A Very Rare Species  by   UK Snowy

"Ok Julian, thanks for everything. Iım leaving now," said Sally Thompson
into her mobile phone, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Yeah should be home
by lunchtime, byeee."
She put the mobile into the dash cradle of her Ford saloon, gunned the
engine and drew away from the hotel which had been her home for four nights.
Sally wasnıt unhappy to be leaving the terrible food the hotel had tried to
serve her, forcing her to eat out three of the five nights. Typical
standards by that stupid cow in Human Resources who did all the hotel
bookings for all 150 staff, she muttered under her breath. To remind her of
the place, her fried breakfast repeated through her gut and back up into her
mouth and she shuddered and wondered why she had eaten it. Sallyıs motor hit
the motorway and headed for her destination 280 miles away south. Satisfied
with her week in the north, with the regional administrators and the local
on-site wardens, she hummed happily to a Robbie Williams CD. It wasnıt often
she was called away from her office, but the reorganisation of the national
parks and particularly the accommodation and subsistence levels of the
hands-on employees like wardens, keepers and specialist trades, was her baby
and it was going extremely well.
Her mobile warbled and she flicked a switch and spoke into her clip-on
microphone, held firm on the lapel of her moss green silk blouse. She
listened to the caller with a puzzled expression as she slowed her speed and
kept to the inside lane, saying the odd Œyeahı and ŒI seeı, but not
interrupting.
"Well yes I am very interested in the development of the species and I know
how beautiful they can be, but just to drop things and come like that is not
really on," she stated. "Anyway, how come I didnıt meet you?"
She listened some more and to concentrate and also to top up her fuel she
pulled into a service station and parked before the fuel area. The
conversation wore on and she glanced at her watch. It was tempting, the
weather was fine and she hadnıt actually left the region and what the caller
was talking about could be reached via the next off junction. She had the
whole day and tomorrow was Saturday. She tried to grab her electronic
organiser, telling the caller to hold a while, as she checked her diary, but
her phone cable snagged on the belt buckle of her black skirt. She loosened
the cable and thought about her clothing ­ not really suitable for foraging
on the moors. Her rough gear was in a holdall in the back of the car. Yes
she had flat shoes on, but they were expensive and certainly not waterproof.
Her tights would keep her legs warm, yet she was glad to be in a skirt
instead of trousers like all week, when out on sites. She had good legs and
liked to show them. This reminded her of a squash game she had arranged with
her cousin Joanne for the following morning and she grinned confident of a
win. She reverted to the call, reading her bookings.
"Look, I am free yes and it would be easy to get to you, you say less than
an hour.. yes I am nearly on junction 34Š yesŠ. YesŠ Hmm! Iıd have to change
into my rough clothes andŠ. Oh Itıs blacktop all the way and gravel to the
siteŠ. Hmm!" she pondered as the caller went on.
"Strange how we didnıt meet in the last few days," said Sally. "Let me make
a call and Iıll call you back, whatıs your number?"
The call was terminated and she dialled Julian. He wasnıt in and on voice
mail. She dialled his assistant, a friendly fat young Scottish girl called
Fiona, who had fussed round Sally all week to make an impression. She said
Julian couldnıt be interrupted and Sally remembered his meeting. Fiona was
new and didnıt really know Sallyıs caller, but she would check. Sally hung
on.
"Yes Sally. Ray Harris. Heıs been the woodman at Harrarth Valley for fifteen
years now. Never met him myself, but I wouldnıt would I?" Fiona giggled.
"Canıt think how I missed him,ı murmured Sally.
"No. Not much in his file, thirty eight years old, singleŠ ah! divorced, two
kids with their mum Elspeth who is in Gateshead. Thereıs a photo here. Huge
man," warbled Fiona appreciatively.
Sally tutted and thanked Fiona, closing the call and mused before driving to
the fuel area and filling up with diesel. It wouldnıt take long, it was on
the way ­ relatively. He ­ Ray Harris, was very keen for her to experience
his findings and he was a regular employee. Big man as well, she chuckled
inwardly recalling Fionaıs words. Her last boyfriend Hugh, had been so tiny,
almost as small as she, yet athletic, wiry, fit and strong and into some
weird form of alternative exercise called hashing, which involved loads of
running to pubs. But ­ he was one hell of a lover, except for his deplorable
persistence on asking Sally to take it up the arse. What Hugh didnıt know
about foreplay, oral sex, long ecstatic fucks and giving her the best
orgasms in her twenty five year old life, wasnıt worth writing about, but
there was no way she would let him or any other boyfriend invade the private
orifice meant only for excretions and not insertions. She jolted her
thoughts as she strode to the pay desk. Come on Sally, youıre not going to
see these birds for a love affair with a crude oaf of a woodsman.
She called Ray back, sensing his elation and got the directions and set off
in high anticipation as the sun finally blasted through the early morning
mist and bathed the surrounding magnificence in bright spring fresh colours.
She turned the volume up on her CD and made for junction 34. Exactly as
described, after seven miles up a major road, two minor roads about half a
mile each, a short lane, then two extremely difficult tracks barely covered
in blacktop, with grass sprouting down the middle she noticed with a
grimace, as her car bottomed twice, she saw the 4x4 vehicle parked in the
gateway to a plantation of young pines. As she pulled in alongside, she saw
a man come from round the back of the vehicle and smile as she stopped and
switched off. The 4x4 had the organisationıs logo on itıs door and on the
canvas cover. He had the official dark blue fleece, with the green edging,
green collar and the logo and the obligatory Swift binoculars hanging on his
chest, so she opened her door.
"Hello Iım Ray," he said warmly. "SallyŠ  Sally Thompson?"
He liked the look of the frail looking girl, better than her photograph
definitely. Her dark brown curly hair was short, no ear rings, little makeup
and those glasses made her look even more academic than her CV stated. As
she grabbed a navy blue, quilted body warmer, he glanced at her athletic but
shapely hose clad legs.
"Who else?" she twittered as they shook hands before she pulled on the
garment. Her delicate hand felt childish in his spade like grasp of rough
hardness "Youıre not expecting any more Sallys up here are you?"
He grinned through his bushy, unkempt greying beard and she noticed his
twinkling clear grey eyes. For a moment, she thought he might be staring at
her flat chest but reprimanded herself and tidied her jacket. Rayıs bulbous
reddish nose spoiled the general picture and she stopped herself considering
his appearance, especially when she caught a whiff of his body. It stank
foul as he held the top of the door for her to slide out of her car. She
reached back in for her mobile.
"You wonıt need that up here Sally. If you leave it on it will scare the
birds. It can take a message here for you," he said softly noticing how tiny
she was in height and stature.
She nodded and screwed up her pert nose in friendly agreement, then as he
turned away, she screwed her nose up again, this time in distaste as another
whiff of his foul body odour wafted round her. He gestured she should follow
him and made his way into the plantation. The trees were no more than six
feet high and amongst them Ray looked six feet twelve. He was enormous, yet
his tread was light and his voice too.
"I couldnıt let you leave without seeing this spectacle Sally. I heard you
were into birding. The timing is perfect. Itıs not far," he told her.
"I hope not. You did say gravel and this just about qualifies. They wonıt be
in the plantation though surely?" she queried, knowing about this particular
species of bird and gazing about through the regimental rows of the spruce.
"Itıs my shoes you see. I should have put my boots on."
Harris ignored her and shrugged.
Her mobile ­ out of earshot, warbled in the car to no answer except
voicemail. Fiona left a message.
ŒSally. About Ray. You wouldnıt meet him. He is not in your jurisdiction
now. Heıs been transferred to the Eastern information sector under the new
border. Only a couple of weeks ago. Heıs not your concern. He was a pain in
the arse to deal with apparently and heıs well rid of according to Simon
Bignall. Big chip on his shoulder and he doesnıt like the move. Heıs a hands
on man and theyıve put him in a backwater office. Donıt bother with him and
have a nice journey.ı
"How did you know I was into birds?" Sally puffed as the track steepened.
"Saw your photo and profile in the group magazine some time ago. It read as
if you would want to see what Iıve got up here, so I asked you. Simple," he
answered matter of factly, with a open wave of his hand. "Your mobile number
was in there if you remember."
Sally nodded to his back, trying to keep upwind of him. That wasnıt
difficult ­ it was coming from behind her and as his stride was huge, he was
always three or four feet ahead, unconcerned at her odd squeal of difficulty
over a particular stretch of track. She picked her footsteps carefully. Soon
they opened onto a massive heath area with the odd scrubby tree, thick
heather, gorse and close cropped grass loved by the native sheep. Sally
reckoned this would be more like the habitat for this species and silently
hoped it wouldnıt be far.
"We didnıt meet in the last week, but you knew I was here," she stated.
"Of course I knew. Everyone in the region knew. Youıre a big wig from down
south remember," he chuckled.
"Yes ha ha!" she laughed sarcastically. "I have a job to do and thatıs all
really. No big wig power crazed individual here."
He strode on silently, leading to a shallow hollow, Sally not surprised or
hurt she didnıt get a reaction. He was his own man and a strong, silent,
intriguing sort of hulk ­ but oh! that pong from his body.
She was amazed to see the ground hollow carpeted with a folded tarpaulin
sheet, but when she saw the backpack, the bottle of water and the tripod on
itıs side she guessed that he would have been up here already. He indicated
she should be quiet, with his fingers on his lips and she nodded as they
dipped their heads and slid onto the sheet after he unfolded it. She assumed
that was to keep the dew from the inside. Harris knelt and bade her do the
same. She hadnıt bargained for this and feared for her expensive tights, but
the rewards would be much greater than the cost of replacing them.
Ray lay down on his belly, so she did the same and he handed her a pair of
binoculars from the backpack. She focussed them expertly and scanned them in
the same direction as him. The air was still, but noisy with morning feeding
frenzies of many moorland species of birds. She loved the sound as an
accompaniment to the silent sweeps of the horizon and nearer with the
powerful lens. They spotted curlew, snipe, oystercatcher, hobby, kestrel and
three pair of buzzards, soaring high on the thermals above a forest to the
west, their calls like the mews of a big cat.
Half an hour passed with not a word. The only communication being pointing,
gasps of recognition and agreeing nods. The sun blossomed from light cloud
cover and warmed Sally, which pleased her as her hands and legs were getting
cool. She thought he might have coffee in the bag but dare not ask in fear
of disturbing the wildlife. An hour passed and she nudged Ray.
Her frowned expression of puzzlement was clear, together with her gestures
and he smiled and shuffled closer. Eager to hear what would be whispered
words of wisdom, she turned onto her side and waited for his stench to hit
her and tried not to gag on the foul odour.
"Enjoying it Sally?" he murmured, making her now notice the rampant
halitosis on his breath.
"Yes, butŠ" she grimaced, questioning by expression. "I know we have to be
patient, but itıs long past dawn - which is their best time, but they have a
territory here I suppose. Thatıs why youŠand I are here, so where are they?"
she asked pleasantly but firmly.
"Dunno," he whispered dismissively, shuffling closer.
She tried to blank out the noxious smells from his surrounding body warmth
as she felt his knee budge against her calf then fall away. She glanced at
his face and saw the hardening smile. Suddenly worried, Sally shoved her
glasses up her nose and tried to sit up. His arm fell across her waist, he
pushed her back and pulled her close.
"Ray please. So why have you got me up here?" she challenged, half knowing ­
dreading the answer.
His grip on her thigh was vice like as he spoke.
"Youıve got a good job. One youıre good at. How would you like to be
transferred to driving the lorries, or cleaning the toilets?" he asked
softly, his hand massaging her thigh.
"Youıve got an excellent job too Ray. Woodman for the reserve, one of the
biggest regional setups we have. Now letıs not get silly and spot these damn
birds," she said firmly, trying to lift his hand off her leg.
"Theyıre not here. Itıs the wrong place Sally and you have put me in the
wrong place. Miss clever clogs Sally Thompson. I donıt do office work," he
jeered. " But this is the right place in a way, for a very rare species like
you."
"Ray. Now please, letıs not get ŠŠ"
His hand suddenly shot under her skirt and onto her crotch. She squealed and
squirmed but by now he had kneeled up swiftly and pushed her backwards while
his other hand pinned her shoulders to the ground. With a wrench he found
and tore down the top of her hose, the synthetic material as if paper in his
massive fingers. The strong waistband dug harshly into her with the effort
it took for him do so, but that pain meant nothing to Sally. She felt
powerless. 
 Momentarily Ray gazed on her thighs and groin, licking his lips and Sally
started to wail, her arms flailing at his bulk. He grinned at her feeble
efforts and dug his fingers into her panties and ripped the delicate lacy
white garment off. He stuffed them in her mouth and grinned down at her
frightened eyes from behind her skewed spectacles.
"Iıll show you what it means to have your life turned upside down, you city
bitch," he snarled.
Sally shook her head and tried to express with her eyes that she didnıt know
what he was talking about. Rayıs eyes were not registering her mumbled,
tearful message. They were locked onto her groin which lay bare, surrounded
by the torn tights, which indicated an old, cheap whore, rather than the
young sophisticate she was. He pushed her legs apart, but they couldnıt
spread far, held by the stretch hose across her thighs. She kicked out at
his touch and with the back of his hand he lashed her face, knocking her
head violently sideways like a rag doll. Her designer spectacles found a new
home yards away in the heather. Blood trickled from the side of Sallyıs
mouth and the bruise coloured almost immediately. Another blow hit the side
of her head on the return swing, making her feel as if her skull had caved
in and dulling her senses.
Harris dragged Sallyıs tights off, admiring in passing, the firm toning of
her shapely legs. Her sensible but street fashion shoes were tossed to one
side. He stuck his right knee between her legs, joined it with the other and
gazed down triumphantly at her exposed crotch. Sally tried to lift her legs
and close her knees on his body but in retaliation he thrust her knees wide
apart, causing her immense pain in her groin with the weight of his shove.
The carefully shaved pussy pouch with just the landing strip of dark brown
pubic hair terminating at the top of her full lipped snatch amused him.
"What the fuck is that?" he spluttered with mirth as she shoved her skirt up
under her buttocks. "Jesus! What you birds do with your bodies. Thatıs a
juicy looking cunt there Miss Thompson, but that hair is ridiculous"
Sally shook her head, pleading with her eyes, mumbling through her clean-on
that morning panties, but he ignored her. His hands grabbed her blouse,
fingers seeking the gaps between the dark green feature buttons. The silk
garment was torn open, exposing her brassiere. The white, sexy little lace
and satin bra from Agent Provocateur was one of her favourites and made her
feel good, whether she intended to expose it to some lucky man or not. Her
assailant merely shoved his hands under it and pushed it up her chest, her
tiny tits not offering any resistance whatsoever. Her rib cage was clearly
defined, her breasts almost flat.
"Cute little paps you have. I love tiny tits Sally and just look at your
nipples. Hard as bullets,ı he mused.
As if he was picking out a particular particle of bird seed from a bowl, Ray
plucked at her teats so delicately, heightening their upward jut and
watching how they subsided back to the nearly half inch blebs he had first
seen. Dark brown and permanently erect, they were set in no surrounding
areolae, just perfect domed buttons on her 32A cup breasts. Ray stooped and
his stench hit her again followed by his bad breath until his lips locked
onto her nipples. Initially he sucked gently, spending time on each teat,
his beard rubbing her chest. His sucking grew into biting with his lips,
then his teeth came into play and he ground his chin into her, rubbing her
raw as her nipples were tortured. Before they would bleed he stopped and
raised his body upright.
His hand snuck under his waxed jacket and he unfastened his belt, then
zipped down his heavy twill trousers. Sally felt the body heat filter over
her, coupled with the increased pungency of his groin odours. It was
incredibly awful, but the smell was the least of her problems. She knew what
was coming next and feared the painful onslaught of inevitable rape by an
enormous, uncouth cock.
Instinctively she shielded her breasts with her arms, not daring to put her
hands on her vagina for fear of another cruel blow. Her mouth was badly
swollen and cut inside and she wasnıt sure about her teeth. Ray grinned
evilly down at her feeble protests as he unleashed his prick. He had to move
slightly to be able to lower his trousers to his knees and then with a grunt
he hefted it out and waggled it at her.
Sally, whilst being in shock and dread fear, was almost pleased to see what
he was threatening her with. The huge woodmanıs penis was no longer than
five inches and very puny looking. It did have an over long, almost pointed
knob end, which was exposed with the horror of a thick white cheesy deposit
coating the trench at the head of his shaft. She could smell the hideous
pong and almost gagged on the waft, but the stick like thing he seemed so
proud of held no worries for a girl who had enjoyed fucking all sorts and
sizes of pricks in her love life.
In an effort to defuse the situation, she smiled at him with her eyes and
gestured with her arms for him to come on to her. If she could get through a
quick fuck, although it was a brutal rape after all, she still might get
away. Harrisıs eyes looked startled at her sudden demeanour and she
registered a disturbance in his attitude. Sally pointed to her gag and
questioned him with her eyes, nodding as if to indicate itıs removal would
be beneficial. She dare not remove it herself for fear of another blow to
her bloated face.
He lowered himself, sliding his legs back and aimed his cock at her cunt.
With an abrupt shove, he entered her dry twat and the sharp pain of the
sudden un-lubricated penetration seared through her until after several
shunts, when it was slightly easier. She knew she wasnıt wet, always aware
of her vaginal situation, but the silly little thing prodding her was
insignificant and the lack of moisture was soon of no concern, just let it
be over quickly she prayed. Rayıs face and beard slobbered over hers as he
rutted at her with urgent accompanying grunts and she reviled the stench of
his body and breath and thought how disgustingly dirty his cock was.
Sally mewed encouragement, gaining his attention, wanting it to be over
quickly and he paused the rape to stare down on her. With a shake of his
head he swiped her panty gag away onto the surrounding heather and she
smiled.
"Thanks. Come on big boy, fuck me hard and fast. Ooh! Youıre so good," she
murmured as sincerely as she could.
"Fuck you city bitch," he exploded, his spit spattering her face, as he
rammed viciously into her again.
Her tiny body jolted. It was a repulsive situation but she thought she was
doing OK. He would cum, get off and she would sprint for her car. He had his
trousers round his ankles and the old Confucius saying suddenly had some
relevance as she had no knickers or tights round her ankles to affect her
running gait. Harris had another idea though.
After many shunts into her pussy, he suddenly withdrew and flipped her over
and her worst fears coursed through Sally as she felt him throw her legs
wide. She felt his finger stick into her anus and poke about.
"Please donıt do that," she pleaded, fearing the worst.
"Shut the fuck up," he snarled, ramming his finger in deeply.
She jolted with shock as he started to ream at her bum, his finger shunting
roughly in and out. The very thought of it turned Sally to a fearful wreck
and within seconds his body weight settled on her and then the soggy knob of
his cheesy dick rammed at her arsehole.
"NOOoooooo!" she wailed, startling several birds feeding nearby.
Her cry echoed round the hills unanswered and soon any further thoughts she
had of shouting for help were stifled by him ramming her face into the damp
peaty soil and grass surrounding the ground sheet. As she felt his initial
insertion stretch her bottom, Sallyıs fears seared through her and destroyed
what degree of control she had managed to muster. In humiliation, she felt
her bladder give way in fear and her piss spurted onto the ground sheet
below. The flow carried on, hot and full without Harrisıs knowledge and she
was thankful of his unknowing, hating the way he would no doubt mock and
vilify her sophisticated image, now in ruins. Now she felt the warm seepage
under her thighs and belly and felt disgusted at her wallowing in her own
piddle, but she was trapped.
 His energetic fucking had budged her off the edge of the tarpaulin and he
held her head down, cruelly grinding her already wounded and distorted
features into the earth as he resumed his barbarous anal rape. She felt his
dick invade her inner rectum and a pain like she had never known rasped
through her as he pumped at her flattened buttocks.
With a gurgle Ray came into her arse and seconds later he dropped heavily
onto Sallyıs sobbing, throbbing torso as she felt his cum seeping through
her fundament. She had given up the last protest and realised how right she
was to discourage Hugh in his quest for anal sex. The fleeting image of
Hughıs distinctly larger penis penetrating her anus almost made her gag with
distaste. The experience forced on her was horrid, dirty and very painful,
but this time she had had no choice. The man over her was flattening her
frail body and her breathing wasnıt easy as his heavy bulk panted and
puffed. She felt his cock slide greasily out of her bum and was thankful as
he started to move. He rolled off and lay beside Sally as she quickly closed
her bruised thighs in an attempt to conceal the puddle of urine below. That,
had luckily trickled away from him into a lower hollow in the earth bowl.
She struggled to her knees, avoiding the piss puddle, trying to tidy her
clothing, failing to completely hide her exposed breasts with the ripped
apart blouse, the body warmer without buttons or zip of little use. Managing
to pull her skirt respectfully down over her genitalia, hating the way it
was clinging to her sodden legs and belly, she began looking about for means
of rescue or at least escape.
He merely mumbled and sobbed pitifully, about how she had ruined his life,
he had nothing to aim for and city women were all bitches and lesbians. He
would show her how a man wants his life. Harrisıs rantings seemed to possess
him and thankfully to distract him.
Equally her sobs seemed to echo round the distant hills as she planned her
escape, her sorrowful noises of no consequence to her attacker. Two wretched
humans, wrapped up in their own predicament, isolated from the outside world
and each other. 
He stared at her but made no attempt to stop her from standing. Expecting
the beast to rise and flay her again, Sally slowly and watchfully backed off
but he just lay there and watched as one slow step turned into a  frantic,
damp fronted, stumbling, barefoot fleeing as Sally found the track they had
followed from their cars. After a few steps, she felt a inner gurgling, a
rolling wet fart with each step and the filthy feeling of his cum dribble
down her legs. To Sally who was an extremely clean girl who showered twice
each day at least, this was a total abhorrence, but she ignored her personal
hygiene for the sake of safety. Her bladder motion had already sullied her
thighs and stomach, what else could shame her if she had semen traces down
her legs.
She didnıt look behind and reached her vehicle, then realising she had lost
her spectacles in the struggle. Her size three feet were bruised and
bleeding from the harsh gravel stones. As she puzzled over her safety to
drive without her sight aids, she heard a loud echoing crack and watched the
startled flock of crows lifting from the branches of the spruce trees. A
flock of Lapwing sped round the edge of the trees and wheeled dramatically
away, their black tipped, broad wings flapping powerfully as Sally listened
intently. It was a gun shot surely she reasoned, but who was it? Was it some
gamekeeper out for a shoot who could help her? No - not on this territory.
Was it him, firing blindly in a rage?
Without waiting for the answer which could be even more dangerous she
imagined, Sally jumped in her car, thought about a phone call, but decided
to put miles between him and her and with blurred vision, turned it warily
down the lanes towards the main road. Her clever brain whirred into action.
She stopped after about twenty yards and reversed clumsily back to park near
Harrisıs 4x4. There was still no sign of him.
Swiftly she jumped out and tried the door of his truck. It was open but no
keys were evident. He couldnıt follow her if she immobilised it she
reckoned. She looked in the back of the vehicle and saw the tools including
a pick axe. She grabbed the heavy tool and clumsily swung it at the front
tyre. She missed it, hitting the metal guard instead. The noise seemed
horrendous and she glanced up the track seeing nothing. Then she hit the
rubber cleanly but the implement bounced ineffectively off. She delved in to
the vehicle again, discarding the pick axe. There was a lump hammer and a
pack of six inch nails.
With a mighty swing Sally tried again and the point pierced the tyre which
flattened as she laughed almost hysterically. It took some effort to swing
the tool, but diligently she applied her mind to the other front tyre,
bursting it after two weaker strikes. Laughing hysterically, she jumped in
her car which was ticking over and roared off, then realised she could
hardly see and slowed as she reached blacktop.
After a couple of extremely difficult driving miles, her bleeding bare feet
painful and unsure on the pedals, Sally stopped and tried her mobile, but
there was no signal in that part of the remote area. She swore loudly and
drove slowly on. There was absolutely no traffic in the area until she
reached the road near to the motorway junction. She cried out with joy as
she saw the parked police patrol car. The two officers, keeping an eye on
the heavy traffic on six lanes below the bridge, were aghast at the
dishevelled, barefooted, bleeding, grimy, bloody faced girl approaching
them. She broke down in tears and relief as she spilled out her story.
The older one, a male, ogled her torn blouse and the fact that Sally hadnıt
pulled her bra back down over her little paps. One nipple kept popping out
as her animated hands left go of the buttonless garment. He listened
intently to her sobbed out story which came in full as the female police
officer took down notes about panties and tights being torn off and
discarded, the vaginal and anal rape, how it hurt, how dirty she felt and
how he cruelly pinched her tits.
They called and waited for an ambulance and backup, advised colleagues on
who to call and assist Sally, she gave them staff names from the regional
centre and then they carried on road policing while crime officers hurried
to the site as she described.
An hour or two later, after she was examined in hospital, Fiona and Julian
visited her. She told them everything as she had the female policewoman.
They in turn told her that the body of the wretched, suicidal Harris had
been found, virtually minus the back of his head. One of their staff had
visited the site, a crime scene established and forensics experts were
scouring the scene in the bright afternoon light. His own double barrel
shotgun lay by his side, spent cartridges still in the piece.
Sally slept fitfully that night reliving the horror many times. Her bodily
orifices sore especially her anus. Her face swollen, her teeth intact.
Wounds were treated, but her mind was tormented. The soothing bath had
helped and while she hated to think about it as being helpful, the
ridiculous size of his puny penis contributed to her feeling of relief. Her
panties, tights, shoes and spectacles were brought in the next day for her
identification.
Several sessions of counselling followed over weeks, which gradually
rehabilitated her and then she took three months sabbatical and went to
Australia to stay with her sister. As Sally lazed around in sunny calm days,
the myriad species of birds never entered her head.
FIN


  
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