"In Cold Blood" Pt. 03

It was Saturday morning and I awakened first. I should have been at the marina. Lisa was curled up in a fetal position sound asleep. She had my right hand in her two. She had the thumb of her right hand in her mouth. I had to get up.

I whispered, "Lisa, Lisa," I felt her move, then move more rapidly, "Oh, Larry you're."

"We're in bed together. Remember?"

I sat up on one elbow. She rolled over and pressed me back down, "Aren't you going to torture me some more?" She had no idea who was being tortured.

Pointing toward the bathroom I said, "Do you need to go?" She got up and dashed to the bathroom. 'Damn,' I thought, 'I had to go too.' I followed her. Inside, still tied up in scarves she whispered, "You'll have to wipe me." After I peed I wiped her pussy dry. She ran back to the bed; eyeing me expectantly, she lay back down.

I found my cell phone, called the marina, and told them I'd be late. I spent most of the rest of the morning in bed with a woman who wanted everything but what I desperately needed, 'Jesus,' I kept thinking, 'she's tied up but I'm the one with the blue balls.'

It was 11:00 before I left. The last thing she said as I walked down to my car was, "I'm off today. When will you be back?" I waved and shouted, "Later." Driving away all I could think was I'd traded one nut case for another. The next few days were going to prove how right I was.

~~~V~~~

For me the following days and weeks went from good, to not so good, too bad, to downright terrible. At face value I suppose every man dreams of having his own exciting little sex slave; some cute woman always at his beck and call. There was only one problem with mine; Lisa liked being tied up but she'd been so turned off by her slimy ex-husband that any effort by me to get her to include any of the things a man normally needed was met with tears followed by anger. I was being suffocated.

Lisa was a brilliant little vixen; she managed to get her whole life, and mine, mapped out. She worked for her mom and dad in the mornings; the rest of her day she dedicated to either me directly or to getting ready for me. Lisa was wizard when it came to on-line shopping; she bought dresses and costumes, just name it, Lisa found and bought it. Lisa was living out every fantasy she'd ever dreamed; harem girl, Greek slave girl, school girl, French maid, airline stewardess, Indian princess, the costumes came rolling in.

I admit it; she looked gorgeous. My problem was slobbering and drooling over this beautiful woman whose only interest was in getting me to suck on her tits, slide my tongue up and down her slit, nibble on that sweet ass, and kiss and smooch on her perineum and asshole. What did I get; a woman who kept me on a tight schedule of work, a lot of one-sided sex, and a girl whose insatiable desire for cunnilingus kept me in a constant state of sexual arousal. I turned into a man perpetually beset with hard on.

She had me too. I wondered who the slave was. I had to be at mom and dad's breakfast nook every morning, Monday through Friday. She'd be there, all sweetness and light, smiling and kissing and hugging. Every man woman and child in town knew we were sweet on each other. Everybody started asking about when the 'big day' would come. After work I was expected to be at her door ready for another round of her getting hers and me getting nada. Worse, her mom and dad had fallen in love with our relationship. They'd never seen their daughter so happy. I was Sir Galahad; the problem was I knew if I bucked 'her' system she might go ballistic, and then I'd have every son-of-a-bitch for a hundred miles mad at me for breaking her heart. Didn't anyone know she was breaking my balls?

It didn't take long to realize things were getting just a little outrageous. I was used to being my own man; doing what I wanted, when I wanted, and with whom I wanted. Lisa had other plans; suddenly 'I' wasn't going to the tavern anymore, 'we' were going to the tavern. 'I' stopped going grocery shopping. 'we' were buying the groceries. 'I' needed new boots so 'we' went shopping. 'I' liked my clothes; they fit nice, but suddenly 'my' clothes weren't any good, too raggedy. 'We' had to buy 'me' all new clothes.

Lisa was turning into a monster. I never thought about it at first, but she'd started to wear me down. Not only was she not letting me near her except to play her increasingly tedious slavery games, but she was even more insistent I keep her fully satiated. It was awful, though she already had me on a tight schedule, she got worse. She got possessive to the point of obsession. We stopped going to the tavern, soon nights out at any restaurant became an ordeal. I was becoming increasingly afraid even to notice a passing waitress. If I looked at another woman I got the third degree, "why are you looking at her", "suddenly I'm not good enough", "wasn't she the one you danced with last week", "you never pay any attention to me anymore when we're out", "why are you always look at other women", and on and on and on. I had no interest in other women except to see what they had on. She seldom saw it that way; she was always looking for salacious intent. Lisa was becoming insanely jealous, and I didn't have a clue why, but then I did. She had her needs, I had mine, and she knew I wasn't getting mine met.

I had to do something, and do something fast or I'd be dead from lack of nookie, or I'd have to give up on her because of her insane jealousy. Besides, my tongue was wearing out! What could I ever possibly do? I needed help!

The answer came from the most unlikely of places, the radio. To be sure it was an oldies station I seldom listened to. This was a real oldies station; like ancient, the 1950's. So I sat there in my truck listening to some old smoke named Chuck Berry when a song I'd heard once or twice before came on. It was a song about some guy back in 1956 who'd been a flop with chicks. Desperate he'd gone to see some gypsy. She'd figured he needed special help; he needed a potion, something she could fix up in her sink. It said she'd looked at his hand and made some magic sign and then she handed it to him. She called it her 'Love Potion'. That's when it hit me. I needed my own magic potion.

For sure I don't and never did do drugs. I liked to drink. The other stuff just wasn't for me. And I knew for damn sure there were no magic potions out there...or was there? Wait a minute! I'd read on the Internet about some stuff called Molly and another kind of junk called Ecstasy. I got back on line; Molly sounded scary, but Ecstasy, that had potential. If I could get some of that stuff, and if I could sneak it into some of the stuff Lisa cooked I might...

I started asking around. There were college boys and their rich older fathers all over the docks. At first I confined my queries to drugs like sex enhancers. That was a mistake. Rumors started spreading how I needed Viagra to keep up with Lisa. If that got back to her parents I might end up as some of the sausage they served. All I could think of was "Fried Green Tomatoes"? One kid found me though; he quietly bragged how he never failed when it came to girls. He had the stuff I needed. He had the 'Mighty E'!

We talked. I paid. He delivered. The stuff came in tablet form. He warned me to not use anything with it like alcohol until I was sure how a certain somebody would react. We didn't want anybody getting sick. He suggested a lot of ways to get it to her. I thought it over and made my plans.

I got the stuff and ground it into a powder. I figured to put it in something she made. Lisa liked soup, and we typically had some kind of soup or stew twice a week. The way things usually went, we'd prepare the food and then Lisa would slip back in her bedroom and put on some kind of sexy costume. I'd get the scarves, the cuffs or the chains ready, and then I'd pretend to be the sultan or the gangster or the warrior or whoever it was who'd captured and would make her his slave that night.

So come Wednesday and Lisa made her delicious vegetable soup. Before we ate, like almost always she went back to put on her latest outfit. Tonight was harem night. I had my own stupid costume and the shiny silver manacles ready. I also slipped the 'E' in her bowl of soup. Oh boy! Tonight the man would get his due.

Did he? He sure did, just not like he planned.

Lisa-Ann came out all sexy and pretty wearing finely pleated translucent pasha pants, a tight fitting crop-top pushing her ripe plump breasts up and out. Her hair, loose and free, cascaded down her back. Eyes sparkled she danced across the room where she fell at my feet. Breathlessly she exhaled, "Master!"

This was one of her favorite fantasies. I was supposed to be the ruthless but kindly, forget the oxymoron, desert sheik who would torment her with exquisitely soft succulent lips until she became his obedient and willing sex toy.

She looked up at me expectantly. As if on cue I revealed the shiny stainless steel manacles. Without a word I reached behind and fastened her hands together. She expressed all the appropriate appeals for mercy, while I gruffly but lovingly issued the expected low-toned order, "Extend your feet damsel." She stretched forward her muscular legs, placing two delicate feet on my knees. As per the plan I revealed a set of shackles, of course with the politically correct eighteen inch chain connection, and proceeded to clamp each one around a delicate ankle.

She played her part, "Oh sir, I fear you have the advantage. Please do me no harm." It was a script from some old 1920's 'silent movie'. Go figure.

I said my lines, "Yes, and harm you I might, but first you must be fed," This was when I got out her bowl of already prepared soup. I produced a spoon and delivered up her first taste. She accepted it with all the customary phony distaste. I ladled out another spoonful, which she fearfully accepted.

It was at that moment everything went off script. Lisa sat back and matter of factly, and I thought rather authoritatively for a slave girl said, "You put something in the soup."

I said, "What?"

She said, "You put something in the soup."

"No I didn't."

"Don't lie to me. I saw you. I had the bedroom door open. I saw in the mirror." From behind her back I heard the jangle of stainless steel followed quickly by a forceful flight of manacles across the room. Hands out and free she quickly undid the ankle chains.

I had no clue, "How'd you do that?"

She snarled, "You think I'm stupid. They're equipped with release clips. You don't think I'd really let myself by chained up and helpless? Now what did you put in my soup?"

She was really pissed. Was I stupid or what? I had to come clean, "Just something to help you relax. That's all."

"I bet," she snarled, "probably something like Ecstasy." Never much for subterfuge, my facial expressions betrayed me.

Smart, always alert, Lisa turned into another Mount Saint Helen's, "You bastard! Get the fuck out of my house! She threw the ankle chains across the room hitting a vase on her dining room table. When the vase shattered it only made her worse, "You God damned men are all alike! You shitty son-of-a-bitch! Get out! Get out of here! I never want to see your ugly assed faced around here again!"

I tried, "But Listen."

Fists flying she came at me. I ducked and weaved my way to her door, "Lisa try to understand. I was only..."

"Get out you mother fucker! Go find one of those whores you've been chasing down at the bar!"

I lurched for the door just missing the knob, "Damn it Lisa let me explain. You've got to try to understand."

She finally got one in, popped me right on the chin, "All right," I said, "Good bye!" I got through the door and left.

I walked back to my boat. All the way back I kept explaining to myself what I wanted to tell her. I never intended to deceive her. I wanted to show her there was more to sex and love, if she understood the word, than playing childish chain up games and me eating her out day after day. I only wanted to share that 'last full measure'. I felt marginally pleased with myself; I still remembered some of my college teachers' history bullshit.

Back at my boat I undressed, pulled out a bottle of beer, and sank back on my bed. I guessed that was that. I'd messed up; I'd ended what could have been a wonderful relationship. It was a blustery day; I thought I'd let the gentle rocking of the boat comfort me. I was really feeling sorry for myself. I pulled up the coverlet to keep warm. What was it with me and women? Was I that stupid?

I heard her before I saw her. I knew it was her. She was wearing heeled shoes and she stumbled as she crossed the deck above. Only Lisa would wear heels on a boat. I looked up. Her silhouette framed hatchway. She slowly came down the few steps and stood beside me. No sign of emotion betrayed her as she undressed. She was wearing a grey unappealing business suit I'd never seen. Piece by piece it slithered off till she stood before me completely naked. She looked marvelous, like Boccaccio's Fiametta.

She slid in beside me. Without a word she started kissing me. We were in tight embrace. She had her hand down my trousers helping me to slip them off. Soon I was as nude as she. She had her hand on my rock hard penis. God!

Together we lay on my uncomfortable lumpy damp mattress and made love. Yes it was love we made, none of her silly tie up games. We held each other in tight embrace. For the longest time she lay curled in my arms breathing the sleep of the contented. I lay there too, uncomfortable as hell, my right arm was trapped between her head and the bedrail.

Thinking to free my aching arm I tried to ease myself around. Her eyes fluttered open and she whispered, "I get it."

I whispered back, "My arm's a little sore."

She whispered back at me again, "Not your arm asshole," she recanted. Putting her hand to her mouth she started again, "I'm sorry, not about you being an asshole, but about what I've put you through," rolling over slightly she kissed my chest, "I love you Larry. I really do, and I'm going to try to do better."

I believed her. Why not I believed everything else any woman ever told me. Wordlessly, I pulled her in my arms and held her. We did it twice more before the afternoon sun faded behind the distant trees beyond the marina. At last I was really sore, but for all the right reasons.

Things changed after that. Oh she was still just as ornery as ever around the docks and at her parent's diner, but privately everything was different. When we were alone I never saw that angry female, the toys and the costumes all got put away, she might've still been fantasizing, but I couldn't tell. All I saw was this wonderful loving warm gentle creature who took the time to show me she loved me. It went on for several weeks. We copulated every which way; missionary, doggy style, cowgirl, side by side. Did it every way all the time, but she still wasn't ready for those final few steps.

Several times I tried to gently push her head down to my crotch, but she always just as gently pushed me away. Once I managed to maneuver her in such a way as to reach her ass, but she quickly rolled over. So I guess I wasn't getting everything I wanted, but on the good side her jealousy just seemed to wither away; that, plus me playing inside that sweet little pussy I thought I was in Heaven.

The planet kept turning. The sun rose and set. Life went on. I was happy. Lisa was happy. Her parents were happy but anticipating something, an announcement maybe.

Two months after our first time in my boat Lisa missed her morning shift at the eatery. I'd gotten in the habit of rising very early, way ahead of Lisa. So when I went back to for breakfast I wondered where she was and went to check. I found her in bed. She looked pale, kind of green. "What happened," I asked.

She looked glum, "Morning sickness I think."

I went to the side of the bed and sat beside her, "I thought you were on the pill. We've got to do something."

She looked defensive, "I stopped, but you don't have to do anything; I'm not giving it up."

She caught me off guard. She didn't get it? "Lisa that was a stupid thing to say, do your parents know yet? I'll tell mine," make no mistake I hadn't forgiven them, but they weren't blind, they knew what was what. I asked Lisa, "Where do we do it?"

Though nauseous she sat up, "What do you mean? Do what?"

I used my hand to wipe some of the perspiration from her brow, "We'll need to choose a church," her eyes began to sparkle. I hesitated then went on, "I know what; we can do it outside so your mom's parents won't be put off. We'll work out our own vows so we can include a little of everything."

She wrapped her arms around me, kissing me and hugging me, "I love you so much. Oh I love you so."

After returning her kiss I checked my watch, "Come on, get dressed so we can go tell everybody."

A few minutes later we were at the diner. I used a spoon to tap a glass, "Hey everybody listen up!"

Once it got quiet I looked at Lisa, she said, "Larry and I are getting married." Everybody cheered!

We decided not to announce the imminence of our baby. We'd let the town busy bodies do the math. A month later we got married. Happily ever after had arrived!

Almost anyway.

~~~~V~~~~

Shortly after Lisa and I got married an unexpected email popped up on my laptop. Susan had a brother and sister. The sister was quite personable and pretty; the brother not much of anything. The mail came from the sister. She asked me if anything was wrong.

I wondered what that was about. I mailed back, "Nothing as far as I knew."

She emailed, "Susan's been back in Gaithersburg for over a year. Doesn't that bother you?"

I mailed back, "No, should it?"

I got another email, "Susan's running around like a high school kid. Nobody can keep up with her. She acts like she's free to do whatever wants. When we asked her about you she said the two of you were fine. She was just taking some time away."

The things her sister was saying sounded funny and not funny in a good way so I sent back, "We're divorced."

Sister emailed back, "We need your help. Can you come?"

I emailed again saying, "No Susan and I are divorced; I've remarried." I included an attachment with the paperwork from our divorce and my new marriage license.

Three days later I got another mail, "I need to see you; it's important."

I mailed her again describing Susan's history, and a request she not bother me anymore. Two days later I got call a phone call, "Hello. This is Kathy Garofalo."

I remembered her, "Hi Kathy. How're you doing?"

She replied, "Not good. I have to see you?"

"Is this about Susan?"

"Yes."

"Kathy we're divorced. I really don't see the reason..."

There was a distinct hesitation and then, "Larry, Susan's in trouble. I, we, the family need your help. She tried to commit suicide."

My first thought was she probably took a bunch of pills, that's the way most women did it. Quite often they took pills because they knew someone would find them before it was too late. I asked, "Can I ask what she did?"

"She came home after a night out from god knows where, she locked herself in her bathroom and slit her wrists."

I said, "No, so she went upstairs after dinner or something..."

Kathy replied, "She came home late. Everyone was in bed, she got in her tub and slashed across her wrists. We wouldn't have saved her except she must have already filled the tub because it overflowed, and she slashed across, not up and down. Daddy hadn't been able to sleep, and he'd gone downstairs for something. On his way back up he heard running water, then he saw it leaking under her door. He had to break into her room and then break the bathroom door down. Had it been another ten minutes he would've been too late. We just thank God Daddy had been an army corpsman in Vietnam. Even so we almost lost her."