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Surrender And Resurrection, The Ultimate Orgasm
- Thread starter Secret Keeper
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Secret Keeper
Executioner
Part 12 of 13
Now she sensed a game of cat and mouse and knew her role. She answered, “That orgasm was like nothing before,” in hope that it would explain everything.
“No, you had no idea that would happen. I know the real reason,” he said.
“The.. The real reason?” She asked, cornered.
“There is a condition called Toxic Pelvic Fluid..” he said.
She cut him off, “How do you know about this! Who told you! I said nothing to Raymond or John!” She shouted.
“It is when the fluid in the uterus is toxic to sperm. However, with enough sperm at least one can get through,” He said with a smirk.
“Of course I know what it is! Who told you!” she shouted again.
He continued, “Two men weren't enough, so you thought three may do it. I figured five would seal the deal and you would not object.”
“How did you find out!” She shouted again.
“I paid a Russian to hack into your gynecologist's computer,” he said.
The car swerved then got back on track. “Looks like you are not the only one living dangerously,” he said.
She started to cry.
He said, “Don't worry. I won't tell anyone, but..” He looked down at her lap, “It will all come out eventually.”
“It won't happen. I have been infertile forever,” she said.
“Your gynecologist prescribed fertility drugs. I saw early on how the fluid came out stringy when you were on the cross. You were ovulating. If you are ever going to be pregnant, this is it,” he analyzed.
The crying came in a new wave, yet she kept her hands on the wheel. She peeped, “I still want to be Tupperware Girl.”
As the terminal loomed she composed herself. “What airline?” she asked calmly.
“United” came the answer.
At the airport on this Sunday evening were a lot of women dropping their husbands off for business trips. Some had child safety seats in their cars. The guy from Chicago and Hannah looked like just another couple.
“How did you find my gynecologist's name?” She asked, as though it was the same kind of question as 'What airline?'
He answered calmly, “The Russian has been other places. User name tupperware_girl, password, crucify me,” he leaned over and added, “lower case, all one word.”
The car veered to the lane closer to the terminal, then hammered to a stop. She screamed at the wind shield.
The logo on the terminal showed 'British Airways.' The guy from Chicago pointed to it with his thumb. “Not United,” he said calmly.
She gripped the steering wheel of her late model Lexis and slowly made the car go forward. The next terminal stated Delta, South West and American.
The car continued creeping forward to the next terminal. This one showed Jet Blue and more South West. She stifled a groan. The sadist smiled.
The next terminal was all United. Deftly she positioned her car in the place where a man had just popped out of a mini-van moments before. She stopped the car and exhaled.
As the guy from Chicago reached to the back seat for his bag he stole a peck kiss from her cheek. As he got out he looked back into the car, pressed his finger to his cheek and said, "Just think you could be spending the next 20 years raising one of these. Pleasant dreams.”
He carried his bag and a wide smile to the terminal. He did not look back.
She drove her car slowly as she left the terminal. She shook all over with fear of the future to come. She couldn't help but be distracted nor could she help the shaking, so she drove slowly to be as safe as possible in traffic.
Hacking her computer, possible pregnancy, the welts, the pain on her thigh from the brand and the other on her leg from the hook all seemed like a blur in her mind, like a jumble of office supplies impossible to sort. She would soon know if his diagnosis was correct, adding to the jumble. Deep down inside she knew she was pregnant.
Her life before this weekend was over. A new life with whatever it held had just begun. She looked incredulously at the pizza certificate, lying on the seat next to her, now punched nervously with holes. It all started with that.
Twenty years raising something like that! She screamed loudly again.
Stopped at a stop light she sensed eyes on her. The woman in the car next to hers was looking at her.
Sensing the need to explain, she rolled down the window. Of course a full explanation would take too long, so Hannah said, “If you were married to that man you'ld scream, too.”
“Is he taking you for granted?” Asked the woman in the car.
Hannah answered, “No! He hired a Russian to hack into my gynecologist's computer.”
The woman's expression changed. She said, “He must care a lot about you.”
Next to her sat a man intent on the light. It changed to green and he whisked her away, just like that.
Hannah had made a friend, a woman friend. For a precious moment she felt another one of the joys, then the driver behind her honked.
Final Installment to come....
Secret Keeper
Executioner
Part 13 of 13
She came home to her quiet condo, carrying the certificate with her. On it had been written, “Praying for your safe return, Maurice.”
Mindlessly she dialed to order the pizza. To her surprise Raymond answered the phone. Out of habit her fingers had traced the well worn pattern of his phone number. She said, “Hello,” not fully believing it was him.
He recognized her voice. “John’s in a rage!” He said. “The video didn’t come out.” “He's beating the camera to bits now.”
She didn’t say a thing.
“Would you like me to come over?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said immediately, in her new voice.
He came over and they ordered the pizza, which was promptly delivered by a pudgy white kid. Seeing the certificate, he immediately looked down to her feet.
“You're her!” he exclaimed.
“Her?” She asked.
“You're the lady Maurice ran over. He was so worried. He even called a police man. It takes a lot for a black guy to call a policeman these days,” he said.
“He was worried about me? Why?” she asked.
“It was that 'She won't be needing these' comment. Your shoes were sitting on the counter all day Saturday,” he said.
“Well, tell him I'm safe. I didn't need them Saturday,” she said with a smile.
“What happened to your hair?” He asked, wrinkling his nose.
“We played a game. I lost,” she said, self consciously pulling at it.
“It was close, though.” Raymond loomed now behind her.
“You must be him,” said the kid.
“Who?” Raymond asked.
“He works with the guy that hit me,” she said.
“HeartCutter?” asked Raymond.
“No! You remember, Mr. Dreadlocks,” she said.
“Oh, yea. Pizza Hut,” Raymond remembering. “She's OK now. Thank you for keeping the shoes.”
After the delivery man had left she placed the pizza on the dining room table. Looking at the pizza she asked, “Is that why you said the safe word? Was it because the pizza guy had seen us together?”
Raymond paused for a moment. “Oh, Hannah,” he said, shaking his head. “I wasn't thinking of that.”
“What were you thinking, then,” she asked.
He walked up to her, looked at the floor at her pedal pushers then looked at her again, into her big brown eyes. He took her hands in his. Then kneeling before her, he said, “This is what I was thinking.”
Your nudity excites me because you deserve to be decorated in the finest of clothing.
Your thinness excites me because you are greater than the mountains and sky.
Your pain excites me because you deserve all comforts and joy.
Your humiliation excites me because you deserve the greatest respect.
The penetration of your body excites me because you deserve to be on a pedestal, far out of my reach.
You are my victim. I am your torturer. I crave to be your rescuer.
She pulled him to his feet, tears in her eyes. They hugged. “Raymond, love doesn't end well with me,” she pleaded.
He answered, “Let's not think end. We have now.” They sat down on the sofa, him holding her head and running his fingers along the collar she still wore. In his ears was that sound she had made on the cross. In her nose the tingle reminded her of where she had been for all too brief a time.
There they slept until Monday morning in their clothes.
-The End-
She came home to her quiet condo, carrying the certificate with her. On it had been written, “Praying for your safe return, Maurice.”
Mindlessly she dialed to order the pizza. To her surprise Raymond answered the phone. Out of habit her fingers had traced the well worn pattern of his phone number. She said, “Hello,” not fully believing it was him.
He recognized her voice. “John’s in a rage!” He said. “The video didn’t come out.” “He's beating the camera to bits now.”
She didn’t say a thing.
“Would you like me to come over?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said immediately, in her new voice.
He came over and they ordered the pizza, which was promptly delivered by a pudgy white kid. Seeing the certificate, he immediately looked down to her feet.
“You're her!” he exclaimed.
“Her?” She asked.
“You're the lady Maurice ran over. He was so worried. He even called a police man. It takes a lot for a black guy to call a policeman these days,” he said.
“He was worried about me? Why?” she asked.
“It was that 'She won't be needing these' comment. Your shoes were sitting on the counter all day Saturday,” he said.
“Well, tell him I'm safe. I didn't need them Saturday,” she said with a smile.
“What happened to your hair?” He asked, wrinkling his nose.
“We played a game. I lost,” she said, self consciously pulling at it.
“It was close, though.” Raymond loomed now behind her.
“You must be him,” said the kid.
“Who?” Raymond asked.
“He works with the guy that hit me,” she said.
“HeartCutter?” asked Raymond.
“No! You remember, Mr. Dreadlocks,” she said.
“Oh, yea. Pizza Hut,” Raymond remembering. “She's OK now. Thank you for keeping the shoes.”
After the delivery man had left she placed the pizza on the dining room table. Looking at the pizza she asked, “Is that why you said the safe word? Was it because the pizza guy had seen us together?”
Raymond paused for a moment. “Oh, Hannah,” he said, shaking his head. “I wasn't thinking of that.”
“What were you thinking, then,” she asked.
He walked up to her, looked at the floor at her pedal pushers then looked at her again, into her big brown eyes. He took her hands in his. Then kneeling before her, he said, “This is what I was thinking.”
Your nudity excites me because you deserve to be decorated in the finest of clothing.
Your thinness excites me because you are greater than the mountains and sky.
Your pain excites me because you deserve all comforts and joy.
Your humiliation excites me because you deserve the greatest respect.
The penetration of your body excites me because you deserve to be on a pedestal, far out of my reach.
You are my victim. I am your torturer. I crave to be your rescuer.
She pulled him to his feet, tears in her eyes. They hugged. “Raymond, love doesn't end well with me,” she pleaded.
He answered, “Let's not think end. We have now.” They sat down on the sofa, him holding her head and running his fingers along the collar she still wore. In his ears was that sound she had made on the cross. In her nose the tingle reminded her of where she had been for all too brief a time.
There they slept until Monday morning in their clothes.
-The End-
Well done tale Secret Keeper!!!
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
Hear! hear! What he said!
Secret Keeper
Executioner
Thank you.