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!
Rebirth
by
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!
XSiamX
