Written by NewWriterOnTheBlock.
I go to support groups.
It helps to have a community behind you, but nobody has a "Victims Of Psycho Spouses Who Cut Off Your Arm For Sexual Purposes" support group. Since VOPSWCOYAFSP doesn't exist, I go to support groups for amputees. You hear the same thing over and over and over and over again at those things. "I don't feel like a man anymore," "I miss just being able to button my shirt," "blah, blah, blah."
Yes. I am quite cynical. I have a reason to be. So, no doubt at this point you're looking for some back-story. Well, there's no best place to start than from the beginning.
It started with a car crash. My wife and I were driving back from a friend's house. I came up on a "Stop" sign. I didn't stop. Then, the Gods of Traffic smote me and my wife by magicking a speeding car into existence that T-boned us.
It was almost instantaneous. I woke up in the hospital. I had a mild concussion, no big deal. My wife though... she... changed. She hit the right side of her head pretty bad. Doctor's said she may suffer from some traumatic brain injury. But for the most part she was fine. The speedster was fine too. So, for the next few months we dealt with the law and legal bullshit. Once I paid my dues to society my wife started to act... weird.
The first sign was when I went on the computer I would find she was searching for amputee porn. At first I thought maybe she did it as a joke so I would get freaked out. Then, she started to just stare at her left arm. She would be relentless about it, too. Sometimes it was difficult to carry on a conversation with her as she just flexed her fingers and rolled her wrist around.
I was about to fall asleep, the darkness of the room was penetrating and cradled me to my dreams. But I could feel my wife's eyes were still open. They were intruders in the black room that were impossibly boisterous. Then, the question came skulking off her lips in a whisper, but resurrected me out of sleep in a boom nonetheless.
"Do you ever get the feeling that your arm isn't really your arm?"
"Wha... What, babe?" I said sleepily.
"Like, do you ever think your arm isn't yours? Like, as if it doesn't belong on your body."
"...No... Why do you say that?"
"I've... Just been thinking that this isn't really my arm."
"It's your arm, babe. It's got your tattoo on it, you remember getting that?"
"Yeah... Still..." She trailed off in a defeated tone like a child would give.
"We'll go to the doctor tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay." With that, we fell asleep. The next day, the doctor told us that this was a form of a neurological disorder called "Alien Hand Syndrome." He told us that this may develop into Apotemnophilia. Which is the unhealthy want to amputate a limb. After learning this, we of course scheduled to be seen by a specialist. I thought learning what this was would calm her down, but she started to embrace it. She would ask me to watch amputee porn with her, to tuck my arm up into my shirt so she could just see my elbow. I did it. I have no shame, I humored her.
Seeing her spread her legs and toy with herself while she touched my pretend stump was... Disturbing. She would whimper as her fingers rhythmically glided on her wet lips. As she started to get more into it, she let out pleasure-fueled bellows. She gripped me by the back of my head and shoved my pretend stump onto her wetness. She swirled and rolled her hips on my elbow until she lost herself to climax.
I never did that again. Doing it the first time was the mistake. She became crazed to do it again. I refused.
I opened the internet one day and found her searching for "Ways to Amputate a Limb By Yourself." When I saw this, my heart felt non-existent, a warmth brewed behind my eyes. After pacing around the house for twenty minutes trying to decide what to do, I called the cops to try and protect her. The only question was... Where is she?
She said she was going shopping. Her car keys were still here. I felt the bass of my heart blaring behind my ears when I saw the yellow note on the refrigerator.
"In the garage ☺"
I walked outside and saw the wooden door leading to the garage slightly askew. I nudged it open saw my wife... Minus one arm. Laying on the ground was a lifeless arm that I half expected to twitch at any moment. She was more blood than human. A dark crimson snaked its way to find the tips of my toes. The warmth of it was fiercer than any bite an actual snake could muster. It sent a coldness through my body.
Her eyes were lit up brighter than they were on our wedding day. There was so much happiness and joy radiating from that blood spattered face. A clash of gleaming, blue rings against grim, crimson droplets. Her little smirk she made reminded me of our first date. It was a shy kind of smirk, but a cute one. Dangling from her left... Stump was surgical tubing.
Her presence forcibly made me swallow a boulder. I felt like I couldn't stand with it sitting in my stomach, I wanted my knees to buckle. But I stood.
She began to walk towards me. The smack of her bare feet on blood made me want to rip my ears off and burn them. The tubing hanging from her left side was obnoxiously swinging with every step. She stopped in front of me and pushed herself up on her tippy-toes. She stumbled only slightly but still laid her gentle lips on mine. The taste of copper bombarded my tongue. Then, all I remember was her picking up a hard, metal object.
I woke up to the sound of knocks on the front door.
"State Police, open up!"
Light loudly shouted at my eyes. I blinked it away. Pain throbbed throughout my body. Across form me, was my wife. She was laying down, legs spread open. Her pink panties were pulled down to her ankles and were stretched out. In her right hand... Her only hand, she held a severed hand to her pussy. She let out excited and erotic moans that bounced off the garage's brick walls. They came out in quick, rapid spells, like her body was trying to meet a quota with moans and she was behind schedule. My eyes weakly skimmed over the hand in hers. It had a very familiar ring on its ring finger. I tried to look down, but my neck gave out and just hung. I craned it slightly to the left and saw nothing but surgical tubing, where my wife's current sex toy should have been.