Second Chance - Cover

Second Chance

SECOND CHANCE is copyright protected. Any use, including reprints, without specific written permission is forbidden and illegal

Chapter 29

DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 29 - 43 year old Carl watched helplessly as Death came for him in the form of an overloaded produce truck. Suddenly he found himself in the body of a 14 year old boy, injured in the same accident. Now Carl had to learn how to live as Brian and cope with a new life and a loving mother.

Caution: This DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Consensual   Science Fiction   DoOver   Incest   Mother   Son   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting  

So I was dead.

RTD.

Really Truly Dead in the eyes of the world,

but

Not Even A Little Dead in reality.

To make it worse, if there is something worse than waking up dead, I was the reason my entire family lost everything they owned. It was hard to raise my face and look at them, after what they all suffered because of me.

When I did look up I found them smiling and happy. They were pleased to see me alive, even after I caused them to become homeless and bereft of their belongings.

Those evil bastards were going to die. I had plenty of money and was willing to spend it by the wheelbarrow to put down the people that did this to Millie and Mr. Bell, Rebecca and Colleen. Benjamin noticed my change of mood and rose up to see if he should bite someone.

Jack caught the entire thing and said something brilliant. "David, since you're dead, you need a new name. Benjamin over there wants to know what to call his best friend, and unless I miss my guess, a couple of children will need to know their daddy's name pretty soon.

"You're safe here. Relax and get your strength back. You and your family need to pick a whole new back story for you, and then you have to memorize every detail like you really lived it. We can help, and I bet with your smarts you'll do fine, but it has to be done, and soon." He had a point, and I didn't need to air any dirty laundry in front of the strangers here.

"Mr. Bell," I said. "Can you and Colleen guide me in how to invent a whole new me? Do you know who to call, what to ask, what I'll need, and how to get it all?

"At least if I have a new identity, I can move about and start to repay you all for the damage I've caused.

"I hate what they did to you, and I know it's all my fault. I hate it, and I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you all. I promise. Somehow, someway, I will fix this all. You've got my word."

I was starting to feel tired, and Rebecca noticed it first. She shooed everyone out and forced me back to bed. At least she crawled in beside me, after I was settled, and we talked.

"Miss Bell, if you would sign everywhere that I marked with a pink marker we will be done." The conference room in Mr. Bell's new office building was packed. After months of negotiations, agreements, disputes, new agreements, and more disputes, we had finally purchased our own Double-A Baseball Club.

Mr. Bell and Colleen smiled at me as the final signatures were placed in the proper places on the reams of paper that made up our agreement. Just as Mr. Bell predicted, it was winter before we could complete the purchase The team finished its season in spectacular fashion, losing eighteen of their last twenty-one games, and the parent club literally shoved the owners out the door, while welcoming our trust as the new owners.

Colleen was a little over seven months pregnant with our son, James Brian Bell. I chose to keep all of my names out of it due to my "irregular" circumstances. Colleen loved being pregnant and glowed more every day, as James presented himself more deliberately all the time.

When he began to kick Colleen got the weirdest expression on her face. Rebecca knew what was up instantly, but it took me a little time to catch on. Colleen grabbed my hand and held it against her bulge, and I felt our son moving around. After that first time, I spent so much time with my hands on her tummy, I'm sure James thought I was a permanent part of his mother's anatomy.

As the lawyers for the sellers departed with our check for far less than they hoped to get for the team, Colleen sighed and rubbed her neck. I knew what that meant and stood behind her, massaging her tight muscles. The knots soon untied and Colleen sighed again, this time from pleasure. Her smile was radiant, as she thanked me with her eyes. I couldn't wait to get her home.

Sherry had taught me an important lesson when she talked about how horny her husband got while she was expecting. Colleen's pregnancy made her spectacularly beautiful, and her hormone changes made her spectacularly horny. It was my solemn duty to keep her satisfied, and I took my responsibilities seriously. Between Rebecca and Colleen, you would think I was made of instant erections. I guess I was. It certainly worked out that way.

Rebecca and Colleen loved having Winnie and Yolanda as part of our lives. Both women bonded immediately to our family, and when asked, they both agreed to stay with us instead of continuing in federal service. I paid Yolanda exceptional wages for any physician, and Winnie discovered how well paid a privately employed protection agent could be.

Jack loved having Winnie so close to us, and supported her in every possible way. Judge Jones did everything but order her to stay on with us, and guaranteed her full pension as a reward for setting aside her career to protect my family.

According to Mr. Bell, the FBI, DOJ, and DHS, were flush with cash due to the ownership change of Tim Sanderson's company. He had been a non-voluntary depository for billions in untraceable mob cash. That company became a gift that kept on giving, as the DOJ maintained discreet control and allowed the money to pour in like water through a faucet. Our compensation continued to mount, and the size of our trust expanded enormously in the intervening months, much to the everlasting joy of the federal government.

Another part of my happiness came about when Jack informed me we would be taking a sudden trip, one day in September. He replied, "Don't ask," when I inquired as to our destination, and the point of our trip, so I knew we would be visiting vengeance on the people who shot me, and bombed our homes.

When we arrived, "Big" Roy met us as the off-the-books chopper dropped us off somewhere in south Florida. "Jack, David," he greeted us and went right to business. "Our targets are sleeping the sleep of the dead, because we made them dead about an hour ago. They barely attempted to resist when we questioned them, but one go round with a Coke can and they told us everything including their mother's bra sizes.

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