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|Storycodes: M/f; denial; sex; naked; bond; entomb; first; gag; intubate; pain; spank; rope; toys; transported; reluct/nc; X||
|Precious Marissa ElectroPainLover M/f; denial; sex; naked; bond; entomb; first; gag; intubate; pain; spank; rope; toys; transported; reluct/nc; X|
Kevin and Marissa, only two-months shy of their first anniversary in the heavenly bliss of the shroud of matrimony, are as much in love as the day they repeated their vows. At least, Marissa was the last time Kevin seen her, two-days before waking this morning. Kevin figured Marissa was not all that happy at current and most assuredly questioning why she was in her current state. Kevin knew they would not be spending their first wedding anniversary together, Marissa, did not.
Kevin, a fourth-year resident in the psychology ward of the county’s General Hospital, was the cause of Marissa’s current situation, and, thanks to Rohypnol and Trazadone, she will not be able to recall how or why she is where she is.
Kevin is sure his wife of the past ten-months is undoubtedly uncomfortable and will continue to have to endure her misery for several more days, bumping and jolted, as the train car she is in navigates through the mountainous regions of Mexico, on its way to a Panama depot. From there, Marissa will finish the trip by a delivery truck to her destination in Belize.
* * * * *
Shortly after they were wed, Marissa, in the passing of near-sleep conversation while the two of them spooned after a multiple orgasm producing evening of making love, mentioned a desire to incorporate some bondage into their love making. Kevin, simply offered to analyze her to find out where such a yearn for bondage may stem from. They fell asleep that night without any further words and Marissa had never brought up the subject again. However, the words she spoke while she was slowly falling over the precipice of slumber, had not escaped him. Marissa never remembered her thoughts had been spoken, believing the short conversation had actually been a part of her dream-land.
Kevin mused over what she had said over the next few months, and, during several of their—near nightly—acts of passion and lust filled nights of soiling the bed linen, Kevin had forcefully held Marissa’s wrists to prevent her from moving her arms. If they were in the missionary, he held her wrists tightly above her head; when doggy, he wrapped one large hand around both of her small wrists behind her, tightly, in the small of her back. Marissa struggled hard against his tight grip and had complained that he was hurting her on a couple of the occasions he had restrained her using his strength. Once she complained, Kevin would release her wrists. He was sure that, if she did not enjoy him restraining her with his hands, she would definitely not want to be restrained by any other means either. Soon, Kevin quit testing to see if her desires for being tied was an actual desire, and decided her stated craving a few months earlier had been half-sleep pillow-talk. What Kevin found on their shared computer told him a whole other story however.
While browsing the web, Kevin found several odd sites in the browser’s history and proceeded to follow the pages Marissa had visited and neglected to clear from the browsers history. The site she visited the most was a BDSM information and chat page about being a slave. Unfortunately for Marissa, she had had the browser save and auto-enter her credentials and password. He logged into the site under her name and looked around.
Kevin found several questions posted by his wife asking about being a submissive and her thoughts of wanting to become one. She mentioned she was scared of the pain, but, thought she would love the aspects of being forced to perform and of being bound for long periods of time.
SlvofMstrP replied to LostSoul; my wife; that pain was a part of the training and compliance of being a slave, however, some Masters only use it when their slave misbehaves. Yet, other Masters believe it to be part of the life of a slave. And, that the frequency and severity of the pain she would be inflicted would depend upon her behavior and her Masters style.
Marissa replied that she could handle some pain, but, questioned how some of the slaves she had read about could handle the abuse they, seemingly, endured on a regular basis. Her correspondent explained that it was up to how much they; and she; wanted to be a slave, and the willingness to put up with the pain and humiliation to fulfill their deepest desires. That, some people, think they may wish to be a slave until it came down to the actual treatment they must be willing to endure.
It seemed to Kevin, through his additional reading, that Marissa was wishing for the best of both worlds; slavery without pain. Most of the replies she had received from other members told her they didn’t believe she really wanted to be a slave and she should give up the idea if she were not willing to be dominated by the use of corporal punishment. Other posts called her weak; yet others…much worse.
Marissa did not give up, however, and asked questions on how to get through the punishment episodes. Answers varied on the different coping skills each of the slaves offered. Many, seemed to tell her that they found a place within themselves to hide from the pain of being whipped, caned, slapped, pinched, suffocated, and, in some cases, electrically tortured. Marissa commented that she would have to try some punishment upon herself and asked what she could do to explore her own pain threshold before turning herself over to a Master. Several answers came, stating she could try some caning of her thighs, ass, feet, breasts, etc. They informed Marissa, if she could hit herself hard enough to leave red marks and welts, she could probably endure, if not all, most of the punishment she could receive by a moderately punishing Master.
Kevin finally understood why Marissa would, at times, not allow him to see her naked body and had turned off the lights before slipping out of her clothes and climbing into bed for their follies.
Kevin, unlike his wife, erased his tracks on the computer and started doing his own research; research on becoming a Master of a slave. He learned quickly through the different sites he had visited, and; though he might, at times, be in violation of his Hippocratic Oath; dominate his curious young wife.
Two days ago—the morning Kevin had shipped her—while Marissa was making breakfast; a task she performed regularly while only clad in tiny thong panties and one of her t-shirts; Kevin lifted the shirt covering her perfect little ass and slapped her hard on her left ass cheek. The slap had produced a bright red imprint of his hand a few seconds later.
Marissa jumped and screamed from the slap. She turned to Kevin, “What the fuck was that for?!”, a small amount of moisture welling in the lower corners of her eyes.
“Did that hurt?” Kevin asked, looking into her baby-blue eyes.
“Hell yes!”, she said and asked again, “Why’d you slap my ass?”
“Good! You burnt the bacon. You know I like my bacon soft.” He replied to his wife.
“You’ve never slapped my ass that hard before…” Marissa stated, then continued, “…and I’ve made you crisp bacon several times.”
“I know…” Kevin remarked “…and I’m tired of it. The slap got your attention, didn’t it? It might just make you aware that I am tired of bacon jerky.” He finished.
“If you don’t like the way I cook bacon, you can fry it yourself.” Marissa quipped angrily, turning her body and her attention back to the bacon sizzling in the frying pan.
Smack!... Kevin landed another open handed slap to the exact same spot he had slapped her now tender left butt cheek previously.
“Son-of-a-bitch Kevin, that hurts…Stop it! What the fuck has gotten into you?” Complained Marissa, more tears filling her already weeping eyes as she turned to look at him.
“I love you Marissa, but, somethings have got to change around here.” He said, towering over her by a full head height. “And, the first thing I want to work on is no more burnt fuckin’ bacon!” Kevin demanded.
“And I said you can make your own fucking bacon if you don’t like how I cook it!” She said, anger reddening her young and beautiful face.
Kevin grabbed his wife by her upper left arm and gave her the bums-rush to their large kitchen table, forcefully bending her over it, pressing and holding her down with his left hand pressing hard between her shoulder blades, squashing her small, but firm, breasts beneath her. He lifted the t-shirt, which barely covered the top of her ass while bent over the way she was, and, unleashed a torrent of hard smacks to her smooth white flesh. When he finished, both cheeks of her derriere were blushing a bright red. Marissa cried with each smack and tried desperately to escape her husband’s firm hold on her.
When Kevin finished spanking his wife for her obstinacy, he grabbed the small string of her panties, which disappeared into the cleft of her now red cheeks, and pulled hard; tearing the panties off, but not before they pulled viciously tight against, and into, the delicate folds of her labia.
Marissa cried out loudly from the abuse the fabric had imposed upon her delicate skin of her pussy. Kevin, kicking her feet apart, pulled his cock out through the opening of his pajama bottoms. It was hard and at full girth, it’s larger-than-average diameter stretch his wife’s vaginal opening painfully when he would slide into her too fast when they made passionate love and he would usually have to enter her quite slowly and gentle.
However, Kevin shoved himself hard into her, without regard as to how much her pussy would pain her for the violent entry. He slid into her pussy, feeling slight resistance when his large glans first spread her outer and inner labia, then stretched her tight vaginal muscles. Kevin felt her pussy was slick with her juices. He noted, his wife, while she had seemed irritated by his slaps to her ass, had obviously been aroused by her mistreatment.
Kevin rammed his cock hard and deep into his wife while she was defenselessly bent over their dining table. Marissa screaming at the unexpected pounding her husband was performing on her, while, the bacon she was cooking burnt to blackened strips of carbon on the stove. Her mind was a blur of what her husband was doing and what he had done, but, she started feeling herself building an orgasm. The buildup was slow. She could feel the orgasm start to rise inside her, starting to light each of her senses with a bright white. A few more heavy thrusts into her and she would explode and be quite glad Kevin was holding her against the table as her legs would be too weak to be of any good to her.
Marissa’s orgasm was too slow. Kevin squirt his cum with one final thrust, holding himself so deep inside her she could feel the huge head of his cock being held tight against her cervix. Once his spasms from his orgasm quit, Kevin pulled out of her as abruptly as he took her.
“No!” Marissa cried. “Finish me! Please help me finish!” She pleaded.
“You don’t deserve to be finished.” Kevin scolded while taking his hand away from her back, allowing her to remove her chest and stomach from the table. “And, I best not see your hand anywhere near your pussy! Do you understand me?!” He demanded.
“Kevin. What are you doing? What has got…”
Marissa’s question was cut off when Kevin quickly reach out and grabbed her left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing it hard and twisting.
“Ouch! Let go! That hur…” Kevin, again, cut his wife’s complaint in mid-sentence.
“Do…You…Understand…Me?!” He said while pinching, pulling, and twisting her tender nub harder with each passing moment she didn’t answer.
“Yes! Yes! Ouch! I understand! Please stop!” She responded, wanting him to let go of her nipple and stop the pain burning through her whole left breast. He finally released her nipple which was now very sore.
Kevin turned towards the stove and turned off the burner. He moved the frying pan off of it, the strips of bacon now looking like the black snake’s children would get from the fireworks shop around the Fourth of July.
Kevin left his wife standing with her sore butt cheeks resting against the table her husband had just used to fuck her and softly caressing her painful, red and swollen, left nipple. Her face looking dumb-struck, eyes filled with tears and wonderment, unsure what had made her ever loving and gentle husband treat her with such malice and induce so much pain. Even her pussy was burning and sore from the rough fuck he had given her. He had never fucked her, but made love with her. Gentle, kind, with warmth and love. Never a hard and aggressive ‘wham-bam-thankyou-ma’am’ fuck he had just submitted her too. Kevin had always allowed her to cum, and usually before himself. Not now, not this morning. Marissa wondered what had changed, and, why it had changed even before their first anniversary. She stood there dumb-founded and perplexed as she watched her husband move about his business, unknowing how much his business would become her own.
Kevin went out into the garage and rummaged through one of the drawers they used to keep some degree of order to the garage and not have stuff strewn around. Finding what he was looking for, he went back into the house. Marissa was still standing as she had been when he left her; the same shocked look and gapped jaw.
Moving quickly, Kevin grabbed the scissors Marissa had used to open the package of bacon; keeping his retrieval slightly hidden and away from his wife’s view; grabbed her by the upper arm and roughly guided her to the living room. Kevin, half pushed, half pulled her to the floor. Marissa went down to her knees, fairly hard, then, onto her stomach.
Kevin grabbed her arms and pulled them roughly behind her, straddling her at the small of her back, pinning her hands under his body. He made sure her hands were beyond his ass and unable to grab anything of importance. He worked quickly at the one-hundred-foot coil of quarter-inch laundry-line rope he had pulled from the drawer in the garage.
Marissa was screaming at the top of her lungs, telling her husband to get off of her and stop whatever this bullshit was that has gotten into him. She fought fervently to pull her hands from under his heft, but, they would not come free. She pinched his ass through the thin fabric of his pajama’s, as hard as she could. She thought she had got him a couple times quite hard, but he never flinched nor lessened his weight holding her arms pinned beneath him.
Kevin unwrapped about six-feet of the cord from the packaged coil and used the scissors to cut the length of rope from the coil. He folded the rope in the middle and made a quick loop in the rope. He held his wife’s wrists with one strong hand and pulled them from under his crotch, quickly putting the loop around her wrists and pulled it tight.
“What the fuck are you doing? You’re tying me up…why?” Marissa sobbed from her confusion and her sore, reddened ass, and the frustration of her lost orgasm.
“Shut the fuck up!” Her husband of ten-months demanded, giving her ass a hard smack with the coil of rope, like a cowboy giving his horse a good smack to inch a little more speed out of it, relighting the fire of the previous spanking he had given the tender flesh of her ass.
Marissa felt her husband loop the rope tightly around her wrists several times, then, she felt him loop the rope between her wrists, tightening the loops which he had encircling them. She felt him tie several knots. While he started uncoiling more rope, she felt for the knots with her fingers. She could not find them, though she thought she knew where they were.
Marissa started flailing her legs up towards Kevin’s back, catching him once squarely in his right kidney. It had obviously hurt him because she felt him flinch and heard him release a lungful of air, but, before she could make a follow-up attempt to dislodge him from his perch upon her, he was on her legs and holding them down.
Shortly, he was wrapping rope tightly around her ankles in the same manner she had felt him tie her wrists. Her ankles were bound tightly together when he finished cinching the last knot. Marissa still fought and tried to buck Kevin off of her. He outweighed her by eighty pounds and she could not muster enough strength to get him off of her.
Kevin could now take some time to cut several lengths of rope since his wife’s hands and ankles were bound, cutting off a fair amount of her ability to fight. Once he had cut several lengths of rope, he began to add more bonds to his wife. He tied her legs above and below the knees since he was already facing toward her feet from tying her ankles. When he was done with her legs, he turned back around and was going to start on her arms.
Marissa started yelling again, loudly, cursing him for what he was doing to her. Before he went to work on her arms, he ran the scissors up the back of her t-shirt, splitting it up the back. He cut both sleeves and yanked the shirt roughly from under her body, her nipples getting a slight abrasion burn from the shirt being quickly drug across her tender nubs. Marissa let out another round of screams and curses from the indignant and painful treatment of her breasts.
Once he had the shirt free, Kevin rolled his wife over on her back, looking her in the eye’s for the first time since he had first slapped her ass. The pain and questioning wonder he seen in them made his heart sink for a moment, making him questing if he could continue and whether he could actually be her Master. Kevin shook off his feeling of pity and proceeded to shove the cut-up t-shirt into his wife’s sweet mouth; a mouth which had worked wonders upon his manhood so many times; forcing the cloth between her tender lips, and deep into her oral cavity.
She tried to bite down once while his fingers pushed the make-shift gag into her mouth, but a hard pinch and twist of one of her nipples made her open her mouth wide in an attempt to scream from the pain. Kevin tore strips off of the portion of the shirt that would not fit into her mouth and used them to tie the ball of loomed cotton fabric firmly in place and hold it deep in her mouth.
With his wife silenced, he rolled her back over and continued with her bindings. He tied her arms above and below her elbows, tight enough that her elbows were actually being smashed together. Kevin knew she was quite limber and her arms being pulled behind her so drastically would not harm her shoulders or rotator cuffs.
Kevin lifted Marissa up and onto her knees. Her eyes showing fear and bewilderment. Breaking his eyes away from hers; a feat which was more difficult than anything he had ever faced before, for he loved his wife; and took a long piece of rope from his pile of cuttings. He wrapped the rope around her waist, again making a loop around her, the ropes cinch portion being aligned with the cleave of her beautiful ass, which, was turning from the bright red he had given her, to a soft glowing pink. H
e wrapped the rope around her waist several times, then run the ends through the cinch behind her back. He pushed the rope between her legs, which took effort due to her tightly bound legs. As he did, however, he could feel his wife’s moisture which was obviously still seeping from her pussy, helping to alleviate Kevin’s doubts as to Marissa’s feelings about what he is doing. Her eyes may be saying ‘No’, but, she can control them. Her pussy, on the other hand, is screaming ‘YES!’, a bodily response she has no more control over than the beating of her heart.
Kevin was able to work the rope between her legs, but, left it lose. Knowing he would not have her sweet, tight pussy wrapped around his cock for over three months after today, he bent her over the coffee table and worked himself into her, having to work much harder to breach her this time, as, her legs being tied together made her pussy that much tighter.
As her tightness worked to milk him, Kevin had to slow his strokes when he noticed Marissa starting to build to an orgasm. He could not allow her to cum. She would not be allowed one while she was in training either, though, she will be left on the edge numerous times throughout her three month stay at the slave training camp she would soon be packaged and sent to. Each time Marissa would begin to show signs of reaching an orgasm, Kevin would stop pumping her and twist and pull hard at her nipples. He could only hope that this technique would continue to hold her off until he had finished. It did, he did, and she did not. Kevin could feel her anger of being fucked again, and, again, being denied her orgasm.
When he was finished, Kevin pulled his wife off of the coffee table and proceeded to slip the ends of the rope under and around the rope around her waist, in line with and directly above her pubis. He left her kneeling and went to his office. After a stop by the bathroom, he reappeared and Marissa’s eyes opened to the widest point he had ever seen. She had obviously got a glance at the butt plug he would soon have buried deep inside her anus. It was huge for her tiny size. He pulled out a tube of KY jelly. Unfortunately for her, she had insisted on buying the warming gel, and, up until now the tube had been unused.
Kevin gave both, her ass and the dildo a good covering of the gel. Marissa was struggling in her bonds harder than she had before, unfortunately for her, to no avail. Kevin had learned—Kevin had learned a lot. He bent his wife over to afford him access to the hole she had said was out-of-bounds, and began slipping the huge plug into her, up-to-now, virgin asshole. It took him a good five minutes, and, Marissa a lot of screaming, before getting the widest part; two-and-a-half-inches; past her anus and settled into her rectum.
Kevin laid her on her back, her arms being uncomfortably torqued by the pressure, from the look in her eyes, and went back to his office. When he came back, Marissa could see him unwrapping something that appeared to be for medical use. It was.
Kevin put on a pair of nitrile surgical gloves and pulled the item out of the package. When she made out what the item was, Marissa began to scream and fight anew. She could not believe he was about to catheterize her.
“Hold still and don’t fight it and it will hurt much less. Try to fight it and you will endure pain, yet, have the same result as if you didn’t fight me. Discomfort, or, pain, it’s up to you. Either way, it’s going in. I have no choice and you have no choice.” Now, Dr. Kevin told her as he began to slide the pre-lubricated tube into her urethral tract and into her bladder.
Marissa cried hysterically from such degradation and humiliation and discomfort as she felt the tube worm its way up into her body, the bag immediately showing signs of the light-yellow liquid the tube allowed her to expel when the tiny head of the tube entered her bladder. Kevin inflated the small balloon on the tip of the tube to ensure the tube would not slip out during the trip. Kevin strapped the bag to her outer thigh. He used a much larger bag than normal, considering how long she will use it and nobody to dump it.
“As for pooping…” Kevin wanted so much to use one of the many terms-of-endearment he used to address his beautiful and loving wife, but, thought it best to try to stay as emotionally detached as possible for now; “…you will just be forced to hold it and the butt plug will ensure it.
If you noticed, I chose high protein, low carbohydrate foods for dinner over the last few nights. Feces production will be much lower and you should be fine until you are able to have your next bowl movement. You may be uncomfortable but it won’t hurt you.” Kevin had to turn his eyes away from Marissa’s or, he would surely start showing her the emotions he could not afford to reveal to her at this time.
Kevin lifted his wife back to her kneeling position and proceed to finish with her crotch rope now that he had the catheter in place. He tightened the rope uncomfortably tight which helped push the giant plug in her ass even harder into her rectum. He looped the rope back between her legs and threaded the rope through an eyelet attached to the end of the butt plug. He ran the rope over the bind of her wrists, turning it once around her wrist bindings. Then, he run the rope up to her lower elbow ropes, pulling the rope very tight, and tying it off, well out of reach of her fingers.
“If you would like to try to finish off what I would not allow, the crotch rope might help you to get there, but, I doubt it. I used a cream with Novocain and soaked the rope fairly well with it where it crosses your clit and your vagina. You should feel pretty numb down there right now.” Kevin taunted his helpless wife, getting back into his role after getting his emotions back under control…at least for the time being.
He left her alone in the living room again for another trip back to his office. When he returned this time, Marissa could see he had a harness gag and two more bags which, again, looked as if they hermetically sealed sterile bags.
“Please do not bother asking me any questions when I remove your temporary gag. I will not answer them and any speech will only result in me punishing your nipples much more harshly than I had before. Remain quiet and you may not be punished, make a sound, and you most assuredly will be.” Kevin warned his wife before he began to remove the impromptu t-shirt gag.
Kevin removed the now soaked shirt from behind her teeth. Marissa flexed her sore jaw and looked, to Kevin, as if she were going to speak. Kevin just cocked his head a little, wanting to see if she would obey or disobey his order not to speak. He watched her bottom lip quiver, a sign that any layman would understand, let alone a psychiatrist; extreme fear bordering upon shock. Kevin knew the medications he would be giving her would relieve the former and prevent the latter.
He quickly put the small gag up to her mouth, eyeing her in a manner he hoped would remind her of what happened the last time she fought a gag, and eased it into her mouth, assuring the hole was facing out of her mouth and toward her throat. He buckled the harness straps, the chin strap pulled tight so she could not open her mouth and held her teeth tightly against the gag.
Kevin decided it was time to move her to the garage to be packaged up for the shipping company to pick-up this afternoon.
He hefted his wife’s tightly bound body and placed her over his shoulder. She moaned loudly as her body bent. Kevin assumed it was probably the crotch rope tightening and moving the plug in her ass as he was sure the Novocain had her clit and pussy completely dead to any sensation by now.
Kevin leaned Marissa against a wall and told her to stand there. Removing a large blue tarp from the corner of his work space, Kevin revealed a fiberglass sarcophagus he had specially ordered off of her height, dimensions, and dress size. Marissa started to scream when she seen it and the coffin sized wooden shipping crate the bottom half of the fiberglass encasement was sitting in. If Kevin had not reacted as fast as he did, Marissa would have fallen over.
“Relax! Struggling or crying or anything else will not prevent you from being placed into it. The quicker you realize that, the better off you will be.” He said to his young and beautiful wife as he caught her and prevented her from sliding down the wall and falling over.
Kevin lifted his wife and held her the way he did when he carried her over the threshold after they were wed. Carefully, he placed Marissa into the bottom half of the fiberglass enclosure. Her body fit very snug and he made sure her arms were properly situated in the recess designed to keep her from having to bear her weight on them during the trip.
Marissa’s body was almost form-fitted into the fiberglass casing. Her head could not turn, she could not wiggle her body more than the softness of her flesh would allow, and her legs tightly fitted into a trough designed to prevent them from having any room for movement.
“I need to become a doctor again.” Kevin said as he disappeared back into the house. Marissa could not see him return but knew he had when she heard the door reopen and close.
“I need to insert an IV, a feeding tube, and a ventilator. The IV will provide liquid and medication, the feeding tube will, of course, provide you sustenance, and the ventilator will help you breath and not inhale any saliva, and, protect you from aspirating should you vomit. I don’t suspect you will, but, as you will be alone and without medical assistance, I would rather take precautions.” Kevin noticed Marissa’s eyes water profusely as he was orating his well-rehearsed speech. Kevin didn’t bother to dry them. Kevin couldn’t afford to dry them. He felt as if he should be, but, could only hope he was in much more discomfort inside than Marissa was throughout.
The, now Dr. Kevin, placed an IV pick into a vein in the front of her chest, just below her left shoulder. After making sure he had a good placement by flushing the tube and IV catheter, Kevin attached a large bag of 10% Sodium solution. At the flow rate he had calculated, the bag should last the most of the trip and Marissa should only be slightly dehydrated upon arrival at her destination. Using the IV lines injection port, Kevin injected his wife with a shot of Rohypnol and then a shot of Trazadone. He looked at his wife and said, “you will not remember anything that happened to you today. I have chosen these medications specifically for that purpose.”
Kevin waited until the medications had taken effect before he run the feeding tube through her nostril and down into her stomach and the respirator tube down her trachea and into her right lung, avoiding the left due to pneumonia likes to begin in the left, next to the heart. The trachea tube had a filter designed to kill bacteria, viruses, and fungal spores; preventing them from having free access to her lung via the tube.
Marissa’s eyes were open and could track her husband as he prepared to place and mate the fiberglass lid to the bottom which held his wife. But, other than her ability to move her eyes, her body was temporarily paralyzed by the drugs he had injected her with.
The lid fit snuggly in place. Kevin inserted and tightened a dozen and a half bolts around the perimeter lip of the sarcophagus. The top of the lid was festooned with stickers reading; Priceless Statue, and Handle with Extreme Care, and Extremely Fragile. These same warnings also covered the wooden lid Kevin nailed shut after sealing the fiberglass sarcophagus, shutting away the most precious person to ever enter his life. He would not see her again for three and a half months. Her training will last three full months, the additional two-weeks being the train ride to and from the camp.
Kevin hopes Marissa enjoys the three months of slavery boot-camp she was now packaged to be shipped to. Through his extremely thorough research, Kevin found the most prestigious, highest-rated, thus, most-expensive camp of its sort in the world. For him, it will be the longest three months of his life.
Kevin left his wife in the garage, awaiting her scheduled pick-up, and cried until he had no more tears to cry. It is, however, what she wants and he would do anything in the world to please his precious Marissa.
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Part 2: Marissa's Story is the story told from her point of view
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