Thursday, September 27, 2012

Rebirth: Siam's Story

Today is final installment of Siam's story.  I hope you've been enjoying it.  The revised edition of this story will be potentially appearing in an ebook soon, with all the sweet, loving, juicy, and kinky scenes not shown here.  It was a blast to write!  I'm really stoked for October's story,  Don't miss it!

Ben Hannigan

Dear Diary,

Looking back writing this diary has helped, I guess.  Though I have kept a diary as a matter of course throughout my years, I am rehashing the events that led to my current life. I’m tired of facing it but at the same time avoiding talking about it.

My father didn’t retire gracefully from my life after being served with papers and a restraining order. I had stopped training as hard and was as I already said, enjoying the new aspects of my relationship. We were happy, but it wasn’t to last. The question is Diary, do I explain the damage done before the why?  I suppose I should really. None of us died, but in a way I died and was reborn in some ways. I start my days now being lifted out of my bed by Laura and am carried to the shower where she helps me bathe and dress, I crawl, dragging my useless legs behind me to the stairs and crawl slowly with each agonizing movement, Laura watching as I push myself never allowing her to help. I have had to move in with my love full time because thanks to Daddy Dearest, I can’t live alone. Once I get down those twelve steps I allow myself to rest and take my painkillers before I am lifted into the device that I spend the rest of the day in.

I am strapped into the chair with a harness and am setup to go to work, Laura eats but I don’t, until I have digested the drugs, it isn’t safe for me to eat. I roll out to the truck and I’m hoisted in by my lover. I can still drive though have the clutch and the gas as hand pedals on the wheel. I do love driving, I am still mobile and free in the car or on the Trike. But I am getting ahead of myself here aren’t I?  I should probably explain exactly what it is that has left me a useless mewling cripple dependant on my lover.

 I have been like this for close to a decade now. I am thirty six and my father took from me many things. Ben and the girls still love me, still want me, though since they are raising their brood of kids so we don’t often find the time to play as often anymore. They all try to reassure me that I am still worth their time, but I have been robbed of many experiences by what happened. I wanted to bear Laura children, either through a donation or through the science of creating “sperm” using her DNA but I can’t. The birth would kill me and I can hardly raise them now thanks to this fucking thing, this titanium prison that I use to move, that I am strapped into, that is now as much me as my arm or my slit.

Basically what happened was as follows;  after my breakdown we carried on and moved on with our lives;  working, sharing and loving each other. I had been with Laura three years and we made a decision. We travelled together to the city of fallen Angels, “Sin City” and wedded. Ben was Laura’s best man, her in a flattering morning suit looking fucking stunning and me the blushing bride in white. We stood in a chapel owned by a friend and were married. Strangely for Vegas it wasn’t a tacky kitsch wedding, it was a proper service, I attended by my two bridesmaids, my childhood friends. The littlest girl of the HDI family was my flower girl, the three year old girl manning the foam dart belt fed grown into a talkative six year old dressed in a gown to match mine, her brother bearing the rings for us and Rabbit stood or slumped next to the two of them in a suit to match Laura’s tailored by me.

The whole company was there along with Lucy, Sophie, and Ben’s parents. people I knew well from childhood who stood in for me as my parents when it got too bad at home and the three dads even jokingly played rock paper scissors for the right to walk me down the aisle. We had timed the wedding for the week after the trade show for the firearms industry so that all of us could be there. It was beautiful! A few old hymns were sang and there was just a huge outpouring of love. We signed the certificate that set up our civil partnership and had one hell of a party in a private room at a hotel on the strip including a midnight roller coaster ride in our glad rags. We left the group at the airport as they flew home. Laura and I flew to Italy for a week long honeymoon of. Laughter, sex, museums, galleries, more sex and trips to the Ducati museum and the Beretta factory, we were accompanied by “Rabbit” as he was ordered to keep us safe. I hugged the children, laughing at this and my Bride ruffled their hair and solemnly promised to let him look after us.

We arrived back home re-energised and ready to work again, chasing up the contacts that we had made at SHOT and from the factory trip.  We returned home and spent the first three days at Laura’s place as a couple and debated breaking my lease. I had kind of decided to ask about moving in with my partner and when she asked me too I was elated. While she dealt with the legal stuff like changing my name on the paperwork for my licenses I returned to my place to pack up and move over.

I returned to a scene from hell, the front door was ajar and that was the first sign that I should have paid more attention to. My landlord had popped in to fix the plumbing,  so I assumed that he was there. So I just stepped in. I crossed the threshold and the world went black. I felt a thud across the back of my head and my legs buckled as a bag was thrown over my head. Gasping for air I screamed silently unable to stop myself from crying out, but I couldn’t get enough into my lungs to make the noise to alert anyone as the combination of being gagged and choked relentlessly continued. I blacked out I think and I found myself naked chained to a chair in a basement. I didn’t know where I was. All I had on was my ring and the bracelet I had received as my wedding gift from Laura. The blinking light that shimmered in the half-light comforting because it meant I would be found eventually.

I looked up into a closed fist and felt my nose explode. It was Stephan and my father, the boy beating me and my father watching impassively. I willed myself to stay silent as he watched. “Enough!” he grunted and the man-child I was apparently to be owned by, stopped.

Siam, you are worthless to me to the Lord now. Useless a fucking dyke. I’m fucking ashamed, my own daughter my flesh and blood a fucking dyke slag bound for hell.”

I sat and ignored the abuse; the light blinking and my only focus being that light. I retreated into my head to escape the abuse. I was punch-drunk and wrecked. All I could see was that steady blink as I lost any idea of time. It must have been a day or two because they changed clothes and shaved. Abused for being a whore and worthless, my father explained slowly what he was going to do. Since I was soiled and no longer of use to him as a bribe he reasoned, he could let the boy have his fun then ruin me.

He had found the details of my wedding because of the fact that the parents of my school friends were there. He was taunting me telling me Laura was next and that I would suffer.  He was angry to the point of insanity and I was raped under his watchful eye, being taught my place and taught what he believed a woman was good for and should rave. It hurt diary it had none of the love or the passion that sex with my lovers had, it was hate, it was pain it was pure unadulterated evil.


I found later that the first night my wife assumed that I had fallen asleep at my flat amid boxes and didn’t worry, but when I didn’t appear at work the next morning she began to panic. They went to the flat worried that I had fallen and hurt myself, and went together with a medical bag ready for the worst. They found the flat torn apart, my room trashed and the door ajar, they found blood on the carpet and the words “WHORE, DYKE, HELL BOUND BITCH” burned into the walls. Laura was hyperventilating, now collapsed and attended to by the girls and Ben stood and phoned for help. Squad cars screamed into the lot and a steady stream of police streamed up the stairs into the flat, taking pictures, reviewing the damage The Lieutenant who supported me during the hearing for the restraining order, laying a hand on Laura’s shoulder comforting her as he radioed my description and a description of my father to the surrounding area.

Talking through her tears and shaking shoulders, fighting with her emotions to try and speak, trying to force the words past her lips between the mournful sobbing, Laura managed to get out two words she repeated over and over throughout the first twenty hours of brainstorming where I could have been taken, “jewellery, tag”, most ignored it as it didn’t make sense but then Sophie whistled harshly and said “Of course, how could we miss that!”

The Lieutenant asked confused “Miss what?”

Sophie explained whilst punching data into her tablet with one hand whilst stroking my love’s back with the other, “She wears a bracelet with a transponder chip in it; she is testing the long term effectiveness of the device. It is her login to the company system and also a tracking device when activated.” Handing the officer the tablet she had located me and had both, an address, an approximate location and the floor plan of the building. Looking worried the officer read the vitals report, “Subject is under stress, very tired, pulse fading in and out, likelihood of extreme stress, terror, potentially seriously injured.”

He radioed in for a recovery team and told my friends, my family “It will take 12 hours for us to be able to hit the place.” In response my family reacted angrily and walked away from my desecrated home to the truck they travelled down in, emblazoned with company decals and insignia. Opening the boot, they pulled out the bug out bags that they all carried. Donning heavy body armour, loading a mixture of smgs, automatic rifles and a door breaching shotgun, the three equipment designers appeared to be a well-equipped assault team. They fixed him with a glare and said as a group “Either get kitted up and come with us or stay out of our fucking way.”

He argued and protested that they didn’t have the training or the expertise until Ben said icily “I am the head instructor for HDI. I am also a man who has served in combat as a member of a Marine Recon team. I was injured in combat and left the service as medically unable to serve due to being hit with an IED, whilst the girls went to university working for the company, I am two years older than” he indicated Lucy and Sophie “I know exactly what I am doing, so put up or shut up.” He racked his breaching shotgun and walked to the truck, grinning as he saw the officer grabbing armour and a carbine.

Laura drove, with Sophie navigating; driving like a bat out of hell swearing as she followed the directions she was given. She stopped a block from the target. It was a rundown house surrounded by weeds.  It was in an area of the city full of crack dens and meth ops. With houses available and no questions asked.


“Fuck playing nice this is going to end violently.” Laura said as she withdrew four canisters from a locked box in the truck, they were squat black and marked “tear gas for law enforcement use only.” The Lieutenant muttered “I should report that” quailing under the glare of a pissed off bear of a man, he shut up. They stepped out of the truck walking to the house.  Rather than knocking, Laura shot through the downstairs windows and followed up with two of the canisters, reaching into her pouch for a small respirator she put hers on and waited for the rest of the team to act similarly.

Ben breached the door blasting the lock and they pushed in, sweeping the two floors they found nothing but Stephan curled up in a ball vomiting. The officer cuffed him and watched as Laura placed her boot on his throat and placed the gun on his temple, she calmly breathed and was about to fire when the officer realised what was going on. Pushing her away he called for a car to pick up the prisoner. “This has to be done by the book I won’t watch you murder him cuffed in cold blood.”

“The term officer is executed. He kidnapped my wife and probably raped her.  He doesn’t deserve to live. ” She kicked the man who was to be my husband so long ago until he blacked out and then carried on only stopping when she was dragged off by the two officers sent to retrieve him.  Whether they were protecting him or helping restrain him by removing him to the waiting van,  no one was quite sure.

Laura heard a howl of pain and a maniacal laugh from behind the basement door and kicked it open. She found me half dead from pain and blood loss, tied to a table naked, my father grinning as he hammered at my spine driving a series of spikes into me. “See if your slut wants you now. Bitch, you won’t ever walk again.  If I put this last one in, you won’t be able to wipe your arse alone you Jezebel bitch.” He laughed as he held it about to strike one last time and Laura dove through the entrance way.

I moaned burbling through blood in my mouth “Thank god, I knew you’d come but I was losing hope. He told me you knew I was here and didn’t care, I’m sorry.” I vomited blood onto the floor and moaned “He told me I deserve this, my father knows what’s best, he must be right.”

Laura grunted in rage dropping the guns.  This was violence on the same brutal animal level I had fought Ben with.  She hit my father like a freight train, punching him, ignoring the blow from the lump hammer as if it was a pillow hit from one of the fights we had with our nieces and nephews. She smashed him into the wall and I watched as she choked him. I was still mumbling that I deserve this that I was damaged, spoiled goods. The officers who followed my wife down the stairs, vomiting from the stench of blood, sweat and pain. Lucy screamed for an ambulance and the thwack of my fathers head hitting the wall, Ben and Sophie watched, feral grins on their faces, anger in their stance, at the man who dared hurt me, watching my lover beat him, intent on letting her kill him.

I whimpered as the spasms from my breathing shook my body. “Please stop her, she can’t kill for me. I’m not worth it.” They watched, waiting for the paramedics and turned.  “She will hate me if she kills for me.  Please, please, stop the pain, I need my Laura I can’t see her go to prison.” Laura blinked, staring at the unconscious torturer and shook. She sobbed as she saw what had been done to me. Semen, sweat tears and blood soaking my body as the paramedics worked to move me gently.

 I blacked out there with Laura stroking my hair telling me everything was going to be OK.

I woke up about two days later. Well, at least I think it was two days.  I can’t be sure.  I woke to what felt like fire coursing through my veins and I screamed, but couldn’t be heard. I fought, I flailed the mask constricting my breathing. I was panicking as I woke Diary, that’s what I remember burned into my brain, sheer animal terror, unable to move from the blankets pinning me down. My angel was there then. I felt water cooling my burning throat and she pressed the button that I couldn’t reach, and I felt that blissful moment, the push of the cold ice trickle of morphine through me extinguishing the fire.

I cried and cried, “I can’t feel my legs. Laura what’s happened? I can’t move my legs.” I shivered, sobbing and she held me close to her breast “I know kitten, I know, gods I’m sorry.”

She just held me right from that moment to the point where I was released.  Throughout the physio, the measuring for my wheelchair, she was there through it all. She took me home and still loved me.

I was weak and dependant on her; she took me home and changed my bandages.  When I was ready I came home. I was weak, she changed my bandages, bathed me, cared for me. I worked from home sketching from the sofa or the bed. I spent my days sobbing in pain. I spent six months and she loved me, kissed me goodnight, but I was terrified because she didn’t come to me as a lover. For someone like me that was a warning of a fate worse than death.

Mustering up my courage one evening, I was scared, frustrated and lost, I saw only one option, I needed this needed to feel something more than my own five minute fumble of frustration, I found my target and knew what I had to do,  I crawled across the two foot between us in the bed of a night, the two foot that felt like an impassable chasm, I had achieved closure of a sort, this is what I did to move on, the night of my rebirth I suppose Diary.  

I had faced my father and his co-conspirators as I watched them be attacked by a judge who condemned the fact that he could not call for the death penalty for the sins committed against me, all the while my father claiming his religion allowed this, that I was chattel, property to be traded or gifted at his whim. I watched; mute as he was given life without exception. My mother condemned to a psychiatric ward for her crimes against me, Stephan also was sentenced to life. He like my father convinced that he was morally justified in his actions.

The night after I watched this ending, this promise of protection, whilst Laura slept, I steadied my nerves with a drink from the bottle by the bed and I dressed slowly in the outfit I wore the first time she made love to me and I crossed that chasm, it took me about an hour to do this. Each inch paid for in sweat and silent tears, but I was by her side. I woke her gently with a kiss and I waited for her to look into my eyes “My Laura, my love, can you please? Can we? I mean, I want, I need” I mumbled and she waited, for me to finish.

“What is it my darling, you need the loo? Or meds?” My lover turned nurse asked me, concerned.

I died a little inside that that was her first thought, but then remembered what she taught me. I am the mistress of my own sexuality and I can ask. It isn’t wrong to vocalize desires. “I want to be your lover. I want to feel you, know your body again. I want you to take me.” I moaned with frustration, my legs spread as I straddled her leg, draped over her moving my legs apart with my arm. She could feel my wet centre through my knickers “Please my Laura, make me yours again, gods please, just fuck me. Make me feel.”

She looked at me in shock and bit her lip as I slid myself down her leg a little using the movement to put pressure on my sex because I needed the contact. “Gods baby” I whimpered with need and bit her earlobe gently.”

She moaned into the contact and kissed me hard, deep and fast “I was sure you wouldn’t want to be touched again.” she sighed into my embrace and kissed my neck, her hands sliding up my top caressing my bare breasts.

“And I was sure you wouldn’t want me.” I replied, sighing happily into the contact, her fingertips toying with my nipples as I shuddered happily.” She pushed me to the bed and took control. In seconds I was nude and she was inside me, two fingers deep, fast, rough, scratching, biting. She was throwing me around the bed easily now, I was smaller, lighter than before. She had to move me at times, my legs not responding, but my core was as I leaked onto the sheets. She sucked each nipple as she threw me around, it was sloppy uncontrolled, not coordinated, but it was sex. I felt desired as she ate me, consuming me I was hers again. Her forcing my head down into her crotch and I sucked her dry. I sucked and licked her, her arousal like nectar to me. I needed it, needed this, biting down on her clit as she bit mine, my tongue probing her arse as she fucked me with a toy.  I couldn’t move to fuck her, to thrust into her but we managed, She rode me, the dildo in me and her sliding up and down on it, we managed. We shook the cobwebs out and no mistake. My orgasm hitting me as hers hit and I lost all control.

I shook and shook, moaning, losing myself in this ball of fire, this desire exploding, going from my centre across my chest down each arm escaping in this undulating wail of happiness. This ball of lust escaping as I yowled, cried, begged and shook. Hers subsided before mine even reached its peak. She grinned laughing, knowing that unlike her, I hadn’t really been able to touch my core myself since before the rebirth. I was losing myself in it, soaking the sheets as I leaked come and came and came and came. Losing my mind it was so good. I lay my head nestled between her breasts as I tried to feed eagerly at her nipple, her hands bringing me higher and higher and higher, pushing through each orgasm with a gasp, she didn’t give me time to catch a breath. The orgasms blurred into one long orgasm as she drove me further and deeper. I lost myself in the pleasure, in the fire pulsing through my body. She was happily holing me without demanding anything, four fingers buried in my eager sopping cunt as I came and came. She felt her nipple slip from my eager mouth and my breath hitch and my moans stop, my last coherent memory Diary was losing all control and laying on my lover’s cunt, One final orgasm pushed me over the edge, I did something I never ever thought I would do, her mouth on my neck as she stroked me, I was her doll at this point could barely even moan I was so deeply lost in my orgasms, I cried out “Laura” with a throat hoarse from screaming and I lost all control,  emptied my bladder, the warm liquid almost indistinguishable from the come leaking from me. Laura giggled musically and the last I remember from that night was a murmured, “Hmmm water sports, maybe we should explore that later.” I was unconscious sleeping in her arms, this contented cat, a cat that had her own dairy of cream.

I woke being held by her and was kissed awake.  A kiss that seemed to shake my world, curling my toes,. Well it would have if I could move them. As I was carried to the shower and pinned in place I had my box ravished by her tongue. I was hers again and at that point I think my healing truly happened. I was a sexual being again. My Laura helped me dress sexily again, helped me love her, helped me take her, make love to her, helped Ben ravish me and fill me.

I was hers again. “I mumbled loving nothings each evening, still borrowed her during meetings to ravish and devourer her. When we walked into work that morning, the morning after I exploded into nothingness in her armed, everyone knew I was back, I was me again. The sex was more than an earth shattering orgasm, it was a symbol. It was the fact I wasn’t a burden, was wanted, and was loved.

Diary, I was allowed to be happy, to be loved and wanted, even though I was crippled and half wasted, I was wanted. I didn’t define myself by what I couldn’t do, I defined myself by my lovers view of me. Regardless of the scars, I was sexy to her, I was wanted by her. I embraced the chair, embraced my form, and built myself a new life, doing everything I enjoyed. Sure, we had to modify things but I was shown by my Laura that I could still be me. I designed clothes, holsters and equipment for the able bodied and disabled audience and concealed weapons in the chair that left the rest of the team green with envy. I was accepted and wanted.

I am still angry Diary, that he took my chance to bear a child away but I spoil my nieces, nephews and the children of the HDI family. I became a big sister, an aunt, a cousin, playing with them, giving rides in the chair and showing them that your identity does not have to be limited by what your physical nature is but you are only limited by your desire to try.

Diary, I am loved, wanted, supported, desired and happy!


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