0 comments/  66185 views/  1 favorites

Voices

By: KissingFever



Chapter 1

The phone rang at Lily's desk and she held her breath, hoping that it was her new client from the South. She loved talking to Jack as his deep southern voice made her forget her worries for the day. Being alone in her office helped too as she often times closed the door and looked out the window while discussing bras and panties with him. Today an hour long call was scheduled because the new summer line had come in and there were many ideas that she wanted discuss with Jack. His store called "Tops and Bottoms" was the latest fashionable place to be in Atlanta and Lily wanted it to expand and become a franchise. Her line of lingerie had been a feature in the trendy adult store since it opened one year ago and everything was selling like hotcakes.

"Hello, this is Lily." She nervously gripped the phone.

"Hi Lily, this is Jack." Lily crossed her legs involuntarily as Jack's voice sent shivers through her tummy. She'd heard about phone sex and wondered if it had anything to do with the tone of a man's voice. 

"Jack, glad you could make the call. Listen, I'd like to discuss what ideas you have for the summer collection. You had mentioned a new display area in your shop."

Letting Jack take over the conversation meant that Lily could lean back and absorb his words. As usual her panties became wet even though he was only discussing lingerie. Something about the way he said "bras" and "panties" and "thongs" just made her tingle. She wondered....should she touch herself? Many times over the past several months, Lily had heard Jack say the most erotic things and wondered if he realized the effect he had on her. She knew for a fact that when she had explained how her bras actually fit, Jack had gone very quiet and she was desperate to know his thoughts at that time. Lily realized she had a sultry voice and used it to her full advantage when making a sale to a male shop owner. It was business after all.

Jack asked Lily a few questions and then began to discuss how her satin, silken, and lace wares would fit the models. His descriptions of the models started to make Lily's head swim, especially when he talked about the more delicate areas, be they male or female. For the ladies he seemed to emphasize how he wanted the breasts to almost spill out of the bra while the nipple remained hidden in the cloth, taunting the customer to touch the skin and therefore buy his product. Jack's idea for the males was to have the thongs so tight that even the head of the cock could be distinguished from the longer shaft areas. He was driving her insane!

On a whim, she had shut her door before the phone rang and was now very glad she did. With her headset on tight, she pushed her skirt out of the way and slid her hand up to her drenched panties and pushed them aside. Jack's voice was getting even huskier now and she knew she had to watch her breathing or he'd stop talking and ask if she was there, and she would not be able to speak.

Slowly she began to slide her fingers back and forth in her pussy, smearing the precum around her vaginal lips as well as surrounding her clit. Her eyes fluttered and she carefully kept her moans in check as she listened to the man with the silver voice. Every so often she'd mutter a "good idea" or "sounds great" to keep him occupied...but her hands were beginning to take on a mind of their own. She was slowly losing control.

Chapter 2

Jack dialed the number, his suntanned face bore a smile, his pants bore the commencement of an erection. He knew that Lily would be there, he hoped that her voice would be as clear as it usually was. The soft Northern voice of hers always caused the stirring in his pants. He smiled, one hour of her voice. Could he hold out? Could he wait to stroke his growing cock? He doubted it, doubted it very much.

The sun shone through his office window, a window that overlooked his store, 'Tops and Bottoms', a store that dealt with the higher income bracket of Atlanta. He loved to purvey over his empire, an empire that was growing, and this was enhanced by the availability of Lily's lingerie, the quality superb, the designs, sexual, raunchy and at times, damned hot. How he enjoyed watching the young and not so young, women shop. How he loved to watch them select, hold close to themselves, how he imagined their bodies dressed in such attire.

The telephone rang, 3 rings and he heard the voice, her voice. The smile on his face grew. As did the bulge in his pants. Hearing her greeting seemed to encourage that growth. She had been able to affect him from the outset, especially when she gave a detailed description of just how the brassieres fitted, how quiet he had gone that day, so unusual for him, but the ache between his legs was just too much, he needed all his self control to stop him from unzipping his pants, stop himself from taking his cock out and stroking there and then. Today was to be no different, none at all. That ache was back, that throbbing was back. Her voice was back, her voice was doing it.

He asked Lily a few questions, how he saw the models, both genders, dressed in her satin, silk and lace lingerie. How he saw the male models wearing her thongs, thongs that were so tight, so small, so damn near sheer with every outline visible, the heads of their cocks visible, the veins, the hardness, all outlines visible. He told her just how he saw the female models. His cock was now throbbing, an ache, he felt his hand dropping to his groin, his fingers taking hold of himself as he told Lily how he wanted to outfits to be just as translucent, just as tight, he wanted the brassieres to fit, just fit, he wanted to see the nipples to be protruding through the material whilst the breasts overflow. The female thongs to fit tight. He emphasized the word 'tight'. He wanted their lips to be visible, the material to dig into them. He stopped talking, realized that Lily was purely listening to his voice, he wanted to hear hers, he wanted to be able to unzip himself, release the straining cock from it's confines. Her answers to his questions of 'How does that sound to you?' were met with either 'good idea or sounds great'. He wanted her to talk more to him, he wanted to hear her sultry voice. 'Damn' he thought as the throbbing grew too much. The images of her, the images of the models wearing her designs. He wondered if she modeled them in the infancy stages, where did she get her ideas from? Was she how she sounded? Was she as horny as she sounded? What did she look like? What would she look like in those thongs, in those brassieres? 

He unzipped his pants, reached inside, grasped his erection, felt the head throbbing. Listening for her voice as he squeezed his shaft, tightly, causing the tip of his cock to grow purple. He needed to stroke, but was afraid she would overhear him doing that, afraid that she would hear him and slam the phone down. He had to be quiet, calm as he could be, all the time, his cock would be aching, virtually pleading for her mouth.

As she talked, his cock throbbed more, he needed to stroke. He had to stroke. He needed it, he needed to cum. He struggled to maintain his steady breathing.

Chapter 3

Suddenly someone knocked on Lily's door. She shoved her skirt down and whirled around. Telling Jack to hold a minute, she straightened her clothing and kept her hand below the desk. She cleared her throat and said huskily, "Come in". Melanie her secretary opened the door and gave her a funny look while placing some papers on her desk.

"You ok?" the secretary asked. "You look a little flushed and well....flushed."

"I'm fine, just a little warm in here." Her secretary was known to like ladies as well as the men and Lily had always found her more than competent. The fact that she was staring at Lily's chest made Lily realize that her tightknit sweater was a bit too revealing.

"I can turn down the thermostat if you like." She smiled brightly at Lily but Lily only wanted to get rid of her so she could return Jack.

"No that's ok. Just see that I'm not interrupted again." Lily gave a quick smile and reached for the phone, hoping the secretary got the hint. She did and walked out, closing the door softly behind her. Lily reached for the button to take Jack off hold. (get it? Jack off? :)

"Sorry about that Jack." 

"I understand. And I had a few moments to um...think. I was wondering Lily, why did you decide to design lingerie? Your brochure contains so many facts about your line but I want to know where your ideas spring from. Could you digress a bit? You're very interesting to me and I'd like to hear more about your original plan."

Lily was thoughtful for a minute and then decided to tell Jack the entire story. Putting aside her pleasurable thoughts she went into a detailed description.

"I was a senior in college and making ends meet by working as an asst. manager at a ladies clothing store. My boss gave me as well as three other females, an invitation to model at a businessmen's luncheon. The pay for that one show would be enough to cover my last semester's tuition. It didn't take me long to eagerly accept the job.

The day arrived and myself and the others met at the lounge. There was a dressing room all prepared for us and several changes of clothing. The material was pure heaven and the lace was woven like a spider web. We were young and looking forward to the reactions we would get not to mention the big check that had already been handed to us."

As Lily thought about how to describe her outfit, she decided to just bite the bullet and continue. Thoughts of how much revenue Tops and Bottoms would produce kind of flew out the window as she strove to hear Jack's voice. She heard labored breathing and realized that her words and voice were getting to him. Rather than be a prude and hang up, she decided to tantalize him with images of that day. 

"The first item I wore was a long silk nightie. It was made of deep blue lace and very low-cut. I had been sunbathing that summer and my body was almost a solid caramel brown. However I did not sunbathe in the nude, one can't do that where I live. So my full breasts filled out the top of the nightie, with just a hint of paleness at the laced edges. They bounced just enough with every step to show the white skin at the edges around the top. I went out to the lounge area where the men were, and began to walk down the aisle. Interestingly enough we were asked to be in our bare feet rather than high heels. This was more for sensuality than naughty. So there I was, padding down the carpeted aisle parallel with the men's tables. The laced nightie was quite sheer and if you looked carefully you could see the outline of my nipples which were rapidly hardening. The feel of the silk against my breasts was very erotic to me and coupled with the music that was playing, well, I began to feel quite seductive. I must admit to swaying a bit more than was needed. I walked towards the end and turned around, glancing around at the men. Some eyes were focused on my face, and some on my body. I allowed my hands to run over myself as if to feel the material, and I heard a moan. I looked in that direction and the gentleman quickly stifled it with a cough, but not before I realized how sensual a woman can be. I smiled softly and slowly walked back down the aisle. My hands went to the back of my neck and lifted my dark blond locks as the music played on. You could have heard a pin drop at the end. It was then that I knew I had to design these erotic clothes for a living. They felt so wonderful to wear that I knew the ladies that bought them like myself, would be able to make any man swoon. That's why your store is so important Jack. These items can't sell themselves, they need the right atmosphere and I believe you can provide that."

Lily stopped talking then and quickly sipped a drink of water. She waited for Jack to say something.

"Jack...Jack are you there?"

Chapter 4

Jack sat there, his cock firm, hard. His fingers closed around it. Her voice was mesmerizing him, his libido. He heard her telling him to hold on a minute, the phone went quiet. He sighed as he laid back in his large black leather chair, his cock in his hand, squeezing it, stroking it.

Unbuckling his belt, undoing the top clasp, he parted his pants. Taking advantage of the quietness, he slipped his pants down, down to his ankles. His boxer shorts followed. He sat there holding his cock, his strong thigh muscles tight. The images of her flashing through his mind, the images of her breasts, thighs, legs, the pussy. 

Her voice brought his mind back to the present. It startled him slightly, he was deep in thought, idly stroking, squeezing his shaft, his thick shaft. "That's okay Lily" he said to her as she apologized for having him on hold. "I understand, it gave me a few moments to ermmm think. I was wondering why you decided to start your design business. I was looking through the brochure the other day and there are so many facts in there and I guess I got to wondering where the ideas sprung from."

While he was saying this, his cock throbbed, recalling the lines in the brochure, the models, the way the nipples always were visible, the way the breasts were uplifted by the brassieres, taut pert breasts, unhindered breasts clearly visible under the sheer material. He asked her how the original plan came to her, telling her that she was interesting to him and that he would love to hear more of her, of her start, of her thoughts on designs.

Jack sat back on his chair, waiting, perusing, stroking. The phone went silent for a moment, he thought that he had asked too much, spoke too much, wanted too much. He felt a tinge of embarrassment at his questions, but he could not help it, he needed to know, wanted to dig into her past, into her mind, but more than that, he wanted time to relax, hear her voice, stroke the throbbing cock in his hand. She spoke, he smiled as he heard the silence broken. 

Putting the telephone on to the speaker mode, he placed the receiver on his large deep mahogany desk, leaving him with free hands, an unrestricted access. 

As Lily went on to tell him how she started, how she walked down and around the carpeted floor, barefoot. How she told him of how her nipples hardened, her tanned body, tanned breasts. The images of her became clearer, she was being very descriptive, her dark blond hair, her full breasts. The images built in his mind as he began to stroke his hard cock, as he cupped his shaved balls, rolling them, cupping them. His hand speed increased as she went on to tell him about the way she felt, the way she ran her hands over her full breasts, over the satin material, how she looked at the man, tantalizing him, how she heard the moan as she ran her hands over her body, how she looked at the man upon hearing his moan, the stifled cough. How she sashayed along the carpet, flicking her long dark blond hair as she walked. 

Those images came through strong, very strong. He visualized her walking, the way her nipples stood proud, forming an outline against the soft satin, the way her breasts filled out the top of the nightie, the way she told him of the men's eyes upon her, upon her face, upon her body. The way it affected her, just like the way she affected the men, the way she was affecting him. 

His hand moved faster, he was losing control, his breathing was becoming labored, hard, shallow. His hand moving, blurring speed. He was losing it, he was close, he was ready to explode, he was throbbing. His thigh muscles clenched, his hand squeezing his shaft, so tight as his hand moved up and down the thick length. His eyes were closed, those images, those breasts, those nipples. 

He was almost out of control when he heard a different tone in her voice, she was calling him, calling out his name. He struggled to regain control, his cock was throbbing, the precum oozing out of the slit, coating his angry purple head. He needed the relief, he needed to cum. Struggling, he picked up the telephone, his cock literally throbbing, the precum oozing out. 

He took a deep breath. "Yes Lily, I am here". He hoped, he prayed that his shaking voice didn't come over to her, or his breathing. He hoped he sounded normal.

Chapter 5

Lily heard Jack pick up the phone and realized that she had been on his speaker phone. For a brief moment she was horrified to think that perhaps he had a friend in the room with him and was toying with her...letting her seduce them with her voice. Then she realized how silly that was. She wasn't arrogant enough to think that she could do that, and even if she could it wouldn't matter if there was another man present. That was a fantasy that she had dwelled on from time to time. She shook her mind free of THAT thought and listened to Jack. 

He quickly explained in a breathless voice that he needed to cut the phone call short due to an emergency. Lily smiled to herself, hoping that perhaps the "emergency" had been due to her. She was beginning to like this client, maybe too much in fact. But hey, it was for a good cause right? Jack promised to call back in the morning and quickly hung up. Lily completed her agenda for the day and decided to head home early. As much fun as it was talking to Jack, she had become quite tense (albeit good tension) and now she wanted to just relax and take a bath.

Arriving home, she threw her purse and keys on the countertop and slipped her high heels off. Part of her job included meeting clients and in order to encourage the sensuality of her clothing, she dressed the part to a certain extent. However at the end of the day she no longer had to worry about decorum and quickly shed her clothes on the way to the bathroom flinging her silk blouse on the couch and slipping off her skirt in the dining room. Her lace stockings were the last to be peeled off and were unceremoniously tossed over a highback chair.

Lily loved the feel of the luxurious carpet against her feet as she padded through the house, turning on lights and putting in a CD. On a whim she decided to light some candles and carried a few into the bath with her. Rather than turn on the lights, she allowed the glow of the candles to luminate the room. The scent of jasmine permeated the air as she started the bath and sprinkled some bubblebath into the water.

Waiting for the water to fill the large tub, Lily perused herself in the bodylength mirror. She wasn't a spring chicken and yet her body did not show many signs of age. Indeed age had improved her shape as her hips were nonexistent during her teenage years but were very shapely now. She turned sideways and her full breasts were deliciously sloped and her backside was nicely curved. She smiled at the thought of a southern gentleman touching that silken body and proceeded to slide into the bath with Jack on her mind. 

Lily loosened her hair and let it tumble down her shoulders. Her body sank deep into the water and the bubbles more than covered her tanned skin. She closed her eyes and let the sound of Enigma take her away as The Principles of Lust echoed through her apartment speakers. It had been a very very long time since she had been as aroused as she was today. And to think it was only from talking to Jack! She blushed to think of meeting him in person and wondered if that would ever happen. While her thoughts drifted to him, her hand slid down her softened body as she rubbed a loofa sponge over herself, allowing the water to drip from her like dew from a petal. She soaped herself while using the cloth to wash the drier skin away. The music began to get to her and she put the sponge aside, sinking into the water and closing her eyes. Her hands moved over her breasts and she smiled to herself as her nipples tightened. Yes indeed it had been a long time. She gently caressed each breast as a lover would and allowed her fingers to slide sensuously over the nipples. The music became more impassioned and Lily moved her hands down to her thighs. The softest place on a woman's body was her inner thighs, and Lily longed to be kissed there. Jack intruded into her thoughts again and her body abruptly twisted in a small jolt of pleasure as her finger circled her clit. As she teased herself, her other finger played with the opening of her pussy. She dare not use a finger on herself as her nails were too long, but she could play...oh could she play. 


Voices



This story was my first try at the dark future genre. With the nomination of THE RUN for a year end award, there has been renewed interest in that story as well as requests for more. This story introduces several of the minor characters and expands upon the world. It isn't necessary to have read The Run to enjoy this story, but if you have, it will give you a better feel for Characters like Nelson and Irish.

CET Sunday, March 15th, 15:00 Hours

At the first screech of the alarm Nelson's eyes popped open. He was fully awake in the way only a longtime soldier could be. He instantly regretted it, the pounding in his head and blurred view of the cracked ceiling reminding him forcefully of last night's drinking. He sat up, his stomach protesting violently. As he tried to make it to the small alcove that passed for a bathroom, his feet hit the empty bottles strewn on the floor near his bed. Nelson crashed to the floor in a cursing vomiting heap. He lurched to his feet and stumbled into the alcove. With a heave, his stomach tried to expel more of the poison he had filled himself with last night.

For several minutes Nelson stayed on his knees hugging the cool porcelain bowl. He wretched until nothing was left to come up, finally lifting himself heavily to his feet and turning on the water in the wash basin. Taking a dirty washcloth from the overflowing hamper in the corner he wet it and wiped his face. The image that greeted his blurry eyes in the mirror actually brought a ghost of a smile to his face.

Bloodshot blue eyes peered out from under his bushy eyebrows. His once thin, finely chiseled face was now gaunt and pale. His lips compressed into a thin razorlike gash behind three days of stubble. The high cheekbones his mother had constantly kidded him about as a youth only added to the overall effect, making him look like one of the living dead from one of those bad movies his son used to love.

Nelson washed his face again and stared thoughtfully at the toothbrush. His stomach growled and he decided that discretion was the better part of valor this morning. Besides, he wasn't going anywhere and he never had visitors in the single room he rented here in the worst part of old town Singapore.

Nelson stripped off the uniform top, now dirty beyond wearing, and tossed it in the hamper. A crisscross network of scars decorated his broad chest and back. A doctor would have been able to identify several types of wounds; slashes, punctures, entry and exit wounds. Almost anything that the human body could endure and recover from was written in Nelson's pale skin. Nelson didn't need a doctor to tell him about those scars. Each one told a story, a story only he knew. Permanent reminders of a past he wished to forget. The ceramic holes in each wrist were the most painful reminders to him. He had saved up several times to have them removed, but something always prevented him from it.

Nelson removed the black trousers next. These were now vomit stained as well and even he couldn't make himself wear them. His legs and buttocks were just as scarred as the rest of him. Nelson stepped into the cube and turned on the water. It was cold, and soon had soaked into his long black hair and was sheeting down his body. The shock of the cold water roused him some and he flipped the control over to hot. Nelson breathed deeply, letting the steam do its best to rehydrate his body. He was an old hand at dealing with hangovers and knew all the tricks.

The steam and heat reminded him of the jungle. Some South American shithole, squatting next to a jungle track. Never knew where and it didn't much matter. Four guerrillas were moving cautiously up the track. He could still feel the cold steel of the H&K G-99 assault rifle gripped in his sweaty hands, could smell the rotting jungle around him and hear the insects buzzing in his ears. That was when he was still a man, before the jacks, before the chips, before the smart optics and long before he had the wealth of experience needed to sense a trap. He had taken careful aim and released a spray of copper jacketed death into the four men. He could still see the flash of the grenade launcher, almost like a movie in frame by frame. 

The water had gone cold. Nelson switched it off and pulled a dirty towel from the hamper. In a few moments he had dried himself and wrapped it around his waist. As he reentered the bedroom, he glanced at the digital clock. 3:40, still two hours before work. Work? Well, what passed for work. He eyed the closet where his last clean uniform hung. White shirt, black trousers and black cummerbund. The outfit of a waiter at the Café Du Margarite.

Another uniform hung there, still sealed in the black plastic of the dry cleaners. How long since that had been put there? A year? Two? Maybe more. Nelson's mind struggled with the bland routine that had become his life. Time simply had no meaning. With effort, Nelson pieced together the date and did the math. Three years tomorrow. Three years of living like an average denizen of Singapore.

Was it really three years since he had stood in the back room that passed for an office and told Sharky to sit and spin? He could remember the gnomish little man's face, the snide grin upon it. His own feelings were so sure back then. He was out, no more. Now? Now he was sick of having no money, sick of kowtowing to every asshole who could afford to eat at the café. And most of all sick of himself, sick of the shell of a man he had become.

The buzzing of the vid phone roused him from his dark thoughts. Probably the café wanting him to come in early. Screw it. Let them find someone else to handle the last of the lunch crowd.

Nelson began to clean up the mess in the floor, but the phone continued to buzz insistently. With an irritated twist Nelson said, "Answer, image off."

There was a hum and a click. International connection? Nelson waited quietly. The blank screen gave away nothing. For the first time in ages Nelson clicked up the mag on his eyes and brought the tiny printout at the bottom of the screen into hard focus. 23453 code. India? Still no sound.

After a few more seconds of silence Nelson said, "Image on."

A ghost from his past stared out at him. Eyes hidden by mirrored shades, tight lips curled into a grin. Nelson sat heavily on the bed, words failing him. 

"Nelson. Been a while," the image said in that easy southern drawl. Nelson remembered that drawl. Never figured to hear it again. 

That same drawl, a calming voice in his ear amidst the gunfire and explosions. Nelson was Corporal Nelson then. In a jungle up to his ass, with his team being slaughtered by separatist guerrillas. Mortar fire was falling among their hastily thrown up defensive positions. Already he was down to three effectives. And all the while that smooth, calm drawl coming through the earpiece. Promising the extraction team would be there with gunship support. They fought until there was no ammunition left, then with fists, knives and riflebutts. Inevitably numbers prevailed and they were over run. The gunships never arrived.

Nelson had been taken with Parks and Vorkiser to the rebel camp. Thrown into bamboo cages, they had suffered three days of torture and abuse.

On the fourth day they took Vorkiser away. Nelson and Parks were squatting in their cages covered in their own filth when they heard the screams begin. Something inside Nelson froze. Vorkiser was a tough man, tougher than Nelson. What could be making him scream so hideously?

When they dragged him back later Nelson got his answer. Vorkiser's eyes were empty sockets, his left arm gone, the stump still oozing blood through a black tarry substance smeared over it. They had cut out his wetware. Nelson suddenly felt the weight of his own cybernetics.

They threw the maimed man back into his cage, a death sentence considering the filth and heat. The three camouflage clad men approached his cage next. Nelson braced himself. He would rather be killed than have that happen to him, he tensed and waited for the door to open.

The sudden staccato of a light automatic weapon interrupted the men. They did a macabre dance as they collapsed into heaps in front of him. Several explosions took out the como tent and the barracks hut. In moments it was over. The quiet was ominous.

A very tall man in tiger striped fatigues approached him, a smoking Armalite in his hands. He stopped before Nelson's cage. As his eyes moved over the scene the he took out a cigarette and lit it.

He dragged long and hard on the cigarette, the cherry lighting red. His eyes fixed on Nelson.

"Sorry I'm late."

That same slow drawl.

"Major?" was all Nelson could manage.

"In the flesh," came the sardonic reply.

Nelson started to speak, but the image beat him to it. 

"Nelson, I need your help."

Nelson found himself smiling. That was the Major for you. Cut to the chase. No asking about how you are or anything. Always business first.

Nelson shook his head, "Major, I'm out. Have been for a while. I thought you retired, too?"

"I was retired, but not by choice," the image replied.

"Sorry Major, I never heard about it," Nelson said quietly.

"Doesn't matter, I need your help." 

"Major, I haven't taken a job in three years. I am out of the Biz. I walked away before it got me killed," Nelson said, a note of pleading in his voice.

"You owe me, Nelson, and I got no one else to turn to."

"Damnit all to hell," Nelson muttered.

"Skyjockey'll be there in half an hour with the data card. It's up to you whether you look at it or not." With that the screen went black.

"Trace," Nelson snarled.

The wall unit hummed for a few moments, then there was an audible clicking sound. 

"Trace completed at-"

Nelson impatiently cutoff the electronic voice, "Dial back."

It rang several times before the screen came on. A dapper man in business attire with a suitcase in his hand said, "Hello?"

"Kill," Nelson said quickly. Damned airport. He called me from a fucking airport. Has he lost his mind? Or is he in that much trouble?

Nelson dressed quickly, he moved to the tiny kitchenette and made a pot of coffee. While it was brewing he took a shoebox from the top shelf of his closet and tossed it on the bed. By the time the doorbell rang he was on his second cup. For the first time in a long time he answered the door carefully. A young girl in the blue and red uniform of a skycap stood there.

"Jack Nelson?" she asked cheerfully in badly accented English.

Nelson nodded and placed his thumb on the proffered scanner. The girl checked it then removed a thick manila folder from her shoulder and handed it to him. Nelson dug into his pocket and tossed her a Hong Kong dollar. She looked at him with a little bit of astonishment on her face, it was way too big a tip.

Nelson smiled and closed the door. He tossed the envelope on the bed then lit a cigarette. He contemplated as he smoked it. If he opened that envelope, he was throwing away three years. He looked around the squalid little room. His eyes lit on his waiter's uniform. If he did this he would lose his job, a job he had pulled a lot of strings to get. A job he realized suddenly that he hated with every fiber of his being. With a smile on his face he finished his coffee and went to get another cup.

Seating himself on the floor he opened the shoe box and removed a small data encryption machine. It was flat and black, sleek German technology. Hopelessly out of date. But the Major was just as out of touch with the latest technology, he guessed wryly as he tore open the envelope and spilled its contents on the floor.

Nelson swept up the data card and plugged it into the machine. The display flashed green and then came up. Nelson smiled to himself. Just as much out of touch as he was. An hour later, the ashtray was full of butts and his eighth cup of coffee sat half emptied and cold. Nelson shut down the little machine and rubbed his eyes. 

He then stood up and began to pace. Damn, he could see why the Major needed help. But something like this would take a team, and he didn't have a team anymore. Or did he?

Carrie was still in Singapore, and there was always Irish. Now came the moment of truth, do you do it? Or do you toss the stuff in the incinerator and hurry to work with a lame excuse for being late? Anyone but the Major and he might have stayed out. But he had no choice, he owed the man. And the Major was one of the few people in the world Nelson still called friend.

With a shrug he walked to the closet and fished out the black wrapped bag. Tearing the wrapping off, he almost reverently removed the dark black uniform. It still fit mostly. A little loose here and there, he was down from his fighting weight. I'll have to remember that, he thought to himself.

Nelson made his way down the rickety staircase and out into the crowded streets. For three years he had taken these same steps daily, but now it was different. His Nimjaka 485-Ks were on. The whole world appeared different. He could see the cracks in the old walls, the faded spots in the carpet. When the low light enhancement kicked in, down in the foyer it startled him. The 485's had been state of the art when he got them. They were still good eyes, still cut it. They had cost him the proceeds of three lucrative jobs for Nimjaka Corp.

The 485-Ks were top notch. Low-light, high res, Infrared, ultraviolet, integrated targeting system, HUD and several other gizmo's Nelson didn't understand. The flash suppression and auto dampening features were so fast that he almost forgot they were there. 

Nelson stopped in the doorway and examined the streets. His old cautiousness was coming back. And the fact that the Major called him over an open line left him nervous. The Major was elite, the best of the best. If he had trouble, you could bet it was heavy. And if he needed help that went double.

Nelson hailed a cab and gave the driver an uptown address. The cabby looked at him dubiously, but Nelson looked out the window and ignored him. Nelson felt naked now. An average Joe didn't need guns, but he did now. And he didn't have his. Funny how he hadn't noticed it in the last three years.

When the driver pulled in at the curb Nelson tossed him a handfull of bills and walked. His actual destination was two blocks away, but he wanted to watch his back trail. He reached it minutes later, no one was tailing him. Or if they were, they were very, very good.

Nelson stood before the blank concrete façade. The door was a heavy vault-like structure with no windows or locks. A small keycard slot was the only thing that broke its smooth surface. Nelson swiped his card along the slot and the door slid open. He ducked inside quickly. Exactly five seconds later the door slid noiselessly shut on its well greased tracks.

The interior was cool. The floor covered in a thick carpet. Heavy brocade drapes covered the walls. A few people moved purposefully through the lobby. Most were dressed well, upper corp or those who wanted to be thought of as such. The ladies in dresses and heels, the men in sharp suits. If he hadn't known the nature of the establishment he might have felt out of place.

Nelson crossed the broad lobby and stopped at the desk. An obsequious man immediately rushed to attend him. Nelson studied him for a moment. Asian, with a rat-like face and oily manner that made Nelson feel dirty just speaking to him. 

"May I help you?" he inquired. 

Nelson wondered suddenly if he had that look on his face when patrons entered the café. He shuddered.

"221," he said curtly.

The attendant went to a terminal and pressed a few buttons. The retinal scanner rose silently from the hardwood top of the desk. Nelson looked in and then said "Nelson, 2345323".

A small magnetic card slid out of a slot. Nelson took it and made his way to the elevator. He could feel the attendant's eyes staring into his back.

Nelson got off at the second floor and made his way down the hall. A thick red carpet ran down the center of the richly tiled hallway. Tasteful prints hung at intervals. Evenly spaced along the hallway were white numbered doors. Like a fancy hotel, he thought. He reached 221 and inserted the card. The faux wood door slid back with a hydraulic hiss and he walked in.

The room was exactly as he'd left it three years ago. Four long black cases and one smaller one. A strong box sat in a corner. A duster hung on a dilapidated coat tree. Other than this the room was empty. Nelson remembered leaving here, swearing he would never come back. Never meant three years, he thought cheerlessly.

Nelson took the smaller case and held it in his hands. If he opened this, he would be back. He hesitated only for a moment, then set it on the floor and clicked the clasps. With a mechanical whir, the top of the case rose. The hiss of air signaled that the hermetic seal had held.

Inside sat a pair of unusual pistols. One facing one way and one the other. They were larger and more bulky than most pistols, with a heavy chamber and ventilated barrels and real wood grips. Four spare clips sat in the plush red velvet liner. Four extra power cells were nestled along the top of the case. Inscribed along the barrel of each was Martell Inc. Model 9. 

Martell was a wholly owned subsidiary of H&K now, but three years ago they had been a force in the arms industry. They had introduced the concept of gauss technology and their weapons had been some of the most sought after hardware on the planet. Each one had a smart chip in it that would analyze and integrate with almost any optics package and would auto calibrate to point blank for any range you happened to want in a nanosecond.

They were basically miniature railguns, the magnetic array would accelerate the titanium alloy spikes it used for ammunition to an incredible 5000 foot pounds per second. At that muzzle velocity, there was no armor in existence it would not penetrate out to 1000 yards. Even vehicle armor was no sure protection. 

For the most part they had done their business in rifles. The Martell XR-5 had become the weapon of choice for snipers around the world. They had done a very limited business in pistols. The reasons for this were largely matters of magazine capacity; or more accurately, the power supply. Each clip held fifteen metal shards, a respectable number of shots. But at full power the magnets would deplete one of the energy clips in about four shots. You would usually get a fifth shot, but you never knew how much power was left, could never be sure the shot would leave the gun with a sufficient velocity to get penetration.

The second problem was damage. Soft targets would barely slow the shards, thus making only tiny holes. Only a hit on a major bone or organ would knock a soft target down. Against an armored foe however, they were superb. And rare. A pair of them would go for well over one hundred thousand Hong Kong dollars today. Nelson took one out with unusual care. 

He snapped in the clip and slid home the magazine. With a flick he chambered a round. From the case he pulled a black DNI cable and jacked it into the gun, then he jacked the other end into the tiny ceramic socket in his wrist. Lines of red code blurred across his HUD as the gun and his eyes meshed. A red targeting cross appeared on the overlay. A smile creased Nelson's face.

He removed the second gun and jacked it in. In short order both guns were set for 250 yards. Nelson coiled the NI cables and stuffed them in his pocket. Lifting the red inner liner he removed the dual shoulder rig he had made for the guns. They were black leather with extra room to accomdate the guns' unusual size. He put them on and their weight comforted him. He tried a few practice draws. The guns came free easily with a motion that defied the eye to follow it. Nelson was pleased. At least he hadn't lost that.




Voices



From the case he took the special black gloves. These gloves were made of soft leather, but at certain points, where neural pads implanted in his palms made contact with the gun's sensors, the gloves were made of a special fiber weave that did not impede neural transfer.

With a purposeful motion Nelson moved to the cases opened one of the longer ones. Inside, seated in a red velvet lining, was a TXK Auto shotgun. In a practiced motion he broke the weapon down, inspected it and reassembled it. From the case he removed the shoulder strap that allowed him to carry the gun. Attaching the strap, he let it dangle underneath his arm. A few practice tries and he was able to bring it to his shoulder and sight down the barrel with his old ease.

Nelson removed the black duster from the coat hook and tried it on. Specially cut, with micro holo projectors to compensate for the extra bulk of his weapons, he looked unarmed to the untrained eye.

Lastly, he removed the strongbox from the corner. From it he removed stacks of bills and a black hat. He placed $25,000 in the secret pockets of the duster and closed the box again. Standing, he pulled on the battered black Stetson and turned on his heels.

Monday, March 16th, 01:00 hours

Nelson walked easily down the street. He'd had the better part of the day to get used to packing again. An observer would mark him as a dangerous man. He moved with fluid grace and his face had taken on a hard edge that had been altogether absent just hours ago. His eyes darted here and there, always on the alert, never resting long on any one object or person.

He was in Singapore's red-light district. Blaring neon advertised hardwired girls and the best live shows. In smaller, less ostentations doorways you could see the bouncers inspecting everyone. Those clubs catered to more than your average seaman on leave or pimply faced kid with hormones raging. This was Singapore and for a price anything could be had. 

Nelson passed VR bars with people jacked into a sim reality. That reality was totally dependant on the quality of their hardware and the quality of the chip. The best were still European. Usually coming out of Germany.

He passed the shady doors of opium dens. Even in this high tech world, the age old curse of the Chinese still claimed its share of wretched souls. Other places dealt in high tech synthetics that could bring pleasure beyond enduring or visions of hell that would make Dante cringe.

Each new generation found its own way to do itself in, Nelson thought wryly. He was passing the fringe now. Shops carrying anything from old fashioned sex toys to the latest in create-your-own fantasy chips. The neon was less present, more iron grills and security doors. Here there was an end to the business day. For the majority of the city's waking hours these shops were closed. Their owners were like the vampires of old. Waking with the day's end and secured inside their crypts before the cleansing rays of the sun arrived.

Nelson was now in the section of the red light district they called the Fruit Loop. This section catered to Singapore's gay community. He passed the doors to the Clit Club where a massive bull dyke was standing guard. Nelson eyed her curiously as he passed. Her skin was an iridescent color. Body plating for sure. Her eyes were Yamato Mrk 17s. Corporate security moonlighting, he decided. She stared back at him with the hard appraising glare of a professional. A curt nod was her only reaction to him, but it was enough to make Nelson feel good about himself. Recognition from a kindred soul. 

Next was a string of places advertising young boys in red neon. Nelson was already uncomfortable. Long years of training had taught him to feel people's eyes upon him. But here it was more likely one of the made up punks, or an older gent in a business suit eyeing him with nothing more dangerous in mind than a rendezvous. Still he could feel the eyes. He passed a club called Rawhides, a country western bar catering to the leather and denim crowd.

More of the same greeted him as he crossed the street. The streets were still crowded and at places he had to shoulder his way through the press of bodies. Nelson lashed out and broke the wrist of a prissy young man in a mini skirt and halter top who had tried to cop a feel. The scream of pain in a high voice that wasn't close to a falsetto brought a smile to Nelson's face. 

"Damn Jolly," he thought as he stalked along through the crowded streets.

Jolly. The man was a legend in Singapore's underworld. No one had a finger on the pulse of the city like Jolly. No one had better connections, with friends in the corporate world as well as in the underworld. Crime bosses consulted him. Corporate execs put out contracts through him. Outside interests paid him handsomely for information when they planed to move in.

Nelson reached a small place between two of the bigger clubs. The Men's Room, a garish green sign proclaimed. There was a young kid behind a sheet of inch thick safety glass. Blonde hair, garish makeup. Clothing off the rack from some cheap discount store.

"Ten dollars honey, two drink minimum," he announced in a falsetto that grated on Nelson's nerves.

Nelson tossed a HongKong ten through the slot in the heavy glass.

"Have fun, honey," the irritating voice followed him inside.

Inside it was dark, his lowlight kicked up and he was sorry they had. A live sex show was going on, up on stage. Two young boys were working hard on a large Negro. Pretty boys in spandex jocks maneuvered through the crowded tables serving drinks. On stages at either end of the club, female impersonators with massive implants did strip teases. In the seats, shows fully as explicit as those on stage were being performed by the clubs many patrons.

The music was a blare of techno pop and howling industrial. Anything with a beat the performers could gyrate to. Nelson adjusted the filters on his hearing until the music was moved far into the background. He dimmed his lowlight with a thought. The unnatural light returned to a dark club, much to Nelson's liking.

He saw Jolly sitting at his usual booth. Two gangbangers in denim stood sentinel. All chrome and swagger. As Nelson made his way, the larger of the two nudged his sidekick and they moved to block him. They dwarfed him, but he was not impressed. In his present mood he more than half hoped they would try something. He didn't like this place. And he was on edge.

Before they could say anything a low whistle issued from the table. Like well trained hounds they stepped aside. Nelson slid into the booth across from Jolly. It had been three years, but he hadn't changed.

A tight, chiseled face. The constant look of someone forced to drink sour milk upon it. Graying hair at the temples. Impeccable suit, tailored to fit his slight frame.

"Well, well. Nice to see you again, Jack." Same voice. Same clipped British accent. Same nasal quality to it. Nelson could easily believe the man had been sitting there in that exact same spot since the last time Nelson had seen him. Fixed and immobile as the Nataki building downtown,

A heavily muscled man in a spandex g-string walked up. His well muscled body glistened with a sheen of oil. Jolly barely acknowledged him.

"The usual," he said curtly.

"And for you sir?" Voice too small for the body. Not the high pitched falsetto, but a softer lisp.

"Bourbon, neat," Nelson replied, not looking at the man. He was vaguely aware of the waiter as he worked his way back towards the bar through the crowd.

There were a lot of rumors about Jolly. And a lot of them centered on his choice of business for a front. The most popular was that the little man was a flamer himself. Nelson didn't believe it. He had watched Jolly's eyes to many times. They scanned over the incredible debauchery going on around him without the faintest flicker of emotion. An almost clinical detachment that any scientist would have envied.

Nelson's theory was that Jolly was asexual. The only time the man showed the slightest hint of emotion was when he was discussing business. Show the man a hardwired blonde bombshell and he wouldn't spare a second glance. Show him a datacard with the personnel info from a minor corp and his eyes would light with an unholy fire. Greed, lust and the many ways the info could be used melded into a look that would make a hungry tiger's stare seem tame.

For a man who reacted like that to power, sex could never come close to the high. It would be more of a chore than a joy. 

Nelson believed that Jolly's choice of meeting place was nothing more than another edge. Like using your first name when you only knew him as Jolly. He liked to keep people off balance. And nothing worked like it. Some of the most dangerous men in the world, cool under any kind of fire, were as uncomfortable as a whore in church in Jolly's place. 

Jolly knew that vast majority of men in Nelson's line of work were straight. Nelson could name on one hand the number of openly gay runners. Nothing would put these men at ill ease like Jolly's set up. Everywhere he looked, Nelson was surrounded by men engaged in the rawest of acts. The stages were positioned so you could not look anywhere in the place without seeing it. The tables placed nearby, with the muffled groans and animal sounds of passion, added to the overall effect.

Nelson made it a point when he walked in to look at the stages, to let the shock wear off. Then once he sat down, he either looked at Jolly himself or at the table. Even then he was never totally comfortable, which was just what Jolly wanted as far as Nelson could tell.

"So what can I do for you?" Jolly asked.

"Yamato," Nelson said.

Jolly raised an eyebrow. Nothing more. No surprise. He waited for Nelson to expand. When he remained, silent Jolly spoke. His voice was slow, every word calculated.

"One of the pretenders," Jolly said slowly. "They are rumored to be close to a breakthrough in VR. Something more addictive than anything that has been seen. No one knows how close they are. Right now they keep themselves afloat with minor subcontracts and some less than legal operations."

"Cheap chipping?" Nelson asked.

Jolly looked at him sharply. Then nodded slightly.

"Then they have plenty of enemies," Nelson went on.

"What's your interest?" Jolly asked. Nelson had known this would come. Jolly lived on information, and he demanded to know what was going on with the people he worked with. It was just the price of doing business with him. Nelson had to decide how much to tell. To flatly refuse would end the interview. To give away too much would put his life on the line. Nelson didn't trust Jolly that far.

"Marcel Duvet," Nelson said at last.

"Duvet? The Belgian?" Jolly asked.

"The same," Nelson replied.

"He is currently on the Yamato payroll as a security adviser. Read hired killer," Jolly said.

"He is, but in three days he won't be," Nelson said slowly. Jolly's eyes narrowed. That wolfish look of greed slowly settled on him.

"I know his contract is up then, but I had no indication that Yamato was not planning to retain him."

"He isn't going back. He already has another employer," Nelson said simply.

Jolly's face became tight, his eyes hard. They glittered like flint in the clubs lighting. He was mad. Someone would pay for it.

"You already know more than I do apparently," he said shortly. "I do not see how I can help you."

"I don't need information on Duvet. I need a job against Yamato," Nelson said quickly. He could see Jolly was about to cut the interview short. And Nelson needed him.

Jolly made a clucking sound in his throat. His reply was interrupted by the waiter returning with their drinks. Nelson sipped his and nearly spit it out. Real bourbon. Not synth. Only the best for Jolly and his guests. Nelson tried again and this time the fiery, smoky taste was wonderful.

"A job? Ahhh, I see," Jolly finally said. "You intend to kill Duvet. But you need a team to breach the security and get to him. And your employer isn't paying enough? Or anything?"

Nelson nodded slowly. He hadn't counted on Jolly's perceptiveness. He was a little closer to the true picture than Nelson would have liked. The unasked question hung there.

When it became obvious to Jolly that no answer was forth coming he sipped his drink. 

"There are three current contracts out for runs against Yamato. Unfortunately, two don't pay enough for what you want. They're funded by private concerns. The one that does isn't something you would like doing"

"Try me," Nelson said.

"You've heard of Syntech?" Jolly asked.

"Yeah, tough Corp. A real predator," Nelson said.

"Yes," was Jolly's reply.

"Four months ago a researcher left Syntech to go to work for Yamato. You know that Syntech never lets you leave. The researcher is, of course out of anyone's grasp. But his family is living inside the Yamato complex. Syntech is offering two-fifty for his daughter," Jolly said.

As he finished he looked at Nelson, his gray eyes measuring.

"What are they going to do to her?" Nelson finally asked.

Jolly's face registered real surprise. 

"Come on, Jack. You know I don't know that. And even if I did I wouldn't be at liberty to tell you. For what it's worth I do not believe they mean any harm to the child. I think they just want her as a lever to force her father back to Syntech."

Nelson nodded slowly. 

"I'll take it, Jolly," Nelson said.

"Fine. I was beginning to worry. Most of my regulars didn't want it. Yamato is a tough nut to crack. I was afraid I would have to give it to amateurs," Jolly was expansive suddenly. Nelson waited. He knew Jolly always demanded a price. It was usually a cut of the client's payoff. 

"I want to know who hired the Belgian," Jolly said easily.

Nelson smiled to himself. He had hoped the hanging question would be more interesting than a cut of the payoff. 

"I'll let you know when I do," Nelson said easily.

Jolly nodded and brought out a leather wallet from his inside pocket. He produced a single data card. Sliding it across the table, he returned the wallet to his pocket. Nelson took the card, wondering idly how many more were in there. How much money was sitting there waiting to be earned? How many deaths were in that plain leather wallet?

Nelson took the card, pocketed it and rose to leave. As he exited his eyes kicked up to shield him from the neon landscape. 

"That was quick, sweetie," followed him from the glass booth. 

Nelson just kept walking.

Monday, March 16th, 09:00 hours

Nelson threaded his way through the crowds of Little China, a black attaché case handcuffed to his arm. Men in their "housecoats" moved by him carrying everything from groceries to brown paper wrapped packages. Those packages contained anything from opium to illegal VR chips, wetware of questionable quality to the occasional package of nothing more threatening than cigarettes.

Women in traditional dresses threaded through the press of bodies, babies strapped to their backs. Little China was like stepping back into time. Only the occasional westerner could be seen. No wonder Chang stayed here.

Chang was something of an enigma himself. A smallish Chinaman with a deep seated dislike of westerners. He was also the best there was at having the equipment men like Nelson depended on, for a price. 

Nelson reached the small restaurant that Chang operated to cover his other enterprises. He took a seat in a window booth and watched the human tidal wave as it moved through the narrow streets.

"What can I get you?" a listless voice inquired.

Nelson looked up. A waitress. Caucasian, in a cheap synsilk kimono that left little to the imagination. Pretty face, but gaunt. Nelson immediately pegged her as a junkie. His eyes upped the mag as he looked at her. Arms, legs, hands. No track marks. Then he saw it, DNI jack behind her ear. VR then.

Nelson ordered sake and moo goo gai pan. Her hands flew across her order pad. Hard wired then. As she moved off with an almost mechanical motion Nelson looked at the other help. Three girls. Same cheap kimonos, same washed out looks. 

As he watched a hulking oriental grabbed one of them by the arm and half led, half dragged her back to one of the two rooms behind the restaurant. Nelson knew those rooms. He had spent a week in one recovering after a run had gone bad. Chang had been the perfect host, providing him with food, shelter, and deflecting the questions of the corp heavies who were after him. They also served as private places for the waitresses to earn an occasional dollar or two.

Chang took great delight in having caucasian girls doing the menial work of his restaurant. He took even more delight in having them sell themselves to orientals. Always with the chip, or drug of choice just out of reach.

Nelson never really understood why. The little man had a pathological hatred of westerners. He would constantly harp on the wrongs inflicted on his people by the western imperialists in bygone times if you let him. He kept a stable of girls, all addicted to one vice or another. It was rare to see the same girl waiting tables in Chang's place on any two visits.

But he was first and foremost a businessman. As long as you were a paying customer, you got the exaggerated courtesy the asians were famous for. End up owing him and you had an implacable taskmaster. Nelson only dealt with Chang when he had cash. 

The little man was happy to let you use credit, in fact he preferred it. Too many young runners ended up being Chang's patsies. Even some experienced runners who'd had a string of bad luck found themselves trapped. It was the old company store syndrome executed with incredible subtleness. Borrow to buy the equipment you needed. Do the job Chang had for you. Simple.

Except somehow you never made enough from the job to pay off your debts. As you continued, you ended up sinking into a state that bordered on slavery. Taking jobs you would never have taken normally. Your freedom of action was gone. What's more, your freedom to refuse a job where the risk was too high was gone.

You reached a point of either getting killed or running. But few ran. Chang made excellent examples of those who tried. The stories were grisly and often almost unbelievable. But Nelson was sure the majority were true. What's more, those in thrall to Chang believed them like they were gospel.

A girl appeared next to Nelson's table. Oriental, in a real silk kimono. One of Chang's daughters? Nelson looked up into her eyes. Hard as flints. Had to be Chang's.

"Mr. Nelson?" she asked in a voice that would melt an old man's heart and send a young man's hormones racing.

"Yeah," Nelson replied.

"My father was wondering if you would like to join him in the private dining room?" 

"Thank you," Nelson said as he rose and followed the girl.

The dining room was sumptuous, decorated in the ancient style with silks and stylized lions. A long teak table was set and at it's head sat Chang. He and his five daughters wore traditional garb.

Nelson nodded to Chang and sat down to the meal. He wasn't hungry, but this was Chang's place. You never did business until after you had eaten. The meal seemed to last forever, with Chang and his daughters conversing in Chinese. Nelson spoke the language, but never responded or let on that he did, even when the conversation came to subtle and not so subtle barbs thrown at him. Nelson considered knowing the lingo an edge, and when you dealt with a man like Chang, any edge you could find was important.

When breakfast was over Chang invited Nelson into a comfortable study. Nelson sat and waited, it was impolite to speak first when you were the guest. Chang busied himself with some papers on the desk. After a minute or two he put the papers away and sat back.




Voices



"It is good to see you again, Nelson," he said at last.

"Likewise," Nelson drawled.

"It has been a long while. Are you in need of some credit? You know yours is always good here," Chang said, his voice carrying a note of almost hunger.

"Thank you," Nelson said, "But I think I can afford it"

Chang straightened himself in his chair. He was all business now.

"What can my humble home offer you?" he asked.

Nelson tossed a crumpled piece of paper on the desk. Chang snatched it up and scanned it. Nelson could almost see the wheels turning in the man's head. It was a fairly extensive list. The little man took out a calculator and began to speak into it. After a while he looked carefully at Nelson.

"Sixteen thousand. I can have it in three weeks."

"No good, I need it by tomorrow," Nelson replied. This was the part he hated. Haggling. It wasn't in his nature. And he always left feeling he had been screwed.

"Not possible. This is going to take a while. These items are rare and not exactly easy to acquire. I am sure you understand," Chang said with a false smile plastered on his face. 

"Enough of this friendly crap, Chang. What's it going to cost?" Nelson exploded

A very shrewd look passed over Chang's face. The eyes grew ratlike. His every action oozed greed.

"If you're in that kind of rush, I might be able to accommodate you. But it will cost you," he said in his reedy voice, the English badly accented.

"How much?" Nelson asked 

"Twenty-five thousand," he said. Before Nelson could protest, he added "Delivered. And I will throw in the ammunition for nothing, since you're such a dear friend."

Nelson placed the black attaché case on the table and scribbled a delivery address.

"Done," he said on his way out the door.

Monday, March 16th, 11:00 hours.

Nelson walked easily down the street. His movements had taken on the smooth fluidity that denoted a fighter. Two days back and he was beginning to resemble the man he had been. People moved out of his way and often looked down as he passed not wanting to make eye contact. Street punks were rampant here and they were all on edge. The regular denizens were often the targets of their angst. As a result they avoided anyone who had the look and Nelson certainly had it.

He looked again at the scrap of paper for the tenth time. He was lost. This part of Singapore wasn't called The Maze for nothing. He turned down a side street and saw what he was looking for. An ancient looking building with only a metal door. There were no windows. Three punks loitered near the door.

As Nelson approached, the punks pushed themselves off the wall and arrayed themselves across the sidewalk. Nelson had seen this before. He felt the old adrenaline rush. With the speed of a thought, he kicked up the mags on his eyes. Three punks. Too much weight for skin. Polyastic body plating? Yeah, that would account for the sheen of their skin. In the space of a step, he switched into infrared. Arms and legs were metal, no real heat, just artificially generated stuff. The next step he was back to regular sight. He kicked the mag up again, this time to high res. He looked at the eyes of the two behind the leader. The smaller one had NJK-2's, the larger NJK-5's. Cheap ass shit, Nelson thought as his next step carried him closer. He didn't bother with the leader's eyes. He had already decided he would kill him first.

Nelson smiled faintly. You could always tell by the eyes. It was an afterthought for street hoods. They wanted the muscles, the weapons, the chrome, they never thought of the eyes. Who had told him that? The Major, maybe. 

Little place in Indochina. That was the time Jones had bought it. He had been a street kid, like Nelson. Black eyes full of mirth and a constant smile on his face. To him, the army life was heaven. Before he had joined, he had never had a full belly or a dry place to sleep on a regular basis. He and Nelson had become fast friends.

Then he was dead. Nelson had started off to get drunk and had ended up AWOL. He didn't care any more. He drank and fought his way through the bars and clubs of the city. Each night brought him to lower and lower class establishments as his money dwindled. He had ended up in this place. A tiny bar with ceiling fans that did no more than stir the heat and keep the smells of rancid beer, urine and vomit hanging in the wet air.

Three toughs sat at a table eyeing him. He knew they would make a move eventually. He was too tempting a target. The weight of the .45 felt good in his shoulder holster. He was itching to use it.

The army had given up on finding him, but not the Major. As the toughs rose and started to advance, he was there. Nelson wasn't sure how or why. But he was there.

The toughs hesitated. Against one man they were sure of themselves. Against two they were not. And there was something about the Major that always made men think twice. But these three were not that smart. They decided to push it. Fanning out around the two men they prepared to make a rush. Nelson could feel the sweat oozing from his pores. His hand snaked inside his jacket. The cool steel of the pistol grip was comforting. The air was suddenly stifling. The leader moved and Nelson could still see it all. Like watching a movie in slow motion.

With a speed beyond belief the Major had attacked. The first of them was dead before his surprised eyes could register the blow that had expertly broken his neck. The Major's elbow had smashed into the second man's temple and he crumpled like a sack of wet cement. The third almost got a butterfly knife out before the Major broke his wrist. The man had no time to howl in pain before a wicked right smashed into his jaw. He, too, crumpled to the floor. In that space of time, Nelson had not even gotten his gun out of the holster.

The Major looked at him. Those eyes gave away less than a Saigon hooker on a Saturday night. Nelson looked at the three downed men. 

"How did you know which one to take first?" he slurred.

The Major lit a cigarette, that same thoughtful drag Nelson had seen on the day he pulled him out of that hell on earth deep in the jungle.

"The eyes," he said simply. "The most dangerous man is always the one with the best eyes."

Nelson took the last three steps and stopped within an arm's length of the leader. He was tall, with a blonde mohawk and several piercings on his face. He had the perpetual sneer of the bully. Hopped up to the point where no one ever challenged him. Nelson realized with mild surprise he was going to enjoy this.

Next would come the challenge. The arrogant sneer and derogatory comments. It was how they did things on the street. It was almost as stylized as the old rules of dueling. Nelson didn't give him the chance.

Nelson swung his fist at the leader's head. As he swung a small opening appeared between the bones of Nelson's wrist. The long depleted uranium spike slid into place with an audible click, the artificial sphincter of neoskin widening to allow its passage. The punk's eyes widened in the few microseconds of life he had. He had thought he was fast, but he knew well before the blow landed that he had decided to push the wrong man.

The depleted uranium spike struck him in the forehead. Polyastic body plating flexed then gave way. Subdermal padding, designed to absord shock, was no match for the spike and in an instant it was lodged deep in the punk's braincase.

Even as he withdrew his arm the spike was sliding back into its concealed place. A spinning kick sent the larger of the two gang members flying. With a motion as smooth as silk, the third found himself looking down the bore of one of the Martell model 9s, his 10mm Smith still mostly in the shoulder rig.

"I'd let it drop, friend," Nelson said conversationally.

The punk looked at his friends. One was dead, the other groaning on the sidewalk holding his abdomen. Seeing no help from that quarter, he gently released his hold on his own pistol. Nelson holstered the Martell in an instant.

"Now, you two can take the garbage with you and disappear or you can reach for your pieces," Nelson said easily. The challenge was there, hanging in the air. 

He stood there casually, his arms folded over his chest. He could read their thoughts. They wanted desperately to go for their guns, but they were not at all sure if they were fast enough. Nelson enjoyed it. Let them know how the people they abuse feel. Nelson knew they would walk. The balls of this crew were already gone, bleeding on the pavement. With spiteful looks the two hoods picked up their fallen leader and hustled him off down a side street.

Nelson watched them go, never evidencing more than casual interest. But he knew what would happen. Too many times he had seen it. His hands inched inside the black duster and hovered over the wood-grained butts of the Martells.

With a howl of rage, the two men pounded back out of the alley guns drawn. Life or death on the streets very often was a matter of mere seconds. When it came to a man like Nelson, maybe even fractions of seconds. As the two hoods came around the corner Nelson's hands flashed. A Martell appeared in each hand as if by magic. Each pistol sighed once. The larger of the two punks caught the titanium shard in his chest. His body was tossed back several feet to land in a heap on the dirty concrete. 

The smaller one took his in his mouth. Blood, brains and shards of teeth blasting out in an exit wound the size of a big man's fist. The body hung there for a moment. In slow motion, the 10mm fell from nerveless fingers to clatter on the sidewalk. Then the body collapsed to its knees, and fell over on its side. Nelson's guns were back in their holsters before the smaller man hit the ground. 

Nelson turned to survey the door, the dead hoods no more a thought in his mind than a fly he had swatted months ago. Life was cheap. And when you weren't the one that was dead or maimed, you simply counted it a victory and moved on. 

The door was an alloy and gleamed dully in the bright sunlight. No key pad or door knob. A single camera eye, like a baleful cyclops, stared down at Nelson from above the doorway. Nelson reached into the duster and removed a packet about the size of a cigarette pack. As he was pressing the powerful plastic explosive into the cracks around the door jam, the speaker under the sensor eye crackled to life.

"Jack Nelson, don't you dare!" a soft, rasping feminine voice exclaimed. The German accent was almost masked by the speaker. How many times had that voice whispered in his ear?

Her name was Carrie. She was the daughter of a high class L.A. call girl and a German businessman. By the time Jack met her, she was already a respected force on the L.A. matrix. Operating under the handle Ladyfire she had already come to the attention of several corporate security teams. She had also come to the attention of Spatz. Spatz had been Nelson's contact in L.A. for several years. He operated out of the back of a semi-legit bordello in the worst part of a bad city.

Spatz's specialty was organizing and recruiting black ops for shady clientele. Nelson's team had lost their deck rider on a soft probe of Myramax's L.A. subsidiary, Myroki. No one really knew what happened to him. Black ICE of some sort had left him a drooling vegetable.

Spatz needed Nelson to run a particularly dangerous extraction so he had introduced him, electronically of course, to Carrie. Ten maybe twenty jobs followed, with her riding the net to cover for his team. He never met her. She was always that disembodied voice, whispering in his ear.

When he finally did meet her face to face, it proved to be less than either had hoped. There was a mutual attraction, but they lived in different worlds. There had been a two month relationship with great sex and rotten arguments before he had left L.A. Three years later, she turned up in Singapore out of the blue. 

They saw each other a couple of times. Then she had disappeared for three months. When he saw her next she was standing at the door of Transcom Corp's downtown office in a smart business suit. Nelson was tempted to call or go see her, but it was the same story. They lived in separate worlds. Jack turned down any job offered against Transcom after that. His team thought it was out of foolish sentimentality, but it wasn't. It was out of respect. She was that good, and he had no intention of dying.

It had been a year or so after his retirement that Duffy showed up. He had given Nelson a data card and refused to stay. Kind of odd for Duffy, who loved to talk and loved to drink. Nelson had popped the card in. No picture, just a voice. She had been fired from Transcom. She gave an address where she could be reached. Nothing more.

Nelson had gone to sleep with the data card playing, his dreams filled with that soft rasping voice.

"Killing the hired help is one thing, blowing up my door is quite another," the voice rasped.

Nelson smiled to himself and removed the gummy plastic, retuning it to its container and making it disappear back into his duster. Same Carrie, hired hard men were a dime a dozen, but that door was expensive.

"Figured that would get your attention," he said.

A sound, perhaps laughter, issued from the speaker.

"You're still good. What can I do for you?" she asked. The tone a bit harder. 

"Biz," Jack said simply. The metal door slid open.

Monday, March 16th, 19:00 hours

O'Shea's was one of the oddities of Singapore's landscape. An authentic Irish pub, shipped over from Dublin brick by brick. They carried only Irish liquors. And the only beer you could get was Guinness, served at room temperature. The bar was crowed tonight. Irish nationals who worked in Singapore made up the majority of the crowd. A few Englishmen in business suits sat in one corner, looking for anything to remind them of home. Jack sat in a dark corner booth, his Jameson's untouched. This was the Irishman's favorite haunt. And the only place Nelson could remember where he might make contact with him. So far he hadn't appeared, but Nelson was unconcerned. It was still early.

By the time he appeared, the crowd was getting restive. Debates on politics and football were at the point of becoming brawls. Just the kind of crowd Irish would prefer. He came in from the darkness and for just a moment the room was still. Then fifty conversations resumed. Nelson noticed how the crowd parted around him as he moved towards the bar.

He downed a Guinness and was getting a second poured when he noticed Nelson. His body gave no indication of recognition, but his eyes did. With a slow step he walked back towards the men's room passing the booth. When he returned he slid in across from Nelson.

"Been a while, lad" he said in a deep baritone, the Irish brogue almost hidden now behind a hundred different accents.

Nelson remembered the first time he had heard that voice. It had been different then, the brogue so thick he could barely make out the words.

There had been a bar fight and Nelson had ended up embroiled in it. He had been fighting three rowdy Irishmen and had just knocked the last one to the floor when the huge man had called out to him across the bar.

Nelson's inability to understand had been taken as mockery by the big man and they had ended up fighting. For over an hour they had traded blows. Nelson's hopped up speed and stamina had helped him cope with the big man's incredible strength and quickness.

The fight ended by mutual agreement. The two had shared innumerable beers and after that night the Irishman had joined his team. 

Nelson looked at the big man carefully then nodded "Too long"

"So what's it this time?" 

"Black bag job," Nelson replied quietly.

"How many?" asked the Irishman.

"Three besides yourself. All hard men. And Duffy" 

"I have just the lads. Pay?" he inquired.

"Twenty-five each for the hard men, forty-five for yourself and ten for Duff," Nelson said, studying the Irishman again.

"Done. The usual place?"

"Yes," was Nelson's reply as he rose and left the bar.

Tuesday, March 17th, 19:00 hours

Night's covering blanket had descended on the city. Pimps, prostitutes, street punks and the rest of the denizens of the night were just beginning to emerge from the cheap rooms and flop houses that protected them from the sun's harsh rays.

On a lonely end of the Singapore waterfront, the lights were on in a small, dingy warehouse. The weak light was barely able to penetrate the few grimy windows. A dilapidated hurricane fence with razor wire ringing it surrounded the small building. An equally dilapidated sign announced that the warehouse belonged to J & N Enterprises. A competent decker could find out in no time that J & N was a company on paper only. A business with only this warehouse as an asset.

J & N was owned by one Johann Netxge. He was a Danish national whose address was also a matter of public record. Anyone going to Mr. Netxge's address would have found it to be a small one bedroom apartment in a very seedy part of the waterfront district. Inquires would reveal that Mr. Netxge traveled extensively and was rarely home. Anyone who could find further information on Mr. Netxge was a magician or a prophet.

Johann Netxge was none other than Jack Nelson. The entire creation of the man from false papers to his questionable business had been the final piece in Nelson's retirement plans. Fearing he would not make it on the outside he had rented the warehouse and room for five years. He had chartered the business license and hired a law firm to manage its tiny assets and pay its bills.

With this cover to return to if things had not turned out to be better on the outside, Jack Nelson had stormed out of Sharky's office that cold, rainy day, confident that he could return if that's what the cards held for him.

A beat-up truck, looking for all the world like it would fall apart pulled up to the deteriorating loading dock. Two men, both orientals, hopped out and furtively banged on the small door. After being let in, the large cargo door opened and the truck was hastily unloaded.

The two men returned to their truck and were gone as quickly as the wheezing old vehicle could carry them. Inside the building, the men watched them go with amused glances and cat calls.

"All right, let's get down to business," Nelson said as the cargo door was lowered into place and locked. All joking ceased. All eyes were on him. Each man intently watched him. Nelson felt the thrill that came with leading men. In a searing epiphany, he realized this was what he loved.

Nelson looked out at the team he had assembled on such short notice. The only one he was sure of was Irish. The man was indomitable. Always upbeat and with a happy-go-lucky demeanor that belied the superbly capable warrior inside him. Like the warrior poets of old, as quick with a quip as with a blade. The only difference being that today's blades were guns.

Dutch Reinhart was a tall blonde of Scandinavian extraction, with pale blues eyes, hidden behind an unruly shock of blonde hair. He was a runner. Usually with a team of his own. Very capable, if a bit belligerent, he had a series of hard luck runs that had cost him his team's confidence and his savings. When Irish had called him he had jumped at the chance to work. Irish told Nelson later that Dutch had been about a week away from going to Chang for work.

The Kid was new to the Biz. From his looks he was related to Irish somehow, but Nelson did not ask such indelicate questions. He trusted Irish to put a team together and he would go with those choices no questions asked.

Duffy was the jockey. He was a bit of an enigma to Nelson. An inveterate drunk, he was usually begging for a bottle somewhere. But jack him into any vehicle and he became a virtuoso. From choppers to cars, his chips made him meld instantly with any vehicle. It seemed he was only really alive when he was jacked into some vehicle. When not jacked in he always seemed to be incomplete.




Voices



They moved to the beat up furniture around the Celestial 3D Vidconferencing machine. As the men made themselves comfortable, opening beers and lighting cigarettes, Nelson keyed up the machine. Irish lit up a cigar as Nelson pulled down the holo screen.

"This is a black bag op with two objectives," he began. 

A grainy picture appeared on the screen. 

"Marcel Duvet. A Belgian national. Age unknown. He started his career as a hitter in the Belgian mob. Worked for them for several years, but he disappeared after he was implicated in a particularly nasty gangland hit. He resurfaced two years later in England. Did three contract killings. Probable employer, the IRA." 

Another grainy photo appeared.

"Next time he shows up it's in Zaire leading French backed mercs. This is where he acquired the moniker the Belgian. After the revolution failed, he dropped from sight again." 

Duvet again, this time in tiger striped camo and a maroon beret.

"Showed up in new Hong Kong five years ago with some military grade wetware and a sack full of cash. He took several contracts for various corporate employers until he hit the number two man at Syntech. He was forced to flee Hong Kong and worked for other sponsors around the world. He is wanted for hits in Rio, L.A., New York, Quebec, Germany, Switzerland and Genoa to name a few. Last year he showed up here in Singapore as a security adviser for Yamato."

"He's good. The man who took out Jensen and the Swede. He also has hunted down and reprimanded, read eliminated, two or three teams who have run against Yamato. He is also our primary target."

A second picture flashed on the screen, a pretty young girl. Black hair. Brown almond shaped eyes. 

"Her name is China Trasconte. Her father Marco is one of the foremost researchers into VR technology. The man is a genius. He left Syntech to work for Yamato three months ago and Syntech wants him back. Yamato has him under so many layers of security getting him would take an army. But they have his family in the Yamato compound downtown. We're gonna grab her, and give Syntech the leverage they need to get Marco to come home. The contract is specific, her mother and older sister are not, I repeat not to be harmed. Syntech feels they will work on the old man."

"If you gents will put on your goggles and jack in, our Ghostrider will walk you through the mission."

After they had all jacked in, a soft rasping voice said, "this is the set."

The VR panned to the Yamato building, then to a manhole some 500 meters distant. A red arrow indicated the manhole, "This is the EZ."

As it zoomed in it passed through the manhole and into a storm drain, it then ran down the drain with tic marks indicating 100's of feet. It stopped before a large round metallic hatch.

"First security door. Open and guarded during the day closed at night," she rasped into their collective ears. The VR passed through the door and down another tunnel until it came to a grille, this rose and they proceeded onwards. A platform with a control station appeared. 

A large outflow pipe was highlighted in red. 

"This is your way into the building. It's a sewage outflow valve. Once the flow is killed, the hatches at the top will be blown for you and you will be in the sub basement. From there you will have to play it by ear," she finished.

As the men took off their goggles Nelson said, "Irish, give 'em the weapons brief."

The big man stood up and approached the podium. 

"We will be using old faithful, the Smith and Wesson mark 89 assault rifles with Mk3 silencers," he began. 

Picking up one he grabbed a clip from the table.

"Mixed feed thirty round banana clips. Ball and armor piercing in a stagger set with a tracer when you're down to five in the clip. Remember to watch for the tracer if it comes to shooting your way out. With the silencers you won't hear it go dry." 

With this he turned the rifle on a target set up at the far end of the open warehouse. Irish opened up and let the clip run. The silent phhutting was almost inaudible. When the tracer went the gun was empty before it hit the target and burned out.

"They're good guns, lightweight, with good penetration and they're durable," he said chewing on his cigar. 

He placed the assault rifle on the table and picked up a large pistol.

"That's it for this one, except for your personal side arms. We have some Colt Commandos for anyone who didn't bring his own." 

With that, the big man killed his Guinness and put the cigar back in his mouth.

Nelson stood up and said, "Let's go to the sand table and we will walk through the extraction."

The sand table was a table top miniature. It was laid out to represent the Yamato compound. A second table was set up to show the insides of the building.

Nelson walked them through the part covered by the sim. A few questions were asked, but for the most part Carrie had done her part well. It was only after they were inside that the real questions began.

"Here we will part. Team A, that's you men, will go after the girl. I will go after the Belgian," Nelson said, moving the small figures on the interior of the model building.

"Why you alone?" Dutch said. "If he is that bad, why not take someone with you?"

Nelson looked at him. "The girl is the money part of the deal. Besides, another man would just give Duvet more targets."

"If the girl is the money, why go after Duvet?" 

"My reasons are my own, all you need to know it that it's necessary," Nelson said easily.

"It seems to me we are all in this together. Maybe you're making some extra for the Belgian and keeping it for yourself?"

"Maybe," Nelson said. His anger was rising.

"Well, maybe we should all talk about money again," Dutch said.

Before Nelson could speak the Irishman spoke up, "Dutch, I brought you into this. If you're gonna be an ass, you can walk. I can get another gun in no time."

Dutch looked at Irish, an angry retort on his lips, but it died there when he looked into the big man's eyes. The large man's face had a blank expression, but the eyes were intense. Dutch decided he wanted none of that.

Nelson let the silence stand for a few moments then said, "It's my op, Dutch. I make the decisions. If you can't live with it, you know where the door is."

"Forget it," Dutch said, "it's your op."

"Good enough," Nelson said.

"From the elevators you will progress to this room. Use the injectors to neutralize the rest of the family. Once you have the girl, Ghostrider will cover your egress. Once you start your E & E, you will retrace your steps. Remember, do not, I repeat do not harm any of her family. One of them gets hurt and we don't get paid.

Once you reach the sewer, you will wait for me. If I am not there in five minutes, you will follow the escape plan and meet Duffy in the panel van.

If I am not with you, directions to collect will be in the glove box."

He looked at Irish, "Simple code. Ghostrider can knock it out for you in a few minutes."

"Remember, non-deadly force unless you have to fight your way out. One last thing, save the last bullet for yourself. These guys are working on a new VR. The last thing you want is to spend the rest of your life as a plaything in someone else's twisted world," Nelson finished.

Wednesday, March 18, 23:00 hours

Yamato Enterprises, a small corporation based in Singapore. Yamato was one of several small companies that kept its head above water by creating cheap copies of other people's chips. They skirted the edge of legality, keeping an army of lawyers on staff to fight the endless series of patent and copyright violations. Yamato had its own R&D section, working on a VR that would be more addictive then anything seen before. This was Yamato's greatest hope of going from a small corporation to a megacorporation. No one knew how close they were to the breakthrough that would give them a chip that would command that kind of market share.

Yamato had state of the art security systems. All of the small corps engaged in "cheap chipping" did. Most of the bigger corporations did not have the patience to fight the long drawn out court battles that would put an end to it. 

More often than not they simply paid the money and sent a team in to wreak as much havoc as they could. Either jockeys armed with sophisticated site specific viruses, or hard teams to destroy production facilities. Occasionally even dispatching a team to eliminate a particularly successful lawyer or administrator.

The small corps accepted this as a price of doing business. Their systems were protected by the blackest ICE, and round the clock live jockeys whose decks were filled with programs even more lethal. The hard security teams were all loaded with military grade wetware. Most were lead by men who had made reputations for themselves breaking into corps. Some of the best independent infiltrators made their way to these corps for the steady pay and longer life expectancy. Nelson sat three hundred yards from the entrance to the storm drain his team would use as its ingress route. The Irishman, Dutch, and the Kid crouched behind him. All were wearing blacksuits, body armor and loaded down with equipment. Nelson took a deep drag on his cigarette, the faint glow briefly illuminating his face. A cold drizzle fell and black clouds obscured the moon. How many times had he sat like this? All of his own skills now totally useless. Wholly dependant on a person who was miles away with a data cord and a cyberdeck.

A flash of lightning cracked, illuminating the concrete canyons. His team was briefly visible, crouched in their places of concealment. A lone car drove slowly past the walls of the Yamato compound. A big black sedan. The sight of it took him back to his last op with Dev.

It was an extraction, of course. The Major was the best at that. A building not unlike the one before Nelson now. Different name, same thing. All concrete and glass, high security wall, and hardmen on patrol.

That voice in his ear, this time not over a radio. "Can you take him?" it asked quietly.

"Got him Maj...Dev," he replied. He was still not comfortable calling him anything but major. He wiped the sweat and water from his eye and returned to the scope of the Barrett 88. In his crosshairs, a guard behind security glass was checking in a big black sedan. Luxury car. Something that he would never even dream of owning. And the ride their target was using.

"Go" was all he heard from the Major. His finger took up the slack on the trigger. The big black rifle snorted and sent its 50 cal. armor piercing shell on its way. The guard had no chance. The safety glass shattered, like the surface of a still lake when a rock is thrown in. The guard's body was catapulted back into the pristine white wall and slid out of sight. A red smear on the wall the only way you would know he had been there.

Nelson had no time to survey the aftermath. This was not a military operation. Confirming the kill was not important. There was no snipers log, no spotting scope. And no gunship backup he reminded himself. Nelson swung the rifle to the hood of the big car and flipped the selector switch. When the cross hairs were centered over the block Nelson ripped off the rest of the clip. The fifteen shells fired off in less than two seconds. They ripped the semi-armored hood to shreds and riddled the block with holes. The driver had just tromped on the accelerator, but the big car only moved a few feet, stopping when it hit the barrier the guard had not had time to raise.

By then the Major and the rest of the crew were already around the car. Small charges blew the locks out of the door. He pulled the driver out and sent him to the pavement with a dose of sedative delivered from a high pressure injector. Martin dragged the target out and administered a dose to her the same way. Briggs pulled the bodyguard out of the other side and dispatched him the old fashioned way, 10mm shell through the temple.

By this time, Nelson had the Barrett broken down and in its case. The screech of rubber on concrete announced the arrival of their wheelman. Everyone piled into the car and they were rolling before the first alarm sounded within the compound.

Typical operation for the Major. Slick. Target secured with minimal collateral damage and no casualties to his team. It was the kind of thing Nelson aspired to be able to do.

Her voice crackled in his ear, "Beginning run."





Voices



The problem with that was every system designer knew it could be done. The main security node was protected by the strongest countermeasures that the company could lay hands on. And usually a decker would be there, jacked in from inside the building. Just waiting for any intruder to defeat the ICE.

Carrie measured her chances. Her intrusion software was top notch. Her screening only a bit less. But her combat systems were woefully weak for that kind of maneuver. She couldn't just dump a decker in the main building. He would manually key the alarms as soon as he was out. Those were hardwired. Nothing she could do to stop that. Not even if she had already mastered the security system.

She looked at the Soulscramble icon glowing a baleful blue on her active icons list. Could she do that? 





Voices



Nelson dived into the pipe. His head hit hard and he saw more stars than any night sky. He slid down the pipe like last week's dirty laundry to land in a jumble at the bottom of the pipe. Strong hands hauled him to his feet. He was in a fog, his legs moved like lead. Someone was half hauling, half dragging him along.

"Move, lad!" a voice yelled in his ear. It seemed to come from far away. Mustering the last of his strength Nelson tried to keep up. His trip out of the bottom of Yamato was one long bad dream. Red hot pain. Abstract images. The heavy grille falling. Dutch blowing it with plastique. The outer door wide open. Smoke pouring from the control panel. The long march through the water. His arm, hanging like the mariner's albatross. The fresh air from the open manhole. A million stars. Duffy at the wheel. Then darkness.

Two Weeks Later: Nelson sat on his bed and lit his tenth cigarette. His shoulder was wrapped in bandages as the neomuscles and bone were not healed yet. The docs said he would be faster and stronger than before. Nelson didn't doubt it.

Two packets sat on the bed next to him. The first was red and contained the information he had promised Jolly. Not all that Jolly would want, but the name of the group who had hired the Belgian. 

The second was wrapped in brown paper and addressed to a man in Cairo. Nelson wondered idly what long devious route it would take before it reached the Major. Nelson smiled to himself as he crushed out his cigarette.

Now that he had access to the information stored in the Belgian's NAC he understood his friend's quandary. The Major had gotten word that some wannabe gods calling themselves Reality-9 had put out a contract on his lady. He had immediately acted to make himself disappear, and her along with him. Then he finds out they have hired the Belgian to do the job.

Being a direct action guy, his first idea is to kill the Belgian before he could start looking for them. The problem is, to get to the Belgian, he would have to leave the girl unprotected, or even worse take her with him to where the Belgian was. Quite a pickle, even for someone as slick as the Major. It was just the luck of the draw that Nelson was in Singapore and so was the Belgian.

Nelson grabbed the red package and started for the door even before the buzzer rang. He opened it and smiled as the same skycap was there. He handed her the package and tossed her twenty Hong Kong dollars. She looked at him with wide eyes and quickly pocketed the money and disappeared. Nelson had learned a long time ago to be nice to the little people. They saw more and knew more than some of the best information guys, and were a hell of a lot cheaper and less risky. Never hurt to have friends in low places.

The second package went via secure courier. An Olympus man arrived a few minutes after the girl departed. Nelson signed the scanner but didn't tip this man, there was no use in it. Olympus employees were useless for information.

Nelson sat back down. He concentrated and felt the instant reaction of the NAC. Wearing another man's wetware was not exactly to his liking, but the Belgian's NAC had been his own bonus to himself. They were too expensive and getting a clean one was nearly impossible. All too often corps put little friendly reminders in them to keep the owners in line. And no one wanted to have a sudden burning sensation as the damn thing overloaded on command and boiled your brains out.

This one was clean, or the Belgian wouldn't have had it. Nelson had never dreamed of owning one, but after the fixer had removed all the information from it, Nelson had decided to give it a try. The skillsofts would let him tailor his knowledge to fit a job, and the memory access would end his having to search through his mind for pertinent information during a run.

The screen buzzed on the wall. "Answer," he said as he lit a cigarette. Nelson knew who it would be. He knew he was back. He smiled as the screen lit with a familiar face.

"Hello, Jolly."



Voices Carry



Amber was in a bad mood. She'd assumed her first Spring Break would be filled with excitement, adventure, really wild times and loads of hot, wild sex with attractive people. But instead, it had been nothing but fending off doughy, drunken frat-boys, buying over-priced food and over-priced drinks while staying at an over-priced hotel, and dealing with shallow girls who seemed perfectly happy to shake their boobs for the 'Girls Gone Wild' camera crews that Amber, personally, had threatened to sue, mace, and have arrested, not necessarily in that order. She hadn't met anyone she wanted to sleep with the whole time she was there, she was stuck in an airport in Detroit for two hours waiting for her connecting flight, and her MP3 player had died twenty minutes ago and she was too broke to even buy batteries. So she sat there in the departure lounge, idly working a half-finished sudoku book she'd found on the seat next to her and wishing for something...more. She didn't know what "more" entailed, but after the last week, she knew exactly what it didn't mean.

The couple who sat down next to her looked happy, at least. They were a little too "public display", perhaps, but then again, the guy wasn't half-bad looking in a geeky way...neither was the girl, for that matter. Not that Amber had ever...well, she'd thought about it, but she'd never acted on it. She'd thought that maybe during Spring Break...but she'd thought a lot of things about Spring Break, and they'd all turned out to be busts.

"I'm so glad this worked out, Thea," the guy said. Amber didn't mean to overhear, of course, but she hadn't bothered to take off her headphones, so they probably thought she couldn't hear them over the music. They didn't realize that she could hear them just fine from here, and it wasn't like it mattered. Average couple, average discussion, average day. Which was better than hers. She realized she'd filled in a '1' twice in the same column, and turned the page angrily. "I know we won't have long, but it's just so nice to see you in person."

"I know," Thea said, leaning in and giving him a big hug. "I was just so glad to have a layover here, even if it was just for a few hours. It's been too long, James, and I've missed you a lot...down." Amber looked up from the sudoku for a moment, puzzled. Down? Down where? But all she saw was the guy, James, hugging her with his eyes closed and a big smile on his face. The sort of thing you saw all the time in airports, people saying hello or good-bye. "That's right," Thea said, "just keep sinking down, deeper and deeper, every moment going further into trance..."

Trance? What was going on here? Amber remembered some of the utterly lame entertainments in Daytona Beach, the stage hypnotist who managed to make the frat-boys act like idiots on stage. Big achievement, she'd thought at the time. She hadn't believed anything was happening other than drunken jerks losing their inhibitions due to the environment. But watching James, the way he just sagged into this girl like his muscles had turned to water, the blissed-out smile on his face...

Amber realized she was staring a little, and looked back down at her sudoku book, suddenly feeling like she'd interrupted something intimate. Luckily, Thea was facing away from her, and James...well, he didn't look like he was noticing much at all. "And in a moment, James," Thea continued, "you're going to be able to sit up, and just go into an eyes-open trance. You know you can do that, you've done it so many times before. You'll just sit there, letting your eyes focus on anything you want, staying deep in trance and listening to my voice. The other people around us will think that we're just another couple, just being friendly, but you'll know you're my deeply hypnotized tranceslut, and that's going to feel so good...sit up now, James."

Amber couldn't stop herself from stealing little glances, now. This was some...wow, this was some seriously weird shit. She'd be telling her friends about this. James was just looking straight ahead, his eyes glassy and unfocused, and Thea was leaning up against him, just sort of looking cuddly and happy, but Amber could hear every word she was saying. "It feels so good, obeying, doesn't it, James?" James just sort of nodded. Amber wondered if he could even talk when he was like this. "Yes, because you know you're deeply hypnotized now, deeply obedient, and you're obeying so well, you're such a good boy. My good boy."

"...Your good boy..." Amber shivered just a little to hear the way he said that. It was a sort of vacant monotone, like you heard people do in cheesy horror movies when they'd been 'hypnotized', but he put so much sincerity into it, and there was this undertone in his voice, this feel like...like he was happy. Like he was happier than he'd ever been in his life. Amber couldn't see from this angle, but she'd bet he had a serious woody.

"That's right, so good, and obedience is pleasure..." Thea's voice was throaty and purring. Amber imagined that it would have those frat-boys doing whatever she wanted. "And you just feel so nice, sitting here, drifting into trance, sinking down, held firmly in my voice, sleeping in my will, it feels so relaxing..." Amber could actually hear James breathe, now, deep, soft, sighing breaths that made it sound like just inhaling and exhaling was the happiest experience in his life. She kept her eyes firmly focused on the sudoku book, not daring to look up at them for fear that they'd somehow realize she could hear them. Because she didn't want them to stop. She wanted to keep listening.

"And every time you hear my voice, James, you know that everything I say makes so much sense to you." This was the hottest thing Amber had ever imagined...no, this was something Amber had never imagined. She just kept staring at the center square of the sudoku puzzle, the blank space in the middle, trying not to betray how turned on she was getting listening to this kinky shit going on in the middle of a public place, and nobody knew it but her, and Thea, and James... "Everything my voice says, you know it feels so good, you know you must do as my voice commands. My voice commands you to sink into a deep trance, and you know you must obey." Amber just kept focusing on the blank square, kept listening, and she was amazed to notice that her breathing somehow perfectly synched up with James' slow, easy breaths. It was almost like magic.

"Sinking, and floating, deeply hypnotized, and it feels...so...good." Amber nodded, just slightly. It did feel good. Her whole world had narrowed down to that empty, white space, and Thea's voice next to her. "Listening to my voice, knowing how happy it makes you to listen and obey, listen and obey..." There was more, but Amber stopped noticing exactly what the words were. She just sat there, listening and letting them flow by, breathing softly and feeling happy. She felt like she could sit like this forever, listening to Thea speak, letting her words and suggestions sink in, sinking deeper...something about that word, 'deeper', just seemed so profound, so wonderful. Amber liked 'deeper'. Amber wanted to go deeper. Amber was going deeper, and deeper, and...deeper... "And wake."

Amber started slightly in her chair. Oh, God, she'd actually been going under hypnosis! She rubbed her eyes, suddenly conscious of the bright red blush in her cheeks. Please, let these two not have noticed. Please, please, please... Thea still had her back turned to Amber, probably never even noticed she was there, but James looked over in her direction, saying, "Ooh...it's been too long." She was sure that any second, he'd see how embarrassed she was, and tell Thea that...

But he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at Thea, and Thea was speaking again. "Oh, and now you've looked into my eyes, James. You know what happens when you look into my eyes, you know that my eyes catch you, and hold you, and send you spiraling deeply into trance again." OK, this wasn't so bad, Amber wasn't going to get caught in anyone's eyes any time soon, not so long as she was looking down. She wouldn't sink down like before.

"It's like the old sonnets, Shakespeare talked about it, the eyes snaring you, capturing you and wrapping you in my spell, and you can't resist them. My eyes are so powerful, they send you into deep, deep hypnosis when you look into them." Amber was suddenly very glad she couldn't see Thea's eyes. "And wake." Amber watched out of the corner of her eye as James gave a little blush of his own, and kissed Thea.

This was...Amber wasn't sure if it was incredible, or scary. The power Thea had over this guy was amazing, intense, unbelievably sexy, but Amber felt like she was just being drawn right along. She wasn't sure if she wanted that. But when the thought occurred to her that she could just get up, walk away, head to the bathroom or go get a drink of water, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Something in her wanted to see and hear every second of this, even if it meant...meant what? That she was putting herself in some stranger's "power"? It sounded kind of silly when you thought about it. This was just a chance encounter, an overheard conversation. It couldn't do anything but relax her, maybe get her a little damp. No harm, no foul.

"Did you know you had an off-switch, James?" Thea's voice was suddenly flirty, a little mischievous. Not the same throaty purr, but still sexy.

"No, I--"

"I just press here," and Amber saw Thea press firmly at the base of James' neck, "and hold..." Amber imagined that finger pressing the same spot on her neck, almost felt it, and this time, she decided to welcome the sensations. "...and you switch off." She'd never imagined herself as a voyeur, but this didn't feel like voyeurism. She felt like she was a part of this, as her eyes closed and she let herself just listen to Thea's voice, just like James was. She understood why he surrendered himself to Thea's power so readily, it really did feel so good...Amber was aware that Thea was saying the same thing she was thinking, and she felt an almost child-like sense of wonder that Thea seemed to be reading her thoughts. Thea realized that Amber was thinking that obedience was pleasure, somehow she knew Amber was thinking that she was sinking into deeper hypnosis, and it was amazing. It made Amber want to sink deeper and become more obedient. So she did. It was alright. Thea had given her permission.

Amber heard James saying, "i'm deeply hypnotized now," and she mouthed the words herself. Thea was telling her that she was deeply hypnotized now, after all, and everything Thea's voice said made so much sense. She let herself sink deeper into those words, that voice, that dreamy soft trance. "i'm deeply hypnotized now," James said, and this time, Amber found herself whispering the words right along with him. She knew that when he said it again, she'd say it out loud, loud enough to turn Thea's head and make her notice Amber's presence, and she wanted that now, wanted it so much...

"And wake." Amber's eyes opened, and it took all her self-control not to yelp as she realized what she'd been about to do. Bad enough that she was eavesdropping on what was obviously a very private conversation, but she was about to essentially walk up to two total strangers and say, 'Hi, interested in a threesome?' Not a good plan on so many levels.

Thea stood up. "Sorry, honey, but it's almost time for me to board. I know this wasn't nearly long enough. But you'll be visiting in a few months, and..."

"It's OK," James said, standing up himself and giving Thea a hug. Amber tried harder than ever to pretend that she was invisible. "I love you."

"Love you too, sweetie," Thea said, giving James one last kiss and heading over to the security line. Amber watched her leave, watched James watching her leave, watched James leave, then looked down at her own watch and realized she had to move her butt NOW if she didn't want to miss her flight. She grabbed her bag, shoved her headphones into it, and headed for the security checkpoint...then she saw Thea, waiting in line. She suddenly didn't want to be standing right next to Thea, not without James there to distract her. It wasn't that Amber was afraid of being ensnared or anything. Thea had never even noticed she was there! She wouldn't just look at Amber with those hypnotic eyes, snare her and catch her and send her into deep, obedient trance...

Amber headed down to the other security checkpoint.

Which turned out to be a blessing in disguise--the line moved quickly, and Amber made it to the gate with plenty of time. She presented her boarding pass, found her window seat, stowed her luggage, and prepared for the boring flight back to Minneapolis. No headphones, and she'd even left the stupid sudoku book behind.

Just then, a slightly out-of-breath woman sat down next to her, blocking her off from the aisle. Amber looked up and gasped. It was Thea.

"Sorry," Thea said, totally oblivious to Amber's reaction. "Didn't mean to startle you, I just barely made the flight." She looked over at Amber. "Oh, hey! I saw you in the lobby! Weird coincidence, huh?"

"I, um..." Amber looked down, looked away, looked anywhere but at...the second she thought it, her eyes flicked up to Thea's. The second they settled, they locked. The second they locked, she felt herself start to drift away. Thea's eyes had caught her. They were holding her. She was spiraling into trance.

And Thea was absolutely astonished to find a total stranger sagging forwards into her arms, already beginning to whisper, "i am deeply hypnotized now...i am deeply hypnotized now...i am deeply hypnotized now..."

But not too astonished to act on it.

THE END 



Voices Carry



"-and all that week, all I could think about was these damned blood tests. Blood tests, blood tests, blood tests. Meanwhile, I'm so sick that I'm debating every day as to whether or not I should even go into work while I'm stressing about the results. So finally, the results are in and I'm at the Doctor's office, and before my butt even hits the chair, Maher goes, "You've got Diabetes." And I'm like, "What the hell?" and the next thing I know I've got a prescription for Metformin three times a day, I gotta go to a Diabetes awareness class and I got Mum, Darla and Owen all over me about it- The Doctor's all over me about it –like I don't already know about Diabetes for god's sake, and now I have to get one of those blood sugar meters and... Eddy, are you even listening to me?"

Edward R Roth was in fact not listening because he'd heard all about it twice before. In the nine years Ed had known Valerie, he'd become an expert at not listening, especially when it came to 'the health report', as he'd come to call it. The woman could go on forever.

The two had been living common law for the last ten years and he'd already decided that he'd never marry her, was even pretty sure he'd be gone before an eleventh could pass in their depressing basement apartment. At age thirty-nine, Ed could see forty coming fast and perspective on his own life had been changing at almost the same pace.

They sat across from one another in a booth at a small diner off the side of a rural Quebec secondary highway. Ed was quite relieved to see the tall, lit sign appear from the snowy cloud of blizzard conditions almost forty-five minutes earlier. It had been getting rapidly darker and his tension level dropped markedly as he managed to back the Daytona into a parking position that would require the least trouble in getting out again, whenever that would be and under whatever conditions. From the looks of the snowbound vehicles in the small parking area, mostly big old four wheel drives, they wouldn't be the only ones stranded at the diner. While between the car and the front door, he couldn't read the name of the establishment because of the snow stuck to the sign, figuring it was no loss since it was surely done in French, making it impossible for him to read or pronounce it in any case. In many ways, from an Anglophone's perspective, Ed found Quebec to be a different country whether the province was separated from the rest of Canada or not.

However, after they'd ordered and ate, had their coffee refilled by the rude waitress to settle in for however long it would take for the plow to come by, Ed soon began to see what an ordeal this would be once she started talking to pass the time. He'd often feel like a bastard for wanting to beg her to just please shut up when she did this, but the fact was that he couldn't imagine a way to care any less about the things she normally talked about. This isn't to say that the art of conversation was altogether lost to them at this point in their relationship, but more a statement of how they'd simply run out of things to talk about. It happened in the last few years while they were drifting apart without either of them noticing at first. Ed now often wondered if she was as sick of him as he was of her, at least during her sessions of constant prattle, the idea that sometimes a nice silence between two people is a good thing never having occurred to her. Tuning her out had become a lot easier and less stressing than silently begging God for someone to come along and shoot him in the head.

At the moment, however, he wasn't tuning her out in favour of thoughts about the things that normally mattered to him, rather watching an American family of five sitting in another booth across the dining room. He could tell they were American by their accents and how they obviously weren't aware of how Anglophones were viewed in some areas of Quebec. If they were, they'd also be aware that the ten or twelve or more locals at the dining counter, who acted as though they didn't understand English, understood it perfectly well.

"They don't realize..." Ed toned.

Irritated, the somewhat attractive, slightly overweight thirty-seven year old brunette looked around at where her common law husband's gaze was directed.

"-and I don't know what kind of cockamamie excuse for a country has people who can't speak American running around this day in age, but somebody better teach them because they can't make change!" Allan Conway charged a bit too loud. "If I wasn't the type to check my change, I'd have been ripped off the last two god-damned times we stopped to get gas, and ya know what? Ya know what? I think it was on purpose!"

Cheryl Conway, Allan's attractive, dirty blonde wife, regarded him from across the table with speculation and said, "Dear, I hardly think they'd stay in business if they were ripping people off. It was probably just a misunderstanding because of the language gap."

Cheryl, in fact one of the more attractive women in her book club, actually didn't notice any problem with the quaint Canadians she'd dealt with to that point. They all seemed very friendly, especially the men and especially the ones who couldn't speak English. In her dark purple, short sleeved pullover, white sweater over her shoulders and buttoned at her neck and a pleated gray skirt that went just past her knees, she assumed they were simply unused to women of American standards.

Even her husband was an extension of these standards which weren't just American, but personal. At forty-seven, three years her senior, he stood tall with a solid build at five foot, eleven inches. His features were almost ruggedly handsome and the iron gray that had begun to take over his hair in no way diminished the man he presented.

Nineteen year old Calvin, sitting to her right, took strongly after his father in appearance, lacked the blustery attitude, but understood the politics of standards as did his mother. Jeans and a bowling shirt were his usual attire and that evening was no different as he once again looked around the eating establishment and the other patrons with his nose wrinkled in light disdain. Unlike his mother, he didn't find the natives, as he'd been referring to them, to be especially friendly. However, both his sisters would have sided with Cheryl on that.

Jill, sitting on Cheryl's left and beside the aisle, was an eighteen year old confirmed habitual texter of things so important to young women her age, such as where her many friends were currently located and with who. She looked like her mother with slightly darker hair, the same height and soft curves except without the breast augmentation that Cheryl had had done in order that the swell of her chest could perfectly match her slightly rounded hips, if not a little more so. Her youngest daughter was currently looking bored stiff in the 'no service' zone they were travelling through, slumping in a black skirt that her mother considered a bit too short even in the summer, and a lightweight pink sweater.

The oldest of the three siblings was Deb at age twenty. Still living at home because of the horrible economy, she was the only one of Cheryl's children who'd gone at all astray, refusing college in favour of just getting out there and to hell with more classrooms. Darker hair fell down her shoulders than her sister's and, like Calvin, she took after her father in facial features, her grandmother on his side in the body. Her breasts were slightly bigger than her mother's large C-cups with the proportioned hips and the height of five foot nine to go with them. She sat beside her father on the inside, as unprepared for the subzero Quebec climate as the rest of her Floridian family was, in a pair of tight fitting, black pants that she knew made her ass look great and were also fit for her part time job at the local TV station. Her white blouse was buttoned up respectably, not because her mother preferred it, but because Deb didn't feel she had to show all that much skin to appear desirable. She was right.

Allan, the owner of Conway Outfitters, a chain of no less than three locations selling the latest and greatest hunting and camping equipment, knew better than to be mollified by his wife's doubts about the way the French did business.

"It's in the eyes, Cheryl. I've been doing business most my all life and I know a shyster by the look in his eyes. Every very time I open my mouth in this God forsaken, third world, arctic wasteland of the inbred, all I get is that look."

"Heh. Inbred," Calvin smirked.

"Those guys at the counter look like they live in the woods," Jill lazily remarked after a glance over her shoulder.

"Maybe, Deb spoke up, "that's just the way people are around here."

"Debbie," her father replied, "Where would you rather live? Here, or in Florida?"

" ... Well... in Florida, but-"

"I rest my case."

Deb rolled her eyes and looked across the dining room at a couple in their mid to late thirties. They were the only other people in the place aside from the rough locals and, as she looked, the pretty brunette in blue jeans and red sweater spoke to her friend, a regular looking guy with dark hair, jeans and gray flannel shirt. A look of irritation lay over her features and he looked sharply at her, a similar look in his, but more careful. He looked like he was going along to get along.

"Is it too much to ask that your attention be on me for once?" Valerie indignantly demanded.

Ed's lips compressed in frustration as he regarded her, but it seemed like there was wasn't any honest answer he could give that wouldn't clearly say that it was too much to ask of him. Her medium brown eyes filled with affront as he remained silent, only shaking his head and rolling his eyes in reply.

"Yeah. That's just... (sigh) Do you even care about me?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't be with you now."

"That's what you always say, but it's come to the point where it doesn't mean much. Now it's almost like an insult."

"Val, would you just please not do this? I was distracted by what's going on over there, that's all," Ed told her in a voice lower than hers. "Why do you always have to make these negative assumptions that I don't care just because I get distracted or whatever?"

"Because you're always distracted. Haven't you noticed how I've been asking you lately what I'd just said when we talk?" You can never tell me, can you? Not once could you tell me. You never listen to me and you don't even seem to want to be with me anymore, so I'm asking... Do you love me?"

"Valerie..."

It suddenly seemed as though their relationship might not last the night and, in the space of a second, Ed imagined what the rest of their car trip would be like in that event, not to mention how things would go once they finally did reach her mother's house. Would he be expected to drive her back? Would he have to rent a motel room for a week while she stayed at her mother's place until then?

"Valerie, I'm sorry you take this as an insult, but it's true: If I didn't love you, I wouldn't be here. I know we've had our problems, especially in the last few years, but that doesn't mean I don't care and that I don't love you. You've got to stop assuming my feelings for you."

"I have to assume your feelings for me because you never talk to me," she almost plead.

Ed heaved a small, exasperated sigh and glanced across the room at the family from south of the border. One of them, a pretty young woman with dark hair, was observing them. She turned at his glance.

At first, Jill didn't understand the reference her mother had made to 'Grizzly Adams' in relation to the locals present, but she laughed once her mother told her a little about the show that was before her time.

"One of 'em could be the bear," Allan joked, looking around the table at his family with a grin, receiving one in return from each of them except Deb.

"Must get cold and lonely up in these woods," Calvin sniggered. "A big, warm, furry bear probably comes in handy on a night like this."

"Oh, gross, Calvin!" Jill laughed.

"Only if the bear speaks French," Cheryl added.

The four of them broke into uncontrollable laughter at this, even Deb finding it hard not to laugh a bit at her mother's punch line.

"-because I'm sorry, Eddy, but if you want to be with someone else, than go. I'm not going to spend my life with someone who doesn't love me."

"See, again you're not listening," Ed testily replied. "I'm trying to tell you that I do love you, but no matter how many times I tell you that, it's like I never said it even once."

"That's because I don't believe you. And I don't think you really believe it either."

"Well, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means just what I said. You don't love me. You're used to me."

"That's part of loving someone," he argued, knowing this to be true and suddenly wondering if he didn't love her after all, as opposed to her accusation and his own beliefs on the matter.

"Yes, but not the only part. Of course you get used to someone, that's where the security and trust in a long term relationship comes from, but there's a difference between getting used to someone that close in your life and taking them for granted."

Rolling his eyes again, he retorted, "Okay, great. I don't care about you, I don't love you and now I take you for granted. I might as well just shut up here and now because everything positive that I try to say just gets twisted and-"

"It's not about saying positive things anymore, Eddy. It's about saying where we stand with each other. For real."

Ed closed his eyes. The worst of it was that she was right. In most everything she'd said she was right and, for the gazillionth time, he wondered why he was even still with her, why it was that he couldn't just leave her and find someone else who could... whatever. Make him happy? Was he being a coward, stringing her along for the sense of security that he valued as much as his freedom to try again with someone else? Someone he was at least interested in listening to?

"Val, I... I understand what you're telling me. It's just... We don't seem to be going anywhere and, before I know it, I'll be..."

" ... Do you remember when we started?" she took over. "It wasn't like this then. We had our fights, but it was really about struggling to make ends meet more than it was about us. Hm. We even had sex back then. What happened to us?"

It seemed she'd asked the question as a personal demand of him, her accusing tone implying that he of all people should know as the one obviously responsible for whatever it was that had happened to them. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words that he'd planned were cancelled by his passing glance at the line of burly locals at the counter.

They'd been pretty quiet over there, but the expressions on their faces, especially the pretty blonde waitress behind the counter, belied a group of very unimpressed people.

"I, uhh. I gotta use the can. I'll be right back."

Valerie sighed expressively and sat back, shaking her head. She loved him, but she wouldn't stay with him if he didn't share those feelings for her. He made it so hard to know if that were the case and wondered why she hadn't left him long before then. She watched him on his way to the washroom, remembering the first time she'd seen him, the tall, thin, able bodied man with the nice broad shoulders and tanned skin, hairy chest.

On his way by, Ed approached the booth occupied by the Conway family and stopped beside the end of the upholstered bench Allan was sitting at. Leaning over the head of the family's shoulder, he smiled casually and imparted a few things in a low, cautionary tone.

"FYI: The only thing that people around here hate worse than an Anglophone from Ontario, like me, is an Anglophone from the States. Like you. You should also know that they understand and speak English as well as you and I. It's just a little game they like to play. You don't want to play it with them, friend."

Allan twisted around and watched the younger man's retreating back as he walked the rest of the way down the aisle and into the door marked with a universally understood washroom icon. He turned to face his family afterwards with a sour expression.

"Well, that son of a bitch has got some nerve!"

"What'd he say?" Cheryl asked curiously, looking away from the bathroom door and at her husband.

"Did he speak in French, Dad?" Calvin wanted to know.

"No, he spoke in perfect American and he told us that we're hated in this piss-ant country! Because we're American!"

"Dad, that's not what he said," Deb tried while looking nervously toward the long counter.

"We saved these peoples asses in both the first and second world wars and we get hated for it!? My father was in the war and mister, I'll tell you-!"

"Dad," Deb tried again, "That was the British. The Canadians actually helped us-"

"Deb, I love you, but you don't know what you're talking about. I-"

"But Dad, he said they understand English."

"Wh- what?" Cheryl asked, sitting upright, wide eyed and looking first at her daughter, then at Allan. "Did he say that? Is that what he said?"

Calvin laughed out loud and said, "So what if they do? It's only-"

"Oh no," Deb squeaked, grabbing her father's forearm as she anxiously looked over the heads of her mother and two siblings. "Daaad..."

He'd already taken note of how the local inbred of the God forsaken, third world arctic wasteland had vacated their stools and were entering the dining room, one of them going outside for whatever reason. His attitude automatically began to adjust as he watched the rough group of men, perhaps fifteen of them at a glance, as they approached. It wasn't any less comforting to note that not all their eyes were on him.

Calvin turned to look over his shoulder and did a double take, his eyes widening like his mother's at the motley collection approaching. He saw large work boots, jack shirts, dirty work coats, battered caps with industrial logos and chainsaw safety pants. They were all spattered with woodchips here and there, half of them with thick beards and mustaches, the other half with four or five day beards.

Jill began to get scared when some of them stopped at the end of the booth's entrance, wishing she had Calvin's seat as she looked up at the men standing there. More piled into the booth behind her father as she felt another group take the one behind her, their dark, sweaty, woodsy smell surrounding her. She looked fearfully at her mother as Deb looked fearfully at her father, neither of the girls willing to look behind them anymore than Calvin or their parents.

Cheryl glanced nervously at Jill, unconsciously pulling her sweater closer about her, then to her husband as he looked uncertainly up at the man beside him.

One of the tall Sasquatches looked down on him in return. He smiled, the thick, gray mustache and beard parting to speak with a moderate French accent, but in perfect English.

"Hello. My name is Grizzly Adams. I'm pleased to meet you."

His friends all laughed quietly about this as Allan very nervously laughed along, half believing that these guys might get serious.

"Uhh, yeah, I hope you know that, uhhh... well, that was just a little... little joke. (ahem)"

"I- I apologize if that upset or offended anyone," Cheryl offered as she looked nervously from one of the burly foresters to another, none of whom looked to have any standards at all, American or otherwise. At least the speaker, who now turned to address her, seemed to be reasonable in a recognizably human fashion.

"That's very good of you to apologize, but our feelings are already hurt."




Voices Carry



"Maybe dey just need to get to know us bedder?" another pondered with a tricky smile.

From behind Deb, someone snickered something in French, the man's breath hot on the back of her neck as the one who'd left a minute ago returned. Her heart sped up all the faster to see that he was carrying a handful of bungees. One of his friends, a rough, angular faced man, laughed and gestured to the one returning, commenting on something in French to the amusement of the others, including the bungee bearer.

Across the dining room, Valerie couldn't help but notice the attention the other inhabited booth had suddenly attracted and was watching with interest and concern, more concern when she saw someone walk in with a handful of bungee cords. He crawled into the booth behind the head of the family and was just settling in when Ed emerged from the washroom. Unable to miss the Human conglomeration, he stopped up, the door to the alcove that served both the men's and ladies' rooms slapping somewhat noisily shut behind him. While the local spokesman went on, about half of his friends looked up at Ed, their second most hated form of Anglophone. He turned away, directing his eyes to the floor and woodenly moved back to the booth where Valerie waited.

"There's something going on!" she whispered as a few of the locals continued to stare over at them.

"No shit, that's what I was trying to say earlier." He toned.

"Well, what happened? What did you say to him to cause this?"

"Cause-!? If you hadn't been prattling on, you'd know! That ignorant buffoon over there just got himself into a lot of trouble and I tried to warn him!"

" ... Prattling on? Is that what I do, Eddy? Do I prattle on?"

"Oh my god, somebody shoot me..." Ed moaned with his eyes closed, face suddenly in the palms of his hands before looking up to try putting it simply. "Val, honey... now's not the fuckin' time, okay? Okay?"

She grudgingly accepted this, but the look she deposited in his face informed in no uncertain terms that his words wouldn't be forgotten.

"The important thing," he went on in the same low tone as those who'd been staring returned their attention to the Conways, "is that we're in a bit of a situation here and-"

"How are we in a situation? And you still haven't told me what was going on. What was he doing to be so ignorant?"

Ed only ground his teeth subtly as he paused to gather a quick explanation that might answer any questions of clarification or misunderstanding that she often had.

"He and his family were making fun of them, saying offensive stuff about them 'cause they didn't know they understand English, so now-"

"Wait... they understand English?"

" ... Yes, Val. They understand English. I just heard one of them speaking English as well as you and I do. Now they're understandably pissed about some of their jokes and that's what they're over there talking about."

"Well, how does that mean we're in a situation? We didn't do anything."

"Because we're Anglophone, they're Francophone. They don't like us around here. These guys in particular probably worship the late and almighty Rene Levesque at church every god damned Sunday. Being from Ontario, we're a tolerated enemy at best, so just mind your own business."

"Why don't we just leave?" she asked, stealing a glance in the direction of the crowd.

"Uh, hello? Did you see the condition of the roads? I got the best snow and ice tires money can buy, studded all around, and we barely got through it to get here. Now it's dark. If we didn't go off the road, we'd get stuck and probably buried so the car could get creamed by the plow when it eventually comes by."

Well, we can't stay here!"

"There's nowhere else. We wouldn't last long out there, you know. We have to wait for the plow."

"We could call the cops."

"They'd never get out here and it would probably take forever even if the road conditions were good."

" ... But, they wouldn't hurt them?" Valerie asked, glancing at the situation again, then back to Ed. "Would they?"

"-and I can't tell you gentlemen how sorry I am," Allan Conway genuinely assured Monsieur Adams while darting his eyes around at the others, one of whom was pushing into the booth opposite him, crowding Jill into her mother, her into her son.

Jill looked up fearfully at the large, rough shaven man that grinned down on her. He said something in French and put his arm around her shoulders.

"Uh, hey now, guys..." Allan tried to politely interject as he saw the alarmed expression on Jill's face. "Heh, like I said, we were just kidding around and-"

"We're just kidding, too," said a thicker accented voice from behind him and to his left.

Allan jerked his head in that direction to see one of the barbarians stroking the hair at the nape of Deb's neck. She looked scared and rightfully so, her eyes wide as she watched Jill.

"Please, we- ump," Cheryl attempted as she tried to keep from being shoved right into her son's lap. "We didn't mean anything by what we said. I'm sure you're all very good people, respected in your community and we honestly never doubted that for a-ah- ohh!"

One of the men behind her solved the space issue by grabbing her under her upper arms and easily hauling her up and out of the booth. Calvin looked up to see her suddenly sitting on the top of the backrest and being supported from behind by two men as her jittery legs were pressed between he and his sister.

"Hey, now, that's enough of-" Allan finally had to assert, standing to do so before Grizzly Adams forced him back to an abrupt seating position with a large hand on his shoulder.

This effectively cutting off his words, the Frenchman slid into the bench next to him, pressing Deb against the wall. She didn't mind the mild discomfort of the new seating arrangement so much as the large set of fingers massaging up the back of her neck to the top of her head, upsetting the careless arrangement she'd had so that it fell to just beyond her shoulders.

"You shut up now or we bungee you," advised a different, deep voice from directly behind Allan.

"Oh my god, this is getting serious," Valerie hissed, looking at Ed.

"Stop staring," he hissed back, "don't attract their-"

"Eddy, something's gonna happen here!" she finally deduced, turning again to stare.

"I know that." he growled back in a low tone. "Now would you please stop gawking over there like that!?"

Blessedly turning her alarmed expression to face him, she needlessly reported, "They've got the mother!"

"I know that, just stop looking!"

"Well, how will I know what's going on?"

"What's going on? This isn't CSI, you idiot, this is real life and it's in the fucking room!"

"Well, I think I know it's not CSI, jackass! I just want to know what's going on! I can't see like you can unless I look to the side!"

"Oh, for fuck sakes, I'll tell you, I'll tell you! Is that good enough!?"

"Oh thanks! Thanks so much! Ya know what? Never mind, I don't want you telling me anything!"

"Val!" he tried as she blatantly looked over her shoulder.

"Look guys, I- I have money," Allan desperately bargained. "American Dollars, huh? Heh. Just leave the women alone, alright?"

"That would leave you and your son," Adams casually pointed out.

"Wh- what do you mean?" Allan dared to ask as he watched Cheryl being hauled back slightly further by a powerful hand and forearm around her middle.

She frightfully mewled her protests and struggled against her restraint, but not in a way that would possibly anger her captors until one of them grabbed her head and fastened his mouth on hers, rudely and shockingly deep kissing her. She squealed and pushed at him, but to no avail as her feet jerkily kicked in reaction.

"I'm just saying that maybe you and your son can take their place if that's better for you."

"Still bedder den a bear, uh?" one of them joked from behind Calvin.

The young man that Allan had targeted as his heir apparent wasn't very comfortable with that idea as his jaw dropped, his eyes taking in the grinning faces looking at him.

"But I offered you money! I've got cash and a credit card that we could take to the nearest ATM once the plow..."

Adams was shaking his head, still smiling, his hand still covering Allan's shoulder. Allan looked at him, then shifted his attention to Jill and her shell shocked expression as her new booth buddy's hand rubbed her shoulder and pulled her snugly against him.

"Uhh, okay, look," he hopelessly tried, knowing at this point that he could only offer up what he'd brought, including himself and his family. "I run a small chain of stores, I sell outdoor equipment. Good stuff, fellas, the best you can buy in America. I can see you guys are the type who could really appreciate the latest in outdoor footwear, right? I got stuff I can send you free, the latest hi... hi tech..." he trailed off.

He could tell they weren't interested by the way Cheryl was unhurriedly pulled from their booth entirely and to a sitting position on the table of the one behind her. She struggled uselessly, screaming into another mouth that had fastened to hers as an unseen hand grabbed her inner thigh for a feel.

Calvin didn't even notice this, his attention riveted to the hand that had been caressing and stroking Deb's neck and shoulder, currently finding its way to the top of her heaving chest. Her eyes were closed and she moaned in anguish, astonished at the goose pimples that ran down her left side, humiliatingly erecting her nipples.

"Please, guys..." Allan resorted. "I was wrong, I'm an asshole and I'll get down on my knees and beg if I have to, but please leave us alone!"

"Why don't you just sit and watch?" the friendly Frenchman suggested. "You're starting to get on my nerves."

"We've got to do something!" Val hissed, having diverted her gawking to make this assertion.

"Like what?" Ed questioned with a laugh.

"We have to... do something!"

"There's nothing we can do. There's fourteen of them, didn't you count?"

"Well, think of something! You're supposed to be the man!"

"Oh no, don't you dare start that shit! I'm staying right here with my head down and so are you! I'd like to walk outta this place-"

"Stop and think about what you're saying, beanbag! You think they're gonna let us leave after seeing this? You think they believe we aren't noticing anything?"

"Val, I'm telling you, there noth-"

"We have to do something! If only because those poor people are in trouble! Come on, stop being a coward for once in your life and say something!"

"You're the one who wanted to run and leave them, you stupid, unthinking bitch!" he angrily hissed, beginning to lose it with her even under these circumstances.

"I was going to call the cops, and don't tell me you wouldn't have scurried your ass out of here sooner if you could have, you-!"

"Val, god-dammit, stop arguing with me about what-!"

"Are you going to do something!? Yes, or no!?"

"No! I fuckin tried to warn them, I did my bit for the stars and stri-!"

"Well, I'm going to put a stop to it!"

"What!?"

"You think I'm some stupid senseless bitch who doesn't know what she's doing!" Valerie hissed with a sneer. "I know, don't try to deny it!"

"Val, for god's sake, don't be stupid!"

" ... Oh, that's good."

"Valerie, honey, just this once, will you please listen to me and forget about my fuckin' feelings and your fuckin' feelings and all the rest of the shit!" he plead, trying to resist the urge to take her neck in his hands and simply choke her to death just then. "I'm telling you that I can't help you if they decide to- Valerie!"

"Go fuck yourself, Eddy." she vehemently bade, her voice at a normal tone and volume as she avoided his grab for her arm and slid out of the booth.

"Now you ave a little French in you, uh?" the dirty, smelly man leered at Cheryl with a chuckle after he'd removed his tongue from her mouth.

"(ptupp!) Uhh-hh! Please, noooo!" she whined as he grabbed one of her breasts through her pullover and squeezed appreciatively.

Calvin was distracted from watching Deb's blouse being slowly unbuttoned by his mother's plea. He came to his knees on the upholstered bench, finally looking into the booth behind him at what was happening with his mother. He was about to tell them to stop, and damned the consequences, when he saw Jill being pulled into the lap of the man who sat beside her.

The youngest Conway was jostled to her knees, each one straddling the man's thighs on the seat as she faced her father, wide-eyed and leaning slightly forward. She jerked and moaned a little as his strong hands moved under her skirt to massage the outsides of her spread thighs, then her hips as her skirt hiked.

"Daa-ad?" Deb implored in a small voice as the button in front of her navel was patiently undone as the ones above it were.

Allan forced himself to look, wanting so badly to help but unable. Even if there were only three of them, he wouldn't have had a chance and he knew it. As he watched, two large, work worn hands opened her blouse from over her shoulder, slowly peeling the garment back to show off her sexy, white lace bra, so stark and crisp against her tanned skin. His jaw dropped, trying to think of a way to stop this as a vague part of him noted his daughter's very inviting breasts in their vulnerable restraint, heaving in front of her quickened lungs.

"Hey, don't- stop it!" Jill tried as the rear of her skirt was pushed up to the small of her back to the sounds of appreciation from the rough men.

Allan Conway knew what would happen next as his wife was brought to her knees on the other table, a man now standing on its surface in front of her and in the middle of unhitching his trousers. He knew that there was nothing he could do about it and so he sat, trying to contain his anger and humiliation, his fear while suddenly remembering the one who'd tried to warn him. He raged at himself for a split second until he realized that the useless bastard's warning was too late anyway.

'What in hell was he waiting for?' A part of Allan ranted as he helplessly watched his younger daughter squirm, raising herself with a sudden look of shock. 'What could possibly have been so important in his miserable, stinking little life to let him go on as long as he did before he could be bothered to-?'

"Hey!" a female voice uncertainly called. "(ahem) uh, hey, that's enough! That's against the law, what you're doing!"

The action paused while everybody stopped and looked at the reason Ed was distracted from warning Allan earlier. Valerie had stopped in front of them and, in the uncomfortable silence, she didn't know quite what to say next as the eyes of the Frenchmen began to roam over her body.

At least their hands, Allan noted, had stopped moving all over the females of his family, but their accosters only smiled at the attractive woman as they undressed her with their eyes.

"I-I understand that they might have said some pretty rotten things, but this is going way too far. Now, please just let them go and we'll call i- hey! Hey!"

One of them grabbed her by the collar and jerked her forward. Someone else also grabbed her collar and both of them began pulling in a different direction as she helplessly tried to stop her light sweater from being torn apart and down her body. Someone else grabbed her ass as the men laughed, her sweater being destructively removed as though she'd never said a word.

"He-ey, nooo! Stop it! Please don't!"

She screamed as her light green bra was grabbed at, her impressive sized breasts jerking as one of the cups was seized and tugged at while another hand yanked at its strap from behind her. They cheered and laughed when the delicate thing was torn apart and away, but this moment enabled her to separate from them before they could grab her again. She ran, making high, desperately frightened sounds, breasts bouncing and swinging, back to her and Ed's booth.

Cheryl, along with everyone else in the diner, had stopped up to watch this one woman step in, foolishly as it may have been, to put a stop to what was going on. The same small hope the rest of her family had died with the unidentified woman's sweater and bra. The dark brunette ran back to her booth with a couple of the large men following at a walk while the rest of them brought their attention back to the Conways.

From her position, she could easily see her husband's strained expression and Jill's bared ass below her. The hands of the man whose lap she was straddling were all over it, often moving in and out between her spread thighs as she squirmed. The man had what looked like a huge erection in his pants and Cheryl noted that if Jill wasn't careful, she could very well end up getting fucked like that.

Calvin watched the woman with the nice big boobies, even bigger than Deb's, run and hide behind the man who'd been sitting. Now he stood with a fatalistic expression on his face as two of the huge Frenchmen approached him. Deb distracted him with a breathy gasp and he looked to find his sister's bra bound tits being freely groped and massaged while she held her eyes shut tight.

He was next distracted by a startled cry from his mother and, when he turned to look, he saw a huge, hard penis that glistened with sweat being rubbed all over her face. Knees spread and somewhat far behind her as she struggled to pull away, he held her by the hair at the back of her head as she used one hand to brace herself on the tabletop, the other on the man's naked thigh.

After this sight, and by the time Calvin got an eyeful of Jill's crotch being groped through her pink cotton bikini panties, he realized to his dismay that he had one hell of an erection.

Jill twitched as the man's pressing fingers passed over her opening again, rubbing her clit and drawing back to caress over her asshole and then her cheeks as his other hand took it's turn between her legs. She tried not to look at her father as she squealed and moaned, writhing uncontrollably to her molestation, even when those fingers strayed inside the crotch of her panties to rub her moistening pussy directly. Instead, her eyes rested on the couple at the other booth, now drawn in on her family's unexpected nightmare.

Edward Roth eyed the two large woodcutters who approached him with the grins of those who know they'll get their way regardless. He could have killed Valerie for getting him into this, but at the same time suspected that she was right in that it probably would've come down to this anyway. Still, he figured as they stopped within two feet of him, the silly bitch should have listened for once.

Being honest, "(ahem) look, uh guys... I told her to mind her own fuckin' business, but you know how they are, right? Yeah, well I know I can't stop you, but I can't just let you. So, I'm asking you."

They looked at each other and conversed in French for a moment, quickly coming to an agreement while the hungry grins they'd brought with them remained. They both smiled politely just before one of them grabbed him, literally lifting Ed right off his feet so that all he could do was to hang on to the huge wrists that swiftly carried him in the direction of the Conway family's booth.

While Valerie was being carried back by the other woodcutter, Ed struggled franticly against the quick, rough, but ultimately non violent restraint against him. Another cooperated in tying him to the tabletop across the aisle from the Conways with bungees that tolerated some resistance, but not escape.

"Der, dat is good enough for you, uh?" one of them said in a thick accent, giving Ed's chest a playful, but heavy slap before he turned to rejoin the festivities, leaving Ed out of breath and helpless to watch it all.




Voices Carry



Also helplessly watching, Allan made a strained, angry sound in his throat, prompting a slightly firmer squeeze on the shoulder by Grizzly Adams. His wife's lips were just then being forcefully parted by the huge prick, the head disappearing inside her appalled mouth as another man pushed her skirt up to the top of her ass. He exposed the back and sides her lacey blue, high cut panties for the viewing pleasure of those attending, but that wasn't all.

She'd always preferred, having the standards Cheryl did, Garters to keep her stockings up, but never lied to herself about how sexy they also made her feel. This night, she was wearing a wide, hip hugging, white lace belt that had matching straps running down inside her panties to her white stockings, and there was no doubt of how the crowd felt about her standards as the hot, sweaty cock was forced deeper into her groaning, helpless mouth.

Topless and in a panic after her knight in shining armour's dismal failure, Valerie was shoved into the booth behind Allan, on the tabletop and face up as her arms were held, breasts touched, then manhandled. Hands grabbed at her crotch through her jeans as her legs were held still from kicking out and it wasn't long before they began fumbling at the top button as she twisted and moaned.

Deb, her blouse now pushed off her shoulders and gathered at her elbows and waist, watched as the thin, flimsy cups of her bra bulged with the man's hands down inside them. They grabbed her firm melons, squeezing appreciatively while one of her itchy, painfully erect nipples snapped up between two fingers. She blushed with humiliation when she saw Calvin watching drop jawed. He had a hardon.

Noticing her stunned glance as he knelt at the end of his bench, Calvin hastily turned, as flushed as Deb was, to see what was happening with his other sister. The crotch of Jill's pink panties were now being held aside and for the first time in his life, Calvin saw his little sister's flower, watched as the man holding her in his lap licked his finger and began rubbing around it.

Allan watched Jill's face, his daughter now leaning more than halfway across the table on her elbows, trying to squirm away from the unauthorized finger that rubbed her hole, pressing every now and then. She now looked right at him from just over a foot away as the man whose lap she was sitting in went on doing what Allan could only imagine from his visual perspective.

"Huu- uhh. Uuuuhh! Nnnnggggg," she ground, holding the corner of her lower lip in her teeth.

He had to look away, even though she continued staring gape mouthed in some kind of sexual shock. Her expression made him feel he was the one doing filthy things to her, but the scene beside him was no more comforting.

Deb's firm, round breasts had been hauled mostly out of her bra, thick nipples astoundingly erect for all to see as she watched them being handled, a part of her listening to the defiant sounds of their would be savior struggling uselessly behind her. Presently, the fondling hands withdrew, almost sensually caressing up her chest to her shoulders where they took a firm, but almost massaging grip, easing her forward in her seat. The reason for this became clear as a heavy boot appeared at the outside of each of her thighs and, with those strong hands under her arms, she found herself being lifted up out of her seat and placed on the cleared tabletop.

For the first time, she saw the anonymous admirer of her young body, a man who, underneath the thick beard and dirty Husqvarna winter skullcap, looked to be in his mid to late thirties and possibly attractive.

Monsieur Adams said something to him in French and the galoot smiled, replying in the same language with an agreeable demeanor as Deb sat on one thigh, knees bent with her heels behind her slightly rounded ass. Adams said something else, laughed and reached across Allan, excusing himself as though he were reaching for the sugar. The sleeves of her white blouse hanging from them, she held her forearms across her breasts as she begged in a small voice when Adam's hand took her ankle, tugging her leg out straight as the other took her arms away from her chest and guided her bare back to the table.

Her legs were spread as he began sucking at her nipples and somebody grabbed her crotch through her smart, black pants. A small moan of helpless fear escaped her throat as a regretful groan full of impotent anger escaped her father's at seeing his daughter laid out to be used in front of him. Most regretfully of all, watching Mr. Adams softly pinch Deb's crotch between thumb and fingers was turning him on and he took his eyes away, disbelieving of the stirrings in his underwear.

It wasn't any easier watching Jill's sweater being pulled off to reveal her simple, but oh so sexy little pink bra, so he ignored the hands that immediately covered her B-cups as she gasped to whatever the man whose lap she straddled was doing to her. Instead he looked to his wife, but found no help there.

Cheryl's mouth was stuffed full of cock, her eyes bulging, standards sorely tested. The crotch of her panties was being held to the side so two men, one with no pants on, could explore her pussy and ass with their unapologetic fingers. The trouser challenged man pressed his finger at her anus while the other played with her clit. Her thighs reflexively trembled, the muscles there wanting to jerk her knees closer together as her protests took the form of lewd choking and slurping sounds. The big hand at the back of her head held her fast as the man's swelled organ seemed to thrum and actually get bigger just before the his sperm began squirting down her throat over and over. She was helpless to stop it, her fluttering hands, one on the tabletop, the other still on the powerful thigh in front of her, demonstrated this just before she began choking. A portion of the man's juice and her saliva leaked from the corners of her mouth, a good deal more as he pulled himself out while, at the same time, she and Calvin's eyes made contact.

Calvin wasn't sure of what he'd just seen until the Frenchman's dick was removed from his mother's mouth. Breathing hard, she coughed and choked, her mouth still wide open as she let a mouthful of cum drain out, a totally shocked expression on her face that he was watching this.

"Ohh-h, Calvin! No, don't look! Do-! Ohhhhh!" she finished with a groan as one of the men behind started pushing a fat middle finger up her pussy. "Oh, gawd! Oh, gawd, noooo! Uhhh-aahh!? Uhh- mmmmbp!"

Another cock had found its way into his mother's open mouth and began fucking it while she squealed to this and the removal of her skirt. Calvin, in spite of his mother's wishes, looked on because the hardon in his pants now demanded it. The crazy, forbidden thought that she looked good sucking cock lurked around the back of his mind.

Valerie's boots were being pulled off, her pants already halfway down her thighs so that two of the three men on her could teasingly play with her light green panties, tugging here and there before their hands became more daring, rubbing her lips and clit through the light satin. The third man, finished with her footwear, began hauling her pants the rest of the way off as the other two removed her panties. Thirty seconds later, she was naked with a thick finger pressing at her pussy as someone chuckled something in French amidst her franticly pleading, useless resistance.

Deb's breasts were now the playthings of her admirer, her bra pushed halfway down to her navel as she squirmed under his lips and tongue. The button at the top of her pants was undone and the zipper beneath it opened up a moment later. She lifted her head, whining a desperate plea as she watched her office-wear being spread open and pulled down a bit, her father also watching as though mesmerized by the glaring white front of her low riding, white lace, hot-panties. They both observed in almost disbelieving fascination as a big hand went down her pants, groping and prodding with fingers that drew moisture to her pussy and small gasps from her mouth.

Her view of this and her father was cut off when her admirer, now without pants, his shirt unbuttoned, straddled her upper body on his knees. He grabbed her breasts and poked his long, stiff penis up between them, a generous amount of precum lubing the soft, warm tunnel it pushed through. Around a disturbing attraction to her abuser's strong, fit body, Deb's mind grappled with the sight of his cockhead appearing from between her breasts and pressing against her chin.

Jill squirmed desperately in the smelly man's lap, trying to get away from the warm, hard member that he'd freed from his pants. However, he was also in the middle of pulling her bra down right in front of her own father. She gasped when one cup was turned down, about to cover her erecting nipple when his pole somehow found its way inside her panties. Her bra was unclasped and off it came, tossed in her red faced father's lap with a chuckle.

Allan's eyes widened at Jill's bare chest as his daughter was pulled backward, her back touching the man's chest as she squealed and squirmed to whatever was going on under her skirt. He found out a few seconds later when she lifted the front of it and looked down as though she had no better idea of what was going on down there than he as they both observed the long, thick lump pushing its way up inside the front of her pink panties. Allan got even harder at the open mouthed, awestruck expression of disbelief on Jill's face as the head cleared the waistband and lay against her lower stomach.

Calvin didn't notice this, or Deb's pants being removed. His own hardon ached as he unthinkingly fixated on his mother. Without being able to see exactly what they were doing at that angle, he still couldn't tear his eyes away from the men who were playing between her raunchily spread legs from behind and the way those garter straps traced her hips and thighs to the strained tops of her sheer stockings.

Cheryl was partially aware of her son's attention, but her mind didn't have time to think about it. She knew very well what they were doing between her legs and it was making her groan around the cock-meat in her mouth. She currently had two fingers inside her vagina while another was working its way up her ass and she wondered how long it would be before those fingers were replaced with big, hard, sweaty cocks that would drive ever so deeper, filling her like no finger ever could.

These thoughts were wiped away when the man who was fucking her face shoved himself in as far as he could before his penis throbbed, then seemed to explode in her mouth. She couldn't help but swallow some as the man just kept spurting, her pelvis jerking to the filthy attention it was receiving.

"Gmmp! Ummp, (gulp) gphlk! (gulp) Mmmmph! (choke) Mmmb?! (gulp)"

Calvin, his attention now diverted from the lower half of his mother's body, watched in utterly mindless, sexual shock as she took another load of hot cum in her mouth. Like before, his seed and her saliva seeped from between her lips and the cock they were wrapped around, down her chin and the front of her pullover. The man finally pulled out of her mouth and, again, mother and son's eyes met.

Calvin found it hard to read her expression. She seemed to be in a daze, her eyes slightly vacant, jaw slack with jism running out of it. She jerked in reaction to something happening between her legs and he now found himself undeniably curious as to what they were doing back there. Then, to his totally dismayed pleasure, a fresh man stepped up on the table in front of Cheryl, taking her by the hair at the back of her head to jerk himself off in her face. Long, thick strings of cum lashed her fine features, her head jerking in the man's grip with each one as he defiled her forehead, nose and cheek.

"Uh... uh... Oh, oh-! uh-h!" was all Cheryl could say about this as Calvin continued to stare throughout this excitingly wrong procedure.

A sudden hand rubbing his now completely hard prick made Allan jump. It was the waitress, looking down at him with a horny sneer. She looked at Monsieur Adams next and said something in French, gesturing to Deb with her head and they both laughed. Then one of the Frenchmen said something else, gesturing to Calvin and there was more laughter.

Calvin didn't notice any of this because, as Allan saw, his attention was on Cheryl and the stiff penis that was poking and nosing around the lips of her wet snatch while another man fingered her ass to the knuckle. This information, while losing no importance in Allan's mind, was shoved to the backburner when the not unattractive blonde began opening his pants. He tried to stop her, but the unofficial spokesperson for their collective abusers rested his hand on the back of his neck and squeezed a little, just enough to make things uncomfortable, and the woman had her way.

To his complete humiliation, she took his hardened length right out of his pants and began stroking it as he watched. The worst part was that it felt so mind numbingly good and, with the live porn show in front of him, he knew he wouldn't last long, even though the lead characters in this show were his own family.

Valerie beheld the grinning, naked man with dread as he crawled up her body. Others held her down as his cockhead touched her vaginal lips and pushed forward.

"Uhhgg! Nooooo! (gasp!) Uhh-h! A-! Ahhhh-hh!?"

She strained helplessly as the ridge of his head passed her entrance, burrowing deeper inside her canal until she was full. With her legs held spread, her back arched against him in natural reaction as she howled to the ceiling, sincerely wishing she'd listened to Ed.

He began pumping her, dragging himself out and then pushing himself unstoppably inside again until their pelvises ground together. She yelped and howled, railing against his invasion, but he only began pumping her faster and harder.

Ed, meanwhile, could see most of what was going on with the Conway family and all of what was going on with his common-law idiot. This attitude seemed to produce a very surprising reaction to the sight of her being raped and it was the chief reason for why his penis was rapidly growing in his pants. He never would have thought he'd enjoy seeing something like that happen to her, but there it was, and it wasn't as though he could do anything about it. He'd already tried.

Deb whined in twisting desperation when her legs were raised in the air and her smart work slacks were pulled away from her hips. When they, along with her footwear were gone, she felt her panties being half ripped away as the big, hard cock kept thrusting in and out of her cleavage. The ruined undergarment now rested enticingly halfway down her left thigh, the other leg hole torn at the waistband. Her legs were spread, private parts fully and completely bared and she wondered if her father was looking. This thought was interrupted by her groaning admirer as he forcefully shot his load against her chin and neck. The last shots stopped in her cleavage and upper chest and he carefully got off, still moaning.

When he did, Deb's sister saw the fresh, sticky mess on her older sibling's bare chest. Deb lay there for a moment before she was hauled down so that her ass was hanging just over the edge of the table, her jism smeared breasts right in front of her father as though they were a meal he'd ordered. It took his attention from what was happening in Jill's panties as the waitress jerked him with an evil grin.

Looking down again, Jill could see precum smeared on her lower belly and the dark stains of it on the front of her panties. He humped and undulated against her slowly, seeming to enjoy her squirming attempts at resistance as it rubbed her clit. Still holding her skirt up, she watched as the head again emerged from under the waistband, the hole at the tip like an eye winking at her. A hard cock appeared in front of her, ejaculating all over her breasts as a particularly grizzled man started slapping Deb's bared pussy with his hard meat.

"Ohhhhhh-hh!" Jill moaned at the copious amount of jism running down her chest.

Cheryl grunted as someone's erection penetrated her, driving right to her cervix and making itself known in no uncertain terms when it got there by performing a few figure eights.

"Ohhh-h, god! Awwww! Ohh-h-! Ohhh!"

A moment later, another cock was shoved into her mouth and down her throat, cutting off most of her reaction to a man other than Allan fucking her. Rolling her eyes to the left, she saw Calvin still watching, but that situation came to end when the man who'd been fingering her ass reached into the Conway's booth and grabbed him by the shirt, slowly hauling him towards the booth his mother now occupied. He struggled as his shirt was torn half open, but his arms were restrained and he was unable to stop them.

Cheryl wasn't as disturbed as she'd think she'd be when a heavily bearded man from Valerie's new booth stepped into theirs and began undoing the front of Calvin's pants. The same way he watched her violation with helpless, forbidden interest, she in turn watched as his pants were pulled down, noting the dark, wet spot where his cockhead lay against his light blue briefs. He resisted as best he could, a small, strained cry coming from his throat as he was hauled a little further into her booth. She watched his excited package jostle in his underwear as the man behind her got into a solid rhythm, felt the tingling of a future orgasm when the bearded man tore the crotch of Calvin's underwear in half, allowing her son's hard cock and balls to flop out in front of her.

What Cheryl couldn't see was what Allan was watching in horror as he got closer and closer to ejaculation, thanks to his evil, Quebecois waitress. Somebody'd straddled Calvin's face and was pushing their stiff, slickened cock into his very unwilling mouth. His shirt was torn the rest of the way open as his pants were pulled the rest of the way off, his body being pulled a little further into the next booth. His briefs had been yanked up his stomach and his erect cock jerked and bobbed until the bearded man grabbed it, playing with the head and making Calvin's hips jerk in reaction. Allan groaned in louder frustration as Calvin was slowly pulled the rest of the way into the next booth, the bearded man following him there to join a small knot of large men who blotted the squirming young man from his father's sight.

Deb cried out, distracting Allan from the regrettable fate of his heir apparent and to her accoster as he ground his hard, vein covered rod against her clit. He couldn't help but notice her trimmed, black bush and almost came when the blonde waitress suddenly stopped, giving him a playful slap on the cheek before she left him.

Ed was still watching Valerie's rape and getting off on it more and more when his rude waitress climbed up on the table and held herself over him on her hands and knees.

"You know what you Anglos do that really pisses me off?" she sneered in lightly accented English.

Ed's only reply was a slack jaw and a stunned blink, however, she didn't seem to require any reply as she went on to tell him anyway.

"You always pick the booth that's farthest from the counter. I have to walk all the god damned way down there after being on my feet for hours," she breathed with a slightly twisted smile. "And I swear to god, you all do it on purpose."

Ed looked away uncomfortably on account of the fact that he had done it on purpose. For him, it was a vengeful practice when travelling through these parts, but he had no idea this practice was widespread among Anglophones.

Again without waiting for reply, she started tearing his shirt off with an almost maniacal laugh. Ed knew the French were sometimes different in funny little ways, but he had to doubt this one's sanity. She hauled his pants and underwear down to his knees and raised her skirt to show she wasn't wearing underwear, her shaved twat glistening with moisture as she lowered it to Ed's hardness. Reaching behind her, she leered down at him as she positioned the head of his prick to her lips, trapping it there and slowly settling down around him, her eyes lighting up as Ed's did until he was buried inside her to the hilt.




Voices Carry



"Nooo! Ohh, fuuuck! Oh-h!" Valerie cried as her body began appreciating the sound fucking that Ed had neglected giving her for so long.

The man above her panted, energetically fucking her as he licked and sloppily kissed the side of her neck. She could feel her body responding, her mind finding a sliver of positive interest in what was happening despite herself. Her forceful partner cried out loud a few times as he shuddered, blasting the inside of her pussy with shot after shot of hot seamen. She wailed in regret and astounded satisfaction until someone shoved their cock into her mouth.

At the same time, Allan was helplessly watching the sharply pronounced ridge of a cockhead that was just then being pushed into Deb's pussy. He stopped his hand halfway to his aching hardon as he watched the thing work its way just inside his squealing daughter, but kept watching as the phallus worked its way further in, drawing out a little, and then working its way in a little further yet.

Deb's squeals became a long wail as he pushed himself slowly further and further inside her. Allan looked at her erected nipples, the cum pooled in the hollow of her throat and the look on her face as she caught his stare. Suddenly red faced, he broke eye contact and looked up at Jill for a bit of a shock.

His youngest daughter's legs were spread and she still held her skirt up, higher now as she looked down at her twisted, wet panties. The crotch was rolled and pulled to one side, allowing a clear view if the man's engorged prick plowing between her spread lips. She still squirmed, but not in any apparent struggle against him as he reached around and began playing with her clitoris.

"(gasp) uhh... ohhh. Ohhh," she expressed.

Then, as her father watched, she hesitantly touched the cockhead that rudely breached her panties, fingering its wet tip for a moment before feeling around its ridges. He pushed into her hand and began fucking the grip she seemed to take naturally while her hand slipped further down the shaft, pushing the front of her defeated undergarment down under it.

Just then, Allan noticed his wife. She was taking quite a pounding from behind and her muffled moans had turned to grunts as she now actually sucked the cock in her mouth. The fornicator began breathing harder, groaning and rolling his head on his neck until he pulled out. Taking her face from his friend's meat, he turned her half around and shot a sticky blast of cum to the side of her face. He then splattered her nose and upper lip before he could get his cockhead into her mouth. At the same time, someone else stepped up behind her and unceremoniously took his turn at her slit.

Cheryl was at once glad and regretful that the pounding of her pussy had stopped before she could orgasm but, surprisingly, she found she didn't mind them ejaculating on her face so much anymore. She didn't even really mind when they did it in her mouth and complied in a somewhat docile manner when the cock she'd been almost enjoying was shoved back in there and the pounding from behind began again.

Calvin didn't see things in quite the same way as his mother when the rather large dick that was currently filling his mouth erupted. Like her though, he choked and swallowed while somebody was giving him a fantastic hand job. His mind railed that it was most likely a man who was responsible for said hand job, but the sensations that countered the masculine nightmare of that near certainty were intense enough to bring him to the point of orgasm, then hold him there.

The sensations were driving him wild and he choked again before the cock was pulled from his mouth, the last shot splattering his lips. A wet, slippery finger between his forcibly spread legs pressed at his anus as something warm and sticky landed across his bare stomach several times.

Valerie held the stiff member at its base as it emptied the contents of its adjoined balls into her mouth. Her soft breasts bounced back and forth as a fresh man fucked her and, when she came, there was a lot less regret in her tone than pleasure. She let her mouth fill with the man's seed while she rode out the intense waves of her experience. When it was over and she'd sucked the cock dry, she swallowed her mouthful and accepted the next one to her mouth with a whimper.

Ed, despite his tailbone's painful intimacy with the table beneath, gave himself over to his waitress rather quickly, maniac or no. One thing in his mind was certain, this being that she definitely fucked like a maniac. She panted, cursed and cried out in French as she rode him. When she drove her tongue inside his mouth, he opened up for it, letting it in and even liked it a little when she bit his lip.

It hurt at first, but Deb soon got used to the swollen member inside her. He'd pushed it in as far as it would go and just left it there, wiggling it around a little to enjoy her tight, youthful cunt while she groaned up at him, her eyes and mouth wide open. She looked at her father, whose eyes were glued to her crotch.

"Ohhh, Da-ddyyy," she strained in a low voice.

He seemed not to hear as he watched her abuser begin to fuck her slowly, but with unstoppable strokes that filled her completely before pulling out to repeat the process.

"Oh-hh! Ohh-h! Uhh!" she whined.

Now Allan did look at her face and was rewarded with getting all the more excited for it. He was almost relieved when a naked man from the booth behind him climbed into theirs, straddled Deb's face and fed her his prick. Looking back, he was just in time to see Grizzly Adams start playing his fingers through her muff before checking out her clit.

"Mmmmmmm! (slurp) Mmmgph!?"

A long, hard, curved penis appeared beside Jill's face as she approached orgasm. Without rational or moral thought, she took it in a light grip and began playing with it as she was the one between her legs. She found that she liked them, the straining, proud, magnificent things that felt somehow soft for all their hardness, and oh so warm. She enjoyed spreading its own precum over it and how the stuff felt on her hand.

Looking across the table to her father, she couldn't help but notice how he had his own penis in his hand while he watched Deb being used in front of him. He looked up at her, his face red, then looked down at her tits.

"Watch this, Dad."

She'd never given a blowjob before, not even when she let the boy next door screw her, but she'd fantasized about it many a time. Like in her fantasy's, she began with kissing the very tip, then slowly kissing up and down its length as her orgasm drew even closer. She was soon licking under the head with her hand still gripping the shaft and, when she popped it into her mouth, she looked at her father.

Without an erected prick in her mouth for once, Cheryl withstood another aggressive pounding from behind. She'd given up resisting and found herself strangely enjoying the tickly trickle of cum running down her face and neck, and the pounding was no longer totally objectionable either as her body was speeding to climax. She glimpsed Allan staring at Jill while she sucked on a cock, slowly stroking himself and, moments later, her deep grunts escalated to yelps of orgasmic pleasure.

Calvin heard Cheryl's event. He was on his back, behind her and with a great view of her pussy and ass, the crotch of her panties pulled aside for this view and the intrusive cock that was fucking her so well. The problem was that it was difficult to appreciate this, howling as he was at the cockhead finding its way ever deeper inside his anus. He'd heard several times that relaxing the sphincter made it hurt a lot less, but that was something else that was proving rather difficult. His own hardon was in his hand and he slowly stroked himself despite what was happening.

The crazy lady came violently, digging her nails into Ed's sides as she propped her weight on his chest by her hands, threatening to fracture his ribs. She hammered him mercilessly with her crotch throughout her orgasm, riding him like she was at the rodeo, but unaware that she only had to stay on for eight seconds.

And then she was gone, along with the best sex Ed had in years, if not ever. He saw someone new taking their place between Valerie's spread thighs, aiming his tool carefully at her opening and then driving it in. She yelled around the fat cock in her mouth and grabbed her nipple in a pinch between thumb and forefinger. To Ed, she never looked better and, having been left in an excited condition, he fervently wished he wasn't bungeed to the table just then.

The naked, grizzled man who was banging Deb to oblivion pulled out to finish himself off, squirting her young pussy and inner thighs with his seed until his groans died with his scrotum's supply. A moment later, the other naked man who'd been fucking her pretty mouth withdrew also, spurting over it time and time again until he too stopped, both of them replaced by fresh, hard cocks that were eager for someplace warm and tight.

Allan saw all this and almost came himself. He stopped his stroking, barely determined not to cum while watching his daughters being used like this, but it would be the last time. He looked up to see what was happening to Jill and was shamefully excited to see her resettling herself into the lap of the man beneath as his prick disappeared up inside her, inch by slow inch. She groaned at first, then began crying out in pain and pleasure that made her eyes roll in their sockets. She was having an orgasm, he realized while watching the man poke ever further up inside, wondering how deep his little girl was.

For Jill, the incident with the boy next door came to greater clarity in her mind. It was no wonder she wasn't impressed that day, certainly not enough to suck his penis. That wasn't sex, it was just him getting off, but this... This was sex. The orgasm she'd had was so much better than masturbation and it made the boy next door look as useless as he was. She found herself vaguely surprised at how she knew her sex life would be from that night on. When the nameless man finally bottomed out inside her, she reveled in the feeling of the big snake that filled her completely and felt another orgasm building. When she saw her father tentatively take Deb's breast in his hand, she raced along even faster as the man underneath started bouncing her up and down.

Someone was licking and sucking Cheryl's clitoris and doing a damned fine job of it as she was getting fucked from behind again. She'd had three orgasms at this point and was completely given over to the situation, the stiff phallus she sucked one that she herself put into her mouth. She'd always enjoyed sucking cock, but never thought she'd enjoy is so much and under such circumstances, not to mention how she now looked forward to another load of cum in her face and hair.

What did come as a shock was when the tool that had been ramming her vagina now pressed at her other opening, finding its way in surprisingly easily after thick, curious fingers had already blazed a trail through there. Still on her hands and knees, she ground out a moan and was pulled upright by the man perpetrating this taboo insertion while she looked down to see the person who'd been sucking her clit.

She met the eyes of Calvin. There was a wild look in his eyes, probably due to the man who was having sex with his anus as he stroked himself and, if the cock driving further and further up her bottom was a shock, this was a lightning strike.

Part of Calvin's mind worried that he'd be in trouble for giving his mother oral sex but, considering what else was happening, it really no longer mattered to him. Calvin only wanted to assure himself of his masculinity with a woman amidst the growing enjoyment of his sodomy. Any woman.

His mother's light purple, short sleeved pullover was heavily stained down the front with dark saliva and semen streaks, her face covered in jism like on the porn sites. While they stared at each other in dismayed surprise, the man whose cock she'd just been sucking roughly tore the front of her top open, then pulled her bra apart to allow her enhanced breasts to tumble free of their restraints above Calvin. Her nipples were hard and when the man jerked off all over them, some of it getting on Calvin's face, he no longer minded. His mother's wonderful body, her moans, the way she was being used and the way he was being used overwhelmed him and he came all over his stomach and chest, humming loudly into Cheryl's wet, tasty canal as his mother suddenly and helplessly came in his mouth.

To Ed's surprise, one of the woodsmen was letting him free. He sat up when the last of the bungees were removed and looked across the aisle at Valerie, still on her back and currently having her mouth fucked without regard while somebody else banged her pussy in the same manner. The noises she made were desperate and erotic and he began to somehow see his common-law in a different way as she violently climaxed.

Slipping off the table and out of what was left of his shirt, he looked down for a moment at his stiff member, his pants and underwear at his knees, then back at Valerie. She caught his eye, hers dropping to his pelvis as she sucked cock. Less than ten seconds later, Ed was naked and wandering carefully towards the Conway table. A few of the Frenchmen glanced, but nobody stopped him.

The young brunette was being used in much the same manner as Valerie while she watched her father playing with one of her nipples. From Ed's angle, he could see the man stroking himself while he pulled and gently twisted her bud. While they both watched, the man screwing her pulled out and, almost yelling with each shot, spurted himself over her crotch and lower belly.

Someone nudged him forward when the spent Frenchman moved away, between the legs of the beautiful and erotically soiled creature lying prone on the table. Her patch of black pubic hair was clotted with cum like her inner thighs and pouting, soaked pussy. It ran down the crack of her ass and over her anus as he took her calves in a firm grip, holding them up in a V while he inserted himself.

Jill was in a sexual place she never would have guessed even existed. The thick, hard member she was being bounced on crashed her reason and awareness as she came again, her breasts bouncing, eyes rolling, mouth open to broadcast long, broken wails.

Watching the waitress screwing her still hard son was not only a turn-on for Cheryl, but a relief. She understood how he'd need a woman in the face of what he'd been forced to enjoy the same as she had, but it was definitely better if that woman wasn't his mother, despite the great job he did with his tongue. His father wasn't that good and she vaguely wondered if he'd had practice, or if he was just a natural.

Jill's orgasm drew Cheryl's eyes as the man screwing her ass emptied himself inside, a new and exciting sensation for the mother of three. She couldn't see her daughter's actual penetration, but it was easy enough to tell that she was getting fucked like she expected could happen and it looked pretty good. Jill, Cheryl noted further, was certainly enjoying it.

Another orgasm approached her senses as someone else took their turn behind her, this one preferring vagina to anus, while she next beheld Deb. The other patron, the man who'd tried to warn them, was screwing her while he held her thighs spread. Another was feeding her his hardness as she lay there and let them abuse her, a limp, rag doll for their out of control passions while she grunted and moaned her evolving positive reaction to this treatment.

However, the big eye opener was her husband. He was kneeling on the seat of the booth now and fondling Deb's clitoris with one hand while masturbating with the other. As she watched, his face twisted and he let out a strangled cry as cum leapt from the end of his penis to lace his daughter's breasts over and over. Cheryl came hard, then harder as the man who'd been pumping Deb's beautiful face pulled out and spurted his load between the stunned girl's eyes and in her dark hair. Seconds later, the dick in her own mouth was spouting its seed and the only important thing in the world was swallowing as much of it as possible while spreading her knees a little further for the man banging from behind.

 

~

 

The heater had pretty much dispelled the previously frigid air inside the Daytona, but Valerie still leaned as close to Ed as she could with the console between them as they navigated the dark, snow packed, but freshly plowed secondary highway. Ed smiled lazily, taking his time and enjoying the snow filled trees lit up by his high beams as they wound through the countryside. Glancing to his right, he saw the same smile on Valerie's face, somehow a prettier face now than the one that walked into that diner. They drove in companionable silence until they started seeing the taillights of the plow ahead.

"Eddy?"

"Yeah?"

" ... Turn around."

"Turn... around?"

"Let's go to Montreal."

"What?"

"Yeah."

" ... Seriously?"

"Oh, yeah. Turn around, baby."

She'd never used that affectation before and he had to work at looking ahead of the car and not at her.

"What about your mother?"

"I'll call and make some excuse. Don't worry about it."

"O-kaaay," he agreed with a light chuckle, slowing the car down to prepare for a three point turn.

"Things are different now," he toned once this maneuver was accomplished and they were heading back in the direction they came. "Between us, I mean."

"Yes."

"You know, we uh..."

"I know," she softly told him.

After a pause, "Hey, Val?"

"Hmm?"

"I... (sigh) I want to see that again. I want to watch four of five guys gangbang you and I want you to see me fucking other women. There, I said it."

"Silly man. Why do you think we're going to Montreal?"

 

~

 

The full sized, Ford campervan was quiet, save for the powerful thrum of its V8, as the Conway family motored on towards their destination. Suddenly, the idea of his estranged cousin Mort's family reunion seemed ridiculous. Allan hadn't even seen the man since he was a kid, long before his parents moved to Canada and, from what he could remember, he didn't even like Mort back then, so what the fuck? Was this the best he could come up with to get his family out of the house for a while?

He glanced out the side window at the darkness passing by for a moment, rolling his eyes at his thoughts after what had just happened in the roadside diner. Ah yes, here was where one could truly ask, 'What the fuck?'

Deb sat beside him in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead through the windshield and as quiet as the rest of her family. Though they'd cleaned up before they left the diner, those of the Conway family who'd had clothes torn off had to visit their luggage in the rear, Cheryl being one of them.

Allan's oldest daughter silently recalled how the orgy had abruptly stopped up when the heavy plow powered by the diner, its wing blade throwing snow far and wide as the amber roof strobe repeatedly flashed the roadside establishment on its way by. She recalled the way everyone looked at each other before laughing quietly about the experience, the dirty secret they now all shared.

In the backseat, Calvin was in a state of sexual shock, surreptitiously watching his mother as she picked out a new bra and blouse. Her back was turned, but it didn't matter. Even her bare back was enticing enough to renew his hardon while Jill eyed it from beside him with a leering smile.

It wasn't Calvin's erection that made his sister smile, though she was greatly interested in it. It was his interest in their mother that brought this expression to her face and, glancing briefly at her, she made a risky decision.




Voices Carry



Calvin's attention was now riveted on his mother's bare back as she donned a lace bra, so much so that he didn't notice Jill leaning closer until she grabbed his stiff meat through his pants. He jumped and looked at her perverted expression with surprise, but that was nothing compared to the perversion that she proceeded to whisper in his ear.

Having found a bra, a smallish, rather sexy red one, Cheryl managed to get it on, mechanically adjusting her breasts inside the fresh lace cups before putting on the same white sweater she'd been wearing on her shoulders earlier. She felt a bit dazed, not sure that what had happened had really happened or not. It seemed all too unlikely, unreal, implausible even.

She'd been kneeling there on the bed in back, facing the rear of the van with her suitcase in front of her while dressing, but now just knelt there, sweater unbuttoned while she stared right through her open suitcase. She was jolted back to reality when Jill and Calvin climbed up on the bed, one at either side of her.

Cheryl let out a "yip!" when he grabbed her breasts, a surprised moan when Jill pulled her down to the mattress.

The curious sounds from the rear of the van never reached Allan's senses. He was in the middle of a horrific battle with himself. Conscience flanked his left, guilt flanked his right while a growing and insistent want concerning Deb drove right up the center. His penis was now as hard as Calvin's and his frequent glances at Deb weren't unnoticed by his oldest daughter, who was also watching what was transpiring in the rear of the campervan, her eyes steadily getting wider.

"(gasp)- Calvin, what are you- Ohh-h!"

"Hold her..."

"Dad... Jill and Calvin are... they're messing with Mom."

"Al- Ohh! Allan, stop the va-! Heeelp!"

"Debbie... take your shirt off," Allan suggested.

Deb's jaw parted slightly.

"And your bra. Show Dad your tits, honey."

"Calvin! Oh god, no! Cal- Calviiinnn!"

"Oh my god, yeah... fuck her. (giggle)"

"Ru- Uhhh...! Rub her clit, Jill."

With a shy smile, Deb slowly unbuttoned her blouse and removed it for her father, stripping off her bra after. She sat with a wider smile as she arched her back proudly for her very impressed father.

"Better watch the road, Dad."

He smiled back, looking her in the eyes now.

"Ohh! Ohh-h! Ohhh, Ca- alviii-iiin, fuu- uu- uuck!!!"

Allan smiled even wider when Deb reached over and began doing what was necessary to free his hardened penis from his pants. Once this was achieved, she gave him another shy, uncertain smile as she slowly stroked him before leaning over and covering the head with her lips.

"Mom, eat my pussy while I lick your clit."

"Uh-! uhh-! uhhh-! oh-hh-! gaa-! aaw-! aawd!!!"

The owner of Conway outfitters spread his knees and slouched in his seat a little, relaxing as Deb really got down to her slobbering, slurping business. He slowed the big Ford as another car approached from the opposite direction and, after it passed by, he didn't regain the speed he'd dropped. Allan Conway was in no hurry.

END



Voices from Another Room



©2009Adrian Leverkuhn

Are voices the man hears coming from behind closed doors, or from a past beyond redemption?

The man sat behind his desk in an office that looked out over the city from the 82nd floor of a large midtown skyscraper. He felt empty inside, dark and empty, just as he'd felt every day for weeks. Late afternoon cumulus clouds towered over the city, threatening rain - or worse - and even from the vantage of his office the city seemed to huddle below and brace for the coming storm. Yet the gathering clouds stood in curious contrast to the emptiness he felt in his heart. The sky outside held promises of release and renewal; inside he felt only the gray of winter bearing down. Verdant parks far below, swathed in vast oceans of green, mocked the chill that held him. He felt like trees in winter -- limbs stripped bare by indifferent winds, all waiting for sleep. He had never in his life been resolved to standing naked in the cold grip of long nights - alone.

There was a pencil on his desk, a metal lance on a plane of glass and steel, a mechanical pencil made in Germany that sat atop a neat stack of graphs and spreadsheets. The papers hadn't been touched in hours, some perhaps not in days. Unlike the man, the lead inside the pencil was sharp and ready. Plants waiting to be closed; jobs shipped from Ohio and Indiana to Singapore and Vietnam. What did it matter now?

A lithe woman, the man's secretary, walked into his office. She was in her mid-30s, very trim - but there was also something very precise in her manner. Precise, but her concern for the man was evident from the way she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, from the way she shook her head at his non-response to her entry. In her experience, men rarely ignored her. Certainly he hadn't -- not so long ago.

The woman told the man that the financials from Hanoi he had been waiting for were in, the P&Ls from Dayton would be ready before she left for the evening. She asked the man if there was anything he needed, 'Anything at all...' The man continued to look out the window; he watched clouds mass on the southwest horizon. He heard words, guessed their import, and he just managed to tell the woman, "No, not a thing." She left the room quietly, pulled the door to as gently as she could, then shook her head in - what? Sorrow? Regret? 

'How could I have known?' she said as she walked away. 'Why didn't he talk about it?'

+++++

Raindrops blew sideways on the glass; drops streaked across the smoothness in glittering, down-swept arcs. The man watched the arcs, followed their motion as they fell to the inevitable conclusion of their journey. He fingered the bridge of his nose, ignored the single tear that formed in his right eye, ignored the glittering downward arc of his grief. 

His eye moved to a flash in the sky; he watched as lightning ignited looming grayness, shattered arcs jumped from cloud to cloud. Release might yet come for him, he thought, if there was yet some small measure of justice left in the world. But no...

...But now the man understood -- he knew beyond any doubt - that justice was a fiction, a commodity bought and sold with the currency of grief and sorrow. He was living proof of that; proof that justice was as blind to human misery as the clouds that glowed in somnambulant passage. Justice is a commodity too often forbidden the broken hearted. And to those who break hearts there is at best a shallow redemption -- in the shadows. 

He opened the top left drawer of his desk, and took out the small piece of paper he kept there. It was elegant paper, handmade and thick, its edges irregular and faded toward grays and beige. He looked at the words on the paper, felt himself drawn inward as he fell into their hidden traps once again. He had no experience with the unknown emotion the words held -- emotions sharp and cold like a blade held to his throat. And yet these words felt as if they had been meant for another -- like they had been borne far away, were of a time that no longer existed:

Just in silence, a tree -

naked rain kisses the up-turned needles of her limbs

and as in the gathering of a sigh

like a breeze, death comes, and life renews the question -

she vanishes within the emptiness

of love borne on careless wings

and is gone... into the silence that remains.

The man fingered the paper as her words broke over his soul, painted their shared barren landscape once again over the cracked canvas of what remained. He found no comfort in her words -- he saw an infinite sorrow as he held the paper in his hands, a sorrow not his own but his alone. He was unaware that he held the paper as he'd held her so often -- tentatively, loosely, with no sense of being beyond the oneness of his life. The man looked for hidden logic in her words, some way out of the trap, but every time he tried he had to turn away -- as if in his own inadequacy he had nothing to give.

"And life renews the question..." Henry Brinson said once again, lost in vast echoes of time.

+++++

He walked into that space he presumed to call home, into that other glass-lined cubist aerie high above the city that provided yet another interesting perspective on life far below. He took off his coat and laid it over the back of an Eames chair as he walked to the kitchen; his dinner was prepared and waiting in the bank of Sub-Zero refrigerators that lined one wall. He took the salad within and put it on the island in the middle of the kitchen, then fixed himself a scotch. He picked at the salad for a while but knew he was unable to feel even hunger now; he held the glass in his hand up to the light, contemplated the solitude that waited inside the smoky amber liquid, yet he found that silence wanting too. He held the glass under his nose and waited for memory to awaken, but that retreat had been cut off as well.

He put the glass down, walked through the space they had designed to the books they had collected; he looked at the wall of before him as one looks upon any wall. He reached for a book but his hand hesitated -- as if the truths within were too painful, too damning -- and his hand settled upon another. Meditations, by Marcus Aurelius. He picked a page at random, opened the book and stared at the words that leapt to his soul:

'Whatever happens to you has been waiting to happen since the beginning of time. The twining strands of fate wove both of them together: your own existence and the things that happened to you.'

The man nodded, closed the book. "Yes," he said quietly, almost dreamily. "Twining strands of fate."

He walked into his bedroom, their bedroom, and took off his clothes, got into the shower. 

"And life renews the question..." Her words kept coming to him; he could not stop their haunted refrain.

No matter how hard he scrubbed the stains her words left would not go away.

He toweled himself dry, walked to his bed, their bed, and he lay his head down in hope of sleep.

And then the voices came, as they had for so many weeks.

+++++

Seven months earlier

She'd only been working with him for a few weeks but the signs were unmistakable. She was interested. More than interested. She had interviewed with him three weeks ago, come dressed conservatively but with just a little flash showing; now it was all flash, all provocation. She was an attractive woman, single and attractive. Probably a little ambitious, too. 'Be careful,' he'd told himself a couple of times already. He could already see her more overt manipulations; he'd have to keep an eye out for her less obvious maneuvers.

But she had been careful, too.

She'd watched him watching other women, watched where his eyes went and where they lingered. He liked taller women, blonds, of course, and his eyes followed legs, were drawn to the clicking of high heels on terrazzo. He easily made eye contact with most people but when these same attractive women came to see him, to talk to him; he had a hard time making eye contact, didn't he? He suddenly seemed distracted, easily flustered by these women, and she'd watched as more than one had managed him by employing a well-timed crossing of the legs or a subtly revealed cleavage. She'd almost laughed out loud!

Men were so funny, she told herself; so predictably funny. So like little boys in a candy store. All you had to do was offer just the tiniest chance of a taste and you owned them. Some men, anyway. Stupid to make generalities unless you had all the facts because, she knew from experience, some men were very hard to handle. Very hard to control. She had the wounds to prove it, too.

But for Carolyn Saunders there were few men she could not control. Her new 'boss' was almost too laughably predictable, so boyishly drawn to the impulses and desires instinct had planted in his mind. And while this need she had to control might soon be fulfilled, she held only discontent near her heart. While this new man might only be another skirmish in a greater war, she considered herself a master tactician. And she had scores to settle.

She settled-in and waited, waited for the weakness people of her sort so often seek. She was patient, and like any good predator she knew the ways of her prey. And she was hungry, always so very hungry.

+++++

Jennifer Brinson sat on the examining room table, cold vinyl sticking to the back of her thighs, the fire in her left breast still pulsing. Whoever invented the mammogram, she thought, must have been an inquisitionist. She sat with ankles crossed, arms folded protectively across her chest, but she couldn't shake the cold dread she'd felt all morning. Even the stupid magazines that always seem to find their way to physician's offices were of no use.

'So stupid!' she scolded. She'd stopped doing self-exams years ago, thought she was too old for such nonsense, but the hot lump in the belly of her left breast she'd felt in the shower that morning hadn't cared one way or another, it didn't give a damn how old she was. Or how smart or stupid or careless. It just was. It existed, and that hot, hard existence had in an instant become the central reality of her life. There was no doubt at all in her mind that -- 'things had changed.'

The doctor came in, Deborah M. Goldstein, M.D. embroidered on her white coat. A smug young girl probably full of herself, Brinson thought; a freshly minted internist and probably clueless! As she walked into the examination room all Brinson could think was that her regular doctor had picked a fine time to go on vacation! And he'd left her in the clutches of this chubby bohemian princess, this hairy-legged poster-child for poor oral hygiene wearing green Birkenstocks and smelling of frizzy-haired patchouli. Geesh!

The physician's lips were bunched-up -- like she'd bitten into a lemon and was surprised by her own reaction. Her glasses were thick, her contracted lips as melancholy as her eyes. She looked over numbers on a print-out, scratched the side of her nose.

"I see here your mother died of breast cancer?"

"Yes." So much history behind that word.

"Mine too."

"I'm sorry..." Jennifer said, but she never really knew how to respond to that news. "What did you find...?"

"Not much good news, I'm afraid. Pretty suspicious lesion. Best line up a biopsy."

Jennifer Brinson nodded, tried to hold back the anguish she felt building -- and failed. She knew she was crying, knew she was losing control...

She felt the other woman come close and hold her, felt herself enveloped in the other woman's arms. Everything she'd been holding inside for hours -- days -- weeks -- months came undone, and she felt herself falling into an impossible darkness. She felt soft fingers run through her hair, a gesture so simple, so kind, so unexpected.

After thousands of years passed she leaned away from the physician, tried to wipe her eyes. The girl held a box of tissues for her, helped her wipe away the tears and snot and drool that so often mark the critical turning points of our lives.

The girl held out a hand, placed it loosely on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "You alright now?"

"Peachy."

"Yeah. Let's go up front and see when we can get that biopsy scheduled."

+++++

She decided not to tell Henry, not to worry him until she had more definitive information to share. They went out to dinner that night and if he noticed anything amiss he didn't ask. He'd been content to talk about the restructuring at work and had talked about layoffs and plant closings. And he'd mentioned getting a new secretary, one to replace Deloris, the kind old woman who'd taken care of him forever. She'd been with the company since before the last Ice Age but saw the writing on the wall and took early retirement. He missed her already, he said, but the new one personnel had sent up might work out okay.

"What's she like," Jennifer asked. 

"Oh, a real fire-cracker, doll," he'd said as he chuckled. "A minor-league flirt hoping to screw her way up to the majors."

"Trouble?" she'd asked.

"With a capital-T, darlin'." He'd winked at her while he worked on his steak, tossed off a second scotch and moved on to other news.

So too had she. She trusted Henry, knew his weaknesses. She knew their marriage was not one of them.

+++++

She went to the hospital a few days later, early in the morning. She told Henry she had an early meeting with the partners and left; he saw the overnight bag she'd try to hide from view but let it go...

When he got in that evening she was home already, which was unusual. And she was asleep... at a quarter past five. That was very unusual. When he went into the bedroom and sat on the bed by her side she opened her eyes and looked at him, smiled a little, said she wasn't feeling good and that he'd have to fend for himself tonight. He'd asked if she needed anything; 'no,' she'd said quietly, then he'd kissed her on the forehead before calling an old college buddy and going out for a beer.

+++++

She sat on the cold table in the examination room, flipped through another magazine that had a million ideas for turning one's backyard into Shangri-la or the Blue Grotto; she thought about the absurdity of it all that crap and tossed the magazine aside. She felt alone. And she felt like she wanted to be alone; like she wanted nothing to do with humanity -- she just wanted to be cast aside from all this absurd misery. 

The Birkenstock'd doctor, 'Goldstein, right?' came in carrying a huge folder crammed with hundreds of multi-colored pages.

"That's me, huh?" Jennifer said as she pointed at the blizzard of paper. "The essence of me, right there in black and white. Reductio ad absurdum."

"Or... vox clamantis in deserto," the physician replied in kind. She smiled gently.

They looked at one another for a moment, then Jennifer looked away, crossed her arms.

"So your Honor, what's the verdict?"

"The cell cultures are, well, they correlate well with the MRI. Stage 4. Metastasis in the lung and liver. Some suspicious sites along the duodenum and pancreas."

"Geesh."

"Yeah."

"Prognosis?"

"Not as bad as it was ten, fifteen years ago. There are some new guns in the arsenal..."

"Isn't that what's called an evasion, doc?"

"Guilty as charged, counselor." Goldstein looked at her patient, at this woman so lost in time, and she felt as she'd felt when she'd looked at her own mother twenty years before. "Listen, Jennifer, giving up, losing hope, that's the worst thing that can happen now. The last thing you can do. I'm not going to sugar-coat this. We aren't going to cure it, but we'll try to control it. This is as bad as it gets -- but there's... hope. We can, at the very least, give you more... time."

"What are you talking about? Tamoxifen?"

"Probably give that a try, maybe Herceptin, Abraxene. We'll get you started with an Oncologist and..."

... but Jennifer Brinson wasn't listening anymore... she was adrift... adrift on the river Alph... adrift 'through caverns measureless to man... down to a sunless sea...'

+++++

He got home early that afternoon, found her in the bathroom, crying, holding her left breast.

"Babe? What's wrong?"

She had turned and rushed the door, slammed it in his face.

"Babe? Jenn? What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Leave me alone, would you? I'll be alright in a minute."

"Right. Uh, remember we've got dinner tonight, with Jeff and Linda."

She struggled to catch her breath, push away the suffocating fear: "Yeah, yes, I remember. What is it? Sushi tonight?"

"No, that new Afghan place over on 43rd."

"Oh, right. What time is it?"

"Almost five."

"Do I have time for a bath?"

"Sure, babe. Can I fix you something? A martini?"

"Sounds like heaven, Hen. Be out in a minute."

+++++

She struggled to make conversation that night, struggled to stay fixed on other people's lives. Linda Douglas griping about how incompetent her hairdresser was, Jeff and Henry arguing about the effectiveness of tax cuts to stimulate the economy. 'Bullshit!' she said to herself, 'all this profound, pointless bullshit!'

She'd picked at her food, held her martini and looked deep into the silver coolness; the swirling eddies she saw in her glass were as random and pointless as the cells inside her breast -- so deadly in their attempt at normalcy. When she looked at her friends all she felt was crushing emptiness; the man she called her husband seemed as remote as a distant glacier. Slow moving and cold. 'Why? Why me, Henry? Why now?'

Henry wanted to make love that night, but she couldn't, hadn't been in the mood. He stayed up late, sat in the living room and read until he fell asleep -- in the soft recesses of his favorite chair. His was a restless sleep, his dreams full of foreboding images. He jumped from his last dream when ravens settled on the face, began picking at lifeless eyes. 

When he woke early that morning he was met by silence; she had already left for work. When he got out of the shower he noticed her bathrobe was gone; he brushed away shadows that flew past his eyes and wondered why he suddenly felt so alone. 

The face in the dream? 

Whose face was it?

+++++

Carolyn Saunders watched him that morning, she watched him closely. He seemed hurt, alone, confused.

"You alright, Henry?" she said. She had taken to calling him by his first name recently; he didn't seem to mind.

"Hm-m, oh. Yeah, fine. Rough night."

"You want to talk about it?"

He'd looked at her as he might have looked at a snarling dog. "Did Henderson get back with the figures from that contractor in Singapore?"

"No, Mr Brinson."

"Bring 'em in as soon as you get 'em." He brushed her away as he might any other shadow before his eyes. He pulled up a spreadsheet and began working the problem...

Just before noon he called Jennifer. Her paralegal answered.

"Hi, Aaron. Is she in?"

"No Henry, she's working out of the office today."

"Oh?"

"Something came up. Hasn't she called you?" What was that in his voice? Evasion? 

"No." He hung up the phone, turned and looked out the window. Snow drifted by the on the other side of the glass -- some flakes fell, others seemed to rise for a moment, other hovered indecisively. 

The door opened. His secretary came in.

+++++

And they had lunch that day. A quiet sandwich, a glass of beer. He told her that his wife had recently withdrawn from him and that he didn't understand why. He asked if she might have any idea, wanted to see if she had some insight he'd missed.

"Do you think she's having an affair?" Carolyn Saunders asked.

The question shook him up; he'd never thought that of his wife. They had known each other too long, had been best friends since the day before forever. It wasn't possible, Henry Brinson said, her cheating just wasn't possible.

"She's not the type," he said.




Voices from Another Room



"They never are," she said as quickly.

He paid for lunch and they walked back to the office; he was lost in indecision. He heard the clicking of her heels on the lobby's broad terrazzo floor and drifted back a little, looked at her shapely legs and stiletto heels. 'She's really a good looking woman,' he told himself. He shook the thought from his head, caught up with her as the elevator doors parted.

Carolyn smiled as he entered; she turned and smiled at Henry as he stepped beside her.

'Such a little boy,' she told herself once again. 'So ready for his candy.'

+++++

He walked into his office, went to the window and watched sunlight filter through thin veils of cloud. A light flashed on his phone; there was a voicemail from Jennifer: "Sorry about last night, Henry. I know I haven't been myself lately, and I'm, uh, sorry. Uh, look, I've got to go away for a few days, something's come up. I'll probably be back early next week, Monday or Tuesday anyway. We'll talk when I get back... we need to talk..."

And just like that... she was gone. He'd lost her. He knew it. Everything he'd taken for granted about his life and about love was -- gone. She'd been so cool and distant the past few weeks. Had she found someone else? What else could it be?

Carolyn walked into the room, watched him for a moment, read his mood, then walked up behind him and put her arms around his waist. He tensed and she hovered, he relaxed and she smiled.

"You have to learn to let go, Henry. Nothing lasts forever. Not even love."

He nodded, bit his lip. A part of him felt like cutting loose and crying, another part felt like turning and facing this sudden need, taking this woman and running through the snow with her, running until he found warmth and quiet smiles again.

He turned, brought his fingers to her chin and lifted her face to meet his.

+++++

She rode home with him that evening, looked in on his other world. She liked what she saw, could imagine herself living like this. She liked Henry, liked the way he worked so purposefully. His dedication to the company, even the man's dedication to his wife was admirable. She admired these qualities, perhaps, because these qualities were so lacking in most people she knew.

He fixed drinks; they sat together on the sofa in the living room and talked of other things -- of places and evenings far removed from the present. He seemed ill-at-ease for a while but relaxed as he made his way into a second scotch; she moved closer, took his drink and put it on a table then leaned down with nimble fingers, took his penis in her mouth, shaped his need around the contours of her will, swirling warmth surrounded them as snow a million miles away blanketed streets far below.

+++++

She stayed the night. He fixed her breakfast. They showered together and she took him in her mouth again, she reveled in the flooding warmth he fed her. He took her and kissed her, she felt her hold on him growing with each passing moment and she loved him for it, hated him for bending to her will so easily.

+++++

They talked more that second night, talked of hopes and dreams and a million tomorrows. Pillow talk, intimate and as warm as embers in a fireplace. The fireplace she had wrought from his sorrow and grief. They made love and talked and talked, they played and laughed and fell into one another's arms and kissed and made love again and again.

He was on top of her when he heard the door open. He froze, turned, looked... nothing. He pulled out of her, rose to his knees.

"Did you hear something?" he said.

"No. Like what?"

"A door." He stood and went to the bedroom door and listened.

Nothing.

He opened the door, walked out into the darkened living room.

Nothing... but...

That smell? What is it? Perfume? Jennifer's perfume? Carolyn's?

He walked to the front door; the door was unchained, unlocked. Had he forgotten to lock it last night? He suddenly felt like a wounded beast, like unseen scavengers circled just out of sight. Something flashed before his eyes and he brushed it away.

He locked the door and set the alarm, walked back into the bedroom. Carolyn was asleep, breathing easily. He went into the bathroom, closed the door and turned on the light. He brushed his teeth, tried to brush Carolyn from his lips and tongue but the taste remained. He smelled his fingers and smelled Carolyn, smelled the extremity of her need on his flesh, the hidden depths of his betrayal.

He looked at himself in the mirror, at the man he had been only days ago and the man he had so suddenly become.

+++++

She stood before the mirror, her breast in her hands. She looked upon it as one might a betraying husband, as someone who had violated a most basic trust. Only this was her breast, a part of herself. 'But Henry is a part of me, too,' she told herself. She smiled at his implicit fidelities, the way he held her and kissed her, the way they had always talked in shared languages of simple truths.

'Why am I afraid to talk to him, to tell him?'

She knew he'd understand, that he'd love her always.

'Because I'm the betrayer,' she said to her reflection, 'I'm the one causing the pain!' She looked at the breast with pure contempt, as something to be cast aside, as something unworthy of her husband's love.

"Good riddance!" she said into the emptiness.

The door opened, a surgical orderly pushed a malevolent-looking metal gurney into the room, an anesthesiologist and nurses trailed like priests and acolytes in a ghostly procession. 

"It's time, Ms Brinson," the physician said. "Go ahead and lay down. I'm going to start an I.V. and give you something to take the edge off..."

"Are you? Are you indeed?" She looked at her breasts one last time and let her gown fall. 

+++++

His stomach growled. He was hungry, wondered where he'd take her for lunch today. She came in while he was lost in the space between work and dreams and he looked up; looked at her gorgeous legs and that alluring smile. He imagined the warmth behind those lips, those lips that picked him up and carried him to places he'd never known or imagined existed.

She caught his eyes and held him there, slipped just the barest tip of her tongue from her lips and watched him shift and settle in his chair. Candy, she told herself... just like candy.

The telephone buzzed and flashed; his personal line. He wanted to ignore it but thought it might be Jennifer. He watched Carolyn as reached for the phone, felt her come up behind him and run her fingers through his hair.

"Brinson," he said gruffly.

"Uh, yes, Henry, Henry Brinson?"

"Speaking."

"Mr Brinson, my name is Deborah Goldstein; I'm your wife's internist. She didn't want me talking to you but there have been some developments this morning you need to be aware of..."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I, uh, don't quite know where to begin. Maybe it would be better if you came to the hospital now; we have a lot of ground to cover..."

Seven weeks earlier

He had taken a leave of absence, had been at his wife's side for months. He sat with her through chemo, paced anxiously in waiting rooms outside Oncology and Radiology, pushed her wheelchair to one appointment after another, lifted her ever-lighter body out of their bed each morning and placed her as gently in their bed each evening. He fixed her food and, when it became necessary, he fed her. As she got sicker he changed soiled pads under her, changed the sheets two, sometimes three times a day. He read to her, carried her into the shower and placed her in a chair and washed her body, ran his fingers through her hair. Some days he felt so ashamed of himself when he looked at the rippled and bruised flesh where her breasts had once been. Other days he saw his betrayal as simple justice, the cross he would bear the rest of his life.

He wanted her to live. He wanted to turn the clock back. He wanted to tell her everything.

"I'm fighting, Hen," she told him time and again, "I'm doing the best I can."

"I know you are, darlin'."

But it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough. There was no medicine strong enough, no prayer pure enough. No love enduring enough. There was only the night, the looming darkness.

Friends came by, they brought food. Flowers adorned her bedroom. Daisies, always daisies. Friends from high school sat and talked with her, told her how well she looked, that surely she must be getting better. Her father came, old and frail, the memory of his wife's battle a livid wound on the man's soul. 

He saw the ravens again in a dream. They were picking the truth from her eyes. In the ravens eyes he saw the truth; they were his eyes, pitiless and vile.

Seven days earlier

She slipped away from him in the night, as quietly as she could. In her last moments all she wanted was to spare him the grief she had known was coming. She wanted him to move on, to find love again. To live again. She passed not knowing the truth of her husband's infidelities.

Days before she had written a poem. She had started a haiku but resisted its limitations, drifted beyond constraint as feelings found expression on paper. She had slipped it in an envelope and told Henry to read it after.

Friends came, family gathered. Associates from work dropped by after the service.

Carolyn Saunders came. "I'm sorry," she said. "So sorry."

He looked at her with raven's eyes once before he turned away. Then he heard her behind the bedroom door. Not Jennifer... no, it was Carolyn... he heard Carolyn behind the door, heard her laughter, heard their lovemaking. Just as Jennifer had when she stood outside their door that night...

Seven days later

He returned to work the day after she passed. He took refuge in the banality of other routines, and he ignored his secretary. He had mountains of work to catch up on, factories that would soon close, jobs waiting to be shipped overseas. All the demands of dying empire remained to be looked after, and that was his job. He watched thunderstorms building, drifted through the extremities of her need -- and his failure.

He went home that evening, alone. He tried to eat but couldn't; tried to drink something -- and failed. He went to bed.

He watched the sun rise from where he lay, and he watched it set. And again and again. He lay still for days, listening to the laughter and gentle sighs of their lovemaking... but he couldn't tell who laughter it was.

Was it Jennifer's laughter, or Carolyn's?

Whenever he moved, whenever the physical needs of his body intruded, the laughter began again, louder, more insistent. And still he couldn't tell whose laughter it was he heard.

Sunrise, sunset. Time passing, light dimming, no sensation... only floating.

A knocking at the door, insistent. Shouts, questions.

He feels detached from the world now, floating, adrift above the bed. He sees Carolyn and someone from the building, and police officers. They are moving around the room and someone sits on the man's chest. One presses on the man's chest while another breathes into the man's mouth, Carolyn cries, turns and runs from the room.

He hears laughter now, but gentle laughter, soothing and knowing. Not the laughter of bitterness and broken vows. He turns to a face so familiar, so welcoming, and his soul is filled with joy. She is reaching out to him. He turns for a moment, looks at the people below, then returns to his wife and is gone.

end©2009AL



Voices in My Head



I sat down this evening to edit and submit some of my husband's stories. I pulled up his files, and sat and stared at them. They are stories of him, not me, how do I go about filling in the blanks?

{"Write for yourself."}

I heard this in my mind, clear as day. For a second, I froze, then I looked around fully expecting to see Ted Standing there. I glanced back at the screen before me, thinking for a second the sound came from the speakers.

{"Just write enough to let the reader's mind fill in the missing."}

I did jump at that one, it was clear in my mind, I heard it! Then I felt the touch, a tracing along my earlobe. The smell of him, masculine, a trace of the scent of the cigarettes he used, sneaking one or two a day right to the end, thinking I didn't know..

"What in the world?" I thought. I tried just a couple of times to look around the room, nothing. But then in my mind, Ted was here.

{"Go ahead, write this, write what I am doing."}

I started to type, his fingers brushed my cheek. Instantly, like always, like every time he touched me for over 30 years, my nipples became alert. I felt his fingers brush down my chest, cupping my small breast. My nipple erected into the palm of his hand. I sighed and allowed my body to surrender to him.

{"Tell them the sensation, leave some to their thoughts."}

Such sweet shock, such a flood of pleasure. I felt my body shudder at the feeling. I got up and walked across the room to the couch, I could sense him right behind me. I lay back, eyes closed, I dared not to open them or I would spoil the moment. I felt his tongue, the feeling flooded down my abdomen, I felt myself wetting in readiness.

Suddenly I was naked to the waist, then I felt my slacks and panties sliding down my hips, the weight of Ted's body replacing them.

{"Write in pictures, let the readers know what you feel"}

Ted always kept himself up on his hands, to keep from pressuring me, he was such a large strong man. This time he crushed me into the couch, what I always wanted him to do. But he was careful to not hurt me, he just became one with me.

Then I felt him enter me, big and strong, like always. I orgasmed in seconds, just like I nearly always do with him. No two motions were the same, the one unique thing about this man. It was impossible to ever be prepared for what he would do. I could only react to what he did do.

I felt him when he reached his peak, felt the wetness flooding inside me. I felt almost pain in my abdomen from the sheer strength of my excitement. The muscles rippled in involuntary wave after wave. He withdrew, I kept my eyes tightly closed, I knew if I opened them that I would be alone. I wanted to stay this way forever.

{This is just to let you know I love you!"}

I opened my eyes, I was alone. I looked down at myself, naked except for my open blouse. Just a dream, I felt the tears welling in my eyes.

Then I reached between my legs, and felt the extra wetness. I brought it to my lips, it was Ted.

There was no mistake. I looked at the leather of the couch, saw the stains there. I took a towel and wiped them up, like I had so many times before after joining with my man. I brought the towel to my nose, a mixture of my own desire and his..

Something he told me once popped into my head. He said, "Who knows what lives between the shadows in their room?"

I smiled to myself as I redressed and walked back to the computer. I now knew for sure, Ted would be there, somewhere, waiting for me when my time comes.

Suddenly I am no longer sad, I look at the Urn on my shelf that contains Ted's remains. I won't need his help to post his stories, I can do that now.

Everyone needs someone, I have no idea what my life will be like now that Ted is gone. But I do know what my life will be like when I am gone, I have a personal invitation!

Maybe, just maybe, I will get another visit.

Lee



Voices in the Dark



She swam towards the voices in the dark. They were laughing and making jokes about the disgusting state of the water. Disgusting because the drought had brought the water line down so low, nature was having a hard time cleaning itself.

There they were. She could make out their heads silhouetted against the distant lights on the other side of the lake. Big Dave was laughing at something Steve had said. They had stopped moving forward and were drifting on the two floats they had pilfered off the pier. They could both swim, but she knew she was a stronger swimmer than either of them. They weren't going to let go of the floats. They had their backs to her, and so far she hadn't made a noise to alert them that they were being stalked. There were no lights on the beach behind her that could alert them if they were to look in her direction. When she was about ten feet behind them she ducked below the surface and grabbed Big Dave's leg. She could hear him scream through the water. She then grabbed Steve's leg. His screams joined Big Dave's to shatter the serene quiet of the dark summer night.

She came to the surface giggling. The guys were still screaming and panting and flailing until they realized who it was giggling at them just a few feet away.

She continued to swim out towards the middle of the lake and was out of their view within a few strokes. They nervously called her name, asking where she was, fearing another sneak attack. After letting them worry for a few minutes, she slowly swam back to them. She grabbed a hold on Steve's float and let her right foot seek out and find his left leg.

Slowly she began to run her foot up and down, stopping only at his ankle and his shorts. Big Dave, who could barely see anything above the water line, much less below it, greatly suspected she wanted to be alone with Steve and graciously paddled toward the pier and out of sight.

Steve had been avoiding her, knowing that if he didn't, "it" might happen again; and since the first time was a one time occurrence, "it" couldn't happen again.

She was older. But THAT wasn't the problem. He'd known her since he was ten, but THAT wasn't the problem. He knew her whole family, but THAT wasn't the problem. They had been best friends since college. They knew each other's heartaches and fantasies. He'd seen her through her last heartbreak and she'd held his hand through his. They had always flirted, and she had even pressed a few times. She liked to see him squirm, and she knew he would always resist so it was just something she did for fun.

Then she made plans to go to Germany to see the guy who just a few months earlier had broken her heart. Suddenly, Steve realized he didn't want to share her.

The night before she left, he was determined to send her to Europe thinking of him, not the other guy. He planned to seduce her and make love to her and make her consider canceling her trip. But his plans were foiled by a well-laid surprise bon voyage party in her honor.

She took off for a romantic affair in Paris never knowing she had been so close to something special in her own backyard.

The first person she saw when she got back from Europe was Steve. She told him how wonderful her trip had been. She wanted to see if he cared. He smiled and said he was happy for her and took her out to celebrate her return.

They went to his favorite hangout. A dive in the foothills of Tennessee wher they serve drafts in tall frosty mugs and some soggy nachos on styrofoam plates. They talked and talked. Finally, they got around to the bon voyage party. She told him it was a huge surprise and he had done a great job keeping her occupied and in the dark. He listened, but he wouldn't look at her.

Then he turned and looked in her eyes and said, "I was going to make love to you that night." Without missing a beat she said, "Well why didn't you?" knowing full well there had been no time, but feeling she had to let him know she would have if he had tried.

They got quiet and finally started the long drive home back to Alabama. They kept talking in the little car, but both had just one thing on their minds.

All of the sudden he pulled off the road on a little dirt turnoff that led under a bridge next to a creek. He stripped off his seatbelt and nearly dived across the bucketseat on top of her and began kissing her. It was 90 degrees and the little Datsun didn't have air conditioning. They were sweating as they pulled at each other's clothes. It was about 8:00 pm, still plenty of sun on an August night in North Alabama.

Her shirt and her bra flew out the window as he kissed and sucked his way down to her large breasts.

She slid the seat back as far as it would go and laid the seat back, as she pulled off his shirt and tossed it in the back seat.

He pulled off her little shorts and panties together. Then somehow in the tangle of car, stick shift, assorted car trash and arms and legs, they both got naked and in a furious rush to have someone they both had wanted for a long time, they weren't putting a lot of time into feeling each other out, just getting to the main event.

She had one foot on the steering wheel and one on the mirror outside the window. He was kneeling in the floor in front her seat, when a pickup truck with a couple of fishers drove by and had a nice view of the proceedings. They honked and continued on their way, and Steve laughed and continued to reach a fever pitch.

When they both were spent, and had found their clothes, Steve felt a stupid need to qualify it.

"This was a nice one-time experience, but we are both adults and good friends, and this never has to happen again." If she hadn't been so upst, she would have been mad at him for laying his guilt on her. She got mad later at home by herself.

Now, they were at the lake. The whole trip there, he had been mentally avoiding the fact that they were spending a weekend together. Now as she rubbed his leg with her foot, he started to melt. He reached around her neck and untied her bathing suit top. He pulled and it came off without too much resistance. He laid it on the float. With both legs, beneath the float, he pulled her closer, the float separating them at the surface. She let go of the float and slid into the water pulling his shorts down his legs and off as she shot through the water. She swam to the top and deposited them on the float. 

He reached for her bottoms and pulled them down her legs, also putting them on the float for safe keeping.

Then, as he held the float, he tried to draw her down low enough so he could enter her, but she couldn't keep her head above water. In between laughing and choking, she asked that they move to shallow water so she wouldn't drown.

As they reached waist deep, Steve let the float go and embraced her in a long kiss. His arms reached down her back and over her hips to her thighs and pulled her up off the bottom. She allowed herself to float perpendicular to his body. He slowly entered her and held her tight for a moment. Then slowly, he pushed her body away, then, just as slowly, pulled it close. She allowed herself to float. Not just her body, but also her mind. It was wonderful. She let her body take over, and his manipulation with his fingers each time he pulled her close, made her shake and shudder.. and finally cum, and he waited for her.

As they finished, he held her. 

Then he started laughing. It was 2:00 am, pitch dark, no moon, they were naked, and their swimsuits had floated away somewhere out in the dark on that very large lake.

She looked around and spotted a shadow about 50 yards away, and swam off to retrieve their suits.

By the time they had dressed and reached the pier again, he was distant.

Damn men.

Steve sat on the opposite side of the pier talking to friends. She set on the edge dangling her feet in the water. The little group decided to take a boat ride. She declined. She was surprised when Steve also declined.

They watched the others go, then Steve got up and came and offered her his hand. He pulled her up and along the pier to the beach. She had no idea what was on his mind or where he was leading her. When she tried to ask, he would put a finger to her lips to quiet her. Finally she stopped asking.

When they were out of sight and hearing of the pier and cabin, he turned to her and kissed her. She enjoyed it, but was still upset about his actions on the pier. She tossed around the idea of stopping him, but she couldn't.

She let him pull off her shirt, then her sweat pants. He pulled off his shirt and laid it in the sand for her to lie on. She sat on it and lay back pulling him down with her.

There wasn't the magic there had been in the water. They rolled in the sand getting their sweaty bodies coated in the unforgiving grit of the lake beach. Sand was getting everywhere.

As he pulled back he said "my knees are hamburger," which caused her to laugh.

He pulled her up and they walked out to the water to rinse off the sand. In the shallows they started a slow petting and kissing. It only ended as they heard the group who had taken the boat out returning.



Voices in the Darkness



 VOLUME ONE -- VOICES IN THE DARKNESS 

*

Chapter 1

All eyes turned as my attorney called our witness: "The plaintiff calls Michelle Liu to the witness stand."

The entire courtroom fell silent in anticipation of Michelle's appearance. The distinctive sound produced from a woman's high heel shoes walking on a marble floor could be heard approaching. The sound from each step grew louder as she approached the imposing double doors of courtroom number two. 

Michelle Liu was the star witness in my case. She walked confidently down the center aisle of the Orange County courtroom located in Santa Ana, California. She was dressed in a navy blue pin striped suit and she wore dark blue high heel pumps. Her right ankle was adorned with a thin gold and diamond bracelet which glimmered with each of her strides. She carried a small hand bag which she grasped firmly in her left hand. Her raven colored hair was cut in a manner which accented her beautiful dark eyes. Bangs covered most of her forehead and formed a straight line above her eyebrows. Her makeup had been applied flawlessly and she looked as if she was a fashion model striding down a catwalk. Her hips swayed seductively as she moved. She approached the bailiff who was standing in front of the witness stand.

I had achieved celebrity status as a result of my case, even though I was shy and avoided being a public person. But my story had that precise combination of elements which produced high ratings for the 24 hour news networks. They knew that any scandal involving wealthy doctors, sex, and intrigue would draw a huge audience. So I was forced into my fifteen minutes of fame.

Michelle was seated after swearing to tell the truth in the matter of Christine Velarde vs. Southland Memorial Hospital Incorporated. Her testimony was crucial to my case. She had come forward one and a half years ago after my story gained some local news exposure. Michelle claimed that she couldn't live with herself knowing what she had done. So she contacted my private attorney and he in turn directed her to the State Attorney. As a result of her willingness to testify I was going to get my justice. 

Michelle was the key to everything in my case. Not only was she a surgical nurse at Southland Memorial Hospital, but she was also dating the anesthesiologist for the hospital's plastic surgery unit. She was there in the operating room when my vital signs plunged and I was left in a coma like state.

The State Attorney had granted Michelle immunity in exchange for her testimony. She was safe from prosecution and had already told everything she knew to the prosecutors. Criminal charges were brought against Dr. Robert White shortly after Michelle made her immunity deal. The story went national shortly thereafter and my life was transformed in a profound manner. As the news cycle intensified, Dr. White accepted a plea bargain deal which gave him a year in a minimum security facility and three years probation. He was also forced to surrender his medical license. 

His plea was an admission of liability. After all; the whole world knew that he had almost single handedly killed me through his criminal negligence and then participated in a cover up to conceal his misdeeds. His malpractice insurance company settled out of court with me for a lump sum payment of $1,800,000. Of course my attorney received $600,000 of the award for negotiating the deal, but I also desperately wanted the hospital to pay for their part in this matter. 

On direct examination my attorney, James O'Connor, established to the Court's satisfaction Michelle Liu's identity and her relevance to the case at hand. Her testimony had been rehearsed and it proceeded smoothly. The moment of truth was rapidly approaching. 

Mr. O'Connor asked: "Ms. Liu, will you tell the Court where you were on the evening of Tuesday, March 11, 2003?"

"I was at the home of Dr. Robert White in Huntington Beach."

"Who else was there in addition to yourself Ms. Liu?"

"Robert White was there and Stewart Lyons and his wife Susan were also there."

My attorney pressed on: "Do you remember when you arrived and when you left the house?"

"I arrived at about 10:00 PM and I spent the night. I left the next morning around 9:00AM."

"Was Dr. White with you all night Ms. Liu?"

"Yes he was."

"And was Dr. and Mrs. Lyons there as well for the entire evening?"

Michelle looked at the jury and said: "No they left around 1:00 AM. I remember Dr. Lyons saying that he needed to get some sleep."

"How would you characterize the meeting which took place at Dr. White's house on the evening in question?"

"I would describe it as an intimate party."

Attorney O'Connor looked in the direction of the jury instead of looking at Michelle and asked: "Ms. Liu, did anyone consume or use any intoxicating agents at this party?"

"We all did; Rob and I smoked marijuana and drank wine. Dr. Lyons made and drank several martinis and Susan only drank a little bit of the wine."

Still speaking to the jury he asked a crucial question: "Would you say that either Dr. White or Dr. Lyons was intoxicated?"

"Objection; calls for the witness to render a medical opinion for which she has not been qualified by this court as an expert."

The judge quickly sustained the defendant's objection.

My attorney turned and faced the judge: "Allow me to rephrase your honor. Ms. Liu did you notice anything in the behavior or actions of Dr. White and Dr. Lyons that indicated any impairment of their physical or mental faculties?"

Once again the defendant's attorney objected, but was overruled by the judge. "You may answer the question."

Michelle had been instructed by my attorneys to face the jury when answering important questions on direct. She looked directly at juror number 5 and said: "I didn't see anything in Dr. Lyons' behavior which made me believe he was affected very much by his drinking. He spoke clearly and was alert all night. Stewart, I mean Dr. Lyons, walked straight when he and his wife left. However Rob was slurring his speech and he stumbled twice while getting more wine from the kitchen."

"Would you tell the court how many glasses of wine did Dr. White consume?" 

"I wasn't counting how many glasses Rob drank. However, I know we completely finished three bottles of a very nice merlot that evening. Susan Lyons had two glasses and I had four or maybe five. Rob had the rest. I'm fairly certain that what Susan and I consumed equaled one full bottle and Robert drank about two bottles."

"Previously you said that both Dr. White and yourself used marijuana. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"How much marijuana did Dr. White smoke?"

"I think he rolled about six joints that night. We smoked them all. It was really good stuff. I was feeling very mellow after the first two joints."

These facts were already known. They were the basis of the charges rendered against Dr. White by the State of California. But now my attorney had to prove that the hospital was aware of what Dr. White was doing during his evenings. We had to show the hospital should have known about the doctor's impaired condition.

"Ms. Liu, did Dr. Lyons ever comment on Dr. White's condition that night?"

"Yes he did; Dr. Lyons told Dr. White several times that he should take it easy on the booze. He reminded Dr. White that they had surgery starting at ten the next morning. He also asked Dr. White not to smoke anymore marijuana that night after we did our third joint."

"How did Dr. White respond?"

"He told Dr. Lyons to stop pretending to be his mother. He said he knew his limit."

Mr. O'Connor asked permission to approach the witness before he strode across the courtroom. He spoke softly to Michelle and said: "I know this is going to be difficult but I need to ask you some very personal questions. Is that alright with you Ms. Liu?"

The court reporter looked to the judge and indicated that she could not hear the question. The judge asked Mr. O'Connor to repeat the question so that it could be heard. That was a courtroom tactic which James O'Connor had used at crucial moments. He now had everyone's attention as he repeated the statement. Then his next move was to start a series of questions that would reveal to the jury the scandalous activities which occurred that evening.

"Ms Liu, would you please tell us besides the drinking and drug use what else went on at the party that evening."

This time Michelle kept her eyes lowered. She didn't want to make eye contact with anyone. She spoke softly: "We had sex. It was a party where all of us had sex together."

"I know this is very difficult but could you please tell the court the details of the sexual activity."

Tears formed in Michelle's eyes, but she continued her testimony: "We were all in the living room and at first the guys wanted to watch Susan and me undress each other. They were seated and we stood in front of them and I helped Susan take off her cocktail dress. I think they had just come from dinner at a nice restaurant. I stood behind her and unzipped her dress and helped her take it off. Then I unhooked her bra and slid the straps from her shoulders."

The defendant's attorney quickly stood: "Objection! This testimony has no relevance to the proceeding. It is intended to incite the jury."

My attorney replied: "Foundational evidence your honor, it will demonstrate why the witness was privy to certain information that will prove the knowledge of the defendant's involvement in this matter."

The judge responded by looking to the witness and saying: "Ms. Liu, I am going to ask you to answer Mr. O'Connor's question. But please tell the Court only the details that are necessary for an understanding of the relationships you had with the defendants. Do you understand my instructions?"

"Yes your honor."

"Then proceed."

"Mrs. Lyons and I had sex after we undressed each other. The men watched and drank while we made love. Then Stew, I mean Dr. Lyons, undressed and I performed oral sex on him. Dr. White undressed and got behind me and started having intercourse with me while I was still having the oral sex with Dr. Lyons."

"Was that how the party ended Ms. Liu?"

"Oh no it kept on going. The guys wanted Susan to repeat what I had just done except that Susan gave Rob a blow job; I mean the oral sex. Rob was on the edge of his chair and Susan got on her hands and knees and............."

Another objection rang out and the judge interrupted Michelle's testimony: "We don't need to know that much detail Ms. Liu. Please just state what sex acts occurred and who participated."

Michelle sat silently for about ten seconds and then said: "I think I had intercourse two times with Dr. White and I'm sure I had intercourse with Dr. Lyons only once. I performed oral sex on Dr. Lyons and Susan Lyons once each, and twice with Dr. White. I had oral sex performed on me once each by Susan Lyons and Dr. Lyons and three times by Dr. White."

"Why did you have sex with Dr. White so many more times than with Dr. Lyons and his wife?"

"Because after the Lyons' left for the evening Rob wanted to party some more. He and I continued until around 4:30AM when I just couldn't do it anymore. I was exhausted."

"Was Dr. White also tired?"

"Objection; calls for the witness to render an opinion on a medical condition."

"Sustained, please rephrase the question."

Attorney O'Connor asked: "Did Dr. White say he was tired?"

"Yes he did." Michelle then stated to the best of her recollection that his exact words were: "Thank god you can't do it again baby. There is no way that I'm getting hard again tonight. I'm so fucked up right now I just have to get some sleep."

The judge looked at the Courtroom clock and said: "We are going to stop for lunch. Court will be in recess until 1:30." 

*

Chapter 2

Elizabeth West sat across from me in the rather stark room located next to the bailiff's quarters. My attorney had arranged for us to have this small room everyday during the trial so that I wouldn't have to face the press at lunch time. Liz was now the center of my life. When I had been helpless she was always there. It was always her reassuring voice that told me I would be better soon. Her tender touch on my limp body pulled me back from the despair I suffered for those long days and nights two years ago. 

Standing 5'5 and weighing 126 pounds, Liz had a wonderfully feminine body. She was going to be 30 years old in a few months but most people thought she looked 25. Her golden blonde hair draped down onto her shoulders. Liz's face was nicely tanned which along with her glistening white teeth and her sparkling blue eyes made her look like a California surfer girl. And in fact that was exactly what she loved to do in her spare time. 

Until a few months ago Liz was a registered nurse at the Irvine Care Center. She had been in charge of the graveyard shift. It was there that Liz was with me every evening for months. I had lived in a world of darkness because I couldn't open my eyes without help. I could see light if a doctor or nurse held my eyelids open but even then I couldn't focus and everything was a blur. I didn't need my eyes to function for me to picture Elizabeth's beauty. I had previously known her and I could always picture her face in my mind. However, I needed to hear her voice and feel her touch because they were my sustenance. She was the one who helped me to fight my way back from the edge of insanity. There were other nurses and orderlies at Irvine Care, and most of them had been respectful of my needs while I was comatose. But it was always Elizabeth who I wanted to care for me.

The trial had triggered so many memories in the past few days. I frequently remembered the horror of being trapped in my immobilized body. And I also remembered the insensitivity of some of the doctors and nurses as they referred to me as a lost cause. Of course I also remembered the man I lived with and how he abandoned me in my darkest hour. 

I was glad that my parents didn't have to endure my many months of being in a vegetative state. I think it would have hurt them profoundly. My father, Vincent Velarde, had died when I was 6 years old. He was a construction worker and was killed when a partially completed roof caved in. My mom, Pamela Velarde, died in 1999 of ovarian cancer. The death of my parents, who were both loving and caring people, truly tested my faith in God. I had been left alone in an often hostile world. I needed my faith to be restored.

One of the many side effects from my long ordeal still haunted me. I frequently experienced hallucinations. I was having difficulty differentiating those daydreams from reality. They often seemed absolutely real to me. And at other times I experienced flashbacks. I would relive something that happened to me in my past. It was always very confusing. Luckily for me Liz was with me and she generally knew when I was "tripping" as she called it. She was the one who would snap me out of it.

I relaxed for a moment and watched Liz fidget with some sandwiches. The room had no windows and the temperature seemed quite warm. It was probably somewhere in the 76 to 78 degree range. It was just right for me to slip from reality once again.

Suddenly, I found myself seated outside the Courthouse next to Court TV's Beth Karas. A makeup girl was fixing Beth's blonde hair and powdering her face. I was wired for an interview and could hear the voice of Nancy Grace through my earpiece. A field producer was waiving his arms and pointing to us as we heard Nancy make an introduction: "We have a special treat for you viewers this afternoon. Our Beth Karas has arranged for an exclusive interview with Christine Velarde outside the Orange County Courthouse in sunny southern California."

Ms. Karas looked into the camera and spoke: "Thank you Nancy, I'm very fortunate to have Christine Velarde seated next to me today. As you viewers know Christine experienced a living nightmare just over two years ago. She suffered from a coma like form of paralysis as a result of the negligence of an intoxicated anesthesiologist. Dr. Robert White has already pleaded guilty to charges brought against him regarding the injuries suffered by Ms. Velarde. She is now suing the hospital here in civil court."

Beth then slightly shifted her body and looked away from the camera and back toward me and asked: "Christine all of our viewers are wondering how you are feeling now?"

"I'm doing better and better with time. I have fully recovered my physical functionality but I still suffer from hallucinations."

"Christine, some of our viewers are not familiar with you and your background could you tell them just a little bit about yourself and the events that led up to your surgery."

"Well Beth I'm now 26 years old. I was born and raised here in California and love just about everything that California offers a person my age, that is except for the traffic. I graduated from UCLA when I was 22 and landed a great job with a Fortune 500 company in their Human Resources Department."

Beth pressed on for more personal information: "Why did you decide to have elective breast surgery Christine? And were you aware of the risks associated with that type of operation?"

"The reason for wanting breast augmentation surgery centered about my relationship with my boyfriend at that time. I met and fell in love with Rick Winters almost three years ago. He was considerably older than me since he was 31 when we started dating. But he was handsome and he was financially secure. He was a mortgage broker and when interest rates fell in 2002 he started doing lots of refinances. In fact he was making over $50,000 a month. By the start of 2003, his business was a huge success. Rick had a beautiful home in Costa Mesa and after dating for a few months he asked me to move in with him. I think he enjoyed having a beautiful young girl on his arm when he went out and met with his friends. I had the pretty face he wanted in a girlfriend and I was tall and thin. There was just one deficiency that Rick felt I should do something about. That deficiency was my chest size. I was 5'9 and weighed 120 pounds; but sadly my bra size was 34A back then. Many of my friends would comment that I looked just like Barbara Feldon in the "Get Smart" reruns. I have always kept my brown hair cut fairly short and I had bangs coming down on my forehead. My bangs were quite similar to those that Barbara was famous for."

"Christine you do look just like Barbara in her role as Agent 99. Even your green eyes are a perfect match to the way I remember her."

"Thanks Beth, it was difficult to stay in shape after my coma. But now I'm working out again everyday."

"Well you look wonderful Christine. So was it your boyfriend who wanted you to have the surgery?" 

"Yes, shortly after I moved in with Rick he started suggesting that I should get my boobs done. He of course wanted to pay and have it done by the very best plastic surgeon in the area. I resisted at first because I had always been scared of hospitals. But he kept telling me how sexy I would look and how much it would please him if......"

A familiar voice was calling me: "Chris.....Chris....are you tripping?"

Then without any warning I shifted in time and place, I was no longer speaking Beth Karas outside the courthouse; instead I was in a beautiful room at the Saint Francis Hotel located in San Francisco. 

I thought to myself that I must be having a flashback. This was where Rick had taken me two and a half years ago. In fact it was that very night in San Francisco when I finally decided to have my boobs done. Rick had taken me with him to a mortgage brokers conference.

There were so many fine shops located around Union Square for me to browse and shop in while Rick attended his meetings. I picked out a beautiful dress to wear that evening since Rick had made reservations at Scoma's Restaurant down on Fisherman's Wharf. 




Voices in the Darkness



Rick looked so handsome that evening. He had invited another mortgage broker and his wife, which he had just met at the conference, to join us that evening. They were a pleasant couple and it was nice to have them join us. Their names were John and Amber Hines. John was an average looking middle aged guy. Amber on the other hand was a voluptuous 25 year old blonde. They had been married for less than a year and Amber was John's second wife. She had a huge diamond on her finger and she wore a designer gown. This woman could have easily been a Playboy centerfold with her good looks and sexy body. She certainly knew how to make the most of her 36D bust.

As dinner progressed I noticed that my boyfriend couldn't keep his eyes off of Amber's low cut dress. Her cleavage was the focus of his attention. At one point I actually leaned over and whispered: "Darling, you're staring, please don't do that."

Rick behaved himself somewhat after that but he was clearly attracted to her large breasts. It worried me knowing that I was just the opposite of Amber and that Rick was swimming in money as his mortgage business was growing. He could afford a girl like Amber if he wanted her.

After dinner the four of us took a cab to Nob Hill. We stopped and got out at the Mark Hopkins Hotel. John Hines had insisted that we see the view from The Top of the Mark. It was a beautiful lounge with a live jazz band playing. The view of San Francisco and the bay was breathtaking. The lights twinkled and we could see ships moving under the bridge. We drank and danced past midnight. 

John was a good dancer and he held me close. I could feel his strength as he pulled me up against his masculine body. I was also quite certain that I could feel his manhood harden and grow as our bodies moved together in time with the soft jazz. He whispered in my ear: "You are very beautiful Christine. I haven't been able to take my eyes off you all night."

I looked up and into his eyes and replied: "Oh John, you are just saying that to make me feel good. I'm not half as beautiful as your lovely wife." I looked over and saw Rick and Amber dancing across from us. Rick had his right hand on Amber's ass and he had her mammoth boobs crushed up against his chest.

John pressed up against me even tighter and said: "You know Christine; you don't have to be jealous of Amber's boobs. I paid for them right before we married. You could have yours done too. Rick told me that he has offered to pay for your surgery. I think you would look like a million dollars with bigger boobs."

"I can't believe that Rick would tell you that." 

John slightly loosened his grip on me and said: "Oh don't worry Christine, it was just two guys talking about their girls. I told him about Amber's operation and how amazing she looks now since she went from a "B" cup to a "D" cup. I think that's why your boyfriend invited us to dinner. I'm pretty sure he wanted to see how Amber looked."

"Well John, based on how your wife is dancing with Rick it appears that he is getting to make a very close inspection of them."

"May I tell you a secret Christine?"

I'm sure I had a puzzled look on my face but I said: "Certainly, I won't tell anyone."

My dancing partner then said: "I'm a voyeur; I like to watch my lovely wife expose herself to other men or other women. I also enjoy watching her make love to them."

He pulled back and waited for my reaction. 

I didn't know what to say so I finally just said: "Wow."

"If you don't mind Christine I would like Amber to show you and Rick her body. I have a room here and it would please me so much if you two would join us in our room tonight."

I was shocked and momentarily stunned by what John had just said. I must have looked like a deer in his headlights. I was frozen in place. Finally I muttered: "I don't know John; I think you should ask Rick instead of me."

John held my hand and walked me across the dance floor to where Rick and Amber were locked in a tight embrace while they slowly danced. John tapped my boyfriend on his shoulder and asked them to join us at a table.

As Rick separated from Amber I couldn't help but notice the large bulge which had formed in his trousers. It appeared to me he was at full staff. He must have been grinding his hard-on into Amber's body because she appeared to be blushing as they walked with us to our table.

I sat close to Rick and listened as John explained how he wanted us to join him and his sexy wife in their room for some "show and tell". I immediately sensed that Rick wanted to do this but he was smart enough to ask me: "What do you think Chris? Do you want to do it babe?"

I really didn't want any part of it, but I did want to please my guy so I said: "If you want to look it's alright with me darling; but no touching."

Well that gave Rick the green light he desired so John settled the bar tab and we headed down the elevator to the tenth floor. The Hines' room was beautiful. It had a sitting area and a large king sized bed. It looked like the bathroom was done in white marble. It was a magnificent room.

Rick and I sat on the sofa in the sitting area. I wanted to be close to Rick so he wouldn't forget that I was there. I leaned into his left shoulder and rested my head up against him. John sat in an arm chair to my left and he watched our every movement. Then Amber approached us and started a very seductive striptease. After watching her begin to slither out of her dress I whispered into Rick's ear: "She must have done this professionally." 

I realized that Amber must have worked at a strip club in the past. That is probably where John met her. I also knew that lots of strippers were bi-sexual, and I didn't want her rubbing her body on me. I was straight and a good Catholic girl. Sure I had some erotic dreams in the past that involved me kissing girls, but I only dated boys. 

John and Rick were watching Amber disrobe. I watched too but I was primarily interested in her technique as I thought maybe I could imitate it and surprise Rick sometime in the future. But I must say it was very erotic. I actually started feeling sexual excitement building up in my body. It just seemed so strange that I would react to a woman's body that way.

She stepped out of her dress directly in front of us and then turned and faced away. She bent her knees and her body descended down so that her back was directly in front of me. I heard Amber ask: "Christine would you please unhook my bra?"

The clasp was only inches from me so I reached forward and unhooked all three rows of hooks. That was something I never had to deal with. They only put two rows of hooks on small cup bras like the ones I wore. And I didn't even have to wear a bra with many of the fashions that were in style then. In fact I wasn't wearing a bra that evening and I could feel my nipples harden as I unhooked Amber's bra.

She turned back around and allowed the lacy bra to fall to the floor. Her breasts were very large. They looked good but I could tell they were fake. Breasts that large can't defy gravity very long and hers were still pointed out. But I couldn't see any scars and her nipples were hardening as everyone's excitement built.

Amber looked at Rick and asked: "Would you please help me pull down my panties Rick?"

He scooted forward and slipped his thumbs under the elastic band of her small silk panties. She wiggled her hips as he slid them down her thighs. As he lowered them closer to the carpeted floor she stepped out of them one step at a time. That left my boyfriend holding her panties.

Amber looked seductively at Rick and said: "I'm afraid my panties might be wet Rick. I just go so excited when dancing with you earlier. I kept feeling your big hard cock up against my body. Maybe you might like to sniff them?"

I watched in disbelief as the guy I was living with took this stripper's panties and raised them to his face and inhaled her aroma. 

She still had on a pair of silky thigh highs and her heels. But the rest of her body was naked. Amber shaved most of her pubic hair but did leave a strip of trimmed hair above her slit. I knew she was not a real blonde. Her bush was as dark as mine. The funny thing was that she shaved her bush almost the exact same way I shaved mine.

John was enjoying the show from his chair. He had not spoken a word since Amber started her striptease, but now he wanted things to go further: "Rick, I bet you are rock hard by now buddy. Why don't you stand up and pull those pants of yours down. I'm sure you would be more comfortable if you released that big snake."

Once again I was stunned as Rick stood and quickly unbuckled his belt and then unzipped his pants. Then in one motion he pulled his trousers and his boxers down to his ankles. He was hard and sticking straight out. The tip of his cockhead was wet with his precum.

I grabbed Rick's left thigh with my hands and said: "Sit down darling."

He came to his senses and sat back down besides me. However his cock was still exposed and it was pointing at Amber. She looked at it and licked her lips before saying: "That looks yummy Rick. Do you want me to lick it for you?"

I couldn't let this slut suck my man's cock right in front of me. I took my boyfriends ridged pole in my right hand and then I looked straight at Amber and said: "I don't think so; this is my property." I started stroking him slowly to keep his interest on my hand rather than her mouth. Amber then knelt directly in front of Rick. Her body was touching his legs and she rested her huge tits on Rick's knees. 

John then said: "Christine why don't you make Rick cum on Amber's boobs. I'm certain that he needs relief."

I thought for a second how perverse this whole situation had become but it seemed that if I jerked him off on her boobs then maybe we would be able to leave. So I started stroking him faster. He was already extremely hard and I knew he was just about ready to explode from his sexual excitement. Amber started to pinch her nipples and was begging Rick to cum on her.

He moaned with pleasure and asked me: "Is it alright babe? I'm so close. May I cum on her tits?"

"Yes darling." I picked up my tempo and 20 seconds later I felt a surge moving up and out of his cock. His hot cum shot right into the gap forming Amber's ample cleavage. His next blast hit her left nipple perfectly and the third rope of cum hit slightly higher. I kept on pumping him but the force of his remaining shots was less and it mostly landed on Rick's leg and my hand.

As I let go of my boyfriend's softening tool Amber grabbed my hand. I was totally unprepared for that, and before I could stop her she was sucking Rick's still warm cum off my fingers. She took one finger after another and shoved them into her wet mouth. She didn't stop until my fingers were completely sucked clean. Then she flattened my hand and licked my palm for the rest of Rick's precious bodily fluid.

Amber looked up at me and smiled: "You're lucky Christine. Rick's cum is so yummy."

I wanted out of there. "Darling, I think we need to go now. Please darling." I was basically pleading with him.

Rick asked Amber to excuse him as he needed to stand. He pulled his pants up and we said our goodbyes. I was never so glad to be out of a place as I was to be out of John and Amber Hines' hotel room.

We had the bellman hail a cab for us and we headed back to the Saint Francis and the sanity of our own room. I snuggled close to Rick and asked him in a hushed voice: "Darling, you weren't going to let that slut suck your cock were you?"

We kept our voices low so the cabby couldn't hear us. He replied: "No babe. She was a slut just like you said. Why would I do that with her when I have you?"

"I just thought you really liked her big boobs. And maybe you just wanted to see what it was like with a girl who had tits like hers."

Rick put his arm around me before saying: "You know I like big boobies Christine so you can't complain about me wanting to see hers. If you got yours done then you wouldn't have to worry about me looking at other girls."

That was it; if I wanted him I had to do it: "Alright darling I will get my boobs done. I'm not going to get them as big as Amber's were, but maybe a "C" cup. Would that make you happy darling?"

He kissed me and then said: "That would make me very happy babe. But I would be even happier if you would get the "D" cups."

When we returned to our room we made love for over an hour. Rick was like an animal and he gave me two thundering orgasms. 

*

Chapter 3

"Do you want any mayo or just mustard on your sandwich Chris?"

I was off in my own world of hallucinations and old memories. Then I heard her again: "Earth to Christine Velarde.....This is Earth to Christine.....Come in please."

Liz was laughing and looking at me with a questioning expression on her sweet face. "Where were you space cadet Velarde?"

I finally snapped out of my trance like state and said: "Just mustard please; mayo will make me fat."

"What were you thinking about Chris? You tripped out again for a few minutes."

I could tell from the look on her face that Liz was somewhat worried about me. I replied: "Oh Liz, I was having some more strange dreams and flashbacks. At first I thought I was giving another interview to a reporter and then a few seconds later I was reliving the night that I let Rick talk me into getting my implants." 

"Wasn't that the night you almost had your first lesbian experience?"

"Well I guess it was, but that girl was a nasty slut. I didn't like her and would have never kissed anyone like that."

Liz could see I had returned to normal again, so she decided to have some fun with me: "Come on Chris, admit it, you wanted to go down on her pussy. Didn't you?"

"Oh god, you are so sick Elizabeth. If you would have seen this whore you would have run for your life. And I had to watch her strip. I even had to unhook her nasty bra. It was awful."

I was never going to admit to my sexy girlfriend that watching Amber Hines perform her striptease actually had been a turn on. I couldn't admit that it stirred something deep inside me. It was ironic that I couldn't seem to tell my girlfriend the truth. Liz had been a lesbian since her college days and she was completely capable of understanding how confusing the realization of one's sexuality could be. But I still couldn't confess to her how watching a stripper had made me question my sexual orientation.

"So you didn't like that stripper with the big boobs, but I know you liked the nurse at the plastic surgeon's office."

My mind once again raced back to 2003. I was in Dr. Stewart Lyon's examining room. Dr. Lyons was looking at my file and his nurse Jill Peters was assisting me with a robe. The doctor was highly recommended by Rick's friends and associates. And the time had come for my actual examination.

Dr. Lyons was a very nice looking man. He was about 40 years old and stood about 6 feet tall. It looked like he stayed in good shape and he had short blonde hair which he combed forward. His hair style actually made him look quite young and hip.

Jill Peters was closer to my age. I guessed her to be 24. She was average height and thin. She had a very sexy figure because of her large chest. Jill had medium length light brown hair and blue eyes. She was a very pretty girl.

After Dr. Lyons had reviewed my file he turned to me and said: "Hello Christine, I'm Dr. Lyons. I understand you would like a breast augmentation."

"Yes Dr. Lyons, as you can see I'm very flat chested and would like to have a more feminine figure."

"Well Christine I'm sure we can help you. I'm going to ask you to remove the robe now so I may examine your breasts. Nurse Peters will be with us during the examination."

Jill came over besides me and asked: "Would you please stand up Christine? Please don't be nervous. Dr. Lyons will be very careful when he touches your breasts."

I stood and removed the thin cotton robe which had covered my body. My small breasts were completely exposed to the doctor and his nurse. Dr. Lyons took a step closer to me and said: "Christine I'm going to touch your breast tissue and the muscles under them to determine which surgical solution will be best for your body. I need to determine whether we will place the implants under the muscles or over them. In addition we need to determine the maximum size implants your body could accommodate. Finally I will determine the best point of entry to insert the implants."

I watched as he touched my small breasts. My nipples hardened as he examined me. I could feel him massage the muscles in my chest under my breasts. It took about two minutes but it seemed like much longer. He also measured my breasts carefully and called out numbers in centimeters to his nurse who was recording each of his measurements.

Finally Dr. Lyons looked at me and said: "All right Christine, I have good news for you. Your body is perfect for breast augmentation. Although your breasts are small they have a very attractive shape and you have very good muscle tone. I believe with your height and frame that you will look wonderful after the procedure is completed. I'm going to use a marker to draw on your breasts to show you what I would like to do."

He spoke as he drew lines and dots on my breasts. He explained that he wanted to make the incision through the bottom of my nipples where the scar would be virtually invisible in the raised and pigmented skin of my areolas. Finally he said that the implants would look best if placed under the muscles in my chest.

Dr. Lyons looked at me and asked: "Do you have any questions Christine?"

"Yes, Dr. Lyons, I have two questions. How big are you planning on making my breasts and will I still have full sensitivity in my nipples?"

"Those are excellent questions Christine. Let's look at these sample implants I have over here. I have them arranged in size starting with a large "B" and then a small "C" and a full "C" and on up. Based on my examination you could go as high as a full "D". However, I need to caution you against the "D" cup implants since that would require you to jump three cup sizes from your current full "A" in one surgery. Most patients have difficulty adjusting to augmentations of more than two cup sizes at once. Go ahead and hold some of them up to your breasts and look in the mirror."

They all looked big but the "D" cup implants were huge. I couldn't even begin to imagination those on my chest 24 hours a day. I think I liked the large "B" the best but I knew Rick would be disappointed. So I compromised and pointed to the full "C": "I think I like these Dr. Lyons."

"That is an excellent choice Christine, but your body could also accommodate the large "C" if you want to be just a little bigger. That is what Jill has. She was a small "B" before her surgery. Now look at her figure. Isn't she beautiful?"

"She does look good Dr. Lyons."

Jill spoke up: "Thank you Christine. Would you like to see my breasts so you know how I looked after the surgery? I don't mind showing you."

I looked to Dr. Lyons and asked: "Is that alright if she shows me?"

"Of course it is; Jill's breasts are some of my best work."

Just then the phone in the examining room rang and Dr. Lyons answered. After about twenty seconds he told someone that he would be right there. He looked to me and said: "Christine, I'm sorry but I need to take an emergency call in my office. If you would please wait for me I will be back in about ten minutes. And if Jill wants to let you see the results of her surgery from last year please go ahead. You can ask her anything you want." He then left the examining room and closed the door for our privacy.

Jill looked at me and asked: "Do you want to wait or do you want to see my boobs before the doctor returns?"




Voices in the Darkness



"Are you sure you don't mind Jill?"

"I'm not shy about my body. Besides you're already topless Christine."

I looked down and realized that I was still completely exposed. All I had on was my panties. I looked back at her and said: "I would love to see how your surgery turned out Jill."

As Jill undressed she told me that we had very similar bodies before the operation. She unzipped and stepped out of her white dress. She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. Before removing it she looked at me and asked: "Are you ready?"

I nodded my approval and then she took it off. Her breasts were large and looked very natural. They looked nearly perfect at first glance. She looked at me and said: "Tah-Dah"

She cupped them both in her hands and squeezed them gently: "Well what do you think Christine?"

"I think they are so sexy Jill. They look so natural. Do they feel real?"

Jill looked up and said: "I think they do. Would you like to feel mine so you will know what yours will feel like after your operation?"

"Oh, would you really let me do that Jill? That would be wonderful. I never felt another girl's boobs so I really only know how mine feel."

Jill walked closer to me and with her left hand she guided my right hand to her breast. She told me to feel it and squeeze it. Without her asking I also lifted my left hand and started to touch her other breast. I could feel her nipples harden as I touched her soft but firm breasts.

Jill watched as I manipulated her large breasts with my hands. "Don't they feel good Christine?" Before I could answer she spoke again: "I have an idea; stand behind me and reach around and cup my boobs. That way it will feel more natural for you. It would be like touching your own breasts."

I did as she said. In fact I think I would have done anything she said at that moment. I moved behind her and started to reach around. I had to press up tight against her bare back so I could fully reach her breasts. I cupped them both. My own nipples were very hard and I was sure that Jill could feel them pressing into her back.

"Christine, you asked the doctor if you would lose any sensitivity in your nipples after the operation. I know I didn't. Pinch my nipples and see what happens."

I took both of her nipples between my index fingers and thumbs. They were already hard but instantly became even harder and more swollen. I pinched and pulled on her two sensitive nubs and I felt them swell with her excitement.

"Oh Christine, that feels wonderful. Please don't stop."

I didn't want to stop; my body was alive and tingling with sexual energy. I whispered into her ear as I rested my chin on her soft shoulder: "Jill your nipples are so hard."

"Have you ever kissed a girl Christine?"

"Well, not really Jill."

Jill placed her hands on top of mine and started to pull my fingers from her magnificent breasts and said: "I would like to kiss you Christine; may I?"

Without hesitation I said yes. She turned and we embraced. Our bodies molded together as our mouths met. Our tongues instantly touched and we kissed deeply and passionately. I felt Jill's right hand move from my back and start to pry its way between our bodies. She quickly found one of my swollen nipples and she pinched it. The feeling was pure magic. I could hardly believe what I was doing. But it all felt wonderful.

Then there was a knock on the door. We broke from our kiss and embrace. "May I come in?" asked Dr. Lyons.

Jill answered: "Just one second Doctor. I was showing Christine where you made the incision for my implants." A few seconds passed as Jill gathered her clothes. "All right you may come in now doctor."

Jill had her back to the doctor and was hooking her bra back together. He looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. I looked down at my naked body and realized that many of the markings he made on my breasts had become smeared. Then he just smiled and said: "Well Christine, what did you think of Jill's implants?"

"They looked so real Dr. Lyons. I hope mine look that good."

"They will Christine. Now did you decide on going to the large "C" like Jill or do you still want the full "C"?"

"I still think I will stick with my original choice. I want to be able to jog and stay in shape afterwards so I just don't want to become to large there."

"You're going to look like a Hollywood starlet Christine. I think I'm going to have to get a red carpet for your unveiling after your recuperation."

Dr. Lyons was sweet and made me feel good about what I was doing. Then he said: "I'm going to leave you with Jill. She will help you clean off the markings I made on your breasts. If you have any questions feel free to call me. I would like to schedule your surgery for Wednesday, March 12th. That's just two weeks from today Christine. Are you excited about getting your new breasts?"

"Oh yes, I'm very excited right now." What I didn't tell Dr. Lyons was why I was so excited. My body was still tingling from the kiss I shared with Jill.

We watched Dr. Lyons leave the room and close the door behind him. Jill had put her dress back on and had a wash cloth and a pan of warm water: "Let me help you Christine. I hope you're not upset with me for having kissed you earlier. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry if I offended you."

I looked at her as she started washing the markings off my skin with the warm damp cloth: "I kissed you back Jill. I wanted to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss me. It was pure magic. Jill, I still want to kiss you."

She continued to caress one of my sensitive nipples with the warm towel and she leaned in again and we resumed our kiss which had been interrupted earlier. This time I didn't want to be stopped. I had completely forgotten everything I had learned from my Catholic faith. I didn't care if this was a sin; I just wanted to be with Jill. I wanted her lips on my lips. I wanted her hand on my nipple and I wanted her tongue in my mouth.

Jill broke our kiss and leaned down. I couldn't believe it but she kissed my nipples. It felt so good too. I looked at her and asked: "Would you please suck on them Jill?"

She did as I asked and alternated sucking them both. She even gave them little bites. I was actually nearing orgasm from just having my nipples done. I wanted Jill to take me over the edge of sexual excitement. I wanted her to make me cum.

Once again I heard a knock on the door and then a female voice: "Jill we need the examination room. How much longer do you and Christine need?"

Jill responded: "She's getting dressed now. Just a couple of more minutes please."

Jill looked at me and said: "I'm so sorry Christine, but we have to stop. Now let's get you dressed. 

She could see that I was very disappointed and then she said: "I have an idea; we could hook up tonight. I'm going out with some of my nursing friends around seven o'clock and we could all get together at Dave and Buster's in Orange. It's located right off the 22 Freeway in The Block. It's a fun place and I'm sure you would like my friends. They are all about our age."

"That sounds like fun Jill. I will try and catch you there."

Jill kissed me softly on the lips and then I dressed and had to leave.

Once again I snapped back to reality as I heard Liz speaking to me: "Here is your sandwich Chris." Liz handed me the paper plate with a thin sliced turkey sandwich."

"Did I drift off again on you Liz?"

My blonde surfer girlfriend smiled at me and asked: "What were you thinking about this time?"

"I was remembering when I met Jill. She was the first girl I kissed."

"Did she kiss you as well as I kiss you lover?"

"Liz, you have nothing to worry about darling. You're my only lover now. It's just that a first kiss is always special. And besides if it weren't for Jill we might not have ever met." 

*

Chapter 4

Court was called back into session and Michelle Liu retook the witness stand. My attorney stood and resumed his direct examination.

"Ms. Liu, you previously stated here under oath that you spent the entire evening with Dr. White on Tuesday, March 11, 2003. Is that correct?"

"Yes it is."

"You also testified you remained at Dr. White's residence the morning of Wednesday, March 12, 2003. Is that also correct?"

"Yes that is also correct."

"Ms. Liu, would you please tell the Court the condition of Dr. White on that Wednesday morning."

Once again the defendant's attorney objected. My attorney countered by stating that her eyewitness testimony did not require a license to practice medicine. He also reminded the court that Ms. Liu was a surgical nurse and was experienced at evaluating levels of alertness in patients. The judge overruled the objection.

Michelle once again faced the jury and said: "It was very difficult to wake Dr. White that morning. I got up at 7:30AM when the alarm clock woke me. However I couldn't get Rob out of bed until to 8:40AM. He just refused to get up until then. We should have left for the hospital by no later than 8:30AM so we were already late by the time he woke up."

"How would you describe Dr. White's behavior once you did get him out of bed that morning?"

"He was very grumpy and ordered me to get him some coffee. He also looked like he was still half asleep as he was dressing himself."

Mr. O'Connor had a puzzled look on his face and asked: "What made you think he was still half asleep?"

"Well he fell down while trying to put his pants on. First he put his foot in the wrong leg hole and then when he tried to pull his pants up he fell backward onto the bed. It would have been funny if we weren't so late."

"What time did you finally leave for the hospital?"

"It was just past nine. We arrived at Southland at exactly 9:35AM. We were both late and immediately had to prep for Ms. Velarde's surgery which was booked for ten."

"Did you have time to fully prepare for her procedure Ms. Liu?"

Michelle looked directly at me as she spoke: "I'm very sorry to say I didn't. I wish there was something I could do to take back the pain and suffering we caused you Christine. I'm very sorry."

"Did Dr. White have enough time to prepare for the operation before it began?"

"Objection, calls for a medical opinion for which this witness has not been qualified as an expert."

The judge quickly sustained the defendant's objection.

"Ms. Liu, did Dr. White tell you that he didn't have enough time to prepare for Christine Velarde's operation?"

"Yes he told me that he didn't have time to take her vitals and review her blood work."

"Is that a serious breach of protocol Ms........"

Before the question was finished another loud objection was raised: "Please your honor, would you please instruct counsel to desist in asking this witness questions which require her to be certified by this Court as an expert."

The judge sustained the objection and said: "Mr. O'Connor, please refrain from asking this witness any more questions which would require a medical opinion being part of her testimony."

"I'm sorry your honor; I will attempt to be more careful."

My attorney readdressed the witness and continued his questions: "Would you tell the jury how Dr. White reacted when Ms. Velarde's vital signs showed signs of her distress."

"I couldn't tell how closely Rob was monitoring her vitals. I was busy, but when the blood pressure monitor alarm sounded he seemed to panic."

"What do you mean by panic?"

"Well he shouted out something like: "What the shit is this?" and then he tried to inject her with adrenaline but he couldn't insert the needle into Christine's intravenous tube. His hands were shaking to badly."

"What happened after he couldn't perform the injection?"

"Dr. Lyons started cursing at Dr. White and then he took the syringe and injected her directly with the adrenaline."

"Do you remember what Dr. Lyons said?"

"I will never forget it, he yelled: "You god damn drunk, you killed her." He pushed Dr. White out of the way and started the resuscitation protocols."

My attorney in a clear voice prefaced his next question by saying: "My next question is extremely important Ms. Liu, so I want you to think carefully about it."

"I will." She said.

"Did Dr. Stewart ever say anything else to you prior to Ms. Velarde's surgery that would have indicated his state of mind concerning Dr. White's drinking and competency to operate?"

"Yes he did. About nine months before Christine's operation I also had breast augmentation surgery. Dr. White and I were romantically involved as I testified earlier. He and Stewart were good friends and Rob said that Dr. Lyons would do my augmentation for free if I wanted."

"How did that occurrence give you any insight into Dr. Lyons' state of mind regarding Robert White's abilities?"

"This occurred before Dr. Lyons and his wife Susan started swinging with us. So when I first met him in his examining room he was very professional. He performed a standard examination with his nurse attending, and he said wonderful things about Robert. But after the exam I met with him in his private office. He told me that Rob had shared with him some of our sexual history together. Dr. Lyons said that he didn't have a very satisfactory sex life with his wife and that he was interested in a casual sexual relationship with someone sexy like me."

"Did you and Dr. Lyons develop a sexual relationship after that first meeting?"

"Yes we did. At first I was very appreciative of the fact that he was going to do my surgery free of charge. And also Stewart was a good looking man. I liked him very much. So we had an affair. Stewart got us a room at the St. Regis Monarch Beach Resort near Dana Point and we had an entire weekend to ourselves. We had lots of sex but we also had lots of time to just talk."

"And did any of those conversations concern Dr. White's abilities in the operating room?"

"Yes they did. Stewart warned me not to let Rob drink the night before my operation. He warned me that when Rob drank to much he wasn't very careful the next morning with the patients. Stewart told me that he had to intervene previously and correct mistakes that Rob had made."

"Was there anything else he told you about Dr. White?"

"Dr. Lyons told me that the hospital's Chief of Surgery had said he was going to fire Dr. White."

"Objection! Hearsay."

"Sustained, the jury will disregard the witness's previous statement."

"Ms. Liu, did Dr. Brian Edwards, Chief of Surgery for Southland Memorial Hospital, ever tell you directly that he intended to fire Dr. Robert White?"

Michelle looked directly at juror number 8 who had been following her testimony very carefully and she replied: "Yes, Dr. Edwards told me that to my face."

"Please tell the court where and when that conversation took place."

"It happened at Rob's house a week before Christine's surgery. Rob and I were involved in another "wife swapping or swingers" party. That time Dr. Edwards and his wife Teresa were our guests."

"Were there any drugs and alcohol at that party?"

"Yes, Rob had the bar fully stocked and he also rolled some joints."

"Do you mean marijuana when you said rolled some joints?"

"Yes he smoked marijuana. He also drank so much that he passed out around 1:00AM."

"Was Dr. Edwards still there when Dr. White passed out?"

"He was, but Dr. Edwards and Teresa left shortly thereafter. Brian told me as I walked to the car with him and his wife that Rob needed to get his drinking under control or that he wasn't going to be working for the hospital much longer."

Were there any other occasions when Dr. Edwards said anything to you about the way he regarded Dr. White's consumption of alcohol?"

"Well Dr. Edwards and I did have sex a few times just by ourselves. He would come over to my apartment on days that Rob was in surgery and I was not working. We got together a few times that way. And he would always refer to Rob as either a drunk or an alcoholic."

"Did he say anything else about him?"

"Once Brian said he was amazed that Rob had not killed anyone in his operating room yet."

My attorney was ready to move in for the kill: "Ms. Liu was there a time after Christine Velarde's surgery when Dr. Brian Edwards and Dr. Stewart Lyons approached you and asked you to do something for them?"

"By the next day everyone in the hospital knew that Christine was comatose. That afternoon Dr. Edwards called me and requested that I meet with him and Dr. Lyons at the hospital."

"Was Dr. White present at that meeting?"

"No it was just the three of us and we met in Dr. Edward's office."

"Please tell the Court what was said at that meeting."

"Dr. Edwards asked me what I saw happen in the operating room. I told him I wasn't really watching Dr. White because I was busy assisting Dr. Lyons. I did tell Dr. Edwards how much difficulty Rob had in trying to inject Christine with the adrenaline. He also asked me if Rob had been drinking and doing drugs the night before. I told him he had done both. Dr. Edwards then asked Dr. Lyons lots of questions. Finally, right before the meeting ended Dr. Edwards instructed me not to speak to anyone other than him or Dr. Lyons about what happened both at the hospital and at Dr. White's house. He said that we could all be held financially responsible and possibly criminally responsible if this information ever got out to the authorities."

"Did you agree to abide by Dr. Edwards instructions?"

Michelle was crying as she spoke: "I'm terribly sorry to say that I did agree to it. It was wrong because I knew the truth and I failed to come forward promptly. I felt very sorry and guilty for what happened to Christine. I visited her bedside often and it broke my heart seeing her like that. Finally, when I saw Dr. White giving an interview to a local TV reporter and not telling the truth about what happened; I just had to tell what I knew even if I did end up in jail."

"Thank you Michelle, I'm sure it took a great deal of courage to come forward." James O'Connor then looked at the attorney representing the hospital and said: "Your witness."

The defendant's attorney attacked Michelle Liu's credibility and motives viciously. They implied that she was the cause of my injuries. They also accused her of just saying anything the State Attorney had wanted so that they could prosecute Dr. White. The defendant's legal team wanted the jury to believe that the immunity deal was her motivation for lying. And finally they said another of her motives was for money. Michelle had a book deal and had been paid a handsome advance for her story.

But she held up. She spoke clearly and continued to insist everything she said was true and her motives were centered on clearing her conscience and getting some justice for me. 

I was very impressed with how this young woman stood up under the cross examination. I knew in a couple of days I would face similar questions when I testified.

The judge recessed the proceeding and we headed back to Liz's apartment in Irvine. 

*

Chapter 5

The traffic was barely moving as we headed for home on the 5 Freeway. We were just south of what Liz called the Orange Crush where the 57, 22 and 5 freeways intersected. She looked over to me and made a kiss with her lips and said: "Just relax Chris, we will be home soon. I invited Jill over for dinner around 6:30.

I closed my eyes just for a second and leaned back against the head rest. Then as with all of my flashbacks I was instantly somewhere else. This time I was in Dave and Buster's lounge. I saw Jill Peters seated in a booth with three other girls. They were all relaxing with their drinks and laughing at something funny. I knew Jill but didn't know any of her friends. I was nervous and excited about getting back together with her after what had taken place between us at Dr. Lyons' office earlier. I approached the booth and said: "Hi Jill."




Voices in the Darkness



Jill hadn't seen me approach and she turned her head when she heard me say her name. A seductive smile spread across her face and she said: "Oh good you found my hang out. Let me make introductions. Guys this is Christine Velarde." Jill then pointed to a pretty blonde girl and said: "Christine, this is my good friend Elizabeth West; she is a RN and works at a long term care facility in Irvine."

Elizabeth extended her hand to me and said: "It's nice to meet you Christine, please call me Liz, all my friends do."

I think I instantly liked Liz and said: "OK Liz; but you have to call me Chris."

Then Jill pointed to the pretty girl seated next to Liz. She had distinctive oriental facial features and she also smiled at me. Jill spoke: "This is Michelle Liu. She is also one of my friends and she is a surgical nurse at Southland Hospital. 

Michelle said: "It's a pleasure to meet you Chris."

I replied: "Thanks Michelle, it's nice to meet you too."

And finally Jill put her arm around the girl seated next to her and said: "And this goofball is Nancy Cameron. She is my best friend in the whole world. Nancy is a lab technician and also works at Southland."

Nancy looked up at me and said: "Hi Chris. Are you bi like all of us?"

I was stunned. This pretty petite brunette was asking me if I was bi-sexual. Never in a million years did I expect that question. I stammered and finally said: "I'm not sure Nancy."

Jill spoke up: "Come on guys, let's give the girl a break. I just met her today at Dr. Lyons office. She's going to have her boobs done like mine and Michelle's."

Michelle spoke up and said: "Why don't you sit between me and Liz. We will let the two love birds sit together on that side of the booth."

As Michelle stood I could see that she had a nice figure. I wondered how much of that figure was real and how much Dr. Lyons had contributed. I also realized that Jill and Nancy must be lovers based on what Michelle had just said. I was a bit disappointed by that news since I had been hoping to continue what we started earlier in the doctor's examining room. 

I squeezed in next to Liz. Her body was warm and soft. She smelled nice and fresh. I asked her: "Liz did Dr. Lyons do your boobs also?"

Liz cupped her boobs and bounced them just a bit for everyone to see and said: These 36C's are all me." She laughed and said: "Yep they come in very handy when you're surfing. I always have my personal floatation devices handy."

We all laughed and started to relax. I ordered a margarita from the bar and we enjoyed some very fun girl talk.

Suddenly the brakes screeched and my head snapped forward.

"Sorry Chris, but that asshole slammed on his breaks for no reason." 

We were still on the 5 freeway. There was a car stopped directly in front of us. But the other lanes were now moving.

Liz asked: "Are you okay lover?"

"Oh I'm fine. I was just remembering the night we first met."

Liz looked at me and I could see in her sweet face that she loved me. She placed her hand on mine and said: "That's so sweet that you were thinking about me. Do you remember our first kiss?"

"How could I ever forget that........."

Once again I had been transported back in time and place to Dave and Buster's. Michelle had already departed and Nancy was in the process of reminding Jill that they needed to hurry or they would be late for the start of the show. Jill looked at me and said: "It was so nice you could stop by tonight and meet my friends. Nancy and I have to leave now, but let's get back together real soon. I'm sure Liz will keep you good company tonight." She winked at us before turning and hugging Nancy. Then they walked out leaving the two of us seated side by side in the booth.

I had not moved over very much when Michelle had left earlier. Liz and I were seated as closely together as two lovers would have wanted to sit. But now the other side of the booth was completely open. I wanted to make sure that I was reading the situation correctly so I asked Liz: "Do you want me to sit on the other side now?"

In a soft and reflective voice Liz asked: "Don't you like sitting next to me Chris?"

"Oh Liz, I just wanted to be sure that you wanted me snuggled up here against you. I'm enjoying every second being next to you. You are one of the nicest girls I ever met."

Liz looked at me and asked: "Are you trying to figure out your sexuality?"

"Up until a few weeks ago I would have answered your question by saying no. I was as straight as straight could be. But something has changed. Now I don't think about my boyfriend the same way as I did before and I have started having feelings for girls."

"Is that why you came here tonight? Were you feeling something sexual toward Jill? You can tell me Christine. I figured out that I was a lesbian in my junior year in college. Up until then I had sex with guys and thought that made me straight. But I had been repressing my sexual feelings towards girls for a couple of years before I actually figured out that it was okay to feel that way."

"Will you keep this a secret Liz?"

"Of course I will. What's your secret?"

"Jill and I kissed in Dr. Lyons' examining room today when he had to step out and take a call. She had undressed so I could see how her breast augmentation looked and I ended up touching her and kissing her."

"Did you like how it felt to kiss a girl?"

I must have been blushing but I answered: "It was magic Liz. My whole body tingled as our lips pressed together and our tongues touched. It was the most erotic kiss I ever had."

Liz found my left hand and gave it a squeeze. "Your first lesbian kiss; that is one kiss you will never forget. Just hearing about it has me tingling all over."

"I was hoping that she and I were going to kiss again tonight. When she invited me here she didn't mention that she was involved with Nancy."

"Listen Chris, that's just the way Jill is. She is such a romantic and has an eye for beauty. I think Jill can fall in love with someone who is beautiful like you in just minutes. And to her it's true love. So she might seem like a tease to some people but in her heart she was in love with you when she kissed you."

Liz had just made me feel good about what had happened to me today. She was a very considerate and caring person. I was so glad that she stayed: "Do you think she really loved me when she kissed me Liz?"

Liz allowed her right had to softly touch my chin and guide my face closer to hers. She looked directly into my eyes and said: "Yes Chris, I'm sure she was in love with you. I know because that's the way I feel now." Then her face moved closer and our lips touched. It was such a soft kiss. She made no attempt to force her tongue in my mouth rather she allowed her soft lips to caress mine.

We must have kissed for at least thirty seconds before pulling back. Liz spoke first: "That was so wonderful. But we are drawing an audience." She had spotted a group of guys standing at the central bar who were watching us kiss.

I whispered into her ear: "I have never been kissed like that before Liz. I can't believe how good I'm feeling right now."

Liz asked: "Do you have to hurry home tonight?"

Her question made me realize I hadn't even told Rick I was going out. My eyes opened wide and I said: "Oh my god, I forgot to tell my boyfriend that I was going to meet some friends here tonight. He must be home by now and wondering where I am."

"You better call him."

I retrieved my cell phone out of my purse and dialed our house. Rick answered the phone and asked: "When are you going to be home Babe?"

"Rick, I met some nurses today when I had my examination and they asked me to have a drink with them. I'm at a bar in Orange near Angel's Stadium. I think it's starting to break up now so I should be home soon."

"How did it go at Dr. Lyons' office?"

"It went really well. He said I had the perfect body for implants. I decided to go up to a full C cup. He said I would look like a Hollywood starlet after my operation."

"Why didn't you select a "D" cup? You know I wanted your boobs big like Amber's."

I started crying because I was hurt by his insensitivity. He had just once again compared me to that slutty Amber Hines. I tried to respond: "You asshole, I can't believe you would say you preferred that whore's boobs to what mine will be like. I'm only doing this operation to please you. Besides Dr. Lyons said it would be risky for me to go beyond a large C cup."

Rick continued to press for the bigger implants: "Come on babe, I'm the one paying. Get the D cups for me."

I was so mad I could barely control myself when I said: "Make dinner for yourself tonight asshole. I'm not sure when I will be back or even if I will return. So you just think about that before you tell me I should put my life at risk just to feed your boob fetish." I hung up and told Liz what happened.

I told her how I was doing this just to please him and how insensitive he had been. I also told her that I wasn't even sure if I loved him anymore. But I also told her that I had become accustomed to his wealth. That I couldn't afford to live my life the way I wanted to on my small salary alone. So I was trapped.

Liz held my hand the whole time as I told her my sad story. I told her how alone I had felt after my mom died and how I was so confused now in my relationship with Rick. She let me get it all out. She let me talk and cry and she never tried to find fault with any of the choices I had made in my life. She was already my best friend.

Finally she said: "I live in Irvine Chris. You're welcome to spend the night if you don't want to see Rick until tomorrow. I work the graveyard shift at a long term care facility so I won't be able to stay home very long before I have to report to work tonight. I have some comfy pajamas that I'm sure would fit you and you won't need to confront Rick while you're still upset. There are no strings attached to my offer Chris. Just crash at my place if that's what you want."

I told Liz I would like that. We gathered up our purses and headed out to our cars. She gave me directions and told me to take the 5 all the way to Jamboree Road and then follow it until it passed over the 405. She said her apartment complex was on the corner of Michelson and Jamboree. Even though her directions sounded easy I told her I would follow her.

I awoke as I felt the car make a hard right and then stop. I heard Liz say: "Home sweet home."

I opened my eyes and I was back in the present. It was still light outside. "What time is it Liz?"

"It's five forty. It took us almost an hour in that horrible rush hour traffic. At least we have some time before Jill comes over."

My flashbacks all felt so real when they were occurring. It was difficult for me to separate my present from my past or my reality from fantasy. At least I thought I was back in the present. I looked at Liz and said: "I was remembering our first kiss and our first night together."

"Was it good lover?"

I laughed and said: The kiss was perfect but I woke up before my flashback got to the part when I got to see your sexy naked body later that night."

She giggled and said: "Oh, so you didn't have time for the best part."

I gave her shoulder a hug as we walked side by side towards her door. "I wish for once the traffic was just a little slower. I was just getting to that part when I woke up." 

*

Chapter 6

The doorbell rang at 6:45 and I knew it must be Jill. I ran to the door and let her in. She looked very sexy in her low cut jeans and tank top. I hadn't seen her in several weeks and I gave her a hug and kiss. "Come on in, dinner is almost ready."

Just then Liz came out of the kitchen holding two glasses of wine. She handed one of them to me and then handed the other to Jill and asked: "How are you Jill? You're looking very sexy in that tank top tonight." 

Liz had prepared a very nice grilled chicken breast Caesar salad. We ate in the living room and watched the news to see if there was any coverage on my trial. Jill told me that she had watched Michelle's testimony on Court TV earlier in the day. 

Jill went on to say: "All of the commentators were on your side Chris. They were against the hospital and the doctors. They all seemed to think the hospital should have already settled the case and never let it come to trial. One of the guest attorneys said he figured the jury was going to award you millions in either punitive damages or for pain and suffering."

I was glad and said: "I hope they settle now so I don't have to testify."

Liz asked: "How much did they think the award would be Jill?"

"Well that guest attorney estimated $20 to 30 million. Can you believe it? We are all going to be so stinking rich. I'm going to be set for life on my ten percent."

Liz was quick to inject: "Hold on Jill. First we need to win, second we need to collect, and third the lawyer takes a third. So we only get what's left over."

Jill responded directly to Liz: "I know but it's still a lot. And the two of you will really be set because Chris gets 60% and you get 10% like me Liz; but you guys live together and are in love."

I looked at Jill and asked: "Are you and Nancy going to patch things up?"

"I don't think we will ever be lovers again. After we had that one really awful fight she moved back in with her parents. I think you guys know that Michelle still sees her pretty often and they are sexually active."

I spoke up and laughingly said: "You mean they are still eating each other's pussies every chance they get."

Liz said: "Michelle will take sex any way she can get it. I swear she is insatiable. She can do it softly and romantically with a girlfriend at lunch time and then have two guys double team her and fuck her brains out a few hours later that evening."

Jill stood up and said: "Speaking of insatiable..." She lifted her tank top over her head in a graceful motion. Her body was still as beautiful as the first time I saw it. Her large breasts were perfectly accented by her hardening nipples. "Come on guys let's get naked." 

Jill quickly unbuckled her wide leather belt and started stripping out of her tight jeans. She had on a pair of cute bikini panties but nothing else once she finished stepping out of her jeans. I looked over toward Liz and saw that she had pulled her t-shirt off and was reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. When it came off I was the only one left still fully dressed.

Jill looked at me and said: "Come on Liz lets get Chris' top off too. I want to suck on those million dollar titties."

I had changed out of the dress which I had worn to court earlier today and had put on my favorite silk pajamas. I loved the feel of silk on my bare skin. A second later I felt Jill and Liz grab me. Liz said: "I think we should tickle her first and make her beg us to stop." She knew how ticklish I was and that once they got me laughing I would do anything they wanted to get them to stop.

Jill stood behind me and lifted my loose fitting pajama top up as high as she could raise it without unbuttoning it first. It exposed my sides to my lover's hands. Liz tickled me under my rib cage and I screamed out as I began laughing uncontrollably: "Stop...please stop.....I will do anything you want...."

Finally Liz relented. She looked at me and then commanded: "Take off Jill's panties."

Jill wiggled her hips as I turned and faced her. I kneeled down in front of her and slipped her bikini down her long smooth legs. As the panties moved down I was face to face with her bald pussy. She had received laser hair removal treatments so there was not even a trace of stubble. Her labia were still closed and her skin looked soft and smooth.

Then Jill commanded me: "Turn around Chris and pull Liz's jeans down."

I turned back around without standing and faced my lover's body. I looked up toward her face and made a kiss for her on my lips and then mouthed the words "I love you." I hadn't said it out loud and since Jill was behind me it was just meant for Liz. I then unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and pulled them down. To my surprise she wasn't wearing any panties. I guess she knew we wouldn't stay dressed long after dinner.

Both Jill and Liz have pretty faces and sexy bodies. They were both shorter than me but that was only because I was so tall. Both of them knew they were gorgeous and they were proud of their bodies.

I felt Jill's arms reach around me as I stood. Her hands started undoing the buttons on my pajama top. Liz knelt down and was pulling my bottoms to the carpeted floor. They had me naked in a few seconds. My body was now almost as feminine as their curvaceous forms. The breast augmentation procedure had been ninety five percent complete when my vital signs fell to critical levels. After I was stabilized Dr. Lyons had to make a decision on whether to remove the implants or to complete the minor amount of work required to finish. He almost instantly decided that it was in my best interests to leave the implants in place. Since I was unmarried and my parents were deceased there was nobody who could have legally challenged his decision. I found out later that he did ask Rick if he wanted them removed. Of course Rick agreed with Dr. Lyons that he did the correct thing by leaving them in.

Despite the fact that I originally didn't want an augmentation I must now admit that I like my fake boobs. They are almost as big as Liz's natural 36C boobs but my 34C's have a sexy teardrop shape. And because I'm still very thin they are very prominent. Jill's boobs were slightly bigger than either of ours and she was clearly the most glamorous of the three of us. Jill had not cut her hair since I first met her over two years ago and her brown locks now extended mid way down her tapered back. Her 24 inch waist was so thin it gave her a perfect hour glass figure. And I always thought her blue eyes were very pretty.

We ran back and jumped on the bed that Liz and I slept in every night. It was a queen sized bed so it was crowded with all three girls on there at the same time. But we didn't mind being crowded in together. I was in the middle and I rolled onto my back. Jill scooted down and got between my legs while Liz started sucking on my nipples. She knew just how to touch the sensitive skin on the sides of my breasts while sucking on one of my swollen nipples. She would suck one and then switch and suck the other. Liz had to lean her body across mine each time she would suck my nipple that was further away from her. I loved feeling her warm body and soft natural breasts on me. 

Jill had me bend my knees up and spread my legs wide for her. She tickled my little strip of pubic hair with her fingertips before she lowered her mouth to my slit. My labia parted as I felt her tongue slide up and down my moist slit. My inner lips opened as well and I felt her shove her slick tongue deep inside my wet gash. Jill moved her hand from my bush to the center of my feminine sexuality. She softly touched my clit with the tip of her fingernail on her index finger. She kept her nails exquisitely polished and filed so I could feel the smooth hard surface glide across my sensitive nub. 

Liz had been a lesbian for nearly ten years and Jill had been mostly with girls for about four years. Her two male exceptions had been Dr. Lyons and Dr. White. My girlfriends were both fully aware of how to please a woman. They didn't need any vibrators or any dildos to make me orgasm; their fingers, tongues, and mouths were working their magic. My body trembled as I started to near my first orgasm. My orgasms always started with me losing a certain amount of control over my body. It felt so good and I just wanted that tingle to last for ever. I could feel each tremor as my body shook.

Jill shifted slightly and slid her tongue out of my dripping hole. She quickly placed her mouth over my clit and started sucking it with steadily growing pressure. She had a little trick of being able to flick the tip of my extended nub with her tongue while never stopping her sucking pressure. Liz was kissing me in her special way. It was the way we loved to kiss. It was soft and sensual and we played with each others lips. She would allow her lips to glide across mine. Occasionally she would suck on my lower lip or even bite it softly. The entire time we kissed her right hand pinched my left nipple. She knew I liked it pulled and twisted. She also knew that I liked her to use her fingernails to intensify the feeling that I was receiving from her touch. I cried out as I finally lost all conscious control of my functions. I felt that wonderful electricity from my orgasm make my muscles convulse. It was heaven having these two girls make me cum.




Voices in the Darkness



For the next two hours we made love. We took turns receiving and giving pleasure. Although I think Jill is very sexy and very nice I think I most enjoyed going down on Liz. I just loved to pleasure her. I think it was because I owed her so much. It is hard to describe just how much her touch meant to me when I was in my coma. It was her voice that comforted me in the darkness that surrounded me during those many long days and nights.

Now I was able to return the love that she showed to me. Liz liked to be on her hands and knees with my head directly under her. I laid on my back and positioned my face so I could easily bend my neck forward and have my mouth pressed up against her pussy. The rest of my body extended back behind her which allowed my long slender legs to bend at the knee over the foot of the bed so my feet just touched the floor. Jill then centered herself between my legs and licked me as I pleasured my lover. Liz was a true blonde and her golden colored pubic hair was very neatly trimmed. But her soft curls still tickled my nose sometimes. I loved how sweet Liz tasted. When Liz and I first became lovers I had no idea whether the taste I savored from her sweet pussy was the way all girls tasted. But I later found out that she truly had a unique sweet flavor. Maybe it was the surfing but she didn't have the musky aroma that Jill or Michelle had.

I licked her spreading lips and was rewarded with her sweet nectar. Liz was lowering her body to meet my tongue as I devoured her pussy. I could hear my girlfriend moan with pleasure as my tongue found her clit. I knew she wouldn't want me to stop licking it once I started. But she enjoyed having her swollen nub licked in many different ways. So I gave her all of her favorites. I licked the hard little tip portion of her clit with the tip of my pointed tongue. Then I licked it much harder by using the length of my tongue to cover her entire clit and most of her lubricated slit. I licked in circles and then up and down all in an attempt to give her maximum sensation. She also liked me to softly nibble on it with my lips. I knew she didn't like me to bite so I was careful not to get my teeth on her most sensitive spot. 

My hands were on her hips guiding her rhythmic dance with my tongue. I could feel her excitement growing in her body as it quivered. Her soft moaning filled my ears with the most seductive music ever composed. At the same time Jill was having her way with my pussy. She had spread my legs wide and had her tongue once again planted in my fertile furrow.

Liz managed to support herself on one hand so she could use the other to pinch one of her hard nipples. It was then I felt her orgasm explode through her body. Her legs clamped together pinning my face tightly between her sexy upper thighs. She had done this before so I knew in about twenty seconds her tight grip on my head would lessen. It was hard to breathe in that position so I didn't even try. I just relaxed for a moment and felt my lover's body during her orgasm. I could feel every tremor that went through Liz's lower torso and thighs. It was truly as if we were one. Shortly thereafter Jill's tongue brought me yet another full bodied orgasm.

Liz and I managed to take care of Jill's needs also. She liked to be tied to the headboard on the bed. Liz knew this and had silk scarves waiting. My girlfriend also had two pairs of handcuffs in case Jill was in one of her kinky moods. But that night she wanted the silk restraints. Jill also liked nipple clamps. She said she always had her most intense orgasm when she could feel and see them clamped. We did everything she liked including licking her tight little ass. However Jill didn't have to ask us for her favorite; we knew what she craved. Jill Peters liked to get her ass fucked. So Liz would get her ass really lubed up and then she would fuck her tight hole with her index finger. She could pump it hard and fast and Jill would go crazy with delight. I would give her ass cheeks some smacks while Liz finger fucked her rear hatch. And Jill was a squirter; when she came she would get so wet that her juice flowed from her gash. 

Jill loved the special attention that we were giving her ass. I was seated next to her hip and I helped her keep her legs lifted up and back so that her knees rested up against her ample chest. It gave Liz all the room she needed to give Jill her forbidden pleasure. She was loud as her orgasm approached: "Oh yeah, fuck my ass Liz, fuck it hard."

Jill soaked our bed when she came. Well at least it was on Liz's side; I thought to myself.

It was getting late and Liz and I had to be back in court the next morning so we reluctantly let our sexy guest with the perfect hourglass figure go home. Jill dressed and we all kissed and hugged before she left.

Liz and I were still naked and we decided to go to bed that way. I got into bed first and pulled the sheet over me. Then Liz laid down beside me and screamed out in surprise: "Oh it's wet and cold on my side."

I looked at her before turning out the light and said: "Jill got really juicy when you did her ass darling. Why don't you snuggle up with me? It's nice and warm on my side."

We fell asleep in each others arms. 

*

Chapter 7

I don't know how long I had been asleep but a vivid dream of my past came rushing back into my thoughts. I was outside and I was speaking to Liz. We were in the parking lot to Liz's apartment complex.

"I'm not sure if I should be here Liz. Maybe I should go home and straighten things out with Rick."

Liz was very sweet and patient with me as I tried to put my thoughts in order. She looked at me and said: "I will be here for you Chris. What ever you decide to do will be fine with me, but I think you should come in for a few minutes and we can try to talk through some of your issues."

We went into Liz's small apartment. It was decorated very nicely and I sat on her sofa. She asked if I wanted anything to drink and I said: "Whatever you're having will be fine Liz."

She handed me a wine cooler and sat in the arm chair next to the sofa. Liz took a swig from her bottle and asked: "Do you really want to have your boobs done Chris? You know you are beautiful just the way you are."

I started crying and she came over and sat next to me on the sofa and gave me a big hug. I just couldn't stop crying. Her reassuring voice kept telling me: "It's okay Chris, go ahead and let it all out. I understand."

I finally composed myself and told her how frightened I was by the possibility of letting Rick get away from me. I explained that I had never been a very self confident individual and that left me vulnerable to men who wanted total control over a relationship.

Liz held my hand and asked: "Do you really love him Chris?"

"I thought I did, but now I'm not sure. I don't think he loves me for who I am, he loves me like one of his prized possessions. He just wants to own the best car, the best house, and the best looking wife. Maybe he loves all of his possessions but that is not the way I want to be loved."

"Well then you should let him know how you feel."

"Rick is very generous, he allows me to drive one of his cars and has bought me most of the clothes I wear. I live in his expensive house and all I have to do is look gorgeous for him. I like that life style but I just wish he wasn't forcing me into this corner. He knows I didn't want the surgery, but he will not be satisfied with me unless I do it. I think he might be seeing someone else on the side and if I don't do this I think he will break up with me soon."

"Are possessions and money that important to you Chris?"

"When you don't have a safety net underneath you it is. I have no one that I could turn to if I fell."

"Didn't you tell me that you worked for Northrop in Redondo Beach?"

"Yes it's a great job. I work as an HR specialist but the pay is not the best."

"Do you mind telling me how much you make Chris?"

"Right now I'm at a $41,000 salary. I hope to get a raise soon."

Liz looked concerned and said: "I know it costs a lot to live here in Orange County. I'm making $52,000 and most of the time I'm broke."

"What do you think I should do Liz?"

"Before I answer that let me tell you some more about me. In some ways we are very much alike. I also lost my parents. My mom had it very rough and she committed suicide when I was 16. She had been married to an alcoholic when she was very young and had a son before she turned 18. Her first husband repeatedly beat her until he was sent to prison and only then did she divorce him. Then my mom met my dad. He was a better man than her first husband but he cheated on her with other women constantly. Unfortunately after years of having sex with prostitutes he contracted HIV and then passed it on to my mom. He died from AIDS related complications when I was 12. My mom hung on for four years fighting the HIV virus but in the end it was more than she could take and she killed herself."

"Oh Liz, I'm so sorry to hear about your mom, I know how bad it must hurt. But what happened to you after she died?"

"Well, lucky for me, there was my half-brother. Bobby was 24 years old at the time. He was extremely smart and had already graduated from the University of Southern California School of Medicine. However, he worked really crazy hours because he was a first year resident at a Los Angeles hospital. But Bobby took me in; as I had no other living relatives in the state. But just like me he had become depressed from knowing that our mother had chosen to take her life. It was just such a shock to both of us that mom would leave us voluntarily. I think my half-brother took it harder than I did because he knew the HIV drug treatments were capable of virtually stopping the onset of full blow AIDS."

"That is so sad Liz. How long did you live with your half-brother?"

"I stayed with him for five years until I was 21. He mentored me into the medical profession and I owe him a great deal."

"I'm sure he was happy to help you Liz."

"Well the story of my relationship with my half-brother isn't quite that simple. I always thought he was the best looking guy and the smartest guy in the world. As a teenager I had a secret crush on him. When we were thrust back together I allowed my urges to create problems for us. I wanted him to see me as a sexually attractive woman; after all I saw him as a sexually attractive man. So I timed my showers in order to coincide with when he was home relaxing. I would emerge from the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around my hair."

"What did he do and say to you?"

"The first time he saw me nude he yelled at me and told me to cover up. But I told him that he better get use to it because that was the way I did it at mom's house. He talked about his rules but I disobeyed them and soon he knew that I was going to parade my naked body around the apartment. I think once the shock wore off he actually looked forward to seeing my young hard body."

"Did he ever make a pass at you Liz?"

"No he didn't Chris, he was a perfect gentleman. So I was the one who took it further. I did it by crawling into his bed one night and telling him how much I missed mom. I was naked and he just had on boxers. I asked Bobby to hold me. It felt so good when he put one of his strong arms around me and hugged me tight. My breasts were fully developed by then and I knew he could feel them against his masculine chest. I told him I didn't want to sleep in my bed that night and I asked if I could stay with him. At first he objected but after a few minutes of hearing me beg and say please, he finally agreed. For the next year and a half we shared a bed. It took only a few nights of just being close to him before we started touching under the sheets. And from there we quickly turned our relationship into full fledged lovers. Bobby got me on the pill right away so that I wouldn't get pregnant."

"Liz I thought you were a lesbian?"

"I am now. The love I have for Bobby is now that of a normal brother and sister. It was tragedy that briefly brought us together and it was my lust that drove us into our sexual affair. But when I started attending college my brother encouraged me to start seeing other guys who were my age and he started dated other women. Most of his girlfriends were beautiful young women who worked at local hospitals. I started finding myself being attracted to many of those same beautiful nurses when he would introduce me to them. By the time I was a junior college I had fully accepted the fact that I only wanted to be with other women. I moved in with a girlfriend shortly thereafter."

I was very curious about something and asked: "Liz, you had sex almost daily with your brother for over a year. Didn't you enjoy it?"

"Our sex was always wonderful. It was overpowering and it made me feel so good. I had a lover who knew exactly what I wanted. He knew precisely how I liked to be touched."

"Why did you ever stop if it was so good?"

"I can't put my finger on it Chris. I had repressed my true sexuality and when I started having sexual urges involving women I didn't act on them. So it just happened very slowly. After I started college Bobby gradually became more of a friend and brother and less of a lover. In fact he taught me to surf and we loved to ride the waves even more than fucking. But I really think my overwhelming love for female beauty and the way girls think and act forced me to accept that I was a lesbian. But I still love Bobby and owe him big time for everything he did for me. He was even gracious when I told him I didn't want to have sex with him anymore. He supported and accepted my choice to live my life as a lesbian."

I realized then that we all have problems and mine were no worse than what Liz faced and overcame. But I still wanted to know more about her: "Liz, I noticed that you were seated next to Michelle earlier tonight, are you two involved with each other?"

Liz flashed me that beautiful smile of hers and said: "Michelle and I are friends and part time lovers. But she is not a lesbian; Michelle is truly bi-sexual. I think she has sex more with guys than girls but she says she loves both. She is currently dating a doctor whom I know. He works at the hospital where you're going to have your surgery performed. They have sex parties with other couples frequently. She has even done it with your plastic surgeon, Dr. Lyons and his wife."

"Oh my god; I didn't know that."

"Michelle is a crazy girl. I like her because she is wild, but she has lots of crazy ideas and schemes. In fact she has a get rich scheme that she has been trying to get Jill, Nancy, and me involved in. I'm surprised she didn't tell you about it tonight because you would have been the perfect person for her to have included her grand scheme."

I was so curious to hear it. So I begged Liz to tell me what she knew about Michelle's plan.

Liz looked at her watch and said: "I have to get dressed for work Chris. I will be glad to tell you but I need to put my uniform on while we talk. I don't mind changing in front of you if you're comfortable with that."

We walked back to her bedroom. There were lots of pictures on the walls and some pretty flowers in a vase. She opened her closet door and pulled out a white nurse's uniform. She looked at me and said: "Most of my patients don't even know I'm there but I still have to wear this uniform everyday."

She placed the white dress on her bed and asked me to sit down. I sat next to where she had placed the uniform. I watched as she retrieved a pair of white pantyhose, a white bra, and a pair of panties from her dresser. Then she started telling me about Michelle's get rich scheme.

Liz told me that the doctor, Michelle was dating, had trouble controlling his drinking and that he used drugs. She said she was sure someday that he would be sued for malpractice if the hospital didn't fire him first. Her plan was to have a patient fake a coma which everyone would think was caused by the intoxicated physician.

I looked at Liz and said: "Your kidding right? Nobody can fake they are in a coma."

Liz had started to take off her short skirt which she had worn to the bar earlier. Her legs were long and tan. She then said: "Actually Michelle's doctor boyfriend has been working with a new drug company and one of the drugs they are working on can cause total paralysis to the patient. They think it could be very useful as anesthesia. The compound was based on the venom found in burrowing wasps in the southwest. They have now synthesized the compound and eliminated the toxic side effects. So if a patient were given a steady supply of this drug the paralysis could be extended for months."

My mind was racing as I watched Liz lift her tight fitting top over her head. She now stood before me only dressed in a black lace bra and matching panties. She looked at me with her sparkling blue eyes and said: "I can't wear black under my uniform. It shows." 

I was trying to pay attention to what she was telling me but it was difficult because her body was gorgeous. But I managed to ask a question. "Wouldn't the hospital do tests and realize that the person faking the coma was receiving this drug?"

Liz gracefully reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. I then gazed at her uncovered breasts. She responded to my concern: "I also questioned that Chris. But Michelle is a clever girl. She has Nancy Cameron already lined up to use blood samples which are not going to show the compound's existence. And even if by some chance a true blood sample got sent to another lab it would show up on the mass spectrograph as an unknown compound. This drug is in the very early stages of development and has not been registered with the FDA. But Nancy is a key to that part of Michelle's plan."

I was in awe of this woman. She was now completely naked and not in the least embarrassed to show me her body. She had more pubic hair than I did as she trimmed hers very close but didn't shave her labia like mine. But her pubic hair was very fine and a light golden color. She had some distinct tan lines from wearing a bikini at the beach. She then asked: "Does my body look like what you thought it would Chris?"

"You're even sexier than I could have imagined Liz."

"Why thank you Chris. Would you please hand me my clean panties?"

As I handed Liz her underwear I asked another question: "How much does Michelle think would be paid to the victim?"

Liz started dressing and replied: "She thinks that the doctor with the drinking problem will settle fast for around $2 million in an attempt to avoid criminal prosecution. But she thinks that the hospital will resist settling out of court. She thinks that if the case is tried that a jury will award at least ten million once we prove a conspiracy existed to cover up the drinking problem of the anesthesiologist. Finally there could be a suit against Dr. Lyons if he is the surgeon because Jill could place some key documents into the patient's file that would prove he also committed malpractice. So a total of around $15 million is what Michelle expects. 

I watched Liz sit beside me and slide her pantyhose up her left leg. She looked back at me and said: "Crazy, isn't it?"

"Oh I don't know, it sounds pretty well thought out if you ask me."

"You're not actually thinking of willingly being placed in a coma, are you?"

"How much would my share be Liz?"

"Well remember this is Michelle's plan. My only role would be to take care of the patient once she was transferred to my long term care facility and to continue the paralysis drug. But she said that the patient would get 60% of what was collected and the four other girls would each get ten percent."

I don't know what I was thinking. Liz was right, this was crazy. A thousands things could go wrong and I would never wake up. But it was a means of making enough money to set me up for life. And since my parents were dead they would not suffer from knowing I was in a coma.




Voices in the Deep



AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story takes a while to set up, so don't expect to get your kicks right away. I tried to write a story as if Lovecraft wrote erotica. Don't know if I succeeded, but I had fun writing it. Let me know what you think!

It remains a mystery to me and to any who have experienced my story and to any who have heard the story exactly where I went wrong. The blurring of the line occurred at the beginning, and so much of what followed might have been entirely illusory. I remain a prisoner in a cell without bars in a place of which I cannot describe, but not because of a lack of trying.

I don't even know how long I have been here, but if I count from the moment of the Great Sinking, and if pressed to answer in a court of the kind of law that is realistically enforced, I must say it has been on the order of 500 years or more. This may just be a day where I came from, which may be where you now reside yourself.

If you are reading this, then you are passing over the Deep, into which I and my comrades plummeted. You may mistake my voice for an illusion, but I assure you I am not just a voice in your head. I am real, and I've come to warn you.

I leave it to you to figure out where I went wrong, because so much of my actions were not my own doing, and it grows more difficult to know when my spirit gave out. Rest assured, you must turn around and go back. The waters may look calm as any other sea, but this is not just any ocean. It is not passable.

It will swallow you up whole, and will not let you go. And in the end, sweet death will not be an option.

*

The vessel my friends and I were traveling in was of a design I could not acutely describe anymore. If my memory could be trusted, I might be able to tell you how best to avoid that unholy void which appeared most suddenly in our path. But unfortunately, I remember only the void.

That was the beginning for me, and anything which came before it eludes me. I've tried digging down within me to discover the Truth from whence I came, but always I am pulled, in dreams and in memory, into the vortex that brought us all down here. And thinking about it only stirs the demons further, and no one wants that.

You could say we saw the sun set for the last time. The light began to bend at the far end of the horizon, away from that great star. It seemed to spray our field of view with death like an aerosol can. I think most of us knew at once that we drifted into a darkness from which there would be no possible return.

As sure as that darkness pulls on the vision as I tell it to you now, if you have seen it, it is too late for you. I pray it is not too late for you now.

The sea before us turned charcoal in color, and the light was choked out. The glimmer of twilight smacked the waves less and less as we approached until at last, like a picture slowly curling into ash above the heat of a flameless fire, we saw only the void. It lay in our path like liquid licorice.

The whirlpool pulled us ever nearer to its core, and we could see lights within flickering like a thunderstorm down inside the ocean. Whenever those lights flickered, it revealed in ever more imminent terror, the vast scope of that horrifying vortex that tugged us closer as effortlessly as a boy tugs his wagon.

A sound arose which I shudder to describe to you now. This sound I won't describe, not because I can't, but because it is all I hear when I fail to give in to its call. I wish so much to believe there is existence beyond the torment of this demonic chorus, but I fail now in every attempt to imagine this to be true.

The sound had been mixed and somewhat softened by that of the curling ocean waters, and before our ship was even sucked into the core of that hole in the ocean, I would have gladly chosen to end the maddening cacophony with my death.

There are indeed many who were fortunate enough to have thought of this in time. They saved their existence the insufferable torment of which I endeavor to alarm you now.

We did not feel our ship sink, but merely saw the horizon rise higher and higher before us. The horrible song of the deep sharpened like tuning in to a radio frequency. The song was indeed like a radio station broadcasting songs from some lost oceanic highway, one that seems to have always existed, and was forgotten for very good reason.

The voice of a thousand daemons rang in all our ears, and the power of the voices paralyzed the lot of us who chose not to take our own lives. The beings kept our arms at our sides, for fear we might do so.

We stood rapt with fear and agonizing paranoia. At random moments, those lights flickered on, and we saw the barrier between that curtain of tar and ourselves. We also saw the silhouettes, as crystal clear as a child's stencil, of creatures that we felt were anxious to meet us and dominate us. They circled us like lions circling a lamb.

None of us gained the use of our limbs until we felt the ship reach the bottom with a thud. Nearing the edge of the ship, we failed to see the edge of the water. The lights had stopped, but the music kept going.

I moved toward the cabin where most of the men were gathering when I felt an oily film on my skin. I only felt it, I discovered, when I moved. Something had filled the air around us, and it was palpable, like some very thick, non-toxic gas.

All at once, while taking in the odd sensation, one of the thousand voices became louder than the others. I became aware of the direction from which it came, and as I turned to look, the voice became deafening in my ears. It was soon accompanied by a ghastly knocking sound, like a hundred knuckles popping. It rose an octave to sound like a tank rolling over rocks. Soon, and quite briefly, I felt the vibration of a very large object lumbering past me, which I could not see.

The sole light in the cabin was threatening to go out, but it bore enough light to illuminate some part of the ship's deck. The creature passed above me very quickly, and I saw only a large, snake-like belly appear before the dim light.

Like all of the men -- men who have wrestled bears and speared sharks -- the sight shook me to my core. No other voices arose like this one for several minutes, but every direction I looked seemed to me to be the direction in which I would see the next creature. And every time, I expected it to be my last.

I staggered into the cabin, where I saw all the other men milling about. Their faces were white as ghosts, and no one looked one another in the eyes.

This was the last moment we all shared together.

*

I did not leave the cabin until my fast diminishing memory betrayed, for only a moment, the image of my wife.

She was on the ship, but not with me. The Deep had begun to penetrate my mind, and the mere image of my wife was one I had begun to doubt. The memory of her seemed to appear in my mind out of nowhere, and I wondered if it was the Deep playing tricks on me.

I had a full set of memories involving the woman known as my wife, and it all became crystal clear when I saw her standing at the stern of the ship looking out into the Void. I went out to meet her to see that she was looking down at the floor, which was now dimly lit by an unknown source.

When I put my hand on my wife's back, she turned to smile at me. It was only in that moment that I knew she was real. She made everything real. She was my talisman. She was my anchor to reality. I knew, as I looked into her eyes, where we were. I remembered everything.

But as I gained some sanity, she turned to look back at the glowing orb. I realized she wasn't smiling because of me.

Then she got up onto the ledge like she was going to jump off. I warned her that it was at least fifty feet, but without paying heed, she jumped.

*

The men were still reeling from the horror when I re-entered the cabin. I noticed some of them were missing, but paid it no mind. I found some rope, and no one stopped me. One woman, the cook's daughter, just looked up at me with abject desperation in her eyes. She did not know anything in that moment, and I had to fight myself for a reason to argue with her. She seemed to say to me, "It's no use. We are nothing here. Not anymore."

Her sadness almost paralyzed me once again, and were I not holding the very rope of my intention, I might have forgotten my purpose.

I reached the stern of the ship and looked down. There was still only darkness, and some part of me began to ridicule the whole mission.

It may be hard for you to imagine how I can forget about a wife I touched only moments before, but those moments might as well have lasted thousands of years. As I stepped up to the rear of the boat, it was like stepping into a whole new reality. Every step, in fact, was like this.

At a certain point, I learned to trust nothing. But even as I heard that voice cackling deep within, mocking my pursuit of a woman that the voice is sure I've made up, I dropped the rope into the deep.

Hard as it was to shake the sadness of a pursuit that even I was beginning to believe was meaningless, I had to believe in something. And even if I was going crazy, I chose to attempt to regain my sanity by searching for my love.

I climbed down until I reached the floor. When I looked up, I saw nothing. The light from the cabin had either gone out, or was so dim that it cast no light beyond the ship. I felt only the rope, the ground beneath me, and nothing else.

But the ground felt uncomfortably rubbery. I clung to the rope ever more tightly, as the reality of the situation dawned on me. I could see literally nothing.

The music had not quieted, but I realized that I had been doing my best to tune it out. Now, looking straight on into the void, it was impossible to do so.

A voice that had not been singing suddenly rang in my ears, and seemed to be coming from beneath me. The ground beneath me moved so suddenly that it knocked me over. The next thing I knew, I was sitting up and seeing the ship become smaller and smaller behind me as some creature swam deeper into the ocean.

I realized that the oily sensation was in fact water. Somehow, we were made to stay alive as our ship sank to the ocean floor. We were made to stay alive so that we would be tortured.

*

I was petrified as the creature took me away. The knocking sound was all around me, and got louder as we neared a dim blue light.

The light turned out to be in the shape of a man, and he was with my wife. As soon as I saw my wife, I jumped off of the creature and floated down to the bottom. I landed on some rocks that were below the hill on which I had seen my wife. Climbing to meet her seemed to take forever.

When I got to the top, I could not believe what I saw.

There were several men, all of them bright, sky blue in color, lighting up a small space. They were all bald, tall, extremely fit and naked. They were very well endowed, and they all surrounded my wife.

She was smiling brightly and even giggling, as if putting on a show for all the men. It saddened me to see my sweet wife, naked and performing for all those men. Her soft, milky white skin glowed a pale blue in their light, and her red hair had become muted.

As if impatient, one of them stepped up to meet her, and her eyes moved at once to his very large penis. Two more appeared behind her. One of them pushed her to her knees and the other guided her head to his penis, which she accepted graciously. She sucked it like it was all she ever wanted to do.

The other men started getting closer, gawking and smiling, as he pushed her down to lie on her back. He remained on his knees and hands, and began pounding his dick into her. It un-nerved me to see that my wife responded to such violent thrusts approvingly. I saw how uncomfortable it must have been, but she only seemed to demand he thrust deeper.

The other men were now mostly on their knees groping her all over. Two of the men were standing and had spread her legs wide open, holding them up so that her hips did not touch the ground.

Another man wasted little time gleefully penetrating my wife. He was quick but deliberate, and she was coming in moments. As another man positioned himself, the rest continued groping her breasts and arms, even rubbing her pussy.

The manner in which I discovered what happened next was very strange, and I still don't quite know how to explain it.

The sight of my wife being fucked by these strange daemons grew impossible to believe. Perhaps some part of my pride had become disturbed at seeing greater forces than myself ravage my wife in front of my very eyes.

There they were, touching, groping and penetrating my wife all over. And there she was, enjoying every minute of it.

Perhaps it hurt even more to see her enjoy it so much.

But perhaps it wasn't even my wife.

The second I had this thought, I heard a garbled voice say, in plain English: It is finished. The image is no longer pure. Awaken the others, so that he may choose.

It was the only words I ever remember hearing in our language, and they remain the only words to this day that I have ever heard. They meant nothing to me.

The music started to rise once again, and the light from the men began to flicker. The knocking sound started to rise, and all at once I saw the monstrosity for the first time.

It had a dorsal shell like a pill bug, with hundreds of glowing tentacles. Each tentacle was about twice the length of my wife's gentle body.

The creature had taken her up, holding up her back, head and each leg with a collection of tentacles. It seemed to have a special soft extension on one of them, which it was using to penetrate my wife's pussy. It was doing so with the greatest of ease, never once breaking rhythm, and my wife was at its mercy.

My wife was crying out because the ecstasy was too great. She was clawing at a random tentacle and eventually brought it to her mouth. She gripped it tighter and tighter as the creature failed to let up. She tried to cry out again in ecstasy, but was choked out.

All of this happened very quickly as the revelation became apparent to me of this creature's true nature. The thing then cradled my wife's wiggling body and guided her into its chest. The sounds of her coming became muffled, and then the thing rose up and swam away, taking my wife with it.

That was the last time I ever saw her alive.

*

Some time later, the music died down. I didn't know if I was more scared with or without it. I took to the idea of walking away from the music as far as I could, but could still see absolutely nothing. I was truly blind.

The disturbing thing about being blind in the ocean, though, is the strength given to your other senses. I still did not know how I was breathing, or why I had not frozen to death. But I believed that if I could walk far enough away from the voices and the chorus, that its grip on my breath might loosen and I might finally die.

I walked for what seemed like years. I grew to believe, as was so easy in those conditions, that all that I could see was all that has ever existed. I unknowingly came to welcome any new experience as a legitimate one.

Eventually, though, I heard the knocking all around and above me, and I suddenly remembered all that had gone before. Something was in the void with me that I could not see, and I had not come to expect them all to have the same face.

This time the music, which was always at least a little faint, had risen once again. But this time, only the harmony. The knocking stopped, and for a while I heard only a sweet melody, which only got more angelic with time.

Even though every part of my being knew not to trust the sound of this music, it nevertheless beckoned me. It drew me near, and my guard dropped the nearer I got to it.

A new thought occurred to me: I might be reaching my salvation. Someone may be delivering me.

After all, the knocking stopped. And this music is beautiful -- not like the horrifying singing I heard before. I believed there was no way this could be of the same origin as those grotesque creatures. There were indeed angels in the Deep, as well as demons.

My heart was aflutter to meet these angels. As I neared their music, a dim light appeared beyond what looked like a greenish mist. I walked through the mist toward the light.

Then I saw the first of the angels. It was a woman with very long blond hair and milky skin, like my wife's. She was floating naked and cross-legged with her eyes closed and her hands palm up in her lap. As I neared her, I discovered another. She was about twenty feet above her, and seemed to be laying down on her side, sleeping.

Another appeared to my left, her knees up to her chest with her arms folded across them, and also sleeping. Another, asleep in the fetal position. Another, also high above, asleep on her belly.

I finally stopped at one that was floating about three feet above the ground. She was also sitting cross-legged, but with her hands behind her, as if supporting her. Her head hung backwards looking up. Her hair was very long -- hip-length -- and seemed to glide in the water. And her hair was red, like my wife's. Her skin also bore an uncanny resemblance to the soft, ivory look of my beloved.

In fact, every curve and feature of her naked body resembled that of my beautiful wife. It was enough to make me want to see her face. When I touched her face for the first time, a strange shock of pleasure shot down my spine.

I turned her head to find that it was not my wife after all. Her face was even softer, gentler than my wife's, and her skin felt like silk. Her lips were light pink, and every feature of her face was perfectly feminine.

As I held her head in my arms, I wondered if she was here to save me, or if I was here to save her. I looked down to notice that I, too, was naked. And whoever this angel was, my desire for her grew stronger the more I gazed upon her.

Yet still, it did not seem right to do so while she slept. I shook her head to wake her, but it did nothing. She might as well have been a rag doll in my hands.

I tried pinching her in the side, but it did nothing. I tried speaking, and even slapped her face. I tried shaking her whole body and tugging at her arm, but none did the trick until I accidentally brushed her left breast. She seemed to stir when I touched it.

I thought I was mistaken, so I held her breast in my hand again. Her lips pursed, as if she'd seen something while dreaming. It was certain: she had reacted to it.

But I reacted to it too.

My loins throbbed as I kept my hand on this beautiful angel's breast. Yet I could not pull away.

I slid my fingers to her nipple and played with it, and felt my penis harden even further. She didn't move much, but I started to see more life in her eye movements and in the rest of her face.

Instinct started to kick into high gear as I started to touch her with both hands. I groped her face, neck and chest and felt her starting to come alive. I noticed her breathing more and more, and her head started to move from side to side. After a while, it didn't have much more of an effect than that.

Then I decided to follow my instinct once more, and I slid my hand down between her legs. I went against my better judgment, which was the only part of me that was aware of how sacred this part of an angel must be. If she was indeed an angel, than I was surely touching her in a place I would most likely not get to touch her if she were awake.

Or maybe she would.

It certainly seemed like she wanted me to touch her there, awake or not. Strange as it might have been, being at the bottom of the ocean, she felt very wet in my fingers. I felt very ashamed to be doing this, but I could not help it.

And I could not help thinking that she wanted it too.

She began to moan, and her breathing deepened. Her hips started to move into my hand, as if she wanted me to hasten what I was doing. And every time I heard her moan, I felt a throbbing in my loins.




Voices in the Deep



It was enough to bring me to my knees, so that I could put my head between her legs, which were still cross-legged. I began to lick her pussy, and the more I did so, the more I wanted it. Before long, it tasted like the sweetest honey, and I couldn't stop drinking.

The more she moaned, the harder I felt myself getting, and the more I explored every inch of her. The thought of pleasing an angel gave me a mad rush, and it only made me harder. I didn't want to stop, so I tried masturbating while I did ate her. It did nothing.

Pretty soon, I knew I had to fuck her. I just had to.

I stood up and un-crossed her legs gently. I was feverish in my desire, but still reverent enough to respect her body. I was about to have sex with an angel.

I spread her legs and prepared to enter her. I tried pulling her head forward to look at me, but she was still surprisingly unconscious. She had begun to glow green, making her look even more angelic. Looking down on her perfect body just before penetrating her, I had only a moment of doubt. A moment to consider not fucking this angel.

I entered her with ease, and her eyes popped open. She looked at me, with no expression. Not saying anything, I pulled out and thrusted back in slowly.

Something about the lack of expression on her face was unsettling to me, but she reacted to me inside her nonetheless. It was this reaction that fueled me, and I continued fucking her, slowly at first.

Her empty eyes stared back at me, as I felt her body respond to my every movement. If the angel had anything to say with her eyes at all, it was probably confusion. About what, I am not sure.

Maybe she's never been fucked. An angel that's never been fucked by a man -- and I was the first one to do it to her. Maybe it's never been in the form of a woman before.

I hadn't a clue, but the eeriness of her stare grew right along with her physical pleasure. The two were one in the same. As I brought the angel to experience her first orgasm, it seemed more for my benefit than hers.

I started to come, and she seemed to feel it pour into her. She even looked down at where I was penetrating her, as if she knew what was entering her. And she accepted it.

Still, she looked back up to me with empty eyes.

After I came, I stayed inside her while she stared back at me. I could think of nothing to say, and she said nothing in return. I considered asking her if she knew about the creatures of the Deep, but before I could, I fell a jolt of intense pleasure come from my member.

She was massaging it with her muscles, and I felt every movement. Her body wasn't even moving when she did, and she still looked at me with an empty stare.

She had gotten me to remain hard, and I began thrusting once again. I became horrified, not by her dead stare, but by my love of it. I found myself taking her body, which she wanted me to take. She didn't want anything more than that, because that is all this angel was: a body.

I started to feel sad for her, even as I prepared to come a second time. In the moment, I could do nothing else. She only wanted me to come in her, and that is what I did.

I was about to pull out, but she held onto me with her legs. She made me continue fucking her. She moaned in pleasure, but always with those same dull eyes. I held her legs farther apart so that I could go deeper, and she looked down again as I came a third time.

Once again, I tried to pull out, but this time she sat up and grabbed me with her hands. She wrapped her legs tight around me again. She was inches from my face this time when I felt her massaging me again with her pussy.

That was when I started to realize that she was not an angel at all.

She kept staring at me as I felt her working her muscles. I didn't even need to fuck her, it seemed, because she was about to make me come again. I started to get scared and I tried to wriggle free, but she stopped me. She forced me to stay inside her, so that she could keep trying to make me come again. And she succeeded.

As I came into her yet again, she looked away and closed her eyes. It was the same look a thirsty person has when they take a drink of water.

That was it: she was thirsty.

Whatever she was, angel or not, she wanted to drink me in. She would not stop until she had every last drop. It is all she wanted.

I awakened her, and she would not let me go. I had grown scared of her, but her body found a way to communicate with mine so that it didn't matter what I thought. She had my body now, and she would have every drop of me that she wanted.

Her grip on me with her legs became incredibly strong, and I discovered her legs had grown into claw-like appendages. I looked down to find that her body had become green and scaly, with a milky membrane making up her torso. Her arms, which had wrapped around my head, were now also claw-like.

And her head was now attached to a much larger creature. She was like a dangling sack hanging from what I could only compare to a large egg-shaped creature that looks much like a tick, pattering across the ocean floor.

The membrane in the sack was clear enough that I could see my penis inside it. It was still being massaged, and the horror of seeing it did not overtake the pleasure it gave me. There was nothing I could do but let it take all I had.

It milked me, and made me come again. I watched it pour into the huge sack, to which I was clasped like a worm on a hook.

I turned to see other men like me, trapped and enslaved to sacks under the giant thing. There we stayed, even as the creature departed for its nest, and we with it.

We entered the nest, the place I now call my home. It is the place you will call your home if you are a male. I have never seen the place for females, but it is surely out there.

The mother took us into her den, where we met her spawn. There were a great many of them all waiting for Mother's catch.

So many daughters that needed to be fed.



Voices In The Night



For the love of my life. Only God could stop me loving you.
______________

"Oh God. Stop. Stop. Stop!" Julie Hargreaves screams as her car skids out of control toward the edge of the cliff. Sliding sideways along the wet icy road, her heart in her throat as her SUV skims dangerously close to the sheer drop. Closing her eyes she feels the back wheel of her car slip over the edge, her world plummeting into darkness as her head smashes hard against the side window. Her car drops from the road, coming to a sudden stop below as it crashes against the side of a tree.

* * * * * * *

The bitter cold of the wind sends shivers down his spine as the pair step outside. The gray of the sky overhead threatening a wet afternoon as they make their way towards the lake, the wind picking up speed as they move steadfastly through the thick undergrowth of the forest floor. The narrow lake spanning over ten kilometers through the center of the forest that borders the sleepy town, flowing slowly as the current eases it's hunger, sending small ripples to the surface as the white foam drifts silently toward the shore. Quietly surveying the waters, Charles finds a spot behind some low bushes. Laying out a blanket, his dog Jet sits beside as he loads the shells into the gun. 

"Ready girl?" Charles whispers as he cocks the gun, resting it against his shoulder he carefully aims at a family of ducks making their way across the lake. "What the...?" Looking back through the sight Charles focuses on the cloud of smoke making it's way through the forest from across the lake.

"Come on Jet," he says as he gathers up the blanket. "Better go check this out." Looking up puzzled, Jet follows as Charles makes his way, wading across the lake. 

The smoke billowing up into the afternoon sky as they make their way through the uncharted part of the forest. The scrub surrounding them as they stumble their way through the density of the brush. Seeing the mangled wreck ahead of them, Charles drops his knapsack and runs toward the smoldering car. Pulling desperately at the driver's door he wrenches it open. Slumping out from the opened door, her hair bloodied by the gash on the side of her face, he reaches over and unleashes the seatbelt before pulling her free from the vehicle. His old army ways suddenly taking over as he checks for a pulse, loosening her shirt as he clears her airways. 

"We'd better get away from here girl," he says as he picks up the motionless figure. "That thing looks like it could blow at any moment." Reaching down to pick up his knapsack, they make their way back toward the lake. The weight of the body slowing down their travels, breathless as they reach the shallow banks that lead back to their cabin. "Rest up Jet, this old bloke needs a breather."

Looking to be in her early forties, Charles slides a bloodied strand of hair from her face as he examines her more closely. The dried trail from a stream of blood still staining the side of her mouth, contrasting against the pale pink of her lips. Her perfectly manicured eyebrow and defined cheek bones, now bruised and bloodied, yet unable to hide the natural beauty hidden beneath. The crimson blouse stained and darker in patches from where the blood had spilled, slightly sticking to her slender shoulder. Tracing his eyes down her torso, Charles inhales slowly as he moves his gaze over her slender waist.

"She's definitely a looker," he says averting his gaze to Jet. "Come on girl, we'd better get her to the cabin and get her warmed up." Lifting her over his shoulder, they make their way across the shallow patch of water separating them from the trail leading back to the cottage. Running ahead, the old blue heeler nudges the door to the cabin open and sits on the porch waiting for her master.

* * * * * * *

"Who the fuck is she?" Margaret's voice vehement as the plate smashes hard against the wall. Her eyes narrow slits as her fists clench tight at her sides.

"I found her by the lake. Shit Maggie, I could hardly leave her there, could I?"

"But you put her in Mark's room!" Her voice raising to fever pitch, her eyes ablaze as she glares at Charles. Shaking his head he gives up trying to reason with her, not while she was in this mood. 

"Okay then," Charles says emphatically. "When she regains consciousness I'll move her out." Feeling her glare on him as he turns away, Charles walks out of the room half expecting her to follow him, relieved when she doesn't.

* * * * * * *

Feeling like a vice is closing in slowly around her skull, Julie struggles to open her eyes. With a loud moan she cups her hand against her forehead, the throbbing pain pounding inside her head. The side of her face stinging as her fingers brush lightly over the large gash, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth, she slowly blinks her eyes open. The light streaming in through the partially closed curtains burning her eyes against the darkness of the room. Suddenly realizing she has no idea where she is, fear takes over her senses. Forcing her eyes to focus she makes out the fuzzy outline of an old dresser to one side of the room. The mirror above reflecting the window, brightening the ray of sunshine invading the otherwise perfect darkness. Squinting her eyes Julie looks at the small bedside table to her left, on top is what looks like an old oil lamp with a small flame flickering, illuminating the dark glass encasing it. 

Her thoughts awakened as she suddenly senses somebody in the room. Unable to speak, her heart pounding rapidly she listens as the soft sounds of the foot steps near. As the hand moves to her forehead Julie inhales sharply, an involuntary shiver charges up her spine. 

"Well hello there," the soft voice says. The hazy image hovering beside the bed, slowly lowering as it sits down on the side of the mattress. "You had a pretty nasty accident there love." Julie's mind a mash of confusion as she opens her mouth to speak. Moaning out against the pain she instead lays back silent. "You rest up love, I'll go make you some soup. You need to build your strength up."

Watching the figure leave, the door closing silently behind, Julie struggles to raise herself. Her head feeling as though it could explode at any given moment she gives up her struggle and sighs as her head sinks back against the pillow. Hearing the shouting voice of a woman coming from somewhere outside the room she strains to hear. 

"Get her out!" Margaret hisses as Charles pours the soup into the pot. Looking up at the woman towering over his slouched figure, he shakes his head defiantly.

"It's only for a few days. She's in no condition to be moved anywhere," Charles says as he gently stirs the soup. 

Laying silent, Julie listens as the muffled voices continue to argue, no doubt fighting about her. The voices falling silent moments before she hears the soft creak of the door opening to her room. Opening her eyes still an effort as she blinks, slowly the hazy image comes into view. Her head still pounding she manages to force a smile as the figure nears the side of the bed.

"I... I heard voices," Julie manages to whisper. Placing the soup on the bedside table, Charles glances momentarily at her. 

"Sorry," Charles apologizes, "That's Margaret. She means well." Resting his hand on her forehead he sighs. "I'm sorry love, I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Charles. Charles Newport. The woman you heard is my wife, and this," he says, waving his hand as he looks around the small room, " is Mark's room. He's our son. He's away..." his voice trailing as he averts his attention back to Julie. "And your name, Miss?"

"Julie," her voice barely a whisper as she struggles over the pain to answer.

"Well, Julie, it's nice to make your acquaintance. If you need anything just holler." Realizing his mistake, he quickly adds," Maybe I should get you a bell to put beside the bed. Sorry love, you must be in a lot of pain. Your car was pretty messed up when we found you, you're one lucky lady to be alive." Making out a hazy smile, Julie manages to smile weakly in return. "I'll let you rest, Julie. I'll come back and check on you later." With that Charles makes his way out of the room closing the door softly behind him.

* * * * * * *

"Sheriff. What brings you out this late?" Charles asks as he opens the door. 

"We found a car down by Dead Man's Bend. There was no sign of the occupant, I'm just wondering if you've seen anybody wandering lost in the woods. There was a lot of blood inside the car so no doubt they'll be in need of medical attention."

Half closing the door behind him, Charles steps out onto the porch beside the Sheriff. 

"Can't say I have, sorry Sheriff." Reaching behind him, Charles pulls the door closed. "If I see anyone I'll be sure to call you."

"Well the car is registered to a Julie Hargreaves. We're still waiting for a photo to come in from the Licensing Bureau, but in the mean time if you do see anyone..." Hearing the scratching coming from behind the closed door, the sheriff looks questioningly at Charles. "My God, that's Jet?"

"Yep," Charles says, grateful at the change of topic. "The old girl's going on fourteen years now. Starting to show her age but she still loves it when I take her out to the lake." Nodding, the sheriff makes his way to his car.

"Well anyway, I'd better check with the old Simpson property, see if they've seen anyone wandering." Gesturing his farewell as he tips his hat, the sheriff climbs into his squad car and reverses out the long gravel driveway. Watching until the car disappears from view, Charles makes his way back inside locking the door behind him.

* * * * * * *

Rousing from her sleep, Julie forces open her weary eyes. Seeing the retreating figure of a woman quickly leaving her room, she opens her mouth to call out, but the pain still thumping in her head making her voice a dull, husky whisper. With a heavy sigh she watches the door finally close, leaving her alone in the darkness. With no idea of time, Julie glances toward the curtained window. Her vision still hazy, but able to make out the drapes drawn tightly together with no chance of sun or moon light getting through to give her any indication of time.

Her stomach telling her body she's hungry, she glances to the small bedside table. The soup now replaced with a glass of milk and what looks to be some kind of casserole, Julie winces as she leans over reaching for the bowl. Pulling herself up against the pillow, she sits the bowl on her lap. Her head feeling light as she fights to steady the spoon as she raises it to her mouth.

"Oh, good to see you up," Charles says as he enters the room. His smile contagious as he sits in his usual spot on the bed, Julie manages a smile. "How did you sleep? You've been asleep most of the day."

"Good," she whispers, placing the bowl on the bedside table, a moan escaping her lips as she lays back against the pillow. 

"Still having the headaches?" he asks placing the back of his hand against her forehead. Nodding, Julie closes her eyes against his touch. "I'll get you something for them. It'll help you sleep too." Smiling gratefully she leans back on the bed as he leaves the room. 

"Here, take these Julie. They'll make you feel better," Charles says as he returns, handing her two shiny red pills. 

"Thanks," she smiles, taking the pills and a glass of water from him. 

"You get some rest love," he says, raising himself from the bed, "I'll check on you in the morning."

Closing the door behind him, she lays down hoping the pills have a rapid effect, her head aching as she closes her eyes against the darkness of the room.

* * * * * * *

Her eyes open wide, the room in total darkness, feeling the body pressing heavily over hers she pulls at her arms. Her hands bound to the bed head, leaving her unable to move. Her screams muffled against the ball of what ever had been shoved into her mouth. Fighting with all her might against the hands on the back of her knees, forcing her legs apart. As the material of her panties tears from her body, Julie feels the tears falling down the sides of her face, her struggles futile against the strength of him. 

"Get the bitch," she hears from the darkness, the woman's voice vehement. Her mouth open wide in horror as she recognizes the voice as Margaret's. A new strength coursing through as Julie thrusts her hips hard against her attacker's, her legs flailing hopelessly, trying to do anything to get him off her. 

"So you like it rough?" asks the young man's sinister voice. Through the darkness she could feel his sneer.

Her mind racing as the realization of what is happening to her dawns. 'It has to be Mark.' The hands gripping her legs tight, the rough fingernails cutting into her flesh as with no warning his cock forces its way inside her. Her muscles dry, the pain of his cock tearing her muscles apart almost too much to bare. Her screams coming as a hoarse muffled whisper as she clamps her legs tight around his hips, trying to stop the onslaught of his vicious thrusts. Her body screaming 'NO' as her body deceives her thoughts. The tears rolling down her face as she feels herself lubricate as his relentless assault continues unabated.

His hips forcing his length inside her, bruising against her pelvis as he digs his fingers tighter into the back of her knees driving his cock hard and furious. Closing her eyes against the pain, silently praying for the torment to end, Julie clenches her teeth around the gag filling her mouth. His balls constantly slapping against the cheeks of her ass as his shaft pounds inside her, inhaling sharply as it bashes hard against her cervix. 

The menacing laugh of Margaret echos through the small room leaving goose bumps surfacing on Julie's pale skin. Mark's relentless abuse of her body leaving her drained, her resistance waining as his grunts intensify. With one offending thrust of his hips, she feels his member swell as he spills his seed deep inside, his breath now coming in ragged gasps. Withdrawing, then shoving himself deep as his cock spews the rest of his poison, Julie closes her eyes fighting the hatred and nausea. 

Feeling his body slump heavily onto hers, Julie bucks her hips hard against his in a final attempt to push him from her. Her efforts only driving his cock deeper, his laugh haunting against the darkness.

"The bitch likes it, Mother," Mark sneers. A new wave of tears well in her eyes as she feels his cock twitch inside her. 

"Do it to her again!" Margaret's voice threatening, sounding dangerously close as Julie waits for the next wave of abuse on her already bruised and aching body. 

His cock moving in slow, languid thrusts, with each movement Julie can feel him regaining his erection. His hands move roughly over her breasts, pinching her nipples hard through the sheer fabric of her blouse. With a lightening speed, Mark grips the fabric, pulling the shirt open, the sound of buttons hitting the bare wooden floors almost deafening as a new fear surfaces within Julie. The rough, dry hands groping her breast as he picks up the pace of his callous thrusts. Wincing against the pain of his punishing cock she sobs silently, hoping he finishes quickly. 

His hand moves between her legs, taking his cock in his hands he slides from her swollen lips and moves the slick head of his shaft over the puckered entrance to her anus.

"No!" Julie screams, the gag almost choking her as panic surfaces. Lashing her hips desperately, pulling herself away from his seeking cock. With a vicious slap across her cheek, Mark digs his fingers deep into the back of her knee, pulling her body down to his. With a brutal indifference he forces his cock past the tight resistance of her sphincter, piercing her virginal ass ignoring her agonizing screams. 

His cock filling her canal, mercilessly thrusting hard inside, withdrawing most of his length before thrashing his hips hard against hers impaling her ass with his shaft. The fire burning inside her rectum feeling like her insides are being torn as the rape continues, her mouth open in a silent scream as she tries to pull her hips away. The tightness of her ass sucking around his cock, only driving him deeper, his hips thrashing against hers in a frenzy.

His fingers feeling like they're trying to squeeze the blood from her nipple, Julie's body tenses from both the fear and pain of the attack. His thrusts exacerbating as his orgasm nears, his balls burying themselves against her cheeks as the sperm builds, the pressure rising up his shaft. With a deafening grunt his cock swells, stretching her muscles wider as he pumps his seed deep inside her anal canal. 

* * * * * * *

Almost as fast as it started, her ordeal is over. Her body burning from the assault, unable to move with the restraints still holding her wrists tight, Julie cries against the pillow. The pounding in her head now feeling like a dull ache compared to the seering, stinging pain of her bowel and bruised pelvis. Unsure exactly how long she layed there, she finally feels sleep envelop her. 

* * * * * * *

The sun streaming in from the open window hurting her eyes as she wakes from her slumber, Julie moans feeling the aching of her body as she struggles to raise herself. 

"Good morning," Charles smiles cheerily, resting a breakfast tray on the bedside table. "Sorry to wake you, but it's going to be such a nice day, just seems a waste to spend it in a room full of darkness."

Rubbing the red bruises on her wrists, Julie looks up accusingly at Charles. His happy disposition not making sense after the horrific assault that occured only hours earlier. 

"How's the head this morning?" he asks, his mood unfaultering and jovial.

"Wh... where the hell were you last night?" her words coming out through clenched teeth, not believing for a moment that he hadn't heard her screams.

"I took Jet into town," he says, a look of confusion crossing his face as he eyes his houseguest. "Sorry love, but you were fast asleep when I left, I didn't want to disturb you. I thought you'd sleep right through after taking the pills."

"Yeah, well I didn't!" Julie spat. "That sick fuck Mark raped me!" Her eyes like daggers as she glares up at him. "And Margaret? She was here too, telling him to do it again!" The heat in her face unavoidable as a fiery anger builds inside her. Charles' face turning an ashen shade of gray as he carefully avoids her gaze. 

"I'm so sorry, Julie," he stammers. "I don't know what to say." Making his way to the door he turns back to face her, "It won't happen again." 

Sitting flabbergasted, Julie watches as he closes the door, locking it behind him. A new fury surfacing as her mind races, desperately planning a way of escape. Ignoring the aches of her body she climbs out of bed, steadying herself as she stands holding the bed for support. Moving the curtain aside, careful incase anyone is outside, she peers out. Seeing the coast is clear she checks the window, only to discover it nailed shut. Her heart pounding as she hears the sounds of footsteps outside her door, she quickly climbs back into the bed as quietly as she can. 

Hearing the steps falter outside the door, Julie sits motionless, holding her breath as she strains to hear any sounds. The hum of a car making its way over what sounds like gravel suddenly fills the silence, sounding like it stops right outside her window. Julie lets out a relieved sigh as she listens to the sound of footsteps retreating from the doorway. Straining to hear she sits silent, hear heart beating loudly in her ears making it hard for her to make out the muffled voices coming from outside.

* * * * * * *

"Hey, Sheriff," Charles smiles, extending a friendly hand. "Any news of that missing girl yet?"

"Not yet," the sheriff says, taking the hand and shaking it with a firm grip. "Just got the photo sent of the missing woman. Seems her husband has been searching frantically for her."




Voices in the Night



My name is Dr. Lawrence Rondo, and I am the head research scientist for North American Paranormal Research Foundation, or the NAPRF for short. The NAPRF is a not for profit foundation that investigates paranormal and UFO cases in the United States and Canada. My staff literally pours over hundreds of letters and emails a day, and although we give each investigation a fighting chance, more than 99% of them are easily explained. 

9 days ago, my senior staffer Veronica brought me in a handwritten letter from a lady that I will call "Mary". Mary lived in a small community in central Idaho, and found the foundation with a quick Google search. Here is a copy of her letter that we received on May 10th, 2011.

To whom it may concern:

My name is "Mary Smith", and I live with my husband and 2 young children 8 miles west of the town of Arco, Idaho. I was home alone last night for the first time since my children were born. My husband left town to go to a funeral, and I had to stay home for work. My shift starts early, so I was in bed by 9pm, and was asleep shortly after. I was woken up at 2:38 to someone calling my name. It was a voice that was not familiar to me, and the voice did not seem to be distressed. It was simply calling my name as if to get my attention. I am not a scared woman by nature, and the loaded pistol in my nightstand helped with my confidence to investigate the voice. My first reaction was that a neighbor was standing outside an open window trying to wake me, but you can never be too careful. 

Once I left the bedroom, I could not find the source of the voice. I turned on the flood lights that were on each side of the house, and turned on the 2 yard lights that lit the path and driveway to the barn. I will not go in to the reasoning for these lights, but these lights were enough bathe our entire yard in bright lights. I checked each window and the front door before venturing outside. The air was filled with the kind of silence that 2:45 in the morning brings to a farmhouse. The cows were quiet, the dogs weren't barking, and the only sound was the humming from the large overhead lights. I whistled for the dogs, and after a few seconds they came running up to me. I ordered them to find the squirrel, knowing that they would run around the house a few times, looking for the critter they would never find. I knew that is someone was prowling around, or someone had been prowling around, my trusty cow dogs would find them.

The dogs made one lap around the house, ran out to the field, came back to check on me, started another lap around the house, and that was the last time I saw them until a quite some time later . They never barked, or made any other sound for that matter. After a few minutes, I whistled for them, and still nothing. My heart was racing at this point, and I chambered a round in to the pistol. I called for the dogs a few more times before going back in to the house. I was in my bedroom getting dressed when I heard the voice again, calling my name. I could tell that it was coming from my still open front door this time, and raced back out, loaded gun in hand to find the house and the yard still empty. Each subsequent time I went in to my bedroom, I heard the voice again, and each time I came out to still find no one there. I grabbed my clothes and dressed in the bathroom with the door partly closed. I didn't hear the voice while I was in the bathroom, but when I went to go get my cell phone from the nightstand, I heard it once again. 

My hands were shaking at this point, and as I tried to scroll the addresses to find Sherriff Taylor, I inadvertently hit another button, and was staring down at the tools menu. The 3rd thing down in the menu was "voice notes". The idea hit me to go back in to the bedroom and record the voice I was hearing. Right on cue, the voice started again. I let the phone record for 3 minutes or so, and although the playback wasn't that great, but the voice in the background was unmistakable. 

I called the Sherriff and had to leave a voicemail. For some reason, I had made the decision that my issues was not important enough to call 911, and in hindsight, I probably should have. The Sherriff didn't call me back until 8 this morning, long after everything took place. I didn't want to call my husband and have him worry for no reason, and again, I probably should have. Although there would have been nothing he could've done over 1000 miles away. 

The voice stopped sometime after 4am, and they dogs came back at some point after that. They were both soaking wet, covered in mud, and soaking wet. I turned the lights off and sent them back to the barn, and did what I could to get some sleep. It was 4:31 when I was woken up again. Only this time, the voice was coming from inside my bedroom, directly behind me. 

The loaded pistol was still on the nightstand, and half a second later was in my hand pointed in the direction of the voice. My eyes took a second to adjust, but immediately I saw it was a man I didn't recognize. My voice faltered as I tried to ask him who he was, and why he was in my house. He politely asked me to lower my gun, and as my eyes adjusted even more, saw that he was in a military uniform. I did not lower my gun, and once again asked him who he was and why he was in my house. 

His reasoning for being in my house was as farfetched as any story I had ever heard. I wouldn't have given him the time that I did had it not been for his uniform and bodyguard that I found waiting for us in my kitchen. The bodyguard was also dressed in military style clothing, but he wore a protective facemask and protective body armor. He had a black rifle in his hand, and pointed it at me as I led the first man in by gunpoint. The man from me bedroom asked the bodyguard guy to lower his weapon, and asked if he could sit down at my kitchen table. 

This was his story to me. His name was Agent Stanik from the NSA. He told me that he was here from the future, 5 years in the future to be exact. He told me that he was here to protect me from forces that were outside of my understanding. In the future, I was the sole witness to the first American confirmed UFO landing. He told me that on May 9, 2011, at 2:38 in the morning, I was awoken by the sound of my name being called, and found a UFO the size of a schoolbus sitting in my front yard. These beings had picked my front yard because the coordinates were the same as each of their prior visits. The beings, who were unlike humans in every way, answered all my your questions, allowed me to take pictures and then they gave me an object the size of a soda can. It was this object that he know held in his hand.

The object that was given to me in the future was my further proof that an alien race had made contact. I was given instructions to get in touch with the people of power from my country, and tell them what had happened, as well as a way to contact them again. (The Captain did not go in to that). The device he held in his hand was a transporter. It was able to transport anyone within a preset range to anywhere else, and transport them in the future or the past within 5 years. It took the government all of that time to figure out what it did, and they didn't believe what I told them. They said my pictures and videos were fake, and the object that I gave them was actually a piece of melted aluminum. By the time they figured out what it was, they tried to contact the aliens like they were instructed to do. It was too late. The aliens took the governments non-contact as an act of hostility. The aliens were going to invade earth and wipe out the human population in 72 hours. 

The captain then explained that they came back to tell me what to say and who to tell to get my facts across to the government. For the next hour, he did just that. This letter to you is part of those instructions. By the time you get this, I will have already been contacted by the aliens, if his story is to be believed. You may contact me after May 9th, but not until then. 

Sincerely, Mary Smith. 

Once that letter was received, we tried numerous times to contact Mrs. Smith. After a day, 2 people from my staff, and I , flew out to Idaho to find Mrs. Smith. We made numerous inquiries to her neighbors, spoke to the Sherriff, attempted to track her phone, all to no avail. Her husband and children showed up at the house the next day and immediately filed an official missing person's report. A massive search effort took place over 5 counties, and my team and I left 3 days later. 

3 days ago, we received an anonymous call stating that Mary Smith was being held in a detention center, and that our efforts to locate Mrs. Smith were appreciated, but no longer needed. We were advised to cease our search immediately. 

We have many tools here at our disposal, so we continued our search for Mrs. Smith in "quiet" mode. The next day, I was visited by Agent Stanik and a team of government goons who attempted to confiscate every document, every computer and every record we had under the guise of a National Security issue. The one thing they didn't find was Mary Smith's cell phone. The cell phone was sent via overnight mail to me the day we got back from Idaho. 

Her husband had found the cell phone in their barn and he had a neighbor send it from a neighboring town. The cell phone was sent to a PO box rented under the name of one of our benefactors. It is these recordings found on this cell phone that I am sending as attachments to this email. These recording are:

Smith1.mp3: Voices heard the first night.

Smith2.mp3: Recording with Agent Stanik, next morning. 

Smith3.mp3: Voices heard on May 9th.

Smith4.mp3: Conversation with unknown people and Mrs. Smith on May 9th. 

This letter is to be published in it's entirety and when possible, the audio files should be published with them. 

Dr. Lawrence Rondo, PHd.



Voices In The Night



"I hope they find her soon then," Charles says, taking a nervous glance toward the side of the house.

"Here's a recent photo of her, Charles," the sheriff says, holding a paper out for him. "She may be dazed and disoriented, so keep your eyes open."

"Will do," Charles nods as the sheriff makes his way to his car. 

* * * * * * *

Taking a nervous breath, Julie sneaks out of bed and peers out the window. Seeing Charles talking to the Sheriff her heart skips a beat. Not caring anymore who hears her, she screams at the top of her lungs to attract his attention. 

"Help!" she screams. Bashing on the window she sees the sheriff look up from over his car. Waving frantically, her jubilation sending tears streaming down her cheeks.

"What the...?" Pulling his gun from its holster, the Sheriff aims it at Charles. "Arms in the air! Now!" he orders, keeping the gun aimed, arms out straight in front., he keeps his eyes fixated on Charles. Reaching inside his car he grabs his radio mic. "Jacobs? I'm at the Newport property. Get a car and an ambulance out here now! I've found the missing Hargreaves woman, see if you can get in touch with her husband too."

Marching Charles inside the cabin, his gun aimed cautiously at him, the Sheriff makes his way to the locked bedroom door. 

"Mrs. Hargreaves, this is the Sheriff. Stand away from the door." With an almighty kick, the door is flung open. Falling into his protective arms, Julie sobs against his shoulder.

"Oh, thank God!" she cries. A look of sheer terror crossing her face as she looks over the Sheriff's shoulder. Following her gaze he spins around.

The shotgun aimed at the pair, Charles stands his face emotionless. The wig placed askew as he casually cocks the gun.

"You shouldn't have come here, Sheriff," Margaret's voice rings out. "She's nothin' but a tramp."

"Put down the gun, Charles," the Sheriff cautions, slowly lowering his own weapon to the floor. "Nobody is going to get hurt Charles, just put down the gun."

"Do I look like that wimpy little coward?" Margaret voice shouts mockingly, a look of utter disgust crossing Charles' face. "I'm Margaret!" he hisses.

"Margaret has been dead for years, Charles." The Sheriff edges warily closer, now mere inches from the end of the shot gun. "She died with Mark when the old factory exploded."

"Liar!" Raising the gun, Charles cocks, ready to fire. 

"It's okay, Charles," the Sheriff says soothingly. "We'll get you help. Just put the gun down." With his hands held out in front, his palms flat facing Charles he inches his way closer. 

Waving the gun menacingly in his face, Margaret sneers. 

"You think you're so smart, don't you? Mark and I didn't die in that fire." Without warning Charles pulls the trigger, the Sheriff falling heavily at Julie's feet.

The screams resounding, deafening inside the confinements of the room, Julie falls to her knees sobbing. 

"No!" she screams, looking up with tear stained eyes at Charles/Margaret. Staring down, leering at her, Charles laughs that same haunting laugh that sends shivers racing up Julie's spine. The memory of that night sending another wave of tears stinging her eyes. Looking up into the barrel of his gun, she sobs, not caring anymore if she lives or dies. 

"This one's for you bitch," Charles says as he cocks the gun. Closing her eyes tight, Julie clenches her teeth as the earsplitting sound of a gun firing stings her ears. Hearing the thud of something hitting against the door, she slowly opens her eyes. Charles' body lays slumped against the door, a smear of blood staining the paint from where he had slid. The deputy sheriff moves into view, his gun still aimed at the slumped figure.

"Julie, are you okay?" Not waiting another second she gets to her feet, almost stumbling as she runs from the room. An ambulance officer grabs her and holds her close, rocking her gently as the tears spill Smoothing her hair softly, he wraps a blanket over her shoulders and leads her outside.

* * * * * * *

Sitting alone in his room, Charles sits silently. His arms restrained tight inside the confinements of the white jacket, the sleeves overlapping his body, meeting as they buckle snugly behind his back. Looking up through the small square window, he sees the Doctor peering momentarily at him before entering.

"Good morning, Charles," the psychiatrist says, taking a seat opposite him as he rests his notepad on the small table separating the pair.

"Good morning, Doctor Evans."

"Good morning, Margaret," picking up his pen and pad, he waits for Margaret to surface. With a leer Charles face contorts to that of his dead wife's.

"Hmmph," Margaret snorts.

"Is Mark here today?" the psychiatrist asks, casually scribbling in his pad as he waits for the boy to answer.

"Don't answer him, Mark!" Margaret's voice snarls.

"It's okay, Mother," Mark's voice says as Charles' face takes on a slightly softer expression. "Good morning, Doc."

* * * * * * *

Julie lays quietly in her husband's arms. The memory of her experience only surfacing when she hears that haunting laugh in her nightmares. Six months later, her life is gradually returning to normal. The soft knock on the door rousing the pair from their rested state. Pulling on her robe, she clambers from the bed and makes her way to the front of their modest house. Her mouth agape as she opens the door.

"Sheriff!" Throwing her arms warmly around his neck she kisses his cheek tenderly. His arm supported by a slim band running from behind his neck to his wrist. "How's the shoulder?"

"It's getting there," he smiles. Nodding as Mike makes his way up the hallway. 

"Hey, Sheriff," Mike says, fastening the waist tie on his robe before extending his hand for a warm handshake. "Come in, I'll put on the kettle."

"Thanks." Making their way inside, Julie closes the door gently behind the trio as they make their way to the kitchen.

* * * * * * *

The psychiatrist lays in a pool of blood, the bloodied pen reflecting the light as the sounds of Margaret's laugh echo through the silent corridors...



Voices



The lone finger tantalized her clit for a long time as the water lapped deliciously over her body. But she could not be denied and as the rhythmic erotic sounds of Mea Culpa played, her fingers became frenzied against her clit until she cried out in passion, an orgasm overwhelming her with it's ferocity. She writhed in the water, paying no attention to the splashes that landed on the floor and puddled there. Arching her back, the final throes of her climax taking her away to another place...she cried out again and again, no longer the subdued professional but more the wanton wild woman. Her body shuddered in the tub and the waves tumbled over the sides but Lily didn't care. For just a few moments, she was in heaven.

As the music calmed, her body relaxed and she sank exhausted back into the water. Heaving a great sigh, she realized that she needed a man and needed one soon. This being alone was for the birds and she longed for a gentle lover to slide into her body and make her feel alive again. She longed for Jack.

Chapter 6

Jack's hand moved faster, stroking his throbbing cock, the head, deep red, almost purple. He stretched out his legs as he picked the phone up again, his thigh muscles taut, his balls aching. The phone in his left hand, held to his ear, his right hand sliding up and down his cock, the precum literally oozing from the swollen, angry colored head. He was close, so close. His breathing became deeper, he needed to cum and that need was too powerful, he needed it and now. The hand moved, his fingers squeezed. His thoughts, the thoughts of her, the hardness of her nipples, her full breasts overflowing from the nightdress, the nipples poking, pushing. "Fuckkkk" he thought to himself as he felt the build up, the spasms that started in his balls, his cock twitching. He needed to cum. He had to cum, now.

"Lily, I need to go, something has come up that needs my urgent attention, let me call you again in the morning, bye for now." He replaced the receiver, opened his dark blue shirt, exposing his strong muscular stomach, the deep tan. His muscles tightened as his hand worked hard on his cock. His breathing quickened. "Oh fuckkkk, yessss" he moaned as he felt the familiar feeling mount from his balls, driving the cum from them, up his shaft, to spurt long and high, splattering his stomach, his chest. His hand, blurring speed, massaged his cock as the eruption continued, sending the contents of his balls over his body. He took a deep, deep breath as the orgasm subsided, as the cum ran down his stomach, as his cock leaked the cum over his strong fingers, fingers that squeezed, fingers that coaxed more out of his cock, draining his heavy balls.

"Fuck" he said as he cleaned himself, his body shuddered as he wiped the sensitive head of his cock, throwing the tissues into the bin by the side of the desk. "Fuck, I want her." he said out loud to himself.

The remainder of the day passed, his thoughts still hung around her body, a body that he now had the image firmly implanted into his brain. His mind worked hard, planning, thinking, deciding. "Hell, I need a beer." he said to no one in particular. He also wanted to meet the voice on the other end of the phone, he wanted to meet, greet and lay the voice. "Damn" he said out loud again. "I need to fuck her".

He left the sanctuary of his office, went down to the shop floor, found Lee in his office. Lee was Jack's 'right hand', his knowledge of the trade, even for one as young as he, was stupendous. Jack relied on Lee, often leaving him to run the store. Lee was also a hit, a VERY big hit with the ladies. He stood some 3 inches over Jack's 6 foot frame, his muscular body, some 30 lbs heavier than Jack's own 210. His light mulatto colored skin, the shaved head, the large brown eyes, the gleaming smile, yes, a hit with the ladies, especially the way he dressed, his tight pants clearly outlined the length, the bulge, yes indeed, a very big hit.

"Hey Lee, come on, I need a fucking drink man." Jack said to him as he poked his head around the door. Jack's mind was racing. How? How does he get Lily to come down south? How? Lee would be the inspiration, Lee would come up with the idea, the way. He'd know. 

They went into the bar, just a short three blocks from the store. Jack ordered the necessary and they sat and talked. It was Lee who broached the subject, of why his boss looked so perplexed, the way his mind kept wandering. Jack laughed and then told Lee the story, the whole story. How her voice made him stroke, made him cum. 

"Hell Lee, I shot loads over me, she's so hot I tell ya, I've gotta have this one." Jack said bursting into a laugh.

Lee laughed, his white teeth contrasting against the light brown skin, the color obtained from his black Father and his white Mother. "Hey Jack, no problem man." Lee said with conviction. "Yeah, no problem man, it's easy, let's have an opening show of her line, easy man'.

"Fuck." Jack said. It was that simple. Dumb bastard he said to himself. His mind was too much into her breasts, her nipples, her tanned body. He didn't, wasn't, couldn't think straight. "Lee, I love you!" Jack said to him. Lee laughed and replied, "Hey Jack, I love ya too, but I ain't gonna suck that dick, well not here anyways."

"Teaser!" Jack said as his hand slid under the table, ran up the tight leather pants of Lee, his fingers coming to rest on the bulge contained so tightly. Lee smiled as he felt Jack's fingers stroking his cock. He nervously looked around the bar, as Jack pressed down on his growing cock. "Then later Lee." Jack said as he dragged his fingers down the monstrous cock, visibly growing as he stroked. 

Jack's mind raced back to Lily. His thoughts. What would she do if she found out that Jack swung both ways? What would she think if she knew that Jack enjoyed sucking cocks as much as he enjoyed licking pussy? He smiled as he and Lee drank the beer, ordering a fresh pitcher, wondering perhaps if he could create a threesome out of this.

Chapter 7

The next morning dawned bright as Lily awoke to a glorious sunrise. She stretched her lithe body until she felt somewhat awake and then climbed out of bed. Shaking her tousled hair, she ran her fingers through it and got up to get ready for work.

She looked at her clothes with a discerning eye and chose a pastel pink suit made of silk. The material draped her body and outlined her curves and yet the professional look remained. She quickly donned the outfit adding a small white lily from a floral bouquet. Pinning her hair up, she drank some orange juice and was out the door in less than 30 minutes. 

Arriving first at the office was nothing new for her. She had been somewhat of a workaholic ever since she was young and was always full of energy. Indeed she had run track for several years and tended to go jogging to keep in shape. The first thing she did at work each morning was check her phone messages. She was surprised to find one from Jack, apologizing for the abrupt ending to yesterday's phonecall. He mentioned calling back this morning and she added him to her calendar. Just the thought of him gave her a little tingle. She was starting to have ideas about him....nice ones at that.

Melanie pulled up in her Lexus and Lily smiled wondering not for the first time if she overpaid her employees. This didn't last long though because Melanie was worth her weight in gold. Her long thick blond hair was braided today and the butterfly tattoo on her back could be clearly seen. Melanie attracted both sexes and never made a secret of her bisexuality. Lily herself was "strictly dickly" as one friend was fond of saying and she never really entertained the thought of another woman. Once in a while the idea of being with two men invaded her mind and today was one of those times. She pondered what it would be like to have two men devote themselves to pampering her body as well as arousing themselves with each others tongues. She knew that she wouldn't get much work done unless she focused on something else.

Deciding that now was as good a time as any, Lily headed for the changing room to try on a new item that had arrived yesterday. It was a pair of fishnet stockings and she was thinking of wearing them to an upcoming party. As she carefully placed her fingers into the material and began to roll the stockings up her leg, she again thought of a man caressing her calf with his strong hands. Jack's hands. She sighed and finished putting on the stockings, and stepped into some black stiletto heels that were nearby. Turning in the mirror, she nodded her approval at the look. She grabbed a silk robe and threw it on, walking out to Melanie to strut her stuff. Smiling provocatively at her assistant, Lily said in a husky voice, "What do you think?"

Melanie's tongue was hanging out and Lily started to laugh when suddenly the phone rang. Her breath caught in her throat. In her fun she'd forgotten the time and knew it was Jack. By the time she got to her office the phone was on it's third ring. She grabbed the receiver and picked it up saying, "Hello? Jack?"

"Hi Lily." He said and added for kicks, "What are you wearing?"

Chapter 8

Teasing Lee all the time, Jack's fingers ran up and down the leather clad leg, his fingers stroked, pressed into the thickness as it grew.

"Come on, let's go" Jack said to his lover, as he squeezed his cock, the soft leather not stopping the heat rising from the growing cock. The short drive to Jack's house, short, but still enough time for Lee to unzip Jack's pants, to take out the hard cock, to run his thumb over the head, to squeeze it. Jack moaned as he felt Lee's hot breath, then his hot mouth taking the tip of his hard cock inside. Jack needed to fuck Lee's mouth, needed his cock to explode in his mouth, he needed Lee's cock in his mouth, in his ass.

Stopping the car, both got out, in a hurry. Once the door was open, Jack turned to his lover, without a second thought, sunk to his knees, running his hands up and down Lee's strong thighs, over the large bulge, his nails raking that bulge. Looking up at the smiling face, the even white teeth, Jack smiled.

"Ready for this Lee?" Jack asked as he unzip the leather pants. Naked underneath, the black cock sprung out, the bulbous head, the strong throbbing cock. Jack looked at it. He had seen it thousands of times, he had stroked and sucked it a thousand times, maybe more, but every time he saw it, his heart raced, his mouth needed it, his ass needed it. Lovingly, he held the black cock, lovingly his fingers ran over the head, up and down the shaft, over the thick bulging vein on the underside. Licking his lips, encircling his fingers around the girth, he lowered his mouth, taking the head into his mouth. He felt Lee pushing, forcing his cock deeper. Jack took him, took the whole length, deep throating the cock, as deep as he could, feeling the soft leather on his chin. His head bobbed up and down, Lee's hips thrust forwards, powering his cock deep into Jack's hungry mouth. He felt Lee's hands on his head, felt the fingers gripping his hair as he forced his cock deeper, fucking the hot mouth on his cock. Jack took the cock as he peeled the leather pants off of Lee, tugging them down the muscular thighs, freeing his balls, heavy balls, balls full of his cream, full of his cum, cum that Jack wanted in his mouth, down his throat.

Taking those balls in his hand, Jack rolled them as his head bobbed, as the cock powered into his throat, as Lee's hands held Jack's head tight to his body. Cupping the heavy balls as he released the cock, his tongue licking those balls, then taking each of them, one by one, into his mouth, sucking on each one before taking his cock deep again. 

Hearing Lee's breathing increase, the moans, the power of his hands holding, forcing, his head. Jack knew he was close, close to sending the contents of those balls in his hand, sending the white hot cum into his throat. Jack wanted it, needed it. He sucked harder, his head bobbed up and down faster, his fingers crept under his partners ass, stroked the tight entrance to his ass, then feeling Lee's cock twitch, hearing his deep throaty moan, he sunk his finger deep into his ass sending Lee over the top, sending him into raptures.

Jack took the eruption, took the explosion, gagging as he swallowed his partner's cum, droplets escaping his lips, dribbling down his chin. Jack continued to suck, to swallow, draining Lee's balls, draining the cum from him.

"Oh yes Jack, fuckkkk, yes, take it, fuckkkk yes" Lee moaned as his cock pumped his seed into the thirsty, hungry throat.

Jack released Lee's cock, licking the tip, cleaning it, cleaning the last remnants of cum as it seeped from the eye. Taking the cock in his hand, he stroked it, squeezed it as he looked up, the beads of sweat running down Lee's smooth hairless chest.

Standing, Jack released the grip to Lee's cock, watched as it softened. Marveled at the size, even when soft. So big, so thick.

Jack smiled at Lee as he turned away, undressing, throwing his shirt and pants on the bed as he stepped under the shower, lathering his body. Lee soon joined him, taking over the lathering, the soaping. Jack leaned back against the mosaic wall as Lee's hands ran up and down his body. He sighed as he felt Lee's fingers grasping his cock, as his fingers rubbed the soap onto his balls. The water cascading over their bodies. Jack smiled as he saw the razor in his partner's hand. How he loved the way Lee shaved his balls, never a moment's worry of being cut and most of all, the way he would suck him afterwards, the way his lips, his tongue would bring him to an orgasm. However, Jack wanted his ass, he wanted to fill Lee's ass, fuck his tight, hot ass. He moaned as Lee's fingers lifted his balls, as the razor scraped away the last of the hair, as his mouth closed around his cock, his teeth scraping, biting, nibbling at his hardness, taking him deep.

Jack pulled Lee up. "Turn round Lee" Jack said to him, his breathing ragged, his cock throbbing, so hard, so rampant. He needed to fuck Lee, needed to pound his cock deep into his ass. Lee smiled, he knew the position, he knew the way Jack wanted him, he knew he needed his ass. Leaning against the wall, his ass high in the air, his legs spread. Jack brought his hand down hard, slapping the tight cheeks, the hard muscular ass. Moving behind him, Jack holding his cock as he spread his cheeks. The water running down, over the crack, over the hole that Jack would power his cock into, deep and hard.

Guiding the tip of his throbbing cock to Lee's hole, feeling Lee clench and then release as Jack slapped his ass again. Jack heard him groan, moan as he slammed his cock into Lee's ass. One thrust sent the whole length deep. Jack growled, grunted as he slammed back and forth, slamming his hard cock deep, fucking Lee's ass deep and hard. It didn't take long, not long at all. Jack let out a loud groan. "Fuck Lee, yes, I am cumming, cumming, cumming" he groaned out loud as he felt Lee tighten his ass, tighten his muscle, clenching, holding, squeezing Jack's cock. They both moaned as Lee felt the cum enter his ass, Jack moaned as he felt his cock spurt, as he came, emptying his balls, deep into Lee's ass.

They arrived for work the next morning, both refreshed, both happy, especially Jack, his mood was buoyant, jovial. It showed as he called Lily's number, hearing her voice, sending a shiver down his spine, sending the familiar feeling to his cock, it twitched as he said….."Hi Lily, what are you wearing?" He laughed….

Chapter 9

Lily tightened the belt around her robe after hearing Jack ask what she was wearing. It was almost as if he could see her. With only her bra and stockings underneath, she felt naked to his voice.

"Why are you asking me that?" she nervously said. Jack started laughing and explained that he was just teasing. Lily visibly calmed and sat down in the chair. The door was open and she heard Melanie turn on the music in the outer office. Upbeat rhythms of Elton John flowed across the room as Jack continued to talk about his latest show, mentioning his friend Lee as one of his inspirations. 

"Lily you've got to come down to Atlanta to my opening and meet Lee...that's all there is to it." As soon as she heard the words Lily knew she'd have to fly down. Jack went on to describe what he had planned to show and what the models would be wearing.

"I've been thinking about what you said regarding having the power over men and I want my models to have the same effect. There will be younger and older women alike, small and large busted ladies for all to see. Not just for sex appeal mind you but for the purpose of seeing that any size or age can look good in sexy clothing given the right atmosphere. It's all in the way you present yourself."

Lily listened with rapt attention as Jack continued, finding herself once again drawn to his voice. She played with the strands of her hair that she'd unpinned, wrapping tendrils around her fingers without realizing what she was doing, and her legs parted as Jack's voice seduced her. Her robe opened a bit and her pale breasts pushing against the bra were quite a contrast to the black silk robe that she wore. Her tan only accented the look as well as the stockings she wore. She kicked off the high heels and made herself comfortable, finally putting Jack on speaker phone so for once Melanie could hear this voice that Lily had gone on and on about.

"Lily if you were to be one of my models, do you know what I'd have you wear?"

Lily found this line of questioning quite interesting and played along, "No Jack, what would you have me wear?" She drew her finger around the phone cord and stared at the speaker, her tongue outlining her lips as if Jack's voice were a succulent strawberry that needed devoured.

"Knowing your blond tresses would look lovely highlighted against a dark blue, I'd have you wear an indigo teddy that barely covered your body. It would fit tight over the bodice to accentuate your breasts and your nipples would almost peek over the top. I would want every man in the room to want those nipples in his mouth, for that matter, the ladies too. The pinkness of them would harden as the clients gazed at the feast in front of them, and your body would silence them as they watched you walk down the aisle."

Lily tried to swallow but found she couldn't. Her body once again was in need and as Jack went into full southern sexmode talk she found herself wanting to have him inside her, whispering soft words in her ear as he rocked her body gently back and forth. 

"Go on." She whispered and literally heard Jack smile as he went on. She pulled out a vibrator from her desk drawer...Jr. they called it because it was small. Sometimes looking at the portfolios of models caused all the employees at her company to become aroused and as a joke one Christmas she bought them all vibrators...even the men. Funny thing was, she knew they were used on a constant bases because she kept getting requests for batteries.

Jack went on to describe how the crotch of the teddy would fit snug against her pussy and that the appearance of her wet juices would only increase sales. At that point she told Jack she'd have to call him back. His voice had once again lured her into submission and she was drowning in desire but still too embarrassed to let him know. She disconnected him and laid her head back on the chair as Robert Palmer's Simply Irresistible started playing, the beat pounding in her head and spurring her on. Of all songs to play now. She'd once danced to the song with an old boyfriend. The dance ended up with them fucking behind a stairwell as they both got so carried away with passion.

Her methods are inscrutable The proof is irrefutable She's so completely kissable Our lives are indivisible She's a craze you'd endorse, she's a powerful force You're obliged to conform when there's no other course She used to look good to me, but now I find her ...Simply irresistible ...Simply irresistible




Voices



The sexuality of the song enticed her and knowing no other employees would be in for at least 30 minutes she turned on the vibrator, not caring if Melanie heard it but hoping she'd give her some privacy. She was wrong.

Melanie immediately appeared in the doorway, her hair in a ponytail by this time, looking young and fresh as always. Lily turned off the toy and smiled at her friend. Melanie gave a quick grin and said, "What...not using the "maestro" today?" That caused Lily to laugh as they both knew the larger more lifelike vibrator was at home in Lily's drawer. Then Melanie got serious as she looked slowly over Lily's body and the way her breasts almost spilled out of the bra.

"Lily...you know I'm bisexual and have never made an advance on you. But....I think I could help you this time. Nothing will continue after today but....I'm your friend and your nipples are hard as a rock and they need some tender loving care. Let me take care of them for you." 

Lily's eyes darkened with lust. She hadn't counted on Melanie interfering but now she realized that having her nipples licked as Jack had talked about, would only enhance her experience right then. She beckoned Melanie by opening her robe a little more and Melanie walked over...pushing the robe off her arms and onto the chair. Lily's bra was the only protection left now and Melanie slowly raised her fingers giving her a last chance to say no. Lily merely closed her eyes and once again laid her head back on the headrest of the chair. Melanie pulled the bra down over Lily's full breasts and then got down on her knees and started out by gently touching her friend, caressing underneath Lily's breasts and holding them in her hand. She reached down and turned the vibrator on as Lily held it in her hand. Not wanting to upset her friend, Melanie knew she wouldn't do anything below the waist, she'd leave that to Lily. 

Looking at Lily's perfect breasts took Melanie's breath away. She'd never told her that as far as she was concerned, Lily had the most beautiful breasts she'd ever seen...and she'd seen a lot. She lowered her soft mouth to Lily's left breast and began to lick her gently right where her tan line met the white creamy flesh. Lily sighed and moved her hand to her moist pussy, keeping her eyes closed and just reveling in the feel of a woman's tongue on her body. Melanie was an expert and stayed on the tops of Lily's breasts for the longest time. Then as Lily's moans got louder, she teased her way down to a nipple and concentrated on making circles around the aureoles, moving the tip of her tongue over the tiny bumps that formed on the circle. Lily didn't want to move and yet she was squirming in her chair, knowing that her climax would happen swiftly and with great force. Melanie's tongue kept working it's magic until right before Lily came, Melanie started sucking on the nipples, her mouth taking in as much breast as possible until Lily cried out and instinctively pushed her body towards Melanie. Melanie almost lost it then but kept her mouth solid on her treasure, enjoying the sounds that her friend was making. Lily's body shuddered with her orgasm and she came several times, dampening the leather chair with her juices. Then Melanie slowed down her tongue movements and started kissing Lily's nipples and breasts with delicate small touches, allowing Lily to lie back in the chair and recover. 

Finally Lily turned off the toy and sighed, dropping the vibrator on the floor and smiling at Melanie.

"Thank you Melanie, that was quite.......exhausting." she grinned.

"What are friends for?" Melanie said. She pulled herself off the floor and left the room quickly, not wanting Lily to become embarrassed. After several minutes of debate, Lily picked up the phone and called Jack back...leaving the following message on his answering machine, knowing soon she'd be meeting the man that belonged to the golden voice.

Chapter 10

Jack woke, he turned and noticed that Lee had left the bed. He thought he had left totally then smiled as he heard the dulcet tones from the shower. Jack laid there, his hand drifted down to his already erect cock. His fingers closed around it, his thumb rubbed over the tip, parting the slit. Removing the sheet from his body, Jack parted his legs, his tight hand firmly gripping his throbbing cock, the thick shaft, the pulsing blue vein. He felt the blood pumping through that vein as he squeezed tighter. His left hand moved to his balls, cupping them. 

Closing his eyes, he thought of her, of her breasts, her nipples. His hand moved up and down. He heard Lee entering the room. He opened his eyes, he smiled as he saw his male lover standing by the bed. His light brown skin glistened with the residue of the shower. Jack looked down the strong body, the muscular stomach, the strong arms, thighs, the long thick cock, the big hairless balls. Jack reached out, his left hand touched the flaccid cock. As if by magic, his touch caused the slight twitching of Lee's cock. His fingers closed around the now growing shaft. Both hands, now full, full of cock. Jack began to stroke, himself and Lee. 

Lee lowered his head as Jack still stroked his now hard cock, his mouth inches from the tip of Jack's cock. Jack moaned as Lee blew over the tip, pursing his lips. He moved Jack's hand away, took Jacks cock in his hand, held it upwards. "Oh fuck Lee, yes, yes, do it, fuck yes" Jack moaned as he knew what his lover was going to do. His hand tightened on Lee's cock as he watched his mouth lowering, his wide open mouth, the gleaming white teeth, such a contrast against his skin. "Ohhhhh fuck" Jack groaned as he felt the warmth form Lee's mouth over his cock, but still no contact, just the warm breath. Jack squeezed Lee's cock, he knew, he damn well knew that Lee was going to suddenly close his mouth on him, that he would soon slam his mouth and throat down on his cock. Jack's heart raced, he waited, the anticipation building. "Yes Lee, now, do it, do it". Jack was almost begging, pleading. His grip on Lee's cock intensified. He let out a loud groan as Lee suddenly slammed his mouth down, his teeth clenching, taking the whole length into his mouth and throat. Jack felt the teeth as they scraped up and down, felt Lee's fingers sliding under his ass, felt a finger touch, probe, press and then enter his ass. "Ohhhhh my goddddd" Jack groaned feeling the finger enter, sinking, the mouth, the teeth, sucking and biting. Even after so soon, he was almost there, almost ready to cum. Lee knew, he knew the feeling, the body twitching, the spasms. Quickly, Lee spun him over. Jack let out a groan, he knew. 

Getting on all fours, Jack braced himself, braced his body. Lee's finger rammed in deep and then withdrew. Jack felt the bed move, felt the bed take Lee's weight. He felt Lee's hands grabbing his hips, felt the tip of his lovers cock start to probe his hole. "Fuckkkkk" Jack screamed as he slammed his ass back, as he felt Lee's hard throbbing cock enter him, filling him, fucking him. He felt his balls slapping against the backs of his thighs.

* * * * * * * * 

The open topped BMW pulled up at the stop light. "Hell man, ask the damn woman if you want her to fly down for the opening night" Lee said to Jack as he slipped the car into first. The tires gripped the black tarmac of the road as he shot across the intersection, turning left and pulling into the store parking lot. Jack got out as Lee turned off the ignition. He will, he will ask her. As he dialed the number, his thoughts were upon her. He felt the heart rate increase, he felt his cock increase. The thoughts of her nipples, her breasts, the way she explained, no, the way she gave him the details of her walking barefoot, the way her nipples felt hard, the way the guys looked at her. He wanted her, he wanted her pussy, her nipples. He wanted. Unaware, unrehearsed she answered the phone. His mind was still on her outfit, her nipples. 

"Hi Lily, it's Jack. What are you wearing?" 

Shit, fuck he thought to himself, why the hell did he say that? He heard the silence, the nervousness at the other end, her end. His mind raced, his thoughts raced. He needed to respond to her asking why he had asked her that. He laughed, he blushed, quickly explaining that he was only teasing. His thoughts still on her nipples, her full tanned breasts, her blonde tresses. He went on to say to her that she just had to come down to Atlanta to the opening night, to see the designs, to see the complete set up, the models wearing her designs. He explained he wanted all women, regardless of bust size, to feel wanted, to feel sexy, to look good. He told her that Lee and he would collect her from the airport, no expense would be spared, a limo, big black limo.

All the time he was talking, his hand rubbed the now fully erect cock through his pants. Fully erect, even though no longer than 45 minutes ago, his cock was sunk deep into Lee's mouth and then he had felt Lee's cum running down the crack of his ass, down his inner thighs. The power of Lee's cock, the power of the orgasm, the power of Lee's suction on his cock. Jack's eruption, 45 minutes ago, was huge, was heart racing, tremendous.

Jack explained how the models would be dressed, his fingers pulled down the zipper to his pants, he reached inside, took out his sore, but hard again cock. A rush of blood, he said to Lily, he asked her if she knew what he'd have her wearing if she was one of her models. His fingers rubbed the tip of his cock as he told her of the indigo teddy, the way it fitted, tight, barely covering her body. How the bodice would accentuate the fullness of her breasts, the way her nipples would be peeking over the top, the way the crotch of the teddy would bite into her pussy, the way they would see her pussy lips, the wetness, the scene and just how the sales would be increased. 

He was stroking his cock, he was hard. He wanted pussy. He wanted her pussy, he wanted her. Just then, she cut him off.

"Fuck" he thought. "Shit" he shouted. He thought he's gone too far. "Fuck" he said as he shoved his cock back into his pants. He needed the bathroom. He need to fuck. He needed pussy. He needed her. He wanted her.

He left his office, turning left to the bathroom. His brain still pounding, his cock still throbbing. Passing one of the storerooms, he glanced through the door. His glance caught the sight of Kelly, or Kel as she preferred to be called. She was leaning over some cartons, the short skirt had risen, revealing the backs of her thighs. Jack's cock throbbed. He and Kelly had, at last year's Staff Christmas party, gone to his office. She led him inside, swiped the papers off of the top, the files, the pen holder. She had sat on the edge of the desk, lifted the dress, opened her legs, to reveal her nakedness, her totally shaved pussy. The look in her eyes, the blazing look. "Fuck me Jack, fuck me".

Jack looked at Kelly's legs, her tight ass. His cock throbbed. Quietly, he closed the door, walked up behind her. She heard his walk, his footsteps. She looked over her shoulder, saw the door had been close. She didn't move, she just smiled. Jack saw the smile, he saw the legs part. He reached out, gripped the elastic of her virtual see though panties. One tug, they ripped. Jack looked at her, heard her saying. "Fuck me Jack, fuck me". No finesse, no tenderness. Jack needed to use her, just as she wanted to use him. 

He parted her legs wider, took hold of his cock, slamming into her wet pussy, slamming in deep and hard. She groaned, he moaned. Their bodies moved back and forth in unison. Their breathing, ragged, the guttural groans, their growling. He shot deep, came hard. He felt her cumming, felt the wetness overflowing as she came, flowing out of her pussy, over his cock.

He pulled out, she turned, dropped to her knees and greedily sucked his cock, cleaning their combined juices, cleaning his balls, taking him deep. He noticed three messages on his answer machine, the red light flashing. Lily's was the second message. He listened to it, not just once, but three times. He smiled, he grinned. "Yes" he said "Yes" he shouted. "Fucking yes" he hollered.

He dialed her number, his face beaming. He left her the message.

Chapter 11

(three weeks later) 

Lily was anxiously waiting to board her flight to Atlanta. She checked her watch again and nervously fixed her hair. The counter person had told her she would be sitting in the last row which she didn't mind. While it was undoubtedly louder toward the back, she hoped she would have some time to think about the initial meeting with Jack and Lee. A few weeks ago after inviting her down, Jack had hesitated in explaining his relationship with Lee, hinting here and there until Lily finally came right out and asked if Lee was his roommate/lover. For the first time ever Lily heard Jack mumble so she had to ask him to repeat his answer. When he confirmed her suspicions, she felt a wicked smile spreading across her face.

"Sorry Lily, hope I didn't shock you."

"Of course not Jack, not at all. I don't think I've ever told you that having two men was my fantasy." She lightly laughed but was only half teasing him.

"Oh really?" He asked. Their conversation had continued at that point with Lily accepting his invitation and now the time had arrived!

They began calling seats to be boarded starting with the last and so Lily headed down the walkway with her luggage in tow. A tall man walked in front of her and she couldn't help staring at his ass, the way it clenched with it step to the point where she could almost see the muscles ripple, like a prowling panther. After walking back to her seat, she found herself face to face with this man. He was gorgeous! Dark brown eyes the color of chocolate and dark wavy hair. Being taller than her, he volunteered to push her carryon bag in the compartment overhead and she relented. She was handing it to him when something fell out of the front pocket and Lily was aghast to discover it was her hot pink teddie. 

"Um...I think this belongs to you." The man chuckled while picking up the nightie.

"Thank you," Lily stammered and stuffed it back in the pocket, giving the luggage to him to heave up to the area above their seats.

"Sure you don't want to put this on now?" Again that sly delicious grin decorated his face. He was very good looking and it was all Lily could do not to stare. She tossed back her hair and decided to play along. 

"I'll try it on later after we're in the air." Ever since her tryst with Melanie, Lily had been much more daring. Once she went out on the town without panties and another time she got drunk at a bar and flashed a patron. Both times she had gone home to have mind blowing orgasms. And now this hunk was in front of her. Mmmmm.

She settled down in her seat by the window and watched as the man looked at his ticket once again. 

"Looks like I'm sitting beside you." He said. Lily smile as the gentleman sat down and held out his hand. 

"Nicholas Marlow at your service. Call me Nick."

Lily took his proffered hand and shook it, not at all surprised at the tingles she felt run through her body. Nick's gaze stayed focused on her eyes for a bit but didn't neglect to spare an inch of her while he undressed her with his eyes.

"I'm Lily, pleased to meet you."

"I'm more than pleased Lily...I'm aroused." Nick laughed and his smile lit up the entire cabin. Lily grinned and relaxed, deciding that she was going to enjoy this plane ride.

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

About 20 minutes into the flight, she noticed Nick moving around a bit. Then he asked the flight attendant for a blanket and covered up. He turned to look at Lily and winked saying, "I'm not really that cold." Lily watched as she first heard a zipper and then watched as the blanket slowly moved back and forth over Nick's lap. Again that wonderful smile looked upon her and she smiled back knowing exactly what he was doing. She excused herself and got up to use the restroom. The lights had dimmed by this time as it was early evening, and as she moved her way past Ranger, she felt his hands upon her hips.

"Just helping you out babe." He said as he guided her past him.

Lily made her way to the restroom and quickly took off her drenched panties. She had not worn any stockings, only a short skirt to show off her legs for Jack and now she felt the cool texture against her flesh. As she walked back to her chair, intending to have a seat and decide if she really wanted to play or not....Nick's hands stopped her. He reached up and placed his firm grip around each of her thighs...and as she smiled and tried to scoot past him, he moved one hand up the inside of her thigh and his middle finger slid right into her pussy. Lily grabbed the seat to stay balanced and moaned without thinking. She practically collapsed on top of him but not before he whisked his blanket away and revealed a very stiff cock pointing straight up from his jeans. Lily gasped and just looked at the size of him. Nick used the moment to slowly slide his finger in and out of her and Lily's eyes glazed over and she instinctively cried out. Nick then withdrew his finger and wiped Lily's juices over the head of his cock and spread it around. Then he pulled her onto him. She was immediately impaled by his hard cock and buried her face in his neck as she groaned loudly. Nick didn't move a muscle...he held her still and covered her with his blanket. To anyone looking, she'd just fallen asleep on his shoulder. But after a moment of lying there, he purposely twitched his cock inside her and Lily let out another moan. She responded by gripping his shaft with her pussy and then Nick growled. Lily had let loose a powerful creature in Nick. His mere size was intimidating but Lily took him all in, her velvety walls surrounded him like a womb.

The light turbulence only added to the duo's passion as the plane began to dip and weave. Lily wrapped her arms around Nick as his body plunged into hers with each rocking movement. No motion of their own was needed. Lily knew that she would be cumming quickly and practically hissed into Nick's neck as she got closer.

"Come on baby," Nick groaned. He arched his hips towards her and Lily lost all control. She slammed her body on top of his and shoved her face into his neck as she let loose her climax. Moving her mouth close to his ear, she hoarsely groaned as she came over and over. The second Nick heard her sounds, he started cumming in buckets, thrusting his hips into Lily like a wild stallion over and over. The power of their fucking made Lily's eyes water as her body was literally taken to new heights. Nick's face was tight as the tension showed through and he sought out Lily's mouth to share the passion. His tongue leaped down her throat as he felt and heard her guttural sounds. Together they rode the climax until both were spent. Then Nick planted small kisses all over Lily's warm face, tasting her sweet sweat at 30,000 feet. 

"That was glorious." said Lily. She lay exhausted on Nick's chest. Just about then the pilot came on the speaker to announce their landing in 20 minutes. 

"Oh my goodness!" Lily said which made Nick laugh. She quickly slid off his slick cock and tried to wipe the juices off her leg. That only made matters worse and when she sat down to buckle in, more cum ran down her leg. Nick smiled wickedly and traced the cum with his finger, wiping it up and tasting it. Lily just sat there...totally mesmerized. 

"Welcome to the Mile High Club Lily." Nick smiled and gave Lily one last kiss as the seatbelt sign came on.

The landing was uneventful and as Nick stood and grabbed her luggage from the overhead rack, he mentioned that he never got to see her in her pink teddie.

"Maybe on our way back." Lily said, smiling. She walked down the aisle with a bounce in her step and headed down the ramp to meet Jack and Lee. She only hoped that the traces of cum on her leg wouldn't be visible since it was finally dark outside. Taking a breath..she stepped through the airport door. 




Voices



Chapter 12

The three weeks leading up to Lily's arrival slowly passed even though Jack was kept busy. So many things to organize, so many things to do, problems to resolve, agencies contacted, girls interviewed, guys too. Meetings with the lighting engineers, the video takers, the photographers, the advertising agents, the publishers. Yes, he was busy, but he was enjoying it, the whole scene. "This show is going to be awesome Lee" Jack told his male lover as they lay in the bed, his fingers brushing over the strong cock, the strong dark cock that grew before his eyes, the cock that grew in his fingers as they closed around it. Jack looked down at the cock, the thick cock in his hands. He licked his lips as he moved down the bed, he licked his lips as his mouth lowered onto Lee's erection. He moaned as he took Lee, Lee moaned as Jack took his cock, deep. Jack's fingers cupped the smooth balls as his mouth slammed down, taking the whole length, feeling the head hit the back of his throat, almost making him gag. Relentlessly, Jack's mouth worked up and down the hard cock, the strong thick cock as his fingers stroked and massaged the balls. He felt Lee's hands on his head, almost forcing him to swallow more. Jack's mouth was being used, Lee was fucking his mouth, his throat. The power of the orgasm, the power of the final thrust. Jack swallowed, Jack gagged as Lee's cock sent his warm salty cum into his mouth. Swallowing hard, Jack took it all, not wanting, not wishing to lose a drop. He swallowed, he sucked, he licked. He took it all before moving up to Lee, before their lips touched, before their tongues touched, before Jack transferred the cum into Lee's mouth.

The days dragged, but also flew by. The contradiction in terms caused by the need, the desire to take, to have Lily. Never a day went by when his thoughts switched to her, to her body, her nipples. His mind still full of the detailed story she gave him, the story of her first ever modeling assignment. He wanted to fuck her, he would fuck her, yes, he would.

That morning was no different as Jack looked at the full schedule. He smiled as he saw one name on the modeling list, Pia. How his smile broadened as he saw the name. Not just the smile grew, his cock also.

Laying back in the leather chair, his thoughts wandered, his memory banks brought forward the last time they met. "Pia" he said out loud as his cock grew. At 5' 7", the Germanic features so strong, the high cheekbones, the straight nose, the full lips, the long, long auburn hair, cascading over her shoulders, falling onto her full breasts, her full 36D breasts. He smiled as he recalled the first meeting, right here in the office. She had been sent by one of his agency contacts. Phil had phoned him, told him, very explicit in his description. "Man, those tits are to die for" Phil told him over the phone. Jack laughed but the laughing stopped when he saw her. Phil was right, 100% correct. She came into his office. Jack immediately saw that Phil wasn't bullshitting. They were to die for. Even his PA, Suzie, couldn't help but to look and stare as she brought her into his office and made them both coffee. Jack watched as Pia sat down in the chair opposite, he stared as she leant forward to pass him her portfolio. The white blouse opened, revealing the fullness of those breasts. Jack took the portfolio. He was sure his jaw dropped as he opened, as he casually flicked through the array of photographs. The way her nipples protruded through the black lace brassiere. One caught his eye, caused him to stare, caused his cock to stir. Pia was standing, her hands on her hips, her fingers inside the waistband of the sheer panties, panties that hid nothing, panties that showed her pussy lips. The matching bra, pushing her breasts up and outwards, the nipples, hard and erect. He stared, then looked at her. She was smiling, as if she knew what his thoughts were. Gathering those thoughts, Jack explained to her that the new line, at that time, was something of the same in that photograph and that some were just a little more explicit, some clothing would be revealing. She smiled and told him that she has no problems with that. Jacked turned the photographs over, yet again, his jaw dropped. He looked at Pia, he looked back to the photograph. He could see that she would have no problem in modeling some of the more explicit underwear. The photograph his eyes were locked upon, the photograph that caused his cock to stiffen was revealing, revealing the fact that she shaved, that her breasts were firm. The tiny G-string covered, barely and just, her pussy. Looking at her, she again smiled as she leant back in the chair, sipping the hot, strong black coffee. Her legs crossed, the short black skirt revealing tanned thighs, strong tanned thighs. He ran through the outline of the show, the remuneration, the outfits, the sort of people expected. Her words shocked him, but in a nice way. "Do I give any private viewings?" she asked him. Jack, naturally, knew of private viewings. He smiled at her question. He had many a private viewing for himself and of course for the high rollers who thought nothing of spending $$$$$ for a private show. "I take 25%" he said. She nodded in agreement.

Jack's mind was brought back to the present day as the phone rang. Cursing, adjusting his cock, he answered. The brief conversation ended as Jack perused the list again, but his mind was on one name, one incident, one fast and furious fuck.

His cock, still hard. His fingers tugged the zip down, his fingers slid inside the silk boxer shorts, his fingers closed around his cock. Closing his eyes, oblivious, unafraid that Suzie could come in at anytime, he thoughts went back, drifting back to Pia, those tits, that shaved pussy, those puffy lips, the sweet tasting juices.

Jack looked at Pia as she sat there, opposite him. He watched her tanned legs uncross and then cross again. The black skirt, riding high upon her strong thighs. He looked at the next few photographs, feeling his cock starting to throb in his pants. Clicking the line to Suzie, he asked her to bring in some of the lingerie for the show. "Would you mind modeling some of them for me now?" he asked her. Pia smiled. "Sure, why not?" she said to him. He knew, there and then, that she would be the star of the show, the star of the private showings. Even before Suzie had entered the office, even before he had time to adjust, relax, Pia had stood, her fingers casually unbuttoned the remaining few buttons to the white shirt. He looked at she opened the shirt, the white brassiere struggling to contain her breasts. Pia placed the shirt on the back of the chair and unclipped the brassiere. Jack watched as her tanned breasts came into view, the nipples, already stiff. The door opened, Suzie carrying the case of clothing. Jack noticed her eyes, the shining eyes as she looked at Pia's breasts. It was as if Pia knew that they were both affected by her, as she unzipped the skirt, letting it fall around her ankles. Bending, her breasts moving, she picked up the skirt, placing it with the other articles on the back of the chair. Suzie just stood, Jack and Suzie just looked. Suzie let out a little gasp as she, as they, watched Pia hook her fingers into the elastic of her thong. Unashamed she removed the thong. Jack felt his cock twitch. "Thank you" Pia said as Suzie opened the case, passing her a selection of undergarments. Both looked as she slipped on the black teddy, snapping the studs that closed the crotch. Pia needed no directing, she walked around the room, her high heels not making noise on the plush carpeting. Jack wasn't worried about Suzie being there as he stood up, far from it. She enjoyed the act, she lusted for the act of seeing Jack sliding his cock into pussy. However, this time was different, this time she would become involved, this time, she would feel the tongue, Pia's tongue licking her, her mouth eating her pussy. Jack stood, his hands fell to the bulge, his fingers gripped the hardness inside his pants as he watched Pia posing, bending, leaning. He moved to her, grabbing her, pulling her down to her knees. She laughed, he smiled. Suzie sat on the corner of the desk, her legs open, her fingers moving up her parted thighs, reaching her naked pussy. She watched as Pia unzipped her employer, watched the fingers dive inside the open pants, to extract the throbbing cock. Suzie watched Pia's mouth open, watched as her bosses cock slipped inside. She watched the deep red lips close, watched the motion of her head as she started to suck Jack, as she took his cock deep. Jack looked over at Suzie, he smiled as he saw her fingers sliding into her pussy, hearing the squelching as she finger fucked herself. His hips thrust back and forth, she was good, very good. Taking him deep, taking him deep and hard in her mouth, her fingers gripping the shaft, squeezing the solid cock. Taking his cock out, she looked up at him, her fingers stroking his cock. "Fuck me with it" Pia said as she stood, her fingers clasped firmly around the shaft. "Fuck me" she said again as she undid the crotch clasps, pulling it away from her pussy. She moved to the desk, her hand resting on Suzie's thigh as Jack moved behind her. No hesitation. He parted her ass cheeks, his cock slid effortlessly into Pia's pussy. She let out a moan as she felt the cock filling her. Her hand moved up Suzie's thighs. Suzie took that hand, placing it firmly onto her pussy. Parting her thighs wider, Suzie exposed her pussy, the racing stripe, the dolphin tattoo to the right of her pussy. Pia needed no invite. Jack thrust in and out of her wet pussy, he felt the vagina muscles clamping down hard on him as he saw Pia lower her face, as he saw Suzie biting her bottom lip as Pia's tongue slid inside. He watched Suzie taking Pia's head, forcing her onto her pussy. He clenched his teeth, trying to hold back the impending explosion, trying to wait until Suzie came. He didn't have to wait long. He heard the stifled scream. His balls bouncing as he pounded into Pia's pussy. "Fuckkkk" he groaned as he felt the rushing, the explosion. The orgasm, his orgasm, followed by Suzie's and then Pia's. All three, hard, fast and furious.

The day arrived. Lee and Jack got into the hired limousine. The champagne on ice, the crystal flutes, polished, clean and ready. 

The airport a short, but time consuming 25 minutes from the store was uneventful, giving them both time to talk, to laugh, to visualize meeting Lily. Jack felt Lee's hand move up his thigh, he felt the fingers giving his cock a playful squeeze as they approached the terminal, the darkness being evaporated by the strong lights surrounding the airport.

They alighted from the stretched limousine and made their way into the lounge to await the flight that, after checking the overhead screens, was going to be on time and due to land in 5 minutes. "Perfect timing Jack" Lee said to him.

It was indeed, perfect timing.

Chapter 13

As Lily stepped out of the concourse her eyes were immediately drawn towards a sharp-dressed man nearby. Jack had told her that he'd be wearing a rose in his lapel and the gentleman that she was staring at had a dark red rosebud pinned to his collar. He was a dreamboat with soft wavy hair and indigo blue eyes. As she got closer the man held out his hand and said in the familiar voice, "Lily? I'm Jack, and so very pleased to finally meet you." 

Lily dropped her suitcase in her haste to touch him and it landed with a light thud near his feet. 

"Jack, I feel I already know you." She was blushing furiously and raised her hand to shake his. As she did so, Jack surprised her by pulling her close and planting a firm kiss on her lips. It was supposed to be a friendly kiss but quickly turned passionate as all the months of heated conversations took their toll on both. Lily returned the kiss with unexpected ardor and slid her tongue inside Jack's mouth, seeing out a mate. Jack quickly matched her fervor with his own impassioned desires and his tongue started roaming over hers, gently sucking on the newly discovered friend.

Someone nearby quietly coughed and Jack broke away, leaving Lily's mouth wanting more. Jack introduced Lee his associate to Lily and Lee grinned at her. She was very impressed with his dark looks and quite taken by his beautiful eyes. Their dark brown reminded her of melted chocolate...her favorite treat. Lee held out his hand to her and said, "Nice to meet you Lily. Mind if I have one of the feverish kisses you bestowed on Jack?" His smile charmed her and Lily laughed delightedly, knowing she liked these two already. 

"The pleasure was all mine." She said, smiling right back at him. By then Jack had picked up her luggage and took her hand, pulling her with him as he walked. 

"I have a limo waiting outside to take us to a penthouse I've rented. You'll have your own room of course."

Lily looked over at Jack but could not read his expression. They arrived at the limo and the driver helped load her luggage. Jack took her hand again, making sure she was settled in the car and then slipped in beside her. Lee sat across from both and Lily's gaze was drawn to his tight trousers. His large bulge was unmistakable and she bit her lower lip, having all kinds of delicious thoughts. Her recent encounters with Melanie and Nick, had paved the wave for Lily to want to commit all kinds of naughty acts and something about the interior of the limo made her the tiniest bit wet. She kept her legs closed but knew that if Jack or Lee looked towards her thighs, they'd see a thin trail of precum. Smearing it over her thigh would only draw their attention to it and then it would be obvious. 

Lily turned to ask Jack a question and found him staring at her face. As she watched, his gaze darkened as he slowly drank in the rest of her body, his eyes finally resting on the streak of wetness she was hoping to hide. His finger moved to touch her thigh and he drew the long digit across the trail, bringing to his mouth for a taste. Lily's mouth went dry and then she squirmed as Jack brought his hand down to his pants, rubbing the unmistakable bulge that had appeared. He took her hand and placed it over the bulge and she gasped. It was like a heated poker even through his pants and it was all she could do not to grip it.

"Lily...please....I have wanted you for so long. I know this isn't the time or place but" and with that Lily sealed his mouth with a kiss, closing it for the time being. She then rubbed against his hardness as he moaned in her mouth. His hand quickly brushed hers away and soft unzipping sounds could be heard. Lily did not break the kiss but moved her hand over the thick revealed cock. Her fingers wrapped around the long shaft and Jack groaned aloud. At that point Lee groaned to and Lily turned to see what he was doing. He had gotten out his cock and was stroking it lightly, the precum covered his long dark fingers and she found that he was uncircumcised. Briefly looking down at Jack, she discovered that his cock was larger than she'd ever seen and immediately wanted to suck it. She lowered her head and placed her lips around the mushroomed area, moving her mouth back and forth as Jack groaned above her, stroking her hair lightly. She then became a bit playful and let go of the shaft with her hand and started licking the entire length, the veins being so deeply prominent in color against her face. She knew Lee was watching and so she made her tongue go as slowly as she could over the hardness. Jack was gripping the seat and huskily told the driver to keep going when he inquired if he should stop. Lily felt the car moving and thought she herself would cum shortly if the bumps on the road continued. She kept licking and licking as she heard Jack and Lee's breath quicken.

Unbeknownst to any of them, the driver had seen the whole show from his mirror. He had positioned it early to take in the entire back area and by now had his fat cock in his hand, pumping away furiously. He knew the two men were bi and that didn't bother him...and in fact made him horny at times to think about it even though he was happily married. But this.....this was different. He was actually seeing Jack and Lee and a most gorgeous woman sucking Jack's cock like there was no tomorrow. He groaned allowed and knew his cumming sounds were muffled in the noises of the men and lady in the back. The limo had slowed down but apparently no one recognized the subtle change in driving. His hand became covered in cum and he lazily stroked his cock until he had milked all of the cum out, then he cleaned up with a towel from the glove compartment.

Meanwhile Jack had pushed Lily's top down and her breasts were heavy over his legs. He reached out and grabbed a tit and Lee groaned even louder. It was all either one of them could do not to take Lily's nipple in their mouth but neither wanted the pleasures to stop. Lily continued sucking on Jack, knowing he would cum shortly. Her thighs were now covered in precum and when she moved she knew the seat would be wet with her juices. She was so very close to cumming and somewhere in the back of her mind, wondered if they would all cum at once. Just about that time Lee shot his wad and it spewed all over Jack and Lily, gallons of cum it seemed and Lee cried out huskily. Lily's moans vibrated off Jack's cock until he bucked his hips into her face, shoving his cock down her throat without even knowing. Lily's body was splayed over the seat and as she sucked Jack's dick, Lee shoved his largest finger up her pussy and she lost it. Both Jack and Lily came simultaneously with Jack arching furiously into Lily's mouth while grabbing her breasts and squeezing. Lee continued to pummel Lily's pussy with his finger and slid a second one inside while she was still cumming. She screamed and Jack cried out, both cumming like they'd never experienced in the past. They wracked the limo with their movements and the limo driver having spent his own was earlier, carefully maneuvered the car down the road, once again becoming hard as a rock due to the impassioned noises. 

Jack's cum was dripping down Lily's chin by the time he was done and Lily's legs were spread wide for Lee. He had once again become hard from watching even though it had been only moments. Lily's final waves were rolling over her as Lee slipped his fingers out, only to be replaced by his cock. Lily's eyes closed and she groaned, pushing back against Lee in his seat, gripping his cock better than his hand ever could. She shoved herself back and forth over him while Jack watched. Within minutes Lee came again as well as the driver until the limo smelled like nothing but cum. All were exhausted after the latest efforts and the three in the back collapsed. Jack was grinning widely at his partner and Lily, and they finally untangled themselves and cleaned up best they could, all three quite out of breath.

The driver drove merrily along after that, taking the three to a penthouse nearby. He knew another friend greeted them there and was anxious to see what fun the 4 of them would have. Yes indeed, the driver was quite happy with his ride, knowing all his passengers were content at last and he would be seeing another show shortly.

~ The Final End ~