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Subject: {ASSM} The Innocent Fugitives Ch30 {Varkel} (Mg Mg anal rape ped}
Date: Wed,  7 Mar 2001 08:10:04 -0500
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The Innocent Fugitives
a Novel by Varkel
Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel



Chapter 30:  Bobbie's Return



Bernie grunted and scowled as he rose from his easy chair to 
answer the telephone.  It was unseemly to answer it himself, but 
no one else was around at the moment.

"Yeah!" he almost shouted into the mouthpiece.

"Is this Bernie?" a woman's voice said nervously.  "This is 
Jenny, your favorite nurse."

Bernie stared at the phone in momentary incomprehension.  The 
woman continued after a moment, "Paul and I are out of jail, 
Bernie.  We've been cleared of the charges."

The man again failed to respond.

"Bernie!  Are you there?"

He took a breath.  "Yeah, yeah, Jenny, that's good news.  But I 
can't take you back, if that's what you're calling about.  You're 
too hot in this town."

"No, I don't want to come back.  Paul and I have other plans.  
But you could do us a real favor."

"Sure, kid.  I can let you have a few bucks.  You must be having 
a hard time."

"We don't need money, Bernie, but thanks just the same.  We need 
help in getting our kid back, our Bobbie.  The cops put her in a 
nuthouse and we don't know what to do."

"Yeah, I know about her.  So you really want her back?  I was 
thinking that I could use the kid when things quiet down.  I have 
some very particular customers I need to keep happy."

"Please don't, Bernie.  I admit Bobbie would probably love that 
kind of work, but we want her with us so we can straighten her 
out.  Can you help?"

"I think so, Jenny.  Let me think a minute...  Sure.  I can 
spring the kid.  Give me a call tomorrow and I'll have it all 
arranged."


* * *


"Is Nurse Covey there?" Bernie spoke politely into the mouthpiece 
and then waited, his fingers drumming on the desktop.

"Nurse Covey speaking," a woman eventually announced.

"Hi there, Grace.  Bernie Nails here."  He sat up straight.  "I'm 
calling to let you know that your friend down in Peoria won't be 
getting fidgety.  I've arranged for a regular fix."

"Ah, gee, thanks, Bernie.  I was really worried about him.  Now 
he'll be able to do those eighteen months standing on his head."

"Sure, sure, no problem.  Just a favor for an old friend.  And 
speaking of favors, there's something you could do for me."

"Anything, Bernie.  Don't tell me you have a client with a bent 
for a skinny, middle age blonde!"

"No, nothing like that, sweetie, although you know how I love to 
park my dick in your scrawny twat.  It's something else.  It has 
to do with that kid named Bobbie."

"Bobbie!  Now that's a pure-bred slut, if I ever saw one.  She'd 
pay you to service your clients."

"Really?  Well, that's not the reason I was asking about her.  
Actually I want to spring her from Atkins and send her to St. 
Elizabeth's Home for Girls in Keokuk.  Can you help me out?  I'll 
have someone over tomorrow morning with all the papers."

"Sure, Bernie.  St. Elizabeth's, huh?  Whatever you say."  She 
chuckled knowingly.  "I know some guys here who will miss her."

"You can do it?  Clear it with her doctors?"

"No problem at all.  Her primary doctor, Sonnenschein, will be 
really easy."

Nurse Covey hung up the phone and grinned at the sight of Dr. 
Sonnenschein walking toward the nurses' station.

"Hi there, Barry," she said with a roguish wink.  "I have some 
good news about Bobbie.  Hope it doesn't set you back too far."


* * *


Sonnenschein sat at his office desk to examine the papers 
regarding Bobbie's discharge.

"You say you represent this, ah, Bernardo DiGrazia?" he asked the 
dowdy woman in the chair before him.  She was stout, clad in a 
gray woolen suit and sported a slight mustache.  She had 
identified herself as Gladys Carfinger.

"Yes, doctor.  He's a local philanthropist who has a particular 
interest in helping wayward young people."

"Well, Bobbie is certainly in need of help, but I really must 
interview Mr. DiGrazia personally before I can permit the child 
to leave."

"'Peronally?'  I, ah, wasn't expecting this."  The woman was 
obviously flustered.  "I thought I could just take her away.  All 
the paper work is in order."

"Yes, it is, except for my signature," Sonnenschein responded 
with a smile and leaned back in his chair.  "Bobbie is special to 
me.  I feel very protective of her.  Actually she is scheduled 
for psychotherapy this afternoon at my apartment with me and 
Alice, her nurse.  Perhaps Mr. DiGrazia could meet us there."

"He's a busy man, doctor," the woman complained, rising to her 
feet.

"I'm sure he is," Sonnenschein responded, also standing.  "Here's 
my card.  Perhaps he could find a few minutes free sometime 
before four?"


* * *


Bernie left his driver-bodyguard with the car and went up to 
Sonnenschein's apartment alone.  He was not impressed by the 
luxury of the high rise, in which he held a part interest.  
Exiting the elevator on the fortieth floor, he saw a well-dressed 
young man standing in an open door before him.  "Mr. DiGrazia?" 
asked the stranger.

"Dr. Sonnenschein?"

The two men shook hands and entered the apartment.  Bernie was 
immediately struck by the intimidating presence of an enormous 
black female.  She stood beside a lovely young girl whose flaxen 
head did not approach the woman's shoulders.

"I'm Alice Darbon," the amazon announced and extended her hand.  
Bernie took it into his own, but his gaze did not waver from the 
girl's angelic face.  "This is Bobbie," the woman explained 
unnecessarily.  The girl gave him an amused look that suggested 
sophisticated naughtiness.  This was not what he had been 
expecting, he concluded immediately.  This Bobbie was not just a 
patient, and his suspicion was confirmed when the girl stepped 
next to Sonnenschein, took hold of the man's hand and impudently 
placed a thumb in her mouth.  God, this little number was hot!

"Mr. DiGrazia," Sonnenschein said with a certain severity.  "St. 
Elizabeth's in Keokuk has been closed for over a year."

Bernie, caught in a lie, squirmed uncomfortably.  The truth was 
his only recourse.

"Bobbie," he said softly to the girl, "your mommy wants you 
back."

Sonnenschein's face drooped in stupefaction.  Alice grew 
ominously rigid as her mouth and eyes expanded in shock.  
Bobbie's face exploded with the joy of a child rescued 
unexpectedly from a horrid nightmare.  "And Paul too?" she asked 
eagerly, genuine tears welling in her blue eyes.  Bernie nodded 
affirmatively.

Bernie turned to Sonnenschein.  "You have a special interest in 
her, don't you?" he said with a half concealed smirk.  He was 
ready to bargain for the girl, to purchase her.

"I told your woman that."

"I think more special than you hinted to Mrs. Carfinger."

Significantly the young man did not ask Bernie what he meant.  
Instead he demanded with a sneer, "How can Bobbie believe you 
after this recent subterfuge of yours?"

"I can prove it all," Bernie replied with a cock of his head.  
"But I suspect you don't want to let the girl go."

"Let her go?  Of course I'd like to return her to her parents, 
but they're in jail."

"They're free now.  They beat the rap."

"How can we believe you?" Sonnenschein exclaimed once more.

"I have their phone number here," Bernie replied, extending his 
hand with a card between thumb and forefinger.  "Call them.  Or 
better yet, let the girl call them."

Bobbie snatched the card from his hand and rushed with it into 
another room.  Alice followed.

Sonnenschein demanded in a lower voice, "You really have 
contacted Lanning and Collier?"

Bernie's eye twinkled.  "I heard their name was Smith!"  He 
laughed shortly.  "In fact, Jenny contacted me.  She truly wants 
this kid back.  The question is, why won't you let her go?  
What's the problem?"

Sonnenschein studied Bernie's guileless face.  He sighed and sat 
heavily on the couch.  "Actually this solves a large problem for 
me."

"A large problem in a small package, huh?"

Sonnenschein resented the sneering implication, but he could not 
protest innocence.  He just nodded.

Loud, childish squeals poured from the bedroom.  "Jenny, Jenny!" 
Bobbie cried out, obviously on the telephone.

Bernie sat on the couch next to Sonnenschein.  "I'd planned to 
reunite them in a couple days down in Gary," he said with a slap 
of his hand on the other's knee.  "But maybe you'd like to do 
that."

Sonnenschein looked into the man's face and nodded.  "But she'll 
have to go back to the hospital."

"If you sign the papers, she can stay here.  I have it all 
arranged."

"Here?  She can't stay here, not tonight or tomorrow.  Alice and 
I are on duty."

"I meant she can stay with me," Bernie responded casually.  "The 
women in my house will take care of her."

"That might work."  Sonnenschein nodded his head again as he 
listened to Bobbie's torrent of words coming from the next room.


* * *


"Do people call you Mr. Nails?" Bobbie asked innocently as she 
and Bernie approached the carved oak door of his suburban 
mansion.

"No, pumpkin.  I'm known as Mr. DiGrazia or as Bernie Nails."

"Well, I'll just call you Bernie," she said with a determination 
that allowed no correction.

The door opened as they reached it to reveal a large, middle age 
woman clad in a half apron over her maid's uniform.  "Good 
evening, sir," she greeted them deferentially, though her eyes 
were on the blond girl who was half a head shorter than her 
stubby boss.

"This is Bobbie, Mildred.  She'll be staying with us until 
tomorrow night."

"Yes sir," the woman replied and closed the door behind the 
newcomers.  "Shall I put her up in the playroom?"

Bernie winced slightly but nodded his head.  "See that she's well 
scrubbed and find some nice clothes for her up there."

"Yes sir.  I think she would look especially attractive in a 
green plaid skirt and a white blouse."

"Yes, yes, Mildred.  I'm sure you'll find something."

"Are we going to eat soon?" Bobbie interrupted.

"Yes, of course, sweetheart.  Mildred will get some food for you.  
I'll join you upstairs later."

"You want me to eat first?" the girl asked with a knowing smirk, 
but she got no reply.  Mildred led her up the stairs and Bernie 
headed for the bar.

The girl was hot, hot, hot! Bernie thought as he massaged his 
hard cock through his trousers.  He poured himself a tall glass 
of vodka on ice and collapsed into a leather chair.  He had never 
fucked a child before, had never felt the least urge for young 
flesh.  But from what Covey had said Bobbie was ready for 
anything.

The second drink left him with a slight buzz but still in 
control.  He decided against a third.  Perhaps later, after the 
fun.  He lounged in the chair and remembered the girls from his 
junior high school days, the ones who were so pretty but who 
would never give him even the time of day.

"Mr. DiGrazia," Mildred's voice interrupted his reverie.  "She's 
ready for you.  I took the liberty of telling her that you wanted 
to play a game.  Am I mistaken?"

"No, no.  Not at all.  What game did you suggest?"

"I just guessed, sir, because, ah, we haven't done this before.  
I told her to act like an innocent school girl."

"Yes, quite right.  But you know, of course, that she isn't"

"That's none of my business, sir," the woman replied calmly 
before departing toward the kitchen.

Bernie eased himself up from the chair and decided after all to 
have a third drink, which he took with him upstairs to his room.  
During the shower his cock remained vigilantly rigid, 
impressively long and thick, unusual for such a short man.  He 
wondered if it were too large for the kid but quickly dismissed 
that worry, because she was such an experienced slut.

The playroom was a couple of doors down from his own.  Bernie 
approached it clad in a silk robe and slippers, not quite 
unsteady on his feet.  He turned the knob, threw open the door 
and stood looking into the room.  Bobbie sat on a small couch 
near the windows nuzzling a stuffed animal to her face.  She was 
fully dressed as a schoolgirl with a green plaid skirt, white 
blouse, white anklets and black, leather loafers.  Her graceful 
arms and legs shimmered in youthful, blonde beauty.  Her flaxen 
hair, pulled back in a ponytail, was slightly unruly with wisps 
crowding her creamy cheeks and forehead.  Her lips were naturally 
roseate as, he was sure, were her unseen nipples.

"Well, you certainly look the part," he snorted with a half 
chuckle.  "I'll have to give you that."

"Hi, Uncle Bernie," she said in a voice that sounded a bit more 
sing song than he remembered.  She smiled at him in seeming 
innocence and placed her toy aside.  Bobbie had expected to play 
a gentle game of uncle and niece with the man, a slow charade of 
exploration and feigned conquest, but something in the florid 
visage as it drew near reminded her unpleasantly of Uncle Kenny.

"I've never raped a school girl before," he growled, shrugging 
off the robe to reveal his dumpy, hairy body and massive cock.

Bobbie, an instinctive actress, immediately changed roles.  "What 
are you doing, Uncle Bernie?" she asked in a tremulous voice and 
curled protectively on the couch.  "Please don't hurt me."

Suddenly he remembered them.  He remembered their airs, their 
sneering smiles, their fawning on the jocks.  He remembered them 
all.

"You snotty little bitch!" he stormed and slapped her head hard 
enough to make her eyes cross.  He was not playing the same game.  
"You get into the eighth grade, start to grow tits and suppose 
you're something precious."  He yanked her pony tail and sent the 
girl sprawling on the floor.

"I'll do whatever you want," Bobbie pleaded desperately as she 
lay below him with her skirt bunched up around her waist.  The 
sight of her exquisite thighs and white panties seemed to enflame 
the man even more.  He reached down and ripped off her blouse 
sending the buttons flying.

Bobbie tried to scamper away on her hands and knees, but Bernie 
grabbed the elastic hem of her panties and pulled them down to 
her calves.  He seized her from behind and brought her to a 
kneeling position then squatted to thrust his cock rudely into 
her.

"Don't be so rough, Bernie!" she protested, losing all further 
interest in the game.  "Just fuck me."  But he extracted his cock 
from her cunt and jammed it violently into her ass hole.

"Stop! Stop!" she screamed and then began to bawl when he 
continued to ream her relentlessly.  He had drunk too much and so 
his climax was long in coming.

When he finished, he rose heavily to his feet and left the girl 
sobbing on the carpet.  He went to get another drink.

Well, that was fun, he said to himself as he descended the 
staircase.  I should have done that back in junior high.  Mildred 
was waiting at the foot of the stairs.

"Is the girl alright?" she asked her naked boss without much 
concern.

"She'll live," was the terse reply.

Upstairs Bobbie got to her knees and looked wildly about.  She 
stood to straighten her panties then rushed to a closet where she 
had seen clothing.  After grabbing a sweater and pulling it over 
her head, she retrieved her parka from a chair and put it on.

With careful stealth she eased out of the room to the hallway 
where she looked for a means of escape, certainly not the main 
stairs.  She rushed first to the right but found only doors to 
other rooms.  At the opposite end of the hallway, however, she 
discovered a narrow staircase that descended to a pantry area off 
the kitchen.  She was out the back door in a flash and ran down 
the long driveway past tall bushes not yet in bud.  At the quiet 
street she did not know which way to turn, so she ran across it 
and hurried to the left in the crisp, bracing air of early 
spring.


* * *


"Corley!" Bernie screamed into the phone, "the little slut has 
run off.  Get your ass in the limo and find her before the cops 
pick her up.  I don't think I could buy my way out of baby rape, 
so get moving."

Bernie's lieutenant flew down the stairs from his apartment over 
the garage, pulling on a jacket even before his shirttail was 
tucked in.  With a squeal of tires the black, extended Mercedes 
roared down the driveway and into the street.  It would not be 
difficult to find the girl, he knew, because all the twisted 
streets of the neighborhood led to a single intersection at a 
brightly lit avenue.  He drove there, parked the car and got out 
to wait behind some bushes.

When Bobbie approached the lighted street ahead of her, she felt 
a measure of relief.  She no longer sniffled, despite the 
lingering hurt of her anus and the stickiness there.  She fumed 
in bitter anger and wondered if she would have to put up with 
such treatment for the rest of her life.

Apparently so.  A man suddenly stepped out of the bushes and 
grabbed her roughly.  She screamed in fright.

"Be quiet Bobbie," he ordered, holding her tightly with both 
arms.  "I don't want to hurt you."

She continued to yell and squirm in his embrace, but he pushed 
her into the front seat of a limousine at the curb and locked the 
door.

"I know you!" she declared bitterly when Corley positioned 
himself behind the steering wheel.  "You work for Mr. Nasty!"

He did not reply, but retrieved a tiny transceiver from his 
pocket and punched a button.

"I got her, Boss.  What now?" he said into the mouth piece, his 
eyes on the girl who cowered against the passenger door.

"Take her some place and keep her until tomorrow afternoon," 
Bernie's voice squawked from the device.  "You have to deliver 
her alive at six."

"Right, Boss.  I'll keep in touch."

Corley put the car in motion and drove off.  "I won't hurt you, 
little girl," he said softly with a glance at her.  "I'll drop 
you off tomorrow where we picked you up."

"Where are we going?" Bobbie demanded with a sneer.  "I'm not in 
the mood for fucking."

"Don't worry.  I won't touch you.  I'm just taking you to a place 
where we can spend the night."  He gave her a reassuring smile.

The warmth of the car's interior sent Bobbie into a fitful doze 
from which she jerked awake several times.  After uncounted 
minutes she awoke to find the car parking in front of the 
apartment house where she had lived with Jenny and Paul.

"I used to live here!" she exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes, I know," Corley responded with a grin.  "Your old place is 
still as you left it."

"I want to see Tom."

"Who's that?"

"He lives downstairs.  He's my friend and I want to stay with 
him."

"He's moved out, Bobbie.  We'll put up in your old apartment.  
You can sleep in your own bed."

That prospect pleased the girl, and she began to feel more 
relaxed despite her recent trauma.

"Is Bernie coming over?" she asked fearfully all of a sudden.

"No, sweetheart.  You won't be seeing him again.  Let's go 
inside."


* * *


The next morning Bobbie awoke on her old bed where she had 
collapsed in exhaustion the previous night.  Her parka was spread 
over her, and she did not remember taking off her shoes.  She got 
up and went into the familiar bathroom to relieve herself.

"Good morning, angel," Corley announced cheerfully when she came 
back out, the toilet flushing behind her.

"I'm hungry," she said sullenly.

"I knew you would be, so I went out early and got some Danish, 
milk and coffee."  The swarthy man, who stood more than a head 
taller than she, gave her golden head a slight pet, which she did 
not resent.  They ate in silence at the kitchen table, Corley 
looking over at her occasionally.

"You like what you see?" she asked finally with an impish cock of 
her head.

"You're very beautiful, Bobbie," he replied gently, blushing 
slightly.

She turned again to her food to conceal a grin.

After breakfast Bobbie lounged on the living room couch, her 
skirt bunched up to reveal her lower thighs.  It was a deliberate 
pose.  Corley paced the room for some minutes before he sat 
beside her.

"What's wrong with the TV?" she asked.

"I think the cable's turned off."

"Then what are we going to do all day?  I'm bored."

"Perhaps we can think of something," Corley replied nervously and 
touched her knee with a single finger.  She moved her leg toward 
him slightly.  He placed a full palm on the knee.

"You want to touch me more than that, don't you, Corley?" she 
said slowly and squinted at him like a kid.

He quickly removed his hand and stood.  "You're just a child," he 
almost stammered.

"Did you ever feel up a child, Corley, one with itty-bitty tits 
and no hair?"  She grinned mercilessly.

He did not reply, but went to the window and looked out.  "I like 
grown women," he declared as he stared into the street.

"My legs are almost grown, see."  She splayed her legs from the 
couch, the pulled up skirt revealing white panties.

He turned and gazed at them.  "Yes, they're lovely," he murmured, 
walked over and sat again beside her.  Diffidently, he placed a 
hand on a thigh, his fingers brushing the soft inner part.  "They 
don't feel grown up," he said in a very quiet voice.

Bobbie leaned her head against the back of the couch and closed 
her eyes.  "You may play with me, Uncle Corley," she said almost 
in a whisper.

"Is it true what they say about you, Bobbie?" he asked in a shaky 
voice, his hand roaming her thigh until his fingers touched the 
white panties.  She did not reply but squirmed her bottom 
provocatively.  She remained passive as he undressed her, moving 
her body only enough to assist him.  When she was naked, she 
suddenly opened her eyes and looked into his face.  Drool oozed 
from a corner of his mouth.  "What do you think?" she finally 
answered him with a quirky grin.

With a loud gasp Corley pulled her into his arms and rose to his 
feet.  He carried her to the main bedroom and placed her gently 
down on the bed.

"I want to eat you up," he declared excitedly as he fumbled with 
his clothes.  Bobbie raised her knees high and spread her legs 
widely apart in invitation.  "Eat me later, Uncle Corley.  I need 
you to fuck me now."

He was quickly atop her, in her, but before she could even get 
comfortable he cried out in orgasm.  "Oops," she giggled, not 
disappointed.  They had all day for this.


* * *


Sonnenschein stood beside his car and watched with a certain 
wistful envy as Bobbie kissed and embraced the two persons she 
seemed to love truly, her foster parents.  He had not yet met 
them, because as soon as he pulled to a stop in front of the 
motel the girl was out of the car racing to their waiting arms.  
After a few moments of joyous reunion the man took Bobbie into 
the motel room and the woman came over to the car.

"Hello, I'm Jenny," the woman said with a blissful smile and a 
welcoming hand.  "I want to thank you for bringing Bobbie to us.  
Did Bernie send you?  You don't look like the sort of person who 
works for him."

"No, Ms. Smith.  My name is Barry Sonnenschein.  I was one of 
Bobbie's doctors for a while.  As for Mr. DiGrazia, Bernie, I 
suggest you avoid him in the future."

"Oh?  Why do you say that?  Bernie has always been kind to us."

Sonnenschein hesitated before he replied.  "Ms. Smith, that man 
took Bobbie to his house last night and raped her."

Jenny too hesitated.  "Are you certain it was rape, Dr. 
Sonnenschein?  Do you ... really know about Bobbie?"

"Yes, ma'am.  I am very familiar with her, ah, peculiarities.  I 
treated her as a psychiatrist.  Bernie did not commit statutory 
rape with a willing minor.  That's not what I meant.  He brutally 
assaulted her in a most painful fashion while he was in a drunken 
fit.  Bobbie complained about it bitterly.  I examined her 
physically some hours afterwards, and I must tell you that she 
was injured, if only temporarily.  I understand you were -- are a 
nurse.  She has a fresh anal fissure."

Jenny gazed at the traffic passing on the highway nearby.  "We 
won't be seeing him again in any case," she mumbled in a somber 
voice."  She then turned to look into Sonnenschein's face.  "You 
said you treated Bobbie psychologically."

"I'm a psychiatrist," he corrected her.

"Yes, of course.  I'm sorry."  She smiled at him.  "I do know 
better."  She paused with her eyes still on his face.  "Dr. 
Sonnenschein, could we talk for a few minutes?  I want to ask you 
about Bobbie.  I would like your professional opinion."

"Of course, Ms. Smith.  We could go over to the motel restaurant, 
if you don't mind.  I've missed supper."

"Yes, that would be fine.  But wait a moment please while I tell 
Bobbie and Paul where we'll be."

Sonnenschein gazed admiringly at the woman's slender, shapely 
figure as she retreated to the motel room and entered it.  Within 
a minute she returned.

"Now, let's get something to eat," she suggested with a wide 
smile.  "The others will join us in twenty or thirty minutes."


* * *


When Jenny entered the motel room, Bobbie and Paul had just 
finished undressing and the girl was already lying on the bed.

"Really, you two!" Jenny exclaimed in mock exasperation.  "We 
have all night for that.  Dr. Sonnenschein is still outside and 
we'll have to say good-bye to him.

"Do you think he'll wait for a little while, Mommy?" Bobbie 
pleaded.  "Daddy and I won't take long."

"He's not leaving right away, darling.  We'll be over in the 
coffee shop and I want you two to join us within a half an hour."  
Jenny closed the door quietly as she left the room.

"Do you want to just cuddle, baby, or would you rather for us to 
get sweaty?" Paul asked, his voice muffled, his lips on an 
incipient tit.

"Do you need pleasure, Daddy?  I'll get on top if you do."

"What's this?  You're not in the mood, poodle?  Have you and Dr. 
Sonnenschein been busy saying good-bye?"

"No, it wasn't him, Daddy.  He won't do it with me anymore, 
because he's afraid.  It was Corley.  We did it five or six times 
today.  I really taught him how to do me right."

"Corley, huh!  Well, in the future you won't be going with people 
like him again.  You'll have to remain satisfied with me."

"Just you, Daddy?  Just you?"

"Am I so awful?"

"No, Daddy!  You're perfect.  But you're just not enough by 
yourself."

"We'll talk about it later, darling, the three of us.  Now squirm 
on top of me.  I want to look at your beauty while I enjoy you."

She introduced his erection with her own hand and sighed.  "It 
feels good even when it's not special."

"I'm glad of that," he responded dryly, "especially if it's not 
special."

"Oh!"  She giggled.  "I didn't mean it that way."  She wriggled 
her hips.  "Your cock is always special, Daddy.  I mean it feels 
good even when I don't need it."

"You sure feel good to me!"

"Um, Daddy, before it feels _too_ good, can I ask you something?"

"Okay, sweetie, if you hurry."

"What's going to happen now?  We're not going back to Chicago, 
are we?"

"No, dear.  Do you remember Hannah in Kentucky?"

"Hannah?  The lady with the motel?  Ooo!"  She squealed, arching 
her back upon his belly and clenching her sphincters 
delightfully.  "I'll see Jimmy again!"


* * *


At their knock Hannah admitted them to her private quarters, bade 
them take seats and served them cheese and crackers with a beer 
for the adults and a coke for Bobbie.  "All settled in?" she 
asked, taking her own seat across the coffee table.

"We're unpacked," answered Jenny, "though it worries me that you 
won't talk about charging us for that suite."

The older woman waved a hand negligently.  "Oh, there'll be 
charges.  Have to pay for maid service and utilities.  I'll let 
you know all about that at the end of the month, but the main 
thing is for you to feel at home."

Jenny grinned archly.  "Did you think some of the charges might 
be taken out in trade?"

"Now that you mention it, I have a couple of city commissioners 
who've asked about you."

Jenny smiled but Paul heaved a sigh.  Hannah winked at Jenny and 
said to Paul, "Now don't you feel left out.  I have a couple of 
friends who are dying to meet you, too."

"What did you tell them?"

"How rare a man you are, of course."

His accusing stare changed to a grin.  "They're interested in 
rare men, are they?"

Hannah smirked.  "I should say, men with rare qualities."

"That's what I was afraid of," Paul retorted, but with a smile.

Hannah's eyebrows rose.  "What does _fear_ have to do with it?"

Jenny chuckled.  "Paul nearly lost that rare quality of his while 
we were guests of the Calhouns."

"What?  How could he lose it?  You mean they meant to kill him?"

"No," Jenny answered thoughtfully, "I don't think they meant to 
kill either of us, at least not for some time.  Amy, Calhoun's 
mother, enjoyed inflicting pain.  She liked having people chained 
within reach, whom she could hurt arbitrarily howsoever she 
wished.  I can just imagine her as the mistress of a feudal 
castle, visiting the torture chambers every day.  But she didn't 
want us dead.  When her son stopped feeding us to spend time with 
his policewoman, Amy brought us food.  She even cooked us a large 
meal."

"Did she!"

"She was a good cook," Paul admitted, "though doing without food 
for four days would improve anyone's appetite."

Hannah shrugged.  "That's interesting, but what does it have to 
do with losing his perfection?"

"My perfection!" Paul repeated with a derisive laugh.  He nodded 
his head suggestively toward Bobbie who sat picking her nose at 
the end of the table.

"Bobbie," Jenny asked, "didn't you say you wanted to see if you 
could find the friends you made here?"

The girl's eyes had been flicking back and forth with interest 
from speaker to speaker.  Now she sniffed.  "Can't I hear what 
happened in Ohio?"

"We'll tell you later, dear," said Jenny, looking at her 
wristwatch.  "It's three-thirty.  Your friends ought to be out of 
school by now."

"Oh, yeah!" Bobbie agreed, eyes lighting up.  She put down her 
half-finished coke and surged to her feet.  "Can I go now?"

Jenny started to approve, but the girl had dashed out the door 
before the words could emerge.

Paul sniffed.  "Is there any point in treating her as less than 
an adult in these matters?"

Jenny sighed.  "It's just that she _looks_ so immature!  But 
she's been mistreated, too.  Bernie Nails raped her anally the 
night before Dr. Sonnenschein delivered her to us."  The young 
woman chuckled bitterly.  "I don't know why that surprised me, 
but it did."

"Bernie did that?" breathed Hannah, eyebrows rising.  "I didn't 
know he had a weakness for young girls."

Paul noted sourly, "I'll bet he didn't either.  Bobbie has the 
knack of producing such a weakness."

Jenny flared, "That's right, blame it on the victim!  Anyway, Dr. 
Sonnenschein examined her afterwards, and he confirmed it."

"I guess it sounds unfair," Paul protested, "but watch how Bobbie 
behaves around a new man -- _any_ new man!"

"I've noticed," Jenny admitted grudgingly, thinking of Tom in his 
basement apartment.

Hannah suggested, "You were going to tell me how Paul nearly lost 
his perfect dick."

Jenny held up two fingers almost touching.  "Amy came that close 
to slicing off the whole works!"  She chuckled at Hannah's 
horrified expression and proceeded to relate the story of their 
last week in the warehouse, beginning with the mutilation and 
death of Harvey.

Hannah asked many questions in obvious fascination, ending with, 
"Well, just how did you finally get out of there?"

"You should've seen him!"  Jenny laughed.  "It's a good thing 
Paul's not a big man.  He was able to get into Amy's clothes if 
we didn't close the zippers and buttons.  In fact we got out 
pretty quick, wearing Amy's clothes, some of which had to be 20 
years old!  Good thing it was daytime or the muggers would've 
been all over us.  We found a telephone booth about four blocks 
away and called the state cops.  They showed up right away and we 
took them back to the warehouse.  When they saw the torture 
chamber and Amy's body, it wasn't long before they took us home.  
Our houses were a mess.  Children had broken into both and 
ransacked them.  But at least they left us clothes that fit.

"I guess you read all about what the cops found out.  Didn't it 
make the national news?"

Hannah nodded.  "Oh, yes, TV and all.  They even put dummies in 
that thing they called the 'Torture Cylinder.' ran it back and 
forth, let the chains out, really showed it off.  I hear Magtel 
is coming out with a toy one next month.  It might even be as hot 
as those ugly dolls a few years ago."

"How about Amy's journal?"

"Oh, yeah.  Look in that magazine over there.  They quoted big 
chunks of it.  Some big publisher is planning to put out a book."  
She grinned.  "I might even make a movie about it.  One thing's 
for sure: nobody is worrying about copyrights."

Paul asked, "Have you heard anything about Calhoun's 
whereabouts?"

"Not a word.  He and that girlfriend of his have disappeared off 
the face of the earth.  People think they have help.  Cops take 
care of their own, even when they go bad.  Do you think he'll 
come after you?"

Paul smiled.  "No, I don't.  That Ruth is something else!  She 
took him over like a mother with a small boy."

"Her picture must not do her justice."

"I don't know about that.  She never took off her parka.  But 
when she slapped the shit out of Calhoun, he told her he loved 
her for it."

As if by mutual agreement a short silence fell while each person 
took a swig of beer.  Jenny said, "It was obvious to both of us 
that we'd never fit back into our old lives, not after all _we_ 
had been through!  We talked it over and decided to call you.  
Our property in Bering is on the market.  How do our prospects 
look in Kentucky?"

"They look great," Hannah replied with a smile.  "Paul, I noticed 
your bookmark near the back of that movie-making book when I 
cleaned up your room.  You must've found it interesting."

Paul perked up.  "Yes, indeed.  They can do some fascinating 
things with anisotropic screens."

"I was talking to Frazier Harris, our producer, about that just 
recently.  A new technique is out that's even more flexible.  It 
uses a computer to blend scenes and gets around the limitations 
of that screen.  He's willing to pay for a dedicated man to learn 
the technique.  You interested?"

"You bet!"

Hannah grinned at Jenny.  "Harris also needs a nurse on his sets.  
A boom broke last week and dropped a camera.  It cut Dickie 
Longpud's ass pretty bad, had to have stitches.  Poor man bled 
all over the backseat of my car going to the emergency room.  I 
really wished you had been here, Jenny!"

Jenny asked, "You mean you only want me as a nurse?"

Hannah's eyes widened.  "Of course not!  But a girl who can work 
on both ends of the camera is rare."  She grinned.  "Of course, 
the big money is still in the money shot.  How're your gums?"

"Healthy," Jenny answered.  "I've been careful to keep them that 
way."

"Good.  Jism on the tongue pays top dollar.  How are _your_ gums, 
Paul?"

"Now wait a minute --"

"I'm asking because we've got a bi-sexual flick going into 
production next month.  The world of porn is changing!  We need 
male come-swallowers, too, and would you believe, it's hard to 
find any who'll do it on camera?"

Jenny grinned around at Paul.  "What was that town in Indiana?"

"Exegy."

"Yeah, that's it.  You remember Elmer, don't you?"

Paul retorted sarcastically, "How could I forget him?"

"He's a show-off and a half."  She laughed, eyes sparkling.  
"I'll never forget what happened when he caught me in bed with 
Doug."

"Neither will I," Paul agreed sourly.

"I'll bet we could get both of them for your movie, Hannah -- 
that is, if you can stand rather old men.  They're both in their 
sixties."

Hannah seemed impressed.  "Old fags are hard to find!"

"And they're bound to know others."

Hannah looked from one to the other, smiling widely.  "I knew 
that bringing you folks back here would be good for us all."

Paul nodded.  "I hope so.  It will surely be different from --"

Bobbie pushed the door open brusquely and marched into the room, 
pulling a boy only slightly larger by the arm.  Despite his 
obvious reluctance, she dragged him before the three adults and 
hugged him against her side tightly.

"This is Jimmy," she announced.  "We're going to get married."



NEXT:  Epilog: Coincidence
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.
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