index


Message-ID: <29258asstr$983844603@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII
Subject: {ASSM} The Innocent Fugitives Ch29 {Varkel} MF MF bd sad tort oral snuff inter WM BF
Date: Mon,  5 Mar 2001 21:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

The Innocent Fugitives
a Novel by Varkel
Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel



Chapter 29:  Ruth



They were both asleep, hanging in their chains, when the cold 
water struck Jenny.  She started awake, screaming, which woke 
Paul.  Thus he was expecting the shock when the cackling Amy 
turned the hose upon him.  But their endurance of the stream was 
brief; their tormentress clearly meant most of it for the bloody 
floor.  She also washed Harvey's legs and feet.  His body swayed 
from the direct force of the water but otherwise hung passively.

The old woman turned off the water and retreated to the control 
desk, where she pressed a button that played out Paul's chains.  
When the clanking ceased, she pointed to a pair of scrub brushes 
that she had left on the edge of the carpet.  "Mr. Lanning, would 
you please be so kind as to get down on your hands and knees, 
take those brushes and scrub the tile?  If you will condescend to 
do us that slight favor, I'll provide the water to assist you."

After a glance at her nearby BB rifle, he of course condescended.  
Some of Harvey's blood had begun to scab on the tiles; Paul had 
to admit silently that the scrubbing was necessary.  He yelped 
only once, when having turned his back to Amy, she applied the 
powerful stream to his testicles and anus.  Her laughter sounded 
above the rushing water.

With the blood removed save a few fresh drops from Harvey, she 
restored the hose to its cubby and standing well away from the 
maximum play of Paul's chains, raised the rifle.  "Mr. Lanning, 
now will you please throw those brushes gently out here where I 
can reach them?"

He tossed them underhanded to land on the carpet near her.  
Swish-flack-pow!  He flinched but it was Jenny who cried out, 
"Oh, god, my side!"  She writhed, causing a brief rattle of 
chains.

With a quizzical grin Amy returned Paul's stare.  "Aren't you 
going to ask why I shot her this time?"

He took a deep breath.  "Why did you shoot Jenny this time?"

"Because you had to do all the work.  It's only fair for her to 
suffer a bit, too.  Besides, what good are women except to hurt?"

Paul shook his head, jerking it toward the silently hanging body.  
"What about him?"

"Yes, I could make you take him down from there, but Slim has to 
haul the carcass away.  Might as well let him hang.  He won't 
disturb your nap."  She smiled.  "Besides, here's an opportunity 
for you.  Ever wonder what it's like to fuck a dead man?  I'm 
told the Turks used to love it."

Laughing, she turned, pressed the preset that loosened Jenny's 
chains equivalently, gathered up the brushes and swept out of the 
room.  The chains were still playing out when she returned long 
enough to extinguish the lights.


* * *


"You want a grown up girl, don't you, Barry?  You're getting 
tired of me."

Bobbie sat naked on the bed with slender legs folded beneath her.  
Sonnenschein, likewise naked, gazed out the window.  They had 
just indulged each other for the second time that afternoon.  He 
sighed and frowned internally at the accuracy of her judgment.  
Indeed his infatuation with her immature beauty was fading 
rapidly now.  He had for the first time enjoyed full access to 
the body of a young girl willing to execute all the non-painful 
perversions that he could imagine.  He was surprised at his 
almost instant sense of repletion.  At least he was proving not 
so obsessed as he had feared.   Increasingly fearful of the 
consequences latent to such an illegal, unprofessional and tawdry 
little affair, he wanted to end it but felt trapped by a sense of 
obligation toward this child whose apparent innocence still made 
his heart ache.

He turned to her.  "You're precious to me, sweetheart, but you 
know we really don't have a future together."

She thought a moment and retorted precociously, "_You_ have a 
future to worry about, Barry, but I don't.  No one cares about me 
at that prison."

"It's a hospital, Bobbie, and I care about you.  But it's true 
that you have fallen into some kind of limbo.  You could just 
disappear and no one would become upset, except they'd have to 
inform the police.  But the cops wouldn't spend any time looking 
for a runaway girl."

"Alice would miss me."

"Yes, of course she would, as much as I.  But we need to find a 
safe place for you."

"Maybe I should run away," the girl mused.

Sonnenschein was aghast at the idea.  Bobbie would not get five 
blocks from the hospital before being captured by a pimp.  
Feeling desperate for her, he demanded, "Don't you have any 
friends at all?"

"There's Tom," she replied wistfully.  "I really like him the 
best, but he has a girl his own age now."

"I'll think of something, Bobbie.  I'll find a solution for you, 
but you must promise not to run away."

"I promise, Barry, at least for a while.  What I really want is 
to go home to Jenny and Paul, although I don't know how you can 
fix that."

"Trust me, darling.  I'll do what I can."


* * *


Ruth even went so far as to rent a car and follow him as he left 
his office in the police station at suppertime, the normal end of 
his day.  She had taken such a drastic step because he had 
developed an unexplained habit of arriving at her apartment late 
in the evening.  His new consistency generated much anxious 
speculation in her mind about the nature of his distraction and 
the long-term effect on their relationship.  In fact Ruth, though 
a woman of unsurpassed self-confidence in matters of strength, 
endurance and physical skills, possessed no confidence at all in 
her ability to attract and hold a man.  Now this man had come 
into her life and taken it over.  By transporting her regularly 
to a sexual paradise of overwhelming ecstasy, in comparison to 
which everything else was drab and pointless, he had made his 
attention and gratification her sole reason to exist.

She could not stand to live without knowing generally where he 
was at every hour of the day or night, especially each night from 
six to nine P.M.  His responses to her indirect questions about 
it were evasive.  She thought of hiring a detective but squirmed 
at the idea of explaining her purpose to some stranger who would 
surely wonder what the handsome police lieutenant could possibly 
see in her anyway.  She resolved to investigate him herself.  She 
had rented a car because he was certain to recognize hers sooner 
or later.

She parked in the lot where he kept his disreputable clunker.  
Promptly at 6:10 he appeared to trade cars.  She followed him 
from there to ... of all places, a Fastburger restaurant, where 
she watched the drive-in attendant serve him two large bags of 
food to go.  She shook her head: tonight was not typical, then.  
John always arrived at her place hungry.

But he left the restaurant and drove directly to his warehouse on 
Harget Street.  She saw him take the bags of food into the 
building.  She waited.  He emerged empty handed at 8:15 and 
started out in the direction of his midpoint parking lot.

She peeled off, driving directly home.  She was waiting for him 
in the sheer negligee he preferred when he arrived at 8:45.  To 
her surprise he professed a wolf-like hunger.  She warmed the 
full meal she had already prepared and indeed he ate every crumb.

She already knew that the electricity, water and gas were turned 
on at his warehouse, as they had been for 15 years.  So how many 
people did he support there?  As his body raised hers to heaven, 
her last coherent thought was to wonder how many of them were 
nubile females.


* * *


"Ms. Griswold said you were prompt in returning Bobbie 
yesterday."  Alice looked intently at Sonnenschein, who lounged 
against the counter of the nurses' station.

"I'm always prompt," he responded absently as he leafed through a 
chart.

"She also said the girl reeked of sex."

Sonnenschein put down the chart and glanced nervously at the 
large black woman.  "She refused to take a shower.  You know how 
it is with kids that age."

"Barry, just listen to yourself!  The reason she smelled is 
because you fucked her.  How many times, Barry?  How many times 
did you fuck that child?"

"Is that a rhetorical question or an expression of prurient 
interest?" he responded rather stiffly.

"I know I'm at fault too," she admitted ruefully.  "I'm the one 
who set her up for you."

"It didn't require much of a set up, Alice, just a secure place 
to be alone with her.  You can't imagine how eager she is."

"I have more than a good idea about that, Dr. Sonnenschein.  When 
I first met the girl and showed her the least bit of sympathy and 
understanding, she wriggled to me and fondled my breast."

"She's insatiable, Alice, and I'm convinced that her need is 
purely physical.  Actually she's very _un_-childlike.  She 
doesn't want any cuddling or loving, just fucking."

"How many times does she want it in your typical meeting, Barry?  
You see I'm indeed interested in the gory details."

"Three or four."

"That's all?  I'm surprised.  You look like a guy who could go 
all night."

He stared at her with a whimsical smile.  "What in the world gave 
you that impression?"

"Your earnest manner, maybe.  Is she a screamer?"

"Not really, although she _is_ loud.  The noise starts almost 
from the start and spikes at orgasm."

"So, Doctor, you are realizing a life-long perversion, or have 
you enjoyed a child before?"

"No.  She is my first and I believe my last.  It was really 
exciting at the beginning, you know, playing with her young body.  
But I'm getting bored with the entire business.  She has no 
conversation beyond her sexual experiences, which aside from the 
age differences are incredibly banal.  She's just a kid, after 
all, and a selfish one at that."

"May I understand that you've played out all the standard 
variations with her?"

"All the standard perversions, you mean.  Oh, yes.  I think we 
did all that the first time she came to my place."

"No mystery left, right?"

He shook his head.  "Who could expect depth in a twelve year old?  
Without it there can be no mystery."

"Then how could she seduce you so easily?"

He sighed.  "I've thought about that.  I think I understand it 
now.  I don't think I'll be so susceptible again.  It may be that 
Bobbie has inoculated me against such weakness, and if so that 
may cause a profound change in my life.  I think I'm a man who 
needs a woman to idealize.  Perhaps 'idolize' is the better 
word."

"What you need, Barry, is a 'real' woman, someone who can light 
your fire.  I know how it is to get tired of playing with dolls."

"You've had a girl?"

"No."  She smiled fondly and looked at a distant wall.  "It was a 
beautiful, coffee colored boy with an enormous cock.  He was 
twelve and I was eighteen."  She paused and added, "Have you ever 
had a boy?"

"I've been tempted a couple of times, but no, I never have."

She placed her hand atop his.  "Do you prefer slight, blonde 
women, Barry?  Have you ever been with someone more, uh, exotic?"

He grinned at her.  "Like you, maybe?"

"Yes, just like me," she retorted testily.  "A large black woman 
with a heavy Negroid face."

"You might be disappointed, Alice," he said with a playful tilt 
of his head.  "I'm not all that well endowed.  Even Bobbie 
commented on it."

"Don't taunt me, Barry!  Can't you see that I've already 
embarrassed myself?"

"You are serious, aren't you?"

She glowered at him.  "Maybe you do prefer European women."

"I like gentle, sincere woman of whatever kind," he responded 
with slow deliberation, squeezing her hand.

"I could mother you, boy.  I really could."  Her voice was heavy 
with feeling.

"Yes."  He stared intently at her large face, suddenly finding it 
handsome.  "Yes, I would like that."


* * *


"You certainly can't afford this on a resident's salary," Alice 
remarked a moment after entering Sonnenschein's luxurious 
apartment.  "Your family has money?"

He nodded absently and took her coat, which he hung in a closet 
near the front door.

She went into the kitchen to inspect the contents of the 
refrigerator and the larder.

"You appear to be well stocked.  We won't have to go shopping," 
she remarked as she returned to the front room and stood very 
close before him.  She wanted a kiss, but he was not yet ready 
for such intimacy.

"Are my lips too fat, Barry?  Are they too foreign for you?"

"You're a dear friend, Alice.  There's nothing foreign about 
you," he replied and placed his arms lightly around her waist.  
She was taller, heavier and stronger than he, he could tell from 
that slight embrace.

"It's awkward, I know, breaking the ice," she murmured softly, 
kissing his cheek.  "Let me take charge at first."

Sonnenschein stood dumbly in the center of the living room and 
allowed the woman to undress him slowly, playfully.

"We'll take a shower, baby, and I'll show you what magic these 
fat lips of mine can work."  She stared up at him from her 
kneeling position, hands on his underpants.  "Well," she 
exclaimed, pulling them down to reveal his erection, "you have 
nothing to be bashful about.  This will suit me just fine."

"Not up to your coffee boy's standard, though, is it?"

She shook her head.  "Doctor, you certainly know how a woman is 
made."  She touched the top of his shaft, at the point where it 
emerged from the hairy pubic pad.  "This is the part of a man 
that really matters to her, if he knows to time it right.  She 
doesn't need something to stretch her out.  Such a big one is 
more often a distraction than an advantage."

"Alice, you are marvelous."  His eyes twinkled.  "And I know what 
you mean about the timing."  Her comment had put him entirely at 
ease.  He did not feel the least bit embarrassed standing naked 
in front of her as she took off her own clothes deliberately.  
She was indeed large, he noted, though not at all fat, despite 
the softness of her belly.  Her limbs were impressive, the thighs 
seemingly capable of crushing his ribs.  Her firm breasts, not 
quite enormous, had huge, brown areolas and large, rigid nipples.  
She was a dark Earth goddess, he thought, his excitement rising.

"Should we take a shower, darling, or are you too eager?" she 
asked, startling him from his reverie.

"You're absolutely magnificent, Alice!" he gasped.

"Thank you, sir.  But I think we should bathe, because I can 
smell myself."

"I love your aroma," he objected and took her tightly into his 
arms to feel her awesome heft.

"Perhaps so, but _I_ don't love it!"  She broke from his arms and 
pulled him toward the bathroom.

They crowded together in the small shower stall, giggling, 
competing for the warmth of the spray.

"Now I have you, Barry," she exclaimed in triumph.  "I've been 
wanting this since I first saw you at the hospital.  Kiss me and 
then I'll do something special for you."

Her mouth overwhelmed his, although he sought to do his part.  
Then she slowly went to her knees, kissing down his body.  He 
knew what to expect, but he was unprepared for the reality of it.  
His cock was no match for her large mouth and generous lips that 
she easily pursed around his shaft.

"Oh, Christ!" he exclaimed in physical rapture.

Alice seemed to hum as she effortlessly sucked his cock to a 
quick, knee-buckling climax, her hands on his thighs holding him 
upright.  She stood after a brief moment, grinned a mouth full of 
semen at him and washed it down with the shower spray in her 
face.

"Now it's time for baby's nap," she cooed, turning off the 
shower.  "And when you're refreshed, you can take charge."

Still moist, they went into the bedroom and lay upon the bed.  
Sonnenschein was indeed tired after his long shift at the 
hospital and the recent, energy draining orgasm.  He quickly fell 
asleep in Alice's arms, his mouth on the end of a tit.  She 
smiled, holding him against her rich body, and shivered at the 
beginning of a dream's fulfillment.


* * *


Bright sun shone through the bedroom window, belying the frigid 
Winter day outside.  Alice lay on her side, her dark brown thigh 
and hip rising as a hill beside Sonnenschein, who awoke and 
marveled at the sight.  His caressing hand brought the woman 
awake.  She turned to face him.

"Hi," she said sweetly, her brown eyes sparkling.

He took her into his arms and kissed her chin and large lips with 
sincere affection.

"Are you noisy?" he asked as he sucked on an ear lobe and fondled 
a massive breast.

"I might scare the neighbors, Barry, if you do me right."  She 
squirmed as his hand found her wild pubic bush.

"There's no one to hear you at this time of day, sweetheart."  
His finger touched a hooded clit of amazing size.

She gasped, pushing his head lower.  "I'm not dainty, not like 
Bobbie.  Do you mind?"

He did not answer, but scurried toward the foot of the bed, eager 
to chew on that incredible clitoris.

"I'll sing for you darling," she groaned as he kissed up her 
thigh and pushed his face into her hairy mound.  She emitted a 
small scream when he took the appendage between his lips and 
sucked it none too delicately.

"Oh, god, oh, my god!" she yelled aloud and squeezed his head 
with muscular thighs.  "Please stop!" she cried, pulling his 
hair.

He slipped between her upraised knees and penetrated her with a 
single, accurate thrust.  His tongue found hers.  They kissed, 
bodies heaving for long minutes.  Her sounds became increasingly 
shrill.  He watched in fascination as her face recorded the onset 
of orgasm.  Her eyes clenched shut and her lips curled to reveal 
pearly teeth.  Her head flailed back and forth as something deep 
inside her began to snap at the end of his member.  She screamed 
and her body went rigid for a few seconds, only to resume their 
counterpoint to his thrusts with greater urgency.  Her second 
orgasm was almost convulsive, and were he not himself in the 
midst of one, he would have felt a painful squeezing of her limbs 
on his smaller body to accompany the thunderous shouts in his 
ear.

"I wish you were a black man," she sighed a few minutes later, 
after they had recovered some measure of calm.  "Then I would 
have a chance with you."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she pressed fingers against his 
lips.

"You don't have to say anything, darling.  I know how it is.  
Actually I'm luckier than most educated women like me, who are 
too black, too Negroid.  My mommy found me a man to marry, even 
though he's over fifty and smaller than you.  He's a dentist, a 
widower with two grown kids."

"You say you feel lucky about that?" Sonnenschein asked in 
astonishment.

"Sure.  He's still young enough to give me babies, and he doesn't 
drink.  The only bad thing about it is that I'll have to go to 
his church."

"If that's what you want, sweetheart, I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, Dr. Sonnenschein.  And if you like we could still 
meet, you know, until it becomes official.  Then I intend to be a 
good wife."

"I'd love to spend the rest of the weekend in bed with you, 
Alice, but I'm supposed to see Bobbie tomorrow afternoon."

"I thought you were bored with that girl!"

"Perhaps not entirely bored, but I would like to find a way to 
get her out of the hospital and into a home."

"And for that you need to see her here alone?"

"No, not at all.  Please stay.  Maybe you can help us work 
something out."


* * *


Calhoun removed the corpse, leaving his prisoners alone to eat 
their meals.  Somewhere a heavy motor started up.  It ran only a 
short time.  When the big man returned, he grinned at them.  "I 
wondered what effect Harvey's demise would have on your 
appetites, but clearly a sharp hunger is proof against anything.  
We Americans eat too much, don't we?  Someday I must research how 
we decided to eat three meals a day."

When they had been hauled erect and the clanking of chains 
ceased, Paul took a chance.  He asked, "Was that engine we heard 
for Harvey?"

But Calhoun was in a cheerful mood.  As he uncoiled the hose, he 
explained, "It's most gratifying how finely an industrial rock 
crusher reduces a human body: tendons, bones, teeth, everything.  
It even has a built-in water spray to clean itself up.  Believe 
me, nothing is left that might clog the sewer.  I suppose a 
forensic DNA examination would reveal Harvey's molecular residue, 
if anyone had some of his DNA to compare, that is."

Jenny noted, "Your mother has some."

"Yes."  Calhoun frowned thoughtfully, then smiled.  "But only we 
four know that.  We won't tell, will we?"  The water lashed out 
and struck Jenny in the mouth.

Their baths, enemas and douche seemed almost pro-forma tonight.  
When Calhoun had restored the hose, he turned, hit a few buttons 
on the control desk and left the room as their chains were 
playing out.  They waited, but no one reappeared.  Soon they 
slept in each other's arms despite the bright lights.

Their next visitor was Amy.  She erected them, set two soda cans 
within reach and reloosened the chains.  She departed without 
saying a word.

It seemed to them that a great many hours had passed.  Their 
throats were very dry; the drinks were wonderfully cool, wet and 
sweet.  They tried to savor them.  Though thirst was assuaged, 
hunger was only intensified.

"What happened to Calhoun?" groused Paul.  "It's been more than a 
day since he fed us, don't you think?"

Jenny chuckled sourly.  "And since our last enemas.  Do you think 
we can still defecate without them?"

"Huh!  I don't think we'll have anything to pass!"

After interminable hours Amy appeared again with cans of drinks.  
This time she tightened their chains and poured the beverage into 
their mouths herself, careless that it should spill down their 
bodies.  Deciding that she was deliberately trying to strangle 
Jenny, Paul asked as a distraction, "Has anything happened to Lt. 
Calhoun?"

She turned a baleful eye upon him and snarled, "He's fucking that 
whore of his nowadays.  What's the matter, you getting hungry?"

Paul sighed, wondering how thin was the ice upon which he 
proposed to tread.  "Yes, we are.  How long has it been?"

"Since you ate?  Three and a half days ago."

"My god!  I didn't think it was _that_ long!"

She sniffed.  "That's how long it's been.  He and I had a fight 
because of Harvey's moldy cock.  He's letting me stew for a 
while.  But don't worry.  We've had fights before.  He'll come 
crawling back in a week or two."  She set Jenny's drink on the 
tile and stood before Paul, lifting his penis between her thumb 
and forefinger.  "For this thing.  He says there's something 
special about it.  Damned if I can see it.  Looks like any other 
tiny little cock to me."

Jenny suggested, "You have to make it hard."

"I've done that, in case you forgot."

"Then you must put it where it's meant to go."

"Huh!  That spot is reserved."

Jenny's eyes narrowed.  "Paul's clean, you know.  No disease, and 
you're past menopause, aren't you?"

"That's none of your ...  You mean he didn't fuck Harvey?"

"No, he didn't."

She set down both cans, paused at the desk to loosen their chains 
and left the room.

As he savored his drink, Paul asked, "Why are you pimping me for 
Amy?"

Jenny sniffed.  "Why indeed!  From the way she treats us both she 
already favors you: she's only shot you twice!  If we can get her 
hooked on you, it may give her a reason to keep you alive."

"That's a nice thought, sweetie.  Do you propose to test Hannah's 
idea that I have a 'perfect dick?'  You didn't buy that, did 
you?"

"I think it depends on how the cervix lies in any particular 
woman.  But, yes, your deepest thrusts feel good to me, too."

"Did you ever tell me that before?"

She grinned.  "Maybe not in words."

He sobered.  "My dear, you're the one who seems to be on the 
short end of the stick."

She chuckled sarcastically.  "You've noticed!  Different from 
Florida, eh?"

"I didn't complain."

"You did to Bobbie."

"Not really.  It's just that she's almost telepathic about sexual 
feelings.  I wonder what happened to her."

"Ask the lieutenant the next time he reams your anus."

"You know, I'm beginning to wonder if there'll be a next time."


* * *


Ruth realized that John's habits had changed again.  Now he came 
straight home to supper.  When did he feed his warehouse family 
these days, in the morning?  For two mornings she followed him, 
renting a different car each time.  He went straight to work.  
For a morning and an afternoon she waited in the parking lot near 
his clunker.  He never showed.

Presumably the warehouse family had moved elsewhere -- or _been_ 
moved!  Were they children too young to provide their own food?  
Or elderly?  Or fugitives?  John was a policeman's idea of what a 
policeman should be; she could hardly conceive of him harboring 
fugitives.  But why the disguised ownership, both of warehouse 
and automobile, also registered to Silas Miller?  Perhaps now was 
a good time to answer some of those questions, at least to find 
out what John had been doing in that warehouse until three days 
ago.

On the fourth morning she waited an hour after his departure and 
drove to the parking lot.  The clunker sat there, her chalk mark 
of yesterday undisturbed on the tread of the right front tire.  
She took a deep breath, left the parking lot and turned in the 
direction of the warehouse.


* * *


A rich smell of cooked food woke them.  The lights were already 
on.  Amy stood at the control deck, her box cart beside her, the 
BB rifle under one arm.  She pressed buttons and their chains 
began to clank.  Something predominantly yellow was on the cart's 
flat upper surface.  Eggs?  Could it actually be scrambled eggs 
and bacon?  Paul's dry mouth was suddenly flooded with saliva.

When they were fully erected, she pushed the cart close and set 
two platters off it onto the tile.  Her prisoners' eyes popped.  
Indeed the plates were heaped with scrambled eggs and strips of 
bacon.  She added two frost-beaded cans of cola.

Paul swallowed.  "You cooked this?"

"I did," she answered, returning herself and cart to the control 
desk.

Their chains began to play out.  As soon as they could reach the 
food, their eager hands brought it to their mouths.

The woman sat in the straight chair and watched their voracious 
consumption, chuckling occasionally.  "I regret the lack of 
civilized service, particularly silverware, but I'm sure you 
understand the inadvisability of it, and clearly neither of you 
finds its lack to be an impediment...  That's right, lick up the 
last crumbs.  No one will slap your hand."  She laughed.  "You 
may have an arm stuck up your ass, but your hands are safe."

When the platters were clean, she again tightened their chains.  
Gathering up the plates and cans, she observed, "You may be 
interested to know that together you've eaten ten eggs and nearly 
half a pound of bacon."  She smiled.  "What shall I tell the 
chef?"

"Please give him our compliments," Paul responded dryly, followed 
by an explosive burp.

"Indeed!" she laughed.  She took out the water hose and "bathed" 
them, clearing the grease and food particles from faces, chests 
and hands, but omitting inversions, enemas and douche.  As she 
restored the hose, she said over her shoulder, "I'll leave you to 
digest your food for an hour or so, then we'll have some fun."

When she closed the door, Paul sighed.  "God, I'm stuffed!"

"Feast or famine," agreed Jenny, duplicating his earlier burp.

"I guess our assholes are due for another stretching."

Jenny grinned.  "Not necessarily.  She may have been considering 
my advice."

"You think so?"

"She said '_We'll_ have some fun.'  'We' doesn't have to mean 
three, you know."

Nor did it.  When Amy reappeared sometime later, she paused to 
increase Paul's chain tension, drawing him almost uncomfortably 
straight, then came to stand before him.  She smiled and her hand 
rose to stroke his fledgling beard.  "How do you feel, sweetie?"

"Still rather full," he admitted.

"Aside from that?"

He managed a chuckle.  "Aside from being a chained-up prisoner 
with less freedom than a bull in a slaughterhouse, oh, I feel 
great."

"Freedom's not everything.  I'll make you feel better in just a 
moment."  Her hand dropped to his genitals.  She caressed them 
thoroughly.  Sinking to one knee, she took his flaccid organ into 
her mouth.  Her head bobbed forward and back.  One hand clasped 
the testicles while the other stroked his lower belly, fingertip 
probing the navel.

After a bit she drew back, exposing the glistening shaft now 
fully erect.  Her fingers worked the skin of the glans, 
compressing the corona top.  "This may be what Slim meant," she 
mused.  "It's thicker here even than his."  She grinned up at 
Paul.  "Now I am curious."  She got to her feet, turned and left 
the room.

"You were right," he said.

"Maybe."  Jenny shivered.  "But I'm afraid I did you no favor."

"Well, of course I'd rather it was _you_ than --"

"That's not what I mean.  Did you notice her expression when she 
sliced up Harvey?"

"_I_ was watching the razor!  What about it?"

"She had the same look just now when she handled you."

Paul gulped.

In a moment Amy returned with a rolled up pad of foam rubber 
under her arm.  She pushed the cart close to the tile and 
unrolled the pad lengthwise across the rim between carpet and 
tile, so that about half of it was on each.  It was large enough 
to make a foam mattress for a child's bed.

She frowned.  "You sure lose a hard-on fast!"  She scooted the 
foot of the pad closer to him and bent again to his rejuvenation.  
Finally successful, she rose and went to the control desk.  For 
the first time Paul found himself pitching forward, head rotating 
downward towards the carpet while feet rose toward the rear of 
the alcove.  The top of the semi-circular sliprings curved out 
and downward from the ceiling.  When the grinding motors stopped, 
he hung uncomfortably face down, sagging slightly from arms and 
legs now stretched back and above his body.  His softening penis 
was easily the lowest part of his body, a good three feet above 
the foam pad, now aligned below him.

His chains began to play out, lowering him to the pad.  At the 
control desk, Amy bent low, her face nearly to the floor, one arm 
upraised to the buttons.  She stopped the motors just before his 
penis tip touched the pad.  His back was arched, head well above 
the pad, tilted back wide-eyed to watch her.

She threw her robe over a chair and drew near, naked and 
chuckling.  "Didn't know it could do that, sweetie?  Well, don't 
feel bad.  It doesn't do it very often...  You actually have 
quite a bit of slack.  Bounce yourself with your arms and legs.  
Go ahead.  I want you to see what I mean."

He found that he could raise and lower himself more than a foot 
by flexing elbows, knees and back, but bouncing was painful at 
wrists and ankles.  She watched his experiments with a slight 
smile, then aligned the pad exactly beneath him.

"Draw yourself up," she ordered, lying on her side with her back 
to him.  He complied by straightening his joints, and she rolled 
under him, her back flat on the pad.  She spread her legs and 
smiled.  "Okay, sweetie.  Relax yourself onto me."

As he sagged upon her, her hand moved between them and she 
laughed.  "You _do_ lose it fast, don't you!"  She worked the 
soft flesh between fingers and labia.  "Think about this: you're 
about to get your first strange piece in a long time.  As the 
Chinese are said to tell their women, 'Relax and enjoy it.'"

Her hand jiggled.  She continued in tones of sympathy, "Aw, 
sweetie, are you worried about something?  Well, you shouldn't 
be.  When it's firmly in my pussy, your cock is as safe as it has 
ever been...  Now, that's better.  See, you only had to think 
positive thoughts.  Come on, sweetie, fuck me good!"

His chains began by tinkling.  When the woman's hips began to 
roll, however, he soon caused them to rattle rhythmically.  Jenny 
shook her head, watching the spectacle at her feet.  Paul was 
obviously developing enthusiasm for his work -- for this evil 
woman.  She supposed that she should hardly be surprised.  This 
was simply male nature.  She had yet to meet a male who wouldn't 
poke a padded knothole in a fence if otherwise deprived and if he 
thought no one would laugh at him afterwards.  She sniffed: 
strike the "padded."

The woman was looking up at Jenny past Paul's shoulder.  She said 
something unintelligible in the rattle of chains, then her eyes 
literally rolled up in her head, revealing only bloodshot whites.  
Her arms enwrapped the man's chest and her heels hooked 
themselves on his straining calves.  Her hips heaved fiercely in 
the classically female roll that presses clitoris into pubis at 
the bottom of the man's stroke.  Her mouth opened to emit a 
ragged contralto moan.  Suddenly her body stiffened and she 
screamed, but the man continued to drive.

Jenny was surprised at Paul's stamina.  They had not indulged 
each other since shortly after Calhoun's last visit, when the big 
man's expected carnal abuse had failed to occur.  But Paul 
continued to plunge atop the mewling woman, now straining to him 
harder than ever, short-nailed fingers leaving bloodless streaks 
on his sweating back.  In her cool detachment Jenny observed that 
even the dominant woman must surrender to subjugation if she 
would reach the ultimate ecstasy, as apparently this vicious old 
woman below them was approaching.

Both lovers were screaming in unison now between gasps for 
breath.  Paul's chains ceased to jerk and rattle as both bodies 
stiffened.  Shortly he simply slumped.  The woman's arms and legs 
released him.  She lay panting for a moment before heaving 
herself out from under him and rolling over onto her belly.  She 
got shakily to her knees and crawled off the tile to fall on her 
side on the carpet, leaving a few white seminal drops to mark her 
passage.

She lay still, aside from panting breath.  Jenny thought of 
asking her to relieve the strain on Paul's wrists and ankles, but 
the man simply hung without complaining.  As she watched, a last 
string of semen dripped from his dangling penis to the foam pad, 
only partly dislodged by Amy's exit.

The old woman sat up, her breasts bouncing.  She looked at Jenny 
and muttered reverently, "Good god!"

Jenny asked sweetly, "Did you find it special, too?"

"It ... catches the cervix, doesn't it?"

"That may depend on the cervix."

Slowly Amy nodded.  "Yes, I agree, which could explain why Beth 
didn't find him more important to her."

"You knew the late Mrs. Lanning?"

"Oh, no; for obvious reasons outsiders aren't allowed in here.  
But I've seen her picture.  She was a beautiful woman.  And Slim 
spoke of her often.  Her absolute complaisance pleased him, 
though I warned him that such women are notorious betrayers."

"Yet he killed her."

"Didn't he tell you?  She was about to reveal his identity to the 
newspapers.  He had the choice of persuading her that such a 
story would wreak greater harm on him than she could imagine, 
which of course would have been the most foolish mistake he could 
ever make, or of killing her.  I assure you, he agonized over 
that choice.  My son is not a bad man, you know."

Jenny clamped her lips shut.

"That's really why he brought you and Paul here, why he made you 
fugitives in the first place.  Here neither of you may refuse him 
in any manner."  Amy's lips twisted in a snarl.  "I know he'd be 
a happy man if it weren't for that other bitch of his!"

"Do you know her?"

"Huh!  He's careful not even to mention her name.  But I know the 
signs only too well.  I saw them often enough in my misbegotten 
husband."

"Oh-h-h," groaned Paul.

"What is it, sweetie?" asked the woman solicitously, rising up.  
"That can't be very comfortable, can it?  Well, we'll fix that!"

At the control desk she pressed the buttons that rotated Paul 
upright and loosened his chains somewhat.

"Is that better, sweetie?" she asked, returning.  She rolled up 
the foam pad and threw it aside, but her attention soon turned to 
his genitals.  She lifted the flaccid organ, laid it in her palm 
and bent to lick the last drop from its eye.

She straightened up with a sigh.  "Sweetie, this sweet pole is so 
ordinary in all ways but one, but that one is truly breath-
taking!  Surely someone has told you about it."

Paul allowed himself a slight smile.  "A few other women have 
remarked on it."

"I'll bet they have!  Do you know the story of King Aloysius?"

"Huh?"

"He had the most beautiful palace in the world.  Artisans came 
from far and wide to decorate it for him at first, but they soon 
ceased.  Can you guess why?"

"He wouldn't pay?"

"Not a bad guess, though he was rich, of course.  But, no, King 
Aloysius was jealous.  He couldn't stand the thought that 
somewhere another king might have anything so fine as he.  So 
whenever an artisan finished his work, the poor man was put to 
death."

"Ah, ah --"

"I'm jealous, too.  I can't stand the idea of another woman 
enjoying this cock, not even Jenny."

"B-but ...  You can't mean ..."

She smiled.  "What can't I mean?"

"If you kill me, you can't enjoy it either!"

"Perhaps not, though I can add it to my collection and reminisce 
over it.  I have such lovely memories in my collection!  But, no.  
Kill you?  I could never do that, sweetie.  My son loves your 
asshole much too well; he'd never forgive me.  No, no.  I can't 
kill you.  But he'll never miss this little morsel or its supply 
pouch.  At least, not much."

"B-but --  Please!  Good god!"

Jenny interjected, "Your son loves that cock, too.  You yourself 
told us he said it was special."

The woman's eyes glittered.  "Well, then, he'll just have to find 
himself another one, won't he?"  She took a breath and added with 
determination, "This one shall be _mine_!"

She opened a lower drawer of the cart and removed a Mason jar 
identical to the one used for Harvey.  Next came the glittering 
straight razor.  Someone had cleaned it.  She opened the jar and 
set it in readiness on the cart, which she pushed directly before 
the horrified man.  She grinned at him.  "Too bad you can't kiss 
it good-bye, eh, sweetie?  Tell you what: if you don't scream too 
much, I'll even let you suck it a little.  Is that a deal?"

"Please, please, I'll bleed to death!"

"No, you won't."  She reached deeper in the drawer and produced a 
large sealed gauze pad with a roll of white adhesive tape.  She 
commented chattily, "I really wanted to perform a sex 
reassignment upon you.  I've studied the video tape carefully and 
believe I could do it successfully."  Holding the razor up in one 
hand, she paused to ask the man, "Would you agree to let me make 
a woman of you?"

"Yes!  Yes!  Anything!"

She chuckled and shook her head.  "Anything to keep your cock a 
little while longer, eh?  Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, 
sweetie, but Slim expressly forbade that upon you.  I'm afraid he 
has less confidence in my surgical skill than I have.  He insists 
on keeping you alive.  I can't imagine what's so enjoyable about 
an asshole, can you?  Well, maybe you can.  You have a sort of 
tool to plumb one.  That is, you _had_ such a tool!"

Paul screamed as the razor approached his groin.  She paused with 
the blade held just above his cringing skin and cocked an eyebrow 
up at him.  "What _wouldn't_ you do to stop me?"

He had seen her remove Harvey's equipment in a single curving 
slice of that razor, hardly a full second's work.  He opened his 
mouth for a last desperate plea --

A high but strong voice rang out in the room despite the muffling 
of the drapes:  "What _I_ would do is kill you!"

Amy whirled around.  The two prisoners' eyes flashed up.  A 
short, stocky person, from the voice perhaps a woman, stood in 
hooded parka and gray coveralls just inside the doorway, now 
open, to the apartment interior.  Her hands were extended 
together, holding a large leveled pistol.

"Who the hell are you?" Amy demanded.

"Drop the razor first.  And don't try threatening those people 
with it.  We're only 20 feet apart, and I can and will shoot your 
eye out at this distance."

Amy did drop the razor.  Before it struck the tile she was 
clawing at another drawer in the cart.

"Don't try it!" warned the invader.

But the naked woman rose up, a silver snub-nosed revolver in her 
hand.  Before it was level it snapped a long tongue of flame at 
the intruder.  The resulting crash deafened all ears painfully.  
Half a second later the invader's pistol emitted an orange flare 
and an answering crash that resounded even upon deaf ears.  The 
back of Amy's head exploded, showering Paul with bits of flesh 
and bone.  She was thrown back against his side.  From there she 
collapsed to the tile, twitched twice and lay still.  She stared 
up at him with one unmoving eye.  The other eye-socket was a 
confusion of flesh, blood and clear liquid.

His ears were ringing as the invader advanced upon them.  He 
found himself trembling.  The newcomer tucked the pistol into his 
parka -- _her_ parka; such a smooth chin could only belong to a 
woman.  She stooped briefly over Amy and stood up, looking from 
Paul, now blubbering uncontrollably, to Jenny, who returned her 
stare unflinchingly.

The invader shook her head and said something.

"What?" Jenny called.

"I've really done it now, haven't I?" the woman shouted.

"Yes, you have," Jenny called back.  "You have certainly saved 
Paul's genitals and likely his life.  And she left you no 
choice."

The newcomer took a breath and tilted her head towards Amy.  
"What kind of woman would offer to mutilate a man so?"

"A monster.  Not just 'offer.'  She did that very thing to 
another man here a few days ago."

"Did she!  And where is that man now?"

"This woman's son is the real power here.  He disposed of the 
body in a rock crusher somewhere else in this building."

The newcomer nodded.  "I've seen it.  I thought it smelled of 
blood.  Where is the son?"

"We don't know.  Probably at police headquarters."

The woman stared at Jenny.  Her face worked strangely.  At last 
she said, almost too softly to be heard over the persistent 
ringing, "Tell me the worst of it."

Jenny's eyes narrowed.  "You're Ruth, aren't you?"

"Ruth Taylor."  She let her breath out in a long sigh.  "He's 
mentioned me, then."

"Yes."

"'Paul.'  Would that be Paul Lanning and Jenny Collier?"

"Yes!  Please don't tell me you're aiding him with --  But you 
couldn't be!"

Ruth did not answer the implied accusation directly.  She said, 
"This was his mother, then?"

"Yes."

"Oh, my god, what have I done?"

Paul had recovered somewhat.  He declared, "You've d-done me a 
service I'll never forget!"

"You!" she sneered.  "My John could twist you into a pretzel."

"Oh, yes!"  Paul chuckled bitterly.  "And believe me, he has!"

Jenny noted with a touch of sympathy, "You love him, don't you?"

Ruth took a breath.  "You'll never know such love."

"Won't I?  I rather hope not, at least for a man like him.  You 
probably don't know that he raped both of us several times."

"No, I didn't know it, but I'm not surprised.  Everything about 
John is superhuman, including his appetites.  All right.  The 
first thing is to get you down from there."  On tiptoe she 
examined Jenny's cuff.  "Do you know where they keep the keys?"

"Try her robe pockets.  On the chair."

But the pockets proved empty.

Jenny commented, "I got them away from her the other day and 
almost freed us.  She probably stopped carrying them.  Try the 
cart drawers."

Again Ruth found no key.

Paul noted a strain in Jenny's voice as she suggested, "Please 
look in their living quarters.  When I saw them, they were four 
keys on a small ring.  They're rather peculiar, with teeth inside 
an L-shaped tip."

Ruth nodded.  "Unpickable restraint keys.  I'll recognize them."  
She spun around, took one step toward the door and froze.

"John!" she cried in surprise.

Calhoun stood just inside the interior door, wearing his 
lieutenant's uniform.  He smiled at her in apparent delight.  "I 
can't believe even you could pick a Nordstrom lock!"

"Well, I didn't," she answered, returning his smile.  "I made a 
copy of the Class Seven master key when I took the course."

"You smarty!  Come give me a kiss."  He actually held out his 
arms.

She walked toward him without hesitation.  "John, I just killed 
your mother."

"She pulled the .357 in the cart, eh?  Did she miss?"

"Yes, not even close, John.  That's her bullet hole in the 
drapes."

"But you didn't miss, I see."

She was standing, arms at her side, directly before him.  "No, 
John.  I shot her in the left eye."

"With your Beretta?  Did you collect the brass?"

"No, but I know where it lies."

"Good girl," he acknowledged fondly.  She came into his arms.

Paul muttered in amazement, "She's kissing him?"

"She loves him absolutely," Jenny remarked with a catch in her 
voice.

"Good Christ!  Do you think she can prevent him from killing us?"

"She might help him with that.  Just now we are likely to 
represent her man's greatest danger."

"Oh, shit!  From the frying pan to the fire!"

"Listen!"

By now the ringing had faded.  With concentration Paul could 
understand the low voices across the room.  Calhoun had asked, 
"Will you stick by me, Ruth?"

Her answer was a question, too.  "Do you love me, John?"

He hesitated.  "I ... don't know.  I think so."

"Did you love your mother?"

He shook his head.  "Again I don't know what to call how I felt.  
I almost always obeyed her."

She nodded.  "As I thought.  You do know you're a monster, don't 
you, John?"

He shrugged.  "Perhaps I am."

"But a demigod, as well.  And I know you can give me a child."

"Any man --" he gestured to Paul, "that one, for example -- can 
give you a child."

"Your child, John.  _You_ can give me a child!"

"Perhaps.  I've had my sperm tested.  It fertilized an egg in 
vitro."

She grinned smugly.  "Also _in vivo_, John.  Perhaps I can take 
your mother's place."

His face brightened.  "Yes, I believe you could."

"But obviously not in Ohio.  We'll have to go away, far away."

"Okay."

"You must give up your property and position in Bering, as well 
as the trappings of power you enjoy."

"Okay."

"And you must free those two."

"Wouldn't it be best to grind them up with Momma and burn the 
place down?  I can make it look --"

"No, John.  Yes, it would best for our getaway.  But I'm a moral 
person, even if I do own a porno shop -- which I'll have to 
abandon, too.  I love you totally and I can make excuses for what 
you did under her influence, but the indefensible killings have 
to stop now, John."

"Okay."

"Brace yourself, John."

He studied her quizzically.  Suddenly, with the speed of a 
striking snake, the hand of this stocky little woman, 5'2" at 145 
lb., flashed up and stingingly slapped the face of the man in 
perfect condition, 6'1" at 210 lb.  His head twitched to the side 
but immediately straightened.  He merely waited, cheek reddening.

"That was for leaving this morning without kissing me."

"But --  Okay, dear."

"And to establish the new basis of our relationship.  Do you 
understand, John?"

"Perfectly.  I love you."

"Yes, you do.  Is there any cash in this place?"

"A little.  Maybe 60 grand."

"Unlock them, show them the money and let's go before they can 
summon help."

"Yes, dear."  He drew a ring of keys from his pocket, explaining 
to her as he approached his prisoners, "But we may have more time 
than you think.  There's no clothing here that they'll wear and 
no telephone."

Stepping over his mother's body, he made short work of releasing 
their cuffs.  "Follow me," he ordered, turning toward the 
interior door.

"Maybe I ought to use the hose," suggested Paul diffidently, 
rubbing one wrist in the other hand, looking askance at the 
flecks of Amy on his chest.

"You might prefer warm water from the bathroom," the big man 
answered indifferently, leading all three into the apartment 
where Amy had lived alone for many years.  Ruth paused to collect 
her spent cartridge, then followed him with the others to a safe, 
inset on a wall behind a framed landscape.  He set the picture 
off on the floor, spun the dials, opened it and pointed to a tall 
stack of currency.  "That's yours, about 60 grand the last time I 
counted it."  He grinned.  "And I guarantee it's unmarked and 
unrecorded.  One other thing you might find useful:" -- he 
pointed to some gray ledger books on a shelf -- "Mamma's journal.  
She recorded everything she and I did.  Almost everything."  He 
flicked Ruth a grin.  "If you show it to the cops, it should 
absolve you of the crimes Ohio has charged you with."

Ruth strode forward.  "John, take the money out, leave it on the 
table and close up that safe."  She looked from Paul to Jenny as 
the big man obeyed her.  "We'll leave you now.  You have your 
freedom and I'm sure you can improvise something to wear from 
those closets and drawers.  In regard to the money: like John 
says, it's yours in compensation to some degree for what he's put 
you through, but consider this.  That's off-the-record money and 
your fingerprints are not on the safe.  But if the cops catch us, 
we'll tell them about it.  They'd be most interested, I'm sure.  
So if you have a bite to eat and take your time about leaving 
here and turning us in, you stand a good chance of being 60 
thousand richer with no one the wiser."

"Whose money is it?" asked Paul.

"It's legitimate," Calhoun answered.  "Now it's yours."  To Ruth 
he said, "Ready to go?"

"Come on.  I'll ride with you."

When the door closed behind them, Paul heaved a huge sigh.  "I 
can't believe it!"

Jenny chuckled and started to hug him before drawing back.  "Ugh!  
I think that's half of Amy's head on your chest.  Find the 
bathroom and wash yourself off.  I'll see what I can improvise 
for clothes.  If you have to, you can wear one of her robes."

Paul looked around, shaking his head.  "Believe me, I'll wear 
anything to get out of this place!"



NEXT:  Chapter 30: Bobbie's Return
Varangian:  ludmax11@hotmail.com
Kellis:     kellis@dhp.com
Varkel's stories at http://www.dhp.com/files/Authors/kellis/www

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+