It was Friday night, the moon was full and shone down brightly from a clear Alabama sky. Boyd Dunston hummed happily to himself as he turned off the main street and headed for home at ten p.m. He'd had two appointments that evening, and had sold them both, a $10,000 straight life policy to the last, and a $5,000 endowment on a new baby at the first one.
The old touch wasn't gone, after all. He still had it. The knowledge made him doubly glad, for these were the only policies he'd sold all week. Ever since that damned party, six days ago, he'd been worried sick. His guts had ached so bad at times that he was sure he was developing an ulcer. Faith's strangeness had kept him upset, unable to think about anything else.
The party had done something to her, changed her somehow. All Sunday, the day after the party, she'd kept to her bed, getting up only to go to the bathroom occasionally, not even bothering to eat. She wouldn't talk to him at all, except to give him a sharp "leave me alone," when he tried to cheer her up. And during the week it was little better. The housework went undone for the most part. She seemed to have no interest at all in making a home for them any more. He suspected that she was spending her time with Lucia, the daylight hours that she had to herself. He'd asked her about it several times, and had gotten nothing but an enigmatic smile for an answer.
And sex, or rather the absence of it, had crushed him most of all. Faith wouldn't let him get near her, let alone touch her. She'd never treated him that way before, never. Right from their honeymoon on she'd been eager to see that he got all the loving he wanted. Even when she wasn't fully in the mood, why, she still gave herself gladly and seemed to enjoy the fact that he found satisfaction through her body. But not this week.
The Goddamned party had changed all that. After Sunday she was civil to him, but insisted on a hands off policy until, as she said, "I regain my sense of balance and perspective." It had been torture for Boyd, living in the same house with her and not being able to touch her, kiss her, hug her. At night, lying side by side in bed, that was the worst. Like brother and sister, he'd thought, and knew that it couldn't go on that way for long.
But now, now it was over, and Faith was coming around. What a difference there'd been when he came home for supper. The house was neat and clean again, like a home, like their home had always been. He'd known then, the moment he walked in the front door, that Faith had found her balance, that she was once again his wife, that things would be right between them.
In the kitchen, she'd smiled sweetly at him and left her work to warmly embrace him, had poured him a cup of coffee and set him down at the table to await the meal. They'd talked, neither of them mentioning the party or the days since, while she added the finishing touches to the dessert. He'd watched her, beaming as she moved about in her frilly dress and open-toed sandals. She was the old Faith once more, the sweet, angelic girl he loved.
After supper he'd apologized for having to go out and keep the two appointments. She didn't mind, she told him, and had walked with him to the door and out to the car. She'd leaned in the open door and kissed him, telling him not to be any later than necessary, that she had a surprise for him when he got home, one that she knew he would like. He'd wanted to know what the surprise was. She wouldn't tell him, but did give him a hint. He'd find the wife he wanted waiting, she'd promised, then added sultrily, "It'll be a night you'll never forget, darling," before she shut the car door and hurried into the house.
Now, as Boyd pulled into his driveway, he felt a stirring in his loins. He stopped the car and cut the lights and engine. Glancing at the house, Boyd saw that only one light was on, the one in their bedroom. His heart beat faster as he opened the door and climbed from the car. Faith was waiting for him in bed. He could picture her lying there in her sexiest nightgown, smiling at him as he stood admiring her from the doorway. She probably had drinks already made and waiting, too.
The handle of his attachЋ case felt slippery as he walked across the lawn toward the front door. Switching it to his other hand, Boyd wiped the sweat from his damp palm on his trousers. He took the three steps in one leap and reached for the doorknob, turned it, and went into the darkened living room.
"Faith?"
"Back here, darling."
Her voice was edged with excitement. Boyd broke into a smile and set down his attachЋ case on the floor, deciding that the paper work inside it could damn well wait till morning. He shrugged out of his coat and pitched it toward the half-seen couch, then, loosening his tie, went down the hall toward the bedroom.
Abruptly, Boyd halted in the open doorway. The smile faded from his face. A tremor shot through his body. He gasped in horrified disbelief. "Oh no, Faith… no," he groaned.
There was Faith, his wife, standing in the middle of their bed. Her face wore the evil smile that belonged to Lucia. A skin-tight black leather jumpsuit covered her body, with cutouts leaving her firm breasts and entire crotch area naked. High-heeled lace-up boots were on her feet, and a whip was coiled in her right hand. Her legs were spread wide apart and her hands rested on her leather-covered hips.
"Do you like it, Boyd?"
He shook his head dumbly, unable to speak or tear his gaze from the obscene sight.
"Well, get used to it," she chuckled. "You're going to see a lot more. This is the new me… and I love it!"
"Faith?"
"Yes, Boyd?"
"You're not serious, are you? Tell me it's only a joke."
Her smile broadened, and her eyes squinted down to slits. Reaching out with her left hand, she motioned for him to come, at the same time letting the whip uncoil like a snake until its thonged tip lay on the floor, waiting…