Queen Vivian

The next thing I remember is waking up as the plane was landing. We arrived at our next stop. I was a mess. It was dark and I was helped into another limo. The driver checked out my body as I got in the car.

"Wait," he said, "I don't want her messing up my back seat. I'll get a blanket out of the trunk for her to sit on."

So there I stood, naked in the cool night air, waiting for him to put a blanket on his precious back seat. The blanket was dirty and smelled. All I wanted to do was get to our hotel and climb in a tub and get clean. So I sat on the blanket as instructed.

Somehow I was smuggled, still nude, up to our suite in the hotel. While I was waiting for the tub to fill, two of the guys double teamed me. I just lie on the bathroom and let them use me. John poked his head in the bathroom door and I saw the disgust in his eyes,

"She's a real slut once she gets started, isn't she?" he said to no one in particular.

That's how the rest of the month went. I was kept nude most of the time. The group I was traveling with used me in the hotel rooms, they even brought some of their friends or other men they had met in the various hotel bars. John passed me around to various managers at the factories we were touring. If I wasn't being fucked, I was recovering from pulling a train. I could just about walk most of the time.

I loved the feelings.

I felt myself change, I was no longer the high powered executive, but a simple slut. They knew what I wanted done to me when I had sex. No longer did I need to order my husband around to get my satisfaction. I could just spread my legs and let someone else be responsible for my pleasure.

It was a great month. I didn't get dressed again until the plane touched down at the end of our trip. And then I dressed on the tarmac as my group watched. John and I had our own car and driver. The rest of the group had driven their own cars to the airport.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

One the ride back to the office it happened. I don't remember much about the accident. Just the sound of screaming tires and the crash of metal, and then the blackness. I woke in pain. The Doctor gave me a shot and I faded into the darkness again but the pain went away.

It was two weeks before I was conscience again. I was groggy and really didn't have a grip on anything. The doctor explained what had happened to me.

"You were in a car accident two weeks ago. The man you were riding with was killed instantly when the car rolled over him. The police found no identification on either of you. They assumed your id was destroyed when the car burned."

"My name is Vivian Cunningham-White and his name was John Hunt. We are executives at Potter Tool and Die," I offered. "We were returning from a business trip."

"Why wasn't my husband Phil by my side with the children?" I wondered.

The police arrived in my room later that day. I repeated my story to them. They left strangely quiet. All they said was, "We'll get back to you."

I wasn't going anywhere. I had a broken leg, a broken foot, a couple of broken ribs, some scaring on my face from broken glass, a concussion and some damage to my back.

About a week later they moved me from my private room to a ward. I now had three roommates. The hospital staff explained that I had no health insurance and I was being put in a charity ward. I threw a fit! I wasn't a charity case. I was an important VP at a major company.

I soon was given another shot.

The next day the lead detective paid me a visit. "Mrs. Cunningham-White we have a bit of a problem. It seems as if there is no record of you ever existing or your "friend" John Hunt."

"Call my husband. He'll straighten this out."

"I'm sorry, but we can find no record of your husband ever existing. The address you gave us is an empty lot. The company you claim to work for as moved to another state. They claim they have no records of you ever working for them. Do you want me to continue?"

I don't really remember anything else until waking up a couple of weeks later. The doctor that was treating me said I suffered a shock to my system and that was why I stayed "away" for those past weeks.

A month later, Vivian was transferred to a secure mental facility. There was a complicated diagnosis which all boiled down to saying she was delusional and didn't have a grip on reality.

She was put on an anti-psychotic drug and soon drifted into darkness. The drugs basically shut her conscience mind off. She spent the next ten years this way until some purchasing agent started buying a cheaper substitute for this drug. It was a cost saving measure.

The new version of this drug was not as effective as the older version. Vivian started coming back into the world of the living.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The administrator at the mental facility signed off on another report. He took a second to wonder why some agency of the Federal Government was paying attention to only one of his inmates before signing the form.

As he glanced at the paper work, he admired the effort put in by his staff to make this report "full". It covered every action and consequence for this poor woman. He noted that the staff indicated she was no longer taking her meds and appeared completely free of their effects.

He put the report in his completed pile. "If she's drug free, then her mind should have recovered. She should be back to normal. If she's "normal" and pretending to be ill, then she won't be able to have any human interaction."

While starting the next report, he thought, "God she must be lonely if she's pretending."

The administrator shifted his attention to the next request, a purchase order for supplies. Vivian was quickly put out of his mind.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Epilog

Phil was sitting on his lanai outside his home in Hawaii. He had moved here with his children after he found out his wife, Vivian, was cheating on him. He had planned his revenge carefully.

He was a case officer for the CIA, planning and execution were his areas of expertise. Because of his position, the government watched him and his family closely. They were constantly checking up on them to keep him from being open to blackmail.

One day his boss called him on his secure phone, "Phil I have bad news for you. Vivian is having an affair. We are taking action to move you and your children to another location. We will be taking a different course of action with her."

Phil knew he could never confront her about the affair. The Agency would not allow any action of that type by him. If he gave her the slightest hint he knew of her transgression, they would kill her. Killing her was just too easy of a punishment. He wanted her to suffer as much as he was hurting now.

He and his boss began planning his revenge, but of course, they called it his relocation.

It took six months, but the plan came together. Vivian would be out of town on a facilities tour with her boss and lover, he and the children would just cease to exist. The CIA would move them to a new location with new identities. The move would be explained to the children as necessary because their mother died in an auto accident. All traces of their lives with Vivian were erased.

It was also arraigned that there were no records of Vivian's life to be found.

Phil walked into his office and dropped the monthly report into his paper shredder. He thought, "She's got her mind back and now will suffer the loneliness I have been suffering all these years."

Phil glanced at the calendar on his desk, "February 14. Happy Valentine's Day, Bitch."

The End.