


                          L.U.R.D.

                             by 

                          Joe Doe  


JUDGE ASHLEY MARSH MEETS AN OLD FRIEND AT A JUDICIAL CONFERENCE.   
(YOU MIGHT WANT TO READ "ONE QUESTION TOO MANY" AND "TEASING TERRI" 
TO GET SOME BACKGROUND ON THIS STORY.)

  

State Supreme Court Justice Ashley Marsh strode into the bar in the 
Palmer House and quickly surveyed her surroundings.  It didn't take 
her long to spot him.  The Sheriff sat alone at the end of the bar, 
looking totally out of place amidst the elegant surroundings in his 
big hat and cracker Sheriff's uniform.  

Ashley strode over to him.  Her manner was confident, self-assured, 
brusque.  "What do you want?" she said.

"Ashley!  Is that any way to greet an old friend?"  the Sheriff 
said.  "I drove all the way up here, and paid that big fat 
conference fee, just to see you acting like a big smarty-pants in 
that ballroom full of lawyers.  Least you can do is buy me a drink."

"The hell I will," she snapped back, being careful not to raise her 
voice in the posh hotel where she was a featured speaker.  "What 
are you doing here, and what do you want?"

"If you park that cute little bee-hind of yours on a bar stool, 
I'll tell you."

Although she hated the idea of sitting next to him, she needed to 
know precisely what, after all these years, the Sheriff wanted 
with her.  Gritting her teeth, she sat down.

The bartender came over, and Ashley, resuming her normal 
professional demeanor, smiled.  "I'll take an iced tea, 
please," she said sweetly. 

"Bullshit," the Sheriff said.  "Bring her a Scotch.  Straight up.  
Make it a double.  She'll need it."

Ashley didn't even try to hide her annoyance.  "I'll take an ICED 
TEA," she repeated.  

The bartender looked back and forth between the Sheriff and Ashley, 
but it was clear that an irresistible force hat met an immovable 
object.  Abandoning all hope of further guidance, he walked away to 
fill the order.  

"What do you want?" Ashley said, when the bartender was out of 
earshot.

"We have a shortage of girls down on the prison farm," the Sheriff 
explained.  "Commodity prices are going back up, and we need girls 
to pick and plant our crops.  And we have a whole bunch more 
soldiers going through the post now, which means we need lots of 
fresh pussy to keep them entertained.  That's where you come in."

"You bastard!  I'm a Supreme Court justice!  If you think I'm 
going to go down there and spread my legs...while you pocket 
the cash...."

"Don't get so uppity about it," the Sheriff said.  "It ain't 
nothing you ain't done before."

"You threw me in prison!  You stripped me of my legal rights, and 
turned me into some jailhouse bimbo.  Then you turned me out..."

"Don't forget the strip club.  Gosh, you were hot.  I loved you in 
that school uniform."

Ashley felt a sudden rage as the memory of the uniform flashed back 
into her mind.  She had always been self-conscious of her petite 
stature and youthful appearance.  Now, as a justice, she wore lifts 
in her high heels and kept her hair in a severe bun.  Makeup to 
hide her freckles and a pair of schoolmarm glasses she didn't need 
completed her look of elegant sophistication.  

The Sheriff, in contrast, had taken full advantage of her youthful 
appearance to put her in the most humiliating situation imaginable. 
Ashley blushed as she imagined herself skipping across the stage in 
her school uniform, sexily licking her lollipop as the slimy MC 
reminded the hooting, ogling patrons, "She's for rent down at the 
truck stop, if you want to turn her over your knee and paddle those 
cute little buns of hers."  How many customers had taken him up on 
the offer?  She had lost count.  But her bottom cheeks tightened at 
the thought of it.
 
The smiling Sheriff's casual invocation of Ashley's humiliation 
enraged her, and she might have slapped him if the bartender hadn't 
returned with her drink order.  Trying not to give offense in what 
was obviously a tense situation, he meekly placed both a double 
shot of whiskey and a glass of iced tea on the bar and retreated.

"You're on summer recess now, Ashley," the Sheriff pointed out.  
"Working at the truck stop would be way more interesting than 
giving speeches."

Ashley's voice dropped so the other patrons couldn't hear her.  
"Are you INSANE?  You're short of help, so you seriously think 
I'm going to just prance into your jail, so you can arrest me 
on some trumped-up charge and whore me out?"

"How's your girlfriend, Terri?  You two talk much?"  

Ashley stiffened at the mention of her friend, Terri London, the 
investigative journalist she had served time with.  Ashley had 
originally come into the Sheriff's jurisdiction to get her friend 
out of jail, only to find herself trapped behind bars herself.

"Sometimes," she said.  "What does Terri have to do with this?"

"Everything.  I'll never forget how hot you two were up on stage 
together.  Heck, it's nothing to be embarrassed about.  Like I 
said when I arrested you, all feminists are lesbians.  You two 
were the randiest little dikes I ever turned a dime on."  

"I am not a lesbian.  And neither is Terri.  We only did that 
because you strapped our bottoms until we agreed to do it."

"Yeah, I gave you a good dose of strap oil, just to get you two in 
the mood.  But that was just an excuse.  I saw the way your little 
holes were twitching while you were flicking your tongues over each 
other's buttons.  You're gayer than Jodie Foster, Rachel Maddow, 
and Billie Jean King, all sandwiched together with their tongues 
a-waggin' and their pussies twitchin'!  You telling me that you 
and your girlfriend, Terri, ain't never talked about what you did 
together...and how hot it was?"

"Sure, we've talked about it," Ashley admitted.  "I mean, not 
directly, because...we're straight.  We're not lesbians."

"The hell you're not!" the Sheriff said.  "You were the hottest 
little pussy licker I had.  Are you forgetting about how, back 
at the jailhouse, Big Fat Bertha made you her bitch -- renting 
out that little pink tongue of yours for two cigarettes a lick?"

"You're disgusting!  I don't have to listen to this."  She picked 
up the iced tea and prepared to fling it into the Sheriff's ugly, 
grinning kisser.  But his next sentence stopped her short.

"If you douse me, you won't be able to see your girlfriend.  I 
mean, see her in the way you want to see her."

Ashley put the iced tea down.  "I see Terri whenever she's in 
Chicago."

"That ain't what I mean.  I don't mean seeing her face.  I mean 
seeing her wet, juicy snatch.  And sniffing it, too."

"I told you, I'm not a lesbian." 

"Not now, no.  You're what we in the prison bidness call a 
L.U.R.D."

"A what?" Ashley said, confused.

"L.U.R.D.  Stands for "Lesbian Until Release Date."  When you two 
were in the hole, so to speak, you were lesbians.  Once we let you 
out, you got to go back to being nice girls.  But I know you miss 
it.  I know you'd like to feel her tongue all over your twat.  
That's why you two were so hot up on stage together, because all 
the guys could tell how much you LIKED IT.  Half of them came in 
their pants just watching you."

Ashley, embarrassed, flushed, and confused, downed half of the 
double in a single gulp.  "I don't know what you're talking 
about." 

"Sure you do.  And so does she."  The Sheriff nodded, looking past 
Ashley.    

Ashley turned, and, to her surprise, she found investigative 
reporter Terri London standing directly behind her.  "Hi, 
Ashley," Terri said softly.

"Terri!  What are you doing here?"  Ashley said, shocked.

"The Sheriff...he said he was going to put you in prison again.  
I couldn't let him do that to you.  I couldn't let you go to 
that horrible place...not alone."

Suddenly, the reason for Terri's presence became self-evident.  
Ashley quickly downed the rest of her whiskey.

Terri reached out and touched Ashley's hand.  The moment was 
electric.  "I feel the same way," Ashley said softly.  "I 
couldn't let them throw you in jail...alone."

The women's faces were a strange mix of horror, revulsion, and 
longing, but the Sheriff was all grin.  "You see, you want her, 
and she wants you.  And me...I'm just a businessman trying to 
turn a profit."

Terri hesitated and turned to the Sheriff.  "If we went back down 
to the jail, could we just...do what you wanted...without getting 
processed."  

"'Fraid not, honey," the Sheriff said.  "We got rules and 
procedures, and you two are going to have to toe the line, 
same as all the rest.  The heck of it is, I still haven't 
gotten around to buying a curtain for that big picture 
window in my office."

"You don't mean we'll have to strip…in front of all those leering 
yahoos!" Ashley gasped.

"Yup, birthday bare!" he replied cheerfully.  "Then you're going 
to have to put those dainty little tootsies of yours up in the 
stirrups, so all the fellows can have a good look.  After all, 
it does pay to advertise."

"And the strap?" Terri asked.

"Yeah, old Betsy's waiting for you, too!" he said brightly.  "She 
doesn't like it when her girls get uppity, and, judging from the 
awards you two have won and the fancy togs you got on, you're just 
about as uppity as they come.  You remember your old number, Terri?"

"5875-4844-8789," she replied numbly.   

"Good girl!" the Sheriff chortled.  "See, we'll get you back into 
the routine before you know it.   I got your old school uniform 
waiting for you, too, Ashley.  So you better be a good girl.

"Now I expect you two to report into my office Monday at 10 AM.  
We'll have ourselves a little parole hearing, to discuss what 
you've done with yourselves since I released you.  As you know, 
I prefer it if girls get jobs more suited to their talents, like 
waiting tables at Hooters, or dancing at Scores.  Getting to be a 
Supreme Court justice...winning Pulitzer Prizes....  You two have 
been a real disappointment to me!"  

"We're sorry, sir," Terri said, already submerging into her old 
role.

"Be prepared to spend at least 60 days as guests of the county, 
starting Monday, 10 AM.  Be on time.  "Old Betsy" thinks it's 
disrespectful when her girls are late."

The Sheriff smiled as BOTH Ashley and Terri grabbed their buns in 
panic as they fervently promised to be on time.  He laughed and 
walked out, leaving Ashley to pay the bill.

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

Ashley took Terri's hand as they left the bar.  The next two months 
would be rough, but at least they would have each other. 



Edited by C. Lakewood
 



