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Subject: {ASSM} The Innocent Fugitives Ch01 {Varkel} (MF MMF oral anal snuff)
Date: Thu,  8 Feb 2001 02:10:06 -0500
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The Innocent Fugitives
a Novel by Varkel
Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel



Chapter 1:  The Cusp



"No, Bud, please!  You know I don't like that taste."

Jenny struggled against the drunken man who straddled her chest on 
the bed, his large organ pushed into her face.

"Open those lips, bitch," he slurred, "or I'll fuck you in the 
ass."

She knew he would do it.  Though her legal husband, he had raped 
her there often despite all her protests and her cries of terror 
and pain.  Cringing, she opened her mouth and awaited the 
disgusting result.

"Ha-hee!" Bud yelped and squirted his first fruits into the back 
of her throat and upon her tongue.  He withdrew slightly and hosed 
her face with the remainder.  "God!" he exclaimed tightly.  "I 
love to fuck your face," adding when reduced to a dribble, "You've 
never looked prettier, darling."  With a smirk he rapped the 
instrument against her nose.

"Get off me, you drunk!"  With all the power she could muster 
Jenny was able to heave the tottering man from her body, perhaps 
because of his slight build.  He landed on the floor with a thump.  
She glared down at his wide-eyes.  "I'm getting fed up with you 
and your perversions."

"You whore!" he yelled in outrage, quickly regaining his feet.  
Though short and rather skinny, he still possessed a man's 
strength.  He grasped her painfully by modest breasts and threw 
her off the bed onto her back.

"You'd better learn more respect for your husband, bitch," he 
shouted and kicked at her as she scuttled across the floor to 
cower against the bedroom wall.

Sobbing convulsively, she squirmed aside to avoid his foot.  
Finally with a desperate grab she caught it in her two hands.  
With a twist she destroyed his balance so that he fell to the 
side.  His head banged against the nearby night stand.  A spurt of 
blood soiled both her and the carpet.  Her nurse's training 
impelled her to inspect his wound, but a second thought suggested 
he would kill her if he caught her now.  She scrambled to her feet 
and ran from the room, naked.

The screen door slammed behind her as she raced from the house to 
find shelter in the thick brush behind the garage.  She waited 
fearfully, but he did not come after her.  Soon she went deeper 
into the woods, despite the smell of skunk, and found a spot where 
she lay upon the ground and curled up to sleep for the rest of the 
summer night, one ear cocked for any penetration into the brush.


* * *


"I do believe you enjoyed that one, Beth."  Paul exhibited a 
satisfied grin as he raised off the woman and felt himself slip 
deliciously out of her tightness.  Only a moment before she had 
been wild, scratching and screaming out of control while her man 
rammed home in jubilation.

But now, despite her panting breath, she snarled and turned onto 
her side away from him.  "Don't feel too smug, Hank.  I could have 
done myself just as well with a kielbasa."

His name was Henry Paul Lanning, _Paul_ to everyone but his wife, 
who increasingly called him Hank, if only to see the spark of 
irritation in his eye.  Paul and Elizabeth did not have a happy 
marriage.  She was a piece of trailer trash, however pretty, who 
could never be fully satisfied in sex, whereas he was more 
refined, a man who wrote poetry and gazed longingly at sunsets.  
He had seduced her, so he thought, while she was employed as a 
waitress, and he had married her when she missed her third period.  
She had promptly aborted that infant and two others over the 
years.  Their relationship tenuously endured, however, because she 
needed his income but mainly because he could not imagine finding 
another woman who would so willingly offer mouth and anus as well 
as vagina.  This wonderful variety, each avenue with its own 
unique texture and pressures, had become essential to his 
pleasure.

"Why can't you admit you enjoyed it?" he asked in exasperation, as 
he had before.  "Why are you always so bitter?"

"You're just a pussy, Hank," she sneered, sitting up on the bed, 
her large breasts drooping a bit.  "You don't know how to please a 
real woman...  A prissy pussy.  I swear you must only have had 
guys before me."

"I certainly did not!" he insisted indignantly, refusing to admit 
for a moment even to himself the many times he had been tempted, 
especially since his marriage to Beth four years previously.  
Could a man perform better orally?  Was the male anus perhaps 
tighter?

Paul watched his wife rise from the bed and stretch her svelte, 
blond body as she stood upright.  He could never get enough of 
her, he thought not for the first time, but by now he knew himself 
incapable of giving her true satisfaction.

Beth looked down at her husband who sprawled upon the bed, manhood 
shriveled to a risible nub.  She shook her head in disgust.

"Hank, there are places on the internet that advertise cock 
enlargement.  You should check them out."

"Just go away, Beth," he groaned and turned onto his stomach.

"Oh, I'm going, Hank," she responded over her shoulder as she 
padded away to the bathroom.  "You just whet my appetite.  I've 
got a real man waiting for me this evening."


* * *


"Where'd that dick come from?" Beth demanded humorously when her 
eyes flew open at the touch on her lips.  Bud lay atop her on the 
couch, thrusting into her in that languorous manner of his that 
filled her with a warm glow capable of lasting for hours.  She had 
only to arch her back slightly, meeting his slow and lengthy 
strokes, for the veins and corrugations on the top of his slim but 
elongated penis to engage her clitoris in a feathery manner that 
was pure delight.  His light upper body was draped over hers, chin 
resting on her shoulder, head turned away though she had long 
ceased to protest its alcoholic odor.

The suddenly arriving penis of course belonged to Slim.  He was 
stooping on the carpet at their heads to lower it upon her lips.  
She had remarked often before on the big man's ghostly ability to 
enter the apartment without click of door or thump of feet, but on 
this occasion his approach had most likely been masked by Bud's 
heavy breathing and the couch springs creaking under the aligned 
buttocks.

At her question the little man raised his head, rotated it to face 
her, grinned and licked Slim's swollen carmine glans lying on her 
cheek.

Her eyes, glittering in the dim room behind drawn drapes, rose to 
meet those of the massive figure leaning over the couch.  "Slim, 
you know I love to suck, but just now I'd rather have it up my 
ass."

"Your ass is covered up," was the gruff response.

"That's easy to fix," she retorted.  "Get up, Bud."

Wheezing to catch his breath, the little man pointed out, "You 
love to suck _fat_ meat, Beth, and Slim's is the fattest."

"Yeah, but now I want that fat meat where it feels even better."

"Aw, let's suck it together," Bud wheedled.  His mouth closed over 
half the glans.

Slim cooperated by withdrawing slightly until the other half 
pressed the woman's lips.  Her eyes glinted up to his.  
Obstinately her lips formed a hard-pressed line.  He sneered at 
her and his big hand closed on the uncovered breast, kneading it 
powerfully.  Her eyes widened and she protested with a nasal moan.

"You think that hurts?" he asked conversationally.  His thumb and 
forefinger tightened on the nipple.

Bud had captured the entire head, raising it off the woman's lips.  
She was able to respond tartly, "You know it does."

He twisted his fingers.  "How about this?"

"God damn it, Slim --" she began, then conceded with a grimace, 
"Okay, okay!  But Bud has beat me to it."

"This time I mean to wash _your_ tonsils," he declared, removing 
himself with a forceful plop from the little man.

Her eyes glittered.  "You son of a bitch, why does it always have 
to be your way?"

"Huh!  Look who's talking!  Will you threaten me with the 
newspapers again?"

"If that's what it takes," she responded, eyes narrowing.

He sniffed.  "I meant to ask you, hot little Beth, have you really 
thought what it would mean to you if you break us up?  I got us 
together last year for just one reason.  You're a bottomless cunt 
who'll take all the dicks you can get anywhere they'll fit and 
maybe a few places they won't.  Bud, here, is the same way, plus 
he's fixed nearly as well as me for both giving and getting.  You 
say we don't do you enough.  I find it hard to believe you've 
found two others that'll do you half as much."

"Do you?  A little advertising would fix that problem, I bet."

"Fix me and Bud, you mean!"

She sniffed.  "Bring on some of your friends, Slim.  Then I won't 
have to talk to the newspapers."

Bud ordered, "Shut up about the newspapers, Beth!  You gonna suck 
or not?"

With a sigh she parted her lips around the impatient glans.

"Turn your head more this way."  When she had complied, admitting 
him further, Slim added, "Now suck it.  Squeeze my balls...  Yeah, 
that's it!  I'll be quick: I've been tied up on that commission 
all week, long enough for the 60 year-old maid to look sexy! ...  
_Then_ I'll put it up your ass, if that's what you gotta have."

He leaned far enough to grasp the little man's head and turn the 
face away.  "What happened to the back of your head, Bud?"

"Fell down last night and cut it somewhere.  It's okay."

Leaning more along the couch, the big man inserted his free hand 
between the two sweating bodies, clamping Bud's plunging organ in 
the web between thumb and forefinger, curling the middle finger 
under to slip it in tandem into the sopping vagina.  The woman 
grunted nasally, shivering when he added still another finger.

"Nothing feels like a dick operating in a cunt," Slim noted 
conversationally.

"So you've said," Bud agreed, not very enthusiastically.

"Ruins the joy for you, does it?  If I wasn't about to come I'd 
stick one of those dildos up your ass.  I know you'd like that!"

His hand withdrew and his attention returned to the woman's 
effort.  She had released his testicles to pump the base of the 
shaft that filled her mouth.  When he stiffened, her hand 
compressed his pubic pad, holding him back against his instinct to 
deliver his semen as deeply within her as possible.  She ceased to 
suck while the cool fluid filled her mouth -- too full.  She 
coughed through her nose but pushed him away only when the organ 
ceased to pulse.

Her throat worked as she swallowed.  "Damn, you were full of it!" 
she complained, swallowing again.  "It nearly choked me!"

"I've been saving it for you."  He grinned.  "Did it make your 
tonsils sticky?"

She stuck out her tongue.  "You bastard!"

He chuckled.  "Hold that pose, I'll get you a coke."

He whirled away to the kitchen and returned with one hand behind 
his back, the other bearing an opened bottle.  He found Beth 
moaning, head thrown back in a circle of her own blonde hair, eyes 
clenched, mouth a grimace of tension.  Bud was thrusting faster, 
face down over her shoulder.

At the head end of the couch Slim wedged the thing in his left 
hand, a wooden rod wide as his palm, into the crevice between 
padded arm and couch back.  A bare wire terminating in another rod 
trailed from it to the floor.  Then he touched the cold bottle to 
Beth's cheek.

"Hold on!" he insisted.  "You'll like it better, Beth, with a dick 
up your ass, too."

She twitched her face away from the bottle.  "Damn it, I'm about 
to come!"

"I want to feel that from the inside," he told her.  "Here, have a 
drink and let me get under you.  Raise up, Bud."

The little man obeyed, withdrawing from her and sitting up on his 
heels with manhood, long but skinny and very wet, outthrust.

Slim waited while the woman swilled the coke thirstily.  "Okay, 
Beth, get up in his lap."

Her free hand had been working in her crotch.  She glared at Slim.  
"Damn you, I told you I was _coming_!"

"You'll come in no time with both of us in you.  Bud's ready, 
too."

She cut her eyes to his midsection.  "You think you can get that 
in me?"

"A couple of wanks and it'll be hard as ever."

"It better be!  If you guys give out on me again ...  For your 
information, I'm supposed to meet Melanie tomorrow for lunch.  
That's Melanie from the Bulletin."

"What will you tell her?"

"That depends on you.  If you finish what you've started, I'll 
tell her how to plant roses.  Otherwise ..."

He gestured, "Well, get up there, Madam Botanist, and I'll plant 
something in _your_ rose!"

She let the empty bottle thump on the carpet, took a deep breath, 
rolled up onto her knees and advanced on the waiting little man.  
Squatting astraddle his hips, she settled upon his stiff member 
and wrapped her arms around his neck.  He leaned back on extended 
hands, allowing her to bend over him.  Immediately she began to 
rock her hips.

First taking up a jar of cold cream from the end table, the big 
man clambered onto the couch behind Beth, waddling forward to 
straddle Bud's knees also.  He applied the cream liberally to his 
softened organ, then rubbed it between her buttocks while pumping 
it with his fist.

Soon his arm enclosed her sweating belly.  "Hold still a moment," 
he advised and readily entered her hot orifice.

The woman shuddered.  "Easy to see why they call it 'cold cream.'"

"So you say every time."  He chuckled.  "Why don't you ever say 
that, Bud?"

The little man grunted.  "Why don't _you_?"  He resumed his 
thrusting.

Shortly they settled into syncopation, the woman's hips rolling to 
present the opportunity of maximum penetration first to one man, 
then the other.  "Oh, yes!" she murmured enthusiastically.  "I've 
been meaning to ask, is this what the army means by 'double 
time?'"

"Nah," replied Bud.  "They mean sticking it into the guy in front 
without letting the one behind fall out."

She asked sweetly, "Were you in the Turkish army, Bud?"

The big man said whimsically, "Too bad we don't have cunts, too, 
eh, Beth?"

"Too bad for you," she replied, "but not for me.  Oh, god, oh, 
god, I'm so _full_!"

Bud clenched his eyes shut.  Having waited for that, the big man 
slipped a hand behind himself to the rod tucked into the crevice.  
He lifted it free and brought it forward to his side, dragging the 
other rod over the couch arm by the attached wire.

He waited, thrusting rapidly into the woman's entrails, listening 
as her groans became inarticulate.  Bud had begun to grunt in his 
own signal of approaching orgasm.

When her body went rigid, Slim released her belly.  He caught the 
other rod and manipulated them until the wire crossed itself and 
formed a loop held erect before his face.  He waited, still 
thrusting, until Bud uttered his first, "Fuck-shit!" -- also 
characteristic.  At that moment the big man whipped the loop of 
wire over the woman's head and yanked the two handles -- for that 
was the function of the rods -- apart with all his strength.

This was 20-gauge piano wire, thick enough not to cut the skin, 
strong enough easily to withstand the 250 pounds of jerking force 
a powerful man might apply.  The muscles, cartilage formations and 
bones in the woman's throat collapsed under the terrible pressure.  
Two of the neck vertebrae separated, tearing the spinal column and 
stopping her heart on the beat currently in progress.

Eyes popping, unable ever to breathe again, Beth had only two or 
three seconds to appreciate the enormity of her damage, not nearly 
enough.  All her sphincters spasmed involuntarily as she died, an 
expected phenomenon that Slim failed to notice because of his 
adrenaline-charged concentration.  But Bud certainly felt it.  His 
orgasmic smile widened.

Slim released the wire, slipped it off the woman and elbowed her 
body aside to pop it immediately over Bud's head.  Again he jerked 
the loop closed with savage force.  But the wire garrote is less 
effective when applied from the front.  Bud's eyes flew open along 
with his mouth.  "Wha--" he was able to wheeze.

Slim leaned to one side, pulling the wire with one hand while 
pushing with the other.  Bud's hands came up to his throat but 
were useless against the wire.  He tried to relieve the pressure 
by tugging on Slim's hands.  Finally, eyes nearly popping from his 
head, he struck at Slim's face with his fists.  The big man turned 
his head away, taking the blows on skull and, painfully, one ear 
lobe.  Shortly they weakened and ceased.

Slim held the pressure on Bud's neck for a full minute before 
tentatively relaxing the wire.  Breathing hard, he rose up off the 
couch and stood over the bodies.

"You were right, Beth," he murmured sardonically.  "Melanie will 
publish a story about you, all right, just a little different from 
anything you expected."



NEXT:  Chapter 2: The Mystery
Varangian:  ludmax11@hotmail.com
Kellis:     kellis@dhp.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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