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Subject: {ASSM} The Innocent Fugitives Ch07 {Varkel} (MF Mg MFM oral anal rape snuff caution)
Date: Mon, 12 Feb 2001 06:10:06 -0500
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The Innocent Fugitives
a Novel by Varkel
Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel
Chapter 7: Unforeseen Swap
That evening -- or was it already morning? -- Paul awoke to find
himself alone in bed. The bathroom light was on, and from the
partially open door a shaft of it illuminated the chest and lower
body of Bobbie, who lay naked on the other bed. Paul got up and
peeked into the bathroom. It was vacant. He knew where Jenny had
gone, knew it for a certainty. She had gone to experience that
monster cock, despite the prick to which it was attached.
"Well let her," he said voicelessly to himself, disappointed in
the woman but not angry at her. "I've taught her to enjoy sex,
and this is the consequence."
"Paul," Bobbie whispered as he was about to return to his bed.
"Paul, please lie beside me. I'm lonely."
He paused and then realized that he too needed some cuddling.
"OK, sweetheart, but just for a little while," he said and lay
down next to the girl.
Bobbie immediately snuggled to him, sought out his lips with hers
and ran eager fingers through his chest hair. He embraced her
with both arms, relishing the warm, soft feel of her body half
atop him.
"I promised not to ask again," Bobbie said in a hurried whisper,
"but, you know, it's all right with me."
Paul was sorely tempted; she was a willing, experienced girl.
"Let's just touch each other, baby, and kiss," he managed to reply
with a quaver.
"Will you take off your underpants?" Bobbie chirped gleefully and
rolled onto her back.
"Yes, of course, darling."
His cock was rigid, and he intended to masturbate while holding
the lovely child to him. Nothing more than that, he promised
himself. He struggled out of his underpants and lay on his back.
The shaft of light fell across his erect cock which jutted from
his belly at a 45 degree angle.
"You're just the right size for me, Paul," the young girl said,
not realizing how her words wounded the man, who would have given
his soul to possess an organ with Todd's dimensions.
Bobbie laid her head on Paul's chest and reached down to take his
slender member into her hand. She then squirmed her head down his
body until her face reached its objective. Her tongue flicked the
head of it. He tried weakly, unconvincingly, to pull her away.
"We're just touching and kissing, Paul," she protested in a sweet
voice and then popped the glans into her mouth.
"Bobbie! Please don't," he exclaimed and pulled her a bit roughly
up into his arms, her face to his.
She swung her left leg over the man, straddled him and sat
upright. Even before he realized her intent, she contrived in a
single motion for him to impale her lithe body. Her face and
rounded torso were fully illuminated by the shaft of light coming
from the bathroom. Her eyes were closed. Her upper teeth
clenched her lower lip. Fingers on her right hand diddled her
clit as she pinched a swollen nipple with the others. Paul gasped
with pleasure and the beauteous sight of the naked girl atop him.
He was being raped, he knew, but he did not protest. Indeed he
began to fondle the child's lovely thighs as she moved on him.
Her eyes suddenly popped open wide. Her mouth was a rictus. "Oh,
Paul," she cried after seeming to hold her breath for some
seconds. Her body trembled in orgasm.
Paul pulled her down to him, resting her head on his chest, his
chin grazing her flaxen hair. He began to thrust into her with
primeval excitement, and her keening signaled the approach of a
big one. They cried aloud together as the monstrous ecstasy
struck them both at once.
Bobbie lay atop him, breathing heavily. Paul lifted her forward
until her face was above his. A moist messiness oozed from her
onto his belly. They kissed.
"We shouldn't have done that, Bobbie," he said in a tone that did
not even convince himself.
Her tone matched his. "I know Paul. I'm sorry. I won't do it
again, I promise."
Then she giggled.
* * *
"I heard water falling."
It was Jenny's voice and her padding feet behind him where he
leaned against the rail on the back stoop of the cabin. The woods
were silent and the sky was just bright enough to announce the
forthcoming dawn. She came and leaned against him, an arm around
his shoulders, soft breast and hip pressing against him.
He admitted, "I just took a leak."
"Paul, you didn't!"
"Nobody was looking. And a good-morning to you, too!"
"Oh, Paul! It'll stink."
"One time won't. Anyway, that's not what I smell."
She sniffed. "What do you smell?"
"Jism."
"Wh-what?"
In fact he was not certain of it. He could not remember smelling
his own in such circumstances before, unless his nose was much
closer to the source, though he had often thought he detected
other men's remains in Beth. Might another's morning-after
residue be distinctive? He craned his neck to regard the woman,
who was staring up at him wide-eyed. Suddenly she lowered her
head and looked away.
Conversationally he asked, "Well, did it hurt you, too?"
She said, still looking away, "I took a shower when I got home
last night."
"And I didn't wake up?"
"Bobbie was sleeping on top of you. Talk about an odor!"
"Oh, ah, Jenny, I ..."
"You what?"
He sighed. "It's stupid to say she raped me, but that's how it
felt nevertheless. She sort of ... works me up, and then ..."
"Yes, I've noticed," observed the woman dryly. "Paul, if we
aren't careful, she'll end up pregnant."
"She has yet to have a period."
"That's true, and if you time it right she may be nine months late
with her first one."
He gulped, then pointed out, "You take the pill, don't you? Do
you have some extra ones?"
"No. Even if I did, she's too young."
"Well, you know she's going to screw. She loves it the way most
kids love cotton candy."
The woman hugged him tighter. "She's not the only one."
"Yeah, here lately. So it didn't hurt, huh?"
He felt her shiver against him. "Can't you say?"
Her voice was withdrawn. "What do you want me to say?"
"What did it feel like?"
She hesitated. Taking a deep breath, she admitted, "It was
bigger, but I can't really say it hurt me."
"Did it all go in?"
"I ... think so."
"You don't know?"
"Do you really want to hear what we did, Paul?"
"Yes, I do."
Her hand slipped under the towel he had wrapped around his hips.
She murmured, "Yes, you do, don't you! Sandra and I did a -- I
guess you call it a 69 -- while he ... fucked me. I could tell he
was bigger and hit my cervix even with my legs down, but mostly
what I felt was her tongue."
"Drove you wild, did it?"
"While it was happening. Sandra has such a wicked tongue!"
"So now you're addicted, is that it? I'm surprised you came
home."
"Addicted? To fucking, but that's _your_ fault! You're still my
man, Paul. And thank you. This _is_ my home! Wherever you are
is home."
Finally his arm encircled her back. The hand in his towel
caressed him gently, fingertips lifting his testicles. She
chuckled. "I saw something you won't believe."
"Tell me."
"Sandra can swallow all nine and a half inches."
"Bullshit! She can?"
"I saw her do it, even to the point of mashing her nose against
his pubis."
"Jesus Christ! Didn't it choke her?"
"No. I think she's used to it."
"But where does it _go_?"
"Into her throat. Where else could it go? But I don't know; I
didn't try that... She's proud of it. I gather it took some
practice. Paul ..."
"What?"
"I'll try to ... I'll try to learn it for you, if you'll let me."
"Why would you do that, Jenny?"
She sneered, "Todd is a self-centered boor who thinks any woman
should open herself merely at the thought of his oversized organ.
But you ..." Her voice softened tenderly. "I think it would make
you love me."
"I already love you, Jenny."
"Do you mean I should forget it?"
"Huh? No, no, I didn't mean that!"
She chuckled deep in her throat, leaned in front of him and kissed
his nose. "I'll start practicing as soon as we get back from
Youngstown."
"I will, too!" piped a voice behind them. "That sounds like fun."
* * *
They were ready for the trip to eastern Ohio. Todd had helped
Paul attach the battered trailer and the two of them had secured
the bikes inside. Todd swaggered that morning, although he said
little. He had dicked both of Paul's girls and he felt as smug as
a cop.
Sandra was in a foul mood and spoke sharply to everyone except
Bobbie. Paul and Jenny exchanged uncomfortable looks as they
settled in the front seat and prepared to begin a journey that
promised to be awkward at best.
"I don't want to be next to him," Bobbie protested vehemently when
Todd positioned himself beside her in the back seat of the car.
"I'll sit next to you, honey," Sandra told the girl, pulling her
husband roughly from the car and getting in herself. Todd
squeezed next to his wife and shut the rear door.
The motorcycles were in the trailer. There was nothing left to do
but leave.
"It'll just be for a few hours," Jenny leaned over and whispered
to Paul who sat behind the steering wheel.
They set off and not a further word was spoken in the car for the
next hour and one half, until they reached Toledo, when a dispute
arose between Sandra and Paul about which direction they should go
on I475.
"Drive straight ahead," the woman demanded. "We don't want to go
to Detroit."
"I know what I'm doing," Paul barked. "We'll connect with another
freeway going this way, and it will take us to the turnpike."
Sandra grumbled but said nothing further. When they reached the
toll gate of the turnpike the tension in the car was oppressive.
Sandra then began to play with Bobbie, who did not mind the kisses
and probing fingers. But she protested, when the woman sought to
pull down her jeans.
"Please don't, Sandra. The truck drivers will see me."
"Oh, yes, and that sight will make their day," she replied and
continued to pull on the girl's jeans.
"Stop! I don't want this," Bobbie whined and began to sob.
"Leave her alone!" Jenny shouted, turning in her seat to face the
other woman.
"This doesn't concern you," Sandra sneered and resumed her efforts
which the girl, now crying openly, resisted.
In a reckless, dangerous maneuver Paul suddenly veered from the
outside third lane of the turnpike to the inner one heedless of
the loud blasts of truckers' horns. At seventy miles per hour the
Taurus turned onto the off ramp that lead to an enormous plaza
that looked almost like a shopping mall. He braked the car
sharply, throwing all its occupants forward. The tires squealed
and the car came to a stop not far from the parking area.
"Get out!" Paul yelled as he squirmed around in his seat. "Take
your cycles and leave us alone!"
Bobbie opened the rear door and grasping the satchel that had
ridden between her feet, scurried from the vehicle, zipping up her
jeans and straightening her clothes furiously.
"We can't do that, Paul," Sandra said with an evil voice. "That
would put us too much at risk."
The woman retrieved a gun from somewhere in her clothing. It was
not large, but death peered from its muzzle. She flicked off the
safety. "Get out of the car, both of you," she demanded
arrogantly, knowing her authority at the moment.
For just a moment Paul thought to protest, but Jenny pulled on him
desperately and they both got out of the vehicle to stand next to
Bobbie. Todd and Sandra scurried around to the front seats, Todd
behind the wheel. Without another word they drove off, reaching
highway speed before entering the on-ramp.
"Shit!" Jenny exclaimed in utter disgust.
They were very conscious of their new status as pedestrians.
Large semis and passenger vehicles of all sorts strewed the
parking area. Traffic roared behind them on the turnpike.
"I've got your suitcase," Bobbie chirped, wanting a hug, a kiss,
anything affectionate.
"Oh, you darling girl!" Jenny exclaimed and pulled the girl to her
in an embrace. Their money was in the valise.
"What now?" Paul asked in utter dejection.
"Let's get something to eat," Jenny suggested and grasped the
hands of her two companions urging them forward.
* * *
They gathered at a table with their trays of food.
"We can walk out of here, Paul," Jenny suggested, trying to
reassure her mate between bites of hamburger. "There's a road
away from here that must lead to a town.
Paul poked at his eggs in obvious disgust at their situation,
something seemingly beyond his control.
"I don't mind walking," Bobbie said in a clear young voice.
Paul looked at the girl and raised a hand to fondle her flaxen
head, to which Bobbie leaned in utter submission.
"We'll find a way," he finally said with a certain determination,
gazing at her young beauty, perhaps in love.
* * *
Jenny and Paul lingered over coffee refills. Bobbie had begged
for quarters and scurried off to play video games in a nearby
arcade.
"You've really fallen for the girl, haven't you?" Jenny declared
softly, looking up at her man with a worried expression.
"I love you, Jenny, more than anyone," he replied, hunching over
the table, "but I have come to feel like a father to Bobbie, even
though I'm an incestuous pervert of one."
"It's not your fault," Jenny said sweetly and placed a hand over
his affectionately. "She's a peculiar girl, and it would perhaps
be best if you give her what she needs. Otherwise she might go
wild with boys and become pregnant before she's thirteen."
"Do you really think so, Jenny?"
"Yes I do, and I know it's what you want, too."
"I'm not a pervert!"
"She's extremely sexy, Paul, despite her age. I suppose it's
because of her experience and the manner in which she accepts sex
as a purely natural function."
"You'll have her too, won't you?"
"Yes, Paul, but fortunately _I_ can't get her pregnant!"
They suddenly looked up at the sound of Bobbie's childish voice.
The girl came toward them through the jungle of tables pulling a
teenage boy by the hand.
"This is Jason," she announced brightly, nodding her golden head
at the confused, good looking boy who shuffled his feet in
embarrassment. "He has a car and he might want to sell it to us."
"It's just a jalopy," the boy said shyly, "a '78 Country Squire
station wagon and it's rusted out a bit." He added with some
enthusiasm, "But it runs well."
"How much do you want for it?" Paul inquired cautiously, looking
up at the pimply faced lad who could not have been much more than
sixteen years old.
The boy blushed deeply.
"He wants eight hundred dollars," Bobbie announced eagerly, "and
twenty minutes with me in the back seat."
"Twenty minutes!" Jenny smirked. "Do you really think you'll need
so much time?"
"I'll double that and you won't touch the girl," Paul said with
authority, rising to his feet.
Bobbie frowned and stamped her foot in disappointment.
Jason was eager to conclude the transaction, which took place
outside next to his car, a near wreck. None of them worried about
the paper work. At least the tires retained plenty of tread.
* * *
Todd, in the lead, pulled into the country lane and brought his
Harley to a stop behind a tree, out of sight of the two-lane road.
Sandra rode in just behind him. He held up a hand, not trying to
speak over the poorly muffled pops of the big idling engines, and
craned around to watch the road behind through the narrow gap
between the bushes. He saw a flash of blue. Good! The pickup
that had been worrisomely following them the last few miles went
on past. He drew a finger across his throat, the signal to cut
engines, and immediately stopped his own.
When the woman's machine also fell silent, he asked, "Want to take
a break?"
"Yeah, although we need a few things."
"Like?"
"Like a map and something to drink. God, I thought those cops
would never let us go!"
"We'll stop at the next gas station. Right now I need a leak."
He set the kickstand and got down from his machine. Sandra joined
him, squatting in the bushes.
She finished first. "Hurry up, will you? I'm thirsty."
"Let me shake it off." He turned toward her and flipped the
foreskin back and forth.
She sniffed. "I told you that thing would get us in trouble. If
you hadn't needed to stick it into Paul's women, we'd be 50 grand
ahead right now."
"We'll still make it, soon as we figure out how to get to
Youngstown on these back roads. The cops in Ohio don't know us."
"Yeah, and that's pretty damn strange, when you think about it."
He shook his head. "Maybe the feds that were looking for us in
Michigan didn't expect us in Ohio. Maybe they never told the
locals."
She nodded slowly. "That has to be it. When the pigs discovered
we weren't Paul and Jenny, they just let us unload our bikes and
go." She laughed and continued mockingly in a deepened voice,
"'Ms. Kettering, we're sorry that we have to impound your vehicle.
We don't doubt you bought it from Lanning, though without even a
bill of sale I doubt you'll get it back.'"
Todd's laughter joined hers. He stood before her pulling on his
penis. "What about it, Ms. Kettering? Can your thirst wait a few
minutes?"
She eyed his offering. "Think your kickstand will hold both of us
in this soft dirt?"
He leered. "I'll put a rock under it."
She undid her belt and lowered her jeans again as she turned
around toward the motorcycles. "Then you find the right --"
Thump! They stared up wide-eyed at a large blue pickup truck that
bounced onto their grassy lane, hurtling toward them too fast for
reaction. They had only begun to flinch back into the bushes when
it struck the parallel motorcycles, knocking both off the ground
with thunderous metallic crashes. Both machines, trailing parts,
flew past them into the woods, the truck skidding after.
Curiously Todd's helment, which had been perched atop his sissy
bar, flew through the air and smacked him in the back, knocking
him down and airless.
Sandra's impulse to flee was overridden. She veered to crouch
beside her fallen husband, helping him flop over onto his arched
back. His eyes stared at her hugely above a fish-wide mouth. He
was trying to gasp for breath. She ignored the oversized penis,
still half erect, dangling obscenely from his lowered britches.
The sounds in the woods died away except for one roaring engine.
Suddenly the truck backed out of the brush in a flash and halted,
shuddering, behind her. She did not spare it a glance, even when
its engine quit, a door slammed and twigs crunched under
approaching boots. "Speak to me, Todd! Please speak to me."
"What's the matter with him?" demanded a gruff voice behind her.
At that moment Todd managed to draw a first, wheezing breath. He
began to pant. Sandra looked over her shoulder. She saw a large
man dressed entirely in black, including riding boots. "_You're_
what's the matter with him!" she declared venomously. "You son of
a bitch!"
Whap! Stars floated though her vision. She found herself face
down in last winter's dead leaves. The back of her head ached
until a sharp fiery pain from the top superseded it. A hand
lifted her by the hair of the head and set her back up on her
haunches. "Don't mention my mother again," murmured a deep voice
in her ear, one whose venom made hers seem comparable to the
prattling of a babe.
Spitting out dirt and leaf particles, she hunched herself around
to stare at her tormentor. "Who're you?" she demanded hoarsely.
"You can call me 'Slim.' I've got a few questions for you." He
grinned, looking at Todd's lowered britches. "Were you about to
get it on?"
"You're not a cop!"
His grinned widened. "Right. No Miranda Rule applies to me." He
glanced around. "A good place to get it on is also a good one for
interrogation."
She staggered to her feet, fumbling in her blouse. "That's what
you think!" She produced the small pistol that had so easily
overpowered Paul. "Now give me the keys to your truck before I
kill you."
His expression changed -- but not as she had expected. He laughed
and shook his head. "You poor, stupid bitch!"
She pulled the tigger so hard that the pistol barrel wavered. But
nothing else happened.
Deliberately his big hand enclosed hers, wresting the weapon away.
He held it up before her with one hand while the other thumb pried
back something that clicked above the handle. "This is a Colt .32
on the 1911 design. You have to cock it first. Did some man
always make it ready for you before? Have you even worked the
slide?" He pointed it at Todd's face and pulled the trigger.
Todd flinched, gasping, as the hammer fell with a snap. Slim
laughed. "Is it even loaded?"
Zing-zang! He pulled and released the slide. Almost immediately
the small weapon roared with shocking loudness, producing a tongue
of flame that licked toward Todd.
Sandra jerked back, face suddenly white. Despite the ringing in
her ears, she heard Todd scream in disbelief, "He shot me!"
She knelt to her husband, running her hands over his shirt.
"Where are you shot, honey?"
Behind her the big man laughed. "I missed. Powder particles only
stung his face. This time."
She raised up to look at him. "What do you want?"
"A couple of things," he answered, tilting his head at the display
below them. "Your man's dick is impressive. It may even be
bigger than mine. Let's see if it is. Suck him up."
"Wh-what?"
He extended the smoking pistol until it was inches from her face.
"You heard me. Bend over there, put his dick in your mouth and
suck the blood into it. I've got some questions for you two and I
don't care which one of you answers me."
With a sigh of resignation, Sandra fell to her knees and took the
familiar organ into her mouth. She had never yet been allowed to
pull up her own britches, of which fact she was suddenly reminded.
Hands raised her buttocks higher. She groaned through her nose as
rough fingers thrust first into her dry vagina, then into her
almost virgin anus.
"Not very wet, are you, Ms. Kettering? You must be one who dries
up fast. Well, this may hurt you more than it does me." She
heard him spit. A moment later a large, blunt, rubbery object
forced its way into her bowels. She groaned longer and louder but
dared not expel her growing mouthful.
"Are you fucking her?" Todd asked, looking above her with eyes
alight.
"Up the ass, buddy," was the grinning answer.
"'Up the ass!'" Todd breathed.
"She never let you, did she?"
"No. Said I was too big."
"Well, this is how you do it anyway." The big man laughed
shortly. "Tell me, buddy, what was the truth of your dealings
with Lanning and Collier?"
"Who?"
"Maybe you knew them as Paul and Jenny."
"Oh. I fucked her and that little bitch, too."
"I mean, how is it that you came to be driving Collier's car?"
"We told the cops. Bought it from them."
"Somehow I think that's a lie, but I don't really give a shit how
you got it. You were with them a while, I take it, if you plugged
the woman. What little bitch?"
"They called her Bobbie. I think she's from Michigan."
"Describe her."
"About twelve or thirteen. No tits to speak of. Tight little
cunt! Let's see, she had blonde --"
"Nevermind. Bobbie Marie Gentry is her full name. So, you're a
kid fucker, are you?"
"What do you care? She ain't _your_ kid!"
Slim chuckled grimly. "You think that would make a difference?
Listen up, now: here's the $64 question. Where did they say they
were going after they swapped cars with you?"
Todd shook his head. "I never heard them say. I don't think they
had any particular place in mind. They were just running from a
murder charge. And you're wrong. We never swapped cars."
"Then you don't know what they're driving now?"
"Last I saw them, they were afoot."
"Wrong answer."
With an awesome display of brute force, Slim ripped the woman's
jean shirt up the back, parting it from tail all the way to
collar. In his hands the hooks of her bra straightened and the
halves of it on her back parted with a snap. With one hand he
took up the pistol that he had laid on the ground beside her while
the other slipped under the loosened cloth and crushed her breast
in his fist. She raised her head to begin a scream, choked off by
a deafening pistol explosion above her. She felt Todd's body jerk
and raised up in horror to see a strange confusion of flesh where
his left eye had been -- with flecks of red and white scattered
into the bushes behind him. She felt his last breath escape his
chest as she watched. His head fell back, the one remaining eye
staring sightlessly into the blue sky.
The agony in her breast eased. Numbly she felt the huge member
straining wetly in her entrails. Grunting, the man finally
released her. She fell forward across her husband, eagerly
turning his head in her hands. The rear of it was an even soggier
confusion than the eye socket.
"My god, you've killed him!" she cried in disbelief, rolling onto
her back and staring up at the hovering monster.
He smiled at her in satisfaction. "I'd heard of that, but this is
the proof."
"What are you talking about? You've _killed_ him!"
"Yes, and put his spunk on your chin while mine was pumping into
your ass. Don't you think that's interesting?"
She seemed to be tasting her lips. "You, you ..."
"Do words fail you, Ms. Kettering? That's a shame. Because I'm
about to give you the same test your husband didn't pass."
Her eyes narrowed. "We have $50,000 worth of Marigold Jane seeds,
Slim. They're all yours if you let me go."
He shook his head. "I don't give a shit about that, Ms.
Kettering. And you don't seem to understand the situation. The
question is not _whether_ I let you go, but _how_."
"What do you mean?"
He held the pistol pointing negligently near her. "Fast or slow.
It's up to you. Let's start by having you take off what's left of
your clothes."
* * *
"Well, son, you're early! It's not even suppertime. Give us a
kiss."
He crossed the room with his hands behind him, leaned down and
kissed his mother's lips. When he raised up, she smiled with
twinkling eyes. "What've you got for me?"
"Something a bit unusual." He passed her a plastic zip-lock bag
containing a large, bloody piece of meat, but retained another
package behind him.
"What is it?" She put down her knitting and held the bag up,
peering at its contents, turning it this way and that.
"Why, it's a ... cock! A cock with the balls still attached.
Wow! And a big one it is, too!" Her face was wreathed in smiles.
She parted the seam of the bag, found the head and raised it out
before her. "Good heavens! What was this thing like when it was
erect?"
"About an inch longer than mine, I think."
"You saw it, then? Hey, it's fresh!"
"I cut it off him about three hours ago."
"Hmm." She sniffed the bloody backside. "He hadn't been dead
very long, either."
"About ten minutes."
"Son, you shouldn't take such chances!"
He laughed. "No chances taken here. He was a dope dealer. I
stole a truck and ran him down in the woods. You'll hear
something about it on TV when they find the body."
She had withdrawn the limp foreskin and sniffed the glans. "Can
that be spunk?"
"It can. He was getting sucked off when I blew out the back of
his head."
"Surely not by you!"
"Partly. I did the top blowing. His wife was at the bottom."
"His wife!"
"Yeah. I brought along a part of her, too." He presented the
other plastic bag, which seemed to contain undifferentiated bloody
flesh.
"Part of a woman?" demanded his mother, her lip curled down.
"Not a unique part."
"What do you mean?"
"We've all got one. This is her asshole and about three feet of
large intestine."
"Say that again?"
"I thought, it stands to reason that if you cut the sphincter
muscles loose around the asshole, you can pull the intestines
right out. At least you can on a pig. And guess what: you can on
a human, too."
She shook her head. "If it was a man's asshole, but a woman's?
Yuck! What in hell did you want with her asshole?"
"You might say I got attached to it."
"You fucked her up it, did you? Did she like it as much as I do?"
"She didn't say."
"You killed her, then."
"Yeah. And removed my evidence."
"That's my smart boy! Come on into the bathroom. I want to see
if this one is bigger."
"Huh! How'll you do that?"
"You see this artery? I'll bet if I blow hard into it ..."
NEXT: Chapter 8: Refuge
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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