Fit to be Tied

"You aint Metallica babe."

"Whu..what? What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's simple. I was a fan of Metallica way back in the day; before the black album. I can remember my brother jamming those albums and letting me listen to them with him. And then Metallica had to sell out. They got more worried about making money and getting songs on the radio than they were their original fans."

"Then the band who made a Six dollar EP and a fifteen dollar video to keep their less moneyed fans in the game, sue Napster almost out of existence. I gave up on them because they became disgusting sell out whores. But I can still listen to any of the first four albums and be transported back to a time when all was good."

"I don't get it," said Jesse. "What does Metallica have to do with me?"

"I can listen to old Metallica and everything is fine. I can't go back to a version of you that hasn't betrayed me. I can't look at you and be transported to a time when things were good. All I want to do when I look at you is vomit and cry. You broke my fucking heart. All I can see is an image of the two of you, naked in his room. His hand in your crotch and your head is thrown back like you are having the most intense orgasm of your fucking life. I can't access a version of you that hasn't been molested by the fucking Stay Puft Marshmallow man."

"Do you have any idea how it feels to know someone you loved and trusted preferred to have sex with a 300 pound tub of shit instead of the man she swore to love? Fuck! I can't even tell myself you traded up."

"Hey. I don't see a need to insult me..." Brett started to say before Donny cut him off.

"Fuck you, you fat ass piece of shit. You gad damned lucky that calling you fat is the only thing I am doing to you." Jesse had started to stammer out another apology and Donny stopped her. "I don't want your apologies. I don't want your pity or your sympathy cause it aint gonna prove a thing to me. I just want the agreement signed and for this whole thing to be done. I want to move on with my life."

"Don't I get a say in this? I think I should get some input into our marriage. I think we should see a marriage counselor, and a couple's therapist. We can get past this."

Donny let out an exasperated sigh. "You just don't get it. I can't trust you. It kills me because I love you, but I can't live knowing that I would be constantly wondering if you were out fucking someone. You deserve someone who will trust you. But when you find that person Jess, talk to them before you decided what they will or won't like. It might save your next relationship."

Donny stood up and walked toward the door. An odd keening sound issued from Jesse. "I want a relationship with you. And only you." Donny hung his head. For a moment it seemed as if he was going to say something, but all he did was open the door and walk out into the lobby.

Anne entered the room a few minutes later to find Brett consoling a broken hearted Jesse.

*****

Houston TX 2 years later.

Dr. Jesse Hudson received her ID badge and welcome kit from the front table of the symposium. As the Head of sexual/couple's therapy for the Las Vegas Mental Health Professionals system she was required to attend these symposiums.

She had been offered the job in Las Vegas just weeks after her divorce had become final. She had never sent her resume out to anyone and was puzzled as to why they had it in their system.

All they knew was that an application had been filled out and that copies of all of her licenses and resume were attached. "You responded right away to our e-mail so we are excited to ask you to come for an interview."

Jesse was embarrassed to admit that she hadn't applied for the job, so she made arrangements to do a video conference interview. She immediately called Brett and cussed him out for doing it. He claimed that he had no clue what she was talking about, and if he would apply anyone to a job like that it would be him. The only other person who knew her well enough to do this would be Donny, but she didn't think he had the computer skills do it.

She did the interview and within hours she got a call from Dr. Robert Sanchez, the Head of Human Resources asking her to come and visit the facilities and meet the interview team in person. They paid her airfare and hotel for a week and gave her token cards to gamble at the casinos if she wished.

She flew to Las Vegas and toured the hospital and met all of the staff. The second day they asked her to sit for a formal interview. She spent the next couple of days lounging by the pool and fending off many male admirers.

On the evening before she was to fly home, Dr. Sanchez called her and asked if she would stop by his office before she flew home. She said she would, and was there bright and early the next morning.

"Thank you for coming Dr. Hudson. Before you left I wanted to formally offer you the position here. We of course will cover your relocation expenses, and will rent you a condominium until you can find permanent housing."

She had planned on asking for a few weeks to think about it, but as he made the offer she decided it was too good to turn down and accepted. A month later she was seeing patients in Las Vegas.

It wasn't long before she moved into the Head Dr.'s position, overseeing all of the therapists in the system. She was making better money than had been possible in her old practice, but the only down side was having to attend every symposium and seminar given in the field.

This year's symposium on sexual deviancy, or Kink Fest as it had come to be known in the therapist circles, was held in Houston. She knew she wouldn't see Brett here. He had been caught masturbating over therapy transcripts by a senior member of the hospital staff a few weeks after her divorce had been final.

The woman who caught him had him brought up on ethics charges and he lost his license. Three months later he was able to cut a deal and get his license back. He wasn't allowed to practice privately any longer and became a staff doctor at an institution in North Dakota.

Jesse's employers had given her an itinerary of lectures and symposiums to attend while she was in Houston. On the fourth and final day she was free to browse at her leisure.

She listened in on an erotic writer's debate. There seemed to be a heated discussion about cheating wives, wimp husbands and cuckolds. She left the discussion when a group of wife watchers joined the fracas and found herself gravitating toward the BDSM section.

She hadn't dated anyone since her divorce. She and Brett had played a couple of times, and had gone to dinner once; but he had started trying to talk her into a sexual relationship. She told him that she wasn't ready for that.

When he tried to penetrate her during their last rope session she stopped seeing him altogether. She tried to remain friends with him and called him from time to time, but that was all. When he brought up the subject of them playing again, she would simply tell him no.

She had found a group in Las Vegas that discussed various kinks. She met a guy at one meeting that was getting a divorce because his wife wouldn't indulge his fantasies of tying her up. She had called him a pervert and then took the kids and left.

She got to talking to him and they decided to try a rope session when she got back from Houston. There were a few other guys in the group that had similar fantasies, so she knew she'd be able to find a new play partner, and maybe even a new life partner.

When Donny left their house, he had moved into a house in Littleton that his father had bought. He was going to renovate it and then move out when his dad retired and moved from Chicago.

She'd heard from an old friend that Donny had married a woman that he had worked with. It hurt her heart to know that he'd moved on. They had bought a nice house in Arvada and he'd made her a partner in the business. Donny had distanced himself from all of their mutual friends so she rarely heard any more about him.

As she was approaching the BDSM area she saw a familiar face. Sitting at a table full of books was Kate Simon, Brett's former roommate. There were a couple of people milling around the table so she stood behind them and waited. Finally they moved on and she approached the table.

"Hi Kate."

"Dr. Hudson, how are you?"

"I'm well. I didn't know you were practicing again."

"I'm not. I had to stop working when I was pregnant and I wrote this to keep myself from going stir crazy." Jesse felt a slight pang in her heart about Kate having a baby. She had entertained the thought of having kids with Donny before she'd messed her marriage up. She noticed the ring on Kate's finger and longed to wear one again.

"You look great Kate. I don't know many women who snap back after having babies." Kate had always had a body that would make men drool. If anything her body was better now. Her breasts were fuller, but no amount of children would ever change those jade green eyes.

"I've worked hard to snap back, damn hard. Would you like a copy of my book?"

"Sure. How much?"

"For you? Free."

Kate handed her a copy and smiled. "It's been good to see you Dr. Hudson."

The line behind Jesse was building up again so she bade Kate farewell and went off to see what the BDSM symposium had to offer.

Jesse read most of Kate's book on her flight back to Las Vegas. To the layperson the book might have been dull, but to those in the field it was fascinating. Several times while reading Jesse thought to herself "It's a shame she doesn't practice anymore."

When she got home that evening she finished reading the book. She read the last chapter in bed. She noticed that there was a little bio about Kate on the back cover:

Dr. Kate Simon was a one of the leading couple's therapists in America. She left private practice for personal reasons and found a new passion; construction. Dr. Simon lives with her husband (to whom she has dedicated this book) and her son DJ. Today she and her husband own and operate a successful home building business in Denver CO.

Jesse flipped to the dedication page. She read it and placed the book on her nightstand and sobbed herself to sleep. The dedication was simple: To Donald Bauer; The best husband I could ever hope for.

Fin