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Subject: {ASSM} The Innocent Fugitives Ch27 {Varkel} (MF MM mg oral self-oral anal tort bd sad)
Date: Sat,  3 Mar 2001 17:10:04 -0500
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The Innocent Fugitives
a Novel by Varkel
Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel



Chapter 27: Histories



Calhoun put his chair away and tightened their chains.  "Oh, no," 
groaned Jenny when he uncoiled the hose from its cubbyhole.

The big man paused at the edge of the tile.  "If either of you 
would care to urinate before your bath, I'll give you a moment."

"Will you let me squat?" asked Jenny.

"Why is that necessary?"

She sighed and separated her knees as far as the chains 
permitted.  Shortly a stream parted the labial lips to splash on 
the tile.

"What about you, Mr. Lanning?  You should be over your tingling 
by now."

This man had taken him homosexually twice now.  Paul found 
himself unable to meet the other's gaze.  But he could release 
his bladder and did so, withdrawing his hips to keep the stream 
away from the carpet.

When their flows ceased, Calhoun remarked ominously, "Neither of 
you have defecated this morning.  Perhaps I can help you with 
that."

Icy cold at first, the forceful water soon warmed up to 
tepidness.  Both man and woman groaned when it played on the 
genitals but endured it stoically otherwise.  Shutting it off 
long enough to operate both sets of slip rings through 180 
degrees, leaving them hanging by their ankles, Calhoun restored 
it to wash their backsides.  As he had done before, he used the 
nozzle to flush Jenny's vagina and to force water briefly into 
both upside-down anuses.  They moaned with the pain of distended 
intestines as he caused them to rotate again to the upright 
position.  While turning, both splashed the tile copiously with 
feces and stained water.  Calhoun washed that away, then inverted 
them once again, contenting himself this time with washing the 
residual stain from their backsides.  After returning the hose to 
its cubby he straightened them up, leaving them dripping and 
shivering.

At the control desk he released Jenny's chains as he had done 
earlier.  Instead of kneeling, this time she squatted, hugging 
her knees to her breast for warmth.  Calhoun hung his robe over 
the back of a chair.  She stared at the man's impressive 
musculature as he retrieved something from the robe pocket.  He 
turned and came towards them.  She sighed, dropping her head.  If 
he deigned to hug her, at least he would be warm.

But he bypassed her to stand behind Paul, still stretched nearly 
straight by his chains, dripping and shivering.  She craned her 
neck.  The big man slathered Paul's anus, then worked his own 
penis with the same hand.

"Oh, goddamn!" Paul cried, clenching his teeth, hips driven 
forward.

"You might as well relax," Calhoun advised.  "It's going in one 
way or the other."

Paul groaned, face drawn in a grimace that relaxed somewhat as 
the other's organ penetrated.  His chains clanked again and again 
as the big man drove both pairs of hips back and forth.

Calhoun commanded, "Mrs. Collier, get your mouth over here."

Jenny swung around beside Paul, kneeling at his hip, suddenly 
thankful for the enemas.

Calhoun laughed.  "Not me, silly woman.  Him.  Suck him off if 
you can."

Paul's manhood was already semi-stiff.  Under the influence of 
her suckling lips and tongue, it erected fully in only a few 
seconds.  She looked up at him wonderingly, but his eyes were 
closed, face still drawn into a grimace.  Knowing his 
preferences, her hand cupped his testicles.

She well remembered how Calhoun's huge organ, at least big as the 
largest bolus she ever passed, had stung her own anus.  If she 
encouraged the big man to orgasm sooner, might Paul be grateful?  
With a tinkle of chains her other hand passed between Paul's 
legs, stretching to find Calhoun's scrotum.  She began gently 
squeezing it, thumb working between the soft stones.

Apparently it succeeded.  Soon Calhoun groaned and his hips 
thrust forward without withdrawing.  Jenny would have smiled had 
her lips been free.  At least she was not entirely a helpless 
spectator at her own --

Suddenly her mouth filled up with a cool liquid.  In absolute 
astonishment she thought at first that it derived from Calhoun.


* * *


The young boy behind the couch was still playing with himself 
when Bobbie returned.  Spying her, his eyes lit and he smiled, 
but his hand continued its effort.

"Did you make it pop again?" she asked, settling to the floor 
beside him.

He said nothing.  He released himself, took her hand and brought 
it to the sensitive flesh.

She laughed.  "You think I'm the only one can do it?"  She took 
the morsel between thumb and forefinger, no longer so firm as her 
last contact with it.  She worked the foreskin gently.  Her other 
hand went between her legs.  "Do you know how to trade?" she 
asked.

For answer his hand raised the skirt of her shift.  She spread 
her knees well apart.  Tentatively he touched the crack between 
her labia, feeling below it.  His eyes on hers were huge.

"Don't you know the difference between boys and girls?" she 
demanded impatiently.  "Say, can you talk?"

"Flieb," he uttered distinctly.

"Flieb?  What does that mean?"

"It's his name," declared a childish voice.  Bobbie looked 
hastily around, her hand frozen.

"Up here."  

Peering over the top of the couch was the young thumb sucker from 
the intersection near Secure Hall.  "It's all he can say.  He's 
not very bright.  How did you make him let you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Jack his dick.  He won't let me touch it."

"Did you try?"

"He hit me."

"He won't hit you, will you, Flieb?"

"Flieb," declared the lad, moving his hips and thus the bit of 
flesh between Bobbie's fingers.

"Come on down here and play," Bobbie told the girl.

In a moment she crawled behind the couch on the other side of the 
boy.  Immediately her face sank toward his midsection.

"Anh-anh!" cried the lad, hitching his hips away and balling a 
fist.

Bobbie caught his wrist.  "What's the matter, Flieb?  You'll 
_love_ what she wants to do to you!"

The newcomer grunted.  "He thinks I'll bite him."

"Did you bite him?"

"I love dicks.  I really love to suck dicks, especially little 
ones that don't squirt."

Bobbie's hand resumed its motion in the lad's groin.  His arm 
relaxed but he still glared at the younger girl.

Bobbie noted, "I thought your nasty pedo only wanted to fuck you 
up the ass."

"I meant he was afraid they'd catch him if he busted my cherry.  
I sucked his dick a lot."

"Well, then, let's prove to Flieb that you don't bite."

"Then don't let him hit me."

Bobbie caught both of the lad's wrists.  "Flieb," she said 
soothingly, let her suck you.  You'll love it, and then you can 
lick her."

But the boy twisted out of Bobbie's hands, thrusting his shift 
down to his knees.  "Anh-anh!" he called, grimacing and 
struggling to his feet.  "Anh-anh!"

The young girl sat back, laughing derisively.  "Chicken Flieb, 
chicken Flieb!" she declared.

The boy swung at her.  She fell back, rolling over to collapse on 
the floor, laughing even harder.  The boy shouted, "Anh-anh!"

Bobbie caught him in her arms.  "Hush!  You'll attract Covey."

Again he threw her off with surprising strength.  Turning away 
with a sniff, he hurried stiff-legged out of the lounge, his 
whole body bespeaking outrage.

Bobbie stared after him thoughtfully.  The girl quit laughing and 
sat up.

Bobbie said accusingly, "You did bite him, didn't you."

"No," she averred, still grinning.  "Not him."

"Who, then?"

"You don't know why I'm in here, do you?"

"I don't know anything about you, except what you said and that 
Flieb is afraid of you."

"They're all afraid."

"Of what?"

"Me."

Bobbie stared at her, a slim girl half a head the shorter.  
"Why?"

"Because I bit off my pedo's dick head."

"You _what_?"

The girl stared back, her face solemn now.  "He strangled me.  I 
didn't really mean to do it.  My grown-up teeth were very sharp 
when they first came in."

"You actually bit it off?"

"And swallowed it whole."

Bobbie's mouth fell open.  The two girls stared at each other.  
Bobbie gulped and asked in a lower voice, "How did it taste?"

"I don't know.  He hit me so hard he knocked me out."

Bobbie took a deep breath and said incredulously, "You bit his 
dick head off?"

"That's right.  That's why they put me in here."

Bobbie noted disgustedly, "I'm beginning to think everyone in 
here is fucked up one way or another."

"Sure," the girl sniffed.  "That's why people come here.  What 
did _you_ do?"


* * *


Calhoun brought them dinner when he returned after several hours.  
As the previous meals of his provenance, it was of indifferent 
quality though ample, still warm from a fast-food restaurant: 
three loaded cheeseburgers apiece with fried potatoes, pie and 
quart-sized cups of a carbonated beverage.  They had been 
awaiting his pleasure on the carpet.  He tightened their ankle 
chains to restrict them to the tile but left them able to sit on 
the floor with enough freedom in the hands to eat the food.  
Dressed in his typical dark robe, open in front, he pulled up a 
chair before them and sat, watching them eat.

Jenny decided to try her question.  Around a mouthful of 
cheeseburger she suggested, "You must be a very wealthy man."

"I am," Calhoun admitted, "thanks to my father's industry and my 
mother's parsimony."

"Unusual to find a rich policeman."

He smiled.  "Very.  But not undesirable.  It is assumed that a 
wealthy policeman would be unbribable, which I am."

"Not even by an attractive woman?"

He chuckled.  "In my youth so many attractive women submitted to 
me that I grew sick of them.  Most of them are motorized cunts 
with no character, suitable mates for the foolish men who want 
such women, who cannot see the beauty of the woman whom I finally 
found to love."

Paul said, "Didn't you consider Beth attractive?"

"I admit to a use for motorized cunt under certain circumstances, 
so long as it remains complaisant, which is the other problem 
with women.  How well did you know Beth?  By all the indicators: 
pulse rate, flushing, panting, lubricating, she could experience 
sexual orgasm fully.  I am convinced of that.  Yet she never 
thought it was important.  It was not an end in itself, merely a 
means to influence her partners.  You must have noticed her basic 
disinterest."

Paul stared as he chewed.  "I never put words on it, but --"

"Whereas Ruth, as I anticipated, has proved quite different.  She 
experiences sex so completely as to lose consciousness.  She 
tries to arrange matters so that while I am home with her, my 
cock is buried somewhere in her flesh.  Nothing is more important 
to her."  He laughed harshly.  "The day is soon coming, my dears, 
when I shall begin to wonder why I spend so much time with _you_ 
instead!"

Jenny stated positively, "You know why."

"Do I?"

"Even the most complaisant partner does not enjoy naked 
contempt."

He cocked his head and leered.  "Whereas you do?"

She spread her hands with a tinkle of chains.  "In our case the 
word is 'endure,' not 'enjoy.'"

He studied her.  "Your point being that this endurance is 
valuable to me, perhaps more valuable than Ruth's acceptance?"

She smiled.  "I think so.  Didn't you say you planned originally 
to hang her here?"  She took another bite.

He only stared at her.  When she had swallowed most of that bite, 
she added, "The first thing you told us was incorrect, even 
though I think you want to believe it."

"And that was?"

"That you take no pleasure from causing pain."

He sniffed.  "I think you've had too little contact with sadists 
to understand the difference."  An ominous smile appeared.  "You 
may soon get an education.  I won't be the one who wakes you up 
tomorrow."

Paul and Jenny continued eating, though with reduced appetite.  
Calhoun spread his legs and openly masturbated himself to 
erection.  When they had gathered their trash back into the 
original bags, he set it near the exit, went to the control desk 
and forced Paul stiffly erect with little play left in legs and 
arms.  He lengthened Jenny's ankle chains and picking up the 
chair, motioned her around before Paul.  "Suck his dick."

She knelt in front of Paul.  A glance over her shoulder revealed 
Calhoun squeezing his tube of lubricant, which told her what to 
expect.  Obediently her head bent to Paul's organ.  The chair 
clicked onto the tile behind her.  Powerful hands raised her 
hips.  Something cold and greasy rubbed into her anus, followed 
by a thrusting undeniable despite its awful diameter.  She 
consciously relaxed and this time admitted the huge intrusion 
with a minimum of pain.

Despite her best efforts, Paul's organ swelled hardly to half its 
capability.

Large hands closed on her breasts, rolling and compressing them 
almost painfully.  The plunging into her rectum developed a kind 
of warmth, a tingle in the clit.  From the forces transmitted 
through her flesh?  Briefly she wondered if it were possible for 
a woman to climax this way.  Hanna had claimed it, she recalled.  
Did she dare to rub herself?

"Handle my balls," the man ordered.  She reached down beyond the 
huge jostle, found the swinging flesh and began to caress it as 
she had earlier.  The inside of her forearm compressed her 
clitoris intermittently with an electrical thrill.  Her last 
orgasm had occurred in Chicago.  Could she perhaps ...

Something cool flooded her entrails.  After a last deep thrust 
Calhoun pulled out of her and backed away, taking his chair.  He 
went immediately to the control desk and pushed one of the 
presets, the effect of which was to leave each of them chain 
enough to reach the carpet.  Then taking their trash he departed 
the room.

"Did he come?" asked Paul, relaxing with the tinkling of his 
links.

She nodded.

"In your ass?"

"Yes.  Can you do it ... in front?"

His eyes narrowed.  "He made you hot, did he?"

She took a breath, lowering her eyes.  "Yes, he did."

Paul grunted.  "A regular fuck must be rare as hell in this 
place."

She lay on her back on the carpet, legs spread wide.  "Can you?"

"I don't know."  He straddled her torso, slowly kneeling over her 
shoulders.  She raised her elbows on top of his thighs.  "Suck me 
again," he directed.

Hands on his hips pulled him closer.  She raised her head 
slightly and took him in.

He watched her cheeks expand and collapse, musing after a bit, "I 
wonder why he hasn't made you do this for _him_."

She unmouthed him long enough to say, "He's afraid I'll bite."

"And would you?"

"Do you think I'm crazy?  Even if I could take it off, which I 
doubt, not in one bite, he wouldn't bleed fast enough to save my 
life."

Her mouth enclosed him again but opened almost immediately.  
"That may be a question for you, too, you know."

Paul agreed dryly, "Yeah, I know.  I've been expecting it."

"And will _you_ bite him?  You might have more reason."

"I might?"

"You never sucked a cock before, did you?"

He sighed.  "Once.  My roommate in college, when we were drunk.  
I moved out the next day...  No, I guess I wouldn't bite him.  
What would be the point?"

Jenny was amused to note that now Paul's manhood was swollen firm 
as a rubber mallet.  She said only, "Slip down, honey.  I'm ready 
for you."


* * *


Cat-like, Gerry slipped unnoticed past the nurse's station on 
hands and knees, crowding the walls, until he rounded a corner 
and rose to scamper down the corridor to Bobbie's room.  At the 
door he spat out the key that he had carried under his tongue.  
It was the master key that overrode the electrical lock, and it 
admitted him to this door readily as it had opened his own.  In 
the dim interior, door closed behind him, he strained on tiptoe 
and tucked the key above the lintel.

"Are you awake?" he whispered.  The bathroom light faintly 
illuminated the bed upon which Bobbie lay naked.

"What kept you?" she complained, rising on an elbow to look at 
him.  "I've already played with myself."

Gerry did not reply.  He came to the bed and stared at her naked 
body.

"Haven't you ever seen a girl before?" she asked impatiently.  
"Take off your robe and climb up here."  She moved to the far 
edge of the bed to make room for him.

"You're so skinny!" she remarked, when he finally squatted on the 
bed beside her.  "And you have hair down there almost like a 
grown up."

"No, I've never seen a girl before," he finally answered, pushing 
a finger into her hairless labia.

"You've never fucked?"

"Not a girl."

Bobbie wrapped her fingers around his hard, slender organ.  "If 
you can suck yourself, why do you want to fuck?"

"I didn't say I wanted to."

"Then why did you come here?  You could have stayed in your room 
and done yourself."

"Because you're pretty.  Because you said you wanted to see me do 
it."

"Oh."

"Do you want to see it?"

"Yeah.  But I also want you to fuck me."

"Okay, but afterwards."

She pumped him slowly and brought forth a dollop of clear liquid.  
"Can I taste it first?"

"Just for a little while," he replied, lying back.

She knelt over the pale, skinny body, leaned down and took the 
entire length into her mouth.  She heard other moist sounds and 
looked up to find him vigorously sucking his thumb.

After several slurping movements of her head, he pushed her away.  
"I want to do it," he declared possessively.  "I do it better."

Bobbie sat back on her heels and watched the boy swing his legs 
over his head.  He pulled on them with his arms and strained to 
bring his head forward.  First his tongue and then his lips 
touched the penis tip, and with a sudden push half of the organ 
disappeared into his mouth.

"Wow!"  Bobbie exclaimed and moved her head so close that her 
nose almost touched his.

Holding his head steady Gerry sucked noisily on his cock.  Bobbie 
looked up to see that his eyes were closed.  Saliva drooled from 
the corners of his mouth and down the shaft onto his balls.  
Bobbie popped one of them into her mouth.  Gerry soon became 
agitated.  His buttocks squirmed and he emitted a high-pitched 
nasal squeal.  His Adam's apple bobbed in several swallows.  Then 
with a sigh of relief he straightened out and lay flat on the 
bed, eyes still closed.  His head rested on the pillow with an 
expression of complete contentment on his face.

"What did that feel like?" Bobbie asked eagerly.

He remained silent for a moment.  "I can't really describe it," 
he finally said and opened his eyes.  "But it's better than 
fucking."

"But you've never fucked a girl," Bobbie protested with a pout.

"So what?  I can't imagine anything being better than that.  Can 
you imagine fucking yourself?"

"It's not fair!  I don't have a cock!" she retorted bitterly.

He sniffed and closed his eyes again.

"You said you'd fuck me," she declared impatiently.  "You 
promised."

"Not right now," he replied in a far away voice.  "I need to rest 
for a bit."

She laid herself beside him.  "Do you want to look at my body and 
touch it?  I almost have titties."

He remained silent with his eyes closed.

"You promised," she complained again and pulled at his flaccid 
member with her fingers.

His eyes popped open.  "Well, I'm not going to kiss you," he 
declared defiantly.  Grudgingly his hand came up to palm an 
incipient breast.

"You don't really need anyone, do you?" she growled in disgust, 
although the slight stiffening between his legs encouraged her.

"Not any more," he replied with great equanimity.  "They said 
I'll be locked up forever, and I don't care."

"Well, you should fuck a girl at least once in your life," Bobbie 
argued, pleased that the boy's cock was again hard.  "I'll get on 
top."

She got astride him and wriggled her body onto his cock.  She 
moved on him more vigorously as her juices began to flow, but she 
was frustrated by his passivity.  He just lay there with his eyes 
closed as she bounced up and down.

"Don't you feel anything?" she complained, but his face said it 
all.  "This is the worst fuck of my life, Gerry!" she protested 
and rubbed her clit, wanting it to be over.

Bobbie gave up after a small orgasm that scarcely brought forth a 
squeak.  His cock had begun to wither even before she was 
finished.  He had no climax.

"Go on back to your own room!" she yelled at him angrily and 
jumped off the bed.

Just then the door flew open.  A nurse stood on the threshold.  
"What the hell is going on here?" she shouted, staring balefully 
at Bobbie.  "This is not a whore house, you little slut!"

She slammed Bobbie to the floor with the back of her hand, and 
with the other one she pulled Gerry from the bed and sent him 
sprawling.  With him out of the way, she jerked Bobbie onto her 
feet and slapped her face stingingly.  The girl collapsed 
backward onto the bed.  The nurse bent over her snarling, "You 
little bitch!  They warned us about you.  I'll put a cork in your 
cunt if I catch you doing this again."

Behind her Gerry jumped to his feet, snatched his key off the 
lintel and fled through the open door, his shadow momentarily 
darkening the room.  "I know who you are, Gerald Porter," the 
woman shouted after him.  She turned back to Bobbie and shook her 
by the shoulder.  "How did you get him in here?"

"I don't know how he got in," Bobbie answered sullenly, drawing 
herself into a fetal ball.

Suddenly from behind her the woman jammed two fingers between the 
girl's crossed legs, directly into the unfledged vagina.  Bobbie 
screamed with fear and pain, then began to wail, "I want to go 
home!"

"You are home, you poor little slut."  The woman held up her 
fingers in the light from the doorway.  "At least I caught you 
before he could fuck you."


* * *


They awakened to bright lights, grinding motors and the rattle of 
chains.  Yawning and gasping, they were pulled up, hands over 
heads, to the tautness of full erection.  Yet no one else was in 
the room.  When the motors stopped, they hung in expectant 
silence, but nothing happened.

Paul asked, "Do you suppose that was automatic?"

"Or somebody slipped in and hit one of the presets."

After a while he noted, "My bladder's full."

"So's mine.  Don't get it on the carpet."

Urine on the feet was becoming customary, even for Paul, whose 
outflow typically wet the bottom of his feet on its way to the 
sunken drain hole.  "This is getting old," he groused.

"Count your blessings," Jenny advised tartly.  "At least you 
don't have a huge penis stuck up your ass this morning.  If it's 
morning."

"Yeah," he agreed half-heartedly.

She smiled.  "Or is it getting more tolerable for you, too?"

He sighed.  "Speaking of what's tolerable, how are your wrists 
and ankles?"

"I think they're toughening up: my wrists, at least.  I can hang 
from them now, if I turn my hands at the right angle."

"You can?  You mean you don't clutch the ring where the chain 
attaches?"

He heard her chains tinkle.  She produced a low chuckle.  "You're 
right, that's better.  I hadn't noticed it."

Motion attracted Jenny's eye.  "Uh-oh," she said under her 
breath.

With a click Amy Calhoun closed the door behind her.  She stood 
just inside it, wearing a bright, sky-blue satin robe, staring 
balefully from one to the other.

"Good morning," Paul called cheerfully, adding Jenny's phrase, 
"if it's morning."

"It's morning, all right," the woman's voice grated.  "It may be 
the last one you see.  Or the last one she wants to see."

On the final word she snatched the BB rifle up from its 
concealment within the folds of her robe and leveled it on Jenny.  
The pop from its muzzle was followed immediately by a scream from 
Jenny and the cry, "Oh, my boob!"

Swish-flack-pow!  Another scream.  "Oh, god, oh, god!"  Jenny's 
body convulsed, muscles standing out in her belly.

Swish-flack-pow!  This BB dinged off something behind them.  
Swish-flack-pow!  Jenny screamed again and seemed to be trying to 
close her thighs.

Amy did not miss another.  After nearly a dozen shots Jenny was 
bawling like a child, her whole body twisting and convulsing as 
much as the chains permitted.

"Cut it out!" shouted Paul.  Swish-flack-pow!  Something stung 
his neck viciously.  He groaned involuntarily.

Amy turned another long round of shots upon the unfortunate 
Jenny.  When one struck her eyebrow, Jenny tilted her head back, 
exposing a long and tender neck that drew the tormentor's 
subsequent fire.  Skin is tender there, where its own folds 
normally protect it.  One of the BBs broke through the epidermis, 
though it rolled away without lodging.  A drop of blood appeared 
and left a narrow streak to Jenny's collar bone.  Apparently that 
was Amy's objective.  She turned and disappeared through the 
door.

Tears poured down Jenny's face, diluting the blood from the wound 
in her neck.  She gasped, groaning and sniffing, body still 
writhing, gradually easing.

"Oh, Jenny, I'm so sorry!" he offered.

Her sniffling slowly subsided.  She turned her face to him.  Red 
spots were visible on forehead, cheeks and chin.  Others were 
prominent on breasts, belly and thighs.  Jenny said dolefully, "I 
think she meant to shoot out one of my eyes."

"My god."

"She didn't care if she _did_, either!  That woman is a greater 
monster than her son, Paul."

"Maybe," he said dryly.  "I think they're two peas in a pod.  
It's just that Calhoun wants to use us sexually before he 
tortures us too much."

"Huh!  A cock can't sting like those pellets of his mother's."

"That's true."

"Let's hope he doesn't lose interest.  Thanks for ... trying to 
help me."

"I'm sorry it didn't work."

"She shot you, too, didn't she?"

"Yeah, on the neck.  By the way, Jenny, did you know your neck is 
bleeding?"

"Bleeding very much?"

"No.  I think the shot barely broke the skin."

She shrugged with a rattle of chains.  "There's not a thing I can 
do about it, even if she punctured the aorta."

Shortly Amy returned, pushing a small wheeled cart of the type 
often found beside hospital beds.  She rolled it along the carpet 
to a position just before them.  She departed again, returning 
this time with the BB rifle under one arm and a quart-sized 
bottle in the other hand.  She set the bottle on the cart, leaned 
the rifle against it and placed Calhoun's favorite straight chair 
beside it.  She took her seat, opened a drawer in the cart and 
removed a clear glass tumbler, clipboard and pen, laying each 
upon the top surface of the cart.  Unscrewing the bottle top, she 
nearly filled the tumbler with a brown liquid.  She put it to her 
lips and took a large mouthful.

When she had swallowed, she raised the tumbler toward them.  
"Want a drink?"

Paul licked his lips.  Jenny asked, "What is it?"

"Prune juice."  The woman got to her feet, went to Jenny and held 
the tumbler to her lips.  Jenny took a breath, then drank several 
swallows.  The woman crossed to Paul.  He finished the glass.

Amy returned to her seat and refilled the tumbler before taking 
up clipboard and pen.  "I shall now resume the collection of 
information that was so rudely interrupted yesterday.  Today --"

"By the way," Paul interrupted.  "How's your neck?"

Her eyes glinted at him.  "That's the last impertinence I'll 
permit, sir.  I'll shoot you for the next one, and I warn you: at 
this range BBs break the skin.  As for my neck, take a look."

She tilted her face back.  Blue marks, already fading to yellow, 
were prominent on the front of the neck.  She lowered her head, 
adding, "I show you this to impress on you how poorly I'll 
tolerate anything less than your full cooperation.  As I was 
about to say, yesterday I wanted your measurements.  Today I want 
your history.  I'll begin with you, Miss Deep Pussy."

She took a pull from her prune juice and asked, "Did you have any 
siblings?"

"No," said Jenny promptly.

"Really!  An only child, eh?  Were you raised by both parents?"

Jenny hesitated.  At last she said, "Not really.  My father and 
mother divorced when I was six.  I lived with my mother."

The woman nodded.  "That agrees with your records.  Did you 
hesitate, debating whether to tell me a lie?  I warn you, if I 
catch you in a lie, I'll make your nipples bleed."

She made a notation on her pad.  "At what age did you begin 
menstruation?"

"Thirteen."

"When did you begin to masturbate?"

"Hmm.  Also thirteen."

"How did you learn to do it?"

"From changing my pads."

Amy scribbled.  "At what age did you surrender your virginity?"

"Ah, eighteen."

"That old!  Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Who took it from you?"

"Huh?  Oh.  Boys at a party.  I got drunk and they took advantage 
of me."

"Indeed!  At eighteen, you say?"

"Yes, eighteen."

"Then how is it that your mother filled a prescription in your 
name for contraceptive pills when you were fifteen?"

"She what?"

Amy put down her clipboard and raised the rifle.  "Your 
explanation please?"

"But she _couldn't_ have!  I never took those pills until I was 
eighteen."

"After you were raped at a party."

Jenny dropped eyes and voice.  "It wasn't rape."

"How many boys?"

"I don't know.  Maybe half a dozen.  Maybe everyone who was 
there.  I was very sore.  No one would ever tell me, but they all 
laughed."

The rifle was lowered in favor of the clipboard.  Amy scribbled 
furiously.

"Have you ever been pregnant?"

"Yes.  I had an abortion."

"You weren't married?"

"It happened at that same party."

"Are you fertile now?"

"I'm taking contraceptives.  That is, I was."

"With how many different men have you had sexual relations?"

"I ... don't know."

"More than ten?"

"Yes."

"More than 40?"

"P-probably."

"More than 100?"

"I ... don't think so."

"Maybe 70?"

"It could be."

"Were you paid to service most of those men?"

"Yes."

"And I already know by whom.  Do you enjoy sex, Ms. Collier?"

"Sometimes."

"With the men you are paid to service?"

"Sometimes."

"What does it depend on?"

"I've thought about that.  I think mainly it depends on him 
wanting me to enjoy it."

"Yes, it would, wouldn't it?  How about Lesbian sex?"

"I have done it."

"For pay?"

"No, not unless you count making a movie."

"I've seen your movie."  The woman turned her chair, taking 
another drink from the tumbler.  "What about you, Mr. Lanning: 
any siblings?"

"Yes, an older brother."

"No sister?"

"None."

"And did your parents raise you together?"

"Yes."

"When did you first have an erection?"

"Eh?  I have no idea.  As a child I always had one upon 
awakening."

"With a full bladder?"

"Yes."

"At what age did you first ejaculate?"

"Twelve."

"At what age did you begin to masturbate?"

"Eleven."

"Before you could ejaculate?"

"Yes."

"Was the sensation stronger before or after?"

"I've debated that.  To my judgment it was about the same except 
for the mess."

"Yes, 'the mess!'  How did you learn it?"

"To masturbate?  Another boy showed me."

"Typical.  At what age did you first have sexual relations?"

"Ah, ... 14.

"Who was she?"

"I'm sorry.  I mean 17.  She was my friend's little sister."

"How old was she?"

"Um.  I believe 14."

"Her name?"

"I don't ...  Janey Summerton."

Amy scribbled briefly and again traded clipboard for rifle.  
Swish-flack!  She pointed it at his genitals.  "Whom did you fuck 
at 14?"

"Uh, ah, n-nobody!  That was just a slip of the tongue.  Janey 
was my first.  _She_ was 14!"

"I don't believe you.  One last chance: whom did you fuck at 14?"

"Nobody!  Please!  The only thing ..."

"Go on."

He dropped his head.  "The only thing I did at 14 was to 
masturbate into my mother's panties."

"I think you're lying, but ..."  She chuckled.  "I wish my son 
had fucked _my_ panties first!  You get a good mark for 
cuteness."  The terrible little rifle was returned against the 
cart, and she scribbled on the clipboard.

"And now, dear sir, I shall take yesterday's interrupted 
measurement."

She fetched her steel measuring tape from the cart drawer, pulled 
the chair around in front of Paul and sat in it, cocking her head 
back to look into his eyes.  She grinned at him and opened her 
mouth wider.  Her tongue pushed first the upper then the lower 
denture plate into her hand.  She slipped them into the pocket of 
her robe.

She asked, "Ith thith whash you wanted, thir?"

Her mouth closed on him tightly.  Her head began to bob forward 
and back.  On each withdrawal the compression of her gums behind 
the glans was enough to stretch the flaccid tissue almost 
comically.  The organ grew quickly to full erection.  She removed 
her mouth, exhibiting the whole penis distinctly reddened, and 
applied her measuring tape.  "Hmph!" she snorted.  The mouth 
returned but limited its scope to the swollen knob while her hand 
pumped the loose skin vigorously.  Before long she withdrew again 
in favor of the measuring rule while white streaks of seminal 
fluid fell on the shoulder of her gown.

With teeth restored she crowed, "It's a half inch longer when 
it's coming!"  She licked a white smear off her upper lip and 
added, "I always thought so."

Apparently she had gathered information sufficient for that 
session.  She departed with her props, leaving her victims 
standing erect.

"I've been curious about that," observed Jenny.  "Were you lying 
or did some old woman suck you off?"

"Clio."

"Huh?  Your secretary?  She had false teeth?"

"Yes.  I don't know if I ought to tell you.  She claimed that 
sucking off the boss was a secretary's principal duty.  She was 
always after me but I wouldn't let her touch me for ages.  Then 
one day she went down on me with her teeth out.  She did it 
nearly every morning after that.  Except I think we only lasted 
about another week."

"You mean it feels good?"

"It sure does, when done right.  The gums can apply more 
pressure.  Huh!  They can apply too much more.  I thought our 
sweet Calhoun bitch would squeeze my dick off."

"Poor fellow."

"Thanks."

A bit later he noted, "You didn't tell her about your brother."

"No, I didn't."  Jenny laughed.  "I handed her a load of bull all 
around.  But you're the one who nearly got his balls shot up.  
Who _did_ you fuck at 14?"

"My brother, but I didn't dare tell her that!"



NEXT:  Chapter 28: Commitments
Varangian:  ludmax11@hotmail.com
Kellis:     kellis@dhp.com

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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