Tainted Love by BlackMamba

"I love you Shelby."

"Fuck you Ash."

Hey it was worth a shot.

My name is Ash. And I am about to become a statistic.

My marriage is in the shitter. Last thing I expected to be honest. Me and Shelby had a good thing going, what with all the bloody demon dicing and the dirty celebration fucking. Life was sweet. I had everything I ever wanted. A steady paycheck from our security company, a wife with an ass like two honeydew melons fighting for supremacy inside her 7 for all Mankinds , plus a great kid who idolized his dear old dad to the point of stealing my clothes and playing demon hunter with my chainsaw.

That little nut.

But for the past six months, Shelby and I couldn’t seem to get through the day with out fighting. All of a sudden she doesn’t want guns in the house and won’t talk about work around the boy. I tried to point out that the jig was up when A.J. saw Santa eat Mrs. Clause just last Christmas, but no dice. She put him in a Catholic school and shoved a bible in my face. I asked her if Jesus was faster than a sawed off double barreled 12 gauge Remington shotgun fired point blank between the eyes of a soul chomping devil baby.

Slept on the couch for a week after that one.

She suggested marriage counseling. I suggested a threesome. She agreed, but picked the six foot five UPS guy with arms as big as my thigh and a package that made the Old Lady McGee report him to the police for indecent exposure.

Yes. He was wearing pants at the time.

Needless to say I agreed to the counseling. And why shouldn’t I go out of my way for my lady love? My family means a lot to me. And there’s no way I’ll ever convince a chick this hot to suck me off in Safeway again.

Sacrifices must be made.

"Shelby, I’m sensing some hostility from you."

I nudge Shelby’s arm. "Where’d you find this guy?"

"He doesn’t listen." Shelby scoots to the right, out of my reach. I’m tempted to contradict her, since she’s the one ignoring me at the moment. But I’m trying to pick my battles. Plus she’s wearing a skirt, so I’ve got her thighs to keep me occupied.

"I’ve tried to tell him how I feel. Our life isn’t good for our son. He’s fighting at school and the teachers are really close to suspending him."

"And how do you feel about that Ash?"

She’s got the strongest thighs I’ve ever felt on a woman. Last time I went down on her she nearly snapped my head clean off.

"Ash?"

Which is a freaky way to die. Knowing Shelby, she’d come anyway since my tongue would be intact.

"Ash!"

"Ho! What? What happened?" They’re watching me with identical expressions. I get a creepy sense of déjà vu as my mother specialized in disappointed irritation. "Sorry, I got a uh…" I focus on the doctor so Shelby can’t see my eyes. "Charley horse."

"Bullshit."

"Shelby, you know I have circulation issues." I gesture towards my leg, bounce it up and down for effect. "If I sit still for more than half an hour I could clot and die." She rolls her eyes and I lean forward, towards the doctor. "You see? She doesn’t care. I just said I could die and she doesn’t care."

"Don’t change the subject!" Shelby uncrosses her legs (momentary distraction) and leans forward like me. Power play. She’s trying to get the guy back on her side. "I tell him these things about our son but all he cares about is work."

"Work is what keeps us from becoming demon Snackables." The doctor blinks at me behind thick glasses. From Shelby’s panicked stare I’m guessing she hasn’t told him the whole truth about what we do. "Figuratively speaking of course."

"I’m not sure I get the metaphor." The guy is wiping his brow, twitching in the chair. He’s staring at me like he wants to hit the nutjob button on his speed dial. I look at Shelby who won’t meet my eyes.

She’s in hard core bitch mode. Just leaves me twisting in the wind.

"It’s uh..well I take care of them. Bring home the bacon…bread…all the…groceries. So if we died of starvation…we’re sinners so...we’d….burn in hell…"

"Oh shut up." The doctor looks at Shelby who lowers her voice to a "listen to me instead of this slobbering weenie" type purr. "All he ever talks about is work. It’s taking over our life. I just…I want more."

"What exactly is it you do Mr. Williams?"

"I’m a…" I cough. Clear my throat. Damn near piss my pants before she saves me.

"He’s a roach exterminator."

I use the term "save" loosely.

"It’s not that specific." I force a laugh. "I mean…I do more than just…kill roaches."

"Not that I can see."

"I try to make sure they don’t come back."

"Which they always do."

I turn to face her. "What the hell am I supposed to do about that Shelby? You knew the roaches liked me before we got married."

"I’m starting to think you like them just as much. I am sick of roaches at my breakfast table, at my job, and in my motherfucking bedroom while I’m trying to get off with my husband!"

The doctor’s voice floated towards them. "You have roaches in your bedroom?"

"Oh they’re in our bed." Shelby laughs. "I’m starting to think that’s what gets him in the mood now. He goes to work and comes home covered in roach blood, and then wants me to go down on him."

"It helps me relax." I reach over to slap the doctor’s arm. "You know what I’m saying right? Man comes home after a hard day’s work, I don’t think a beer, some Wheel of Fortune and a blow job is too much to ask am I right?" I look at Shelby. "Don’t pretend you don’t like it."

"That’s not the point."

"Oh I think it is."

The doctor clears his throat. "No Mr. Williams, it’s not."

"Don’t yell at him." Shelby rubs her eyes and looks away. "I should have known this wouldn’t work."

Shit. The bitch face is gone and now she’s…fuck, I think she’s going to cry. "Shelby…" I touch her arm. She doesn’t move away this time. "Snuggleface, look at me…"

The door opens and the receptionist steps inside. She’s got that blank "can I help you" smile going which makes me wanna smack her. "Dr. Lemon, your two o’clock is here."

"Thank you Ann."

"Hey wait." I rub Shelby’s back. "We were just making progress here."

"It’s okay Ash." Shelby turns to face me. "Maybe we should just…admit that it’s over."

"Oh come on, baby. We’re good together right? We’re a team you and me…Ash and Shelby…we always have been…"

"I’m sorry Mr. and Mrs. Williams but you are out of time."

I raise a finger. "Hold up Doc…." I reach for her hand. "Look, even though it might look that way from the outside, I’m not perfect…"

"I really wish you could stay a while longer." The doctor closes his file. He rises to his feet and shrugs. "But I’m hungry and there are patients waiting."

"Ash, I know you’re not perfect." Shelby brushes away a tear. "I just wish you would listen to me sometimes. I really want what’s best for A.J."

"Me too…"

"So." The doctor straightens his jacket. "Whose soul shall I eat first?"

I wave him away. "Yeah, in a minute…"

I freeze. Shelby and I both turn to see his eyes have rolled back into his head. He smiles, flashing scraggly yellow teeth and the room is filled with a deadite cackle as we dive behind the couch.

"You cannot run! Your souls are MIIIIINE!!!"

I thump Shelby’s arm. "Seriously, where the hell did you find this guy?"

I reach under the couch and pull out my sawed off. Shelby stares at me in shock. "You brought that thing to marriage counseling?"

I snap a round into the chamber. "Don’t be jealous." I raise my shirt and reveal two small pistols inside my waistband. "Take the baby guns."

She’s pouting but she takes them anyway. The couch goes flying as the demon doc moves in for the kill. Shelby takes out both eyes, and then lodges a bullet in his throat. He’s down, but not for long. I raised the shotgun and shove the barrel under his nose. His voice deeper, twisted into deep demon growl.

"You’re already dead."

I pump a round into the chamber.

"And you’re overpriced."

I pull the trigger and his brain rains hell juice over the Persian rug. The headless body crumples to the ground as I twirl the gun on one finger. Shelby snatches it from my hand and aims for the thing’s heart. She fires another round which makes me roll my eyes.

"Gee, kind of easy pickings seeing as how he was already dead."

"I saw a twitch." She hands me back the gun. There’s a smear of blood on her cheek and I reach up to wipe it away.

"There was no twitch."

She reaches for my belt. "I know a fucking twitch when I see one."

I reach for her skirt and shove it up to her waist. "Headless things don’t twitch."

"Why not?"

I palm both breasts while she reaches inside my underwear. "Because they don’t have a head."

There wasn’t much talking after that. I managed to lock the office door while I was buried inside her mouth, both boys cupped in the palm of her hand. We fucked six ways to Sunday in that office. My tongue up her snatch while she squirmed over the dead guy’s desk. Her jerking me off while she bounced up and down on my fingers.

Me on top

Her on top.

From the back.

Upside down.

Yeah, you read that right.

We hit positions you only read about in Life magazine. The only thing that stopped us was the sound of sirens in the distance, our usual cue to leave. But the freaky sex continued once we made it the house. And afterward we had a long talk about our marriage, what went wrong and how we’d make it right.

I promised to take a bigger interest in our son’s education.

She promised to wear the red thong twice a week instead of one.

I got rid of a few guns.

She got rid of a few granny panties.

Win, win all around.

You see folks, everyone hits a rough patch or two. Marriage is serious business and takes a lot of hard work. But the key is compromise and communication. Paying attention to her needs instead of just your own. And above all, remembering one very important thing.

Love may be a battlefield. But counseling is for molesters and crybabies.

Salute the King baby.

The End