Fooled Me Twice Pt. 04

Meanwhile, she spewed threats of hiring gay strippers to rape me properly, humiliating references about my manhood, while never slowing down slamming her rubber cock deep inside my ass.

I wanted to die. After all, I'm to blame for my misfortune because I went too far with the cum shampoo and facial wipe.

I didn't hear her cum and barely felt what seemed like a cup of slime shoot out from my bloated bowels as she removed the fourth cock. I was finished; my mind could not stop the wailing and blubbering coming from my mouth or my limbs from shaking uncontrollably, and my sweat was soaking the device I was restrained on. Mercifully, I lost consciousness.

I was slumped over the waste high pad when I was woken up by water poured over my head. I opened my eyes to see Liz standing next to my face, and as I frantically licked some of the water drops into my mouth, my eyes opened wide as I stared at the strap-on she was wearing. My dick was just shy of eight inches long with a four-inch circumference, but this thing had to be over ten inches long and almost six inches in circumference. There was no way I could take that thing in my ass, so I swallowed and croaked, "No, no, no, stop, please stop, mercy Liz, don't hurt me anymore."

What came out was, "Nnnnnnnn, stp, peas, stp, murce Lith, don hut mmm amore."

"What did you say, Mary T? It sounded like you said you were ready."

"Archangel," which sounded like, "Har can gel," and was greeted with a derisive sneer from Liz.

"Are you trying to say something, Mary? Why don't I start introducing this beast to your poor little asshole?"

I grabbed the monster cock with both hands while trying to create some spit, and she slapped me, screaming, "Let go of my cock."

I tasted something in my mouth, maybe blood, but it was enough to swallow, and I repeated my cry, "ARCHANGEL."

"Are you sure about that, limp dick?"

"Archangel. ARCHANGEL, you crazy bitch. The weddings canceled if you don't stop," and I collapsed and passed out again.

I heard two voices while drifting in and out of consciousness, arguing. About what, I couldn't overhear who or what they were arguing about. Then I heard my name and knew they were arguing about me.

I mumbled, "If someone would please free me, I'd fall on my knees and kiss their feet." I heard the voices again, coming closer.

"You are bat shit crazy, and if you don't stop, you'll destroy his mind or, even worse, kill him."

"He's faking it. Don't you remember what he did to you?"

"Marty gave me water and hugged me and let me catch my breath, but what you're doing to him is evil and full of hate, and this shit show ends now. So, I'm taking over, and I'll take care of him until he has recovered. Now, disappear."

I had to be hallucinating, hearing Liz arguing with Liz, and I could still hear two voices arguing down the hallway. I don't know how long I was left alone, but I felt the straps on my legs taken off, then the one around my torso was removed. When I saw her face, I pulled away and fell on my ass. She reached for me, but I backed away until I hit the loveseat. I was shaking, holding my hands up to keep her away, and crying uncontrollably.

"I said the safe word, didn't I? I know I did, it's Archangel, and I said it four times. Please, don't hurt me anymore; I'll be good, I promise."

She was naked, but I saw her top by her pants, and the last strap on she didn't use was on the floor to my right. But her facial expression was all wrong; five minutes ago, she looked demented, but now her face showed care and concern about my physical condition, mixed with a side order of frightened and terrified like I had a knife and was going to kill her.

"I'm so sorry, Marty; no more pain, I promise."

"No, I'm sorry, Liz, I must have hurt you terribly last month, but I didn't know, and you never said anything or used the safeword as I did. What I did to your hair and your face, I'm a pig. I should have stopped, and I'm so sorry. Get your whip and beat me; I won't fight you, but no more strap on."

She dropped down on her knees next to me, pushed my arms aside, and pulled me into her arms, holding me tight. Unfortunately, she had also lost control of her emotions, and her tears carried streaks of mascara over her cheeks and lips before dropping to the floor.

We clung to each other as if our existence depended on not separating until we made up. How long did we sit there? I couldn't tell you, but when we ran out of tears, our heads raised from familiar shoulders, and we stared at each other, all eyes red before we both started babbling simultaneously.

"I'm sorry, Liz, it was all...."

"Please forgive me, Marty; I lost control...."

"my fault, I hurt you and knew you were...."

"and took it out on you. The horrible things I...."

"fragile, but you didn't complain, and I...."

"did were because I convinced myself it was your fault...."

"deceived you., Making you believe you would have to...."

"I am ashamed of how I used the strap-ons at the end because...."

"lick my ass was a despicable thing to do to the woman I love."

"it was a vicious and vile thing to do to the man I love."

We laughed together at how we apologized, both of us talking simultaneously, and when our lips met, it was like our first kiss, pure and filled with love. But would it lead to a restart of our relationship or the evolution of our love? Time would tell.

Liz removed the cock cage with the key and began unbuckling the bondage harness. The last item to be removed from my body was the dog collar. Then she helped me stand up.

"Lean on me, and I'll help you to our bathroom."

We walked down the hallway, holding each other up, weaving through our bedroom to the bathroom. Liz helped me sit in the tub and turned on the water, which was nice and hot. As the tub filled, she sat on the side and ran her fingers through my hair, like my mother did when I was a child. She shut the water off when the tub was full, turned on the jets, and whispered, "Rest, my love; I'm going to clean up the living room."

I relaxed and fell asleep until Liz woke me up and dried me off. After laying me on my stomach in bed, she gently rubbed aloe on my back and shoulders. The next thing I remember was waking up to Liz feeding me soup and crackers before turning the light off and letting me sleep.

Liz was standing next to me when I woke up, touching my arm with a fingernail. "Marty, wake up. Dinner is ready."

Looking at the clock, I could see I had slept for about five hours, so I pulled on a pair of boxers and walked down to the kitchen. Liz cooked breakfast for dinner and made me a plate filled with pancakes, scrambled eggs, grits, and bacon. As I was eating, I noted that the living room furniture and dining room table were all back where they belonged, and there was no sign that anything had happened today.

"Liz, what happened to that bench thing I was draped over?"

"Boxed up in the spare bedroom, waiting to be returned. It was a simple piece of equipment, easy to assemble, clean, and take apart."

That evening in bed, Liz and I disclosed our feelings about being the dom or the submissive partner on the receiving end before I fell asleep.

In the morning, we both concluded that while some aspects of BDSM were exciting, the overall concept was not for us. Liz said she'd get rid of all the bondage material we purchased and agreed to throw away the book.

*****

Classes were over, I aced my three exams, and the dissertation I wrote for my Aerospace Engineering Degree leaked out and was being discussed in several communities highly dependent on industries dedicated to space exploration. My opinion on what Earth must focus on for the next hundred years had evolved into a major controversy between scientists who agreed with what I wrote and those who vehemently disagreed with me. The title of my paper was 'The Future of Manned and Unmanned Planetary Exploration,' and Stanford University was publishing it.

My GPA was over 4.0, I was graduating summa cum laude, and I would be number one in my class ranking if all the students were men.

Okay, so I was fifth in the class, ranking behind four women, two Chinese girls who were identical twins, an Indian girl, and a California girl who went surfing every weekend. I am not a woman-hater; I hate finishing second or fifth.

Momma and Dad flew out to see Liz receive her degree in Business Administration with a minor in Forensic Accounting. She was in tears because they came early for her ceremony because mine was two days later. The three Stevens watching were so proud of Liz when she was honored on stage for having the third-highest class ranking in the accounting department. Several female classmates who came to hug her also admired Liz's engagement ring, and I believe they admired her cute fiancé.

When the Chinese twins came over, Li mei and Li ming, they were all over me, rubbing against me and touching my arms and shoulders. I think they wanted to take me back to China with them and turn me into their love slave. Something about the way Liz was staring at them felt strange to me; it wasn't hatred, more like desire, but I shook it off when they walked away.

We went out to dinner with my parents to celebrate our successes in school and the life ahead that Liz and I eagerly awaited. Later at home, Dad put a DVD in our player, and we watched Mom's first tour of her new house, courtesy of Larry and June Li.

We drove my parents to the airport the next morning for their return flight home before returning to my house to finalize the end of the Stanford chapter in our lives.

A moving truck and three men met us to pack up and load my furniture, household items, and most of my clothes. They also packed most of Liz's clothing, shoes, and makeup. After loading everything in their truck, they left immediately and would meet me at my dad's old house in three days.

Next, my real estate agent came by, and I signed everything needed to put the house on the market, sell it, deposit the proceeds in my bank account and then convey the title to the new owner. The only unknown was the price that it would eventually bring.

Lastly, a used-car dealer came by with a check for my two vehicles and drove them away. I was going to miss the Viper.

Rita, my house sitter for the last four years, drove Liz and me to an Enterprise franchise, and I rented Liz a car for four days. After a tearful goodbye to Rita, Liz dropped me at the airport later that evening for a flight back home. Liz would follow me three days later because she had to put her condo on the market. The separation would give me the time to unpack all of our clothes and mix my furniture with the furniture Mom and Dad left behind when they moved to my mother's new mansion in March. After we moved in, Liz would be able to shop for what was missing and change anything her little heart desired.

Three days later, I gleefully picked her up at the airport in my new bright red Dodge Charger, and we took a detour on the way home to Kevin Whitaker Cadillac, where Liz could decide what color her fully loaded Escalade would be. She wasn't starting her new job with an accounting firm in Spartanburg until Labor Day, but she was excited about everything falling into place.

We settled in like a married couple, and while Liz had the summer off and could lounge around the pool, I had to begin working immediately. The first order of business was to hire a personal assistant (PA) and organize my office. So I walked into the management suite for the company at precisely 8 AM to present my humble carcass to my Uncle Bob on my first day of employment.

Ms. Carla Ramirez, the executive receptionist, telephone operator, and office manager for the last twenty-four years, was sitting directly in front of me and greeted me with a smile and sarcasm, "Well, well, looky, who's here? It's the little boy who played so hard at the company picnic years ago that he pissed himself on his mother's lap."

"And good morning to you, Carla. I brought you the sex toys Dad asked me to get for you."

"Martin Stevens, I never."

To my left was the desk of Marsha Tarte, my dad's secretary for the last eighteen years guarding the closed door to my dad's office. To my right was Uncle Bob's open office door blocked by the desk of Lorraine Cotton, Uncle Bob's secretary for the previous twenty years.

I greeted them with great humility in my voice, "Greetings, ladies. Marty Stevens has arrived to take his rightful place as the head engine designer. I have an 8 AM appointment with Mr. Robert Stevens about a job he promised me when I was twelve."

I heard a booming voice echoing through the doorway next to Mrs. Cotton, "Marty, quit harassing those hard-working women out there and get your ass in my office, boy."

With a smile on my face, a head filled with dreams, and rocket fuel in my veins, I entered his office to begin employment with Stevens Aerospace and Defense. We talked for a few minutes before he walked me to my office on the second floor of a two-story building, between the Fabrication and Machine Shop building to my right and the Assembly building on the left side, all three joined by an enclosed catwalk.

For security reasons, the only access to these catwalks, and ultimately my office, is a security door located in each of the neighboring buildings that can only be opened by top-level employees' ID cards and a retinal scan.

I had two rooms that made up my office; the first room was two thousand square feet and would eventually contain a desk for my secretary and as many filing cabinets as we could squeeze in. Behind the door to the left of my secretary's desk was my office, all of six hundred square feet. My desk would be on one side of the room, with a drafting table next to it, and the entire back wall would be covered with whiteboards. My PA's desk would be on the other side of the room.

"This is just what I was looking for, Uncle Bob. What about the room for my server?"

"Follow me. It's right below your offices, and to enter, we have to go back to where we came in, exit the building, and enter through a large double doorway, all built according to the specs you gave me. Marty, we ran all the electric wiring per your instructions, and the AC system installed exceeds the specs you gave me. The air intake and vent pipes that go up to the roof are inside the walls between the two offices. I was leery about all your requests because they seemed like overkill, but Alex convinced me to do them. When I asked if he was sure, he said, 'The great Marty will reveal all.' Why did you need this much security?"

"I've written some papers, Uncle Bob, where I gave vague references to being close to having breakthrough advances in space propulsion. It's better to be ready to protect these advances rather than trying to increase security after the fact."

Uncle Bob seemed a little tense today, and I think I know why. He was nervous about 'Marty World' invading Stevens A&D.

We left the building and walked over to the double doors under my office. These doors opened the same way with an ID card and retinal scan. After he unlocked the doors, we went in, and I quickly walked around before telling Uncle Bob, "Looks good, my favorite and only Uncle Bob, so let's talk mainframe and workstation computers. The mainframe model I need takes six months to build, and installation takes about two weeks. I can get workstations for my PA, secretary, and myself from the company that makes the CIA's PCs in a week to ten days. I'll also replace my Dad's and your workstation for a total of five CIA-approved PCs, but now I need to fill you in on the mainframe I need and have already ordered, which will be here next Wednesday."

"MARTY! You already ordered it? How could you have ordered a mainframe already? We've never cut a check for the deposit or a down payment. I know this to be a fact because I sign all checks. Marty, this is not how we make major equipment purchases; you should've talked to me first. Damn it..." His cheeks were red, and I knew his blood pressure was creeping up.

"Calm down, if you remember, I told you at Christmas that I could make it happen, and you told me, quote; 'Okey Dokey.' Then you told me I was the best nephew you'd ever had the pleasure to meet."

"If that was after dessert, I was drunk because Jolene had to drive home Christmas night. But, Marty, we have procedures we follow at Stevens A&D for purchasing."

"Uncle Bob, if I brought the specs and price and showed it to you, no matter how hard I tried to explain why I need this particular computer, you wouldn't agree because of the cost. Without this computer, I can't do the calculations needed to test the changes I make on the engines. Speed is critical for what I need to do."

"Does your dad know what you're doing?"

"No, because if I told him, he'd tell Mom, and she'll tell everybody in Greenville about it and swear she never said a word. Would you like me to break it down for you, or are you going to walk away shaking your head and mumbling to yourself?"

"Tell me, please, before I have a stroke."

"Then, with all due respect, Uncle Bob, please let me have my say, don't interrupt, and when I'm finished, I'll buy the first three rounds at Delaney's. Okay?"

He nodded, and I could see this would have been a no-sale if I had followed standard purchasing procedures.

"First, the mainframe I ordered is an XC-30-AC air-cooled supercomputer from Cray. Hold on, Uncle Bob, you promise to let me finish. This model has been designed to compete with IBM, HP, and Dell as a low-end unit. It starts at $500,000, and with a few minor modifications, plus sales tax, delivery, and installation, minus adjustments I negotiated from them, the final cost is $650,000. Cray guarantees this platform will accept CPU, graphic processor, memory, and basic architecture upgrades for three years. After that, we will need to replace it, and then it can replace the IBM mainframe the company uses now for more routine things like payroll."

Uncle Bob looked terrible now, so I guided him to a crate so he could sit down. I stopped talking because now he was hyperventilating and looked like he was trying to stroke out. His eyes were bulging out so much that he looked like he had Graves' disease.

"Deep breaths, Uncle Bob," and I breathed with him to show him how to do it.

I continued, "I have a notebook I didn't bring with me today containing pages of notes and sketches of ideas I've had for the last four years. Two of them, I believe, can be created and patented in a relatively short time frame. What I need to accomplish that goal is a very powerful mainframe."

I had him now because his eyes popped back in their sockets, and he got some color back in his cheeks.

"You haven't written any checks because I made the down payment, and I'll transfer the balance owed to their bank from my account once it's installed and running correctly."

Scratching his head with one hand, he closed his eyes and reopened them, probably hoping I'd disappear. "Where in the hell did you come up with $650,000? Have you been stealing money on the dark web?"

"No. Larry's the one who knows how to do that."

I did my imitation of a drum roll, ending when a cymbal was rung, and dove right in, "You just purchased some patents through a broker for improvements to engine components that Stevens Aerospace created, correct?"

"Where did you hear about that? God, are there no secrets in this business anymore?"

"I know about it because, in addition to creating those three modified parts for Ion propulsion, I also modified two other components belonging to companies that shall remain anonymous that you incorporate into the engine assembly for NASA."