After Andy left the Intensive Care Unit, Candy was taken off the ventilator for a conversation with the anaesthetist.

“We’d like to try you on a special kind of local anaesthetic — it’s like an epidural except the tube goes into a different place.  We can control how much drug goes in, so we can tune it to what you need. How does that sound?”

“If it keeps me off this thing it has to be got to be good.”

“Anything else worrying you?”

“Not much I can do is there? I mean I’m stuck here aren’t I.”

“You sound a bit down — you are getting better. It may not feel like that but you’re going two steps forward for every one back.”

Candy looked at him, her gaze tracing his encouraging smile. “It’s all my fault, I can’t get away from that. All this effort from you people, it’s all so... well, it shouldn’t have happened. It’s my fault.”

Half an hour later the anaesthetist was back with a sterile tray and technical looking gadgets. Candy couldn’t see what went on as things were done to her right side somewhere alongside her spine. After a while, she felt the pain being replaced by numbness. Her spirits lift a little and breathing became easier.

The nurses monitored her oxygen levels and after an hour everyone agreed that she was doing well and ought to go back to a normal ward. By evening that had happened and she had a decent night’s sleep for the first time since the accident.

Next morning a new face appeared.

“Hello,” the woman said. “Dr Morgan asked me to see you.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m a clinical psychologist, Dr  Morgan thought you were feeling down; a bit depressed, is that right?”

“Mmmm, because it’s all my fault.”

“You know that’s rarely true.”

“You have no idea.”

“Maybe you should tell me... Are your chest and your voice up to it?”

Candy shook her head.

“That ventilator tube for a day and your ribs, I’m not surprised. I’ll come back tomorrow. Why don’t you think about what I ought to know before I can help you?”

The short exchange was enough to set Candy’s brain whirring, meanwhile Helen the psychologist spent two hours reading Candy’s file and phoning colleagues, one of whom was Marsha, the nurse who had been the first to see Candy when the ambulance brought her in.

“There’s something you ought to know, something I ought to tell you, something confidential,” Marsha said.

“It’s all confidential.”

“No, I mean something you can’t put in the hospital record.”

“Go on.”

“I’m not sure I should — it involves other people...”

“Is it relevant to Candy?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely. Could we take a walk outside or somewhere, or you see me at home?”

“I promised Candy I’d see her later today. What about the coffee bar?”

Marsha shrugged then nodded, remembering that they had little alcoves, one of those would have to do.

Staring at her latte Marsha waited for Helen to settle, carefully observing that she had no handbag, no papers, no recorder.

“I knew Candy before she was admitted.”

“So? I mean that sounds helpful.”

“We were having a sort of affair. I knew she was married, I wasn’t intending to break that up. I wasn’t the only... um... extramarital activity she was involved in. You need to talk to Andy, Candy’s husband, as well as me. He knows about us and all the other things she got up to.  Just so you know how crazy this all is I’ve been staying at their place for the last week and after you phoned last night, I discussed it all with Andy.”

“Wow.”

“I thought psychologists were supposed to be surprised at nothing.”

“Well, yes of course... in a professional sense, but you did insist that this was off the books.”

“Okay, here goes. Every now and then, Candy treats herself to some kind of orgy. I’ve never been with her so I don’t know every detail. She finds some club where wildness is allowed, or tolerated and, um, well... gets up to just about anything. A lot of sex — not so wild as to be totally unsafe but close to it.

“This last time was different because she got a lift home with someone even crazier than her. He was driving a high powered convertible with the top down, one-handed with the other hand holding Candy’s head in his lap, going way too fast and he miscalculated. They hit a truck from behind. The driver was decapitated. Candy survived because she was below the dashboard and was flung into the footwell. The gear lever and transmission hammered her ribs, her face was saved by hitting the driver’s feet and not the pedals.

“She feels guilty because if she wasn’t doing this crazy stuff then none of it would have happened. We’ve since found out that Elroy, the driver, had already wrecked two cars and had a load of citations. Candy being in the car was just an accessory, it could have happened with anyone. Him making her give him a blow job probably saved her life.”

“I think 'wow' was an understatement.”

“Yeah. Actually, there were times when I thought I might need some counselling. I was there when they brought her in, unconscious and covered in blood, and I mean covered– mostly Elroy’s blood but I didn’t even recognise her until I was cleaning her face.”

Helen closed her eyes for a moment, sat back in her chair, and a few seconds later let out a long breath as she opened her eyes. She reached for her coffee and took a sip.

“I can see why you wanted a private conversation, and you’re right, this probably shouldn’t be in the hospital notes. People are usually good about confidence, but this is so outside most folk’s experience that someone might be unable to stop themselves from sharing something.”

She sat for a minute, hands together, finger steepled, her face a mask of deep concentration, almost like praying.

“I can see why she feels a burden, several burdens I guess. Some are easy to dismiss, at a logical level — Elroy, as you say, sounds like an accident waiting to happen. She won’t see it that way, at least not at first, but we can work on that.”

“That’s the easy part.”

“The easy part?”

“She blames herself for hurting me and Andy. She spent yesterday back on the ventilator and she was on it when Andy visited. When he got home, he was in pieces. I know he tried really hard to keep it together while he was here but I think Candy picked up some of how much he’s worried about her. What started out as a fun way to spice up their marriage has turned out... well... not fun. No fun at all. She feels that it’s all on her.”

“What does Andy think?”

“Annoyed with himself for not being there. He was expecting her to call him when she needed collecting and then she said she had a lift. The next thing he knew was a message from the police.”

“And you? How do you feel?”

“Complicated. I think she should stop all this but I can’t be sure if that’s because I’m jealous or sensible. What I think ought not to matter.”

Helen sipped her coffee, sat back in her chair and smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “Thanks for being so honest — you could have kept out of it — it’s not easy for you, obviously. What about you and Andy?”

“What?”

“The way you talk about him, there’s affection there, it seems like you have a rapport or is there more to it?”

Marsha paused, a smile creeping over her face before she shook her head.

“We’re not going there. If... if there was anything that would be between Andy and me.”

“Oh sure,” said Helen, “I get that, but could Candy be depressed because she was worried about you two? She’s going to be in here for a while yet. We haven’t got her mobile at all, she could need a lot of rehab. Could she be worried about you being with Andy?”

Marsha couldn’t get that question out of her mind the whole way through her shift. Should she go and see Candy when she got off duty? Halfway through her shift she was weakening but a cup of tea and a hard think brought her resolve back. Better if Andy asked her. She sent him a text.

‘I need to talk to you before you visit tonight — She’s off the ventilator — Back on the old ward. Call me when you get here.’

When her shift ended, she bought a sandwich and waited in the car park. Her phone buzzed and she soon found Andy’s car.

“What’s the problem?”

“Candy has seen Helen Edwards, one of our psychology team. Candy told the anaesthetist she was depressed. I spoke to Helen this morning. I filled her in on why Candy might be depressed but Helen threw me a fastball. Could Candy be depressed because of us?”

“Did you tell Helen Edwards about us?” Andy looked shocked.

“No, not at all but she’s smart. She picked up something from the way I talked about you. I mean I didn’t say anything really, but she clocked something, body language I think. She said I showed affection when I talked about you — which is true I guess.”

“This Helen, what do you make of her?”

“When I saw her she’d hardly spoken to Candy, apart from Candy saying she was depressed because it was all her fault. Helen’s probably talked with her some more while I’ve been on shift.”

Andy stood for a few seconds, leaning against the car. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll tell Candy that she needn’t worry about anything. If she wants to stay with me, good, if she’d rather go off with you, then I’ll cope. If she’s happy to have both of us, then that’s what we’ll do, but if she doesn’t even want to think about it — no problem.”

“If you had to put those in order what would it be?”

“Losing Candy is right at the bottom. If you and I ended up together without her, we’d probably both feel bad and I don’t have a clue how it would turn out. All being together, crazy as it sounds it probably top of my list.”

“What if she gets really ill and doesn’t make it?”

“I guess we’ll both feel bad and after a suitable interval I’ll ask you to marry me if you’ll have me.”

“But you wouldn’t leave her and run away with me?”

“Oh... um... I kind of think you wouldn’t want me to. If she threw me out, if she threw both of us out... I’d work at it, I’d want it to work... What about you — you put me on the spot; what about you?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’d hate to lose either of you. You can tell her that. I’ll go home and cook something.”

“You said home.”

“Mmmm... yeah,” She chuckled for a second. “Yeah, I did. Go and cheer her up, give her my love.”

Andy watched Marsha drive off and walked slowly into the hospital. By the time he got to her bed he still had no idea what to say. Candy was asleep. Andy eased himself into the chair by the bed lay back and waited. He’d almost dozed off himself when she woke.

“Hello, love,” she said.

Andy sat up, momentarily startled. “Hey... good to see you back here. How are the ribs?”

“Much better, this tube thing sticking in my back does something to numb them.”

“It’s great to see you breathing without wincing.” He stood up, leaned over and kissed her. “That’s a whole heap better without the tubes...”

What to say? For a few seconds, he hesitated. “Marsha sends her love, I tried to persuade her to come, but she’s uneasy about the hospital knowing about you two. Does that make any sense to you?”

“No... I mean, what’s it to them?”

“She thinks they’ll gossip, or maybe they’ll think less of her, you know because they know we’re married.”

“Yeah but it’s not as though she’s going to jump into bed with me while I’m here.”

Andy chuckled. “Personally I can’t wait... but, well, you know. No hanky-panky until those ribs are solid.”

Candy shifted in the bed to get a better look at him. “You nearly caught yourself out there didn’t you.”

“What?”

“What you were going to say was that you wanted to see me in bed with M. Go on, admit it.”

“I can’t wait. Are you okay with M and me?”

“What’s not to like? It means I can keep both of you.”

“So that’s not why you’re seeing this doctor Helen?”

“Ah... Who told you?”

“She talked to Marsha because she was the first person to see you when you arrived.”

“But M spilled the beans?”

“Yeah, kind of. Not about M and me, not exactly but M thinks she picked up something.”

Candy lay back with her eyes closed for a while. Andy waited.

“I’m going to have it out with that bitch — she never said, never said a word about speaking to Marsha. That can’t be right.”

“Honey, it doesn’t matter– maybe it’s best she knows. Helping you is what matters. I wish I knew how to help.”

“I have to be able to trust her.”

“No love, you just have to let her help you. I hate to say this because it sounds like management-speak, but try to think of it as an opportunity.”

“An opportunity for what?” she said.

“I think we should try to see this as a clean sheet. It will be months before you are back to normal and probably even longer before either of us... well, me anyway... would feel easy going back to what we were doing.”

“You mean what I was doing.”

“It was us, love. I played the game, I agreed to it. I could have come with you. It was what we were doing.”

“I stopped you coming.”

“I have to own up a little. A couple of times I did spy on you. Sometimes when you went to a club near home, I followed you and set the phone at home to come through to me. I could have done that all the time but it felt like a kind of cheating, not trusting you.”

“I never knew.”

Candy lay back in the bed, eyes closed, shaking her head a little.

“So now you’re blaming yourself for what happened?” she said, her eyes opening, fixing him with a glare.

“No,” he said. “Not completely — it’s complicated, that’s all. You were foolish, no question about that, and Elroy was downright crazy. He was driving and he could have killed both of you.”

“I should have been more responsible. I should have found out a bit more about him apart from how big his cock was.”

“Honey, we could talk about this all day. I want to move on. I should have asked you before. If you feel up to it, can you tell me what it is that you get out of this? If I’m going to keep you from going stir crazy for the next six months, then I have to find a way to give you the same thrill without spending time under big cocked studs who could crack your ribs every time they fuck you. So what is it? Is fucking the only thing that does it?”

Candy closed her eyes again. A minute passed and then another.

“It isn’t the fucking... it’s being used... being out of control... not knowing what’s going to happen... The sex is good, but mostly because I’m being used. If someone has power over me, then that’s what they do. They fuck me, they make me suck them, lick them, all that stuff that normally I’d never do....” she paused for a second, opened her eyes and looked right at Andy. “I know you could do those things and I try to make up it to you but if you made me do these things it wouldn’t work the same. We’re married, married people do all sorts of stuff... it’s expected and I made promises to you. Being out of control is different... and it’s wrong... that’s why you have to punish me.”

“So is the punishment part of it?”

She grinned finally and blew him a kiss. “Yes and the more you push it, the more you surprise me the better it is. Sometimes you’re too timid, you have to hit me harder.”

“I had it all wrong.”

“Go on.”

“I thought it was all about sex. Sex with guys with bigger cocks, more muscles, dominant personalities, the kind of guys who push their way through life taking what they want.”

“Some of them are like that. A lot of them actually but that’s not what I needed. I like being out of control... talking about it now is doing it for me.”

“I’d better shut up or there’ll be trouble.”

She lay back in the bed for a second and stared at the ceiling, eventually looking back at Andy with a rueful smile. “So what now?”

“I’ll have to figure out ways to give you what you want.”

“What will you do?”

“That’s a secret. If you know... you’ll know — and that’s not the point.”

“You mean you have no idea,” Candy said with a sly grin.

“No love — you have no idea — that is the point.”

Candy smiled and laid her head back on the pillow, smiling.

“When it stops hurting will I forget what an idiot I’ve been?”

“Do you want to forget?” Andy’s voice softened, the playfulness gone.

“There’s a lot I can’t remember,” Candy sighed. “If I could remember everything, then maybe I would want to forget. One of the docs said I might never remember some of it. The forgetting’s been done for me — that’s what makes it worse. In my mind, I fill the gaps with the worst of everything I’ve ever done.”

Her head lifted again, her gaze meeting his. She stayed silent as some thought passed over Andy’s face.

“What?” she said.

“This may sound dumb... well it probably is dumb, but maybe there’s something in that.”

“In what?”

“Filling in the gaps in your head with the most extreme,” he said. “There’s no way you could top or bottom that — like whichever way you want to see it, you’ve maxed out of all that kind of stuff. Can you imagine anything more, anything wilder than nearly getting killed?”

“Now you put it like that...”

“Maybe it’s time for something new?”

“And that’s what you’re going to provide?”

“Would you like that?”

There was a long silence, Candy lay back with her eyes closed. Andy checked his watch a couple of times, worried that a nurse would come along and ask him to go. Could he do anything like what might be in Candy’s dreams? He had a few weeks to figure something out, talk to Marsha, do research... yeah why not? Take charge, grow up. Why not?

Candy stirred.

“Andy, I’d love that but it doesn’t matter if I like it. I didn’t always like what was done to me, I liked being used...” She took another deep breath. “It will matter if you don’t like it, but if you can find a way to enjoy it, then you can do what you like.”

“One condition,” he said.

Her eyes opened.

“You have to be able to say no, not all the time, just now and then, say once a month or something like that. You remember we read those cuckold stories where the husband would be locked up for a set period or till the wife had come so many times. We could do something like that. Would you sign up to that?”

“Sign up to what exactly?”

“To a blank sheet, to me being able to do whatever. A contract, like a job, with penalty clauses and all that stuff — make it look serious.”

“Penalty clauses?”

“Absolutely.”

“So I’m like a slave or something for a while.”

“When you feel the need you sign a new copy and it works for.... well for however long. Maybe we spin a wheel or shake dice or something. No safe word. The only way out is to take a penalty.”

She closed her eyes and lay back. He could see her eyes roll up under the lids and a breathless shudder ran through her.

“Oh... I almost came. You are a genius, it’s making me so wet thinking about it.”

Andy got up from his chair and leaned over to kiss her, one hand running under the bedclothes for a few seconds before finding its way to his mouth. He smiled.

“Yup, lots of juice. Good to know there’s no damage there. It’s an easy contract to draw up, a blank sheet with a dotted line at the bottom.”

He kissed her again and set off home.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

“How was she?”

“A lot better, the new pain system is working and we had a long chat.”

“And?”

“She’s still into blaming herself. I think we broke into it a bit.”

Marsha gave him a quick hug. “It is her fault, mostly anyway, you have to let her have that. The way she was going, sooner or later something was bound to go wrong. What happened was spectacular... maybe that’s not the right word but you know what I mean. We should both be glad that she’s come out of it in one piece.” She paused for a second and gave him a long look. “I’ve met you too and that’s... well, that’s a good thing... a bonus... something I’ll never regret.”

The last words were slow and deliberate.

“It’s been good for me too... we’ll have to figure out where we go with this.”

“How do you mean?”

Andy chuckled. “I got used to Candy fucking around a while back — once I knew she always came back. I never thought about the possibility of her getting off with women, or a woman, but I guess it’s the same deal.”

“So long as she comes back? So if I move in here then there’s no way she doesn’t come back?”

“For a given definition of back.”

“Meaning your bed?”

“I’m not sure what I would do if the two of you slept together all the time and I was on my own.”

“You’re not sure? As opposed to totally pissed off?”

“A lot would depend on how the two of you treated me... I think... it might feel a lot like being divorced... I don’t know... It wouldn’t be what I would choose.”

“But something happened today, did she say something?”

“Sort of, yeah. Do you know why she does this wild sex thing?”

“A month ago, I’d have said it was because her husband wasn’t up to it, but I know better now, so actually, I have no idea.”

“She has a need to be out of control. Not all of the time, but now and then she has to be used, to have no say in the matter. There’s a submissive streak in her that has to be fed from time to time. She feels disgusted about it, but she knows it’s there. Does that make any sense?”

“I’ve heard of some folk who are like that.”

“I did something a little crazy... I said I’d find a way to give her that, but without putting everything at risk.”

“You want me to help?”

“Could you?”

“Me no, no way, I’m not that type. Hell, I have a problem even teasing you. On the other hand, I think I know someone who might have some ideas, and we could learn.”

“Is this an ex-boyfriend?”

“A dominatrix I once knew.”

“Knew?”

“In the biblical sense, as they say.” For a second Marsha paused, a faraway look crossing her face for a second. “It didn’t work out in the long run because what she wanted couldn’t fit in with nursing and I wanted to nurse... For a couple of years, I was... her slave.”

Marsha had been looking down, her face almost hidden as she said it but once the words were out some tension left her and she looked up.  After a second she grinned.

“Andy, is there anything that shocks you?” The smile faded and she held up her hand — “Sorry, not a fair question, the last few weeks you must have been in a permanent state of shock.”

Andy shrugged. “I guess. I’m running on empty a little and I’m confused half of the time. So while I’m in this nothing-shocks-me mood, what exactly does being a slave involve? If you want to tell me... Should I go see this woman? What would she teach me?”

“You’re a smart guy, right? So if you spent a day being a slave with Mistress, or even just seeing what she does, I think you’d get what she was doing? Then you could have me as a slave for a day or even longer. I think you’d learn a lot that might work for Candy.”

“Slow down, kid. Did you part on good terms with this lady? I mean does she have any grudges she’d want to settle?”

“It was ten years ago, but we left on good terms. She actually gave me some money, an education grant, she called it. ‘You never know, I might need a decent nurse one of these days.’ That’s what she told me.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

Marsha gave a wry smile. “I learned a lot.”

“Is enjoyment the wrong word?”

“Yeah, kind of. There was fulfillment though, seeing my mistress pleased with me was a huge buzz. That did it for me back then.”

“And does nursing do it for you now?”

“Yeah. Yeah exactly, that’s the point. There’s some of the out-of-control bit too. Nurses have to do as they’re told and put up with whatever comes and they don’t know when the reward will come.”

“Like finding your girlfriend unconscious, barely breathing and covered in blood and cum.”

“That was extreme, but nursing can be like that. It stretches you, but it’s more worthwhile than having my arse whipped by Mistress while I give a blow job to some rich tired businessman.”

“You figure we could have Candy do that?”

“Not for a while.”

“What was the least energetic thing you did.”

“Friday nights.”

“Don’t tease me, this is serious research.”

“Friday night, Mistress had dinner parties. I was the table decoration. Always nude, sometimes face down with a candle in my bum, sometimes face up.”

“With a candle in your mouth?”

Marsha laughed. “You’re good. Mistress did have these candles that were moulded from guy’s cocks. I’d have one of those in my mouth. They were special slow-burning wax. Mistress had these masochistic chicks who’d served the food. If someone found fault with one of their performances, the girl was made to kneel over me and snuff the candle with her pussy.”

“Gees.”

“Most times the girl would play with herself to get juices going, get dripping wet and then go for it. It wasn’t easy cos the guys would hold her legs so she couldn’t wriggle too far away from the flame. Sometimes they’d take too long and burn their fingers; of course, the real pain sluts would enjoy it. Mistress had a way of finding these girls — they were useless as slaves, they were too needy.”

“So you didn’t get played with like that?”

“Not like that, no. I was Mistress’s special slave. She'd play rough with me if she’d had a bad day, it got her back on an even keel. She was wonderful to me afterwards, she’d massage me with  ointment, feed me something delicious and cuddle me all night.”

“Wow.”

“You should try it, Andy. Mistress did, she always said that she never did anything to me that she hadn’t had done to her. I don’t know if she’d had it as hard or as often, but she knew well enough. A mistress or a master has to know what they are doing — the slave is in their hands.”

“Didn’t you have a safe word or something like that?”

“Subs have safe words, slaves don’t. If Candy wants to feel out of control, she’ll have to be a slave; she’ll have to let go completely and trust you and you’ll have to take her places she’s never been. Could you cope with doing that, with being master?”

“Could you be a mistress? You have the experience.”

“Andy love, I wouldn’t have my heart in it. I can help you but you probably need a week with Mistress, not a day. I love Candy but not the way you do. I think I already love you, but if you want to give Candy this ‘out of control’ thing then it has to be you that does it.”

Marsha kept quiet as the idea sank in. She knew enough about Andy by now to know that he was a thinker, he’d turn it over in his mind, figure out the sticking points, work out options and then he’d come back with more questions and maybe decisions. One thing for sure if he was going to talk to Mistress or spend time with her then he needed to start the ball rolling. If Andy decided to do it then it would need to happen straight away. If Mistress said she might have a slot in a month or two, that wouldn’t cut it.

“Let’s eat,” she said. “I know you cook better than me but I had a go while you were out, I thought you might need some restoration.”