing wink.

"Actually I don't know where she is Alli."

"Oh. I understand."

"No no. It's not like that." don't need her thinking I hired a hooker to hang me upside down. "It's umm, kinda complicated."

"Is everything okay.... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

Now where do I go with this? This did not look like it was going to be a short term kind of memory loss. Sooner or later I was going to have to trust someone. I'm probably a day late coming to this conclusion. I guess she looks trustworthy enough.

"I can't help you with the name, I didn't catch it myself."

I invited Alli to join me and over the next hour or so, while I ate, I told her all about waking up two mornings ago not knowing anything about myself or how I came to be in Vegas. I explained about my lack of I.D. and those concerns.

She listened intently to every detail. This was the first time I really looked at her. She had to be in her early twenties at the most. Alli was a very pretty girl in a cute sort of way. She was around five and a half feet tall when she was standing. I almost doubt she weighed a hundred pounds when soaking wet. Her body was well proportioned for her size. She had curly strawberry blond hair and bright green eyes. Her complexion, creamy and flawless.

"So you don't remember anything at all."

"Everything past the last twenty four hours or so is a complete blank. Totally gone. Not even fragments."

"So where will you stay? What will you do? What's next?"

"I really don't know. I'm sort of taking this one hour at a time."

"It's not the penthouse at the MGM Grand or anything, but your welcome to stay with me for a while. Maybe together we can figure this all out."

"That's very nice of you Alli, but I'm sure your boyfriend would not approve."

With a slight giggle, "No boyfriend to worry about. And, I insist"

We walked together to her car. It was now that I noticed what a sexy little ass she had.

It was a fairly short ride in her little Pontiac convertible. After a quick stop at the local department store to pick me up a clean change of cloths and the essentials, we arrived at her apartment. 

A nice place, about what one would expect for a young single girl. 

A smallish one bedroom on the first floor. Sparsely decorated, just the basics.

We sat in the living room and she told me all about herself. How her parents were drunks and what a terrible relationship she had with them. She told me how everything reached a boiling point one evening and she just walked out and kept walking. That was back east when she was seventeen, just two and a half years ago. She wound up here, determined not to prostitute herself to survive. She was proud to tell me that even though she had to lie about her age and work experience to get a job, she has never sold her body. Alli was even picking up night and weekend classes to get her diploma. This girl was spunky.

She asked about the previous evening, "How did you ever wind up in that predicament." and we laughed about the strange twists of fate life can give you. 

We talked till dark. It's ironic, but I now knew more about Alli than I did about myself.

"Time to turn in. Tomorrow morning I have a class at the University." 

"Thank you for having me as your guest. You have a good night. I'll sack out here on the sofa." 

"Oh no you don't. I have a king size bed and its been months since I’ve had a man exploring my body. Besides I saw something last night I can't wait to experience for myself."

"I hope your not expecting too much of an argument from me. With my weakened mental condition, I'm going to be pretty easy to talk into things."

"Good! Follow me."

I followed her to the bedroom without another word. She fished in her dresser for a moment. 

"I'll be right back." she said as she left the room. 

I looked around the room. No personal pictures, but not being close to family, that was understandable. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted it. On the floor under the bed was a large pink dildo. Damn this girl must be lonely. Before I could look closer, she came back.

She was now dressed in a very sheer black nightie. This girl was dripping with sensuality. Any man with good eyes and warm blood would become hard at the very sight. And I certainly fit that category. My cock became hard instantly. 

"Do you like?" she asked as she did a pirouette.

"I may have lost my memory but I'm not insane! Any man would have to be crazy not to find you incredibly desirable. You look good enough to eat!"

"Now your getting the idea. A little free trade, I give you a place to stay and you take care of my needs. And right now I need to have a good hard cock in me. I need your cock."

She walked up to me and began to unbuckle my belt. Belt free, Alli pulled zipper down and reached into my pants. With the everything loose, my pants fell to my ankles. Roughly groping my dick with one her left hand Alli unbuttoned my shirt with her right hand. She pushed my shirt off my shoulders and l let it fall to the floor. 

She dropped to her knees in front of me she slipped her fingers under the waistband of my briefs. Slowly she began to pull my shorts down. An audible gasp escaped her lips when she saw my crotch now without any hair. Alli looked past my eyes, into my very sole. Her eyes were twinkling and she had a huge smile, right before she opened her lips and slid them over my completely hairless dick. 

"OHHHhhhh Yes! That is great Alli. Suck my cock good."

She kept her eyes glued to mine as she sucked on my meat. But even while she was lavishing attention on my cock with her talented tongue, her hands were busy untying my shoes. It was a rush to look into her eyes as she bobbed her head on my shaft. And knowing that, at the same time, she was untying my shoes like some sort of sexual servant might..... Well it makes one feel pretty special.

It was only after she was done untying my shoes and helping me off with the cloths gathered around my ankles, that her hands made there way up my legs and cupped my bare balls. 

I can tell you this much. When you have completely bald cock and ball sack, the sensations are enhanced.

Her fingers tantalized and played with my balls. She would feel each one rolling them around with her fingers. Then Alli started to stroke my cock that was slick with her saliva. At the same time she leaned over and was licking my balls. The roughness of her tongue on my sensitive sack was indescribable. She would lick my balls for a while then lick my shaft and fondle my balls. But the most amazing feeling in the world was when she bobbed on my shaft for a while then swallowed me to the base. She took my full length into her mouth and down her throat. My balls never went without attention while Alli had my cock in her mouth.

I could feel my cum pressure building. I knew that soon this girl would be drinking my load. I think she could sense it too. Her sucking, licking and groping became more urgent. 

"AAARRRGGGHHH. OOHHH ALLI.  IF YOU DON'T STOP I'M GOING TO LOSE IT."

Hearing this Alli doubled her efforts. She was like a woman determined to burn into my brain just how masterful a blowjob she could perform on a man. She continued to suck my dick, one hand stroking my shaft the other fondling my balls.

"AAHHHH. FUCK. HERE IT CUMS. OHHH FUCK. SUCK ME ALLI. SUCK ME GOOD BABY."

I could feel my cum racing from where her fingers were massaging my sack, up through my shaft, exploding into her hot mouth.

"OHHH FUCK YOUR GREAT. AHHHH."

I must have blasted five or six good thick shots into her mouth. Then my orgasm started to subside. My knees began to buckle. And pretty Alli, her mouth full of my cock, swallowing my creamy load, was still looking directly into my eyes with her sparkling green eyes. She kept gently sucking and licking my dick as it deflated. When the hardness was gone she let me slide from her mouth.

Standing back up she took my hand in hers. Leading me, together we climbed up on the bed. Guiding me onto my back she laid on top of me.,

"Sweetheart, you are one amazing cock sucker."

"Well I hope your pretty amazing too."

"Why don't you take a seat on my face so I can taste your pussy. I'm dying to get your body." It was when I said this, that I realized I have not even seen her nude body yet.

She worked her way up turned around and facing my feet, she lifted the skirt on her baby doll nightie and straddled my head. What a beautiful sight in front of me. Her pussy was completely shaved with large glistening lips. The musky aroma of womanly excitement filled my nose. Alli slowly lowered her treasures to my tongue. 

I began licking her upper thighs, completely avoiding her pussy. I would lick and kiss one thigh then the other and back again. As her frustration grew, so did her desire. Her fragrance of lust grew stronger as did her passion. 

"Ohh don't tease me." her voice a cute almost pouty whine. "Please lick me. Eat my pussy."

How could I resist?

I reached out with my tongue and tasted the moisture on her pussy lips. The juices from this girl were ambrosial. A nectar fit for a king. I was determined to lick her pussy as long as she would let me. And as one of the wonderful pleasures of life would have it, the more nectar I lapped up, the more her pussy offered to me.

Her body tensed in a small and quiet orgasm. Alli only let out a deep sigh. She started to rock her hips, grinding her dripping cunt on my face. I reached up with my hands to fondle her tits through the sheer fabric of her nightie. I found the most wonderfully hard nipples poking against the fabric. I tweaked them as I continued to lick her pussy and drive my tongue as deeply into her as I could. 

"MMMmmm. Oh yess!" Alli began to moan. 

I pinched and pulled her nipples some, eliciting a few small yelps. I figured her nipples were sensitive and my rough action was bringing some discomfort. But my tongue exploring her pussy was bringing her pleasure at the same time. The sounds Alli was making ping ponged with the sensations she was experiencing. 

"MMMmmmm Ohhhh Ouch OHHhh Mmmm AHHhhh."

Even though I was having fun seeing what sounds I could get from playing her body, I released her tits. 

Grasping her hips firmly I pulled and twisted her sexy bottom just a little. In this new position Alli's button of love was right where I wanted it. I gently flicked my tongue around the hood of her clit. I soon enticed it to come out so I could play with it. Softly playing with Alli's button she began to pant and gasp.

"OHH OHHH I Love that. Keep going. Keep eating me. I want to cum hard on your tongue. OHHH YEAH THAT'S THE SPOT!"

Alli's nectar was dripping into my mouth. I was groping her ass hard and lapping up her flowing juices. My tongue working her cunt and licking her clit. Her body was building to a large orgasm. I could feel her begin to tremble as her orgasm began to rumble through, building in intensity like an on coming freight train.

"Ohhh I Can Feel It Coming. DON'T STOP. DON'T YOU FUCKING STOP. OHHH OHHH OHHH  FUCK HERE IT IS. AHHHH YESSSS OHHH AHHHHH FUCK ME. TONGUE ME.  EAT ME. OHHH AHHHHHHHH.!!!"

Her cum literally flooded my mouth and face. She collapsed forward on top of me. Her body still trembling. There is nothing that puts a smile on my face, or makes me happier than bringing a woman that much pleasure. When her orgasm subsided and her body settled. She opened her eyes to find her face only inches from my again hardening cock. She grasped my member in her dainty hand and began to stroke me the rest of the way to rock hard. 

"It's nice to know you haven't forgotten everything. You still know how to eat a fucking pussy. My little cunt is still trembling inside."

"Still trembling huh? Why don't you sit this pretty little pussy down on my cock so I can feel your trembles."

Alli got up and repositioned herself over my cock. She placing her right hand on my chest for support, and using her left hand to guide my dick. In a slow deliberate motion, Alli lowered her still quivering cunt over my hard member. She tossed her head back in obvious pleasure of being filled with my hardness. I let out a groan of pleasure as I felt that wonderful hot wetness applying exquisite pressure on my cock. In one motion she took me inside her all the way to my balls.

"Your right my dear, I can feel your cunt quivering a little."

"Its to full now to twitch too much. Your big cock is filling me. And I just love your shaved cock and balls. I remember you had hair when I first saw you. When did you decide to shave?"

"My lady friend decided to take that into her own hands." I responded.

Alli slowly started riding my dick, as she continued to talk. "Wow. That is so fucking hot. You let her shave you! I'd love to shave your beautiful cock and balls someday. Will you let me shave it next time you need to clean up?"

"To be honest with you, I haven't yet decided if I'm going to stay shaved or not."

Alli continued, punctuating each word by slamming her pussy down hard. "Oh.... It's.... So.... Fucking.... Hot.... You.... Have.... To!!! And.... You.... Have.... To.... Let.... Me.... Shave.... You!! PLEASE"

"Okay sweetheart, IF I decide to keep shaved, I will let you shave me." 

You know, it’s funny what a man will promise a pretty girl when his dick is buried inside her cunt. I knew very little about her really and here I was promising to let her take a razor to my dick. It's probably best to change the subject and not think too much about this. 

"Damn Alli you have such a tight pussy and its so hot. The way your pussy is working my cock while you fuck me. Your cute little body. And those great feeling tits. Take this nightie off and let me see your tits Alli.

She grasped the bottom of the little black nightie and pulled it over her head. She had big pink nipples that extended out from her tits. And I swear they were begging me to suck on them.




Amnesia Ch. 02



"Look, I'd like to see more of my friends. You must have phone numbers. Maybe we could have a little dinner party and invite some of them."

I didn't like the way he looked at me. Surely it wasn't that bad a request?

"Christine, believe me you don't have friends, not like you think you do."

"I must have, not everyone hates me, do they? Please Harry, it would mean so much to me."

"You don't get it do you? I've tried to soften the blow, but you just keep on."

I could see anger in face. I didn't want to upset him but I had. Besides, I had another plan in the back of my head that I would use later.

"I think you had better tell me then, why I don't have any friends. What are you protecting me from?"

"OK, OK, but don't say I didn't warn you."

We sat opposite each other at the kitchen table. He looked at me and took a deep breath. 

"9 months ago I went to a rugby match with some mates. Only the game was called off due to fog. We came back home, our home. We had a few drinks and started playing cards. You did some food and I had a phone call from my boss. I had to go to work to sort out a few things."

I watched him gulp and he picked a cigarette from the packet. 

"The boys stayed for the food, and, well."

"Well what?" I asked annoyed by his pause.

"A week later one of the guys confessed to his wife. He couldn't stand the guilt I suppose. You fucked him, you threw yourself at him."

I shook my head. I could feel my fingers start to shake, and the colour drained from my face.

"I, I couldn't do that. No I wouldn't do that," I mumbled.

"It soon went round the town that you seduced him. With what happened before with Jessica's husband, well, do you really expect to have any friends?"

I just sat in the chair as he got up and went into the garden. My mind just drifted, numb with what he had said. I couldn't even think about it without feeling sick. I just couldn't see myself doing those things. I mean a one affair would be bad enough. But to seduce another one of my friends husbands! I walked out into the garden. I just watched him as he tinkered with a lawn mower motor.

"I kicked you out. But you came crawling and begging, begging me to take you back."

"How many men were there? Was, was he the, the only one?"

"You never confessed to going with any of the others, only you know the answer to that, but then again you don't, do you?"

I still didn't want to believe this. I had no way of knowing the truth, not until I regained my memory. 

"So why did you let me have a boob job? Surely that would add to what I was like, why let me walk around with these bloody great things swinging around for everyone to leer at? I don't believe you, you're making all this up. I, I'm not like that, I can't be!" I shrieked.

"You know you really don't like them do you? Not the new Christine, but the old one did. I suppose it's a sort of rough justice."

I sat feeling sorry for myself for the next few hours. Maybe it was better not to know some of the things I was finding out. So the old Christine married some guy for his money, and fucked around, was that what I was? Was that a true description of me? Everything pointed to that but in my heart I didn't want to believe it. I made Harry a cup of tea and took it into the dining room. 

"Have you taken your pills today?"

"A few minutes ago," I answered, "what are you doing?"

I moved round to look at the computer. He smirked and twisted the screen to me.

"It's my work, my job, my boring, stupid job as you call it. I design buildings."

I nodded, trying to look interested. He smiled.

"You never used to like my work. But it bought you all those fancy clothes and expensive jewellery." 

"Can I go to the village, to get something for tea?"

He smirked again, "I'd better come with you."

"I'll go, it's not far."

I sat behind the wheel of the car as Harry stood looking from the front door. He had this strange grin on his face. I took a deep breath and stared at the key. I pushed it into the ignition then I stopped. I looked down at the dials, buttons, and pedals. The car door opened and Harry grinned at me.

"I don't drive do I?" I mumbled.

I sat in the passenger seat as we went to the village. OK it was funny that I didn't know I couldn't drive, but it had fucked up the plan I had thought about earlier. I wanted to get away from Harry and go back to the shell of the old house. Just to look for a clue or something to help me remember. The only other option was the bus, if there was one. I just wanted to do it on my own, the more I was told about myself the more I didn't like it. I needed freedom to investigate without my husband. I walked round the shop picking up things for tea. When I got to the counter I was greeted by a middle aged man, the drunk from the pub. He smiled at me and I managed a nervous half grin back. He started putting my groceries in a bag. I didn't take much notice of what he was saying, but I did notice the sly glance at my breasts. My tight brown jumper seemed to mould itself to my huge chest. I could feel my nipples tingling. I opened my purse, and having to glance down I could see my nipples pushing my jumper out. Two very visible bumps the size of thimbles stood out. I swept a few strays hairs back behind my ear. 

"That's a nice jumper," he said with a smirk.

I could feel my face getting hotter. 

"Do you want anything else, sweetheart?" he asked in an amused tone.

I swallowed hard, and barely managed to say, "No thank you."

He held up the handles of the carrier bag and I grabbed them.

"It must be cold outside, sweetheart."

He stared straight at my nipples, and then grinned as our eyes met and he winked. I rushed out of the shop and got into the car. My breathing was rapid. When I looked back at the shop, he was stood in the doorway, just grinning at me. I sat in the passenger seat feeling my pussy trickle. I tried to stop myself panting, but it just increased when Harry put his hand on my thigh. I looked down at my nipples; there they were big and hard, and aching like mad. I opened my legs slightly and shot a glance at Harry. My mouth hung open and I was panting harder. I felt Harry's hand move up the inside of my thigh. He parked the car next to the house. His hand had been rubbing me through my wet panties. My legs were trembling quite violently, I had spread them apart and I had pressed his hand into my crotch. 

"You liked it didn't you? You fucking liked him looking at me!"

I looked down at my rumpled skirt and pushed my hand into my panties. I heard Harry pull his zip down. I closed my eyes and tipped my head back against the headrest. I could hear Harry panting, but I didn't want to. I just wanted to be alone; I wanted to be stood in the shop again. I wanted the shopkeeper leering at me; I wanted him making disgusting comments about my huge tits and rock hard nipples. I wanted to play with myself in front of him! I heard Harry groan as he shot his load. I didn't want to hear it, but I did.

"Grab my tits!" I snapped through gritted teeth.

He grabbed a handful and squeezed as I felt myself gush! I half stumbled to the house tugging my skirt down. My heart was racing and I just couldn't see straight. I was still panting as I raced to the loo. I sat there and hugged myself rocking slightly. My head was a mess; I didn't know what to think anymore. How could I change like that? One minute some dirty pervert is leering at my tits causing me embarrassment. The next minute I'm fingering my pussy getting off on it! Maybe the only thing that has jumped from the old Christine to the new one was the slut inside her! Of all the things I wouldn't have wanted that, but I was stuck with it, until I figured out how to get my memory back. 

"You bastard you got off on that didn't you?" I screeched.

Harry just looked at me in shock.

"I mean it you fucking well did. Why the hell did you let me do that in the bloody car!"

He pushed me back until I landed on the couch.

"Yes I fucking got off on it. Seeing you bloody frig yourself, and the look on your face. Christ that was the sexiest thing I've ever fucking seen!"

I just sat looking up at him in total shock. He seemed so sincere, was it true, and was it really that sexy for him? He had a strange look in his eyes now. My skirt had flicked up when he pushed me on the couch. He was looking down at my exposed thighs. I half stood up and he pushed me back down. I went to get up again, and this time he grabbed the tops of my arms. He pulled me to him and forced a kiss on my lips. I kept my mouth shut tight. I squirmed and wriggled but he just held me more firmly. He grabbed my ass with both hands and pulled me against him. I felt his fat belly press against me. I renewed my struggle but he held me close to him. I turned away from the tongue he tried to put in my mouth. He finally settled for my exposed neck. In the end I gave up struggling and just stood motionless. He grabbed my shoulders again and held me away from him. I just stared defiantly into his eyes. He was smiling slightly, a sort of confident grin that made me open my mouth a little. My defiant look dropped, only slightly, but it was enough to make his grin widen a little. He pushed me back on the couch and just stared at me for a few seconds. He then turned and walked away. I wanted to tell him I wanted a divorce. I wanted to see his face just to see his reaction. But deep down I knew that for the moment anyway, I needed him, and I needed to get back in his good books.

"Your tea is ready," I mumbled 2 hours later.

We sat in silence eating. Now and then I wondered how I could get him to trust me. He had told me he wouldn't leave me alone, until he was sure I could cope. It seemed he was able to work from home, although I knew sooner or later, he would have to leave me for the office. I had thought about running away in the middle of the night, but where too? I didn't know which way to go. I had thought about going to the village, but for what? I mean, Harry had told me several people knew of my amnesia. If I approached the wrong person I would be taken back to my husband. I would probably be considered confused, due to my amnesia. Besides was I really being fair on the man I had married?

"Harry, can you drop me off in town when you go to work?" 

I knew he could hear the slight quiver in my voice. He looked at me for a few seconds.

"Sure, if you think you are up to it?"

I gulped and sat in shock for a second. I expected to be told no. I felt a lift in my heart.

"The doctor is due tomorrow, wait until then and we'll ask him."

I gave him a nervous smile and a nod. That wasn't so bad; it would give me time to figure out what I needed to do. But for now I would have to play the loving wife, just to show him I was happier with things. I washed up and we sat in the lounge. I asked him more questions about our life before the fire, only this time my questions were more about things we did, and things we liked. I even apologised for being a bitch earlier. I put it down to not liking what I had heard about myself. He was in bed as I undressed. I could see the odd glimpse at my body. I sat in front of the mirror brushing my hair out. I could see him lick his lips as he watched me. I gave him a little grin as our eyes met in the mirror. He smiled back at me. I slipped under the sheets and cuddled into him. My hand moved down between his legs and I rolled his balls in my fingers. 

"You must really love me to put up with what I did?" 

"Yeah," he murmured.

"I want to make it up to you Harry; I want to be a good wife. A lot of men would have dumped me if I did all those things. But you stuck by me, didn't you?"

I lightly stroked his cock and kissed his cheek. He gulped and his mouth opened, like he was waiting for something nice.

"You will be patient with me won't you?" 

I kissed his cheek again. 

"I should be thankful for what I've got, even if I can't remember what that is exactly."

I let my lips trail over his cheek, planting little soft slow kisses, as my hand got more into a slow rhythm on his stiff cock. He gulped again and his mouth opened a little. I knew he was savouring the feel of what I was doing.

"I'm sorry for what I did, real sorry. I don't know how you could find it in your heart to forgive me, but I'm glad you did."

I could hear little gasping breaths coming from him. My hand stroked a little faster and I sensed he couldn't hold on.

"Do you want to fuck me darling?" I cooed.

"Ye, yes," he panted.

"Do you want to fuck me hard and feel my big tits, and stiff nipples?"

He started to sit up and I put my hand on his chest.

"No Harry, let me get on top. I mean you can watch my huge melons bounce up and down. Fuck they are so big Harry, thank you for letting me have such big tits. I'm getting used to them now, all big and so very, very, firm," I said slowly.

I felt him shoot into my hand as I started to sit up. He bucked his hips.

"Shit sorry, did I get you too excited?"

"Yeah, oh fuck yeah!" he groaned.

"Hand me a tissue would you?"

I lay with my head on his chest, happy that I made him shoot without letting him fuck me. Still I wanted to push it a little, just tease him slightly to make him feel a little embarrassed, and then maybe he'd think twice before trying to fuck me in future.

"Sorry Harry, you see I don't even know how excited you get. I didn't expect you to, well, so quickly I mean."

"That's OK, I well, I guess I just needed it, after what happened earlier, in the car, I mean."

He was stumbling over his words, and trying to hide the truth from me.

"Yeah but that wasn't very nice of me, going solo like that. But boy you must have really liked it to come so quick just now?"

I watched him swallow.

"You did come quickly didn't you Harry? I bet you don't usually spunk that quick?"

"Um, not usually no," he replied. 

Liar I thought, "Good because when we get back from town, you know when you drop me off. Then we'll have a long slow fuck, and make it last for hours."

I kissed he cheek quickly and turned over. 

"Good night," I said softly, leaving him to think on what I said.

I sat angry as hell the next day. The doctor had suggested that I should stay at home until my blood pressure stabilised. I had a real fit and told him I wasn't going take the bloody pills anymore.

"What the hell am I taking pills for anyway? I've lost my memory not a bloody leg!" I screeched.

"Christine you must finish the pills it is vital to your recovery."

My eyes shot between the doctor and my husband. 

"Look it is my memory I'm worried about. I feel fine really I do. You can't make me take them," I felt every part of my body stiffen with rage, "why are you drugging me? What do the pills do?" 

I watched a look between them, like they knew something I didn't!

"What are you doing with that? You're not sticking a fucking needle in me! No, fuck off!"

I sunk back into the chair, as Harry grabbed my arm. I must have slept for quite a time. As I opened my eyes I saw Harry looking down at me. He must have put me into bed too.

"How do you feel? Christine, Christine?"

"Dry, my, my mouth is dry."

I felt my eyes start to get heavy. I swallowed the water, just a small sip and my head started to spin. The smiling face started moving sort of wobbling like it was pulsing. I felt sick just staring at him. I closed my eyes to stop my head spinning. 

The next time I opened my eyes my head felt a little clearer. The moon shone through the window. I felt lost and scared. I saw Harry looking down on me.

"I feel scared Harry. Don't let him inject me again, I don't want to take the pills, please Harry, don't make me take them."

He grinned down at me, "don't worry, soon you won't needed the pills, just a few more weeks the doctor said. We want you well again Christine."

I felt his lips on mine kissing me softly and slowly. I opened my mouth a little, and as I drifted off to sleep, I imagined Harry's tongue in my mouth, and his hand rubbing gently between my legs. I felt a little foggy for the next few days, a little weak, and I couldn't really string my thoughts together for any length of time. Harry did everything in that time, until I woke up one morning. 

"Come downstairs I've got a surprise for you."

I wrapped my dressing gown around me. I sat in the lounge watching the new telly.

"It was delivered today. I'll make you a drink. Oh Joey will be here this afternoon."

I felt better after I had a bath and got dressed. I sat watching the telly for an hour or so.

I felt Joey's eyes roll over my body as he looked down at me. Harry went off to make a coffee for him.

"So Christine, you have lost your memory, not all of it I hope?" he asked with a wink and a grin.

He dropped an envelope on the coffee table and sat back.

"Go on open it."

I pulled out 3 photos, 3 photos of me in a wedding dress stood next to Harry with a smile on my face. I just stared at them as Harry came back in. I looked up at my husband; this was all the proof I needed. Harry was my husband, and in the photos I had a big grin. There in one of them was my mother in the background. Even up until this point I wasn't convinced she was my mum. Maybe because she wasn't as I imagined, but then again nothing was.

"Harry asked me to bring them, I'm only sorry I don't have anymore." 

I was quiet for the rest of the day, Harry and his mate seemed to be enjoying themselves. I suppose all Harry had done lately was look after his ungrateful wife.

I went downstairs in the early hours of the morning. I stood at the tap in the kitchen.

"How would you like something stronger to drink, Chris?" 

I jumped and shrieked a little. I spun round pressing myself against the sink.

"Oh sorry, did I scare you?"

Joey waved the whisky bottle at me.

"No, I can't, I can't because of the medication." I stammered.

He poured some into the glass I was holding. I just stood there watching the water turn brown.

"There, I won't tell Harry," he said with a grin.

He pushed the glass up to my lips and I took a little sip.

"See it doesn't hurt. You might even remember something. I mean, you haven't like, totally lost your memory have you?"

I nodded as he tipped the drink up to my mouth again. His eyes looked black in the dark kitchen, and his thin lips turned up at the edges in a knowing smirk. He was the opposite of Harry, thin, very thin, with mousey coloured hair and eyes set close together. 

"I ought to go, go to bed, in case, um, Harry wakes up."

He took half a step closer to me. His eyes just flickered over my face. It was like he was trying to look deep into my soul. He scared me, he knew he did.

"So you don't remember sneaking down the hall into my room, when Harry was drunk? All that fun we used to have behind his back, you and me Chris."

I shook my head and moved sideways. He put his hand on my hip and held me still, firmly yet gently.

"I'll scream if you try anything," I mumbled.

He chuckled and dropped his hand.

"Don't worry honey; I've already been there, several times."

I took a deep breath, and then regretted it as his eyes watched my breasts rise in the tight dressing gown. 

"I don't believe you," I said with a gulp, as I put the glass on the draining board.

"No? What about that little diamond of moles on your right thigh, the inside of your right thigh, oh, and that red blemish just above your sweet pussy?"

I pushed past in and hurried to the foot of the stairs. When I looked back he was leaning against the door frame, grinning at me.

"I suppose you don't remember the gang bang, the day the rugby was cancelled either?" 

I rushed up the stairs to bed, not wanting to believe him. I found it hard to sleep, but eventually I dozed off, and woke up just after 9 o'clock. 




Amnesia Ch. 02



"Joey will stay and look after you; I've got to go into the office."

I raced after Harry as he went to the hall.

"You said you would take me with you, you promised," I whispered.

"Look the doctor said you should stay here. But Joey said he would take you shopping into town, he'll take care of you, and don't forget to take your pills."

"I've taken my bloody pills. Harry, don't leave me here." 

My last few words had been spoken to the back of the door. I took a deep breath and ran my hand through my messed up hair.

An hour later I discreetly tried to pull the hem of my skirt down a little, Joey just grinned as he drove into town. 

"Look, you don't really want to trail round the shops with me do you? We could meet up in a couple of hours?"

"Oh, and what sort of mate would I be if I left you alone? Harry would go up the wall if you lost your way back to the car."

"I'll stick to the shopping centre," I said with a gulp.

I watched his hand drop to my leg. I winced a little.

"Look the old Christine might do something for me. I mean, Harry was quite insistent that I didn't leave you alone."

His hand slid up my leg and he let his fingers run over the inside of my thigh. I watched his white hand glide on the black nylon. I grabbed his wrist as his hand started to push the hem of my grey skirt up.

"Maybe I had better stay with you," he said, pulling his hand away.

I just grabbed his hand and put it back on my leg, "no wait, please Joey just let me have some time to myself."

He unbuckled his seatbelt, and his right hand disappeared under my skirt. 

"We can't do anything here!" I gasped in shock, as I seized his hand again.

His eyes looked around the car park.

"I think we should wait, until we get home. It'll be more comfortable, and less hurried."

My heart raced as he seemed to be considering my option. He smiled at me and bent his head forward. I turned my head away, but I pulled his face into my neck. He groaned as he kissed me.

"Toss me off," he hissed, as he pulled down his zip.

I swallowed hard and felt my heart thump. He turned to me and kissed me on my mouth. His hand forced my skirt up and he squeezed between my legs. I put my hand on his chest, and my other hand stopped his fingers exploring my panties, and then I pushed him away. 

"Go on, if you want to meet up with one of your studs, huh, lost your memory, you're still a slut."

"I found his name in my handbag, with his number. Anyway, you'll find out what a slut I can be when we get home."

My hand wrapped around his cock and I started pumping him furiously. All I had to do was get him to shoot, and then I could be on my own for a while.

"Hey! I'm not like your old man. You are just going to have to work harder than that."

I felt him push my head down until his hot cock entered my mouth. He held me down as I gagged a little. I struggled to get my head up, but for some reason not that strongly.

"Oh forgotten how Chris?" he said with a chuckle, "hey, do you remember the taste?"

He held my head firmly as his hips thrust up slightly. I was sucking and pumping his cock for all I was worth now. In a few minutes I would be free to run. I wasn't sure where yet, but I had money and few ideas. 

"Oh you know that little gang bang we had, no you don't remember do you? Well you sure sucked and fucked like a real pro." he said chuckling

He started grunting and thrusting his hips. Hot spunk fired into my mouth with each pulse of his cock. I just let it dribble out, and down over his cock. He kept pumping and holding me until finally he let go of my head. I deliberately spat out over his trousers as he sat back with his eyes closed. 

"Hey, are you going to clean that up!" he snarled, after seeing the mess on his trousers.

I opened the car door and jumped out as he sat cleaning himself with a tissue. Before he could sort himself out I was in the lift of the multi-storey car park. I grabbed a tissue from my bag and spat into it as the doors closed. There he was running towards me, but too far away to stop me.



Amnesia Ch. 02



My thanks as always to Erik Thread for his thoughtful and helpful editing. Any errors, as usual, are mine.



It took several months, but John finally formalized his name, received a Social Security number, a driver's license and a bank card. He had piggybacked on Muriel's banking until he could establish his own. His date of birth was listed as August 12, 1965. He had chosen the date he awoke in the hospital as his birth date and decided he was, in fact, forty-two years old at that time. 

He had received sworn statements from Dr. Leacock from the hospital and Detective Polikoff that his claim was legitimate. They were co-signed by Muriel, Major Tom Matthews, and Mr. Leung as well. On July 4, 2008, John Doan was officially acknowledged as a resident of New York City in the United States.

He had amassed a reasonable amount in his savings account. His needs had been simple, his rent low and his social life almost non-existent. He told anyone around him that he was happy with his life, however. It was almost a year since he had awakened in hospital. 

Detective Martin Polikoff dropped in from time to time to see how his favorite amnesiac was getting on. They had become friends, with the policeman insisting his visits were unofficial. 

John stopped in regularly to see Tom Matthews and contribute funds in thanks for the help he had been given. He and Tom had become quite good friends as well, and it wasn't unusual to find Tom or Martin in Amnesia! around three o'clock on a weekday afternoon, sharing a draft or an iced tea with the cook.

It was just such an afternoon when John was sitting at the almost empty bar, chatting with Carl, the manager, and sipping a glass of iced tea. He became aware of someone moving to sit beside him and turned to see who it was.

"Afternoon, Martin. What brings you here?"

"I'm off duty and I wanted to drop in and see you. I was wondering how you were making out?" 

"What can I get you? It's on the house ... this time," John grinned.

"One of those looks good," he said, pointing to John's glass. "Thanks."

The two men talked and John brought the policeman up to date on his activities and his confirmation of a new identity. 

"I hope you're not here to mess up my life by telling me you know who I am now," John laughed.

"No ... no ... nothing like that. Actually, I'm here to ask a favor."

"Shoot!" 

"My son ... likes to cook. Wants to learn how ... you know ... what it's like in a proper kitchen. I was wondering if ... maybe you could show him what it takes. I don't mean teaching him. Just let him see what your day is like. If it's something he really wants to do, then I'll put up the money to send him to school to learn how." 

John nodded. "OK ... I can do that. What's his mother think?"

"I don't know. She and I are divorced. David, our son, has been a bit of a handful for her. I'm trying to help, but I usually only see him on weekends. He's eighteen and I don't want him ending up in trouble. I see too much of that every day. These kids think they're bulletproof and they aren't. Anyway ... I'd be grateful if you'd let him have a look at how a proper kitchen works."

"What makes you think mine is a good example," John laughed.

"Word of mouth, John. Word of mouth. This is my neighborhood, remember," he said with a slight smile. "Saturday be OK?"

"Sure. Bring him around about eleven-thirty before the lunch crowd arrives. That will give him a good look at mayhem in action. If he's still keen, he can have his dinner here and watch how different the evening crowd is. That should give him a pretty good idea."

"Terrific, and ... thanks. I'm hoping this will help. I told him about you, so he may ask some questions. I hope you don't mind."

"Nope. I'd be surprised if he weren't curious."

Promptly at eleven-thirty on Saturday morning, Martin and David Polikoff pushed through the doors of Amnesia! and asked for John at the bar. Carl was told to expect them and quickly informed John of their arrival.

David was quiet and polite as John was introduced. The youth smiled as he was presented with a white smock and hairnet, mandatory in the kitchen for all staff. Martin gave John his cell phone number, asking him to call when David had signaled he'd seen enough. 

As John was about to guide David to the kitchen, Martin caught his attention.

"Just something I forgot the other day," Martin said. He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a grainy, black and white photo of a woman. It had been taken by a security camera.

"Does this woman look familiar, John?"

John examined the photo carefully. At length, he handed it back to the detective. 

"No ... I mean ... it's not a really clear picture, but ... no ... I don't know her. There is something familiar about her, but ... I'm sorry ... I just don't know."

"OK ... she came into the station asking about a man about your age and description. She didn't have a picture and was pretty vague about why she was looking for him. I thought about you when the desk sergeant mentioned it."

John shook his head. "Nope. Wish I could help," he shrugged.

"No problem," Martin said, slipping the picture back into his vest pocket. "Give me a call when David's done," he smiled as he left.

David Polikoff's day went very well. He was fascinated by the organization needed to run a kitchen when orders were coming in so rapidly. John had provided him with a stool to sit on, more to keep him from getting under foot than anything, but David grasped the situation quickly and managed to stay out of everyone's way.

When the break came just after two that afternoon, John took off his tall, white chef's hat and wiped his face with a clean towel, then wrapped it around his sweat soaked neck. 

"Would you like a cola, David?" 

"Sure. I didn't realize how crazy it was in one of these kitchens at lunchtime," he remarked as they walked through the swinging doors into the tavern. David stood at the bar as John squirted cola from the dispenser into two large beer glasses half-filled with ice.

"You should see it on weekdays. Even crazier because everyone is trying to get their food between twelve and one." 

David just shook his head. "How do you do it?"

"Organization and experience. I couldn't do this right away. You just have to learn by doing and get a feel for how to handle the pressure points." John paused and looked at David. "So, what do you think?"

"It's amazing. I'd love to be able to do this like you do. But it's not all about knowing how to cook. Is it all right if I watch the dinner preparation?"

"Yep. I'll call your dad and let him know you want to stay. I'll get him to pick you up about eight, OK?"

David nodded. They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about what it takes to run a kitchen. Gradually the boy got around to the subject of John's amnesia.

"What's it like ... not knowing anything?"

"Well, I do know a lot of things. I know how to dress myself and tie my shoes and how to read and write, drive a car, and all the usual things you need to get along in the world. It's just that, for now, I don't remember my name or anything about my life before. It's like I landed from another planet and I didn't exist until I woke up in that hospital. Trust me, it was very scary."

"Do you think you'll ever get your memory back?"

"Yes ... most of the doctors and the books I've read say I should get at least some of it back. It's just a matter of time. In the meantime, I like what I'm doing, so I'm happy."

David nodded thoughtfully. 

At eight that evening, Martin Polikoff entered the bar and asked for John. In less than a minute, John and David emerged from the kitchen. 

"Thank you, John," the youth said sincerely.

"I hope you saw what you wanted to, David." 

"Yeah. It was great. I was really surprised. I had no idea. I thought it was just about cooking stuff. You should have seen it, Dad. It was amazing how much has to be done to run that kitchen." David's enthusiasm was evident.

"Well, I hope I didn't discourage you," John said.

"No ... it was exciting. I think this is what I want to do, once I learn how," the boy said, turning to his father.

Martin smiled and stuck out his hand to John. "Thank you. I appreciate what you've done," he smiled, with a hint of relief in his voice.

-0-

It was three-thirty on the following Tuesday afternoon when Martin Polikoff pushed through the doors of Amnesia! once more. John was sitting at a small table, reading the morning paper and sipping his usual iced tea.

"Afternoon, John," the detective said quietly.

John looked up in surprise. "Hi, Martin." John's face scrunched in curiosity. "Two visits in a week? What's up?" 

"You recognized her, didn't you?" Martin said quietly. 

John looked at him in surprise for a long moment, then let his breath out in a long, slow hiss. 

"How did you know?"

"Your eyes. I saw them react to the picture. It's what I do, John. Read people. Anything you want to tell me?"

"Not much to tell," John said, not looking at the policeman. "I know I've seen her, but I don't know who she is. I don't think that she's just an acquaintance though." 

"Why do you think that?"

"Afterwards ... just ... bad feelings. Unhappy stuff. Crap bouncing around in my head. Images. A sense of ... anger," he said, shaking his head. "I don't know how to describe it any better."

"When did you start to get some of these memories?"

"A month or so ago. Not sure what started it. Might have been someone I saw in the market when I was out shopping for the kitchen. Just the flash of a face ... it stuck with me."

"Male or female?"

"Female."

"Describe her." Martin pulled a notebook from his jacket pocket.

"Uhhhmmm ... dark short hair, narrow nose, puffy lips, longish neck, not much makeup I don't think." He had his eyes closed while he recited what he could remember.

"Have a look at this again." Martin handed the black and white photo to John.

"Could be ... it's not a great picture, but ... could be."

Martin nodded. "Thanks. You didn't see anything more than her head?"

"No. And it was only a glimpse. Just a second or two."

"Did she see you?"

"Don't know. She wasn't looking at me when I saw her."

"Hmmmph.  Anything else coming back to you? Anything you're not telling me?"

"No ... why? Don't you trust me?" John asked in surprise.

"You sensed trouble with these images, didn't you?"

"Yes ... at least ... that's the impression I got. But there's nothing tangible to grab onto. I don't have any idea what happened. I'm back where I was in the hospital," his voice tinged with frustration.

"No you're not. You've changed. You're not the same. For one thing, you aren't angry any more. You're more relaxed. More at peace with yourself. That's not the sign of a haunted or hunted man. For another, you got something to look forward to ... running this kitchen. Doing what you obviously enjoy. If someone's trying to find you, they're going about it in a strange way." 

John looked at him, his face a question mark.

"There's nothing straightforward about what happened to you. You once said that people just don't disappear with no one looking for them and for the most part, that's true. But if that woman, or others, are looking for you, they are being very cautious. In fact, it's more like they don't want you to know they are looking for you. They're just nibbling around the edges right now. I'm guessing they haven't spotted you in your home territory yet."

"Jeez, Martin. You make it sound like secret agent stuff."

"Maybe it is. Who's to say? But it gives me an idea. I think I'll call my friend at the F.B.I. and see if they have anything on you or our mystery woman. Your prints aren't on file according to them, but then they probably wouldn't tell me if you were one of theirs or acting for them."

"Just when I thought my life was perfect," John moaned.

"Don't get too uptight about it, John. Nothing's established yet. But, if anything else happens or you see anyone or anything that brings back those images, call me, please."

"Sure," he agreed, burying his head in his hands.

-0-

It was John's habit to take a break during his morning market excursions. He would chose one of the several small coffee shops in the market district and relax, either chatting with Muriel if she was with him, or reading the local paper if he was alone. His bags of purchases would be held for him to pick up when he left to return to Amnesia!.

On this particular September morning, he was outdoors, basking in the late summer sunshine and reading the paper. He was startled when the chair beside him was pulled out and a woman sat down, facing him. 

"Hello, Tony," she said, tentatively.

"Uhhhh mmmmy ... my name's ... John," he stammered.

"Really?" she said with an arched eyebrow. "All these years I've known you as Tony. Tony Milano."

"Oh ... well ... I ... don't know what to say." 

She sat, looking directly at him, her eyes not wavering from his. At last, she shook her head.

"Was our life that horrible that you had to run away?"

"I don't understand."

"You went to work one day and never came home. Am I that ... repulsive that you don't want to know me?" She didn't appear angry. More sad and uncertain.

"I don't think I can help you. I ... I lost my memory. I don't know who I am. Today ... I'm John Doan. It's a name I made up. It's my legal name now." His eyes were fixed on the woman.

She looked stunned ... shocked. She was blinking and soon, tears began to show.

"Are you telling me you don't know me?" 

"Yes ... I guess so. I mean, you are slightly familiar, but I don't know why."

The woman disintegrated before his eyes. The sobs were deep and wracking, her head now in her hands. John sat motionless, allowing the woman to regain her composure.

At length, the sobs subsided and she sat back in the chair. She gazed at him with a mournful look. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't expect you. I wasn't prepared for you," John apologized.

She nodded. "Can you tell me? Tell me what happened? Please?" 

"There isn't much to tell. I woke up in hospital. I had been injured ... head, leg, arm, ribs. I couldn't remember anything. I didn't have any I.D. on me. They found me unconscious beside the road. Luckily, I didn't get hit by another car or drown in a ditch. Some passers-by found me and called the police. That's about it." 

"I looked all over for you. I called the police, but they had nothing on you. I checked with the hospitals in Westport and here in New York. They didn't have anyone matching your description. I hired a private detective to find you, but he came up empty after six months. I lost all hope until I saw you by accident a few days ago in another market.

"I tried to catch you but you had gone by the time I got to where you were. I wasn't even sure it was you. You look so different. Your hair and your clothes," she paused. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It's been over a year," she paused again, shaking her head. "You look good, Tony." 

"You say my name is Tony? Where do I live? Where do I work? Tell me about ... me," he pleaded.

"You are Anthony Paulo Milano," she began hesitantly. "You are forty-four years old. Your birthday is December 11, 1963. You live at 67 Birchmont Lane, in Westport, Connecticut. We were married on May 12, 1988, in St. Alban's Presbyterian in Yonkers. We have three children. You are a vice president at Carbutt, Mellows and Davidson. They are investment brokers. 

"Several days after you disappeared, F.B.I. agents came to the house with a search warrant and took all your files and your computer with them. No one said anything and I couldn't get them to tell me if you were in trouble."

She had paused again, but John said nothing and waited for her to continue. 

"I ... wondered if the reason you had disappeared was because you had done something wrong. I didn't know and no one would tell me anything. I'm sorry, Tony ... I shouldn't have doubted you. I should have known you were too honest to do anything like that. But you were gone and no one could find you. I didn't know what to think." She was on the verge of tears again.

John sat quietly as she gathered herself. 

"Do you have a cell phone?" he asked.

"Yes ... do you want to use it?"

He nodded. "Please." 

She took it from her purse and handed it to him. He looked in his wallet for the card, then punched in the numbers.

"Detective Polikoff, please." He smiled reassuringly at the woman.

After a short pause, the familiar blunt voice, "Polikoff.".

"Martin, it's John. I think we may have the answer to my riddle. There's a woman sitting across from me who says she's my wife and that my name is Tony Milano. Can you meet with us at the tavern this afternoon?"

"Of course, John. Two-thirty too soon?"

"I'll see you then. Thanks," he signed off, snapping the phone closed and handing it back to the woman.

"You haven't told me your name," he smiled.

She looked shocked, but then recovered. 

"Nina. Nina Novak before we were married."

"And we've been married twenty years? And we have children?"

"Yes, two sons and a daughter. Benjamin is eighteen, going on thirty," she smiled. "Nadia has just turned sixteen and Jared is thirteen. They're all in school. Ben is living on campus at Cornell. Nadia and Jared are at private school in Westport. They still live at home." 

John leaned back, running his hands over his face and grimacing. 

"Nina, I want you to come with me if you can. I need to tell you about my life right now and then we need to figure some things out. The man I just called is Detective Martin Polikoff. He's been trying to help me find out who I am and what happened to me. Now that you're here, maybe you can help him figure out how I ended up in the hospital and what might have caused it. Can you do that?"

"Yes, of course. I want to help you any way I can, Tony. You're my husband," she exclaimed.

"Yes ... good. What about the children? Who's looking after them?"

"Our housekeeper, Mrs. Martinez. I'll call her and give her the good news. The children will be excited to hear I've found you." She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and was about to make a call when John's hand covered hers and the phone.

"I just thought of something. Don't tell her about me just yet. Don't tell anyone. Let's talk to Martin first before we say anything. We still don't know what happened to me. If it was someone out to get me, they may not know I'm still alive. Can you just tell her you're staying in town for the night?"

"Yes. I hadn't even thought about your being in danger. I'll call her and the children this afternoon when they are home from school and let them know I'm staying in town." The look on her face was one of concern. Danger? 

-0-



Amnesia Ch. 02



"Bend over some and let me taste those beautiful nipples."

With a big smile Alli bent over and offered me her tits to suck and snack on. Without missing a beat Alli kept working that fabulous cunt of hers up and down my shaft in long strokes. Those hard rubbery nipples were a joy to lick and suck on. 

I worked on first one then the other. I had one of her globes in my mouth and the other in my fondling hand. The sensations were starting to build in Alli as her fucking took on a new urgency. To add to the feelings, I was groping her ass with my free hand.

"Ohhh Lover, you really know how to play my body. I can feel another cum building." Alli said as she began to moan.

"Let me fuck you babydoll." and without waiting for a response I rolled us over in one quick motion so I was on top.

Now on her back Alli reached over her head and grabbed the head board. With her in this position, thoughts of the handcuffs from the previous night, and what I could do with them now ran through my head. I must remember that for another day.

"Fuck me good. I need to cum again." Alli was again looking past my eyes, staring into my sole. "Fuck my pussy good. Then fill me with your sperm. I want to feel your load inside my cunt."

I was pumping my cock into her until she said that. Now I pulled out till just the head of my dick was inside her. Then slowly fucked her with just the head popping in and out of her cunt. The tip of my cock parting her pussy lips and penetrating her over and over again. Fucking her like this I could feel the opening of her pussy grabbing the sensitive area just behind the head of my dick.

"Oh stop teasing me and fuck me good."

The next time I popped the head of my cock back into her cunt, I kept pushing slowly into her. I was now stroking her pussy with long slow strokes. Her pussy felt so good I wanted to use long strokes so I could feel every incredible inch.

"MMMMM! OHHHH YES THAT'S BETTER LET ME FEEL ALL OF YOUR COCK!"

As I began fondling her firm young globes again, she started to hump back at me. She was rolling her head from side to side, as I was now pumping her pussy hard again. I leaned over and held her head still with my hands as kissed her. Alli's eyes went wide and she moaned into my mouth.

"OHHHH  FUCK ME  FUCK ME  FUCKME!!!" Alli cried out "AHHHHRRAA  FUCK  FUUUCCKKKMEEEEE.!!!" 

Then her words became lost in constant moans as her orgasm washed over her body. Her spasming pussy was driving me now. I was slamming my hairless cock into her hairless cunt. We were filling the room with the smell of sex. We were filling the room with our cries of passion. We were filling the room with the squishing sounds of our sex. We were lost in each other. Lost in the moment. It was all too much for me.

"AAAAHHHHH  ALLI  HERE  IT  CUMS!"

I felt my cum pump up my shaft and shoot from my cock. Everything went silent as her silky pussy milked my throbbing cock. I lost track of time and forgot to breath as I continued to pump my load into her. 

I collapsed on top of her, completely spent. Both of us gasping for air. Even as our mutual orgasm was fading, her pussy was still quivering around my still throbbing dick. After a minute my dick started to soften an I rolled off her onto my back. We laid there in silence for a few minutes, just catching our breath. 

Alli broke the silence. "Tomorrow we're taking you to get a tattoo."

"Why do I need a tattoo?"

"I want 'The property of Alexis Martin. If found please return.' tattooed on your back incase you loose your memory again."

I laughed at her joke. For the first time, it didn't bother me too much that I didn't remember anything. For now, I was Alli's and that was enough. I drifted into a deep sleep with a smile on my face.



Amnesia Ch. 03



I took a deep breath as the lifted descended. For the first time I was on my own. I ran into the street, not really sure which way to go. I felt a little safer in amongst a crowd of people. Even though guys were staring at my tight pink jumper, and black nylon clad legs sticking out of my grey miniskirt. I gulped as I was whistled at, and cursed my lack of a more modest wardrobe.

I walked with my head down, feeling every step bounce my huge breasts around. I didn't dare look over my shoulder; I just didn't want to see Joey's face in the crowd.

I looked around and saw the sign I was looking for. I actually felt relief as I followed the directions. Then there it was in front of me, 5 stone steps up to the door. I quickly looked back down the road, I couldn't see Joey.

I walked up to the policeman stood behind the desk. Even he couldn't resist a glance at my nipples! I ignored it. My hard nipples were the least of my worries now.

"I, I think you've been looking for me, um, I think I'm Emily, the girl that was abducted."

"You think you're Emily?"

"Yes, only I don't know, I've well, I have amnesia," I said a little nervously.

"You have amnesia," he said raising his eyebrows.

I was getting angry with him, "look, are you going to repeat everything I say, or are you going to let me see someone with half a brain?"

"OK, Emily," he said with a grin.

He came back with a guy in a suit. He introduced himself as a detective or something.

"Look I've been suffering from amnesia. I, I think I've been abducted, I don't like my husband you see."

I know I was rambling, and not making much sense, but the looks they were giving me was just making things worse.

"So you think you are Emily Harrison, you don't sound like a yank."

"Maybe they've brain washed me, the doctor and my husband."

He nodded, "I see, so they took away your American accent?"

I watched as he looked at the other policeman in the uniform.

"Well they might have done, they can do things like that, I think," I mumbled, "I've been abducted, my husband isn't my husband, and I don't fancy him."

He put a picture down on the desk in front of me, I just stared at.

"OK, look at that face, now I'm trying to work out, Emily, how the hell they changed you from black to white!"

I jumped as he slammed his hand down on the table.

"Get her out of here," he snarled.

The policeman grabbed my arm and marched me outside.

"Don't come back lady we haven't got time for this."

"Wait, I might be someone else." I panted.

"Yeah, try Elvis we usually get 2 or 3 a week, bloody nutcase," he mumbled.

I watched him go back into the police station. I really thought I was Emily, well I suppose I hoped more than anything. So now what?

I walked back to the shopping centre. Realising I would just have to face facts. I was Christine Trent whether I liked it or not.

"God where have you been Chris, find him did you?"

I shook my head as Joey took me back to the car. I never had a phone number in my handbag; in fact I didn't have anything that you could call personal, just a purse with about £50 in it. But no credit cards, not even a single store card. I sat in silence most of the way home. My mind raced with everything and nothing. Every question turned over 10 more, even when I got the answers if I didn't like them, I refused to accept them.

I stood in my bedroom as Joey kissed my neck from behind. His hand went up my pink top and into my bra. He panted heavily in my ear as he squeezed my massive tits.

"Christ, Christine they are incredible," he moaned. 

I pulled away from him and lifted my top over my head. I turned looking him in the eye as I dropped my bra. His face lit up when my hard brown nipples came into view.

So why was I going to have sex with this thin, and not particularly handsome man? Well I don't know either! Maybe the old Christine was getting her own way. Could this really happen? I mean, I've lost my memory. Can it possible for how I was before to take over my head without me knowing it? Surely I couldn't just turn into the tart I was, and not remember doing it in the past?

All I did know was that feeling his lips on my nipples, had my pussy dripping like a tap! My fingers frantically tugged at his trousers. My whole body was shaking with lust, it just was!

I dropped to my knees and pushed his trousers down. I wrapped my hand around his cock, and just plunged my trembling hot mouth over it. Wanting sex just seemed to flow through me. If this was how I felt in the past then maybe it would explain my craving now!

"God you are even worse than before," Joey panted.

I looked up at him feeling embarrassed by his words. He just smiled down at me with a real smug grin. I just went back to sucking and licking him. I felt my wet pussy pulsing in my sticky panties. I pulled my skirt up and squeezed my free hand against my pussy. 

"You like that huh, you like sucking on cock you randy tart?"

"Tell me what I was like before the amnesia, tell me?" I begged.

I plunged back on his dick and sucked frantically.

"Oh you were really bad. The day the rugby was cancelled there you were in that hot pink dress. As soon as Harry went you started flirting."

He pushed me on my back on the bed. I felt him yank my skirt right off. I suppose what he said must have been true, judging by my craving now. I just felt this need deep within me. I knew in my head this was wrong, but it just didn't seem to matter. I wanted sex and I wanted it now! 

"Fuck, have you pissed yourself?"

"I'm just horny," my trembling voice replied, "tell me more about me, please?"

He grinned down at me, as he grabbed my tights and panties and started pulling them off.

"You started playing twister, on your own. We sat spinning the dial and you laughed and giggled. That little pink dress kept slipping up your legs, you loved it."

He pushed his cock into me and I cried out. He was bigger than my husband, and something somewhere longed for a good seeing too!

"God, you sucked me in!" he gasped in surprise.

"Tell me about the game," I whimpered, wrapping my legs around his back.

"Your dress went up round your waist. You just gave a dirty little giggle as we all saw your naked pussy. You poured champagne over your pussy, and then you begged for someone to lick it off."

Joey was rolling himself in me in a slow measured fashion. I was so hot I just wanted frantic fucking.

"You picked on Martin; you started on about his fat wife. You had your fingers up your pussy. You teased him, daring him to fuck you in front of everyone. He was so angry and turned on he lunged forward. He pinned you down and you laughed, even when he, he swore at you and shoved his cock in you, you laughed!"

Joey pulled his cock out and I looked down. I couldn't believe how wet his dick was, nor could he!

"Fuck! God you are really fucking dirty, look at that dripping off my prick!"

He slammed it into me and started humping me really fast. I loved it; I wanted it faster and harder. I kicked my heels into his ass.

"Martin didn't last long, in fact he was still shooting, when, when, we pulled him out," he panted.

"You all fucked me didn't you?" I gasped, as I clung to his back.

"Yeah we all did, several fucking times!" he yelled.

I could feel my orgasm roll through my pussy. My nipples felt so bloody hard and they just tingled, like little electric shocks pulsing through them. 

"It's a shame you don't remember, but afterwards, afterwards you still wanted more!"

I screamed and I shuddered, I kicked and I swore. I even tried fucking him as his thrusts died down. 

Was this me? Was this the only thing that jumped from the old me to the new me? Was I the slut I used to be?

My whole body lay panting in a sea of sweat. Joey was by my side panting with his eyes closed. He got up a few minutes later.

"Joey, what am I going to do?" I said, as tears ran down my face.

He just looked at me and shook his head.

"Leave or stay I guess, but where would you go? At least you are safe with Harry, well off I mean."

I went downstairs after having a bath. 

"I should divorce him shouldn't I? If I'm really that bad I should leave him. God I really don't know why I was so horny. Please don't tell Harry," I mumbled ashamed.

"No don't worry. Anyway, if you divorce him you won't get a penny. Do you really want to lose all that money? The only way you get anything is if he divorces you. Why do you think you pushed him so far in the first place? You fucked around to get him to divorce you."

"God what sort of a bitch was I?"

"A money grabbing bitch, he knew he wasn't stupid."

"But why did he marry me if he knew that?" I cried.

"Harry thought he could tame you, he thought eventually you would grow to love him. He just didn't count on how far you would push him."

"I should leave, for everyone's sake," I mumbled.

"Yeah and where would you go?"

"I don't know, but there must be someone I can turn to, isn't there?"

"Hell I don't know. What about Ray?" he said after a few moments.

"Who is Ray?" I asked.

"The guy you were going to run off with, Jessica's ex-husband?"

I stood in the kitchen washing up. Harry and Joey were in the lounge drinking beer. They were laughing and joking. I didn't know which one of us was worse, a cheating wife, or a cheating friend! I took my pills and went to bed early. 

"Are you a sleep?" Harry whispered.

"No," I mumbled, "Harry, will you fuck me?"

He moved between my spread legs. This was my attempt to find out my true feelings for my husband, that might sound a little strange, but I hadn't really given him much of a chance. The only thing that ran through my head was I shouldn't be with him. If I was the money grabbing slut that I was now coming to think I was, then surely I would find out now? Besides Harry had been so kind to me, maybe he deserved better anyway.

I rolled my hips trying to get into it. His cock was smaller than Joey's and I just wished he'd take a little more of his weight. Still I rode it out and I was wet. I smiled up into his eyes, I tried I really did! I groaned a little.

"Shush, you'll wake Joey," I whispered, as he grunted harder.

"So, so what, I bet he knows we are fucking anyway, I bet he's listening."

"God Harry, don't say that," I hissed in his ear.

"Why not Christine, you usually liked to think he was listening, it turned you on."

I thought about what he said. I swallowed a little.

"It turns you on doesn't it? Fucking your wife with your best mate listening, and wishing he could have me?"

I could feel him hold his breath slightly. Then he panted in my ear. I moved my legs around his hips. He started to grunt and fuck me faster. 

"Look whatever I've done in the past, I'm sorry."

"So, you don't remember, you don't remember what we did before either?"

"What did we do Harry?" I asked softly.

"Think back to the pub, think back to the waiter, and what we did in front of him."

"Yeah, I'm thinking," I grunted, feeling my nipples start to tingle.

"We used to like teasing men, together," he panted.

"How far did we go?"

He looked into my eyes, almost like he was trying to work out if I could take his answer.

"You flashed at them, you were always doing it, oh fuck!"

"No not yet, please Harry?"

I wanted it too, but Harry just couldn't hold on. 

As I lay in bed listening to him snore, I still didn't know if I loved him or not! Letting him fuck me had proved nothing, well apart from his lack of stamina. I suppose fucking up my pills earlier might have something to do with my recent behaviour, and my head being fuzzy. Then again, would it have something to do with me jumping on Joey too? That was it the pills were going down the sink, Harry never watched me take them, not like he did at first. If he and the doctor were drugging me for some reason, then surely it wouldn't do any harm not taking them? Fuck no why couldn't I just accept things! I was a slut before the amnesia; the pills wouldn't make any difference. I just had to realise I am what I was, I think? 

"The insurance guy is coming today, he has a few questions about the fire," Harry said.

We sat there listening to him. He explained he was under instructions (due to the amount of money involved) to spend another few weeks investigating the fire. He assured us things would be fine. 

"Why don't you see him out Christine?"

When I got to the door he thrust his card in my hand.

"Look, I'll come back tomorrow with the forms, then when your husband goes to work we'll talk," he whispered, "You could be in big trouble."

"What?" I asked with a gasp.

"Look I must speak to you Christine, don't tell your husband though. I know you have amnesia but trust me, I am your only hope."

The serious expression was worrying me. He looked intense and focused. I nodded. He smiled, turned, and left.

I stood behind the front door quaking. Maybe I should run after him and beg him to take me with him. What did he know? Maybe Harry had burnt the house down; maybe I was supposed to have been trapped inside. My god, my husband wanted to kill me!

I sat between Harry and Joey in the pub. Was Joey involved in this too? Sometimes they would whisper when I was in the kitchen. Why? What didn't they want me to know?

I went to the bar as Joey and Harry played pool behind the dividing wall. 

"Hello sweetheart, remember me?"

I gulped as his eyes dropped to my nipples. I ignored him, and his dirty grin.

"Are you wearing stockings or tights sweetheart. You ought to come to the shop, we've got some sexy hold ups in."

I gulped and took the change from the barman. I could smell the whisky breath as the shopkeeper moved nearer. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. Every woman's nightmare was stood by my side, a drunk leering pervert!

"So, is hubby a wimp then? Does he want to watch his wife with his mate? Oh stockings," he said with a dirty chuckle.

I froze to the spot as his hand groped lightly up my black and white check miniskirt. I shuddered as his hand trailed over my lacy stocking tops. My legs were shaking as he continued to touch me up. I wanted to move but then again I didn't! His hand left my leg for a second, but when I didn't complain it went back again.

"Well, it seems to me you like this sort of thing," he continued as his mouth moved close to my ear, "a pretty little thing like you married to him. Oh what a hot little ass you've got sweetheart, I bet that sees plenty of action tonight."

I could feel my face glowing red as I stood my ground. The landlord just watched me with an amused grin. Fuck! Why did I just stand there!

"I bet you can't wait to get him home can you eh? Three in a bed turn you on sexy? I've seen your sort on the sex sites, bored fucking housewife," he hissed, and then made kissing noises.

Finally I stumbled away as his hand squeezed my ass hard. My legs trembled on my 5 inch heels. My heart pumped more blood in those brief seconds, than a dam would have done water! I took the pints over for Harry and Joey. I must have spilt ½ an inch out of both. I gulped as I dared myself to turn round. We made eye contact and he grabbed his crotch suggestively through his jeans.

I sat there not daring to look in his direction again. My little red panties felt soaked. I cursed myself for staying there letting him grope me. The shopkeeper now knew what a tart I was. But I wasn't, that was the old Christine! I gulped and swallowed my wine. No, no that was me, I was the tart I just didn't like the idea. My soaked panties didn't lie, did they? 

I sat there as they played another game. I looked at my empty wine glass. So much for not drinking with my pills, Harry didn't try and stop me drinking. Why didn't he? My empty wine glass was drawing me to it again. 

I felt several pairs of eyes watch my legs, as my heels clanked on the wooden floor. I stood at the bar again this time the other side of the shopkeeper. My breasts were rising and falling deeply. The barman too now seemed to be taking more of an interest in me. 

"Can I get that for you then, sweetheart?"

I felt the drunken shopkeepers hand up my skirt again. I cringed but allowed him his fun. The landlord smiled at my nipples, as he put the large glass of wine in front of me. I stumbled forward half a step as the shopkeeper's finger wormed into my stocking tops. I picked up my glass and threw the wine in his face. 

His hand pulled out of my stocking, and before he could say or do anything, the landlord had his arm in a grip on the bar.

"Don't Thomas, you have had your fun," the landlord hissed quietly.

"I'll get you for that slut," he spat in my ear.

I walked away and back to the pool table. Harry and Joey were concentrating on their game; they couldn't really see much of the bar, and they hadn't noticed what had happened. 

I went to bed with Harry feeling drunk and a little strange. I couldn't stop thinking about the shopkeeper. Harry was soon in a drunken sleep, but I wanted sex!

I played over and over in my head what Thomas, the shopkeeper had done. That was why I went back to the bar again. I wanted his hands up my skirt; I wanted his insinuations about my husband and Joey. I wanted to hear more of the same. But as I stood there something came to me, an image flashed through my mind, a little girl was riding on her bike, a little girl with her father. The father had blonde hair and so did his laughing daughter. She was trying to ride her bike without stabilisers for the first time. Was this my first memory of who I really was? It just flashed in my head for a few seconds. Maybe now more memories would come flooding back. That was if it wasn't trick?

I heard Joey moving about. I saw the landing light go on, and then the shadow of his feet passed the other side of my bedroom door. I glanced at Harry for awhile, he was snoring lightly.

So there I stood at the sink again. Joey handed me a whiskey, I took a sip as he dropped to his knees. He opened my dressing gown exposing my naked body underneath. My hands gripped his hair as his tongue flicked over my clit. I held the whiskey glass to my lips, just so the aroma would filter up my nose. 

I didn't care if Harry came down the stairs now. If he caught us together, so what! Maybe he would like it; maybe he was the cuckold Thomas had suggested? 

My ass was up on the sink now. Joey had taken the glass from me and had pushed his cock into me. He was fucking me frantically, and I was groaning with such enthusiasm. He was hammering really fast, and I just shuddered to a body quaking orgasm. As I came down I started pushing against him, I shoved on his chest. He beat my hands away and pinned them behind my back. I gave in then I let him get what he wanted. 

I grabbed my dressing gown and shoved past him. He pulled me back and thrust his tongue in my mouth. He held me tightly as I fought, until I started kissing him back.

I walked away from him when he finally let me go. Just a few steps, and then I turned and went back to him. I kissed him hard. I stepped back annoyed by his grinning eyes.

He started rubbing his cheek from the slap I had delivered, and then his grin returned.

I sat on the loo hugging myself. I couldn't understand how I had just cheated on my husband yet again!

The following day I waited for Mr Dixon the insurance man to turn up. My mind was still a mess with thoughts of my father, if that was what I had last night at the bar. Mr Dixon seemed to spend a few minutes with Joey as Harry got ready for work, then they both looked at me and Dixon nodded. I tried to get him alone but Joey pulled me back so I couldn't talk to him before he left. Harry stayed until Mr Dixon had left, and then my husband went to the office. He was annoyed that we couldn't have our insurance money for another few weeks; well I think that's what troubled him. 




Amnesia Ch. 03



My continuing thanks to Erik Thread for his skillful and insightful editing. He helps make this a much better and readable story. He is a very patient man. Any errors are, of course, mine.



Martin Polikoff pushed into the tavern just before two-thirty that afternoon, rushing through a late summer downpour. He spotted John and the woman sitting in the far corner of the room, away from everyone else. 

"Thanks for coming, Martin," John said, rising from his seat. "This is Nina Milano. She's from Westport, Connecticut. She's pretty sure she's my wife," he grinned.

Martin held out his hand and smiled at the woman. She was nervous. The first thing to do was confirm her identity.

"Mrs. Milano, I've been working with John since he woke up in the hospital and we've been having no luck at all establishing his identity until you came along. Please understand that I'm not here to interrogate you, but the circumstances surrounding John's case reek of foul play. I'm a cop. I'm naturally suspicious, so excuse my questions if they sound like I don't believe you. I need to be certain of the facts. Understood?"

"Yes ... understood," the woman said, calming down.

"The first thing I'm going to need is some proof that you are who you say you are. Pictures of you and John together would be very helpful. References that identify John and you together. Family photos would be good. Particularly older ones. Can you do that?"

"Yes ... I'm sure I have a hundred of photos of us together. I have his passport with his picture too. When do you want them?"

"I'd like to send someone to your home to get them as soon as possible. When will you be returning?"

"I don't know. Tomorrow, I suppose," she said, looking to John.

"Fine. I'll have someone from the Westport police drop by and pick them up. If anyone asks, we're still searching for John ... Tony, I mean. Please don't tell anyone you've been in touch with Tony. We still don't know what's going on and we have to be careful."

"Of course. Tony said the same thing. I won't mention this to anyone," she promised.

"I have another question. Why did you come to the precinct station to ask about your husband and not give them any details?"

"I don't understand." 

Polikoff produced the picture taken by the security camera. "Isn't this you?"

Nina examined it carefully. "Yes, it does look like me. But, I was never in a New York City police station. I know I called several people in the N.Y.P.D., but I never did go to see anyone. I couldn't get anyone interested in looking for Tony. I had the Westport Police fax them their missing person's report. That's as far as I ever got." 

The detective sat looking at the woman, studying her face and her reactions as she talked. 

"If it's not you ... then who is it?" 

The woman shrugged, not looking at the detective. He decided to carry on.

He spent the next ninety minutes talking to Nina and Tony. The questions were largely directed at Nina. He asked her about her husband's background and where they came from. 

When he had explored all his avenues of investigation with the woman, he once again apologized for grilling her. Nina smiled her understanding, claiming she was grateful for his thoroughness and willingness to help. She admitted that she hadn't expected to find Tony, but by pure luck she had discovered him in the outdoor market.

Tony had remained silent for the most part, concentrating on the detective's questions and Nina's answers. When the interview was concluded, he slumped back in his chair, letting out a long sigh. The meeting had been very intense. 

After Polikoff had left, John turned to Nina.

"Have you got a place to stay tonight?" 

"Yes. I booked into a hotel uptown." She studied him for a moment. "Are you going to stay with me tonight?" It was a hopeful question.

"No. I'm sorry, but I'm not ready for that. Today has been a big shock and I don't think it would be a good idea just yet. I'd like you to go home tomorrow and find the pictures that Martin wants. I'll call you. I have a new life here and I can't just abandon it." 

"But Tony ... you're my husband. I need you back with me, in our home, with our children. Don't you want that?"

"Of course, but ... it's not that simple. Give me some time to work this out, Nina. You've found me now, so you can stop worrying about that. But I have a lot of lost memories to recover. It isn't as simple as just going back to my old life and picking up where I left off. There are too many gaps ... too many things to learn. I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you, but ...." He stopped, gazing at the woman before him. 

"I guess I understand, Tony. But ... please ... please ... come home soon. I need you. We need you. We'll help you remember. I promise," she begged.

He nodded. "Just give me a chance to get a grip on things. We don't know if I'm still in danger - and that would mean that if I'm in Westport, you and the children might be in danger too. I can't let that happen." 

She sighed and closed her eyes, covering her mouth with her hand. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She nodded her understanding. It may not have been what she wanted, but she appeared to understand.

-0-

Detective Sergeant Martin Polikoff phoned Muriel Bartlett's apartment promptly at eight the next morning, almost asking for Tony before remembering to call him John. 

"Good morning, Martin. I expected your call."

"Yeah. So tell me ... what's changed?"

"I've begun to get more of my memory back. It was happening throughout the day, especially when you were interviewing Nina. I have a lot of new information for you. I was going to call you to set up a meeting. There's a lot you need to know."

"Does Nina know?"

"No. And that's intentional. I'll explain when I see you. This afternoon OK with you?"

"Yeah ... sure ... two-thirty?"

"See you then," Tony said, signing off.  

Martin arrived at two-fifteen. Tony smiled as his friend entered the tavern. 

"I didn't think you'd be late." 

"I've been waiting a long time for this. I brought my pocket recorder. I don't want to miss anything." 

"Well ... where to begin. First things first. My name is Anthony Milano, but almost everyone calls me Tony. I am forty-four years old, and my birthday is December 11th. I am married to Nina Novak and I do have three children. I have a home in Westport, Connecticut and I am financially very well off. I have a summer home on Nantucket Island and we vacation in the Caribbean in winter. 

"I am Vice President of Carbutt, Mellows and Davidson ... or at least I was when I was last there." He paused at that point. 

"So far, that confirms what Nina told us yesterday."

"Yeah ... well ... that's where it gets interesting," Tony said, pausing again. He seemed to be gathering himself.

Martin sat quietly, waiting for his friend to continue.

"Nina and I ... we weren't getting along that well in the last year or so. I was working hard and had a lot on my mind, and I guess I wasn't paying very much attention to her. I began to wonder if maybe she was falling out of love with me. Maybe even having an affair. Anyway, I hired a private detective to find out if she was cheating on me. I didn't have the time or the energy to fight with her about it. I just wanted to know, and I could make up my mind what to do about it when I found out."

"So, what did you find out?" 

"Nothing. He said there was no evidence that she was having an affair with anyone ... male or female."

"So, now you know she wasn't cheating."

"Yeah. I'm not surprised, I guess. That wouldn't be like her. If she'd had enough of me, she'd have said so and we'd have split."

"What did you do with the report?"

"I scanned it into my computer. Unfortunately, Nina told me the F.B.I. has taken it along with all my business and personal files."

"OK, I'll check with my contact at the bureau and see what I can find out about your computer." 

Tony nodded. "Thanks ... I'm going to have to explain it to them anyway. I'm sure they've found my buried files on what was going on at CM&D. It's one of the reasons I'm sure someone is out to get me." 

"You better explain."

"Yeah, I guess I better," Tony sighed. "About six months before my 'accident,' I started to get the feeling that something was going on at the company that wasn't kosher. I was seeing trades that didn't make sense and they were being handled by the same guys. So, on my own, I decided to have a look at what was happening, intending to report to the president if I found some irregularities. 

"What I found was something that was hard to believe. Three of the senior V.P.'s were running a scam on a raft of small and medium sized investors, and the numbers were staggering. When I started to put the facts together, it ran to over half a billion dollars. It knocked me flat. I had no idea this had been going on," he paused.

"Who were these guys?"

"Conrad Blyer, Elliot Stainsby and Aaron Mahon. They are all long-timers at the firm."

"What did you do?" 

"I did what I thought was the right thing. I got a meeting with the president, Stanton Mellows, and told him what I had uncovered. He was pretty upset with me ... thinking I had to be wrong. When I finally convinced him that I was serious, he said he'd handle it. He said he didn't want me implicated and he was sweating about bad publicity."

"Did that sound right to you?"

"No. It didn't. The very first thing you do in a situation like this is call in the S.E.C. or the law. You can't bury five hundred million dollars. I decided to cover my ass. I called a contact I had at the S.E.C. and told him of my suspicions, but I didn't have any hard proof to show him. I promised him I'd get back to him when I had something. That's the last I remember. A couple of days later, I was in hospital, wondering who I was. Except, it wasn't a couple of days. It was weeks. That's it." 

"You know what the implications of this are, don't you?"

"Sure ... the president could be in it up to his neck."

"That's what it looks like. In fact, if I checked with my F.B.I. contact, I'll bet he and the three V.P.'s are under investigation. I doubt charges have been laid yet, but they would probably be facing some serious time if charged and convicted. You would be a key player in their trial."

"You think they tried to get rid of me?"

"That's the way it's starting to look. They probably wouldn't do it themselves ... they'd hire someone to do the dirty work," Martin sighed. "Do you know what they did with the money?"

"Not that I can remember. I'm still trying to pull all the pieces together. I imagine it's in some offshore account. The Caymans or something like that. It'll be on my computer if I did know."

Martin leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. "What to do ... indeed," he said to no one in particular.

-0-

Polikoff picked up the phone on his office desk and punched in the number. "Frank Lafayette, please."

After a minute, there was a response. "Lafayette here," came the slightly accented voice.

"Jesus, Frankie, you still sound like some redneck from Baton Rouge," Martin laughed.

"Yeah ... well you still sound like some Polak from Brooklyn," the man shot back.

"Hah! Well, enough of these warm heart-felt greetings. I got a problem and I need to talk to someone I can trust at the Bureau. You game?"

"Yeah, I suppose. What's this about?"

"You remember me checkin' on a John Doe that turned up in the hospital last year. No I.D., but didn't look like street people?"

"Yeah ... I recall somethin' about it," the man answered, still sounding cautious.

"I gotta name for him now and it's big. I need to talk to you before the shit hits the fan. Your people are going to want him bad. He's a whistle-blower on a big-time scam. I don't want the poor bastard trampled by the powers that be, you get me?"

"OK. Let's meet somewhere and you can spell it all out. Then, maybe ... maybe I can help," the agent said with emphasis on the maybe.

"How about Lorenzo's at seven. I know you like his Cajun Shrimp Fettuccini," Martin laughed.

"Yeah ... the best of both worlds ... Pasta and Cajun. See you there."

Polikoff was waiting for Lafayette at a booth in the back of his favorite Italian trattoria. The big man entered the restaurant and went directly to the table where Martin was sitting. They had met here before. 

Francis 'Frank' Lafayette was huge; six foot five and bordering near three hundred pounds. He loved to eat and it showed. His gut hung precipitously over his belt. His sport coat was open and Martin doubted it could be buttoned. 

Frank was a trusted contact in a very untrustworthy environment. Interdepartmental feuding between the N.Y.P.D. and the F.B.I. was legendary, especially at the top end. Political visibility counted as much as catching the bad guys.

Frank eased himself into the booth, reaching out to shake Martin's offered hand. 

"We haven't been here since that last time we were running the local 'Wise Guy' wannabes off," Martin smiled.

Frank nodded. "Yeah. It's been a while." 

They exchanged catch-up information on their personal lives for a few minutes. The waiter took their order for a beer and their meal. It was time to get down to the heart of the matter.

"John Doe is probably a guy named Anthony Milano. That ring any bells?" Martin asked.

"Nope. But that's not a surprise. You said he was a whistle-blower. Those names don't get knocked around the department unless they make the papers first."

"He's a V.P. at Carbutt, Mellows and Davidson. Does that help?"

"Yeah. I know there's an ongoing investigation about a big scam, but not much more. Where does Milano fit?"

"He figured out what was going on and went to the president to let him know. The next thing he knows, he's waking up in the hospital and can't remember who he is or anything else. That was a year ago. I ran the trail as hard as I could in my spare time. The guy's a good guy and I was trying to help. I kept comin' up empty. Then ... a couple of days ago, this woman shows up out of the blue, sits down with him and tells him she's his wife."

Martin paused to let Frank get a mouthful of pasta.

"She legit?" Frank asked, still working on the pasta.

"So far. I'm working on getting some proof, but I don't get any feeling that she's trying to run a con. They live in Westport and I've got the locals picking up some stuff from her to prove what she claims. He's nervous about her, but ... I don't know. I don't get any bad vibes from her. The only strange thing I gotta tell you though ...," he paused. 

"A woman that looks just like her came into the precinct a couple of months ago and was asking about someone who might be her husband. She didn't leave her name and she didn't have a picture. The desk sergeant remembered my looking into the John Doe thing and he told me about her. I got the security camera photo and showed it to our guy. He reacted to it, but said he didn't know who it was. Just someone that looked familiar. Anyway ... she plops herself down in front of him the other day, and he says that it's starting to come back to him now."

"You suspicious?"

"Well ... normally ... yeah. Except the first person he calls is me. And he spills out this story about the stealing going on at his company. On top of that, when we found this guy, it looked like someone had tried to whack him and screwed it up. He says he still can't remember anything about what happened that day. His wife, if that's who she is, says he went to work just like he usually did and never came home." Martin stopped and leaned back, finishing the last of his beer.

"You show the wife the picture?"

"Yeah. Claims it isn't her. Never been in a precinct house, she claims."

"What do you think?"

"Maybe just a look-alike. Don't know. If the wife checks out, we'll have another mystery on our hands," Martin mused.

Frank Lafayette sat quietly, digesting both the food and the information.

"Witness protection?" Frank asked quietly.

"That's what I'm thinkin'."

There was another silence as Frank also leaned back, signaling the waiter for two more beers. Martin sat silently, waiting as his friend was thinking.

"You know this case is big news right now, right?" Frank finally asked.

"Figures. Big money, big glory," Martin snorted.

"You got it." Another pause. "You say the wife is in Connecticut?"

"Yeah ... Westport. They have three kids, one upstate in Cornell and the other two in Westport private schools."

"How much of his memory has he got back?"

"Hard to say. He still doesn't remember what happened the day he disappeared, but he remembers diggin' up the shit on the company guys and loading it all onto his computer. He said he had a contact at the S.E.C. and he gave them a 'heads up' just before it all went black."

"I take it we've got the computer?"

"According to the wife, yeah. I'm sure that's what would have tipped your people. He said there's some encrypted files buried in there that have the evidence on what they were up to."

"If it was there, we'd find it," Frank said matter-of-factly. "What about the S.E.C. guy?"

"Don't know. Thought I'd talk to you first. My concern isn't the money. This guy, whoever he is ... John Doe or Tony Milano ... he's a good guy. I'm trying to keep him from gettin' hurt. You know how things work, Frankie. The big boys don't give a shit about who gets burned along the way as long as they get credit for the collar." 

"I wish I could say you were wrong, but ...," the big man paused. "Let me see what I can find out. In the meantime, you got this guy chilled?"

"Hiding in plain sight right now. Nobody's touched him in the last year, so unless the wife is out to do him, he should be OK."

"And you think the wife's OK?"

"I sure as hell hope so. John ... or Tony ... has been careful. She was told both by him and me not to let anyone know she'd found him. Anyone includes the kids, the housekeeper, family ... anyone. She doesn't know where he lives yet, so I'm keepin' an eye on him and his place to make sure someone isn't following him."

Frank nodded. "Not much else to do, but stay close to him. We wouldn't want anything to happen to him. I'll call you tomorrow. See if you can get the name of the S.E.C. guy from your friend. Thanks for the meal," he grinned.

"Shit ... how did I know that was going to happen?" 

"What the hell, Marty. I got a wife and five kids to support. You don't even have alimony payments any more. You should be grateful," he laughed.

Martin threw down two twenties as they walked out of the restaurant onto the sidewalk, shaking hands and going in opposite directions.

-0-

Nina handed over the pictures, the passport, and a copy of their marriage license to the plain-clothes police officer. All of it was in a sealed manila envelope with Martin Polikoff's name on the front. The officer thanked her and left without opening the envelope. 

She opened her cell phone and called the detective on his cell.

"I gave the officer the envelope. It was sealed with your name and precinct number on it." 

"Good. Exactly what I wanted you to do. Thank you. Has anyone tried to contact you?"

"No. I'm going to call Tony. I want to keep in touch with him now that I've finally found him. Is that OK?"

"Yes, but don't use your home phone and make sure no one hears you. Understood?"

"Of course! I don't like all this secrecy, you know. I hate that I have to keep this from my children and family." 

"I'm sorry about all this, Nina," Martin said quietly. "I know it's hard on you. But, it's about making sure you and Tony and the children are safe. We just don't know enough to take any chances for now. Just bear with us for the next little while. I've got some people trying to help. I'm hoping I'll have something for you soon. OK?"




Amnesia Ch. 03



"Yes, detective. I understand."

"It's Martin, Nina. Trust me. We'll do everything we can to get you and Tony back together again. We just have to make sure you're safe."

"Thank you, Martin. I'm ... sure you're doing everything you can. I'm grateful. Thank you," she said finally.

As she closed the phone, she slumped into the living room chair. 

-0-

Detective Martin Polikoff walked into Amnesia at two that afternoon. He had missed Tony that morning after talking to Nina. He'd waited until the noon rush was over to talk to him about the S.E.C. contact and anything more that he might have remembered. 

Carl nodded to Martin and moved toward the swinging doors leading to the kitchen. A moment later Tony appeared, wiping his brow with a towel and acknowledging the detective. He poured himself an iced tea and sat with Martin.

"Do you remember the name of the S.E.C. contact you had?" 

"Yes, Carter Woolman," Tony answered promptly.

"How well do you know him?"

"I don't know him very well, but I remember talking to him about my suspicions. He was very interested, but couldn't do much without some evidence or a formal complaint. I guess that's all taken care of now. I'm pretty sure the evidence I have on my computer will give them all the stuff they need to prosecute."

"Yeah ... well ... I think he must have said something to the F.B.I. I'm assuming that's why they came to your house and took your computer. They're going to take precedence here. My guy tells me they are building a solid case against the three guys you identified and they're throwing in the president for good measure. It might also interest you to know that the F.B.I. assumes you are dead and that your colleagues hired someone to 'off' you. They're going to add murder to the charges and see who cracks first."

"Jesus ... murder! They think I'm dead?"

"Yeah. That's not a bad thing for right now, but we've got to play this carefully. We're not going to let the F.B.I. know you are still alive until they find the guy that attacked you. My guy will play dumb, so since no one else at the bureau talks to me, they don't know what we know. When the charges are brought, we won't have any place to hide, so we'll have to tell them about you then, but not before."

"This sounds pretty risky for you, Martin. Wouldn't you be harboring a witness without permission? Are you sure you want to play it this way?"

"Yeah. If the F.B.I. files murder charges, their bail will probably be denied and they'll be in custody. That will make whoever they hired think he did his job. We'll just have to make sure they understand it's in their best interest that no one say anything about you still being alive. Sooner or later one of those guys will talk ... I hope," he said as he flashed a wrinkled grin.

Tony grimaced, shaking his head. "All I want to be is a cook, Martin. This is getting way too complicated for my little pea brain."

"Yeah ... well ... I don't feel so smart sometimes either. But I've been thinkin' ... if we still figure someone is out there lookin' for you, you've already got a new legal identity. We could slip you into the witness protection program and move you and your family to safe territory."

Tony looked very unhappy. "That's the last thing I want to do. Do you remember telling me that this part of town was your territory?"

"Yeah."

"Well ... it's mine too. This is where I grew up. Or at least, not far from here. Close to where Muriel lives. I'm from here just like you. This is where I belong ... not Westport. This is where our home should be. I don't know how Nina is going to take that. She and I worked hard to get out of here and now I'm saying I want to come back. She probably won't go for it," he said sadly.

"Don't be so sure. She might surprise you." 

"I don't know what makes you think that. I treated her like shit for the last year we were together. I remember being angry all the time. Angry at those assholes who were stealing and angry with what I was doing. I had this big fancy house and fancy cars and a ton of money ... and I wasn't happy with any of it. It was a sham. 

"John Doan is real, Martin. That's who I want to be. John Doan. The guy who gives a damn about people and is happy with himself. In my old life, I made more money in a month than I'll make in a year as a cook ... but I like myself now. I'm happy being a cook. I don't need the other crap."

Martin nodded and smiled. "I kind of like you too. I know my kid likes you. He looks up to you. That's a good place to be, Tony ... or John," he laughed.

"Speaking of David, is he looking for a job during the holidays?"

"Yeah ... I imagine he'll try to find something. What ya got in mind?"

"I can use a helper here and I know Muriel can always use some relief. It doesn't pay much, but he'll get experience he won't get anywhere else. I know he's got his nose stuck in good at school, so I'm thinking, if this is what he wants ...."

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Martin laughed. "You can't help holdin' your hand out and pullin' someone in." Martin shook his head in amusement at Tony. The cook just shrugged.

-0-



Amnesia Ch. 03



"I saw you watching me talk to Dixon, he told me to speak to you. I guess you are wondering what it was about?"

I sat there stunned as Joey told me the details, our plan he said. Our plan to get the insurance money and get rid of my husband at the same time! 

Tears rolled down my face as Joey told me about our meeting with Mr Dixon. I had upped the insurance on the house and contents without my husband's knowledge, 5 months before the fire. We had kept it a secret from Harry. I used Joey to pay the topped up monthly payments. Then a few months after the fire Joey and I would start living together. He told me Harry was supposed to be trapped inside, after drinking drugged whisky. But some how the drink that I had given Harry got mixed up. That is why I fell asleep and not my husband. Dixon would benefit too, for his silence, and not letting Harry know I was topping up the insurance money. 

"I couldn't do anything like that, could I?" I whimpered.

"It was your idea babe," Joey replied, "oh I almost forgot. You were going to set me up, and do a runner with all that money all by yourself. Still, never mind, I've still got the money you gave me, so maybe we should just forget it all now. What do you think, Christine?"

I watched him pick his bag full of clothes up.

"I'll see you sometime, look after Harry, you don't want to lose him do you?" he said with a grin.



Amnesia Ch. 04



I walked to the village just to clear my head. I tried telling myself that Joey wasn't telling me the truth, but how the hell did I know? I suppose I never would find out, not unless I got my memory back. What about Harry my poor husband? Maybe I should just leave him and let him be in peace. If it ever got out that I had tried to have Harry killed would I go to prison? I mean, I have got amnesia, could I be sent to prison for something I didn't know I had tried to do?

I went to the post office avoiding the shop on purpose. I didn't want to bump into that shopkeeper again. On my way back home it started to rain. A green van pulled up next to me.

"So do you want a lift then?"

I shook my head feeling the rain soak through my top. I started walking faster and the van kept pace with me.

"I've got a delivery for you Mrs Trent. Come on get in."

I slid in next to Thomas the shopkeeper. I tugged the hem of my skirt down and he smiled. 

"What delivery?" I croaked, feeling his eyes on my breasts.

"Just some groceries sweetheart, but I see you have been shopping at the post office. Are you trying to avoid me?"

I gasped and jumped, "please take your hand off my knee."

"I'm just being friendly now lover boy has gone. See you don't mind really, if you want someone to take his place then I'm willing, sweetheart," he whispered in my ear, "Besides, I think you owe me for drenching me the other night."

His fingers travelled slowly up my tan nylon covered leg. I felt my thigh shake as I just watched his hand. I winced and went rigid in the seat; I was on the verge of yelling at him. He chuckled and moved his hand away, before I said anything. 

I fumbled with my keys trying to get them in the door lock. Finally I managed it as he stood behind me with the box in his arms. He followed me to the kitchen and I made sure to stand the other side of the table. He put the box down, and then he picked something from it.

"You can have these on the house, and then wear them when you come to the pub next time."

He walked away chuckling, as my shaking hands fumbled the pack of honey coloured stockings. 

I tried to get him out of my head. I mean I had enough to worry about. But that afternoon I lay on the bed finger myself to an orgasm, wearing the hold ups he had given me.

I cooked Harry a steak dinner, yeah, I know, hardily compensation for trying to have him killed. Still I had made up my mind to work at our marriage. After all, he had stood by me through all the shit I had caused in his life. Even if I didn't really fancy him surely I had to try.

"Are there any more spuds left?"

I took a deep breath, "no, I'm putting you on a diet, is that OK?" I added tentatively.

He looked a little lost he obviously didn't like the idea.

We sat watching telly in the evening, and then he just came out with words that had my heart dropping through the floor.

"I heard you, the other night, with Joey," he said, not taking his eyes off the telly.

I sat on the bed crying. When he came in I looked up at him. My eyes stung and I could barely see him through the tears. He sat at my feet and pushed my skirt up to my thighs. I felt his wet lips covering my trembling stocking tops in soft kisses. 

"You must hate me, why, why are you doing that?" I sobbed.

He didn't answer me he just pulled my legs open, and then he put them over his shoulders. His head went further up my thighs planting little kisses. Then I felt his tongue licking my pussy through my panties. I heard him moan and groan. I lowered my back onto the bed and looked up at the ceiling. My tears were still flowing but I was starting to enjoy what he was doing. I still didn't understand why he was doing it though.

"Why don't you kick me out? Why do you look after me?" I whimpered.

I felt his podgy fingers worm in my soaked panties. One slipped into my pussy, and I felt it quickly become coated with my juice.

"Because you are my wife, and the old Christine knew she could never leave me, or she would end up with nothing. But the new Christine, she could walk away at any time, the question is, will you?"

He pushed two fingers into me; right in as far as he could get them. I winced and watched his face.

"I'm just waiting for you to get your memory back. It should be interesting; I know you don't remember a thing now. Like I said I'm going to be firm with you. You used to deny me sex most of the time, after you had spent time teasing me, so let's just see what happens when you start to remember things."

He had me more confused than ever. But his tongue worked on my pussy, and I just let him do it. I could feel myself gushing even more; I was close now, so very close. He knelt up and looked in my eyes, his fingers slipped in and out of me so quickly I knew I wouldn't take long.

"You used to like this, you always said my fingers felt better than my cock," he hissed.

I started to shudder, building ever closer. Then he stopped and stood up. I looked at him in disbelief.

"Not nice is it, being teased and denied."

He walked out of the bedroom leaving my trembling body disappointed, and yes it wasn't very nice. 

So the old me refused him sex, something I had done when I first left the hospital so he was used to that. Now he was getting his own back, I suppose he had a right. But I wasn't like the old me, surely he could see that. Oh I acted like a slut I know, but in my heart I didn't want to. He noticed the way I cringed when I was in hospital, and my wall of pillows, that until recently I had insisted upon having between us. But surely he could see I was trying for him? But why hadn't he yelled at me for going with Joey? What man would put up with his wife and his best friend, fucking around behind his back! 

I went downstairs and he was back watching the telly. I moved in front of the screen and he looked up a little shocked. I had made up my mind to do this even though deep down I knew I didn't want to.

"Harry, I want you to fuck me. You are right, it isn't very nice. I want you to do whatever you want to me," I said nervously.

I felt him push into me, and this time he didn't have to be told to take his weight. He was so enthusiastic I knew I must have sent him mad, teasing and denying him in the past. I just watched him as his face tightened. It didn't take him long to shoot, mind you it never did. He panted and grunted as he thrust into me. I could see what the old me meant, his cock was thicker than his finger, but not by much. I suppose if I had married him for his money then I wouldn't have really fancied him that much. That had come across to the new Christine too!

He pulled out of me and I went to grab the tissue box.

"Leave it," he said firmly.

I still hadn't stopped in my search for something that would help me remember. It just went on hold for a time. I had tried to come to terms with what Joey had said. I must have had a plan back then; I didn't fancy Joey, and that was one part of the plan that haunted me. Did I have someone waiting in the wings? Someone who could help me understand what I was going to do, and maybe help me remember. I tried phoning my mother, I knew she and I didn't get on, but I was different now. I needed to find just one of my friends that didn't hate me; maybe my chain smoking mother could help. I tried her number several times during the course of the day. All I got was a strange bleeping noise, like the number was disconnected, or it didn't exist! 

The doctor came a few days later, and I told him about the little girl with the bike, and about how I thought it was my father and me. He asked if that was all I could remember. My heart sunk as I told him it was. I was given different pills, and told to come off the old ones I had been taking in the hospital. He said the new pills were for a few weeks, and after that I could stop altogether. I still didn't see the point but they must have been doing some good. Maybe they had helped me remember about the bike. The doctor stressed that I had to keep taking pills, if I stopped now I would have to go back on the other pills and start all over again. I suppose it made sense. The doctor left and I made Harry a coffee.

"Harry, did I want children?"

He choked on the drink and looked at me like I was mad. He then composed himself and opened his mouth to answer. I realised with everything that I had been told this was a stupid question. I threw the tea towel down on the table.

"Don't answer that," I said, and ran crying from the room.

On Saturday we drove the 16 miles into town. I walked down the street on my husband's arm. Well he had asked me and I couldn't really refuse. For someone who was a few stone over weight he sure walked quickly. My little feet in the 4 inch stilettos had to almost run to keep up with him. Many sets of eyes watched my mid thigh length red flared skirt, flick with every hurried step. My boobs too jumped around like two prize fighters in a sack! I was ogled at by leg men, boob men, and I suspect bum men, only I couldn't see them do it.

I went and bought two coffees as Harry sat down. I had to stand next to 3 men that had leered at me when I came in.

"So, are you out to lunch with the boss then? I hope his wife doesn't find out."

Before I could answer him one of his mates started.

"You must be after promotion then?"

"He is my husband," I spat.

"You've got to be kidding?" the third man asked in disbelief.

I heard stifled sniggers, from two girls in their late teens that had heard the men talking to me. I quickly shot them a glare that had them shuffling away. So this was what people thought. I had married a man that they thought I couldn't possibly fancy! Was Harry and me such a strange looking couple? I sat down with the coffee as the two girls walked past us. The grins were back on there faces as they looked at us. Apart from feeling embarrassed it had my heart sinking again. The 3 men and the 2 girls were as shock as I was, but they also found it highly amusing! 

"Harry can we get some new clothes?"

"I don't need any," he replied with a quizzical expression.

Just then I watched an old man run his eyes up my lacy black tights. Even when I glared at him he didn't stop gawping at me.

"Well I bloody do," I hissed in reply to what Harry had said.

"We haven't got time now. Anyway, I've got a surprise for you."

I gulped and I tried to look like I liked it, words just stuck in my throat. We walked back down the high street with Harry carrying a picture of us on our wedding day, it wasn't even wrapped! Now the whole town could see we were husband and wife!

I watched him hang it on the wall above the fire. 

"So what do you think? I got Joey to leave one of his photos, I had a copy enlarged."

I nodded I couldn't speak again, I just nodded.

"I have to go out tonight, I'm meeting with a client will you be OK?"

"Yes, sure," I mumbled, still looking at the proof of our wedding on the wall.

I had started my new pills, one at mid day, and the next at 8 o'clock. What they did I wasn't sure, but they did make me feel a little relaxed. 

Harry was back by 11, and he was drunk. To make matters worse he had the bloody shopkeeper with him!

"Hey honey, this is Thomas, he brought me home," he chuckled, "make a coffee honey."

He pulled me into a cuddled and I felt his wet lips on my neck. I tried pushing him off as the Thomas looked on with a sly grin. I managed to get away from my husband.

"I'll make a coffee, and then I'm going to bed," I mumbled.

I watched Harry slump in the chair. 5 minutes later Thomas came into the kitchen.

"I don't think your husband needs his, he's fast asleep."

I watched the grinning eyes travel up my legs and then my boobs. He watched a rather nervous woman swallow. I edged back against the wall, as he moved slowly closer. I went to move sideways but he had pressed his body against me. I looked up into his eyes as he held onto me.

"I'll scream if you try any....."

I couldn't finish what I was saying. He had pushed his tongue in my mouth. For an instant I just let him kiss me, despite knowing it was wrong. I finally pushed his chest but I couldn't stop him, not until he let me go. I went to slap his face but he caught my arm and pulled me back to him.

"Careful sweetheart, we don't want your hubby getting jealous, not yet anyway."

He backed away and left me shaking. Even so I wanted to know something that Thomas might be able to help me with.

"Wait, who did my husband meet in the pub?" I asked.

"Nobody, he just came in and we started drinking and chatting, why?"

I shook my head. 

"Has Thomas gone?" Harry asked, as he came round in the chair.

I nodded cuddling myself, and then went to bed. Why did Harry lie to me? If he just wanted to go for a drink why didn't he just say? 

The next day every time I went past the picture, I felt like it was watching me. I could barely look at my smiling face. Why did I have to be such a greedy bitch and marry someone for money? The picture bugged me, something didn't seem right; I just couldn't put my finger on what exactly. 

Over the next few days I seemed to be thinking about my previous life. I hadn't been able to remember anything apart from the girl with the bike. Something else was bugging me too, I felt horny, and several times a day I would go to the loo and touch myself. Even when I had an orgasm I still felt horny. It was like I wasn't really satisfying myself. 

A few days later I found myself watching the window cleaner. He was in his early 20s, slim, and attractive. He was up his ladder cleaning out the gutter above the lounge window. I stood looking up at him from the lounge, all I could see was from his stomach down. He wore shorts and had tan legs full of tight muscle. His shorts were tight too, and that bulge seemed so thick. His cock seemed to hang to the left, and it just held my gaze. 

I slipped a hand down my skirt and panties, I was already soaking wet and I hadn't touched myself yet! My breathing was short and gasping, as I watched him stretch up. His thigh muscles tightened and strained. I just wanted to run my hand up them, feeling the curves and smooth skin. My fingers dripped with my juice and my whole body trembled. I could feel just how red my face was, without having to look in a mirror. I teased and tormented my clit, at the same time wondering what his big hands would feel like thrust into my panties.

I moved closer to the window, my eyes were fixed to his impressive bulge. Every now and then he would reach up. His cock would push out making his bulge appear bigger. Each time it happened I groaned with lust.

I gasped again as his hand came down and he adjusted his cock.

"Oh God let me do that!" I moaned softly, "Just come here and fuck me."

He tugged it a little, trying to get it comfortable, and then he went back to his work. My panties just got more and more soaked. It was like having a wet bath sponge between my legs! My mouth hung open as I imagined taking his prick out, and then sucking it through the rungs of the ladder. My nipples were now tingling and aching constantly. I could feel my neck and chest burning, as I tormented my clit mercilessly. My whole body was in on the act now. I curled my toes into the thick pile of the carpet, and I pressed my ass on the corner of the table. My whole bloody body was a complete wreck! 

"Please stay up the ladder, just a little longer," I groaned.

I heard him grunt as he strained to reach something. God that grunt he made could have been because of his efforts to fuck me. I had a hand up my jumper now tweaking my sensitive nipples. I moved a little closer, I wanted him to see me, but then again, I didn't! My heart was racing into next week as I stared at those wonderful thighs, and that bulge that he had moved to the right. I wanted that up me so bad. 

The smell of my pussy was so strong it wafted through my clothes. I just wanted him to catch me and race in and fuck me. 

I saw him drop his left leg onto the next ladder rung. It heightened everything I was doing, from touching my pussy to the ache in my nipples. I dared myself to stay there and let him catch me. I wanted to lick the sweat off his naked legs, working my way up to that hot bulge!

"Oh you bastard," I hissed quietly, as he started down the ladder.

I raced into the kitchen slammed myself against the wall out of his sight. My pussy ran like a tap as I fought to stop myself screaming out, as my orgasm took over my whole being!

An hour later Harry was home, and went straight into the study, I took him in a drink just watched him for awhile. 

"Why didn't you tell me you phoned your mother the other day?"

"I couldn't get through, the line was dead. Why? How do you know?" I asked suspiciously. 

He went back to his work. I walked up to him and stood there until he looked up.

"Have you bugged the phone or something?"

I slammed his laptop down in frustration, at the way he just ignored me.

"So you have been listening to what I'm up to. Why Harry, why are you doing it?" I snapped at him.

He took a sip of his tea and looked deep into my eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but I had been waiting too long. I turned and went angrily to the door.

"She phoned me, and she asked if you were going to pester her."

I spun round at the door.

"Pester her? She is my bloody mother, doesn't she care about me?" I shrieked.

Seconds later I was crying, and I just fell into Harry's arms. 

"Christine I am all you have got, your mum, well she is a drunken bitter woman. Why do you think it took nearly a month to get her to see you?"

"But we made progress surely didn't we?" I sobbed.

"Only because I paid her to come here and see you, "he responded, "Look I'm sorry; I'm the only one you have got. Don't worry we'll be together forever."

I carried on crying, as life with my husband filled me with dread. 

The next day I watched a group of school kids going to the river with a couple of teachers. The kids looked between 6 and 8 years old. I began wondering if at any time in my past I wanted to have children. Maybe I didn't like kids then, all running noses and shitty nappies. I knew in my present state I wouldn't be a very good mother. But what if I did want them; would I want kids with my husband? God that thought hurt something deep inside. Maybe I'd be like my own mother; I couldn't put any kid through that!

I put Harry's tea down in front of him. I watched him survey the salad like it was something that had washed up on the beach. 

"So, I'm still on a diet?" he asked, just staring at the plate.

I lay in the bath that night and Harry came in. Previously I would have covered myself, but not this time. I had been playing with myself and I felt so very turned on. I watched as Harry held the towel for me. I stood up letting the bubbles from the foam bath roll slowly over my breasts. Harry began to dry me. I snatched the towel away from him and climbed out of the bath. I just stared into his eyes and pushed his shoulders until he was knelt at my feet. His eyes gazed between my legs; he seemed almost ashamed to be looking. 

"You want to fuck me don't you Harry?" I whispered.

I lifted my wet left leg over his shoulder. He shuddered and his lips seemed to tremble. 

"Go on kiss my thigh," I purred, "just my thigh; keep your fingers away from my pussy."

I felt his hot lips plant little kisses on the inside of my thigh. I held his hair with one hand and my other slipped up and down my slit. 

"Oh god I feel so horny all the time. I feel dirty, and so fucking horny," I panted.

I gripped his hair tight feeling my knuckle ache with the force. Harry winced and grunted.

"Shut up, just fucking keep kissing my thigh!" I snapped.

I could feel myself leak on my fingers. My juice seemed to flow so bloody easily. I could feel him resist as I pushed his face into my thigh. My knuckles had turned white as he tried to pull away from me. I was panting and rubbing my hard button, teasing and tormenting her. 




Amnesia Ch. 04-05



My thanks and appreciation to my very skilled editor, Erik Thread, who has patiently worked with me to make this story cohesive and readable. Any errors are mine.




Nina Novak was the older of two sisters, brought up in a modest home in the Bronx. Her mother, Ursola, and father, Janos, were the children of refugees from the 1956 Hungarian uprising. Their parents had escaped in the chaotic aftermath and had landed as legitimate refugees, first in Camp Kilmer, New Jersey, and finally settling in the City of New York.

The Hungarian community gathered together to share their experiences at the Magyar Neighborhood House. It was there that Janos first met Ursola, discovering they both went to the same school. They began dating when Ursola turned seventeen and finally got permission from her parents. 

After graduating from high school, Janos signed on as an apprentice carpenter and found work at a local millwork shop. He supplemented his income with after-hours work in the neighborhood. 

By 1964, he had saved enough for a down payment on a small house, and Janos asked Ursola to marry him. With their parents' permission, their life in America was now confirmed. Both daughters were born in that little house. First Nina, named in honor of the ship that discovered America and hence, in her mother's mind, their wonderful new lives. Magda came along two years later. Ursola and Janos had their perfect life.

Nina graduated from high school and after several frustrating weeks looking for work, finally went to a temporary placement agency. They tested and interviewed her thoroughly. Within a week, they found her a temporary job as a receptionist at a small law firm. 

Nina had developed into an attractive, five-foot seven-inch, dark haired beauty. She had an aura of self-confidence about her and took to the receptionist's job instantly. She handled calls deftly and was unfailingly polite, even when the party on the other end of the line was angry or distraught. 

The firm was so impressed with her that they offered her a permanent job and moved the existing receptionist into another office. At nineteen years old, Nina had found a career.

She had been working at the law firm for three years when she first noticed the tall, handsome young man who frequented the same elevator at the same time each morning. She didn't know his name, but she knew she got off on the ninth floor, while he continued on to the fourteenth.

Nina was late getting to work one day, having taken a half-day for a dental appointment. As she arrived at the bank of elevators, she saw the familiar figure of a man standing by himself, also waiting for a car. She entered it immediately after him.

"Nine please," she said, as he looked back at her in question. 

He pushed the button and then his own, turning toward her.

"I was wondering when we would meet," he smiled. "I'm Tony Marino." He held out his hand to her.

"Nina ... Nina Novak," she stammered, taking his hand. 

"Who do you work for?" 

She named the law firm and told him she was the receptionist.

He told her the name of the brokerage firm he worked for. 

"Well, now that we're properly introduced, would you like to have dinner with me on Friday?" 

"Uh ... uh ... yes!" she blurted. 

The elevator stopped at the ninth and Nina stepped out with Tony right behind her. 

"I can't very well take you out if I don't know where you live or what your phone number is," he grinned.

"No ... no ... I guess not." Scrambling, she pulled a blank business card out of her purse and quickly wrote her phone number on the face. "I live with a girl-friend in a studio apartment near Morris Park. Call me," she said as she turned and virtually ran into the safety of the office lobby.

She didn't see Tony's smile as he pushed the up button on the wall. 

At four-thirty that afternoon, Nina Novak answered the lone incoming call.

"Moulton, Baines and Associates," came the lovely, clear voice.

"Hi, Nina. It's Tony ... from the elevator."

"Oh ... hi. I was just thinking about you," she finally managed.

"I wondered. I'm sorry I ambushed you like that. I would never dream of asking you for a date before we had even met, but ... I ... I couldn't stop myself. It just came out," he said nervously.

"You surprised me. I'm not even sure why I said yes, but ... I did say yes, didn't I," she admitted in her soft voice.

"Yes, you did and you made me a very happy guy. The reason I called, I wondered if I could buy you a coffee in the café downstairs ... after work. I should at least give you some assurance that I'm not some stalker or serial rapist or anything sinister."  

She laughed. "I'm off at five. I guess if I'm going to go out on a date with you, I should at least know something about you. I'll meet you in the café."

"Great," he replied. 

That was the beginning, and less than a year later they were married. Nina maintained her receptionist job and Tony continued to rise at the brokerage firm. When Nina became pregnant with their first child, Benjamin, she took a leave of absence, stating her intention to return to the law firm at some time in the future. 

She was just about to return when she discovered she was pregnant with their second child, Nadia. At that point, she admitted to Tony she was destined for the role of mother and housewife. Their third child, Jared, only confirmed her decision. 

-0-

Tony had risen to middle-management at CM&D, and his salary and bonuses provided the Milano's with a good home and a comfortable lifestyle for an early-thirties couple. He had invested wisely himself and had a healthy 401(k), as well as tax-protected savings for the children's education.

His elevation to vice president was inevitable and the salary and perks that came with the job put them in an upper income bracket. They moved to Westport just before Jared started school. As so many of their neighbors had, they enrolled all three children in private schools.

The Nantucket house was purchased when it became available at a lower-than-market price by a financially stressed client of Tony's. It had proved to be another good investment in the run-away housing market of the early twenty-first century. If they were prudent, they had enough investments and property to secure them for the rest of their lives. 

But, as with most idyllic situations, there was a catch. Tony had been caught up in the race to the top and was demonstrating signs of stress. He snapped at Nina and the children with little provocation. Increased responsibility had brought increased wealth, but there was little evidence that either he or the family were enjoying it.

His discovery of fraud at CM&D prompted him to begin collecting evidence and documenting it on his office computer, then transferring it to his computer at home. When Stanton Mellows stalled and avoided taking immediate appropriate action, he called Carter Woolman at the Securities and Exchange Commission. 

He had met Carter at an investment association convention in Washington a couple of years earlier. They had seemed to be on the same wavelength when it came to regulatory change, especially after WorldCom and Enron. 

And then ... awakening in the hospital. 

Chapter 5:

Nina carefully skirted around the issue with her children about why she wanted to go to the city for the weekend. She mumbled some vague words about looking for their father. Mrs. Martinez would look after them. Nadia was having a sleep-over at one of her friend's houses while Jared was going to a college football game with a neighbor's family. They would be well occupied until she returned on Sunday afternoon.

She flipped open her cell phone.

"Ton ... uhhhh John, please," she hesitated when Carl answered.

"Hold on," Carl responded.

"John here."

"Tony ... it's me ... Nina." 

"Hi. I didn't expect you to call."

"I ... I'm coming to the city. I've booked the Marrakech for two nights. It's the one on Broadway. I want to see you, Tony. I need to be with you. I can't stand knowing you're there and not be with you. Please say you'll come, Tony. Please," she pleaded.

"Nina ... I ... I want to see you too. But ... this is all so strange. It's going to be ... difficult. I won't be done until after nine tonight and I have to be here tomorrow. We won't have much time together."

"I don't care. I'll be grateful for whatever we can have. I just want to be with you, Tony. I need you." Nina was close to tears again. 

"Nina, when will you be in the city?"

"I should be there before five."

"I wonder ... after you've checked in ... would you like to come here. We can have a late supper. I'll make something special for us. How does that sound?" 

"Wonderful! Yes ... I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll take a cab from the hotel. I can't wait to see you again. It will be so good to be with you again," she crooned.

"OK," he laughed, "I get it. You're not going to stand me up."

"Never! 

"Nina ... I need to tell you ... good news I hope. My memory is coming back. Some of it, anyway."

"That's wonderful, Tony. We can talk about it and maybe that will help too." 

It was almost seven when Nina pushed through the door of Amnesia wearing a very attractive dark green dress and a big smile. The air was still warm from the late September sun and she carried nothing but a clutch purse and a light sweater with her. The dress was short, revealing her very shapely long legs. It caught Carl's attention along with several other men sitting at the bar.

She walked to the only open spot at the bar and waited for Carl to approach.

"Hi, I'm here to see ... John," she stumbled. 

Carl smirked. "Well, well. You mean John actually has a love-life." 

Nina blushed, but nodded slightly.

"Good for him. It's about time. And like everything else ... he has good taste," he grinned with an arched eyebrow. "I'll let him know you're here if you'll tell me your name."

"Nina ... he's expecting me."

Carl nodded and having finished serving a pair of beers to a nearby table, pushed into the kitchen, reappearing within seconds.

"He'll be along shortly. He's kinda busy right now. Can I get you something while you're waiting?"

"A red wine? Dry?"

Carl nodded again and pulled a bottle of red from the back shelf, then, looking back at her, changed his mind and opened a different bottle.

"I think you'll like this," he said. "It's a nice smooth Italian. I know John likes it." 

"Thanks. I'll sit at a small table, if that's OK?"

"Go right ahead. Things are quieting down finally. Friday afternoon is usually pretty busy from four to seven. Our regulars for dinner won't be here for another hour," he said as he stacked some used glasses in the washer. "How do you know John?"

"Uh ... we're ... uhmmm ... old friends," she stammered. "Have you worked here long?" she asked, changing the topic.

"Just since it reopened earlier this year. I'm the manager and the bartender. John is the head cook and to tell the truth, he's what makes this place go. You should try some of his food. He's getting pretty well known 'round these parts." 

"I plan to. We're having dinner here and he said he was going to make something special." 

"Lucky girl. He won't disappoint you," he said, turning back to mix a pair of drinks for another couple.

Nina took her glass of wine and moved to a small table near the front corner of the room. She gazed out the large window, watching the people walk by in the fading evening sun. This was the Bronx, their old neighborhood. 

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't see Tony as he walked quietly to her, leaning down and kissing her cheek. She jumped at his touch and then got herself under control, her hands going to his near arm and pulling him down again. The kiss was long and soulful. 

"Hi," Tony whispered to her, smiling as he gazed into his wife's eyes.

"Hi," she responded, tears now forming and blurring her vision. She blinked, as they trickled down her cheeks. 

Tony moved the vacant chair around so that he could sit beside her instead of across. He was just looking at her, but he wore a look of contentment as he did so. He reached for her hand and held it.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful you are," he said at last.

She smiled. "You haven't told me that in a long time. I love to hear it."

"I haven't done or said a lot of things in a long time. Much longer than just the last year. I'm not sure I want to get all those memories back. Maybe I'll be happier with things a little less ... memorable."

"It's strange, Tony. I was thinking about us years ago when we lived near here. I was remembering how happy we were. Is that why you're happy here ... being a cook?" 

"Could be. Before I got my some of my memory back, I was living in a world that I was grateful for. People helped me, and so I wanted to help them. I want you to meet those people. They've become important to me. They kept me sane. They didn't ask for anything. They did it because they wanted to. When I had nothing ... and I mean nothing, they gave me a chance."

The smile hadn't left her face. "I'd love to. If they're important to you ... they're important to me."

"Tomorrow, we'll go to the market and do the morning shopping for the kitchen. I'll let Muriel know I'm staying with you tonight. After we've been to the market, we can stop by the Salvation Army office and I'll introduce you to Tom Matthews. He's the man who got me back on the road to recovery. I owe him a lot."

"I want to meet Muriel, too. She sounds like a special lady." 

"She is. She's much more than a friend. She taught me how to cook and how to run a kitchen. She also taught me to trust. She trusted me without much to go on. She's another of the people that made my new life possible. It could have turned out so much differently than it did if it weren't for Tom and Muriel, Mr. Leung and Martin. They all made a difference." 

He leaned back in his chair as he finished. She looked down at his hand, holding hers tightly as he spoke. She continued to smile as he expressed his gratitude for the help of strangers. 

"You are a very different man from the one who disappeared over a year ago." 

Tony leaned in and kissed her on the lips before leaving to return to work.

She nursed a couple of glasses of wine as Tony labored in the kitchen. She watched as the serving girl brought meals to the various couples, inhaling the aromas as they passed. 

Shortly before nine, Tony appeared from the kitchen having discarded his white smock and hat. He was bearing two bowls and a basket of rolls on a tray as he approached the table. 

Nina looked at the offering, inhaling the scent of the food before her.

"Is this what I think it is?" she asked.

"Well, it may not be quite a good as your mother's, but it's my version of Hungarian Goulash," he smiled.

"Oh, Tony. It smells glorious. I haven't had this in years. Look, you even made Csipetke!"

Tony grinned as he watched her delight at his creation. Nina immediately tore open a warm roll and began to test the hot, spicy dish.

"It's perfect!" 

They finished their food and Tony called for a cab to take them to the hotel. It was nearing ten o'clock when they arrived at the front entrance and made their way through the uniquely decorated lobby and up to Nina's room. Tony had a small overnight bag with a change of clothes and some toiletries he had retrieved from the apartment that afternoon. 

He had called Muriel to let her know he would be staying with Nina that night and she was delighted for him. She was also genuinely pleased that Nina wanted to stop by. 

"I'd love to meet her, John. I'm so glad you're getting your memory back. It must be a great relief."

"Yes, it is. But please don't say anything to anyone about it. No one knows and the police want to keep it that way for now. I'll tell you more when we see you tomorrow."

Tony stepped into the hotel room, following Nina. She flicked on the lights and revealed a cozy room in faux Moroccan décor with two queen-size beds, an armoire, a writing desk, a double closet, and a bathroom. He walked to the window and looked down onto the lights of Broadway. 

"This was where we stayed when we came to New York for a night on the town," Tony recalled. 

"Do you remember this place?" she asked as she stood beside him.

"I do now. You found it, years ago. You said it was funky, if I remember." 

"Yes. And it is. Different. You said you liked it. I hope you still do."

"Yeah. It's cool," he smiled, wrapping his arm around Nina's waist. He turned to her and looked deeply into her eyes. He pulled her to him and kissed her, tentatively at first. She responded, and their kiss turned to one of passion.

"Oh ... Tony. I've missed you so. It's been so lonely without you," she moaned into his shoulder.

"I don't know how you could miss the proper bastard I had become, Nina. I didn't like myself, so I'm sure I didn't make you very happy."

"I know, Tony. But that's all in the past. You're different now. You're a different man. You're more like the Tony I married. That's the Tony I want," she said, looking deeply into his eyes.

"I'm not going back, Nina. I'm not going back to CM&D and I'm not going back to living like we did these past few years. It was phony and ... well ... I hated it." 

"Tell me what you want, Tony. Tell me what's important to you. I want to be with you, always. We don't need the big house and the fancy cars. They're just things. The only things I want are my Tony and my family. That's all that matters." 

"Are you sure, Nina? I'm just as happy here. Being a cook. Living in the Bronx. Not having a car. Do you really think you'd be happy with that?" 

"Maybe a couple of years ago, I might have said no. But losing you ... even though we weren't getting along ... losing you hurt so deeply. I know now what's important to me and things aren't important." 

She stopped, stepped back and with her hands on his shoulders continued, "You once told me that we had enough money and possessions that we never had to worry for the rest of our lives. If you quit your job, we can live anywhere, do anything we want. If you want to be a cook and live in the Bronx, then ... I'll be right there with you. Especially if you make goulash for me again," she grinned.

He smiled and gazed at her. "Are you sure? It's a big lifestyle change, Nina. We have the kids to consider too." 

"I know. There are all kinds of things to think about, but ... it's about ... it's about us. What makes us happy? How do we live our lives? What's important to us ... to our marriage? I think we can be selfish about that."

The smile hadn't left Tony's face as she spoke. He stepped toward her, pulling her into his embrace once again.

"Thank you. I'm glad you feel that way," he said, holding her tightly. "I love you, Nina. I know I haven't told you that very often lately, but ... I love you."

Tony felt her tears on his cheek, but didn't move. "I love you too, Tony. I never stopped loving you. I always hoped you would come back to me. And now you have. You've made me very happy, darling."

They made love that evening. Powerful, emotionally profound love. Tony called it a renewal. He said it was like they were starting all over again. Having to learn everything about each other once more.

When they awoke the next morning at first light, they made love again. There was no mistaking the passion they expressed in each other's arms. 

They shared a leisurely breakfast in the hotel restaurant before catching a cab to the Salvation Army office. 

Tom ushered the couple into his small office.

"Good to see you as always, John. And who is the lovely lady?" he asked, smiling at Nina.

"Uhhhh ... this is going to sound odd, Tom, but this is Nina Marino ... my wife."




Amnesia Ch. 04-05



"Oh!" he exclaimed, wide-eyed. "You'll have to tell me about it," he said as he took Nina's offered hand.

"I have to ask you not to repeat anything I tell you today, Tom. There is danger attached to the wrong people finding out that I'm alive and kicking," Tony warned.

"Of course. Anything you say will be held in complete confidence."

"Thank you." Tony paused for a moment, reaching for Nina's hand as he did.

"My name is Tony Marino. Until a year ago, I was a senior vice president at a major investment firm. I discovered some illegal activity and I was about to report it when apparently, I was attacked and woke up in the hospital. I have recovered some of my memory, but not all of it yet.

"Through pure chance, Nina saw me in a market one day and eventually caught up to me and told me who I was. It was quite a shock, but that shock is what probably triggered my memories. Anyway, you and Martin, Muriel and Mr. Leung have all been a part of my recovery and helping me with my new life. Nina and I have decided we like this life better than our old one and so, when the danger has passed, I will be Tony Marino ... cook."

The look of surprise and concern on Major Tom Matthews' face was unmistakable.

"Are you still in danger?" 

"We're not sure. Possibly. Martin is guessing that the people I was exposing had hired someone to do away with me. That someone may still be out there and until the F.B.I. or the police can identify him, I could still be a target. That goes for Nina and my children as well. They may want to use them to get to me. So, that's the reason for the caution."

"I understand. That must be very worrisome for you, Nina." 

"I've tried not to dwell on it, Tom. I've got my Tony back and that's what I'm concentrating on now," she smiled.

Tom nodded and smiled himself. They continued their conversation for a few minutes before Tony excused himself and Nina. They had places still to go to that morning.

They said their goodbyes to the Salvation Army Major, catching a cab to Muriel's apartment. She was expecting them both.

Muriel welcomed them in and Tony repeated the story he had shared with Tom. He received Muriel's assurances that she would tell no one. Muriel was pleased that Tony had recovered some of his memory, but even more excited that they would be returning to the Bronx to live and work. She would not be losing her new friend after all.

Their last stop was the market where Nina had first found him. Tony had some shopping to do for the day's menu and time was running a bit short. His assistant cook, Eric, would get things under way, but he would still need to be there to supervise the specials. 

Nina clung to his arm, carrying the groceries along with him, watching him as he carefully made his selections. She expressed her surprise at how much he had learned in such a short period of time. 

They made love again that night after Tony had prepared another special meal for them. 

"This is like we are renewing our marriage," Tony suggested.

"Yes, it's another beginning," Nina agreed.

On Sunday, they held hands as they strolled down Broadway, across West 97th St. and into Central Park. The early fall weather was warm and they spent almost the whole day walking and rekindling their love of New York. 

It was a difficult moment for them both as Nina picked up her bag from the sidewalk by the cab and walked into Grand Central Station to catch the train to Westport. She looked back several times before Tony's cab pulled away from the curb and headed to the Bronx. She didn't try to hide the tears.

-0-



Amnesia Ch. 04



"Don't you dare pull away from me Harry?" I growled.

I didn't know why I was doing this; I just wanted to bring myself off. Poor Harry must have wondered what had gotten into me. 

"Get your cock out, get your fucking cock out and jerk yourself, you fucking shit!" I hissed full of lust.

I twisted his head and pulled it into my pussy. He wasn't licking me; he just fumbled with his zip. I pulled his head against me so roughly, and I pressed down on his face. I was really grinding myself against him and if my hands could squeeze his head into my soaked cunt then I would!

I knew full well this wasn't sex with my husband; this was just about me getting off!

My body shook and trembled as my pussy seemed to stream juice down on my husband's face. I could feel his hand quickly jerking himself. He was grunting deep into my pussy now.

"God I'd like to get your fucking head up my fucking snatch!" I growled.

Another muffled response came from my husband but I didn't know what, I didn't bloody care either!

The bath water that had drenched my body was replaced by sweat. This was my orgasm and I wanted it above anything else. The head of my husband that I gripped hard between my legs could have been anything!

My head flashed thoughts of Joey, the shop keeper, and the window cleaner. I wanted them one after the other, I wanted them all at the same time. But not fucking me, just servicing my sopping pussy. Oh, my god, all three of them trying to get their long hot tongues, between my shaking legs and up my pussy sent me over the edge. I now used my husbands face as some sort of vibrator, well his nose. I rode it as hard as I could. I just wished he would shut the fuck up protesting!

I pushed his head back and looked into his eyes.

"What? What the fuck are you whinging at!" I screamed viciously.

I could feel the trickle of spunk on my leg. He panted and gasped and his face looked so red and wet. I closed my eyes and finished myself off.

I slowly calmed down but my legs and hands still shook.

"Oh god, are you, OK?"

He just sat there on the bathroom floor looking up in disbelief. 

"Jesus Harry, I'm sorry, I just couldn't help it," I whimpered.

We lay in bed together. Harry just cuddled into my back, as I wondered what the fuck I had done earlier. He told me it didn't matter; he said he was just so shocked at my passion. I kept saying sorry until he told me he had longed for a moment like that since our marriage. I was honest with him and told him I was just getting myself off. Even that he didn't seem to mind. But I didn't dare tell him about the men I had fantasised about. Even after all of this I wondered if this was what I really wanted. Maybe the old Christine had taken a hold of me in the bathroom. Maybe the old Christine was winning me over to her past sexual encounters in some way. If I could only remember something, if I only could figure out some way to beat my amnesia!

I heard Harry on the phone talking in whispers. I had just woken up and I had gone to the top of the stairs. Why was he chatting to someone at 1 in the morning? He looked up shocked as I just stood there.

"My client from the other night, he is back in Japan, I had to phone him," he offered.

"So did you meet with him then?" 

"No, he had to go back home early. I'm sorry I didn't come home straightaway. But I just needed to unwind. I know you're finding it difficult, but just think how I feel too? I'm looking after a wife who doubts everything I tell her. I wish you had never had amnesia, at least I knew where I stood when you were a selfish bitch."

His little speech brought tears to my eyes. Surely he was telling the truth, and I had to try for him now, didn't I?

The following day Harry had left his laptop when he went to the office. I had seen him switch it on several times, and I was sure he used my name as a password, followed by a two digit number. Eventually I hit the right number and the screen opened up. After last night I felt guilty as hell doing this, but I felt I had no choice. I didn't know what I was looking for, but something on here must give me a clue to my past. I didn't find much mostly business things, not until I opened up the pictures. I scrolled through pictures of me, about 20 in all. There I was walking down the road, eating in a restaurant, and at some fair ground. I just sat shocked at the pictures. I looked so happy and relaxed, with a man that wasn't my husband! 

In the last set of pictures I was sat in a car with this unknown man, kissing, until the last 2 grainy pictures. The man had his head tipped back on the headrest of the car. His mouth was open and he was savouring the moment. All I could see of me was top of my head, which seemed to be in the man's lap! I tried to make out who the man was, but in what would have been clear pictures the face had been distorted. Even in the car pictures I couldn't make out his features, but he definitely had blonde hair! 

I just stared for ages, minutes or hours I don't know which. My head raced with all sorts of thoughts. But one thought kept coming back. Was this my lover, or was this my husband!



Amnesia Ch. 05



My mind was in turmoil for the next few hours. Should I confront my husband or try and find out more on my own? I kept looking at my grinning face, and the way I held onto the guy's arm. I looked so happy in most of the pictures. They had been taken over several different days, judging by my changing outfits. But was this evidence of my adultery or my real partner?

I printed off the pictures like I had seen Harry do, praying to god he wouldn't find out. Maybe the police would believe me now. I had to show them or at least try to. I had to get into town somehow. I didn't want to phone the police or call them out, I mean what would my husband say if he found out? Another option was the taxi driver, but again he might tell Harry he had taken me to town. I couldn't trust anyone, but maybe there was someone who would help. I took my midday pill and headed out.

My high heels clipped slowly on the tiled floor, I watched the eyes travel up my legs and onto the hem of my yellow flared mini skirt; a slight smile grew on his lips. He looked over my breasts and nipples in my tight black jumper.

"So what can I do for you, sweetheart?" 

I didn't answer I just moved around the shop slowly, looking at things. I gave him time to look me over, and he did. I picked up a magazine and thumbed through it. I could feel his eyes watching my body. He was beside me now looking over my shoulder. I didn't say anything about him standing so close to me. I could feel my heart racing, and I felt like I would jump if he touched me. But I would force myself to stand there if he did.

"I'm looking for a treat for my, my husband, a special treat," I said stammering slightly.

He moved closer and I could feel his hot breath on my bare neck. 

"Maybe you should look on the top shelf then, sweetheart."

I looked up at all the porn magazines and gulped. 

"No, maybe more of a verbal treat, like telling him what I got up to today."

He took a chance and his hand cupped my left breast. I let him paw me for a few seconds and then I stepped away. I moved round the shop and he followed behind me.

"So he does like to hear about you," he whispered.

I felt his wet tongue twist into my 4 inch hoop earring. He snaked his slug like muscle right into my ear. I could hear it slop and slither, over every part of my ear that he could reach. 

"I'm not that easy, you'll have to make an effort," I breathed as I moved away, "take me for a drink, not to the village pub, in town."

"OK, when, tonight?"

"No now, shut the shop and we'll go now," I responded.

"Why don't we just go back to your place?" he asked, as his eyes rolled up my body.

"Because I'll be worth the wait, and I have to build my husband up to it. He likes that almost as much as me doing it. Can you wait for it? Can I tease my husband about my new stud first?"

"I knew that bloke was banging you in front of your old man," he groaned.

"No not in front of my husband, he won't want to watch, he just likes me talking about it, and he likes a long slow build up."

"I don't know, let's just do it. You might just be a prick tease, and he might just get off on that," Thomas said. 

I moved a few steps away and turned facing him. I could see he was turned on and hot for me. I slowly lifted my skirt an inch at a time. His eyes just watched and he swallowed hard. He groaned as my stocking tops came into view, the lacy brown tops had him panting slightly.

"They are the stockings you gave me. I'm wearing them for you. Take me into town and buy me a drink, and in few days I'll work on my husband," I purred sexily.

He swallowed hard again, as I let my skirt drop.

"W, what if he, says no?" he stammered.

"He won't, I did it with Joey, and he loved it. I have amnesia but I found pictures of me with other men. My husband told me after I asked him."

"Show me again," he mumbled.

I inched my skirt up watching his leering eyes. I didn't go as far as my panties, besides they felt a little wet.

"You know I'm a right bitch to him. Even I worked out I only married him for his money. In return I give him what he wants," I purred.

"Don't keep me hanging on too long; I'm not some thick country boy."

I smiled, "no, I'm sure you're not."

I sat in his van as he drove. He had lost some of his earlier confidence, maybe because I was sat with my hem slightly exposing my stocking tops. He knew I would only let him look. I told him if he couldn't control himself the deal was off. I also made him promise not to let my husband know, until I had spoken to him first. I told him it would take a few days, maybe a week, but I would be worth waiting for. I watched his eyes trying to look at my thighs and the road at the same time. I just lay back in the seat occasionally rubbing my legs together. The sound of nylon seemed to drive him wild. He was actually sweating just above his top lip. I was only using him to get into town, but my body seemed to like the way I was teasing him.

We sat in the pub and I downed my drink quickly.

"Wait here I'll be back in half an hour."

"Where are you going?" he asked a little miffed.

I smiled rubbing my hand across his cheek. 

"I need some new underwear, something sexy for my new lover," I purred.

He took me by surprise grabbing my hand and pushing it under the table. I felt his hard cock, and although I wanted to resist I didn't. I smiled and gave it a squeeze.

"Later lover, later," I whispered.

I walked into the police station and showed the officer from the other day the photos. After 10 minutes he still thought I was a lunatic. I insisted that he found someone else for me to talk to. I sat and explained everything to a woman detective. She seemed worse than the man on the desk! 

"Look Mrs Trent you obviously had an affair, I mean you admit that yourself."

"Look I have amnesia. I don't know if what they are telling me is the truth. For god sake will you stop and think about it!" I snapped.

"The P.C. told me you came in awhile ago with this story. You thought you were the kidnapped girl."

"I know she is black and that wasn't me. I'm not bloody stupid!" I shrieked.

"No, but you thought you were her, and I can smell booze on your breath. How many have you had?"

"Look I told you I came here with the shopkeeper," I growled.

"Ah yes, this would be the shopkeeper who you don't like, the one who is suggestive and hitting on you. The same shopkeeper you invited to the pub?"

"I told you I used him to get into town. You listen to me I've been abducted," I hissed.

"No you listen to me. Your husband had a picture enlarged of the pair of you on your wedding day. Now how the hell did he manage that without actually marrying you in the first place?"

She was stood over me by now, and I could see she was close to losing her temper with me. She took a deep breath and calmed herself.

"Look I've been married 14 years; hell my husband has put on weight. OK I still love him, but sometimes when he's cutting his toenails or stinking out the loo I don't fancy him."

"So that's it is it?" I whimpered.

"Mrs Trent, I'm sorry you have amnesia, but try and ride it out. I'm sure you'll get your memory back at some stage. Until then let me get on with something more important. I can't investigate every woman that doesn't fancy her husband anymore."

I went back to the pub trying to keep my thoughts in check. I didn't want Thomas to see my worried look. 

"Oh come back have you?" he slurred.

I looked at the empty beer bottles that surrounded the table. His hand shot up the back of my skirt and he pinched my ass real hard. For the second time I found myself pouring drink over his face.

My left buttock was still smarting as I hurried down the street. My mind was everywhere and nowhere. I didn't know what to make of myself or anything else. 

I managed to find a bus that was going back to the village. I just sat daydreaming as it went through the town. I watched all the faces going by. Couples and singles all with things to do, and I bet they could remember what they had done 2 months ago!

The bus seemed to be getting packed and some of the passengers were standing. This old lady stood looking down at me. I stood up to let her sit down. I hung onto the rail as the bus twisted through the town. Somehow I got sandwiched between a few young men. As the bus bumped and lurched around I swayed against them. I could feel myself getting hot, just because I was so close to these men, but why?

They seemed to close in on me. As I backed away from the guy in front, I bumped into the man behind. I could feel constant pressure on my backside. It was so slight at first but now it became a little firmer. The man in front of me was grinning down at me. I gulped and turned my red face away from him. He seemed to move closer until his chest was against mine. The bus jerked and I couldn't stop myself swaying. I felt a hand touch mine up on the rail. I moved my hand back away from it and felt another hand. 

Soon my hand was trapped, being touched by both the two men's hands up on the rail. I felt my face getting hotter, and I prayed they would be getting off at the next stop.

"Look down," the man in front of me whispered.

I gulped and looked down and saw his hand slowly easing up the hem of my skirt.

"Don't say a word bitch. You don't want to upset everyone on the bus do you?" the man behind me whispered.

I could feel the back of my skirt being raised just as slowly. I gasped and felt my heart thumping to get out of my chest. I just stood there feeling my hand that was up on the rail, being stroked slightly by a thumb or finger. I just kept my head to one side not wanting to see their faces. This old man was watching from his seat, I guess he was well into his sixties. I saw him lick his lips. I just stood there watching his hand move to my leg. His old hand trembled as it made contact with my stocking. I gulped as his hand slid up, and he squeezed the bare flesh above my stocking. He smiled at me, and I shuddered at the lack of teeth in his head.

Another hand moved over my bare thigh. I could feel how hot and sweaty it was. The cold air circulated around my stocking tops, I knew my hem was up to my waist.

"Please don't," I started.

"Shut up bitch, we are getting off at the next stop; anyway your little knickers are soaked."

I felt the knuckle of the man in front, grazing my pussy through my sodden panties. I shook and I trembled as the man behind pulled the back of my panties down! I felt a finger stroke deep in between the cheeks of my ass. God it wasn't a finger it was too thick!

My panties slipped down at the front. I gasped and winced as the hand had taken a few pussy hairs with it. 

"Fuck you are a juicy little piece," the man to my side hissed, as his finger slipped into my wet pussy.

I winced and tried to move away from the fourth man's finger that flicked over my throbbing clit! I closed my eyes as I felt a cock on my left thigh, a cock on my right thigh, a cock nestling between my ass, and a cock rubbing over my pussy! All four men were wanking themselves on me!

"God you've got fucking big nipples you whore," the man in front of me panted.

I felt him squeeze them hard and I bit my lip to stop crying out. The man behind me was grunting and swallowing hard. Then I felt it, hot and wet shooting all over my ass. The man to my left splattered my thigh seconds later. My pussy dripped as the finger moved from my clit. I grabbed his hand and shoved it back.

"Finish me off, please?" I whispered frantically.

Several fast strokes and I felt every inch of my body stiffen, and my toes curled in my shoes. My orgasm flooded through me, as the man on my right shot his load, and I felt it hit my stocking top and lower down my thigh. I gasped and I twisted, and a small shriek escaped my trembling mouth. My nostrils could smell the spunk that had been unloaded, and now the man in front of me soaked my pussy hair with his hot spunk!

My hand could barely grip the rail as I fought to keep upright. I could feel the spunk on my ass trickling down. The guy in front of me pushed himself against me. I could smell his sweat through his shirt. 

"Hold on tight bitch, brace yourself," he hissed in my ear.

I did as he said, I felt hands rip at my panties, first from the front and then from the back. I fought to keep my balance, as I was tugged one way then the other. Finally I heard a slight tearing noise, and then a bigger one! My panties had gone and cold air raced over my hot saturated cunt.

As the bus came to a stop on the edge of town I managed to get my skirt down. The young men filed off the bus, and the old woman pushed past me. I dropped into her seat. My face felt red, and my heart was still pounding. I could feel spunk trickling on my thighs, stockings, over my backside, and through my matted pussy hair! When I looked over at the old man I nearly died, he had my torn panties in his hand. He smiled again as he stuffed them into his pocket.

I just sat there as the bus rolled out into the countryside. My mind was confused as always, but my body wasn't. How could I have let that happen? Was this once again the real me coming out? Was I this bad or maybe worse before my amnesia? Why the hell was my pussy still twitching?

"You are a slut and a whore Christine, get used to it," I mumbled to myself.

I put my husband's tea down in front of him, and then the pictures I had printed off!

"I want answers, I want answers now!" I yelled.

I just stood with my arms crossed waiting for him to respond.

"What have you done?" he asked, "have you touched anything else on my computer?"

"Oh shit to your computer, explain this, explain to me, why you have these pictures, and then explain to me who the hell he is!" I yelled.

"That was Ray, your lover. The man you were going to run off with, before you found out you'd end up with nothing."

"You had me followed didn't you?"

"Well what the fuck do you think?" he snapped back. 

Again I sat on my bed staring at one of the pictures of the faceless man. Harry stayed away from me. I sat there trying to remember, willing myself to fill in the face in the picture. 

"Did you go to the pub?" I mumbled, 3 hours later. 

He took the picture from me. I looked up at him feeling my eyes stinging and red raw.

"I'll give you some money and you can leave. You'll have enough money to get by on for awhile, but then you are on your own."

I felt the tears roll again.

"No I didn't go to the pub. I went to see him, Ray I mean," he said sitting next to me on the bed.

"Why, why would you do that?"

He handed me a key and some money.

"I've only got £200 at the moment. That is the key to Ray's flat. He is different now. Even if you remembered him you won't recognise him. Not his looks, I mean him as a person."

The next day I sat in the car. Harry drove me back to our home town. I walked into the flat and put my foot in a takeaway carton. The flat smelt, and washing up was piled in the sink. I watched the flies crawl over plates that looked like they had food stains days old.

"Where is he?" I mumbled.

"Working, he's a dustman now, and a drunk it would appear," Harry said, as he kicked several bottles out of his way.

I walked slowly to the bedroom; the bed didn't even have a sheet on it. Clothes were strewn everywhere and the room smelt, badly.

"This was your love nest, although I suspect it was never this bad. Anyway he wants to see you, well when I mentioned I'd give you some money."

"What did he do, work I mean, before he was a dustman?"

"He worked for me," Harry replied watching my face.

I looked at the torn curtains that hung from the dirty windows.

"Go on leave me here, it's what I deserve," I said, as tears rolled down my cheeks.

He walked up to me.

"I'll give you one last chance Christine. You come back with me now and forget trying to force your memory. If you accept you have a life with me then I'll help you and look after you. But if you want to live in a shit pit, carry on, but don't expect money from me."

"Wait, you might not want to hear this and it might change your mind. But I want to be honest with you. I, I was touched up on the bus yesterday. I got a lift into town."

His eyes shot to me. He looked like he was going to ask something but he stopped himself.

"I, I was touched up, by, by these men, they, they," I stammered.

"Go on, tell me."

I didn't want to but I had to. I had to tell him the truth.

"I, I had an, or, orgasm, as they felt me up."

I waited for screaming and yelling, but he just watched me.

"Was that like the old me, was I bad like that? Harry, is that what the old Christine was like?" I sobbed.

"Maybe I should leave you here to rot. I'm sure lover boy will help spend your money in the pub."

I looked round the flat and saw well thumbed porn magazines. Every surface seemed to have a coat of dust and grime. All I knew was I didn't want to stay there a second longer. Harry picked a box up off the floor, it had a half eaten pizza in it. 

"Enjoy your new life," he said looking straight at me. 

"No please take me with you, I'm sorry, please Harry don't leave me here, please don't" I begged frantically. 

He walked towards me, and then I watched as he slowly tipped the pizza out. I shuddered and shrieked, as the pizza landed on my shin and slowly slip to my foot! He watched my cringing face with a sort of amused dirty grin.

"Why did you do that?" I whimpered as I kicked it off.

"I should have tipped it over your head," he snarled back.

He pushed me back onto the torn couch, and walked to the door.

"Harry, please don't leave me here," I sobbed.

I followed him out to the car a few steps behind him. I took one look back at the flat that had made me urge. I couldn't live like that not in a million years. I had nobody apart from a husband that forgave everything I had done. So this was my lot, this was my life; I just had to make the best of it, didn't I? 

Harry moved behind me as I washed up. It had been two days since the visit to the flat. We had hardily spoken to each other in that time, and now he was kissing my neck. I felt him slowly lifting my skirt up. His fingers crawled through the material like a spider. 

"Is this what the men did on the bus?" he panted in my ear.

I nodded slightly as his fingers tugged my panties and tights down slowly. I just stood there letting him strip my underwear. 

"Turn round, turn around," he repeated. 

I did slowly and saw him getting on his knees. I held my skirt up as he pulled my panties and tights down to my knees. He planted kisses on my pussy. I opened my legs as far as my underwear would allow me. He pulled my pussy lips apart with his thumbs. I gasped as he licked along my slit.

"Harry, you don't have to do this," I mumbled.

He looked up at me, "enjoy it, because you are going to suck me off afterwards."

His tongue swiped my pussy more firmly, as my head filled with thoughts of going down on my husband. I didn't want to, but I had to I suppose. 

His fat finger pushed into me, he was being rough and forceful. I just stood there feeling my wet pussy leaking. He moaned and groaned as his tongue slurped loudly on my pussy. Another finger slipped into me and I gasped. He just carried on for a few moments as I stood there shaking. 

He moved, pushing my jumper up and kissing my belly. I felt my bra being forced up, and then his wet tongue sucked on my hard nipple. It sent shock waves through my breast like I had never dreamed possible. It just tingled right through to somewhere deep inside.

"Oh shit that's good!" I whimpered.

He moved onto my other nipple, as his fingers dug deeper into me. Again the little electric shock feeling went straight through me. I looked at my exposed nipple, and I actually gasped at the size of it. It just stuck out firm and hard and tingling.




Amnesia Ch. 05



"My turn, suck me," he moaned.

"No finish me, fucking hell finish me," I spat.

He stood up and our eyes met. 

"I want a fucking blow job, get down there and do it."

I resisted the pressure on my shoulders for a short time. I could see the insistent look in my husband's eyes. I crumbled and slipped to my knees. I looked below his belly at the zip that held his cock behind it. I didn't want to do this but my husband didn't seem to care. I reached up and took hold of the zip, I pulled it down slowly. Harry grabbed my hair and twisted my face upwards to look at him.

"Go on do it," Harry hissed.

I pulled his cock out and closed my eyes. He was hard and eager, and then he grabbed hold of my hair again. I could hear his breathing building more and more. Then he just pulled me forward. His cock slipped in my mouth and he groaned. He tasted a little sweaty and I could feel his stomach on my forehead. I started sucking him as he pulled my head forward. He gasped and thrust forward as he held me tightly. I tried to push back on his plump thighs but I was held firm. In a few short jerks he exploded into my mouth. I wasn't ready; I just didn't expect it so soon. I had swallowed his first offering and I gagged a little as he squeezed his hairy balls against my chin. He panted and gasped with delight as I was made to swallow a little more. 

"You fucking slag," he grunted.

He pushed me off and looked down at my dishevelled state. My hair had fallen from the clips and I fingered my pussy and started to climax. He just watched me do it. I couldn't help it I just needed it so badly. I could taste him still in my mouth, a slightly salty sweaty taste. I didn't care I just had to get myself off!

He grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand out from between my legs. 

"Please, let me do it," I begged.

He smirked at me and let go of my hand. He watched as my orgasm rushed through me.

A week later and my hopes of regaining my memory seemed to fade. I was now stuck in this strange twilight, a sort of reluctant marriage, which offered me nothing more than a roof over my head, and the promise of money. I suppose the old Christine would have been happy with the money, but I wasn't sure what to think. Harry seemed to be more at ease with me. I suppose I had stopped asking questions about my past. But now and then he would seem to stare at me, he didn't think I noticed but I did. It was just like he was waiting for me to do something, or if he was trying to figure something out. 

"It's the village festival next weekend. I've said we'll help out."

"Doing what exactly?" I asked.

Harry shrugged, "I don't know a stall or something. Anyway they want you to play the part of Nina."

"I don't want to, I don't know what to do, and who is Nina?"

"I don't know some gypsy girl from 150 years back. They do this every year, I've said you'll do it, it might be fun."

"Yeah right," I mumbled sarcastically under my breath.

Two days later the doctor came to see me. I sat there telling him I couldn't remember anything else. 

"Good, good," he mumbled as he took my blood pressure.

"Good? What do you mean good?" I shrieked.

His eyes shot to Harry for a second.

"Sorry Christine, I wasn't really listening, well not like I should have been. Still you seem to be coping better now."

I sat in the chair wondering about Doctor Harvey. Sometimes I would see the occasional glance at my nipples. I suppose they stuck out and asked for it, but he was a doctor!

He chatted with Harry in the hall before he left. I couldn't make out what they were saying.

"He said you can come off the pills when you finish them at the end of month."

I looked at Harry as he smiled at me. One thing bugged me; I was the patient why didn't the doctor tell me!

"Maybe I should start seeing my own GP."

"You don't have a doctor. He retired and shut the surgery down a month before the fire. And before you ask, no we don't have your notes, he sent them to our house, and they were burnt."

An hour later I caught Harry writing a cheque. He held it up so I could see it. I could tell by the look on his face he was waiting for me to ask him about it. He started before I could ask him anything.

"It's for a charity, for blind people, is that OK with you?" he asked sarcastically.

"Don't you think we had better be a little more careful, until the insurance pays out?"

"Every year I give £1000 to the blind. What's up, worried I'm not spending it on you?"

"Why, why are you giving money away? Do you think I'll be impressed or something?" 

"Well, that's more like the real you," he sat back and stared deep into my eyes, "my mother went blind 5 years before she died, so once a year I send a small donation, satisfied?"

I stood there crying for sometime.

That night Harry cuddled into my back. He pulled me back against his belly, and started to kiss my neck. I know all through this I said I didn't fancy Harry, but his lips made me tingle. I was also getting quite wet between my legs. This went on for a few minutes, and as I went to ask him if he wanted to fuck me, I heard him snore! Great, the only time I wanted him and he had fallen asleep. Still maybe I was finally getting used to him. Maybe after all I had been through I was starting to behave more like a wife should behave. I hoped with this I would finally start to remember. It made sense I suppose. Instead of trying to fight everything I didn't like, I should just relax and hope I could start to get my memory back. Maybe if Harry lost weight I'd fancy him, he wasn't real ugly or anything, just fat. Still we had money; at least we could buy a new house somewhere, and start all over again, if that was what I really wanted. 

Then again if we did divorce, I didn't see why I couldn't have some money, well not half, but then again why not! 

The next day I took my noon pill and counted up the rest. Soon I would be able to forget about these bloody things. Harry giving money to charity amazed me. He just didn't seem the type. But what did I know; I was still finding out things about my husband. Maybe I should look at what was good about him for a change, and not worry about my selfish needs for once?

An hour later I jumped, as I heard the window cleaner's ladder bang against the side of the house.



Amnesia Ch. 06



I smiled as he climbed the ladder. I went inside to make him a drink, we had chatted for a few minutes about nothing really. But his eyes kept glancing to my breasts. His name was Andy and he was 21 years old. God he had a fit body, I had to prise my eyes from his ass as he went up the ladder. Those tight little shorts had me lusting after him even more!

"Andy your coffee is ready," I called.

I don't know why I felt so randy. I suppose being on my own most of the day didn't help. But I just seemed to feel turned on all day. I had gotten into a strange little routine. When Harry went to work I would play with myself until I climaxed. Just after lunch I would go and lie down and touch myself again. Doing the house work even seemed to stimulate me. I'd get more and more flustered just because the vacuum cleaner vibrated. I would put my foot on it and feel the motor send the vibration up my leg. Did the old Christine do this too? Andy smiled down at me, or rather my cleavage. I had on a low cut top. As he came slowly down the ladder I felt my pussy dribble into my panties. I glanced quickly at his bulge that hung to the left today. I felt hot and clammy just because of this sexy hunk, and god that grin of his. I felt like a teenager, I was running my hands through my hair and shifting awkwardly. I suppose I was sending him all the right signals, but why was I behaving like this? He was flirting with me now. That sexy smile and those brilliant white teeth just had my pussy oozing. He pushed a hair out of my eye with his fingers and I blushed. 

"Well I had better do the back windows," he said.

I watched him slide the top part of the ladder down. I followed him round to the back of the house. There I was carrying his bucket, like a besotted schoolgirl would with her boyfriend's school books. I tried telling myself I was just being stupid, I tried telling myself I was a married woman. But I did tell myself I'd give anything to get his cock out and ram it up me! I went back into the house. I couldn't do it. But boy when he left my pussy would get a treat!

"Ouch shit!"

I went out to the back garden; there he was nursing a cut on his thigh. I gave him a tea towel and told him to press it against the cut. He hobbled into the house as I got the first aid kit out of the cupboard.

I knelt down and began to clean the wound. He winced a little.

"Shut up baby," I said, as he winced again.

"OK honey," he replied.

I glanced up at his face and we grinned at each other sharing the joke. I wrapped a bandage around his thigh. As I unrolled it I suddenly realised my fingers were skimming over his lovely tanned leg, and that bulge was just a foot from my face! It looked even better close up, and just inches from my hand. I looked up into his eyes he shifted them from my cleavage; he seemed to be holding himself rigid. My breathing had become heavier, and my fingers trembled. I carried on wrapping the bandage around his leg, but my hands worked slower, and I deliberately let my fingers skim over his bare thigh. His cock seemed to stiffen a little. The bulge it made was now down the leg of his shorts and just 2 inches from becoming exposed. 

"Hold the end, I'll, I'll tape it," I mumbled.

When I turned back his cock was just an inch from the hem of his shorts. I couldn't take my eyes off of it as I fixed the tape. I was done now bandaging his leg, shit I had to let go. I didn't want to, not yet. I smoothed my fingers over the bandage and looked up into his eyes. He was looking down on me and gulping. I looked back to his leg and the bulge in his shorts. I slowly moved my fingers up his thigh. I gasped a little as my trembling fingers found the hem of his shorts. My fingers went up under the hem of his shorts. We both gasped as I touched his hot cock head. I pushed his shorts up exposing the purple head of his cock. God it felt smooth, and the way it jerked had my heart racing. I didn't look up at Andy; I was scared in case he stopped me. I moved forward and my lips kissed the tip of his cock. It was still against his thigh, but I managed to twist my head and get it in my mouth. 

"Oh fucking hell yes," he gasped.

I swirled my tongue around it encouraged by his enthusiasm. I just couldn't let go of it. He pushed my head off and in a frenzy pulled his shorts down. It just sprang straight up in front of me. My pussy was flowing freely now. I moved forward looking up into his eyes. He was panting hard and watching me with a lust filled expression. I took him in my mouth, god I was eager! My head rolled as my mouth wanted to give every part of his hard thick dick a good sucking. Nothing else mattered, and I mean nothing. It was like I was programmed to suck his cock, by some mysterious force! I didn't care if the queen walked in, there was no way I was letting this dick out of my mouth, unless it was going straight into my gushing cunt! 

"Oh fuck me, Jesus you are fucking crazy!" Andy hissed, as I locked my mouth over his cock.

My mouth was making obscene slurping noises; it just seemed to spur me on. I kept sucking hard and forcing as much as I could in my mouth. I choked and gagged, as he moaned and groaned, and swore from time to time. Finally I just had to stop and take a breath.

"Will you fuck me, please Andy, please fuck me will you shag me?"

The words I spat out were gasping and desperate. My mouth was back on his cock even before I had finished.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he gasped.

He pushed me off his cock and I fell back on the floor. He watched spellbound as the whore on the floor began ripping her panties with both hands. I tore and I tugged until my wet pussy was winking up at that solid 8 inches. He slipped into me with one easy shove. He started banging into me, his cock rammed hard as my pussy squelched. He panted in excitement right next to my ear. My orgasm just started and went on and on. I screamed and I hissed which made him fuck me as hard as he could. 

"Should, should I pull out?" he gasped.

"No fucking way!" I snarled back.

His ass banged harder and my orgasm just seemed to keep on. He was grunting and thrusting and giving me everything he could. Those 8 thick inches kept sliding in and almost out! I had my legs around his hips now and I was kicking his ass. I wanted more, just more and more. I couldn't control my craving. When he started shooting I dug my heels in. I clamped him there as he unloaded into me. Even when he had finally finished I wouldn't let him out. 

"Get it hard again, fuck me again please Andy, please?" I begged.

He had to forcibly move my legs from him. When he got up I saw the shocked look on his face. 

"God you are a, a fucking machine," he mumbled in disbelief.

I pulled my skirt down covering my bloated pussy, I could feel his spunk running out and I didn't want him to see it. He was gone within seconds. I turned sideways on the kitchen floor feeling every part of me ache. I was almost in robot mode as I washed myself in the bath. Married or not no woman should have behaved like that. Even the look on Andy's face had told me that, he thought I was a right whore. Well was I? So this was the old Christine tormenting me. Why wouldn't she let me remember anything? Why did she just turn me into a crazed tart from time to time? This wasn't fair on anyone, my husband or me. But what could I do, I seemed to have no control over my body. Even if I did leave my husband what would become of me? I didn't want this, I wanted a normal marriage, and I wanted to know who I really was!

That night I could barely look at my husband, he didn't seem to notice. He just went to his study and worked on his computer. I looked up at the wedding picture. Why did I have such a big smile if I was marrying him for his money? Something else I noticed too. I went into the study, Harry closed his computer.

"Where is my wedding ring?" I asked.

He just stared at me.

"Harry why haven't I got a wedding ring on, where is it?"

I grabbed his arm as he went past me. He could see I was angry, but why didn't he answer me?

"I haven't got one. What did you sell it? Or was it just borrowed to take the bloody photo? Harry, don't walk away from me."

I started thinking. So that is it, we are not married. I am not his wife. I have been kidnapped or abducted. Bastard, you fucking bastard, you've stolen my life. 

I watched him put a ring on the desk. He looked at me.

"You said you wouldn't wear it when you found out you couldn't get at my money. When you found out you'd get nothing if you divorced me, you threw it at me."

I picked it up and looked at it. When I looked at Harry tears were streaming down my face. I held out the ring and then my finger. 

"Please put it on me. Please will you put it on me and forgive me?" I sobbed.

He slipped the ring on my finger.

"Harry I'm sorry for all the shit I've given you, even the shit I don't know I've done. You are all I've got, I need you but I can't help these feelings. I wish I could, I wish I could turn back the clock and we could start all over again."

"I thought I could tame you Christine. Even now when we seem to get into a settled patch you come out with this shit. You really don't believe you are who I say you are. Do you Christine?"

I went to stroke his cheek but he moved away.

"I've given you all the evidence I can; the fire took everything, every fucking thing! My friends warned me about marrying you; I thought I could change you. Then when the fire happened and you lost your memory I thought this is it, our chance."

He took my hand and looked at the ring on my finger.

"You know, sometimes I pray you don't get your memory back, sometimes I wish I could stop you from finding out, or at least filter out the bad things. When you do find out, I don't know what will happen."

"I'll try for you, I promise I will."

He let go of my hand and walked to the door.

"You know, maybe I should kick you out, nobody would blame me."

That night in bed I cuddled up to him. I looked at the ring on my finger. Was this my life now, should I just try and forget about wanting my memory back?

"Are you really that scared I'll start to remember things?"

"What do you think?" he replied.

"Well even if I do, I don't want those things, I mean, I, I won't be like I was back then, I'm sure I won't. Harry, I'm sure we can be happy, or I hope we can. I have just got to think like I am now. The old Christine can't change me if she comes back, we can't let her."

I was trying to give him some encouragement. I don't know if I was getting anywhere, but I had to try. I hadn't forgotten what I had done with Andy earlier, but like I said I think there was something forcing me. The next time I felt that way I would have to fight harder, as hard as I could to resist. I owed that to my husband I know, but how many false starts could I allow myself? No this had to be it; I had to make up for everything by trying my hardest. But how could I make up for trying to have him killed!

"Harry, you know when we fucked the first time when I came home?"

"Yeah, I remember," he said.

"Well were you scared, I mean you were nervous, why?"

"I don't know," he chuckled, "it was like our first time together I suppose."

I thought about what he had said. I remembered having to put his cock in me, at the time I didn't think he had ever fucked anyone let alone his wife! God I must have scared him in the past to make him so uncertain.

"Do you want to fuck me now?" I asked.

He looked at me and gulped.

"Let's pretend we have just got married. Let's put everything behind us. Fuck me Harry; I'll do whatever you want me to. I'm your wife fuck me like we have just got married."

I watched him kiss my wedding ring. I smiled at him hoping I was pleasing him. This was me trying to give him what I should have done ages ago. OK I had married him for his money back then, but now I wanted to try to get to know my husband. His tongue circled my nipple and it grew even harder. 

"What do you like Harry? What turns you on?" I whispered.

20 minutes later he was on the bed. I stood up at the headboard with my palms against the wall, wearing black stockings and red panties. He was below me kissing my feet as I gently brushed them over his face. 

"Do you really like this?" 

He groaned approval as he kissed and sniffed. 

"I think they are wet enough now Harry, are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," he gasped.

"Can you see how moist they are? I've had them on all day," I cooed, as I played my foot over his cheek.

His eyes looked up gazing at my crotch. I slipped a finger on my clit and gently rubbed it.

"I'm playing with myself again, like I did today, making my panties all wet, all soggy."

I slipped them down until they covered his face. I heard him sniff. I turned round leaving my wet panties over his eyes, nose, and mouth. I sat down on the head board. I put my left foot on his chest. He gasped and groaned. Slowly I trailed my nylon clad foot down his stomach, watching my pink painted toes through the black nylon. He moaned louder as my foot touched the tip of his cock. I flicked it and he jerked. I lightly pressed my other foot over my panties that covered his face. I could feel the wetness of my panties through my stocking on the sole of my foot. Harry was panting and grunting.

"Naughty boy," I teased, as I kicked his hand away from his cock, and then I chuckled dirtily.

"God you're fucking incredible," he groaned.

I put my feet either side of him and lowered my backside onto his face, trapping my crumpled drenched panties between my ass and his red face. I rolled my hips slightly sending my ass and pussy over his nose and mouth. He let out a long low lust filled moan.

"Do you really like that?" I asked softly.

"Fucking hell yeah!" he mumbled, through my wet pussy and panties.

I carried on holding my weight a little on my arms. My feet were now wrapped around his cock.

"I thought I'd wear those panties tomorrow. So you had better be ready tomorrow night."

He gasped and groaned. I flicked the end of his cock. He juddered and I watched his spunk hit the top of my foot. There wasn't much, just a small white puddle.

"Oh, oh shit!" Harry gasped. 

I looked at the white spunk that soaked through my stocking. I lifted my ass off his face. My husband was still panting into my panties making them billow. 

"Will you tie me up next time?" he panted.

I smiled at him but I didn't want to answer his question, "maybe, one step at a time." 

I left him and went to the loo. I looked at my reflection. So that is what he likes, maybe, after a while, I'd get to like it too; well I had to hope I would.

Life wasn't going to be easy for me I knew that. I suppose though I was wondering if I would ever get my memory back. How long does amnesia last, weeks, months, years, a whole life time? I knew I had done some pretty awful things to my husband and my friends. But did I really deserve the mess I was in now? I also couldn't ignore the sexual side of things. I was bad, very bad. But just lately I craved sex, and not just once a day. Sex was constantly on my mind. Not one hour went by that I hadn't thought about sex, most of the time it was just touching my pussy. But as soon as I went near a man, I just went overboard! Even the shopkeeper filled my head from time to time. Harry was taking me to the village pub again, and all I could think about was if Thomas would be there! I tried kidding myself that I had dressed to please my husband. But when I walked in the pub I knew men would stare. My panties were already feeling a little damp but I didn't care. 

I could hear the old Christine egging me on, "go on girl, go and flaunt yourself. Your husband tricked you, he knew all you wanted was his money, but you can't divorce him, you are stuck with him unless he divorces you."

I tried ignoring her. I didn't want her dictating to me. I wanted to be happy with my husband, or at least try to be. So there I stood looking at the tart in the mirror. My blonde hair pilled up on top of my head. My eyes made up dark and thick, and my lips with a dark red lipstick that begged to be kissed. I wore a tight black top that hung off my left shoulder exposing it. My loose red skirt was 8 inches off my knee. I wore black tights with dots on, big dots and little dots. My shoes were red, and high, 5 inch heels hoisted me off the floor. But those huge tits and hard nipples would get a lot of attention too.

"Harry, are you sure I look OK? I think I ought to wear a bra, my nipples seem to stick right out, Harry, Harry?"

His face just looked on in amazement. Until he snapped himself out of it. 

"You look great, you look fine."

Eyes rolled over my body as I walked in the pub on my husband's arm. We went up to the bar and I found myself stood next to Thomas. He looked me over as I tried to ignore him. Harry pushed me up on a stool as he bought Thomas a drink. I tried to keep my hem down my crossed thighs, but I knew Thomas could see more than he should. He was facing me on the opposite stool. He had opened his legs and trapped my crossed legs between his! He knew I felt uncomfortable, every now and then he would move his leg against mine. He talked to Harry who was stood behind me with his arm over my bare shoulder. His fingers tickled and stroked my soft skin. I found myself not really listening to my husband's conversation with Thomas. I just sipped my drink and watched Thomas's eyes open wide. I had started rubbing my crossed foot, just an inch or two, low down on his leg. My eyes burnt into his as my husband waffled on. My hand that lay across my lap, moved back when I relaxed back against Harry. Of course it took my hem with it slightly. I watched the shopkeepers eyes drop to my thighs. I just raised an eyebrow and sipped my wine. 

"Do you want another wine Christine?"

"Make it a large one," I purred, as my eyes left Thomas's eyes and looked down at his crotch. 

I looked down at my thighs. The darker control tops of my tights were visible now, and Thomas just took the chance to ogle me when Harry turned to the bar.

"I'm sorry I got drunk the other day," he whispered as he leant forward.

I felt his hand on my thigh. I just looked down at it as it travelled slowly up my leg. 

"You better not let my husband catch you doing that. If he comes back from the loo and sees you..."

"I don't care," he hissed interrupting me.

I just fixed my eyes on his and opened my legs slightly. His hand travelled up the nylon and under my hem.

"God you are..."

"Wet? I know," I said with smouldering eyes.

"I want to fuck you," he hissed.

"You, and most of the men in the pub," I purred back.

I looked round and saw eyes watching us, lots of eyes. He licked his lips, and smiled at the men who just sat watching. It gave him confidence to prod my wet panties further.

"You had better stop now, I told you I'm working on him. Pick me up on Thursday and take me into town."

I pressed my crossed leg down which trapped his hand. I just grinned at him sexily, and then moved my leg letting his hand retract. Again I had a reason to go into town, but I needed an alibi. But after what I had just seen I knew I could use Thomas, and Harry wouldn't question me, that is if my eyes hadn't lied. Harry had told me that he knew the bus driver. They had met in the pub at some point. They got talking and he told the bus driver about me. So I was trapped and I couldn't use the bus. So, my only way out was Thomas. It was something I had only noticed earlier that day. I still had the 3 wedding pictures that only showed Harry, Joey, mum, and me. In the picture I had big breasts, but how was this possible if I had been married before my breast enlargement, which only happened 7 days before the fire! Once again I was convinced something was going on. Harry seemed to have answers to everything, but now, instead of losing it in front of him, I decided to keep things to myself, and not hit him straight away with things I found odd. I knew I was free to walk away from Harry at anytime, but that wouldn't help me find out the truth about me and who I am, that was if Harry was lying to me. When we got home after the pub I still felt horny, even with everything going on around me I needed sex. With what I had seen earlier I just hopped I had got this right. I took the lead again and this time I had Harry tied to the bed like he wanted. I was again stood up over his face and idly rubbing my foot over his chest.




Amnesia Ch. 06



As always, my thanks to Erik Thread for his editing skills and dedication to helping me make this a better story. Any errors are mine alone.

*

The wheels of justice ground slowly. Tony and Nina were meeting every Friday evening and parting each Sunday afternoon. This would be their life for the time being. Martin could offer no optimism that charges would be laid soon against the three vice presidents of Carbutt, Mellows and Davidson. He wasn't even sure Stanton Mellows would be charged. All of them were out on bail, so the potential danger was still there. Knowing the F.B.I., their phones would be tapped, but they would probably figure that out themselves and find other methods of communication.

Tony told Martin he was now certain Stanton had tipped the three criminals that he was onto them. He said he had a hard time thinking that a man as bright and tough-minded as Stanton would do it by mistake. He admitted he was getting angry again, just thinking about the duplicity and avarice of the four. He had promised Nina he would not go back there, not back to that dark place he had been before.

In the meantime, Nina was being tortured by their constant separation, though she never once complained. She was grateful for their weekends and said she was pretending he was travelling on business during the week. She was thankful for the presence of the children and Mrs. Martinez during the week. It was at night, when they talked on the phone, that she admitted her longing for the touch and comfort of her husband.

A month had gone by since Tony and Nina had reunited. They were relaxing in bed on Saturday morning, talking about their family and their plans for the future. Tony was in the middle of a comment about Nina's family when he sat bolt upright.

"Shit! That's who it was! Why didn't I think of it before!" he exclaimed. 

"What?" Nina responded, jolted by his abrupt reaction.

"Magda! It was Magda!" he said, turning to look at his wife.

Nina had a perplexed look and shook her head. "What are you talking about? What about Magda?"

"Do you remember Martin asking if you had been in the Precinct House asking about me several weeks ago?"

Nina nodded solemnly. "So you figured it out."

"You didn't say anything when Martin asked you. Why?"

"You know how I feel about her," she said, turning away.

"She must have been looking for me? She would know from your mother I was missing."

Nina and Magda had been estranged since their late teens. Nina accused Magda of stealing her boyfriend not once, but twice. The second time, Nina was expecting James Durant to propose any day. She found them in Magda's little basement photo studio, naked, taking pictures of each other. She had forgiven James and Magda the first time, but this second time, there would be no forgiveness. For either!

Nina moved out as soon as she was able. While the two were together for family occasions, Nina refused to acknowledge or speak to her younger sister. They co-existed in the same room for however long the family required, but they had no communications with each other. Their mother had been upset and angry with Magda, but pleaded with Nina to forgive her. Nina would not. She had been betrayed twice. Forgiveness was not forthcoming. Their father wisely stayed out of the conflict, letting his wife deal with it. It had remained a point of division still, over twenty years later.

"Why would Magda be looking for me?" Tony wondered aloud.

"Maybe she thought if she found you she could steal you away from me," Nina snapped.

Tony turned and looked at Nina with a sad smile. "It's time, Nina. Time to reconcile. This is a new beginning for us. Why don't you make it a new beginning with Magda, too."

Nina turned away from him, hiding her tears. Tony's placed his soft hand on her bare shoulder, pulling her toward him. She rolled into his comforting arms and sobbed quietly into his chest. 

"Is it really twenty years?" she asked. "I was going to marry him, you know. He was going to ask me and I was going to say yes. Just think how different things might have been."

"So ... maybe ... Magda did you a favor? She surely did me one." 

Magda hadn't married herself. She was a well known photographer and had her own studio, but James had never been part of Magda's life after "that day."

As the sobs subsided, Nina looked up at her husband and smiled. "Yes. You're right. A new beginning for all of us. I guess after this long, I can forgive. I should do it for Mama too. I know I hurt her when I wouldn't accept Magda's apologies. I guess I was too angry at first ... and then ... too stubborn. Besides, I have you, and that's much more than she has." She had a slightly triumphant look. 

"Thank you. Perhaps now, when we go to your parents' place, there will be peace in the valley," he chuckled.

She nodded and buried herself into his chest once more. They held each other for several minutes before Tony stirred.

"Time to get going, girl."

"Start the shower. I'll be there in a minute." 

Tony was in the shower when Nina finally entered and wrapped her arms around her husband. It wasn't a playful hug, but a loving one.

"I called Magda. I left a message. I'll go there this afternoon if she'll see me."

Tony turned in her arms and kissed her deeply. "That took a lot of courage. I'm proud of you. I hope it turns out well," he said, pulling her back into his body.

Nina's cell phone rang as they were finishing breakfast in the hotel restaurant. She answered and almost immediately rose and walked out into the lobby. It would be Magda. 

It was almost twenty minutes and another cup of coffee later that Nina returned. She was smiling and wiping tears from her cheeks as she did so. She leaned over and kissed her husband before sitting.

"You are so smart. So wise."

"Are you going to see her today?"

"Yes. Later this afternoon when she closes the shop. I won't be late for our dinner though." 

"Why don't you invite Magda to join us?"

"You don't think she'll feel a bit odd? By herself, I mean?"

"I can fix that," he grinned. "I'll invite Martin."

Nina laughed. "So ... you want to play matchmaker, do you?"

"No such thing. It's just like inviting a fourth for bridge." 

"Go ahead. Call him. But I won't be responsible for the consequences." 

Tony sat back as he pulled the new cell phone from his pocket. A minute later he was talking to the detective and inviting him to a late meal at Amnesia. Martin would never turn down an invitation to a free meal cooked by his friend. Tony neglected to mention Magda.

"You are devious, my husband." 

Tony shrugged. "Martin has been trying to figure out who that was at his precinct, so now he'll know. I think we owe him that much."

Just before eight, Carl looked and did a classic double-take as the two look-alike sisters pranced into the tavern, arm in arm. 

"Holy ...," his voice trailed off. "Isn't one babe enough for this guy?" 

The girls laughed and left Carl to wander into the kitchen, looking over his shoulder more than once at the two attractive women. He returned, shaking his head.

"The usual, Nina?" 

"Yes please, Carl. And this is Magda, my sister. She'll have the same," she said brightly.

If the energy coming off the two women had been any stronger, they would have left a trail of sparks as they moved to the reserved table by the window. Their entrance had been noticed by the usual single men at the bar as well as several of the couples at tables. 

Martin Polikoff made his appearance fifteen minutes later, expecting to see Nina, but pulled the same double-take that Carl had displayed a few minutes earlier. An uncertain look crept over his face as he approached the table cautiously. 

"Good evening," he said with a suspicious look.

The women burst out laughing. Nina stood and hugged Martin. "I'm sorry, Martin, we shouldn't have done that ... but we couldn't resist. This is my sister, Magda," she said, as the other woman rose.

"Are you twins?" 

"No ... but I guess we do look enough alike that many people think we are. We thought it was only fair that you meet the woman in the photograph. The one you were asking about," Nina explained.

"Well, I'm glad you cleared that up." He turned to Magda. "Will you be joining us for dinner?" 

"Absolutely! I hear Tony is a fabulous cook and I'm looking forward to sampling his wares," Magda exclaimed, suddenly putting her hand over her mouth. "Oh ... that came out wrong," she said with a worried look at Nina.

Nina smiled and put her hand over Magda's as it gripped the edge of the table. "Relax, sister," she said, turning to the detective. "I'll explain all this later, Martin."

Magda nodded, visibly relieved, and turned to Martin. "Nina tells me you're a policeman. A detective." 

"Yes ... but not for much longer. I'll have my twenty years in soon and will happily take my retirement." 

"What will you do? You're still a young man." 

"Thank you. It's nice to hear that. The answer is ... I don't know yet. I'm sure I'll step away from security or detective work for a while at least. I need something completely different. I don't have obligations to anyone but my son, and he's in school learning ... if you'll believe it ... to be a cook," he laughed.

Magda shook her head. "It's amazing, isn't it? Everything seems to be connected somehow. Do you have a hobby to distract you, Martin?"

The policeman brightened. "Yes ... I enjoy photography."

The two women looked at each other in amazement before bursting out laughing again.

"What's so funny," he asked, wearing a bewildered look.

"Magda is a professional photographer. You've heard of Novak Studios?" Nina asked. 

"Yes ... of course." He stopped for a moment and turned to Magda. "That's you?"

She nodded. "Yes ... that's me. This is getting stranger by the minute." 

Martin's eyebrows arched in agreement as he sat looking at the younger Novak. "I'd be interested in seeing your studio some time, Magda," he finally managed.

"Just her studio?" Nina giggled.

Martin blushed and looked anywhere but at the two women. He leaned back, picked up his beer and silently saluted the two. 

Tony escaped the kitchen just before nine to announce that dinner was only a few minutes away. Standing between the two sisters, he placed his hands on their shoulders, bending over to kiss first Nina's cheek and then Magda's. As he did, he whispered to them, "I am so happy to see you two together." He received watery-eyed smiles in return. 

He refused to announce the entrée, but promised them something special. He was preparing samplers of four different entrées. Stuffed peppers, dumplings stuffed with cheese and bacon, a mixed grill, featuring a thin pork steak and finally, classic German coleslaw and an authentic Greek salad. He had used his afternoon break to run to the European deli a few blocks away. It was there he could find the cheeses and special bacon.

When he returned to the table, the serving girl helped him with the platters and the stack of plates. He started to explain what each dish was but before he got through the first entrée, the girls were ahead of him and even Martin knew what most of it was.

"Hey, Martin, how do you know about this food?" Tony demanded.

"I'm of Polish-Russian descent. My mother is Polish-born and my father, Russian. I'm first generation American. Polish, Russian, and Hungarian food all have similarities, depending on what part of the country you lived in. I recognize the dumplings. They are like the ones my mother used to make and every country in Eastern Europe and the Middle East has a stuffed pepper dish." 

"Well then, I guess I don't have to worry about strange food putting you off," he said with a satisfied grin. "The girls have been spoiled by Mama Novak's food."

When the meal was finished, the four sat back and enjoyed the last of the bottle of wine. The conversation had been lively until the food overtook their senses. Not a single thing remained from what Tony would normally serve to five or six people.

"That was wonderful, Tony," Magda said, raising her wine glass.

"Yes ... here's to the chef," Martin agreed, also raising his glass in salute.

"You folks have to promise me something," Tony said. They all looked at him curiously.

"You have to solemnly promise that you will never tell Mama Novak that I make Hungarian dishes. She is a wonderful and traditional cook and I think it would destroy her good feelings toward me." 

The promise was given by all. "We'll pretend you just cook Italian food," Magda laughed.

"Oh No! Don't do that. Just tell her that I make a great grilled cheese sandwich." 

None of them wanted the evening to end so they decided to carry on together. Martin had come by cab so he wouldn't have to worry about having more than one drink. Tony asked Carl to order a mini-van cab and they adjourned to the Starlight Club. Soft music for the over-thirty crowd. 

Martin and Magda had hit it off and were talking about themselves as they danced. Magda had never married, she said, because she had never found "Mr. Right." Martin had divorced almost ten years ago when his wife could no long stand the tension and worry over his safety. To Martin, it wasn't an issue. To Sheila Polikoff, it was always on her mind. Every time she saw or read another story of police officers being killed or wounded on the job, she shivered in fear. 

Magda asked Martin if he would try and reconcile with his ex-wife when he retired, but learned it was too late. She had re-married, and by all accounts he was a nice guy and she was happy. Martin had regrets, but knew he had made his choice many years before. He told Magda it was out of his system now, but in his heart he would always be proud of being a cop, especially proud of making Detective Sergeant. 

Nina sat in the comfortable booth with Tony, her head on his shoulder and their hands intertwined. They had just come off the dance floor and she wore a blissful look. They watched as Magda and Martin danced. The two were close and their smiles announced that they were enjoying themselves. 

"Do you suppose they're talking about photography?" Tony asked.

"I hope not. By the look on their faces, it's more interesting than that."

-0-

The reunion and reconciliation of the sisters that afternoon had been very emotional. Nina had been very tentative on the phone, hoping that Magda would at least see her and allow her to apologize for all the years they had lost. Magda surprised her by breaking down and begging her forgiveness for the horrible thing she had done to Nina so many years earlier.

As they calmed down, Magda asked her to come to the studio. They would talk there. It was a tearful reunion, but it restored the two women. Nina promised to forgive and forget. Magda apologized. They talked and hugged and cried and talked some more. When they were done, they were laughing and telling old stories from their childhood.

Later, Nina would tell Tony of the sense of relief she felt that afternoon. She hadn't just forgiven her sister. She had forgiven herself for being so stubborn as to deny her only sibling a chance to make amends. They were back where they were many years ago and they were anxious to tell their mother and father the good news. That would happen tomorrow.

They talked about Tony and the trauma and transformation that he had gone through. Nina was hopeful that this was the beginning of a new, exciting chapter in their lives. They were coming back to New York City to live. They would be close to family again. Magda would be able to see her niece and nephews more often. The sisters could spend time together as they once did. 

Magda had done well for herself. Her studio was well-regarded and she had more commission work than she could comfortably handle. The assistance of Emil Garrett, the now-elderly former owner of the studio, had become essential and she was beginning to look for another person. 

She had dated, but in her opinion, none of the men she met were marriage material. Most of them never even got a second date. They all seemed to be focused on themselves, she told Nina. Their careers, their interests, their accomplishments. She had almost resigned herself to permanent single status she admitted. She was in her late thirties, but she was losing hope that she would find that special man.

When Nina told her they had invited Martin Polikoff to have dinner with them, she was curious. That was until Nina filled her in on what Martin was doing to help them and how much effort he was putting in to restore their lives to normalcy. 

She also suggested that Martin was quite unusual. He was quiet and yet a very good conversationalist. He had a wide general knowledge thanks to his inherent curiosity. Nina said that he was a very good listener and very observant about people's behavior. 

The girls were in high spirits when they jumped in the cab and headed for Amnesia that evening. Tony would be happy that they had made up and that the sisters were reunited. The "new Tony" said it was important and Nina wasn't going to let him down.  

-0-

Martin Polikoff picked up the telephone receiver and punched the flashing button.

"Polikoff."

"It's me, your favorite redneck." 

"Hi Frank. What's up?"

"Maybe some good news. You want to meet at Lorenzo's?"

"Sure. Seven o'clock good?"

"See you there."

Frank Lafayette had already arrived and commandeered a booth away from most of the other patrons. He was halfway through his first beer as Martin slipped into the seat across from him.

They exchanged the usual pleasantries before Frank got to the point.

"One of the three V.P.s cracked, just like we hoped he would. He spilled the whole thing, including the hiring of what they thought was a hit man."

"Great. Do you have the guy?" Martin asked. 

"Not yet. He's supposed to be back tomorrow morning. We'll pick him up then."

"Where's he from?"

"Jersey. He ain't no hit man. He's a career thug with a string of arrests and a couple of convictions. We've got him on a parole violation to start. He'll get an attempted murder wrap in time. The three bozos will get a conspiracy charge. We can have them in jail for a long time before they ever even get charged for the fraud.

"I arranged for someone to call you when it's done so you can tell Marino he can come out of hiding. I've told our people he's still alive but on ice. You should steer clear of this for a day or so until the bullshit dies down. Unfortunately, your friend is going to be a celebrity whether he likes it or not."

Martin sat back in the booth and exhaled. "Thank Christ this is over with. Maybe after the circus leaves town, he can get his life back."

"Yeah. Somebody will probably want to buy his story for a bunch of dough, but that's his problem. Anyway, he'll be OK if he's giving us the straight goods."

"Which guy was it that talked?"

"Uh ... Conrad Blyer," Frank said, looking at his notes.

"Did you have to cut a deal?"

"Yeah. But only on the murder charge. When he finds out Milano's still alive, he's goin' to shit himself and then do it all over again when his lawyer tells him that his plea bargain ain't going to keep him out of jail."

"Damn ... that's good news," Martin said, raising his beer bottle in salute.

"What about the big guy ... Mellows?"

"Don't know. Maybe we don't have enough to convict and are waiting for one of the other three to talk. He's not a threat though. The guy who hired the so-called hit man was Stainsby and he did it through some sleaze-ball buddy who runs a bar in Newark. No wonder it got screwed up."

"Frank ... thanks for helping. I owe you," Martin said. 

"Don't thank me yet. It don't hit the fan 'til tomorrow. Just keep your head down for a couple of days," he grinned. "In the meantime ... I'll have another beer."




Amnesia Ch. 06



They ate and talked and generally enjoyed the meal and each other's company. Martin was accustomed to eating alone and Frank was accustomed to chaos at the dinner table. 

But things were changing for Martin. He had a date with Magda on Friday. It was for dinner and dancing at the Riverside Lounge. Soft jazz and a sexy woman. It had been a long time between dates.

He sat in his unmarked car and pulled out his cell phone. He looked at if for a moment, then snapped the lid shut. He pulled away from the curb, heading in the direction of a familiar tavern.

Carl acknowledged Martin's arrival with a smile and walked to the kitchen doors, returning in a few seconds. "The usual?"

"Yeah, and get one for Tony ... I mean John ... please."

Carl gave him a funny look and then pulled the handle on the draft ale spout, pouring two.

Martin put a ten dollar bill on the counter, but Carl waved him off. He left a two dollar tip instead before heading to a small table near the back. 

Tony came out through the kitchen doors and smiled as he found Martin. He sat with a thump in the upholstered chair and sighed heavily.

"This has been a long day, my friend. I'm ready for this," he said, holding up the dark ale.

"Well ... it may be that I'm going to make this one of your better days," Martin smiled.

Tony perked up immediately, paying close attention to his friend.

"They've found the guy ... the one who tried to ... to take you out," he said finally. "They're picking him up tomorrow morning. I'll be getting a call when he's in custody. We don't think they'll grant bail on this one. I think it's almost over, Tony."

Tony looked at Martin, speechless. 

"Martin ... I can't quite believe it. It's like waking up from a nightmare. Nina will be so relieved. I don't know whether to call her now or wait until you confirm it tomorrow," he said, shaking his head.

"Why not wait until it's confirmed, Tony. You don't want Nina going through the agony twice if something goes haywire. I wanted to let you know right away because I need to warn you." 

"What about?"

"The media are going to be all over this story as soon as it breaks ... maybe as early as tomorrow afternoon. The F.B.I. know you're alive and they'll be over here tomorrow morning for sure. My guy says they want to make sure you are who you say you are and that you are the guy that blew the whistle. My advice is to have your assistant look after things tomorrow. I don't know whether they'll show up here or not, but be prepared. Right now, you are a very valuable piece of property to them."

"What about you?" Tony asked.

"I'm going to lay low for a day or two. My retirement is almost here and they can't do much to me. They'll hassle me for keeping you hidden, but once the media gets the story about what's been going on, they won't risk the bad publicity of making me a goat."

"I'll make sure of that," Tony said with authority. "I'm going to make sure that everyone knows how much work you put in on your own time to get to the bottom of what happened to me."

Martin smiled. "No need, but ... tell them whatever you want. Just make sure to tell them the truth. If you don't remember, then tell them that."

Tony nodded, sipping his ale. "Damn, Martin. This is great. Nina is going to be delirious." 

-0-



Amnesia Ch. 06



"Why don't you play with yourself?" I asked with a chuckle.

He pulled on his hands that I had tied to the bed. I lifted my foot up, and hung it over his face. He lifted his head up to try and kiss my foot. I just moved it out of his reach. I stretched my toes open and I could see his red face between my toes, and the black nylon of my tights.

"You took a long time in the loo didn't you Harry? In fact you left me there on purpose with Thomas, you watched didn't you? I could see your reflection in the mirror. You waited by the partition, you watched him put his hand up my skirt."

I pressed my foot onto his face. He gulped and kissed my foot.

"So, why all the big fuss about the old Christine and what she did? You like it, you liked what was happening," I purred, as I spread my toes once again and put them on his top lip.

"It turns me on, I'm sorry. I've tried to stop these feelings. I, I thought with your amnesia, it would give me the chance, to, to hide it from you, and shake these feelings off," he said with a stammer.

"I went too far; well the old Christine did. Didn't she?"

He nodded and sniffed my foot.

"I mean, fancy leaving your wife alone with all those hunky men. I bet there never was a rugby match was there?" I asked with a sexy pout.

I pulled his bottom lip down with my toes and pushed the tips in his mouth. His hot wet tongue licked across my painted toes, soaking the nylon. I smiled at him like he was a kid doing something without having to be asked.

"Did I get out of control Harry? Did you tell me I could have sex with other men? Didn't you once think that I'd find someone better?"

"It doesn't matter, you can divorce me, and you won't get a penny."

I took my foot away from his face, and I slowly rubbed it down his chest. 

"I don't want a divorce Harry, let's just renew the arrangement. I'm going to fuck whoever I want, and that starts with Thomas. You just have to keep me wealthy, and then you get this too."

I started rubbing my foot up and down his cock.

"Right, on Thursday Thomas is going to take me out, on a sort of date, we are just going into town to buy you a special treat for being so understanding. You do want that don't you Harry?"

I could see him thinking about it. 

"What treat, what are you going to buy?"

"I'll tell you in a minute dear hubby. So I teased you did I? I wouldn't let you fuck me. I mean, lets face it, what the fuck is this going to do to satisfy me!" I said with a giggle, as I tapped my foot over his cock.

I brought my foot back to his nose covering his nostrils and spread my toes. I pressed down lightly as his sniffed.

"I'm going to a sex shop to buy a strap on. You are going to fuck me with it. You never now, I might even fuck your fat fucking ass with it too!"

"Oh god!" he gasped.

I took my hand out of my panties and bent forward. I fed him my wet fingers as I slid my foot down his chest.

"Yes oh god, wouldn't you like to fuck your wife with a huge strap on? Go on, it'll be fun pretending you have something between your legs that causes gasps, instead of giggles!"

I sat down on his face and gripped his cock between my feet. I started tossing him off between the soles of my feet. He started grunting and groaning.

"Oh you dirty bastard!" I shrieked, as I felt his wet tongue push the nylon in my ass.

I rubbed harder and faster, on his cock, I squeezed both feet together causing him to whimper.

"Oh shut the fuck up and shoot, don't try holding on you know you bloody well can't!" I bitched.

I felt his cream ooze through my toes, and my fingers brought my pussy to a dripping, and shaking orgasm on my husband's face!



Amnesia Ch. 07



The next day I couldn't believe how I had acted. But I couldn't understand Harry even more. I was still fighting with whether or not I was married to Harry, but everything told me that I was. My head was mixed up; I kept asking myself, if he wasn't my husband why was he doing this to me? I had to go along with him being my husband until I found out otherwise. Still things had changed now; he could barely look at me now his big secret was out. No wonder the old Christine was such a bitch. So he liked me fucking around, and now with this knowledge I had gained control, well a little anyway. Even so I was scared that he had something else up his sleeve, something he might spring on me to turn my world upside down, and if so, what would it be? The next day when Harry came in from work, he went straight on his computer. 

He just called through the door that he was home. I made him a drink and went and took my pill. All the time I kept asking myself why was I still here? It was the like the horror film we watched a few nights ago. This woman was wandering round in a big old house. Two of her friends had already died horrible deaths. So why was she still there? I suppose if she had been sensible she would have ran, but that would be film over with no real ending. I felt like that woman, knowing I should get out, but I just had to find things out. Then again maybe Harry was my real husband. I took my 8 o'clock pill and made Harry's tea. It was then I saw his briefcase in the hall. I opened it and found a burger wrapper, a newspaper, a chocolate wrapper, and a note book. I thumbed through it. My heart hit the floor. It was filled with times and dates and comments about me! I jumped as Harry's hand gripped my shoulder. 

"I suppose you are wondering about that? Read it if you want," he whispered.

I could feel myself trembling under his light touch. He moved his hand and walked into the lounge. I flicked through the day to day account of my actions, behaviour, and progress. It started the day I had come home.

"What is this Harry?" I asked a few minutes later.

I wanted to shout and scream but I kept cool. Besides why would any husband keep a diary of his wife? That was what scared me the most. 

"The doctor said it may be useful," he said finally.

"Useful, Useful for what exactly, Harry?" I asked.

"Because twice a week I phone him, I tell him how you've been, and what you do. They are just general observations really. I can't remember everything Christine."

"So you are spying on me?"

"It's just standard practice for someone in your position, really." 

Maybe it made sense, but it was so clinical. It was like he was talking about a lab rat the way it was worded. But the thing with my boobs on the wedding photo still haunted me. Even so I kept quiet about it. I handed him back the book. He sat staring at his tea, 3 small boiled spuds, and two slices of chicken breast, carrots, and peas.

"What's the matter, full up?" I snapped, looking down at him with the burger wrapper in my hand.

It seemed to amuse me teasing him. I don't know why but for some reason I felt a little turned on too. I stood in the kitchen smoking a cigarette watching him wash up. He had the towel tucked into his trousers to stop spills on them.

"Maybe you should wear an apron," I said with a chuckle. 

He didn't respond he just carried on doing the dishes.

"Are you going to wipe up then?"

I usually did, but tonight something stopped me. I walked slowly over to him, hearing my heels click on the floor. 

"No you are," I whispered in his ear, "and then you can get the washing in."

I stood in the doorway looking out, as he folded the washing and put it in the basket. 

"You've done that before haven't you Harry?" I said with a grin, "was I that much of a bitch that you had to do all the housework?"

I could see a small lump in his trousers. Fucking hell I must have really been a cow!

"Put everything in the airing cupboard, and then I want a cup of coffee. Oh and Harry, take that towel off, you're not a faggot are you?" I asked with a little pout.

I watched him put my coffee down and he looked at my breasts. 

"Do you want a feel Harry?"

I smirked at his erection. 

"Drop your trousers first, after all I've got my huge tits out for you," I purred, as I rubbed my foot over his cock.

He went to sit next to me but I stopped him.

"Not yet, take my stockings off first, but don't you dare touch my pussy."

His shaking fingers slowly pulled my white stocking down my leg. I held out my hand and he gave me the stocking. 

"No, not the other one, just this one," I purred, as I pulled it through my fingers.

I pushed my foot on his small erection. He gasped a little as I stretched my nylon covered toes over the tip of his cock. He just knelt there as I idly flicked his hard dick. 

"Do you really like this; does it really do things for you?" I whispered.

He nodded after a few moments hesitation. I pushed my foot under his balls and lifted them. I just held them up as he panted slightly. I put my bare foot to his lips and he slowly kissed it. Sex had taken over my mind again. It was like that was all I knew, or like I was programmed to want sex of any description. My next request had him looking in disbelief.

"Will you spank me?" 

I watched him swallow, but he didn't answer me.

"Will you spank me for being a naughty wife? You know what I've done in the past Harry, would you like to punish me for it?"

By now my bare toes were wedged in his mouth. I pulled them out and stood up. I handed him the stocking and turned around. I put both wrists together behind me. I looked over my shoulder and grinned at him. Tentatively he started to bind my wrists together. 

"I wonder if Thomas would like to tie me up and keep me helpless."

I felt him snatch the nylon tight into a knot. My words seemed to annoy him enough to snap him into action.

"Oh, careful darling, was that a little passion escaping?" I asked with a chuckle.

I jumped as he wrenched my skirt to my ankles. I suppose I had asked for it anyway, but I just couldn't stop goading him. It was like I wanted to push Harry to the limit. What that limit was I didn't know. I turned facing him, he seemed unsure of how to carry on. It amused me a little, enough to give him a mocking smirk. He grabbed me and forced his tongue in my mouth. The speed shocked me at first but I soon regained my composure.

"Look at my nice big tits Harry, look how hard my nipples are."

He tugged on them gently at first. Gradually he became more confident and squeezed harder. My legs quaked slightly as my hard nipples started something deep inside of me. 

"What are you going to do to me?" I panted. 

He smirked and grabbed my arm. He marched me out to the back door and opened it. The blast of cold air hit my naked body. I pushed back against him trying to get back in the house. I started to protest but my cries were muffled as Harry slipped my panties into my mouth! He pushed me forward out into the night until my legs hit the garden table. With Harry pushing me I was bent over the table. His hand landed on my bare ass, not hard but enough to make me yelp. My cries were muffled by my panties as Harry slapped my backside. I could feel it jump and quiver with every stinging slap. My pussy felt like it was running enough to water the whole garden! Was this something I had enjoyed in the past? Although he wasn't putting his full force into it, it was quite scary; enough to hope that he could control his passion. I was panting and grunting into my little panties, but not from the pain. I stuck my ass out higher wanting more. But for some reason he just stopped. I squealed shaking my ass hoping he would carry on. But he pulled me up into a standing position. He took me back into the house and stood me in the corner of the kitchen. He pressed me back against the wall and started kissing my nipples. I shook my head not wanting this. 

"What's up bitch, not getting your own way?" he snarled.

I tried to wriggle away from him but he held me firm. Finally I managed to force my panties out of my mouth. I panted and grunted for a few seconds.

"Please Harry, just spank me, I, I was so close," I stammered lustfully.

I saw a grin spread across his face. He sliced off the stocking that held my wrists together, and then he opened the food cupboard and pushed me in. 

"Sit down, now!" he snapped, when I didn't respond straightaway.

I sat down on the tiled floor. I gasped and shrieked as I felt a thick substance trickle over my shoulders. It trailed down my breasts and over my nipples.

"Jesus Harry what are you doing?" I screamed.

"Just sweetening you up dear wife," he hissed, with a chuckle.

I felt light flakes fall next, corn flakes, they stuck in what I now knew was treacle! The treackle had now found its way between my legs. I started to finger my pussy.

"Hey, what do you reckon?"

I looked up at Harry and gasped. I just closed my eyes in time as he squirted chocolate sauce over my tits. My fingers must have been a blur by now. The mess was pooling around my pussy and where I sat. I saw the empty tube land between my shaking legs. When I looked up Harry held a can of squirty cream above my head.

"God no, please don't, Harry!" I shrieked.

Harry just smirked as he pulled the trigger and white cream shot into my hair. I closed my eyes, which just seemed to heighten the feeling of the sticky mess crawling over my body. My hair was becoming heavy with the cream that was now cooling my scalp. I think Harry was piling it up on top of my head. I had to close my mouth but not before Harry had got some in. I could hear the cream ooze from the nozzle. He seemed to swirl it round covering my whole face! I shuddered and quaked, as my fingers picked up stray cornflakes that caused me to jump as they rubbed on my pussy. My hand was full of the mess that Harry had poured over me. I couldn't grab my nipple with my other hand as it had become slick with treacle. Even so I climaxed harder as he emptied the cream over each of my jiggling tits!

"Open your mouth, go on," he grunted.

I peered up at him through the cream, as he jerked himself off into my mouth and over my face. 

I spent an hour in the shower that night cleaning everything off. Harry was snoring away, as I tried to work out just why I found everything such a turn on. I saw the sexual side of everything just lately. Was this how I was before? Even at the time with him dribbling food over me I loved it. I didn't think oh my god what a pervert. This was just too hard for me to work out. Why did I crave sex all the time? I still hadn't lost sight of getting my memory back, but the way things were going I wondered what I was going to discover!

"Harry, about last night, I mean, did we, did I, um, those things we did," I stammered.

"Look lets just forget about it. Anyway havent you got something to do today?"

I gulped and looked down hugging myself. I knew what he meant but I didn't want to come out with it. Besides I needed to get to the police station. With what happened last night I felt I was falling into place as Harry's wife, but what if I wasn't? But why would he pretend to be my husband if he wasn't? As Harry went to the door the phone rang. 

"Here, it's your mum," he said, with a grin.

I just stared at the phone as Harry pecked my cheek. I sat and listened as she talked. She told me she was taking a holiday and she would be away for a few weeks. She sounded different on the phone, sort of caring. She asked how I was, and if I remembered anything. For some reason I just listened and then came out with something she might be able to help with. She was silent for a while, she seemed flustered. But she couldn't give me a reason, as to why I had big boobs on my wedding photo. Before she said much more she told me someone was at the door. It seemed like an excuse to me, just to get off the phone. What really bugged me was she didn't question what I had told her myself! Surely my mum would have wondered about her daughter sprouting breasts for a few wedding pictures, and then having surgery a few years later to enhance them? I sat on the bed looking at the indent from Harry's head. Maybe I was losing my mind or something. That might just be the answer as to why I wouldn't believe things. Maybe instead of going to the police I should go to the hospital. Maybe I was crazy!

I was still in the bedroom looking out over the fields, when the radio went on about the missing Emily. The police seemed to be giving up hope of finding her. The police spokesman seemed to be hinting at fearing the worst. When I noticed a post office van driving past I covered my naked breasts. I watched him go on towards the village. I saw him most mornings; he never stopped to deliver any mail here. In fact we hadn't had a single letter since we had lived here. It was like nobody knew we were here. No bills, no charity begging letters, nothing. 

I lay back down on the bed just wondering where my life was going. My hand started to drift between my legs. I tried to stop touching myself but I just couldn't. This was me, feeling, touching, and playing with myself every chance I got! I didn't even feel strange walking naked downstairs to answer the phone.

"Hello, this is Mrs Trent," I said.

"High sweetheart, don't forget we have a date."

I gulped a little uneasily.

"So have you been working on hubby?"

My throat seemed to dry up. I didn't want Thomas to know my real intentions, but maybe because of my aroused state I played along.

"It'll take time, I told you."

"Yeah, but don't keep me waiting too long sexy."

I moved forward against the corner of the telephone table. My finger was flicking the pages of the telephone book. 

"God, I can't wait to get at you," Thomas moaned.

I pulled the phone book to the edge on the table. My fingers bent the pages slightly. I gasped a little as I let the pages flick across my pussy.

"It sounds as though you are looking forward to it as well?"

I bent the pages back again and I let them all rush over my clit. The light paper and the wind the flicking pages produced had my head in a spin. I kept doing it, over and over.

"So, does hubby like the idea then?" he asked.

"He, he's coming round to it. But I need time," I mumbled, as I closed my eyes feeling the delicate paper tickle my aching clit.

"Good I'm glad, he'll be getting what he wants, and so will we," he whispered.

"Are you, playing with yourself?" I asked with a gulp.

"A little, like you," he answered.

I exchanged the book for my fingers. I couldn't believe how wet I was. I didn't want Thomas hearing anymore.

"I'll see you in two hours," I croaked.

I slammed the phone down, and let out the heavy gasp I had been holding in. My fingers were working hard on my pussy. I let my other hand cup my breast. I pulled and tweaked my nipples. My whole body felt hot, too hot. I raced to the door and flung it wide open. The cold air rushed into the house and all over my naked skin. My finger was back between my legs as I clung to the door frame for support. We lived on a very quite road. Sometimes hours would pass before a vehicle went past. I looked at the puddle on the grass. I had this sudden urge to stand in it. Fuck I wanted to sit in it! I took 3 small steps until I was standing in the cold water. There I was outside finger my pussy and my hard nipples. This was total madness but my heart pounded like never before. The cold water was just a couple of inches deep, but it seemed to send another sensation through my body. I suppose it was like the food last night. I moved to the side a little and felt tiny little scratches from the hedge. I backed into it a little; the prickles from the twiggs seemed to be all over my ass legs and back. My knees started to buckle as my orgasm hit me. I gasped and moaned and pressed back into the hedge further still. I felt a lot more prickling twiggs and it just filled my senses to overload. I crashed the door shut and clung to the telephone table. I was gasping and panting. All over my back, bum, and legs I could feel cold wet moisture from the hedge. Those little scratchy tingles on my back made me shudder. I went upstairs and stood under the shower. I hoped it would wash away what I had just done outside.

½ an hour later I had regained some of my composure. I stared into the mirror, the face looking back at me was mine, but what went on behind that face? I was still finding out things that I didn't like. Surely I should have been too frightened to go outside naked? OK that was bad enough, but to actually play with myself and not even look to see if I might have been seen! Would the old Christine have behaved like that? Would she have done those things? I started to dress; I needed to focus my mind on what I had to do. I had to stop thinking about sex, if I could! 

"Hi sexy, do you want a lift?"

I smiled up at Andy. I shook my head. 

"I'm waiting for someone," I offered.

"Oh, that's a shame. So, do you like my truck?"

I looked it over and shrugged my shoulders.

"I don't know anything about them. It's awfully high up isn't it?"

He laughed.

"Yeah, it is supposed to be. See, this is the only thing that can get over the mud slides we had last year. Why don't you come for a ride, a little off roading?"

I grinned and shook my head. 

"Look Christine, about the other day, I mean if you want to, well do you want to do it again?"

I gulped, god this was embarrassing.

"Andy it was, a one off, I'm married. We should never have done it."

His face dropped a little. While my words told him no, my pussy was telling me yes! I couldn't though. I had to get my head away from sex. 

"So you love him, you love your husband? Come on its obvious why you married him, money, that's it isn't it?"

"Look Andy it's really none of your business," I snapped.

He drove off leaving me there to think about what he said. I wasn't thinking for long when Thomas arrived.

"Well don't you look hot," he said as his eyes rolled over me.

I watched him look around.

"So, has hubby gone to work then? Why don't we go inside for awhile?"

"Look I told you we have to take things slow. I don't just jump into bed with every man I see."

Even I had trouble believing my last statement.

"Soon, I want you soon."

I could see the lust in his eyes. He looked like he could jump me there and then. He moved closer to me.

"Give me a kiss," he mumbled.

I swallowed looking up into his face. I suppose I had to give him something, I didn't want him running off and leaving me with no transport into town. I moved forward feeling my breasts touch his chest. He grinned as I reached up and kissed him. I knew the little peck wasn't enough. His hand grabbed my waist and he pulled me close. His hot mouth was all over me. He didn't even stop when we heard a car approaching. I pulled off the kiss.

"It might be my husband," I panted.

"Good, let's show him what a slut his wife is," he spat.

He forced his tongue in my mouth. I felt his hand grab my ass and he pulled me close to him. I heard the car go by as Thomas kneaded my backside. His tongue was hot and searching and he groaned excitedly. I saw the post office van out of the corner of my eye. The driver was watching us with a grin on his face. Finally I pushed him off.

"God you are one hot bitch," Thomas panted.

"Then we should, should save it," I stammered.

He smiled at me as his hand went up the front of my short skirt. I just stood there letting him touch me between the legs.

"Hell, you're wet sweetheart," he groaned, as he gave my pussy a last squeeze.

My own breaths were deep and short. Why was I turned on by this man? I didn't fancy him; he was on a par with my husband. But why did I get wet just by kissing someone I didn't fancy? Thomas held the door open for me as I climbed in his van. He grabbed my arm holding me back for a second. His other hand went up the back of my skirt taking the hem over my ass.




Amnesia Ch. 07



Thank you, Erik Thread, for your excellent editing and helpful suggestions. I am grateful for your patience and skill. Any errors are, of course, mine.



The celebration was brief. Tony had no sooner gotten off the phone from hearing Martin tell him that the arrest had gone down as planned when two well-dressed men arrived at Amnesia!

"Anthony Marino?" a tall, middle-aged man asked.

"Yes."

"I'm agent Thorson and this is agent Pellegrino ... F.B.I." he said succinctly, both showing their I.D.

"I've been expecting you," Tony said with a grimace.

"Is there someplace we can have some privacy?" Thorson asked.

"Not really ... it's a tavern," Tony shrugged.

Thorson sighed and then, "Would you mind coming downtown with us? We need to talk to you."

Tony nodded. "Fine. I want to get this over with and get on with my life. I'd like to phone my wife and let her know what's happening. As far as she knows, someone is still out there that may want to harm us."

"Of course. Why don't you make that call and we'll wait here. We'll give you a ride to the office and back again," Thorson suggested.

Tony turned to the bar. "Carl, would you get these gentlemen some coffee, please." 

He pulled out his cell phone, thumbing in the pre-set number as he walked back into the kitchen.

"Nina ... it's over," he said when she answered the phone. "They've arrested the man that tried to kill me."

"Oh, thank god, Tony. I was so worried. Now we can be together again. Can I tell the children?" 

"Yes ... you can tell everyone. In fact, I wish you would. I'm heading down to F.B.I. headquarters to make a statement. I don't know how long I'll be, but if you can take care of letting our family and friends know I'm back among the living, I'd be grateful."

"Of course. I can't wait. The children will be so excited. I'm excited," she gasped.

They talked for several minutes before Tony interrupted, "Babe, I've got to go. The F.B.I. guys are here and I have to go downtown with them. I'll call you as soon as I can."

"Take care, Tony. I'll have lots to do calling everyone. I'm so happy that it's over."

Tony signed off and headed out of the kitchen to the table where the two agents were finishing their coffee. 

"Thanks for being patient, guys. I appreciate it. We can go anytime now."

"Not a problem. Beside, this is the best coffee I've had in a long time. I hated to rush it," Pellegrino grinned.

They left through the front after Tony let Carl know he would be gone for the day and Eric would be in charge of the kitchen. Martin's son, David, would be in after school to give Eric a hand with the dinner crowd. Earlier, they had prepared a number of heat-and-serve items to keep the lunch crowd under control. 

The interview took place in a pleasant, air conditioned room with comfortable chairs and a large table. The two agents that had picked him up remained in the room until two more joined them.

"Mr. Marino, this is agent Bilecki and agent Van Hoote," Thorson said in introduction. "They are from our forensic accounting office."

Tony stood and shook hands with a very attractive blonde woman and a bookish, shy man. The woman, in her early thirties, had a firm handshake, while the younger man, Van Hoote, offered a limp, damp hand.

"Nice to meet you," Tony greeted them. 

Agent Bilecki took the lead. 

"Nice to meet you too. You've uncovered a major crime and luckily gave the information to someone in authority before you were attacked. That made a big difference in our investigation. Your contact at the S.E.C. came to us when he learned of your disappearance. He told us what you told him and we went from there.

"Your notes were very comprehensive. You've handed us exactly what we need to charge and convict at least the three men you have named in your files. You've been very thorough and it's made our work so much easier. We are confident we will get convictions for fraud and a number of other financial statute violations."

Tony acknowledged the compliment with a nod and a smile. "When will you be charging them?" he asked.

"I think the indictments will be handed down in a week or so," Bilecki offered.

Tony nodded. 

"Can you tell us what led you to suspect these men?" she asked. Her partner was furiously scribbling notes despite the fact that there was a recorder on the table.

Tony admitted he hadn't recovered all of his memory, but indicated he had noticed a number of odd transactions that raised his interest. When, on a hunch, he followed the trail of one transaction, he saw a number of irregularities and that opened what he described as "a whole can of worms."

He spent over two hours with the forensic pair, going over anything else that he might remember. Their concern apparently centered around whether they had identified all of the improper transactions, or were there more. Tony told them he didn't know.

When they finished, the two special agents rose, and once again Bilecki thanked him for his efforts and assistance before leaving the room.

Tony sank back in the comfortable chair and let out a sigh.

"I know what you mean," laughed Pellegrino. "That stuff can wear you out." 

"I've got some lunch coming, Mr. Marino," Thorson said amiably. "We'll take a break and then we can get back at it. In this case, I think we might have some information for you as well." 

The chatted quietly over the lunch after it arrived. Someone had gone to the trouble of ordering some very nice smoked meat sandwiches on rye with dill pickles, coleslaw, and, ironically, Pellegrino water. 

Thorson was interested in his amnesia and the affect it had on him. Tony noted that his case was unusual in that it had been over a year before he regained any significant part of his memory. Still, there were frustrating gaps, but he had adapted and accepted that perhaps he would never completely recover everything.

"Do you remember anything at all about the day you disappeared?" the agent asked.

"No ... nothing," Tony said, shaking his head.

"Well, we do have some information that you don't have. Apparently, you brought in some work clothes and changed in your office. You were going down to the basement file storage to look for something, according to your secretary."

"Huh! Joanna remembers that, eh. I guess those were the clothes I was found in."

"Yeah ... she remembers what you were wearing and it matches what the N.Y.P.D. noted when you were found. When she told us that, she let us into your office and we found your suit and shirt hung up in the closet. Your wallet and security pass were in it, so no one had disturbed it. We have it here, and we can return it now. We've gone over it carefully, but can't find anything of use to the case."

"I guess the credit cards are useless. I'm sure my wife would have cancelled them by now," Tony mused.

"Yeah, when we checked them, there hadn't been any activity on any of them from the day you vanished. We figured something had happened to you based on how much use you made of those cards. When you didn't reappear over the next months, we were pretty sure you were dead. Someone had twigged to your uncovering the fraud and tried to take you out. Lucky for you, they were amateurs," Pellegrino jumped in.

"Listen guys, there's a cop ... a detective ... that helped me out a lot. He was the one who let you guys know I was still alive. He kept me safe and put a lot of his own time in on trying to find out who I was."

"What's his name?" Thorson asked.

"Are you sure he won't get in trouble?" Tony asked warily.

"No ... not from us. If he catches any flack it'll be from his own people. But I do have a question. How long has he known who you are?"

"His name is Martin Polikoff. I told him right away, as soon as my memory came back. So he's known for ... a few days," Tony hesitated, shrinking the time. In fact, Martin had known for weeks.

"Well, it's nice to know that not every cop in the city hates us," Thorson chuckled. "Our main objective is to get a conviction on the three or four people who pulled off this scam. We will try to get a federal charge of conspiracy to commit murder on the guy we picked up today. That business took place across state lines and that should give us jurisdiction. The main thing is we want to make sure this guy is in jail to stay."

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur as the two agents went over the details of Tony's story a step at a time. By the time five o'clock rolled around, Tony was bushed and both Thorson and Pellegrino look pretty tired as well.

"Well ... that's it for now, Mr. Marino. You will be notified when we want to have you come in to go over the testimony you'll give at the trial. It's a kind of rehearsal just to make sure you know what questions we'll ask and what to expect from the defense attorneys. All three of these guys have their own lawyers, so you may be cross-examined three times. Right now it looks like that's going to be some time yet. These cases take forever to get before a judge and jury."

"What about Stanton Mellows? I'm damn sure he's involved somehow," Tony said.

"We think so too, but so far none of the others have said anything about him and forensics haven't found a paper trail. However, they are working on it. That funny little guy, Van Hoote, is apparently some kind of genius at sniffing out these deals. If anyone can find something, they say it'll be him. In the meantime, if you happen to remember anything more that relates to this case, please contact us."

The three rose and waited as Tony walked into the hallway of the office. "Thanks for your cooperation and good luck, Mr. Marino," Thorson said. "We'll be talking to you sometime in the future. Keep us informed if you leave the state for any reason. We'll need to be able to contact you if there are further questions."

"I have a home in Connecticut and a summer home on Nantucket. Do I need to let you know each time I go there?"

"No ... we have those phone numbers. Just keep us informed if you plan anything other than your normal routine."

With that, the two shook hands and Tony walked with Pellegrino to the elevators. The younger agent would drive him back to the tavern where Tony would call Nina to let her know what his day had been like. He would be equally interested in hearing from her when she spread the good news that he was alive and well and living in New York City.

"Oh, Tony, I'm exhausted. I've been on the phone all day, talking to family, friends, answering questions about what happened. The newspapers haven't called, so that's something. People I've never met have called to wish us well. Word travels fast when my relatives get a hold of it," she laughed.

"You mean Mama Novak likes to talk," he chortled. "Why, I'd never have believed it."

"All right, all right. That's enough," she chided. "Mama wants to talk to you as soon as you can call her. She was in tears the whole time I talked to her she was so happy. Dad's pretty happy and relieved too. The kids are jumping up and down and I think I'd better give them some Valium in their supper to bring them back down to earth. I know they want to talk to you. Can you do that now?"

"Of course!" He waited as he heard the commotion in the background. He talked to Nadia first and then Jared. He told them they would see each other on the weekend when their mother brought them to New York. After their excited conversations, they handed the phone back to their mother.

"Bring them to the city this weekend, Nina. I want to see them. I'll arrange to take Saturday off and we can spend it together, getting to know each other again. Book two rooms at the hotel. We'll visit your folks on Sunday. It's going to be a great weekend." 

He phoned Mama Novak after he hung up with Nina and she was once again in tears of joy that her much-loved son was alive and well. With the children coming to the city that weekend, she quickly arranged a Sunday dinner for the whole family. It would be Tony's chance to re-connect with everyone together and allow him to explain what had happened in the past year as well as their plans for the future.

His last act before heading for Muriel's apartment was to tell Carl what was going on and confusing him by letting him know his real name was Tony Marino. Carl just shook his head and apologized in advance for all the times he would be calling him John.

-0-

Friday night fights! That's what Tony called it, smiling, but grumbling aloud that it had to stop. The problem was simple. Trying to mesh a sixteen-year-old daughter with a thirteen-year-old son in the same hotel room was a non-starter. Nina didn't think it was funny. The noise of their arguments was seeping through the otherwise quiet of the room. The culprit was the adjoining doors between the two rooms.

Nina had gone in shortly after ten to "read the riot act," but the affect was only worth a few minutes of calm before the war broke out again. It was Tony's turn. Nina expressed her hope that the long-absent father would be able to bring some peace and order with the two teens. After calmly explaining that they had a big weekend ahead of them and patiently listening to each of their complaints about the other, he crossed his fingers in hope.

As they lay in bed, Tony was still smiling while Nina was quietly steaming.

"Damn those kids anyway," she said in a loud whisper. "How are we going to get through this weekend with them constantly at each other's throat?"

Tony rolled on his side, his hand cupping her exposed breast. "I have a suggestion. Why don't we send Jared off to your parent's tomorrow morning. I'm sure they'd be delighted to have him there and will find plenty to keep him occupied. Nadia can stay with us. I bet she would jump at the chance to do some shopping with you."

Nina rolled on her side, facing her husband. "You are one smart cowboy. There will be some peace and quiet around her tomorrow night and you and I can quietly celebrate."

"Does that mean I have to wait to tomorrow night to celebrate?" he frowned.

"No ... never again, my love. I'm never going to waste another moment that I'm with you. I learned a very hard lesson when you were gone. Very hard." 

"What did you learn," he asked. 

"I learned I can't live without you. I was dying without you. A day at a time ... a piece at a time. Dying."

Tony kissed her softly as she gazed mournfully at him.

"What did you think when I didn't come home that night? That first night."

"Oh, Tony, I don't want to go there. It's over now and I'm so relieved. I don't really want to dwell in the past." 

They lay silently, Tony's hands caressing Nina softly, almost absently in the dim light. The noise from the adjoining room had finally ceased.

After a long while, "I thought you had left me," Nina whispered, almost inaudibly.

"I thought you had given up on us and left. I've never felt pain like that. I was wandering around without any sense of purpose or hope. I thought my life was over."

Tony pulled her closer to him, holding her tightly. "I'm sorry, Nina. I know I made you feel that way. I don't know how I can apologize enough for the misery I caused you. There isn't any excuse I can give you. I can only ask for your forgiveness."

"It's over now Tony. We don't have to worry about it anymore. We can start again and make our life better. We've promised ourselves that we'd do that, haven't we?"

"Yes. I'm never going back to where I was ... in my head. Whatever happened to me was the catalyst that brought the realization that I couldn't live that way. You'll never have to worry about that or me again. I promise," he said, kissing her passionately.

They made love again. Slow, careful, sensuous love. They murmured endearments to each other and touched and kissed and nibbled their way to a blissful union. Nina would have tears now and then at the most unexpected moments, but they were tears of happiness and relief. 

Sunday was a raucous, happy celebration in the Novak household. Magda had invited Martin, but he declined, saying it was strictly a family gathering. Mama Novak was virtually dancing around the kitchen and living room as she had her family together. It wasn't enough that Tony had been found alive and well. There was also the reconciliation of Nina and Magda. She had every reason to be joyful and she and Papa wanted everyone in the family to know it. 

When a very tired Nina, Nadia and Jared climbed on the train early Monday morning, they had already said their goodbyes to Tony and the grandparents. The children would miss a day of school, but Nina would accompany them the next day to explain to the teachers just what had been going on in the past weeks. 

On Sunday afternoon, the family had discussed just how they were going to approach the matter of moving back to New York. Nina would leave the children in the care of Mrs. Martinez for Tuesday and Wednesday night. She would return to the city to look for a permanent home for the four of them, returning on Thursday afternoon. Back to the city on Friday evening when the grandparents would look after Nadia and Jared while Nina and Magda continued the search for a home.

This became their routine for the next three weeks while Nina searched in vain for a suitable home. The prices in the city were even more outrageous than when they lived here years ago and she was beginning to despair that they would find something they would be happy with.

"Why don't we sell Nantucket?" Tony said one evening. "We hardly ever go there. I'm sure we can get a very good price for it. You know we've had offers before without even listing it." Nina didn't argue with his logic. It had been over two years since anyone had been in the island summer home. 

"I'll call the agent we used before on Monday," she said. "Selling our home on the island will be a step toward leaving the past behind us." 

It was Tony's turn to provide Nina with a surprise. They were sitting in the tavern at a table they now thought of as their own. It was a small, quiet, mid-week crowd and they could talk in privacy.

"I think it's time I tell you about my plan for the future, Nina," he began.

"Go on." She was paying close attention.

"I want to open my own restaurant. About this size, not much more. It will be a bistro, rather than a tavern. No bar, just food service with a liquor license." 

Nina nodded without comment.

"I've been thinking about a period décor. You know, big booths with tuck-and-roll upholstery. A few tables. Period decorations. A Wurlitzer. Maybe even a small dance floor. Kind of a fifties-sixties theme." 

"Do you think that will work? Won't people be expecting a burger place or some trendy menu?" Nina questioned.

"Not if I do it right. In the right neighborhood, it would be a place to go for good food, a good time and you wouldn't have to get a second mortgage to enjoy a nice evening. The food will mostly be traditional North American fare, but with a few specials thrown in from time to time. If I'm going to experiment, it'll be at Amnesia! first. That crowd is a little more accustomed to my unusual dishes."

"How are you going to be in two places at once?" Nina asked, now bearing a look of concern.

"I won't. I have an idea that I think Mr. Leung will go for if my hunch is right. Muriel or Eric could replace me at Amnesia! while I get the new place up and running. If we're doing well after the first six months, I'll swap him 20% of the new restaurant for 20% of Amnesia! That way we both have a stake in both operations. I want them both to be successful, so I can't abandon one in favor of the other."

"Do you know where the new restaurant will be?" Nina asked, still cautious.

"No ... not yet. I'll be looking for a likely spot that's not too far from our neighborhood. I'm not interested in the Broadway dinner crowd. I want the local people and their friends. I'm not in this to get rich and famous. This is what I want to do and that other stuff is of no value to me. We don't need the paparazzi and the other hangers-on to make it work."




Amnesia Ch. 07



"I don't know, Tony. This sounds like a seven-day-a-week proposition to me. You're falling right back into that work trap again," she said mournfully.

"Nope. Rest assured, I won't let that happen. I'm going to be a cook and a manager and a husband, I promise you. I will hire the people we need to make it happen. Eric is almost ready to run his own kitchen. Muriel has been running the Bamboo Terrace for three years now. I can get graduates from the culinary school to apprentice and then I'll spend my time training people and developing menus. 

"I made myself a promise that I wasn't going to neglect you ever again. I intend to keep that promise. You've suffered enough thanks to me. I won't let it happen again." 

"Tony, this still sounds very ambitious and challenging. I'm worried," Nina admitted. 

"I won't do this if you don't agree, Nina. I won't."

"I know. I won't ever stop you from doing something that you really want to do. I just want you to step back and remind yourself every day of what we went through before. We can't go back there, Tony." She looked at him steadily ... her face neutral and yet determined.

He nodded, stood, moved to her and kissed her gently. "I don't want to go back their either, babe. It was a bad place and I will do everything I can to avoid it. I promise." 

-0-

Nina told her real estate agent, Aurelia, that she was nervous talking to Tony about the townhouse they looked at that day. After three weeks of frustration, she had finally found a home that had the "Wow Factor." 

"I knew as soon as I saw it that it was perfect." There was, of course, the problem of price. One and-a-half million dollars. 

Later that evening, "Tony ... on Sunday ... can you come with me. I want to show you a townhouse. I'd like your opinion on it," she said tentatively.

Tony looked at his wife and smiled. "So ... you've found something you like, huh."

She looked at her husband sheepishly. "Yes."

"OK. When do you want to go?" 

"Uhmmm ... eleven o'clock?" she said, still sounding unsure.

"Fine."

Nina sat, gazing at her husband. "That was too easy. You're up to something." 

"No, darling, you're up to something. You've found what you want but you're afraid it's too expensive and you don't know how to get me to agree to but it. Close enough?"

Nina shook her head. "You know me too well."

Nina had been working with Aurelia Chinetti, an agent recommended to her by Magda. Aurelia was a good listener and had only taken Nina to homes where she believed there was a chance that she would like them. They had set an initial budget of one million, but now, that proved to be unrealistically low for the size, features and quality that Nina wanted. 

Aurelia acknowledged this and took Nina to see the townhouse on the chance that it would catch her eye. It did just that, and by the time the two women had spent an hour in the home, Nina told her she wanted this property. It would only be a matter of whether she could talk her husband into it. 

When Tony and Nina met Aurelia at the address of the townhouse, he had already sized up the neighborhood. While it was middle class at one time, today it was an upscale neighborhood. The older homes that had yet to be renewed were being squeezed by the newly renovated places such as the one they were about to see. Aurelia talked about the kind of pressures to sell that would be on some of the long-time residents. On the other hand, it was a nice area to live.

When they walked inside, Tony saw what attracted Nina to the townhouse. It was spacious, modern without being cold, beautifully decorated and complete with all the modern appliances. When they completed the tour, they met in the kitchen and Tony folded his arms across his chest.

"How much?"

Aurelia cleared her throat as Nina visibly cringed. "One point five," she said holding her gaze steady on Tony.

"Hummph!" Tony said, giving nothing away. He turned to Nina.

"Is this what you want?" 

"Yes ... yes. I know it's horribly expensive ... but ... it's beautiful. It is what I think we both could be happy with," she said, appearing to gain confidence when her husband had not erupted at the price.

"How long has it been on the market, Aurelia?" Tony asked, turning to her.

The agent looked at her listing sheet. "Almost four months." 

Tony nodded. "Do you know if there have been any offers?"

"None listed, but I'll check and see." 

Tony was quiet, obviously thinking.

"Why don't we make an offer? One point three-five. No subjects other than the usual inspection and title search."

Aurelia looked surprised, but pleased. "I can do that. But they will certainly want to counter."

"I'm sure you're right. However, once we know if there have been no other serious offers, we may want to play a waiting game. How long have they owned the house?" Tony asked.

"Uhmmm ... seven years," she said, looking again at the form.

"What do you suppose this place would have sold for seven years ago?" 

"Just over seven hundred ... maybe," she replied.

"Not a bad profit then, don't you think?" Tony smiled at the agent.

They wrote up the formal sales offer in the kitchen that morning and Aurelia said she would call the listing agent that afternoon. She was interested in what the reaction would be. It wasn't an outrageous discount they were asking for, but in this aggressive market, she was doubtful.

Tony and Nina left the townhouse and returned to their hotel and lunch.

"Do you think it's too expensive, Tony?" Nina asked hesitantly. 

Tony smiled. "Of course it's too expensive. However, everything is too expensive in this city. We just have to adapt to it."

"Can we afford it?"

"Yes. Nantucket prices are even crazier and by the time we sell that home, we should clear over a million. Add the Westport home and we have more than enough for both the house and the new restaurant," he said confidently. 

He heard a sigh of relief from Nina as she finally relaxed in her chair, taking a sip of her wine. "I was almost afraid to show you that home," she admitted.

"I know. I could tell," he smiled. "But ... it's the one you want, isn't it?"

She nodded. 

"Good. Then we'll both be happy. Just to put your mind at rest ... I liked it too. It's a lovely home and I'm sure we'll all be very happy in it."

On Monday evening, Nina got a call from Aurelia. "They've accepted the offer. I can't believe it. I was expecting a counter offer. Your husband is a very astute businessman," she chirped.

"Yes he is, Aurelia. He certainly is. I can't wait to tell him. He'll be happy to hear the news.

-0-



Amnesia Ch. 07



"Are those the stockings I gave you?" he asked, as his hand pinched my backside.

"Of course," I replied tugging my skirt back down.

"I want to fuck you now," he hissed, as he grabbed my breast.

"I told you no, not until later, I still have to convince my husband. Besides I want you to go shopping for me."

"Well if you want me to go shopping for you, you could at least earn it."

I sat next to him and watched him pull his cock out. He was already hard. He grabbed my hand and yanked me nearer to him. 

"Toss me off," he mumbled.

Maybe it was just better to get this over with. His cock felt hot as I started to jerk him. He moved his head back and closed his eyes. 

"Do you like that Thomas? Do you like a randy married woman jerking you off?"

He nodded and mumbled a yes, still with his eyes closed. I worked my hand faster.

"I bet you are better than he is in bed. I bet you could really do things to me that my own husband can't. Just think of him watching you master his hot wife. He'd like that, seeing a real man at work."

My hand was going faster and faster. Thomas was squirming a little too.

"I want to see you spunk for me Thomas. This will be the last time we waste a single drop. I expect you to shoot it in my married pussy, down my throat, even up my tight little ass!" I hissed.

He started bucking into my hand; he was right on the verge of shooting.

"Come on Thomas, I'm your sweetheart, your hot piece of married ass. Fuck, I can't wait for you to fuck me between my huge tits!"

I felt hot spunk fire into my fingers. Thomas panted and jerked with his eyes screwed shut.

"Oh that's so good. Married whores like me deserve this, don't we?" I spat close to his ear.

He growled, groaned, twisted, and bucked. When he finally opened his eyes he looked at me shocked. My other hand was hidden up my skirt, frantically finishing myself off!



Amnesia Ch. 08



We stopped in the multi story car park. Thomas started laughing when I told him what I wanted him to buy. After he had thought about it his face dropped.

"No way am I going to buy a strap on cock, people in the shop will think I'm a faggot," he grizzled.

I slipped my hand up the inside of his thigh. I found his cock, and then I moved forward and pushed my tongue in his mouth.

"You know, when you fuck me in front of my husband, you can then sit back and watch me fuck his ass."

I kissed him passionately and squeezed his cock harder, until he started moaning and groping my nylon clad thigh. 

"Now I'll meet you in the pub in an hour, OK?"

He nodded. I walked into the police station and went straight past the policeman on the desk.

"God not you again," he called chasing after me.

"It's OK I'll take care of Mrs Trent. So what is it this time?"

I sat down and explained everything about the photos, and my boob job that happened before we were married.

"Well OK, it is a little odd, but if he's not hurting you and treating you well what is the problem?"

I was just about ready to snap at this point, and I'm sure she could tell. 

"OK, I'll get the missing persons file for the last 6 months, how does that sound?"

"Look I have amnesia, I'm not missing!"

"Look lady, if you have been kidnapped, although frankly I doubt it, but if you have that means someone somewhere will have reported you missing," she snapped, as she stood to her feet.

5 minutes later she returned with a big folder. 

"Is that it?" I queried.

"Yep, pictures of every reported missing person in the UK over the last 6 months. Now you sit here and look through the folders."

"Folders, you have only brought one?"

She sniggered.

"Evans, bring the trolley in," she called.

I watched the trolley rumble in with another 10 or so folders on it.

"And take her finger prints too," she snapped.

"What are you arresting me for?" I asked with a gulp. 

"Oh believe me I'd like too," she hissed, "if you have a criminal record we'll have your finger prints. Now Evans, and Marsh will go through the files too, I don't want you in my station for any longer than is necessary."

The search through the files revealed nothing. I suppose now I had to believe my husband, even so, I wasn't happy with it. I caught up with Thomas nearly two hours later. I had to fight off his groping hands all the way home in the van.

"Look I don't want you going with Thomas he's not part of this."

"What does, part of this mean?" I asked my husband.

"I don't want him to be a part of it I mean."

I walked up to Harry starring him right in the eye.

"Oh, so you want to pick my lovers do you?" I spat.

"Christine I have thought about this all day. I just don't want you to do it with him." 

"Relax you are safe. I don't fancy him anyway. I'd never let him fuck me, I sort of hinted at it in the van when he dropped me off."

"What did he say?"

"Well he was pissed off, but I think he'll get over it. Harry, why have I got such big tits in our wedding photo?"

I watched him swallow. His eyes shot to the photo and then back at me.

"Well, a, the photographer was a friend of Joey's. He enlarged your boobs in Joey's photos as a joke; only, when you saw the photos at Joey's house 6 months ago, you liked the look of them." 

I shook my head with a grin of disbelief.

"Oh god and I badgered you into paying for a bloody boob job?" 

He nodded.

Saturday afternoon we walked into the village. The festival was already under way, all the usual things, rides for the kids and stalls, the usual things you would expect to see in a small village. I had decided to let things ride for a few days. Amnesia or not I just wanted to let my hair down. I suppose I was getting used to the idea that Harry was my husband. Every time I thought I found something that said I wasn't, he seemed to have an answer. Going to the police had again come up with nothing, so perhaps I now had to live with it. Maybe it was time for me to settle down and see if I had a future with Harry. We had a few drinks in the pub and I spotted the window cleaner. OK it turned me on seeing him again and he smiled at me. Of course I didn't return his smile, well not straight away. 

"So what stall do I have to look after?" I asked Harry.

"You don't," he slurred.

"Oh, come on big man, you can sleep it off up stairs."

I watched the barman and two others lift Harry to his feet. The landlord looked down at me.

"Don't worry Mrs Trent, a few hours sleep and he'll been fine. I did tell him that was a special strong cider. Anyway they are ready for you now," the landlord said, as he nodded over to a small stage that had been set up.

I tried to protest but I was dragged up on the stage by Andy and a few others. I went behind a curtain, and before I knew what was happening, my head and wrists were put into some old fashioned wooden stocks! 

"Don't worry it is all part of the festival, you'll only be here for ½ an hour."

I smiled a little nervously at Andy.

"This is your court case; Nina was a gypsy girl who played men off against each other. They settled it in this very pub 150 years ago. Well apart from the hanging, that was done out under the tree."

"Oh great," I said sarcastically.

"Look, you are supposed to wear this."

I never got the words out; as soon as I opened my mouth a ball was inserted and strapped round the back of my head. OK this was just a stupid festival I told myself. But there I was up on the stage in a pub full of rowdy men. When they pulled the curtain back, I could see that the stocks I was secured in had a big board with scenery painted on the front. The board at least stopped men gawping at my legs and breasts. When I looked down, I could see the figure of a woman in a long skirt painted below me. OK the ball gag wasn't that comfortable, but I knew it would be over soon. The landlord rambled on about the gypsy girl, who had apparently, promised herself to two of the villagers. The two men had fought in the street over her, and now the court would decide what to do with the girl. I suppose it was vaguely interesting, if you liked that sort of thing, but I was counting away the minutes. I tried to shift and get a little more comfortable, but the stocks were actually locked with old fashioned padlocks. As the landlord twittered on I felt a very light tickle on my calf. Oh fucking hell a bloody spider! I struggled and tried to kick it off with my other leg. For a bloody spider this thing was big! I nearly wet myself as it crawled up the back of my leg, I hate the fucking things! I started shouting on the gag, but I didn't get a response from the drunken men who cheered and whooped at the landlord's speech. I felt it crawl up under my skirt; it made its way slowly over my panties. I just stood there terrified and shaking. Now this had to be one strong spider, because I could now feel the hem of my skirt lifting up! The light touch was now a firm grasp on my backside. Two hands mauled at my ass. I tried screaming out again but it was useless. 

"I've had enough of your teasing bitch, I'm going to fuck you in front of a room full of men, and they won't even know."

My hair was falling over my face as I cursed Thomas as he slid my panties down to my ankles.

"Just enjoy it slut," he hissed behind the board.

I knew he couldn't be seen from the front, because the scenery board went up over the top of his head. I kicked backwards, and with my third or fourth swing I caught his shin. I heard him wince and then swear. I was cursing him through the gag, until I felt a vice like grip on both of my nipples. He twisted and pulled.

"Do that again you cunt and I'll pull these bullets off!" he snarled, giving my sensitive nipples a big pinch and twist.

I felt his hand move between the cheeks of my ass. I could hear his lust filled groans as his other hand forced its way into my stocking top. His foot kicked my left ankle, then my right, and he then moved in between my spread legs. 

"Oh what have we here then? For someone who is putting up a fight you sure are wet!"

I again cursed into the gag, as his fingers tickled my pussy lips, yes I did say tickle. He was chuckling as I squirmed and wriggled. His touch was so light it fucking well tickled!

"Open your legs further, or do I have to pull your nipples again?" he hissed.

I didn't move, not until I felt the pain.

"That's better, sweetheart," he said with a dirty chuckle.

I felt a finger slip into my wet pussy. He was groaning as he searched deep inside of me. I started struggling again, until I felt his other hand squeeze in between the cheeks of my ass! I growled into the gag and wriggled some more. A second finger joined his first in my pussy; he seemed to be stretching me open. Again he was tickling me, only this time his finger wriggled quickly at my asshole!

"Oh I think that's enough teasing don't you? Now just enjoy it sexy, I'm going to fuck you for being such a prick tease."

I jerked forward as his cock head pushed into me, more of my hair slipped over my face. So, now as the men glanced at me from time to time, they definitely couldn't see my pleading eyes. Thomas grunted and gave a dirty little laugh, as the landlord continued with his speech.

"Who will stick up for Nina?" he asked.

"Who will stick it up Nina more like," Thomas hissed.

I felt him thrust and in that one movement he went right into me. I cried out on the gag again, but only the odd head turned in my direction. Thomas started to fuck me as I was held there bent over. I knew that any struggle was quite useless, but after a few of his excited thrust, I found myself relaxing. I'm not saying I gave in; I just didn't want to strain my neck or hurt my wrists. I was wet I knew that, but that didn't mean I wanted him fucking me. Not only that, but the bastard was tormenting my nipples, tweaking and pulling them hard! 

"See you fucking prick teasing slut, there is only so much a man can take. God I'm fucking loving this. Hey what would hubby do if he saw this, fight me off or cream himself?"

Again I groaned on the gag, and this time Andy seemed to take more notice of me. Thank god he was coming over. I started struggling again, and trying to send him messages with my eyes. I suppose he couldn't see with my hair over my face.

"Hey you are really getting into the part. Don't worry they won't really hang you."

I growled again through the gag as Thomas fucked me harder.

"God you are all sweaty. Don't worry Christine, dad won't take long, and then it's my turn. Hey have you ever been fucked in the ass?"

"Nearly finished boy," Thomas hissed in a whisper. 

I started screaming into the gag. Thomas had now grabbed my hips and was pushing in much deeper. I heard him gasp and grunt and then he let out a long sigh. He pulled out giving my ass a sharp slap. Andy had gone, and I soon found out where too! I felt his finger trail over the crack of my ass. I pleaded through the gag for him not fuck me. Thomas now appeared in front of me, with a satisfied grin on his red face.

"Why don't you keep quiet, and let my boy give you a good stuffing. If you just let this happen he won't do your ass."

I wanted to tell them both to go to hell. I felt Andy start to finger my asshole. I nodded at the smiling Thomas.

"Just fuck her pussy Andy, OK?"

"Oh, dad, please?" he asked, sounding disappointed. 

"No son, besides your aunt Judith will be home in a few days, and you know she likes it up her bum."

My eyes closed in exasperation, at this fucked up family, but they soon opened wide, as Andy shoved his cock in my dripping pussy with one single thrust.

"Now you just enjoy my boy you whore," Thomas hissed with a grin.

I didn't mention the padding around the holes in the stocks before. But I was grateful for it now. I suppose my poor neck and wrists would have been rubbed raw. My feet were up on tiptoes now. Andy was taller than his father, and his thick cock seemed to almost lift me off my feet! I could hear him grunting and snorting behind me, and I could now feel his bloody fingers scratching at my clit! I tried to wriggle away, but he just gave a quiet dirty snigger.

"Oh no sexy, you should have some fun too," he groaned.

"Oh that's a good boy, always thinking of the slut he's fucking," Thomas whispered with a chuckle.

Again I just gave in as Andy banged me harder. God to think I actually sucked him, and then begged him to fuck me a few days ago! My body started to respond to his bloody fingers now, it just sort of shot through me. I climaxed and pushed myself back on his cock. I could hear little pants coming from him. I just felt my pussy give up and let things flow! Andy followed soon after, just as the landlord announced that Nina should hang. This brought a loud cheer, and covered the yelping Andy as he filled my pussy! The crowd of men filed out as Thomas pulled the gag off.

"You fucking piece of....."

I couldn't get the words out, as the gag had been stuffed back in my mouth.

"Now you listen to me slut, you deserved that for teasing me all this time," Thomas spat, "we are going to take you outside, and just remember, kids are out there, so no fucking screaming, clear?"

I nodded after a few seconds. Thomas gave me back my panties and I went to the loo to clean myself up. I just wanted to find Harry and get out of there. I didn't deserve what I got, but I did use Thomas so maybe I'd just keep quiet for now. I was also still trying to figure out why I had come so hard. Maybe the old Christine would have enjoyed it, but why did I seem to as well? Perhaps it was time to own up to who I was. Perhaps it was time to settle down with my husband, and just admit I was a slut like my old self! Something else would creep into my mind now and then, the money. I had a wealthy husband, and soon we would have a pay out from the house insurance. Maybe it was time to stop fighting who I was and reap the benefits? Yes, the old me was really coming out now. When I came out from the loo they were both waiting for me.

"Do you like kids?" Thomas asked.

I was taken out to the tree with Thomas and Andy either side of me. I looked up at the tree. A little girl ran up to me and handed me a bunch of flowers. She ran back, and then a boy approached. He gave me a card and a book, Thomas whispered to me. I gulped and read from the card.

"My name is Nina, I have been very bad and, and I'm sorry. I'll never be bad again."

I jumped as everyone started clapping and cheering. This was one weird village!

"We always end it this way; we don't want to frighten the little ones."

"Dads right, the kids go home much happier knowing Nina is sorry for what she did. Now all you have to do is read them a story from the book." 

I felt Thomas give my ass a final swat. I looked between the two of them with a very confused mind. It didn't last long as I was dragged away by lots of smiling kids. So there I stood under the tree reading to a dozen or so children. I must have spent nearly an hour reading to them, and by the time I finished yet another story, Harry walked out of the pub looking a little confused. 

"God what did I miss?"

I dragged him to one side about to have a go at him, but something stopped me. 

"Oh me spending the last hour reading to kids. Harry when can we leave here, and find a place to live, a place of our own?"

To say he looked shocked was an understatement. I put my arm through his and we walked back the two miles to the house. I suppose now I had to make a go of our marriage. No more false starts or thinking I was being tricked somehow. No this was my husband and I had to try and get over my stupid thoughts. Even with what happened with Thomas and Andy, just a few hours ago, I had to forget it and move on. Still when we had the money we could find our own house. Somewhere in town would be nice. I decided I would give our marriage a year, or maybe 6 months. If we didn't get on then I'd divorce him. Anyway, I was sure whatever I had done in the past, I was still entitled to half I mean some of his money. 

"Not many pills left?" Harry asked, as I took one.

"I still don't know what they do, but they must be helping me somehow," I replied.

He stood behind me kissing my neck and cuddling me. 

"Joey is coming to stay for a few days," he mumbled.

I looked at Harry in the mirror. He was nibbling my ear now, but he still watched me for a reaction.

"After what happened the last time, do you think that is wise?"

"Look you know what I like now and you liked it too. Let's just see what happens, I'm not forcing you, I'd never do that."

"I don't want to Harry; I want to be a normal wife, isn't that enough for you?"

"Of course it is, but what about Thomas?"

"I told him I wouldn't, it was a stupid idea."

I felt him pull away. 

"I don't mind talking about it, like we did the other night, but I can't be the bitch I was, I have tried Harry," I said, holding his hands before they left my body.

"OK, maybe you are right."

"Um, I have got something that might help. You know that thing that strap on thing. You could use that on me; wouldn't that be better than letting me do it with other men?"

His hands slid back round my waist, and then up covering my breasts. 

"It sort of makes up for my lack of inches, I suppose this is the only way I'll be a cock god," he said with a chuckle. 

I really tried to get into the idea of being a wife, but it still didn't help not fancying my husband. Hopefully, with time I would grow to love him, like he loved me. It was going to be hard at first but I had to try and give us both a chance. Then well, I always had my other option. So there I was an hour later waiting on the bed. I hadn't seen the thing yet, I hadn't even taken the wrapping off the box. When Harry came in with it dangling from his waist, my eyes opened wide and I swallowed hard.

"Why did you buy a black one?" he asked, with a frown.

Fuck the colour! That was the least of my worries, the bloody thing was huge! I looked at the jet black cock that I was going to struggle with. It looked so bloody thick. I doubted if I would get my fingers around it, as for putting it in my pussy, well it just wasn't going to fit!

"I don't know why I bought a black one really," I licked my lips nervously, "look maybe this isn't a good idea, I think you should just fuck me without it."

"Oh come on, we have to try it. God if I had a cock this size I'd...."

That was all I needed, Harry getting all enthusiastic over a bloody strap on cock!

"Look at it, fuck it's big. No wonder they call it 10 of the best, it must the length," he said chuckling with delight.

"Harry, Harry it'll hurt me," I moaned, with my eyes glued to it as it jerked around.

"I'll be gentle, anyway this might help. God you think of everything, lubricating cream."

"Just put plenty on, won't you? You will take it easy won't you Harry?"

I felt him nuzzle the black knob between my pussy lips. I tried to relax, but when I saw the look on Harry's face my blood ran cold. It was like it really was his cock, he just kept admiring it! I felt the greased plastic push in a little. I winced and looked into Harry's face. His eyes had that strange look again. 

"God Harry it's too thick, please be careful?" I whimpered.

He started chuckling and looked down at me.

"Christine, you bought it so you must have thought you could take it? Anyway you bought this colour on purpose didn't you? You had to buy one this big to mock me didn't you?" he sniggered, as he pushed in further.

I gasped and winced again. I could feel my poor pussy expanding with every inch!

"Harry I didn't buy it to, to tease you. I wouldn't do that," I stammered.

"Well that's not what this means is it, black, and 10 inches long. See it's in all the way. Oh don't look so pained, you must have had something similar, surely one of your old boyfriends had something nearly as huge?"




Amnesia Ch. 08-09



These are the final two chapters of Amnesia. Based on reader response on another site, I am adding an epilogue. I am greatly indebted to Erik Thread for his patience and consistent support while we worked the daylights out of this story. I hope you agree he made it a better read. Any errors are mine.

*

The F.B.I. arrests of Elliot Stainsby, Conrad Blyer, and Aaron Mahon were not front-page news. It made the news alright, but set back behind two other stories that took precedence. A destructive tornado in Texas and Oklahoma was the lead, and a navy jet crashing near the heavily populated Sheepshead Bay district attracted a lot more attention. There had been no mention of Stanton Mellows in the story. He had not been charged.

Tony had been called by reporters at the restaurant several times and he had given the stock answer. He was unable to discuss anything before the trial was held. He would not be granting any interviews. Luckily for him, it seemed to work. Within a couple of days, he wasn't receiving any more calls. That would change when the trial started, but that was almost a year in the future by the sound of things.

The Marinos couldn't have picked a worse time to move into their new home. December! Cold, rain, sleet, wind. The former owners had vacated the premises earlier that last week of the November, right after Thanksgiving. Nina had arranged for the movers to pack and deliver their household goods from Westport the following week.

The Nantucket house had been listed in early November and they already had competing bids for more than the listed price. Tony just smiled and said "sit tight." There was no rush. The Westport house had a serious offer standing for just below the asking price that their agent was suggesting they accept. Tony wanted to hold out for another week and he and Nina promised the agent they would decide then. 

The pieces were falling into place. The children, however, were not pleased. Moving during the school year was bad enough. Losing their friends was worse. 

"The children are having a hard time with this move, Tony," Nina said over dinner one evening. "I wish we could have delayed it for them until the school year was done. That would have made it easier, particularly on Nadia."

Tony nodded, acknowledging the difficulty Nina was having. The sale of the houses, the move, and now the kids. "I know there is a lot of pressure on you, Nina. You're handling it very well, but I want to take that pressure off. 

"I hesitate to suggest this ... but ... what if the kids were converted to live-in status? If there was room, they could stay at the school with the other 'live-ins' and be near their friends. We could have them come to the city on weekends and holidays. It would just be for the rest of the school year," Tony suggested cautiously. "I know you wanted no part of live-in when we chose the private school in the first place. But the situation has changed. It would only be for a half-year."

Nina sat staring at the wall, lost in thought. Tony remained silent, waiting for her response. 

"I'm willing to talk to them about it," she said at length. "You know I'm not keen on them living elsewhere. But ... I think ... to be fair ... I'll talk to them. At least it gives them a choice."

Tony smiled. He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently as she turned to him. There was nothing more to be said.

Nadia, and especially Jared, were excited with the prospect of becoming "live-ins." It was made clear that this would only be for the balance of this school year, and then they would be moving to the city permanently. That they had a choice surprised the two. Jared jumped at it right away without giving it any thought. A number of his friends were already living at the school. To him it was an easy decision.

Nadia was more thoughtful. 

"I was thinking how empty this house was when Dad wasn't here. I know how important he is to you Mom. I feel the same way. I'm not sure, but ... I'll give it a try. If I can't handle living there, I can pick up my last semester in New York if I have to." 

Nina contacted the school and found there was still some space available. She went to the school to discuss the arrangements and within a week, the two Marino offspring were officially registered as "live-ins." 

Nina told Tony how much she would miss her children. They had helped keep her sane when Tony was missing. They were the anchor for their Westport home. Now, that home was gone and she would have to manage by herself for a few months. Mrs. Martinez had found employment with Nina's neighborhood friend, Brenda McCauley. Nina said she was confident that Maria would be happy in the new household.

And so, by the second week of December, Tony and Nina were living in their new home in the Bronx. Nina spent the days unpacking and organizing, arranging and then rearranging. Tony would come home and find the living room furniture moved on more than one occasion. It was a sign that Nina wasn't settled yet. She talked often of missing the children, despite the fact that they saw them almost every weekend.

They decided to keep one of their cars, Nina's. It was a late-model Lexus. The townhouse came with a two-car garage, but one would be enough for their needs. Tony would take a bus or a cab to work and not have to worry about parking. Nina could take the parkway to Yonkers or Mount Vernon for shopping. She would not, however, attempt to drive in Manhattan.

By February, they were established in their new home and becoming accustomed to their new lifestyle. Nina was happy to have Tony in the mornings before he left for the market. She adapted to his being gone until after nine in the evening. She had given herself a little task on Tony's behalf. She was looking for a site for the Bistro that Tony wanted to create. 

Magda and Martin had become regular visitors. They were now a couple and Magda had quietly told Nina that he might be "the one." Martin, for his part, confessed to Tony he was still in limbo, unable to comprehend what he was doing in company with a beautiful, successful woman like Magda. He was now officially retired, although he kept in touch with his former colleagues at the precinct. 

Magda was introducing him into the world of professional photography and he was enjoying working with her and Emil. He spent some considerable time examining the connection between photography and security. Cameras were commonplace now in every commercial establishment and he talked to Magda more than once about combining his knowledge of security with photography. 

The children were adapting to their new accommodations at school. They complained about the food when they were home, but other than that, they were happy. Nadia had decided to stick it out until June, although she missed her parents, particularly her father. Their report cards indicated they were doing OK with their schoolwork. Nothing spectacular, but at least keeping up passing grades.

Nina had settled into a routine. She was rediscovering her old "stomping grounds" one district at a time. She was waiting for a break in the weather to meet more of her new neighbors, but everyone seemed friendly enough and she had made herself known to her immediate neighbors, both of whom were older than Tony and her. 

She was already investigating schools for Nadia and Jared. Nadia would be entering her last year of high school while Jared would be entering grade nine. She expressed surprise to Tony that they were growing up so fast and would be gone in a few years. She wondered aloud about the life she and Tony would have then.

Tony was absorbed in Amnesia! for the time being. He was helping Erik Carver develop into a head cook. The young African-American was a good student and just needed the self confidence to take on a kitchen of his own. At twenty four, he was engaged to a lovely young girl he had been dating since high school. They were waiting for his next raise to get married. Tony had shared with him his plans for a new restaurant. Erik may just inherit Amnesia!

Tony had also talked to Mr. Leung about his plans, including the share swap with the new location, if it was successful. Mr. Leung gave it some thought and then agreed with the proposal. He always had the option to bail out if it didn't look viable, but Mr. Leung also said Tony's business sense was very good and he trusted his judgement. Tony had made Amnesia! a bigger success than he ever expected and Mr. Leung was grateful.

Muriel would have her choice; working at the new bistro or at Amnesia! She needed some relief from the long hours at the Bamboo Terrace. She would be sixty-three soon. Mr. Leung had plenty of young cooks to take over for her now. She wanted a change, and she was delighted with the prospect of sharing a kitchen with Tony once more. She announced she would be more than satisfied with an assistant cook's role.

David Polikoff was working part-time at Amnesia! After school he filled in with Erik when Tony was away, and was a regular full time on Saturdays. He would finish his culinary courses later this spring and would be looking for a permanent job. The prospect of the new restaurant that Tony had proposed might be his opportunity. He made no secret of wanting to work with him and hoped he would get the opportunity.

David had a girlfriend now. Debbie Simmons was also a student at the culinary school. They had been teamed together early on and both got on well. She was a lively, blonde-haired young woman. A bit plump, but still very attractive. David loved her sense of humor, even when things weren't going well. She kept him from going off when he burned something, or a dish didn't turn out the way it was supposed to.

-0-

Tony had time to reflect on his new life now. He was unhappy with himself for ever thinking that Nina could be unfaithful. These past months had been all the proof that he would ever need that she was totally devoted to him. She didn't hesitate for a moment in giving up the luxuries of their former life to see him happy. He wondered again at how he could have been so selfish and arrogant in his previous life.

His memory was almost completely restored now. Almost. There were still gaps and missing pieces, but he now knew what kind of animal he was in his previous existence. He wanted no part of that life any more. His new life and his new friends were far more important to him. There may be pieces of his past that he did not recall, but there would be no amnesia when it came to Major Tom, Muriel, Martin, or a host of others that had resurrected him. They gave without thought of reward. He would not forget them.

Some of what he remembered from his past he'd just as soon forget again. He hadn't been a saint. He was just as vulnerable to cheating as the next man. He had easily fallen prey to the old saw: If some is good, more is better. But today ... today, he was a better man. One who could look himself in the mirror and not flinch at the sight. 

-0-

Tony had a visitor one afternoon at Amnesia! He had been sitting at a small table with his usual iced tea and the morning paper when a woman approached. Tony looked up and began to stand as she came near.

"Are you Tony Milano?" she asked.

"That's me," he smiled. She was an attractive woman in her early forties.

"I'm Sheila Thompson. We haven't met. My ex-husband is Martin Polikoff."

"Oh ... yes ... of course. Won't you sit down? Can I get you something?"

"Coffee would be fine," she said, smiling slightly. 

Tony signaled to Carl and the coffee arrived quickly.

"How can I help you, Mrs. Thompson?"

"It's Sheila. May I call you Tony?"

Tony nodded. "Of course."

"I've been meaning to come here for some time. I think you know that David lives with my husband and me. Until recently, he's been ... difficult. He's very upset that his father and I divorced and he's never really accepted his step-father. I remarried about three years ago and that's when the trouble started." She paused. She was visibly having difficulty telling the story.

"When Martin told me that he was working with you in a tavern, I was very unhappy. I thought it was completely inappropriate for him to be employed in this environment at his age. I was very upset with Martin and David." She stopped again and sipped her coffee. 

"But ... something happened when he met you. It was like a light switch went on. His father enrolled him in that special school and it was like he was a different boy. I owe you a debt of gratitude if, as Martin says, you were the spark that gave him a sense of direction. He is very serious about learning to become a cook. He talks about it all the time. And ... he has a girlfriend. One that my husband and I approve of." She offered a faint smile at last.

Tony nodded. "I'm pleased you saw a positive change in him." 

The woman carried on. "So ... today I'm here to personally thank you. I'm still not thrilled about him working in a tavern, but I don't get the idea that you've been leading him astray," she smiled again.

"Thank you, Sheila. David's a good kid with a bright future. He's doing what he wants to do and it's fun for me to see him progress. I'm just glad I had the opportunity to give him a boost."

"Martin told us about you. How you had lost your memory and your family before you started to get it back. That must have been horrible."

"Actually, in a way, it was the best thing that every happened to me. Both my wife and I discovered what was really important in our lives and it's made us closer and stronger. Martin and a few other people were largely responsible for making my life better. He's a good friend now," Tony concluded.

She smiled as she rose. Holding out her hand, "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Tony. And, thank you again for helping David. He thinks very highly of you. So do my husband and I."

Tony told Nina about the visit when he arrived home that night. Nina was pleased. She said it was nice gesture and just more evidence that the "new Tony" was making a difference.

-0-

Tony was sitting at his makeshift desk in the kitchen, looking over the inventory. He had been making notes of supplies he needed to order. The food service suppliers would provide most of the items when he faxed his order in before leaving for home that evening. 

He was lost in thought when the swinging kitchen doors burst open and a disheveled, older man burst in. It took Tony a moment to recognize Stanton Mellows, and that he was waving a small gun around in his right hand. Tony froze on the spot. 

"There you are, you bastard. You think you're so smart ... you think you're going to be some kind of hero ... well think again," he yelled.

He was drunk, of that Tony was certain. He held the gun unsteadily, waving it about the kitchen as he continued his rant.

"You sicced the F.B.I. on me ... didn't you. You told them to raid my house and take all my stuff. I'll get you for that," he cried, his voice cracking under the strain. 

Again, the gun was waving back and forth. Tony didn't look behind him or he would have seen Erik crouching behind one of the counters, his eyes as big as saucers. David had left a half-hour earlier or he might have been in the line of fire as well. Slowly, Tony began to rise from his chair. He was trying hard not to make any sudden moves as the drunken old man continued his harangue. 

"I'll get even, Milano. I'll teach you a lesson. You can't take everything away from me and get away with it." Mellows was unsteady on his feet, weaving back and forth as he waved the gun carelessly. His hair was plastered all over his head from the rain. His suit coat was wet and rumpled, as was his shirt. His tie was missing and Tony wondered briefly how he got himself into this condition.

He was snapped out of his momentary lapse when the gun went off. It wasn't a loud explosion ... more like a heavy popping sound. Mellows looked at the gun as if he didn't understand what had happened. His eyes were wide in surprise and then he turned back to Tony.

He aimed the gun at Tony's chest. At this distance, he couldn't miss. Tony was almost certain that this was going to end badly for someone when he saw Carl's face at the kitchen door window. Mellows saw Tony look past him and turned to see what Tony was looking at. It was the only chance Tony was going to get. He lunged at Mellows.

It was a cross between an old fashioned football block and a dive. Whatever, it worked. He hit Mellows squarely in the chest with a resounding thump. In the seconds that followed, he was aware of hearing another shot and seeing Mellows' hands fly apart as they crashed back through the kitchen doors and out into the tavern.

Mellows lay on his back, gasping for breath. The gun was gone from his hand and didn't seem to be anywhere within his reach. Tony picked himself up and looked down at the defeated old man. Stanton Mellows was once a man of stature and reputation in this town. Not any more. He seemed to be shrinking before their very eyes as he lay on the floor.

Erik crept carefully out of the kitchen, stepping gingerly around Mellows and walking to the bar.

"Carl, call 911," Tony finally managed, still looking at the fallen man.

"Already done, Tony. I saw the gun when he came in and called them right away. They should be here pronto."

"What happened to the gun?" Tony asked idly. 

Carl shrugged. He had been standing by the kitchen doors when Tony leaped at Mellows and the bartender was knocked back behind the bar by the force of the door hitting him.

Two uniformed police officers arrived at that moment and walked warily into the tavern.

"We got a call there was a man with gun," one said.

"That's him," Tony said, pointing at the still fallen Mellows.

"What's this all about?" the other officer asked, his eyes surveying the room.

"This man had a grudge against me," Tony offered. "You can check with the F.B.I. and they will tell you he's being investigated for fraud and other securities violations. You can also check with Detective Sergeant Martin Polikoff. He knows the whole story." 

Mellows hadn't made any attempt to get up. He just lay on the floor, breathing heavily, eyes unfocussed, looking like death warmed over.

"You might call an ambulance for this man. He doesn't look too good and I'm pretty sure he's very drunk. At his age and in his condition, you'd hate to have him die on your watch," Tony warned.

The ambulance arrived fifteen minutes later and took Mellows to the hospital emergency ward for examination. One of the uniformed officers went with him. The other had retrieved the gun from the floor near the front windows.

"This the gun?" he asked.

Tony nodded. "Yeah ... I think he fired two shots. One by accident and the other when I hit him."

The officer had picked it up carefully, not wanting to disturb any fingerprints. It looked small and harmless.

"Looks like something his wife might have owned," the cop volunteered. "A .22, I'd say."

"Carl, it looks like we've lost our last customers. Why don't we have a drink and call it a day."

"Sorry guys, but the detectives will be along to get your statements. You're going to have to stay for awhile yet," the officer said apologetically.

Tony just shrugged while Carl poured two dark ales. They talked to relieve the tension that was now just beginning to evaporate. They agreed when things calmed down, they would phone their wives and tell them they would be late. They would not tell them what happened. That could wait. No need to upset them unnecessarily. 

Tony was surprised when Martin accompanied two other detectives into the tavern.

"I thought you were retired?" 

"I am. I got a call from a friend. What happened?" Martin asked.

"I had a visit from Stanton Mellows. He was a wee bit upset with me." 




Amnesia Ch. 08-09



"Mellows! Well, well, how about that. I heard something about a gun," Martin continued, oblivious to the frustrated looks from the other two detectives.

Tony picked up the signals. "How about I just tell this story once, guys. I'm sure we all want to get this over with as soon as possible."

Tony began to tell the events of the past half-hour as best he could recall them. Carl confirmed his observation of Mellows when he staggered into the bar and then burst into the kitchen. He had called 911 when he saw the gun in Mellows' hand. Erik supplied further eyewitness information that corroborated Tony's version.

It was almost midnight when Carl and Tony closed up. Erik had left a half hour earlier. Both men were mentally and physically tired. It had only begun to hit Tony that he had been in a life-threatening situation that could have ended tragically. 

He had called Nina earlier to tell her he would be late, but left the reason vague. She said she would wait up for him. 

Nina was still up, waiting anxiously for him. He walked quietly into the living room after hanging up his coat. She met him halfway across the room and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Martin called me," she said. 

"Oh. I guess you know then."

"Tony ... I don't know what I would have done if you'd been hurt ... or even ...." She let the thought go.

"It didn't hit me until later, Nina. I guess I was lucky. Maybe that's what all this is about. I'm lucky. They hire a hit man to kill me and he botches it. I lose my memory, but I get a better life in return. Then, Stanton wants to kill me, but ... again ... I get lucky. Maybe we should buy some lottery tickets," he joked.

Nina leaned back, smiling through her tears. "I know one thing for certain. I got lucky when I found you again." She looked at him lovingly. "Is it over now?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Stanton was the last of the four. He's virtually convicted himself. I just wonder if he'll live long enough to see prison. You should have seen him, Nina. A sick, tired old man. It's hard to believe he was ever the dynamic Wall Street warrior."

"As long as we don't have to worry about someone else coming after you," Nina moaned.

"I think we can quit worrying. There's no point in adding murder to a fraud charge for the other guys. No profit in that. Stanton was just drunk and angry. It's hard to believe he really would have tried to kill me. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. I just have to testify at the trial, and even then, they have enough evidence to convict even without me. Nothing's going to save them now."

Chapter 9: 

The "Mellows Incident" as Tony referred to it, stirred up the interest of the media. While Tony had escaped the spotlight when the three vice presidents were indicted, he wasn't able to dodge the reporters this time. A leaked police report and an informant in the local F.B.I. office made sure of that.

Martin was sure the F.B.I. leak was deliberate to get favorable press coverage of their "bust." He was angry that someone in his precinct thought it was clever to release the police report, but the damage had already been done. Tony was being besieged with requests for interviews. Reporters were banging on his door at all hours and Nina had retreated to Magda's apartment just to avoid them. 

Finally, Tony agreed to grant one interview to one television station; a private not-for-profit cable outlet. He called the F.B.I. to inform them what he intended to do, and while they were unhappy they realized that they were the authors of this situation with their own information leak. They advised him what to stay away from in terms of evidence. They did not want him compromising the trial with inadvertent help to the defence.

The interview focused on Tony's recovery from amnesia and the bizarre story surrounding it. There was little interest in the technical details of the fraud, merely that it precipitated the attempt on his life, his memory loss, his new life and new identity and finally, his reuniting with his wife and regaining most of his memory. It was a great human interest story and the cable station ran the interview several times to milk the maximum value from it.

A major publisher contacted him and offered a sinful amount of money for the exclusive story, but Tony put them off, citing complications with the forthcoming trial. Perhaps afterwards, he hinted. He would at least do them the courtesy of discussing it. 

Aurelia Chinetti had passed them on to Tom Hanson, an associate who specialized in commercial property, and in April, he had found a suitable site for Tony's restaurant. Ironically, it had been a photography shop. The location was good, the size was right and the access for commercial deliveries was in place through the traditional lane in the back. The space would have to be gutted, but that was no surprise. By very good luck, there was public parking available across the street, an unusual benefit in this district. 

For a while, Tony was concerned about short-term financing and a need to dip into his special reserve, but got a surprise from Mr. Leung. He was willing to act as banker for the venture at bank prime rate. Tony and the elderly man sat down and hammered out the details in contract form. Repayment terms held no penalties for early retirement of the loan. Mr. Leung's English hadn't improved very much, but his confidence in Tony had. He was pleased to have the opportunity to be Tony's partner.

In addition, he had held preliminary talks with Picardo Publishing regarding a ghost-written account of his story. They amount they were offering as an advance, one million dollars, was too much to ignore. If he could manage that project without sacrificing his time with Nina and the family, he would probably go ahead with it.

In the meantime, work on the new restaurant was about to get underway. The approvals and permits were now in place and a contractor had been hired. Expected opening date was September, the day after Labor Day. It was going to be a hectic summer.

Tony had convinced Nina to participate in the development of the restaurant. She had a good eye for color and style and she could bargain hunt with the best of them. She happily accepted the challenge and set about finding the furnishings and decorations to make their new bistro come to life. 

On a cool, spring Sunday, Tony and Nina sat on a park bench, quietly enjoying their afternoon walk. Everything in their lives seemed to be falling into place. The turmoil of the past had been replaced by the hope of the future. Nina was confident that they would thrive in this new life if she could keep Tony from working too hard and falling into that old trap. She promised him she wouldn't stop hounding him about it if it looked like he was getting too far immersed.

Tony expressed a feeling of accomplishment. A new life, a new home, a new career, and a new resolve to be a better husband and father. 

As they sat together, neither heard the approach of the two men. When they came to a stop in front of the bench, Tony looked up.

"Mr. Milano," agent Thorson said quietly.

"Agent Thorson ... Pellegrino ... I didn't expect to see you here," Tony said with slight smile.

"Would you come with us, please," Thorson asked politely.

"Why?" Tony asked, puzzled.

"You're under arrest, sir. You are charged with fraud, breach of trust, and interstate commerce violations."

First with a look of shock, then with a look of resignation on his face, Tony turned his head slowly to see a horrified Nina.

"I'm sorry, babe. I really am."

* 

Authors Note: Originally, this story ended here. The response I got from my readers was overwhelmingly negative. I suppose that shouldn't be a surprise, but ... there you are.

For those of you who were disappointed, I am writing an epilogue. For those of you who are satisfied, ignore it.

Otherwise, Cheers,

Coaster



Amnesia Ch. 08



I felt him slowly pull it out and then push it in. I felt every fraction slide into me; I gasped and winced as the whole length was now in me. Harry looked down at my face watching my features contort. 

"Maybe the old Christine would have been better behaved if I had used this! What do you think; do you think this would have cured your frustration? Fuck, am I getting to like this now!"

He was still going slowly, but I could sense his excitement growing. I didn't want him to really start fucking me, I thought I'd die!

"See that bitch? You should be frightened now I have this!"

"Harry, I'm not the old Christine, I don't remember doing those things, please just remember that, please!" I said frantically.

I let out a little yelp as he started to increase the pace. He was lost to lust now. Judging by the look on his face he was fucking the old Christine, and with what I have been told she deserved this, but I didn't! 

"Are you going to fuck my friend slut? Are you going to let Joey have you and tease me?"

"No, no I won't, Harry I won't do anything with anyone else I swear!" I shrieked frantically.

He grabbed my hair and started getting faster.

"Oh you will if I want you to, you fucking well will!" he hissed.

I saw a grin spread across his face, like he had thought of something wicked.

"Yeah, you can fuck around, and I can fuck you with this to punish you," he spat excitedly.

"Oh bloody hell Harry. No!" I shrieked.

Now this was hurting, but maybe not as much as I thought it should. My pussy was really starting to like the odd feeling of pain. I was frightened more than anything else. I expected pain and I got it, but maybe because of my past, it didn't feel as bad as it should of!

"It said on the box they do 12, 14, and 16 inches too. So what do you think Christine, shall we work our way up the list?"

I didn't like the idea, but my pussy did! It just hurried my orgasm along. I was panting, moaning, hurting, and fucking loving it! Maybe I could take this size in the past, and now my pussy was getting back to stretching like she used too!

"Oh come on then fuck me with it! Maybe it does make up for your useless prick, but Joey is just as good."

"You fuck him and I fuck you!" he snarled.

"No Joey fucks me, and you get to use this, it's not you fucking me it's a lump of plastic. But it feels so much better!" I snarled, as my toes curled and my orgasm submitted to my black master.

Harry collapsed forward, and the air was forced out of my lungs. He was panting and groaning trying to calm down. OK I had got him off using a few words. Normally now his cock would go soft and slip out of me. But it wasn't his cock; it was a lump of 10 inch thick plastic, that stayed hard, and deep in my pussy!



Amnesia Ch. 09



A few days later Joey turned up. He and Harry acted as though nothing had happened. I seemed to be the only one who found this awkward. I could feel the sly looks Joey was giving me, and when I turned round he would give me that dirty grin. I really didn't want to go to the pub on the first night of Joey's visit, but there I sat as they played pool. 

"Oh lover boy is back then sweetheart, maybe we could make up a foursome?"

I just shot Thomas an angry glare. He chuckled and moved back to the bar. I watched the two friends playing pool. They seemed happy and joked about something. 

So this was my life, married to a man that I couldn't remember. Then there was his friend. I started thinking of them fucking me, I don't know why, maybe because I was on my fifth wine. Would they take me to bed separately, or together? I rocked a little uncomfortably on the stool. My panties felt wet.

Andy had come into the pub, and both he and Thomas took time to grin knowingly at me. Thomas whispered to Andy and I watched him turn. Andy looked at Joey, and then at me and winked. I felt so embarrassed and humiliated. It was obvious what Thomas had told Andy. As more of Andy's friends came into the pub, I could tell he was telling them about Joey and me. Soon I had a dozen leering men looking me over. 

"Get the drinks honey we are going to the loo."

I looked at the £20 note that Joey had slapped into my hand. I walked up to the bar as my husband and his friend disappeared. My face was on fire as I stood at the bar. Thomas tilted his head, making it obvious he was appraising my ass or legs.

"So, are you having a party tonight then sweetheart?"

Several of the men chuckled. I just tried to ignore him.

"You really do look sexy tonight. A nice little low cut dress, and so short. I bet we'll be able to hear your screams in the village tonight."

The laughing died abruptly as I tipped the beer over his head. He went to grab my wrist but Andy grabbed his arm. 

"Fucking whore, fucking slut," Thomas spat, as I rushed to the loo. 

I sat there feeling every part of my body shake. So that was me, the real Christine, a slut and a cheating wife! My old life was going to follow me around forever, and I couldn't remember one single thing about it. I looked at my silver dress that showed off so much cleavage. The hem was 9 inches over my knee, and showed off so much of my legs covered in barely black tights with bows on the ankles. The black court shoes with 5 inch high heels just made me look worse. But even though I thought I looked like a tart, I actually didn't mind too much. I know this is different from when I first saw my wardrobe, but the sexy clothes just seemed to grow on me. I must have liked what I bought before my amnesia, so why wouldn't I grow to like it? The new pills I took seemed to relax me a little more; maybe I was slipping into my old self now. I constantly felt aroused just by the smallest thing. But deep inside of me I felt scared by this change. Still, once a slut always a slut I suppose. Another thing worried me more than anything else. I had tried to put out of my mind that I had wanted Harry dead, or that I did before the fire. But here I was carrying on as though it had never happened, and Harry wanted me to have sex with the guy that I had planned it with!

"Are you alright Christine? You were gone a long time." 

I nodded and gave Harry a weak smile. His hand went on my ass as we walked back to the bar. Thomas, Andy, and their friends had gone. But I could see a few older couples shaking their heads, as Harry patted my ass. I suppose I should have pushed his hand away, but I found myself growing to like being watched. We were stood at the bar now, and I found myself becoming aroused as Joey slipped his hand in mine. I gave it a gentle squeeze as Harry continued feeling my ass. 

"So do we take you home and have some fun?" Joey whispered in my ear.

I felt his lips on my neck as he held my hand more firmly. 

"You had better ask my husband," I replied.

I watched them smile at each other. I could feel my nipples tingling more and more. The landlord smiled at me, and then my nipples. I found myself giving him a smouldering look.

"You know I'm a little short staffed at the moment. How about I give your wife a job behind the bar?"

My husband gave a little chuckle.

"No, I don't think she is up to that, besides she worked in a pub but not as a barmaid, she used to lap dance," Harry said with a wink at the landlord.

"Well may be I could arrange something like that, if you like?"

I found myself pulling my hand out of Joey's and pushing my husband's hand away from my backside. Harry shook his head, the landlord shrugged and moved away.

"Was I really a lap dancer?" I asked faintly in shock.

"Oh yes, and a bloody good one," Joey replied with a snigger.

We went home an hour later, getting a taxi due to the rain that had been falling non stop all day. I just sat there trying to imagine me dancing and allowing all those men to watch. I just couldn't see myself doing it, but with what happened in the pub, maybe it came easier to me than I would have wished. Just the thought of dancing in some scanty costume, and getting leered at seemed to be disgusting, but then again if that's what I was, then how could I argue? 

"I reckon we could be cut off again, we were last year when there was a landslide on the town road," the taxi driver said.

"Does that happen often then?" Joey asked.

"No, only every time it rains," the taxi driver said with a chuckle, "this is the only road out and in to the village, still you folks needn't worry, just as long as you've got enough food."

"Don't worry, I bet Chris has got enough to keep us going," Joey chuckled, as his hand squeezed my leg.

I made coffee and sat next to Joey on the couch. His hand had been on my leg all the way back in the taxi. I didn't even try to push him off. Now his hand was over my shoulder, and he pulled me to him. I could see an obvious lump in his trousers. Harry just sat there watching the telly ignoring us. Maybe it was the wine or something, but I found myself just letting things develop. I knew this was wrong but I just couldn't stop it. Harry wanted it, Joey wanted it, and now I kind of wanted it!

I gasped slightly as Joey put his free hand in the top of my dress. He slowly caressed my breast and squeezed my nipple between his fingers. He turned my head to his and kissed me. I looked at Harry waiting for some response but he just sat there. So this was what my husband wanted, and now he was going to see it. Joey and I kissed again, only this time I gave as good as I got. I even moaned a little as we kissed, again no reaction from Harry!

"Is that right you have bought your husband a new toy?" Joey asked, as he rolled my nipple.

I looked at Harry waiting for him to say something. He didn't and I wasn't really surprised. I felt a damp patch spread in my tiny panties. Joey turned my head towards him. He kissed me again. His tongue pushed past my lips and into my mouth. I didn't respond by kissing him back this time, but my panties became a little stickier. He pulled off the kiss and grinned into my eyes. I just sat there emotionless. He carried on ginning as he slipped the thin straps off my shoulders. He tugged my dress down to my waist; again I just let it happen. His fingers pulled and stretched my nipples, and he was back to kissing me. I started kissing him back again, as he tormented my aching nipples.

"You need it don't you babe, huh?" Joey teased.

He lifted my large breast with his hand, cupping it underneath. 

I felt my shoes being pulled off and I pushed Joey away so I could look down. Harry was at my feet smiling up at me. He lifted my left foot and ran his wet tongue over my toes. I looked down as he opened his mouth really wide. I gasped as he put all my toes in his mouth, and then he started to suck and lick them. Joey had been tormenting my nipples the whole time. He turned my head back to him and resumed kissing me. 

I pushed him off after a few seconds. I looked down at Harry again. If he could get my whole foot in his mouth he surely would. I pointed my foot pushing my toes into his slobbering mouth.

"You had better do my other foot in a minute," I prodded his thigh with the heel of my shoe, "do you hear me?"

I whimpered a little as I felt Harry remove my shoe. I went back to kissing Joey as Harry sucked on fresh toes. 

"Well, it seems you like this a little, honey," Joey said with a smirk.

I pulled his head back to me and kissed him deeply. He chuckled as we kissed knowing I was willing to let things happen.

I suppose this was me now. I was turning into the old Christine, and I wasn't fighting anymore. I looked down at Harry, as Joey had now moved to suck my nipple. I watched and felt him cover my nylon clad foot with his saliva. I thought of how ridiculous this whole situation was. My husband licking and sucking my foot, as the man I had supposedly plotted to kill my husband with, sucked on my nipples!

I lifted my ass off the couch as Harry pulled my panties and tights down in one. His head moved between my bare spread legs, and he kissed my sopping pussy. Joey was back kissing my mouth again. It was almost like he expected me to protest and he was making sure I wouldn't. His fingers ran over my clit and I groaned on his tongue. I just lay in Joey's arms savouring the feel of two men working on me at the same time. 

"Get all my toes in your mouth, like you did to, to my other foot," I panted.

I was in slut land totally now. My fingers were fighting to release Joey's cock from his trousers. A few weeks ago I would never have dreamt this, but now I was living it!

"Suck him Christine," Harry panted, as he came up from between my legs with a very wet face.

In truth I didn't want Harry to stop. I had been close to an orgasm as his tongue worked my pussy, and Joey worked my clit for the last 10 minutes. Still, I slipped off the couch as Harry left the room. I was knelt between Joey's legs and tugging his zip down without being told, fuck how submissive is that! I had to struggle a little to get his erection out of his trousers.

"Careful whore," he spat, as I probably bent it the wrong way a little.

I didn't even care what he had called me. This was me or the old Christine, she was too strong a character to resist, or that's what I told myself. I took him in my mouth without batting an eyelid. It was so easy, and so natural for me to do now. He held my hair and twisted my head sideways. His cock made a bulge in my cheek, and he ran a finger over the obscene lump stroking back and forth. He chuckled as he stroked my cheek, almost like he couldn't believe this was happening. 

"Fucking like that do you bitch?" he grunted.

I looked up to see his dirty grinning eyes looking at me. I nodded, which caused his grin to widen. The way he talked to me didn't bother me, the words he used would disgust most women giving a guy a blow job I'm sure. But it seemed to spur me on to get him further in my throat! 

I heard Harry come back into the room; I didn't see him I just felt him kneel down behind me. He pulled my dress up crumpling it over my back. Then I felt it. My eyes opened wide and I went to move off of Joey's cock. I felt Joey grab my hair.

"No you don't sexy; you keep sucking me while I watch Harry fuck you with that black cock."

I whimpered and moaned as Harry slid the black strap on right into me. He just held it all the way in my dripping cunt. He then started rolling his hips as he grabbed mine. I cried out a little, but it was muffled by the cock in my mouth. 

"Go on fuck her hard man, shag the ass off her," Joey hissed, while he looked deep into my eyes with his devilish smile.

I tried pulling off his cock to protest. My reluctance seemed to amuse him and he gripped my head more firmly. Harry was starting to fuck me hard now; he was back in the same mood as the other day. I suppose he had the confidence of 10 inches of plastic between his legs, replacing that silly little worm he called a cock!

He started to really hammer into me. I started gagging as my mouth was forced further over Joey's cock. Joey didn't seem to care; he just held my head harder the deeper his cock went. His cock was in my throat now, and he loved it! I gagged loudly at one stage.

"Oh fucking hell yeah! Fuck her harder Harry I want to hear her again. Look at me, look at me," he repeated more strongly.

I looked up at him as he grinned down at me. I knew he was mocking me but I didn't care. Sex had taken me over completely now. It could have been anyone doing this to me. I still didn't fancy either of them that much, but I wanted what was happening, I just didn't care anymore! 

Harry was getting really excited now, and I braced myself against my husband fearing what was coming. But you try stopping an eager 17 stone man, with a 9 stone frame!

"Oh yeah!" Joey enthused, as I gagged yet again.

Even my bloody husband had a little chuckle! Joey let me up a little. His cock was just in my mouth now, and so was the first jet of hot spunk! It took me completely by surprise. I pulled off his hard dick and I coughed, sending it back out all over his cock.

"Fucking hell bitch, swallow!" he growled.

He pulled my mouth back over him and I relaxed a little. I could feel the second jet of spunk he had fired trickling down my cheek. The third and fourth went down my throat. I just knelt there feeling my own orgasm race through my body like Joey's hot spunk raced to my stomach! 

Joey was groaning and moaning as he came back down. My panting mouth was free of his cock now. But my husband was still fucking me hard. My dress felt tight around my belly, and when I turned my head I saw why. Harry had hold of my dress in his fist! He was using it to pull me back against him. I felt his body stiffen and he began breathing through his nose. He grunted and groaned as he shot his load. I looked over my shoulder to see his free hand pumping his cock under the strap on. His frantic fucking soon died down, and the tightness on my belly eased, as my gasping breaths became deeper. 

"Here, wipe your face." 

I took what Joey offered me and wiped my cheek. I could smell myself and then I saw I had just wiped my cheek with my wet panties! All 3 of us were panting and coming back down. I just had enough energy to crawl back on the couch and give my aching knees a rest. Harry got us some drinks and I lay in Joey's arms. We just sat watching the local weather report about the expected flooding. 

So this was Christine, this was what she would be doing for the rest of her life. I still couldn't remember anything from my past, but did that matter now? I just sat in silence for the next ½ an hour contemplating things. I suppose the sex wasn't that bad really. I still didn't fancy my husband, but he had money, and as his wife I had money! Joey wasn't much to look at either, but the sex was good, or so I thought. Maybe things would work out.

I must have dozed off for awhile, I looked at the man I was cuddling and things seemed to change. Maybe the booze had clouded my earlier thoughts. I just didn't feel right again.

"Ah, you are awake, sleepy head," Joey whispered, as he kissed the top of my head.

I went to pull off of him but he held onto me.

"Harry, why don't you put a video on?" Joey said with a grin at me.

Harry stood up and looked down at me with a smile. I could see a small lump in his trousers under his fat belly. Joey was now kissing my bare neck and groaning lustfully. He stopped as Harry moved to a bag and pulled out a video. I just wanted to go to bed now I didn't feel like watching a film. 

"Go on play it mate," Joey said, with a handful of soft white breast.

I could see Harry watching my face for a reaction. I turned back to the telly screen and my mouth dropped open in disbelief. I didn't even care that Joey was still tormenting my nipple. 

There I was on the screen, surrounded by a group of men. I was naked and they were in various stages of undress. I was sat on the floor with a cock in my hand and I was slowly jerking it. A white male backside filled the screen for a few seconds. When it moved a little there I was sucking and rubbing the cock of the owner of the backside! I watched the hand from another man move between my spread legs. I could see the shock on my face as I let the cock out of my mouth with a plop. I grinned up at the man as his finger wriggled in my pussy. Yet another man came into view from behind me. He was jerking his stiff cock and slipped it over my shoulder. He turned my head and I kissed and then sucked him for a few seconds. 

"It's really me!" I croaked.

Neither Harry nor Joey answered. I watched as I sucked or jerked cock after cock. I was turned over on all fours and some old guy; I guess around 50 to 60 lay down under me. I could see his tongue lapping at my pussy. Someone said something on the video, that I didn't quiet hear. All I heard was a few chuckles at the comment, my own included!

A cock was offered to my face, I just took it in my mouth without a second thought! The old man got out from between my legs and another ass filled the screen. I saw hands on my hips and the pelvis of this guy tight up behind me.

"Fuck that's good," the guy said. 

He was fucking me slowly as I sucked on the cock in my mouth. I watched as the cock in my mouth moved away and another man took his place! He started to fuck my mouth with slow short strokes. I heard myself gag and someone moaned as I did. The cock in my pussy was pulled out, and I didn't seem to notice or care as the guy finished himself off over my ass!

I saw the old guy move between my legs and he slipped into me. I couldn't believe how I just let this happen.

"Round here Bob, quick," a gasping voice said. 

The camera went fuzzy for awhile, when it cleared the cock inches from my face, that I assumed I had been sucking, spurted on my face! 

The camera went back behind me. I saw a couple of thumbs open my backside up. I swallowed hard as I watched some guy nuzzle the head of his cock by my stretched ass. 

I pulled out of Joey's arms and ran upstairs. I shut myself in the bedroom and just wanted to die. I heard Harry call through the door. I didn't answer. It went quiet and I heard him move away. 

I collapsed on the bed. I cuddled into the quilt, still with my dress round my waist. Even after what had happened down stairs in the present, I kidded myself I wasn't a slut. I put it down to being drunk, even though I had enjoyed it. But it was the video of the old Christine that convinced me I WAS the whore everyone said I was! So that was it, that was the proof I wanted, or rather I didn't want. Still it tied everything together in a neat little package now, even if it had been wrapped with black paper and black ribbons. This was me, Christine, wife, slut, whore, and attempted murderer!

I woke up sometime in the night; I could hear Harry and Joey talking downstairs in whispers.

"You said she wasn't ready," I heard Joey hiss.

"Well I thought she wasn't," Harry replied.

"You can't keep her all to yourself, that's what you want isn't it?"

So that was me a slut, a whore, call me what you want it won't make any difference. The way I seemed to love every second of what they were doing, hurt me more than anything. So they thought I was ready to let them take me to some other level, maybe like the group sex on the video? Did they have all those men standing by again? Well if I hadn't seen the video I wouldn't have believed it. I didn't feel ready for anything else. But even this thought I wavered over. I settled down to sleep again wondering what they were planning for me. A gang bang, it had to be.




Amnesia Ch. 09



I wrapped the quilt around my shoulders and looked out of the window. It was daybreak now, and I could see the fields opposite flooding with water. It must have rained all night, but it would never rain enough to wash away my memory of the whore on the video. Of all the things to have on video that I would want to see, they had to have that!

It was quiet downstairs; I went into the loo and sat there. I looked up at the pills, my pills that helped me! Helped me what exactly?

I went downstairs and made a coffee. I stared at the telly screen and wondered if the video was still in the machine. I don't know where my husband and Joey were, and frankly I didn't care. I went to the window and looked over to the river that had burst its banks. Maybe it was deep enough; I thought it wouldn't take much. I could slip into the swollen river and end this all. I turned away and looked at blank screen of the telly. That summed me up I suppose, or my memory, just a blank dark screen, no colour, no fond memories, nothing!

It was no longer a simple case of me leaving my husband; I wanted to leave my life. 

I switched the telly on. The 6 am news was on. My finger hovered above the video button but I stopped. The black girl that had disappeared had turned up. The newscaster said details were sketchy, but she had been abducted and had managed to escape.

I switched off the telly as the piece ended. Whatever she had gone through, whatever she had endured, I felt jealous. She managed to escape what lay in her future. I wanted to escape my whole life!

The End...or?



Amnesia Ch. 10



"Where did you go?"

"I took Joey to the railway station. The road is nearly cut off because of the mud slides we just made it. Soon the only way out will be by train."

"I didn't know the trains went by here," I said a little shocked. 

"The station is 2 miles the other side of the village. Not all of the train drivers are on strike; they have enough to run a train every 3 hours."

I had seen the train drivers strike on the telly, but it just didn't click that the trains went near here.

"So that was really me on the video. Where do we go from here? 

"I have to go on a business trip. I'll be away for a few days."

"OK, so what do I do when you are gone?"

He just looked away and walked out the room. I sat there wondering what to do. My life was totally fucked up, and Harry was just going to leave me here for a few days. I wished I had been a robot and then he could switch me off. I had no purpose to my life.

"Can I come with you?"

He stopped packing his case and he looked like he was going to say something, and then he stopped himself.

"I've got to go to village and get so money out," he mumbled, "I'll be back soon."

He shrugged himself out of my hand. I watched the door close behind him. 

I answered the phone, and 5 minutes later I sat in shock. The female detective had phoned, and told me she had been in contact with my husband, my real husband! He was on his way on the train to get me. Then she told me she had told her chief about what had happened and ½ an hour later she was told to forget about me. Her last words to me were, not to trust anyone, and I was part of something big, and not to speak to anyone apart from my real husband when I got on the train. Then the phone just went dead, all I knew about my real husband was what the detective told me. His name is Jeff, and he had blonde hair. I had to somehow stall Harry and take his place on the train.

I jumped as the front door opened and Harry walked in, his eyes ran over my body.

"What time does the train get here?"

"2 o'clock," he replied with a gulp.

"That gives us nearly 2 hours. Come on lets go to bed," I said, reaching out my hand. 

He licked his lips and looked at me. I smiled a nervous smile. He looked at his watch and then back at me.

"Harry please, come up stairs and we can have some fun."

His eyes watched as I rolled my naked breasts with both hands. 

He followed me upstairs and into the bedroom. I felt his hand on my stocking top. I tried my best to act natural and not scared. I told myself to keep calm. Soon I'll be with my real husband. 

"Strip off and get on the bed darling," I purred.

I watched him as he took his clothes off. I kept as calm as I could. 

"No, lay face down, please honey."

His face moved between my spread legs as he crawled on the bed. 

"Kiss her, go on kiss her, and give me your hands."

I had to use all my courage to stay there, as this fat disgusting man lapped at my pussy. The man that I thought was my husband.

"No don't cuff me," he said jerking his hands away.

"Come on you like it, trust me Harry, I'm your wife," I said sexily.

His tongue went back between my legs flicking over my button. I clamped the first cuff to his wrist, and then to the rail of the headboard. 

"Come on give me the other one, or do I have to threaten you?"

He looked up at me and I could hardly look at his face without spitting in it. I grabbed his hair and forced his face between my legs. 

"Do you want me to fuck around? Give me your hand or I'll never do it again. Hey maybe you and Joey could set me up with a group of guy's, would you like that?"

"Oh god yeah," he panted, in a muffled voice on my pussy. 

I felt an incredible surge run through me as I secured his other wrist to the bed. I crawled out and stood up leaving him tied face down.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't turn around darling. In fact shut your eyes."

I stood by the side of the bed 2 minutes later.

"OK, you can open your eyes now."

I watched as the smile on his face dropped.

"What are you going to do Christine?" he asked with a worried expression.

"That depends on you Harry, or whatever your name is. Answer my questions or this lump of black plastic goes straight up your fat, gross, ass!" I hissed.

I saw his eyes drop to the black strap on that I was wearing. He gulped and looked so frightened.

"OK, who am I?"

"You, you're Christine, my wife, stop this darling I'll, I'll miss my train."

"Wrong answer you asshole!" I yelled.

I went round behind him and slapped his fat ass. He pulled and jerked at the cuffs. I started rubbing the head of the strap on between the cheeks of his ass.

"Now this doesn't really appeal to me, but by god I'm going to fuck you with it if you don't start talking!" I snapped.

"Your name is Christine, really it is, I swear, you are my wife," he spat quickly.

"Yeah well that's not what the detective said," I snapped, as I pushed the head of the strap on against his ass crack.

"OK, OK, don't do that. Your name is Christine, really it is," he panted.

"Keep talking," I said, as I rubbed the cock on his ass.

"You were, no you are part of an experiment. The company abducted you. They, they pumped you full of drugs to get rid of your memory. Look just let me go; I never wanted to hurt you."

"No, but you didn't mind fucking me and telling me all those lies," I growled.

I pushed the plastic dick forward.

"You know Harry I bet your fat ass would split in half if I just rammed it in now. So just save yourself a lot of pain and talk."

"Alright, alright," he said with a trembling voice, "what do you want to know?"

"Tell me about the clinic, fatso," I hissed in his ear. 

"You spend nearly a month in the clinic, and then they put you out. They recalled you a month later, and then they do it all over again."

I was expecting something but I wasn't sure what. But this really hit me for six.

"Why do you think all those people disappear all over the world? People just don't vanish without reason. The company have hundreds of people like you, men and women. Everything has been a fake, from your mother to the wedding photo's, everything."

I sat there as he talked taking it all in. All the things he was telling about my mother and friends, the photos, and our marriage certificate was all faked!

"What about the house and that video?" I spat pushing the head of the cock in his asshole.

"Please don't do that," he whimpered.

"Talk then you fat bastard!" I yelled.

"The house was just one that burnt down while you were in the clinic, sort of an opportunity that came our way. The video, that happened on your last, your last regeneration. That was real."

"How many times I have been, regenerated?" I mumbled distantly.

"8, 8 times, then they take you. Ouch!" he screamed.

"Oh what's up Harry, I'm not even half way up your fat fucking ass yet! Why, why are they doing this to me?"

"What drives the world Christine? Why do you think? Now please take it out."

"No fucking way. That girl Emily, was she kidnapped too?"

He nodded.

"You said I was an experiment, why, what for?"

"The, the new drug, they are testing it on you. It cuts down the regeneration time by half. But your memory came back, after a few days, so they recalled you again. The second time it took a week to return. But this time, this time they have got it right, you don't remember a thing do you?"

I tried my best to come up with something that I had remembered.

"What about when I was small with my dad, and the Bike thing?"

"You never had a father, well your mum didn't know who he was, even on your birth certificate it says father unknown." 

"What about Joey, and Thomas and Andy?"

"Joey works for the company, Thomas and Andy don't. Hey, you didn't do it with them, did you? Fuck the drugs really do work well."

I didn't know what to think anymore, but I still had questions.

"When was I abducted?"

"4 years ago."

That was the biggest shock yet. 4 years out of my life! I pulled the cock out of his ass, and then thrust in with all my might. I began fucking him as hard as I could. He yelled and screamed as I just pounded into his fat ass. 

"4 fucking years, oh you fucking bastard! I can keep this going for ages, until the train gets here. Then I'm fucking off and leaving you with your new friend deep in your fat sorry ass!"

He was begging and pleading by now, in between the screams of pain! I just fucked him as hard as I could, until I was running with sweat from all the exertion. After a while I couldn't do it anymore. I unbuckled the strap on it leaving it deep in his ass.

"They won't let you go you know bitch. Even now they are on there way on the train. You know this was your penultimate regeneration, before they planted a new memory. Then you were going to be sold. You wouldn't even know."

"Sold to whom?" I mumbled.

"Who knows? A rich Arab, maybe some old fat guy with loads of money, you wouldn't know any different anyway. They would give you a memory that you wouldn't even question, all they wanted was a slut with big tits. Oh by the way, how do you like your new tits?" he said with a grin.

"You bastard, you mean I have been made to order? Someone wanted a girl with big tits, and that is why they did this?"

"Yeah and how do your nipples feel? They injected them with a gel that keeps them hard. What's it like being stared at wherever you go? You didn't even notice your lips either; they have injected stuff into them to make them fuller."

I could hear his little cries of pain as I wriggled the plastic cock around for a minute or two.

"You're not going to leave me like this?"

"Of course I am," I replied 20 minutes later, as I stood fully dressed. 

"OK bitch, but they will find you and take you back. Then I'll have some real fun with you. By the way those pills in your system will have increased your sex drive permanently by now. If you do get back to your husband he won't believe what a slut you are now."

I watched his face drop as I grabbed the strap on and started ramming it in and out of his ass with both hands.

Finally after some time my aching arms gave up. He was sobbing into the pillow, as I walked to the door and looked back at him. He looked over his shoulder with sweat and tears streaming down his face. I sat down stairs for a while, just trying to get my head around everything. To think I actually felt sorry for him because I had supposedly tried to kill him! OK they were clever getting me to think that, but there wasn't much stopping me from killing him now! When I went back upstairs the bed was empty. The rails on the headboard had been pulled off. I raced down stairs and heard him grunting as he chased after me. I heard him slip, and I turned to see him falling to the bottom of the stairs. I just turned and ran out of the house. When I turned back he was crawling with his phone pressed to his ear. I jumped as Andy's big truck screeched to a halt just past the house.

"I nearly hit you then," he snapped out of the window.

"Andy I need a lift to the station," I panted.

I looked back to the house, the front door was shut and I couldn't see Harry. 

"Look the road is blocked on the way to the station too. Just sit tight and wait, in a few days it'll stop, and in a week or so the road will be open."

"Fucking hell, won't this thing get round it? Please Andy I, I'm desperate."

"Oh and just how desperate are you?"

I looked past Andy to the grinning Thomas. I hadn't seen him in the back due to the blacked out windows. I looked back at the house again, panic filled my head. I knew what Thomas wanted, and now Andy had the same sick grin as his father!

"I promise when I come back. Wait!" I screeched, as Andy pulled away.

So there I was sandwiched between the two of them on the front seat. Both men had their hands between my legs. My yellow thigh length dress was pushed up over my black stocking tops, and a finger from each of them wriggled in my pussy! I just sat there with my eyes closed knowing I'd soon be with my husband, and this nightmare would finally be over. Of course I hadn't reckoned on two soft hands going down the front of my dress and tugging my nipples from behind! I shrieked and jumped.

"You're a pretty little thing aren't you dear?"

I stiffened as jet back hair fell over my shoulder, and plump lips kissed my neck!

"This is my sister Judith," Thomas said with a smile. 

"She's everything you said she was, so very pretty," Judith mumbled in my ear.

We went through the village, with me being molested by the 3 of them. Eventually I was left alone as Thomas told us to buckle up our seat belts.

"When we get to the other side of the mud slide stop at the old barn, somebody's pussy needs eating," Judith purred in my ear.

"You're not eating my bloody pussy!" I growled.

"No, you are eating mine dear," she said with a laugh.

I sat there cringing as the truck slipped and slid over the mud. Andy fought with the wheel, but eventually we made it to safety. My heart sank as he pulled off the road and drove to an old barn. 

"Look, wait until I get back. We could have a party at my house, please, please," I repeated, as they dragged me to the barn. 

It was now I saw Judith for the first time. She was a little overweight and I guess in her late 40s. I stood there as the two men undressed me. She just devoured me with her eyes. She sat on a bale of hay and pulled her skirt up her bare plump legs. She spread her legs and I gulped at a thick mat of black hair. She had that same sick grin that the rest of her family wore. She crooked her finger and then pointed to her pussy.

"Please, I'll miss my train," I mumbled with a gulp.

"40 minutes until the next one is due," Thomas said with a grunt.

There I was on my knees crawling towards Judith's glistening pussy. She spread her plump thighs further apart. I was inches from her now, smelling her musky aroma.

"She's as wet as fuck!" Thomas said with surprise.

"Oh and there you are, pretending to be all shy of Aunt Judith," she said, as she opened herself up with her fingers. 

I trembled as my head went between her knees. It was like some strange space docking thing I had watched on the telly last week. Only this was my poor face on this gross women's pussy! What didn't help was Thomas pushing a couple of fingers in me at the same time. Yes I was wet, yes I was groaning a little, but it had to be the pills making me that way. Even so, the black haired pussy I was now inches away from, still didn't appeal to me! I heard her sigh with expectation as my face pressed slowly against her. My tongue flicked out and I tasted her.

"Oh dear, OH DEAR!" she gasped excitedly.

I felt Thomas push into me. He thrust forward and sent me further into the gushing black hole. 

"You fuck her good and hard Thomas, especially if you want a chocolate treat tonight," Judith breathed excitedly.

Judith groaned as Thomas sent a hard jab into my pussy. My face was now buried into her wet opening. I don't quite know why I was sticking my tongue in her so far. I don't know why I bucked back each time Thomas shoved forward. All I was worried about was making it to the station. 

"My clit dear, suck my clit," Judith whimpered after a few minutes.

I found her hard button and sucked it in; at the same time I flicked my tongue quickly over it. She had now clamped her fleshy thighs round my face. My nose was pressed into her curly black hair and she began to scream. Her thighs shuddered and she gripped me even tighter! Thomas too was now deep in my pussy, and spitting out about the whore he was impaled on! So there was Judith having a very verbal orgasm, Thomas was firing deep into me too, and I was shuddering as my pussy joined in too! I felt my juiced face being lifted up by Judith. My eyes were closed and my mouth trembled.

"Oh you sweet dear, go on enjoy it," Judith said with glee, as my orgasm just wouldn't stop.

I was still in a daze as Judith pulled me on top of her on the bale of hay. She started kissing me and forcing her tongue in my mouth. Her whole mouth seemed to cover mine. She held me tighter in a vice like grip, as I felt something nudge my asshole! We looked into each others eyes. Mine were wide open with fright; her eyes were wide open with delight. 

"Oh god she's tight dad," Andy grunted through gritted teeth.

Judith let off the kiss and I gasped for air and then with shock.

"Now you go gently young Andy. I bet her ass isn't as stretched as mine," she grinned and looked up at my face, "is it dear?"

Judith wriggled down a little and then I felt her wet lips on my nipple. She groaned as she sucked as I gave little yelps. Andy was stretching my ass with his hard cock. I closed my eyes as I remembered running from the video Harry had put on. As soon as I saw my grinning face take a cock in my ass I couldn't stand it. I remember seeing myself on the video, watching over my shoulder as the guy pushed in my ass. 

"You did lube up didn't you Andrew?" Judith asked from below me.

"Yeah, I used some of dad's spunk," he retorted.

Judith went back to sending little shock waves through my nipple, as Andy sent big shock waves through my ass!

"Hey I bet the old man would love to see this!" Thomas said with a chuckle.

I felt Andy shove and he slipped right into me. It took my breath away, but, for some reason it didn't hurt as much as I expected. Maybe I had taken more up my ass than the one on the video? Judith was now crawling back out from under me. Then I caught her staring at my face looking quite surprised.

"Well dear, I must say you seem to be doing extremely well. You're not a little virgin up there are you?"

I could see the delight spread across her face. 

"Oh you fucking bitch!" I screamed, and then I plunged my mouth on hers.

Andy was riding me harder now. I just kept my tongue deep in Judith's mouth covering her little squeals of pain. She was trying to push me off and her face looked frightened. I don't think either of the men knew I was hurting her. My hand was in her blouse twisting her fat nipple, as Andy started to shove faster. Well if I had to suffer, then so should she! I waved Thomas over. He had been pumping his cock, and he grinned at me as he fed it into my mouth. I suck, I kissed, and then I bit! He fell over holding his groin as I spat out the blood. My hand went between my legs and I grabbed Andy's balls. I twisted, and I twisted until he shrieked and stopped pumping his cock in me. 

"Get the fuck out of my ass!" I yelled.

Andy pulled back and collapsed on his knees. I quickly pulled my dress back on and rushed out of the barn. I could hear them moaning and groaning with pain. Soon they were out of ear shot, and I could see the station a few hundred yards away. I just managed to make the train as got into the station. I stood in the corridor trying to figure out what to do next. My heart was thumping like mad; somewhere on this train was my husband. I felt elated and so happy. Until I realised Harry must have been in touch with whoever was coming to get me. I stood shaking and shuddering, maybe I should get off the train and get to the police, but I remembered what the detective had said, trust nobody. I looked back on the station and saw a blonde man asking the station master something.

"My husband," I mumbled to myself, wiping away tears of joy. 

I went to get off the train, but as I did there was a second man looking around. I pressed myself back out of sight. My hands shook and my heart thumped. So there were two blonde men, one my husband, and the other, possibly from the company. The station master pointed back to the train. I ran to the middle of the compartment. 

"Christine!"

My heart leapt as I turned to face the blonde man stood at the end.




Amnesia Ch. 10



Chapter 10 - Epilogue

Tony leaned back and rested his head against the plaster wall of the almost empty room. He was thinking. He had plenty of time to think. At least as much as three years to think. Ralph Cummings would be arriving soon, and it would be back to work. Work on the story of his "life," if that's what you could call it. Ralph was a god-send, actually. 

Tony had been wavering between despair and frustration for the past three months. Three months since the sentencing. Three months away from Nina and his family. Three months away from his new friends who had helped him so unselfishly. How would he explain it to them? He was having trouble explaining it to himself. In truth, he was bitterly disappointed in himself.

The door to the sparsely furnished room opened and a uniformed guard entered.

"Mr. Cummings is on his way."

"Thank you." At least it would be something to help him straighten out his mind. The damaged memory with little pieces still missing. The exercise of reciting his past life was a different kind of therapy, but it was a therapy.

A few seconds later, Ralph Cummings walked into the room, closing the door behind him. They were not alone. A pair of CCTV cameras watched constantly.

"Good morning, Tony. How are you today?"

"I'm OK, thanks Ralph. Good to see you again."

Cummings placed a spiral-bound notebook and a small recorder on the table in front of them and sat down.

"I can't imagine how difficult it is to get used to being here, Tony. I want to talk about that later, but not right now. I guess you can be grateful it's a minimum security institution."

"Yeah ... grateful," Tony said with a rueful smile. 

"OK ... let's get going again. I've done up the notes from our last meeting and I had a couple of points I wanted to clarify.

"You said you had figured out that at least two of the partners were taking funds from some of the investor accounts. How did you latch onto the third ... Mahon I think it was?"

And so it began again, Tony recounting what he could recall from the months leading up to reporting his discovery to Stanton Mellows. It was a tedious, detail filled accounting of the fraud perpetrated by the three Vice Presidents. Then the reluctant acknowledgement by Mellows, and finally his meeting with Carter Woolman at the S.E.C. office. 

This was the third meeting of the two men. It had been difficult to engineer. The Department of Justice cited the prohibition against profiting from crime. Picardo Publishing's lawyer had argued successfully that any new information about the crime could be documented and handed over to the FBI. They would have complete access to all Cummings' notes. 

The monies promised in the advance had been frozen by the court, subject to a small living allowance for Nina and the children. The balance would be unavailable until the conclusion of his sentence. Ultimately, it would pay his legal fees and still leave Nina and the children enough to get by on. Then what?

The look on her face when they arrested him was haunting him constantly. The horror and fear mixed in her reaction was palpable. Worse yet, he had let her down again. She was going to suffer through his humiliation, even as she chose to stay with him. 

But there was something more frustrating. He had no memory of committing the crime. He was accused of stealing something close to ten million dollars and he had no recollection of doing any such thing. The trail, according to Van Hoote, led directly to him, although he had covered his tracks cleverly, making it appear to have been the others who took the money.

His lawyer, Nolan Matthews, had gone over the evidence with another accounting expert, and had come to the conclusion that the evidence was indeed solid and that Tony's best defence was to plead guilty with mitigating circumstances. He would make full restitution, since none of the money had been spent. He couldn't prove he didn't remember the act or where the money was, but it made no difference to the court in which life Tony Milano committed the crime. The court did, however, take into account his cooperation with the FBI and his testimony on their behalf.

Nolan was Major Tom Matthews' brother, an adept criminal defense lawyer with an impressive record. Tom had stood by Tony and had prevailed upon his brother to assist his new friend. Whatever the investment broker might have been in his past life, he was something entirely different today. 

His sentence, three to five years in a minimum security facility, was considered light in comparison to the heavy sentences Mahon, Blyer, and Stainsby had received. They would be the guests of the Federal Penitentiary system for at least twenty years. Blyer and Mahon were at least fortunate enough to rate medium security. Stainsby, due to his involvement in the attempted murder of Tony, was sentenced to twenty-five to life in maximum security. It was unlikely he would ever leave prison.

Stanton Mellows never faced trial. He died of a heart attack three weeks before his court date. Tony almost felt sorry for the old man. The look of him on the floor of Amnesia! after his aborted attack was enough of a memory for Tony. 

But Tony could only regret that he too would have to serve his sentence. He had come to believe that he was guilty even without the recollection. The prison psychiatrist suggested it was a repressed memory as opposed to amnesia. Something Tony would rather not remember because it conflicted with his new personality and his new life. There was a certain logic to that, Tony felt.

He finished the session with Ralph Cummings and returned to his room. As prisons go, FCI Candlehurst wasn't that bad. Most of the inmates were white-collar criminals, druggies, and the odd sex offender. They were considered non-violent and likely candidates for rehabilitation. It could have been worse, Tony thought. 

He had applied to work in the prison kitchen, but there were no current openings. He had made it known to Asst. Warden Kettleworth that he was a qualified cook. It made no difference. Until his number came up, he would be assigned to other work-related projects. He was currently in the laundry, one of the easier but more boring assignments. He had to once again prepare himself for the menial tasks just as he had when he began as a dishwasher at Mr. Leung's restaurant. 

Nina would be coming Saturday, as she had promised. That was one thing he could look forward to. The distance prevented her from being there more than once or twice a month, but he was grateful for any time he could spend with her. Federal prisons did not permit conjugal visits. It would be a long, lonely time for both of them.

As he walked back to his room, he thought about his fate. If there was one bright spot in the whole sordid mess, it was the loyalty of his family and friends. Not a single one of them had abandoned him. They were almost unwilling to accept his guilt; even when the evidence said he surely was. Even Martin Polikoff, the supposedly hardened NYPD detective, had stuck by him. 

But it was Nina that meant the most to him right now. She would be waiting for him whenever he was released. She was not going anywhere without him. When they said their vows and the part "for better or worse" was uttered, she truly meant it. Every word of it. If there was nothing else to motivate him, that would be sufficient.

Amnesia! was running well with Muriel and Erik at the helm in the kitchen. The new restaurant had been put on hold until Tony was released and could reassess the viability. The sale of the two properties in Westport and Nantucket had provided more than enough to secure the townhouse in the Bronx. Nina was sheltered from the liability of his crime. She and the children would be able to cope financially during his incarceration. It was the best he could hope for.

It seemed like an eternity until Saturday afternoon when Nina arrived. It was a five hour drive from the Bronx and she would be exhausted. Their two hours together would be the one bright spot in the next two to three weeks for both of them. Tony found himself pacing the floor in his room until her arrival was announced.

"Hello, my love," Nina smiled as she sat across the table from him. There would be no touching other than briefly holding hands, but even that small gesture had become precious to them. 

"It's so good to see you again, Nina. Thank you for coming. I know how long it takes. I know it must be very hard on you."

"My only worry is when winter comes and I won't be able to get here easily."

"I know. Don't worry about that now, Nina. How are the children?"

"They're fine. But they are determined to come and visit you. Please, Tony, please let me bring them to visit you. They love you and they want to see you."

"You know how I feel about that, Nina. I don't want our children to see their father in prison wearing prison clothes. I don't think I can handle that ... much less them."

"Tony ... they love you. They know where you are and why you are here. They want to see their father. Please allow them to visit at least once. Please, Tony."

He bowed his head in thought. Would it be wrong? Would it harm them? He couldn't make up his mind.

"I'll think about it, Nina. That's all I can promise."

She nodded and smiled. It was a step forward. Until now he had steadfastly refused to allow the children to visit.

For the rest of their time together they spent it talking about their friends and Nina's life in the city. Mama Novak was being a guardian angel and sister Magda was constantly with her for support. She never felt abandoned until night, when lying in her bed she longed for her Tony. The tears were ever present as she steeled herself to survive the next three years. 

When Nina left to return to the city, Tony felt that pang of emptiness that just wouldn't go away. She had become so important to him in this past year. With too much time to contemplate his life then and now, he desperately needed her to help keep him sane. She was his reason for living. She was more important now than at any time in their married life. 

The late fall and winter came and went. Luckily, the weather always seemed to cooperate with Nina's planned visits. She seldom had to delay her trip for more than a day due to snow or freezing rain. Just before Christmas, Tony had relented and allowed Nina to bring Jared and Nadia to visit. He had also added Ben to the approved family visitors list. It was only a two hour drive for Ben from Cornell.

The first meetin between Tony and his oldest son was awkward. They had seen little of each other since Ben began living on campus. The boy had left home before his seventeenth birthday to further his aspirations. He was determined to obtain a degree in Alternate Energy Engineering. He had won an academic scholarship in his final year of high school and chose Cornell because of its Ivy League reputation and the curriculum.

Nina described Ben as nineteen going on thirty. He had matured at a very young age and was virtually self-sufficient at age sixteen. At a shade under six feet, he was a sturdier build than his father; more like his grandfather Janos. Dark brown hair and eyes, his handsome features should have attracted the girls in droves. He hardly noticed, such was his drive to succeed. Like father, like son. 

But there had been a price to pay. The separation, summer jobs in distant places, and the remoteness of his father had all made him less family orientated. Nina and Tony knew he loved his family, but like his father was at that time, he had difficulty showing it. He almost seemed embarrassed by displays of affection by any of the family members, particularly Gramma Novak.

So, it was quite a surprise to Tony when Ben was announced as a visitor one Thursday afternoon in March. 

"Hi, Dad," Ben smiled as he sat in the chair opposite his father.

"Hi, Ben. Good to see you. This is a pleasant surprise."

"Mom told me you changed your mind and would let us come and see you."

"Yeah ... I guess I was being unfair ... selfish. She made me understand that it should be your choice."

Ben nodded. "You know we don't really think you should be here, don't you?"

"Yeah. But here I am ... and ... well ... the evidence says I did it ... so ...."

"This place doesn't look too bad, Dad. Not like those prisons you see on the TV shows."

"No ... it's minimum security, so there's a bit more freedom. A bit more privacy. But ... it's still a prison."

"What are you going to do when you get out? Are you going back to Amnesia?"

"I don't know, Ben. I don't know if they'll want me or need me. I may have to go out on my own. Start my own restaurant. I guess there's time enough to think about that."

"You know they'll want you Dad. Mom says Muriel will retire soon. Eric can handle his own kitchen now, so he'll probably move on. I don't think you'll have to worry about Mr. Leung. Mom says he asks about you every time she comes back from visiting you. I don't think you have anything to worry about," Ben said confidently.

"You seem to be keeping up on the goings-on at home pretty well. I gather your mother is keeping you informed?"

"Yeah. We all want you back, Dad. This is wrong. I can't believe you did what they say you did. It just isn't you. It doesn't fit. But ... whatever ... we just want you back home."

Tony looked at his son and smiled. It seemed to him that they were closer now than when he left for Cornell. He had ambition and drive and intelligence. Now, it seemed he was gaining maturity in his relationship with his family. He was a son to be proud of.

Ben left at the end of the permitted visiting hours, promising to return as soon as he could find time. Tony thanked him for making the effort. It was an opportunity for him to reconnect with his oldest child and now wondered why he was so reluctant to allow the meeting. That had been a mistake he wouldn't repeat.

One month later, Asst. Warden Kettleworth sent for him. He was to be allowed to transfer to the kitchen if he still wanted to. Tony jumped at the chance. It didn't turn out quite as he expected, but at least he was in an environment he could influence. 

In a way, the kitchen was something like Mr. Leung's at the Bamboo Terrace. Formula food prepared in large batches and dished out in controlled portions. When Tony looked at the menu, he saw a carefully balanced diet spread over seven days. If it was Friday, it would be sole, or cod, or occasionally, halibut. The preparation, however, lacked imagination. The meals were bland and to most people's taste, boring. Tony wondered if there was anything that could be done about it.

After three weeks, Tony realized something else. Something that was a good deal more disturbing. It would appear that the produce and meat suppliers were sending in less-than-retail acceptable product. No grocery store that Tony knew of would accept some of the produce and meat cuts that he saw arriving. It caused him to wonder. Was this what the contract called for, or was it someone thinking it was a way to cut costs.

He had thought about discussing it with some of the senior inmate cooks, but decided against it. No good would come of stirring up trouble among his fellow prisoners. He had already established that they were no happier with the quality of foodstuffs being sent in every two to three days. 

The waste in fresh fruit and vegetables was appalling to Tony. He would have been out of business in a month if he had run Amnesia! this way. The question was what to do about it? The last thing he wanted to do was to cause trouble that might prevent him from gaining his early release. It would be easy to just ignore the problem and carry on. But it didn't sit well. 

He took a week to mull over his options. Finally, summoning his courage, he asked for an appointment to talk to Warden Kettleworth. 

"What do you want to talk about, Mr. Milano," the assistant warden asked in a curt voice.

"It's about the kitchen, Ma'am. I was curious about whether the contract for the food service was a public document?"

"Yes ... this is a federal institution. The contract is available for viewing. Why do you ask?"

"Uhhhmmm ... as you may know, I ran a restaurant kitchen myself, Ma'am. I was responsible for purchasing all the food. I have a pretty good idea of what represents fair quality and fair prices. I was curious what the contract for Candlehurst specifies," he said carefully.

The eyebrows on the middle-aged woman rose and he cheeks colored.

"Are you suggesting there are problems with our suppliers? Something irregular going on?" She had a demanding tone and Tony worried that he had stepped over the line.

"No ... no ... of course not," he scrambled. He paused for a moment before regaining his courage. "Ma'amm ... there is a lot of waste in the product we are bringing in. For every ten pounds of unpeeled potatoes that we are buying, we are only getting six pounds of acceptable product. It may be that we are buying a lower grade to keep costs in line with a budget. That's what I was curious about."

"Just potatoes?" she asked, now curious.

"No, Ma'am. Meat cuts with too much bone and fat. Fresh fruit that is past its best. Not every product or every shipment, mind you, but enough that I think we are not getting fair value if we are paying for retail quality foods."

The woman sat, looking intently at Tony. Tony looked directly at her, not daring to flinch or turn away.

"Wait here for a moment, Mr. Milano." She rose and walked to file cabinet in a small alcove. She opened the top drawer and after a few seconds, pulled out a manila folder. She tucked it under her arm and then bent to a lower cabinet, opened it and again, withdrew another manila folder. She brought them back to her desk and sat down again.

She opened the top folder and looked it over for a minute or so. Her head rose then as she looked at him.

"It says here you were the cook at a tavern restaurant in New York City. Is that the place you were referring to?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Tony said relieved. "It was called Amnesia! ... after what happened to me."

"I see. And you purchased all the food supplies for this restaurant?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"What do you want to know, Mr. Milano?"

"I'd like to compare the contract for Candlehurst with my former suppliers and see how they stack up. I can do that on-line without any cost to the prison," he said quickly. 

"Why?"

"Ma'am, the waste is excessive and I believe that if the institution has been buying lower grades to save money, that any savings are lost in that waste." 

"And you can prove this how?" she asked skeptically.

"We know what the yield is for most products we purchase here. Our cooks know that because that's how they know how much to order and how often. I know what my yields were in the restaurant. I had to for the same reason. How much to buy and how often. It wouldn't take much to compare the number and work out what the dollar difference was. I could do that on my own time, of course," he hastened to add.

"Of course," she said with the faintest hint of a smile. She sat for a minute, her eyes shifting from Tony to the second file folder. Finally, she extracted two pages from the folder and pushed them across to Tony.

"The top page is the contract summary for produce and the other is for the meat purveyor. Is there enough information on that to make your comparison?" she asked.

Tony looked over the two documents. "Uh ... no, Ma'am. This just says they agree to supply FDA approved produce and meats and that the prices will reflect current market prices, adjusted monthly. It doesn't spell out the quality standards or the individual costs." Tony lapsed into silence, waiting for the woman's response.




Amnesia Ch. 10



She leaned back, tapping her chin with her forefinger, not focusing on Tony. At length, she reopened the folder and began searching through several different sheets. It took her a couple of minutes, but she found what she was looking for.

"Here are the quality guidelines for the produce. Why don't you look at these and tell me what you think," she suggested.

Tony took the sheet from her and began to read. It took him more than a couple of minutes to read and digest the information, but when he was done, he sighed and passed the document back to Warden Kettleworth.

"Well?" she asked, her eyebrow cocked.

"We aren't getting what we are supposed to get," he said. "The contract calls for Grade A, what I would refer to as retail quality. That is, the same quality you would expect to find in a large grocery store. What we're getting some of the time is stuff they wouldn't put on their shelves."

"How often is this happening?"

"I haven't documented it, but every shipment seems to contain some items that don't meet the standard. So, it's happening on most deliveries, but not with every product."

"I see." See sat quietly, absorbing what he had told her. "You said you could calculate the extra cost in waste."

"Yes, Ma'am. It wouldn't be easy, but ... yes. I could do that."

"Very well, Mr. Milano. You may have uncovered a corrupt supplier. Or it may just be someone not paying attention to the contract. Let's get our ducks in a row first. Then we can address the issue with our suppliers."

"Yes, Ma'am. With your permission, I'll get started on the cost comparisons. I'll get current costs on ten items that I know we purchase here and you can compare them to the invoice costs. Based on that, we should be able to calculate the cost of waste."

"Good. You have privileges on the internet with my permission. When you need to use it, let me know and I'll arrange it. In the meantime, please don't discuss this with any other inmate or any of the staff."

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you for listening to me," he said, turning to leave.

"Mr. Milano," she called as his hand reached the door knob. "Thank you. I know that took some courage." She had that small smile that made Tony feel the risk had been worth it.

It took Tony two days to gather the information he needed from his former suppliers in New York. He gave no explanation for wanting it and none was asked for. In the meantime, he had begun to calculate waste on the ten selected products; seven produce items and three meat items. He had ignored the fish supplier since they did not seem to demonstrate the same problems. Their product was invariably fresh, properly cleaned, and well presented.

By the end of the week, Tony had the data he wanted. The formula for calculating the costs was in place and all Warden Kettleworth needed to do was to fill in the blanks. He contacted her and indicated he had the information they had agreed upon and she quickly agreed to see him.

As Tony stood before her desk, he passed her the paper he had prepared and was about to show her where to input her costs.

"Have a seat, Mr. Milano," she said pleasantly.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"This looks very comprehensive. I assume I can fill in our costs and use the formula to calculate the difference?" she asked, looking up from his work.

"Yes, Ma'am."

She continued to review the paper and Tony could see her eyes begin to widen as she read further.

"Are you certain of these waste figures?" she asked, her forehead wrinkled in concern.

"Yes, Ma'am. They are the exact figures by weight for the entire week, by item."

"How in the world did you manage that?" 

"Not without some messy after-hours work," he smiled.

She shook her head, looking back at the figures on the page.

"I had no idea that our waste was this high. Did the other kitchen staff know about this?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm sure they would have said something, but ...." He left his comment unfinished.

"Yes ... I can guess ... no good deed goes unpunished," she murmured. "Thank you again, Mr. Milano. I'd like to review these figures and discuss them with my superior. I'll get back to you." She smiled and stood as Tony rose to leave.

The next morning, Tony was summoned to the assistant warden's office once again.

"Good morning, Ma'am," he said as he entered. 

"Have a seat, Mr. Milano. Warden Meyers will be joining us shortly," she said with a level voice.

Tony felt a nervous jolt go through him. The Warden was a notoriously tough character, despite the low-key nature of the institution. Many of the inmates thought he was better placed in a maximum security facility where he could use his hard-nosed attitude to effect. Tony had never met the man.

A minute later, the office door opened and the tall, lean, mid-fifties warden entered, acknowledging Ms. Kettleworth and then looking at Tony with a stern gaze.

"So ... are you the guy who's stirred up this business about the food supply?"

"Yes, Sir," Tony answered promptly.

"Hummphf," he snorted, sitting on the edge of Kettleworth's desk. "Warden Kettleworth says you've uncovered quite a little racket here."

"I'm not sure about that, Sir. I'm just reporting that I think we can do better. Save some money," Tony said carefully.

"Hummphf," the man replied. "Looks like something more than that to me."

Tony remained mute. He had learned early on that you spoke only when spoken to and answered only when questions were asked. There was a routine formality that had to be followed and Tony was mindful to follow it to the letter.

"I've given Warden Kettleworth the assignment to follow this up. She will choose who works with her. I think you can assume you will be on her team," the man said, this time with a faint grin.

"Thank you, Sir."

"No ... thank you, Mr. Milano. It shouldn't be any surprise that this institution is under a great deal of pressure to reduce or at least maintain our costs. It's been a real struggle and no one wants to curtail programs because we haven't got the funds to continue with them. If Warden Kettleworth's calculations are correct, there are over one hundred thousand dollars that might be saved annually. That's big to us." He was nodding as he finished his comments.

Tony remained silent. The warden slipped off the desk and walked toward him, extending his hand. Surprised, Tony stood and took it. The warden's handshake was firm and brief.

"Thank you again, Mr. Milano. I'm sure I'll be seeing you in the future." With that he nodded to Kettleworth and left the office.

Tony blinked in surprise. He stood beside his chair, assuming he was dismissed, but again, the assistant warden motioned him to sit.

"Mr. Milano, we're going to void the contract of our two problem suppliers. We can't really do that until we have secured alternative sources. I would like you to lead the team that will vette our potential suppliers. You know what standards are required and you can determine their ability to supply to those standards. Do you agree to assist?"

"Yes, of course Ma'am. Thank you for the opportunity."

"You've earned it. I'd also like to discuss the menu with you at some point. As a chef, I'm hoping you can help us vary the menu without losing sight of the need for healthy meals."

Tony smiled. "I'd be delighted to do that, Ma'am. I'm sure several of the other cooks would like to participate as well."

"No doubt ... but you know what they say about too many cooks," she smiled.

Within a week, Tony was meeting with three potential produce suppliers and two meat suppliers. All of them were established companies, some of whom Tony had done business with. He was confident that their quotes would be competitive. The prices in New York City were high because of the high costs of doing business there. They should be noticeably lower out here in the western part of the state, with some allowance for additional delivery costs.

A week later, he had the five assembled bids and was reviewing them prior to discussing them with Warden Kettleworth. His committee had consisted of two other cooks and a third inmate who had been an accountant in his former life. The four of them reviewed the quotes and discussed the likely best option for the institution. At first they were wary of committing to the project, but as they became familiar with Tony and his background, they involved themselves completely.

It took only a day for the four men to come up with a proposal and the potential cost savings. They continued to use Tony's formula with confidence that the numbers would stand up. In fact, the two cooks wondered if his numbers weren't too conservative. The accountant laughed and slapped Tony on the back. He suggested coming in with better numbers than planned was always easier to explain.

The committee met with Assistant Warden Dorathea Kettleworth and laid out their proposal. All of the bids were close, with no clear-cut winner on cost. However, there were some benefits with one supplier who had a regularly scheduled daily run that went past the prison. It would mean they could reduce their order sizes and increase the frequency with no added cost to the supplier. They would place a weekly bulk order to help the supplier plan, and then take daily or alternate day deliveries as required. It gave them flexibility and reduced the amount of perishables on site.

The meat purveyor was a different challenge. Since there was no qualified butcher in the kitchen, they would need portion cut meats. That was more costly, but hopefully, the waste of meat with no bone and little fat would offset the price. It was a gamble that would require a trial period to evaluate the system. 

Tony was able to get unanimous agreement for the choices from his committee. It made the meeting with the warden much easier. 

"So, are we ready to make the change?" Kettleworth asked.

"Yes, Ma'am. May I suggest you inform our current suppliers that you are terminating their contract for cause, and that no further deliveries beyond the next day are required. We have the commitment from our chosen suppliers that if they are given the contract they can begin delivery within forty-eight hours."

"Excellent. I'll take care of the notification this afternoon. Well done, gentlemen." She looked generally pleased and the four men felt rewarded for their efforts. As they filed out of the office, more than one of them congratulated Tony on the meeting.

When it came time to discuss the menu, Tony made a request to have the other cooks included in the discussion. He suggested that it was important that they have a say in what we wanted to accomplish since they would have to execute the plan. Kettleworth agreed and meetings were set up to discuss a new menu.

If there was such a thing as positive celebrity among a prison population, Tony achieved it. The improvement in the food quality wasn't just seen in the kitchen, but in the dining hall as well. Since the same food was used for the staff, it was noticed there too. When the menu began to change, it was as if a whole new kitchen had appeared.

It took a month to establish the new items, but each and every one of them was greeted with enthusiasm by the inmates and staff. Formerly overcooked steamed vegetables became lightly steamed or grilled items. One cook introduced Italian night, and each month he would prepare a traditional Italian entrée. Tony chose to introduce Chinese night, using his experience in Mr. Leung's kitchen. Another cook worked on Fruits of the Sea Friday, featuring fish entrées, while the fourth cook called his contribution "Specials Night." 

By the end of the first three months, the kitchen had logged nearly thirty thousand dollars in savings despite the new menu. The whole venture had given Tony a sense of self-worth that was making his life bearable. He was back in his element ... being a cook.

Nina saw the change first. It was almost with relief that she noticed his upbeat demeanor and she was delighted that he had been given the chance to again do what he loved -- cook. His elevated spirits helped Nina as well. She worried that he would decline in prison and not be the same man when released. She was beginning to think that she shouldn't be concerned. He had some purpose to this temporary life. He could cope.

Tony had been in Candlehurst just over a year when he was advised he had an unannounced visitor. As he entered the visitation room, he stopped abruptly when he saw Agent Dirk Van Hoote sitting at the table. It was Van Hoote who had uncovered the pathway to the hidden ten million that Tony had stolen. Tony wasn't sure just how to react to his unexpected arrival.

"Mr. Milano. Thank you for coming," Van Hoote said in his quiet, understated manner.

"This is a prison, Mr. Van Hoote. We don't get choices," Tony smiled slightly.

The FBI agent nodded his understanding. Once again with a notepad and pen in hand, he seemed nervous.

"What can I do for you?" Tony asked.

"It's more a case of what I can do for you," the little forensic technician responded. "I have to ask you not to mention that I was here today. It could be awkward for me if it was revealed to my superiors."

Tony was surprised and now curious. Just what did this nerdy little man have to say?

"I have no need to tell anyone. But I am curious. Why are you here? I thought the case was closed with my conviction?"

"It was. It is ... sort of. That's why I'm nervous about my people finding out I'm here."

Tony leaned back in his chair. He would wait Van Hoote out. He obviously wanted to say something.

"Mr. Milano ... I have reason to believe that you may be innocent of the crime you were convicted of."

Just like that. The words hit Tony like a linebacker hitting a practice dummy. He was speechless.

"I have been bothered by something I noticed when I did the research and unraveling of the whole fraud and misappropriation scheme. I'm very thorough, Mr. Milano. I am, as my family and friends would tell you, an obsessive-compulsive personality. I don't like loose ends. This case has loose ends. I'm not able to let it go just yet."

"But if the case is closed ...?" Tony suggested.

"Yes. That's precisely the problem. The case is closed. So I have to be careful. I've given this a lot of thought, Mr. Milano. A lot of thought. Let me tell you what I know and what I think I know."

Tony nodded, still reeling from the man's assertion. "Go ahead."

"It boils down to this. I believe someone else set you up to look guilty. I think that because the way the theft was managed was not the same way that the other thefts were done. Whoever took the ten million did it in such a way that it pointed to you, but not obviously."

"Which of them do you think did it?"

"I'm not sure. I do have a question though. Did Stanton Mellows have the capability of making trades on his own?"

"Huh! I'm not sure, but I think he did. I mean, he was the president, so he certainly had access. If he was in on it with the others, they could have helped him," Tony said thoughtfully.

"Would anyone else have access to your computer?"

"No ... or at least ... not that I know of. Again, Mellows could have gotten an authorization when I went missing. The other three couldn't without his OK, though."

Van Hoote looked down at his note pad, lost in thought. He made a couple of scribbled notes and then looked up.

"There is still one possibility. The computer will record when the transactions were made, even if the documents show a different dating. You can't easily alter that. You might request your and Mellow's computer be examined for transaction dating. A good analyst could verify if the deep dating on the hard drive agreed with the surface dating on that document. That would tell you if there was any back-dating. You couldn't have made any transactions when you were in the hospital."

Tony sat, thinking of what the implications were. "Mr. Van Hoote, if you were subpoenaed, would you be allowed to testify?"

"Yes ... the case is closed, but I would have to honor the subpoena."

Tony sat back, again deep in thought.

"Why wasn't this checked before? Why now?" 

"You had pleaded guilty and the money had been traced and recovered. End of story."

"Why would Mellows try and set me up?" 

"Don't know. And we probably never will. Dead men don't talk," the little man smirked.

"So what do I do now?" Tony asked.

"Well, I'm not the one to tell you this, but if you contact your lawyer and ask him to investigate how they might obtain the records of transaction on both the trades and the computer, it might give you the answer you're looking for."

"Yeah. That's definitely worth a try. I'll get on it right away. Thanks, man. This may be something really big for me."

"Just don't mention I was talking to you. I don't need any more problems at work," he said sullenly.

Tony looked at him for a moment. "Does your partner know you're here?"

Van Hoote smiled. "Not officially."

"Does she know what you suspect?"

"I'd rather not say."

Tony smiled. Van Hoote was sticking his neck out on Tony's behalf without much back-up. That took guts. It was the last thing he expected from the bookish little man. 

"Thank you again, agent Van Hoote. I appreciate you taking this risk on my behalf. I'll let you know how it works out."

"I won't be happy until I figure out just what did happen. However, I'm pretty sure that someone other than you moved the ten million. I hope I'm right. Goodbye."

And with that, he walked out of the visitation room. Tony wandered back to his room, his mind reeling as he thought of the implications of Van Hoote's supposition. He was taking a huge risk. He wasn't authorized to visit Tony. His case was supposedly closed. The bad guy was in prison. He wondered just how much Van Hoote's partner, Bilecki, knew about this visit. He hoped she was covering for him. He deserved at least that.

The next morning, Tony was on the phone to Nolan Matthews.

"Nolan, can you come up to see me. I have just received some very important news and I need your help."

"Yes ... of course, Tony. I'll have to clear a day off, but I think I can arrange that for next week. Will that be soon enough?"

"It will have to be. Make sure you're here early enough so that we can spend some time. This is going to take some explanation."

"Fine, Tony. I'll let you know which day."

It was Wednesday, and Tony paced in his room before going to the kitchen for his regularly scheduled shift. He was trying to remember every single word Van Hoote had said to him on his visit. It would be important for Nolan to obtain the computers and the documents that would be on file. It was crucial to his opportunity.

He argued with himself over and over again whether to tell Nina. In the end, the answer was always the same; he would not. He didn't want to get her hopes up and then have them dashed if he couldn't get the evidence needed to gain his freedom. Worse, he still had no recollection of pieces of the time when the theft was taking place. He could contribute nothing to his own defense. 

Nolan Matthews was right on time and anxious to find out what was so important. Tony methodically laid out the information Van Hoote had given him. He explained the forensic agent's suspicions and the path that might lead to their proving one way or another if Tony was innocent.

Nolan listened carefully, making notes frequently. He didn't seem to have any problem following the logic, but he was lost in thought when Tony finally finished.

"So, Nolan. What can we do to get this information?"

Nolan looked up at Tony and nodded. "I think I know how to go about this. I'll have copies in my files of the evidence used to convict you of the crime. Those records are dated and have been accepted as authentic. So the trick is, I need a reason to obtain the logs on Stanton Mellow's computer as well as yours, and I think I know how to do that."




Amnesia Ch. 10



"OK, Nolan. Don't tease me. Tell me what you think," Tony said in a serious tone.

"I need a reason to subpoena agent Van Hoote. A sworn statement from him will reveal his belief that the computer may hold contradictory evidence of the dating on the documents. That's the key to this whole opportunity."

"Do you know any 'friendly judges' that would give you that subpoena?" Tony asked.

"Hah! Sorry, Tony, there's no such thing as a 'friendly judge.' However, if I can make my case strongly enough, it may cast some doubt on the authenticity of the evidence, and that might be the opening we are looking for. You're going to have to leave this with me for now. I need to think how I can get that subpoena."

They parted with the understanding that Nolan would keep Tony informed of his progress. Nolan made it clear that this was a long-shot at best. It was going to take some time to create a cause to re-open the case. Tony nodded, knowing how long it had taken from the time he was charged until his trial. Nothing happened quickly in the criminal justice system.

It was three weeks before Nolan called Tony.

"I have some news, Tony. I went to visit Elliot Stainsby in prison. I wanted to know if he would talk to me. At first, he didn't want to give me anything, including the time of day. But after a while, he started to talk.

"Stanton Mellows was frightened to death that you would blow the whistle on the firm and he would be disgraced. He went to Stainsby, knowing he was up to his neck in the embezzlement, and asked him to silence you. Stainsby thought he meant killing you, so he decided to find someone to look after you on his own. You know the rest of that scenario. 

"What none of them knew, of course, was that you had tipped off the S.E.C. and they were already under investigation. In a moment of panic, Mellows decided to implicate you to deflect some of the heat from him. He enlisted Stainsby to help him and gave him access to your computer. What Mellows didn't know was that Stainsby had already hired his hit man and you were in hospital when they made the phony transactions.

"Stainsby figured it out later that day, but never said anything to Mellows. If Mellows was the only other person besides you that could access your account files, he would be the fall guy if anything went wrong. Stainsby had it all worked out and he would be in the clear. Unfortunately, thanks to you, he didn't get away with it."

"Jesus, Norm. That's some complicated plot. How are we going to get a subpoena to prove any of this?"

"Easy. I taped the conversation. I'll be playing it for the judge tomorrow morning."

"Can you do that? I mean, tape the conversation and get away with it?"

"Yeah. It's a federal institution and we were in a public place. No expectation of privacy. I can at least get a federal court judge to listen to it, claiming I'm trying to reverse a miscarriage of justice. I'm pretty sure they won't turn me down. It isn't being presented as evidence at trial."

"Whew! I don't know whether to celebrate or not, Norm, but thank you ... thank you very much for your efforts. If nothing else, I'll know we've tried everything we could think of to get at the truth. I still don't remember, so I need to know one way or another just for my own piece of mind."

"Yeah ... I can imagine. Hang tough, Tony. I'll call you as soon as I know something."

Tony returned to his kitchen shift with his mind once again in chaos. Was there a chance? Was there hope? He dared not imagine being proven innocent. And what if he was? He'd heard stories before of innocent men spending years waiting for the appeals to be heard and adjudged. He pushed the commotion to the back burner once again, and began to concentrate on the midday meal.

Norman Matthews worked his charm on Federal Court Judge Ramona Martinez. She was sympathetic to wrongly convicted people, but less sympathetic to money men who used their position to swindle millions of ordinary people out of their savings. However, she was patient enough to listen to the lawyer for Tony Milano. She promised to review the case and its background and get back to Matthews in a week or so.

In fact it was almost two weeks before Judge Martinez called Norman Matthews to tell him of her decision. She was granting the subpoena with a proviso that it would only involve the analysis of the Milano and Mellows computers and the sworn statement of FBI agent Dirk Van Hoote.

On Friday, May 14th, in a conference room at the FBI offices in New York, Norman Matthews, Dirk Van Hoote, and Morris Weismann, legal counsel for the FBI, met to depose agent Van Hoote in the matter of his investigation of the trail of evidence leading to the conviction of Anthony Milano. The meeting took two hours and when completed, Norman thanked the assembled group for their candid and complete cooperation.

Unknown to Weismann, Dirk Van Hoote would be joining Norm and Phil Talbot, a computer analyst, in Norm's office. The purpose of the meeting was to determine the history of Tony Milano's computer on the date when the illegal transactions were to have taken place. 

The analyst had been granted access to the computer by court order and under the supervision of agent Bilecki, he had extracted the critical information on the date that the transaction had supposedly happened. There was no evidence that any such transaction had taken place on that date.

Step two was much more tedious. It was now necessary to determine when the transaction actually had taken place. Since Talbot was not allowed to remove the computer to work on at his own pace, the three spectators were unable to leave him to his work in peace. At least one of them had to be there at all times. It fell to Van Hoote to be the odd man out.

It took nearly four hours for Talbot to find the transaction trail, but when he did, all doubt of Tony's innocence was erased. At the time the log was created, Tony was in day three of his coma in Burnside Private Hospital. He could not possibly have committed the crime.

Norm took the time to thank agents Van Hoote and Bilecki, knowing full well they had risked their careers on a hunch. Nothing would be said, of course. It was a shame, really. They deserved some recognition for their initiative. It would have been easier to just let things go. Case closed. Bad guy in jail. End of story. But they didn't.

Norm now began the laborious and frustrating job of getting Tony out of prison. The procedure was tedious and required the assistance of Judge Martinez to even get the process started. It was now evident that Tony was a wrongly convicted man, but it was never that simple. It had to go through the system and the system took time.

On a clear, frosty December morning, Tony Milano walked out of the confinement area of Candlehurst Federal Corrections Institute and into the arms of Nina, his family, and friends. Among the people in the group were Assistant Warden Dorathea Kettleworth and Warden Fredrick Meyer. They were almost sad to see Tony go, but then, he had left something of himself behind. The cooks in the kitchen had a new standard to live up to.

Tony had been in prison for over nineteen months. It was the longest nineteen months of his life. He had no understanding of the real meaning of freedom until it was denied to him. But more than anything, it was the certain knowledge that he was not a criminal, and he no longer had a criminal record. He was free to be Tony Milano: husband, father, friend, and of course, cook.

He went back to Amnesia! and Muriel promptly retired. She would be a fill-in when needed, but she was ready to live a less hectic life. Tony worked for a few weeks in the old familiar kitchen, but when the opportunity was presented to teach at the local vocational school, he grabbed it. It would mean regular hours and open weekends. He would still be involved in what he loved, but with much less pressure. All plans for the new restaurant were shelved indefinitely.

Magda and Martin married, just as Nina knew they would. It was almost pre-ordained. Martin wanted what Tony had; a beautiful woman with spirit and ambition. Magda was the perfect answer. Magda wanted what Nina had; a loyal and loving husband. She had waited over twenty years for the right man.

Martin's son, David, graduated from City College of Culinary Arts right into a line chef job at an upscale restaurant in the theatre district. He was on his way. Along side was Debbie Simmons, his partner and roommate. They were an inseparable pair.

Ralph Cummings completed his first draft of Tony's now even more remarkable story, and was encouraging him to listen to offers from Hollywood about making a movie based on the book. Tony was reluctant to do anything until he saw the finished book in publication. By all accounts, the only authorized version of the events in the past five years would be a winner; both in the book stores and potentially, as a motion picture.

Mr. Leung sold the Bamboo Terrace to three of his nephews and retired on the proceeds and the income from Amnesia! Carl happily remained as the manager and bartender while Eric was now the head cook. He had married Shanna when she became pregnant. Their new baby girl was named Marion, after the woman that had helped Eric so much when Tony was gone.

Nina's father, Janos, had a heart attack and was now fully retired and living a comfortable life at home. That is, if you can call living with Mama Novak comfortable. Still, they both looked forward to the visits of their family. Mama's special "son" Tony was back once more and she was joyful. They had a bond that could not be broken.

Naturally, Tom and Norm Matthews and their wives were regular guests of the Milano's. Tom's unfailing loyalty and Norm's persistence on Tony's behalf was something to be treasured. 

Nina often remarked at how well their life had turned out, despite all the ups and downs. She was distraught when Tony went missing, and even more so when he was in prison. But in the aftermath of that turmoil, they emerged stronger as a couple. Each knowing the love the other held for them. They had been tested and they were not found wanting.

The End



Amnesia Ch. 10



"Christine, it's me, Jeff."

I was panting hard and I took several steps towards him.

"No I'm Jeff, I'm your husband."

I turned the other way and saw the second blonde man at the other end. My head was turning between the two. I hoped I would remember my husband but I didn't. They both looked at me; I shook my head and backed into the toilet. I locked myself in and sat trembling on the loo. I started hugging myself. I heard scuffles and swearing just outside the door. A few moments later something fell to the floor, just outside the toilet. There was eerie silence for a few seconds. Then I jumped and shrieked as the door was kicked in. I sat cowering as I saw the head of one of the men on the floor outside, he was unconscious. I looked up into the eyes of the other man who had blood coming from his nose. He was panting hard as he held out his hand. I gulped at the hand that was offered to me.

"Are, you, are you my husband?" I asked nervously.

The End.