A Place for the Broken Ch. 06

Like most veterans with PTSD, James hated being around a lot of people. His desire for solitude had grown over the years as his anxiety and paranoia worsened. He and Patricia had paid cash for a 50 acre spread down in southeast Georgia right on the Altamaha river east of Ft. Stewart. The proximity to the base and the access to the BX and Commissary made it a prime location for his desire for privacy yet still able to enjoy modern conveniences. Now that his Punisher days were over and apparently he was not under any suspicion, he felt it was just about time to sell the house in the suburbs and make the move to the country. He had begun construction in earnest right after Patricia's death. He had the plans altered slightly to accommodate his more militant mindset after Patricia's death. The crews were wrapping up construction on the main house and the outbuildings were well underway.

The drive from the cabin was right at 5 hours from door to door. When the girls asked where they were going his only answer was, "I have an idea and I want you opinion on it." James punched in the code for the main gate and drove the 1/2 mile long gravel driveway through the woods to the homestead clearing. He parked in front of the main house in the driveway as opposed to the attached garage, in order to continue the subterfuge.

The home was a nice, 2800 square foot 2 story farmhouse on a full basement. It had four bedrooms upstairs and a large master suite on the main. The original vision was to resume fostering or even adopting children to fill the upstairs. The kitchen was to be Patricia's pride and joy filled with high end appliances, quartz countertops and a huge walk-in pantry. The dining room was large enough to seat 12 comfortably and was adorned with a 14 x 3 1/2 ft walnut slab table with padded leather seated walnut chairs. All handmade by a local furniture maker. The rest of the furnishings were to be brought from their suburban home. The whole house was covered with the most advanced and secure wireless network available with military grade firewalls. The electrical room was shielded to withstand an EMP and was cooled by an independent a AC unit that kept the room a constant 40 degrees. Though not as cold as he would have liked, to go colder would drain too much power. The house and barn (which was still under construction) were powered by Tesla solar roofing. The heating and cooling systems used a heat pump with geothermal technology to maintain a comfortable temperatures with minimal electrical use. The property had two wells for providing water to the buildings and a shallow well for irrigation.

After he had given them the grand tour of the house, minus a few things Cindy need not know about and Samantha would later become familiar with, they walked out onto the back pool deck. He had decided to downsize the pool to a 20,000 gallon gunite instead of the 40k originally envisioned. The money he saved on the pool went into the bunker under the garage.

"Well ladies, what do you think?" He asked.

Cindy cried out, "It's Amazing!"

"WOW it really is beautiful, and so private." Samantha answered.

James took a couple steps forward to the edge of the pool and its crystal clear water and said, "So this is what I was thinking.... Well I mean wondering actually, do you Cindy and you Samantha think there is any way, and you need to be totally honest with me here. I mean it, no bullshit. Do you think you would be comfortable living here?" Both girls stated at him in utter disbelief and stunned silence. "I'll take that as a yes." He said calmly. They both ran to him, Cindy jumping up into his arms and as Samantha joined the hug, he dragged them with him as he fell backwards into the pool. The water was cold and the three of them came up gasping for air and raced to get out of the water. James chastised himself, 'well that wasn't smart.'

Later that night James and Samantha lay in front of the fireplace with a small fire going. They had opened up one of the sleeping bags and were covered with the other. They were discussing the realities of living on the homestead, and raising Cindy when James abruptly changed the subject. "The other night in the bunker, how did that make you feel?" She started recalling how insane the orgasms were and he interrupted her. "No I mean the rough stuff."

Samantha was taken aback by his question, but she knew exactly how it made her feel. "Gimme a minute, you know I'm no good with big words." After a minute, she found the word she was looking for. "Complete." She said, "I guess that best describes it. Or maybe, what's the word for feelin' like there's nutin' else you really want or need?"

"Content" he answered.

"Ya that's it. Content and complete. I knew that pleasin' you was all that mattered ta me." She said with a smile.

James threw off the sleeping bag and stood up reaching out his hand to her. "Come with me, theirs something else you need to see," he said. They went to the master suite and at the back of the big walk in closet, there was a secret panel that opened to a set of concrete stairs going down. He heard her giggle a little bit and ask, "You got another bunker down here?" As they reached the bottom of the stairs the motion sensitive lights switched on revealing a room a little bigger than the other bunker, but this one wasn't cold bare concrete, this one had a nice hardwood floor and the walls and ceiling were covered in strange black foam panels.

"It's sound proofing," he said, "the panels absorb sound." As he spoke she did notice that there was no echoing and his voice sounded warmer. "They use it in sound studios, like when making music recordings." He said as she ran her fingers over the strange material. "And this isn't just a bunker, this is our playroom." As he said the last bit his voice changed and she recognized it from their night in the other bunker. She immediately dropped to her knees and dared to speak, "Yes sir, our playroom."

He reached down and ran his fingers through her long blonde curls, then grabbed a fist full and pulled her to the center of the room. She crawled on her hands and knees as fast as she could. When he stopped pulling she rose up onto her knees and instinctively put her hands behind her back and pushed her chest out. "Strip." He commanded. She quickly pulled the nightgown over her head, but she struggled to get her panties off while on her knees, almost losing her balance. 'I'll have to work on that.' She thought as she returned to the kneeling position with hands behind her back. She looked up at him and before he could say anything she reached up and pulled his pants and briefs off. As he was stepping out of them, she said, "Sorry sir, I'll do better next time." She had barely finished when his dick met her lips. She took the head into her mouth and massaged his frenulum with her tongue. He stood there and let her please him at her own pace.

After a few minutes of her incredible tongue work, he felt his cum start to boil up way too soon. He pushed her back so her ass landed on her feet. "Get up." he said and took a step back. She stood up as straight as she could again with her hands behind her back. He walked around admiring her body. He magnificent member bouncing with each step. Her head and eyes followed it as he moved behind her. He smacked her ass hard."Eyes forward!" She complied and another smack fell on her other ass cheek as he came back around to her front. She saw his hand raise and it felt it come down on her tit, just behind her areola. "Your position is wrong, who taught you to stand like that? You're not a soldier, your a slut. Sluts present themselves." Another smack on her other tit. 'Damn that hurts' she thought as he delivered two more in quick succession to each tit. This time catching her nipples. Causing her to flinch. He grabbed her by the nipple and twisted it hard, then moved to the other and pinched and twisted even harder. She heard herself whimper, even as she felt her pussy becoming soaked.

He grabbed her wrists and roughly pulled them up and behind her head, "Interlace your fingers behind your damn head, slut." He commanded and then moved back behind her and smacked her ass again."Spread your legs, slut." He said as another smack landed on her other cheek again. She spread her legs about shoulder width apart. Two more fast slaps connected with her thighs, "Wider." She did as ordered. His hands gently rubbing her burning cheeks as he returned to face her. He reached for her pussy and began to massage her clit. "That's a pretty bald pussy you got there slut." And pulled his hands away only to deliver a hard smack to her puffy lips and clit. Her knees nearly gave out. He grabbed two handfuls of tits to steady her swaying, his grip getting tighter by the second. "Did I say to sit down on your fat slut ass?" He asked with a quick upward tub of her glorious tits.

"No sir." Samantha squeaked. Tears forming in her eyes. His powerful hands mauling her tits, driving her to new and different forms of ecstasy than she ever experienced. She struggled to keep her hands behind her head. Fighting her instinct to defend herself from the pain. She was no stranger to submission but the eroticism of this was completely different. This was not forced submission, this was her giving herself willingly. Her pussy screamed for attention, her juices dripping from her chubby lips.

James could smell her arousal. Her aroma intoxicated his senses, driving his need to dominate. He released his grip and softly caressed her magnificent globes of flesh. Her milky white skin in sharp contrast to the red hand prints left by his slaps. He bent to kiss her and reach down to run his fingers through her dripping wet pussy lips. Their tongues danced as he brought her to the edge of climax and pulled away, reveling in her moan of disappointment. "On your knees slut," he ordered. He stood in front of her, grabbed two handfuls of blonde curls and shoved his cock into her mouth pumping deeper with every stroke. He knew she couldn't take him at this angle so he punished her tonsils instead. His cock was a slobbery mess within seconds. He pulled out and gave her a little slap on the cheek with his dick before plunging right back in fucking her face in earnest.

Samantha was lost in her mind. She was his plaything, his slut, and she had found fulfillment. He cock pummeling the back of her throat sent shocks directly to her clit with every thrust. She couldn't help it, she let go of her hands and grabbed his ass to pull him in deeper. Three times the head of his beautiful cock entered her slut throat, when suddenly he withdrew and pushed her roughly away and she fell to the floor landing on her ass and elbows. She knew she fucked up.

"Did I tell you to move your hands?" He barked at her, grabbed a handful of hair, pulling her head back and quickly delivered a sharp smack to each of her tits, with a glancing blow to her nipples. She recoiled in pain. Still holding her hair, he pulled her around until she was on her hands and knees. He really laid into her ass with a half dozen hard smacks. He let go of her hair and rubbed the fresh marks he just imparted on her milky white ass cheeks. His fingers wandering to her cunt, inserting two fingers and roughly fucked her with them. Again, just as she was about to cum, he withdrew. "I didn't give you permission to cum, slut." His statement was followed by a single smack to her clit and the fingers magically returned inside of her. Slowly, teasingly pumping. She felt a warm wetness on her rosebud as a finger played with it teased it and finally penetrated it. The fingers in her cunt sped up and the thumb up her ass matched the speed. She knew she couldn't last and cried out, "Sir may I come?" He ignored her and continued his assault adding more moisture to her asshole. She cried out again, "Please sir may I cum?" After a few more pumps she heard him say, "Yes slut..." his answer drowned out by her scream, "FUCK YES, I'M CUMMINNN!"

She collapsed onto the floors riding out her orgasm. As her convulsing subsided he rolled her onto her back spread her legs and plunged his cock into her, bashing against her cervix. He pulled out and moved up straddling her torso, mashed her tits together and began to titty fuck her, his cock lubed with her secretions. With his thumbs and index fingers he pinched her nipples as his cock slid through the channel, banging into her chin. She adjusted her head so she could take him into her mouth with every thrust through her cleavage. She held her tongue out adding extra stimulation to his glans and frenulum. Minutes later her chest was covered in his sticky cum. She reached up and pulled him into her mouth sucking every last drop out of him. He settled next to her on his ass, one leg draped across her stomach as she rubbed his spend all over her magnificent, battered tits.

She rolled over onto her side facing him as he calmed his labored breathing, "You sir, are amazing." She said with a sultry smile. "But I think we need a couch down here."

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The following 2 months were a whirlwind. James made doctors appointments for both of 'his girls' for complete physicals and STD testing. There were of course questions in regards to Cindy being tested that resulted in an uncomfortable conversation. He was also able to find a counselor for her that was willing to do sessions remotely. Samantha refused therapy, claiming, "Your cock and the playroom are all the therapy I need."

James hired movers to pack up the Alpharetta home and deliver all the furnishings and home goods to the homestead. He, Junior and a few of Junior's trusted work crewmen unloaded and moved everything into place. Junior brought Ann, his wife and Shelly along to assist Samantha and Cindy. Samantha had lived in probably a dozen different hotels, apartments, and trailers over the years, but not until Ann asked her where she wanted things did she ever feel like the 'Lady of the House.' Needless to say, she was overwhelmed. The shear volume of household goods she 'inherited' from Patricia blew her mind. Sam had never accumulated more than a couple boxes of possessions, and now she had to figure out what to do with a full 53' trailer packed to the gills. In addition there was James' exercise equipment, gun safes, garage full of tools, and outdoor gear. All of that came loaded in a completely different trailer and would be unpacked later when Junior could loan him a skid steer with forks. Just unpacking the kitchen took the ladies the better part of the day. Sam ended up entrusting the girls to direct the unloading and arranging of the upstairs bedrooms, and was pleasantly surprised. James was in charge of the Master suite, the game room, and the movie theater in the basement. Four large pizzas, a case case of beer and a couple hundred bucks had everything where it belonged, much of it still on boxes, but where it belonged nevertheless.

James had hired a reputable handyman to affect the few repairs the house up in Alpharetta needed, as well as give it a fresh coat of paint, inside and out. His lawn service had been keeping the yard manicured and no sooner had the maid service finished the final cleanup did he receive an offer on the house. It wasn't even on the market yet, but word had gotten out around the neighborhood and before he even spoke to a realtor he had an offer about $40K above what he intended to ask. He met with the prospective buyers and closed the deal in 2 weeks. He was sad to see it go, there were a lot of good memories in that house, but that was another life. That was Jimmy McGovern, not James.

James and Samantha had continued their experimentation with BDSM through it all. James even commissioned the local furniture maker to build them a custom pillory. They had also enjoyed more than a few trips to various adult toy stores in Savannah and Jacksonville. Neither of them were drawn to the leather outfits or latex in any form. Paddles, whips and flails were fun but James preferred the feel of his hand on her flesh. James was a natural dominant, when he dominated sexually he felt like his true self and while he called it play, for him it wasn't a really game. But, he really wasn't a sadist. Sure he enjoyed the spankings and bondage, but causing real pain, physical or emotional just wasn't his thing. When he looked up videos for ideas and came across what he considered hard stuff, like torture, needles, extreme degradation and scat it just turned him off. He didn't feel the need to degrade or make his woman bleed in fact it turned him off. Regardless of his desire to dominate, he adored women and one thing he absolutely loved to do was forced orgasm. Binding Samantha up and using toys on her until she was nearly unconscious, drove him crazy. The more she came, the harder she squirted all the better, and only when she could take no more would he use her like a rag doll for his own pleasure.

Samantha took to their playtime, as they called it, like a fish to water. She naturally and easily slipped into total submission with glee. Sometimes she would annoy him, just to enhance the punishments. When she found it difficult to get out of bed after a particularly intense night, she felt absolutely complete, content and though she was afraid to admit it, loved. But her absolute favorite time with him was their intimate lovemaking. She never imagined she could feel so beautiful and desirable as when he gently took her. She was falling for this man, hard. She had emotionally moved from self-preservation to downright adoration. There was nothing she wouldn't do for him.

Like most men, it didn't take James long to acknowledge his feelings for Samantha. The night she told her life story to him was the ignition. But what started as pity, quickly developed into true feelings. He knew down deep he could spend the rest of his life with this woman. She was exactly what he needed and then some. In a world of boss bitches that "don't need no man" he found a good hearted woman that truly did need him and wasn't afraid of it. In fact she blossomed in being cared for, giving him real affection and peace.

Unfortunately not everything went as smoothly as hoped. Samantha was threatened with legal action due to the amount of school Cindy had missed. James enlisted the assistance of Samantha's social worker, Janice. She and James had worked together throughout his time as a foster parent. She was pleasantly surprised, if not outright shocked that James had taken both mother and daughter in as wards. He explained that after his wife's death he felt more compelled to help women and children in need, especially after he learned of the tragic fire that consumed their trailer and all of their belongings. She said she admired his sense of duty, and was committed to assist them in any way she could.

Truth be told, Janice was in a hot bed of shit because she had "lost" Cindy and Samantha. When the school contacted the Sheriff, and in turn the Sheriff reached out to her through her manager, lets just say boss lady wasn't happy. There was way too much trouble with all of Metro Atlanta CPS offices due to the insane numbers of women and kids being trafficked in and around the ATL. Luckily Janice had an easy solution she felt comfortable sharing with James, Samantha just had to submit paperwork for homeschooling Cindy and all the trouble would go away. Janice updated Jimmy and Samantha's contact info, and reached out to their local CPS office to get Sam a new caseworker. But the real concern happened when the GBI (Georgia Bureau of Investigation) showed up at the homestead's security gate.

Apparently the investigators were wanting to speak with Samantha about a missing persons case, her ex-boyfriend. They had gotten her new address through CPS. James met them at the gate and asked for warrants, which of course they did not have. The two agents were very professional, so James didn't give them too much shit, but there was no way in hell any cop was setting foot on his property with a court order. James informed them that Samantha was not currently available, but if they would like to schedule a time to meet with her he would ensure her attendance. They did and James decided to hire her an attorney, citing her lack of education and knowledge of her rights. After weeks of harassment and legal wrangling the GBI dropped it (he hoped) and let them be.

Unfortunately, his paranoia had kicked into overdrive, with near constant feelings like he was being followed by the GBI. For about two weeks his anxiety and paranoia caused him to become short tempered and angry. He watched as both Samantha and Cindy withdrew from him and at times, downright avoided him. It became painfully obvious to him that was acting like an asshole. He hated when he got this way. He hated losing control of his emotions. He hated the constant nagging in his gut, jumping at every sound, not being able to sleep, seeing movement out of the corner of his eye - only to find nothing there and worst of all, having absolutely zero patience.

James knew he needed to be open with Samantha about his PTSD. He despised showing weakness and the feelings of vulnerability it brought on but he knew he needed to be honest. And more importantly he knew he needed his woman's compassion and touch to bring him down. He sat her down and explained to her why he was acting the way he was. He opened up about his symptoms, but did not reveal the cause. Once Samantha knew it was not her causing him to act this way, her fear of him that was causing her to withdraw abated.

When he described his anxiety and paranoia She seemed to instinctively know what he needed from her, maybe because of her own mental issues, but regardless she knew her close presence and physical touch whether it was a simple hug or even just holding his hand seemed to bring him some level of relief. Her attention helped him to calm down enough to sleep, and with sleep came some clarity of mind. Together they sat and reviewed the previous week of surveillance videos from the three properties and seeing nothing suspicious he allowed his guard to drop to manageable levels. Apparently, the GBI had bigger fish to fry than a missing felon suspected of arson.