Chapter 24
Various Interviews in a Hospital Room

Tabitha started swimming toward consciousness around five-thirty. It was slow going, at first because of the sedative, and after because her mind shrank away from the wall of agony that being fully awake brought with it. Dumbjohn had kept her clothing; he'd tied her wrists behind her with a plastic cable tie, but left her legs unfettered. Also present was her wooden brassiere -- her breasts were still nailed to the plywood and her nipples were still pierced and stretched by the rubber bands. Between the dull agony of the nails and the sharper pain of the stressed piercings, Tabitha would have welcomed a double mastectomy. The alleyway road surface was cold; it was in the mid-fifties, which is just a bit too cool to be good for someone stretched out naked on the ground. This added exposure to blood loss from various wounds and debilitating pain. On top of everything else, the nail tips had bored shallow flesh-wounds in her ribs...

Any movement made things worse. The loss of the use of her hands made attempting to sit up an agonizing, iffy process. The gag was gone, but pain robbed her of any ability to project her voice. It was six forty-five before anyone heard her plaintive cries for help; then came the obligatory interminable delay for the police and the paramedics...

The team in the ER had frankly never seen anything like it. The initial plan was to cut off the nail heads, but the roofing washers protected them too well. Besides, any grinding or sawing transmitted itself to Tabitha. The paramedics had removed the rubber bands, which brought things down quite a bit as far as the pain went, but Tabitha was still shocky. Finally, they used a two by four and a couple of C-clamps to press the tips of the nails back to something resembling flush with the plywood, and pulled them with a claw hammer as Dumbjohn had. They bandaged various wounds, gave her a tetanus shot, and moved her up to the ward. Tabitha raised a ruckus over the needles, declaiming, "The fuckin' things are pierced -- might as well leave 'em that way. Git me somethin' to stick in the holes before you pull the goddamn needles out!" The nurse shrugged, irrigated the piercings, and left the needles in place.

After that came a short, useless interview with a police detective. Both of them knew who was behind the attack, but both of them ALSO knew that there was no way they'd be able to pin it on him -- and Tabitha said as much, "Even if we get the bastard did this, we won't pin it on the asshole who ordered it. This muthafuckah was good, too -- you ain't catchin' HIM, either!" The cop nodded and shrugged, took her statement, and left.

Nate got the word at school; when he left home that morning, he was unconcerned, since his Mama had been known to stay out for days when she felt like it. So when Principal Hollenbeck's voice over the intercom interrupted Industrial Arts class with, "Please send Nate Adams to my office," Nate looked up, frowned, and muttered, "I ain't done nothin'..." Coach Johnson scribbled him a hall pass and nodded toward the door; for him, the jury was still out over whether Nate had done anything or not.

This wasn't Nate's first visit with the Principal by any means, but the secretary was missing her usual look of irritation when she noted his presence. She buzzed the Principal on the intercom, "Nate Adams is here."

"Send him in."

'What? No stewin' in the hall first?' Nate wondered, as he strode to the door. He opened it and Mr. Hollenbeck, on the phone, waved him into a seat. Nate settled warily.

In a moment, Mr. Hollenbeck pinched of the call and looked up. "Son, I have bad news."

"I ain't done nothing."

"Anything."

"I ain't done anything."

Hollenbeck rolled his eyes. "That's not at issue, here." He sighed. "I called you in because the police called me, looking for you; your mother was attacked last night."

"Shit." Nate studied the floor. So, it had finally gone down. Mama'd been lucky for quite a while... "She dead?"

"No, but she's hospitalized. She was rather thoroughly raped, and pretty fiendishly tortured, I'm told. The police said that she's going to recover, but she had exposure, some wounds, blood loss... You should go on up to the hospital and see her. I told them that you were here as usual, and their interest in you as a suspect dropped off." Hollenbeck eyed Nate. "I take it that she didn't come home last night."

Nate shrugged. "Night before, either. She runs with a rough bunch. Lotsa times, I see her when I see her."

"I see." Hollenbeck sighed. Having had to chase her on occasion when Nate was in trouble for something, he was aware that she 'worked nights', and had a pretty good idea what Ms. Adams did for a living... "I'm going to excuse you so that you can go to the hospital. Call me if you need to be out tomorrow."

"Uh, thank you, Sir." Nate got up and handled Hollenbeck his hall pass to receive the proper signoffs.

"Good luck, Son."

"Uh, thanks." Neither of the pair was used to dealing with the other amicably, so both were oddly uncomfortable at the parting. As the door closed, Hollenbeck picked up the phone to call the police detective, wondering if relating the contents of the interview with him was entrapment. Apparently, it wasn't in Nate's case; while the boy seemed unsurprised that his mother might be attacked in general, it was also pretty clear that he hadn't expected anything last night in particular...

Nate went back to IA and gathered up his things. Coach eyed him warily, so he displayed the Principal's note. "Goin' home. Family problem." He cleared out and went to his locker, dumping his stuff and collecting his coat. Second period was about over, anyway, so he headed over to the English Department to catch Nora as she popped out of class. His timing was just about perfect; the bell rang as he arrived at the door.

Nora sensed trouble as soon as she looked at him. "Honey, what's up?"

"Gotta go to the hospital. Somebody beat the shit out of Mama." Nate looked seriously off his feed. Things were settling in. The shock was over and he was off automatic, actually thinking about it.

"Want me to go, too?"

"Nah. This was always somethin' that could happen. It just never has, before. I'll go get a look and call you."

"Okay. If you need anything, let me know. Maybe I can come up at lunch." Nora was worried for Nate; he was starting to look kind of pasty grey.

"Okay. I'll call you when I know more." Nora bussed him on the cheek and he returned it, then turned away, distracted.

Nora watched him go, troubled, then got a move on, headed for her next class. At her locker, it suddenly occurred to her that this might be related to the attack on her mother, so Nora snatched her phone out of her purse and called the newest number programmed into it.

"Wilson."

"Daddy?"

"Nora?"

"Daddy, somebody beat up Nate's mother last night. She's in the hospital. You don't think..."

Armand blinked. The obvious answer was 'No', but he couldn't afford to BE that obvious. Besides, this was going to be an issue with Nora and her boyfriend. "I doubt it -- Nate's mother is in a somewhat dangerous profession, so it is probably unrelated. But I'll have an investigation started."

"Thanks, Daddy."

"Thank YOU, Daughter. Good thinking." Armand hung up. It gave him an odd glow that she should come to him for support... "Get me Witherspoon," he directed his secretary, Charlene.

It took forty-five minutes for Nate to get to the hospital and run down his mother's room. He blew off the gift shop, figuring seeing her sooner was better than coming later with something stupid in his hands. Women were weird, but maybe not THAT weird... "Mama?"

"Nate?" Tabitha sat up. " 'Bout time..."

"I was in school..." She didn't LOOK that bad... "You okay? I figured..."

"Most of it don't show," his mother replied. "He fucked up my ass and my pussy on the insides, and he did this..." She flipped down the covers to expose her bandaged breasts.

Nate looked -- and couldn't see much. They were all bandaged... "What'd he do?"

"Nailed 'em to a board," his mother replied flatly. "An' he pierced the nipples, too. Oh, an' this..." She stuck out her tongue. "Forgot to mention that to the docs."

"Shit!" Nate shook his head. "Who was it?"

"Dunno," Tabitha grunted. "Professional. This guy's fucked up women before."

There was a tap on the door. "Can I listen in?" There was a muscular white guy, forty or so, with a mustache, there.

"You a cop?" Tabitha asked suspiciously.

"Nope, P I. But looks to me like you were on the right side of the law for this one..."

"I cain't hire no private investigators. Run along..."

"I work for Armand Wilson."

That got the man two amazed looks. "Say what?" Tabitha blurted.

"Mr. Wilson keeps the firm I work for on retainer. Given the relationship between your son and his daughter, he would like us to see if we can't discover who did this and get you a little payback, if not 'justice'." The man put quote marks around the term with his fingers. "There is the possibility that this was meant as an attack on him, as his ex-wife was also attacked yesterday -- but even if the attacks are unrelated we're prepared to bring resources to bear to discover the perpetrators that aren't too closely fettered by the law..."

Tabitha shook her head. "I will be dipped in shit..."

Nate scratched his head. "Yeah, I see that." Turning to his mother, he amplified, "Three guys pretending to be plumbers showed up at Nora's Mama's place and stuck dicks in her about everywhere. They moved back in with her Daddy last night."

"They fuck her up?" Tabitha asked.

"Nope, jus' fucked her. Three at a time was kinda new, though."

Tabitha cackled, winced, and turned to the investigator. "So, what do I call ya?"

"Paul. Paul Matheson." The PI came forward and extended a hand.

Tabitha took it, but she watched his eyes. "Okay, what d'ya wanta hear?"

"Everything." Matheson took out a tape recorder. "Whatever you told the cops, and whatever else is relevant. I don't care what you were doing, for instance. Well, I want to know, but I'm not going to be judgmental." He grinned.

Tabitha nodded warily. "Okay. You know what I do, right?"

Matheson was up-front. "Prostitute, right?"

"Yeh. I got a strip of sidewalk off the corner of Fourteenth and Womack. Mebbe nine o'clock, the john wheels around the corner. Nice car..."

"Make?"

"Ummmm, Beemer, I think. German. Anyway, I wave the merchandise and he pulls up an' rolls down the window, an' we start negotiating."

"What did he look like?"

"Average. Wasn't nothin' special 'bout him, anywhere. Nice suit. Thinning hair. Forty, maybe. Acted like he knew basically what the plan was, but he'd never actually done it, so I got ready to whip my higher price list on him. Then, no warning, he sucker-punches me." She shook her head. "When I woke up later, I had a needle mark; dunno how long I was out. This guy was a pro. He had everything laid out, everything planned. I was in some basement, somewhere -- I think."

"What could you see?"

"Dark room, cement walls, wood floor. Well, there was wood everywhere I could see. There was tile behind me -- a big, open shower, I guess. I never saw it, but he said sumpthin' 'bout tile an' a drain durin' the enema."

"Enema?" Nate echoed.

"Yeah. Lemme get through this in one pass, Boy, an' we can go back for loose shit after!" She leaned back. "Ummm. I was bent over a sawhorse, an' my arms an' legs was tied to it. Couldn't see behind me under the sawhorse 'cause there was a hunk of plywood tacked to it. He said sumpthin' 'bout my luck runnin' out -- like I didn't know THAT -- an' mumbled sumpthin' 'bout I shoulda had a pimp. I got feisty with him an' he slapped the shit outta me, 'bout a half-dozen times. While my head was spinnin', he stuck this dentist's gadget between my jaws, an' jacked 'em wide open." Tabitha paused. "Boy, would you get me some water outta that pitcher, there?" She nodded at the tray table against the wall.

"Sure." Nate collected a paper cup, poured, and handed it to his mother.

Tabitha thanked him with her eyes while she gulped down several swallows. As Nate took the cup to refill it, she continued her tale, "Anyway, I was fucked -- couldn't hardly talk. Bastard announced that he liked blowjobs from women wit' their tongues pierced. He got a hold of my tongue with some tongs and stuck a big fucking needle through it, then replaced it with this..." She stuck out her tongue. "Hurt like Hell, an' you could tell he was milkin' it for that. He squirted some shit in my mouth -- said it was Listerine, alcohol, an' salt -- an' got a big kick outta me yellin' at the pain."

"Big needle?" Matheson asked his first question since the start. "How big?"

"Say, this long?" Tabitha measured out about four and a half inches. Paul looked dubious, and Tabitha grunted. "Awright, you two help me wit' this wrap..."

Paul stepped forward, not knowing why, and Nate got the clips from the Ace bandage wrapped around Tabitha's saggy bust. The two of them took up positions on either side of the bed and handed the roll to each other for the six passes it took to get down to gauze padding. Tabitha lifted packing from her nipples, revealing the needles still piercing them. " 'Bout THAT long."

Nate's eyes bugged. Tabitha glared at him challengingly and said, "Since the bastard did 'em, I might as well keep 'em. Get me somethin' proper to replace these fuckin' things, willya? Damned ER docs wouldn't put in anything -- I had to piss an' moan to get 'em to leave these for now."

Matheson was non-plussed. "Sorry I disbelieved you. Some people's perceptions get distorted at times like this..."

" 'S'okay." Tabitha waved it off. "While we're here..." She peeled the surgical tape off the wound on the upper side of her left breast, grimacing. "He did THAT with a big fuckin' nail -- nailed 'em both to the plywood! Cops got pictures..." Nate was weaving a little. "Siddown, boy, before ya fall down. It's over, an' I guess I'm gonna make it. Let's get this shit put back together before a fuckin' nurse shows up..."

The rewrap wasn't as professional-looking as the original, but it did the job. Tabitha resumed, "Anyway, then he like to drowned me, rinsing my mouth wit' a garden hose. Fucker was enjoyin' hisself. Then he put a ring gag on me. You know what a ring gag is, don'tcha?" Matheson, somewhat embarrassed, nodded. "Well, this 'un was special. He had a buncha rings, an' he custom fitted it, like. Then he stuck a rubber stopper in it, an' he snapped this strap over that to keep me from pushin' it out wit' my tongue. Like THAT was gonna happen... Anyway, the thing also had a flat ring of thin rubber on it, bigger than my mouth. Sonofabitch pinched my nose, an' I couldn't breathe through the mess! Thought I was gonna die! Fucker waited til I wasn't hardly there before he let up..."

Tabitha nodded toward the water, and Nate handed her the cup. After a sip, she continued, "Then he went 'round back. Oh, he pulled the stopper out so he could listen to me makin' noise -- he said as much." She grunted. "Big joke was he was cleanin' me up -- that was his excuse for a bunch of shit... He sucked up some stuff in a big bulb, like an ear bulb -- soap, I think. I hope to fuck it was soap! And he shot it in my ass. THEN, he took this cone tip, screwed it on a garden hose, an' poured I don't fucking know HOW much cold goddamned water in my ass!" She shivered, remembering. "It was soooo cold... My stomach felt like it swelled up to where it was when I was eight months out with Nate..." She shivered again. "He pulled it out an' I probly shot shit forty feet -- but I was out of it. The cold..." She shook herself. "Oh, yeah. Bastard was makin' a video! He had a camera on my ass while he pumped that shit in, an' he pulled a TV over in front of me so I could watch!" She hung her head. "An' I couldn't look away..." She shook herself. "Cramps was awful. I fuckin' passed out watchin' shit squirt everywhere..." She shook her head. "I THINK he did me again, with warmer water, but I ain't sure. All I know is when I woke up when he threw some water in my face, an' I was warm again an' it felt like some time had gone by..."

Matheson was shaking his head. "Pretty wild..."

"Gets worse," Tabitha asserted. "Sumbitch shoved a bottle brush up my twat an' went to town with the fuckin' thing! I think he scraped all the lining outta my pussy! And THEN, the fucker took a turkey baster and shot alcohol up there! Jeezus fuckin' Christ! I passed out again, sometime in there, but came to pretty quick." She sipped from the cup. "Fucker decided I was clean, so he came around an' stuck his cock in my mouth through the gag, wantin' head. But I couldn't work -- God knows I didn't feel like screwing around with the muthafuckah! -- the goddamned ring gag and the tongue stud got in the fuckin' way. He got all pissed off, an' said I was fuckin' around on him; next thing I know, he's standin' there with a hammer and a bunch of big fuckin' nails..." She gathered herself, took a breath. "He nailed the left one, an' it hurt like fuck -- then he starts talkin' 'bout what'd happen if things didn't get better. I dunno how I did it, but I managed to get across the idea that I'd do better without the fuckin' gag. He pulled it an' mumbled sumpthin' 'bout next I'd want my hands, an' I got stupid an' agreed with him. He decided that if he nailed BOTH my tits down, an' put big fuckin' washers under the heads so I couldn't pull free, he could let go my arms. At that point, I was tryin' like Hell to back pedal, but..." She shook her head. "He did the right one, then he pulled the left one back OUT to put a washer on it. Felt AWFUL -- I puked my guts out! Goin' back in wasn't no picnic, neither..."

Matheson shook his head. This was the damnedest thing he'd ever heard, in twenty-plus years of detective work. "Jesus."

"Funny, he let up an' wandered off for a while, an' I managed to get sorta used to it. When he came back, he wanted that blowjob -- an' I made DAMNED sure he got what he wanted, I can tell you! He didn't shoot in me, tho -- kinda squeezed hisself off -- instead he went 'round back an' shot some more alcohol in my pussy, and started humpin' away. Felt like he was pushin' around ground glass in there, but he tol' me if I didn't get him off, he'd find sumpthin' else to do... I got humpin' -- I jus' couldn't take nuthin' else!" She sipped from the cup. "I got him off, so he came 'round and shoved it in my mouth to get it goin' again, which took some work, but I managed it. So he goes around to do my ass an' he picks up some lube -- but the muthafuckah was usin' Ben-Gay! Then he put on another rubber an' pounds away -- I fuckin' lost it, totally; it was jus' too fuckin' much!"

"Shit, I guess!" This recitation was frankly unbelievable -- except for the fact that Matheson was absolutely certain the woman wasn't lying!

Tabitha nodded. "When I woke up, he'd put that fuckin' gag in again, an' he re-tied my hands. Then he started talkin' 'bout makin' improvements on me, an' next thing I know, here he come with the fuckin' needle again! He did my left nipple, then he started fuckin' with me, enjoyin' it while he scared me with the fuckin' needle. Finally, he does the right, an' I kinda figure, okay, what's next, fer chrissakes? An' he takes a coupla rubber bands an' loops 'em over the needles, then stretches 'em under the board an' over the nail tips! It was fuckin' gawdawful -- I couldn't hardly handle it! I wasn't even payin' any attention when he shut off my nose again... I remember him sayin' sumpthin' 'bout it bein' time to say goodbye, now, but it didn't even register, then... Woke up in an alley, buck naked, with my hands tied behind my back an' my tits still nailed to the plywood an' the goddamned rubber bands still on... Somebody had to call the paramedics, 'cause I was all cold an' couldn't move..."

Nate was beyond words. Matheson shook his head. "Any idea who did this?"

Tabitha shook her head. "The guy wore a mask in the basement, so I don' even know if it was the same guy that clocked me -- but I think it was. He was fuckin' perfect -- there was nothin' 'bout him that stuck out, no warning I was in the shit. As for who ordered it, I'm pretty sure of that, but there ain't never gonna be no evidence."

"Yeah? Who?"

"Rodday," Tabitha grunted. "Rodney Pinkham. Pimp tryin' to sew up downtown. This got his mark all over it -- 'sides, he came by to fuck with me the other day..." She ruminated a moment. "Maybe I AM lucky -- somebody else mighta jus' fuckin' killed me or cut off a tit or sumpthin'."

"I'm going to get right on this," Matheson assured her. "I'll be getting back to you. Ummm, if you'd sign this form, I can get stuff from the cops..."

Tabitha eyed him suspiciously. "This ain't gonna cost me, is it? I don' know how I'm gonna pay for THIS place..."

"Mr. Wilson has already ordered this and agreed to pay. After hearing your tale, I'd have been tempted to look for this animal for free! Some things go beyond money..." He shook his head.

"You catch him, I wanna hold his fuckin' balls in my hand again..." She squeezed her fist together. She took the paper, glanced at it briefly, and inked her signature to it.

"What about Rodday? What if he ordered it?"

"Fucker's worse -- I'd rather do HIM than the guy he hired to do the work! But of course, the fucker is untouchable... An' if I can get my shit to workin' again, I'll probly end up workin' for the fuckin' bastard."

"Well, you never know," Matheson replied. "Any number of things could happen to Mr. Pinkham if we can tie the job to him. And some of them might not be strictly legal..."

"You do sumpthin' 'bout Rodday, an' I might have to move in wit' ya -- be the easiest way to give ya free pussy fer life..." Tabitha grinned, and Matheson chuckled.

"We'll see," he replied, and picked up Nate with his eyes. "I'll be in touch when I have something." Outside in the hall, he told Nate, "Your Mama's pretty fucking impressive. I'm going to pass this to Mr. Wilson, right away, and I have no doubt that there will be a team on this. This is absolute bullshit."

"Not to be a fuckin' asshole, but why would he care?" Nate asked. "It's just the kind of shit goes down downtown..."

Matheson's eyes twinkled. "Well, you're family, kind of, aren't you? Mr. Wilson doesn't take kindly to that kind of thing."

"Huh. Really?"

"Really." Matheson turned, then looked back. "I meant what I said about doing it for free, too. Some things just go too far."

Nate shrugged. "Mama was right -- some folk would've just killed her."

Matheson nodded. "True. In some ways that might have been better. Does your mother ever fuck for fun?"

"Dunno. We don't talk about it." Nate shrugged.

"After this, she probably won't. Even worse, she might not be able to in order to make a living, either. She's tough, but she could probably use a few sessions with a shrink -- which you can't afford... Rodday may have sentenced her to a slow death."

Nate sighed. "That ain't really no different. I been waitin' for the drugs to kill her since I was knee high..."

"And it hasn't happened. Know why? She's tough, that's why. But if she can't use her money-maker..."

"Yeh." Nate got it.

"You'd be in trouble, too -- but you aren't, the way things are right now."

"Maybe, maybe not. Me an' Nora -- that's love, not money."

Matheson grinned tightly. "Sometimes, you hit the lottery. You've got the right attitude. Don't ride it, and try to pay back where you can. But take what you have to -- Mr. Wilson can spare it. Gotta go -- I want those pictures. Call Nora -- she'll be worried." He strode off down the hall.

Nate went back into his mother's hospital room. "What'd he say?" Tabitha wanted to know.

Nate grinned. "Said you was tough as old boot leather. Talked big shit about puttin' a bunch of people on this. Said this thing might fuck with your head -- screw you up so you can't work."

Tabitha's eyes narrowed. "I'll be a lot more cautious -- THAT's for sure!"

Nate raised an eyebrow. "Too cautious?"

Tabitha glared. If you were too cautious, you lost customers. And income. And... "Bastard might be right."

"He ain't expecting no free pussy, either," Nate added, "although I bet he wouldn't turn it down..."

"Well, THAT's out for a while, the Doc says, an' blowjobs don' pay too well... I kinda hope to fuck this thing in my tongue is a drawing card." Tabitha sighed. "Gotta try to get outta here tomorrow -- there goes the grocery money, for about six months..."

Nate sighed. "I'm gonna call Nora and see what they got in the gift shop for them holes. Awright?"

"Yeh. I wanna nap a bit, while the pain meds allow it. Git outta here."

Nate kissed her cheek, anyway. The pair of them weren't any too demonstrative, but she WAS his mother... The hospital had all of those stupid rules about cell phones, despite the fact that the nurses were all using wireless laptops to record vitals in patient records (morons!) so Nate had to step outside to call. Nora's cell wasn't on, since the school was bitchy about such things, too, so he left a message, "Mama's fine, basically, but she was fucked with pretty bad. Some dude came in claiming your Daddy sent him an' Mama poured it all out. It like to made my hair all stand out straight -- you gotta hear it! Mebbe you can come by after school... Love ya!" Nate hated leaving messages -- seemed like he always sounded like a dork... He headed off to the gift shop.

Matheson went downstairs and tried to get the ER team on duty; fortunately, the seven to three shift had seen the action. They didn't have the plywood or nails -- the police took them for evidence -- but someone had taken digital pictures and Matheson talked an orderly out of one. It was pretty spectacular; everyone in the ER was buzzing about it. There was a newspaper reporter snooping around, but he was having a hard time finding a way to portray the whole thing properly in print; since Tabitha was a hooker, she couldn't get too much sympathy from a policy point of view, and they couldn't print the pictures -- which MADE the story -- because little old ladies and various moral windbag types would be squicked.

Next, Matheson went to talk to his police contact, who came up with the file pretty quickly. "This thing already in the dead file?" Matheson asked.

"We gave it to a young sucker this morning, but he's already put it in the bottom of his in box -- aside from circulating the pics, which are pretty wild," the cop admitted, shrugging. "We know who ordered it -- Rodday Pinkham has been making hay with it with other holdout whores all day, and there's a tale out there that there is a video -- but the guy who actually did it is a pro. There have been a couple of other, sort of similar cases, here and in a couple of towns to the north and west, but no one has ever gotten a grip on the guy. Besides, the bitch is alive, and aside from some puncture wounds, okay. Viewed that way, she's damned lucky, and it's not worth a homicide-level investigation. Given what she does..." He shrugged again.

"Well, the external stuff is superficial, but she might never want to fuck again," Matheson hazarded.

The cop's eyebrows went up. "And that makes her different from my wife -- how?" The pair chuckled.

Matheson went to the office and prepared his initial report, complete with Tabitha's audio description, a transcript, and the pictures, and got it to the day supervisor, who took one look at the pics, listened to thirty second's worth of audio, and kicked it up to Witherspoon.

The whole mess was on Armand Wilson's desk by two p.m. "You will make every effort to confirm Pinkham's involvement," he directed. "And you will identify who he reports to and what his alliances are with the local organizations. I will want to know who I am dealing with when I discuss this with him. I am also interested in discovering the identity of his agent -- but Pinkham may provide me with that directly, given the proper incentives." Jason, hovering nearby, grinned his shark's grin while Witherspoon acknowledged his instructions; the words were innocuous, but Rodday was in for some time in the playroom, quite probably. "Oh, and if there IS a video -- and the evidence says there is -- I want it."

"Yes, Sir."

Armand hung up and turned to Jason. "Inform our medical insurer that both Tabitha Adams and her son are employees with full benefits, effective day before yesterday. The current hospitalization is to be covered."

"Yes, Sir." Jason scribbled notes.

"Jorge is to pick up my daughter after school and come here to collect me, whereupon we will depart for the hospital."

"Yes, Sir." Jorge was picking up and delivering, anyway, until the busing issues involved in the change of address were ironed out with the school.

"And find a work crew for Nate -- delivery -- he needs income." Dismissed, Jason left.

"Omigod!" Nora exclaimed. The picture of Nate's mom taken in the alley by the police was incredibly graphic. "It's awful!"

"Hmmmm. Well, I've done similar things, but I don't think I've done that many to one person in a single scene," her father remarked blandly, "and MY play partners consent to their treatment. Still, it's impressive..."

"Oh?" Nora eyed her father archly. "ALL of them? Mom, too?"

Armand eyed his daughter blandly. "You know the answer to that. Your mother's noises are just that -- noises. She gives lip service to what she's been told is proper behavior, but her REAL tastes reveal themselves regularly."

"You trained her to do that!" Nora objected.

"Well, yes," Armand agreed, "but the latency, the capacity, was there from the first day that I confronted her in High School. I but released the slave in her -- I didn't create it."

Nora eyed her father sidelong. "I won't argue. Do you have any idea how you're going to handle things now that you have what you want?"

Armand actually looked bothered, for the first time in their short acquaintance. "Er, no, actually. There are a great number of questions. I'm going to have to proceed slowly. Your mother may never become the dilettante that I am -- but I would like to see her experience broadened. I don't foresee us being re-married, but I can't decide whether I should resume attracting toys... I'm going to resume using her, perhaps more often -- but what that means as far as her status in the household isn't clear, yet..."

"What is MY status, Daddy?"

"That is much clearer, Daughter. You are a free woman, perhaps the only one in My household. Young Bianca is also free, but she remains her mother's child..."

"You need to end this thing of her serving the Wench, Daddy. It's not right."

"Perhaps. But they're friends, now, anyway. It won't stop Bianca from seeking the Wench out as a friend."

Nora shrugged. "What about Jason and her mother?"

Armand chuckled. "However much it horrifies Jason when he thinks about it, the pair are becoming quite domestic. And Jason is acting in loco parentis where Bianca is concerned, quite honorably. I will be watching to ensure that doesn't change, but frankly, I don't expect it to..."

"What about the mistreatment?" Nora asked.

"Is that what it is?" Armand countered. "I'm not certain that either of them would share your opinion, Daughter."

Nora held her peace. Daddy might be right.

At noon, Nora had checked her voicemail to find Nate's invitation, and then at two-fifteen, before she got out of class, she'd gotten another from Daddy, outlining their itinerary. Well, it worked for her... Now, they were pulling up before the hospital. "Why are you here, Daddy? I know I asked you to look into this, but..."

"I'm uncertain that I can explain it, Daughter. There is something in this affair that I find... repellent... even though I have done certain similar things before. The fact that you and Nate are dating make this almost a family matter, and instinct tells me I'm involved, somewhere..."

Nate was thrilled to see Nora, but less so to see her father -- the guy was just scary! Still, there he was... "Mama, this is Nora, and this is her Daddy..."

Tabitha sized up the girl with a glance, but her father demanded more attention. "You be Armand Wilson? Howcum you're here?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nora suggested that I have your little incident investigated. I find it pretty amazing, in some ways." Armand replied. He tossed a packet on the bed. "You were a mess when you came in this morning."

Tabitha opened the packet. Nate, looking over her shoulder, gasped. "Jeezus!"

Tabitha looked at the pictures and looked up. "Wasn't no fun, but I'm alive..."

"Yes," Armand agreed. "That's one of the unique things about it. It's compelling, but the physical damage isn't anything you wouldn't have survived. The man that did this was an expert."

Tabitha eyed Armand sidelong. "Mebbe I'm talkin' outta turn, but I hear you're an expert, too..."

Armand chuckled. Feisty bitch, this Tabitha Adams! "True. Although I don't think I've ever applied so many techniques in the same scene. I think that what bothers me about this is that most, if not all, of my victims enter my clutches of their own free will -- and they suffer whatever indignities I dish out as the result of a clear choice. While you perhaps chose to resist this pimp, I don't think you saw this coming -- and I find it less than proper that he should send another to do something that he wouldn't do himself."

"Well, he's gonna get away with it... Guess I shoulda checked wit' YOU first, before tellin' him I was under your protection."

Armand got positively predatory. "You told him that?"

Tabitha gulped. This bastard was MEAN! "Yeh. Not by name, but I tol’ him I was covered, heavy."

"Then it's personal. You ARE under my protection, now. The fact that he felt free to ignore me leaves me no choice but to backdate said protection to the moment you uttered the statement. And THAT means that Mr. Pinkham and I are going to have what will be for him a very uncomfortable interview..." Lightning appeared to flash in Armand's dark eyes. "You'll owe me for this, one way or another, but I don't allow such challenges to slip past." He pondered a moment. "You realize that Rodday is gambling that you'll have been totally vanquished by his bullying and that you'll leave the hospital a vocal convert. He's also no doubt counting upon the fact that he has damaged your ability to earn income, making it necessary for you to crawl begging to him for support, which he will magnanimously supply. That's how I'd do it." Tabitha nodded. "There are possible psychological issues inherent in such abuse. Do you think you're going to be able to resume sexual activity when you're healed?"

Tabitha sucked her teeth, thinking. "Yeh, I think so. I'm gonna be a lot more cautious 'bout customers, though."

"From the transcripts of your interview today with my operative, the attacker gave you no hint as to his intentions, though, did he? Is it fair to say that you're going to be spooked?"

Shit, this fucker was smart! "Yeh, mebbe."

"That's an issue." Armand paused. "You will stay here the rest of the week, and heal. I'll have my staff gynecologist follow your case. You'll see him tomorrow morning at the latest."

"Cain't. No money fer this place."

"You'll do as I say, because I'm paying for it. Both you and your son are employees of Wilson Enterprises, effective yesterday -- with full health benefits. In your case, what I'm going to do with you is open to question -- but you're a valuable property, in your way. In yours," he turned to regard Nate, "you're to start working on a distribution crew, part time. My man Jason will contact you with particulars. This has nothing to do with your mother -- I'm offering you an honest method of supporting the financial aspects of your relationship with my daughter. Understood?"

"Yessir."

"Excellent. I want you to put on some weight," he told Tabitha. "Your recreational drug use hasn't improved your ability to earn a living at your chosen profession, but it hasn't killed you either. That tells me you're iron-willed, and not a true addict. I want you to leave the hospital in visibly better shape than you were in on, say, Saturday night; it will help undermine Pinkham. In the meantime, I will take whatever other actions I deem necessary to render Rodday ineffectual, depending upon what his alliances and support structure looks like. I'm disinclined to go looking for this professional, at this point in time -- he was following instructions, even if he enjoyed them. I'm sure you understand."

"Well, I'd like to kick him in the balls, but I'm alive."

"At some point, maybe we'll turn the tables on him -- but not now. He's good; therefore, he'll be wary, especially once he discovers that his employer has crossed someone and is paying for it. It'll be easier to find him when he's lowered his guard." He nodded at Tabitha's bandaged breasts. "What he did to you was visually spectacular, and very painful, but in BDSM they call breasts 'fun bags', because they take a lot of punishment and provide a lot of pain without permanent damage. At some point, perhaps we'll look into plastic surgery for the scars..." He returned his attention to Nate. "You'll bring Nora home?"

"Yessir."

"Good. I'll make my departure, then. Get well, Tabitha. Maybe when you get out I'll put YOU in charge of prostitution in this town..." Armand swept out.

Tabitha's eyes swept to Nora. "Your old man's a fuckin' trip!"

Nora shook her head. "He certainly is. I didn't have any real idea until last week. He's always been a force of nature at my house, even though I'd never dealt with him directly. I don't think this guy Rodday is going to be very happy when he looks back on this..."

Tabitha grunted. She wasn't placing any bets, either way. "C'mere, girl." Nora did so. "Turn around." Nora did this, too, but favored Nate with a frown. "Big ass on her."

"I LIKE ass!" Nate grated.

Tabitha turned her attention back to Nora. "What the fuck you want wit' my boy? He ain't no Ken doll... Wit' your old man you can get jus' 'bout anything, I figger..."

Nora stood there a moment, fuming, then regarded Nate's mother levelly. "I saw potential in him. Daddy sees potential in YOU! I think that probably makes me right..." She paused. "Daddy didn't actively enter my sex life until I had one -- and that's been with Nate. And, basically, aside from doing what a lot of daddies do -- telling him he'd better do right by me, or else -- he's stayed out of things."

"Why Nate? What would a rich bitch like you want a bruthuh fo'? 'Cept maybe as a toy..."

Nora got visibly angry. "I'm not a rich bitch! Or, at least, I didn't THINK I was. Prior to Nate, I got NO attention from boys -- except maybe ridicule for my ass! Okay, I had a fantasy -- but we got past that on our first date! Nate and I... click. A lot of people seem to have this thing about our skin color, one way or another. Fuck 'em! Nate's MINE!" She blushed. "And I'm his..."

Tabitha shifted her regard to her son. "You paddled that ass yet?"

"Huh? No! Well, a little, in play." Nate looked furtive.

"Better think 'bout doin' it serious. You gonna be pussy-whipped; you got no shot at all. Better have a fall-back plan fer holdin' SOME territory!" Tabitha grinned, turning back to Nora. "Okay, you'll do -- not that I can do a fuckin' thing 'bout it anyway. 'Sides, boy's settlin' down, visibly. Probly good pussy..."

Nora regarded the black woman archly. "Well, I'm not complaining, either."

Nate circled behind Nora and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back to lean against him. Now that the possibility of a catfight seemed to have disappeared, he could afford to side with one of them. Apropos of nothing, he changed the subject, "I couldn't find anything for your, uh, piercings, Mama."

"Piercings?" Nora blinked.

Tabitha picked up a photograph and pointed at her skewered nipples. "Them. I still got the needles in 'em. I figger I might as well keep the fuckin' holes..."

"Oh. Okay, I'll help. I know a couple of places in the mall. Gold is best. How big?"

Tabitha thought about it while concealing her approval of the way the girl took the task on as her own. "Lemme see yer pinky." Nora displayed her hand, close up. "Yeh, 'bout that thick. Mebbe a li'l bigger, full up." Girl had narrow fingers. Wasn't big anywhere, 'cept the ass... Nice round tits... Tabitha chuckled to herself; them things probly had Nate's fingerprints all over 'em!

Meanwhile, Nora collected the photograph. "I think I can scale from this -- although I probably can't be taking this out at the mall to look at..."

"Wanna see 'em? Don' worry, the boy has." Tabitha looked mildly embarrassed. "Too many times."

"I've seen enough," Nora replied. "Maybe when we fit them. What do you want? Studs? Rings?"

"Studs, to start." Tabitha eyed the girl, putting forth another test. "You can mount them."

"Okay." Test passed. Nora didn't even flinch.

" 'Tween the size o' them needles, an' the fact they was hauled on fer a while, the fuckin' holes are probly pretty fuckin' big."

Nora nodded, still examining the photo. "Think they tore at all?"

"Nah. There was plenty there. They was just hauled on enough to keep it hurtin'."

Nate watched and listened to the dispassionate discussion in some wonder. You'd think they were talking about shopping for chicken breasts, or something! Nate's nipples hurt to look at the pictures, and he didn't HAVE any, to speak of. And his pecker had shrunk up to a little tiny thing...

Stick Williams wandered through the door at that point, "Hey."

"Stick." Tabitha acknowledged Nate's friend.

"Thought I'd come by. How you doin'?"

"I'll live. Nice a' ya."

Nate eyed his friend. "How'd you get here?"

"Mary brought me. She don't know your Mama, so she didn't want to come up and stick her nose in shit."

Nate frowned. The initial question hadn't been important, but something about the answer was fucked up... "Mary don't own no car, does she?"

Stick caught out, backpedaled. "Okay, Ted brought me. He's downstairs with Mary."

"Huh! Man, I can't figure out why you're fooling around with that little fuck! Mary's understandable, I guess -- different strokes -- but Teddy? What're you doin', fuckin' him?"

Stick's face closed down. Nora looked away. And a light came on in Nate's head.

Stick was well and truly fucked. It seemed like there was only one possible way to stave off the inevitable. "I don't hafta take that kinda shit, Nate. Get better, Miz Adams. I'm outta here..." Stick turned and strode out.

Nate stood there, soaking up the shock. Stick was queer? What the fuck? And another thing... "You KNEW!" he accused Nora.

"Well, I know a helluva lot more that you THINK you know!" Nora replied hotly. "Mary swore me to secrecy! It's... a lot more complex than it looks..."

"Boy!" Tabitha yelled. "Settle the fuck down!"

"I find out my best friend's queer and my girlfriend knows it, and I'm supposed to settle down?" Nate ranted. "Jeezus shit!"

"You don' fuckin' know it all, Boy! If he's your frien' you'll lissen ta how it is!"

"Awright." He turned on Nora, fuming, "Well?"

Nora shrugged. "Things are a lot closer to the way they've been telling it than you're probably guessing," Nora apologized. "But Mary swore me to secrecy because Stick and Teddy stand to take just the kind of shit you're dishing out! Fact is, they've got a three-way thing going -- but it's REALLY three-way, rather than Mary doing it all..."

"So who's fuckin' who?" Nate sneered.

"Well, Stick is fucking Mary, and Teddy is fucking Mary..."

"Anybody fuckin' Stick?" Nate cut to the chase.

"I don't think so. Stick just isn't that particular who is sucking him off, as long as they're good at it..."

"Well, that's a LITTLE better," Nate allowed. "Stick fuckin' Teddy?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"Stick suckin' cocks?"

"I don't know," Nora hedged, "Maybe."

"Jeezus Christ..."

"Oh, shut up, Boy!" Tabitha ranted. "If you was in the joint, you'd be somebody's fuckin' bitch inside a week! Eatin' pussy ain't made me a lezzie, an' suckin' an occasional cock don' make Stick queer! Ever hear o' 'bisexual'?"

"Well, yeh."

"So? How much pussy was Stick gettin' before this Mary?"

"Same's me -- zip."

"An' you wouldn'ta accepted a blowjob from queer-bait?"

Nate looked EXTREMELY uncomfortable. "I mighta..."

The black woman eyed Nora. "What's this kid look like?"

Nora shrugged. "Small. Kind of girlish, actually. Wavy brown hair. He was getting typecast."

"So. You ain't gettin' shit. Girly-boy blows you -- an' it's good. Girly-boy ups some ass -- an' it's good. Everythin's quiet -- ain't public, you ain't swappin' spit or anythin' -- he's jus' handlin' your needs. You gonna do ABSOLUTELY nuthin' in return? How long's THAT gonna last?"

"That's all well and good," Nate complained, "but what about Mary? Stick didn't hafta do that shit -- he had a bitch!"

"Well, it didn't start out that way," Nora interjected. "Mary blackmailed them both into having sex with her..."

"What?"

Nora sighed. "Mary says it all started at the Prom. There was a glory hole in the Men's Room..." Tabitha chuckled. "and Stick was a little drunk. Teddy blew him, but I guess the whole thing was kind of anonymous..."

"You don' see who's on the other side of a glory hole, generally," Tabitha supplied. "It's just a hole in the wall you stick your dick through. You drop a load, the cocksucker gets it -- everybody's happy, an' there's no messy talk an' shit."

"Apparently, Teddy was really good," Nora continued. He got out of the Men's Room without Stick figuring out who he was, but he was standing there with Mary when Stick came out and pumped her for info on who had come by recently. Mary put two and two together and got six..." She glanced at Nate. "She had Teddy by the balls at that point, but he's a big chicken about going to her house. You picking me up made Stick appetizing, and having Stick along would allay Teddy's fears enough for Mary to get at least one, and maybe two, dicks... You see how close this is to what you've been told?"

"Thus far," Nate grumped.

Nora sighed. "When they got to Mary's place, Mary got Teddy stone drunk and started playing bisexual fuck flicks. She outed Teddy to Stick, but only after she let Stick know that she had a gun to HIS head, too -- basically, that if Teddy got outed, he would, too. Then she made them a deal: they could try man-sex at her place, in perfect privacy -- but they had to both fuck her, too."

"I don't get it," Nate complained. "Is Fat Mary that big a slut?"

Nora shrugged. "Well, there is no question that she likes sex, but you put your finger on the problem: Mary is FAT -- there isn't a line of boys waiting to date her. In fact, blatant advertising made her only a little more successful than ME." She shrugged. "Mary wanted a boyfriend; if she could get either one of them to come to the well a few times without feeling serious pressure over it, chances were that she'd at least get SOMETHING."

"Okay, so, there was a cock sucking tournament? Teddy IS queer, right?"

Nora shook her head. "Teddy THOUGHT he was queer -- and he was being type cast. Mary says he's a pretty good fuck, actually. So is Stick -- but totally different. But Teddy likes guys, too."

"An' Stick?"

"Stick has his choice of five holes, apparently. Would YOU screw that up, if they all worked well?"

"Jeez, I dunno!"

"Mary figures Stick could walk away -- he would MUCH rather receive than to give. Apparently, she browbeat him into blowing Teddy because turnabouts IS fair play... Nobody expects Stick to EVER be on bottom, though. Teddy, well, he's getting a lot of attention on both sides, and he likes it that way."

Tabitha chuckled, "So I'm guessin' you don' ever have ta worry 'bout Stick snugglin' up to ya in the middle of the night an' offering ta take the edge off... Basically, you keep your nose outta their business, an' things ain't changed."

"Well, mebbe. Still, Stick knows his shit's in the wind..."

"An' he DON'T know you ain't gonna shit on him!" his mother interjected. "You ain't are ya?"

Nate sighed heavily. "Nah. I guess not."

"Then you better get to him 'fore he gets too bent outta shape..."

Nate stood there wondering how he was going to accomplish that when Nora came to the rescue: "He's with Mary, right?" She whipped out her cell phone...

Stick was a wreck. He was sitting in Teddy's car in the parking lot with Teddy and Mary, freaking out. "Nate made the whole thing! It was fucking awful! He goes, like, 'What're you doin', fuckin' him?' An' I fuckin' froze up!" He stopped dead, remembering, then, "Hey! How the fuck does NORA know?" He turned an accusing glance on Mary.

"Well, she didn't talk," Mary blustered.

"Who the fuck ELSE knows?" Stick demanded.

"Besides Nate?" Mary's phone rang, allowing her to back out of THAT one. "Hullo?"

"Mary, are you with Stick?" Nora asked.

"Yeah."

"How is he?"

"Bad."

"Give him the phone."

Mary did so, and Nora handed hers to Nate, giving him that look that women have used to enforce good behavior in their significant others since sometime before the dawn of recorded history. Nate took the thing gingerly, "Stick?"

"Yeh."

"Awright, it's cool, Man. Nora explained shit to me."

"What did she tell ya?"

"Uh, can we do this, like, face to face?"

"Yeh. I'm in the parkin' lot."

"Bring 'em up, then."

"What about your Mama?"

"She knows. She slapped me upside the head a coupla times." Nate flicked his eyes at his mother.

Tabitha chuckled and interjected, "I wanna see this Mary."

Nate nodded. "Mama wants to see Mary."

"Teddy, too," Tabitha added.

"Teddy, too."

"Awright." He hung up. "Nate wants ta see us. All of us."

Teddy looked fearful. "What does he know?"

"I dunno," Stick replied. "Whatever it was, Nora told him." Again the eyes swiveled to Mary -- this time, two pair.

"She's my best friend!" Mary wailed.

"An' what does she know?"

Mary hung her head. "Just about everything."

"Fuck. Le's go." Stick opened the door.

"What's Nate gonna do?" Teddy worried querulously.

"I guess we're gonna find out." Stick made sure the other two got moving.

It took a good ten minutes for an extremely diffident trio to make an appearance at the door of Tabitha's hospital room. "Git in here, you three!" she ordered.

The three of them sidled in. Tabitha got her first look at Mary Nally. Yep, she was fat, all right -- but then Stick was damned skinny. THAT piece kinda made sense... She shifted her attention to Teddy Frick. "C'mere, boy." The look on his face said that Teddy wouldn't be surprised if the bedridden black woman offered to beat the shit out of him. Tabitha chuckled. "High-strung, ain't ya? I cain't throw rocks, Boy. You know what I do fer a livin'?"

"Uh, no..." Teddy managed.

"I'm a fuckin' hooker, Boy. Now c'mere."

Teddy approached gingerly. Tabitha continued, "I'm hearin' you like to play both sides of the fence. That right?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Which you like better? Dick or pussy?"

"Uhhhhh..."

" 'Sokay, Boy. Either way."

"It's... not that. I... can't decide."

Tabitha pondered a moment. "You givin' up ass to Stick?"

Teddy looked around, trying to find something resembling support -- and he got it. Mary came off the wall, and Stick nodded gravely. "Yeah."

Tabitha eyed Stick. "Stick, you done Mary's ass?"

Stick flicked a glance at Mary. "Yeh."

"Which 'un's better?"

"They're... different."

Tabitha nodded. "Suckin' cock?"

"Uhhh... Teddy. Mary's learnin', though."

Tabitha decided it was time to stick in a ringer, "Stick givin' you ass, Boy?"

Teddy's blink said the concept was foreign to him. "No..."

"Stick suckin' cock?"

Teddy's eyes made the rounds, but Stick shrugged. "A couple of times. Mary's better, though."

Nate thought that this was fucking awful, but Mama seemed to think it was significant, from her expression... Tabitha again shifted the interrogation, this time to Mary. "Why ain't YOU picked one?"

Mary shrugged. "They're different."

"How?"

"Lots of ways. There's the obvious," Mary grinned suddenly, "which isn't."

"Meanin'?"

"Their, uh, members. Stick's is pretty much what you'd think it was, from looking at him. Teddy's is... a surprise."

"Baby, I know what a cock is. Anybody else in the dark?" Tabitha glanced around, grinning. "Spit it out."

"Okay." Mary blushed. "Stick's is long and thin. Teddy's is shorter, but..." She held up her hand in a 'C' shape to demonstrate Teddy's surprising circumference.

"Huh!" Tabitha glanced at Teddy, who was blushing furiously. "That IS different. I'm guessin' they scratch different spots?"

"Uh huh."

"That ain't it, though?"

"No. Teddy needs mothering, and I enjoy that -- usually. But sometimes I don't want to..."

Tabitha's eyes settled on Stick as she asked, "An' Stick don't take much motherin' does he? I imagine he runs things..."

"Uh huh."

"So, Stick, how is eatin' pussy?"

"Not bad." Stick grinned. "I like the results."

"And suckin' dick?"

She'd caught him short. He glanced apologetically at Teddy, and replied, "It ain't my favorite thing."

"So why d'ya do it?"

"Mary convinced me that jus' pokin' Ted's holes an' not givin' him any jollies wasn't right."

"Hand job?"

Stick rolled his eyes. "Dude's GOT hands. I got hands, too -- it ain't the same."

Tabitha turned her eyes on her son. "You gettin' this? Lemme recap. This ain't a couple 'a dudes sharin' a woman -- it's a three-way. It's fairly stable, 'cause each of 'em 's got needs, and the other two are handlin' 'em. Stick is top cock; he's got two bitches -- jus' one of 'em's a bit more female than the other." Teddy took the hit, blushing. "Lotsa times, gay sex is a thing where they talk 'bout 'tops' and 'bottoms'. Tops, usually, are inta runnin' shit an' gettin' their dicks wet -- damned few of 'em are gonna up any ass, 'cept maybe once in a blue moon outa a sense of fair play. Same thing with cocksuckin'." Nate was all ears. "So, we got a thing, here -- a peckin' order. Stick runs shit, mostly by lettin' things happen, but he pushes here an' there. Mary's in the middle. She's gettin' laid regular, an' it ain't the same ol' dick. She keeps Teddy mothered, but Stick gives her regular breaks where she can relax an' go with the flow. An' Teddy's a bottom. He's gettin' motherin' and sex from Mary, an' gettin' his submission in takin' loads from Stick, who's also takin' care of him 'round guys." She scanned the trio. "Did I miss anything?"

"No," Mary responded, "That's how I make it out."

"So, is Stick a cocksucker? Only with Teddy. Is it a problem fo' YOU?" she asked Nate rhetorically, "No."

"Okay, I got it," Nate grumbled. "Howcum SHE didn't tell me?" He glared at Nora.

"Girl talk don't extend to guys, usually, ya dumb fuck. You wanna hear 'bout the fit of her Kotex?" Tabitha chuckled. " 'Specially if she was sworn to secrecy an' she knew you'd shit a brick... What the fuck you want?"

"I just wanted to make an official complaint," Nate replied. He turned to Stick. "This shit is gonna get out, Man. I'm good with it, now, but it... reflects..."

"Not THAT much," Nora pointed out. "You're not hanging with the same bunch, now, either of you..."

Nate blinked. True enough. "Well, you gotta find a way to break it to Draper before he figgers it out himself, Man."

"Yeh," Stick agreed. "Might need help."

"Okay."

"Awright, Sex Ed is over for today. Ya'll get the fuck outta here, so I can get some sleep!" Tabitha groused -- but she grinned to remove the sting.