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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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