The MatchMaker Bandits – The Great Hippocrates Robberies Part 1 The Patient

Author: Maximillian Excaliber

The Great Hippocrates Robberies
By Maximillian_Excaliber


When I started writing some months back, it was with the intention of developing my skills sufficiently so that, with confidence, I could begin writing more conventional fiction. Each story I write is a learning experience for me as I attempt to sharpen my technical skills and story telling techniques.

You will find my stories are becoming longer than the previous ones as I attempt to weave more plot and character development into them.

I hope this is an improvement and you enjoy them.

And now for a word about this particular set of stories.

A few years back I received a couple of rotator cuff injuries that, until recently, had remained undiagnosed. Between that and some other medical problems I will not go into right now, I unfortunately found myself spending more time than I wanted to in medical offices. One good thing has come out of it though; all that time waiting gave me a few ideas for a couple of stories.

This series is the first one of those ideas I have put to words.

As you read these, I think you’ll find it amazing what can be running through one’s mind while they are in a waiting room.

When next you go to the doctor or dentist, think back on these stories and try to imagine what the other people in the waiting room are daydreaming about as they wait alone with you. I think you’ll find it an interesting way to pass the time.

When I started writing this storyline, it was with the intent of writing a single short story. However, as I was reaching the end of what would eventually become part one, it occurred to me that the Matchmaker Bandits had never failed to acquire their objectives before.

The idea of infallibility has never set well with me so I decided to make them just a little more human, and once in a while, let someone else get the best of them. I already had begun to get other ideas for expanding the story floating through my mind when I decided to write what would eventually become Part Two. By the time I was finished with it, my imagination was running full out and I decided to see just how far I could take the storyline.

Please keep in mind the following when you get to Part Four:

One of the two main characters, Lyle Cunningham, describes a medical history including attempts to treat a condition that affected him while he was in college.

While you are reading part four, as outrageous as the medical history described may seem, it is based on actual events in my life.

The main differences between the medical history depicted in the story and what actually happened to me are that I saw far more doctors than does did the character in the story before being properly diagnosed and my gallbladder problems went on for over four years. Also, I am now a type-2 diabetic. The end results of the gallstone being left in too long are that I now have a damaged spleen, pancreas, and liver.

Yes as unbelievable as it sounds, it really does happen.

I want to stress that this is a work of fiction. While some places actually exist, the small town of Magnolia, in Part Five, is a complete construction of my imagination. All characters and events are fictitious and any similarity between the characters and events in the novel and actual people or events is purely in the imagination of you, the reader.

Also, I’d like to thank “Jaily Ember” for taking the time to edit this massive undertaking of mine.

Finally, whether you like it, hate it or are totally indifferent, please take the time to rate it and leave feedback. Also, when doing so, try and remember that the works on this site are mostly done by amateurs such as myself and are edited by volunteers. While every effort has been made to ensure that it is as error free as possible, some minor errors should be expected. Please send me an email and I will correct them in a future reposting of the story. It is very import for the feedback and rating system to be viable that you rate and leave feedback for each posting only once.

Without further ado, please enjoy this, the first Matchmaker Bandit Novel.

Maximillian Excaliber

Part One – The Patient


“Did you get the full five thousand this time, Baby?” Johnny “King” Muller asked Joyce Collins, his girlfriend, and wife of the unsuspecting Kent Collins as she opened the front side passenger door of her car and got in.

She replied, “Yes, just like you told me.” With a look of concern on her face she asked, “But what if he asks me about it?”

“Fuck him! That will shut him up, then give me a call. I’ll come get you and we’ll take the forty-five grand we’ve got and blow town with it before he knows you’re gone.” He said as he began pulling out of the bank’s parking lot. “No let’s go back to your place. I want you to blow me while I sit in the sap’s favorite chair. Then I’m going to fuck you silly in his bed. I can’t believe that idiot could be home fucking that hot ass of yours all weekend but the moron is working instead.”

She slipped her hand down between his legs and lowered the zipper on his pants. Then she reached into the opening and gently began massaging his cock while he drove to her house. Without missing a stroke, she said to him, “We’ve never done that before, isn’t that risky? What if he comes home and catches us?”

‘King’ was driving with one hand, his other arm being around her small waist and his free hand also already under her dress and rubbing her naked pussy.

“Don’t worry your sweet ass about it. Baby. I’ll take care of him if he shows up!” he said menacingly.

Chapter One – “Off Work Early”

It had been a long hard work week. In fact, it had been a long hard four months at work. I had put in fifty-five hours of overtime this week alone and being salaried, I would receive no extra pay for it.

This particular week I had spent almost every waking hour at work trying to keep what I thought was a flaky server up and running, only to find out that the battery-backup it was plugged in to was defective. To make matters worse, the software that was supposed to monitor it was buggy.

To say that I was tired when I walked in the front door of my house would have been the understatement of the century.

Still, I always enjoyed coming home to my showcase house. It was one of the things that reminded me why I worked so hard. I found few things more beautiful than the view provided me when I walked in my front door. The radiant afternoon sunbeams shining through my patio doors onto the hard wood floor of the living room is absolutely unforgettable.

While I was certainly no millionaire, we both loved having all the conveniences we could afford. Most people would think I was crazy for indulging in such luxuries as having high definition televisions and phones in every room in the house including the bathrooms, but I wanted to enjoy the fruits of my labors.

If you had asked me then, I would have told you that life was good and couldn’t get any better.

But despite the beautiful view that was waiting for me when I walked in the door that day, I was extremely tired. All I wanted to do was enjoy a nice relaxing shower, grab an ice cold drink from the refrigerator and fall into a coma until my wife Joyce, Joyce Vivian Collins, that’s her full name by the way, came home.

Her car had not been in the garage when I pulled up and I just assumed that she was out finding new and creative ways to spend most of my latest paycheck.

She seemed to have a natural talent for causing the money to disappear as fast as I made it. At that time, I didn’t even mind that she could go through money faster than a bulimic goes though a buffet.

You see, while I, Kent Collins, might be a geeky, average looking guy of about 5’9” tall and having short brown hair, brown eyes and the pale white complexion of your average office dwelling computer nerd whose never seen the light of day, Joyce was very much not!

She was a stunning blond knockout that most men would have killed for, and she knew it. I think the best way for me to describe her is to simply say that she could easily have passed for Anna Nichole Smith’s twin sister.

I wasn’t stupid enough not to know she was going to be high maintenance when I married her and I also knew from the beginning that I would have to keep her happy.

Yeah, I know, my priorities were screwed up back then.

There could be no doubt about it; I was luckier than most forty-eight year old men. I was not deeply in debt, was not paying off any ex-wives and I had no children to support. The last was by choice.

I had just never felt the need to fight my mortality by procreating and it didn’t bother me a bit not to her the ‘pitter-patter’ of little ones running wildly through the house. I was very fortunate that my trophy wife didn’t want to ruin her perfect figure by having a family.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not as selfish as you might think. Had she wanted children, I would have done everything I could to see to it that she had them, even it that meant adoption. But she didn’t. So, it was to our mutual satisfaction that she remained that most desirable woman I married for as long as she could.

But back to my story. I had taken a nice long shower and was feeling very relaxed when, with a towel rapped around me, I headed from the master bath to the kitchen. My only desires at that time was to open the refrigerator and find something cold to drink before laying down for a nice long nap. I went through our bedroom, down the hallway and into the living room on my way to the kitchen.

When I got to the living room, I stopped dead in my tracks. What I saw was Joyce’s slimy ex-boyfriend, Johnny ‘King’ Muller, sitting in my favorite chair, nude from the waist down with his pants around his ankles and my bare-chested wife kneeling in front of him trying to see how much of his dick she could use to swab her throat!

Unfortunately, the sight of my unfaithful wife blowing the scum ball was not foremost on my mind at the time. What was foremost on my mind was the pistol laying on the end table that ‘King’ was reaching for with his right hand.

The events that occurred next are still somewhat of a blur to me. I remember my towel opening in the front and it leaving me completely exposed as I attempted to dive behind the couch. I remember seeing ‘King’ suddenly grab Joyce by her hair and yank her mouth off of his dick as he tried to aim the pistol in my direction.

After that, I have some recollection of Joyce protesting to ‘King’ about something. All that was followed by an excruciating pain in my groin just before I hit the floor behind the couch.

The sound of Joyce saying, “Jesus King, you could have warned me!” was the last thing I heard before I passed out from the pain.

It occurred to me later that while ‘King’ was shooting his big pistol at me, he was also shooting his little pistol at Joyce and his wad had ended up all over her face. From the screaming she did, you would have thought that the shot she received hurt more than the one I did!

It seems that one of my neighbors had heard the gunshot and called 911.

When the Police arrived to find me laying unconscious on the floor in a pool of my own blood, Joyce and ‘King’ were nowhere in sight.

Despite ‘King’s’ best attempt, I guess I wasn’t dead after all!

Chapter Two – “Vas Deferens”

While one usually doesn’t use the words ‘It sounds worse than it really was” to describe being shot, that is exactly what it was.

When I came to, I was in the emergency room being examined by a female physician. The pain in my groin area was almost unbearable and I remember her saying to me as she gave me a shot for it, how lucky I was. As I once again passed out when the shot took effect, I didn’t find out until later what she meant.

The next thing I remember was waking up in the recovery room. Even in the drug induced state I was in I knew that I had undergone some form of surgery. I think I asked the nurse what had happened before passing out again. When I awakened once more, I was in a hospital room with a different nurse standing over me.

“Welcome back, Mr. Collins.” She said with a smile on her face without looking up from her watch as she took my pulse.

About that time the fog was lifting enough from my brain for me to begin to feel both cold and pain coming from the area of my testicles.

In horror, I started to lift up the sheet to look under it as I said to her, “What…what happened to me?”

The nurse grabbed my hands and gently pulled them away. Then she said to me reassuringly, “You’re going to be just fine, Mr. Collins. Let me page the doctor and he will explain everything to you.” With that, she picked up the phone on the stand next to the bed and began speaking into it for several moments.

After she had put down the phone, she turned to me and said, ”Dr. Mark Jennings will be here shortly to explain everything to you. Don’t worry. You’re in good hands. He is one of the best urologists in the state. In the mean time, I’m going to give you something to help ease the pain.”

I was about to argue with her but before I could say anything she produced a hypodermic, uncapped it, inserted the needle into the IV and began slowly pushing the plunger. Thirty seconds after the fluid began flowing into the tube a car could have run over me and I wouldn’t have cared.

Some hours later I reawakened to the sound of voice. There in the room talking, were two people. I recognized the woman as the nurse who been so quick with a hypo but did not know who the man was that she was talking to but I assumed it was one of the hospital physicians.

He glanced over at me and said to her, “Good, he’s awake!” and walked over to my bedside.

“I’m Dr. Jennings. You are a very lucky man, Mr. Collins.” He said to me smiling.

The pain was beginning to hit me even while the fog of sleep was lifting. I looked at him and said, “So everyone keeps telling me. I sure don’t feel like it right now.”

“I’m bet you don’t! But trust me, you are going to be just fine in a few days. You will need to stay in bed for the next day or so.” he said confidently, and then added, “Do you have someone to look after you?”

“Huh?” I said to him quizzically before adding, “What happened? Why do my balls hurt so much?” Then it finally occurred to me to ask the really important question, “I still have them don’t I?”

The doctor looked at the nurse and asked, “Hasn’t anyone told him?”

“He hasn’t had any visitors yet, no family members, no friends, nobody.” she replied to the physician.

“Oh, I see.” he said to her. Then turned to me, “I have consulted with a few other urologists and the best we can figure out is that when you dived for cover, the towel covering you fell open allowing your testicles to hang freely downward at the time you were shot. Had that not happened, the bullet most probably would have destroyed both your testicles.

Instead, the bullet severed both your ‘vas deferens’. That is the technical name for the tubes leading to your testicles. The result was that when the bullet severed them you effectively received an instant vasectomy. It was a one in a million shot. The paramedics got to you very quickly which is why you did not bleed as badly as you could have.

It was your good fortune that I was already at the hospital seeing another patient when you arrived. I performed surgery on you to clean and cauterize both the entry and exit wounds of the bullet, and the severed tubes.

This was necessary in order to prevent infection and further bleeding.

I’m sorry to have to tell you but I am pretty sure that you will no longer be capable of producing offspring.” He paused a few seconds to let what he said sink in. Then he continued, “However, once you recover, everything should feel and work pretty much the same way it did before with the exception being that you probably will not be able to impregnate a woman.” Then he asked, “Do you understand?”

Speechless, I nodded affirmatively.

He continued, “The pain and discomfort you are feeling is about what a man would experience after having a vasectomy.

Because of the amount of blood you lost, I am going to keep you overnight but you can expect to be discharged in the morning. You will probably want to take it easy for a few days and keep ice on the wound to minimize the swelling.

The ice will also help with the pain. When you are discharged, you will be given two prescriptions; one will be an antibiotic to prevent infection and the other a mild painkiller.

Take the antibiotic as indicated and the pain killer only as needed. I’d like to see you at my office in about a week to make sure that the wound is healing correctly.

After that, we’ll check your ejaculate for sperm in about three months but I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you. The damage to your tubes was quite extensive.” He looked down at the chart he was holding long enough to write something and then said to me without looking up, “Do you have any questions? Is there anything I need to clarify for you?”

It seemed pretty simple to me so I paraphrased for him, “I take one bullet and now I am permanently shooting blanks! Right?”

“Yes, that’s right.” He replied before asking, “I can have my office fax something over to your employer tomorrow giving you a week’s sick time if you’d like?”

Hell, I needed a break anyway after the hours I had been putting in, so I said to him, “Thanks, that would be great.”

“If you need anything or have any questions, just call my office.” He said as he handed the chart back to the nurse.

Two minutes later he was gone and five minutes after that I found myself alone and finally had time to consider everything that had happened.

At first I thought the whole thing had been my fault and that, perhaps, I had simply spent too much time at work and had ignored Joyce. Then it occurred to me, nobody made her decide to start seeing ‘King’ again. She never complained about my not being there for her while she was spending the money I was earning.

I don’t know which hurt more, my balls or my heart when the cold hard truth finally sunk in that she probably never cared about me at all. If she ever had, she couldn’t have left me lying on the floor the way she did.

Just before I fell asleep again, I made up my mind that the first thing I would do when I got home was to call a lawyer and see about filing for a divorce.

Chapter Three – “Coming Home”

While I was waiting to be discharged the next morning I finally had visitors. I had expected someone from work to come and see me and I was a little surprised when it turned out that my visitors were two representatives from the Atlanta police department.

One was a very tall black man who identified himself as Detective Rollins and the other was a much shorter, stocky Caucasian woman with a somewhat butch haircut that he introduced as Detective Williams.

After Detective Rollins asked me how I was doing, he asked me if I remembered what happened. I recounted what I could remember of the events that led to my being in the hospital to them. Throughout the whole time I was speaking, Detective Williams was busy making notes in her somewhat worn out notepad.

“You know, you’re very lucky that the bullet did not hit anything vital and we are not here investigating a homicide.”

I was tired of hearing everyone tell me how lucky I was and I guess I was a little curt when I snapped at her saying, “While I am equally as glad that you are not investigating a homicide today, I don’t exactly feel very lucky right now. Somehow it does not seem very fortunate to me at all that I was shot by the asshole my wife was blowing!”

“Under the circumstances, that’s quite understandable Mr. Collins,” Detective Rollins said to me, as he handed me his business card then continued, “Be sure and call me immediately if you remember anything else or should your wife or ‘King’ try to contact you. One last thing, if you’re up to it. When we have the paperwork finished, we’d like to bring it by later on and have you sign it. We’ll call first if that’s acceptable?”

To their credit, the Detectives didn’t take my response personally but had responded quite professionally.

I felt bad about being short with them. After all, it wasn’t their fault I was shot. I guess I was feeling guilty about being caught up in self-pity. They were right! It really could have been much worse and I really was very lucky to be alive and in one piece. I could have ended up ball-less or worse dead! After I decided to swallow my pride, admitted to him that he was right, and apologized for my rudeness, they both left just as the nurse returned to discharge me.

I had spent two days in the hospital and despite what had happened there, I was still looking forward to going home right up to the moment I walked in the door.

Until then it really hadn’t hit me. I guess the sight of my blood on the living room floor was what did it or, maybe it was just all the medication they had been pumping into me for the last two days. But, when I saw the dried bloodstain on the floor, I suddenly became nauseous. I barely made it to the bathroom in time.

After I had finished emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet and rinsed the taste out of my mouth, I made up my mind that I was just going to have to deal with what had happened and headed back into the living room.

When I got there, I sat on the couch and just stared at my favorite chair trying to think of what to do next and tried to put the image of ‘King’ getting his knob polished by my soon to be ex-wife out of my mind.

Finally I decided to call my boss and explain to him why I hadn’t been to work that day and that I would need the rest of the week off. I could tell that he wasn’t happy from the tone of his voice, but what the hell, I had enough sick days saved up to have open heart surgery, a hip replacement and a carpal tunnel release and still not make a sizable dent in them.

When I hung up the phone, I checked both the caller ID log and answering machine messages. There were none. Any regrets I had about not being at work instantly disappeared when I realized that my boss didn’t even care enough to call and find out why I wasn’t at work.

I got my laptop, went into the bedroom and began looking up divorce attorneys on the Internet. Several calls later I found one that looked promising named Howard Booth.

To my good fortune, Mr. Booth was just starting his practice. Personally, I like lawyers that are not long out of law school and eager to get started. Things are still fresh in their mind and they tend to work cheaply. When he offered to come by and discuss the case with me I made up my mind that unless he came across like a total idiot I was going to hire him.

True to his word, Howard showed up at about 2:00 PM that afternoon. He seemed very concerned and asked if I was absolutely sure that I really wanted a divorce–that is, until he heard what had happened. About three hours and several forms later he left, seemingly quite pleased at having a new client.

Once he was gone, and after I refilled the icepack I was using to elevate the pain near my testicles, the doorbell rang. Icepack still in hand, I opened the door.

I was greeted with a lovely smile belonging to Margo Wilson, an old girlfriend whom I hadn’t seen in about twenty years.

“Hi, Margo,” I said as I smiled, then added, “Long time no see!” I was genuinely happy to see a familiar face.

Margo was standing there in one of those pastel colored uniforms that many women now working in doctor’s offices wear. Normally, this attire is about the most unflattering thing for any woman to have on. But she made it look good, which is a tough thing for any woman to pull off.

As I greeted her, I couldn’t help but notice that even though she had to be at least forty-two, she had hardly changed a bit. And, to my pleasant surprise was as beautiful as ever. Hell, if anything, the years had made her look even more beautiful.

I was about to tell her so but before I could get the words out, she wrapped her arms around me, gave me a gentle hug and said in that sexy British accent of hers, “I heard what happened to you; how are you doing, Kent Honey?”

“I’ll get by,” I said to her. “I’m sorry, I’m being a poor host. Would you like to come in and sit down for a while?” I asked.

She must have noticed the icepack in my hand because she said to me, “You should be sitting down, Honey! Do you need me to refill with ice for you?”

“No, thanks. I just filled it a minute ago.” The ever growing pain in my scrotum told me I did not want to dwell too much on how beautiful she was. I said to her, “The living room’s this way,” and motioned in the direction of the living room.

After she saw the bloodstain on the floor, she stood there in silence as her face turned red with anger. Finally she proceeded to the couch and sat down.

Once she was sitting, I sat down in my favorite chair and lay the icepack on my right thigh. I wasn’t about to set it in my crotch in front of her.

Before I could say anything, she jumped up from the couch, took the icepack from my thigh and very gently set it in my lap. “Don’t be shy.” She said, “I deal with these kinds of things all the time.”

‘How did she find out? And, for that matter, how could she possibly deal with these kinds of things all the time? Is there some kind of an epidemic of whackos out there running around trying to blow guys balls off?’ I thought to myself.

As if reading my mind, she answered me; “I’m a nurse now. I work for Dr. Jennings. When I received your chart from the hospital and saw you were shot, I just had to come over and see how you were doing. I hope you don’t mind my intrusion?”

For the first time since I was shot in the scrotum I felt embarrassed about it. I must have blushed because she said to me, “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Honey, I told you I deal with these kind of things all the time. We have lots of men come into the office to receive vasectomies; it’s nothing new to me.“

I guess my embarrassment turned to anger because I said flippantly, “I didn’t get a vasectomy, I got shot!” As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted saying them.

I had just started saying so when she cut me off and softly said in a most soothing voice, “It’s OK, Kent, I understand. I’d be pissed off if I were you too. I know you must be tired after everything that has happened. Have you had anything to eat?”

She was right, I was angry, very tired and I hadn’t eaten since leaving the hospital. It occurred to me that I was indeed hungry.

“I am kind of tired and the last thing I remember eating was breakfast at the hospital,” I replied.

She frowned and said, “Well, then that’s convenient since I haven’t had dinner yet either. I know this really nice Italian restaurant near here that delivers. You still like Italian food don’t you?” I nodded affirmatively. She continued, “Then why don’t I order something from it and you go lie down for a cat-nap until the food arrives?”

“Sounds good to me. But I get to pay,” I insisted.

Protesting, she said, “No, we’ll have none of that! It was my idea so I get to pay! After all, I showed up at your doorstep as an uninvited guest. So you have no obligation to feed me! Now you go rest and I’ll wake you when it gets here!”

It had been a long day. I was too tired to argue with her so I showed her where the remotes for the TV and satellite were before heading to the master bedroom to retire for my nap.

As I lay there trying to fall asleep, I recalled the good times we had sharing an apartment together with two other friends back in our college days some twenty-five years ago. We had been good friends but things had remained strictly platonic between us.

I was so serious back in those days about getting an education and going to work that I purposely avoided having a social life. It occurred to me as I drifted off to sleep that I couldn’t recall seeing a wedding ring on her finger.

About an hour later I was awakened by the sound of Margo’s sweet voice softly calling me from the doorway.

I remember as I walked through the living room noticing that she had cleaned up the blood from the floor. You couldn’t even tell that anything had ever happened there. I could even hear the sounds of the washer and dryer going in the laundry room.

We sat down at the dinning room table and started eating as we began catching up on old times.

She told me she had been married until her husband had a midlife crisis. He left her for a young girl half his age only to be dumped by the girl two months later for a younger man. I couldn’t help but laugh when she told me that when he came back to her begging forgiveness she told him to go ‘wank’ himself. That was six years ago. Margo also told me that when the last of their three children had joined the Coast Guard and left the ‘nest’, she re-entered the work place. She had been working for Dr. Jennings for about ten years now.

After listening to the other women in the office talking about their bad experiences in dating, and then observing of some of the things she had seen in Dr. Jennings office, she decided to remain single and take a break from relationships.

Considering what had just happened to me, I could see where she was coming from.

She asked me if I had heard from Marcia and I told her no. I was still pissed off about being shot and I told her that if I never saw Marcia again it would be too soon. I felt the need to explain why so I told her the whole story about what had happened.

Margo listened intently and then when I was finished, said to me, “What are you going to do? I know it’s so soon but have you given it any thought?”

“Divorce the bitch!” I said angrily. I actually regretted saying the words. I looked at Margo for a moment and said, “What’s happening to me? Three days ago I was as deeply in love with her as a man could be. Now, I don’t think I’d care if the police found her dead body laying in a gutter.”

Margo took her hand and placed on mine and said to me, “It’s only natural to feel conflicted, Kent.

The woman you loved betrayed you with another man and left you for dead. I know it hurts, but time really will ease the pain. You’ve got a week off from work; take the time to recover both physically and mentally. Don’t try to hurry back. Whatever you do, don’t try to pretend that nothing has happened. It will just hit you much harder later. But most importantly, try to get out of this house as much as possible. There are too many reminders here. It helps. Trust me; I know.”

She looked at her watch, reached into her purse and retrieved a business card; then wrote something on it. Afterwards, she said to me, “This is Dr. Jennings’ business card and I have written my number on the back. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything or just if you need someone to talk to. I’ve got to be at work early tomorrow morning and have to be going but I will call you about noon and see how you are doing. Now hand me that icepack and let me refill it before I leave.”

I did and when she came back with the icepack I escorted her to the door. After another hug she was gone and I was left once more alone in the house with just my thoughts to keep me company.

I decided to try to take my mind off of everything that had happened by paying some bills that I knew were about do. I got my laptop and logged onto my bank’s site. I was shocked at how low the balance on our checking account was.

After looking at the transactions log, I could see that Joyce had been making regular cash withdrawals every week in the amount of two hundred dollars for almost the last four months, not to mention the unusually high debits paid to some rather overpriced local restaurants during the same time period.

It occurred to me that I better take a look at our savings account too. Except for six thousand dollars, it was almost empty. After my anger subsided, I logged into my broker’s server and looked at my mutual funds; they were still untouched. I mentally made a note to call both my bank and broker in the morning and remove all access she had to our accounts. Then I thanked God that Joyce did not get at the mutual funds I had been contributing to for the last several years where most of what you laughingly call my wealth was.

The signs were all there! I just didn’t see them. For one thing, Joyce and I had not been intimate for almost four months. At the time, I attributed it to the combination of my not being home enough and Joyce getting her periods. I realize now that it was no coincidence that Joyce ‘cut me off’ at just about the same time ‘King’ showed up in town.

But I didn’t know all this at the time, and while I might be able to add numbers in hexadecimal, I simply couldn’t add one slime ball plus one cheating wife and come up with one affair!

I know it sounds a little preposterous but you have to understand that at the time, between server upgrades, mass workstation shuffles and a host of other major projects I had been putting in so much overtime at work that I had been both too tired and stressed to pay attention to what was happening at home.

‘Well,’ I thought, ‘I hope she enjoys it. It will be the last thing she ever gets from me!’
It had been a long day and I was both exhausted and severely pissed. After I shutdown my laptop, I took a shower and went to bed. Once there, I finally found the peaceful rest of sleep.

Chapter Four – “A New Beginning”

The next morning I was awakened by a call from Howard Booth telling me that he had filed the papers with the court that morning. He must have been up all night working on them! I told him how she had cleaned out my accounts. He said not to worry and that he would use every trick in the book to see to it that she never got another thing from me again.

I was still a bit sore but definitely feeling better so I decided to go to a local eatery and have breakfast. While I wasn’t at the time interested, I was still flattered by the amount of attention I was getting from the rather cute waitress I had.

By the time I left the restaurant, I was in a much better mood than I had been in the day before so I decided instead of calling my bank that I would just go by.

An hour later I had closed our joint accounts, opened a new account in my own name and deposited the remaining money from both the checking and savings account into the new one. I called the broker from the bank and let her know I what I need and asked her how long it would take to process the paperwork. She told me to come by and that she would have the papers be ready by the time I got there. You’ve got to love quality service!

The phone was ringing when I walked in the door and I picked it up just before the answering machine caught it.

It was Margo. “Had lunch yet, Kent?” she asked.

I looked at the clock and sure enough, it was noon sharp! Wondering where the time had gone, I answered her, “Nope, just got in. I haven’t had time to make anything yet.”

“Feel like going out? Or have you got plans already?” She inquired.

I looked around the house and thought about it for a second. I really didn’t want to be home just yet. “Sure, but this time I pay. OK?”

“Want me to pick you up or would you rather meet somewhere?” She responded.

Trying to think of someplace nice that was close to where she worked I asked her, “Can you meet me a Stonewall’s on Tenth Street in about ten minutes?”

We met; we ate and spent more time talking about old times. And while I didn’t think of it at the time, it was our first date together, one of many that we would disguise under the pretense of rekindling our friendship over the next few months.

Chapter Five – “Legal Maneuvering”

It had been two months since I was shot and I had returned to work. I found out that the company I worked for had been bought and all the unallocated stock in their Employ Stock Option program was going to be disbursed to the employees according to some bizarre formula management had worked out.

When all was said and done, because of my time and pay-grade, I would end up with about two million dollars in stock. I had to immediately reinvest it into some form of retirement fund or Uncle Sam would eat me alive in taxes.

The first thing I did was to call Howard and tell him about it. He told me not to tell anyone else about it yet and told me that if I got a call from the police regarding Joyce to call him immediately. Not to talk to them or her unless he was present. I was confused, but he was the lawyer and I figured he knew what he was doing.

As luck would have it I got a call two days later from Detective Rollins telling me that ‘King’ and Joyce had been found. Since the detective asked me to come down to the station, I called Howard after hung up the phone. Howard told me to go on down to the police station and that he would meet me there.

When I got there Howard was already waiting for me. As soon as I walked in the door, he took me aside and whispered to me, “How badly do you want to get back at your ex-wife?”

“I just want her out of my life for good.” I said earnestly.

He smiled and said to me, “That’s what I was hoping you would say. Let me handle this. I think you will be happy.”

Then, as Detective Rollins came over towards us Howard walked up to him and asked to speak to him alone for a second.

I sat in the lobby wondering what was going on for almost an hour when Howard came back out, briefcase in hand and a shit-eating grin that ran from ear to ear on his face.

He opened his briefcase, took out some papers and handed them to me.

“What’s that?” I asked.

Opening the papers, he turned to the last page and pointed to a signature on the bottom line and said, “That my friend is your signed uncontested divorce in which your soon-to-be ex-wife agrees to accept money taken as her divorce settlement. And, this is a copy of a plea agreement she just made with the district attorney’s office in which she agrees to testify against ‘King’ in return for the attempted murder charges being dropped against her.”

“How the hell did you manage to pull that off?” I asked in astonishment.

Still smiling, he said to me, “First, I told Detective Rollins that you had hired me to represent your wife and then I demanded to see her. Then, when I got her alone, I told her that you would not testify against her if she would sign the divorce papers and agree to testify against ‘King’. She went for it! After that I told Detective Rollins that she was willing to testify in exchange for immunity from prosecution.”

“Is that legal?” I asked him.

He stepped close enough to whisper again, “Just between you and me, legal yes. Someone will have a hard time proving a conflict of interests as I represented both my clients to the best of my ability. You got your divorce and she stays out of jail. Ethical? Not in a pig’s eye but sometimes ethics have nothing to do with justice? When I explained to her that this was a state in which the party found guilty of adultery takes nothing from the marriage, she realized there was no reason to fight the divorce and every reason to agree to it. I’m just sorry that you had to lose as much as you did. By the way, you will never see a bill from me for representing her so don’t look for one.”

And just like that, Joyce was out of my life forever. Howard told me she didn’t even shed a tear when ‘King’ pled guilty and accepted a fifteen years sentence for shooting me. Ain’t love grand?

One month later I was a free man in every aspect.

Not only had I received the finalized divorce papers in the mail the previous Friday, thus freeing me from the bounds of matrimony, but I had just left my job for the last time secure in the knowledge that that very morning the E.S.O.P money had already been transferred into my retirement account, freeing me from the bonds of economic servitude.

It took a great deal of self-restraint when I left to keep from telling my boss exactly what he could do with my job.

I had already decided to supplement my monthly income by setting up a website and selling software via downloads on the Internet.

For the first time in years, I felt like I didn’t have a care in the world when I walked into Dr. Jennings’s office that Friday afternoon for my three-month follow-up after the shooting.

Chapter Six – “The Collection”

A week before I had delivered the requisite sperm sample to the lab at the hospital. I was there to find out definitively whether I was impotent.

It was the beginning of a long holiday weekend and Margo told me I was to be the last appointment of the day and we had plans to go out to dinner after she closed up the office.

I didn’t have to wait long when I got there, the waiting room was already empty and when I was met by Margo personally, it occurred to me that the rest of the staff must have already left.

She seemed to force a smile when she whispered “Good luck” as she led me to the doctor’s office.

When I got there, he greeted me politely and asked me to sit down. I heard the sound of the door closing softly behind us as he started speaking, “The test results are in and they are 100 percent conclusive. I am sorry to tell you, Mr. Collins, that as I feared, you are unable to father a child.”

“Well, that’s that.” I said to him.

He seemed surprised by my response. He looked up at me and said, “Most men your age would not handle this so well; do you mind telling me why you are not upset by the news?”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about it over the last few months. It won’t change anything to let it bother me, and I can’t change what has happened. If I do meet a woman who loves me, the one thing she will have to do is accept that this is the way I am. Odds are, at this stage in my live, any woman who is interested in me most probably will either have had children of her own or not want them.”

He considered my words and then said, “That’s a very practical way of looking at things, Mr. Collins. Thank you for taking the time to explain it to me. Now if you don’t have any questions, I have to be leaving.” He pressed a button on a panel on his desk and then added, “Margo will process you out. I hope you have a happy life.” And with that, he stood, shook my hand, put on his jacket, picked up my file and began walking me towards the door to his office just in time for Margo to open it from the other side. He handed her the file and walked past her. As he did he wished her a happy holiday weekend.

Just as Margo and I got to the nurse’s station, I heard a door behind us close and realized we must be alone in the building.

She looked at me and I knew what she was thinking without her asking. I simply responded by taking my left hand and making a thumbs down motion. When she saw it she put the file she was holding and wrapped her arms around me and said to me softly, “I’m so sorry, Honey; they should have cut that bloody wanker’s balls off for what he did to you!”

I put my arms around her, looked her straight in the eyes and said to her, “I’m not! I don’t have to be able to make a baby to love a woman.” I had just begun to kiss her when I heard a sultry female voice behind me say, “How romantic?”

It was followed by male voice saying, “I told you we should have waited a few more minutes; now there’s two to tie up instead of one.”

Seemingly ignoring us, the female said to her male companion, “From the looks of it, I think if we had we probably would have found those to wrapped in each other’s arms and moaning in ecstasy on one of the examination room tables.”

Margo and I were both surprised by the sound of unfamiliar voices coming from behind us and we turned around to see who was talking and there, standing before us, was a man and a woman.

The unknown woman was a buxom full figured brunette; about five foot eight inches tall and had long wavy hair that came down at least six inches past her shoulders. What could be seen of her face indicated that there was a quite beautiful woman behind the mask.

The male standing beside her was about six feet tall, had curly jet black hair and a beefy muscular body somewhat like that of a professional football player. The fake black beard and mustache he was wearing looked like it had come from a dime store Halloween costume.

Were they both now pointing pistols at us, I would have laughed at the utter obscurity of his disguise. In his other hand, the man was holding a large canvas bag similar to that used by workmen to carry their tools.

They were both dressed in white lab coats and each was wearing a cheap plastic Lone Ranger mask on their faces.

Embarrassed by the strangers statement, a blushing Margo said to them, “If you’ve come for the drugs we don’t keep enough here to make it worth your while and the prescription pads are useless to you because all the druggist now electronically verify every prescription before filling it so you’re wasting your bloody time.”

“First, before we go any farther, you may call me Ms. White and my companion here Mr. Black. And so there’s no confusion, we aren’t here for the drugs. We’re here to steal the good Doctor’s collection!” responded the female intruder.

A strange look suddenly came over Margo’s face and she said, “What collection?”

“Don’t play coy with me. I happen to know that you have been signing for the shipments he’s been receiving.” Responded the buxom female.

Margo fidgeted nervously as she said to the beautiful bandit, “I don’t know what you could possibly be talking about.” Margo said nervously. I know I wasn’t convinced and I wondered if the two robbers were?

“I told you don’t play coy with me. We’ve been watching you for months so take us to where he has it hidden; or, do I need to see if you have any sodium pentothal in one of these medicine cabinets around here and ask you both after it has had a chance to kick in?” The female bandit threatened.

Without hesitation, Margo replied to her, “That won’t be necessary. I’ll show you where it is. Just don’t hurt us.”

“Now that we’ve cleared that up, by all means, lead the way!” Ms. White said as she motioned down the hallway with her pistol.

I noticed that Mr. Black set the canvas bag down on the floor before following her.

Margo led us all to the doctor’s office and then inside. When we were all inside, she said to Mr. Black, “You will need to close the door. It can’t be accessed unless it’s closed.”

He looked over at Ms. White who nodded to him whereupon he closed it behind him.

Once Mr. Black had closed the door, Margo walked over to the bookcase that was behind the doctor’s desk and removed a very large volume of what appeared to be a medical journal. Then, reaching her hand into the vacant space on the shelf, she seemed to turn something. When she did the wall holding the bookshelf to begin pivoting to one side just enough to create a four foot wide opening revealing a dark room beyond.

“Let’s all see the goodies. After you.” Ms. White said triumphantly.

With Margo once more leading the way, we all entered the room. She stopped for a second, then there was a click and the room was unexpectedly filled with light.

I stood there momentarily as my eyes took in the contents of the now illuminated room.

It was massive; the room must have been at least fifteen feet wide and seventy-five feet long. While the very fact that it had remained undetected was unique, what stood out the most were the room’s contents, for running from one end to the other were four very long shelves.

Each shelf must have contained tens of thousands of vibrators, dildos and other device designed for self stimulation. I could tell that some were very old and other brand new.

I looked over at Margo and said, “How long have you know this was here?”

“Oh, I don’t know. About six years now.” She replied uncomfortably. “A shipment came in just as I was getting ready to go home one Friday when the doctor was supposed to be on vacation. He always unpacked the supply shipments personally. I just thought he wanted to make sure the count was right so I never questioned it. But with him out of the office, I decided to open it and restock the medical supplies myself so he wouldn’t have to do it first thing the following Monday morning.

He walked in just as I was about to call the vendor and report what I thought was a shipping error. When he asked me to hang up the phone, I began to realize that there was no error at all. I told him so and he confessed that he had been collecting the stuff for years. He begged me not to tell anyone about it. He said if it ever got out it would ruin his reputation. As he’s a damn good doctor, I didn’t see any reason not to his keep collection a secret. At first, he would ask me to sign for the occasional shipments when he wasn’t here, after a while, I was helping him catalog and file them.”

“Excuse me,” interrupted the female felon, “did you say you have been cataloging all this?”

It was obvious that Margo did not want to respond to the buxom bandit’s inquiry when she said, “Yes.”

“Computer or hard-copy?” Came the sultry voice once more.

When Margo replied “Both,” I could tell from the tone of her voice that Margo was becoming increasingly annoyed by having to assist the bandits. Then she added, “He keeps one hard-copy here and another in a safety deposit box for the insurance company.”

Margo continued, “Anyway, I had a lot of time on my hands with the divorce and the kids gone. At first, it was a way to pass the time away. But as time went on, I guess his hobby became my hobby. This collection is quite fascinating, actually. Do you know some of these are over two hundred years old? Why there is even a polished wooden vibrator that used to belong to Cleopatra in the glass case on the back wall!”

I had been in adult novelty stores but had never seen a collection this large. “This collection is huge, Margo! How long has he been accumulating it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. For about the last twenty years or so. It seems he got the idea in medical school. It turns out that ever since the days of Hippocrates doctors used to treat ‘hysterical’ patients, women, by massaging the clitoris until they reached ‘paroxysm’ (orgasm).

In the 19th century it became a treatment for those diagnosed with hysteria and neurasthenia. It was a big money maker for the doctors.

Probably to save the wear on there hands that manually stimulating the clitoris was causing, they began experimenting with various methods and devices. Some of the early ones involved the use of spraying water to massage the clitoris.

Finally, in about 1880, a countryman of mine invented the first electric vibrator. From then on, lucky women were being buzzed to bliss in doctor’s office everywhere. But they were not the only ones; there were even vibrators for men diagnosed with certain amorphous ailments.”

She looked over at me just then and saw the look of astonishment on my face. As I was wondering how she had learned so much about the subject, she said to me nonchalantly, “Doctor Jennings loves to talk about it. I suspect the dear man knows more about than any man alive. He’s quite a scholar on the subject.”

“That’s all very interesting. I really do wish I had time to hear more about it, but Mr. Black and I have places to go and things to steal. So if you’ll kindly move to one of the examination rooms, we’ll get started and be out of your hair in no time at all.” Ms. White said energetically.

We all exited the storeroom and continued through the doctor’s office into the hallway beyond. When I noticed Mr. Black pick up the canvas bag he had been caring, I couldn’t help but worry what these two criminals had in mind for us as Margo and I entered the nearest examination room.

Chapter Seven – “The Examining Room”

“There are no locks on these doors and we can’t have you walking around free while we are filling up the truck.” Ms. White said to me. She paused a few seconds and then added, “I have to be sure that neither of you will be in a big hurry to go running outside screaming for the police at the top of your lungs. Therefore, I need both of you to take off all your clothes.”

I looked at her in disbelief, then said, “What?” followed by Margo saying, “Are you totally daft?”

“No I am not! Now take off your clothes or do I have to have Mr. Black here break your boyfriend’s arm?” she replied.

Her face now red, Margo said angrily to the vivacious villain, “Leave him alone you sodden cow! Can’t you see he’s been through enough already!”

“I’m sorry! I completely forgot where I am.” Ms. White said to me with a tone of sincere apology in her voice. She continued, “It never occurred to me that you might be a patient. I assumed you were office staff and working late.” Then turning to Margo she added, “Let me see his file”

Margo looked at her angrily and said, “It’s back at the nurses station!”

“Mr. Black, please escort this young lady back to the nurses station while she retrieves the file.” The buxom villain instructed her cohort.

They both returned about ten seconds later, Margo file in hand and the male bandit trailing not far behind.

Disgusted, Margo handed the female criminal the file.

As she took the file from Margo, Ms. White turned to me and said, “If you don’t mind, would you show me some identification.”

I retrieved my wallet from my back pocket and showed her my driver’s license.

After looking at it for a second, she began reading it. Then she said to me, “Are you alright? You’re not going to pass out on us or anything are you?”

Somewhat taken aback by the female robber’s sudden change in demeanor, I replied, “Thanks, but I’m fine. I have healed quite well. In fact, the doctor gave me a clean bill of health today. I’m in perfect condition, other than having had a .22 caliber vasectomy that is.”

“Excuse me?” The normally silent Mr. Black asked in obvious confusion.

Margo responded, “He came home early from work and was shot by the slime ball his whore of a wife was blowing. They both left him for dead.”

“That’s ex-wife Margo. The divorce papers were finalized last Friday.” I corrected.

I noticed a little smile appear on Margo’s face when she heard my words.

When the female bandit finished examining my file, she stood there with a look of both surprise and embarrassment on her face for several seconds. Finally, she looked at me and said, “While I’m honestly glad you are better, unfortunately, it leaves me no other option but to insist that you undress.”

“Is that what really happened to this guy Ms. White?” Mr. Black said to his companion, his voice portraying a tone of disbelief.

Ms. White simply nodded affirmatively.

“Damn! That’s pretty fucked up! Sorry to have to ruin your weekend buddy, but you’re both going to have to do what she says.” Mr. Black said to me.

Something told me he was both sincere in his apology and serious in his intent so I began undressing.

Margo, however, chose that moment to become combative and tried to make a lunge for Ms. White only to be caught by Mr. Black. He simply held her like a small rag doll in his powerful arms.

“Let go of me you overgrown rottweiler.” she screamed at him but he simply held her fast in his powerful arms.

Ms. White seeing that I had stopped undressing seemed to be reading my mind. I could swear she knew that I was about to spring upon her for she turned her pistol on Margo and said to me, “This is no time to be a hero Kent, she might not be as lucky as you were!”

Seeing that the pistol was now aimed at Margo, I stood motionless.

It was then that Ms. White said to Margo in a very disquieting tone of voice, “You can either behave yourself or I can go find something in the medicine cabinets to calm you down. Which will it be?”

Margo stopped struggling.

“That’s much better. Now, will you undress yourself or shall I have Mr. Black help you?” Asked Ms. White.

Margo looked back at Mr. Black who was smiling. Next she said, “Fine, just tell him to keep his wanking paws off me.”

“I think you can let her go now Mr. Black.” Ms. White said to her companion. Then she added, “Shall we try again? Why don’t you two pretend you are playing doctor together and strip?” It was plain from the way she said it that it wasn’t a question.

When I saw Margo slipping out of her dress, I began to undress myself.

The truth is that I lay awake more than one night lately wondering what she looked like beneath her clothing. While I had inwardly desired to feast upon her nude body, this was not exactly the way I wanted to do so.

Having already removed my shoes and pants, I was trying unsuccessfully not to think about her body when I was temporarily blinded by the tee-shirt as I pulled it over my head.

As I opened my eyes, I was stunned to see that she had already removed her bra and was now standing before me with the peaks of her firm bare bosom pointing straight at me.

The sight was too much for me and I instantly began sporting a raging erection. It didn’t get any small when she lowered the very sexy black lace panties she was wearing and stood there a moment later fully nude except for a pair of long white nurse’s stockings covering her legs. Even those looked gorgeous on her!

I stood there motionless trying not to gaze at her perfectly trimmed pussy until I heard the voice of Ms. White prompt, “You too lover boy, don’t be bashful, I’m sure she’s seen it all before.”

As I lowered my underpants, my erection suddenly sprang free to point directly at Margo. Wanting not to make her uncomfortable, I tried looking her directly in the eyes rather than upon her nakedness but when I did I could see she was staring intently at my hard-on.

I then heard the voice of Ms. White say; “I wouldn’t worry if I were you, lover, you’re going to make some woman very happy with that thing you’ve got there!”

I was suddenly embarrassed by the sultry villain’s comment so I dropped my eyes to stare at the floor. As I did, I couldn’t help but notice how moist Margo’s pussy lips seemed to have become.

“First Margo,” Ms. White said, “turn around and count the specs on the wall until I tell you to stop. Maybe that will keep you busy for a while.”

As Margo turned to face the wall I was provided with the most splendid view of both her sexy back and beautiful ass.

Ms. White looked said to me “OK lover boy, get up on the gurney and lay on your back.”

She then bound my wrists with one of the pairs of handcuffs. Reaching into her pocket, she produced of the half-inch wide rubber straps used to tie off arms when extracting blood. Ms. White then tied a knot in the rubber strap. The strip was now about eleven inches long with the knot about three inches away from one end. Removing a key from her pocket, she ran it through the long end until it fell upon the knot.

“This won’t work!” she said and then said to her companion, “Watch them; I’ll be right back.”

She left the room and when she returned she was holding a package containing a lipstick vibrator. Attached to the vibrator was a wired remote control. She opened the package, and shoved its contents in one of her pockets.

“Hold up two fingers of your right hand.” She told me.

When I did, she took the long length of the rubber strap, wrapped it around my thumb and tied it securely with a knot. Then she used a piece of tape to secure the lipstick vibrator just below the knot she had created.

About three inches away from the knot she tied another knot and then slid a key down the free end of the rubber strap until it rested upon the second knot. After that she said to me as she pointed to my erect penis, “Take the loop off your fingers and put it around ‘Mr. Pokey’ there. Then slide it all the way down.”

I looked at her confused for a moment until she said to me, “Hurry up, we haven’t got all day.”

Reluctantly, I slid the loop down my shaft until it rested at the base of my penis.

There I lay with the rubber strap snuggly around my cock and the lipstick vibrator resting right on top of my balls.

Ms. White then opened the remote control, removed its batteries, and then took the loose end of the piece of rubber just below the knot that was holding the key in place and slid it into the remote control’s battery compartment so that it covered one set of the battery’s contacts.

Then she jammed the batteries back into the remote control and wrapped a piece of medical tape around the remote so that they would not come out.

After which, she picked up Margo’s belt and used the medical tape to secure the remote control to the belt just below the buckle. When she was done, the end with the battery compartment was facing in my direction. Next, she tied one end of another rubber strap around the knot closest to my penis and the other end around the belt buckle leaving about two inches of slack between my penis and the buckle. She then took the loose end of Margo’s belt and laid it over the foot rail. Finally, she folded one of a sheet several times lengthwise and used it to cover everything from my pelvis to the foot rail so that my penis, the vibrator, remote control and belt could not be seen.

Ms. White next removed a six-foot piece of chain and two locks from the canvas bag lying on the floor, then wrapped one end around both my ankles before securing it with a lock.

After pulling the other end of the chain through the foot rails and wrapping it around the rail several times, she then locked it to the foot rail effecting immobilizing my legs.

Ms. White then picked up the dress from the floor and placed it on Margo’s shoulder. Then said, “You can put this back on but don’t turn around yet.”

After Margo had the dress on again, Ms. White said to her, “Lift your arms and keep them there until I tell you otherwise.

Margo did so reluctantly.

The female felon pulled another a six-foot length of chain and a lock from the canvas bag the two criminals had brought with them. She then ran the six-foot length of chain through the belt loops on Margo’s dress so that the two ends were in the back of the dress. Once the chain was in place, Ms. White used a lock to secure it like a belt around Margo leaving about three feet to hang freely towards the floor.

Picking up the free end of the chain and handing it to Margo, Ms. White said to her, “Hop up on the gurney there and straddle your boyfriend Honey so that you are facing in the direction of his feet. Oh, yeah and make sure you don’t touch that sheet there between his legs and, keep your weight off him until I say so.”

Having no idea what lay beneath the sheet, Margo did as she was told. As she sat there, the back of her dress covered my penis, and the front covered the rubber strap, remote control and part of the sheet.

Ms. White then removed a pair of handcuffs from the canvas bag on the floor and locked one end around Margo’s left wrist and the other end to the center of the left side guardrail.

Reaching across my chest, Ms. White pulled the other safety belt over Margo’s left leg, then my chest, followed by Margo’s right leg after which she secured it tightly to the right side of the bed.

The next thing Ms. White did was to unlock one of my handcuffs and pulled it under the safety belt on my chest after which she locked it once again around my

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