Several hours later, Olivia returned home in a Lincoln Town Car, and needed physical assistance to get inside my condominium. I assume that the imposing stretch limousine was Baldwin's, and he had elected to send her home in it rather than calling her an Uber, due to her poor physical state. When I opened the rear door of the Town Car, Olivia was naked except for an oversized, Green Bay Packers football jersey, which bore the name of my favorite player, David Bakhtiara. The rear of the shirt was soaking wet, and as I reached into the rear compartment to assist Olivia to her feet, I was assaulted by the distinct odor of urine.
Apparently Baldwin had dressed her up in my team's colors and urinated on her as she knelt on his doorstep, awaiting her ride home. There was a large sheet of plastic on the rear seat, upon which she was forced to sit, as if she were a muddy dog being taken home to be bathed.
Olivia just wanted to sleep, but I persuaded her to let me clean up her wounds first. I ran a warm bath for her and helped her out of the sodden jersey, trying to suppress my anger at the way she had been treated. Baldwin had whipped her severely, using the rattan cane judging by the appearance of her welts. I knew that Olivia feared that particular instrument of torture, and the constant threat of it had contributed to her fragile mental state. She had been restrained for a lengthy period of time too, the ligature marks visible on her wrists and ankles.
Her lower back was extremely red, inflamed and raw from where Baldwin had instructed Madison to remove the Henna tattoo, announcing that she was the "Property of Maxwell." In typical Madison style, she had used a stiff scrubbing brush, rubbing alcohol, and some good old-fashioned elbow grease, to purge Olivia's back clean of the distasteful marking.
I poured Olivia a glass of wine, and administered her some painkillers, after ascertaining that she hadn't ingested any other drugs or medications. As she tried to relax in my deep Japanese soaking tub, I bathed her tenderly, and washed her hair, matted as it was with semen. Even though Olivia was about my age, I felt a strong paternal connection to her, and wanted her to understand that she was under my protection from now on.
Tears fell down my face as I apologized to her for my failure to insulate her from Madison's abuse, and in that moment we forged a deep connection, and an understanding of our relationship. While the sexual component was not completely eliminated, I never asked Olivia to do anything demeaning again, and on the occasions that we hooked up, it was all about our mutual enjoyment. We would make love tenderly in front of the fireplace, or on one of my private ocean-front balconies, ensuring that she was completely and utterly satisfied, before I got to orgasm inside her.
As the days dragged into weeks, I came to the realization that Madison and I were done, and I slowly adapted to life without her. Newport Beach is a small town, or at least the affluent areas that I frequented, and I would see her out and about, cruising around in a Pink Convertible Bentley, which bore the personalized license plates "MADI TOY."
I knew Jody's car had a similar vanity plate, "JODY TOY" and wondered if Baldwin had ordered Rachel an equally demeaning license plate, demonstrating his ownership of her too. I ran into Baldwin once in a while, at local car meets and the occasional charity auction. He was cordial of course, as one would expect in the company of these older philanthropists, although he would take potshots at me when we were alone.
On one occasion, at an auction to benefit the Red Cross, I bumped into him in the restroom of all places. As I positioned myself at a urinal a few feet from where he was peeing, he started in on me.
"Don't be shy, Pete," he said condescendingly. "No-one is judging you here."
It was a thinly-veiled reference to my diminutive cock size, and it put me immediately on the defensive.
"I was just trying to give you a little room," I said politely, trying not to engage him.
"Aren't you interested in whether the rumors about my mammoth cock are true?" he said laughing.
"What did you donate to the auction, Steve?" I asked, trying to change the subject.
"Well," he began with a smirk, "I donated a very unique and collectible sculpture by Stella Shawzin, although judging by the lack of interest in the piece, I wish I had offered Jody's asshole up for sale again. It sold for ten grand the last time it was available, and I understand at one point you were trying to purchase it for yourself," he added with a flourish. "Jody showed me the signed memorandum of understanding."
I knew that there was no chance of me winning this exchange, so after I finished my business, I backed off, moving towards the sink to wash my hands. Sensing my reluctance to fight back, Baldwin, ever the Alpha male, continued on his offensive.
"Make sure you wash your hands," he said cheerfully. "The stench of urine is such a foul odor. I remember how much Olivia stunk when I took a piss on her, before sending her back to your place. Did you ever get my piss stains out of your beloved Packers shirt?"
As I headed for the door he kicked me in the nuts once more, evoking his ownership of my ex-fiancée, Madison.
"I should put that washed-up bitch Madison on the auction block," he said coldly. "My concern is that you will bid on her, in a last-ditch attempt to fuck her one more time."
I was so relieved to get out of that restroom, and I returned to my table with his taunts ringing in my ears. The rest of the auction went without issue, and I ended up successfully bidding on a few items for the good cause. My philanthropy at such a young age was not lost on some of the older, more established patrons of the cause, and several of them engaged me as the evening wore down, to congratulate me on being on the right path.
As luck would have it, I was talking with Larry Dodge and his wife, two of Orange County's most generous benefactors, when Baldwin joined us. Forced to be polite in the company of two people that he respected, Baldwin made small talk until the subject of his upcoming sixtieth birthday came up.
"Are you going, Pete?" Larry asked me, which was awkward as I was just about the last person that Baldwin would have invited.
Before I could even respond that I wasn't invited, Larry took over the conversation.
"Of course you are," he said cheerfully. "In fact, I want you to come with me. My car will pick you up so that you can enjoy a cocktail. I know the gathering is men only, so I am sure we will be getting pretty rowdy."
As Baldwin looked on from the sidelines, nodding his affirmations politely, the plan was set. Larry's driver would pick me up at 7pm, we could enjoy a cocktail in his limousine and head over to Steve's to celebrate his sixtieth birthday. I left the charity event shortly after that, and it wasn't until I got home that I realized that I was going to be inside the house of my nemesis. I was grateful that it was a male-only event, as the sight of Madison flitting around, playing his dutiful girlfriend would have been emasculating, to say the least. Also, I really couldn't face Jody and Rachel after their recent attempt to play me.
I was a little nervous as the hour of Baldwin's party approached, but after Olivia helped me to get dressed in my best suit, I felt a resurgence in my self-confidence. Larry's driver picked me up at the appointed hour, and I enjoyed a stiff vodka in the back of the limousine as we headed to Baldwin's place. As we drove up his extended driveway, there was an impressive array of sports cars assembled there. I wished I had arrived in my Orange Lamborghini to steal the show, until I noticed Baldwin's LaFerrari parked front and center, which would have totally upstaged my exotic car.
To my amazement, there was a Bugatti Chiron parked there too, just about the most expensive car you would ever see, at least that could be driven on a daily basis. Sure, there were vintage Ferraris hidden away in climate-controlled garages all over Southern California, but they weren't actually ever driven. By contrast, the Bugatti Chiron, available at around three million dollars, was the ultimate display of automotive wealth.
When I picked up my Lamborghini Aventador from the Newport Beach dealership, they had a Chiron there for sale. I had a feeling that it was probably out of my price range, and I was astounded to learn that the lease payment was sixty-five thousand dollars per month, ten times the amount I paid to lease my Aventador. Seeing the car in the flesh was an awesome and eye-opening experience, and an indicator of the wealth that some of these guests possessed.
Inexplicably, nestled among the expensive toys was a late-model Toyota Camry, and I wondered if maybe the Doctor from the Super Bowl Party was there. He had been persona non grata at that event, so I had no clue how he had wrangled an invite here, if indeed that was his car.
After we parked the limo, my heart sank as I saw Jody and Rachel greeting the wealthy men at the door of the opulent residence. As usual, they were dressed identically, dolled up in matching baby-blue Dior cocktail dresses and high-heels. Baldwin had purchased identical jewelry for them to wear, had their hair and make-up professionally done, and had adorned them with matching baby-blue ribbons, arranged in their hair in such a way as to make them appear coquettish.
There were a couple of guys in line ahead of me, and I overheard the interaction between them and the host. Baldwin didn't even acknowledge the girls' names or individual identities as he introduced them, simply referring to them as "the twins." They stood at the door welcoming the guests with a kiss on the cheek and a glass of champagne, undoubtedly stirring a physical reaction from each of the male guests.
When it was my turn to be introduced, Baldwin smirked and whispered in muted tones so that no-one else would hear.
"Pete, you have already met my toys."
With that statement of ownership made, Jody handed me a glass of champagne, and they both gave me the obligatory kiss on the cheek, causing an immediate and involuntary expansion in my underwear. When I entered the room, it was evident that all of the men had visible hard-ons, having witnessed the twins being presented to them like a couple of fuck-toys. These guys were wealthy Alpha males, used to having their way around women. So, shortly after Rachel and Jody joined the gathering, the men started taking liberties with them.
