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Message-ID: <50086asstr$1104786603@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Russell Hoisington" <hoisingr@hushmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} G'Night, Pixie 06/06 {Hoisington} (MF Mf solo oral anal group inc cons M/reluc caution)
Lines: 663
Date: Mon,  3 Jan 2005 16:10:03 -0500
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                          G'NIGHT, PIXIE
                        Russell Hoisington

  ************************************************************

This is an erotic fantasy.  The characters and the situation are
purely imaginary, and this story is NOT intended to be a guide
for actual behavior.  Any similarities between this story and
actual people, or actual events that you should be ashamed of,
are purely coincidental.  If it is illegal in your part of the
world to access and read erotic fiction, or if you are underage,
or if you don't like sex stories, then stop now.

This story is copyright 2004 by Russell Hoisington.  Please do
not remove the author information or make any changes to this
story.  You may post freely to non-commercial (free) sites, or in
the "free" area of commercial sites.  That does NOT mean that
they are in the public domain, nor does it mean that I give
permission for you to use them in spam advertising.  I reserve
the right to determine what is "spam advertising" by MY
definition, not yours or anyone else's.

Thank you for your consideration.

  ************************************************************



                               Six
                             G'Night

     Alyson was lying at the edge of the water, holding her left
foot and screaming.  Her breakfast lay splashed on the sand
beside her.  Her deck shoes sat a few feet inland.  While Doug
examined Alyson's foot, Mary washed the vomit from the girl's
lips, cheek, and chin.
 
     "Small puncture wound," he said.  "Inflammation setting in. 
Something protruding.  Honey!  Alyson!  Where did it happen?"
 
     He had to repeat the question.  She managed get out that it
happened a few feet seaward from where she lay.  He left her with
Mary and waded out.  It was easy to spot, but the waves were
erasing the disturbance in the sandy bottom.  He poked with the
toe of his shoe for a moment but found nothing.  He returned and
knelt beside Alyson.
 
     "I'll carry her," he said, scooping her into his arms.  "I
need hot water--as hot as she can stand.  Maybe a pint for now
but also put on the larger pot to heat for later."
 
     Color drained from Mary's tanned face.  She started running
back to the cabin.  "Fish or shell?" she called over her
shoulder.
 
     "Fish, I think."  He moved as quickly as he could without
dropping the screaming girl while Mary raced on ahead.  He wasn't
a religious man, but he thanked every deity he could name that
he'd married a woman who was able to control her motherly
emotions and who could both think and act in an emergency.  Even
when she guessed what had probably happened, she kept her head. 
She'd seen her share of life-threatening emergencies while on
research expeditions, but this was her daughter, and still she
kept a cool head even though her guts had to be in the same icy
knots as his own.
 
     He'd certainly seen his share of children in pain, but this
was Alyson, his Pixie, and her cries for him to stop the pain
were shredding his soul.  You'd think years of medical school and
pediatric practice would inure him somewhat and that he'd operate
on autopilot, but putting one foot in front of the other now
required conscious effort.
 
     Alyson's stomach heaved again as he reached the door, but
she had already emptied it.  He turned sideways and eased her
through the door.
 
     "Couch," Mary said, emerging from the bedroom with his
medical kit.   She placed it on a crate used as an end table and
opened it.  "There's only four," she said, her voice quavering,
as she removed a morphine injector.
 
     "It will have to do, Mare," he said as he lowered Alyson. 
"I didn't plan on being shipwrecked."
 
     Mary comforted her screaming daughter as best she could
while he injected her and then removed tweezers and a small
magnifying glass from the kit.  He tried to immobilize her foot
long enough to check the wound and was about to ask Mary for help
when Alyson suddenly heaved again and then went still.
 
     "_DOUG!_"
 
     He gave the girl a quick check.  "She fainted.  Maybe she'll
stay out until the morphine kicks in.  Are you okay?"
 
     "No."  She wiped her eyes with the back of a hand.  "But
I'll manage.  I'll see to the water.  I haven't put the large one
on yet."
 
     Doug gave her a grim smile.  He wanted to hold her, to
comfort her, to tell her that their daughter would be fine.  But
Mary had been in these waters before and already knew better. 
And he had a patient to treat.  Mary bent to kiss him before
crossing to the kitchen and returning with a folding chair.  She
kissed him again and left a hand on his shoulder for a moment, a
plea in her brimming eyes, before returning to the stove.
 
     The porch roof now blocked the rising sun from entering the
room.  He fished a small flashlight from the kit, turned it on,
and sat in the chair, placing her foot on his knees.  He held the
flashlight in his mouth, lifted the foot, and examined the wound
through the magnifying glass.  He switched the magnifying glass
for the tweezers and removed a dorsal fin spine from the wound,
then switched back to the lens.  A second puncture wound had gone
unnoticed four millimeters from the one with the protruding
spine.  She had received a double shot of venom.  The second
wound appeared to have no broken spine in it, but the area around
the wounds was red and swelling rapidly.
 
     He moved the lens over the extracted spine.  _Intact._  He
had removed all of it.  He put away the equipment and checked
Alyson's pulse.  His diving watch was in the bedroom, but there
was no question that her pulse was rapid and felt strange.  He
reached for the stethoscope, snapped the earpieces in his ears,
and placed the pickup between the small, tanned, upright cones. 
He listened for a moment.  Minor arrhythmia had already begun. 
The only good news he could think of was that she'd had a tetanus
shot two years earlier.  Small comfort, that.  He removed the
stethoscope from his ears and let it hang by the earpieces around
his neck.
 
     Mary's quiet sobs stole into his thoughts, making it harder
for him to maintain his professional attitude as he cleaned the
wound with alcohol and a swab.  His vision blurred, and hot tears
rolled down his cheeks.  He should have warned her to wear her
shoes while wading, but none of the three wore them.  He didn't
think the risk was great enough.  He didn't know those fish
inhabited these waters, or that they would be in the sand away
from the rocks.  Unless it was a dying one that had washed up
near shore.  He thought about that to get his mind away from the
real issue for the moment.
 
     Mary approached unnoticed.  She put the hot water and a
clean cloth on the floor at Doug's feet.  "Do you think this will
help if she's already unconscious?" she asked as she sat on the
edge by Alyson's head.
 
     He shrugged.  "Can't hurt.  Well, I didn't mean the pun. 
God _damn_ it!  I wish I had some antivenin."
 
     "Maybe the heat will...."  She shot to her feet.  "Papain!"
 
     Doug frowned at her.
 
     "Papain.  Meat tenderizer can relieve mosquito bites and bee
stings by breaking down the injected proteins.  It's papain.  You
use it for psoriasis and removing dead tissue and...."
 
     "I know what it does."  He regretted the harsh tone but said
nothing more, letting her speak.
 
     "There are green fruit on some of the papaya trees.  What if
we use the papain from the latex on her foot?  Would it help
break down the proteins in the venom?"
 
     Doug looked at the small foot resting on his knees.  "Well,
I--what the hell?  The worst it can do is remove the tissue
around the wound when it starts necrotizing."
 
     Mary grabbed the shopping bag with her tree climbing gear. 
"It's about a quarter-mile to the papaya trees.  I won't be gone
long."
 
     "Mare, watch out.  I can't care for her alone if you injure
yourself."  That wasn't exactly true, but he didn't need two
patients, and the idea of increased risk to her daughter might
cause Mary to be a little more cautious.
 
     "I'll be careful."  She raced out the door.  Doug wondered
just how Mary would define "careful."
 
     He tested the water.  It was uncomfortably hot but not
enough to burn.  He dipped the cloth in it and wrapped it around
the injured foot.  The heat would help make the pain bearable,
and maybe it would help dissipate the venom.  He wasn't sure that
the papain would help given the depth of the venom injection, but
Mary needed some hope.  And, if he could get the papaya latex
into the wound, maybe it could help destroy some of the venom.
 
     He held the hot cloth in place, looking with blurred vision
at the toes peeking out from the wet bandage.  He lifted the foot
and kissed each one.  When was the last time he'd done that? 
_When she was a baby_, he supposed.  "Pixie, I'm doing all I can
for you, but you'll have to help," he whispered.  "Hear me?  You
have to help.  I can't do it alone."
 
     She convulsed with another attempt at vomiting.  He wiped
his eyes and listened to her breathe.  No apparent aspiration of
what little fluid was in her stomach.  He had to turn her on her
side in case she wasn't so lucky the next time.  When that was
done he reached for the stethoscope.  Lungs were clear, the heart
arrhythmia....  Was it worse, or was his imagination working
overtime?  He moved the pickup and listened.  And again.  And
again, trying to memorize the sound for later comparison.  Modern
medicine, he decided, made doctors too dependent on graphs and
displays and read-outs and too removed from their own senses. 
His great-grandfather could differentiate diphtheria from
whooping cough halfway from the door to the patient's bed based
solely on the smell in the air.
 
     He slowly became aware that the edge of his hand was resting
against her left breast and yanked his hand back.  _What if Mary
had seen that?  She might think I was fondling Aly when she
wasn't around, even though I haven't.  She'd know for sure that
I'd fondled some patients.  Especially Tiffany, that sexy little
bitch who just had to mention to her mother that she'd had a
pelvic exam during her physical.  Mare will tell Hodgson, divorce
me, take Aly away, and let me lose my license, all out of spite
because I never told her about the investigation.  And she'll
probably marry that old fool as thanks for telling her about the
investigation.  I should have listened through Alyson's back, and
by damn! that's what I'll do from now on_.
 
     "I'm sorry I touched your breast," he whispered to her
unconscious form.  "I didn't mean to."  _What if Mare had seen
that?  How could you have been so thoughtless?_
 
     He sat back and felt the cloth.  It was cooling.  He dipped
it in the hot water, wrung it lightly, and wrapped the foot
again.  He used one hand to help trap the heat and stroked her
ankle and calf with the other, whispering words of encouragement. 
He suddenly realized that his attempt at comfort could also be
misconstrued as fondling and moved that hand to also help contain
the heat of the cloth.  _How could you have been so thoughtless? 
Watch what the hell you're doing with your hands!  Mare wants to
marry Hodgson, and you're going to give her to him gift-wrapped._
 
     He was removing hot water from the large pot when Mary
returned.  While he told her that the situation was unchanged she
removed one green papaya fruit from the bag and put it on the
kitchen table.  With her belt knife she scored the skin and
watched the white latex ooze forth.  "Teaspoon," she said, and he
handed her one.  When she had collected several drops she said,
"Another one," and swapped with him.  He took the first to Aly.
 
     Swelling had closed the wound.  He spread the sap over the
swelling while he thought.  When he was finished he took the
morphine syringe and spoon to the stove.  He rinsed the spoon in
the hot water and handed it to her.  "Get me some clean sap," he
said.  "Don't scrape the outside of the fruit with the spoon. 
I'm going to inject it into the wound.  Let's try to avoid
secondary infection."
 
     "Take another fruit and rinse it first," she said, "but I
don't think secondary infection would be a problem."
 
     She let the latex drip in the spoon while Doug cleaned the
syringe.  It seemed to take forever, and she twice brushed a tear
away on her shoulder.  Neither said anything.  Both knew it was a
gamble.  Neither wanted to risk not trying, especially Doug.  Aly
was the only thing that would keep him from losing Mare to that
bastard Hodgson.  Doug checked on Alyson when she again
dry-heaved.  Her pulse seemed fainter, the arrhythmia more
pronounced.  He kissed her forehead and whispered for her to keep
fighting.
 
     Alyson opened her eyes, looked at him, smiled weakly, and
closed them again.
 
                              *****
 
     Doug replaced the plastic over the wound and wrapped the
swollen foot with the hot bandage.  The plastic kept the water
from removing the latex.  Mary had washed the few late-lunch
dishes and returned to take the water container for a hot refill.
He looked up into Mary's anxious eyes.  "Some necrosis around the
wound, but the papain is dissolving the dead tissue.  Her
breathing is erratic, heart arrhythmia is slowly increasing, the
body tremors are beginning, but she's quit trying to vomit.  I
wish to hell I knew if that last is a good sign in light of the
others."
 
     Mary nodded and turned to take the water container to the
stove for a refill.  He looked at Alyson and was startled to see
her looking back at him, quietly crying.  "I'm not going to make
it, am I?" she sobbed.
 
     His first instinct was to tell her everything would be okay. 
She would know he was lying and wouldn't trust him after that. 
He had to tell her the truth, but how much?
 
     "Sweetheart, I...." The buzzing noise high outside finally
penetrated his consciousness.  He bolted for the door.  A small
twin-engine plane was up and to the north.  He raced to the
signal pyre, tore away the cover, doused it with generator fuel,
and grabbed Welch's lighter.  He struck it aflame and shoved it
into the signal fire, ignoring the small starter torches because
there wasn't time.  The fuel roared to life, singeing the hair
from his arm and igniting the rest of the pyre.  Flame and white
smoke boiled forth.  He had the signal mirror out in an instant.
 
     At first he thought he'd been too late, but the plane banked
left and began descending.  It stopped turning when it was on
line with him.  It overflew him, turned over the sea, and began a
return path.  _No pontoons_, he noted.  _Just wheels.  It can't
land_.
 
     Doug stood by the SOS in the sand.  When he was certain he
could be clearly seen he grabbed his chest, fell over, and rose
to his knees, pointing to the cabin, where Mary stood on the
porch, watching.  The plane banked as it reached him, circled
over the lagoon briefly, and then headed toward him again.
 
     Something dropped from the plane, a flutter of bright yellow
cloth marking its descent.  It landed near the outhouse.  The
plane circled while he fetched it.  It was a soft-drink can with
masking tape holding a signal flag to it.  On the tape was
writing:
 
     "U HAVE MED EMERG?  1 YES, 2 NO"
 
     Doug raced to the SOS and scratched a large "1" in the sand
beside it.
 
     The plane circled the lagoon for another three minutes, then
returned and dropped another can.
 
     "S/R COMING. LO ON GAS. GD LUK."
 
     Doug waved.  The plane waggled its wings and began climbing
to the northwest.
 
     "Mare!  They notified Search and Rescue.  They're coming."
 
     Mary looked relieved.  "I guess your uniform helped after
all.  I was afraid they wouldn't believe you."
 
     "Uniform?"  Doug looked down.  He'd forgotten he was naked. 
"Let's tell Alyson."
 
                              *****
 
     Doug knelt beside his weeping daughter.  "Pixie, Search and
Rescue is coming.  You just hang in there, okay?"
 
     Her narrow eyes reflected overwhelming sadness.  "My stomach
hurts," she said, and then heaved up a small amount of liquid
into a plastic bowl.  Doug wiped her mouth.  Her body shook and
she gasped for air.  "I don't want to leave you alone," she said.
 
     "Honey, we don't want you to leave us," Mary said, her
throat choking on the words.  "You have to hold on until they
arrive. Okay?"
 
     "I don't know."  Alyson heaved again.  "I'll try."  She
closed her eyes and fell asleep.
 
     Doug patted Mary's shoulder.  "We better dress now, while we
have time."
 
     _Search and Rescue has to make it on time.  They have to! 
Without Alyson, I'm going to lose everything, not that I'd want
to live without her anyway._
 
                              *****
 
     Alyson's eyes opened.  "I'm sorry," she said.
 
     Doug turned from staring out the door and Mary, who had been
half-dozing with Alyson's head in her lap, looked down.
 
     "Don't be sorry, honey, " Mary said.  "It was an accident. 
It wasn't your fault."
 
     "I mean I'm sorry I'm going to leave you alone."
 
     Doug knelt beside her and took her hand while Mary took the
other one.  "Don't say that, Pixie.  They should be here soon."
 
     "But I know.  I don't know how I know, but I do.  I'm so
sorry that I'm going to leave you alone, and I'm sorry that I'm
going to be without you now."  She dry heaved again and fought to
regain her breath.  "It's almost time.  Honest!"
 
     Mary tried to argue.  When he'd been in medical school, Doug
had seen too many patients who knew when the moment was near. 
"I'm sorry it had to be like this, Pixie.  I wanted you to have a
long, full life, full of all kinds of happiness."  He wiped his
eyes.  "I'm so sorry that you're going to miss out on so much."
 
     Mary's eyes blazed at him.  "_Don't tell her that!_  Honey,
it's going to be okay.  Just hold on a little longer.  Please!"
 
     Alyson gasped for air.  "Thank you for trying to make me
feel better, but," she gasped for air again, "but don't pretend. 
Please?  I had... I had a fun life, better than lots of kids
could ever hope for.  I got only... only two regrets."
 
     Doug forced the word through his constricted throat. 
"What?"
 
     "I'm sorry that I'll leave you alone, and that I'll never,
um, I'll never get to know what, um...."  She looked at her
mother with sad eyes.  "You know."
 
     For a moment Mary was lost.  Then:  "What it's like to be a
woman?"
 
     Alyson sobbed and nodded.
 
     Mary's voice grew excited, as if she had found a way to
delay the inevitable.  "Would you like to find out while there's
still time?'
 
     Alyson looked at her father and then her mother with a faint
smile.  "Can I?" she whispered.
 
     While Mary cried and nodded assent, Doug suddenly
understood.  "MARY!"
 
     Mary's face grew as violent as the storm that had stranded
them.  "It may give her reason to hold on longer.  And if not,
it's your daughter's last wish and, by damn, you _will_ grant
it."  Her eyes added the unspoken, "Or else you lose me, too." 
But that look was unnecessary.  _If Aly dies, she will tell
Hodgson what he wants to hear even if she has to make it up, and
then she's going to run off with the incompetent bastard just to
punish me for failing to save her daughter.  She wants to marry
him anyway if Aly lives, so she'll damned sure do so for spite
when Aly dies.  She wants to make me suffer, and she's going to
do so either way.
 
     I might as well do it.  Maybe it will keep Aly alive just
long enough.  Search and Rescue's team will know what I did.  It
will be obvious to their doctor in only a few moments, but it
won't matter.  The main thing is that Aly might live.  They'll
haul my ass off to prison with the help of Mary, Hodgson, and,
yes, myself.  But Aly might live.  Nothing is more important than
her living.  They'll teach her to hate me while I'm in prison,
but she'll be alive.  I can live with prison if Alyson lives. 
Mare would have to share some of my possessions if I just lost my
license, but if I'm in prison, she and Hodgson can have it all. 
But I can live with that if Alyson lives._
 
     As Doug removed his shorts he worried that performance
anxiety would prevent an erection if the dire circumstances did
not.  Silently cursing himself for giving in to his secret
weakness, even though it might help Alyson, he eased Alyson's
white shorts over her hips and down her legs, putting them on the
table crate with his own.  Mary's eyes flicked from his to the
heart-shaped curls and back.  _She's waiting for me to convict
myself._  Doug dipped his head and kissed the thatch.  Alyson
parted her legs.  Her musky aroma began inflating his wretched
tool, almost against his will.
 
     He kissed his daughter's slit and felt her shudder, a
movement distinctly different from the chill tremors which had
been racing through her body, as he ran his tongue along her slit
and then pressed it into the hot, moist folds.  Alyson was
already wet and growing wetter, something he thought was
impossible under the medical circumstances.  He toyed with her
button for a moment and then withdrew his tongue.
 
     Lust temporarily replaced the nausea in her face.  "That was
great!" she murmured.
 
     Mary reached for his growing member and pumped it expertly. 
_Helping put the key in the prison door because I'm not putting
it there fast enough_, he thought.  It was fully erect in
seconds.  His emotions flickered between anticipation and
disgust, the latter directed at himself because of the former.
 
     Alyson dry heaved and gasped again.
 
     Doug placed the head in the entrance of her tunnel, then
slowly eased it inward.  He realized that some of the heat he
felt was fever, but she was as tight and as warm and as wet as
Mary had been the first time he did it to her.  He was surprised
that she could lubricate with her fever.  When his pubic bone
crushed against hers and his balls felt the heat of her
bubble-butt he asked, "Are you okay?  It's in now."
 
     "Ohmigod!" she gasped.  "Oh, Daddy, I wish we'd done this
sooner.  It's wonderful!  It doesn't hurt!"
 
     _Sooner!  Has Mary talked Aly into helping Hodgson and her
with their scheme?  No.  Aly had met Hodgson and didn't care for
him.  Unless it was an act.  Or unless Mare has somehow converted
Aly's opinion of the man.  She'd have to do so before she ran off
with the bastard.  She might have converted Aly's opinion, but
she'd never have turned Aly against me.  Aly's the one true
friend I have in this world because I never touched her like I
did the others.  She's sick with the poison and doesn't know what
she's saying.  She'd never say that if it weren't for the poison. 
Mare's little scheme would have backfired!  So she's using her
dying daughter to make it work because she knows it would have
backfired anyway!  That bitch!_
 
     He began slicing in-and-out of his daughter's slick tunnel. 
He knew Alyson usually came quickly when she masturbated.  He
hoped she would peak soon because he was disgusted with himself
for two reasons:  one, because of what he was doing to his own
daughter, and two, because the tightening deep between his boner
and balls told him he was enjoying it and would soon cum himself.
 
     _What the hell?  I've already convicted myself and given
this conniving bitch to Hodgson on a platinum platter.  I'm going
to be convicted of raping my dying daughter and Mare's going to
tell them it was my idea and she couldn't stop me.  This will be
the last time I ever have sex with a female because I'm going to
die in prison.  Shouldn't I enjoy it if this is the last time?  I
can live with that if Alyson lives.  But if she dies...._
 
     Alyson's free hand shot behind his neck and pulled his head
downward.  She kissed him, hard, on his lips as her narrow eyes
squeezed shut and her body began shaking.  And then she came. 
The throbbing of her tight, hot sheath was enough to send him
over the edge.  He began slamming into her, fighting with himself
not to slam too hard, and then he gushed.
 
     When it was over his erection subsided immediately but
stayed within her body.  He forced himself to smile at her, which
was easy enough to do whenever he saw her looking at him, and
leave himself in place, though he wanted to withdraw his invading
member in self-hatred over the incriminating and convicting
incest he had committed.  _How could Mary have hated me enough to
force me into this, simply because I never told her about the
charges?  How could she have gone along with Hodgson?  How could
she have used her own daughter like that just to get back at me?_
 
     Alyson choked and gasped for a moment, then smiled, though
tears coursed down the side of her face.  "Now I have only one
regret.  Thank you, Daddy.  And thank you, Mom, for not telling."
 
     _"Not telling."  What had Mare been keeping from him?  What
had she done, brainwashed her own daughter?  It couldn't be true. 
Could it?_
 
     A convulsive dry heave caused her to clamp her vaginal
muscles and squeeze Doug from her body.  Doug knew he should be
relieved that the disgusting act was over and hated himself for
the momentary pang of regret.  Mary didn't notice the raging
glare he briefly directed her way as he sat on the floor beside
the couch to hide his disgusting member from his innocent
daughter's eyes.  _Aly was still innocent.  It was Mary's fault,
not Alyson's, that I defiled my own daughter.  Alyson is still
innocent, even if Mary isn't._
 
     _Even if I'm not._
 
     Alyson's voice was weak.  "Daddy, can I have my necklace?"
 
     He blinked.  "Of course."  He used the opportunity to pull
on his shorts, then brought the bright feather necklace to her. 
The sight of it momentarily chased away the sadness that had
crept back into her features.  Mary lifted Alyson's head while he
tied it around her neck.  He adjusted it on her chest, carefully
avoiding any contact with her body through her yellow seersucker
blouse.
 
     "Thank you," she whispered.  She gagged, then said, "Keep my
shell safe for me?"
 
     Mary sobbed around the words, "Of course we will, honey."
 
     Doug wondered if Mare meant that, or if she'd throw it away
just like she'd thrown her daughter away.
 
     Alyson gasped for air and then said, "I love you, Mom."  Her
face grew sad and puckered for a kiss.
 
     Afterward she puckered her lips, looked at Doug, and made
two weak grunts.  Blinded by his tears he lowered his lips to
hers.  "_MmmmmmmmMAH!_"
 
     Alyson gasped for air.  "G'night, Daddy.  I love you."
 
     Doug ran his index finger down the line of her wet jaw.  He
couldn't tell which tears were hers and which were his.
 
     Doug was barely able to force the words through his
constricted throat.  "G'night... Pixie.  I... I...  love you."
 
     Alyson smiled, almost happily.  She slowly closed her eyes
and struggled to inhale.
 
     She exhaled with a spasmodic cough.
 
     And struggled to inhale again, taking in a shallow breath.
 
     And exhaled...
 
     ...struggled for another breath...
 
     ...exhaled.
 
                              *****
 
     The rescue medic froze in the cabin doorway and threw an arm
out to stop the others.  He placed his equipment on the floor and
shook his head as he slowly moved into the living room, taking
great care to place his feet in the clear areas.  He noted the
fish spine and the open medical kits, glancing at the contents of
the latter without touching them.  He examined the girl's injured
foot, checked her eyes, and automatically felt for a carotid
pulse, though he knew it was too late.  He knew from the fish
spine on the table.  Again watching where he placed his feet he
checked the man, who was lying with his upper torso on the couch
and one arm draped over the girl, and woman lying on the floor a
few feet away.  He grunted, glanced about in bewilderment, and
reached for his radio.
 
     "Copter Four this is Medic Four.  Shut it down and notify
the authorities that we have a female, approximately fifteen, who
appears to have died from stepping on a venomous fish; one
female, approximately thirty-five to forty, with a knife
protruding from her back and the blade apparently through her
heart; and one male, approximately thirty-five to forty, who
apparently bled to death from the stump of his severed penis. 
The remainder of the organ appears to be inserted into the
woman's mouth.  We will secure the scene and search the immediate
area for any survivors."
 
                               END
 
Copyright Russell Hoisington 2004
 
  ************************************************************
 
     Those of us who write the stories you like to read have
received and continue to receive a lot of support from ASSTR (The
Alt Sex Stories Text Repository). The major service they provide
is archiving our stories to make them available to you, the
readers.  This is a non-profit organization and is staffed by
volunteers. The operation is costly and the only income they have
is from donations. I ask that you consider making a donation if
you have enjoyed my stories.  Your donation will help insure they
remain available for all to read at no cost. You can find out
about donating at this link:
 
               http://www.asstr-mirror.org/donations.html


Russell Hoisington
State of Confusion

Stories archived at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Hoisington/www
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Hoisington/
http://www.storiesonline.net



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