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From: "Samantha" <samanthak@fastmail.fm>
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Subject: {ASSM} Sam - Part 10  FF, MF, tort, exhib, size, viol)
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Date: Sun, 24 Sep 2006 06:10:01 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Sam - Part10.doc" begin>

Sam - Part 10

by Samantha K
(FF, MF, tort, exhib, size, viol)
[comments welcome: SamanthaK(at)fastmail.fm]

The next morning, I resisted the temptation to sneak into Bud's
room for my fix of male hormones.  If everything went as planned
we would have enough time for that later.  When I went down to
feed the dog, I thought about having another romp in the woods,
but I decided to pass on that as well.  Still, it had been so
much fun the day before that I just had to relive it just a bit.

After I filled Brute's bowls with fresh food and water, I slipped
out of my robe so I could enjoy the feeling of the cool morning
air on my body.  My nymph fantasy surfaced again and I left the
robe on the railing while I danced on the dewy grass for a bit.
Being naked outdoors felt marvelous.  It was different, and that
made it special.  The risk of being caught made it delightfully
naughty.   I could appreciate the urge that made Sara toss our
clothes out the window, even if it never would have occurred to
me to do it myself. 

As long as I was in the mood, I started in on some stretching
exercises that Master Li had shown us.  I mixed in some of the
things I used to do for cheerleading, as well.  After that I did
a few punches and kicks and finished off with the awareness and
balance stance.  When I finished, I felt really awake and alive
and full of energy.

I was just reaching for my robe, when I heard the door open and
someone come outside.  I waited when I heard a couple of scuffing
steps and then the faint sound of bare feet on grass.  When Bambi
came around the corner of the landscaping bed, I waved and she
walked up the slight rise to join me.

"Breakfast will be ready in a little while," she said.  "I'm
making the sausage and egg casserole again.  This time with
freshly-grated Romano.  I think it tastes better than that stuff
in the box.

"Thanks," I said.  She obviously hadn't come out just to tell me
that.

She looked at my nakedness and the robe in my hand and asked,
"Isn't it too cool to be walking around out here without your
robe on?"

"I've been working out.  Stretching and stuff.  I didn't want to
get grass stains on my robe.  Besides, it's nice out here when
you get used to it.  Try it!"

She hesitated briefly while she looked around.  The spot where we
were was screened by the bushes from any neighboring house, as
well as any of the windows of ours.  Bambi shrugged, then untied
her own silk robe and slipped it off.  I took it and laid it over
the rail with mine.  She raised her arms and pirouetted to let
the cool air bathe her body.

"Mmmmm.  You're right.  It is nice."  She started stretching her
arms over and behind her head.

"Here, try this."  I showed her some of the stretching techniques
I learned in the Kung Fu class.  She was more limber than I
expected and she was able to get into some of the positions with
only a little effort.

"Sam, I wanted to talk to you about last night."

"Yes?"

"I enjoyed that more than I can say.  I felt more at ease than I
have in a long time.  I know Bud certainly seemed more relaxed
and open and communicative than I can ever remember.  What did
you say to him to bring about such a big change?"

"I told him how much I cared about him and Jim and you.  I told
him you cared about him and wanted him to grow up well-adjusted.
I guess he took me literally.  I never suggested any specific
'adjustment'.  He figured that one out all on his own.  He also
explained something to me about my own motivation that made a lot
of sense.  I guess it was just his time for some enlightenment. 
He does seem much happier and open since then   doesn't he?"

"He certainly does.  And if the price for it is for him to treat
me more like a sister than a mother, then I am quite willing to
pay it.  I think it is a wonderful compliment that he thinks I
look and act like a teenager.  It makes me feel ten years
younger."

"I've never thought you looked your age.  If you wore the current
teen fashions and used less sophisticated makeup, I bet you could
pass for 18."

"Really?"

"Yep."  

I wasn't just being nice.  When we were talking the night before,
she seemed just as relaxed and open as Bud.  I couldn't tell if
she were actually trying to behave like 'one of the guys' or if
was just unconsciously behaving differently because of Bud
revising her role for her.  I wondered how much of our behavior
is influenced by how others see us and how they expect us to
behave.  I had already noticed that if you treat someone as a
friend, they will usually act like one and that if you treat
someone respectfully and courteously, they usually respond in
kind.  A lot of how I tried to act with strangers came from
this.

I showed her a couple more stretches and we did them together. 
We were doing back-bends when I noticed that there was someone on
the wooden stairs overlooking our secluded spot.

"Good morning, Bud.  How long have you been there?"  I asked.

Bambi stood up so fast her hair whipped over her face.  She
covered her groin with one hand and crossed an arm over her
breasts, which was a futile effort for her since not much could
be hidden behind an arm.

I wanted to giggle, but that wouldn't have been helpful. 
Instead, I mimicked Bambi and covered up.  The only difference
was that I tried to make it a sexy pose instead of a startled
one.  It worked.  When Bambi saw me pose, she followed suit,
bending a knee and pointing her toes.  

Bud said, "Not nearly long enough.  I'm sorry to disturb you.  I
just wondered where everybody was.  When I saw you out here, I
just had to stay and enjoy the show."

Bud's degree of enjoyment was pretty clear from the large bulge
in his shorts.  He had put of a pair of old, tight, cotton-knit
shorts to come to breakfast in and the outline of his cock was
easy to see, even in the dim morning light.  It looked like a
snake about to crawl down his leg.  A big snake.

"Well, the show is over," I said.  "Would you be a gentleman and
help us on with our robes?"

Bud got awkwardly to his feet.  When he stood up, his cock
strained against the thin fabric of his shorts.  The sight got my
blood going.  I heard Bambi take a sharp breath, so I know she
was looking at it too.

Bud apparently decided that if he got to look, then we deserved
the same courtesy, because he made no attempt to hide his
condition.  He seemed proud to have two naked girls stare at his
manhood.  

He happened to pick up my robe first.  He held it up and I
slipped my arms into it.  He wrapped it around me and pulled me
against him.  As he hugged me, he pressed his cock into the crack
of my ass and rubbed it up and down.  I clenched my butt-cheeks
on it as best I could until he stepped away and picked up Bambi's
robe.

I watched with interest as he did exactly the same thing to her.
The look on her face was marvelous.  After marking both of us
with his organ, he walked back up the steps toward the side door.
 "See you in a minute," he called.

When he had gone, Bambi said, "Is that how he usually treats
you?"

"Yeah.  I guess I encourage it."

"I never...I mean, I hadn't thought it through.  He's never had a
sister.  When he said he was more comfortable treating me like a
sister, I didn't realize that you were the example he would be
following."

"You said you'd pay the price," I reminded her.  "And you sure
didn't put up a fight.  In fact, you looked like you were
enjoying every second."

"Yes, well...I guess I was," she smiled.  "If you can put up with
it, I guess I can too.  It's for a good cause, and all."  Her
smile broke into a grin.

I couldn't resist yanking her chain.  I asked, "And what will you
do if he decides to bend you over the kitchen table and fuck you
silly?"

The idea apparently had a certain fascination for her.  She got a
vacant look in her eyes and kept saying, "oh, my" over and over
as we walked back to the house.

Apparently, Bud's treatment of us had been more calculated than
spontaneous.  When we sat down to breakfast   still without Jim,
who appeared to have taken up residence with the Morgans   Bud
wanted to discuss it.

"OK," he said, "I guess I should ask if I need to apologize."  He
glanced at me and then turned to look at Bambi, who blushed, but
stared down at her plate as she shook her head 'no'.

"Good," he continued, "Because I want you to know that I feel
like a big weight is off my back.  When we were talking last
night, I thought I had this thing sorted out in my head, but this
morning I realized that something was still bothering me."  

He took a deep breath before he went on.  He didn't seem upset,
but this was clearly something he was taking seriously.

"The biggest problem...MY biggest problem has been living in the
same house with an incredibly sexy female and trying not to feel
sexually attracted to her.  When you add a second incredibly sexy
female who doesn't mind at all if my dick tries to jump out of my
pants every time she walks into the room...well, it makes my head
hurt.  Both of them."  He smiled thinly at his little joke.

"Basically, I had to know if you were going to be offended or
uptight if I allowed myself to react to you the way my cock tells
me to.  I'm sorry for being so...graphic about it, but I feel a
lot better now.  I think I've finally adjusted to the
situation."

Bambi took her time responding.  She took a couple of sips of her
coffee while she decided what to say.

"Bud, I want you to know that I have never considered an erection
to be offensive, no matter whose it was   especially if it was on
my account.  I realize that this is something that men can't
consciously control and that makes it the most sincere of
compliments.  So, if I turn you on, don't be ashamed of it.  It
makes me feel good to know that I'm still desirable.  If you get
an erection because of me, I want to know it.  If you hug me and
there is a hard cock between us, I won't be offended.  But by the
same token, if I flirt with you or I need some 'special time'
with you, I hope you will be as understanding.  I have the same
kind of biological urges that you do and young studs with big
cocks get me turned on   sometimes to the point where it affects
my judgment.  So if I seem to be throwing myself at you, please
understand that one of us needs to be mature and draw the line
and it may not always be me."

I thought that was very well put.  She avoided any mention of
blame or definitions of inappropriate behavior and she even got
in a quid-pro-quo for herself, which I thought was a neat way of
shifting some of the responsibility for restraint back to Bud in
a much more palatable form.  This was going so well I decided to
put my two cents in too.

"And Bud?" I said.  "If you feel yourself getting so turned on
that you think you are going to explode, please feel free to
explode in me.  I'm not ashamed to say that I'm addicted to your
cock and I need a regular fix."

Bud smiled, Bambi smiled, and I smiled.  We all seemed to be
satisfied with the new understanding.  I suspected that nothing
much would change except that Bud would be happier and he and
Bambi would find some new facets of their relationship. 
Basically, they had just agreed to accept each other 'as is' and
not to worry about repressing or hiding their sexuality.  That
had to be a healthier situation for everyone.  Besides, if Bambi
had the urge to drive Bud wild, I would most likely be the one to
benefit.

Judging from the looks going around the table, we were all
looking forward to being able to express our sexuality without
having to worry about offending someone else.  It was also pretty
clear that the discussion itself had been something of a turn-on.
 I know my imagination was running hot and from the distracted
look in Bambi's eyes and the way she kept tugging her robe to
make it rub her nipples, she was getting warm as well.

We had all finished eating, and when I got up to carry my plate
to the kitchen, the others did too.  Bud seemed to be having
trouble getting out of his chair, but it wasn't clear why until
he stood up holding his plate.  The conversation had affected
him, too.  His cock was so hard it was stretching the old ratty
pair of shorts he had on.

As he stood, there was a ripping noise and the inseam of his
shorts surrendered to the pressure.  Bambi and I watched in awe
as his hard cock sprang free, waving and bouncing in front of
him.

As entranced as I was at the sight of the instrument that had
given me so much pleasure, Bambi was stunned into immobility by
the sight.  For a long moment, no one moved, then I carefully put
my plate down and stepped over to Bud and took his plate and set
it back on the table.

"Looks like we have a problem here after all," I said, putting my
hand around his cock as far as it would go and slowly stroking
it.  "We can't let you go to school like this.  You would drive
all the girls crazy and no one would be able to get an education.
 It looks like someone needs to perform a public service to make
sure the people's tax dollars are not wasted."

I dropped my robe and crawled up onto the sturdy oak table.  I
braced myself on my forearms, spread my knees, held my rear end
out over the edge of the table, and generally assumed the
position.  Bud stood behind me and started working the head of
his cock into my pussy.  Bambi remained in her frozen state, her
eyes riveted on the cock that was slowly disappearing into my
willing hole.

With every inch of cock that he pushed into me, I got more and
more aroused.  When he was only half-way in I couldn't help
myself, I let out a moan that told everyone I had a pussy full of
cock and I loved it.  Hearing myself gave me an idea.  I reached
out to Bambi, who snapped out of her trance and took my hand. 
Now that she had a physical connection to the scene, she became
more animated.  She leaned over me and stroked my hair.  I turned
my face so she could see my expression as Bud started working his
cock around to get me loose enough to fuck.

When he pulled back to check the amount of resistance, I had a
great idea.  I looked right at Bambi and said, "Even though he's
fucked me a few times, his cock is so big he still has to get me
loosened up.  It feels really good to be stretched out so
completely around that big cock, but if he tries to pull out
before I get loose, it's like he's turning me inside out."

The look on her face was everything I could have asked for.  She
was obviously tremendously turned on by watching us.  Having me
add a running commentary was going to blow her mind.

"He can't start fucking until he gets me reamed out enough to let
my juices soak his cock.  Otherwise he just pushes me around. 
He's almost got it now.  I can feel my pussy sliding over his
cock.  Oh, it feels so good.  I can feel it rubbing the inside of
my pussy and it's making me crazy.  This is where I know I can't
stop until I cum.  He's got me so hot that nothing can get me off
that big cock until it makes me cum."

Bud started working back and forth now that I had relaxed enough
for him to move.  He slowly worked up to full fucking speed and I
arched my back and pushed myself off the table far enough to let
my breasts hang free.

"He's fucking me good now.  See my boobs bounce when he rams that
thing into me?  He's moving my insides around, too.  It's not
quite deep enough to reach my womb, yet, but every stroke feels
like he's moving things around to make room for it.  See how big
my nipples get when he fucks me?  They're much more sensitive
when they're this big and stiff."

I pulled her hand to my chest and put it over the end of my
breast.

"Feel how hard it is?"  She cupped her hand over my nipple and
let me feel the warmth.

"That's wonderful!  Your hand feels so hot on my breast."

I noticed that Bambi had found a use for her other hand, too. 
She had pulled open her robe and she had a breast in each hand,
one mine and one hers.  She was going to try to live the
experience through me.

Bud had reached his stride.  He was pulling almost all the way
out and pushing all the way in on each stroke.

"He's going good now.  Oh, he's fucking me so good I can hardly
stand it.  Hear that slapping sound?  That's his balls hitting my
clit.  Every time that happens it feels like a little orgasm runs
up my spine to my nipples.  This is my favorite part.  Aside from
the orgasm, I mean.  This feels so good, I could just do this
forever.  But I can't.  In a minute I'll be so hot that my pussy
will start grabbing his cock by itself.  It will try to get him
to cum in me so it can have all that sweet cum inside it.  When
he makes me cum, my pussy just takes over completely."

Bud had the rhythm now.  I could feel my clit swell and harden.

"Every time he pushes that big cock into me, it feels like he's
pumping me up like a balloon.  My head just gets lighter.  My
nipples get bigger.  But especially my clit gets big and hard. 
It gets so big that it feels like it's going to explode.  It's
pretty big right now.  I can feel it wiggling around like a
little cock, looking for a pussy to fuck.  This must be what it's
like for a boy with a hard-on.  I just want to ram my clit into
something hot and wet and fuck the hell out of it."

Bambi had transferred her hand from her breast to her pussy.  She
was watching us intently while she fucked herself with her own
fingers.  I could see the juice running all over her hand as she
shoved it deep into her pussy every time Bud shoved his cock into
me.

I lowered myself down onto the tabletop until my breasts were
brushing against the linen tablecloth each time Bud thrust into
me.  The extra stimulation made me wildly hot and I started
wanting to cum very badly.

"Oooooh!  He's making me so hot.  I have to cum!  I need to cum!
Oh, God!  Fuck me!  Make me cum!  Fuck me harder!"

Bud started fucking faster and harder.  He was slamming into me
so hard that my breasts started to wobble up and down over the
table, dragging them across the linen tablecloth.

"Oh, yes!  He's going deeper now.  I can feel the end of his cock
hitting my cervix.  When he does that it makes it open up for
him.  He's opening me up so he can fill my womb with his cum.  I
can feel it getting wider, trying to open up to swallow his cum.

"I'm burning up!  My clit is on fire.  My nipples are hurting
from hitting the table.  My pussy is starting to spasm.  I can't
keep it from grabbing his cock.  I'm losing control.  I'm going
to cum.

"Harder!  Fuck me harder!  I can feel it.  I can feel my climax
starting.  Oh, yes!  Here it comes!  Here it comes!  OH!  I'm
cumming!  I'mmmmmmmAAAAAAHHHH!"

Bud slammed his cock into me hard and held my hips while he
pushed into me as deep as he could get.  My pussy went nuts on
his cock, grabbing and sucking him.  I tilted my hips to get his
cock lined up and I arched my back like I was being electrocuted.
 We held this position for a long time.  My orgasm peaked.  Then
his cock erupted into me and I felt a torrent of hot cum flooding
my womb.  My orgasm soared again and I felt the triumph of
receiving enough cum to impregnate an entire scout troop.  I
wanted to scream but I couldn't because I had already and I
hadn't inhaled yet.  I took a deep breath.

"YESSSS!  He's pumping me full of cum.  He's emptying his big
balls into me.  It's amazing how he can just go on and on.  I can
feel it inside me.  It feels like he's scalding me in there."

I opened my eyes, which I hadn't noticed were closed.  I looked
over at Bambi.  She had collapsed into her chair.  She lay
slumped with both hands over her pussy.  Her whole body was
twitching.  She must have cum when I did.

Bud held onto me tightly, trying to get every last drop of his
cum into me.  I felt my cervix close behind his last spurt,
trapping his cum in my womb.  He shuddered, then he let go and
leaned over on top of me.  He wrapped his arms around me, grabbed
my breasts, then he picked me up off the table and hugged me
against him.  He held me so tightly that my toes weren't even
touching the floor.  My breasts were pointing up at different
corners of the ceiling, the nipples swollen hugely and bright red
from being rubbed and slapped on the table.

"Bambi, look."  She was too far-gone into her own climax to open
her eyes, but I wanted her to see this.

"MOM!"  Her eyes snapped open at that. "Look, you can see the
outline of his cock inside my tummy."  Her jaw dropped as she
focused on my abdomen and realized that it was true, she could
easily make out Bud's cock where it was lodged deep inside me.

Bud turned me so she could get a better look.  Fascinated, she
leaned over and traced the bulge with her fingers.

"See how his cock stretches my pussy?  It feels like I'm
stretched thin all around his cock."

Bambi leaned over to look and I spread my legs wider and tried to
tilt my hips, but I was too tightly wedged onto Bud's cock to be
able to move.  I felt her hot breath on my swollen clit as she
looked at where Bud and I were joined.

Bud bent his knees and lowered me to the floor until I was able
to stand on my feet again.  I bent over so he could start to work
his cock out of me.  As I did, I threw my arms around Bambi's
shoulders and whimpered into her ear as Bud pulled and tugged,
trying to separate us.  Time was running short, and we couldn't
wait for nature to take its course.  We had to pry ourselves
apart and get to school.

Bambi held onto me as Bud backed slowly away.  His cock felt so
good as he dragged it out of my pussy that I had another climax
right then.  When I squealed, Bambi hugged me tighter, giving me
support and sharing in my pleasure.

When Bud finally had his cock free, I turned around and licked
and sucked it until I had got off all his cream and my juices.  

Bud and I grabbed up our clothes and headed upstairs to grab a
fast shower and get dressed.  When we dashed back downstairs,
Bambi was waiting with her car keys in her hand.  She had traded
her robe for a short sundress and washed her face, but hadn't had
time to reapply her makeup.  Without it, she looked even younger
than usual.  The veneer of sophistication she applied actually
added several years to her apparent age.

"Come on," she said, "I'll drive you to school.  We don't want
you to be late."

We dashed out to the car and piled in.  Bambi drove quickly and
we arrived in plenty of time, after all.  When we were waiting in
line to pull up at the drop-off point, she said, "Bud, your
father would be very proud of you.  You are just like he was.  We
named you well."

"Thanks, Mom.  That's good to hear."

My look of puzzlement must have been obvious.  Bud explained,
"Bud is just a nickname.  My real name is Benjamin Reynolds,
Junior.  Please don't call me Junior.  Please don't tell anyone
I'm a Junior.  I'd rather be Bud, but one day I'll be Ben."

"You can be Ben anytime you want, honey," Bambi told him.  "I
won't mind at all."

"Not just yet," he said, "but I feel closer to it, now.  One
day...."

We both kissed Bambi goodbye and got out in the safety zone.  We
waved as she drove off.

Jim and Neeka were already there, waiting for us.

"Well!" I said.  "What have you two been up to?"

Neeka blushed.  "It's called 'bundling'," she said.  "It's an old
courting tradition.  Basically, you're both supposed to get into
bed with all your clothes on.  Then you sleep together, but no
touching and no sex."

"Right," Bud said.  "And the point of this is?"

"It helps you to get to know the other person better."

"So you two slept in your clothes last night.  Wasn't that
uncomfortable?"

"No, he actually wore pajamas and I wore a nightgown.  We
followed the spirit of the thing, not the letter."

Bud nodded.  He took Jim aside for a private conversation while I
talked to Neeka.

I asked, "What does your mother think of this?"

"She was all for it.  She thinks this whole retro-dating idea is
very romantic."

"And she was OK with you two sleeping together?"

"Sure.  Sam, my mother knows I have sex, when, and with whom.  I
tell her about it every time.  When I told her we wanted to spend
the night in my room, she was OK with that.  When we told her we
weren't going to have sex, she was surprised."

"And you picked your room to do this in so you wouldn't have us
breathing down your necks."

"Something like that.  We just wanted to be alone.  That was
easier to do at my house than yours."

"And did you learn anything?"

"Yeah.  We learned that when you can't have something, you want
it more than ever.  We had a hard time getting to sleep."

"I can believe that.  Are you two having fun with this?"

"I agree with Mom.  It's just so romantic that I want to cry. 
Jim is terribly sweet.  I think he takes after his mother and Bud
is more like his father."

"So it seems."  I filled her in with a mental rerun of the
morning's events.

"Wow!  That's one way to resolve an Oedipus complex."

"A what?"

"It's a psychological term Freud invented.  It means a boy that
is attracted to his mother and competes with his father for her
attention.  Of course, Bud can't compete with his father so the
normal resolution isn't possible.  If he has come to terms with
his sexual attraction to his mother by transferring it to you and
treating her like his sister, it sounds like a win-win for
everyone."

"I wish you'd been around yesterday.  We had to work it out for
ourselves without the subtitles."

"Still, it sounds like everyone is happier now.  Bud can allow
himself to be sexually attracted to his mother without feeling
guilt.  She can flirt and be as sexy as she likes without having
to worry about the effect on him.  And you get great sex and
gratitude from everyone for solving their problem.  How do you do
that?"

"Just lucky, I guess.  But my question now is, how will Jim take
this?  Does he have the same problem?"

"I think he does, but not as bad as Bud.  We haven't talked about
it, but this whole 'putting sex aside' idea of his could be his
way of dealing with it.  If you don't have sex, sex is not an
issue."

I tried not to look over at Jim and Bud, but it was hard.  I
asked, "How do you think Jim will react to Bud's solution?"

"Pretty much the way Bud did.  Only Jim will probably turn to
someone else to satisfy his sexual needs while he treats his
mother like a platonic girlfriend."

"And that would be you."

"That will almost certainly be me.  Thanks.  I'm going to be
screwed every time Mrs. Reynolds wears a sexy dress or lets her
breasts fall out of her blouse.  Which is about every three hours
as I've noticed."

"Sorry.  I've messed up your flirtation with abstinence."

"Don't be.  I knew it couldn't last long.  Especially not after
last night.  We were both about to rip each others clothes off by
morning.  He's been looking at me like he wants to rape me ever
since we got up.  It's driving me crazy.  I want him to screw my
brains out, but I can't say anything because it would spoil his
romantic notion of having an old-fashioned courtship.  It's
awfully sweet, but if I don't get fucked pretty soon, I'm going
to die."

"Poor Neeka.  What can I do?"

"Hold my clothes and don't let them turn the hose on us until I
cum.  But let's see how Jim takes the news, first.  Here they
come."

Jim and Bud rejoined us.  Jim looked uncomfortable.

"Sam, did Mom really agree to this.  Did she seem OK with the
idea?"

"Yes, she did.  In fact, she loves the idea of being treated like
a girl again.  Now that you two are grown, she would like to be
more of a friend than a parent.  She never provided much
discipline anyway that I can see.  But, I think you are both past
that stage now.  If not, I will be happy to give you a whipping
whenever you need it."

They both knew perfectly well that I was willing and certainly
able to apply whatever form of corporal punishment was required.
I had already put them on notice that I wasn't having any
spoiled-brat behavior from them.  For all practical purposes, I
had taken over the role of Mother in their lives.  This freed
Bambi to be their friend or sister, whichever they felt more
comfortable with.

Jim thought it over.  He was a year older than his brother, and
he might have a harder time making the mental adjustment to a new
status quo.  While he turned it over in his head, I saw a smile
on his lips.

"OK," he said. "I'll give it a try.  It sounds strange, but, if
she's willing to try it, I am.  It will be hard to change, but I
can see it will be a real load off to not have to look away every
time she walks by practically naked.  Sam, you've already helped
a lot just by being there.  We've been able to relax around you.
Before, we always had to censor what we thought and what we said
and we felt guilty anyway for even thinking it. 

"Hell, I can't believe I'm standing here talking about this
stuff.  I would have died of embarrassment before.    It feels
good to get this stuff out in the open and deal with it instead
of pretending it's not a problem."

When he finished, he seemed to be standing a bit straighter and
smiling bit wider than before.  

"Good!" I said.  "Then the next time she walks by you practically
naked, whistle.  Stamp your feet.  Clap.  Let her know that you
think she's sexy and attractive.  That's why she dresses that
way, after all.  Hey, that's why girls spend so much time on
clothes, hair, and makeup.  We all want to be appreciated.  If
she hears it from you two, she will appreciate it that much more.
 Trust me."

The bell rang and we had to run to our separate rooms before I
could think of a way to work Neeka's problem into the
conversation.  Hopefully, now that Jim didn't need to pretend
that abstinence was a virtue as a way of justifying his living in
denial, perhaps he would stop being so romantic and start being
more predatory.

In the meantime, I tried to console Neeka by sending her wave
after wave of love and mental hugs.  She returned each one and
added a few embellishments of her own.  I got so wrapped up in
our psychic love-fest that I missed answering the role and got
poked by the girl behind me to snap me out of it.  Still, it
reminded me that it had been too long since Neeka and I had
shared some quality time together.  I told her as much and she
reminded me that we would be together the whole weekend and
should have plenty of opportunities to sneak off and be alone.

My morning classes were spent taking weekly quizzes.  All of them
seemed suspiciously easy, and I went back over each one carefully
to check for trick questions.  When I didn't find any, I started
to wonder if my teachers were slacking off.  This stuff had
seemed much harder earlier in the year.

The solutions to the Algebra problems seemed self-evident.  Also,
they followed the format of the workbook exercises almost
exactly.  I kept wanting to add additional conditions to make it
more interesting.

Social Studies was just a big bore.  Remembering names and dates
and filling in the blanks was no fun at all.  The homework had
been much more interesting.  While reading the textbook, I had
tried to imagine what life was like for the people I read about.
I tried to picture me doing the things they did and I made up
little stories about their day-to-day lives.  My homework papers
had started to come back with marginal comments like "Good
Insight!" and "Keep up the good work" which was embarrassing
because all I had done was to try to make something I hated
interesting enough to be able to wade through it.  I couldn't see
how knowing the names of all the Czars was ever going to do me
any good later on.

The only thing that kept my attention in Social Studies was
watching Mr. Locke carefully enough to be able to let him have an
occasional peek down my blouse without making it obvious what we
were doing.  That alone kept me focused.  Otherwise I would have
drifted off and missed his reminders of the portions of the
material that he planned to include on the tests.

At lunch, I gulped down a granola bar and ran off to change into
my weightlifting uniform.  I toyed with the idea of trimming more
material off the already cropped t-shirt, or cutting the shorts
higher so my rear end would show, but I resisted the temptation.
Steve already thought I looked sexy in anything.  I didn't need
to be any more of a distraction than I already was.

Again, I was the last one to get to the weight room.  Steve
seemed happy to see me, but all the other guys just nodded and
got on with their workouts.  

Today it appeared I would be using a piece of equipment that I
had never tried before.  Since I had worked my upper body the day
before, today they put me on the leg curl/extension machine.  It
was a big frame with a bench that I could sit or lie on, with
padded braces to put my legs into and steel cables that ran to a
stack of weights behind the machine.

Lamont offered to get me started on it, which I thought was nice
of him since he had tried to break my fingers the first time we
met.  He had me sit down on the bench and put my legs between the
braces with my knees bent.  He explained that the idea was to
straighten my knees against the resistance of the weights and
then bend them again.  When I had done fifteen reps I was to turn
over and use the upper braces to lift the weights by bending my
knees.  This would work my thigh muscles front and back.

It looked pretty simple and I sat back against the small seat to
get started.  I should have known something was up by the way it
suddenly got quiet in the room, but I was trying to make sure I
was setup on the machine properly and didn't notice the heads
turning in my direction or the smirks on some of the faces until
it was too late.

When tried to straighten my knees against the pull of the cables,
it seemed a little heavy.  I put this down to the unfamiliar
equipment and that I had never isolated a group of muscles like
this before.  I pushed harder and straightened my legs all the
way and then let them bend again as the weights behind me slid
down the rails.

When I looked up at Lamont to see if I was doing it right, he had
the funniest expression on his face.  I did another rep and only
then noticed that everyone was looking at me.

"What?  Am I doing it wrong?" I asked.  When I got no answer I
did another rep.  It was hard, but I thought I could do the whole
set without cramping.  I looked back at Lamont.  He was looking
at the weight stack behind me.

Thinking there might be a mechanical problem; I looked back at
the weights as I straightened my legs again.  When I saw the
whole stack go up the rails I figured out what was going on.

"Very cute, guys," I said. "Real funny.  Now, would you please
take some of that off before I tear a muscle?"

No one said anything, but Lamont went behind the machine and
moved the key about three-quarters of the way up the stack and
put it in at the 50 pound mark.  When I looked at the bottom
marking, I saw that I had been lifting the whole 200 pounds that
was the maximum setting on the machine.

I was tempted to tear into someone for setting me up like that. 
I was mad that they had so little respect for me that they would
let me sit there and hurt myself by using more weight than I
should have.  When the room stayed quiet while I finished the
first set, it dawned on me that whoever had set the weight that
high hadn't expected me to be able to lift it at all.  I was to
have been made the butt of a joke that badly misfired.  After
all, they could hardly laugh and say, "Hey, you're a lot stronger
than we thought!  Don't we look stupid!"

Just to rub salt in their wounds, and because I was sure they
would have done the same to me, after I finished the first set I
went back and made a lot of noise moving the key down to the 100
pound mark before starting the next set.  I had no idea what the
normal weight load should have been, but they had already seen me
lift it all without a problem, so I had no choice but to carry on
as though I knew what I was doing.

After the second set I took a break and walked around to see what
everyone else was doing.  I made a mental note of some of the
settings on the other machines so I wouldn't get caught in the
same situation again.  I wanted their respect, not their
humiliation.

When I came to Lamont on the abdominal crunch machine, I started
to have second thoughts about not humiliating anyone.  I stood
right in front of him and watched his stomach muscles ripple as
he cranked out the reps. I was thinking how nicely defined his
muscles were and how I would like to run my hand over them to
feel them move as he flexed and curled his torso.  Of course, I
kept a perfectly blank expression while I watched so I wouldn't
give Lamont the satisfaction of knowing what I was thinking.  

Beads of sweat started running down Lamont's forehead and into
his eyes.  I thought he should have worn a headband to keep that
from happening.  Then I thought it was awful early for Lamont to
be breaking into a full sweat like that.  I checked the weight he
had set, but it didn't mean anything to me since I didn't have
anything to compare it to.  Lamont saw me looking at the weight
and his eyes started darting all over as though he were wondering
if I thought he should have been using more.

I cocked my head to get a better look as his abs.  He saw me look
there and he tried to suck in his stomach, which under the
circumstances wasn't really possible.  Then I saw that, I knew I
had an opportunity that I couldn't pass up.  I let my gaze wander
lowly down his torso, past his navel, and come to bear on his
groin.  I couldn't really see anything because of the loose
shorts and the jock he was probably wearing, but Lamont didn't
know that.  For all he knew, I could see his Johnson quite
clearly.

As I stared, I made series of faces calculated to convey a sense
of criticism and disparagement.  I pursed my lips.  I made a
small frown.  I furrowed my brow.  I did all three at once.  When
I looked back at his face, all the confidence and cockiness had
been drained out of it.  Staring right into his eyes, I frowned
and slowly shook my head back and forth a couple of times before
I went back to my own machine.

On the way, I saw Steve looking at me.  He had obviously been
keeping an eye on me and had seen the little scene I put on for
Lamont.  I stuck my tongue out at him and then grinned.  Steve
laughed and almost dropped the bar he was curling.  I had made
the message clear   mess with me at your peril.  There are worse
things to fear than dumb practical jokes.

At the end of the period, when everyone headed down to the
showers, I saw Steve hang back, so I waited with him.  When there
was no one in the room but us he spoke.

"I apologize for the trick.  Lamont set the machine, but the rest
of us saw him do it, so we all knew about it and none of us said
anything."

"That's OK.  I got even," I said.

"Yeah, I noticed.  Poor Lamont.  You ruined his weekend, you
know.  He's going to be self-conscious for days."

"Yeah.  Poor Lamont."

"You could fix him."

"I could.  Why would I?"

"Because you're sweet and pretty and kind and..."

"Shove it!  Why should I?"

"Because you won.  You turned the tables on him and then you took
him out just by looking at him hard.  Be a sport.  Let him up."

"But I'm just a girl."

"If there is one thing you are not, it's 'just a girl'.  How did
you do that with the leg extension machine?"

"I'm short.  I have better leverage."

"Bull!  You amaze me every time I see you.  Every time I have to
change how I think about you, about girls.  You're doing it on
purpose, aren't you?"

"Yes.  I am."

"Why?"

"Because you laughed at me."

"What?  When?"

"When I suggested that I could spot for you.  You laughed and I
decided to teach you a lesson."

"What?  That you're smart, you're strong, you're beautiful,
you're tough, and you're able to cripple a man with a hard
look?"

"That's harsh."

"A guy's ego is a fragile thing.  You can break his arm and he'll
get over it, but if you break his spirit, you've ruined him. 
He'll have doubts forever."

"You're smarter than I thought you were.  More considerate,
too."

"I do 'lummox' well.  It's typecasting.  Are we even?"

"Can I spot for you?  Do you trust me?"

"Trust you?  Heck, I think I love you."

After that point, anything I planned to say went right out of my
head.  My face broke into a grin so big it felt like my head
would split in two.  My heart felt like it exploded in my chest.
I jumped up and wrapped my arms around Steve's neck and my legs
around his waist and put my nose right up against his.  He
staggered back a step, and put both hands under my butt to
support me.

"Oh, Steve.  I think I love you, too.  Oh, dammit!  This is too
soon."

"Yeah, Sam.  I know.  We hardly know each other."

"How long should it take?"

"How long have you got?"

"As long as we need.  Kiss me?"

He did.  And it was very, very good.  When it was over, I put my
head on his shoulder and snuggled into his neck.  He carried me
to the door, picked up our stuff, and walked out of the weight
room with me still wrapped around him.

"I won't need the weight room while you're around," he said as he
walked down the hall.

"Am I too heavy?"

"No.  You're a nice weight.  Nice and warm and soft. I could
carry you all day.  But now it's time to get down and go tell
Lamont that you're sorry you shriveled his balls."

"OK."  I let go and dropped to the floor.  "But don't get upset.
I can only think of one quick way to fix this."

"Unhunh."  Steve sounded scared and uncertain.  I thought he was
putting me on, but I wasn't sure.  I had been underestimating
Steve.  He was deeper than he appeared.

When I turned into the entrance to the locker room there was no
one in sight.  I walked over to a bench and pulled off my shoes
and socks, then took off my top and shorts.  Steve stripped off,
too.  

I padded naked toward the showers and peaked around the corner. 
The room was filling with steam and mist and it was hard to see,
but I could make out Lamont's black ass at the far end of the
room.  I turned to Steve and said, "Stop gawking.  You can look
all you want later.  Now get in there and cover me so he doesn't
know I'm coming."

I followed Steve into the shower and managed to stay behind him
until I was past Doug and Roger.  I sidled up next to Lamont and
considered how to handle the situation tactfully and
diplomatically.

"HOLY SHIT!  Look at the size of that black cock!  That's the
biggest hunk of dick I've ever seen!"  I shouted at the top of my
lungs.  I pointed at Lamont's soapy cock from point-blank range
in case anyone had missed what I was talking about.

Pandemonium would best describe the next few seconds.  Everyone
jumped at least a foot in whatever direction they happened to be
facing.  Doug slammed into the tile wall and fell back on his
ass.  Roger lost his grip on his bar of soap and it skittered
across the floor with him sliding right behind it.

 Steve backed up against the opposite wall and doubled over
laughing.  Lamont froze in place and dropped his soap, too.  I
picked it up and started to soap my own body down.  Lamont turned
slowly to look down at me.

I looked back and said, "It is a very nice cock, Lamont.  I
apologize if I seemed to imply anything different.  Can you
forgive me?"  I ran his bar of soap over one breast and then the
other until I was sure I had his complete attention.

Before he could answer, I reached out and took hold of his cock
and started rubbing it with the bar of soap.   "Lamont," I said.
"If you promise to stop fucking with me, then I promise to stop
fucking with you.  Deal?"  I kind of hoped that Lamont would take
his time making up his mind.  He did have a nice big cock.  It
was coal black except for the head, which was pink.  While I
rubbed soap all over it, it got even bigger and I got curious
about how big it would be so I stroked it up and down the shaft
to encourage it.

Lamont blinked water out of his eyes and looked down at what I
was doing to his black cock.  He smiled at me and said, "I knew
you couldn't keep your hands off my cock.  No chick can resist a
brother's big dick."  He watched me handling him and he seemed to
melt.  "OK.  You got a deal.  How could I say no, since you asked
so nice?"

I reached underneath his cock and put my hand around his ball
sack where it attached to his groin.  I closed my fist and tugged
gently but firmly on his balls.

"A wise decision," I told him.  I turned and addressed the room,
"OK, who wants to do my back?"

The big hairy guy with the deep laugh won the honors, mainly by
physical intimidation.  He was a bit rougher than my usual
back-scrubbers but I thought Steve had other things going for
him.  For instance, he made an excellent loofah.  I soaped him up
and then rubbed myself all over him, giggling all the time as his
hairy chest tickled me.  Having an appreciative audience didn't
hurt a bit, either.  If cocks could applaud I would have had a
standing ovation.  

The group was all smiles as we toweled off and got dressed.  My
stunt had put everyone at ease.  Any girl willing to shower with
the wrestling team was definitely 'one of the guys' as far as
they were concerned.  Even Lamont was smiling.  He had forgiven
me for impugning his manhood and spoiling his practical joke.

I dashed around barefoot and still damp to the girl's side to
finish dressing in my regular clothes.  I just made it to English
class as the bell rang.  

I was trying to surreptitiously dry the water in my ear with a
tissue while I thought about how well things had worked out with
Steve and the wrestling team.  If they thought my joining them in
the shower was a one-time deal, they were badly mistaken.  Now
that I knew I was welcome, there was no way I was going to go
back to showering and dressing all alone on the other side of the
building.

Mainly I was still walking on air after hearing Steve tell me he
loved me.  I never dreamed he felt that strongly about me or that
it would come on us so suddenly.  It seemed just the day before
yesterday that he was raping me and a bunch of my friends out
behind the gym.  Such wonderful memories!  Even if the
relationship with Steve didn't last, and we had to split up and
go our separate ways, the joy I felt at that moment would be a
cherished memory forever.  I was positively glowing, and not just
from all the scrubbing I had received.

Gym class was one of those old social disease video epics that
tried to scare the bejeebers out of you without ever actually
telling you precisely how you managed to catch the disease.  One
of the girls in the row behind me pointed out in a whisper that
the guy in these videos was always named Bob, and all we had to
do to avoid diseases was to stay the heck away from anyone named
Bob.  This caused a lot of giggling and a threat from Coach
Simpson to turn on the lights if we didn't quiet down.  I thought
a more effective threat would have been to make us watch the
video again.

Mercifully, the bulb in the video projector burned out with
fifteen minutes to go in the period.  Coach told us to behave
ourselves while she went on a predictably futile trip to the A/V
department for a replacement.

The door hadn't even shut good behind Coach when the room erupted
with conversation.

Polly said, "Phooey!  I wish we didn't have to watch these nasty
videos.  I'd much rather go outside and get some fresh air than
stay cooped up in here."

Angie agreed, "Me, too!  It stinks in here."

"Oh, you just want to dress-out so you'll have to take a shower,"
Beth said.  "You're just into having your back scrubbed, among
other things."

"I admit it!" Angie said.  "I like being washed.  It's nice.  I
wish we had thought of this before."

"I like it, too," Heather said in her squeaky voice.  "I think
it's a great idea and I don't see a thing wrong with it.  I'd
like to thank whoever started it."

"Oh, that was Sam!" Polly said, pointing at me.  "She started it
with me."

"You were out that day," Angie told Heather.  "You missed it.  I
thought it was really wicked at first.  But then I got into it
and it's soooo good.  It's just so sensual, you know?  I think
the Japanese have been doing it for centuries."

"You want to hear about something wicked?" Heather asked.  "I
heard there was a bunch of girls who went streaking down by the
gym the other day.  Just running around totally starkers at
school!  Now that's wicked!"

"Nooo!" Angie said.  "Really?  That turns me on.  Who would do
something that kinky?"

I put my hand up and wiggled my fingers.  "Me," I said.  I knew
there was a good chance I would regret telling this, but it was
just about the wildest thing I had ever done and I'd never get a
better chance to work on my 'sex kitten' cover.

"Nooo!" Angie said again.  "You didn't!"

"We did.  And you will never guess where we went...the boy's
locker room!"

"You're kidding!" Polly said.

"No way!" Angie added.  "Did you run into any boys?"

"No, thank goodness.  If we had, you would have heard about it
before now.  There were some in there, but we managed to hide
behind the lockers."

"That must have been really scary.  Weren't you just terrified
someone would see you?" Heather asked.

"It was exciting, sure enough.  But we were just as turned-on as
we were scared.  By the time we got to our clothes, we were all
horny as toads.  If a boy had seen us, we probably would have
raped him."  Since I didn't want to name names, I hoped no one
demanded more details of my adventure, so I tried to change the
subject.

"Who saw us?" I asked Heather.

"A girl in my homeroom said she had gone out to the parking lot
in front of the gym for something during lunch and she said she
saw a bunch of girls run past the front door.  She said she
almost didn't think anything about it until one girl with really
big tits ran past and then she realized that they were all
naked." Heather told us.  When she got to the part about the big
tits she looked at my chest.

"Yeah, Sam sort of stands out in a crowd, doesn't she?" Polly
said.

"She sure does!" Heather squeaked.  "She stands out anywhere. 
Sam, would you mind terribly if I asked you a personal
question?"

"Not if you don't mind if I don't answer it if it's too
personal," I said.

"I just wanted to know...what bra size do you wear?"

"That's not too personal!  I thought you were going to ask
something really intimate.  When I wear a bra, which isn't very
often, I wear a 34H.  I'm actually an HH-cup, but I wear nursing
bras that have stretchy cups, so I can get by with a size smaller
and get the extra support if I want it."

"A nursing bra?" Angie said.  "With snaps and flaps and stuff? 
Isn't that uncomfortable?"

"No, the kind I wear doesn't have any of that.  It just has
seamless cups that can be pulled to one side.  I had the same
reaction as you when the woman at the store suggested it, but
when I tried it on it was sooooo comfortable.  I just wear them
when I don't want my nipples to show.  When my breasts grew
bigger, my nipples followed.  If I don't wear a bra, they poke
out pretty far.  See?"  I threw my shoulders back to push my
breasts against my cotton blouse.  It wasn't one of the clingy
ones, so my nipples weren't obvious unless I got excited or
pulled the blouse tight.

After a few seconds of admiring my large nipples, Heather asked,
"I thought when you were that big you had to wear a bra or they
would hang down.  Yours don't sag a bit."

"No, they don't." I said.  "They may someday, but right now they
are firm and high and I am going to go without a bra as much as I
can."

"Even if your nipples show?" Angie asked.

"SO my nipples will show," I laughed.  "I'm not ashamed of my
breasts.  I'm proud of them.  I think they're great and I want to
show them off as much as I can.  I have a closet full of clothes
at home that were all designed to show off my breasts.  I just
can't wear most of them to school because they're too sexy."

 "I think I'd like to see you in some of those." Polly laughed. 
"I'd like to see what your idea of 'too sexy' is."

"It's 'too sexy' if boys mob you in the hall," Heather said.

"So far I've managed to avoid that," I said.  "Unfortunately."

"You mean boys aren't falling all over you to ask you out?" Angie
said.

"No, they're not," I said.  "And I was very surprised about that.
 I thought when I filled-out so much that I'd have to beat them
off with a stick, but they act like I've got cooties or
something.  I asked a couple of boys about it and they said that
I intimidated them, that I would only be asked out by the
strongest, most handsome boys at school."

"Gosh!  That's hard to believe," Polly said.  "I guess that means
you need to get someone to introduce you to Steve Wojeski.  He's
like, The School Stud."

"Yeah," Angie agreed.  "And good luck.  I hear he only dates
college girls."

"I heard he only dates centerfolds," Heather said.

"Well, I heard he only dates girls with really big tits," Polly
said, then she put her hand over her mouth and blushed.  "Oh, I'm
sorry, Sam.  I didn't mean anything."

I smiled slyly and said, "I really shouldn't say anything   and
you've all got to swear not to breath a word of this   but Polly
is right."  I waited patiently for them to figure it out.

"Wait a minute!" Angie said.  "Wait just a damn minute!  You mean
you're dating Steve the Stud?"

"Well, technically we're haven't been on a date yet.  But it's
just a matter of time.  We just got together a couple of days
ago." I said, trying to be vague so they wouldn't connect Steve
with my streaking story.

"No way!" Heather said.  "What's he like?  Is he nice?"

"Yeah, tell us!  How did you hook up with him?" Angie asked.

I wanted to say, "It was very romantic how we met.  He was horny,
I was naked.  It was a match made in heaven," but I managed to
stifle the impulse.

"He just stopped me coming out of fourth-period English.  We
talked for a bit and he invited me to hang out with him and the
wrestling team."

"The whole team?  Girl, you don't believe in doing things
halfway, do you?  What do you do with the whole wrestling team?"
Heather asked.

"We lift weights."  I said.  I thought it sounded strange when I
said it.  Apparently everyone else did, too.  There was a long
silence.

"You what?" Polly asked, like she didn't catch what I said.

"I go up to the weight room with them at lunch and we pump iron."
 That didn't sound a lot better, but I was committed to the story
by this time.

Heather crossed her arms across her chest and huffed, "I get Mom
to take me to the beauty parlor.  I spend positively hours on my
hair and my makeup.  I wear nice clothes.  And I get an
occasional date with the vice-president of the Science Club. 
Obviously I'm doing entirely the wrong thing.  If I want to catch
a cute guy, I need to be down at the gym, pushing iron."

"Pumping iron," I corrected.

"Whatever!"

"Don't knock those Science Club guys," I told her.  "They're
going to be the ones with the high-paying jobs in a few years. 
Would you rather marry a geeky doctor or a hunky fork-lift
operator?"

"Well, I'd like to date them both so I will know which one to
pick," she said.  "It looks like you're hogging all the hunks to
yourself!  It's not fair!  Just because you're the prettiest girl
with the best body shouldn't mean you get all the good-looking
guys!"

"Thank you," I told Heather.

"Hunh?"

"Thank you for calling me pretty and saying I have a nice body. 
That was sweet of you to say.  I appreciate it."

"Dammit, don't try to weasel out of this by being
so...so...nice."

"Would you like me to tell you how to get a date with a hunky
guy?"

"Yes!" Heather said immediately.

"Yes!" Angie agreed.

Polly nodded.  They all leaned in to hear the secret.

"Here's what you do   now I got this from a couple of hunks who
told me the secret, so it's the absolute truth   you walk up to
the guy you want to have ask you out.  And you smile and look
right into his dreamy eyes.  And you say, "Hi!""

"And...?" Heather said.

"And that's it.  That's the secret.  If you sit at home and stare
at the phone, nothing will happen.  You have to go where they are
and you have to act like you want to be asked out.  And I don't
mean flirting from across the room.  I mean get right in his face
and smile like you think he's the most interesting person in the
room."

"But that's not how it's supposed to work," Heather whined. 
"They're supposed to make the first move.  They're supposed to
come to us."

"Do you want a date or do you want to be stalked by some loser
who knows you're home alone?"

"OK, but if this doesn't work..."

"I think it will.  But if it doesn't, what have you lost?"

"I'll be humiliated!"

"I doubt it.  What's the worst thing he could do?  Not talk to
you?  He's not talking to you now.  Give him a chance.  Heck,
don't take 'no' for an answer.  Guys can be shy.  Ask him if you
can copy the homework assignment from him.  Heck, ask him if he
likes oral sex.  I guarantee he'll talk to you then!"

She still looked skeptical, so I said, "Tell you what   you try
it.  If the guy doesn't ask you out, I will introduce you to any
member of the wrestling team you like."

"You've got a deal!" Heather said.

The bell rang and everyone grabbed their stuff and headed to
their next class.  

While we were crowding out the door, Polly put a hand on my arm.

"I meant what I said about seeing you in sexy clothes," she
whispered.

"Then I'll wear something for you," I whispered back.  "See you
on Monday."

I had already promised myself that I would wear something sexy
one day a week.  I might as well do it on Monday and make Polly
happy.  Having someone actually ask made a big difference.  I
started going over possible outfits in my head.  At Bambi's
suggestion, much of my wardrobe was like hers   elegant,
sophisticated, and very sexy.  The things she wore to do the
laundry in would stop traffic in any city in the world.

I thought of several things that I could mix and match to hit the
note I wanted.  A slit-sided long shirt designed to be worn with
a g-string to show off my legs could work with a pair of spandex
slacks.  The 'country-girl' backless blouse could work with a
mini-skirt instead of the wide-belt bottoms I had to go with it.
If I couldn't decide on something I could always ask Bambi to
dress me.  In fact, that sounded like the best idea I had had all
week.  She had no shortage of fashion-sense and taste.  And
volunteering to be her fashion doll would be one of the nicest
things I could do for her.



Math class seemed to drag by.  Most of the day I had managed to
avoid thinking about going home that afternoon and seeing what
Bambi had done to the workshop.  But now I was thinking about
nothing else.  When I did manage to take my mind off the workshop
renovation, I remembered that Mr. Morton had also promised that
my superheroine suit would be ready and I had something else
exciting to look forward to, which only made things worse.

The last bell came as a great relief.  I packed up my bag and
almost raced to the parking lot to meet Neeka.



When we finally got home, she parked in my driveway and we dashed
into the house.  Bambi was downstairs reading the newspaper when
we ran down the stairs and almost stumbled over each other in our
excitement.

"Can we see it now?" I asked.

"Is it ready?" Neeka asked.

"Yes, it's finished.  And yes, you can see it now," Bambi said. 
"Come with me."

As we walked down to the former workshop, Bambi said, "I think
they did an excellent job.  I am very impressed with the result.
I wasn't too sure about your choice of dazzle-art for the walls,
but I think it worked out much better than I expected.  I think
you will be impressed.

"I was able to get some more equipment for you from the company
that we bought the weight benches and dumbbells from.  It seems
that they have turned going out of business into a business of
its own.  They handle the liquidation of stock of other fitness
businesses that have failed.

"Of course I had to wait until it was substantially finished
before the tech from the sheriff's office came over to install
your radio.  He was obviously curious about it, but I told him
that I was sure Sheriff Foster would be glad to answer any
questions he had.  After that he paid strict attention to his
job.

The contractor said that if there were any problems to let him
know and he would be back to fix them next week.  He's such a
sweet man.  He kept asking if I wanted to climb up his ladder to
inspect the work he did on the ceiling."

Both Neeka and I laughed at that.  "How much work could there be
on the ceiling?  He was just trying to look up your dress," I
said.

"There was quite a bit, actually.  But if teasing him is what it
takes to keep him focused on the work I want done and not wander
off to something more interesting or more profitable, then he can
try to look up my skirt all he wants."

I was wondering how there could be 'quite a bit' of ceiling work
when we arrived at the bottom of the stairs and Bambi opened the
door for us.  She waited until we had stepped into the room
before dramatically turning on the lights.

As they popped on in staggered sequence, I saw that the
fluorescent tube fixtures had been replaced by groups of
industrial-looking lights recessed into the black ceiling.  They
filled the room with a cool white light.  The color of the light
accented the wall graphics, which were the most stunning part of
the room.  I had expected strong op-art images, but what the
contractor had done went well beyond the dazzle graphics that I
expected.  Instead of just solid, black and white geometric
shapes, the painter had created an illusion of depth by adding
more geometric elements in shades of gray that appeared between
and behind the primary ones.  The graphics were carried through
the floor in the patterns of black, white and gray carpet tiles.
The room looked like a section of an alien city on some distant
planet under the white light of a dwarf star.  It was impressive,
spellbinding, beautiful and disorienting, all at once.

It took some looking before I was able to get past the graphics
and see the room itself.  I began by looking for things that had
been there before and whose positions I knew.

The built-in cabinets were still there, but they had been painted
with the wall graphics and seemed to disappear into them.  Next
to the cabinets was a desk built into a shadowy nook.  There were
two cushioned office chairs on casters.  I flipped a wall switch
next to the desk and a set of task-lights came on, spotlighting
the desktop.  

On the desk were a flat-screen computer monitor, a mouse, and a
keyboard.  The computer itself was underneath, behind a panel
designed to look like a file-drawer.  On a shelf above the desk
was a radio console with speakers and a goose-neck microphone.

"I asked about a scanner," Bambi said, "but they said they use
digital encryption now.  Scanners can't pick that up, apparently.
 They said each set has to have a special code key programmed
into it to be able to send or receive.  They even know which
radio is transmitting by the key it's using."

I picked up a stack of manuals on the desk and spread them out. 
They were operating instructions for the radio, codes and call
signs used by local and state law enforcement agencies, and a
manual and password list for accessing the police computer
systems.  When I flipped the pages of the radio manual, wondering
how long it would take me to learn to use the thing - and if I
would ever get up the courage to talk on it   a piece of paper
fell out.  It said that my unit call-sign was DR-1, to be spoken
as Delta-Romeo-One on the air.

I put down the books and went back to exploring the room.  Bambi
had made good on her promise to install my own exercise equipment
  there was a sturdy-looking treadmill against one wall and a
black leather heavy bag like boxers use hanging on a huge chain
from a frame that looked like sections of railroad ties welded
together.  

When I looked curiously at the support for the bag, Bambi said,
"I had them take the bag apart and fill the middle with iron
shot.  It weighs as much as my car."

She opened the door to one of the cabinets and took out a pair of
leather gloves.  "Here," she said.  "These are to protect your
hands when you use the bag.  Try it out."

I slipped on the gloves and stood at arm's reach from the big
bag.  Neeka stepped well away from any potential shrapnel and
Bambi followed her.

I punched tentatively at the bag and it did not budge.  I hit it
harder and it moved only a millimeter.  I hit it harder still and
it slowly swung away a few inches and then back again.  I hauled
off and smacked it as hard as I could.  The bag swung back a foot
and then ponderously forward as the chain creaked under its
slowly shifting weight.  I put out a hand to stop the swinging
and discovered that the laws of mass and momentum worked just
fine for little girls and pendulums weighing a couple of tons. 
Instead of stopping, it pushed me away.  I wondered how much
force it took to make the bag swing like that and how hard I had
had to hit it to make it move.  I took off the gloves and went to
put them back in the cabinet.

On the shelves where the gloves went were an assortment of
protective pads for us to wear while sparring.  There were guards
for our hands, forearms, knees, shins, feet, and heads.  All of
this made me feel better about sparring with Neeka.  After Master
Li had expressed surprise that she was still alive, I had been
concerned that I might get through her guard or hit her
accidentally and hurt her.  With this stuff on, that was unlikely
to happen.

On the top shelf of the cabinet was a leather pouch with a set of
steel throwing-stars with very sharp points.  Next to it was an
identical set of practice stars made of rubber.

When I closed the cabinet and reached for the handle of the one
next to it, Bambi spoke up, "Let's leave that one for last."

I knew then that my uniform from Mr. Morton was in there.  It was
very hard to turn away from that door.  I wanted to try on that
suit very badly.

Past the bag and the treadmill was a section of floor covered
with the thick mats I had seen before.  They had been laid out
the same way I had used them   edge to edge from one wall to
another.  Only now there were two rows, making an area all of 20
feet square.

When I looked at the walls closely, I could see that there were
regularly-spaced holes all over them.  I stuck my finger in one
and found that it was a couple of inches deep.  I looked a
question at Bambi and she smiled and handed me a pair of wooden
dowels that fit exactly into the holes.

"It's a pegboard climber," she told me.  "You put the pegs in the
holes and climb up the wall with them.  I'd never heard of it
before, but it sounded like a good way to use the walls as part
of the equipment, so I let them put it in."

I tried it.  I had to put in a peg, pull myself up on it with one
hand, put in a second peg, pull up on it, take the first peg out,
put it into a higher hole and keep alternating pegs to work my
way up the wall.  When I got to the 15 foot ceiling, I discovered
that the area directly over the mats was covered with a grid of
metal pipes like a jungle gym.  It was all painted black to match
the ceiling, so it was hard to see from the floor.

Holding myself up with one arm, I reached out and grabbed a rung
of the grid and swung over so that I hung from it like the monkey
bars on a playground.  I worked hand over hand across the ceiling
until I was in the middle of the room, where I let go and
dropped.  I heard Bambi and Neeka gasp as I fell to the floor and
make a three-point landing on the soft mat.

"You scared me!" Bambi said.  "Please be careful."

"Don't worry," I told her.  "Watch."  Neither of them had seen
what I was about to do, and I smiled as I bent my knees and
jumped straight up into the air and caught hold of the pipe-grid
again.

"My goodness!"  Bambi exclaimed.  "I had no idea you could do
that!"

I swung my feet up and hooked them on the pipe next to my hands
and let go of the pipe.  I hung upside down for a second, then I
pulled my feet off the pipe and dropped, this time doing a
half-somersault so I landed perfectly on the balls of my feet.

"Ta Daa!" I said.  "I like that!  That's neat!"

The far end of the room had the same concrete floor and the same
tool chests.  Parked in the same spot was the same big
motorcycle.  I eyed it with something between admiration and
fear- like you would look at a lion in a zoo who had just looked
right at you and roared.  It had a license tag on the rear fender
now; one with an 'MG' prefix that meant it was a government
plate.  When I looked closer at the bike, I noticed that a mobile
radio had been added next to the control panel between the
handlebars.  A microphone with a coiled cord clipped onto the
side of the radio. 

Neeka looked over my shoulder.  "They did a good job of
installing the radio," she said.  "I'm glad they didn't screw up
the bike."

"Yeah," I said, halfheartedly.  "Me too."

"Well, what do you think of it?" Bambi asked.

I threw my arms around her and hugged her.  "It's wonderful!" I
said.  "It's way more than I expected.  You did a great job! 
Thank you so much!"

"Just one more thing, then," she said, leading me back to the
cabinet.  She opened the right-hand cabinet doors and left them
standing wide open.  When she stepped back, I couldn't see a
thing.  I put my hand into the cabinet and my fingers ran into
the fabric of the suit draped over a hanger.  In the dim light in
the cabinet, it had been invisible.

I took the hanger out and held it up to show Neeka.

"That's it?" she asked.  "It looks like a piece of gray gauze."

I handed her the suit and picked up the high-top, crepe soled
shoes and the fanny pack from the bottom of the cabinet.

"It looks fantastic!" I said.  "I can't wait to try it on."

I don't think I'd ever gotten undressed that fast before.  I took
the suit from Neeka and sat down on the office chair.  I flipped
the suit around to get to the zipper and pulled it down to the
crotch.  When I saw how long the zipper was, I smiled.  Mr.
Morton had added a thoughtful touch to the design   the zipper
went all the way through the crotch.  I would able to unzip it
far enough to be able to pee without having to take the suit off.
 That would be handy if I got stuck on some kind of prolonged
stakeout.  Then I had a second thought that actually made more
sense given what I knew about Mr. Morton's second business   the
zipper would go down far enough to allow me to fuck with the suit
on.

I pulled the bottom of the suit on like a pair of panty hose. 
Standing, I put my hands through the rolled up arms and shrugged
it on over my shoulders.  I had to reach between my legs all the
way to my butt to grab the zipper and pull it up.  Fortunately,
or more likely by design, the zipper didn't bite anywhere as I
pulled it up to my throat.

The suit fit me like a second skin.  Already light to start, with
its weight spread all over my body, it felt like I was wearing
nothing at all.  The weave was fine enough to appear opaque, but
open enough to fool my skin into feeling bare.

I looked around for a mirror, and was unhappy that there didn't
seem to be one when Bambi opened the door of the other cabinet
wide.  There was a large mirror mounted on the inside of the
door.

I stared at myself in the suit for at least a minute.  It fit
perfectly.  It clung to every curve, every line of my body.  It
was incredible.  I tried bending and moving in the suit and it
moved with me in every direction.

"Wow!" Neeka said.  "That is soooo kewl.  But why the yucky
color?"

"Wait," Bambi said.  "You'll see in a minute."

I sat back down and pulled on the shoes and pulled the Velcro
closures tight. The shoes fit as perfectly as the suit.  Bambi
handed me the gloves from the top shelf and I pulled them on. 
The palms and insides of the fingers were reinforced with several
layers of material and had a tacky rubber-like coating on them. 
They would be great for grabbing things.  The thin elastic fabric
masked the overlap of the gloves with the rest of the suit.  It
looked seamless from the high turtleneck to the toes, like I had
been dipped in it.

I reached back behind my neck and unrolled the cowl, pulling it
up and over my head.  When I pulled it all the way forward, it
hung down over my face like a monk's robe.  At first I wondered
if this was an oversight, but then I realized that it would be a
way to hide my face   the only part of my body that would be
exposed when I was wearing the suit.

To answer Neeka's question, I walked over to an open spot of the
wall and stepped close to it.

"Watch this!" I said.  I put my back flat against the wall and
turned my head so the hood hid my face.  

The effect was everything I could have wanted.  Neeka gasped and
said, "Holy moly!  You almost disappeared into the wall!  If I
wasn't looking right at you, I'd never know you were there!"

Bambi explained the special optical properties of the fabric and
how lucky we were to have it.  "And that's why it looks gray,"
she concluded, "it's really colorless.  The gray is just the
average of all the light around it.  When it's touching
something, like a wall, it transmits the color to the other side
like a TV picture tube."

"So that's why it covers so much of you.  It's a camouflage
suit." Neeka said.

"That," I said, "and it's also cut-proof and bullet-resistant."

"You mean bullet-proof?"

"No, just resistant.  If I get shot, the suit won't tear, but I
still catch the impact and it will stretch enough so I will be
seriously hurt.  Just hopefully not dead." 

"That's still amazing for a leotard," Neeka said.  "Let me run
get my outfit so we can see how they look together.  Be right
back."

Neeka left by the back door.  Before it swung shut on its
hydraulic arm, I saw her take off running.  She was just as
excited about this as I was.

When I picked up the fanny pack, I noticed that it had already
been packed.  I put it on the desk to see what equipment I had in
it.  The catch was the regular type, but the belt was extra wide,
so it would be comfortable to wear and not fly around.  I
unzipped it and looked inside.  I pulled out a coil of thin cord
attached to a folding grappling hook.  A tag sewn to the end of
the cord declared it to be fifty feet long and have a tested
breaking strength of 1000 kg, or one metric ton.  

There was a small metal flashlight with a belt-clip and a
hexagonal lens-guard, so it wouldn't roll if I set it down.  When
I pushed the button on the end-cap to turn it on, the incredibly
bright light momentarily blinded me.  I snapped it off
immediately, but it took several seconds to be able to see
again.

"Sorry," I said, seeing Bambi rubbing her eyes as well.  "I'll
have to be careful with that."

"The ad said it could also be used as a weapon," she said,
blinking.  "I thought they meant you could hit people with it.  I
didn't try to turn it on.  It uses some special batteries that
only last for an hour, so I got lots of spares.  There is another
set in there."

I pulled the spares out of an inside compartment.  They were
short and fat and said 'Lithium, 3 volt Photo' on the side.

There was a flat pouch that contained a supply of the throwing
stars.  It had a slit in the back and could have been worn on the
fanny pack belt.  I decided to leave it in the pack until I had
practiced enough with the stars to be comfortable with using
them.

A folding multi-tool was the next item.  It was so compact and
well designed that it looked like it had been cut from a single
block of metal.  When I opened it up it bristled like a porcupine
with all kinds of tools, knife blades and saw blades.  There was
even a nail file, a tweezers, and for some reason I couldn't
fathom   a toothpick.

"You had fun doing this, didn't you?" I asked Bambi.

"I did, indeed," she grinned.  "The more catalogs I looked at,
the more things I found that I thought you might need.  The list
of things I thought seriously about but didn't get is
considerably longer than the list of things I finally decided on.
 If you think of anything that isn't here, let me know.  Chances
are, I saw it in a catalog somewhere."

The last thing in the bottom of the bag were a couple of
mega-energy bars. 

The outside pocket held a bundle of narrow plastic strips with
teeth along one side and a small hole in one end.  I couldn't
figure them out.

"They're handcuffs," Bambi explained. "You slip the pointy end
through the hole and pull it tight.  Once they're on, they have
to be cut off."

I thought that was a lot easier than trying to keep track of a
pair of metal cuffs and keys and I could carry a lot more of
these, since they weighted almost nothing.

I repacked the bag and put it on.  With it in place around my
hips, the bag rode just above my butt.  In that position, the
weight was hardly noticeable.

Just to be sure it wasn't going to be a problem; I played around
on my monkey bars with it on.  I had a lot of fun bracing myself
in different positions on the bars and then dropping to the mat
from the ceiling, like a spider on its prey.  Every time I did
it, it made Bambi jump.

I also tried climbing up and down the pegboard.  I found that I
could make it much harder if I used the holes that were as far
apart as I could reach.  That required much more strength and
perfect timing to do.

When Neeka got back, carrying a garment bag, Bambi and I were
sitting at the desk, poring over the manual for the radio.  We
had managed to get it turned on, and were listening to the
general channel to get a feel for how it was used and how people
sounded.  I was surprised at the clarity of the voices that we
heard.  I had expected a lot of static and garbled messages, but
there was none of that.  I had also expected a lot more formality
and use of 'Roger' and 'Over' and that sort of thing, but except
for the frequent use of the 10-something codes, there was very
little formality.

We both laughed the first time we heard someone say, "Dispatch,
show unit P31 as 10-10, I gotta take a leak."  Obviously 10-10,
which was on the list as 'Temporarily Out of Service' actually
meant 'Restroom Break'.

We left the radio on while Neeka got into her outfit.  She had a
pair of black stretch stirrup-pants, a low-cut black knit top
with thin shoulder straps and a leather double-breasted jacket. 
She also had a pair of short black leather boots and a black
chauffeurs cap.  With the wraparound sunglasses, she looked like
the chauffeur for some biker gang.  All she needed was some
chains hanging from the jacket and an Iron Cross embroidered on
the back.

With the front flap of the jacket buttoned back, she showed a
good amount of cleavage.  When she pinned her shoulder-length red
hair up and hid it under the cap, she looked very imposing and
stunningly beautiful.

We were so busy posing and admiring ourselves that we didn't
catch the first of the radio calls reporting 'robbery in
progress'.  By the time we started listening, the number of calls
had picked up and the urgency in the voices was obvious.

As best as we could piece together from what we heard, there had
been a robbery at a grocery store out on Highway 15 on the
outskirts of town.  Several units had been dispatched there and
an announcement was made by the dispatch operator that unit
Sierra-One was on-scene and in command.  We were listening
intently, trying to figure out what was going on when we heard
the call, "Sierra-One to Delta-Romeo-One.  Delta-Romeo-One, do
you copy?"

I was waiting to hear the reply, when Bambi said, "That's you,
honey!"

The call came again, "Sierra-One to DR-1.  Do you copy?"

I swallowed a giant lump in my throat and pressed the bar on the
base of the microphone.  The click and the sudden silence were
terrifying.  I said in as firm a voice as I could manage,
"Delta-Romeo-One copies Sierra-One.  Go ahead."

"DR-1, Sierra-One requests assistance at 1340 North Highway 15. 
We have a situation here I hope you can help us with."  Sheriff
Foster's voice sounded tense.

"Delta-Romeo-One copies.  Dragon is en route."  My voice sounded
more confident than I felt.

"Thank you, DR-1.  Please hurry."

Neeka and I looked at each other and the same thought echoed
through both our minds, "So soon!  I thought we'd have more
time!"

Bambi said, "That's the Big Star on the north side of town. 
You'll need to hurry to beat the rush hour traffic."

We all ran to the other end of the room.  Neeka jumped on the
bike, Bambi hauled the double doors open and I steeled myself to
climb aboard the bike behind Neeka.

When the big bike started up, I thought my knees would fail me. 
I had just started to climb aboard when I thought of something. 
I ran back to the desk, got my badge and ID out of my bookbag and
stuffed it into the fanny pack.

Wishing I had time to run to the bathroom first, I hauled my butt
onto the leather seat behind Neeka and held onto her waist as she
raced the engine and launched us out the door.  She was using the
request to hurry as an excuse to see what the bike would do.

I wish I could describe the trip to the crime scene, but the
truth is, I had my eyes closed most of the way.  I remember us
tilting to one side and then the other so far that I was sure we
would fall over and go sliding across the asphalt.  I remember
peeking out of one eye whenever Neeka stopped at traffic signals,
and vainly hoping that the trip was over each time we slowed
down.  At some point the wind blew my cowl back off my head. I
could feel it blowing through my short blonde hair.

After what must have been much less time than it seemed, Neeka
nudged me and I opened my eyes and looked over her shoulder.  We
had arrived at the store and were approaching the parking lot. 
Ahead was a police cruiser blocking the entrance and a deputy
waving at us to stop.  Neeka coasted to a halt beside him.

"I'm sorry girls, but you'll have come back some other time.  The
store is closed right now."  He seemed polite enough, but his
gaze seemed to be more attracted to Neeka's cleavage than the
badge I held out to him.

"Where is Sheriff Foster?" I asked.

The deputy allowed himself to be distracted long enough to look
at my shield and answer my question.

"The command post is on the north side of the building," he said,
looking from the ID to me and back again as though suspecting
some trickery.  "Look for the truck, you can't miss it."

"Thank you," I managed to shout as Neeka roared off into the
parking lot in search of the truck.



The command post was right where the deputy said.  Neeka drove up
beside the big vehicle and hit the brakes so hard I slid into her
back as we came to a stop.  I was off the bike instantly and
headed around the truck with Neeka right behind when Sheriff
Foster and a man in a black uniform and a vest with pockets all
over it stepped out to meet us.

"Who the hell are you two?" The officer in black demanded. 
"Don't you know...."  He was interrupted by the Sheriff before he
could finish. 

"Can it, Grogan!  This is the help I told you was coming."

From the way he looked at us, Grogan obviously had strong doubts
about what help we might be.  He opened his mouth to express
them, but shut it again when the Sheriff addressed me.

"Who's this?" He said, indicating Neeka.  "Your chauffeur?"

"Yes, at my agency we like to go first class." I said.  He looked
at Neeka, the bike, and me.  I think he thought he was being put
on, but he didn't dare laugh.  I decided to save him from his
dilemma.  "She's also my Communicator.  If you talk to her,
you're talking to me.  She will keep you advised of what I'm
doing and where I am and if I need anything."

Foster obviously didn't understand, but the concept was clear
enough.  He nodded to Neeka.  She touched two fingers to the brim
of her cap in acknowledgement.

"What's the situation?" I asked.

"We've got a robbery gone bad, I'm afraid.  Two armed men tried
to hold up the grocery store here about an hour ago.  The manager
saw what was happening and locked the safe and ran out the back.
Not willing to give it up, at that point the robbers took
hostages.  They've got two female clerks, a bag boy, and four
customers   two women and two children.  

"It's the kids that bother me.  If I go with Lieutenant Grogan's
recommendation and call for the full SWAT team, it will take at
least a couple more hours to get setup for an assault.  I don't
want to let this go that long.  I want it resolved as soon as
fucking possible so we can get those kids out of there.  If it
was just adults, I might let them stew for a while, but every
second we wait, those children are just going to be more
traumatized.

"If we wait, rush hour will be in full swing and traffic that
would normally go through here will be backed up for miles.  An
assault will almost certainly mean gunfire, and I don't want to
risk any stray shots with the road packed with traffic.

"You see, I'm in a pickle.  I need to end this fast and I don't
want gunfire.  You are the best chance we have to take those two
out quickly, before they hurt anyone."

I nodded.  This was exactly the kind of situation I had told
Foster I could help with.

"What's the tactical situation?" I asked, hoping to sound
professional.

"Grogan?"  The Sheriff said.

"Two Caucasian males, mid-twenties.  Baggy clothes.  Canvas
shorts and t-shirts. One is armed with a double-barreled shotgun.
 We think the other has a knife, but the witness wasn't sure. 
They are in the back of the store near the meat department.  The
hostages are on the floor beside the refrigerated cases.  The
perps are walking back and forth between them and the aisles. 
This makes it tough to get to them with sniper fire.  If it was
just one, or if they would stand still for more than a few
seconds...."  Grogan's unhappiness with the situation was clear.
He swallowed his anger and went on.  "We have two men at the
southeast corner of the building, and two over behind that parked
car across from the main entrance.  Another two are watching the
freight entrance around back.  The two behind the car have
limited sight into the back of the store, so we know where
everyone is, but not all of them are visible at one time."

"OK," I said, thinking about how to sneak up on two armed men
without getting a lot of innocent people killed.  "I'll go in the
back and approach from there.  My associate will keep you
informed."

As I jogged off down the side of the building, I heard Grogan and
the Sheriff talking.

"She's just a little girl!  What the hell is she going to do? 
We're just giving them another damn hostage.  She's not even
armed.  I doubt she has more than a tube of lipstick in that
fanny pack."

"Grogan, shut up.  That little girl is the scariest bad-ass in
this town.  I've seen her work...and the aftermath.  You go call
for an ambulance."

Despite the Sheriff's conviction that he had just sentenced the
two robbers to a trip to the emergency room, I swore I would try
to bring this off without anyone getting hurt if I could at all
avoid it.  Not even me.

When I turned the corner of the building, I saw a black-and-white
parked next to the loading dock.  One officer was peeking around
the open freight door.  He heard me coming up behind him and
turned around.  I saw that his nametag said 'Rosario'.

"Where's your partner?" I asked.

"Inside, trying to get close enough to eavesdrop on them," he
said.  "Who are you?"

"The cavalry.  Wait here until you get orders to move in.  Or
until you hear gunfire, in which case something has gone very
wrong.  Got it?"

"Yeah, but..."

I left Officer Rosario and crept into the dark storeroom.  There
were big metal light fixtures in the ceiling, but they were off.
The only light came from the opening behind me and the windows in
the door ahead.  As I got closer to the swinging door leading to
the front of the store, I saw Officer Murphy craning his head
around a pallet of dishwashing powder.  He was trying to hear
what was going on in the store without being seen by the
robbers.

The crepe soles on my shoes were as silent as if I were walking
across a plush carpet.  I got right up behind Murphy without him
even knowing I was there.  I put out a hand and tapped him on the
shoulder.

"Hello Murphy," I said in a whisper.  

He jerked but didn't make a sound.  After a few seconds of deep
breathing, he turned to look at me.

"Who the hell are you?" He said in a strained whisper.

"Got that citation yet, Murphy?" I asked smiling.

"No, that's on for next week.  Who are you?"

"I'm your fairy godmother.  I'm the one who leaves hold-up
suspects lying around on street corners for lucky deputies to
scrape up.  In a minute, I'm going in there and deal with those
two.  I want to know that you're chilling here so I don't have to
worry about what's behind me.  If you aren't cool, go back and
wait with Rosario."

"I'm good.  Really."

"Great.  Wait here.  When I have them both disarmed and down,
come and cover them and we'll get them cuffed.  OK?"

"What are you going to do?"

"Anything I have to, Murphy.  Anything I have to."  I wanted to
laugh out loud at my false bravado.  I didn't have a clue what
the hell I was going to do.  But the time had come for me to do
it.

I slipped away from Murphy and knelt on the floor right behind
the right-hand panel of the double swinging doors.  I eased up
until I could see out the small, grimy window.  I had to stand on
my toes to do it.

The robbers were pacing up and down in front of the row of
refrigerated cases about thirty feet to my left.  I couldn't see
the hostages, but they must have been on the floor at the
robbers' feet because they kept looking down as they paced.

I watched for a bit to see if they followed some kind of pattern.
 The one with the shotgun was closest to me and always came close
to the end of the row of cases before he turned to go back toward
the hostages.  His buddy never left the area where I thought the
hostages must be.  I noticed that the buddy held a knife in his
right hand and waved it around as he paced.  Both of them seemed
highly agitated.  Their movements were jerky and abrupt and the
gestures they made indicated frustration.  I thought the Sheriff
was probably right to be worried.  These two looked like they
might do something stupid and violent any minute.

I decided that the one with the shotgun had to be my first
priority.  He could do the most damage of the two.  When he was
down I could go for the one with the knife.

I slid back down to the floor and 'spoke' to Neeka.

"I'm at the door to the front of the store.  Murphy is here with
me.  He's going to back me up.  Has the situation out there
changed any?"

Her voice rang clearly in my head, "Just a sec....no.  No
changes.  Everyone is still in the same position.  Good luck,
Sam."

I went back over to Murphy to attend to one final item.

"Look, Murphy, I'm going to show you something now so you won't
be startled later, OK?"

He nodded assent, if not understanding.  I looked right in his
eyes and took on the aspect of the Dragon.  His eyes went real
big when my face changed, but after a second he nodded again.  In
the dim light of the storeroom, it must have been a chilling
sight.  I was going to need it to startle the robbers into what,
if I was lucky, would be immobility.

I went back to the door and knelt behind the left-hand panel.  I
closed my eyes briefly and tranced.  It was harder to do with my
heart pounding in my chest and my nerves screaming at me and the
shadows of doubt flickering at the edge of my vision, but I
managed.  Trance made everything seem to happen slower.  I hoped
that would give me another edge.

With a last deep breath, I slowly eased the right hand door panel
inward.  When it was open enough for me to crawl through, I
wedged it in place with a block of wood that was on the floor for
that purpose.

I pulled the cowl up over my head as far as it would go and lay
down flat on the floor with one eye looking around the door.  I
waited until the robber with the shotgun turned his back to me
and started to crawl through the door.  I had only gone a few
feet when I realized that I couldn't get as flat to the floor as
I wanted.  There was a gap in my contact with the floor caused by
two significant parts of my anatomy.

I carefully rolled over on my back and slowly backstroked my way
out to the end of the nearest row of cases.  I got there just as
the guy with the shotgun did.  I lay motionless on the floor on
the backside of the display case as he turned and walked back the
other way.

As soon as I heard his retreating footsteps, I crawled around the
end of the case and peeked around it with my head pressed to the
floor.  Everything was as I expected.  The hostages were sitting
in a row, bunched together at the feet of the knife-waver.  They
all looked scared to death.  The women customers held their
children to them with a grip that was more desperation than
comforting.  I could see that the kids were two little girls,
both about seven years old.  Their faces were so screwed up with
fear that it was painful to look at them.  I fought back my
emotional reaction as hard as I could.  I tried not to think
about them and that they were only eleven years younger than me.
I put out of my mind that they looked just like I had at that age
and that they had mothers that loved them very much.  Sure I
did.

When I heard the robber approach, I eased up into a crouch at the
end of the case.  I leaned onto it, put my head down and waited
for him to walk past me.  When he was two steps by, I stepped out
behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.  He spun around and
the barrel of the gun slapped right into my waiting hand.  With
my other hand I brushed his hand off the stock and I bent down
and slid the shotgun across the floor toward the storeroom door.
It slid halfway through and stopped.

That was good enough, I thought.  The first robber was no longer
a problem.  If he went for the gun, he would run right into
Murphy and without the gun, he was no longer number one on my
list of priorities.

I spun around and took one step toward his buddy with the knife,
when I saw the shiny handgun stuck in his waistband.  That
changed things.  He was at least twenty feet away.  I might be
able to get to him before he dropped the knife and pulled the gun
or I might not.  In the split-second while I was trying to make
up my mind, the first robber made up his.  Instead of going after
the shotgun, he grabbed my arms.

I was about to yank free, when I saw the guy with the knife smile
and start toward me with the knife held at the ready.  He thought
his friend had me under control, so he felt secure enough to rely
on the blade, rather than switching to the gun.  The blade
couldn't hurt me much, and the further he got from the hostages,
the better I liked it.  I faked struggling and waited for him to
come to me.

When he was just a couple of steps out of my reach, I heard
Murphy shout, "Drop the knife!  Now!"

He had been watching from the door, and must have seen the first
guy grab me and the second go after me with the knife.  He didn't
know about the gun, which the second robber was pulling from his
waistband as I watched.

I leaned back and elbowed the guy holding my arms.  He let out an
"Oof!" and let go of me.  I flexed my legs and leaped for the
robber with the pistol with my left arm outstretched.  I aimed my
jump so I would pass through the gap between the cases, trying to
put as much of me between the gun and Officer Murphy as I could.


I didn't have a good angle, but it was good enough.  I saw the
gun fire and a streak flew toward my outstretched hand.  The
bullet hit exactly in the palm of my left hand, driving the
material of the glove into my palm with terrific force.  The
impact threw my arm back and forced my hand closed around the
bullet as the impact broke every bone in my hand.

When I landed, I managed to keep my feet.  I had a second or two
before the shock and pain set in and I used it.  I leaned over
the refrigerated case and with my right hand I snatched the gun
away just as the robber was bringing it to bear on me.

I dropped the gun into the stacks of ground round and grabbed the
robber by the shirt and yanked his sorry ass over the case and
threw him to the floor at the feet of Officer Murphy, who was
staring at me.

I was about to say something about covering the first robber, but
one look told me that he wouldn't be coming out of his tuck
without medical assistance.  I hadn't pulled my punch when I hit
him with my elbow and he probably had some internal injuries from
the blow.

The second robber wasn't moving either.  He had hit the floor
pretty hard and he was lying in a good imitation of a rag-doll,
so he wasn't going to be a problem either.

Murphy took all this in at the same time as I did.  He holstered
his weapon and cuffed the guy at his feet, just for the heck of
it.

While he did that, I got busy sending the "HEAL!" message to my
poor demolished hand.  The pain was terrible, but I knew it for
an old friend.  I stood with my fingers up and my forearm
parallel to the floor while I waited for the intense wave of
agony to wash over me and the healing to get enough of a start in
my hand to let me move my fingers again.  While I waited, I
dropped the Dragon from my face and pushed my cowl back with my
working hand.

When Murphy came over to check on me, he looked at my face and my
hand and misunderstood the situation.  He held out his hand next
to mine with his palm up.

Rather than go into an explanation, I rolled my arm over and held
my hand over his.  The bullet fell from my limp fingers into his
palm.  

"Ow!" He said, flinching.  "It's still hot!"

I dropped my arm to my side and breathed deeply as the pain began
to subside.  It was still pretty bad, but I had had worse and
liked it, so this wasn't hard to deal with.

Murphy looked at the bullet and then looked at me.  "You caught
it," he said.  "You caught the bullet."  It then dawned on him
what the consequences would have been if I hadn't got my hand in
the way in time.  "You saved my life.  Damn!  You caught the
bullet."

"Keep it for a souvenir," I told him.  "Maybe it will remind you
to chill next time."

Rosario burst into the room with his gun drawn.  It seemed
comically anticlimactic and I had to suppress a giggle.

"Put it away, Rosario." I said.  "Show's over."

I was about to ask Neeka if the EMTs had arrived, when I heard
the sound of the siren approaching.  I took one look toward the
former hostages, still sitting on the floor, but no longer
terrified, and I walked out of the store back the way I had come
in.

I went back around the corner and over to the command post.  The
afternoon breeze played with my hair and I put my nose into it
and inhaled deeply.  The pain in my hand was down to a dull roar
by now and I could twitch my fingers again.  I smiled to myself
and then put on a professional face as the ambulance rolled past
me.

I walked up to Foster, Grogan, and Neeka and said to the Sheriff,
"Two crooks, sunny side down.  That was your order, wasn't it?"

Foster nodded.  "Yes, that was exactly right.  Thank you very
much."

"The second one had a gun in his belt in addition to the knife,"
I told Grogan.  "He got a shot off before I could get it away
from him, but no one was hurt.  Oh, Murphy has the bullet, in
case you want it.  He saw it all go down."

I figured I'd let Murphy tell any story he wanted to.  His
intentions had been good, even if his timing stunk.  He hadn't
known about the second gun, but neither did I when I went into
the store.  

"And now, we had better be going before we attract too much
attention.  Be seeing you, gentlemen."

"Wait!" Grogan said.  "The media will want to interview you. 
Don't you want the credit.  Don't you want to be on TV?"

"NO!" I said, maybe a little too sharply.  "No thank you," I
said, more politely. "No publicity, please.  Give Murphy and
Rosario any credit that's due."

Neeka put on her sunglasses and we got back on the bike.  She
fired it up and we raced out of the parking lot and headed home.
I managed to peek a couple of times on the way, but mostly I hung
on with my good hand and kept my eyes tightly shut.  During the
ride, I worked up the courage to drop out of trance to see how
bad my hand would hurt without it.  The world resumed its normal
speed and clarity with a whip-crack sensation.  My hand throbbed
worse, but that was all.



Bambi had the doors open for us when we got back to the house. 
Neeka pulled the bike right into the workshop and I hopped off as
soon as it came to a stop.

Neeka horsed the bike around to point it back toward the door and
I went to the back of the room with Bambi and plopped down in the
desk chair.

"Any of those energy bars around?" I asked.  "I need a snack."

Bambi took a box of a dozen out of the bottom of the cabinet and
handed it to me.  I ripped the plastic off one with my teeth and
swallowed it in four bites.  Before it hit my stomach, I was
biting into another one.

"Better go easy on those," Bambi said.  "You'll spoil your
supper."

I laughed with my mouth full and crumbs fell out onto the desk.

"Don't worry," I mumbled around a mouthful, "I'll still be
hungry."

She looked at me with concern in her eyes and as Neeka walked
over, she said, "Did you get hurt?"

"Yah.  I got shot.  Intentionally."  I held up my throbbing hand.
 "I caught a bullet to keep a deputy from being killed.  Snatched
it right out of the air.  Surprised the heck out of myself.  The
suit worked, though.  It stopped the bullet and kept it from
going right through."

"Are you all right?"

"No.  It broke every bone in my hand.  Hurts like hell.  Let me
tell you, being shot is no fun at all.  I really don't want to
have to do that again."

Bambi reached for my hand.  I flinched, but then I held it out
and let her peel the glove off.  The hand was swollen and red,
but all in one piece.  I put it palm down on the desk and was
happy to see that I could straighten out my fingers again.

Neeka decided to make a point.  She asked, "So.  Knowing how bad
it hurts to get shot, would you do it again if you needed to, if
it would save a life?"

"Every time." I said, putting my elbow on the desk and leaning my
head on my good hand.  "I made that choice when I did it.  And I
didn't know then that the suit would actually stop the bullet."

"Weren't you scared?" Bambi asked.

"Petrified," I said, smiling.  "But I did it.  I actually had
things under control until Deputy Murphy tried to join in the
party.  I can't blame him too much.  He thought he was saving
me."

Bambi saw how spent I was and decided it was time to go into Mom
mode.  She said, "You run upstairs and have a good soak.  Use my
bathtub if you like.  I'll get us reservations for dinner.  I
think you need another steak."

"Or two," I said, climbing to my feet.  Bambi and Neeka peeled
the suit off me and helped me up the stairs.  My adrenalin was
used up and my body was tapping every energy reserve it had to
fix my hand.  I felt like I'd been run over by a truck.



Once Neeka and I were relaxing in Bambi's whirlpool bath, I
started to feel better.  The pain in my hand seemed to have
spread all over me.  It wasn't as bad as before, but now
everything ached.  I held out my good hand to Neeka and she slid
over next to me and put her arm around me.  I put my head on her
shoulder and closed my eyes.

"I did good, didn't I?" I asked her in a small, tired voice.

"You did good, Sam," she told me.  She let us slip into the warm
bubbling water until only my head was above the surface.

"What did you talk about with those two while I was inside?"

"Not much.  I told them where you were and what you planned to
do.  I told them you were drawing the robbers away from the
hostages and that you intended to take out the one with the
shotgun first because he was the biggest threat.  I told them
when it was over.  There wasn't a lot of time for chatting.  You
were only in there for a few minutes.  I know it probably seemed
a lot longer to you."

"Unhunh!" I agreed.  "Everything seemed to take forever.  I
probably should have taken more time, but when I saw how scared
those kids were, I felt like I was already running late, you
know?"

"Yeah.  You know Grogan had the snipers watching you.  He told
them not to fire, just to report what they saw."

"So what did they see?"

"Not much.  They could only see the robbers walking past the ends
of the aisles.  I did hear them report right after we heard the
shot.  The guy said on the radio that it looked like the perp had
been 'snatched right out of his shoes'.  He was laughing when he
said it.

"Yeah.  I was in a hurry and I only had one good hand at that
point.  I moved as fast as I could to get the gun away from him
and then get him away from the gun.

But you know the worst part?  It wasn't getting shot.  That
hurts, but I can handle that.  The worst thing was seeing the
looks on the faces of those kids.  No child should ever be that
scared.  I'm going to be seeing that for a long time."

Neeka tried to get my mind off of it before I started to dwell on
it.  She said, "So what do you want to do next?"

"Work.  Practice.  Train.  Study.  I want to be ready next time.
I want to be as ready as I can be."

"OK, we'll start as soon as you feel up to it.  I'll come over in
the morning and we will have a session before lunch.  How's
that?"

"Good.  That's good.  I feel better now."

"Ready to get dressed?"

"Yeah.  Let's go eat a cow."



Bambi picked a different restaurant this time.  This one was
called The 6440, simply because that was its address.  It was out
east of town in some scruffy looking woods and wasn't nearly as
fancy as the places we had been before.  There were neon beer
signs all over the walls and the floor was littered with peanut
hulls and cigarette butts.  It was a lot noisier, too.  A jukebox
next to a small dance floor was almost drowned out by the
laughter and loud talk from tables where groups of men were
sharing pitchers of beer. 

"The steaks here are supposed to be very good," Bambi said loudly
so her voice would carry over the noise.  "But we can try
somewhere else if you don't like this place?"

The atmosphere was pure Thank God It's Friday.  Other than the
beer-drinkers celebrating the end of the workweek, several tables
had couples out for a good time and only two tables, besides
ours, had families who were just there for the food.  I spotted a
couple of tables occupied by groups of girls who were there to
flirt.  I could tell that because of all the furtive primping and
the tugging at clothes that were too tight.  I was relieved to
see them because I had been feeling a little out of place in my
blue mini-dress with the halter-top that connected to a small
gold chain that went around the back of my neck.  It was backless
and one-piece.  I had worn it because it was easy to pull on and
didn't have any buttons, zippers or clasps that would have
required two hands to operate.  It was also very stylish and had
a neckline that plunged almost to my waist.  It was wonderfully
comfortable, as all the clothes from Morton's shop were.

The 6440 looked like it had started out as a restaurant with
roadhouse ambiance, but then had turned into the real thing.  The
energy of the place had me tapping my feet to the music.

I shook my head at Bambi.  "This place is fine with me!" I said.
Neeka, Bud and Jim all nodded their assent, as well.  This joint
was much livelier than many of the places they had been with
'Oaks' or 'Elms' or 'Terrace' in the name.  The loud music and
laughter made me feel like anything might happen.

Our waitress was a plump middle-aged woman who didn't bother to
introduce herself.  She put a bucket of old-looking unshelled
peanuts on the table and took our drink orders with only the
minimum necessary effort.

"OK, that's two teas, two cokes and a water," she said.  "You
gonna want salads?"  She asked it like it was going to be a great
deal of trouble for her to deal with bringing us salads, yet she
didn't seem any happier when we declined.

She brought our drinks and we ordered our steaks from a
chalk-board list hanging on the wall.  When I asked for the
Colorado-cut t-bone, medium-rare, she looked at me like she was
about to say something, but the shrugged and noted it on her pad.
 Obviously she figured if I ordered it, it was no business of
hers if I finished it or not.

The food was slow in coming, and we each had one refill of our
drinks while we listened to the music and watched the other
patrons getting more relaxed and rowdier with every pitcher of
beer or round of drinks.  When I was halfway through my second
glass of tea, I had to go pee.  After a quick mental conference
with Neeka, we both got up and headed for the restrooms, which
were inconveniently located on the far side of the dance floor.

As we crossed the floor, skirting the few people on it, I watched
to see if I could tell what, if any particular dance they were
doing.  Yvette had never let me near any social function where
you got to touch a member of the opposite sex, so the only
dancing I had done was in my room, trying to mimic some steps I
had seen on TV.  These people just seemed to be making up their
own steps to the music.  Apparently dancing was easier than I had
thought.

When I heard the whistles and cat-calls, I looked around to see
what the fuss was about.  A group of guys in their 20's waved at
us, trying to get us to come over to their booth.  I waved back,
but didn't stop.

The restroom looked like it hadn't been cleaned for a week.  I
hiked up my short skirt and managed to pee without making contact
with the questionable toilet seat, then Neeka and I spent the
minimum possible time checking our hair and makeup in the mirror
so we could get out of there before we caught something.

We were about to leave when I noticed a coin-operated dispenser
on the wall.  I pointed it out to Neeka when I saw that it sold
condoms in a variety of colors and flavors.  I had never seen a
condom machine in a women's restroom before.  Actually, I had
never seen a condom machine before at all.  I was tempted to put
in 50 cents just for the souvenir, but Neeka shook her head and I
decided it wasn't worth washing my hands all over again after
touching the machine.

When we left the restroom, two of the guys who had called to us
from the table next to the dance floor were waiting in the short
hallway.  They both had on denim work-clothes, but neither looked
or smelled like he had just got off work.  They both looked like
they had got cleaned up before going out and one of them either
had on cologne or the loudest smelling deodorant made.  It just
about masked the beer on their breath.

The one who closed in on me was only a few inches taller than I
am.  His shirt had the sleeves torn off, I guessed to better
show-off his biceps, which could have used some more work.  He
had short, curly brown hair and didn't look at all bad, in a
rugged, rednecky sort of way.

"Hi there, cutie!" He said, leaning over close to talk into my
ear over the noise of the jukebox.  "What's your name?"

I had heard of worse lines, even if none of them had been
directed at me.  This was actually the first time a stranger had
tried to pick me up and I was thrilled at the novelty of it.

"I'm Sam," I said.  "What's your name?"

He smiled and dropped his eyes to look at my chest before he
answered.  "I'm Dave.  I haven't seen you here before."

I glanced at Neeka before I answered.  She was talking to Dave's
buddy, probably having the same conversation.  

"I haven't been here before.  This looks like a fun place."

"It can be.  Do you like to have fun?"

"Yes, I do."

"Would you like to come back to my table and visit?  There are
three of us who would like to get to know you better?"

"I'd like to, but I'm here with friends.  I'll dance with you
until our food comes, though."

"OK, but at least let me introduce you around first."

I nodded and Dave led the way back to his friends.  The one who
had come with him hadn't appealed to Neeka.  She had gone back to
our table to sit with Jim.  I asked her to let me know when our
food was served.

When we got to the booth, there were two guys waiting.  The one
who had struck out with Neeka was on one side and the third
friend was on the other.  I hung my purse on the coat hook next
to the booth and slid in beside the third guy.

I expected Dave to sit down opposite me, but he slid into the
booth next to me instead.  I was squeezed in between Dave and one
of his buddies, who half-turned to give me a bit of room.  He
didn't seem to mind at all having me pressed against him.

Without my seat-cushion, I was back to being the shortest person
at the table.  The bench seats of the booth were narrow and close
to the table.  My boobs were forced over the edge.  If I wasn't
careful, I would bump into someone's glass and get beer spilled
all over me.

Dave pointed to the guy across from me.  "That's TJ," he said.

"Hi, TJ," I said, "I'm Sam.  Nice to meet you."

TJ was bordering on chubby, but it didn't look too bad on him. 
He had dark hair, which he unfortunately had decided to wear in a
mullet.  I thought mullets had gone out of style before I was
born.

"And the fella next to you is Gator."

"Gator?" I asked.  Gator nodded and offered me a hand, which I
shook politely.

Dave leaned close to my left ear and said, "His real name is
Claude, but he don't like it, so we call him Gator."

Gator had on a fancy hat with an alligator band.  The dark
sweat-stains that showed through the brim told me it was clearly
a prized possession and he rarely took it off.  I thought he
might be getting a little thin on top and wore the hat to cover
it.

"Give Sam a beer," Dave told TJ.  TJ slid an already-full glass
over in front of me.

"Oh, I really don't think I should..." I started to say.  I
didn't want to tell them that I had hated the only taste of
alcohol I'd ever had.

"Aw, cmon!" TJ said.  "One beer won't hurt you none." He edged it
co close to me that I had to pick it up or have it dumped onto my
boobs.

Once I had the glass in my hand, it seemed only polite to take a
sip.  The beer wasn't nearly as nasty tasting as I expected.  It
certainly didn't have the tongue-curling flavor of the bourbon
that Fiona Morgan liked.  I took another sip and then another. 
Dave, Gator and TJ watched me expectantly, so I took a long pull
and drained half the glass.

When I put it down, TJ said, "Way to go girl!" and filled my
glass again from the pitcher.  I kept my hand on the glass, but
left it on the table.  I wanted to see how the beer would affect
me before I drank any more of it.

"You guys come here a lot?" I asked.

"Every payday," Dave said, "Regular as clockwork.  We come to
drink beer and meet pretty girls like you."  To emphasize that he
was talking about me, Dave patted my knee under the table.

"Why thank you, Dave," I said.  "How nice of you to say."  Dave's
hand was still on my knee, just resting lightly.  I wondered how
long it would be before it moved.

"So, do you guys work together?" I asked.

"Yeah," Gator said.  "We all work for this pulpwood company. 
Dave and me handle the chainsaws and TJ here runs the grapple."

"I know what a chainsaw is," I said.  "But what's a grapple?"

Gator said, "Oh that's a big ol' claw hanging off the back of a
two-ton truck.  That's how the logs get onto the transport trucks
that haul it to the mill down on the coast.  TJ just drops the
claw down and GRABS the wood."  

As he said 'grabs', Gator demonstrated my grabbing my right thigh
with his left hand, and squeezing hard about halfway from my hip
to my knee.  I flinched and squirmed in his grip, as he
expected.

There was a general laugh at my expense over what I figured was a
joke they had pulled more than once.  To cover my embarrassment
at being caught like that, I took another drink of my beer.  The
flavor seemed different this time, a little less bitter.  I
smacked my lips and wondered if I liked the flavor or not.  There
wasn't much to say for it, but it seemed to grow on me.  I drank
some more, and JT obligingly topped off my glass.

While I watched the amber liquid pour, I began to feel more
relaxed.  There was a soft buzz in my ears and the noise level in
the restaurant seemed to drop off.  At the same time, I started
to feel a warm sensation in the pit of my stomach and a tingling
in my pussy and my breasts.  I thought the beer must be affecting
me.  The sensations seemed mild and harmless, so I took another
drink.  This time everyone joined me.

When they put their glasses down, they were all empty but for
mine, so I picked it up again and finished it off, too.

"That's the ticket!" Dave said.

"Yeah," Gator said, "we appreciate a girl who can keep up with
us.  TJ!  Where's your manners?  Sam's glass is empty!"

TJ filled me up again and waved to the waitress for a fresh
pitcher.  Beer refills seemed to have priority in the 6440,
because it arrived very quickly.  Beer drinkers also seemed to be
on a pay-as-you-go basis, too.  I thought that was probably a
wise policy, since otherwise there might be drunken disagreements
over how many refills you had had.

While we were drinking, both Dave's and Gator's hands wandered
further up my thighs.  They had my legs pulled apart, my knees
pressed against theirs and they were moving their fingers around.
 I felt sorry for TJ, it looked like he wound up on the wrong
side of the table tonight.

"I hope you won't take this the wrong way," Dave said earnestly,
"But you have a hell of a nice rack there." 

"A what?" I said, innocently.

"These things here," Dave said, stroking my exposed flesh with
his left hand.

"Why, thank you!" I said, giggling.  "I'm happy you like them."

"You know, Gator here has a rare talent, TJ said.  "He can guess
your size, just from one feel."  Gator nodded and smiled at me.

"Really?" I said.  "I bet you can't."  I pulled my shoulders back
and pushed my chest out, turning halfway toward Gator to give him
an opportunity to prove his claim.

Gator slid his right hand into the top of my dress and cupped my
left breast with it.  He spread his fingers wide and tried to get
as big a feel of me as he could.  He squeezed gently and hefted
my breast while he thought it over.

"Gee," he said, "I dunno.  I never felt any this big before. 
This is gonna be hard."

"My nipples are what's going to be hard," I said.  "If you don't
hurry up."

Of course, Gator had to check that out for himself.  He slid his
hand out to the end of my breast and felt my nipple.

"Oh, it's getting hard, OK," he said, rolling my nipple between
his fingers.  "Damn, guys.  Her nipples are big too!"

"That's enough," I said, turning so Gator's hand slipped out of
my dress.  "Maybe Dave can guess."  I turned toward Dave to give
him the same chance as his friend.

I looked Dave right in the eye as he put his hand on my breast. 
When he squeezed, I moaned and pressed my breast into his hand. 
He felt me for a bit, and then rolled my nipple between his
fingers.  "I can't tell," he said.

"Take a guess," I said, huskily.

"F?" Dave said, "Double-F?"

"Pooh!"  I said.  "You guys are frauds.  I'm a double-H for your
information."  A sly smile came to my face as I said, "I bet you
can't guess what color panties I have on, either."

"Oh, now how would we be able to ..." Dave said, sliding his hand
the last couple of inches up my thigh and running his fingers
against my hot pussy.  He felt around like he kept expecting to
find my underwear someplace, but I wasn't wearing any, as usual.

"Took you long enough," I said, squirming my butt around
invitingly.

Dave took the hint and slid a finger into my slit.  I leaned back
in the booth and let him feel around.  Shortly, Gator caught on
and got in on the action.  With both their hands groping me and
fingering me, my pussy was very quickly steaming.

I spread my legs as far apart as I could and hooked my knees over
the legs of my two fondlers.  I scooted my butt forward on the
bench and tilted my hips to give them even more access to me.

My eagerness was rewarded when Gator pushed two fingers roughly
inside me and Dave found my clit.  I grinned and said, "Still
can't guess what color they are?  Maybe you need a clue?"

Neither Dave or Gator seemed inclined to guess, so I asked JT,
"Can you guess, TJ?  Can you guess what your friends are doing to
me right now?"

I gasped as Gator curled a finger around and touched my g-spot. 
Dave pressed on my swollen clit and my eyes rolled briefly back
in my head, as the sensation swept over me.

TJ leaned over and peeked under the table.  He was under there so
long I kicked him to get him to sit up again.

"Don't be obvious, TJ," I continued in a conversational tone to
disguise what was going on.  "Watch my face.  It's much more
interesting to watch a girl's face when she cums.  Oh!  OH, Yes!
Gator!  Right there.  Rub me right there.  That's right. 
Aaaaaaaaahhh. TJ, Gator has found my g-spot and he's massaging it
for me.  Guys don't have anything like this, so they have no idea
how good this feels."  

I put my head back against the wooden seatback and closed my eyes
to savor the experience of being manhandled in public by two
complete strangers.  If was fantastically decadent.  I probably
would have let them do it to me, even without all the beer and
whatever they had slipped into that first drink.  I was pretty
sure it was Rohypnol or some other date-rape drug.  They had no
way of knowing that my metabolism was so accelerated trying to
repair the damage to my hand that I had burned it up in the first
minute.  The alcohol lasted only a few seconds before the buzz
wore off.  It occurred to me that I was probably immune to a lot
of poisons.  As long as I could recognize what was happening in
time, I could deal with it before it did me any harm.

"Mmmmmmmm.  Yes.  TJ, Dave has his hand right on my clit and he's
pulling on it.  I'm so sensitive there that I can feel his
fingerprints with my clit.  When he touches me it just drives me
wild.  Ooohhhhhhhh!  Damn.  That feels sooo goooood.  I think
these two have done this before.  Hunh?  Is this what you guys do
for fun on Fridays?  Finger-fuck girls until they scream for
mercy?"

When I opened my eyes to look at TJ, I saw three heads looking
back.  At first, I thought it was the alcohol, but then I
realized that the party in the next booth had heard my
play-by-play and had turned around to watch.  One of the heads
belonged to a girl.  She and her boyfriend were probably out on a
date and had come to the 6440 looking for a good time.  I decided
to try to show them what one looked like.

"God, I'm so hot!  You guys really know how to handle a girl. 
I'm so turned on I could almost let you fuck me right here on the
table.  Would you like that?  Would we get in trouble if you
stripped me naked and took turns fucking me right here on the
table with me screaming for your hard cocks?

"Ohhhhhhh!  That feels good.  C'mon Gator, see if you can get
another finger in me.  Stretch my pussy out with your big
fingers.  Yes, like that. Come on, push it in me.  You're making
me feel so good.  I'm on fire!"

I put my hands into the sides of my halter and started squeezing
my breasts and pulling on my nipples.  I let my mouth hang open
and licked my lips while I stared into the eyes of TJ, the guy
behind him and the girl.

The girl looked like she was getting more turned on by my lewd
display than either TJ or her boyfriend.  When I stuck my tongue
out of my mouth, I saw hers peeking out between her lips, too.  I
would have bet anything that she had her hand down her shorts and
was playing with herself while she watched me.

"Oooooo.  You've got me so wet!  My pussy is so sopping wet I bet
it's dripping all over the floor.  I'm just sliding around in the
pussy juice.  Please don't let me slide of onto the floor.

"Come on, Gator, fuck me faster with those strong hard fingers. 
Make me think that's your cock in there.  That's it.  Deeper. 
Faster.  Yeah.  Oh, yeah!  I'm almost there, guys.  I'm almost
ready to pop.  Just a little bit more, Dave.  Pull my clit just a
little bit harder.  That's it...that's it.....AAAAaaaahhhhhhhhh!
YES!  I'm cumming!  I'm cumming all over your hands. 
MMMmmmmmmmmmm!"

Dave and Gator kept it going while I came.  TJ looked so flushed
and sweaty that I think he came, too.  My audience in the next
booth was scrambling to pay their check and get somewhere private
as quickly as they could.

I was still pretty well still into my orgasm when I heard Neeka
tell me that our food had arrived.  I sighed and borrowed Dave's
napkin to mop up between my legs.  

When I wasn't drippling juice anymore, I scooted against Dave,
forcing him out of the booth.  He seemed surprised that I was
able to escape so easily.  I'm sure he thought he had me
trapped.

I pulled my dress back down and my boobs back into place, got my
purse and helped Dave sit back down next to Gator.  He was about
to say something about 'you can't leave now' when I fished my new
leather wallet out of my purse and flipped it open to show my
badge.  You would have thought I had tossed a cottonmouth
moccasin on the table, the way they all jumped.

"OK, guys.  We've all had a lot of fun.  Well, I've had a lot of
fun and you got to help, and I appreciate it.  But...if you
turkeys ever give another girl drugs to try to get into her pants
again, I promise I will hunt you down and cut your balls off. 
Are we clear on that?"  I got three very stunned nods.

"Good.  OK, TJ.  Let's have that shit in your shirt pocket."

I held out my hand.  When he didn't move fast enough, I snapped
my fingers.  The sound seemed to wake him up and he handed over a
small vial of fine white powder.

"Now you guys have another beer or three and think about this
learning experience" I said.

I was about to pick up my badge and walk off when Dave decided to
call what he thought was my bluff.

"That ain't a real badge!"  He said.  "And you ain't a real
cop!"

I leaned over him and smiled at him sweetly, as if I was about to
admit that I had just been pulling his leg.  Then I reached down
and grabbed his thigh the same way Gator had grabbed mine.  Only
I pinched all the way to the bone, and then I rubbed the bone.

Dave squirmed and thrashed so hard I thought he would hurt poor
Gator.  I had to grab his left arm to keep him from hitting me
accidentally.  He wasn't trying to fight back.  He was in far too
much pain to mount any effective defense against me.  His eyes
popped and his face tensed and his mouth strained open in a
soundless scream.  I hung on for a full ten-count and then I let
go.

Dave slumped like a puppet with the strings cut.  He fell against
Gator, clutching his leg and whining in pain.  TJ and Gator
looked like they were about to lose their lunch.  They looked
from me to my badge to Dave and back at me with sick
expressions.

I told them, "Now if you guys think I won't have your balls on a
plate if you ever think of doing this to anyone else, you just
try me."

This time I got no back-talk.  I folded my wallet, put it back in
my purse and walked back to my family.

"Nothing like having sex with three rapists before dinner to whet
the appetite," I thought.

When I sat down at the table to start on my steak, I put the vial
next to my plate where I could keep an eye on it.

"What's that?" Jim asked.  Neeka snorted and poked him with a
finger.  He jumped, but didn't take the hint.  He looked at me,
waiting for an answer.

"Some kind of drug," I said.  "I took it off three rapists."

"You what?" Bambi said.  With the noise level in the place, I
wasn't sure if she hadn't heard me or just wished she hadn't.

I leaned over toward her and said, "The three guys I was visiting
with are a rape-gang.  They drug girls and take them out in the
woods and rape them.  They probably leave them there and make
them walk home by themselves, wondering what the hell happened. 
I took away their drug and gave them a warning.

"The irony is they're not so offensive that they need to resort
to that.  They could probably have just as much fun if they just
tried charm instead of dope.  I hope I put that idea into their
heads."

Bud asked, "Did you know this when you sat down with them?"

"No," I said, around a mouthful of steak.  "I didn't.  I didn't
know until I saw how they looked at me after I drank that first
beer.  They were obviously watching me to see how quick I would
go under.  I knew then what was going on and I decided to play
along."

"But you took the drug?"  Jim asked.  "And it didn't affect
you?"

"Only slightly," I said.  "I got more of a buzz off the beer."  I
looked at Bambi.  "I think we can add another one to the list."



When we got home, Bambi went into full Mom-mode on me.  She gave
me hell about letting strangers pick me up, letting them ply me
with alcohol, and letting them try to drug me and haul me off to
the woods.

"How about letting them make me cum in a public restaurant with
people watching?" I asked.

She blushed a bright red color when I reminded her of that.  I
got the impression that she wished she had been in the next booth
watching while that was going on.

"Don't change the subject," she said. "You shouldn't be
experimenting with drugs.  That's the main thing."

"Should I be risking my life and limb, saving hostages from
certain death or worse?"

She didn't have an answer to that, so she caved.

"All right.  I confess.  I worry.  This whole superhero business
scares me.  I know I promised to support you.  I'm trying my best
to stand behind you, but it still scares the hell out of me when
you put yourself in danger."

"I'm sorry if this scares you.  It scares me, too.  When I go up
against someone who is willing to kill and is equipped to do it,
it scares the crap out of me.  But I steel myself to do it
anyway.  I need to be able to get my head into a place where I
can focus on what needs to be done, without thinking about how
scared I am.  I need to be stone cold fearless if I am going to
be any good at this at all.  One day it may even save my life.  I
had that point brought home to me very clearly this afternoon."

"I care about you.  And I worry.  Please be careful."

"Thank you.  I promise not to take any unnecessary risks if I can
help it.  The problem is, I need to take risks that may not look
like they're necessary at the time.  Sometimes, you just have to
go around turning over rocks to see what's underneath.  Like
tonight.  If I hadn't gone back to their table and drunk beer
with them, I never would have known what they were up to.  Some
poor girl might be lying out in the woods right now, hurt and
alone, with a big hole in her memory and a long walk home in the
dark.  I think what I did is far better than the cops coming
along after the fact and catching the people responsible.

"I wish I'd never seen the faces of those kids this afternoon. 
I'd give almost anything to have been able to prevent them from
being in that situation."

"Is that why you decided to 'turn over rocks', as you call it?"

"Yeah.   It's a lot easier to prevent a crime than to stop one in
progress or to clean up afterwards.  In this case it was a lot
more fun, too; in all sorts of ways.  If I can be there to jerk a
knot in someone when they are still in the thinking stage, then I
have not only saved the victim, I've saved the perpetrator,
too!"

"Is that why you let those men off so light tonight?  I would
have been truly pissed at them when I found out what they were
trying to do."

"I think knocking their heads together might have been
emotionally satisfying for me, but it wouldn't have been the
educational experience they needed.  That's why I flashed my
badge.  I wanted them to know that Official Notice had been taken
of their activities."

"Then you should tell Bob Foster about what you discovered.  Make
an official report." Bambi advised.

"That's a good idea.  If the police find evidence of a crime that
matches their MO, they'll know where to start investigating. 
Even if it wasn't them, those gomers will know that they haven't
got a prayer of getting away with anything.

"I don't like the idea of being on-record officially, though. 
That's just the sort of thing I'm trying to avoid.  I need to
have an informal channel into local law enforcement.  Something
that could work both ways.  Something a good bit lower than the
Sheriff.  And I think I know just who that might be."



A call to the Sheriff's office told me that the unit I wanted was
working the second shift and would not be off duty until 11pm.  I
didn't want to wait that long, so I spent a few minutes with
Neeka in the newly renovated workshop brushing up on radio
operations and etiquette.  When we were dressed and ready I made
the call.

"Delta-Romeo-One calling unit Bravo-Three-Niner."  I thought I
sounded very professional.  It was only a couple of seconds
before I got an answer.

"Bravo-Three-Nine, go ahead."

"Bravo-Three-Nine, go to Tac-3."  Tac-3 was one of the channels
used for special operations when they wanted to get their
conversations off the main channel.  I hadn't been specifically
authorized to use it, but there was nobody on it at the moment. 


"Copy, Delta-Romeo.  Going to Tac-3."  I clicked over to the
private channel and waited a few seconds.

"Bravo-Three-Nine, what's your 20?" I asked.

"We're Southbound on Grove, passing de Leon.  What's up, DR-1?"

"Three-Nine, can you 10-56 at Brownlow Park in 15?  I have some
information for you."

"Can do, DR-1, it's pretty quiet out here right now.  Uh, excuse
me DR-1, have we met?"  The radio was too good.  He recognized my
voice.

"It's your fairy godmother, Murphy.  See you in 15.  Tac-3 is
clear."

Neeka jumped on the bike and started throwing switches while I
propped the doors open.  When she was ready, I got on and she
fired the thing up and shot us into the night.



Riding at night was much the same to me as riding in the day,
since I kept my eyes shut the whole way.  We arrived at the park
early and Neeka parked the bike out of sight behind a dumpster. 
We waited behind some bushes next to the small parking lot.  

Brownlow was just a small community playground with some
well-worn swings and see-saws.  No one used it at night. 
Probably because the only light was a streetlight next to the
parking lot.  

The black-and-white patrol car that was unit B39 rolled up right
on time and pulled into a parking spot a few feet away.  It was a
mild night, so they had their windows down and we could see
Murphy and Rosario clearly.  When they turned off their
headlights, I got down on all fours and started to crawl toward
the car.

I was alongside the driver's door when I heard Murphy tell his
partner, "...the truth.  Honest, Bert!  The Sheriff told me to
keep quiet about her, but if she turned up to do anything she
asked and not ask any questions."

I stuck my head up next to the open window and said sharply,
"Good evening, Murphy!"

Both deputies jumped like they'd been shot.  I thought it would
be harder to sneak up on a couple of cops, but it was almost too
easy.

"Jesus!  Don't do that!  Please!" Rosario said.

"What's wrong, Bert?  Bad heart?" I said.

"Not yet," he said, "but I'm getting there."

Rosario flinched again when he realized that Neeka was standing
next to his window.  She could be sneaky too, when she tried. 
She smiled reassuringly, but left the talking to me.

"I'll get right to it, guys," I said.  "I don't want to hold you
up, but I need to talk."

"Sure, anything," Murphy said.  He and Rosario got out to stretch
their legs and I crawled up on the hood of their car and sat with
my legs crossed.  This way, I wouldn't be talking up to them
quite as badly.  Neeka stood a few feet away, making Rosario
nervous by staring at him.

I said, "Do you get any calls out at the 6440?"

"Yes, ma'am.  We're out there pretty regularly.  Mostly fights
and stuff," Murphy said.

"Any drugs?"

"Some possession.  No trafficking, if that's what you mean."

"How about rape?  You pick up any girls on the road that look
like they've been doped?"

"Just about a month ago we had a call about a lost girl out that
way.   She looked like she'd been roughed up a little and she was
pretty out of it, but she didn't say anything about rape."

"Probably because she couldn't remember it."  I dug the vial out
of my pack and handed it to Murphy.  "I think this is Rohypnol,
or something similar.  I'd appreciate it if you'd have the lab
look at it and let me know if I'm right."

"No problem.  What's going on?"

"I got this off three good-old-boys out at the 6440 tonight. 
They tried to use it to take advantage of someone who turned out
to be a lot more than they could handle."

Murphy smiled.  "I guess I know who that was."

"Yeah.  Well, I thought maybe this wasn't the first time they had
tried something like that."  I gave him a description of the
three and the names that they had given me, along with their
possible employment and what I suspected they had been doing with
the girls.

"So you think the victims are either too embarrassed to report it
or they just can't remember because of the drugs?"

"That's the idea.  I tried to give them a proper respect for the
law, but I wanted someone to know about this in case they
backslide."

"Hey, thanks.  We'll keep an eye out for them.  It's always
easier when you know who the players are."

"No trouble at all, Murphy.  Now you tell me something.  Are
those kids OK?"

He didn't need any prompting about which kids we were talking
about.

"Yes ma'am.  They came through fine.  They were just a little
rattled.  Once we got them and their mothers out of there, they
calmed right down."

"I'm very glad to hear that.  That makes me feel a lot better."

Murphy looked at me like he just figured out that the kids
weren't the only ones who had been upset.  He wanted to say
something, but he didn't have a clue what to say.

"Tell me something else, Murphy.  Tell me how I can help."

"I'm not sure...."

"Who are the bad guys?  Where are they?  Where do you want them
and in how many pieces?"

Murphy look stunned.  He looked like someone had just shown him a
bomb and asked where to drop it.  The temptation must have
incredible.  After all, Murphy knew what I could do.  He'd seen
it.

"I wish it was that simple," he said.  "I really do, ma'am.  But
the fact is, if we knew who they were, we'd be watching them
every second of the day, making sure that they never got the
chance to hurt anyone.

"But it doesn't work that way.  The really bad guys don't all
wear black hats or have thin mustaches or tattoos or anything to
set them apart from everyone else.  They look just like you or me
or...well like me or Bert or anyone.  They even act like anybody
else until they do something bad.  You've seen the TV interviews:
"he seemed like such a nice man" right before he took an axe to
his family.

"Bert and I are supposed to be out here protecting people, but
sometimes it seems like we're just referees at a fight, or
janitors, because mostly we just come along afterward and clean
up the mess."

Murphy held up the vial of white powder.  "You found three
tonight and prevented a felony.  You're way ahead of us.  We
wrote a few speeding tickets and gave a homeless man a ride to a
shelter.  So you tell me, ma'am   how'd you do it?"

"They found me, Murphy," I said, sighing.  "I was in the right
place at the right time."

"That's something you can do that we can't.  When we're around,
folks are on their best behavior.  A lot of our job is just
cruising around to discourage crime by being seen.  You can go
places and not be seen.  Or you can go places and not be
suspected.  You can be there when it happens and make a
difference in how it turns out.  Or keep it from happening at
all."

"I vote for not happening at all," Rosario said.  "Man, I get
tired of seeing people scared and hurt and all I can do is write
up a report or collect evidence so that if the perp ever does get
caught we'll be able to add another line to his sheet."

"So where do I go?" I asked.  "Where is the right place and when
is the right time?" 

"You want to know somewhere a crime is likely to happen?" Murphy
said.  "All right.  You know that all-night convenience store
down by the railroad track on South 15?"

I nodded.  I had never been in the place, but I had seen it.  I
thought it was closed, out of business.  If it had a name, I'd
never heard it.

"You go down there.  You won't have to wait long.  Either someone
will get mugged or someone will get shot or stabbed, or beat up
or OD on something.  It's the armpit of the county.  We have to
send a car out there three times a night some weekends."

"Why not just sit there and wait?" I asked.

"Because we can't stay there all day and all night.  And as soon
as we leave   the rats come out of their holes."

"Man, what do you want to tell her that for?" Bert asked. 
"That's no place for her."

"Why not, Bert?" I asked.

"I mean, look at you," Bert said.  "There are some very nasty
people around there.  They'd be all over a pretty girl like you.
You wouldn't last ten minutes."

"What did you tell him, Murphy?"  I asked, puzzled.

"The truth.  I don't think he believes me."

"You mean that BS about catching bullets and all?  I'm a Cubano
from Missouri, man."

I smiled at his joke.  It was clear that Bert wanted to be shown
and I was in a mood to show him.  I looked at Neeka.  We had a
short, silent discussion.

I walked over to a signpost next to the parking lot entrance.  It
looked like it had been run over by a careless driver.  The post
was bent over and the badly scraped sign was touching the ground.
 It said, "No Parking 11pm-7am".

"Looks like someone damaged some county property, Bert," I said.
"Why don't you fix it?"

Bert looked suspicious.  The pole was a two-inch thick steel
tube.  We could tell because of the traces of rust showing where
it had been hit.  He kicked at the dirt at the base of the sign
and we could see that it was sunk in a hole filled with
concrete.

Bert tugged at the pole and said, "Couldn't move that sucker
without a crane, man.  Must have been hit by the garbage truck
when they came for the dumpster.  It's bent in that direction."

I admired his deductive reasoning.  Maybe Bert would make a good
detective some day.  I stepped over to the pole and grabbed it
with both hands just under the bottom of the metal sign.  With
one quick heave and an incredibly loud squeal of tortured metal I
pulled it upright again.

Bert stared at the sign and then at me.  He was looking for how
the trick was done.

I stepped away from the sign and into the glare of the
streetlight.

"Bert," I said, "meet The Dragon."  And I gave him the fully
animated version from two feet away.

He didn't flinch or jump, but all the color drained out of his
face and he went as stiff as the lamppost behind him.

"Tha...that crap about you catching a bullet...." he stammered.

"Was the unvarnished truth.  You've seen what happens to people
who mess with me.  They usually leave horizontally and bleeding.
But I'm trying to get away from that.  I'd like to save sending
people to the emergency room for a last resort.  It's emotionally
satisfying, but by the time things come to that, the damage has
already been done.  I want to try to get ahead of the game.  I
want to meet and greet the folks most likely to commit the
crimes.  I want them to know that if they decide to hurt someone,
then they will get a visit from The Dragon.  Maybe the word will
get around that crime is a poor choice of career in this town."

Bert had got some of his color back, but he was having a hard
time keeping eye contact with me.  I dropped the Dragon and went
back to my regular face.  His shoulders dropped and he went back
to breathing normally again.

"Distracting, isn't it?" I asked.

"Unhunh.  How do you..." he began.

"Sorry.  No questions, remember?"

"Oh!  Right.  Sure.  OK."  It was obvious that Bert couldn't
think of a single thing that wasn't a question.

"I'd appreciate some word-of-mouth.  It will save time on
introductions, if you know what I mean," I said.  "If you get a
chance to do some name-dropping   say while transporting some
perp who you think may have friends in the same line of work  
let them overhear you talk about the grisly things I did to some
hard case they may have heard of.  Make up something horrible. 
Heck, if you can't make something up, tell them what I did to
Bubba Carstairs."

Murphy and Rosario got so quiet I could hear frogs croaking in
the distance.  Rosario looked like he had a bad taste in his
mouth and Murphy looked like he was about to throw up.

"That was you?" Murphy asked in a quiet tone.

"Yeah."

"Jesus."

They were both silent for a while, then Murphy said, "During
their escape they cut up a prison guard pretty bad.  They must
have had it in for him.  So, when the bulletin came out on them,
it was the closest thing to a shoot-on-sight order we'd ever had.
 Nobody thought they would let themselves be taken without a
fight and everyone expected a bloodbath.  When word went out that
they'd been recaptured, everyone who'd been kept on from the
earlier shift was released.  Instead of taking off, we
volunteered for guard duty at the hospital so we could get the
story on how it went down."

Bert spoke up, "We stood watch on Carstairs and Brenneke while
they were waiting to go into surgery.  We took turns sitting in
the room with them.  Neither of us could stand it for very long.
It turned our stomachs."

Murphy continued, "We've seen people busted up before.  We've
seen them stabbed, shot, cut, and beaten.  I was with a rescue
team who tried to free a construction worker who got partly
buried in a ditch and drowned in his own blood before we could
get him out.  But I'd never seen anyone more scared than Brenneke
and Carstairs.  They weren't scared of dying.  They were scared
something was going to get them.  They jumped at every sound. 
Every time the door opened they'd try to crawl off the gurney."

"The doctors gave them drugs to calm them down," Bert said.  "But
it didn't seem to do any good.  The nurse couldn't get near them.
 They'd start screaming.  I didn't understand that at the time.
But she had short blonde hair like yours."  He paused for a
moment, then said, "I still hear them screaming in my dreams."

"Me too," Murphy said, shaking off the memory.  "They really got
to me.  I kept wondering: here were two of the scariest bastards
to walk on two legs   what was out there that could scare them
that bad?  Yeah, if you want a street rep, we'll talk about them.
 We won't need to make anything up."

"I thought I might have let them off light," I said.  "Do you
want to know what I did to them to scare them so bad?"

"No, ma'am" Murphy said, flatly.

"No, thank you," Bert echoed.

They were watching me you'd watch a coral snake that had just
crawled across your foot   scared to move or speak, hoping to
escape its notice.  When Neeka cranked the motorcycle, I thought
they were going to pee on themselves.

"Nice talking to you," I said as Neeka drove the bike around to
pick me up. "I'll be in touch."

I swung up behind Neeka and she tore off up the street.  The two
deputies stood and watched us disappear into the night.

"So, what do you want to do now?" Neeka asked.  The roar of the
bike wasn't a problem when you didn't have to shout over it.

"We still have a couple of hours," I said.  "Let's go fishing."



The secondhand clothing store was open late so people who worked
shifts could shop there.  Since my exotic suit would have
attracted attention, I waited around back while Neeka went in to
find me a disguise.  She came back very quickly with a threadbare
dress, a faded scarf, a cloth belt, a big plastic handbag, and a
moth-eaten throw-pillow.

"Four dollars," she said.  "I should shop here more often."

"We might," I said.  "None of my clothes will do for this.  And
if it works, I may do it again.  We'll see."

I pulled the dress over my head and stuffed the pillow up under
it and belted it in place.  I tied the scarf on my head over the
cowl so it hid my hair.  The hem of the dress brushed my ankles
and the sleeves came down to my wrists.  The parts of the suit
that showed wouldn't be noticed.

"What do you think?"  I asked Neeka.

"You need to do something with your face."

I looked into the rear-view mirror on the bike's handlebar and
concentrated.  Seconds later, I had mottled grayish skin and dark
lines across my forehead, under my eyes and down either side of
my nose.

"Hello, granny!" Neeka said.  "Try walking."

I did my best slow shuffle with stooped shoulders and hunched
back.

"Bang on!" she said.  "Even in a good light, you should pass for
an old woman."

"Let's go try it out."



Neeka coasted to a stop a couple of blocks from the all-night
convenience store.  I walked from there, trying to look helpless
and frail.  At first, I didn't think anyone was around.  The
buildings were mostly ramshackle and abandoned.  Their windows
were long since busted out and many of the doors had been kicked
in, patched, kicked in again, and finally left hanging loose on
their hinges.

As I shuffled along, I listened carefully.  When I got within
sight of the store, I heard muffled whispers coming from the
shadows ahead of me.  There were sounds of footsteps, then
nothing.

I held the handbag clutched to my chest as though it held all my
worldly possessions.  I wasn't too sure the
pillow-under-the-dress business was going to work, but I knew
that no one would buy a grandmother with a bust like mine and it
was the best I could do.

As I drew abreast of the doorway where the sounds had come from,
nothing happened.  I was tempted to stop, but I kept going, in
case they were so insecure that they felt they needed to sneak up
on old women from behind.  I had gone only a few feet when I head
footsteps behind me.  I heard one, then another, then a hand came
out of the darkness and grabbed the bag.  The purse-snatcher took
off running, intending to rip the cheap bag from my hands and be
well down the street before I could raise an alarm.

His plan was foiled by one small detail.  When he grabbed the
bag, I grabbed his wrist.  Once in my grip, he wasn't going
anywhere without me.

He ran a few feet, dragging me along with him.  Then he realized
that I wasn't going to let go and he tried to get free.  He
yanked and pulled and twisted, but it did him no good.

"Leggo!" he shouted, and pulled back his free hand to hit me.  I
yanked him closer before he could take a swing at me and got him
in a bear hug.

"C'mon sonny," I said in my best old-maid cackle, "give granny a
kiss."

This seemed to disturb him more than being caught.  He started
struggling wildly and called out, "Help!"

I thought that was the ultimate irony   a criminal calling for
help in the middle of the crime.  At the moment, it worked to my
advantage since it meant I wouldn't have to chase down his
buddies.  I squeezed him a little tighter and he called again.

"Help!  Get this bitch offa me!"

Judging by the footsteps, there were two more of them coming up
behind me.  I kept my hold on their friend until they got close
enough, then I let go of him and grabbed them instead.  These two
didn't catch on either that we were playing Br'er Rabbit and the
Tar Baby.  They grabbed my arms and held on while I slammed them
together hard enough to loosen their fillings.  When they slumped
to the sidewalk, stunned, I re-grabbed the first one and tossed
him through the nearest doorway.  From the sound of splintering
wood, this was one that still had the door in it.  I shrugged and
tossed the others after their friend.

The building was so gutted that I couldn't tell what it used to
be.  I looked around and then dragged the three menaces to
society into a small windowless room to wait for them to regain
their senses - what few they possessed.  

I stood in the doorway and looked at the haul from my first
fishing expedition.  It wasn't very impressive.  They all looked
to be in their late teens or early twenties.  Their shabby
clothes looked to be that way deliberately, rather than from
actual wear, so I assumed that they weren't orphaned street
children who had fallen into crime as a means of survival.  These
looked to be your common, garden-variety thugs who preyed on old
women because they were too lazy to have higher goals or even to
go after bigger prey.

I intended to see that this time they got far more than they
bargained for.  My problem was that I hadn't expected such quick
success from my ruse and I didn't have a plan for dealing with
them.  While their eyes stopped rolling around in their heads, I
thought over what I could do to them that would make them
reevaluate their choice of profession without causing them any
serious physical damage.

I was fresh out of creative ideas so I went with the first thing
that came into my head.

"Well, lookee here," I cackled.  "Three fine, strapping young
men.  We're going to have some fun tonight, yessirree!"

One of them sat up and stammered, "Wha..what do you want?"

"Why, I want you, young man!  It's been a long time since I had a
nice young fella like you.  You're going to make old granny
mighty happy."  I feigned undoing my belt.  "Now you boys hurry
up and get out of those clothes.  I've got an itch and you've got
just what I need to scratch it!"

All three of them looked like I'd told them they were going to be
executed at dawn.  They started crawling away from me.  I reached
down and snatched a hold on the ankle of the slowest.  He tried
to squirm away from me, but I dragged him slowly closer while
reaching for the crotch of his jeans.  When I put my hand on the
bulge in his groin, he made a noise halfway between a squeek and
a whimper.

"Yes, it's been a loooong time," I said, squeezing his balls like
they were ripe fruit in a produce bin.  "Now you boys get those
clothes off, you hear!"

When nobody moved, I unfastened the belt of the one I was holding
and before he could move, I took hold of the waistband and ripped
his pants open halfway to his knee.  He looked like he was about
to cry.  I couldn't tell if it was from shock or because I had
ruined his favorite pair of jeans.

Still nobody moved, so I used the same technique I had used on
Dave.  I grabbed the thug on the floor by the thigh muscle and
started to squeeze.  His friends watched him thrash about for a
while, but when the light dawned on them that they were next for
this treatment, they started shedding clothes.

I had to yank off one pair of boxers, but eventually I had them
mother-naked in front of me.

I looked at them and shook my head, "You boys sure are a
disappointment.  I thought I had some serious cocks here, but
instead, I got little pricks."  I picked up a pair of pants and
stripped the belt out of them.  I had been thinking about playing
with them some, messing with their heads, but they looked so
wretched and so scared that I just wanted to get it over with and
get out of there.

"I thought we could have some fun, but it looks like the only fun
I'm going to have is whipping your butts.  C'mere you!"  I
reached for the thug furthest from the door.  In doing so, I
stepped out of the doorway and gave them a way to escape.  The
first one dashed through quickly, but the second bent down for
his clothes.  I snapped the belt across his ass and he reordered
his priorities and ran after the first.

The last one I chased around the room, flailing the belt at him.
It wasn't until the second time around that he thought to make a
break for it as well.  I ran after him as far as the door of the
building and watched him run down the street after his friends. 
Then I went back inside and collected their clothes into a
bundle.  Carrying it with me, I resumed shuffling down the street
at my own slow pace.

No one else bothered me and I reached the store without further
incident.  There was a small crowd out front and I could hear
people laughing and snickering.  I walked up to the front of the
store and held out the bundle of clothes for everyone to see.

"Anyone see three boys run past here with their peepees flapping
in the breeze?" I asked of the crowd.  This produced more
laughter.

One woman flipped the ash off her cigarette and said, "Sure did!
They just ran past here like the Devil himself was after them."

I dropped the bundle on the oil-stained parking apron in front of
the store and said, "Well, if any of y'all know those boys, you
might give them their clothes back.  Or not.  It makes no
nevermind to me.  Oh, and if you see them, tell them I'll be back
to visit again real soon."

I trundled into the store to check it out.  It looked really
nasty from the outside and no better inside.  The walls and
ceiling had either been painted the ugliest shade of
brownish-yellow that could be found, or the paint had just faded
to that shade over the years.  The place had an atmosphere of age
and decay that made me feel dirty just being in it.  It looked
like the only thing that had changed in the last eighty years was
the stock, the flickering fluorescent tubes hanging from the
ceiling, and the heavy wire mesh over the front door and windows.
 Certainly there had been little effort to keep the place clean.
The floor was so grimy that it was hard to tell if it was wood or
linoleum.

Most of the place was devoted to stacks of cases of beer and
overpriced snack food.  There was a wooden magazine rack near the
single register that held pawed-over copies of garish porn
magazines.  On the wall behind the counter was a large display of
cigarettes and smokeless tobacco, along with some things that I
figured must be drug paraphernalia.  Who buys plumbing supplies
in a convenience store?

The man behind the counter looked to be in his late forties or
early fifties.  He had short gray hair above a deeply creased
face.  He wore a stained, wife-beater undershirt and had in a
holster on the front of his belt a very large, very shiny
revolver.  The wooden grip looked worn, as though the man had the
habit of rubbing it with his hand.  He was looking at me with
curious and habitually suspicious eyes.

I shuffled up to the counter and gave him the once-over.  "You
the owner?" I asked.

He nodded.  "Name's Winslow," he said.  "What can I do for you?"

"Good evening, Mr. Winslow.  I came to give you some news.  There
is something out there."  I waved my hand toward the door and
cackled, "It's mean.  It's ugly.  It's horrifying.  It's coming,
Mr. Winslow.  The Dragon is coming.  And it's hungry."

I shuffled toward the door.  When I reached it, I put my hand on
the bar and looked back.  "You tell them, Mr. Winslow.  You tell
them The Dragon is coming.  Ask them if it's coming for them. 
And while you're at it, ask yourself.  Is it coming for you,
too?"

When I went back outside, the bundle of clothes had vanished. 
Somehow I doubted that some Good Samaritan had hurried off to
return them to their owners.

As I walked away from the store, I could feel the eyes following
me.  I tried to look weak and defenseless, but after I had gone
another two blocks, there were still no more takers.

I reached the spot where Neeka was waiting for me without so much
as seeing another person.

"Everything all right," I asked her.

"Fine and dandy," she said.  "A couple of guys tried to pick me
up.  They were about to insist on my company when there was a
call on the radio.  They suddenly remembered that they had a
pressing engagement elsewhere."

"Bad guys?"

"Just pushy.  I've met jocks that were worse about not taking a
hint.  I could have handled them even if the radio hadn't scared
them off.  It's odd; I think that in this neighborhood, running
from the cops is a reflex.  How bad does the place have to be for
you to grow up doing that?"  She shrugged.  "Now, what was all
that 'The Dragon is coming' business?  I thought you were going
to tell him help was on the way."

"I was.  But when I got in there, something didn't smell right. 
The place is really run down.  It can't be worth anything.  Why
does he stay?  Loyalty to the neighborhood?  Give me a break. 
Business too good?  If so, why not use the profits to keep the
place up better.  Business bad?  Then where did he get the money
to buy the stock he has?  All those cases of beer stacked to the
ceiling.  Something's not right.  I want to know more about Mr.
Winslow before we assume he's on the right side.  It's possible
that he's not the victim we assumed he was."

I resumed my normal face and pulled off the disguise.  Neeka
stowed it in one of the storage compartments on the bike.  I
might be able to use it again.  The fishing trip idea had worked
out better than I had hoped.  Old ladies on this street would be
safe for a while.

During the ride back home, I thought about how well the disguise
had worked.  In the dark of the street, I had passed.  The crowd
outside the store hadn't had a much better look at me, so I
passed there too.  Winslow had the best look, under the harsh
fluorescents in the store, but even if he hadn't bought the 'old
lady', even if he saw straight through it, what had he seen?  My
height?  Maybe.  I had tried to hunch over, but you can only
fudge your size so far.  My hair?  Hidden under the cowl and the
scarf.  Skin tone?  The suit covered my skin except for my face.
The suit was colorless.  It would be the average of the color in
the room.  In dim light, it was impossible to see.  In the store
it had looked brown   halfway between the filthy floor and the
walls.  My shape?  Distinctive in normal clothes, my outline and
contours were hard to make out under the suit.  Just as the
dazzle-art on the walls of the workshop made it hard to judge the
size of the room, the suit made it hard to see my body under it.
If I was moving, it would be impossible to say much more than I
was small and possibly female.

My face?  That was my ace.  I could make my face look like
anything at all.  My ability to do the moving dragon so
effectively was the best demonstration of that.  The uneven gray,
seamed complexion I adopted along with the clothes completely
obscured my true appearance.

I decided that I didn't have to have Oscar-caliber acting skills
or an elaborate collection of makeup appliances.  I didn't need
to be a credible old woman, or whatever disguise I wanted to use.
 I just needed to be unrecognizable as me.  I was sure I could
handle that.

Thinking of handling things reminded me of the way I had handled
the three young thugs who tried to steal my purse.  I was
disappointed that I couldn't think of something better than
taking their clothes and sending them home naked.  It seemed kind
of juvenile.  Still, until I had much better control over my
strength, I wanted to avoid thumping people unless there was a
real good reason for it.

Maybe taking their clothes wasn't too bad a lesson anyway.  It
was embarrassing, it was memorable, and it made them feel as
defenseless and vulnerable as their victims felt.  



When we got home, Bambi was waiting for us in the workshop.

"You were gone longer than I expected," she said.  "I decided to
listen to the radio to see if anything was going on."

"We went fishing," Neeka said.

"Unhunh.  Why do I get the feeling that no worms were harmed on
this fishing trip?"

"Hey," I said, "speaking on behalf of bait in general, I object
to that sarcastic tone!  Us woims have a tuff life, OK?"

"So, did you catch anything?"  Bambi was trying hard to hide how
concerned she was that I had been out putting myself deliberately
in harm's way.  She really wanted to know how close I had come to
being in actual danger, but she couldn't just ask right out.

"We caught three little fishes, but I skinned them and threw them
back," I said.

"You what?"  She got lost in my metaphor, but she still laughed.

"I caught three hoods who tried to steal my purse.  I let them
go, but I kept their clothes.  It must be hard to pass yourself
off as a tough guy when you've been stripped and run through the
streets with your shortcomings on full display."

"That's funny!" Bambi giggled.  "But why not just have them
arrested?"

"I thought about that," I said.  "But since I was the victim, it
would mean pressing charges, testifying, the whole legal scene. 
I can't do that, obviously.  Also, in their peer group, being
busted just gives you status and credibility.  Crooks are a
stupid bunch, generally.  You'd think that a crook that didn't
get caught would have a higher status than one that did, but
apparently it works the other way around.  Failure is success. 
Bad is good.  Getting caught just means more people know what you
did.  Their whole psychology is upside down."

"Yes," Neeka agreed, "someone who preys on defenseless old women
is going to have some very messed-up values.  We're not going to
be able to persuade these people to trade their life of crime for
being productive members of society unless we can first convince
them that they are miserable failures as criminals."

I said, "And one way to do that is to show them that they can be
made into victims, too.  Another would be to show them that they
are up against something so much tougher and stronger than they
are that going straight is the easy way out.

"All of this is fine in theory, but hard to do in practice.  As
Deputies Murphy and Rosario pointed out to us tonight, crooks can
be as hard to find as cops, when you want one.  We got lucky
tonight.  Finding predators is possible when you know whom they
prey on and where their prey is going to be found.  For crooks
that choose their victims randomly, or have a large territory
that they work in, it's going to be much harder to track them
down.  We can't open a bank and wait for it to be robbed.  We
can't buy a house and wait for it to be burgled.  We can't...." 
An idea came to me and I stopped to think it over.

"Uh, oh," Bambi said.  "I hear the wheels turning."

"Well, the gears are grinding, anyway," Neeka said.

"I was about to say what we can't do, but it occurs to me that we
haven't tapped all our resources."

Neeka sat down at the desk and started going through the manuals
that had been sent over from the Sheriff's Department.  While she
logged into the databases we needed, I explained to Bambi.

"I was about to say that we can't pin down specific crimes to
specific locations, but maybe we can.  The local law enforcement
agencies will certainly have records of the crimes reported in
their jurisdictions.  If we can narrow down the area, we might be
able to pull our fishing stunt on someone other than purse
snatchers."

Neeka was already well into the maze of menus and options.  Bambi
and I watched over her shoulder.  She seemed to be very much at
home on a keyboard.

After a few minutes, she said, "There is a general database of
all crimes committed locally.  It has a crappy Access-based front
end, but I can get the information we want.  It seems to be
pretty current.  The problem is that it isn't connected to the
GIS."

"GIS?" Bambi asked.  I was glad she saved me from asking.

"Geographic Information System," Neeka said.  "Basically, a map
of the city that will show statistics that you give it.  But it
doesn't look like they linked the two systems together in any
useful way.  I think the underlying database is SQL, so maybe I
can export the query results and then import it into the GIS."

"Oh," Bambi said.  Then she mouthed at me, "sequel?"

I shrugged.  "Neeka, are you a nerd?" I asked, half jokingly.

"I think the term you want is Geek," she said.  "As in Computer
Geek.  And I am planning on majoring in Computer Science when I
go to college.

"OK, here we go.  I've imported my query result into the GIS. 
The key field is the case number.  The mapped value is where the
crime was committed.  The different types of crimes will show as
different colored dots and each type is on a different layer so
we can turn them off or on, individually or in any combination. 
What do you want to see first?"

"Well, let's see it all to start," I said.

Neeka clicked the mouse and the screen came up with a map so
covered with colored dots that it was hard to see the streets.

"That's a lot of crime!" Bambi said.  "I'm going to stop
complaining about paying my taxes."

"Darn!" I said.  "That is a lot.  How far back does this go?"

"Um, let's see," Neeka said, scrolling through a second window on
the screen.  "Oh, I see.  This is ten years of cumulative data. 
I guess we need to filter it down.  Filter...filter...here it is.
 Now, what can we leave out?"

"Closed cases, for one," I said.  "If the crime has been solved,
then presumably the criminal is off the street.  No sense looking
for them if they're already locked up."

"And misdemeanors," Bambi suggested.  "No speeding, littering,
public drunkenness, or spitting on the sidewalk."

"And I'll limit it to just the last two years," Neeka said.  "We
want to be sure we aren't looking for someone who moved on to
other things years ago.  Now, 'apply' and 'redraw' and here we
are."

The new map was much less cluttered than the first one.  The dots
started to show as groups.  Different colors were showing
different patterns.  The riot of color still made it hard to
distinguish a pattern.

"What do the colors mean?" I asked.

"Red is murders.  Blue is residential burglaries.  Green is
robberies.  Yellow is auto theft.  Magenta is sexual assault. 
Cyan is arson.  Orange is assault with a deadly weapon.  Purple
is commercial burglaries.  I guess burglars specialize in one
type or another."

"Lets look at them one at a time, then."

Neeka unchecked all the boxes on the bottom of the screen except
for the red one and clicked on redraw.  Now that she had done the
hard part, I could see how easy the GIS system was to use.  When
the map came up again, there was a scattering of red dots all
over the place, with small clumps in a few places.  I studied the
map carefully, but I could not see anything useful.

"I'm not getting anything," I said.  "Are either of you?"

Bambi and Neeka both shook their heads.  Neeka went on to the
next category   residential burglaries.  This map was more
understandable.  The dots appeared in residential neighborhoods
and tended to cluster in relatively small areas.  Bambi traced
her finger down the screen, following a street.

"There have been eight burglaries in this neighborhood in the
last two years?" she said in an astonished tone.  "I'm going to
have the alarm service come out and check the system."

"Makes you want to let Brute back in the house, doesn't it?" I
asked.

"Almost," Bambi said.

"Let's not forget the dot that's not on this map," Neeka said. 
"I feel perfectly safe here, even without the dog in the house."

"You're right, honey," Bambi said.  She put her arm around my
shoulders.  "If we do have a burglar to break in here, that will
be one less criminal we'll have to worry about!"

"Damn right," I agreed.  "But I'd rather not wait for them to
come to us.  This gives us too big an area.  Robberies and auto
theft are going to be very spread out, too.  Let's look at
magenta."

The map of sexual assault was much more interesting.  The
locations tended to cluster around smaller areas.  Certain
neighborhoods had some; certain parts of the city; some were very
tightly grouped.

"Now that's interesting," I said.  "Let's look at some of these
small clumps.  What's this one?"  I pointed to the smallest group
of dots I could see and Neeka clicked on it to zoom in.

"Ponce de Leon Park," Neeka said.  "Six dots, all together.  I
had no idea!"

"I remember something on the news about a jogger being abducted
in the park," Bambi said.  "I never heard how that came out.  I
didn't know there had been six in the last couple of years!"

Neeka went back to the first screen and typed a new query.  When
the result came back, she said, "These have all happened in the
last five months.  There have been three in the last month and a
half."

"Whoever it is, is getting bolder," I said.  "They're up to one
every other week.  When did each abduction take place?"

"Let's see," Neeka said, pulling up the reports on each assault
and flipping through them.  "They run from Friday evening to
Sunday afternoon.  Looks like someone has a weekend hobby.  The
victims were all girls, 17 to 21.  They were alone at the time,
either jogging in the park or just cutting through to go
shopping.  Heck, I've done that.  Lot's of people do.  It's
easier than taking the shuttle from the parking garage on 10th
street.  Each victim was sexually assaulted and tortured. 
Tortured!  My God!  They were knocked out somehow and
blindfolded, then taken somewhere and tortured for several hours
before being dumped on the street late at night.  The only
description is of a man wearing a leather hood.  None had any
idea where they were held.  Eeeeww!  Two-thirds of them were
sexually mutilated."

"Mutilated?"  Bambi said, her voice dripping with revulsion. 
"How?"

"Doesn't say," Neeka reported.  "These are just summaries.  If we
want the details, we will have to ask to see the active case
files."

"I'd rather not get involved in the investigation directly," I
said.  "That would mean answering a lot of questions officially.
But this definitely sounds like something I want to look into. 
This guy needs to be stopped."

"Isn't this kidnapping?" Bambi asked.  "Wouldn't the FBI be
involved?"

"I guess it would technically be kidnapping," Neeka said.  "But
the FBI has other priorities nowadays."

"It may be because of the victims," Bambi said.  "That may also
be why we haven't heard more about this on the news.  I think the
law enforcement agencies are more aware of the harm that it does
to a victim to have what was done to them turned into a public
spectacle.  These poor girls need to try to put their lives back
together.  Having a camera stuck in your face every time you
leave the house is just going to traumatize them some more."

"Yeah," Neeka said.  "I can't imagine how terrible it would be to
be tied up and tortured."  She shut up abruptly and looked away
as soon as she realized what she had said.

There was a long silence, during which everyone tried to avoid
saying anything or looking anyone in the eye.  I thought of
several comments I wanted to make, but I thought better of each
one of them.  Some of them were pretty funny, too.  Finally I
couldn't stand it any more.  My lips started to twitch as I
suppressed a smile and I knew I had to say something.

"OK, no one is going to say it, so I will," I said, laughing. 
"There is no one more qualified to deal with this than me.  If
girls are being tied up and tortured in this town, then I want to
get in on it."

That seemed to break the tension.  Neeka snorted and giggled into
the keyboard.   Bambi turned pink and said, "All right.  This is
where I tell you that I know about the little games that you and
Jim have been playing.  I guess Neeka knows, too; unless you two
have found a way to keep secrets from each other."

"Yes," I said, "Well, I didn't want to embarrass you by bringing
up a painful subject, so I've been trying to be sneaky about the
whole thing.  I guess I should have been more honest with you,
but you warned me about getting into this sort of thing and I
didn't want to disappoint you."

"I know," Bambi said, "and I appreciate it.  And I still think
you need to be careful.  But every day I realize more and more
that you are special.  Your abilities take you so far off the
normal path that I can't tell you, 'don't go here' or 'don't do
that'.  I'm going to have to start trusting your judgment about
these things.

"This 'mutilation' business bothers me a lot, but for someone
with your ability to recover from serious injuries, it may be an
acceptable risk.  How's your hand doing?"

"I'd almost forgotten about my hand.  It's not even swollen
anymore, just a little tender," I said.  "I was pretty woozy
right afterward.  But that was from low blood-sugar from doing
the repair.  I was fine after supper.  The point is, I was able
to function immediately after it happened because I had learned
to handle the pain.  I'm not invulnerable.  My bones break.  I
get bruised.  I bleed.  To keep any of this from putting me out
of action at a critical moment, I have to be able to handle a lot
of pain.  Making it enjoyable helps, because I unlearn the reflex
that makes me avoid painful situations.  If I had flinched from
intercepting that bullet, Deputy Murphy would be dead right now,
instead of out on patrol with his partner."

I looked at the clock on the computer screen.

"Actually, Murphy has been off shift for twenty minutes now, and
it's probably time we were all getting some rest.  It's certainly
been a long and busy day and I want to get in a workout session
in the morning."

Bambi asked, "Should I wake you in the morning?  What time would
you like to get up?"

"Don't let me sleep past nine-thirty."

"That late?  Are you that tired?"

"Well, I may not be sleeping all that time.  I'm going to be
sleeping in Bud's room tonight.  It's something we've both been
looking forward to all week."

"Ah!  Well, in that case, I'm sure he's probably wondering where
you are, right now."

"Yes, he may have an outstanding problem that he needs me to help
him with.  And I could certainly use some relief myself.  But I
think we're probably going to be sleeping most of the time.  One
good fuck and I'm going to be down for the night.

"That raises a question, though.  Neeka, can you hear me
dreaming?"

"I never thought of it.  I'll have to see.  Would you like me to
try to wake you up in the morning if I can?"

"Please.  Were you going to stay with Jim tonight?  I'm sure he
would like you to."

"No, when you and I are that close, you're sending so strongly
that I get confused between what's happening to who.  When you
climax; I climax.  It's impossible to have sex with someone else
at the same time.  Maybe if we were all doing it together, it
would be different."

"Now that's an interesting idea.  I wonder if Jim and Bud would
go for that?  Scratch that.  I know both of them would love it if
we were all in a foursome."

"Oooo.  Yes.  That would be something.  Maybe tomorrow night? 
We'd have to try to work everyone in, though.  Do you think
Janice, Jolene, and Connie are up for an orgy?"

"Could be.  We'll have to play that by ear.  Especially with
Jolene here.  I don't want to rush anyone into anything."  

I looked at Bambi.  She was being very quiet during this
conversation.

"Mom?  What are you thinking?  Are you thinking how you'd like to
see both of us being fucked by Jim and Bud at the same time?  Are
you thinking about how you'd like to be in the same bed with us?
Is this whole conversation getting you extremely turned on?"

Bambi almost swooned.  Her face was flushed, but not from
embarrassment.  She had her hands clenched in her lap in an
obvious effort to keep from touching herself.  I could see her
hard nipples poking up under her thin blouse.

"Did it turn you on watching Bud fuck me this morning?  Did you
enjoy watching him ream me out with that big cock?  Did it make
you hot?  Did it make you wet?  Did you cum watching us?  Are you
turned on now just thinking about it?"

Neeka sent me a mental message, "I don't know about her, but
you've got me turned on hearing you relive the experience.  I
thought you were tired and wanted to go to bed?"

"I'm not THAT tired," I sent back.  "And if she's this aroused
this quick, then she must have been reliving it herself all day.
I want to help her get a good night's sleep."

"May I help?" Neeka sent.

"All you want," I sent.  "I'm sure she'd love it.  She's been
having a ball thinking of herself as a teenager again.  You see
she's cut back on the makeup?"

"I noticed.  She does look more our age.  It's amazing.  I hope I
look this good in fifteen or sixteen years.  Top or bottom?"

"Bottom.  Help me get her over to the mat."

I leaned over and kissed Bambi deeply.  She moaned in response
and let me suck her tongue into my mouth.  I undid the few
buttons on her blouse and pulled her to her feet while stroking
her breasts with my fingertips.  I knew she couldn't resist being
teased like that.  Neeka and I walked her over to the mat and
laid her down on it on her back.

Neeka took over stroking her breasts while I undid her short
skirt and pulled it off her hips.  I pushed her legs apart and
lay down between them, stroking her pussy with my fingers.  She
moaned again and pushed her pussy against my hand.  I petted her
like I was stroking a cat.

Neeka began to lick Bambi's nipples with short flicks of her
tongue.  Bambi shivered and spread her legs wider, begging me to
explore her sex.  

I pulled her pussy lips apart with my thumbs so I could see the
folds of her labia, glistening with drops of her juice.  I pushed
on either side of her clit to make it stand up for me, then I
kissed it as softly as I could.  At the same time, Neeka sucked
one of Bambi's nipples into her mouth.

I licked all around Bambi's clit, making her crazy with desire
for me to touch it.  I licked and sucked her labia, savoring the
flavor of her juice.  She started making little high-pitched
noises that told me we were really getting to her.

I kept avoiding her clit until I could see that it was hard and
shiny and about to pop, then I left her pussy completely alone. 
I joined Neeka and we started working on a breast each.  We both
latched onto her nipples like leeches and started sucking.

Bambi was thoroughly enjoying the attention to her breasts, but
she was getting desperate to have some stimulation to her pussy.
She tried to reach it with her hands, but Neeka and I each
grabbed a hand and pinned them to the mat while we continued to
work her over.

"Please!  Oh, please touch my pussy!" she begged.  "Please,
please, please!"  She started crossing her legs and squeezing her
thighs together to get some kind of stimulation between her legs.
 She threw her knees back and forth on the mat and then spread
them wide and pumped her hips in the air, as though fucking an
imaginary lover.

"You're making me crazy!  I've got to cum!  Please let me cum! 
Please!"

She was starting to sound desperate.  I felt sorry for her
predicament.  She was so turned on that her butt was sliding
around in a pool of her juices.  The nipple in my mouth was hot
and puffy.  Her abdomen was heaving and her legs were jerking. 
She was right on the verge.  It wouldn't take much to push her
over the edge.  

I decided that we had tortured her enough.  I moved back between
her thighs and resumed licking her burning hot pussy.  I slowly
licked her slit all the way up from her hole to just short of her
clit and then I paused with the tip of my tongue just barely
touching the base of her sensitive nub.  I let the heat of it
soak into her and then I lowered my lips around her clit and
started sucking it gently.

That was all it took to get her off.  She wrapped her legs around
my head and her arms around Neeka and started shaking like she
was in her own private earthquake.

When I thought she was winding down, I pried her legs off my head
and slipped free.  Neeka thoughtfully substituted her thigh and
Bambi wrapped herself around it.  While I watched, Neeka and
Bambi started kissing and Bambi undid Neeka's jacket and began
caressing her breasts.  Neeka looked like she was really getting
into it, so I peeled off my suit and left it over a chair before
I headed for the stairs.

When I opened the door, I shot a quick question at Neeka.

"Go ahead," she thought back.  "We're fine.  We're better than
fine.  She's a VERY good kisser.  I've wanted to do this since I
found out that she and Mom were having an affair.  Don't worry. 
I won't let her keep me up too late.  See you in the morning."

I hurried up the stairs to my room.  I needed to shower off
before crawling into bed with Bud, but after watching my mother
and my best friend making love I was so turned on myself that it
was all I could do to keep my hands off my own clit.



The shower was shorter than it really should have been.  I was
building up quickly to the 'must cum soon' stage and I had
already started breathing heavily.  I was still damp when I
knocked softly on Bud's door.

"Who is it?" He called.

"You know damn well who it is, you scamp!  It's your very horny
sister.  Can I come in?"

"Come in," he said.  I was through the door before he got the
second word out of his mouth.

Bud was lying on his back on the bed, stroking his cock.  Once
again, he had polished up a real beauty of an erection.  The skin
was taut all over it and the head looked like a small red apple.
The veins looked like tree roots.

"Damn, stud!  That cock looks bigger every time I see it!"

"Could be," he said.  "I've been thinking about this all day.  I
was even thinking about when I had you bent over the kitchen
table this morning."

I climbed onto the bed next to him.  I took over stroking his
cock for him.  I tried to do it just the way he had been.  The
feel of it in my hand made be tingle all over with excitement.

"Were you?  Me too.  I was wishing we had more time.  Things were
kind of rushed."

"Rushed?  I suppose.  Things were kind of seriously strange with
Mom watching."

"Did that turn you on?"

"Unhunh.  It turned her on, too.  It really turned her on.  Did
you see her going at it?  She really went to town on that pussy.
Damn, that seems strange to say, you know?"

"Did you think she didn't have one?" I laughed.

"Well...no!  But still...."

"You hadn't seen it before?"

"Well, sometimes she would wear something too short, you know. 
Then we could see it.  But that's the first time I've seen her
jerk off.  She was really into it.  It was incredibly sexy. 
She's fantastic.  You weren't so bad yourself.  I had to resort
to the old multiplication tables to keep from coming too soon."

"Oh, Bud!  Don't you ever worry about that.  If you need to cum,
you go right ahead.  No one is keeping score.  Besides, I always
cum when I feel you squirting in me."

"Really?"

"Yeah.  It's just about the best feeling there is."  I kissed the
tip of his cock.  When my lips touched it, I felt it twitch. 
"When you pump me full of cum, my insides just go crazy.  Can you
feel it when I cum?"

"I sure can.  It feels like there's a mouth in there sucking on
my cock.  It feels like your whole body is trying to suck the
jizz out of my balls."

I kissed his cock again, putting my lips right on the little lips
of his hole.  Then I started licking the head all over and giving
it little baby kisses.  He leaned back against the pillow and
watched me.

"Damn, but that's awesome!  You always know what feels great."

I took my mouth off his cock and rubbed it with my cheek.  I
said, "I meant what I said about being addicted to your cock. 
I've just got to have it in me every so often or I start having
cravings.  Cock cravings.  I need your cum in me, too, you know.
It's like a drug to me.  It mellows me out.  Right now I need it
bad.  It's been a pretty hectic day and I'm really tweaked out. 
I need a good fucking."

"I think I can manage that.  Let go of that and climb aboard the
erection express."

I straddled him and rubbed my pussy on the head of his cock to
get it wet and slick.  I got up as high on my knees as I could go
and lowered myself onto his steel-hard cock.  When the head was
in place, he put his hands on my waist and pulled me down onto
him harder and harder until the head popped inside me.

I let out a squeak when I felt the huge head stretch out my
opening and slip inside.  Bud waited a minute to let me get used
to him before he started pulling down again.  Inch by inch he
forced me down onto that big cock.  When he was halfway in, I had
to stop and work my hips around to try to stretch out more so he
could continue.  

I had been worried about being stretched out too much from all
the sex with Bud and Brute, but it felt like either his cock was
getting bigger or my pussy was closing up again.  It was strange.
 I almost felt like a virgin again, being reamed out for the
first time.  I wondered if, in the process of returning my hand
to the way I was before the bullet shattered it, my body had
tried to restore my pussy as well.  If I had let it go on, would
it have made me a virgin again?  The question was fascinating,
but I could not concentrate very well with a big cock driving up
into me.  I kept losing my train of thought and just focusing on
the feeling that was rushing from my pussy up into my breasts and
my head.

With only a couple of inches to go, Bud said, "Here, I'm being
selfish.  You must be tired.  Let me do all the work."  He pulled
me down to his chest and held me tightly while he rolled me over
onto my back.  He lay me down on the bed and stuffed a pillow
under my ass and the small of my back for support and to elevate
my pussy to the best angle for penetration.  

I melted into a pool of luxurious erotic sensation as he held my
hips and pushed his cock deeper into me.  I just lay there and
played with my breasts, rolling and pulling on my areolas and my
nipples while he watched.  After a minute, I noticed that he
wasn't looking at my breasts, but just at my face.  

I must have blushed, because he said, "I've realized that the
sexiest part of the female anatomy is the face.  When you get
turned on, your face shows it.  When I see you make that little
'o' with your lips, I know you are really enjoying it."

"And when I cum?"

"Then your eyes roll back in your head and your eyelids flutter
and your neck arches back.  God!  That is the most powerfully
erotic thing to watch!  That expression alone is worth an 'E'
ticket."

"So I'm a good ride?"

"Sis, you are the best.  You are the Cyclone, the Hulk, the
Kraken, the Twister, and the Tornado all rolled into one.  Now
hold on, I'm almost there."

He pushed into me the last inch and I felt his balls settle
against my ass.  They tickled my butt.  I tried to spread my legs
wider and I felt another half-inch slip into me.

"Ooooooooo!" I moaned.  "That's just what I needed!  That feels
so damn good!  You're in so deep it feels like you are about to
come up my throat.  I love being filled up like this.  My pussy
is just stretched out like spandex all over your cock.  It feels
like we are joined between the legs, that you are a part of me
and I'm a part of you."

"Do you want me to wait a bit?" He asked.

"Can you stay hard just with it in me?  I mean not moving or
anything?"

"I'm as hard as a rock.  I can stay like this as long as you
like.  It feels great to me too, just feeling you around my
dick."

"Then just lie down here with me and hold me.  If you need to do
anything to stay hard, or if you need to cum, you go right ahead.
 I just want to relax with this big thing in me."

I pulled a leg down and Bud rolled onto his side.  That didn't
work well because I couldn't keep my legs apart enough to keep
him in me and it felt like I was hanging from his cock.  It was
an interesting feeling, but not comfortable enough.  I rolled
over on top of him and spread my knees apart.  That put me at jus
the right angle and I was able to lie down on him with his cock
still completely inside me.  My breasts were mashed out to either
side of us, but that wasn't a problem for me.

"You OK?" I asked.  "I'm not too heavy, am I?"

"You're light as a feather," he said.  He pulled the covers up
over both of us and I lay my head down on his chest and closed my
eyes.





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