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Subject: {ASSM} The Innocent Fugitives Ch26 {Varkel} (MF MM Fm oral anal rape bd bi)
Date: Fri, 2 Mar 2001 15:10:06 -0500
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The Innocent Fugitives
a Novel by Varkel
Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel
Chapter 26: Studies in Depth
One hall of Bobbie's floor contained rooms, each with its own
combination lock of numbered push-buttons on the door. Residents
here might be locked in all the time. With no staff in sight,
Bobbie tried one door after another. Shortly she found one
unlocked and stuck her head inside. The room was exactly like
her own with bed and stand, except this bed contained only a bare
mattress. The room obviously was unoccupied. She strolled
inside and used its bathroom.
When she returned to the hall the skinny nurse from breakfast was
just passing. She glared at Bobbie. "What were you doing in
there?" she demanded loudly, then guessed more quietly, "Diddling
yourself?"
"I had to pee," the girl answered. "Why do these doors have
special locks?"
The woman sniffed. "If you could see some of these poor little
devils, you'd know." She cocked her head with a sneer. "We're
waiting to find out if you ought to move to the secure hall."
"How can you tell?"
"We can tell." Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. "Catching
you fucking the janitor would be a good reason."
"Is he fun?" the girl asked with an innocent expression.
The woman looked over her shoulder. Not another person was in
sight. Tucking the paper bag she carried under her arm, she held
out both forefingers about a foot apart and stared at Bobbie
expectantly. "He's got a black one this long."
The girl allowed her eyebrows to rise. "Did you just love it?"
The woman frowned. "A fast ass _and_ a smart ass, are you? Get
out of here. You're not allowed on the secure hall."
Bobbie turned obediently, moving silently in her Mickey Mouse
slippers. When she heard the woman's footfalls cease behind her,
she turned back, pausing to watch. The nurse's forefinger jabbed
four times at a lock. Even at a distance of 50 feet Bobbie could
see the pattern: the zigzag of 1, 2, 3, 4. Resuming her exit,
she chuckled at its simplicity, adding a second chuckle for her
surmise that very likely all the rest of the locks were set to
the same sequence.
* * *
When Calhoun returned to the torture chamber, he wore slippers
and a dark velvet robe, streaming open from his shoulders. His
dark penis was visible and to Jenny's surprise, considering that
he had presumably been closeted with his mother, fully erected.
Paul's eyes rounded. He was unable to stifle a gasp. Under
other circumstances this might have amused Jenny, but she had
seen this organ's amazing dimensions when withdrawn from Paul the
previous evening.
Calhoun came to her and massaged her belly, watching her as she
winced. "How sore is it?"
She took a deep breath. "I don't think you ... I don't think
anything is ruptured."
He nodded. "It shouldn't be. That was a blow calculated to
disturb the lower organs without causing real damage. If another
must be dealt, it may not be so gentle. Mamma talks of applying
a baseball bat."
Jenny squeaked involuntarily.
The man chuckled. "Yes, you made an impression on her. She has
much less interest in keeping you alive now than she did an hour
ago."
His hand dipped, fingers forcing her labia apart, then
penetrating her. She cringed back, closing her legs in vain.
"Now why should that hurt you?" he inquired. "You would do
better to follow the Chinese advice for women in your
predicament. There is after all absolutely _nothing_ you can do
to prevent me invading your body as I wish! I could put my arm
up your rectum to the elbow, for example, and swooning would be
the most response you could manage."
Jenny stared in horror. He chuckled. "You tempt me, sweetie.
But in fact I am no sadist. Unlike Mamma, I take no particular
pleasure in causing pain to others. I prefer to stimulate my own
mucous membranes, thanks just the same."
He whirled around in front of her and forced her legs apart with
his knees. Stooping while guiding himself into the center of her
groin, he pushed her back to the limits of her chains, at which
point her flesh, dry with fear, nevertheless parted before him.
Hands gripping her buttocks forcefully, he worked his huge organ
into her tender vagina.
"You liar!" she hissed. "You'll tear me! You do love to hurt,
don't you!"
He licked her neck and drew back, grinning. "I feel no pain, my
dear, and in case you haven't noticed, your pain doesn't matter."
He thrust in and out of her several times. "Getting easier,
isn't it?"
He turned to look at Paul. "What do you think about all this,
Mr. Lanning?"
Paul shook his head. "I feel very sorry for my poor Jenny."
Calhoun grinned. "Do you think it's worse for her than for you
last night?"
"Well --"
"Cunt was meant for cock, after all, even a dry and impatient
one, even one large as mine. But your asshole, sir -- Did I
correctly surmise that it was virgin?"
"You son of a ..."
When Paul's voice trailed off, the big man grinned. "I'm glad to
see you're still teachable, Mr. Lanning."
He withdrew from Jenny, turned and went to the control desk. The
motors rumbled, playing out clanking links of the chain attached
to Jenny's wrists. She sagged to her knees. As the chain
continued to emerge, she folded to a kneeling position, head down
almost to the floor, hands between her legs. Paul's chains were
not affected.
Calhoun picked up a straight chair and bore it onto the tile
behind Jenny. He stooped, caught her by the hips and pulled her
backwards up into his lap, her legs straddling his own. One arm
encircled her waist, holding her in position, while his hand
delved into the pocket of his robe and reappeared with a tube of
lubricant. His fingers applied it liberally to her anus,
suggesting what he meant to do next, but she only sagged over his
arm, head lolling dispiritedly and hands trailing toward the
floor.
She made no resistance. Indeed his second entrance was easier
than the first because of the lubricant. His hands rose to her
breasts and closed into fists. She groaned and shuddered as the
muscles stood out on his forearms.
"And now, my dear, the faster you bounce on my cock the easier
I'll squeeze your tits."
Taking a deep breath, Jenny began frenziedly to bounce up and
down to the accompaniment of her rattling chains. Soon she was
panting. Her body glistened with sweat. Calhoun pulled her head
back to his own and tongued her ear wetly. His body stiffened
and he emitted a choking sound. Her eyes opened wide as her
bouncing eased. Hands on her hips forced her erect. She
staggered forward and fell to her knees, from there again to her
elbows. Calhoun rose and took the chair away.
"Did he come?" Paul whispered.
"Yes," she whispered back.
"Was it cold?"
She turned her face up toward him and screeched a bitter laugh
through her tears, cut short as her chains began to tighten.
* * *
The skinny nurse had been gone now for several minutes. Bobbie
threw her magazine on the table and sauntered casually around the
corner to the secure hall. No one was visible except the little
girl who wouldn't talk, still sitting on the floor at the
intersection, her thumb in her mouth.
Bobbie came to the first door with a combination lock. It
wouldn't open; presumably it contained an occupant. She punched
in the combination, 1, 2, 3, 4, and heard a click. Hand again on
the knob, she looked over her shoulder one last time. Though a
hundred feet away, the child with thumb in mouth was watching
avidly.
Bobbie faced back and turned the knob. Now the door swung
silently inward. She slipped past it and closed it quietly
behind her to the click of the latch. Remembering too late, she
twisted the knob and found that the door was again locked, but
she breathed a sigh of relief when she spied the same combination
plate on the inside.
She spun around. This bed, head raised perhaps 30 degrees, was
occupied. The body lying in it was naked above the thighs and
clearly male, another boy about Gerry's age, she thought, with
curly black hair, wisps on chin and chest and somewhat thicker
pubes. The glans of the circumcised penis glowed pinkly from its
dark surround, hardly protruding from the hair. Its extreme
brevity did not surprise the girl; she had seen many in that
state temporarily.
But something was wrong with the owner's legs. The bedcovers
were bunched close below his genitals as if pushed down off his
torso, but no long furrows of legs and turned up toes appeared
beneath them. Were they folded under him somehow?
Bobbie drew near the bed. She thought his green eyes were
beautifully clear. "What's wrong with your legs?"
The green eyes stared at her for a moment. "Got to pee."
"Then go to the bathroom."
"Can't."
She had acted as a nurse, which besides cooking, washing and
fellatio had included fetching the urinal bottle for her Uncle
Kenny the time he fell while drunk and broke his leg. Thus she
recognized the bottle on the floor at the foot of the bed. She
raised it up and found it half full.
"Hold on a minute," she advised. In the lavatory she dumped the
contents into the toilet, returned to the bed and tucked the lip
of it under the boy's shrunken knob. She smiled at the green
eyes. "Cut loose."
Urine rattled strongly into the plastic bottle. She moved the
bunched covers lower in the bed, letting the bottle lie at a
steeper angle -- and froze. Now she understood about his legs.
He possessed none. No buttocks, either. His lower body sloped
roundly from his hips to a blunt point, occupied by scrotum and
penis.
She looked up into the green eyes. "What happened to them?"
"Born that way."
She took a deep breath. "I wish you hadn't been."
"Yeah."
"But ... what are you doing here? Don't they have a school for
people like you?"
"Did have. It burned down."
"I'm sure they have another."
"Maybe. _I_ burned it down."
"You did?"
"I did. I set the linen closet on fire."
The liquid had ceased to rattle. "Squish it," she ordered.
He understood and closed his sphincters, causing the demanded
sound.
"Any more?" she asked.
"No."
Careful not to spill it, she removed the bottle and took it
immediately to the toilet. When she returned, she set it back in
its original place and stood beside the bed with arms akimbo.
"Why did you burn your school down? Didn't you like it?"
He shrugged. "It was all right. They took Gracie away."
"Gracie?"
"My girl friend."
"You mean she moved somewhere else?"
"No. They took her away from _me_. We were perfect together.
She was born without arms. I made her bleed."
"You fucked her!"
"Only once. Then they took her away."
Bobbie wanted to laugh but she remained carefully solemn.
"You've got arms. Why didn't you get Gracie to bring you a clean
sheet?"
"She couldn't. _She_ didn't have arms."
Slowly Bobbie nodded. "I see your point. How would a legless
boy and an armless girl make a bed?"
"You think it's funny?"
Slowly she shook her head. "I think it was terrible. I'm so
sorry for --"
Something rattled the door. Someone was working the combination,
apparently incorrectly. The knob turned to no effect, followed
by a muffled curse. Quick as a flash Bobbie dashed into the
adjacent lavatory. She pushed its door nearly closed just as the
main door finally opened to admit the huge nurse who had
literally held Bobbie for Alice yesterday.
The big woman waddled across the floor, fat lips wreathed in a
smile. "How you feeling, honey?" she asked, reaching the foot of
the bed.
"Okay," answered the boy indifferently.
"I'll just empty your urinal," the woman declared, stooping and
hefting the bottle. "It's empty. Do you need to go?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"You're not drinking enough, Billy," the woman admonished,
returning the bottle to the floor. "I'll bring you a coke in
just a minute."
She grinned fatuously at the boy then turned her back to him,
leaning backward over the bed while supporting herself with hands
on the bedside. She said nothing, but Bobbie could see the boy's
shoulder twitch, followed by the sound of a zipper. The woman
stood up. The zipper sang briefly again. She stepped forward
and shrugged out of her white knee-skirted uniform, which she
folded neatly on the tray table. The boy had obviously unzipped
it for her.
Her slip went over her head. Hands behind her unhooked the plain
brassiere, freeing huge melon-like breasts to dance as she
stooped to force panty hose and panties down her fat legs.
Removing one shoe, she stepped out of that hose, leaving the
garment bunched around the other ankle.
She turned around to face the boy. Bending at the waist, she
converged hands and face on his truncated extremity, but only
briefly.
She raised her head. "Smells like you need to pee. Are you sure
you don't?"
"I'm sure."
"I'd give you a bath but I'm running late. I'll tell Covey."
"Okay."
Down went the head again and commenced to bob. The boy's hand
rose to fondle a huge breast. Bobby saw it close on a nipple
larger than it could hold. The woman's hand plunged between her
legs. Bobby could see the knuckle's rhythmic appearance.
Presently the woman stood up, looking down with a fond
expression. Her chin glistened and at first Bobbie thought she
had taken the boy's ejaculate, then recognized enthusiastic
slobber. One of the fat hands gripped the newly erected member.
Bobbie's eyes widened. She had nearly handled the tiny version
of this one herself, but from her vast experience she could
recall none that grew so far from so little. This knob was thick
as Professor Hawker's had been, and the shaft was half again
longer!
"Billy, I'm in too much of a hurry for you to lick me. Are you
too disappointed?"
"It's okay."
The woman crawled onto the bed with her back toward the foot, her
legs spread around the lad's torso. Reaching forward, she caught
his arms and pulled him up and over on top of her. His rotation
exposed her genitals momentarily. To Bobbie it seemed that the
swollen cock simply fell into the crevice between the hairy, fat
lips.
The woman giggled. "I don't need a licking, do I, honey? Oh,
god, you are so _fine_!"
Her feet rose into the air as her plump thighs closed around his
shrunken bottom. His arching back in counterpoint to her rocking
hips together produced a thoroughly wet and lubricious enfolding
of inflamed tissues. The thrusts and withdrawals caused gurgles
of suction, soon drowned out by the woman's guttural cries.
Bobbie watched the working flesh with wide eyes and wet lips, her
hand sneaking under her shift. But she shook her head violently.
This was probably her only chance. The woman was sure to come
into the lavatory afterwards on one excuse or another.
Bending low, the girl slipped silently by the panting couple.
The door opened readily after she keyed the simple sequence. She
paused on the threshold to look back. The woman's head was
thrown back, her mouth open to grunt between gasps of breath.
Fortunately her eyes were clenched shut. The boy's head was
turned up above hers. His green eyes were wide open, staring
into Bobbie's. As she watched, his lips puckered as if in a
kiss.
She closed the door noiselessly and turned away. The little girl
was still sitting across the intersecting hall, still watching
and still sucking her thumb. Bobbie walked toward her
purposefully. Standing over her, she asked, "Well?"
Out came the thumb. "Did you see them fuck?"
This was a child of maybe eight or nine.
"What do you know about it?" Bobbie asked.
"Hinkle does him in the morning and Covey in the afternoon."
"So they have to check on him. And empty his pee pot."
The girl grinned. "That ain't all."
"What else?"
"When they come out, they smell like jism, but not when they go
in."
"Where'd you ever smell jism?"
"I used to live with a nasty pedo."
Bobbie sniffed and started to turn away but paused. "Why do you
call him nasty?"
"He only wanted to fuck up my ass. Ain't that nasty?"
Bobbie sighed. "Sometimes. Does Alice go to see Billie, too?"
The little girl nodded. "She's only here twice a week, you
know."
"And does she smell like jism when she comes out?"
"I don't know. She smells too different anyway."
* * *
Calhoun left the room for a long while, leaving his prisoners
hanging erect though with fair slack. He returned wearing the
same unbelted robe but now with flaccid penis swinging loosely
between his legs. He bore an opened coke bottle in one hand that
he presented first to Paul's lips, then to Jenny's, permitting
each to take about half.
He brought the chair and sat in it at the edge of the carpet,
rocking back to study their sagging bodies. After a moment he
got up and went again to Paul, bending to examine his genitals at
close range. He turned around, hooked the chair with his foot
and dragged it onto the tile in front of his prisoner. Again he
sat and looked up into Paul's wondering eyes.
"The last cock I sucked was Bud's," he noted almost clinically,
"right after he pulled it out of Beth's ass. Did you ever taste
your wife's ass, Mr. Lanning? I mean inside her rectum. Ever
stick your tongue in there?"
Paul swallowed. "Yes," he admitted in a low voice.
"How did it taste?"
"I didn't do it for taste."
"Too bad. After a couple of enemas and a good reaming by a pair
of cocks, it was actually sweet. She was a rare woman.
Everything about her was delicious. Everything, that is, but her
personality. I despised that. If she had been just a little
less grasping, I wouldn't have killed her."
"She couldn't help that," Paul declared stoutly. "It's how she
was brought up."
"And how was that?"
"Her mother was a whore. She never knew her father."
"Is her mother dead?"
"Yes. She came home drunk and broke the key off in her trailer
door. She passed out and froze to death on her own stoop. Beth
was her duplicate in looks."
"And personality, no doubt." Calhoun's hand lifted the penis
before his face. "Did you put this in her ass, Lanning?"
"You must know she liked it everywhere."
"I know." The big hand manipulated Paul's foreskin. Calhoun
added with a sigh, "Killing her is one of the few things in my
life I regret. I built this room for her, in case you wondered,
and another person I had in mind, exactly her opposite." He
laughed ironically. "Isn't it strange how things turn out? I
needed to put Beth here to protect my secrets and Ruth to make
her behave like Beth. Beth forced my hand, threatening to rat
before this room was ready, and it turned out that all Ruth
needed was for me to ask her. Now she does all Beth's tricks,
only with more enthusiasm and stamina. How ironical! I didn't
need this half million dollar room after all."
"Oh, no?" Paul sniffed. "We've noticed the BB-shot along the
carpet. We're not the first victims."
"That's true. In fact you're the fourth and fifth. Few people
seem to last around Mamma."
"Why are we here at all?"
Calhoun shrugged. "Bad luck for you, good for me. With you here
the prime suspects for that double murder are reliably out of
reach, thus permanently reducing speculation about the real perp.
Another reason to bring you here is so that I could suck Beth's
next-to-last cock. Did you know that your sperm was found in her
womb?"
Calhouns's handling had partly erected Paul's organ. Now the big
man leaned forward and sucked it into his mouth. Paul stiffened,
cutting his face around to stare at Jenny. She stared down at
the spectacle of the powerful hands clamped on Paul's buttocks
while their owner's mouth worked on the completely engulfed
penis. She craned her head further to look along the line of
Calhoun's belly. His own substantial organ remained flaccid.
Her lip curled in bemused disgust.
She looked up at Paul and cocked an eyebrow. A line of spittle
was dangling otherwise unnoticed from his lip. Residue of the
sweet coke or sign of fascination? She opened her mouth to ask
Calhoun if he were a rich man but caught herself in time. Did
she really care that he seemed to prefer Paul? ... For cocks, at
least. She was ahead on cunts. Assholes were a tie.
Calhoun raised his head. "You're about to come, aren't you?"
"God, yes!" Paul proclaimed. "Jiggle it, at least."
Calhoun laughed. "I'll do better than that. I'll show you the
advantage of being chained up."
He closed his lips again around the pulsing organ, cheeks
collapsing with suction. Paul groaned once, then a second time,
louder. He tried to withdraw his hips, but Calhoun's arms had
encircled them.
Paul's next groan was a scream. His body twisted, feet kicking,
arms flailing to the limits of their clanging chains, not nearly
far enough to dislodge the sucking mouth with its keen pleasure
that was now also the purest agony. The experience became
literally unbearable. He slumped, his whole body sagging,
heedless of the cuffs biting his wrists with his entire weight.
At that development Calhoun released him and sat back. A last
white dribble fell from the tip of the inflamed penis.
"My god!" Jenny exclaimed. "Is he ... Is he --"
"Passed out," announced the big man, grinning up at her. "Now he
knows the meaning of 'unbearable pleasure.' Everyone should try
it once. I'll do the same for you in a day or two, if Mamma
doesn't kill you first."
* * *
After such an interesting start, Bobbie's morning went only
downhill. She roamed the wards, looking through doorways at
other patients. When the rare nurse saw her, she was invariably
shooed away from those rooms and told to stay close to her own.
Her gray linen hospital shift, full size at last, reached just
below her knees. Her forearms were bare. The Mickey Mouse
slippers on her feet contrasted incongruously with the dull
blandness of everything else around her.
She could not win over any of the nurses with cutesy smiles or
affectations of innocence. They sneered at her, and at lunch one
of them actually slapped her hard on the back of the head when
she refused to eat the boiled cabbage on her dinner tray. The
woman had also called her a little slut and claimed to fear she
had diseases no one had yet discovered.
She did manage to find herself an amusing boy sometime after
lunch was over. She found him hiding on the floor behind a couch
in one of the lounging rooms. His smock was tucked up under his
chin and he was fingering his small penis in fascination. He
seemed only somewhat younger than she.
"What are you doing?" she asked innocently as sat beside him on
the floor.
He did not respond, although he looked at her face and moved his
lips in a curious way.
"I know how to make it feel better," she said sweetly, taking the
small, hard rod into her grasp.
A frightened look came over the boy's face when Bobbie began to
masturbate him expertly. She formed a circle of forefinger and
thumb and worked him within it, her trailing fingertips tickling
the underside. He soon broke into a large smile.
"You like that, don't you?" she asked as though she were
addressing a dog whose belly she was scratching.
"Oh!" the boy exclaimed before long and looked down in amazement
as his cock erupted for the first time in his life, producing a
surprisingly copious squirt that splashed on one of his knees.
"Bobbie Gentry," she heard her name called from the hallway.
She jumped to her feet and licked the boy's spunk from her hand.
"I have to go now," she said regretfully, edging toward the door.
The boy looked dumbly at her, then turned again to pull on his
cock.
* * *
"Bobbie Gentry. Come with me!"
Bobbie pulled a wedgie from the rear of her shift and walked at a
leisurely pace toward the waiting nurse, whose expression of
impatience had graduated to annoyance.
When she was in range, the woman grabbed her arm. "Come on,
slow-poke! The doctors are almost here."
Bobbie lurched willy-nilly down the hall behind the nurse. "I'm
not sick," she protested.
"That's what _you_ think," the nurse countered enigmatically.
"What do the doctors want?"
"You'll find out. Do you need the restroom?"
"No."
The woman led her into an antiseptically white room with a padded
examination table at one end and a curiously made chair at the
other. It reclined, and it had two sets of armrests, one set
raised in front of the chair.
The nurse released her. "Take off all your clothes and get in
the pelvic chair."
Several ordinary chairs graced the room. Bobbie doubted that any
of them deserved a special name. She pointed at the peculiar
chair. "That one?"
"That's what I said. Now hurry up. They'll be here any minute."
The nurse hung shift and slippers on a coat tree and helped
Bobbie raise her legs into the chair's stirrups. The girl
laughed. "So they're _leg_ rests!"
The nurse sniffed. "You never had a G-Y-N, did you?"
"What's that?"
"You'll find out."
A lamp was attached to one of the stirrups. The nurse turned it
on and positioned it to illuminate the girl's groin.
Bobbie looked down at herself and suggested, "They can't miss it
now, can they?"
A male voice sounded from beyond the open door. "This is an
interesting case, doctor." Two men wearing long white lab coats
strolled into the room. One was quite old, bald, face adorned
with a flowing white beard, the other a clean-shaven young man
with brown hair whom Bobbie, eyes widening with interest, thought
to be much like Tom and even more handsome.
"Here is her chart." The young man put a clipboard into the
elder's hand.
"Summarize it," ordered the elder in a gruff voice.
"I know the term has fallen into ill-repute," the young man noted
diffidently, "but since you ask for a summary, I believe I can
give it in one word: nymphomania."
"Indeed!"
"We are not certain of her age; her birth certificate has not yet
arrived from Michigan. But judging by --"
"Ask her."
"Ah, yes, sir. Miss Gentry, how old are you?"
This young doctor had the most interesting eyes! But he'd be
like Tom, Bobbie supposed, with no interest at first in a mere
child. She winked at him and replied, "22."
"Preposterous!" declared white beard, glaring at her.
She tossed her head. "Well, it's the age I'd like to be!"
The young man's eyes twinkled but he cleared his throat. "As I
was saying, judging by size, weight and the lack of developing
secondary sexual characteristics, we believe her to be twelve,
perhaps verging on thirteen."
"Rather young for your primary diagnosis, wouldn't you say,
doctor?"
"Yes, sir, indeed she is young. But I must protest your
characterization of my summary as a diagnosis. No such
conclusion is possible yet. We need much more information, of
course. And nymphomania is no longer recognized as a true
psychological deviation."
The older man chuckled. "Yes. Nowadays it almost seems to be
the preferred state. Then one may presume this young lady is not
_virgo intacta_. Nurse, a speculum, please."
The woman opened a drawer in the front of the chair and handed
the doctor an instrument made of clear plastic. The man leaned
forward, one hand directing the light, and applied the tips
delicately between Bobbie's labia.
"Ooo!" murmured the girl.
The nurse suggested, "Doctor Felder, don't you need jelly?"
"Nurse, do you see that moisture on the perineum? This one needs
no jelly." As he spoke he slid the collapsed spokes into the
girl's body. Her only response was a slight twitch.
"This patient is certainly suggestible," white-beard noted. "But
tell me, Dr. Sonnenschein, what is the basis of your summary?"
"She recorded a tape in her voice in which she reports her sexual
exploits to an apparently affectionate male friend. I have a
copy of it and its transcript, if you wish to study them. I have
counted the incidents. She claims contact with 87 different men
and boys in a three-year period, and I understand the police have
verified some of them."
"87 different men?"
"Yes, sir, with many repetitions in some cases."
"Well, I'd say that qualifies!" The elder doctor had compressed
the handles of the speculum and was peering into the girl's
recesses. "Look here, doctor," he ordered. The young man bent
beside him. "I know gynecology is of little concern to
psychiatrists, but this should interest you, especially in view
of your, ah, _summary_. Do you see this cervix? It is prolapsed
upward and apparently imperforate, more appropriate to a girl of
six or seven than one entering adolescence."
The old man raised up to regard the girl's interested face.
"Miss, will you confirm that you have never experienced menses?"
Bobbie cocked an eyebrow. "What's the right answer, doc?"
The hovering nurse responded, "He means, have you ever had your
period?"
The young man was watching her intently. She replied with a
shrug, "Oh, yeah, lots of times."
Dr. Felder grunted and glanced meaningfully around to
Sonnenschein. "I'm beginning to understand why you're prime on
this one." He leaned forward between the girl's legs and pressed
one side of her belly near the hip with his thumb.
"Hey, that hurts!" Bobbie complained.
He transferred his thumb to the other side, pressing again.
Bobbie snarled, gripping the arms of the chair as if preparing to
rise, but he drew back. "I know that was painful, miss, but it's
over now, and I'm sorry that I hurt you."
She grated, "Haven't you learned where to push on a girl _yet_?"
The young man flashed her a grin but the nurse growled, "Shut up.
The doctor has to examine you."
The old man said, "You may take the cultures now, nurse. And
draw 50 CC of blood. We need a full workup on this one." He
drew back to let the woman bend between Bobbie's legs, bearing a
kit of swabs and glass slides.
"Also, Dr. Sonnenschein, I want an X-ray of the pelvis, including
the ovaries, if any are present."
The young man's eyebrows rose. "If what?"
Felder shook his head. "I couldn't feel them, doctor. This girl
is far less mature reproductively than your count of conquests
would suggest. Are you certain that tape was more than mere
braggadocio?"
"I understand the police have verified some of the incidents
described. She was arrested with semen in her vagina and
Vaseline in her rectum. What could have happened to her
ovaries?"
"Many things, doctor, including brevity. What if she is a six or
seven year old suffering from giantism?"
"What? I can't believe that!"
"Why can't you?"
"She is far too confident and self-assured for such an age."
Felder grinned. "Under those criteria perhaps her claim to be 22
is valid."
"Huh! Dr. Felder --"
"And here's something else consistent with extreme youth and a
tape full of brags: this vagina looks to be as healthy as any I
ever saw -- no streaks of yeast, no sign of any infection
whatever, just glowing pink tissue glistening with its own
secretions."
Sonnenschein cocked an eyebrow. "'Glowing pink,' eh?"
"Excuse me. I am apt to wax rhapsodic over this subject. I have
always considered a healthy vagina to be the most beautiful
object into which the eye might probe. Ahem! Of course, to
pronounce her completely healthy we must wait for the lab
results. But I should be surprised if they show any bacterial or
viral problem."
"Thank you, doctor."
The older man hesitated then shrugged. "I don't mean to tell you
your job, doctor, but if that tape is to be believed, shouldn't
you be leaning toward a diagnosis of OCD?"
"Well, perhaps, but not everything is on all fours here. Of
course, it seldom appears so at first, especially in cases of
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. But thank you for your concern.
I certainly have it in mind."
The elder chuckled. "In other words, tend to your own knitting,
eh? Okay, what's next, Sonnenschein?"
They turned toward the door. The young man answered dryly, "A
second case of Jesus Christ, if you believe the young lady.
She's about at term but swears that no man ..."
The voice trailed away. Bobbie said to the woman presently
inserting small cotton-tipped rods where the plastic stretcher
had been, "What's Obsess -- Obsesser Distorter?"
The nurse answered absently. "You'll find out."
NEXT: Chapter 27: Histories
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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