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Xenophobe

By: JimBob44



*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

**Author's Note: I wrote this story in the beautiful, simple Cajun dialect of the people I grew up with. (Microsoft Spell Check has a hard enough time with normal English; Cajun English really fucked it up!)

In the Cajun dialect, there is no 'TH' sound. Words such as 'Month' become 'mont.' 'This' and 'that' are 'dis' and 'dat.'

The word 'Cher' is a term of endearment; it is not in reference to the pop star by the same name.

The work is hard, the play is hard, the lives are hard, and yet the Cajun people are among the most beautiful and loving people around.

But if this man's grandfather wronged that man's grandfather, they never ever forget it. An outsider to the very close knit community will find themselves accepted; to a degree.



Chapter 1

Eunice Theriot stepped out of the principal's office and wiped at a tear. Dr. Savoie had begged her to stay in school, had pointed out that her grades were perfect, and had even hinted at a scholarship to college.

"We need food now, not no four years from now," Eunice had said resolutely.

Finally, the man threw up his hands, wished the eighteen year old girl well, and let the attractive brunette leave his office.

"Hey Theriot, you leaving?" Lester Burnette asked, forcing her against the cinderblock wall.

"Best let me go now," she warned the smirking African-American youth.

In answer, he thrust himself against her, rubbing his crotch against her belly.

"Hey, maybe you and me get together, you know, get busy like me and Norma done," he husked into her ear.

He gasped suddenly as Eunice's knee connected solidly with his testicles. As he was doubling over, Eunice brought her knee up again, loosening two of Lester's teeth.

"I done told you, best let e go and you don't be lying 'bout my sister no," she shrilled as he collapsed to the floor.

She walked to her locker, dug out the last of her school books and walked to her next class to return the text books to Mrs. Linda New.

Mrs. New was extremely upset that the girl was dropping out of school; the woman took it as a personal failing of hers whenever a student left Baylor Lake High School without graduating.

"I'm being sad too," Eunice told the woman, fighting against fresh tears. "But we need me working, not sitting around playing."

"But school is not playing," Linda wailed. "You're too smart, Eunice! You could be so much more than just a laborer!"

"Hey, what wrong wit' being a laborer?" Eunice asked defensive.

"Well, nothing except when you could be so much more," Linda said.

Backpack now empty, Eunice waited for Bus 128.

Trey Martinez, Lester's friend, came up to Eunice. He did make sure to stay well out of reach of her knees, though.

"Lest said he's going fuck you all up," Trey warned.

"Tell him I ain't scared no," Eunice said.

She stepped onto the bus and nodded to Mr. Randall, the bus driver.

"You really ain't coming back no more?" Sally Leblanc asked as Eunice sat down next to her.

Eunice blinked back fresh tears as she sat next to the girl she had sat next to for the twelve and a half years they'd gone to school together.

"Yeah, my last day," Eunice agreed.

"'m miss you yeah," Sally said, giving her friend a tight hug.

"Don't do that no," Eunice sobbed out, pushing the girl off of her.

Even though she was only five foot two, Eunice was quite strong, especially against the five foot tall Sally, who lived in a nice house with her mom and never did a bit of physical labor.

Eunice abruptly got out of her seat and took an empty seat near the front of the bus.

"Y'all have a nice day, hear?" Mr. Randall said as he dropped them off in front of Sally's house.

"I don't care no; I'm miss you," Sally sobbed out and again embraced Eunice.

Eunice wiggled out of the tight embrace and ran to the steps that let her cross over the retaining wall of the levee that separated Baylor Lake and Jazz Beach from the brackish waters of the Atchafalaya Basin.

She ran as fast as her short legs would carry her until she reached the plywood shack she shared with her father, Alton Theriot and twenty year old sister, Norma Theriot. Climbing up the splintered steps, Eunice barged into the shack.

"Hey," Norma smiled from the propane stove.

"Hey," Eunice choked out.

"Daddy working on that pirogue," Norma said as she turned the meat over in the cast iron skillet.

"That new log?" Eunice asked when she got her tears under control.

"Yeah; said you need finish up that other one yeah," Norma agreed and let a small squeal escape when the pan spattered some grease onto her hand.

"It do that all the time; think you'd be used to it yeah," Eunice teased, giving her sister an affectionate pinch on her rear end.

Norma giggled at her own silliness and turned to her sister.

At five feet even, Norma was the shorter of the two girls, and most thought her to be the prettiest, with her long blonde hair, wide blue eyes, round face and ever-present smile. She was also more developed than Eunice, with a 34C chest, 28 inch waist, and 32 inch hips.

Eunice had 32 A/B breasts, or what their father called 'cupcake titties,' a twenty six inch waist and 34 inch hips.

She brushed her long brown hair out of her hazel eyes, gave her sister a quick kiss on the lips, again pinched her rear end and danced out of the way of Norma's retaliatory slap. The girls giggled at each other and Eunice left the small shack.

"'Bout time yeah," Alton grumbled when Eunice found him working on cutting the large cypress log in half lengthwise.

"Just got here," Eunice defended then bent to helping him saw the large log.

Father and daughter both had calloused hands from years of hard work, both were used to the rusty tools, and both knew what the other expected without the other having to say anything.

"There' that look good," Alton said as they broke through the end of the log.

"I use the top one; okay?" Eunice asked.

"Not 'til that other one done," Alton said, nodding with his head at the nearly finished pirogue that rested a few feet away.

Eunice picked up the rusty planer and began the tedious task of smoothing out the interior of the craft.

"And your sister wants some of that wood yeah," Alton reminded her.

"Why? So she can make some more of them stupid dolls?" Eunice asked, but did gather up the larger pieces of wood for Norma.

Father and daughter labored until it grew too dark for them to see what they were doing. Eunice gathered up the scraps of wood and brought them to the shack.

"I was fixing call you," Norma said as she put a heaping plate of food at the head of the table.

"Be a waste of time," Alton teased his oldest daughter as he sat at the head of the table.

""Daddy, you wash them hands?" Norma asked as Alton prepared to dig into Te food.

"And you say grace?" Eunice asked.

"Man! I tell you!" Alton complained as he got to his feet.

After the dishes had been washed, Alton tuned the small transistor radio to 88.9, the college radio station from the University of Louisiana at DeGarde just as the Cajun broadcast was beginning. He was the only one that was allowed to operate the radio; playing the sports radio broadcast out of Lafayette Louisiana during the day, and the Cajun broadcast at night.

The disc jockey made some program announcements in French, and then played a lively Zydeco tune.

Norma and Eunice grabbed each other's hands and danced a lively jitterbug to the tune. Alton sat and tapped his foot in time to the music, enjoying the music as the girls danced. Every now and then, Eunice, acting as the lead, would twirl Norma around and Norma's skirt would flare up, exposing her naked button and golden curls.

A slower tune came on and the girls easily slid into a two-step.

They sat down as the station played some announcements, then Norma clapped for joy as Freddy LaSalle, a local comedian began telling a joke.

"He's stupid yeah," Eunice grumbled.

"Shut up; he is not!" Norma shrilled, slapping her sister's shoulder.

"Bot' you shut up; I'm listening yeah," Alton warned.

As is the norm in Cajun joke-telling, it was a long, very involved joke that built up to the punch line. Alton rubbed his hand up and down Norma's bare thigh as they listened.

Eunice groaned as the punch line finally came but Norma laughed out loud and clapped her hands.

"Oh that's so funny yeah!" she said. "'Momma's got a mustache too?' Oh that's funny!"

They listened to the broadcast for another hour, dancing to the music while Alton sat and watched. Finally, he declared an end to the activities and they readied for bed.

Norma got into the bed first and Eunice lay on the outside while Alton got into the bed on the other side.

No sooner had he turned out the light then he was rolling on top of Norma, thrusting himself into her. Eunice lay and listened as Norma cooed, sighed, and giggled throughout the grunting and thrashing. Soon, it was over and the three fell asleep.

Chapter 2

Eunice woke up to the sound of rain beating steadily on the roof of their shack. She smiled; that meant the frogs would be out in full force, which meant the bass would also be out in full force.

That meant she and Norma would be out fishing as soon as they finished with their breakfast.

Norma was very excited when Eunice suggested they go fishing.

"I make us a fish couvillion!" she gasped, checking that she had the ingredients for the meal.

"Man why you don't just fry them yeah?" Eunice suggested.

"Man you so good you already cooking them ain't even caught them huh?" Alton teased the two girls. "Here, let me open the window save you the time catching them, they just jump in."

The two girls laughed at their father's antics.

"Take that gun case you see that Bobby Bordelon out there," Alton warned as the two girls climbed into their pirogue.

"Got my bow and arrows," Eunice said.

"What you do he pops up?" Alton spat. "Oh you wait I get my arrow lined up yeah? You just do what I tell you, huh?"

"Yes sir," Eunice said and reached out for the twenty two pistol he held out to her.

Eunice sat in the rear; she knew if she sat in the front Norma would do very little paddling. Soon they were in an area where there were few trees, but several cypress stumps. They put the paddles into the boat and cast their lines out.

Within minutes, Eunice was pulling a large bass into the boat. With a practiced ease, she brought the paddle down on the fish's head, stilling it's struggles. Norma shuddered.

"Man I hate that yeah," she admitted.

"What? Want it jump back in?" Eunice asked, bating her hook and casting it back out.

"Well, no, but..." then Norma squealed as her line jerked.

Eunice let Norma fight with her fish for a few minutes, then took the rod from her and quickly brought the fish in.

"Whack!" went the paddle and Eunice congratulated Norma on catching a big fish. Norma beamed under Eunice's praise.

When they had six large fish, Eunice declared an end to the fishing and Norma gratefully put her rod down.

She clapped her hands when Eunice dug around in her canvas quiver and brought out the two bottles of beer she'd snuck out of the house.

"Now you don't be acting all stupid when we get home no," Eunice warned as Norma quickly unscrewed the cap of her beer.

Eunice rubbed her own backside.

"Remember? Daddy laid that paddle on me yeah," Eunice reminded her sister.

"Me too!" Norma protested.

"Yeah but he don't hit you twice as hard he hits me," Eunice grumbled to herself.

Eunice's warning fell on deaf ears; Norma was under the influence of the alcohol quickly and was giggling and singing silly songs within minutes.

"I need to pee yeah," she complained minutes after they'd sank their empty beer bottles.

In answer, Eunice pointed to the water all around the boat.

"No, Ooni, come on," Norma whined.

"Fine, fine, big baby," Eunice said and paddled them over t a sandbar.

"Wait here, let me see," Eunice cautioned and got out of the boat.

She determined that there were no snakes or alligators on the expanse of sand and Norma gratefully got out of the boat and both girls relieved their bladders.

"Be a good time that Bobby Bordelon pop up yeah," Eunice giggled as she pulled her cut off denim shorts back up her muscular legs.

"Ew I don't like him no," Norma complained as she pulled her own shorts up.

"But he like you!" Eunice teased her older sister.

"You shut up you!" Norma demanded.

They paddled back to the shack.

Just as Eunice knew she would, Norma began whining about having to clean the fish so Eunice made very quick work of it and threw the scraps into the brackish water for the crawfish to feast on.

"Thanks, Ooni," Norma said and gave her sister a kiss.

"Uh huh," Eunice said and gave her sister a quick pinch on her backside.

"Quit!" Norma squealed as Eunice danced out of reach of Norma's slap.

Alton was already sweating heavily as he used his axe to hollow out one half of the cypress log.

"Man you fast yeah," Eunice praised as she began the finishing touches on her pirogue.

"'Posed rain all day tomorrow; think you get some oil on that?" was all Alton said.

"Yeah, 'bout ready for it now," Eunice agreed.

After an hour, Alton looked up from his work.

"Catch you any fish?" he asked.

Done got six of them," Eunice snapped her fingers. "Like that."

"Good, good," Alton agreed

Just as Eunice was finishing rubbing the oil into the bottom of the boat, Norma called them in for lunch.

Chapter 3

Buford Theriot was grateful it was the weekend; time to relax. He was a junior partner of Timmons, Duhon and Associates Accounting. Ever since construction on St. Elizabeth's Trauma Center had begun, the work-load for the small accounting firm had quadrupled. In the months of February, March, and April, they would work seven days a week. But with May just a few days away, the maddening pace had ground to a halt.

There would e a slight flurry of activity in August, October, and January, when the sole proprietorships in and around Greater DeGarde, Louisiana would file their quarterly taxes, but, even in October, Buford's work load was relatively light.

On Saturdays, Buford relaxed in the small consignment shop he owned. He sold a little of this and that, mostly junk people didn't have room for any more. The pride of his shop, though, was the authentic Cajun items and tools he displayed in the front of the shop. Most of the items scattered about were handcrafted by his cousin, Alton.

Alton was a craftsman but he was not a business man. He left that to Buford. For his service, Buford took forty percent and gave Alton sixty percent. They'd worked together for years and both were pleased with the arrangement.

The customer looked over the authentic pirogue Buford had on display, examined the two paddles and nodded in satisfaction.

"Take it, how much for that rocker?" the man said.

"Two ten; made out of one hundred percent cypress," Buford said. "Not a nail in that; it's all cypress pegs."

"No kidding? Well would you look at that?" the man said, examining the simple chair closer.

Buford helped the man load his purchases, shook the man's hand, and returned to the shop.

Buford then wrestled another pirogue out of the stockroom as well as two more cypress chairs.

"My Ooni done helped me a little bit with them yeah," Alton had said with pride when he dropped off this month's merchandise.

"No kidding?" Buford asked, not really caring. "Man, how old she now?"

"Eighteen, believe that?" Alton had said.

"Eighteen? Man, last time I seen her, she in diapers yeah," Buford said, slipping into the Cajun dialect of his youth.

"But then again, you still in diapers you," he teased his cousin.

"Man, shut up!" Alton laughed and pulled two more pirogues and a small table out of the bed of his truck.

Now in his showroom, Buford looked at the two chairs then spaced them apart and got the small table out of the rear of the stockroom and positioned the table between them.

Most would balk at the three hundred and seventy five dollar price tag he put on the simple furniture, but the one person that wanted an authentic Cajun table and chairs would not even think twice about pulling out their credit card.

Buford groaned as Tammy Timmons, the 'Timmons' of Timmons, Duhon and Associates, therefore his immediate supervisor, came into the shop.

"Buford," she greeted him.

"Timmons," he returned the greeting.

He had assumed the woman to be gay, with her shapeless, colorless taste in clothing and her severe hairstyle, as well as her refusal to use make-up. It had been a real surprise when she began dating, then living with Glen Simone.

Of course, it had not been a surprise when the romance fizzled out, but Buford did not say anything.

"Still no desk?" Tammy asked, looking around at the goods on display.

"Just the one," Buford said, pointing to a rough-hewn child's desk.

"Thought you said you had someone working on one," Tammy accused.

"Said he is," Buford said.

At the shack, Alton sent Eunice and Norma out to see if they could find another cypress log.

"We ain't done this one yet," Eunice argued, pointing out the other half of the log.

"You talking back?" Alton threatened, reaching for his belt buckle.

"No sir," Eunice said quickly.

So, while he used his axe to make the rough cut on the hull of a pirogue, Eunice and Norma paddled out in search of a large log.

"Man we find us a big one, maybe Mr. Lemoine let us use his airboat yeah," Norma said excitedly.

"Uh huh," Eunice grumbled.

It didn't seem to bother Norma that Mr. Lemoine would expect Norma to put his cock in her mouth for the use of the air boat, with Daddy's permission, of course, but it bothered Eunice.

It took them nearly two hours, but they found not one, but three logs. Norma had argued and Alton had also shrugged, but Eunice was grateful she had brought the longer piece of rope.

"This hard, yeah," Norma complained again as they towed the tree logs

On dry land, Alton was finishing up shaping the log when he heard footsteps.

"Yo, yo, sup, Gator man?" Lester Burnette asked high on meth.

"Boy, best pull them pants up yeah," Alton spat, looking at the jeans that threatened to fall off of Lester's hips.

"Aw fuck you," Lester sneered. "Know where that Eunice Theriot bitch is?"

"Come up talking shit, pants all falling down and call my daughter a bitch? Boy best get on out of here still breathing yeah," Alton threatened, holding onto the axe tightly.

"Tell her I'm fuck her up, hear?" Lester said and pulled out his cousin's nine millimeter

Alton swung the axe, splitting the boy's head open.

Eunice and Norma labored heavily and argued with each other.

"Man let one go yeah," Norma again ordered.

"Let you go," Eunice countered.

They looked at the chaotic scene; there were four police officers and two paramedics trampling the ground around where their shack.

"You, Who you?" Officer Vernon Brown demanded as the two girls got out of their pirogue.

"Vernon," Sheriff Bob Chastaine warned.

"What?" Vernon snapped.

"Ma'am, you have any right to be here?" the sheriff politely asked the two confused girls.

"Well yeah, you?" Eunice asked, looking around for her father.

"Got any ID?" Bob asked.

"Yeah, inside," Eunice agreed, pointing to their shack. "Where's my daddy?"

"Your dad Alton Theriot?" Vernon demanded.

"Officer Brown, please go wait by the car," Bob ordered.

Vernon stared hard at Bob for a long moment, and then stomped away toward the levee.

Eunice went to the shack, found her school ID, found Norma's fade ID from when she was a student at Baylor Lake High School, and brought both frayed plastic cards out.


Xenophobe



"Thank you," Bob said politely and handed the cards back to the girl.

"Now where my daddy go?" Eunice asked as Norma clung to her.

"He's down at St. Elizabeth's Lock-up; had him a little altercation," Bob admitted. "You got anyone you can call?"

"Call for what?" Eunice asked.

"Well, y'all can't stay here by yourselves, huh?" Bob asked.

"Why not? I'm eighteen and she's twenty yeah," Eunice asked.

"Oh? Oh, okay then," Bob said as the paramedics lifted the gurney and began to wheel it as quickly as they could toward the retaining wall.

Norma and Eunice looked on as everyone quickly dispersed. Finally, Eunice forced Norma to assume Alton's role and assist her in pulling the three logs onto dry land.

Then they went inside their shack and waited for their father.

As darkness fell, Norma fixed their supper.

At the DeGarde Sheriff's office, Bob stormed into the precinct office.

"Who the fuck put Alton Theriot in with three African-American prisoners?" he bellowed, vein in his forehead throbbing with rage.

Everyone turned and looked at Vernon Brown.

"Figures, my office. NOW!" Bob snarled.

"I hope he didn't get himself hurt?" Officer Vernon Brown fought down the smirk.

"No, one of them is unconscious and the other two are begging to be put in another cell," Bob smirked back.

"What?" Vernon asked, shocked.

"Let me ask you something, Officer," Bob asked, smirking at Vernon's surprise.

"Yeah?" Vernon asked.

"Alton been black or his two girls black, you'd been so ugly to them?" Bob asked.

"I um..." Vernon said.

"Or if the victim been another coon ass, you lock Alton in a cell with three of the worst gang bangers we got?" Bob went on.

"That has..." Vernon protested.

"From here on out, Officer Brown, you better tread very carefully," Bob warned, signifying that their conversation was over.

At the shack, Eunice helped Norma clean up after their supper, and then the two girls again sat at the table, not knowing what else to do.

Finally Norma said, "Turn the radio on, huh?"

"You turn it on," Eunice countered.

"You right there," Norma countered.

Eunice finally did and they sat and listened in silence, not even dancing to any of the songs.

After a couple of hours, Eunice declared bed time and the two got ready.

"You think Daddy okay?" Norma finally dared to ask.

"How I know?" Eunice answered, equally worried, fearful.

In the night, the two girls held each other tightly.

Chapter 4

Brandon Johnson was Alton's court appointed lawyer and at first had encouraged Alton to simply plead guilty to aggravated assault. When Alton loudly asked Officer James Kowalski if he could have a different lawyer, Brandon decided to actually pay attention to his client.

"And you say there was a gun?" Brandon asked.

"I done said that three times yeah," Alton spat.

"Officer, may I have the lot number of that gun?" Brandon asked James and the policeman nodded curtly.

"All right, you'll be arraigned at ten o'clock; we're going to plead 'not guilty' and I'm going to ask that you be released on your own recognizance," Brandon said, getting to his feet so that he could hurry and meet with his next client.

"Uh huh," Alton said.

In his office, Buford Theriot booted up his computer, logged onto the Internet, then indulged in a past time of his. He first checked the local obituaries. 

Mrs. Glenda Woodall, aged seventy nine, had passed away, her funeral would be held at Resurrection Baptist Church in Baylor Lake. She had been Buford's sixth grade teacher at Bienville Middle School and had been a very spiteful, harsh woman. He toyed with the idea of going to the funeral just to tell the old bat that, despite her predictions, he had amounted to something in life.

Then he looked through the police blotters, smiling at the usual 'drunk and disorderly conduct' arrests that had occurred over the weekend. Then he sat upright.

Buford reached for his telephone, then hung it up, logged onto the White Pages of the Internet and looked up St. Elizabeth's Parish Courthouse Clerk of Court's phone number.

"And the arraignment's at ten?" he affirmed.

"What's up?" Clark Duhon, the 'Duhon' of Timmons, Duhon and Associates asked from the doorway of Buford's office.

"My cousin, the one makes all them pirogues been arrested," Buford answered.

"Oh," was all Clark said as Buford checked his calendar.

"I don't have any appointments until two o'clock; it all right if..." Buford asked.

"GO," was Clark's answer.

In the noisy courtroom, Alton sat, waiting his turn. Years of hunting and trapping had taught him the value of patience. He did wish that the people around him had also learned that lesson.

His name was called, Brandon stood and stated that his client wished to plead 'not guilty' and asked for no bail.

"Your Honor, this was a vicious attack; the victim is still unconscious and..." Sarah Guillory, the Assistant District Attorney called out.

"My client acted in self-defense; the alleged victim pulled a nine millimeter handgun on him," Brandon countered.

"Oh," Sarah said, looking at her print-out.

"Bail is set at..." Judge Steven Hill intoned.

"Wait a minute; there's no mention of any gun," Sarah interrupted the judge.

"Lot number JB six four two four two," Brandon smirked, showing Sarah the receipt Officer James Kowalski had provided.

"As I was saying," Judge Steven Hill dryly commented. "Bail is set at thirty thousand; next case please."

"Thirty thousand? Where I'm get that?" Alton cried out.

"I have it," Buford said, getting to his feet.

"Man!" Alton said, happy to see a friendly face in the crowded room.

In the shack, Norma somberly fixed their lunch. Eunice was outside working on the three logs they'd dragged home.

It had been two days since their father had been home, two quiet, fearful days.

Outside, Eunice rolled the three logs so that the sun could dry the wood. She had already completed the pirogue her father had been working on; his arthritic hands were slowing him down. The interior had already been coated with Tung oil.

In his car, driving south, Buford was trying politely to refuse Alton's invitation to lunch at his home. The man smelled horrible and Buford was sure anything the man, or his daughter Norma, would cook, would be just as unappetizing.

"Man, little bit of oil and some corn meal, my Norma? She do it right!" Alton bragged.

"Damn it, man, I put down thirty six hundred bail; haven't I paid enough?" Buford mumbled under his breath.

He parked next to Alton's battered, rusted truck and grudgingly followed the man to the decrepit shack.

"Man, looks like you was better off in jail," Buford thought to himself.

He gingerly climbed up the steps to the door; the stairs looked ready to splinter away from the shack.

"Daddy!" Norma happily screamed when Alton entered the shack.

Buford stepped onto the plywood floor and cringed as the wood sagged underneath his weight. He was sure the wood would give way and he would plunge into the brackish waters beneath the shack.

Buford looked up from his feet as an attractive blonde hug his cousin. If Alton's smell bothered her, she did not let it show as she clung to him, babbling happily.

"Man, cher, missed you yeah," Alton said and kissed the girl on her lips.

"Oh, Cher! This here? This is my cousin! This here's Buford Theriot!" Alton said, introducing Buford to Norma. "Norma, you seen him when you was real little; probably don't remember no."

"Hi," Norma said shyly, angling slightly behind her father.

She looked at the handsome man, with his dark hair well groomed, smooth face, warm brown eyes and good clothes and felt self-conscious.

"Now don't be like that," Alton laughed. "He family yeah."

"Daddy!" Buford heard another girl shrill and turned as a stunning brunette entered the shack and ran to embrace Alton.

Buford's cock hardened as he ogled the girl's muscular, tanned buttocks that peeked out from the short cut offs the girl wore. Her long brown hair hung down, very nearly touching the floor but the curtain of hair did not obscure Buford's view of her tanned legs, gorgeous backside, or cute feet.

"And this here's Ooni," Alton said, turning Eunice to face Buford.

Buford stared into the girl's intelligent hazel eyes; saw her snub nose and full red lips. Her mid section was bare in the ripped tee shirt she wore and he admired her flat belly and small breasts. Her pubic mound was displayed prominently in the snug shorts she wore and he could see a few tendrils of brown hair escaping through the legs.

Eunice felt a lurch as she stared at the handsome, well dressed stranger and she blushed hotly.

"This here's my cousin Buford; he the one sell them pirogues," Alton made the introductions.

"Man cher, you fixing stay for lunch?" Norma asked, still clinging to her father.

Buford realized that what he was smelling, now that Alton was six feet away from him, was causing his stomach to grumble slightly.

"You got enough then yeah," he agreed, not taking his eyes from Eunice's face.

Throughout the lunch, Buford kept looking at Eunice and noticed that quite often; she was sneaking peeks at him as well.

"All right, I really must go; I got an appointment at two," Buford finally said after his third cup of far too strong coffee.

"Man thanks again," Alton said sincerely.

Buford looked over two where the two girls were cleaning the kitchen area and almost blew a load in his shorts; Eunice was bent over, putting the cast iron skillet on a bottom shelf and her buttocks were on full display. The threadbare crotch threatened to burst and a good portion of her pubic hair was on display. Norma was likewise bent over on the other side of the stove, putting the large can of shortening on a shelf. The front of her tee shirt billowed open and Buford could see one of her light brown nipples, large and fat.

"Any way I pay you back..." Alton was still prattling as Buford left the shack.

"Fuck, man, get a grip!" Buford admonished himself as he carefully walked back to his car, keeping an eye out for any snakes; Alton had warned him of the occasional copperhead that liked to sun themselves.

"You're almost forty years old," Buford continued with his self-debasement.

He drove back to his office, met with his clients then went home for the day.

His housekeeper, Mrs. Garcia, was supposed to have been there that morning but if she had been there, she had used very little disinfectant. The house smelled no cleaner than it had that morning when he left for work.

Two dishes that had been in the sink were now in the dishwasher so Buford did concede that Mrs. Garcia had come to the house that morning.

The living room carpet did not look vacuumed; his bedroom linens had not been changed.

"Forty dollars a week? For what?" Buford asked himself as he looked at the streaks on the mirror in the master bathroom.

Alton's house, although nothing to look at, had been nearly spotless. Immediately after the meal, Alton's two girls had not tarried; they had cleaned up. They had taken all the plates to the small sink, they had wiped the table, and they had scrubbed the pots.

In his mind's eye, Buford saw Ooni's tight ass wiggle and waggle as she wiped the table. He saw Norma's unrestrained breasts bounce as she scrubbed the pots. He saw Ooni bent over, putting that skillet on the shelf.

A stream of semen flooded out of his cock, splashing into his toilet bowl.

Chapter 5

Buford hated confrontations. He did not shy away from them, especially when he was right, but he didn't enjoy them.

Mrs. Garcia's stern face was unreadable as he handed her the two twenty dollar bills and demanded his house key back. She stoically removed the key from her large key ring and slid it across the desk, got to her feet, and stomped out of Buford's office.

A moment later, Tammy Timmons was in his office, berating Buford for upsetting her housekeeper. It had been Tammy that had recommended Mrs. Garcia to Buford; obviously Tammy took Mrs. Garcia's termination as a personal affront.

While she was haranguing him, Buford made a decision. The decision surprised him but he agreed with himself, it was a good decision.

"It's just that, with my cousin moving in, I don't need her any longer," Buford finally interjected when Tammy took a breath.

"Oh. I didn't know that," Tammy conceded.

"Didn't realize it was any of your business," Buford snapped.

"Well it's not, but..." Tammy faltered.

"If there's nothing else..." Buford snapped, clicking on his computer's keyboard.

At five thirty, it was already getting dark as Buford parked next to Alton's truck. He got out and balked; the sounds of a nighttime swamp coming to life was frightening to a man that had lived in the city all of his life. 

True, the city was DeGarde, which was nestled in a bend of the Atchafalaya Basin, but the swamp stayed on one side of the levee, and Buford stayed on the other side.

He steeled himself and walked rapidly to the shack.

"Man who that is?" Alton grumbled as the knock sounded at the door.

He was already in a foul mood; Bobby Bordelon had come by asking about Norma, his arthritis was bothering him something fierce, and Ooni had already completed two rockers and a table to his one rocker.

She was working on the desk that Buford kept asking about and only had two drawers to make and it would be ready for coating.

Alton didn't like to admit it, but he was getting old. Ooni and Norma didn't mention it, but Alton hated the fact that Ooni was faster than him and more skilled than him. He didn't like admitting it, but even Norma was showing signs of real skill; she made dolls out of the scraps of wood and scraps of cloth and the dolls sowed real craftsmanship.

"Yeah?" he barked to the other side of the door.

"It's Buford yeah," Buford called out.

"Oh, hey, come on in; glad you stopped by!" Alton lied, swinging the door open.

Over dinner, even though Buford protested, he was given a plate full of rice and gravy and an unidentified meat, Buford explained what he wanted.

"Can't let Norma go," Alton mused aloud.

Norma stomped her foot in disappointment and anger.

Alton shot her a warning look.

"And I need Ooni here, at least on the weekend yeah," he continued to muse.

"That's fine; I can drop her off on Friday, pick her up on Sunday," Buford offered.

"And fifty a week, huh? Man, I don't know..." Alton said.

"How about this," Buford countered, looking into Eunice's hazel eyes. "Fifty a week and fifty more goes toward the thirty six hundred you owe me?" 

"Hmm, that might work," Alton agreed, disappointed that Buford had not forgotten about the three thousand six hundred dollars he owed him.

After the meal, Buford again drank a cup of the almost burnt coffee while Eunice packed all of her clothing and her bow and arrows.

"I'm miss you yeah," a tearful Norma sniffled.

"Man, I be back on Friday yeah," Eunice said, hugging her sister.

"But that's a long time!" Norma whined.

The two sisters kissed again, and then Eunice followed Buford out the door.

"I'm cook and clean, right?" Eunice asked as Buford put her belongings into the trunk of the car.

"Yes, that's about it," Buford agreed.

"I'm good at fishing," Eunice offered. "And I'm better than Daddy at hunting; deer season coming up yeah," Eunice went on as Buford drove them to his house.

His cock strained mightily as he stole glances at her; she was still wearing the old cutoff denim shorts and a tee shirt that didn't reach the belt line of her shorts. She wore canvas tennis shoes on her small feet; they may have been white at one time. He could tell that she wore no bra under the snug tee shirt.

"Eunice, I want fish, I go buy it; Early's Grocery store gets it in fresh every day," Buford informed her.

"That a waste of money yeah," Eunice argued.

"So?" Buford smiled as he backed into his garage.

Eunice stared, wide eyed at everything in his kitchen and Buford had to nudge her to move her along.

She stared at her bed and the adjoining bathroom then looked up and down the narrow hall.

"My bedroom's right there," Buford offered, pointing.

"Where everyone else?" Eunice asked.

"Everyone else who?" Buford asked.

"Who all live here?" Eunice asked.

"No one," Buford said.

"Cher! You got all this house and it just you?" Eunice asked, shocked.

Buford did not know why, but he found himself telling Eunice about the one time he had been married; how he and Yvonne had planned on having at least three children until she discovered that she was in fact gay.

"Who her daddy is?" Eunice asked.

"What? Her daddy? Bob Kirkland," Buford shrugged.

"Well that why yeah," Eunice said. "Need you a good Cajun woman yeah."

At their shack, Alton had his fill of Norma's whining and stood up.

"Off," he ordered, pulling his belt through his jeans' loops.

"No Daddy, I be quiet now," Norma whimpered.

"Time be quiet ten minutes ago yeah," Alton said, snapping the belt. "Off and don't make me say it again no."

Already sobbing, Norma pulled her cut off shorts off then bent over, bracing her hands on the edge of the table.

Alton was angry; with himself for not being able to work as fast and as hard as he used to be able to, for not being able to pay Buford the full amount of the loan, at Norma for her incessant whining, at Bobby Bordelon for coming around, bothering him about Norma.

Norma wailed out loud when the leather belt smacked into her bare buttocks. She continued to wail as Alton lay the belt on her flesh twenty four more times. He only stopped because his arm was stiff.

She stayed in the position for several minutes; knowing better than to pull her hands off the table until her daddy said she could.

"You get up now yeah," a shamefaced Alton gruffly ordered.

She did and returned to her chair without bothering to put her shorts back on.

"Owww!" she wailed out when her tender backside met with the hard wooden seat of her chair.

"Maybe next time listen huh?" Alton said.

He got up, took Eunice's pillow off the bed and brought it back for Norma.

Norma gratefully accepted the pillow and sat down. Alton took his chair and Norma leaned her head on his shoulder. After a moment, Alton kissed the top of her head and rested his hand on her upper thigh.

Chapter 6

Buford dreaded five o'clock. At five o'clock, he would drive back to his house, put Eunice in the passenger seat of his car and drive her home.

Then he would return to his empty house and spend a weekend in desolate, deafening silence.

The first morning with Eunice in the house, he had awakened to the aroma of bacon frying and coffee brewing.

Eunice had asked him what time he got up and when he told her 'seven o'clock' she had shook her head.

"Wasting half the day yeah," was all she said.

He staggered into the kitchen to the sight of a eighteen year old girl in snug tee shirt and panties cooking scrambled eggs, far too much bacon, far too many pieces of buttered toast and a large saucepan of water and coffee grounds.

She turned, looked at him with her beautiful hazel eyes and smiled happily.

She fixed him a cup of coffee by straining the content of the saucepan through a paper towel, heaped too much food onto a plate, then quickly fixed her own plate and they sat and ate together.

"What time you home for lunch?" she asked as he left the table, groaning.

"Not," he said. "I'll get something at the office."

At lunchtime, he had called her.

Where's your line?" she demanded.

"My what?" Buford asked.

"Your line, your line, where you dry your clothes at?" she asked, exasperated. "I been all over your yard; there ain't no line no so where you dry your clothes?"

"In the dryer," he said. "I'll be right home."




Xenophobe



Buford came into his house and found Eunice, soaking wet. His towels, bed linens and his clothes dripping from the shower rod of his bathroom and her bathroom.

He got out a towel, made her dry herself, even though he was enjoying the sight of her eighteen year old breasts in the sodden tee shirt and helped her gather all the clothes.

"Oh! It's like a Maytag!" Ooni had gasped when he pulled her into the garage and showed her the washing machine and the dryer.

"Yeah, in fact..." Buford had said and showed her the 'Maytag' label.

His linens were changed daily, his towels and his clothes from the day before were washed daily. His breakfasts were enormous and his dinners were gluttonous.

And she kissed him before he left for work in the morning, a tender kiss directly on his lips. And kissed him when he returned from work, a tender kiss directly on his lips.

Buford was dreading five o'clock, was dreading the weekend.

At lunch time, Buford drove to Early's and bought a fifth of Jack Daniels black label.

At the DeGarde Police Department, Vernon Brown made his daily lunchtime telephone call to the St. Elizabeth Parish Trauma Center for an update on Lester Burnette's condition. 

This time, instead of being told that the patient was stable, Officer Vernon Brown was told that Lester Burnette had passed away, time of death nine forty nine that morning.

He did not wait, simply got to his feet and marched to his patrol car.

At the shack, Norma was washing the dishes from their lunch while Daddy was outside finishing up the last of the desk drawers. She had admired the workmanship and did not point out that Ooni had done the other three in less time than he was taking on that one drawer.

Alton heard the siren wailing, heard the police cruiser screech to a halt.

When he saw that unfriendly policeman's head pop over the retaining wall, Alton made a snap decision.

"Norma, I be back," he called out and shoved his pirogue into the water.

"What? Where you going?" Norma asked, opening the door of the shack.

Alton cursed himself a few minutes later; he did not have has shotgun, or a fishing pole, or even his axe with him. He had only his small blade with him.

In the shack, an enraged Vernon Brown was screaming at a terrified Norma.

"I don't know; all he said was he be back!" Norma wailed as Vernon demanded to know where her father was.

"Which way did he go?" Vernon demanded.

"Got gone in his pirogue," Norma wailed.

"I find out you're lying..." Vernon threatened, gripping Norma's upper arm tightly, digging into her flesh with his fingernails.

Norma's blue eyes were open from fright as she shook her head.

Vernon flung her away and stomped out of the shack.

At Buford's house, Eunice ran the vacuum cleaner and giggled happily. The noisy machine made very quick work of cleaning the carpet, far quicker than the broom she had tried cleaning the carpet with until Buford showed her how to use the machine.

Norma would be so jealous. She used a washing machine and a dryer, a vacuum cleaner, and even a coffee pot to make coffee. It was a lot easier than boiling water and coffee on the stove.

And the stove was an electric stove. With four burners. There was no jockeying one pot or the other to make sure everything got cooked. 

At three o'clock, Eunice put the vacuum cleaner away and got out the pork shoulder she had cooked the other night. She cubed the leftover meat, chopped up an onion and bell pepper and made a quick gravy. She let that simmer for an hour, then turned it off and prepared the rice.

"Gravy in this pot, rice in that, you microwave it when you hungry," she said when Buford let himself into the house. "I'm ready yeah."

"First, let me show you something," he said and dug out the cheap cell phone he had bought for her.

"And it's already charged up," he explained as she whooped over the gadget.

"My number is the first one; you want me you just hit 'One' and wait," he said as he drove them to the levee.

"I see you," she said, got on her knees and leaned over the console.

She kissed him, then opened the door and scampered out.

He felt an incredible emptiness as he watched her climb the steps of the retaining wall.

"God, stop it!" he chastised himself. "She ain't nothing but a girl!"

Eunice found a frightened Norma waiting, but no Daddy.

Chapter 7

Buford woke up at eleven thirty Saturday morning, head pounding. He had drank most of the fifth of whiskey and had forgotten to eat the meal Ooni had fixed for him.

He staggered into the kitchen, made himself some coffee, then microwave a plate of Ooni's pork stew.

After throwing up what little he had eaten, he staggered back to his bedroom and sprawled across the bed.

At the shack, Eunice finished the desk drawer (by shaving off much of what Daddy had done) then coated it liberally with varnish. She determined that there was enough of the wood left to start on another rocker; Daddy said they liked the rockers at his cousin Buford's store.

Buford told her that during the week, there was an old woman, an old neighbor of his Momma's that ran the store.

Norma came outside and watched Eunice work. Every now and then, she would look at the brackish waters of the Atchafalaya, looking for their daddy.

Eunice looked up as she heard Bobby Bordelon approaching along the well worn path.

"You get on in," she hissed at Norma.

"You don't be telling me......" Norma started but one look in Eunice's eyes and she got to her feet and scampered to the shack.

An extremely overweight man, shirtless, belly drooping over the beltline of his jeans stopped and looked around for Alton Theriot. He scratched his belly, then his balding head, then his beard and fixed his eyes on Eunice.

Eunice pretended not to see the man but did wiggle Alton's twenty two pistol out of the tool box and put it in the waistband of her shorts.

"Hey Eunice, you come see yeah," Bobby gestured.

"Ain't got time play with you no," Eunice said.

"No, no, Cher, just come see," Bobby wheedled.

"Bobby, you know my Daddy don't like you no; why you bothering me?" Eunice asked, putting down the saw and glaring at the thirty five year old man.

"Look I'm just fixing ask you..." Bobby protested.

"You not fixing ask nothing, hear?" Eunice snapped. "GO on and get before I pile one on you yeah!"

Muttering under his breath, Bobby did scuffle away.

Eunice scowled at the man then returned to her work.

She smirked as she heard the door of the shack squeak open.

"He gone yeah," she said and again Norma came out and sat close by, watching her sister work.

At his shop, Buford again apologized to the customer for being so late in opening the shop.

"No, no, don't see what I'm looking for," the woman finally groused and left.

"No, too busy chewing on my ass see what you want," Buford said.

He frowned as his cell phone chimed. He looked at the display and frowned deeper; he did not recognize the number.

At their shack, Norma was awestruck at the brand new cell phone.

"Mara Jolet had her one of them, remember her?" she asked as Eunice waited for Buford to answer the phone.

"Hello?" Buford asked.

"Man, I'm tired being here you come get me?" Eunice asked when Buford answered.

Buford smirked at himself; his mind was slipping. How could he not even remember the phone number he had just given to Eunice?

"Well, yeah!" Buford said happily, already reaching for the 'Closed' sign.

"Come on," Eunice ordered Norma and helped the girl pack some clothes.

She wrote out a note for Alton and left it on the table at his spot.

Norma chattered happily as they waited next to Alton's pick up truck. Buford pulled up while Norma was still asking about the house and Eunice looked up.

She smiled as the handsome man got out of the car, and then frowned as he smiled at the sight of the two of them.

Eunice felt a flare of anger and jealousy; she loved her sister but had enjoyed having a man, one man all to herself. Now, with the much prettier Norma around, she would no longer have Buford to herself.

"Imp do what I can yeah," she promised herself as she put Norma's one pillowcase of clothing into the trunk of Buford's car.

"Come see," she said to Norma, pulling her sister into the rear seat of the car.

"How you do that?" she whispered in Norma's ear. "You know that thing with your mouth? On their thing?"

"You mean sucking?" Norma asked aloud.

"Yeah, not so loud!" Eunice hissed.

"Oh that easy yeah," Norma enthused and grabbed Eunice's hand.

She took Eunice's index finger and slowly sucked the finger into her mouth.

Eunice giggled as she felt Norma's tongue tickling around the finger.

Buford almost ran through a red light, watching the two girls in the back seat of his car.

"And that's it yeah," Norma said after releasing Eunice's finger with a 'pop.'

"Like this?" Eunice asked, taking Norma's finger and repeating the process.

"Yeah," Norma said as Eunice sucked her finger. "Not them teeth."

Eunice opened her jaws slightly, removing her teeth from the process and Norma sighed, enjoying the sensation she was receiving.

"Now, when they spit that stuff out you going want to spit it all out," she cautioned Eunice. "But don't do that, they don't like that no."

"Then what I do?" Eunice asked.

"Just eat it like it some turnip or something," Norma shrugged.

"Ew, I don't like turnips no," Eunice grimaced.

Again, Buford got to see his house through someone else's eyes. The kitchen appliances were all old; his last girlfriend had complained that they would all need to be replaced 'when we get married.' He had not married her. Within a month of being kicked to the curb, Irma Thompson had marched up the aisle with a roughneck oil field worker and set about spending Tee-Don's paycheck faster than he could make it.

But both Eunice and Norma were impressed with his home.

And come on," Eunice enthused, leading her sister down the hall.

Norma sank into the mattress and wiggled on the velvet coverlet.

"I like this yeah," she sighed.

"Like this too," Eunice bragged and showed Norma the bathroom.

"Oh!" Norma gasped, looking at the tub and shower.

"Hey, girls, it's almost five o'clock," Buford said from the doorway of the bedroom.

"Oh! I'm so sorry me!" Eunice gasped and scurried down the hall to the kitchen.

"That's not what I meant," Buford said, grabbing her hands as she began pulling cans out of the pantry.

"Then what?" Eunice asked.

"Ooni, it's Saturday yeah; you're off," Buford said, laughing happily.

He was so happy to have the beautiful girl in his house he almost felt like hugging her.

"I meant, how about we go to Clark's Drive-In? Grab a couple of burgers?" he asked.

"Yeah that sound good," Eunice agreed.

Getting into the car almost resulted in a fight between the sisters; both girls insisted on sitting up front.

Norma finally won and Eunice sat in the rear of the car sulking.

"Oh!" Norma gasped as she saw two girls whizzing past on their roller skates. "I ain't never done that no!"

"Roller skating?" Buford asked as a third girl skidded to a stop next to the car.

"You're going to have to give us a couple of minutes yeah," Buford admitted and the girl smiled and skated to another new arrival.

Eunice had to talk Norma out of ordering the Goliath, a three patty cheeseburger, compromising on a double patty and a chocolate malt.

Just to prove that she could have eaten the triple patty cheeseburger, Norma gamely struggled to finish her burger and her French fries and her chocolate malt.

All three laughed when Norma let out a Goliath sized belch just as she was sucking the last of the malt down.

Buford drove them back to his house and stopped Eunice just before she entered the house.

"I was real glad you called me," he admitted.

"Me too," she said, gave him a soft kiss, and followed her sister into the house.

Eunice looked into his warm brown eyes, smiled and gave him a second kiss, then followed Norma down the hall to their room.

"Come on you," she ordered, pulling Norma into the bathroom.

The two stripped out of their clothing and Norma shrieked when the first blast of water out of the shower was ice cold.

Then she sighed as the warm water cascaded over her.

"Here, shut them eyes," Eunice ordered and Norma scrunched her eyes tightly shut.

Eunice poured a small dab of shampoo into her palm, and then slowly worked it through Norma's long blond hair. Eunice knew Norma's limits of scrunching her eyes tight so she worked rapidly.

"And..." she crooned to her sister as she worked the lather out of her sister's hair.

Then she grabbed the thick washcloth and got the cloth sudsy with the scented soap.

"Oh!" Norma sighed as she smelled the fragrant soap.

"Now..." Eunice said and turned Norma around so that the spray could rinse her clean.

She then backed Norma away and made quick work of cleaning herself.

"Now, come see," Eunice said, smiling mischievously.

"What?" Norma asked.

Eunice pulled the hand held shower from the hook, put her left arm around Norma's slim waist, pressed her lips to Norma's lips, and then pushed the spray of the shower directly to Norma's pubic mound.

"Ah!" Norma gasped into her sister's mouth as Eunice's tongue searched Norma's mouth.

She stiffened as the water tickled her clitoris into a small orgasm, and then slumped against Eunice.

"That something, huh?" Eunice whispered into her sister's ear, kissed her quickly, and then put the shower head back on the hook.

"Yeah, that something," Norma weakly agreed.

Buford was in his recliner, channel surfing, when both girls, long hair still quite damp, dressed in tee shirts that barely reached to mid-thing, entered the living room.

"Mr. Buford, you got you a radio?" Norma asked, looking around the large room.

"Uh yeah, yeah, right here," Buford said, indicating the surround sound system's receiver.

"You get K.U.L.D?" Eunice asked.

"Huh? Oh, the station out of U.L.D. Yeah, yeah, I think so," Buford agreed and switched the system over from television to FM reception.

"We move this over?" Eunice asked, indicating the low coffee table.

"Uh, sure," he agreed and moved the furniture to where she indicated.

Both girls sat on the couch, patiently waiting as the disc jockey first announced the show in English, then again in Cajun French. 

Buford was surprised at how much he remembered of his upbringing, and was ashamed at how much he did not remember.

"Aw yeah!" Norma whooped as a lively tune began and both girls got to their feet and began dancing.

Buford's eyes opened wide as Eunice gave Norma a quick twirl and Norma's shirt rose up, revealing skimpy bikini panties to his gaze. Again and again, Norma's shapely buttocks and prominent pubic mound, encased in faded white panties flashed in front of him.

"You know how to dance, Mr. Buford?" Norma asked when the song ended.

"Uh no, no, afraid not," he admitted, trying hard to shift his erection so that it was not so apparent.

A slow waltz started and Norma draped herself over her sister. Buford's erection went from rock hard to painful as he watched Eunice's hand cup Norma's buttocks and Norma's lips gently nuzzle Eunice's neck.

Eunice's hand slipped under the hem of Norma's tee shirt and the two girls kissed as the song progressed.

Buford wondered how he could get out of his chair, walk past the two girls, and get to his room to masturbate, without either girl noticing.

"Aw!" Norma sighed, disappointed, when the song finished.

Eunice smiled, pulled her hand out from under Norma's tee shirt, and gave her sister a quick kiss.

"Aw, good; it ain't that Freddy," Eunice said as the disc jockey announced T-John Chastaine.

"You shut up; I like him!" Norma protested.

Buford struggled to understand the comedian as he spoke, but had to admit he only understood every third of fourth word.

"Oh!" Eunice gasped, eyes wide, when T-John gave the punch line.

"I don't get it no," Norma admitted as Eunice covered her mouth, giggling.

"Okay, okay, you know how she said 'that ain't my belly button,'" Eunice explained.

"Well, yeah, but what was it?" Norma asked.

"It was her..." Eunice said then whispered, "Pussy."

"And then he said..." Norma said, still frowning.

"'That ain't my finger neither, Cher!'" Eunice said, giggling again.

"Then what..." Norma puzzled.

"It was his thing," Eunice whispered into Norma's ear.

"Oh," Norma said then gasped loudly. "Oh!"

She slapped Eunice.

"That's nasty!" she exclaimed.

"Hey, I didn't say it no!" Eunice protested.

A few commercials followed and Buford wondered how much it would cost to advertise Timmons, Duhon and Associates on this program. Clark did speak some Cajun French. He resolved to call the University on Monday morning.

He watched the girls dance with each other; the rousing jitterbugs gave him several glimpses of Norma's shapely buttocks and her pubic mound. He could see some blonde tendrils escaping through the leg openings of her panties.

He could also see that both girls' tee shirts were soaked in sweat by the time Eunice declared it to be their bed time.

"Aw!" Norma whined but dutifully followed her sister down the hall.

"Good night, Mr. Buford," Buford heard Norma's voice float back to him.

"Good night, girls," he called back as he shoved the coffee table back into place.

Chapter 8

Buford woke up, slightly groggy. Then he smelled the bacon and the coffee.

A look at the clock told him it was only seven o'clock in the morning.

He staggered into his bathroom, urinated, thought about Norma's shapely buttocks in her bikini panties; thought of Eunice's small breasts pressed against the damp material of her tee shirt and felt his cock harden in his hand.

He had masturbated twice last night but obviously he would need to stroke one out before he could enter the kitchen of his home.

His mind's eye saw the two girls as they kissed while dancing and he nearly fell over as his semen splashed into the bowl.

Two girls looked over at Buford, both smiling happily as he entered the kitchen.

"You get him some coffee; he like cream but no sugar," Eunice ordered and Norma dutifully pranced over to the coffee pot and followed Eunice's directions.

"Thank you," Buford told the smiling blonde.

Norma then looked questioningly at Eunice until Eunice nodded in approval and Norma happily fixed herself a cup of coffee with far too much sugar and cream.

When she sat down, Buford could see that Norma no longer wore the snug panties.

Eunice put a plate of too much eggs, bacon and toast in front of him.

She then put her plate and Norma's plate down.

"And..." Eunice said, digging the carton of orange juice out.

Buford used the distraction and put half of his bacon on Eunice's plate. He put his finger to his lips and Norma giggled.

"What?" Eunice asked the giggling Norma as she put his glass of orange juice down.

"Beats me," Buford said, face a mask of innocence. "Maybe she's just happy?"

"Why I got more bacon?" Eunice asked, glancing at her plate.

"The Bacon Fairy?" Buford suggested and Norma collapsed in a gale of giggles.

"The Bacon Fairy!" Norma hooted. "Oh! Oh! I'm pee myself yeah!"

"Come on you," Eunice said, pulling Norma to her feet and pulling her to the half-bath in the hall. "You so silly, you."

Buford scraped some of his eggs onto Eunice's plate and began calmly eating

"Wash them hands?" Buford asked when the two girls returned.

"Yes," Eunice huffed; perturbed that he would doubt that they washed their hands.

"You don't do that no more," Norma ordered Buford, glaring at him.

"Do what? Talk about the Bacon Fairy?" Buford smiled and Norma lost her frown and started giggling again.




Xenophobe



"Here, the Bacon Fairy said give you some too," Eunice told Norma and put a few pieces on her plate.

"And what the Bacon Fairy look like?" Norma asked her sister.

Buford had done some drawing in college; had even entertained the idea of being a commercial artist, but realized he was not skilled enough.

"Bet she would look like this," he said and rapidly sketched out a pig with wings, carrying a plate piled high with bacon. 

He put a short skirt on the pig and a snug wife beater shirt with enormous breasts threatening to spill out.

"Yep, that's what she'd look like," he mused and tore the page off of his pad and slid it over to Norma.

Norma gasped as she admired the drawing and showed it to Eunice.

"Oh, I always wondered what she looked like," Eunice teased her sister.

"That's what she looks like," Norma agreed

"What you doing today?" Eunice asked Buford.

"Saints play at twelve then after that I don't know," Buford said.

"Oh, I watch that with you?" Eunice asked.

"Yeah, you like football?" Buford asked.

"Well yeah," Eunice said, as if he was silly for asking.

"I don't," Norma said.

"Don't worry, you don't got to watch," Eunice said.

"Then what I do?" Norma asked.

"Play 'poke and grits,'" Eunice suggested.

"No, Ooni, come on, what I do?" Norma asked as she shoved the last of her food into her mouth.

"What's poke and grits?" Buford asked.

"Poke them feet under the table and grits your teeth looking stupid, yeah, like that," Eunice smirked at him.

"Ha ha," Buford smirked.

"Ooni, come on, what..." Norma whined.

"Come on, help me clean the kitchen and then I show you," Eunice said.

The two made very quick work of cleaning up. Norma grabbed her 'Bacon Fairy' drawing as she prepared to leave the room.

"Thank you, Mr. Buford," she said and gave him a jammy kiss on his lips.

Eunice pulled Norma into the bedroom, put Norma in the bed, pilled all the pillows up behind her, and then turned the small television on.

"And here," Eunice said and found the Cartoon Network for her sister.

"Oh!" Norma sighed happily.

Eunice climbed into the bed and snuggled up against her sister. They wrapped their legs around each other and put their arms around each other.

Norma was nearly asleep at eleven thirty when Eunice wiggled free.

Eunice scampered into the kitchen, quickly made two bacon and cheese sandwiches and then microwave a bowl of soup, put soup and sandwiches on a large cookie sheet and carried that into the bedroom.

Norma could not keep her eyes open after the meal and sleepily agreed that it was time for a nap.

Buford put a tub of popcorn on the coffee table and smirked as Eunice stood, had on her left breast as the Star Spangled Banner was played.

"Oh, I can have one?" Eunice asked when Buford popped open a can of beer.

The Saints were down by seventeen points at Half Time and Eunice muttered angrily to herself as she cleaned up the tub of kernels and the three empty beer cans.

"Um, hey, I um, I can ask you something?" Buford asked when she returned, carrying a third beer for him and a second beer for herself.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Your um, Norma? Is she slow?" Buford asked.

Tears immediately sprang to Eunice's eyes.

"She special yeah. She got caught up in the umbilical cord and didn't get no oxygen when she was born," Eunice said.

"It's just that..." Buford said.

"And yeah, she a little slow but she a real sweet girl and she don't hurt nobody no," Eunice spat out angrily.

"I didn't..." Buford said, startled by her anger.

"And people always making fun of her and trying use her," Eunice raged.

"Shh, I'm not making fun of her," Buford said, pulling her to him.

"And I got to take care of her," Eunice sobbed out and clung to him.

"And you're doing a great job," he agreed.

"I love her so much," she sobbed, wiping at her eyes.

"I can see that," Buford agreed.

He sat down, pulling her onto his lap.

"She can't help it no," Eunice continued.

"I know, I know," he soothed.

After a moment, she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered into his ear.

"Thank... For what?" he asked, hoping that she would not feel the raging erection she had given him.

"I don't... I try real hard not get all mad at her; I know it ain't her fault," Eunice said softly.

"No, no it's not," he agreed.

"But sometimes I'm like 'what about me, huh? Why I can't be selfish? Why I can't get what I want? Why she always got to get what she want?' You know?" Eunice admitted softly.

She sat quietly for a moment, and then kissed him on his cheek. He turned his face and she kissed his lips softly then wiggled out of his lap.

A moment later, he got to his feet, scurried into the hall bathroom and groaned. He did not get his pants unzipped before he spurted heavily into his briefs.

The Saints did lose the game. Eunice muttered angrily about their defense's short-comings as she took the three empty cans into the kitchen, rinsed them out and put them into the recycling bin.

Norma was groggy and in a bad mood when Eunice roused her from her three hour nap.

"Fine, fine, next time I make you watch football with me," Eunice threatened.

She pulled the still fussing Norma into the kitchen, got out a box of cake mix and got Norma to work.

Given a familiar task, Norma soon lost the bad attitude and laughed happily when she got to lick the beaters clean of the cake batter.

In the living room, Buford watched the Colts embarrass the Titans; the other channel had the Bills and Steelers and Buford loathed the Pittsburg Steelers.

"We make a bundt cake, okay?" Eunice suggested, finding no other cake pans.

"Y'all like Mexican?" Buford asked at halftime.

"Well yeah!" Norma agreed.

"Good, good, there's a new place just opened; we'll try them out after the game, okay?" Buford said and grabbed himself another beer.

"Here, you don't need no more beer," Eunice said, pouring him the last of the coffee that as left over from their breakfast.

Buford was about to tell her that she was his employee; she did not tell him what to do. But he realized, he'd already had seven beers. One more beer might not hurt, but then again, it might impair his driving abilities.

"Thanks," he said and kissed Eunice on the top of her head.

"Uh huh," Eunice said and helped Norma pour the heavy bowl of batter into the cake pan.

"And we can have that when we get back," she told Norma as she slid the pan into the hot oven.

"That long?" Norma complained.

"Go," Eunice said, pointing to the door. "You go to your room and play 'poke and grits' hear?"

"You don't tell me what to do no," Norma fussed.

Eunice set the timer then pulled Norma down the hall.

"Come on; Eunice said, sitting on the bed and pulling Norma backward to sit in her lap.

She grabbed the hairbrush off the dresser and began to brush Norma's long blonde hair.

Norma murmured happily as Eunice took long deliberate strokes through her hair.

"Man, you got you some hair yeah," Eunice complained lightly.

"Long as yours," Norma replied.

"Cut it all off, right here," Eunice said, indicating the back of Norma's neck.

"No Ooni!" Norma protested.

"Shut up you, teasing yeah," Eunice said, putting both arms around Norma's waist and hugging her.

When she had finished brushing Norma's hair, Eunice selected clothing for them to wear, then quickly left the bedroom.

"Smell's good yeah," Buford commented as she scurried past the living room to the kitchen.

She got to the kitchen just as the timer dinged and she shut the oven off. She cracked the oven door open slightly, and then scurried back down the hall.

"We're at the two minute warning," Buford commented.

"Yeah? Who you think going win?" she asked, looking at the lopsided score.

"Hmm, I don't know," he laughed.

Chapter9

Casa Ole was a New Mexican restaurant that had just opened near the University of Louisiana at DeGarde. It was getting more positive reviews for its alcoholic beverages than its food, but it was open on Sundays. Manny's, the better Mexican restaurant was closed on Sundays.

"Oh, Mr. Lemoine? He took me one time to this place?" Norma said as she looked at the colorful photograph of a pitcher of frozen margarita. "And he got me this drink? It was so good yeah."

"And then made you put his thing in his mouth yeah," Eunice grumbled.

"You want one?" Buford asked then grunted as Eunice elbowed him in his side.

"Yeah!" Norma agreed.

Buford ordered her a virgin margarita and smiled as Eunice put an approving hand on his upper thigh.

A moment later, the waitress put the drink in front of Norma.

"Slow, hear?" Eunice demanded but Norma drank nearly half the drink in one gulp.

Buford looked over as a patron at another table pointed to his drink, complaining. Their waitress looked over at the three of them and Buford realized that Norma had gotten the drink that was intended for the other patron. He did not say anything to Eunice.

"I have me another one?" Norma begged.

"No," Eunice said as Norma drained the glass. "Remember? You got all sick last time. Just get you some iced tea yeah."

"Mr. Buford?" Norma asked, pouting.

"She's right yeah; you don't need be getting all sick no," he said and braced himself for the whining.

"Remember, we got cake too," Eunice placated.

Just as on the ride to the Mexican restaurant, Norma whined until Eunice conceded and let Norma sit in the front seat.

"That was so good!" Norma enthused as Buford drove them home.

Buford looked over and shrugged his shoulders. To him, the food had been barely adequate, having that 'fresh from the microwave' taste to him.

"Them tamales was good, huh?" Eunice asked from the back seat

"And them tacos too!" Norma agreed.

Once home, Buford grabbed himself a beer and prepared to watch the Sunday Night Football game.

"I have me one?" Norma asked, pointing to the beer.

"One," Eunice said. "After cake."

"Oh yeah! We got cake!" Norma said and sat down at the table.

"Uh, that cake ain't cutting itself no," Eunice said. "There ain't no Cake Fairy lives here."

"Mr. Buford, what the Cake Fairy look like?" Norma asked.

"Hmm, let me see," he said and grabbed his pad.

He drew a caricature of a very fat woman, complete with five double chins, holding a three layer cake. Her blouse was straining at the buttons, her belly hung out over the very short skirt and her pantyhose had tears and runs.

Norma laughed at the ridiculous drawing.

"Look like that Bobby Bordelon," she exclaimed.

Buford looked over as Eunice bent over to get the dishwashing liquid soap out from under the sink. Her shorts gaped open, showing him that she was not wearing panties. Her inner lips peeked out; a dark pink nestled in the brown curls.

"Leave that for a minute and eat some cake," he ordered.

She smiled over her shoulder at him, and then straightened.

"And then she went on that Weight Watchers," Buford said to Norma and quickly doodled a voluptuous fairy in a skimpy bikini, holding an anemic looking cake.

"I like her before," Norma declared, using her fingers to get the last of the cake.

Then she got to her feet and grabbed a can of beer out of the refrigerator. Again, Buford got a jammy kiss of thanks and Norma sat back down, already guzzling the beer.

"Cake was good," Buford said to Eunice.

"I made it yeah," Norma declared.

Before he could get to his feet, Eunice cleared away his plate and Norma's plate, and then finished eating her own piece of cake.

"Come on you," she ordered Norma as the girl let out a healthy burp.

Buford heard Norma's drunken giggles as Eunice pulled her down the hall.

"Two drinks and she's drunk yeah," he said to himself.

Norma sang drunkenly as Eunice stripped her and squealed then laughed when the cold shower spray hit her.

"You do that thing again?" Norma demanded, pointing to the shower handle.

"What? This?" Eunice asked and lightly sprayed Norma's blonde curls.

"Yeah," Norma sighed.

"You wait," Eunice said and quickly shaved her legs and underarms.

Then she pulled Norma to herself, gave the girl a soft, lingering kiss.

"Ew, cake and beer?" she teased, then grabbed the shower handle.

"Don't!" Norma giggled when Eunice sprayed her buttocks and made like she was going to shove the nozzle between her cheeks.

Norma sighed as Eunice played the spray over her breasts, then down her belly, then between her legs.

"Oh I like that yeah," she sighed as Eunice pressed the nozzle directly against her pussy.

The two hugged and kissed until Norma shuddered in orgasm.

In the living room, Buford absently watched the football game. He heard the shower shut off. His cock hardened at the thought of his Eunice's naked body, dripping wet.

"Stop it; she's just a kid," he admonished himself.

"She's eighteen," he reminded himself.

"Mr. Buford, we listen to the radio?" Norma asked as the two girls came into the living room.

Buford smiled at the two girls, long hair still quite damp, dressed in their long tee shirts.

He didn't care about either team that was playing so he switched his receiver to radio. Classical music poured out.

"Oh that's right, Sunday night, they got that stupid old people music," Eunice complained.

Buford shrugged as the two girls left, heading back to their bedroom.

Eunice again put the small television on and got Norma snuggled into the bed, watching the Cartoon Network.

She then got into the bed and the two girls wrapped their legs and arms around each other.

Norma sighed as she felt Eunice's fingers at her pussy. She gave Eunice a long kiss as Eunice's fingers dug into her pussy.

"Oh," she shuddered as Eunice's thumb mashed against her clitoris.

Eunice grabbed Norma's right hand and put the hand between her own legs. Norma lightly rubbed up and down Eunice's wet slit, and then pushed her thumb against Eunice's clitoris. 

The girls kissed; their kiss becoming more frantic the closer they got to orgasm.

"Oh!" Norma moaned loudly into Eunice's mouth.

A moment later, Eunice also moaned and Norma felt her fingers get wetter.

They lay, softly stroking each other's bellies and upper thighs, occasionally rubbing over each other's pubic mounds, but they did not masturbate again.

"I'm going sleep," Norma sleepily whispered and Eunice moved a few of the pillows away and let Norma stretch out for sleep.

When she heard Norma's light snoring, she wiggled out of the bed, pulled her tee shirt off, and then went out in the hall.

The living room was dark, but Eunice could see that the light was on in Buford's room. She steeled her nerves; she wanted this man for herself. Norma had been their father's favorite for years; Eunice had never had Alton's love. Eunice did not want to share Buford and didn't want Buford to choose Norma over her, so determined to make the first move.

Eunice counted to ten quietly then walked into the room.

Buford was preparing to slide into the bed when he saw the movement. He turned and almost fell over as the nude girl stepped into his room.

"Cher I sleep in here tonight?" Eunice begged, her resolve already slipping.

Suppose he already had decided he wanted Norma more?

"Uh um, yeah, I, you sure?" Buford stammered, his rapidly hardening cock becoming tangled in his briefs.

In answer, she walked to the other side of the bed and slid in.

Buford turned off the overhead light, leaving the bedside lamp on.

"I um, I mean I..." he stammered and she slid over to him.

"Please? I love you yeah," she said and kissed him.

She wormed her tongue into his mouth, thinking that beer, cake, and toothpaste wasn't the best taste she'd ever had.

She moaned into his mouth when she felt his large hands touch her back.

One hand moved the long hair aside and he cupped her full buttocks. The other hand found her right breast and lightly kneaded the flesh.

"Oh," she sighed into his mouth.

She wiggled until she was laying on top of him, never losing contact with his mouth.

"I love you yeah," she repeated softly.

"Love you too," he agreed.

She sighed, relief washing over her.

"I ain't never done this no," she admitted and wiggled her butt against his hand.

"We don't have..." he said, not meaning a word of it.

"But I'm wanting to bad," she admitted and slid down his chest.

He looked down as she peeled his briefs down, exposing his throbbing erection.

"Man you big huh?" she gasped as she revealed his six Inc erection.

Buford shrugged; as far as he knew, he was average. Then he remembered; she had never done this before. To her small calloused hands, his cock did seem huge.

"Norma done showed me," she sighed and took the head of his cock into her mouth.

"Oh shit!" Buford groaned as he felt her close her lips softly around his cock, just under the ridge of the helmet.

She licked slowly around the helmet and slid another inch of him into her mouth.

"Oh shit, Honey, oh Ooni; Damn I ain't going..." Buford grunted and loosed a torrent into her mouth.

Eunice though that Norma was right. She did want to spit the unpleasant tasting stuff out.

"It just like turnips," she told herself and swallowed.

"Oh damn, damn, damn," Buford weakly muttered as he felt the last shot of his semen spurt out of his cock.

Eunice remembered overhearing one boy telling another boy that his girlfriend would tongue his nuts. Eunice had gone and told the girl what she'd overheard her boyfriend saying and within hours, it was all over Baylor Lake High School that the girl had slugged the boy in the face, and then kicked him in his well-tongued nuts.

Eunice bent and licked her tongue over Buford's quite hair scrotum, then tried to lift one of the heavy orbs with her tongue. Failing that, she tried to lift the other with her tongue.

Buford had been sure he would never get another erection after blowing such a huge load into the eighteen year old girl's mouth, but her attention to his scrotum was causing his cock to harden immediately.

She put his cock in her mouth again. He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her around, putting her legs on either side of his head. He had to lean forward as she was considerably shorter than himself but he did lean forward and began to tongue her pussy ravenously.

"Oh I like that yeah," she groaned and again sucked on his cock.

He found her small clitoris and sucked it into his mouth.

"Oh!" she grunted in orgasm when his teeth lightly nipped the sensitive organ.

He then began to tongue her anus; his wife, Yvonne had really liked anal play, tongues, fingers, and finally cocks entering her back door.

Eunice seemed to like it too; she reached back with one hand and pulled on her buttock, opening herself for his tongue.

He wormed a finger into her anus, then again licked at her pussy. Eunice forgot that she was supposed to be sucking his cock and just wiggled and groaned as he serviced her.

By her second orgasm, Buford had three fingers corkscrewing in and out of her ass and she was bouncing, taking those fingers in as deep as they would go.

To take her virginity, he had her straddle his hips, and then lower her pussy onto his throbbing cock.

He tried to remember what the final score of the Saints game had been, tried to count all thirty two football teams in alphabetical order, tried to name their cities but as soon as he felt her pubic mound press down against his pubic bone, he was spurting into her tight pussy.

"It get better," Eunice assured him and herself as she wiggled off of him.

Then she was asleep.

He woke up to an empty bed and to the smells of sausage and coffee.

Both girls looked over, and then both girls giggled to each other as he sat down at the table.

Eunice walked over to him, gave him a very loving kiss, playfully rubbed his head, messing up his hair, and then returned to the stove. Norma was scraping the last of the sausage patties out of the skillet and looked over her shoulder at him.




Xenophobe



"Mr. Buford, there a Sausage Fairy?" Norma asked as she began fixing his cup of coffee for him.

"No, Honey, the Bacon Fairy handles all that," Buford said, watching her rear end wiggle and waggle as she stirred the cream into his coffee.

"Told you," Eunice said and playfully pinched Norma's backside.

"Quit you!" Norma protested as she carried the cup of coffee to Buford.

"In fact, most people know her as the Pork Chop Fairy," Buford surmised.

Norma fixed her own cup of coffee and sat down across from him. Again, he could see that Norma wore no panties under her sleep shirt.

"We got any wood?" Norma suddenly asked, sitting up.

"You're giving me wood," he almost said but knew she wouldn't get it, and Eunice wouldn't be happy.

"You got you them scraps we brung," Eunice reminded her.

Again, Eunice fixed too much food for him; Buford remembered buying an exercise contraption one drunken night shortly after Yvonne left him. He supposed he could put it together and put it into the third bedroom.

As he walked, miserable after eating so much food, he peered into the room and deduced it would fit nicely.

Shaved, showered and dressed in coat and tie, he walked through the kitchen just as both Norma and Eunice bent to put the pots and pans into the cabinet. His erection was immediate; Norma's pussy lips peeked open, revealing the inner charms and Eunice's pubic hair was still matted together with his semen.

"You coming home for lunch?" Eunice asked, pressing her body against him.

"Probably not," he said.

"Oh, then we see you for dinner," she said and gave him a passionate kiss.

Norma also gave him a hug and a jammy kiss and Buford ground his teeth as his painful erection was trapped in his snug briefs.

He heard both girls giggle again as he closed the door from the kitchen into the garage.

Chapter 10 

In the Sheriff's office, Sheriff Bob Chastaine looked at the roster of faxes and saw that Lester Burnette had passed away. So far, though, the St. Elizabeth's Courthouse had not rescinded the bail; there was no warrant for Alton's arrest.

"Still wouldn't hurt..." he mused to himself.

Officer James Kowalski and Officer Jerome Malone were dispatched. Officer Jerome Malone was African-American, but did not share Officer Vernon Brown's deep-seated racist attitudes towards Caucasians.

In the office, Officer Vernon Brown did ask his supervisor why that 'Uncle Tom' and 'that white Supremist' were sent and not himself and his partner, Deputy Gordon Pennington.

"They're just going out there let Mr. Theriot know of Mr. Burnette's passing," Bob calmly told the irate officer.

"And you ain't arresting him? Boy's dead," Vernon shrilled.

"No warrant's been issued," Bob said, beginning to lose his calm.

"Well, ain't this a bunch of shit," Vernon snapped, slamming his way out of the office.

In Buford's house, Norma whined as Eunice pulled her off the couch and put her to work, doing the light dusting.

She squealed when Eunice slapped her bare buttocks.

"And go put you some clothes on, running around your hiney all hanging out," she demanded.

Norma went down the hall, rubbing her buttock.

Ten minutes later, Eunice went in search of Norma.

The bedroom was empty, but she heard rustling from the closet.

"Come on you, ain't got time you playing around no," she declared, sliding the closet door open.

"Aw!" Norma giggled.

"You so silly yeah," Eunice said, giving her sister a soft kiss. "Now, come on, put you some clothes on."

"And a bra too," she demanded as Norma simply wiggled into a pair of cut off shorts.

"I don't like them; they too tight," Norma complained but did pull the tee shirt off and put one on.

"Let's see," Eunice asked and ran her finger around the cups. "And we just got you that one."

She could see that the material was very snug and nodded agreement.

"Ask Buford he buy you a new one," she decided.

Inside she was worried; Daddy always made fun of her smaller breasts; grabbing them and loudly proclaiming how itty bitty they were. Suppose Buford liked Norma's larger breasts?

But she couldn't let her sister run around with an uncomfortable bra either.

"Ooh, you think he might get me one of them black ones?" Norma asked, eyes wide open with hope.

"Maybe, how I know?" Eunice asked, unhappily.

At lunch time, Buford did wrestle with the idea of going home to be with Eunice and Norma, even thought of having a 'nooner' with Eunice, but seeing that he had a twelve-thirty appointment with Mr. Dumas he settled for an order of wings from 'The Best Wings In Bender.'

His cell phone buzzed just as he was scraping the last bone clean of meat.

"Hello?" he asked, smiling.

"Hey, need ask you something," Eunice said.

"Yeah?" Buford asked.

"Um, Norma? She need her a bigger bra, one go on her head," Eunice asked.

Buford laughed as he heard Norma's protest in the background.

Oh, yeah, we go get one..." he said, and then a huge belch escaped.

Eunice was still laughing when she ended the call.

Buford was grateful that his erection had wilted by the time his client came in for their appointment. His cock did resurge a few times as he imagined Eunice in a half-cup bra, light brown nipples on display. He imagined both Norma and Eunice in black lace thong panties and fishnet stockings and garter belts.

Yvonne had once bought a red corset and red stockings; she'd only worn it once, declaring that it was 'demeaning' for her to wear it. It had been the sexiest thing she'd ever worn and he had loved it.

Buford wondered for a moment if Eunice would think it demeaning to wear a corset and stockings and panties.

At the house, Eunice was losing patience with her sister.

"I don't know what kind he getting you; going tell him just get you a sock put in that mouth you keep asking me," she snapped and decided to put Norma to work making smothered steak for their dinner.

"Where the rice pot?" Norma called out.

"Ain't got one; just use a regular one, you know how to do it yeah, quit playing around," Eunice snapped and made quick work of vacuuming the living room.

At the Police station, Sheriff Chastaine was a little concerned when Officer James Kowalski let him know that there was no sign of life around the Theriot house and a neighbor, one Robert Bordelon, told him that there had been no sign of life for quite a few days.

"Now you going look for him?" Officer Vernon Brown demanded. "Huh? Mother Fucker wasn't there when I went..."

He let the words die in his throat.

"When did you go there, Officer?" Sheriff Chastaine asked, getting to his feet.

"I um, you know, I um I heard that boy died and..." the man offered weakly.

"Officer Vernon Brown, you are hereby on suspension pending investigation; God help you I find out you went there on your own acting as an agent of this department," Sheriff Chastaine bellowed, hand on the butt of his revolver.

"Might be a 'Tom' but I still got me a job, mother fucker," Officer Malone muttered as Officer Brown pushed past him.

At three thirty, Buford snuck out of the office, unable to delay his excitement any longer. He drove at a quick speed to get home.

Norma happily turned the stove off, covered the pot and agreed that she was ready.

Again, Norma had to sit in the front seat as Buford drove them to Babbage's; the exclusive department store of Bender, Louisiana. It was slightly larger, and the staff less snooty than Abdul's, the expensive department store in DeGarde, Louisiana.

"We just here get you a bra yeah; don't be looking at nothing else," Eunice ordered as Norma immediately began looking at the frilly undergarments.

"Hey now, it my money; I get to spend it on what I want, huh?" Buford asked.

"I, well, yeah, I guess," Eunice agreed.

If the sales clerk though anything of the nearly forty year old man standing there with two young women, selecting quite racy outfits for them, she did not let it reflect. She kept her face friendly, professional.

"Oh, I like that; that so pretty!" Norma exclaimed as Buford showed Eunice a pink bustier and matching lace panties.

He found one in the size that the sales clerk said would fit Norma. Since Norma was getting one, Eunice agreed to get one also.

Buford shrugged and agreed that Norma could have a black bra as well as the white one he was buying for her. Again, the sales clerk forced a smile as he found a half-cup one for Norma and for Eunice.

"And these match," the sales clerk offered, pointing out the black thong panties.

The total for all the lingerie was nearly five hundred dollars, but Buford was happy and both girls were happy, constantly looking inside the bags at the pretty undergarments.

"Thank you, Mr. Buford," Norma said and gave him a kiss.

"Yeah, thank you Cher," Eunice said and gave him a kiss as well.

That night, he already had the radio on when the two girls came in, fresh from their shower.

"Thank you," Eunice smiled and put an arm around Norma as they waited for their program to start.

"Mr. Buford, it supposed dig up in my hiney like that?" Norma asked turning and pulling the hem of her tee shirt up.

"Uh yeah, yeah; called a thong," Buford stammered, looking at the black panties and Norma's tight little backside.

"Told you," Eunice said. "Mine doing the same thing."

"Let me see," Buford asked and Eunice smiled and turned, pulling the hem of her tee shirt up.

"Oh yeah, that's nice yeah," Buford said, admiring the black thong and her two fleshy globes.

The program started and Buford enjoyed watching Norma's tee shirt flare up, enjoyed watching the girl's buttocks wiggle and gyrate to the lively music.

"Oh no," Eunice groaned as Freddy LaSalle was announced.

"You shut up, I like him yeah," Norma said as they sat down to listen to the joke.

She put her head on Eunice's shoulder and Eunice put a loving arm around her sister's shoulders as they listened.

"Oh, that's stupid yeah," Norma declared when he finally reached the punch line.

Eunice agreed, but didn't say anything.

"Oh, I like that!" Norma giggled as they danced a slow waltz and Eunice's hand came in direct contact with her exposed buttock.

"Yeah?" Eunice asked and playfully pinched the exposed flesh.

"Ow!" Norma giggled and then kissed her sister.

An hour later, Eunice declared it to be bedtime and pulled Norma down the hall.

"You stay here?" Norma begged as Eunice put all the pillows on Norma's side.

"What?" Eunice asked, guiltily. "I do stay..."

"No you don't," Norma whined. "Last night, I got up and you wasn't here; I had pee real bad but I was too scared but I didn't cry; I don't want Mr. Buford think I'm this big baby no."

Eunice's heart felt heavy; she had not thought of Norma waking up while she slept in Buford's bed.

"Come on," she sighed, pulling Norma out of the bed.

If Buford was going to toss her aside for the prettier, sexier Norma, better he do it now before Eunice fell too deeply in love with him.

"But I'm already in love with him," she said to herself.

Buford looked up when both girls came into his bedroom.

"Nuh uh, that's my side," Eunice put her foot down when Norma began to get into bed first.

"But I always..." Norma said, determined.

"No, no, that's her side," Buford said decisively. "Besides that, you and me got the better part of the bed."

"We do?" Norma asked.

"Yeah, look," Buford said, grabbing the pad and quickly sketching out a caricature of himself and Norma sleeping happily while a squashed Eunice lay between them, looking miserable.

Norma laughed and showed Eunice the drawing.

Eunice smiled as she stripped off her tee shirt and panties and got into the bed. Norma climbed in after her.

"Everybody happy?" Buford asked and turned off the lights.

A moment later, he felt Eunice's hand reaching and pulling down his briefs.

"Your sister is..." Buford whispered then groaned as her hot mouth encircled the head of his cock.

He did not last long but did recover quickly.

If Buford thought that they should be quiet, discrete while Norma lay in the same bed, Eunice obviously did not. She moaned happily as his hard cock slid into her sopping wet pussy, loudly encouraged him and barked in orgasm as his sperm flooded into her tight pussy.

Then Buford heard rustling and realized that Norma was masturbating while she listened to them making love.

Buford pumped a second load of semen into Eunice's tight pussy as he listened to Norma's orgasm.

A few minutes later, Norma whispered urgently, "Ooni, I need pee." 

"Come on," Eunice said sleepily, pushing her sister out of the bed.

Buford heard the toilet flush. A moment later, he heard it flush again.

"Nuh uh, what I told you?" he heard Eunice snap as the bed moved.

"But you finished yeah," Norma protested.

"SO? That's my place," Eunice said, voice raising slightly. "That's my man; that's my place."

"Norma, I done told you; that's your sister's place," Buford said firmly.

Eunice felt happiness flood her heart; her man agreed with her, and stood up for her to the prettier Norma.

"I love you yeah, love you so much," she whispered into Buford's ear.

Chapter 11

Tammy Timmons was thrilled with the desk but was not thrilled with the young girl that showed her the details and functions of the desk.

"That's your cousin?" she asked Buford suspiciously.

"Yeah, well, my daddy and her daddy's daddy was cousins, that makes her what?" Buford grunted as Eunice helped him load the desk into the bed of the truck Tammy had rented. "Second cousins once removed, or third cousins; I ain't sure."

"You help me unload it?" Tammy asked Buford when he slammed the tailgate of the truck shut.

"Yeah," Eunice agreed and was already getting into the truck.

Buford smirked at the expression on Tammy's face, then realized with a shock; the unattractive woman was attracted to him.

Tammy got into the truck, glanced at the too tight tee shirt and too short shorts and the girl's bare feet and frowned.

"So, what's it like, working for Mr. Theriot?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

"Who, oh, Buford?" Eunice asked, looking at the rail thin woman with her unflattering hair style and drab clothing.

"Uh yeah, Buford; are you two really cousins?" Tammy asked.

"He and my daddy's cousins," Eunice corrected.

"Well, he told me he had hired his cousin clean his house," Tammy fished.

"Yeah and I do the cooking too. Me or Norma do," Eunice agreed.

"And who's Norma?" Tammy snapped.

"My sister; you don't like me no, huh?" Eunice asked.

"What?" Tammy asked, unused to direct confrontation.

"You all mad at me and I ain't done nothing," Eunice observed.

"Well I uh," Tammy stammered.

Once at the office, she strained and struggled to help, but Eunice did the majority of the lifting and pulling and pushing the desk into place.

"What you doing with that?" Eunice asked, pointing to the original desk in Tammy's office.

"Putting it in the office at the end," Tammy said. "Got Irwin and Steve coming in Monday; they'll get it."

"What? Why?" Eunice asked and slid the dolly under the desk. "Where it go?"

"And that's Buford's office," Tammy said, although she didn't know why she had said that, when Eunice backed up past the open doorway of Buford's office.

"I tell Norma he does keep that silly thing on his desk yeah," Eunice laughed as she spotted the 'Bacon Fairy' doll that Norma had carved for him.

Tammy looked and frowned at the wooden pig with wings on Buford's desk.

"What on earth?" she asked.

"That's the Bacon Fairy," Eunice explained.

Tammy looked at the ragged clothing Norma had stitched together for the figurine.

"And what does the Bacon Fairy do?" she asked, wondering if this as some Cajun folklore.

"Like the Tooth Fairy, put bacon on your plate," Eunice explained and gingerly pulled the desk into position.

"Thank you," Tammy said and handed Eunice a twenty dollar bill.

"Oh! Thanks," Eunice said and jammed the bill into the pocket of her shorts.

"She working on the Cake Fairy right now," Eunice laughed.

"Who?" Tammy asked.

At the consignment shop, Buford looked into the rear of the shop; Norma was still happily carving on the piece of cypress wood.

"Getting ready go to Clark's; what you want?" he asked.

"Same thing," she said, looking up.

"Buford thought to himself that Norma was beginning to put on a few pounds, but didn't say anything. If he had not sweated, grunted, cursed and thrown tools around and finally gotten the 'almost no assembly required' exercise equipment put together, he would be packing on the pounds as well.

"Jus in time," he smiled as Eunice came back into the shop. "Going to Clark's; what you want?"

"Same thing," she said.

While Buford was out, Eunice told Norma that he kept that silly Bacon Fairy doll on his desk at his place of work.

"I love him yeah," Norma said and used a small piece of sandpaper to smooth down an edge on the chunk of wood she was working on.

Eunice felt anger well up in her but looking at Norma's sweet face as the woman worked on her silly doll, Eunice couldn't stay angry.

"Think he love you too," she said.

"Norma smiled, and then looked at the 'Cake Fairy' drawing that Buford had made, then at the chunk of wood.

Buford returned, holding three heavy bags.

"Uh, wash them hands you," Eunice ordered as Norma grabbed for the bags.

In the bathroom, Eunice wondered if she should change her tampon but decided that lunch would come first. Norma was known for helping herself to Eunice's French fries if Eunice wasn't diligent.

Then a thought struck her.

"Uh, hey Norma, when the last time you had you the curse?" she asked.

"It ain't been that long no," Norma said, carefully scrubbing her hands.

"Last month, month before that?" Eunice pressed.

"I don't know," Norma said, screwing up her face, trying to remember.

Buford had already set their meal out and smiled as the two girls approached the flimsy card table.

"Need ask you something later," Eunice said.

At his shack, Bobby Bordelon looked over as two police officers knocked on Alton's door. They'd been by three times already; the first time; he had talked with the older man while that colored boy looked around.

Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead as he quietly pushed his air boat into the water.

He started the boat and saw both police officers quickly look his way. To his relief, the two just waved and walked back toward their patrol car.

"Where you think he run off too?" Officer Jerome Malone asked Officer James Kowalski.

"Dumb ass coon ass like that?" James asked. "Man, give them some string and a pocket knife; they can live out in that swamp forever."

Skimming across the swamp, Bobby did not slow down as he passed a small sandbar, but he did glance over at it. The bottom of the pirogue was barely visible; unless you knew exactly what you were looking at, it looked like an old cypress root.

"Them damned Theriots," he cursed to himself.

That Ooni, running him off when he just wanted to tell her that he had seen that colored boy pull that gun on her daddy; if she'd be nice to him, he'd go and tell them police what he'd seen. But she just run him off; he could see she had that gun with her.

Then, a few days later, he found Alton, emaciated, half-delirious with hunger and thirst, couldn't even remember which way his home was. He'd offered pull him back, if he would just let him take Norma out gigging for frogs one night.

Alton had laughed and let Bobby know that Norma was too good for the likes of him.

It had taken only one shot from his .38 to silence Alton's hateful laugh; the other three bullets had been just to make sure Alton wasn't coming back.

Bobby nearly collided with a low hanging branch; that shook him from his reverie.




Xenophobia



Jill tried to tell herself she wasn't crazy. She was seeing a psychiatrist, yes, and she had some...emotional disturbances that she needed help to work through. But lots of perfectly sane people had...issues. Lots of rational people sometimes had irrational thoughts. It didn't mean that she was crazy. Not so long as she could distinguish the irrational ideas from the rational.

"Come in," Doctor Lippman said. "Have a seat." He smiled disarmingly and gestured towards the comfortable-looking leather couch. Jill wondered if he was secretly an alien.

"Now, Jill," he said as she hesitantly sat down, then lay down. "You came to me because you said you've been having some bad dreams lately?"

She shook her head. "No, Doctor. It started before the dreams, maybe a year before." She paused, trying to put her thoughts into some sort of order. "It was...I started to think people..." She sighed. "I'm sorry, this is probably going to sound sort of crazy."

Doctor Lippman put up a hand. "Please, Jill," he said. "There's no such thing as 'crazy' in this room. There might be thoughts and behaviors that we'll want to correct, because they're making your life difficult, but 'crazy' is a word that implies judgment, and I'm not here to judge you. I'm here to help you. And I can't do that unless you know you can talk openly about whatever it is that's bothering you. So just go ahead and tell me everything."

Jill took a deep breath and nodded, as much to herself as to Doctor Lippman. "Okay," she said, psyching herself up for her next sentence. "I started to think that the people around me were aliens."

She waited for an outburst of some sort, but obviously, Doctor Lippman had heard stranger things than that in this office. "Go on," he said.

"It wasn't everyone," Jill elaborated. "I mean, I didn't think my mom was an alien, or my friends or my co-workers. I'd just...I'd be walking down the street, doing some shopping or getting lunch, just doing normal things, and I'd see someone in the crowd. I'd suddenly spot someone and think to myself, 'That man's an alien.' And I didn't know why. I mean, it wasn't anything about them physically. They looked perfectly normal, perfectly human. But I'd look at them, and I'd know that was just a disguise, that underneath that human skin, there was this skinny little thing with huge, black eyes and gray skin, watching me."

"And how did that make you feel?" Doctor Lippman asked.

Jill's eyes were staring up at the ceiling, but in her mind, she was right back there on that crowded street all over again. "Terrified," she said. "I remember the first time it happened, I turned around and started walking the other way, really fast. I was almost running, I was shoving people out of the way, I was so sure that he'd come after me, catch up to me and rape me."

"Rape you?" Doctor Lippman asked. He kept his voice even and professional, but Jill could still hear a bit of surprise in his tones.

"Yes," she replied, surprised at how calm she sounded. "It was always the same, whenever I saw them. I knew they wanted to have sex with me. I never thought they were going to use force, but at the same time...I was sure that if they decided to have sex with me, I wouldn't be able to stop them. They'd use something, some...alien device...and I'd just have to do what they said."

"You said, 'whenever I saw them'," Doctor Lippman said as he wrote something down on a pad of paper. "How often did you see them, these aliens?"

Jill frowned in concentration as she tried to think back over the last thirteen months. "Maybe once a week at first...sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less. It's been happening more frequently, though. Now I see them almost every day, sometimes more than once a day. It's like...I dunno, like they're stalking me." She sighed. "God, I sound so paranoid."

"But you've never taken any action against these aliens? You've never acted on your fears?"

Jill shook her head. "No, never. I've been too frightened. All I could ever think of when I saw them was getting away before they had sex with me."

"I see," Doctor Lippman said. "Jill, have you had any problems with relationships?"

Jill smiled ruefully. "I think you need to have relationships before you can have problems with relationships," she said. "Sorry, Doc--do you mind if I call you Doc?"

"Not at all," Doctor Lippman said. "Whatever makes you feel more comfortable."

Jill nodded. "It's just--I'm not really looking for a relationship right now. I'm pre-law, and I don't really have the time to devote to a boyfriend. That's a decision I made four years ago, when I first started college, I don't think it's got anything to do with this."

Doctor Lippman nodded, but he wrote something down in his notes anyway. Probably something like, 'Patient hasn't been laid in way too long, is imagining alien sex fiends'. "And the dreams, when did those start?"

"I..." Jill chewed gently on her lip, an old nervous habit she'd never quite been able to get rid of. "I'm not really sure, Doctor Lippman. I don't usually remember my dreams, you see. But I've been having trouble sleeping for a while now, maybe nine or ten months. I think that I might have been having the dreams that long, and just not remembering them."

"What sort of trouble sleeping?" Doctor Lippman asked. "Were you having difficulties getting to sleep, or waking up in the middle of the night?"

"No," Jill said confidently, "I never have trouble staying asleep once I finally crash. I sleep like a rock. But I do have trouble getting to sleep. That started...six months ago? Seven? I'd get all tense, start finding excuses not to go to bed, but I'd just get so tired after a while that I couldn't stay awake. Sometimes I'd crash in the living room, or even at the kitchen table, because I was trying to stay up and got so tired so fast that I couldn't get up to go to bed."

"You said that was six or seven months ago," Doctor Lippman noted, "but you said your trouble sleeping started nine or ten months ago. How did the trouble start, then?"

"I'd wake up disoriented," Jill said. The words seemed somehow inadequate to describe the sensation. "It was like I wasn't sure if I was really in my own room at first, like I thought I was...somewhere else. I'd get panicky, I'd need to reach out and touch the pillows and blankets to reassure myself I was really in bed."

Doctor Lippman made a few more notes. "And then the dreams started...?"

"About...three weeks ago?" Jill said uncertainly. "Maybe a month ago, I'm not sure. Like I said, I don't usually remember my dreams, and it started with just little flashes of memory. I'd remember a fragment here, a fragment there. But it started getting clearer every night."

Doctor Lippman nodded. "Did you think about keeping a dream diary? Noting the dreams down while they were still fresh in your memory? Many people who think they don't remember their dreams find that they actually do remember on first waking, but that the dreams simply fade from their consciousness shortly after coming out of sleep."

Jill shook her head. "No, it's not like that. I remember them clearly now, but I didn't then. It was the same dream, every single night, but I got better at remembering it, better at fighting..." She caught herself. She'd been trying not to think of the events of the dreams as 'real', but they'd gotten so vivid that it was hard to keep track of the difference between fantasy and reality sometimes.

Hence her decision to visit a psychiatrist, she reminded herself. "Tell me about the dreams," Doctor Lippman prompted her.

"It always starts the same," Jill said. "I close my eyes to sleep, and then I open them, and I'm...somewhere else. Somewhere dark. The walls are dark blue, and there's a sort of a couch in the middle of the room. I'm naked, I'm always naked. Even if I've worn pajamas to bed, they're gone when I find myself in the room. I'm surprised to be there, I'm always surprised to be there, but...at the same time, it feels familiar. I get this strong sense of déjà vu, like I've been in this room lots of times, but I've just...forgotten.

"There are other people there with me, six or seven of them. Always men. At first, I'm relieved. I think, 'I'm in a strange place, but at least I'm not alone.' And then...they change." Jill shuddered as the memory replayed itself in her mind's eye. "They glow really brightly, like there's a light coming from inside them, getting brighter and brighter until I can't see the person anymore. And then the glow subsides, and they're all...aliens."

"Describe them for me," Doctor Lippman said, his pen scribbling rapidly on his note pad.

"I dunno," Jill said, "alien aliens. Like in Close Encounters. They're short, maybe four feet tall...skinny, too. Their skin is gray, it feels like a hard-boiled egg when you touch it. They're naked, and I can't see their penises, but..." She blushed slightly. "If you look close, there's a tiny little slit there, on their crotch. That's where their penis comes out when they get, um..." Her blush intensified. "Horny."

Doctor Lippman didn't react at all to her explaining the intricacies of alien genitalia. "Um...they've got big eyes," she continued. "Really big. Like, the size of a softball, but shaped like almonds. And huge heads, too. Big and bulbous. They look like, you know, aliens."

Doctor Lippman nodded. "It's the most popular cultural conception of what an alien looks like," he said. "They're generally termed 'greys', after the color of their skin. Many people have had experiences similar to what you're describing, Jill."

"I'm not stupid, Doc," Jill said sharply. "I know about that stuff. 'Fire In the Sky', 'Communion', all that. But this wasn't like that. They weren't talking to me, they weren't telling me about how we were all sky-children together or some bullshit like that. They were just standing there, looking at my body."

"And do you feel afraid, in the dream?" Doctor Lippman asked.

"Yes and no," Jill replied. "It's like my brain is split into two parts. There's a part of me that's just losing it, absolutely freaking out and wanting to run or cry or fight back, but it's like that part of me is behind a glass wall. I'm aware it's there, but I can't touch it. The rest of me, the part of me that's actually in charge of my body, feels...sedated. Just sort of placid and docile and passive. Like I'm accepting everything that happens to me. I think it's something they do to me when they take me to the ship." She paused, uncomfortably aware of how that sounded. "I mean, you know...in the dream, that's what I think."

"Of course," Doctor Lippman said. "And then what happens?"

"There are, um...variations," Jill said. "It always starts with the couch, though. They point to the couch, and I walk over to it and lie face down. There's a sort of place for my chin to rest, and it faces this bank of lights. And I look into the lights, and they start flashing. It's hypnotic, it draws my eyes into it. The patterns do things to my brain. Sometimes it makes me horny, sometimes it just makes me even more drowsy and passive. Sometimes I get giddy, euphoric and bubbly and just so happy to be the aliens' plaything. The little voice in the back of my head always tries to tell me to stop, but the lights just swamp it out."

Doctor Lippman made a few more notes. "And the aliens? What do they do?"

"It's always different. Sometimes they use devices on me." The memories were so intense that Jill felt like she was halfway in the dream even now. "There's all sorts of things that fold out from the couch. I can hear them, but I can't look away from the light. There's one they use a lot, it's a...a probe of some sort. It's thick, but it's got some sort of lubricant on it that makes it slippery, and they...they slide it into my butt. Sometimes they leave it there all night, just buzzing away inside me, while they do other things. Sometimes they use two probes, one in my butt and one in my pussy. I can't look away from the lights, but I can tell they're watching me.

"But they mostly fuck me," she continued. It felt a little weird, confessing all this to a total stranger, but once she started talking, it just all spilled out of her at once. "The couch unfolds these little stirrups that spread my legs apart to let them get inside of me. Sometimes they have me get up on my hands and knees. A few times, they had me lie on my back, once the lights had melted my brain down into mush. But whatever position they put me into, they almost always fuck me. Sometimes they use their fingers, but most of the time, their dicks slide out of that slit in their crotches, and..."

She shivered, whether from revulsion or arousal she wasn't quite sure. "They're prehensile. When they fuck me, I can feel their dicks, wriggling around inside me as they slide them in and out. Usually, I can't see them, but sometimes one will make me suck on its dick while another fucks me, and then I can see it. It sways from side to side like a snake, and it sort of wiggles its way into my mouth so I can suck it."

Doctor Lippman cleared his throat slightly. He sounded a little bit embarrassed, or maybe just distracted. "And how long does this last?"

"All night," Jill said. "One after the other, all of them taking their turns with me. When they're done, they change the settings on the lights, bring them up all the way. It starts making me really sleepy, like this white fog is settling down over my whole brain, and it's erasing all the memories of the night. Even the other part of me, the one in the back of my head, starts getting sleepy when they turn the lights up all the way. That part of me fights it, it tries so hard to keep the memories, but the lights just melt them all away, and I just get sleepy and empty and everything just fades to white...and then I wake up."

Doctor Lippman was quiet for a few moments. He finished making notes, and then he set his pen down. Finally, he spoke. "Jill," he said, "I'm going to ask you a question. There's no right or wrong answer, here, but it is very important that you be honest with me."

"Okay," Jill said hesitantly.

"Jill...do you believe what's happening in your dreams is real?"

Jill closed her eyes, clenching back a sudden and surprising burst of tears. "Sometimes," she admitted. "I'll wake up, and I'll be relieved that I managed to fight the memory eraser this time. Or I'll be studying, and I'll think of the dream, and I'll just get so angry--wondering what it is they want with me, whether they're studying the human sex drive, or whether they're trying to breed with me to create some sort of half-human hybrid, or--or I'll wonder why me, why I'm the one they picked for this. I'll start wondering if it was something I said, something I did, some factor that makes me susceptible to their control..." She trailed off.

"And then I remember that it's all in my head. It's just me, being cr--being irrational. It's not real." Jill wished she sounded more certain when she said that last sentence.

Her answer seemed to satisfy Doctor Lippman, though. "All right," he said. He picked up another note pad, and wrote something on that. "We'll talk more about this next time, Jill; in the meanwhile, I'm writing you a prescription for a mild sedative. It should help reduce the intensity of the dreams, and make them fade away quicker on waking. Understand, this is just a temporary measure. I don't believe in medicating your problems away. But this will help until we can make progress in your conventional therapy. Sound good?"

Jill stood up, taking the paper from his outstretched hand. "Yes," she said, her hands practically shaking in relief. "Thank you so much, Doctor Lippman!"

Doctor Lippman smiled. "I just want to get your life back on track, Jill. Don't worry. I'm sure that pretty soon, your nightmares will be a thing of the past."

Jill practically grinned from ear to ear when she heard that. She headed out of the office, a new spring in her step as she thought about a life once more free of nightmares, strange delusions and panic attacks in the middle of the street...

Doctor Lippman watched her go. After the door had closed, he sat there for a long moment, listening to make sure she hadn't decided to come back. Once he was sure, he relaxed his concentration and allowed himself to resume his true form.

He crossed the office to the bookshelf, and pressed a concealed switch. Instantly, the bookshelf slid aside to reveal a bank of computers and a video monitor. "This is Ensign Allippmiann, reporting," he said in his native language. "Commander, I regret to inform you that Subject: Jill Royce is beginning to overcome her conditioning. I questioned her while she was under a concealed Operant Conditioner on a low-level setting to ensure true answers, and from what she told me, it's safe to assume that memory blocks are already breaking down. I've given her a prescription that should suppress the process, but even so, I estimate that we have no more than four weeks remaining before she completely overcomes the Operant Conditioner's effects."

He winked at the monitor. "So basically, if you want to tap that fine human ass, Commander, you better get down here quick before we have to let this one go. Seriously, man, she is like...damn! I mean, we've had some hotties on the couch before, but this HILF has got it going on like Stacy's mom! Trust me, you gotta break off a piece of this, dude." Allippmiann practically popped a wiggly just thinking about her.

"Report concluded, Ensign Allippmiann signing off." He switched off the monitor and let the bookshelf slide back into place. And to think, his podmates told him that the Space Exploration Services would be boring...

THE END