No Sympathy for this Devil

The words echoed in her ears, yeah, he did figure himself to be that way, a total narrcisist. The night he flung her into the refrigerator, the vacuum cleaner being thrown at her forehead. No one would believe it.

Enough was enough. Matters must be taken into her own hands. They did finally divorce, however, he never had let go - stalking her, leaving unrelentless cell phone messages, never letting her stop hearing that she had been a "fucking failure" all her life.

The years of abuse had left her mind, spirit and body fragile - almost anything could set her off into a spiraling eddy from which she thought she may not return.

He had continually operated under the radar, not breaking the law, but certainly torturous in his mindset.

There were finalization issues, monetarily and she took that moment to set up a wonderful way to at least pay him back for all the abuse she had sustained. He would not "lay her soul to waste."

They were to meet at the Zanzibar to discuss the issues that plagued her, made her resort to filling out forms for food boxes from local churches, no way to sustain "a lifesytle" that wasn't close to poverty. "Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name." She had known that name for a long time, he was Satan incarnate.

She thought as she drove to the restaurant - that she would never endure the pain of his affairs, his unsufferable verbal abuse and emotional brainwashing ever again, nor would she tolerate it from any man.

There was a scalpel in her pocketbook, loaned by a nurse friend of hers. She had read on the internet that there was a way, not unlike Lorena Bobitt, that would fix him for life. It would diminish him in a way that he wouldn't soon forget.

She arrived,looking her best - just to torture him, a dress from a consignment shop - and his eyes lit up. Dinner was minimal, as her stomach could not consume anything more than tidbits. He could not resist her look and appearance and offered to walk her to the parking garage after agreeing on how dividends would be eventually divided.

The garage was dimly lit and he escorted her to the car. He attempted to kiss her and she turned her cheek. "Would you like to talk some more?" he asked. She said, "Sure, come sit in the car for a bit." She put the radio on and he sat in the passenger's seat. "You know, despite it all, I'd love to see your cock. As I remember it was huge." He was taken back with her aggressivness and his hardness began to be evident.

"Well, unzip me," he said. "No, you unzip yourself, just lay it out for me," she replied tersely. For one time in her life there was power and it was HERS. He did so, knowing that something about his ex-wife had changed significantly. "So," she asked, "Did you put this in Christine, Rochelle, August and all of them?" He was turned on. "Yeah, I did," he replied as she massaged his engorged cock. "I'm so sorry, really I am," he moaned. "Well, my dear, I can fix that for the both of us," she purred. She was now down on her knees taking him all of him into her mouth, her hands fussing with the handbag to unleash her tool of doom to the "Satan". He ran his fingers through her hair, touched her shoulders and she was as cold as ice, not reacting, but wanting to throw up. He was groaning with the pressure she was putting on his cock. God, he wanted to cum....It was building to where he was losing control.

With her one hand she was massaging him, her mouth embedded on his cock and with the other, she took out the scapel. Despite the dimness, she knew, like every other woman where the jewels resided. He was moaning and breathing heavily. He was close. She knew it. No, unfortunately, he wasn't going to get off "one last time." She had no sympathy for this "devil". With a swift motion, she took the scalpel and started to tear into his scrotum. Blood gushed and he screamed unmercifully. "What the fuck are you doing?" "Oh my God!" He began to try to get away from her, lifting up the locks on the car door. With all her strength, she held him, sliced him with no holds barred. And there was no way he was going to walk away from this.

His Brooks Brothers silk pants were now tainted. "Holy shit, get off of me" he screamed. "No, pal, welcome to the party!" "I should have done this years ago!" He pushed on her shoulders, trying to move her away, but the gods looked down upon her as she continued to cut and cut and slice until the revelation of the moment stopped her.

She opened the car door and shoved his bloodsoaked sorry ass out. He stumbled from loss of blood, his mind completely confused. She stuck the keys in the ignition and floored it. "Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a woman of wealth and taste."